#Logan Roy your days are numbered

[queenhelenblackthorn]

Reject tradition, embrace modernity. Fuck family, it's all about business.

[isloganroydeadyet]

March 2 2023: no

[scarletttries]

Roman Roy x Age-Gap! Reader Headcanons:

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Word Count: 2k (warning: mention of Logany child abuse)

Author’s Note: Oh Roman Roy, you're really making me fall in love with your sad little face and your slightly softening heart this season. Thank you for this request, please enjoy these thoughts about Roman Roy with a younger, but still very much legal adult, reader. Also please fill my inbox with Kendall and Roman requests because I am thinking about little else! 😊

Update! Part two here 😀

- Roman Roy has always felt simultaneously like he's never really grown up, and that he was never allowed to be a child. Growing up as the youngest son of Logan Roy he wasn't allowed the chance to make the silly mistakes of childhood folly. Logan had been through that before and frankly he needed Roman to be a serious adult from the moment he could comprehend his father's disapproving glare. Naturally this was an impossible ask of a small, sensitive boy, and led to blows to back of the head when tears threatened to stain the silk shirt he'd been so uncomfortably forced into for another endless press event where he stood like a prop, just desperate not to get in any more trouble or let his dad down worse than he already had.

- As Roman entered adulthood he began to be left out of all the rooms where serious people met and talked about things he could never quite get right; he's wasn't self-interested enough, he didn't have those killer instincts, he couldn't rid his head of the thoughts of how many people would be affected by the company's every move. As Logan and Kendall started to tire of his quippy comments, relegating him to waiting outside for busy work, he could feel himself struggling to meet the thresholds of adulthood that Ken seemed to have carried with him for as long as Roman could remember. This dichotomy of boy and man left Roman feeling like he was never quite comfortable with his age, unsure what lense to see that number through. And then he met you.

- Getting a job at Waystar may have left you feeling a little morally uncomfortable, but you reminded yourself that ten years experience there and you'd be able to get any job in any industry you like, while also being able to pay for your own place. So you pushed that feeling down each day as you entered that office full of rich old white men. Given you'd actually had to earn your place there, rather than just knowing someone, it wasn't long until your work ethic, intelligence and ingenuity had you climbing the corporate ladder in your department and getting you noticed by some of the much higher-ups. Naturally they tried to just take credit for your work, but when the day came that Logan actually asked for an explanation of a report you'd produced, Frank had no choice but to put you in a room with the big boss face-to-face.

- You'd heard nothing but bad things about Logan Roy and as he stared at you in pure contempt while you answered his questions, wondering why his time was being wasted with this young thing from the bullpen, it took all your resolve to hold your nerve, giving short answers and trying not to give him anything to hold over you. Every so often you'd let your eyes flick over his shoulder to the man standing behind him, ten years older than you but pulling at the sleeves of his shirt like a little kid as he watched you face the interrogation, outwardly seeming far more nervous about the situation than you did. After fifteen minutes of watching you hold your head high and speak so confidently about your work, Roman was staring at you unashamedly in a mix of awe, intrigue and disbelief. Despite the age gap you seemed to have all the facets of a self-assured adult that he felt he'd never quite unlocked, while exuding the joyful exuberance of youth he'd never been allowed. He needed to know more about you, so when Logan shouted at Gerri to 'throw you in a dress and bring to this week's investor mixers' he could feel his heart pounding in his chest at the sheer hope and possibility of the answers you might hold.

- You weren't thrilled to spend your evenings surrounded by colleagues, stood to attention in case anyone needed a question answering, but you didn't hate the full railing of designer evening wear that had been sent to your apartment for the occasion. You found yourself trying to blend into the shadows of a corner, unsure of your place in this room and this crowd, wondering if any of the food on display was actually for eating, or if that would be seen as a massive faux pas. Luckily Roman had been keeping an interested eye on you all evening; who you'd spoken to, what you'd been dressed in, the frankly adorable face you'd pulled when Frank handed you a Whiskey twice your age and you took a very unwilling sip, feigning appreciation before slinking away to stick your tongue out at the burning taste. And finally he built up the nerve to approach you now that you were alone, trying to approach casually by picking up a grape from the ornate platter beside you, only to take a bite, realise it was plastic and having to hand it mortified to a waiter that had watched the whole thing from your side. He could feel the blood burning in his cheeks as he watched you try and stifle a laugh, both mortified that you already knew he was a fool and pleased that he'd been able to bring a smile to your face this evening.

"Yeah yeah fuck you." He laughed as he stopped just in front of you, all the words he'd planned to share failing him now that he was close enough to see the beauty in your sincere smile as you shook your head,

"Really I should thank you, now I'm one step closer to figuring out what's actually edible here." You replied with a warmth that almost made Roman recoil, so used to the icy chill he usually received from those around him.

"Well certainly not that whiskey." He nodded to the short crystal glass you'd been trying to put down since Frank handed it to you, tone sarcastic but without the cutting edge he was usually one to deliver. "Why is that the one thing these old fucks actually like to be their own age?" As you laughed again Roman felt a little victorious, he had set himself a pretty low bar but he was confident he was going to be the highlight of your evening.

- As you spent the next week being dragged to different events, you'd always find Roman slinking to your side before the night was through, as if you'd always been old friends, just counting down the hours of everyone else's company. You'd counter his one-liners and then ask him where he'd rather be on a Friday night and make him realise he didn't really know any other kind of night. So when you'd list off your weekend plans, and hobbies and interests, and tell him stories about your friends that had his hyena laugh echoing across the otherwise solemn room, he'd start to realise just how much he was missing out on, and how much he wanted to explore that with you as his guide.

- It stopped being enough, just finding you on odd evenings. Roman would start finding your desk at Waystar, pretending to just be wandering through a junior office coincidentally. He'd glance at his wrist, ignoring the fact he'd forgotten to put on a watch this morning, and comment that as 'technically kind of your boss' he needed to make sure his best employees were actually taking a lunch break, and also were you hungry? Sometimes during the day he'd just melt onto the floor beside your desk, chatting about nothing as you tried your best to type and pay him the attention he so desperately craved. He'd start having all of his meetings in the rooms on your floor so he could wave at you as he walked past the huge glass windows keeping your team contained, an apt metaphor for the walls up inside him he was worried you'd never cross.

- Poor insecure Roman, he'd really try and force himself to ask you out, but ultimately he'd be so afraid of the potential backlash of rejection, that it would be up to you to finally ask if he wanted to grab a drink after work, one Friday when he'd been particularly clingy. You'd take him to a fun, casual bar and watch his eye's light up at people playing darts or ordering fried food and generally the nice, relaxed atmosphere where he didn't feel he had to be the smartest person in the room. Occasionally a friend of yours would walk in a wave and ask how you were doing, and you'd introduce Roman as your friend with no shame or regret and he'd say something funny and get the same rush of pride at making you laugh that he did the first time, and he'd feel like maybe the more time he spent getting to know you, the better he could see himself, still young at heart but not the kid he once was. His lost childhood and misspent youth given a second chance as you offered to see him again next weekend.

- Once you open the affectionate floodgates Roman would be the clingiest koala you can imagine. He'd rarely be as direct as holding your hand, especially not in public, conscious of looking just like his father with a younger woman on his arm. But in the privacy of your little apartment, the one Roman fell in love with the moment he saw it, he'd take a slightly threadbare throw and toss it over the both of you as he all but crumbled into your lap when he wanted to talk about something he thought would make you run. Opening up about his father's wrath and his warped view of himself, glancing up periodically to check you hadn't ran away and left him behind, finding softness in your eyes instead of disappointment and sinking even more deeply into you.

- Roman would think you are an absolute fucking genius for everything you've done for yourself. Worked hard to be the best at your job? Genius. Manage your own bills and do your own laundry? Genius. Carry a water bottle around and make him drink some when he has a headache and somehow he feels better than he has in years? Genius.

- Roman would follow you to hell and back, but you'll have to forcibly remove him from your apartment when you want to go outside. He's never been somewhere that actually felt like home, every soft furnishing and mismatched bowl making him want to haunt your halls forever. If you ever make him a home cooked meal, he'll act like it's not a big deal, but honestly he's crying inside that anyone would go through the effort for him, and that he was the person they chose to be around. Cut to him going thrifting with you to buy five new dishes for you to cook in next time, plus anything else you like.

- Occasionally you'll successfully get him outside for a hike, or a walk, or even a day at a museum or arcade; and Roman will go full toddler on you. Pointing at everything excitedly, running around and shrieking, making sure he was your undivided attention and dragging you by the hand to look at everything. By the time you're home you're ready to collapse, only to notice Roman surreptitiously placing a little souvenir somewhere on your shelf, sneakily bought from a gift shop while you were in the bathroom, before pretending he has no idea how it got there.

- Roman is so enraptured by the incredible, rounded human-being that you are, that eventually some of your self-belief would start to rub off on him, making him feel more sure of himself than he ever has before. Thinking less about the approval of others (except you, he still desperately wants that), feeling confident in his ideas, and no longer feeling like he's stuck in Peter Pan mode - despite falling for someone ten years his junior, Roman would finally feel like he was becoming the man he was always supposed to be, thanks to you.

Let me know if you want a part two of this!

[spxllcxstxr]

Shitshow at the Soulmate Factory • R.R

(Gif not mine)

Request: Please I'm begging on hands and knees, I'll take any Roman or Tom fic. Anything. I would do desperate things for it. Kisses xxx! I honestly love the countdown soulmate au, just running into each other unexpectedly is a really adorable thing for me. Maybe they are late from somewhere and they run into reader, could be whatever. You can also ignore it. If I may I would like she/her reader, but I'm fine with gender neutral reader also. — anon

Summary: In less than twenty-four hours you’ll meet your soulmate. Your friend drags you to some weird underground private party

Warnings: soulmate AU, logan roy mention (also quick mention of abuse), mention of drugs and alcohol and all that shit, not a lot of dialogue I’m sorry lmao, 9/11 mention? (iykyk)

Word Count: 1.5k

A.N: first Roman fic!!! This was actually going to be a blurb and then I kept fucking writing. I hope his characterization is ok, if you have any tips don’t be afraid to let me know!! Hope you all enjoy!

•

Roman had never cared for the timer on the inside of his elbow. The black bold numbers inked permanently into his flesh. It was always hidden away underneath expensive suit shirts and well-tailored business jackets. It was a ticking time bomb; never to be acknowledged until it finally blew him to bits.

Or, in this case, meet his soulmate (though to him, that was one and the same).

It's not like he wasn't curious about who some higher power judged to be his soulmate--because he was. It was, however, more of a morbid curiosity. He was Roman Roy for fuck's sake, no one should be tied to him.

His father never talked about his own timer, the one time he ever asked about it he got backhanded so hard he face planted onto the tiled floor beneath his feet. That was that. He laughed it off afterwards, when Ken was placing ice against his bruised cheek. He really should've known.

Kendall had spent months convincing Rome and his other siblings that his timer went off when he first met Rava in college, though they got divorced so he highly doubted that was the case. And if it was? Well shit. That didn't bode well for the rest of them.

Shiv's situation confirmed that he was doomed. Despite Roman being in charge of her soon-to-be husband's bachelor party, his sister once drunkenly confided in him that her timer had went off years before she even heard the name Tom Wambsgans. The next morning, when she called him with a splitting headache, she said she couldn't remember anything she told him the night before. She was fucked too.

Connor was Connor and Roman was sure he had ranted about his at one point, but whatever goes in one ear goes out the other with him.

So when Roman glances at his timer in the mirror it feels like a cooler full of ice water just got dumped on him. His body is frozen but his skin crawls with anxiety. Today was the day. In less than twenty-four hours he was to meet the person he was destined to be with.

What a sick cosmic joke.

He bites his nails and paces the length of his kitchen as he waits for his driver to get to his apartment. By the time he's seated in the back of the car with the smell of worn leather overwhelming his senses the thought is pushed so far back in his mind that he barely remembers why his fingers are absentmindedly stroking the inside of his elbow.

You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite.

The timer on your wrist was frequently the topic of discussion both with your friends and in your personal journal. It had always been exciting, the guaranteed notion that you were going to meet the love of your life.

Your friends had married their soulmates which had made you believe even more in the timer. The people around you were happy with what the universe had promised and you just wanted that to be you already. You were content waiting but that never stopped you from watching the numbers tick down whenever you could spare a glance.

The childish romanticism of the timer never faded throughout your life.

It kept you going--you woke up in the morning because you needed to know what, or, rather who, the universe had in store for you.

You were jittery in the morning. Not just because your friend was forcing you to join her and a couple others at some underground private club, but also because your timer had indicated that today, of all days, you were going to meet your soulmate. Every inch of you buzzed with excitement.

Toying with your bottom lip you wait for your friend to pick you up. This party would be it, you determined.

It was going to be a dream come true.

The club sucks.

They had taken your phone at the door, the music is way too loud, and your drink tastes sour when it should be sweet. Not to mention the amount of people having sex in every corner of almost every room.

Your friends ditched you about an hour ago and your timer still has an hour left.

Taking a sip of your drink your face scrunches in disgust. Your eyes focus on the drinks behind the bar, the colorful glasses occupying your vision so you don’t accidentally make eye contact with the drugged up people around you. The pungent smell of weed surrounds you.

You sit and watch the bartenders dart across the space behind the bar, mixing and pouring drinks expertly. Men and women approach you occasionally, but you’re not interested in conversation if your timer doesn’t go off.

You wish you had Twitter to at least occupy your mind.

“Hey, I’m Connor.”

You turn to face the man to your right, his grey hair and piercing blue eyes are nice, but your timer doesn’t go off so what’s the point?

“Not interested.” Taking a quick sip of your drink you turn away from the man.

“Oh come on, I just want to chat,” He sits next to you, nursing his own drink. He smells of alcohol and expensive cologne. “Say, where were you on 9/11?”

Your eyebrows shoot up in shock, eyeing the man trying to find any hint of a joke. He looks completely serious.

“Where was I on 9/11?”

“Yeah, I mean, I gotta make sure…y’know what I mean?” He shrugs at you, still waiting for your answer.

Subtly you glance down at your wrist, the numbers now under a minute. Slowly you smile, nerves washing over your entire being.

You get up from the bar stool, drink in hand. “Try that on another girl, I’m sure it’ll work next time.”

Passing by people you attempt to get out of the stuffy room when someone knocks into your shoulder. It’s not hard, but it certainly warranted some kind of apology.

You turn around only to see the other person doing the same.

Your breath hitches when you hear the noise���it’s crystal clear and high pitched, like a bell. Eyes widening you stare at the stranger in shock.

“Oh fuck.” His brown eyes widen at the noise, the realization washing over him. “Shit so you’re—you’re my…?” With one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair he looks you up and down.

“You’re my soulmate…” You say, just above the music. The air feels as if it’s been punched out of your lungs.

The man’s eyes can’t seem to stay still.

Your own eyes run over his handsome figure. His clothes imply at least a decent amount of money—his white dress shirt crisp and recently pressed. The sleeves, however, are rolled up to his elbow exposing his forearms. Your face heats up at this; the casual gesture being a lot more attractive than it should be.

Swallowing down the thoughts and the bubbling nerves you extend your hand.

“(Y/n) (L/n).” You smile, hoping to ease the tension.

“Oh uh, yeah—yes.” He stutters, hand taking your own. His palms are a bit sweaty but he has a nice firm grip. “Roman Roy.”

Roy—well that explains a lot. So far the universe has got good taste.

Your hand tingles as you pull it back to your side. Biting your lip you take him in again, how he flexes his jaw and drums his fingers against his hip bone. The music pumping throughout the room becomes muffled as you focus solely on Roman Roy.

It seems he has a difficult time tearing his eyes away from your own, but eventually he’s successful at examining the expensive watch on his wrist.

“Oh shit fucking damnit…” He mutters, brows furrowing momentarily before softening when his gaze lands back on you. “I gotta go, I have this stupid fucking meeting…” Apologetically he steps closer to you. You deflate a bit at this. “It’s just big company stuff, I’m sorry. Can I uh…can I get your number though?”

Smirking at the question, you nod. Excitement courses through your veins again. “Do you have a pen?”

“A pen? What is it 1999?”

“They took my phone at the door, dumbass, I assume they took yours too.” You snort teasingly.

“Shit.” He pats his body, searching for anything in his pocket. He’s quite quick about it and eventually he finds a shitty black pen with barely any ink in it.

Giggling you write your number down on his forearm before handing the pen back to him.

“You better call me, Roman Roy. I know where you work.” You wink, toying with your bottom lip again.

He flushes at that, cheeks turning pink as his eyes settle on your lips.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna call you.” Clumsily he winks back before turning around and getting caught in the crowd, heading to whatever meeting he had.

Setting down your drink on the nearest table you head the opposite direction, towards the exit, cheeks aching from the satisfied smile on your face.

•

[hughiecampbelle]

Venom (Roy!Sibling x Roy Family)

((SUCCESSION FINALE SPOILERS))

Characters: Kendall, Roman, Shiv, Connor, Matsson, Tom

Word Count: 1,477

Tag List: @locke-writes

A/N: This is omg y'all!!! Y'all aren't ready ahhh!!!! That's all I can say :P Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

You watch them, horrified. Kendall stop! You’re yelling, trying not to let them hear the crack in your voice, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to hear. He spits venom at your sister, calling her two-faced, saying terrible things about her. She pretends it doesn’t hurt, pretends it doesn’t kill her. The kinds of things Logan would have said. Stop it, now! None of them hear you. None of them see you. You’re invisible now, like you’ve always been. The baby, underestimated from day one because of your order of birth. Roman says something, something you’re not hearing, but seeing. Watching. About his kids. Low blow. Kendall goes for his neck. There are moments like this where you watch your father instead of your brother. Such an angry, bitter, paranoid man. With his hands around him, you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. His name is on the tip of your tongue. Logans, but that is the wrong man before you. This is Kendall. You get between them, prying his hands off Roman. In doing so, you’ve put yourself in the line of fire. His eyes are so wild, so angry. Get off me! You yell, pushing him away, but he’s too strong. He’s too powerful. He holds you against the glass, his hands around your throat, hungry enough to bite. Rabid. You can’t breathe, fighting him off, unable to make any noise. Finally he realizes it’s you. You, not Rome, not Shiv, you. His baby. He lets go immediately, stepping back, stuttering. You can’t help it, the tears begin to run down your cheeks. You saw fury in his eyes, purebred wrath. If he wanted, he could have killed you. Just like Logan. You push through them, out the door, down the hall and towards the elevator. Kendall calls your name quieter now, defeated, ashamed. You don’t turn back. Sniffling, you wait for the doors to close, trying to catch your breath. You dial the number. I knew you’d call. . . 

They turned on one another. They’d decided he would be their successor. The three of them, after Roman disappeared. You were the only one he talked to on the phone, Caroline losing the power to guilt you. You weren’t her child. That was to your advantage. She put him on with strict warnings not to upset him, saying he was fragile. He sounded softer, beaten down, but as defensive as ever. Ken and Shiv are on their way, you warned. I know. He didn’t have enough in him to fight or to joke. He was all facts. Are you okay? Me? I’m fine. You knew he wasn’t, but you weren’t going to go there to see him. You had plans. For now, you had to take his word for it. You weren’t going to ask him for his vote. Quite frankly, it didn’t matter anymore. They could pretend they still had precedence, that the crown they wore could protect them from a beheading. Their heads rolled just the same when dismembered from a body. In fact, it was the crown that weighed them down. They forgot this, racing with one another about who could get to him the fastest. It wouldn’t matter in the end. When would they realize this? When would they accept it already? I have to go, call me if you want, okay? What are you doing that’s so important? Just meeting a friend. 

What about Tom? Tom? He is nothing. You shouldn’t but you laugh. Your drink is strong, his even stronger. But you trust him, you believe him. He can’t be backstabbing everyone. Besides, the x’s have been removed. Yours in their place. You take a look around the bar. Expensive. Oskar and Ebba keeping to themselves off to the side. They come when he says so. They sit when he says so. Now he’s holding a pen. Would you do the same? Your whole life, all you’ve done is follow. Follow your brothers and sister into any war they brought between them and your father, into every media frenzy and disaster because they convinced you it was always in your best interest. It wasn’t, though. It never was. In the end, it was always you getting hurt, taking the blow, having your name smeared across the headlines. From the moment he saw you he’s been trying to save you. They would hold your head under water and tell you they were helping you be a better swimmer. They were trying to kill you, drown you, just so there would be one less body in the pool. You were doing this for you, for them too. To show them that you weren’t just some lap dog they could order around. You were just as much a Roy as any of them. More so, even. You were smarter, you were savvy. You could get what you wanted, you always had. 

Going in, you were meant to warn them. That was the plan. Always. The deal seemed enticing, it was the cherry on top, but you couldn’t hurt them like that. You would not turn into them. But, then they decided on Kendall. Without consulting you, without even asking. They had decided for the family when there were still two more to consider. You knew what Connor would have done, you all did. He would have put up a fight, but in the end would have agreed. You? You were going to warn them. You were going to put out the fire before the house burned down with them in it. Instead they called you from the car that morning, on their way back, telling you he was next. He would be in charge. Had they even considered you? Roman laughs. The baby doesn’t get to be in charge, ever. Kendall chuckled. You didn’t get a vote or say, it was decided. You bit the inside of your cheek, letting the conversation fall. They spoke around you anyways, making all these big decisions without you. It was fine, you decided, hanging up. It was fine. You would tell them when they got here. It wasn’t technically a secret, they just hadn’t asked. That was all. So, you accepted that Kendall would take over. After everything you’ve been through, after everything they put you through, at least there would be an ending. Your phone rang, but you ignored him. Fine, you though, at least it’s staying in the family. You weren’t about to turn bitter. You weren’t about to turn vengeful. 

And then she threw the plan away the minute she could, believing that Tom would be Matsson’s CEO. You were going to tell them, really. As soon as that glass door closed, you were going to spill your guts. About him, about the deal, about everything. You swear on your father’s grave, you were going to tell them. And then he put his hands on you, around your neck, and any alliance you had was over. Any good graces you had left vanished. You wanted them to burn in that house. You wanted the whole world to burn. You put up with enough. With too much for far too long. He’s been trying to save you since you met, giving you outs from the maze you were in. You couldn’t leave them, they were your family. Now? Now they were nothing. They were strangers. You watched the bruises form in the reflective doors all the way down, listening to him carefully. If you still want it, it’s yours. Good. What about Tom? Like I said, he is nothing. Nobody. All you have to do is sign.

Roman and Shiv came back from that meeting, his stitches bloody. She wears a knowing look, the kind that says she thinks she’s won. He signed in front of everyone, in front of Matsson, who signs the stack of legal documents after. I’d like to announce my CEO. Shiv steps forward, but you come up behind her, around Roman, to Lukas’ side. Please welcome, Y/N Roy. Everyone applauds you as you sign your name. Roman’s jaw hangs open before catches himself, then looks to your sister. Her lips remain in a tight line. Tom looks surprised for the both of them, trying to get close to Lukas, but is unable to with all the cameras. Thank you, you whisper to him. You deserve this. You are the most capable Roy. You would have told them, you were going to, but this tastes so much better. You don’t care that your skin till hurts, still burns from his touch. You don’t care that your brother drifts away or that your sister storms off. You don’t care that Kendall is nowhere to be found. You don’t care about them anymore, they never did about you, not when it came to this.  

You win.

[richeeduvie]

I love to stir the pot… imagine if when Logan and baby came out about her being pregnant, Kendall or Roman made some snarky remark about her getting an abortion

Glassed

Roman's looking like he's about to say something filled with blood, that it's about to burst on the tip of his tongue with his head low. His finger presses against his glass. You think he's been getting drunk, or...you know so.

You can't stop yourself from knowing him, even after all this time.

You don't catch Kendall's look or two at your bump. It's there, even in all it's slightness. You roll your head. Logan takes a bite of his meal. It's been a hard day for everyone. The pregnancy, perfectly difficult and cryptic means you're away from Waystar more often. So, you don't have all the details of what went down in the offices, but the tense, Roy routine silence and smooth but snarked banter tells you enough about the day. Logan's gone into another fight with his children.

"So, Pop - are we going to find out if Roy number five is a girl or boy or we'll they pop out as a genital-less surprise?"

Connor smiles sheepishly. You smile at him, taking Logan's hand.

"I've left it up to the patriarch of the house to decide."

"Each one of you were left up to chance, the next one will be no different."

"Abortion at the gender reveal would be fun."

Roman's soft and standard humor hits your heart like a baseball bat. Things clink and go quiet.

Except for your baby, who kicks - it would be something to celebrate and your muscles feel it so, but not with the silence. Not at this moment.

You turn over your fork, looking at the way Roman doesn't look at you.

"Let's not talk about abortion when the pregnant party is very willing to give this family another little member, Rome-"

Connor tries, turned to Roman. Roman clicks his head to the right as he scratches his cheek.

"You have a lot of material. Throw yourself a gender reveal party and when you and Dad cut into a cake - I mean, just imagine it, a coat hanger and baby bits in black and red icing-"

Before Roman's words can really hit you, his words are broken by the way glass crashes and cracks against the wall - just past him and his curled up upper body.

Clinking and yelling and everything else ensues. You realize your hand isn't holding Logan's anymore.

"Dad! What the fuck?"

"Jesus Christ."

Kendall's up and in Logan's face, Shiv's wide eyed with Tom's arm around her shoulders. Pissed, everyone's pissed or in panic.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

It's Frank's hand on your shoulder. "It wasn't me who was almost glassed. I'm fine, you okay?"

"I-"

"I'm fine! I'm fine, not the worst thing Dad, I'm fine, Dad. But not the worst thing I've ever said either. That gets a glass?"

It takes a one-second glance at his father, at your low-browed husband who still sits in his chair.

"Sorry, sorry - enough with the snaps. Fuck."

"What business is it of yours to defend his words, you want to stare down at me?"

"Throwing a glass during fucking dinner? Are you-"

"Everyone, just calm down!"

"I'm going, I've got chips in my ear."

Roman's himself when this type of thing happens to him. And it has, over and over and over. He pulls on his ear on the way out. You forget, with a hand to your stomach, that it's not Caroline or Marcia that has to settle Logan.

It's you. But you just swallow instead.

"I have to-I have to use the bathroom."

Logan barely listens with all his redden eyes baring into his second eldest son. You move out quickly, heels clicking against the floor.

You make your way to the bathroom. Your heart beats against little kicks.

Somehow, this is where you're the small one out of the two of you. The white and gold-trimmed door creaks and puts the sight of Roman dabbing his ear in front of you.

"Fuck your baby. Look what your baby did. If I was the one that stuffed you, it would've gotten my humor, but it'll probably get Dad's aim. It was better when we were younger, right?"

"...I think they found it funny. Do you wanna feel?"

Anything to make him feel better. It's instinctual.

You swallow. Roman looks at you through the mirror. He blinks and holds his bloodied tissue up.

"Wanna lick?"

"This is the second time they've kicked. They know how to take a joke, I think."

Then he's not looking at you and you would know what he thinks, even then - but the moment where both of you exist, unfortunately...you just want him to touch you.

Platonically, to feel his sibling kick. To feel him.

You watch Roman's throat bob and turn. His eyes follow your hand to your bump.

His throat bobs again as he kneels. He presses the red of his ear to your stomach.

He presses in. You watch his quick, uneven blinking at each kick - each flutter.

"At least someone can get that I'm the only one that says what we're all thinking."

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Turmoil: Chapter 3

Roman Roy x Reader

a/n: idk what it is guys, but I kind of hate this chapter. I feel like I didn’t hit the nail on the head this time but instead hit someone in the face. garbage writing aside, I hope you enjoy x :,)

Word Count: 2.186k

Your new apartment isn’t much of an upgrade, but it’s still nice, and you’re confident you’ll be able to turn it into your own.

After his drunken confession in the car, Roman had cried, thrown up in the toilet, and promptly passed out on the couch. You think it’s best you let him sleep. He’s exhausted himself like a toddler unaware of their body.

You sit cross legged on the armchair adjacent to the couch, leaving you able to keep an eye on Roman. Sure, he was an asshole, but he’d had way too much to drink and you didn’t want him to hurt himself.

The only part of getting a new apartment that miffed you was the fact that Logan had made sure it was a single bedroom. When you’d asked him about it, he’d given you some bullshit about how you had to keep up appearances. You know it’s about the money, but you find it pointless to say so.

You decide that since you have to stay up to make sure Roman doesn’t kill himself in his drunken stupor, you’ll start on the paperwork for Connor’s lawsuit. If he really wants to waste your time, like Roman had suggested, he’d found the perfect way to do it. You begin drafting, Roman tossing and turning.

As you begin to fill out the same forms you had many times before, your mind floats elsewhere. What Roman had said in the car had admittedly made your heart flutter. The idea that there could actually be something between you two was something, to your dismay, that you wanted to explore. But because he was so damn drunk, you can’t take anything he said seriously. You doubt he’ll even remember anything when he wakes up.

He keeps shifting in his sleep, troubled, and from your vantage point you can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

You set aside your laptop and find a clean towelette in the kitchen. You get some ice from the fridge, chill some water, and dunk the rag into it before bringing it back to the living room.

Perching on the edge of the sofa, you gently coax Roman onto his back and drape the cool rag across his forehead after gently pushing his hair out of the way. He visibly relaxes, lips parting in a sigh.

Your heart aches a little, staring down at him. In another world, this might have worked.

But you have to stay in your current reality. And the lawsuit wouldn’t draft itself.

You don’t realize you fell asleep until you wake up the next morning. Your laptop still sits on your lap, and the stiffness in your joints is searing. Roman’s not there anymore. You don’t think he’s even in the apartment. So much for you staying to take care of him.

You find your phone on the floor. No messages from Roman, and you know the apartment is empty now. You sigh, feeling a bit dumb.

There is, however, an obscene amount of text messages from Connor. You deign not to respond, for your own mental health. Apart from Connor making you want to chuck your phone into the Hudson, there’s a message you actually find a little endearing.

At the dinner you’d asked Shiv to give your number to Greg so you two could sort things out for when you had to go to Norway.

xxx-xxx-xxxx; Unknown

Y/N,

Congratulations on your engagement, you will make a beautiful bride! I know we have some things to figure out, so I’d like to take you out for a friendly dinner. Please forward my congratulations to Roman. He has me blocked on everything.

Gregory Hirsch

You type out a response, biting back a laugh. You both agree to a casual dinner in a few days time- your treat, you insisted.

You mute Connor, who’s continued to spam you, and scroll through your emails when Kendall gives you a call. You pick up, and he asks, “Is bribery a felony?”

“Yeah, but it depends.”

“So. Hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically…”

“A man owns a large conglomerate that earns him millions. A certain politician runs a campaign that, if they were to come into power, would destroy said company from inside out because of some, er, under the table acquisitions…”

“A monopoly?”

“That’s the word. This person can’t come into power, that’d ruin things. But how do you get someone to lose that’s statistically projected to win?”

“What connections does Logan fucking have?” you hiss.

“Not on here.” Kendall sighs. “Is Roman with you? He won’t pick up his phone.”

“He got completely blackout drunk last night and passed out on the couch. I don’t know where he is.”

“He’ll turn up. Don’t worry. Board meeting in two days, okay?” He hangs up. You don’t dislike Kendall at all, he just has his… own way with words.

You’re pretty sure you can get away with working from home today. You’ll have your assistant fax whatever crosses your desk while you rot on the couch.

She does. The pictures Connor promised come through, and you thumb through them absentmindedly. Some rings, a Rolex, a jade bracelet, more expensive bullshit you don’t think anyone needs. You’ll tally the prices, inflate for ‘emotional damage’ and your time, and serve the hotel.

Your assistant texts you something about Connor bitching about the jade bracelet and how it’s one of a kind and you need to get it back. You make a note to get her a fancy gift for putting up with this bullshit.

You’re happy to have a calm day to yourself. You lounge around on the couch, idly doing some work. You hear a key moving around in the lock before Roman shoulders the door open.

He falters when he sees you.

“Uh, I’m home.”

You look up at him blankly.

“What? What’s with that face?”

You sigh and turn back to your computer.

“Hey,” he whines. “What’d I do?”

“You got drunk, fell asleep on the couch, then got up and left in the early morning without telling anyone where you went.”

He kicks his shoes off by the door then comes over and flops down next to you. “I’m here now.”

“Whatever.”

“I don’t like this side of you. You’re making me feel guilty.”

“Maybe you’re feeling guilty because you did something wrong.”

“I literally remember nothing from last night. I woke up early and went to the gym. That’s it.”

“Kendall’s been trying to contact you.”

“Yeah. Board meeting.” He props his feet up into your lap. “Can we talk?”

“About?”

“Us.”

You sigh and set your laptop on the coffee table.

“I know I’m a jerk. And I know I was a dick the day we met. And the day after that. And this morning.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. “So I thought I’d atone for my sins and get you something.” He shifts, replacing his feet with his head and instead letting his legs stretch out on the couch. With one hand, he takes yours and sets it on his chest, and uses the other one to pop the box open.

You can swear you’ve seen that ring in your dreams before. It’s gorgeous- perfect, even. And it’s the right size.

“Roman,” is all you can say.

“Give me your left hand.”

You do, and he slips the ring onto your left hand’s ring finger. He inspects it, albeit lopsidedly from his vantage point tucked up in your lap.

“Are you sure you remember nothing from yesterday?” you ask quietly, your other hand still perched on his chest.

“Not a lick. Difficult day.” He shifts his gaze to meet yours. “I think, despite everything, we can be friends.”

Friends.

“Yeah.” You pause. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”

“It’s the only thing I know how to do. Throw money at things.”

☾𖤓

The sting of Roman’s words stay with you for the next few mornings, then when you’re getting ready for the board meeting. You don’t really know why you’re disappointed. What were you expecting? Why were you expecting anything in the first place?

He’d left for Waystar much earlier than you did. There’s a weird sort of tension between you now, even after your conversation. You’re wearing the ring. You can’t bring yourself to take it off.

You finish getting ready and find yourself in the harsh lighting at Waystar. You close your eyes in the elevator, the fluorescent lighting pissing you off more than usual.

“Hey, everything alright?” Greg Hirsch nudges you gently as the elevator lurches.

“Oh, hey!” You try to snap yourself out of it, but you can’t seem to get rid of the strain in your eyes. “Yeah. Fine.”

“I know things get pretty stressful. Especially in the position you’re in. Things get quite difficult.” He glances down at you. “Um, that sounded like a threat. Which it wasn’t. I’m on your side, to be clear.”

You chuckle. “I appreciate it, Greg.” You talk about nothing as he walks you to the conference room, and he gives you an encouraging pat on the shoulder before you step in. Kendall looks like he’s about to shit himself, Roman’s face down on the table, and the few others that are there are concerned with themselves. Kendall gives you a stiff nod, his leg bouncing up and down.

“Forget how to breathe?” you ask him, trying to lighten the mood. He ignores you and keeps himself locked in his self-imposed hell. Roman sits up at the sound of your voice, pulling out your chair for you. As you settle in, the room begins to fill.

Logan Roy is late.

When he actually does decide to grace the room with his presence, it’s twenty minutes past the meeting start time. Kendall hasn’t gotten any calmer, and Roman’s chewing on his cheek. He leans towards you and whispers, “What if he knows?”

“If he knew, he’d have all our asses on the curb.” Even you’re beginning to get restless. “Does he always do this?”

“He’s always late, but never…” He’s hushed by his father hobbling into the conference room on a cane. The brothers exchange a glance you could never begin to understand, and Kendall gets to his feet.

“Sit, I’m fine,” Logan rasps. Kendall reluctantly obeys. “Don’t mind me, folks. I had an… accident on the way.”

Roman throws you a look that says what the fuck? and drags a hand over his jaw.

Thankfully, that’s all that Kendall needs. “You’re late.”

Logan scoffs. “What’re you going to do, fire me?”

Kendall swallows. “Just extending you the same courtesy that you would me.”

Frank clears his throat, and Kendall steels himself.

“I’m calling a vote of no confidence,” he blurts.

“Are you?”

“I am.”

Father and son stare at each other from different ends of the table. “You’re not.”

“That’s, uh, not how this works,” Kendall continues. “We vote in private. Then the verdict speaks for itself.”

“I’m not leaving this room,” Logan insists. “And I know how fucking corporate politics work.” His gaze sears over everyone gathered. “Did we know about this?”

He does another sweep of the room before his eyes land on you. You give a minute shake of your head.

Suddenly, he slams his hands on the table. “Fucking go on, then. Who wants me gone?”

The room is silent. You can feel your stomach churning. Roman sits tense next to you, barely moving- barely breathing.

“Let’s, uh, put it to a vote, then.” Kendall shakily gets to his feet. “All those in favor of ejecting Logan Roy from position as CEO of Waystar?” He’s the first to raise his hand, and you raise yours not long after. Three partners follow your lead. You turn to Roman.

His hands are tucked firmly under his arms. He stares blankly at the ground, seemingly dazed. You can see the emotions warring in his eyes. But you have no sympathy.

You begin to bristle, and Kendall lets out a strangled breath.

“A tie,” Kendall says deflatedly.

“I have two votes,” Logan practically shouts. “I’m going to ruin you,” he spits at Kendall. You give Roman a nasty look then push yourself to your feet.

“It’s not a tie. Nor did you win,” you begin, raising your voice as you go. “You are the subject of this vote. You are legally not allowed in this room, Mr. Roy. Any vote you cast is regarded as null and void. As your lawyer, I advise you to take your things and leave.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “I did not get a degree from Harvard Law for you to so blatantly disrespect it to my face. Your time here is over. Get out before I call the police and have them escort you.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he murmurs lowly.

“Really? Perhaps I will when we go to trial. You have quite a few hefty criminal charges hanging above your head, Mr. Roy. I’d hate to see them fall.”

[vclvetfleur]

Obedient Chapter 13

roman roy x fem!reader

Summary: You and Jess haven't spoken in a while. You finally decide to confront her on the plane to Dundee. While Roman is still in deep denial over his father's abuse.

TW: trauma talk, child neglect, degradation

Word Count: 5k

Notes: SOrry for taking so long. I have been not knowing where to lead this and I had to focus on French class lately.

Chapter 13: A Clockwork Orange

You heard Roman till he had finally fallen asleep. You both agreed that he couldn’t just let his father just sweep that under the rug. You even convinced Roman not to forgive. You knew it was a lot to ask, but you wanted him to heal. And bending and forgiving was not going to do anything for him or Logan. Except make Logan think Roman was just as weak as he thought he was. You woke up before him, making him an appointment to go see a dentist to fix his tooth as soon as possible. You were still in shock. You couldn’t help but stare at it as it was laid on the counter, dried blood on the end of it. You put a tissue over it, not wanting to be reminded of it. You felt sorry for Roman. You were in his place years ago. You were him when you didn’t realize that your parents would never change.

They weren’t going to. They never did. Not for you at least. You had gotten older, moving from home to home depending on if your parents wanted to deal with you or not. You had been sent to aunts, uncles, grandmas, grandpas, and family friends. You had only come back after your parents had your sibling. And there it was. They changed. But not for you. Not towards you. But towards her. You had gotten updates, hearing about their new golden star child. How nothing has made them happier. You wished you could stand up to protect her, but you didn’t have to. She got the parents you wished for.

A part of you wished you got them, but you knew you weren’t worth changing for in their eyes. And Roman wasn’t worth changing for either.

You brushed your teeth, staring at your phone. You always wondered if an unknown number would maybe one day be them. But that was you just getting your hopes up for an unrealistic fantasy. You looked at Roman, sleeping. You were glad he finally got his moment of peace after what had happened last night. You came back to back, scrolling through your phone and making notes for Roman. Today was a day Roman wouldn’t be in the office anyway, so you just wanted him to relax. But still do things before having to go back to the office. You were sure Roman wasn’t gonna go to the office with a tooth missing. It would only create talk. He also didn’t need any media seeing him like that.

You felt Roman stirring himself awake, moving his head away from the light as it shined in. “Morning Rome…” You told him, running your fingers through his hair. You were busy texting Eduard, trying to set up some kind of meeting with Roman. It would possibly be the biggest fuck you to his father if he landed a major deal with another billionaire when Logan had just messed up the deal with Nan. Logan had exploded at the show that you both missed, where Rhea and Nan followed him and told him the deal was off. This was all relayed to you by Shiv. She had kept checking up on Roman the entire night and you just sent her updates when you could. Despite their rocky relationship and the fact they never really got along with one another. And the constant fighting and yelling and hitting. They deeply cared. Shiv and Roman were the most verbally aggressive with one another, but had so much in common when it came to their dad than they did with Kendall. Kendall was Logan’s pride. He basically removed Kendall from their mom and obsessed over his future. He was the only thing that mattered. He had sent Connor away and was now worrying about one kid. Then Roman came along, but Kendall was just something else. Then a certain incident made Roman act quieter, more reserved. Which in turn made Logan a lot more harder on him. He was seen as weak. Not as good as Kendall. Not that he really paid him much mind, but the fact that Roman was more emotional and was now suddenly quieter, it only made Logan resent him more. A child at the age of 7 was now weak and not fit to be CEO forever. But his other son, who even at the age of 3 was set for the CEO job. Then came Shiv. Logan was disappointed about having a girl. Carolina was a little excited but was too busy with her own issues to care enough. She completely abandoned her children when Shiv was born. Shiv never mattered. Only if she started to be prettier than Carolina. Then Carolina tried to compete and force and embarrass Shiv. Even only uplifting Roman to make Shiv feel worse. But once Shiv stopped looking for the attention of her mother, she played with Kendall’s games of using Roman for the attention of their dad.

Roman was the weird one. And Shiv was the girl.

The two outcasts of the family. Both not good enough for anything.

Not even their dad.

So, despite their distain for one another, at least they weren’t Kendall.

Kendall only checked in on Roman from Shiv. He did his best. He had to physically protect Roman. He was smaller. He wasn’t able to when they were younger. Kendall felt a duty to always physically be there for Roman. Trying to be there emotionally never worked because Roman was too scared to ever open up. His emotions got him in trouble. He never knew when the right time was to ever open up.

So as result of Connor’s absence as older brother, he had to pick up the role and protect Roman physically from Logan. He could only protect him so much. He started to protect him more once he had gotten tall enough. Logan was never scared of his kids though. He knew what power he had over them.

Either way, they all did their parts as siblings as best as they could with the father and mother they were given. They made a lot of mistakes on the way, but there was an effort.

“Morning…” Roman mumbled under the sheets, covering his mouth with the comforter. He didn’t want you to see him without his tooth there. It made him even more insecure than he already was. He knew that you already had, but something in his mind told him you’d run if you saw it. That he’d be too much or something like that. His mind was controlling his logic. “How are you feeling?” You asked, pulling yourself from the phone. You were ready to tell him the news of what you had just done but wanted to ease him into it.

“Fucking great. Uh- can we leave early?” He asked you. You nodded, going back on your phone to make the arrangements. You both were supposed to leave at 11, but you had gotten up early enough. Roman wasn’t ready for the questioning. Roman finally crawled out of bed, going to the bathroom. He had been there for a good 15 minutes, just staring at himself and his missing tooth. It made him feel so ashamed. He never was super secure with how he looked. He knew he wasn’t special, and no one was chasing after him. He was shocked you were decently into him. But the tooth made it so much worse. Another dent in his appearance. Roman hated himself even more. Not only because he hated how he looked, but the tooth was just a reminder of how Logan really felt about him. Roman was never ready to accept that Logan wasn’t a good parent. Logan was abusive. But to Roman, it was his fault. But you helped put it into perspective for him. He finally accepted some part of Logan was abusive and his love wasn’t actual love. His mom, despite being neglectful and instilling terrible ideals and being emotionally unavailable, she loved him. She checked in on him. She held him. She would be there if Roman deeply tried to. Logan was never there for anything. No matter how hard you tried to.

“Rome?” You called out. He barely heard you. You had already gotten dressed, keeping updates on the car that was arriving soon. You knocked before going into the room. You saw him just staring at himself and inspecting little things about his face and appearance. “Hey, the car’s almost here. You almost done?” You asked. He finally snapped out of it, looking at you. He had no idea why you were so willing to be with him when he looked the way he did. But he was so grateful for your standards being that low, in his head. He just put toothpaste on his toothbrush and started brushing his teeth, acting as though he wasn’t just inspecting himself in front of you. “Your appointment today is at 6, by the way.” You mentioned to him. “Wow, thanks, mum.” He joked. His words were slurred with toothpaste foaming his mouth and his brush stuck between the inside of his lips and teeth.

“I know you wanna fuck your mom, Roman, but don’t call me that.” You made a quick comment. You weren’t sure if he fit the Freudian theory, but it wasn’t unlikely.

“If Shiv told you that, tell her to stop acting like I haven’t seen her give Dad fuck me eyes too” Roman shot back. He was of course lying. You’ve seen how Shiv looked at Logan. It was exactly how you looked at your dad when you were in middle school. Just regret and shame for hating him, but such distain and anger for whatever happened.

“I’ll be sure to send her an email about it.” You rolled your eyes. You came up and jumped onto the counter. You looked at him, looking at the details as he was doing earlier. His eyes were so soft. They had bags under them that made them seem slightly sunken. But his personality and other expressions always reminded you he was actually awake. His eyebrows were mostly straightened, but so expressive. For a man who hated showing his emotions, he showed them so much with just his face. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” You asked him. There it was. His eyebrows furrowed, questioning you, but his eyes softened. He didn’t look at you like he was actually confused. Just pleasantly surprised. “I don’t think I have either.” He spits his toothpaste out before starting to brush his tongue. He wasn’t ready yet. He didn’t want to feel all the love you were willing to give. You leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead before dropping yourself off the counter. You went off to the bedroom and began to prep Roman’s things for him and your own stuff. Roman soon came in, wrapping his arms around you. He stood behind you, laying his head on your shoulder. He left a kiss on your jaw before giving another on your cheek and moving close to your ear. He whispered, “You’re gorgeous.” Before moving away from you.

You suppressed a smile, giving it a frown kind of look. You looked at him as he grabbed his clothes and finally started to dress himself. “You saw that in a movie, didn’t you?” You asked him. He looked up, his smile creeping up before nodding.

He buttoned his shirt. “Yeah- I think it was one of those shit movies you’ve shown me lately. Fuck wait- was it ‘Clockwork Orange’?” He asked you. You had shown him your favorite movies lately. Most of the time he talked through them and acted as if he thought they were dumb, but after enough scolding from you, he would quit it. He enjoyed most of them though. Except maybe one of them, but he thought it was too pretentious, trying to say something about something that had no real meaning.

“Oh yea- definitely. Wow, Alex. What a little charmer, huh?” You played along. It definitely wasn’t ‘A Clockwork Orange’.

You both left the room once Roman was settled in. You both had to be escorted through the media, questioning Roman about the scandal. Roman knew better not to make too light of a joke at the moment. Mostly to media.

“God what fucking vultures…” He whispered to you once the door was shut. “Doesn’t ATN do the same thing?” You asked him, calling out on his hypocrisy.

“Shut the fuck up… fucking snowflake…” He mumbled, laying his head back. He reached down, holding your hand in his. It was the most affection he could give you out in public. Plus, he needed it to calm his nerves down.

“I have news by the way… Eduard is willing to meet with you. Next week. He thinks after the scandal has gone through a week, the hype will die down and by the time the deal lands that it’ll mostly be over. So yeah, you're welcome.” You smirked. You were cocky, but after working your way into it, you had convinced him. No one was gonna touch ATN for a while. Not with this scandal around.

“Good job, you did your fucking job.” He teased. He was happy though. You saw it on his face.

You had just made sure Roman was safely home before going to your own home. You needed to decompress after yesterday too. You had just run a bath, done some skincare, and treated yourself to a meal. An actual meal. Not a snack.

You texted Roman to make sure he went to his appointment to just be sent a photo of him in the dentist's chair. You saved it to your phone. You were tempted to text Jess. You stared at her number for a while. You swallowed your fear of rejection and finally texted.

‘hey. are you ready to talk?’

You watched the delivered notification turn into Read 7:19 PM.

Then 3 text bubbles coming up. For them to disappear quickly. You didn’t get anything from her all night. Not even in the morning.

She did not speak to you for days.

Waystar seemed to be in a worse state than it ever had been.

Sandy and Stewy were trying to get shareholders and attacking the company. The scandal had gotten worse and now they were scrambling with investors.

Roman had even told you about how Logan even claimed to never hit Roman. It hurt, but it made Roman truly believe he might’ve been overreacting. It just led you both into a fight as you tried to knock some sense into him. But he was stubborn in his ways. Logan still could do no wrong in his eyes. And the more you discredited Logan, the more upset he got. He was just back to doing his dirty business for his father. He was now off to England with Kendall to convince his mom to actually vote for her ex-husband who she despised. You were invited to come, but your fight with Roman made you decline the offer. He just shoved it off as if he didn’t care about it at all. He just thought it would maybe be nice for you to meet his other parent. But you reminded him of your actual status.

You had gotten more news on Waystar as a story broke about Logan ‘bullying’ and ‘hitting’ a young man, someone between the ages of 18 and 23. Apparently, it had caused the boy to drive his car into a lake. You didn’t doubt it. Roman tried to call you about it and called it bullshit.

“I don’t know Rome, seems on brand for him.” You shrugged, sipping on your coffee. It had been 2 pm for him while Kendall and Logan were out doing damage control.

“Fucking- whatever… yea cause people are so sensitive nowadays. Dad didn’t even hit him. Fucking moron is going to drive off a lake over an insult? Really?” Roman ranted, but you had pulled your phone away from your ear, unable to listen to Roman speak ill about a dead child.

“Roman- fucking stop…” You warned but he didn’t. You just hung up.

He looked at Shiv, shocked and obviously upset about your choice to hang up. “What the fuck?” He asked. Shiv shrugged, not surprised. But she just kept her opinion to herself. You shuddered at the thought of what Roman was saying. It truly disgusted you. You knew it was just because he was so ignorant. He was sheltered to think whatever was going on was okay. Shiv just pushed Roman out of the house and decided to finally go to their mom. It would be better if they went rather than bring Kendall. Kendall was Caroline’s least favorite. Shiv was a close second last. Roman was the only one accepting whatever love she could possibly give.

You had been packing for England for your late-night flight. You had to be there for some stupid award show for Logan to celebrate some stupid achievement.  It was just a way to inflate his ego. And for his peers to celebrate him. You thought it was obnoxious.

You were finally finished, getting your bags and putting your belongings into the back of a black car that waited for you. You were being driven before stopping to pick up other people. Including Jess. You watched her get into the car. Your eyes met, but she diverted her eyes away from you. You just wished she’d talk to you. You weren’t sure if your relationship with Roman was worth this. This was too hard.

“Hey…” you tried to talk to her, but she had ignored you for her phone. You bit your lip, looking away. Once you did, Jess’ eye looked up at you with pity. She wanted to talk to you too, but she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to talk about your emotions for Roman. Or why you lied? Or why didn’t listen to her? There were so many questions. But she wasn’t emotionally ready for it. She wasn’t ready to apologize for all the awful things she said either, bringing your family and past up as a way to hurt you.

But it happened.

It stuck with you more often than usual. The fact your parents were emotionally unavailable or physically abusive. How much they’d pick out the flaws you had. All the names. And the blaming for what was done to you.

You were reminded of it constantly since you had to spend more time with the Roys.

You had gotten on the flight, watching Jess as she had just walked past you without giving a second glance over to you.

You had enough. You sat across from her. “Jess… Fucking talk to me… Please… Just FUCKING KNOCK IT OFF!” You exploded. People looked at you, but you gave them a look to make them stop. They quickly looked away.

“What do you want me to say y/n?” She asked you. You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Well? I don’t know what to say to you y/n… And I don’t think this is the conversation to have with people around. I know this is your little secret.” She shrugged it off.

You let out a large breath, shaking your head no. “I’m fucking sorry. I didn’t- it’s just- I fucked up. And I regret my choices. If I knew they’d end this badly, I would’ve not gone through with it.” You let out a shaky breath.

“But you knew y/n. I told you. You just ignored it. You did what you did. And I said what I said.” She tried to avoid the conversation.

“I’ll break up with him… As soon as we land, it’ll be over.” You tried to rationalize. Jess thought that was what she wanted. But she wasn’t sure if it was. She didn’t like the fact you were both hooking up or doing whatever, but she knew it wasn’t truly her business. She shook her head, just grabbing her phone. “It’s just- it won't fix anything.” She wasn’t sure if it would ruin your happiness.

Realistically your happiness with Roman shifted depending on if Roman would express his awful opinions. Which he had a lot of.

“I just wanna fix this Jess…” You pouted.

“If you wanna fix this… just give it time… I’m just not there yet. Uh- maybe we could talk about it more another time.” She tried to compromise with you. She missed you too. But this wasn’t going to be productive. You nodded, getting up, and swung your hand on a bottle as it flew against the wall. “real fucking mature.” Jess called out. You walked away defeated and annoyed. You spent the rest of the flight away from Jess.

You had landed in the morning, getting your stuff quickly. The family had already been there, so you were immediately sent to go to where they were staying.

You texted Roman letting him know you had arrived safely. He had sent you multiple messages, trying to admit what he said was disgusting and unfair. He didn’t directly say it, but he admitted to it being not the best thing he could say.

You were driven to the event, ready to confront Roman. But once you had walked in his face lightened up once you walked in. He had grabbed you a glass of whatever was being served and came over to you. “Hey, here get drunk, Shiv is plotting something.” He whispered. You smiled, taking the glass from him. Despite Roman sometimes being awful, he could be very sweet. And he was now more willing to see his mistakes.

“Ooo. Can’t wait.” You smirked, sipping your drink. Rhea began her speech, going on and on about whatever bullshit Shiv fed her.

Rhea began her speech and had brought up ‘Rose’. Roman looked amused at Shiv’s game. While Rhea had lifted her glass up with a huge smile on her face as if Logan was going to be sooo happy to hear about Rose. You didn’t even know who Rose was. You leaned in and asked Roman “who’s Rose?” You asked.

“Dad’s dead sister.” He whispered. Logan had put his drink down and sulked in his seat. It set a mood for everyone to stay quiet.

Roman walked past Rhea “Wow. Well done. Look at you, fitting right in.” He teased before making a disgusting pedophilic joke. He seemed to be interrogating her. You didn’t know their issue with her all of a sudden, but you decided to stay out of it. You sat with Shiv, watching them whispering to each other.

“What a fucking snake…” Shiv whispered to you. You laughed, watching as Rhea tried to work her deal with Roman.  But Shiv and him were in a very healthy place where they decided to work against someone again. They always worked better when they plotted against another person together.

“What’d she do?” You asked.

“She’s trying to suck the CEO position out of Dad’s dick and balls.” She stared at Rhea, trying to intimidate her.

Rhea couldn’t find an in with Roman and joined the table. Roman sat with you and Shiv and Roman then began to interrogate with Tom being their hype man.

The tension felt incredibly thing. But Connor decided to ease the mood but decided to insult Rhea nonetheless.

“This is a fucking slaughter…” You whispered to Roman. “I wanna join.” You snickered at the idea.

“Uh- we should start. The event is going to start soon.” Rhea tried to get out of the next dig that was going to be thrown her way. You had been brought to Logan’s old home. You just watched the kids insult the looks as if it was cheap and disgusting. But it was something that looked huge to you. You would never understand their perception of money. Roman thought a coffee cost $40. A black coffee. It wasn’t cheap, sure $4-$8 depending on where you went. But nowhere near $40. You all just waited for Logan to arrive, but Logan could barely look at it. The photographers waited to take a photo, but Logan told the driver to speed off.

“Wow, how fucking fun. God, you know this reminds me exactly when I chased that twink singer in some dumb fucking band for him to just drive off in his car. Should we chase after him?” You joked. You all just seemed a bit annoyed about your time being completely wasted. But that was expected of Logan. You crawled in the car, Roman following you right after. “I didn’t even know Logan was Scottish. I thought he was just some rich fuck with generational money. You know like some hush hush tycoon stuff.” You admit.

“Yeah- Dad doesn’t talk about that kind of stuff- he rather talk about how much he hated Connor’s mom than talk about his own.” Roman laughed. Thankfully, Connor wasn’t around to hear the comment towards him. You had just stood outside. You didn’t want to watch Logan gloat about some stupid University he was buying out. You found the perfect excuse to stay behind.  You grabbed your pack of cigarettes out, lighting the end. You sucked on the end, waiting for the rest of them to come out. You saw an older man come by with a hat and trench coat and sat and watched. You just watched him. He looked disappointed. Annoyed. Angry. You saw Greg leave the building to greet him. “Oh hey- y/n.” Greg waved at you. You thought Greg might’ve had a little crush on you. He had asked you to ‘come to hang out’ with him so many times. He even tried to impress you multiple times with his big-boy job. It was amusing in all honesty. It was cute. But he just wasn’t your type. You liked pretentiousness and arrogance apparently. “Uh- Ewan… Give me a second.” He scrambled before walking to you. “I didn’t know you smoked. Uh- can I- can I get one?” He tried to find something in common with you. Your eyebrows raised, questioning him.

“Yeah- I don’t think the building allows me to smoke. I didn’t know you smoked either.” You said before pulling the pack out again. You pulled a cigarette out for him and your lighter. You were going to see if he actually knew what to do. It would tell you everything.

“Oh yeah- all the time. I actually can’t breathe half the time 'cause I love these things so much. Yea- I buy like a pack a day 'cause I finish them up so quickly” He tried to lie about his association with smoking. He held the cigarette in between his fingers and tried to light it like a joint. It told you everything.

“Greg, you’re supposed to light it in your mouth.” You informed him. He looked up, knowing he had just exposed himself. “Look- like this.” You showed him, putting the cigarette In his mouth and lighting it for him. “Now breathe it in.” You instructed. Greg misunderstood how much or how hard and began to cough viciously. He dropped the cigarette and curled up as he coughed loudly. You just sat and watched, giggling to yourself as you smoked your cigarette.

Ewan was amused as well. He just quietly laughed as he watched his idiot grandson embarrass himself. The group had left the building, Logan surprised to see the man to be there. Roman pat Greg on the back, looking at you confused about why he practically coughing up a lung. “All right, all right. Dramatic. Don’t cough on me. Yeah, that’s right just turn that way.” He said as he turned Greg around and lightly pushed him away. He didn’t like Greg. He thought Greg was a freeloader. Which he kind of was. Roman just viewed him as someone who was riding on the fact, he was somewhat related to them and was trying to find any way to make the kind of money they did. He leeched onto any family member who would let him. Which was Tom.

“Who the fuck is the crip keeper?” You asked Roman about Ewan. You had seen him talk to Logan. “His liberal snowflake brother.” Roman answered.

“Oh, good news. Uh- Eduard is here. I told him to fly in. He’s expecting you at a bar in an hour.” You broke the news. Roman was shocked at how stupid of a decision that was for Eduard. But he was happy enough to have it set up in the very lease.

“You’re the fucking best. God what a fucking moron. I could just take you right here in front of everyone.” Roman seemed to pump himself up. “Yeah-yeah. Go now.” You laughed, pushing him slightly. You both went your own separate ways for at least a couple of hours. You had a lot of stuff to do in the meantime. Which mostly consisted of you hanging out with Shiv as she seemed to be calling meeting after meeting to destroy Rhea. You had stayed out of it most of the time though.

Connor left the room completely upset before the rest left as well.

“What fucking pathetic brats…” Connor mumbled under his breathe. You looked up, wondering what had happened. Roman left soon. “Rome- what the fuck happened?” You asked him. “Why is Connor-?” you asked him.

“Eh, who actually gives a shit?” He shrugged.

Notes: Poor Connor.

Chapter 14

[fiberslut]

Always in Powers

Pairing: Lukas Matsson x roy!reader

This is just a headcanon about being the youngest Roy sibling

You’re just holding a meeting while some unknown number pops up on your phone. You excuse yourself and answer to that number to hear Marcia’s voice. ‘Your father needs you’ she says, ‘I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong number, I don’t have a father’ ‘He’s offering you to be the CEO’ ‘What happened to Ken and Rome?’ ‘Let’s discuss about it when you’re here, next month is your father’s birthday remember?’ ‘As I said, I don’t have a father’ ‘See you soon’ and then she hung up

You have no idea what does he want. He’s ignored you for 22 years of your life but now he wanted to see you? and offering you to be the CEO of Waystar?

At a very young age, you’ve lived in the same house as Connor, Kendall, Roman, and Shiv. But one day your father hit you for some unknown reason, your mom knew about it, fired a restraining order against Logan, divorced him, and moved you two back to your mom’s country.

From that day on, you would go by her last name.

Since your mom is a very famous actress/model in your country, that made you’re also in the limelight too.

You hate Logan. Hate how he treated you and your mom. Hated how he never fought to get you back. Hate how he never calls on your birthday. Hate how he never said ‘Happy birthday kid’ to you. Hate how you would have no one to celebrate Father’s Day with.

That’s why you always work so hard, and be able to graduate double degree from Harvard Business School and Harvard Law School at the age of 22. And since you’re famous (thanks to your mom) you have a lot of celebrity friends, which helps with your clothing company to be successful and to be accepted worldwide.

Now you’re in Italy for Caroline’s wedding. But Logan wants you to go with him and Roman to talk about business with this Matsson guy.

He is a very interesting guy. Not like what you have in mind about tech bro.

Lukas couldn’t stop looking at you while talking with Logan. Rome sees it too and he’s not happy about it.

While you’re on the boat back to the wedding venue, some odd numbers appear on your phone, you answer it and it’s Lukas. ‘How did you get my number Mr. Matsson?’ Rome hears that and signal you to hang up the phone, while Logan is smiling in a victorious way.

‘He’s not going to give you CEO’ Kendall says, ‘From what Roman told me, he’s obviously using you to woo Matsson’ ‘No he’s not, he promised me’ you argue back, ‘He promised me too’ Shiv adds

From that day on you’ve talked and texted with Lukas every day. You find him so laid back and funny not like any guys you’ve dated.

You are Roman’s favorite, he’s the only one who visits you every year, so since you’re back in New York, you usually hang out at Roman’s place.

‘What are you smiling at?’ Roman asks ‘Don’t tell me it’s that Swede again, aren’t you dating that Denmark prince?’ ‘He’s a Count and no we’re not dating’ ‘It’s creepy, Matsson is too old for you’ ‘Um, I don’t think you should be the one to lecture me about what is creepy or what is not huh Mr. send-your-dick-pic-to-dad’

When you’re free of meeting, you will fly to Sweden. You and Lukas have developed a serious relationship. ‘What if I buy your dad’s company?’ He asks. ‘There is a cheaper way to impress me Lukas’ ‘No I’m serious’ ‘Then you should buy ATN too’ ‘Wouldn’t that destroy him?’ ‘That’s my point’

You were at Connor's side when you heard the news. That Logan is dead while he's on the plane to meet Lukas. You felt empty, just blank, not any hint of sadness. You saw Kendall, Roman, and Shiv were crying and saying I love you Dad at the phone. They're devastated at the news and couldn't do the interview, so it was you to do it.

Your sibling didn't have time to mourn Logan's death that much since Lukas invited them and the company to Norway.

You were excited, you and Lukas agreed to make your relationship official at the retreat.

Everyone was so shocked except Roman, he saw it coming since the first day. Kendall totally couldn't accept it, he refused to talk to you all day. Shiv just looked at you in disbelief but didn't say anything.

You love this retreat, you always ask Greg to be your photographer for your Instagram. Lukas hates how you are always with Greg when you should be next to him.

So he asks Greg who he is and insulted him in Swedish in front of his friends. You get mad at him for talking about your family like that. You and Lukas have a fight and you ended up leaving the retreat that afternoon and flying back to New York to help Connor with the funeral.

You haven't heard from him until the funeral day. You saw him with Shiv and that totally sums up everything for you. You ignore him all morning just to end up being pulled away into the dark corner of the church, him kissing you passionately and saying he's sorry and how much he's missed you.

So that week he stayed with you at your penthouse and he proposed to you.

He has you by his side while taking a group photo as GoJo successfully bought Waystar and ATN. You showing your new engagement ring as your new chapter of life is about to start as a wife and an American CEO of Waystar.

[capriciouswrites]

HELLO

I have completed my JULIBULATION fic event, in which I posted one fic every day for the month of July.

I am free.

This is the round up post. Please find, below, a numbered list of the fic including: the word that was associated with the fic, fic title and link, fandom, main pairing/character, and rounded word count.

Take a look. Some of them are very good, some of them are just very self indulgent, and some of them are just done but quite frankly I posted over 50k for the month so sometimes done is the best you can get. (I do like everything I posted, but some veers more crack for sure.) Alright, enjoy.

Curtains: wake up (& neutralize), Marvel, Clint/Natasha, 1.9k

Circle: everythin' is never as it seems, Teen Wolf, Stiles/Derek, 1.7k

Teeth: trouble (trouble), 9-1-1, Tommy/Buck/Eddie, 2.8k

Mirror: common sense (when you pretend you don't), Game of Thrones, Sansa/Oberyn, 1.3k

Stick: whatcha gonna do when there's blood in the water?, 9-1-1, Buck/Eddie, 1.8k

Candle:wake up for the sunrise, Game of Thrones, Sansa/Daemon Sand, 1.5k

Voice: so long ago (i lost my only friend), DCU, Jason/Slade, 1k

Rose: bright as magic, 9-1-1, Buck/Eddie, 3.1k

Cough Drop: boom (boom), DCU & Marvel, Roy&Jason, 1k

Phone: ring (ring), DCU & Marvel, Roy/Steve, 1k

Tail: splish splash, DCU, Roy/Jason, 1.1k

Ankle: smile like a razor blade, DCU & Marvel, Frank/Karen/Jason, 2.3k

Beer: you and me and the end of the beer, DCU & Marvel, Logan/Jason, 1.2k

Paper: oh yeah absolutely not, Naruto, Sakura/Shikamaru/Temari, 1.1k

Dog: who let the dogs out (who who), DCU & Marvel, Frank/Jason/Roy, 1.1k

Shirt: hey baby won't you look my way, DCU & Marvel, Clint/Jason/Roy, 1.8k

Dirt: relatively radish, DCU & Marvel, Frank&Natasha&Jason, 1.2k

Glitter: this isn't what it looks like (depending on what it looks like), DCU, Jason/Slade, 1.7k

Couch: knock (knock), DCU & Marvel, Roy/Steve, 1.1k

Glass: like a diamond (like a song), 9-1-1, Buck/Eddie, 5.2k

Cat: take meow-t tonight, DCU, Jason, 1k

Omelet: not his first rodeo, 9-1-1, Buck/Tommy, 1k

Gift: BE TRUE?, DCU, Jason/Slade, 1.3k

Force: a few drops go a long way, Naruto & Star Wars, Padmé&Sakura, 1.1k

Dragon: there's a leak in this old building, Game of Thrones, Jon&Arya&Sansa, 1.9k

Tire: slashed tires and truths, Stranger Things, Steve/Eddie, 2k

Guide: close your eyes (have no fear), 9-1-1, Buck/Eddie, 4.8k

Jewel: (no one calls you honey) when you're sitting on a throne, Marvel & Black Jewels, Natasha/Bucky, 1.1k

Gate: Who put the bop in the bop shoo bop shoo bop, 9-1-1 & Stargate Atlantis, Buck/Tommy/Eddie, 2.6k

Wing: wings over words, Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth/Darcy, 1.4k

Needle: and i think to myself (what a wonderful world), DCU & Marvel, Natasha/Roy/Jason, 1.3k

Note, some fics may be part of a series, some will (hopefully) have additional content added at some point.

[jeniffercheck]

light blue (nothing's gonna stop me now)

shivlina fic exchange: exposed affair with a side of shiv becoming twitter's rich white lady of the month, s2 canon (until it's not), set during 'safe room' - 2x04, shivlina are established affair partners.

words: 7.7k

read here or on ao3

for @shivvroys<3

“Do you have a Goodreads?”

Shiv pauses in the bed. Karolina’s been scrolling through her phone, laughing every so often at a cat video that she desperately needs to show Shiv right now, asking her if she’s heard about some absurd foreign news that Karolina gathers from the pits of Reddit.

(Because Shiv desperately needed to know that a rolled truck in Canada covered an entire highway in celery.)

It’s the worst part of the night, when the hours turn into minutes and the minutes to seconds, and every passing moment becomes one less that they get to breathe the same air. One less that they get to sit next to one another and exist in their small bubble, away from all the bullshit that makes up their lives.

“What?” Shiv asks, flopping her head to face Karolina.

“A Goodreads account,” Karolina says. “Do you have one?”

“Yeah,” Shiv says. She shifts closer to Karolina, trying to get a better look at her phone. “Why?”

Karolina shifts the device into Shiv’s view. “I think you’ve been discovered.”

“What?” Shiv rips the phone out of Karolina’s hand, eyes quickly scanning the screen. It’s her account, and the numbers do look suspiciously higher than usual. She grabs her own phone and opens the app, and lo and behold, hundreds of notifications have rolled in throughout the day. Likes and comments on her reviews, followers on her account. She’s not not used to it, her Twitter and Instagram receiving a healthy amount of engagement compared to the average user, but those are staged. This is…fucking embarrassing.

“How the hell did they find this?” she grumbles, clicking through some of the followers.

“I don’t know,” Karolina says. “Maybe the one-star and very detailed review of that unauthorized biography on your father was a good hint?”

“My review?” Shiv asks, scrolling through her page.

“I mean,” Karolina continues, “I don’t think the words, ‘My dad,’ were very helpful in keeping yourself anonymous.”

It appears on Shiv’s screen, a review logged last week. Sloppy, choppy, and boring as hell—she deletes it before she has time to read the rest.

“Oh my god,” she says, covering her face with her hands. “I was drunk when I wrote that.”

“Well, you’re a tough critic when you’re plastered,” Karolina says. Shiv’s mouth curls upward in disbelief as she unveils herself to Karolina, who seems to be fighting a smirk of her own. Shiv can’t contain her laughter as she drops back onto the bed, and Karolina follows, perched on her elbow next to Shiv’s head.

“What are the optics on this?” Shiv asks. The last thing she needs is to start an internet war with some E-List author. Karolina pulls her phone back in front of her, the screen flashing as she swipes through different apps, her nails making that grating tapping sound that pisses Shiv off when she’s trying to go to sleep.

“Uh—” Karolina pauses, zooming in on something. “Well, looks to me like you’ve just become the internet’s newest white girl of the month.”

“The what?”

“I mean, just look—” Karolina holds out her phone again, urging Shiv to read whatever’s on the screen, Twitter coming into view as Shiv does so. She scrolls through a variety of tweets, phrases like feral and deranged and mommy punching through. “They’re going crazy over you.”

  @evermores: Does anyone else think Shiv Roy and Nate Sofrelli had something going on?

          �� @dazzlinghaze: why do you know random ass Gil staffers

                      ↳ @evermores: Spoken like a fake fan.

↳ @notromanroy1: they were definitely boning

 

@milfhotline: I mean I know she probably steals money but she’s hot, so.

          ↳ @moonhaven: ???

                   ↳ @Ryan2334657: Her dad is Logan Roy. Definitely a family of thieves.

                            ↳ @moonhaven: sorry are you their bank? maybe she hates him. we don’t know

                                     ↳ @milfhotline: oomf out here defending a capitalist?

 

@candlenights: I don’t care what y’all say. Shiv Roy is my new Caroline Calloway. If she wants to steal, let her. Who am I to deny a woman her wrongs?

“Why the fuck do they all think I’ve stolen money?”

“You’re a Roy. It obviously means you commit wire fraud for breakfast,” Karolina says, scrolling through more tweets. “You should reply to one of them. Fan the flames.”

“Why would I do that?”

Fanning the flames sounds like the opposite of what her years of PR experience have told her.

“It would look good, engaging with the culture,” Karolina argues. “You know ATN’s viewership is sixty-eight percent senior citizens? Imagine if you brought in the youth. Your father would salivate.”

Shiv sits up, looking at Karolina doubtfully. “You, Karolina Novotney, want to brainwash the youth with ATN?”

Karolina shrugs, that hint of a smirk still visible on her face. Shiv scoffs playfully.

“Fuck you. You just want to see what would happen.”

“Fine,” Karolina concedes. “Sue me.”

“Yeah,” Shiv says, leaning over to press a kiss on Karolina’s forehead before getting out of the bed. “You couldn’t afford that.”

Karolina gasps, throwing a pillow at Shiv. “Whatever,” she says. “I just think it would be a good temperature check. Organic.”

“Well, I’m not engaging,” Shiv says. “I’m disengaging, if anything. I’m deleting my Goodreads and leaving the rest to their imaginations.”

“Their imaginations certainly are impressive,” Karolina says, grimacing at her phone.

“What is it?” Shiv asks.

“I thought you were disengaging?”

Shiv rolls her eyes. “I am.”

“You’re no fun,” Karolina says, pouting as she stands, but Shiv walks back over to her, lightly pushing Karolina back on the bed.

“You hang around me because I’m fun?” she asks, hovering over Karolina. She stops just as she reaches Karolina’s lips, and Karolina’s breath hitches. It’s then that Karolina’s laptop chimes from the other end of the room, and both of them sigh, an unwelcome reminder that their time for the night is officially coming to a close.

“You’re so much fun,” Karolina says before she leans up, stealing a chaste kiss from Shiv’s lips. “What time is Tom expecting you?”

Shiv sighs, rising once again.

“Thirty minutes ago,” she says. She walks into Karolina’s bathroom, pursuing her things that are already there. It all feels so simple, having a toothbrush in Karolina’s holder, having pajamas in her drawers. It’s a second life, sure, a home away from home, but it doesn’t feel any less real than the other parts, the parts where wakes up in the middle of the night and wonders why Karolina’s hands feel so big, why her sink looks so different. She washes her face, pushing the thought away for another time.

“Shiv,” Karolina says, her accusatory tone following Shiv into the bathroom.

“What?” Shiv asks, drying her face. “He’s fine. Mondale’s there.”

Karolina’s silent as she leans against the door frame, watching Shiv freshen up. It’s one of the more humiliating parts of the routine, running home to her husband who thinks she’s well on her way to becoming the next Head of PR for Waystar, guiding his eager mouth through the dark to her already-bruising breastbone, lest he think the marks came from anyone other than himself. Karolina looks at her sadly. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s annoying when it does, the sour mood or separation catching them both by its vicious claws.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Karolina asks. She asks at least once a week. Shiv would find it endearing if it didn’t make her feel entirely suffocated by just the thought of her actions.

“I told you, we have an arrangement,” Shiv says.

“And you’re not lying to me?”

Shiv sighs. She’s not lying, not really. She and Tom do have an arrangement. She stays out of Tom’s business—not that he even makes an effort to participate—and he stays out of hers. It’s simple, and she wants it to stay that way, but still, a part of her knows things with Karolina have gone outside the parameters of the arrangement. So, she’s not lying, but she isn’t quite sure where the truth fits just yet.

“I’m not lying,” Shiv says. “And Tom doesn’t own me. If I’m late, I’m late.”

“Alright,” Karolina says, voice still weary.

“What, you want to get rid of me so soon?” Shiv teases.

“I wouldn’t let you hog my sheets all the time if I wanted to get rid of you,” Karolina says.

“I do not.”

“Prove it,” Karolina challenges, and Shiv laughs.

“Should I set up the cameras before, or after we fuck?” Shive asks, facing the mirror. Karolina laughs, but it’s small and she replies by hugging Shiv from behind and resting her chin on Shiv’s shoulder. They lock eyes through the mirror.

“Stay over tonight,” Karolina says.

It’s an easy ask, as easy as anything else Karolina ever asks Shiv to do for her, and a rare one at that, and it tugs at Shiv the way it always does when she has to deny Karolina of something that she wants. Karolina, a never-ending stream of goodwill and wonder, Shiv, a constant disappointment.

“What do you get out of this?” Shiv suddenly asks, and Karolina doesn’t hesitate with her response.

“I get you.”

“But—” Shiv stammers, unsatisfied by the answer. “Like, what do you get out of it?”

Surely Shiv is not the prize. She’s a consolation, a means to an end. Karolina should be lucky to have her, sure, but when luck runs out, what’s left? Shiv is convenient.

“You make me feel normal for a little while,” Karolina says. “Like I’ve finally done something right. You do.”

It feels like a cosmic joke, Karolina saying that Shiv makes her feel right when Karolina makes Shiv feel as though she’s done everything wrong, her mere presence causing Shiv to rethink every action she’s ever taken to lead up to their interactions. Not that it’s Karolina’s fault. It’s a mess that Shiv’s made, one she knows she has to clean up soon, before it all comes crashing down on her.

“Not what you wanted to hear?” Karolina asks, looking nervous in Shiv’s silence. Shiv reaches up to grab Karolina’s hand, squeezing it as she smiles softly.

“Just—not what I expected,” she says.

“What did you expect?” Karolina asks.

“I dunno,” Shiv says. “Maybe that my financial crimes get you off.”

Karolina’s lips curve gently, and a soft laugh escapes her. Shiv knows she’s laughing because Shiv wants her to. Because Shiv has to leave in fifteen minutes and if they get into it now, if they let their emotions get any further, they might go places they can never come back from. Shiv turns around, connecting their foreheads. By the time she leaves, Karolina is back to some late-night work, and Shiv, back to Tom.

 

—

The first thought Shiv has when the gunshot goes off, is that it doesn’t really sound like anything at all. One second she’s playing Connect the Dots while being babysat by the Old Guard, and the next she’s being rushed off through the executive floor to a safe room that she isn’t really sure is all that safe, given the fact that they’re on the top floor of a high rise in the Financial District, distinctly known for having zero issues involving life-endangering events and fucking high rises.

She stumbles her way through an increasingly irritating phone call with Tom, something about the wrong safe room and she realizes that she doesn’t have a clue where Karolina is, right safe room or wrong safe room, and she still doesn’t know if there’s a shooter in the building, and she still doesn’t know where she stands with Dad, and she doesn’t know shit about anything, because everybody wants to keep her around but nobody wants to keep her in the loop.

“Where’s Kendall?” her dad is immediately asking, winded and wilting, and only ever concerned about her older brother.

“I don’t know,” Shiv says. It doesn’t seem like the correct time to remind him that she’s not Kendall’s keeper, and she’s also got bigger concerns on her mind. “Were you with Karolina? Have you seen her?”

“Karolina?” he repeats, and at first, it’s a quickening of Shiv’s heart rate, wondering if she’s somehow said too much, gone too far, but then it’s a dismissive wave of her father’s hand, a welcome sign that she hasn’t completely screwed anything up just yet. “Get on the phone with her—figure this fucking mess out.”

She does, retreat to a corner and call Karolina several times, her pulse beating harder with every passing ring. It’s not until the third try that Karolina actually picks up, just as Kendall and Gerri enter the room, and she still has enough time to roll her eyes as her dad greets Kendall, his golden boy returned safely to the throne room.

“Shiv?” Karolina’s voice comes through the receiver.

“Karolina,” Shiv sighs, relieved. “Where are you?”

“I was on a lower floor dealing with a small fire—we were evacuated right away,” Karolina says. “I’m with the news crew now, they’re prepping to go live from outside. Where are you?”

Shiv looks around. Kendall doing God knows what in the bathroom, Rhea and Dad looking awkward as all fuck on the couch, Colin hovering creepily. Gerri, it seems, is heading right for Shiv.

“In the Kensington Palace of panic rooms,” Shiv says, losing her words with every step Gerri moves closer. “I just wanted—we, wanted to check in on the response. And I—you’re safe? With the protestors outside?”

“I’m pretty sure ANTIFA is the least of our safety concerns,” Karolina mumbles, her voice getting quieter as Shiv cups the phone, Gerri stopped in front of her, gesturing to the phone.

“Can I speak with her?” Gerri asks.

Shiv has half a mind to say no. Wants to take herself and her phone and Karolina’s voice and lock it all away from others. Wants to touch her hand and make sure it’s real, that Karolina’s right where she says she is, outside of Waystar HQ, prepping some corporate shill with eyelashes far too long for national news to tell the whole world that everything’s fine, that there’s a shooter inside of their workplace but they’re all fine because this is America and guns are our friends.

Instead, she holds her phone out to Gerri. She’s at least grateful to be rid of the vibrations from Tom’s texts coming through every twenty seconds.

“How’s it looking out there?” Gerri asks into the phone. She eyes Shiv and then turns her back, mumbling a yes, and a no, and a no, we’re not legally liable, and a yes, they can say that on-air, and when Gerri turns back around, she looks as though she’s about to hang up, and if things were different—if Shiv weren’t trapped in a room with five people who definitely can’t know that Karolina is anything more to Shiv than a corporate sounding board—she’d get Gerri to stop. She’d rip the phone out of Gerri’s hands and take Karolina back.

Except, Gerri pauses. Her eyes flash suspiciously at Shiv, and she bids Karolina goodbye before handing the phone back, Shiv, using everything in her power not to look as desperate as she feels.

“Shiv?” Karolina says. “You there?”

“I’m with you,” Shiv says, trying her best to sound inconspicuous. Dad, Kendall, and Rhea are still deep in talks, but Gerri’s ears are her, even if she’s pretending they aren’t.

“I stepped away for a moment,” Karolina says. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, we’re all good here,” Shiv says. “I’m glad we got in touch quickly. It’s best if we get a statement out soon.”

“I was worried,” Karolina says, and Shiv bites the inside of her lip. “When they said there’d been shots fired, you know, I-I didn’t know—”

“Uh-huh,” Shiv cuts her off. “You’re right, we should wait a little. Don’t want to sound too haste.”

There’s a bit of silence on the other end, and Shiv feels bad. Feels awful, actually, because she’s worried too but she can’t show that. Not right here, not in front of everyone. She can’t cry or panic, can’t tell Karolina that if something had happened to her it would’ve been the end of Shiv, that the entire time she was speaking to her husband the only thing that was on Shiv’s mind was Karolina. She can’t tell Karolina any of this, ever.

“Can I see you tonight?” Karolina then asks.

It’s small and slightly hesitant, and feels far too fragile for the circumstances, feels too fragile to be aimed at Shiv. She can’t help it. Shiv might explode if she has to deny Karolina anything ever again.

“Yes, of course,” she says. “I’ll send you the details when we’re out of here.”

“Okay, Shiv. Be safe,” Karolina says, and it feels like the words are hanging, like there are so many more they should be saying that are inhibited by time and space and circumstance, and Shiv can’t help when the spell is broken, when she forgets that she isn’t the only person in the room and her lips curl to say something irrevocable, until at the last second she looks at Gerri, perceptive eyes still plainly on her and she does remember. The destructive words swallowed, and replaced with a cordial, “You too.”

She avoids Gerri’s gaze as she hangs up, opting to read through the abundance of texts from Tom that she’s received within the last twenty minutes. He’s going to be stuck at ATN all night, and the paperwork is, “Horrendous,” considering the shooter was revealed to be one of his employees. She schedules a car for Karolina and a separate car for herself, both to be taken to her apartment. It doesn’t feel entirely right, but it doesn’t feel wrong either, wanting to just sit on her own couch in her own place and bask in the silence with Karolina.

“What did Karolina want from you?” Gerri asks suddenly, voice quiet so as not to interrupt the Boys Club still trying to land a deal.

“Uh—just wanted my opinion on some words,” Shiv says. “That’s all.”

“Right,” Gerri says. “Because it doesn’t make sense to speak with the people who are actually on her payroll.”

“Look, Gerri, if you have a problem, then take it up with Karolina,” Shiv says. “I’m sure she’d love to explain.”

She locks eyes with Gerri this time, smiling her Shiv Roy best, and Gerri just sighs. “She’s not a toy, Shiv.”

Shiv can’t help it as she laughs under her breath.

“Are you my godmother, or hers?”

Colin whispers in Dad’s ear. He stands, Rhea joining him. They’re all shaking hands, smiling as Colin opens the door.

“If I were Karolina’s, I’d be telling her to run rather than telling you not to fuck things up.”

—

Relief.

It’s the only thing Shiv feels when there’s finally a knock on her door and she opens it to find Karolina on the other side, a little more disheveled than Shiv is used to, but her Karolina, nonetheless. Shiv normally wouldn't have her over like this, not when it’s so late and Tom could be in even when she knows he won’t be, but she finds that she’s running out of reasons to care.

The second Karolina is inside and situated, she’s pulling Shiv into a hug. It’s not her first hug of the day, but it’s the first one where she feels like she’s being held. Like her hands aren’t the only two things doing the lifting, like her body isn’t a vessel for someone else to consume and spit out and mold—like she’s being hugged because someone cares. Like someone is wrapping her in their arms, not because it’s where they want her, but because it’s where she fits. With Karolina, everything fits.

“Eventful day,” Karolina says, brushing a thumb across Shiv’s cheek.

“Not really a good reflection of Waystar,” Shiv says, frowning. “An employee blowing their brains out in the bullpen.”

“We’re lucky that’s all it was,” Karolina says, and her hands tighten around Shiv, voice thick with the emotional toll of the day. “Three Roys in the building an active shooter, I mean—it could’ve been anything, Shiv.”

“Hey,” Shiv instantly says, attempting to calm the concern in Karolina’s words. “It wasn’t that. I’m fine, and you’re fine—we’re all good. Right?”

Karolina looks at her, furrowed brows and scrunched lips holding back like they always do, and she just nods. It comes over Shiv again, that wave of protectiveness that she pretends hasn’t recently become exclusive only to Karolina, and she takes control of the embrace, bringing the side of Karolina’s temple to her lips and holding her tightly in return. She wants to say something, wants to make more promises that she can’t keep, and ask more questions that she doesn’t want the answers to, but her phone buzzes in her pocket.

“It’s Tom,” Shiv says, pulling away from Karolina, and then into the receiver, “Hello?”

“Hey, honey,” Tom’s voice comes through. “Are you home yet?”

“Yeah,” Shiv says. “Yeah, I got in about an hour ago.”

“Okay, good,” Tom says. “Will you make sure to feed Mondale? I’m afraid I’m going to be in the studio for a while.”

“Yeah,” Shiv says. “Can do.”

She’s being short. It’s not fair, but so many things aren’t fair. Which safe room are you in, Shiv? Are you sure there’s only one? I think they brought me to the wrong one, Shiv. I thought that it was something we wanted for me. What happened to the plan, Shiv?

“Alright, well. Everything—everything’s good?”

“Yeah, Tom,” Shiv sighs. “Your safe room kept you safe, I guess?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tom says. “Very spacious. It was nice to have some quiet time, you know? Hard to come by these days.”

“Right, no—yeah,” Shiv says. “Ours was—it was quiet too.”

“Good, good.”

There’s a lull of silence between them that Shiv often worries is a permanent fixture, but she knows Karolina looming behind her isn’t the best fuel for a conversation with her husband.

“Well,” Tom says, filling the silence, “I’ll see you later?”

“Sure, honey,” Shiv says. “Just let me know when you’re on your way, yeah?”

“Alright,” Tom says. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Tom.”

She keeps her back turned, scrolling through the calls on her phone. Tom, incoming. Karolina (3), outgoing. Tom, incoming. Roman, missed. Tom (2), missed. Karolina, incoming. Karolina, outgoing. She locks her phone, sliding it into her pocket without another glance. She finds Karolina’s set herself up at the kitchen counter, laptop out in front of her, fingers typing away. She looks up as Shiv returns, and Shiv wonders where her determined energy comes from, how Karolina can always keep going, despite it all.

“ATN putting out the fire for us?” Karolina asks.

“Yeah,” Shiv laughs sarcastically. “They’re gonna own the libs and turn a suicide into a men’s rights issue.”

“As long as the ATN audience believes it, I couldn’t care less,” Karolina says. “Waystar will provide its condolences and ATN can do…whatever the hell it does.”

Shiv knows Karolina doesn’t mean that. That she’ll be watching the news broadcast and she’ll send a scathing email to ATN’s PR department when their story doesn’t align with the professional public image that Waystar needs to maintain, and she’ll work long and extra hours just to make it right, even though there are plenty of people on her payroll that can do it just as well with her guidance.

Shiv wonders if Karolina thinks the same way about her. That whenever she asks if they can spend the night together or if they can see each other, if there’s not always a part of her that couldn’t care less. A part of her that can’t afford to care more.

“Well, with a Nazi on the news desk, I’m sure they’ll do just fine,” Shiv says. Karolina sighs and leans her elbow on the counter, head in her hand. She continues to type with one hand, a skill Shiv would find laughable on any other day, and Shiv pulls another seat closer to Karolina, resting her own body across the countertop as she watches Karolina work. Suddenly, Karolina’s typing furiously, sitting up straighter and switching through tabs at a rapid pace. Her phone dings a few times, and an unsettling feeling comes over Shiv.

“Fuck.”

Karolina’s expression has grown from slightly annoyed to exceedingly worried within seconds, and Shiv sits up instantly.

“What is it?” she asks. “Ken get high and shoplift with the Naked Cowboy?”

Except, Karolina doesn’t laugh, which worries Shiv, because Karolina always laughs at her jokes, no matter how stupid or ill-timed or horrible they are.

“Um, no, Shiv,” Karolina says. “It—it’s about you.”

Shiv goes through her mental calendar, trying to remember the events of the last week. She can’t remember stealing candy or vape fluid or murdering a fucking homeless person though, so whatever it is, surely can’t be as bad as Karolina’s frantic typing is having her believe. Karolina continues to type, and then pauses, turning her laptop screen to face Shiv, a gaudy email taking up the screen.

Email: breakingnews@six.com

Subject: Heavy is the Head

Message: Married heiress to a popular American news conglomerate spotted cozying up to a mystery woman at a gala.

Shiv tries to make sense of the words. “What am I looking at?”

“It’s a blind,” Karolina says, and Shiv attempts to calm her panic. A blind is a blind. They’re bullshit, even when true.

“It’s just the same thing as last night,” Shiv says. “Nobody’s going to believe it.”

“Scroll.”

Shiv does, hesitantly, and her heart sinks as she makes it to the next part. There’s a photo. A fucking photo of her kissing Karolina t that stupid charity gala that she didn’t even want to be at, taken by some sleazeball with an iPhone 14 and a dream. But still, it’s not the end of the world, right?

“Nobody can see your face,” Shiv says. “I mean, fine, fuck, I’m kissing a woman—that doesn’t mean anything—”

Karolina slides her second phone over to Shiv, a screen that’s usually reserved for the most desperate of occasions, and on it is a thread with a different photo, Karolina’s face and dress circled out of a crowd.

“Fuck,” Shiv repeats, because what exactly is the proper word to being outed to millions of people at once, and also, by the way, the person you’re kissing is one of your dad’s most trusted advisors, and, oh, you’re also fucking married! She looks to Karolina, who seems to be flitting between passing out and figuring out where she can purchase a military-grade machine gun to mow down the Reddit headquarters.

“Is someone on this?” Shiv asks, and she’ll admit it, she’s panicking, because normally it’s Karolina who’s on these stories and squashing them before they’ve seen an ounce of daylight, but Karolina is here, and the story’s already broken, and her eyes are a little frantic and her hands a little shaky and Shiv’s slowly losing faith that they’re making it out of this one unscathed. Shiv grabs one of Karolina’s hands, and the contact springs her into action.

“I—I don’t know, Shiv,” Karolina says, puffing her cheeks. She pulls her hand away, standing. “I need to make some calls.”

“You can use my office,” Shiv says, and Karolina nods, walking away without so much as another word. It’s a lot, a shooting and an exposé all in one day, and Shiv doesn’t even want to begin to think of the fallout. The thought of checking her phone makes her feel sick, and if the universe is at all on her side (which, it’s decidedly not, considering this is happening at all) then Dad is already asleep and he’ll never have to find out about this mess. There’s no way Roman hasn’t already found out, and she makes a mental note to come up with a list of things to blackmail him with if he enjoys his life as it is currently. And then, as if on cue, Tom is walking into the apartment, either blissfully unaware, or entirely all too excited.

“Shiv?” his voice calls out, and she steels herself, not at all ready for the first wave of consequence.

“In here,” she calls from the kitchen. It’s a little while before Tom actually enters, his slow, tentative steps confirming her suspicions.

“Hey, honey,” Tom says as he approaches. He doesn’t greet her like he normally does, his inviting arms usually engulfing her, and she’s troubled by the fact that it doesn’t bother her. The distance almost feels welcome.

“Hey,” she says. The tension is thick.

“Crazy day, huh?” he asks. He looks at her expectantly, and she imagines what he’s thinking. Maybe he wants her to fall to her knees, to beg for forgiveness. Maybe he wants her to serve him with divorce papers, to annul the marriage having violated the terms of the prenup. Maybe he wants to pretend it never happened, to forbid Shiv from seeing Karolina ever again even though they both know that Shiv would never listen to that order. She can’t tell, because she never knows what Tom wants. He pretends to want what she wants, or he says he wants less when he always wants more, or he wants things that simply don't exist, things that can’t ever exist, and she just has to stumble her way through his needs, catering to him without completely destroying her own desires.

She feels that urge again, to hide Karolina somewhere far away, somewhere where Shiv wanting can’t be used against them. Where she doesn’t have to suppress her desires just to make everyone else around her feel whole.

“Yeah,” she says stiffly. “Wild.”

Tom nods, still playing his cards close to his chest. He eyes the mess of screens on the counter, not lingering for too long on any device. It’s likely he spent his entire car ride home memorizing every detail of the news.

“So—what’s the plan?” he asks, like he’s somehow a part of it. Like it’s a business move that they’re making together and now they have to figure it out. Like it’s not Shiv’s livelihood at stake.

“The plan?” she asks. She knows it’s not the time to be dense, but he’s already pissing her off and they haven’t even begun. She doesn’t need a Tom-solution to her own mess.

“Shiv,” he says, her name coming out like a warning.

“I don’t know, Tom,” she says. “I have to—you know, I need to talk—”

It’s not the admitting that’s hard. She’s admitted plenty before. Admitted worse. It’s saying her name. It’s giving Tom that piece of her, that version of Karolina that up until now, had only belonged to Shiv. If she says her name, then it’s real. They belong to everybody. It leaves her control.

“Her,” Shiv finally says. Tom’s current state of mind is elusive. She never prided him much in the way of not wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he’s doing a good job currently, and it’s unnerving, not being able to suss out what he’s thinking.

“When will—I mean, is that—are you in contact with her?” he asks. “Because we should really all be on the same page.”

We. Us. All.

“She’s in the study,” Shiv says, and Tom’s eyebrows shoot upward.

“She’s here? Now?”

“Well, yeah, Tom. Did you want me to drop her off in front of Waystar?” she asks. “See how many different ways the paparazzi can ask her what it feels like to fuck your wife?”

“Okay, Shiv—I understand you’re upset—”

“Oh, fuck off,” Shiv says, turning away from him. “Can you just—stop, being so nice right now?”

“Well—I mean, this was a part of it, right?” he asks, that sickeningly dumbfounded expression slapped across his face. “The arrangement?”

Shiv hopes her face isn’t conveying the paralyzing lapse of nausea that she feels course through her. She can feel the boyish hurt seep through his words, pretending like the arrangement is still something he’s okay with. If she were being completely honest, it doesn’t feel like a part of the arrangement. If it were a part of the arrangement, it wouldn’t have been Karolina in that photo. It would’ve been some hot, young guy, just barely taller than Tom; enough to make her feel like he should be jealous, enough to make him jealous. Karolina is different. He wasn’t supposed to find out about her. She was supposed to be Shiv’s secret, her life away from Tom that he couldn’t touch, couldn’t steal. She won’t let him steal her now, either.

“Right,” she says. Silly. How could she have forgotten? “The arrangement, yeah no—sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Tom pouts and steps forward, Shiv’s lie like some kind of spell cast on him. It feels more morose than usual, his desperation for her bare minimum commitment to him. He pulls her into him, as if the arrangement means it’s not real. She isn’t sure either of them believes that, but she knows he wants to, and Shiv, as always, is beholden to his wants.

“It was frightening being in danger,” Tom says. “And this, on top of it all. We’ll get Rat-Fucker Sam on it. Ruin some Silicon Valley tech mogul’s life.”

“I think it’s too late for Sam, Tom. It went viral instantly,” she says. “I just need to figure this out.”

“Well, has she gotten the call yet?”

Shiv looks up. The call?

“What call?”

“You know,” Tom shrugs, and Shiv wildly shakes her head, because, no, she doesn’t know. She’s not some clairvoyant psychic put on Earth just to be able to read Tom Wambsgans’ mind when he decides the middle of a conversation is a good time to play fucking charades.

“What call, Tom?” she says again, stepping away. He looks around to make sure it’s just the two of them, which, Shiv’s pretty sure they are, considering she can still hear Karolina’s commanding voice leave the confines of the study every few minutes, and he leans in, lowering his voice.

“The fucking axe, Shiv!”

He says it like it’s break room gossip. Like Karolina isn’t one of the few people at Waystar who’s actually decent at their job, like she’s dispensable and that’s why Shiv chose her. Not a real person. She wonders if that boyish hurt isn’t just a glint of zeal, like maybe he’s finally found his opportunity for payback. Shiv gets to cheat, and Tom gets to watch the destruction. She wonders if this might not have been his play all along, let her run herself through brick walls over and over again, and watch silently until one of them finally takes her down, bruised and bloody and begging for mercy. Something tugs inside of her then, and she realizes there is a wall worth salvaging, and it’s not the one in front of her.

“She’s not getting fired, Tom,” Shiv says, hoping the blood and the cement seep through, spoken proof that even knocked down, the fragments of Karolina are deep within her now.

Tom just stares at her, open-mouthed with that stupid, disbelieving smile.

“If you’re worried about the optics, Shiv—we’ll have her sign papers. This won’t come down on you,” he says. “It’ll be quick and painless, I mean, you won’t even have to be a part of it—”

“Tom,” Shiv snaps, he closes his mouth, jaw set. “I said, she’s not fucking getting fired.”

In come the theatrics.

“Oh, oh, I mean, of course, Shiv, I don’t—I mean, I wouldn’t really think of it as a firing, more so as a sort of, Witness Protection situation,” he says. “I mean, she can’t possibly come back to the office, right? That could be, well—sort of disastrous, if you think about it.”

She tries to imagine it, tries to picture either of them returning to Waystar with a shred of their dignity, and she wants to believe that there is a way, somehow.

“She can,” Shiv says. “It was just a part of the arrangement, right? If we don’t treat it like a big deal, then it’s not. Firing her looks sloppy, Tom. It’s guilty.”

“Yeah, Shiv, it’s fine,” Tom says, finally letting some of his anger come through. “Maybe I should walk in with her tomorrow, then everyone can know I’m friends with the woman from whom I got cucked.”

“I don’t really want that any more than you do,” Karolina says, and Shiv looks past Tom, his head immediately turning towards the sound of her voice.

“Karolina, hello—”

“Hi, Tom,” Karolina says.

She’s a new kind of silent. Shiv isn’t sure how long Karolina has been standing there, doesn’t know how much of the conversation Karolina heard, but however much, Shiv wishes she hadn’t.

“Uh, hey—Tom?” Shiv says, Tom now looking back at her. “Can you just, maybe?” She nods in the direction of the door, and he raises his eyebrows before a light, “Oh,” escapes him, suddenly cordial again now that Karolina’s in the room.

“Sure, sure, yeah, I’ll just—I need to take Mondale out. All of this…energy isn’t good for his sleep schedule, so. I’ll, um, I’ll leave you two to…it,” he says, wincing near the end.

They both wait for him to leave, Karolina not daring to move closer until she hears the door shut, and even then, it’s a minimal attempt at closing the distance.

“He seemed mad,” Karolina says.

“Yeah, well,” Shiv sighs. He reacted how she’d expected. Highly upset but too desperate to actually show it.

“I thought he knew,” Karolina says, her tone slightly accusatory.

“He knew, yeah,” Shiv says, trying to sound sure. “I guess, he just—didn’t know who with, is the problem.”

She doesn’t expect Karolina to believe her, not in the way she expects Tom to take her words at face value, and Karolina doesn’t. She never does.

“So, we’ve been having an affair,” Karolina states.

“I told you, Tom and I have—”

“An arrangement. Yeah, Shiv, I got it,” Karolina says. The silence isn’t awkward more than it is uncomfortable. There are too many things to say, too many questions and strategies and unknowns. Shiv starts with what’s simple.

“Who was on the phone?” she asks.

“It was Gerri,” Karolina says. “She, um—well, she chewed me out, and then she, you know. Advice.”

“And what was her advice?”

“She told me I should stock my arsenal,” Karolina says. “HR, journalists, lawyers. She gave me some numbers.”

“Are you going to call?” Shiv asks, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach.

“I don’t know, Shiv,” Karolina says. “I might.”

Shiv nods, unsure of what other response she could give. Of course, she doesn’t want Karolina to call those numbers. Of course, she wants Karolina to trust her, to believe that Shiv will do the right thing, to believe that Shiv would stand by her, would choose her. The longer this bullshit goes on, the more Shiv thinks that she would.

“Don’t,” Shiv says. “I’m not going to hang you out to dry. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Shiv,” Karolina sighs, and her face falls almost sympathetically. She moves closer to Shiv, though they still feel worlds apart, and Shiv wants nothing more than to reach out, to grab her hand and never let go. “It’s not you that I’m worried about.”

Dad. Shiv had nearly forgotten about him while trying to handle Tom.

“Did Gerri say—”

“He hasn’t called her about it,” Karolina says. “So, he either hasn’t seen it, or he’s ignoring it.”

Shiv lets out a sigh of relief at the information. This gives them time, a lot more time than she initially thought they’d have.

“So, we still have a chance to get ahead of it,” Shiv says. “Or he doesn’t believe it. Both work in our favor.”

“It doesn’t really matter whether he hasn’t seen it, Shiv, there’s a photo,” Karolina says. “Everyone else has seen it. The entire fucking internet has already seen it.”

“He’s the only person that matters, though,” Shiv says.

“The only person?” Karolina asks. “What about my subordinates? My boss, fucking—Hugo? There are people who want to see me fail. This could ruin me, Shiv.”

“It won’t ruin you,” Shiv says.

“I’ve been fucking the married daughter of the fucking CEO, Shiv. This is a PR disaster from hell,” Karolina says. “Who’s going to want to hire me? I’m a fucking liability now.”

Shiv waits for Karolina to say more. Waits for her to say that she regrets this, and that she never should’ve done it, and that it was a bad idea from the start. That Shiv’s malignant, a festering presence that bursts into people's lives and does her bidding and then leaves right before things go to shit, that she somehow makes it out unharmed every time, a body count living in her wake. She won’t let that happen to Karolina. Won’t even give her a chance to think it.

“I’ll handle it, Karolina,” Shiv says. “I’ll fucking, I’ll figure it out, okay?”

“How?” Karolina asks. Her voice is sharp and jagged and Shiv doesn’t think she’s ever heard it sound so unsure before, so small in the face of something so large.

“I don’t know, I’ll offer my soul to Shanghai, I’ll do the fucking management program, I’ll do whatever he wants—”

“What?” Karolina interrupts. “Shiv you’re not even in the company—”

“Why do you think I was in the office today?” Shiv asks. “It’s me. It’s fucking me, Karolina.”

Karolina shakes her head, confusion taking over her face. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know if he meant it, but he said it, and it’s something,” Shiv says. “If he wants me out of his precious politics, then it’s fucking something, okay? We have to try.”

Because if this is rock bottom, then Shiv has nothing left to lose, and she knows the Dems on Capitol Hill would kill to have the gay fucking Roy child on their campaigns. She can work with this; she just has to convince Karolina.

“Even if that did—it’s not a Get Out of Jail Free, Shiv,” Karolina says. She goes silent, her arms crossing gently. Her expression softens, her anger at the situation replaced with something sadder. She looks up at Shiv again, eyes boring into her from across the room, “Did he really choose you?”

“He said it,” Shiv shrugs. Karolina still doesn’t look convinced.

“It’ll never work,” Karolina says. “It just won’t, Shiv. The CEO of Waystar—home of ATN—with a woman?”

“Then we’ll go to Pierce,” Shiv says instantly. “Get them to agree to an exclusive sit down. Dad will be so mad he’ll back off. Fuckin’ extort the hell out of him. I’m from a crime family, right?”

Karolina’s brows furrow so thoughtfully, Shiv might think Karolina were pitying her. “No, Shiv.”

“Why the hell not?” Shiv asks, growing irritated when Karolina laughs.

“Shiv, you can’t ruin your life for me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shiv asks.

“That I can’t let myself get in the way of you becoming CEO.”

And it’s that. That sentence right there, when the decision’s already been made for her. She doesn’t care if Karolina hates her for the rest of her life and they never speak again; Shiv won’t let anything happen to her. Karolina, who didn’t go running to the papers right away. Karolina, a top PR strategist who could’ve spun the story in her favor within minutes of its release. Karolina, who desperately wants what’s in Shiv’s best interests. Karolina, who’s willing to throw away her tenure for a fucking vanity title Shiv isn’t sure she’ll ever actually get. Karolina, who cares about Shiv. Who’s worried about how it’ll affect her, sure, but who cares about how it’ll affect Shiv.

“And what if I told you that it wouldn’t even be worth being CEO unless you were there, by my side?” Shiv asks, finally moving closer to Karolina. Karolina's arms are still crossed, but she doesn’t move away as Shiv does so.

“I’d tell you that’s a stupid thing to say.” Karolina looks down, and Shiv lays a hand over her arms, squeezing lightly.

“I know this is bad, Karolina,” Shiv whispers, ducking her head as well. “I know that. But I don’t want any solution that doesn’t involve you. You’re non-negotiable.”

“I’m not an acquisition, Shiv,” Karolina says. “I’m a person and this is my life.”

“I have a life too,” Shiv says. “I want you in it.”

Karolina looks up, her eyes misty. “You have a husband.”

“I don’t have to,” she says, and it’s the first time she’s admitted those words out loud. The first time she verbalizes to another person that maybe she has made some wrong choices along the way.

“You’d leave him?” Karolina asks. Shiv looks into Karolina’s eyes and knows it’s not about leaving Tom. It’s about choosing Karolina.

“You make me feel like I’ve finally done something right, too,” Shiv says, tugging Karolina’s arms free. She presses their foreheads together, and Karolina’s hands grab at Shiv’s waist. They stand there in the silence, connected, and Shiv prepares herself for it to be the end, until Karolina’s voice rings out one final time.

“Shiv—are you sure?”

Shiv kisses Karolina, and it feels like nothing could ever go wrong again.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

 

—

“Look at this one,” Karolina says, rolling over in the bed. It’s been like this every morning since the divorce went through, Karolina doing her morning doom-scrolling and subjecting Shiv to the first round of daily tweets. She assumes one day it’ll get old, but for now, the only thing Shiv cares about is the peaceful glint in Karolina’s eyes and the easy smile she adorns, and Shiv lays her head on Karolina’s chest, giving her undivided attention to Karolina’s selection.

 

@milfupthesun: shiv roy has game like that ?

          ↳ @chaostheory: i mean we’ve all seen her girlfriend

                   ↳ @milfhotline: want a waystar baddie soooo bad now

          ↳ @onemintjulep: need her to teach me her ways

          ↳ @notromanroy1: shiv is definitely not the one with game

 

“Wait a minute—” Shiv snatches the phone and sits up, squinting at the screen. “Is that fucking Roman?”

[incubum]

okay so hear me out -

one night (post-s1 pre-s2) richie is sitting in a bench down by the pier having a teeny tiny existential crisis reading the book he told carmy about in ep1. a crying or maybe cried-out woman comes to sit next to him and after couple minutes of very awkward silence he asks her if she’s doing okay and regrets it very quickly because she is/was crying for fuck’s sake obviously she’s not okay. fortunately the question doesn’t backfire and she’s actually grateful cause she’s got so much bottled up so everything just sort of spills out. at the end of her rant she’s kind of embarrassed that she’s bothering this complete stranger with her whining but richie, who was also having a night full of self-pity himself, is feeling rather sympathetic and takes a chance on this strange woman and trauma-dumps in return. they spend the night wallowing and eventually end up feeling the tiniest bit better by morning once they get everything out there. surprisingly, a pathetic night turned out pretty good after all. eventually once the morning comes she has to leave to go to work. they exchange “see you later”s but forget that they haven’t exchanged names or numbers but this only hits richie later on when he goes to pick up his phone to talk to her and tell her something funny he’s heard that he thought she’d crack up at. which throws him back to square one, all sad and shit. a few days later they cross paths and richie thinks he has used up all his luck in the world on this moment, finding the one person he wanted to see again despite how fucking huge and crowded chicago is. this time they exchange names and numbers and it eventually turns into something serious. she travels a lot due to work so they’re always either texting or talking (mostly talking because richie doesn’t quite get texting). she texts him a photo of herself in his devry university sweatshirt that he left at her place and he makes it his lockscreen because that’s the sort of thing I KNOW he’d do okay don’t judge me. one day carmy sees his lockscreen and he goes “richie why the fuck is (character’s name — let’s call her roman roy because that’s the sort of thing i had in mind) your lockscreen?” and richie is so confused because although he has talked about her before he never gave them her full name so he says “how the fuck do you know jesse?” and carmy just laughs and goes “cousin that’s roman fucking roy she’s that asshole logan roy’s daughter, she’s a fucking billionaire” and richie is just so fucking shocked but obviously he dismisses carmy saying “why shouldn’t i know roman roy” and trying to act chill but the second he’s gone he’s immediately googling roman roy and his mind gets sooooo fucked and calls her a bajillion times while she’s in a meeting

okay that might be absolute crap but i was thinking abt succession and the bear happening in the same universe and this came out — it’s totally self-indulgent but i kinda wanna write it and see where it goes??? idk you’re my favourite richie writer and i guess i just wanted to tell you about it

never seen succession but i finally sat down and read this ask and i was vibing and jiving with it the whole time. you should DEFINITELY write it my dude

[gregkinz]

oh logan roy your days are numbered…..

[scarletttries]

Kendall Roy x Reader Engagement/Wedding Headcanons:

Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x Gender-neutral!Reader

Rating: Fluff with one slightly NSFW thought at the end clearly labelled.

Author’s Note: After my own lovely bachelorette party last weekend I got a request for wedding/engagement headcanons for Kendall Roy and couldn't resist! Thank you to everyone who wished me a lovely weekend for my Hen Do and for sending in so many amazing succession requests!! 😊

- From the minute he knew you were the one for him, Kendall would be mentally planning your wedding. It wouldn't matter that it would take him another year to actually propose, he'll live for meticulously planning every detail to make it the most memorable proposal and wedding in history, constantly be thinking of things he wanted for the two of you, scribbling down ideas in his notes app that he can't wait to share with you one day.

- The proposal would be so incredibly Kendall: there would be fireworks, and a stage, and he'd have prepared a musical number, and everything for the whole week would have been set up to lead you unawares to the moment he finally gets down on one knee and asks you to marry him. To be the other half he's always been missing. The loving family he never thought he could deserve. And when you, thank god, say yes; a hundred doves fly out behind you as glitter rains dow,n and it truly feels like something out of a movie or a fairytale, the staged photos front page of every paper in town that night.

- For the entire time you're engaged it's like Kendall's already in the honeymoon phase, his obsession with you is completely renewed. He's so enamoured he finds himself calling you into his office just so he can close the blinds and wrap his arms tightly around you, barely able to contain his grin as he leans down to kiss 'his fiance', a phrase he cannot stop uttering. He'll introduce you to people you've already met a dozen times just so he can say 'my fiance' about you again and again, cheeks aching from the smile that hasn't left his cheeks since you said yes.

- Now that you're engaged he'll also get even more ridiculous with gift giving; when Kendall first starts dating anyone he can be a little insecure that they're just with him for the money, so he holds back on being too generous until he knows their true feelings. But now, expect a bouquet of your favourite flowers every hour, on the hour, each with funny little notes Kendall writes imagining what your life will look like together. Not to mention he insists you both go shopping as 'you both need an entirely new wardrobe now that you're engaged.'

- There won't have been a lot of times you've been able to meet Sophie and Iverson while dating Kendall, so he'll be nervous about re-introducing you to them now that it's as his fiance. But he doesn't need to worry, Sophie is so smart and friendly she'll immediately start running through wedding planning ideas and suggesting you pick them up from school once a week so you can get to know the two of them better - she's seen how much better her father is doing since he found you and genuinely wants to keep you around as much as possible. Naturally Iverson is a lot more reserved, but you'll give him the space he needs and keep the pressure off and over time he'll smile when you walk in a room and Ken will know you've been accepted as part of their dysfunctional family unit.

- The other Roys might not be as welcoming to you when the announcement comes out, assuming you're just some beautiful airhead, or worse, coming after the family's power and fortune, despite how happy Kendall seems to be around you. The exception to this is of course Connor, who will pull you aside after Logan spends dinner shouting about how important prenups are, and tell you he's so excited to have another sibling and he's so happy Ken found you. *For more Kendall prenup drama I have a whole smut fic on it here.*

- Kendall would be torn between wanting a long engagement, loving the affectionate excitement the two of you share every time he catches the glint of your ring out the corner of his eye, and being so excited to plan the wedding that he gets it all set up for just a few months later. No expense would be spared for your day, whether you want to have an island to yourself, an exquisite country house or just to hire out the gallery of your dreams. As long as you're okay with it being BIG, then Kendall will make any dream you have come true.

- Kendall's first wedding was a much more classy, muted affair where he felt like he had to stifle himself to fit the idea of what a wedding should look like. He's learnt a lot about himself since then, and you've always been there to encourage him to be honest with you and hold on tight to the parts of his life that bring him joy, so be prepared for the whole day to be elaborate and spectacular.

- That doesn't mean it's not also magical, and romantic, and intimate. You and Kendall find ways to make every second meaningful to the two of you, stealing away for moments at a time to just look into each other's eyes, overwhelmed with the joy that you are now joined forever, secure together for all the ups and downs your lives will bring (unaware that one of three photographers Kendall hired is taking candid shots that Kendall will have printed as six foot high portraits to hang on the walls of his penthouse, and another dozen images to line his work desk.)

- While you and Kendall aren't too worried about a lot of the classic wedding traditions, you will spend the night before the wedding apart, opting for a cosy night in a luxury hotel with your friends to get prepped. You'll have to have your friends taking shifts by the door at all times though, as Kendall sends an influx of deliveries to show he's thinking of you. And then at 2am he'll turn up at your hotel suite begging your friends to let him see you one more time, "for one last night of sin" and they'll have to remind him it's bad luck and force the door shut in his moping face.

- But it's completely worth it as he sees you for the first time on your wedding day, somehow more beautiful than he could have pictured, dressed to perfection, wearing the same smile as you walk towards him that you did that first day he kissed you and knew then and there that this day would be coming soon. He has to choke back tears as he stutters through his vows, overwhelmed by finally having a true family member in his corner who can love him and have his back through anything.

- Without getting too NSFW, we can all agree Kendall on his wedding night would come at you like a man starved. Greedy hands squeezing and clawing at your thighs hard enough to leave marks as his teeth clash against yours with the sheer fervour that he comes in to kiss you with. A strangled mix of growls and moans, broken up by ecstatic laughs fill the room as he embraces you for the first time as his spouse, exploring and tasting every inch of you like you are an entirely new world only he gets to claim. A world where now he feels safe and accepted and loved. A world he's never going to leave.

[bamboobrat]

succession s4 e6 recap: bite me

happy international workers day, girlies!!

let's celebrate by watching billionaires be responsible for multiple SEC violations!

the bitch is back.

shitting on his children even from beyond the grave.

the video in question: logan speaking of their new product, living+, which will play a surprisingly large role in this episode, given we've never heard of it before.

shiv has a private jet rendezvous with mattson. they both excel at flirting:

mattson: we're buddies, can we talk? shiv: no, maybe i fucking hate you.

true romance<3

mattson tells her about the CE-bros and their little freakout on the mountain, which is the opposite of what her brothers eventually tell her during the meeting with the inner circle.

ken and rome, still adamant about tanking the deal, tell them that elon musk mattson is unstable and druggy etc etc etc --

somehow, i don't think any of them are buying it.

shiv sure as shit doesn't buy their bs.

this is the comeback i've been waiting for.

roman immediately makes his sadboy face and asks for a hug, because all he wants is love, but my heart is starting to harden. he is truly in his flop era this episode.

shiv pencils in 20 minutes in her calendar to cry.

i love you, shiv roy. ilysm, but you will never be holly hunter from broadcast news.

cry-time is briefly interrupted by making out with the future ex-husband she absolutely hates.

we've all been there.

roman has to deal with hollywood.

he is not pleased.

i can sense the utter distain jesse armstrong has for hollywood through my screen.

the hollywood exec pushes one of roman's buttons (lots of them lately) and he fires her in a way that reminds me of logan, but also doesn't. i have a feeling logan would send "the help" to do the dirty work for him?

roman's firing spree begins. we all know where this is headed.

kendall is being annoying.

asking too much and telling your staff they can never say no?

just a regular day for me, working with politicians.

also, a fucking minefield in terms of sexual harassment, don't we think?

anyway, he wants to play house on stage and fudge the numbers and be the cringiest of cringe. let kendall be kendall, i guess.

tom and shiv hook up twice in this episode????

unrealistic.

also they bite each other.

i shouldn't have to elaborate on that.

ken and rome are still working on their "tank the deal" plan and so far the road ahead seems very realistic and not at all like the potential symptom of bipolar disorder.

for once, greg is of use and summarizes their strategy pretty well:

bla bla bla business talk bla bla bla i don't care.

roman contemplates his own mortality, as one does, and thinks there should be some other option.

death is, after all, very much one-size-fits-all.

and where does he want to end up post death, you ask?

inside a tortoise 👀

conveniently, gerri calls him in for a talk to chat to him about some very serious issues, such as:

roman is shocked to know he can't just do whatever the fuck he pleases. but that's what my dad would do, he says, to which gerri responds, but you are not your dad.

i think we've hit another button..........

and gerri, having zero fucks left to give, does not hold back.

uh oh.

and thus, roman's firing spree continues.

i'm broken.

and also mad.

i know there are probably some readers of this recap not entirely obsessed with romangerri (but really, do you exist?!), but i just have to say, please endulge me.

we're just over halfway through the season and gerri's been fired twice. let me wallow.

kendall, however, is thrilled about this unhinged energy:

"fucking eat greg" is perhaps the funniest thing he's ever said.

meanwhile, after sleeping together, shiv and tom share a heartfelt moment.

just kidding.

tom says he loves money.

how gauche of him.

the set is not up to par for our mate kendall over here, so he morphs into joni mitchell for a short sec:

I'VE LOOKED AT CLOUD FROM BOTH SIDES NOW!

where are the clouds from berlin?? really makes u think:(

luckily, he can fudge the numbers some more to elevate the stock price to distract himself.

the sibs, however, notice his erratic behavior, and shiv convinces rome that this whole presentation is not a good idea.

and despite the eventual outcome, i think they are right, given ken's track record.

karl has a spine conspiracy?????

it feels good having the old guard telling the kiddos how they truly feel.

in the back of his mind, all karl is thinking about is that greek island. that's queen shit.

kendall goes on stage alone, because roman really doesn't want to wear his stupid pilot jacket.

he interacts with a video version of his late dad, which of course shows a man that is so very stable.

best roman quote of the episode: if i cringe any harder i might become a fossil.

gerri agrees, but in a more resigned way:

couples who hate on kendall's speeches together, stay together<3 (this is what denial looks like).

my summary of kendall's presentation: starts out shit, then he pivots into karolina's script and it's fine, and then he plays the dead dad card and we can't really argue with that.

living+ is still a fucking shitshow imo. not sure if i would go as far as mattson, tho:

yikes.

leave it to the swedes to underestimate nazi discourse (please don't come for me swedes, you know).

greg unfortunately has the best line of the episode:

and turns out, it is very much true.

tom channeling his inner oprah was not on my 2023 bingo card.

and they all agreed ken did a great job.

and karl devolves into his usual, spineless self:(

i have a feeling this all means an end to whatever sibling solidarity we've been seeing, given shiv and roman's reactions.

roman comforts himself by listening to what is basically an AI generated clip of his dad saying he has a small penis.

shiv and tom seem to decide to keep it all business, but also not??

it feels more or less like a high school relationship to me at this point. i love it.

and we get a clip of kendall in the water, but he didn't die, so i couldn't use one of my precious screengrabs on that.

you all should probably thank the tumblr gods that they have a 30 image limit on these posts.

see you next week for the afterparty, featuring more scandis for me to make strange references about!

[hughiecampbelle]

Dependence Pt. 3 (Roy!Sibling x Roy Family)

Character/s: Connor, Kendall, Shiv, Roman, Logan

Word Count: 2,054

Warning: addiction, drugs, alcohol, death mention

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Idk how angsty this is on a scale of 1-10, but I can tell you it's actually very sweet and very heartbreaking. Baby Roy is going through it!!! I love them!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Dependence Pt. 1 / Dependency Pt. 2 / Dependence Pt. 4 / Dependence Pt. 5

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include Pt One.

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include Pt. Two

The first number you called was Logan’s. The next was Kendalls. The last was Connor’s. Slurred, sleepy, assuring him you were going to be okay. You would be okay because the shaking had stopped, you were warming up again, you were feeling better. You couldn’t keep your eyes open though, the lids too heavy. Curled into a ball in the booth, cradling a stranger's phone, slipping into unconsciousness. He said something, something that sounded sad, panicked. You were going to be okay, you felt so light. Your pulse is barely there. He yelled again, but it was incoherent. You were tired, the exhaustion setting deep into your bones. If you just put your head down, if you shut your eyes for a moment, then you could get some sleep. You’d be alright. The last coherent words from your mouth was an apology: I’m so sorry, I’m fucked up. I’m sorry. . . You were so light, so far away. It felt nice. No more anger. No more rage. No more self-hatred. Finally, you were free. Free from it all, free from him, from life. 

He peered over your crib, taking you all in. you were a few months old, just staring up at him. Your eyes are so wide, so new to the world. You slept in the nursery they’d all been in, though things were different. Boxes of things had been placed in the corners, on the floor of the closet, as if you were only a temporary guest. You reached up, cooing at the mobile. Zoo animals spinning round and round. Your mother and Logan off somewhere, doing something, unbothered by the little life they created. You were a quiet baby, as if you already knew what was coming, as if you could sense the irritation in your fathers voice every time you cried, hissing at your mother to quiet you down. Neither of them were fit for this kind of job, as young as he was, Roman could sense it. When your smile fell, he picked you up, out of the crib, and sat back in the rocking chair. A few whimpers was all you let out, as if you were already bottling it up inside. He remembers how small you were, how sorry he was. Not just for your father, your mother, the both of them terribly one minded, only ever thinking of themselves, but for this life as well. It wasn’t easy, that much he’d learned in his short life. It would never be easy. The money, the luxury, it helped, but it could only do so much cushioning. A fresh bruise throbbed over his eye. That day, in your cramped bedroom where it seemed like they put just about anything in, he made a promise to you. He’d never let you get hurt. He’d never let them hurt you the way they hurt him. You smiled up at him, all gums, like you knew what he was saying, like you were thanking him. It would not be an easy job. Pacing the floors of the emergency room, the realization struck him like a slap to the face: he failed. He failed you. He hadn’t protected you from anything, especially your father. He didn’t do what he’d promised you. 

You stood to the side of Shiv’s bed, blankie thrown over your shoulder. You were too frightened to wake her, not wanting to scare her, so you were as still as possible. Your breathing ragged from the nightmare, your cheeks still wet. Lately, you've been having one every night. Your room, without the toys, without the decorations, without anything, felt more like a prison than your bedroom. You were being punished again. Quietly, you tiptoed down the hall, down the stairs, to where their bedrooms were. The boys doors were shut, but Shiv’s had been left slightly open. You took that as a sign, taking the handle in your chubby little hand. Her room had looked the same since you could remember. She slept soundly on her side. Barely above a whisper, you called her name. Shivy? Over and over again until she stirred. She used to jump when you came in, when you woke her, but this had become routine the last few weeks. If it wasn’t her, it was Ken or Rome. One of them always woke up to you in their bed, unable to bear yours any longer. A nightmare, you’d confess. They’d nod, understanding all too well, making room for you beside them. She doesn’t say anything, wordlessly moving to the other side, opening the blankets. You climbed up next to her, making sure Blankie got there too. She let her arm fall on to you, holding you close. She’d always remembered the way you smelled. Sweet, sweaty, warm. Her face buried in your hair, tightening her grip. You were so small, so scared. She couldn’t fall back to sleep until she heard your shallow breathing even. You never had any nightmares with her. That’s what she thought of you when she saw you in that bed, how she was living a nightmare, that if she’d been there for you, if she’d let you climb into her bed, none of this would have happened.

He’d asked you to dance at your mothers wedding. It was one of the first times in a long time you weren’t drinking yourself to bed. She’d been married four, five times. It wouldn’t last long, they never did. You were just thankful she decided not to have anymore kids. Though, what did that say about you? He found you sitting at one of the many tables, watching everyone else dance. He held out his hand. It took you a moment to realize just what he was asking, shrugging before you stood, taking his hand. She’d invited your brothers and sister despite not knowing them very well, needing bodies to fill up chairs. She invited everyone she knew every time, though the guest list grew smaller and smaller with every debut. There were only so many last names a woman could collect before people stopped caring. She’d whined about it to you before she walked down the aisle, calling them ungrateful and selfish for ruining her day. She seemed happy now, swaying in the arms of another Logan-type, her veil lifted by the wind. Picturesque. He leads you to the dance floor, his hand on your back, the other in yours. Kendall seemed content, a rare occurrence for him. He looked nice, dressed in a lightly colored suit for the summer wedding, smiling down at you. You placed your head against his chest, taking him in, grateful for his presence in that moment. You hadn’t realized how unhappy you’d been, how taxing doing this all over again was. Your mother wasn’t the root cause for your problems, but she didn’t help. It felt like every day was her wedding day. Every day it was about her, her wants, her needs, and it was all a disaster. In the end she got what she wanted, in the end she was the only one left smiling. You caught him watching you think, unsure of what his mind was doing. He remembered it like it was yesterday. You seemed so grown up, so worn down. Not like the baby he remembered. He hugged you a little tighter, not wanting this moment to pass. Now it was too late. You looked so defeated, so young, it scared him. What could he have done to stop this? Surely there was something, something he could have done to prevent this. He never should have let you go. 

That night is burned into his memory forever. You were crying, sobbing into the phone. You were so scared, so alone. When he got the call, he moved without thinking. He got in the car and started driving, trying to keep you on the phone. You dropped a pin in the middle of nowhere. You were so tired. Not just exhausted, but you ached in the marrow of your bones. You were so done with this life, with everything. You’d hoped, in your moment of desperation, of sincerity, that your father would care. That he would come to your rescue, save you from yourself. Instead Connor pulled up to the sidewalk you’d been sitting on, opening the passenger side door for you. You wiped your tears with the palms of your hands, unable to say anything, to defend yourself, your actions. He didn’t yell like you were expecting, he didn’t ask a million questions or patronize you. Internally he was lost. Should he drive you to the hospital? Back to Dads? In the end, he brought you home, to his place. You wanted to thank him, to apologize for being such a mess, but all you could do was press your head against the cold window and cry. You weren’t sure what time it was, what day it was, the last time you slept. Days, probably. He grabbed your hand, the other on the wheel, rubbing his thumb against the back of it. That made you cry harder. Connor hated to see you like that. You were his baby after all. He squeezed your hand off and on, three times. I love you. You were small in his car, fragile, covered in bruises. The bags under your eyes were so dark, so painful looking. He’d never forget it, the way you flinched at the sight of him, like you were waiting for an explosion. He wasn’t angry or disappointed, he was petrified for you. If he could go back, would he have done anything differently? He’s not sure. Would changing anything have an impact now? You were sleeping, IV’s in your arms, wires stuck to your chest, the hospital gown hanging off you. You were skin and bone. The rings around your eyes so black, so bruised. He didn’t think you could look worse after that night, and yet, again, you’ve proved him wrong. He didn’t think it could get worse. He squeezed your hand three times, over and over again, so it would be the first thing you felt when you woke up. I love you. I love you. I love you.

They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. That didn’t happen to you, not even when you were sure you were gone for good. Instead, it was your life that flashed before their eyes. All the best moments, the worst, the things they had and hadn’t done as older siblings, all their failings. Someone called an ambulance. They used Narcan and charcoal. You were covered in sickness, shaking, gasping for air. In and out of it, not wanting any of them to see you like this. It was you and the nurses, everyone else left to wait in the emergency room, trickling in as soon as they got there. You hadn’t slept in days, exhausted, sobbing. The nurses held you as you cried out, sucked from the blackness back to real life. Everything hurts. Everything stung. Everything you’d done came flooding back. Regret sat heavy on your chest. You were almost gone, so close. It was so light, so airy. You screamed, wanting to go back, wanting to be back there, in that booth, in the club, far away from here. The frustration at yourself suffocated you. It was inescapable. There was no running from it anymore. They gave you something to calm you down, letting you sleep. Finally, It wasn’t the same kind of floating feeling, but it was close enough. Your brothers and sister sat beside you, scared to touch you. You were so little, so broken. Of course you wouldn’t do well, they thought. Of course you shouldn’t have been left on your own like that. Of course this happened. Connor held your hand, the only one brave enough to touch you. They weren’t sure what they were going to do or say when you woke up, but they could feel it on the tip of their tongues: the sadness, the anger, the apologies, the hurt. They knew, whatever they did, they had to be there for you, like they’d been before. When you cried. When you had nightmares. When you were getting better and when you fell again. They’d be there for everything.