#ALSO i do think when i someday replay her i’m going to set her gender as man just to see how that affects the trans dialogue

[trevisos]

a little magpie photo dump bc she’s the love of my life i think

[headinthe-fridge]

My Grandfather’s Lawyer (pt. 4)

⁂ – Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader –  ⁂

warning: nsfw, swearing

Summary: Your grandfather, Washijo Tanji, disowned your mother when she was pregnant with you and her hatred towards him was passed on to you. Now, your estranged grandfather wants you to leave your life in Tokyo and come live with him in his estate in the Miyagi Prefecture.

You took a day off and a 6-hour trip, intending to give him a piece of your mind before disappearing from their lives forever. You didn’t expect to see an ailing and fragile old man. Your day trip stretched into weeks and soon, you patched things up with your estranged family and warmed up to everyone -except to one: Ushijima Wakatoshi -your grandfather’s lawyer.

He thinks you have ulterior motives in reuniting with your grandfather.

You weren’t suppose to care what he thinks of you. His opinion didn’t matter.

But it did.

AN: OMG you guys are blowing up my notifs, sorry I couldn’t reply to each of you, I barely have time to linger in any socmed apps bc of work. BUT THANK YOU ALLL!! I Loooove you. I’m trying to make y/n as gender neutral as possible but not sure if i’m doing a good job. But yeah, heres part four!  💖💖

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

"I hope you don't mind if I do most of the talking." Your grandfather started. 

"There are so many things that I want to tell you but I don't know where or how to start. He couldn't hide the sadness in his voice. Of that, you were sure. "I have a feeling that no matter how hard I try, you will stick to what you know -to what your parents told you.

"Your hostility today proved that I was right about my hunch, so that leaves me no other choice but to tell you everything. And to start, I want to explain the exchange of letters your mother and I had."

"L-letters?" Your brows scrunched in confusion.

"You mean you don' know that... well, I should have known better." His shoulders dropped. I know everything that happened with your family because of the letters your mother sent me, although, at that time, I don't know the reason why she did that so I never bothered to read those.

"It was only later that I realized why," He paused then added lowly. "That was to spite me, of course. She wanted to show me that even if your family isn't rich, you're all very happy. That even without the luxuries, you are complete and you love each other."

The old man looked up at you, his eyes glistening in tears. "Do you know that that hit me terribly? I was happy for her but I cannot admit to myself that I envy her. I envied your family's happiness. It was as if you had nothing to worry about in this world.

"I can't believe that my youngest daughter, my dear Noriko who got everything she wanted without even lifting a finger, my Norik who grew up in a wealthy household, chose to live a simple and plain life with her husband and child." Your gaze was fixated on your grandfather so you didn't miss it when he gently wiped a lone tear that fell down his cheek. You were astounded. You thought you were imagining things.

"But... but why didn't you help us when we asked?"

"It was too late when I learned of your mother's sickness, it was too late when I read the letters. But even if I knew early on, it was clear that she didn't want any of it. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't because I never knew where it was that you live, only that it was in Tokyo. It seemed she used a different address when she sent me those letters."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I don't expect you to believe me now, my dear y/n. But please don't close your heart and mind. Please give me a chance."

"But why now?" Your voice faltered, mind racing. Everything that your parents told you doesn't add up to what the old man said. What is even the truth? Who lied? Was it your parents? But why would they do that? No, they wouldn't.

"It's hard to explain, y/n, but please understand that I'm just a father who loved his daughter greatly. I didn't approve of her relationship with your father because I thought he wouldn't be able to give the things she needed. When Noriko ran away with your father, I was devastated."

You shook your head fervently. "N-no, I don't believe you, you're just saying that because yo-"

Like I said earlier, I don't expect you to believe me." He cut you off then reached for a small brown box that rested on top of his bedside table. He offered it to you. 

"I hope that the contents of this box would ease away at least some of your hatred for your grandfather."

You took it with trembling hands. "What's this?"

"You'll know once you open it but if you may, please do that when you're back in your room. And return that box to me, please, as soon as possible. What's inside of that box are more than just treasures."

Your grandfather's crest-fallen expression only heightened your confusion. "You may go now. Your old man is tired and in need of rest." -- With swollen, red eyes, you blinked the tears away to clear your vision. You tried to contain your sob as you placed the letters back inside the box. It was your mother's letters for your grandfather.

you briefly wondered why your mother even bothered to write these letters when half of them were full of hatred and anger for her father.

But at the same time, you couldn't blame her. Aside from loving your father so much, she also had her own principles and greatly values her dignity. Plus, the fact that your grandfather disowned her also terribly hurt your mother.

Your head spun. You somehow felt ashamed of yourself; how you acted earlier, and all the things you said to your grandfather.

But then again, none of that matters now. There was also nothing you could do to change what happened in the past so you decided to only bother yourself with the present, with what needs to be done now.

For a long period of time, you paced around the confines of your room but instead of coming up with a plan of action, it only made you tired. You let out a deep sigh before laying on the futon. The best thing you could think of right now is to sleep through it and silently hope for everything to be okay tomorrow. ---- You woke up the next morning with a heavy heart. What happened last night still vividly replayed in the forefront of your mind, as if it happened only seconds ago. You could still hear the deep longing and sadness in your grandfather's voice, the anger in your mother's letters, and your hostility towards him.

Now that you knew the truth, staying here would be too much.

Groggy and groaning, you willed yourself to get up from the futon and prepare to leave. You glanced at the wrinkled clothes that you wore yesterday, you were only gonna wear it during the trip so that will do.

You were all set when your eyes landed on the small brown box. You needed to return it to your grandfather, the letters are important to him.

The heaviness in your heart alleviates. Despite the harsh and hurtful words your mother wrote in those letters, your grandfather still kept them and considered it more than treasures. You picked it up from the chabudai. You're going to say goodbye as soon as you return it to him.

It would be better to go back to Tokyo. To go back to your previous life before you met your long lost family. Yes, it would be best to go back to Tokyo and forget everything that happened for the past 24 hours. Now may not be the time but you hoped that your relationship with your grandfather will take on a good turn. 

Someday. But not now.

As soon as you stepped out of your room, dead silence welcomed you. You made your way to your grandfather's quarters but the creeping silence got to you. Did you wake up too early or do the people in this house just stay in bed too late?

You shrugged away the thought when you arrived in front of the old man's room. You were about to call out to him when someone grabbed your wrist.

"Good, you're awake. You're really the reason why I quickly came back. Let's go." Your grandfather's lawyer declared at pulled you to god knows where. "Huh? Wait, where are you taking me?" You tried to pull your wrist away from Ushijima's grip.

"I will bring you to your grandfather. He's in the hospital right now and kept calling for you, so whether you like it or not, you're coming with me."

You unconsciously let yourself get dragged along. The moment you heard that your grandfather is in the hospital, worry filled every fiber of your being. 

You now fell in to step with him, his tall frame looming beside you. He still hasn't let go of your wrist. You looked up at him, his cold eyes met yours and you immediately looked down.

"What happened to him? And how is he?"

"If you really want to know then I suggest you ask him yourself." He said dryly.

His apathetic tone irked you a bit but you decided to keep your mouth shut. The ride to Sendai General Hospital was short and silent. His brooding and aloof demeanor didn't help in subduing your growing ire for him. But seriously what is his problem?

Part 5

Taglist: @thegrumpyhag​ @sushij1ma​ @valoryess​ @yakus-yakult​ @ly-nia​ @ushi-please​ @plutoglass @kokofirebangbomb​ @strawberryy-milkk @melanieacademy​ @defunkitatedmess​ @lunarknox​ @wtoshii​ @kyomihann​

[unfolded73]

Partners (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

The third of a series of snapshot fics centered around stages in David and Patrick’s relationship and the way they label it. Set some time between 5x06: Rock On and 5x08: The Hospies. (ao3)

Rated Explicit, 3267 words. Previous fic in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”

__________________________________

Partner, n. a person with whom one shares an intimate relationship; one member of a couple

~

“Stevie, no,” David said as she put a big bottle of discount shampoo into her grocery cart. “We sell shampoo at the store.”

“And are you going to give me some for free? Because I can’t afford the shampoo at your store.”

He wasn’t going to give it to her for free. She got enough free wine from them as it was.

They rounded the end of the aisle and moved onto the next one, where Stevie threw a box of tampons into her cart. “No comments.”

“Why would I comment? It’s a normal part of being a vagina-having human.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that. I just figured you’d have an opinion on what brand I was buying.”

David sniffed. “It would seem you’ve found the limit to my wealth of opinions.”

Stevie had moved on to the condoms, and she pulled two boxes off the little hook, throwing one in her cart and one in David’s.

“Oh,” he said. “I don’t—”

“Don’t tell me those aren’t your brand; I’ve seen you buy them plenty of times.”

“No, it’s not that.” He carefully put the box back. “I just don’t need any.”

Stevie shot him a pitying look. “Patrick’s not putting out anymore?”

“No!” he said indignantly as he continued pushing his cart down the aisle. “We’re just not, um, using… condoms. Anymore.”

Stevie stopped and stared at him. “That’s a big deal.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” David said, concentrating on his cart. “I have to go back; I forgot Patrick’s cereal.”

“So you’re saying it’s not a big deal that you’re here, buying groceries for the boyfriend with whom you’ve practically moved in and with whom you’re no longer using condoms.”

“I haven’t moved in, I just happen to know he’s out of cereal,” David said, trying not to smile.

“Because you’re exclusive,” she continued, bumping his shoulder. “Monogamous.”

“We aren’t seeing other people because we’re in a committed relationship.” David replayed Patrick saying those words in his mind a lot. Committed relationship. “And he says he has no interest in seeing other people, so.”

“Yeah, I heard about Ken,” Stevie said.

“Who told you about that?” David said, wincing.

“I got the full rundown from Alexis and from Patrick.”

David huffed. “So given that, and that we got tested ages ago, we decided to forego the condoms from now on.” He didn’t tell her the other thing that Patrick had asked him to promise: that if anything ever did happen with someone else, for either of them, the important thing was that they be honest with each other about it. Patrick said he could forgive infidelity, but he wouldn’t be able to forgive his health being put at risk in the interest of keeping a secret. It was an incredibly mature position to take, and David was still trying to wrap his head around the implications of it: that Patrick thought their relationship was solid enough to withstand something that serious. David had always thought of romantic relationships as something ephemeral that could be blown away by the prevailing winds. Not something stable, with thick stanchions sunk deep into the earth.

“That means you also have no interest in seeing other people,” Stevie said.

“Why would I want to see other people? I had a lifetime of seeing other people, and it didn’t hold a candle to…” He blinked. He was getting way over-emotional for the frozen food aisle, where Stevie was currently putting a couple of frozen pizzas into her cart. “Get one of the pepperoni and sausage,” he told her.

“These are for me. Get your own.” She shot him a smirk. “Didn’t hold a candle to what?”

“To being with someone who knows me,” David said quickly.

“Hmm.” Stevie led David over to the cereal aisle so that he could get Patrick’s breakfast cereal. “And you realize that he probably feels the same way, right? Which is why he doesn’t care about experiencing other guys at this point either.”

“Yes, I realize that now,” David said, meeting her eyes.

“Good.” Stevie nodded, but then her face contorted into a grimace. “God, David, you’re so happy. It’s disgusting.”

~~~

David found himself surprised by his own confidence in their relationship when he noticed Patrick checking out a hot guy in bike shorts who stopped by the store. Rather than a stab of jealousy, he just felt a sort of warmth about it, that after so many years of not knowing himself and even after the Ken debacle, Patrick was allowing himself to openly admire another man. So when the guy left with a bottle of juice and was back on his bike outside, David grinned and commented, “This town has a criminal shortage of asses that perfect.”

And rather than looking guilty, Patrick laughed. “Oh my god, right?”

“Aside from yours, of course.”

Patrick snorted. “Sure,” he said, and once again David had to restrain himself from delivering his well-researched, thoroughly-sourced lecture on the perfection of Patrick’s ass to the man himself.

“Maybe we should carry more items geared to cyclists. Reusable water bottles, energy bars, that kind of thing,” David mused.

Patrick looked impressed. “That’s actually a great idea, even if it is rooted in your desire to check out guys’ asses.”

“Not just guys. I like the asses of all genders.”

“Okay, fine. But my point is, Elmdale has a long-distance cycling club. We could do some good business with them if they’re motivated to stop in town while they’re out riding on summer weekends.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon putting together a plan for sourcing fitness-related products, with frequent interruptions to help customers or for shameless innuendo between the two of them, and all of it was fun. Working with Patrick was fun. Flirting with Patrick was fun. Just being in Patrick’s presence was fun, and the fact that they’d been dating for over a year hadn’t made any of it any less fun.

Of course, none of that meant David didn’t still have a possessive streak, and the next time the hot cyclist stopped in the store, David might’ve made a point of dragging his fingers along Patrick’s back where the guy could see.

“You might be interested in these new artisanal protein bars we’re testing,” Patrick told the cyclist, giving David a pointed look like he knew what he was doing.

“Are they good?” Hot cyclist asked.

“I make a point of not eating things with that much granola in them, but my partner assures me they are,” David said, winking at Patrick.

They sold him four bars.

~~~

The thing was, the word ‘partner’ had always been a regular part of their vocabulary since they owned a business together, so when it started to slip out of David’s mouth in contexts that had less and less to do with the business, at first he didn’t realize the import of it. It was Alexis who had to point it out to him one evening when he was hanging out at the motel while Patrick was at the Wobbly Elm with his baseball team.

“You’ve started calling Patrick your partner,” she said.

David squinted up at her from his journal. “What? He’s my business partner.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what you mean by it now. You mean partner. You know. Partner.”

He opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it just as quickly with a click.

“Like you guys are in it for the long haul.”

“Maybe we are,” David said, and oh fuck. Maybe they were.

“Are you going to propose?” she asked.

“What?” His mind whited out at even the suggestion of them… would Patrick want that? To marry him?

“You did always want to get married, David.”

“When I was young and naive and didn’t know that most people are terrible, fickle users.” But he thought about the wedding scrapbook from his childhood that he’d crammed into a suitcase on impulse when they’d been forcibly ejected from their house, the one that was now hidden under the knitwear in his cedar chest.

Alexis huffed, closing her magazine. “Yeah, but Patrick’s not. Patrick’s a sweetie and for some reason he loves you. You might want to lock that down.”

“Patrick’s been engaged before and he had an existential crisis about it,” David said.

“Patrick is gay and was engaged to a woman, so I don’t think that’s relevant.”

“Well, in any case, it’s too soon to… it’s too soon.”

Alexis shrugged.

“What would you do if Ted proposed again?” David asked.

“I’m pretty sure I ruined any chance of that happening. But who knows? Maybe I’ll propose to him someday. No reason I couldn’t ask him to marry me if I wanted to,” Alexis said, picking up her magazine and pretending to be interested in it.

“No,” David said faintly, not thinking about Alexis and Ted at all. “No reason at all.”

David’s conversation with Alexis about his and Patrick’s future was still on his mind at work the next day, which made Patrick’s grumpy mood particularly ill-timed.

“What is up with you?” David asked when Patrick thumped some of their precious merchandise down on a shelf a little too aggressively for the third time.

“I’ve been too busy to go grocery shopping and I was out of milk this morning,” he grumbled.

David winced, because he was pretty sure he’d used up a lot of that milk himself.

“And the stupid dryer in my apartment building ruined another one of my shirts,” Patrick continued.

“Well, is that really such a great loss?” David asked.

Patrick shot him a baleful look. “Really?”

“Sorry, sorry.”

Patrick waved it away and started heading into the back, then just as quickly swung back around. “Did you call the other contractors on the list about giving us a quote on the bathroom reno?”

“Ronnie’s quote is fine. I told you we don’t need—”

“David.” Patrick’s hands went to his hips.

“She’s our friend.” Which wasn’t exactly true — for some reason Ronnie’d never been more than politely skeptical of Patrick. But she was David’s friend.

“And conveniently, if we go with Ronnie you don’t have to call anyone else.”

“Excuse me, maybe I want to support another small business in town,” David said. “If it’s so important, why don’t you call the other contractors?”

“Because I’ve got a million other things to do!” Patrick shouted, his hands flung up in annoyance. “But whatever, do what you want.” And he stalked into the back.

Patrick stayed hidden away throughout the rest of the morning while David helped customers, his stomach in a knot and the press of tears behind his eyes. He hated when they fought. Fortunately it didn’t happen often, but David wallowed internally while he sold people jars of honey and hand-knitted sweaters and body milk.

He finally stuck his head in the back at a quarter past noon. “Do you want a sandwich from the café?”

“Yeah,” Patrick said, not looking up from the filing drawer he was searching through. “Thanks.”

When David returned, he walked carefully over to Patrick’s desk and set the styrofoam container down in front of him. “I told Twyla that you were angry with me, and she gave you an extra pickle.”

Patrick looked up, his eyes sorrowful. “I’m not angry with you. I’m sorry I shouted. I was having a bad morning and I took it out on you.”

David sat across from him, opening his own lunch container. “But I didn’t call those contractors.”

Sighing, Patrick took a bite of one of his pickle spears. “No, you were right. We should cultivate loyal relationships with other business owners in town. Especially since Ronnie’s on council.”

“Okay.”

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes.

“The store is doing particularly well this month,” Patrick commented, sandwich in one hand while the other still scrolled on his scratchpad. A crumb dropped from Patrick’s sandwich onto his computer keyboard, making David wince.

“Yeah?”

“Mm hmm. Between the new product lines and your summer series of events, we’ve raked in record profits.”

David drummed his fingers on the desk. “So will you pay that out to us as a bonus, or…?”

Patrick arched an eyebrow. “No, I was thinking I’d use it to chip away at the list of things we wanted to do to improve the store. The bricks need repointing, and you wanted that wine fridge—”

“Or we could take a trip,” David said.

“A trip?”

“Yeah, a trip. A vacation. You and me, a beach, rum-based drinks, and minimal clothing.” He shimmied his shoulders a little, although the effect was somewhat lost since he was sitting down.

“That’s a lovely thought, David, but it would be a mistake to shut down the store to go on vacation when things are just starting to go so well. We should at least wait until we can afford an employee or two to cover for us while we’re out of town. And I think we might be a year away from that, based on my projections.” Patrick’s eyes were still focused on his spreadsheet.

“So in a year…”

Patrick finally looked at him and smiled. “In a year or two, we should take a trip.”

And sure, it hadn’t been that long ago that David had used the phrase ‘five years down the road’ in reference to their relationship, but he still felt dizzy at Patrick so blithely making plans with him so far in the future.

“You’ll definitely have broken up with me in a year or two,” David demurred, a joke that wasn’t really a joke.

Patrick eyed him for a few seconds, and then stood up and came around from behind the desk. “Oh, I think the promise of rum-based drinks and minimal clothing will be enough to keep me around.” He reached out a hand and when David took it, Patrick pulled him to his feet. “We can start planning it, if you want. If the planning is something you’d enjoy.”

“I suppose that’s something I’d enjoy,” David said into Patrick’s mouth just before they kissed. It was slow and sweet, and David tried to ignore the fact that Patrick tasted like pickles.

“Why don’t you take the afternoon off?” David asked when their lips parted, his fingers kneading Patrick’s shoulders. “It’s been a while since you’ve taken some time off to relax.”

“I took an extra day off last week,” Patrick said.

“Yeah, and I came back to your apartment to find you working on the quarterly taxes at home. I mean, actually relax. Watch some porn. Read a book — and not a finance book! Read that baseball book you keep falling asleep on. I’ll take care of things here.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Mm hmm.” David kissed him again. “I insist.”

“Will you come over after?” Patrick asked, his hand squeezing David’s hip.

“Yeah.”

David floated through the afternoon on a happy cloud; he was even polite to Roland when he came into the store. It was equal parts relief that the small fight with Patrick hadn’t been that big a deal, and the smug satisfaction of having done something nice for his partner. At the end of the day, he didn’t even mind doing the tasks that he hated, like the bookkeeping.

When David slid his key into the lock of Patrick’s apartment and opened the door, the sparkling candlelight and the smell of something delicious cooking hit him simultaneously. Soft music was coming from the record player.

“I told you to relax,” David said, unable to keep his smile at the romantic tableau off his face. “Not slave away over dinner.”

“I did relax. And then by four o’clock I was bored and I decided to do this,” Patrick said as he poured red wine into two glasses, then he noticed what David was holding. “You got milk.”

“You said you were out.” David handed the jug to Patrick, who took it and put it away, a smile on his face.

David sipped his wine. “What did you do this afternoon?”

“Pretty much what you suggested,” Patrick said, pulling a roasted chicken and potatoes out of the oven. “Jerked off, took a nap, replaced that broken string on my guitar, flipped through the Netflix menu without watching anything, and then read my book for a while.”

“Sounds like a good afternoon,” David murmured, his brain stuck on picturing the first thing.

“It did improve my day enormously,” Patrick said as he put food into plates, “so thank you.”

“Any time. Well, not any time. The store is dull without you.”

They ate and drank and talked, and David thought again about what Alexis had said: that they were in it for the long haul. God, he was really starting to believe that was true.

Later, when they’d found their way into bed, Patrick’s hands were confident on his body, competent in the way he was when he operated a corkscrew or plucked his guitar. David felt a lazy kind of pleasure brimming over as Patrick touched him, a gentle thing that bubbled up as they moved together. They traded off using their mouths on each other’s cocks, slowly and without any need to race to the finish, just bringing each other pleasure for the enjoyment of the act itself, for the way it made the other man moan and gasp. The build was achingly slow until it wasn’t, until Patrick turned over onto his elbows and knees in obvious invitation.

David dragged out the process of preparing Patrick with his fingers until Patrick’s fists were clenched on his pillow, his voice ragged as he begged to be fucked. And then David kept at it a little longer still.

When he finally sank inside, Patrick was so keyed up that David worried he’d pushed things too far, that their orgasms would be too mistimed for them both to enjoy this as much as he wanted them to. But Patrick quieted as David fucked him, going to whatever place inside his head he went to stave off coming too soon. Then it was all long, slow strokes and David pressed against Patrick’s back, the sweat slick between them. God, it was a crime how good it felt.

“Harder,” Patrick finally said, finally giving in and stroking himself. “Please, harder.”

“I love you like this,” David groaned, his hips snapping forward with more force. “I’ll always want this with you. Always.”

Patrick had gone nonverbal, rocking back on his knees in time with David’s thrusts, and then he came and David could feel it, the pulses of it clenching around his cock, and he fell over the edge right after Patrick, his teeth against Patrick’s spine.

“Fuck, that was good,” Patrick slurred, collapsing onto his stomach once David had pulled out. They took turns cleaning up in the bathroom, a well-worn routine including comfortable pajamas and glasses of water before getting back into bed.

“This turned out to be a pretty good day,” Patrick said.

“We could go to Elmdale on Monday and I can help you pick out some new shirts,” David murmured, remembering Patrick’s morning frustration.

“You just want a mall pretzel,” Patrick answered, but then he leaned over and kissed David’s cheek. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

It was only minutes before Patrick was softly snoring next to him. David was wide awake though, lying still and watching him sleep, imagining what their future together might be.