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wicked-hg · 3 years

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Empire || o.w.

This is a part of @iliveiloveiwrite song fic challenge.

Oliver Wood x reader

Song prompt: Empire by Elle Henderson

Summary: Oliver has an interview with a quidditch reporter who wants to know more about the “quidditch empire” he has built. Oliver reflects on the life he has built with Y/N.

WC: 3.9k

A/N: I am so excited to finally post this! I’ve been working on it for a while and it went longer than I thought it would, but that’s okay. I hope you all enjoy it. Please please please check out the song! I tried to keep it in mind writing this, but overall it is just a fantastic song and one of my favorites. I found the below image when looking for an Oliver Wood gif, and this was so cute!!!! Plus it goes with the story. Italics are the interview.

“Mr. Wood, thank you for sitting down with us,” the reporter greeted. “I know many people are dying to know more about you and your growing quidditch empire.”

“Empire?” Oliver chuckled. “I wouldn’t call what I ‘ave an empire.”

“What would you call it then? You are a renowned quidditch player and now a coach for Puddlemere United. Your wife was a former strategist for the Pride of Portree and is the granddaughter of Kennilworthy Wisp and Devlin Whitehorn. You also have seven children. If that isn’t a quidditch empire, then what is it.”

“Me family,” Oliver answered. “Aye, me wife comes from two great lineages and aye quidditch did bring us together, but I love her for so much more than that. Quidditch was only an excuse to talk to her. It isn’t our relationship.”

-----------------------------

You had friends at Hogwarts. There were people who enjoyed your company. They were always there to talk quidditch to you, but that was about it. Once you tried switching the subject they suddenly had to go work on homework that had already been turned in. You knew though captains of quidditch teams didn’t lie that they wanted to be your friend. They were straightforward that they wanted your analysis of their team, and the other teams, and what strategies they should use to be successful. Each one came on the same day at the same time like clockwork. Today was Wednesday. That meant Oliver Wood would find her around 6:55. Oliver was the one captain who would seek you out no matter where you were in the castle. You had to always be in the same place for the others.

The clock chimed 7:00 when Oliver found you today. “You’re five minutes later than normal, Wood,” you commented.

Oliver shrugged as he sat next to you. “I knew you’d be here, but I wasn’t sure how loud it would be,” Today’s spot was the clock tower. “So I wanted to wait until after the clock rang.”

You sat in silence. Usually you jumped quickly into the quidditch talk, but Oliver sat silently. “You alright, Wood? You’re quiet today. You play Hufflepuff next week if I recall. I wouldn’t really worry about them. They’ve had a devastating losing streak so far. Their beaters aren’t doing well. They’ve been on injury rotation. Fleet also doesn’t have your skills.”

Oliver smiled. “Me skills? You notice I’m quite skilled, Y/N?”

You tried to keep yourself from blushing. Something was different about how he said this. “Of course I do, Wood. I’m Hogwarts residential quidditch analyst.”

“Oliver,” he said. You glanced at him, confused. “Call me Oliver. Not Wood.”

You nodded. “Okay then...Oliver.” Silence washed back over the two of you. “Do you have any other questions? Or do you want info about the new Nimbus? The rest have wanted that.”

Oliver shook his head. “Why don’t you play? Every house goes to you for advice, yet you don’t even play for your own. Why is that?”

No one had ever asked you that. In fact, no one had ever asked any questions about you yourself. “I used to when I was younger with my siblings. I have six older ones.”

“Me too,” Oliver said. “Poppy, Daisy, Juniper, Ivy, Violet, and Flora. They thought I was gon’ be a girl. When it turned out I was a boy, I was named Oliver instead of Olive. That way all they had to do was add an ‘r’ to everything. Sorry for interrupting you. The Weasleys are the only other ones I know with a family of seven siblings.”

You smiled. “It’s alright. Sounds like your family went for a theme.” Oliver nodded. “I think that’s cool. My parents didn’t. I’m the youngest. I have four brothers—Dorian, Finnigan, Simon, and Leon—and two sisters—Evangeline and Benjamina.”

“So you played quidditch with them. Why not anymore?”

“I got hit in the head with a bludger,” you told him. I know that happens a lot to players, but I was about five. Gramps and PopPop were fighting again. They don’t get along at all, and my parents were out celebrating their anniversary. I don’t know why they had those two watching us instead of just picking one. Granny and Nan were trying to calm them down. We were playing quidditch on PopPop’s prototype of the Nimbus 1650.”

“Nimbus 1650? I’ve never heard of that one.”

“That’s because it was never released to the public. It had too many flaws. Anyway, I played seeker. It’s how I learned to analyze patterns besides listening to Gramps. The bludger hit me upside the head and as I fell it hit me again in the jaw. Honestly though, it felt like two hits to the head because my head was the size of a bludger back then. I couldn’t get on a broom after that. I tried. I tried so many times. I just was never able to fly. The brooms wouldn’t listen. Besides, the healer says one more bludger to the head will kill me.”

“We can’t have that then. I’ll get ya on a broom, but I’m not letting ya anywhere near a bludger.” You grinned at his comment. “You belong in the air though. Every time I find you, you're usually high up. The wind will be blowing through your hair soon enough. I promise.”

“You can’t make promises like that, Oliver.”

Oliver shushed you. “Tomorrow. We start tomorrow at this time on the pitch. You’re not meant to be caged, Y/N. Let me help you fly free.”

“What makes you think that you will be the one to do so?” You asked him, trying not to gain any hope from Oliver’s promise. Your family had done everything they could. How could Oliver be successful?

He smiled and grabbed your hand. “I won’t let you fall. I’ll catch you. Do you trust me?”

There was a fire in his eyes now. He had hope he could do this, and you did too. “Absolutely.”

—————

“And what about having seven children? A quidditch team is made up of seven players. One could assume you are breeding your own quidditch team.”

“Well, one can assume all they want. The truth is, life just happened this way. Y/N and I both came from large families; both of us are the youngest of seven. We were fine having that many kids. Just know though there aren’t any more Wood children coming,” Oliver grinned. “And don’t believe that rumor that all of our kids are named after types of wood unknowingly or fun. It was the result of losing a series of bets.”

“What?”

The reporter paused in thought. “Oh my Merlin. Your children are all named after types of wood. You did that on purpose? Because of bets?”

Oliver blinked. “No…”

“But you just said—” Oliver stared at the reporter, daring him to continue. “So when did people pick up on it?”

—————

He was so small. Granted, Rowan and Willow had been too. Perhaps he was bigger than them though. He was definitely louder. “He’s got quite the lungs to him,” you murmured to Oliver as you handed him your new son. “Rowan and Willow were quiet and pensive. He’s loud and ready to fight. Has been since the womb. Hopefully the bruises will go away now.”

This third babe had been a handful—constantly moving and kicking the bruises actually began to appear on your abdomen. “Reckon he’ll be a beater if he plays some day,” You chuckled in agreement with your husband. “Hello there, Al. Glad you’re finally here. Your brother and sister are so excited to meet you.”

“Al,” you sighed lovingly, “I like it. Al Wood. Is it short for anything?”

“Alder.”

“Alder. That’s nice,” Silence washed over the room until your eyes flew open. “Alder? Did you just say Alder? As in the tree? Oliver, is our son named Alder Wood?”

“Yes…”

“Rowan and Willow are going to ma—” Realization hit you. “Rowan and Willow. Rowan Wood. Willow Wood. Oliver Wood, are our children named after types of trees? Have you named our children after types of trees when I am in a state of fatigue after birthing them?”

“Yes and no,” he replied. He carefully held the newborn close to his chest. “All of these names I suggested to you when we discussed it, and you liked them. I just suggested them in a different light. Rowan is a good Scottish name, and Willow is an old English name and a well respected magical tree. Alder...I don’t think I ever did mention Alder to you. I was hoping to get away with that one.”

You reached for your son. Looking down at him, you couldn’t imagine him being named anything else. “I can’t imagine him being anything else now. If we have more children, we will discuss this first. I just didn’t realize you so desperately wanted a theme. I thought you hated the name theming after your parents have done it to you and your sisters.”

“I do!” Oliver argued.

“Then why name our children after types of wood and trees?”

Oliver sighed. He knew there was no lying to you anymore. “I lost a bet back in Hogwarts to Weasley.”

You sighed. “I’m gonna yell at George when I get out of here. I can’t imagine our children being named anything different now, but still. I don’t care if it was his or Fred’s fault.”

“Actually it was Percy.”

—————

“You were married right before hell broke loose in the Second Great Wizarding War, and if I recall you even participated in it.”

“Aye. I did. Many witches and wizards in the league did once it got shut down in ‘97.”“Did this affect you and your wife?”

“Of course it did. It affected everyone. Plus we were still young and so was Rowan.”

“Rowan?”

“Me eldest boy. How did you not know that? I would’ve thought you’d know the names of me kids the way you’ve been going on.”

The reporter shrugged as he jotted this all down in his notebook.

——————

Oliver had done what he could to help the light in the war, but his priority was his family. He had a wife and a son now. His wife was also expecting their second child. He laid down next to his wife. “Rowan’s fast asleep,” he whispered. “He went down quickly tonight.”

You smiled as you snuggled into him. “She’s being quiet tonight too.”

He smiled and glanced down at your protruding belly. “How do you know it’s a she?”

“I just do,” You were quiet for a moment before asking, “Oliver, do you ever regret how we did things?”

Everything was on track for you and Oliver when you graduated. You had both taken big jobs in the world of quidditch. You were young and everyone knew your names. Then in the late spring of 1995 you found out a baby was on the way. Rowan was born that December. A year and a half later you two finally got married in the early summer of 1997. Now in May of 1998 you were almost 8 months pregnant with the second baby Wood.

“I will never ever regret us or our kids,” he told you. “This is I guess just how it was meant to be. Do I wish that the world was safer for them? Absolutely. I wish we would’ve had more time to fight to give them a better world. I will do anything to make sure they don’t live under these conditions. I hope every day that Rowan doesn’t remember living in a time of such fear and chaos.”

“I am terrified, Olli,” you admitted.

“Me too,” he agreed, “But I will always be here to protect you. No one will destroy what we have created.”

Hours later he was summoned to Hogwarts for one last battle. You waited for him to return. When Rowan woke, you acted as if everything was normal. “Daddy just had to go take care of some business,” you told Rowan when he asked about Oliver. An owl from St Mungo’s arrived close to bedtime. You flooed your mother to stay with your son as you rush to the hospital. Oliver, with his confunded eye, grinned at you. He had a gash on his forehead and was covered in dirt, yet he smiled because they had won.

——————

“So did helping in the war aid your career at all?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“I just didn’t know if it helped your skills.”

“My skills are and were fine both prior and after the war.”

—————

“Sweetheart, I think you need to get your sight checked out,” You told Oliver one morning before he headed off to practice. “You’re missing more shots on your right, even though you’re right handed. People are starting to pick up on that.”

“I still catch the quaffle,” Oliver muttered. “That’s what matters.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t. I’m just saying your reaction time is slower and more have been slipping through. You know, as an analyst for an opposing team I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”

Oliver sighed. “That’s the eye.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh. I forgot it was the right one. I thought you got it healed?”

During the Battle of Hogwarts, Oliver had taken a confundus charm to the eye. For a while his eye was completely confounded and unable to focus. Eventually the healers were able to resituate it back to normal; however, Oliver’s vision had not quite yet returned back to normal.

“It can still get a bit blurry and spinny.”

“You need to talk to the coaches, Oliver. That can be a danger for you,” you said. You wrapped your arms around him. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I know you will overcome this and learn to play with it, but I need you safe. You have a family to come home to.”

Oliver nodded and hugged you. “I promise, leannan. I promise.”

—————

“Was there ever tension or conflict when you played the Pride?”

Oliver shrugged. “Y/N and I had a deal. We would note interfere between Puddlemere and the Pride of Portree. Teams have multiple strategists, and while, aye, she was their main one there were others to take care of handling strategies against Puddlemere. As for me, in my entire career, I never played a game against them—even after she retired and took over the broom business. The main keeper during my early years and reserve in my later years always played.”

“Seriously? Not even after she retired? You could’ve. It would’ve just furthered your career.”

“Perhaps, but I also knew that if I did it would make me wife choose between her husband and the team she grew to love. I couldn’t do that to her. Plus it kept me in shape.”

————

You saw Oliver walk down the stairs carrying your newborn girls and Al clinging to his back. “I thought you had a game today,” you asked as he set Al down and tried to put Holly and Hazel into the highchairs. Rowan and Willow followed behind them.

“”Play quidditch, daddy?” Willow asked. “We go watch a game?”

“Puddlemere plays Portree today. I never play against them.” Oliver sat down and started to feed the twins breakfast.

“But, Oliver,” you said confused, “That was when I worked for them. I don’t work for them anymore. You can play if you want to.”

He shook his head. “Today is for us.”

“Us? Like you and mum or the whole family?” Rowan asked.“

The whole family,” Oliver answered. “I’ve gone this long not playing Portree. No reason to start now. Besides, the team means so much to you, Y/N. I can’t put you between them and me. It’ll be a good day for us all to hang out too. Be a proper family.”

You smiled as you set the rest of breakfast in front of your children and helped Al get his food while WIllow and Rowan snatched theirs up. “That actually sounds amazing. Thank you, Oliver. Anything in mind for us to do today?”

“Perhaps the beach? The sun is out for once.”

“You just want to even out your tan line,” Rowan chuckled. Oliver glared at his son, knowing he was absolutely correct.

————

“You could’ve had another few years to your career. Why did you retire? Your retirement came before your predecessor’s exit.”

Oliver thought for a moment, wondering if he should tell the whole truth. “I was a father to six. I had just found out Reed was going to be born—“

“Is Reed your sixth kid?”

“No he’s the seventh and final.”

“Can you tell me who all your kids are. I’m getting them confused.”

Oliver huffed. “In order there is: Rowan, Willow, Alder, we call him Al, the twins, Holly and Hazel, followed by Ash, and ending with Reed.”

“One more time.”

Oliver sighed. He couldn’t take much more of this. “Rowan, Willow, Alder, Holly, Hazel, Ash, and Reed.”

The reporter finished writing those down. “Got it.”

“As I was saying, I had just found out my youngest child was on the way and I had also found out some other news.”

————

“Pregnant?”

You nodded. “I know we hadn’t planned this. It’s kid number seven,” You sat down next to him. “Oh Merlin, it’ll be our seventh child. We’re going to have a full team, Oliver. Al starts Hogwarts next year. Willow is starting her second year this year. Rowan takes his OWLS this year! The twins just started nursery school. Ash is finally no longer scared of the loo.”

“I’m going to retire,” Oliver said suddenly.

“What?” you gasped. “Oliver, darling, you don’t need to do that. Dorian and I run PopPop’s business just fine. You don’t need to give up your career. We support you. I support you.”

Oliver kissed your cheek and rested his hand against your stomach. “I’m almost 40, Y/N. I’ve been missing goals at practice for a while. Coach sent me to a healer during practice. There’s no more quidditch for me. Too many bludgers to the head. We make quite the pair. They found that part of my brain is swollen. I have to have treatment for a few more weeks and I’ll be good as new.”

You threw your arms around him and held him close. “Oh Oliver. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t want you to act differently in front of the kids. I found out all the details today though. I’m telling Coach tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you have to do this, Oliver.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. “I’m getting old anyway. This was going to happen eventually. I missed parts of my kids' lives because of quidditch. No more of that.”

“They’ll be heartbroken, you know.”

Oliver nodded. “What about you?”

“I just want you safe and happy. I will always support your choice. I can’t lose you, Oliver. You’re silly to think I’d ever let you near a bludger again now.”

Oliver chuckled remembering his promise to you all those years ago. “Poor Al. No more bludgers for the Woods. We’re gonna need to find a place to send him.”

“I ran into an old classmate of ours. She’s married to Marcus Fli—”

“I’m not sending me son to play with a bludger at Marcus Flint’s place! I’d rather take him to Weasley!”

————

Oliver watched the reporter go with a smile on his face. That was the last one. He couldn’t handle continuously doing those. His agent was right; he just needed to write a damn book.

“Is the reporter done?”

Oliver turned and his smile became a grin as he kissed you. “Aye. Thank Merlin too. That was an imbecile. I’m gonna have to write that book so I don’t have to deal with any more of them.”

You grinned and hugged him. “I told you so. Come on now, sweetheart. They’re all waiting for you.”

“Can you believe Al is off to Hogwarts tomorrow?”

You shook your head as you snuggled into him. “That leaves us with four though. We’re not quite at an empty nest, Oliver.”

“I know. It’s just,” Oliver paused. “As I answered questions I just thought back to different moments in our life. Did you ever think we’d get here? That we’d build this...this...this empire of ours?”

You smiled. “I always hoped. I couldn’t imagine living my life with anyone else. Though our life is full of quidditch, in so, so many ways, you still made sure it was about so much more than that. Now come Oliver. Our little empire is ready to eat dinner.”

————---------

“Are we almost there?” You asked Oliver. “I feel like we’ve been walking forever. Why couldn’t we have just apparated?”

Oliver chuckled as he gripped your hand tighter to make sure he didn’t lose you as you climbed higher on the hill. “That would ruin the magic of it all, leannan.”

“Can you give me any clues, Oliver? Besides the fact it must be a decent spot for a picnic,” You glanced down at the picnic basket in your hand. When Oliver had invited you to his home, you were excited. Never before had you been to his family home in the highlands. You had met his family at his sisters’ homes. “You know the only thing I know about the highlands is that you are from here, and you don’t even live here anymore!”

“We’re almost there anyway,” he answered. “This is a place me dad took me mum when they were like us. When I told them about you, he brought me in case you were my gu bràth. We’re in the midst of Loch Katrine. It can be a popular place for muggle photographers to come take photos but they’re quite intimidated by this mountain, thanks to magic.”

Oliver helped you climb up a few more meters. You saw the giant grin on his face. This must be someplace special. He was just as excited as if they were about to jump right into a game of quidditch. You set the basket down and felt his hand squeeze yours. “Look at it, leannan. It’s beautiful.”

Finally you turned to join him, and he wasn’t wrong The area of Loch Katrine was gorgeous as the leaves had started to change. “This is beautiful, Oliver. It is absolutely gorgeous here.”

His smile grew and he pulled you closer. Your head rested on his chest and listened to the sound of his beating heart. Afterwhile he whispered, “I have found strength in your arms. We have built the foundation for an amazing love, and you will always rule my heart. Nobody can or will ever destroy what we have.”

You burrowed closer into his chest and felt his arms wrap around you more. Oliver had always been a ray of hope, and you knew he would continue to be one for you. You knew, you could feel your relationship growing in many ways at that moment. You hoped to Merlin, as you looked across the Scottish highlands in the arms of the man you loved, that someday you would build an indestructible empire with him. It is what you both deserved.

#oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood one shot #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood reader insert #hp imagine #hp one shot #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #my own work #iliveiloveiwrite3.5k

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rhetoricalrogue · 4 years

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31 Days of Wayhaven, Day 17

Prompt: AU Rating: PG for Nicky’s language Words: 2,222 Characters: Unit Charlie, brief mention of Units Alpha and Bravo, as well as Detective Aubrey Miller. Summary: What happens when the coffee shop co-worker and the University co-worker get tired of their partners sighing over the other and decide to take matters into their own hands.

For the @31daysofwayhaven event.

Penny rolled her eyes as she came into work, hanging her coat on the nearby staff coat rack. Nicky had gotten there earlier than she had, which meant that he got to pick the music for the day, which also meant that she was going to be in for a day of listening to him sing along with Dean Martin. Not that it was a bad thing, but they’d done an entire shift of the Rat Pack the other day already.

“You’re late.”

She grimaced as she pulled on a dark brown apron and quickly pulled the strings around her waist to make a tidy bow at her hip. “Yeah, car trouble.”

Nicky shook his head. “You really ought to sell that thing, get you a new one.”

“With what money? No, the car trouble was because my brother decided to borrow it without asking me. I woke up to a note and had to grab the bus. Then the bus wasn’t on time, so I walked the rest of the way.”

He poured her a drink, a smooth hazelnut latte with a dusting of chocolate on top that he made perfectly to her tastes. At least that was something to cheer her up on a rainy morning, especially since he was practicing his foam art and made her a graceful looking swan on top. She caught a glimpse of herself in the stainless steel overhead countertops and winced. The soft, drizzling rain wasn’t enough to soak her or anything, but it had played hell with her long, silvery blonde hair. The sleek braided bun she had put it in earlier was now a frizzed out mess and her cheeks were unnaturally red from practically running to the cafe in order to be there on time.

Penny hated being late to anything.

“You’re too soft on Lars,” Nicky told her, pushing half a toasted bagel loaded with cream cheese her way while eating the other half. “He needs to have some responsibility, especially if he’s couch surfing at your place.”

Penny chewed on her bagel. “You don’t understand, he’s my baby brother. It’s my job to look out for him. Besides,” she took a sip of her drink. “He was going out for a job interview. Hopefully this one takes.” She adored her youngest brother to pieces, and she understood that he was in a rough patch, but at the same time, she was quietly frustrated that he showed up at her doorstep without calling first, ate all her food without shopping for replacements, and left his dirty laundry on the bathroom floor. She was going to have to have a talk with him once they were home to set some boundaries down. If not, then she would happily call their eldest brother Andreas to see if he could help out before calling the big guns in and contacting their mother.

She hated to jump around in the family pecking order, but enough was enough.

“I can relate, seeing as I have a little sister, but I still say you’re being too soft on him. There’s a fine line between older sibling responsibility and being a doormat.”

“I know, and you’re right. Taking my car without my permission and making me late for work is definitely something I’m going to talk with him about.”

Nicky made a mmhm noise as if he didn’t quite believe her. “Don’t worry, Pen.” Nicky told her, changing the subject as he made his own cortado and leaned against the counter to sip on it. “You didn’t miss him.”

She was glad that her red cheeks could hide the sudden blush that she felt rush up from her throat to her face. “Miss who?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, donna forte!” He elbowed her in the side. “The Tall London Fog with the soft Scottish accent. The one who looks like a golden retriever if a golden retriever was over six feet tall and had dimples when he smiled.”

“Careful, you make me think you’re the one with the crush on him,” Penny muttered as she sipped on her drink.

“Please, I know I’m handsome and charming, but I’m not an asshole. I wouldn’t steal anyone from my dearest friend and co-worker.”

“You’re not stealing anyone from anybody,” she grumped.

“Maybe if you actually got off your ass and asked him out.”

“He’s a customer!”

“Like that’s ever stopped anyone that works here! I mean, have you seen what the Bravo shift is up to lately? There’s good money on when Adam’ll get the courage up to ask Miss Grande Half-Caff Nonfat Latte with Caramel Drizzle out before the end of the month.”

Penny rolled her eyes. “Adam? Admitting he has feelings for anyone? I give him a year, minimum.”

“Hello, Pot. I’d like to introduce you to Kettle.” He turned to wash out the things he’d used to make their drinks and kicked at her calf. “Speaking of not admitting feelings, here comes London Fog and Dirty Chai.”

Penny masked the sudden lurch in her pulse by twirling around and grabbing the loose leaf tea from an overhead shelf and measured enough into a French Press, adding a spice mix and a little bit of fresh ginger before pouring in hot water to steep. She grabbed the canister of lavender Earl Grey she knew he liked and did the same in a separate French Press while Nicky called out a greeting, confirming that they both wanted their usuals.

“Actually,” London Fog said, coming up to the counter. “Could I add something a little more substantial? Perhaps one of those sausage rolls and a slice of pumpkin loaf? I fear today is going to be a long one, seeing as it’s grading season.”

“Oh? You’re a teacher then?”

“He’s a professor,” Dirty Chai interjected, already setting up her laptop. She’d moved from their usual two-person table to a larger four-person one so the both of them could spread out. “Don’t let him get modest; he’s brilliant in his field.”

Penny looked over her shoulder as she brewed a double shot espresso to add to the chai. “Where do you lecture at?”

The soft question had him looking up at her with an equally soft smile before he quickly looked down, suddenly very interested in the counter’s bakery display. “Wayhaven University. I’m one of the Professors in the Folklore and Ethnomusicology department.”

Nicky took over building their order when another person came in and distracted Penny. “What a coincidence,” he all but purred. “Our dearest Penelope is studying on that campus!” He caught the sudden interest London Fog gave and leaned conspiratorially against the counter. “She’s going back for her master’s degree, if I remember correctly.”

“Oh? What study?”

“You know, for the life of me, I can’t recall. Sounds like an interesting question to ask her though, Professor…?” Nicky trailed off, realizing that neither he or Penny knew their regulars by name, only by order.

“Buchanan. Cameron.”

“Call him Cam,” Dirty Chai said, taking her order and sipping with a happy sigh. “I’m Winona.”

“Nice to finally meet you both. I’ll go warm up that sausage roll for you.” On his way to the back kitchen, Nicky nudged Penny with his shoulder, silently winking at her. She turned her face so Cam and Winona wouldn’t be able to see her expression and narrowed her eyes at her partner before going back to helping the short line of customers that had already started to form for the morning, shaking her head as the first heartfelt strings of Come Back to Sorrento could be heard coming out of the kitchen, Nicky’s smooth baritone making one of the ladies in line sigh dreamily.

Penny transitioned from building orders to taking payment while Nicky bustled in behind her on cleanup and prep duty, the two of them working well. Every so often, her eyes would stray to Cameron and Winona’s table, the two of them with their heads down and fingers clacking over their laptops. Two hours later, Cameron was looking at his watch and cursing under his breath while quickly packing his things away.

“Thanks for letting us stay so long,” he said, sticking money in the tip jar.

“It was nothing,” she told him, fiercely hoping he didn’t catch the way the tips of her ears were a bright pink. “I’m glad you could stay with me - us long enough to get some grading done.”

He smiled and she couldn’t help but mirror the same smile back. “I’d have loved to spend more time, but my office hours are going to be starting soon and I usually have a few students wanting to talk around this time of the year.”

“We’re always here in the mornings!” Oh, smooth one, Fisher, she thought, mentally kicking herself for forgetting how to talk to people when the person in question was one she had a silly crush on. Don’t flirt with customers, it’s just an awkward experience for everyone involved!

Cameron nodded. “And stopping by is always a great start to my day. Your partner mentioned you were studying at the university?”

“I am.”

Cameron shouldered his laptop bag and smiled again. “Maybe we’ll run into the other on campus then.”

“I’d like that.”

“I would too.” He blinked, as if he had been reluctant to break eye contact. “Well, I’d better get going, or else I’m going to miss some student appointments. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early!” Or so she hoped. She really was going to have to speak with Lars about him getting his own transportation. Penny sighed as the bell over the door chimed and tried - and failed - to not watch as Cameron walked down the street.

“He’s not that old.”

Penny jumped at the sudden appearance of Winona at the counter. “Pardon?”

“Cam. He’s not that old, just in case you were worried he was some stuffy professor with a really good skin regimen.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “I wasn’t…” Penny nervously tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. “I mean, I didn’t want to presume…”

“Like I said, Cam’s brilliant in his field and made career moves way before the usual timeline. I’m guessing he’s around your age.” She put more money in the tip jar. “You know, if that was a deal-breaker for you.” Before Penny could say anything in response, Winona waved and left.

Penny ran a hand down her face before frowning. There was something other than money in the tip jar. Curiosity getting the best of her, she fished it out, finding it was a business card with all of Cameron’s information on it.

FYI, a woman’s loopy handwriting in bright red ink read at the bottom, your partner wrote down your phone number on a napkin when he gave Cam his order. Thought I should even the playing field and give you his too.

Penny’s eyes widened as she flipped the card over. And BTW, he thinks you’re cute too.

“Whatcha got?” Penny all but jumped out of her skin at the sound of Nicky’s voice unexpectedly at her ear as he tried to look at the card in her hands.

“Nothing!” she yelped, clutching it close to her chest before sticking it into her apron’s pocket. Turning around, she grabbed Nicky by the ear. “And what are you doing, giving strange men my phone number!”

Nicky winced, leaning down as he tried to wiggle away from her grasp. “He’s not strange, Pen! He’s a regular! Practically family! Ow, fuck!”

She let his ear go. “You could have asked me if it was okay first!”

Nicky rubbed at his ear and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and at the glacier pace that either of you were moving, you may have gone out for drinks when you were both eighty.”

She washed her hands at the prep sink and started making sure that everything they’d used was washed and ready for a new order. Lunchtime was a sort of quiet lull, they got a few regular orders in, but it wasn’t anywhere near the morning rush. She checked the schedule. The Alpha shift was coming in for the afternoon to evening times, which meant that she needed to come in a little earlier tomorrow morning to make sure that things had been properly cleaned and organized and that the morning breakfast items were fully stocked. She loved them to pieces, but Tane and Maaka weren’t the most organized of duos. She made a mental note to check the to-go cups as well: Tane had a habit of using a marker to black out the Warning, your contents are extremely hot and make it read Warning, you are extremely hot instead.

The good thing is that on dead nights, the brothers would come up with some interesting off the menu recipes and leave notes for her and Nicky to try in the morning. Maaka was more organized than his brother and the notes were always fun to read, especially when he added his own commentary.

“You never know,” she told Nicky, the business card in her pocket weighing far heavier than it ought to. “I just may surprise you.”

Cha cha cha d'amour

Take this song to my lover

Shoo shoo little bird

Go and find my love

#31daysofwayhaven #Unit Charlie #fell into a hole today regarding my writing #AU #when coffeeshop au meets college au

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starshinewriter · 4 years

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Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Donald Duck & Scrooge McDuck, Dewey Duck & Donald Duck & Huey Duck & Scrooge McDuck, Donald Duck & Louie Duck & Scrooge McDuck Characters: Donald Duck, Scrooge McDuck, Huey Duck, Dewey Duck, Louie Duck Additional Tags: Hatching, best title anyone could ever come up with i know, Parent Scrooge McDuck, Parent Donald Duck, theyre so excited to see the boys hatch, babie hdl are so pure, 1 curse word Series: Part 2 of A Bigger, Different Family Dynamic Summary:

Huey, Dewey and Louie hatch.

Chapter Title: April 23, 2007

Chapter Summary: Huey and Dewey hatch, and also have their names changed. But not necessarily in that order.

Alternative to ao3:

Jet and Turbo were set to hatch any day now, which was why Donald has been spending so much time at the mansion. As well as his own egg, that he absolutely refused to let out of his sight. It has been... something being back there so much but he knew it was good for him, even if it really really hurt at times. He couldn't avoid it forever, especially if his nephews were going to be raised there. And he didn't want to, it wasn't like him to avoid things- he preferred head-on confrontation. Especially when it came to his family.

And in this case it was good, it got him back in contact with his Uncle, and his cousins -who unfortunately couldn't be around for the hatchings-, it kept his family together. Even if one of them wasn't there anymore. They'd survived losses before and they'd survive them now, but damnit if it wouldn't be the hardest lost he'd ever have to face. But he couldn't think about that now, this was an exciting occasion. His nephews were about to hatch! His excitement would only ever be topped by one other event, which was set to happen any week now. This was a good point in his life. Even if it didn't always feel like it.

"Donald, ae've been thinkin'," Scrooge said, jostling him out of his thoughts. "What if we... renamed Jet and Turbo?" He hesitantly asked. Which Donald got, renaming them was like taking a part of Della away. But...

"So you've been thinking about it too." He sighed and his Uncle looked at him. "I've been debating it for a while, I'm just not sure if I can call them that, it would hurt too much."

"Exactly." The room fell silent.

"What would we name them then?" He asked after a few minutes. "Any ideas?"

Scrooge hummed, "What aboot somethin' Scottish?"

"Like what, Scrooge Jr. and Scrooge the 3rd?" He asked teasingly, his Uncle swat him playfully which made him laugh. This was nice. He wasn't sure they'd ever be able to get back to this point again. It seemed that reaching out so soon helped with that.

"No you, nonsensical numbskull! Something to honor our heritage."

"My heritage is only half Scottish, I'm also a Coot in case you forgot. How about this, we find a baby book and keep searching until we find names we like." Scrooge had to admit, that was a good idea. But where could they find one? The answer was the library apparently, he wasn't sure why he had one but he wasn't gonna complain now. The two of them sat down and got to work, making sure to keep an eye on the eggs as they did so. Donald's cautiousness was starting to rub off on him but now that the twins' eggs had been in his life for so long he could see the reasoning. It definitely wasn't easy to be a single parent, he'd give his nephew that.

Granted, he had practically raised him and his sister but he had gotten them when they were almost eight years old. Doing it from scratch was something else entirely, and he was just starting to figure that out. They could work on it together. That was something that really gave him hope.

They combed through the book, looking at each name carefully but not coming upon on that interested them- that is, until they hit the D's. "What aboot Dewford fer ane o' them?" Scrooge suggested and his nephew tested it out as he looked for its meaning and found none. But discovered something else, "We could shorten it ta Dewey, which is Welsh for beloved, sounds like a good fit ta me."

Donald smiled at him, "A great fit." They continued looking for a while until this time Donald found the name. "What if we named the other one Hubert? It's German for a bright heart."

"Hubert and Dewey, something doesn't fit there."

His nephew gave him a look, "Don't do it." He said warningly. "Don't be that guy, Uncle Scrooge."

Scrooge looked at him innocently, "What? I dinnae know what yer talkin' about. All that ae'm sayin' is the two names dinnae go together very well."

"Good." Donald said pointedly. "Della and I hated being a twin stereotype, don't make them another."

"Fine. Hubert and Dewey it is then."

_______________________________________________________________

It was a good thing they decided on those names that day cause not a few hours later the first egg began to crack. By that point their whole party had moved to the room they had previously set up as the nursery, which were good instincts on their part. Moving hatching eggs was never a good idea and the first place they see should really be where they're going to spend most of their time.

But back to the egg, as soon as the first crack sounded Scrooge and Donald's eyes were glued to it. It was cracking at a good pace, wiggling around a moderate amount, nothing to be anxious about. Yet they both were. Both were overwrought at the thought of something going wrong, of something being wrong. These eggs were all they had left of Della, they had to be fine. Luckily for them they had nothing to be worried about- for Hubert at least. He came out perfectly fine, if a bit curious as to what was going on.

Scrooge gently grabbed him from out of his egg and cleaned him off, wrapping a red blanket around him once he was done. "Hubert." He announced. But the two of them didn't have time to be excited about him hatching, his brother wasn't far behind.

Not five seconds after Hubert had finished Dewey had begun, and much faster. He busted out of his egg at a rapid speed and Donald had to quickly grab him before he could hurt himself. He wriggled around in Donald's hands, excited to experience everything around him and it made Donald smile as he wiped him clean. "Dewey." He said softly and he swore the duckling smiled at him. He felt like crying, and he knew by looking at his Uncle that he felt the same. They were here. They were finally here.

"Welcome ta the world, wee anes."

The two of them got close together and let the ducklings explore each other, which they eagerly did. Scrooge and Donald tiredly grinned at one another and Scrooge wrapped his free arm around his nephew. His youngest nephews were now cuddled up with each other making him awe internally and coo at them. They let out little noises and his grin grew wider. They had just been born and he already loved them like crazy. And that was the moment he swore he would never let anything happen to them, that he would protect them like he couldn't protect Della.

He then noticed his oldest nephew looking at him fondly and became confused, "What?"

He smiled, "You're a natural." Scrooge smiled back and they turned back to the twins. They were watching the two of them curiously and Scrooge waved his finger in front of their faces. Their eyes glued in on it as best as they could and Dewey tried to grab it, he let him and instantly felt something he couldn't name. These two ducklings were the most precious things in the entire world, no amount of money or treasure would ever mean as much to him. No adventure would ever be more important. From now one, his life completely revolved around them. That was what being a parent meant, and he was their parent now.

"Oh god." Donald suddenly realized. "I'm gonna have one of these."

Scrooge nodded, "In a few weeks, yes."

Donald turned to him frightened, "I'm not ready! I can't even take care of myself! Oh god, I'm gonna mess this up!" He moved away from his uncle and nephews and started pacing. Scrooge carefully placed the twins in their crib then went to tend to his other nephew.

He put a hand on his arm and guided him into a chair. "Uncle Scrooge, what am I gonna do? I can't be a Dad, I don't know how."

"Hah!" Scrooge barked out but then quickly lowered his voice. "Yew, Donald Duck, dinnae know how ta be a Dad? Lad, if ae know yew ae know yew looked up every possible book on parentin' the moment yew found oot. Ye picked oot all the stuff needed ta care fer the twins, ae would've been lost in that store withoot yew. Yew've probably even babyproofed the whole houseboat by now! Yer gonna be just fine, nephew, and so is Llewelyn. Have some faith in yerself." That was easier said than done. He was Donald Duck, he messed things up, and his kid deserved better than that. Deserved better than him. But he was Donald Duck, he was gonna do everything he could to give him the best life possible. He didn't have anyone better than Donald so Donald was gonna have to be the best. And there already wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his child.

Have faith in himself, he could do that.

One of the twins suddenly started crying and he was out of his seat and to the crib before his Uncle could even take a step. He delicately grabbed Dewey, and then Hubert before he could get too fussy and started rocking both of them. "And ye say ae'm a natural."

Donald shrugged, "Just instincts."

His Uncle gawked at him, "With instincts like that ye could be the best Dad in the world." He attempted to brush the praise off, before realizing that he probably deserved it. Even before she left Donald had been the more parental twin. She had been most excited to take the twins on adventures and give them things like the stars, he knew they needed more than that, needed a parent. Someone to change their diapers and teach them how to walk and talk, someone to kiss their boo-boos and help them with their homework, someone who knew what it meant to be a parent. And even if he couldn't be that for them, he trusted Scrooge could be and that he could be there to help in any way possible.

And those instincts were tenfold when it came to his own kid, he had a feeling the two of them were gonna be just fine after all.

#ducktales 2017 #a bigger different family dynamic

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wolfpawn · 4 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 58

Chapter Summary - After returning from their walk, Danielle and Tom end up minding his niece for a while and after that, they go to have dinner again in Diana's, where it is revealed that due to the summer, Tom has not spoken to his father since then, something Danielle thinks to rectify.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

After the walk in the woods, and a small towel dry for Mac, Danielle and Tom contemplated sitting down for a quiet read, but their idea was quickly shattered when Sarah arrived with her daughter. “Half an hour, I beg you.” she pleaded. Tom looked at his sister in concern. “My head is spinning, I have literally watched four movies in a row, I need half an hour.”

“Give us one and a half, she’ll be fed and all.” Danielle smiled. Sarah did not even bother asking if she was sure, she turned and fled. “I guess that answers what our afternoon includes.” She commented to Tom.

“Prepares us for the weekend we have you I suppose.” Tom grinned at his niece. “Have you had lunch?”

“Nope.”

“Well then, how about some of Ellie’s homemade soup and brown bread?” Tom ushered her into the kitchen. Danielle smiled as she walked in after them, Tom getting some of the soup Danielle had made them after their walk and the bread she had baked before getting injured on Christmas Eve. Tom saw her looking at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” She smiled. “Just nice seeing you make yourself at home here.”

“Well, just remember to do the same in London.”

“I might just.” She winked, going over to the kettle to make herself some tea. “Do you want one?”

“Please.” Tom was about to put his arms around her when she moved slightly to avoid it and indicated to the six-year-old who was currently eating at the table. “Sorry.”

“Have to remember to behave in front of children.” She chastised. “So, what movie will we watch when you are finished your lunch?” She asked said child as she placed a glass of apple juice next to her.

“Cinderella.”

“The film or the cartoon one?” Danielle offered.

“Film.”

“There’s a film of it now?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, Kenneth Branagh is the director, it’s brilliant, so colourful,” Danielle informed him.

“Ken loves using colour.” Tom nodded. “Sounds good.”

When Sarah returned almost two hours later, she was shocked to see Tom and Danielle playing hide and seek with her daughter. “You two are worse than her.” She chuckled to her brother.

Tom came over to her and put his arm around her, “Feel better?”

“Too much wine yesterday, tired and over my fill of movies, thank you both so much.”

“We are happy to have her.”

“She loves you both, she has not stopped going on about wanting you to marry Elle.”

“I know, I was informed yesterday on our walk that she is to be the flower girl, no arguments.”

“No pressure.” Sarah laughed.

“No, none. So what time is dinner?”

Sarah groaned. “No one is in the mood for turkey, not even mum.”

“I know, the idea of it is not too appealing.” Tom agreed. “Though…” He walked out to the end of the stairs. “Truce,” he shouted up. A moment later, two smiling faces poked around the top of the stairs at him. “Why is your hair tossed?” He asked almost worriedly.

“We…”

“Shh,” Danielle put her hand over the girl’s mouth for a moment. “We can’t let him know where I hid you.” She giggled. “What do you want? Surrender?”

“Not a chance.”

“Then why call us?” She asked.

“You cooked a lasagne on Christmas Eve, right?”

“I did.”

“Is there enough for everyone?”

Danielle took a moment to think. “There are fourteen portions, so I think it’s safe to say yes.”

“Why did you cook that much food?” Tom frowned.

“It’s easier to cook a lot and freeze, so I did.” Danielle shrugged.

“Can we use it for dinner, no one is really in the mood for Turkey?”

“Actually, that sounds really good.” Danielle came down the stairs, Tom’s niece in tow, she turned to look at her. “What do you think?”

“I want Garlic bread with it.”

Tom grinned, “That sounds like a great idea. But I am not sure there is any.”

“I have store-bought in the freezer too.” Danielle smiled.

“I love you.” Tom declared.

“You two are nauseating.” Sarah laughed.

“All men declare their undying love to the one that feeds them, why do you think they all love their mammies!” Danielle laughed, going to the kitchen to get the food. “How are you now?” She asked as she opened the freezer.

“Better, thank you, I had a cup of tea and a power nap. I think everyone was a little drained.”

“Well, you know where I am.” Danielle offered.

“Aunty Ellie?” Danielle turned around. “Why do you say mammy and not mummy or mommy?”

“Because I come from Ireland, and in Ireland, we say mammy.”

“Uncle Jack is from Ireland too and he doesn’t sound anything like you.”

“Uncle Jack comes from up at the tippy top of Ireland, so his accent is different, like your granddad comes from Scotland, so he has a different accent to your nan.”She explained.

“Okay.” With her curiosity sated, she walked off again.

“You didn’t correct her.” Sarah grinned.

“What?”

“When she called you ‘Aunty Ellie’ you never corrected her.”

“I didn’t even notice.” Danielle shrugged.

“Well, it suits you.” Sarah grinned. Danielle stared at her worriedly. “What do you need me to bring over?” Rolling her eyes, Danielle pointed to the food they would need.

“Okay, that was more delicious than I thought.” Jack conceded as he finished another portion of lasagne. “How are you not the size of a house?”

“Self-control.” Danielle laughed. “How are you not sick?” Jack shrugged.

“And it was not beef?” Jakov looked at the food in front of him.

Danielle shook her head. “Lamb, less chewy.”

“That is actually delicious,” Sarah declared. “I am stealing some.”

“Or I could just give you some.” Danielle laughed.

“That too,” Sarah conceded.

Diana smiled as she looked around the table, “Are any of you going to see your father soon?”

“Jack and I are going after New Years, on our way back from Jack’s parents,” Emma stated.

“We went a couple weeks ago, I will see when I can get up again,” Sarah informed her.

Everyone turned to Tom. “I...I haven’t spoken to him in a while…” There were a few moments of silence.

“Since the summer?” Danielle ventured, seeing no one else was going to ask, though everyone seemed to be thinking it. Tom nodded. “Have you spoken since?” He shook his head. “Well, do something about it.”

“How?”

“You get off your ass and you go to Scotland, obviously.”

“He…”

“Will give you a clip across the ear and then you apologise for embarrassing yourself, your family, your forefathers, your descendants, your pets, neighbours and even your preschool teacher and you get on with life.” Tom gave her a disbelieving look while the others laughed.

“What wiring is wrong in your head to say you say the stuff you do?” Jack shook his head.

“You’re just jealous you are a boring Tyrone shite that only wishes he was as brutally honest as me.” she retorted.

“Language.” Diana admonished.

“He started it.”

“You are the biggest child to ever exist, are you sure you don’t have any siblings?” Emma laughed.

“Nope just learnt all this from your crazy butts.” Danielle looked to Diana, who nodded her approval of Danielle toning down her language. “Why don’t we see if he is free over New Years, I know you wanted to go to see a few of your friends, but I think it would mean more to him if you made the effort to go up and show him you are not as mental as everyone thinks you are.” Tom gave her an unsure look, which Danielle chose to ignore.

“Can I just absorb some of your ability to just say what I am thinking?” Emma asked.

“I can be honest or I can not hurt your feelings, not both, most of the time.” She grinned. “So, get off your ass and ring him.”

“He…”

Danielle shook her head, “Emma, give me your phone,” Emma gave it to her and Danielle typed in the code and the screen unlocked. “Dad or James?”

“Dad.”

“Got it.”

“Elle,” Tom warned.

Danielle ignored him and continued. “Got you,” She pressed the dial button and put the phone to her ear. When a Scottish accent answered she smiled. “Hello, Dr Hiddleston, this is Danielle, I was a bridesmaid at Emma’s wedding.”

“I recall, what can I do for you?”

“I am ringing because Tom is under the impression you are not willing to speak to him, I wish to know if this is true or is he just being dramatic?”

“Is that little tart gone?”

“You mean the American singer?”

“That one.”

“Yep.”

“Is he there?”

“Right next to me, Dr Hiddleston.”

“Put him on, and for Christ’s sake girl, I told you enough times that day, it is James.”

“Sure thing Dr Hiddleston. I hope you had a lovely Christmas, take care and here is your idiot son.” She held the phone out to Tom, who was glaring at her.

Anxiously, Tom took the phone and rose to his feet. “Hello, dad.” He walked from the room talking.

“There, done.”

“Carpe Diam?” Diana smiled.

“More like ‘Carpe Scrotum’.” Danielle laughed as she took a drink of her water to the sounds of laughter around her.

“Thank you, I think.” Danielle turned to see Tom behind her.

Danielle faced him properly. “For the record, I would never have forced you to talk to your dad if you didn’t look like it was the one thing you wanted more than anything else in the world, that would not have been fair.” She stated. “I completely understand if you are annoyed with me and want to stay over here tonight. I just don’t want to see you not talk to your dad about something that is over, he is not exactly young. My dad always said to me, that no matter how bad we argue, never leave it longer than a day to say sorry, time doesn’t wait for you to.”

Tom looked at her for a moment. “I was pissed off you did it, but I am glad you did. We spoke for a few minutes, he just didn’t want me ruining everything I have worked so hard for. He mentioned you too.”

“Well, I was the one that called him.”

“He asked why I couldn’t ever see you as a suitable woman, you are, and I quote ‘copped on, intelligent and well able to give me a clip cross the ear’ he impersonated his father’s Scottish accent as he did so.”

“He forgot funny, charismatic and generally awesome,” Danielle laughed. “What did you say to that?”

“I told him I did, and that I convinced you to come to London to me for a few months.”

“Well, there’s his idea that I am copped on and intelligent gone out the window.” She stated solemnly before giggling.

Tom pulled her to him and kissed her as he chuckled too. “He said about fucking time, and that should I find my way to Scotland anytime soon, I am to bring you.”

“Woohoo, very nice. Got both parents on side, I am rocking at this girlfriend thing.” She smiled.

“I think you may have it down indeed Ms Hughes.” He agreed. “By the way,” She looked up at him. “He said to stop calling him Dr Hiddleston.”

“I can’t, it annoys him too much.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #I Hate You I Love You #chapter 58

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otheroutlandertales · 6 years

Photo

The second part of the Ian and Rachel Modern AU!

Chapter 1

Wine and Whisky - Chapter 2

by @whiskynottea

“This seems like a lot of water to drink for someone who went to a bar just for an interview.” Denny eyed the bottle in Rachel’s hand and took a bite of his french toast.

“I don’t remember asking you to check on my water consumption, Denzell, but thank you anyway.” Too many words. She’d try to be more laconic next time.

This headache was killing her.

“I was just observing that you’ve drank almost a liter of water in the last thirty minutes. How did the interview go?” Denny looked at her, serious for a moment, before he chuckled to himself. “I hope you didn’t get salty with the poor guy just because he made the mistake to have his business in Edinburgh.”

“I’m not salty,” Rachel stated, sinking deeper into the soft sofa. She could still feel the new fabric straining, not used to holding people just yet. It had been less than a week since Denny brought it home. She had been mad at him for not consulting her first, but he insisted that it was half price and he had to hurry.

“Yeah, sure, you’re not,” her brother’s voice brought her out of her reverie. “You’re the sunshine Scotland’s missed all the past years.”

Rachel heard his ironic smile between the words, and all she could come up with as a response was to toss a throw-pillow at his head. If only she had the strength. That was why people call it a throw-pillow, right?

“You didn’t answer my question,” Denny insisted. “You did go to the interview, right? The whisky distillery?”

“Mmm.” Even humming made her headache worse. “Went… good.”

Did it, though?

Her gaze traveled from the glass of water to her phone, silent, on the coffee table.

She had only dreamed it. He’d never asked for her number. He hadn’t texted her, hadn’t asked if she’d arrived home safe.

“What’s wrong with me?” she murmured, reaching for the acetaminophen next to the offending device.

She had dreamed of Ian. If she had drunk wine, instead of whisky, she would have never dreamt of a guy she’d talked to for less than twenty minutes. She knew wine and it knew her, too. It didn’t play dangerous games with her. But no, she’d had a lot of whisky, instead. A treacherous spirit, that one.

“You’re bored, that’s what’s wrong with you,” she heard her brother again from the doorway as he put his light jacket on, almost ready to go. “I assume you’re drinking for science? Comparing the Californian wine to the Scottish one?”

“There is no Scottish wine. And you’re still here. Aren’t you late for work already?” She asked, rolling her eyes. Her intolerable brother.

“I love you, too, sis,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“I love you, too, ass,” Rachel murmured and leaned her head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Finally, alone.

She was extremely thirsty, Denny had been right about that. Last night she had lost count of her drinks after the third one. William was kind and eager to show her everything, and she’d assumed this was a good thing. His smile was warm and his voice carried softly in the bar’s air, filled with thick Scottish accents.

Now, sober in her apartment, she realized how unprofessional it was to stay and drink with him after the interview. He had somehow convinced her at the beginning that it was a part of the procedure.

Meet the Frasers, meet their whisky.

At the beginning, she was extremely careful when he arrived with the first drinks. She took her time analyzing them. But the more she drank, the less attention she paid to Willie. Her gaze kept traveling back to the bar, to Ian, with the rebel looks and the gentle eyes.

Ian, who hadn’t asked for her number.

And why would he?

Rachel ran her hands over her face and stood up. She walked across the living room to the simple white desk - two weeks in their new house now - and turned her laptop on. Not that she’d have a follow up email already - it was too early.

If there would be an email after all. William had said they would call her.

Would they?

Before checking on her cover letter for two other applications she’d prepared together with the Fraser Distillery position, Rachel walked to the kitchen, chose the biggest mug available and poured coffee, filling it to the rim.

Three cups of coffee later, the first application was sent. To the Scottish Salmon Company.

Who would have imagined that. Smelling fish all day long. Not that she hated fish, but having them around her every day... that was far from ideal - half a planet away far.

Rachel closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Priorities. First of all, find a job.

She missed the vineyards. She wanted to check her Facebook timeline for new pictures from the colleagues - ex-colleagues - when she noticed the email notification. Gulping, she pressed her thumb on her phone’s screen, a bit more forcefully than usual.

Dear Ms Hunter,

She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. The next lines held an answer, patiently waiting for her to read. Expectations rose inside her, battling with doubts and her eyes ran to the words in their own volition.

Thank you for taking the time to talk to us about the assistant distiller position. We enjoyed getting to know you, and we’d like to invite you for a second interview at our corporate office.

Your interview will be with Mr James Fraser, distillery manager and owner of the Lallybroch distillery, and will last approximately forty-five minutes.

Would you be available on Tuesday, at 11am? Please let me know if another date or time would work best for you.

Looking forward to meeting you again,

Kind regards,

Glenna FitzGibbons

Rachel read and re-read the email. She had a second interview. With James Fraser - the owner.

Maybe William did like her after all.

With a bouncing leg and a smiling lip caught between her teeth, she replied.

Rachel looked at herself in the mirror one last time before leaving the elevator. Light blue shirt, black pants, black pumps. She took a deep breath. Checked her mascara. Took another breath. The doors opened and she walked mechanically to the hallway, standing in front of Fraser’s office one moment too long.

“Can’t stay in here forever…” she mumbled, a firm hand pushing the door.

“Good morning,” she said to the lady sitting behind the desk at the reception.

“Good morning, dear,” the lady returned with a smile, glasses low on her nose. “How can I help you?”

“My name is Rachel Hunter.” Her heart beat loudly in her chest. “I’m here to meet Mr James Fraser, for the position -”

“Yes, yes, of course,” the lady interrupted her before she had time to finish. “We’ve been waiting for ye. I’m Glenna, Glenna FitzGibbons.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms FitzGibbons.” Rachel’s hand was gripping the handles of her bag as if holding on for dear life and it took her a moment to open her palm to shake the lady’s extended hand.

“Mr Fraser will see ye in a minute,” she said, and disappeared down the hallway behind her.

Rachel stood in place, her eyes wandering around, taking in the reception area. It was simple, with pictures adorning the white walls. Pictures of people with huge smiles. Every picture was hung in a similar dark frame, a date handwritten on each on of them. Rachel moved closer, curious to discover the stories they had to tell.

A black and white picture with people sitting on whisky casks, dated 1961.

A man with dark hair, holding a bottle of whisky, dated 1968.

A woman wearing high waist bell bottom jeans standing in a warehouse and smiling to the camera, with three children making faces next to her, dated 1974.

Two teens, a redheaded boy sitting on a cask and a black haired girl leaning on him with hands crossed in front of her chest, dated 1980.

The teens of the previous picture, older now, with a curly haired woman and -

“Ms Hunter?”

Rachel jerked at the voice, abruptly turning to see Mrs FitzGibbons smiling at her. She had gotten lost in the pictures, in the story of this family that lived next to malt, changing with the years, like the whisky in the casks.

“Right this way, lass.”

Forty-five minutes; it was written in the email.

When Rachel left Fraser’s office, a glance at the large clock at the end of the hall revealed she'd been in there over an hour. It felt like it had been less than twenty minutes. He was impressive, with an imposing stature and clever blue eyes but he didn’t make her feel uneasy. He reminded her of William, somehow, but there was something different between the two men, something she couldn’t point at, but felt it was there.

Their conversation had a flow that made her feel like it wasn’t an interview. He asked about her studies and her experience with wine. His questions held an interest that rang true. He didn’t ask her the same old boring questions about herself and her advantages, about her free time and hobbies. Instead, he asked her why she had chosen them, why whisky.

“When I was working on wine, I thought I could never find anything more complex, more intriguing. But I can now say that I was wrong,” she said and meant it. “Whisky is another world for me, Mr Fraser, and I’m eager to get lost in it and discover its secrets.”

He seemed pleased with her answer, a soft smiling curving up one corner of his lip.

William and Ian did that too.

He talked to her then, about whisky. His second greatest love, he called it. “My father started the distillery, and now it’s my sister and myself who run it. Scots drink a lot of whisky, Ms Hunter, as you will soon find out.”

So William hadn’t told him that she’d already found out just how much. “I’ve had some of your whisky, to be honest. William was kind enough to go through a tasting with me.”

Jamie Fraser raised his eyebrows for mere seconds before schooling his face again. “And what did ye think of our products, then?”

“I loved how each of them was special. Different. I could tell if it was the same series with increased maturation or a different whisky all together,” Rachel said with a smile. “That was what made me fall in love with wine - how even the year could make such a difference, each harvest offering something new to us to work with.”

Jamie Fraser smiled contently at that, and Rachel took a breath, feeling sure of herself. She hadn’t lied or said anything exaggerated. Tasting the vintages with William had made something inside her click, a missing piece that fit perfectly in the emptiness she’d felt since she left California. The butterscotch aroma she tried to bring to her Chardonnay using toasted oak barrels. The almond notes she’d found in that Valpolicella Classico Superiore of 1998, but more intense, filling her senses. There was something in whisky, something she’d always pursued in wine. A strength, a declaration of passion.

Jamie Fraser went on to tell her about the business expansion and her duties as an assistant manager. “My son, William, does the same in our first distillery, at Lallybroch. That was where everything started.”

His proud smile turned to a wistful one. Personal reasons, he said, made him pursue the expansion in Edinburgh. There would be different whiskies produced at each location, and while he would stay in Edinburgh, training her himself, William would return to Lallybroch to operate the distillery there, with his sister’s family.

Rachel felt engrossed in Jamie Fraser’s world, in his dreams and aspirations. He had a way with words, rolling them in his thick accent, transforming ideas into vivid images. A born storyteller, he could have easily become a writer in a parallel universe. He gave the words colors and scents - sweet and buttery, woody and gingery - as if he was making his whisky just in front of her.

Rachel listened to the details about the new distillery as if it was the only thing that mattered to her. And somehow it was. She had found her purpose.

Fraser’s shake was firm and warm before he bid her au revoir.

Au revoir - that was a good thing. Rachel left his office with her heart calm and a soft smile on her face.

She was walking towards the elevator, Mrs FitzGibbons’ wishes to have a wonderful day still hanging in the air, when she saw its door opening.

William entered, wearing a grey T-shirt and jeans - much more casually dressed than when she last saw him at the interview. He was murmuring the words of the song he was listening to, but removed the earplugs the moment he saw her.

“Rachel.” He smiled at her, bending in a way, reminding her of a bow.

“Hello, William.” Rachel’s smile turned to a grin when she noticed the empty bottle of whisky in his hand.

William’s eyes followed her gaze and he shrugged, rolling his eyes. “It was empty! My father asked for it, to check some marketing details!”

“Are you sure?” Rachel teased him. “You seemed to finish up some of these at the bar…”

“Not alone,” he winked at her. “You didn’t pass by the bar again. We had live music last night, and we stayed till late. There is another performance on Friday, if you’d like to...”

“That sounds fun!” She interrupted him before he could go on, suddenly afraid of what he’d say. She paused for a moment, before adding in a more serious voice, “Thank you for the referral to Mr Fraser, William.”

“You’re welcome. Talk to you soon?”

“Well, I hope so!”

She entered the elevator, staring at the mirror until she hit the ground floor, unable to stop the grin from spreading over her face.

She might have gotten the job.

Leaving the building, Rachel walked towards the old city, ignoring the drizzle falling from the grey sky. It was still early, and the day was warm. She would walk around, buy herself a coffee and then something to eat.

A man with a tattoo passed by her when she crossed the North Bridge, making her heart stop.

It wasn’t him.

But if she got the job, she would see Ian again.

Continue to Chapter 3.

#outlander fanfiction #otheroutlandertales #mod whisky #pair: Young Ian x Rachel #ch: Rachel #ch: Young Ian #ch: Jamie #ch: Denny #ch: Mrs Fitz #ch: William #modern AU #catergory: mf #Wine and Whisky #oot #*

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thebroadstreetdarling · 6 years

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I was tagged by @thegreatwhiteferret - thanks lovely!

87 Random Questions

1. Where do you live? Canada.

2. One cool item you own? An old typewriter given to me by my uncle.

3. Moon or stars? The stars.

4. Places you’d like to travel to? The Mediterranean or Vienna.

5. Favorite song? Must be dreaming by Frou Frou.

6. Do you have any fears? I am afraid of fucking dragonflies...ugh.

7. Do you feel different than you did last year? Oh definitely.

8. What is your race? I am

Metis-Cree Nation. So basically, Metis is a combination of Cree and French/Scottish people.

9. Pet peeves? Finding hair in food, I fucking cry every time.

10. Any siblings? I am the oldest of five siblings, so there’s me and my younger sister plus three younger brothers.

11. Are you a gamer? No, video games make me dizzy.

12. Sexual orientation? Bi-sexual.

13. Does a broken mirror mean bad luck? Nah.

14. What do you feel is your mental age? I feel older sometimes, always have.

15. How old were you when you started dating? 14, yeah it was gross.

16. Where do you do most of your online shopping? I don’t really shop online tbh.

17. Favorite animal? Foxes.

18. What’s one film from the 2000s that you like? Moulin Rouge! Is my absolute favourite film.

19. What’s your favorite scary movie? The Conjuring! I loved it, it was impressively thrilling.

20. Fun fact about yourself? I like eating burnt food, sometimes I burn some of my food on purpose because I like the charred taste.

21. Shoe size? 7.

22. Which fictional character(s) do you relate to the most? Suga from Haikyuu!! We’re literally the same person, it’s so weird.

23. Where do you see yourself living in ten years? Somewhere warm, probably Vancouver.

24. Ever wore clothes that were just wayyy too tight? No, I perfer comfort over everything else.

25. What’s on your mind? I hope my face clears up soon (Had an allergic reaction to shampoo).

26. Are you religious? In a way, kinda more of a traditional sense as far as my Indigenous background goes.

27. How tall are you? 5’6.

28. Favorite band? 65daysofstatic

29. Do you remember 2009? Yeah, I just graduated high school and got really sick that year, some days I was sleeping 15/16 hours because I got really sick and had no energy.

30. Cats or dogs? I’m allergic to both so I don’t care either way.

31. Fruit or vegetables? Fruits.

32. Do you want to get married? Nope!

33. Do you want children? No, but I wouldn’t mind adopting or fostering kids.

34. Flamingos or peacocks? Flamingos! They’re so much nicer.

35. What superpower do you wish you had? I wish I could fly, or have super strength.

36. Are you a germ freak? Yes. I have wipes to wipe down all surfaces all the time, and I organize every day.

37. Did swearing baby, ghost car, or ghost caught on tape scare you as a kid? No.

38. Do you prefer sweet or salty? Sweet.

39. Tea or coffee? Tea, I think of coffee as more of a treat to have every now and then.

40. Are you superstitious? In a way. I knock on wood three times if I say something that might jinx me.

41. Do you like stripes? Such a look.

42. Favorite shows as a kid? Digimon! And Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

43. Favorite shows growing up? Digimon and Fullmetal Alchemist

44. Favorite musical? Moulin Rouge!

45. Favorite movie? Moulin Rouge!

46. Birthday? October 31st. I’m a Halloween babe.

47. Are you a grammar Nazi? No, and that’s an awful term.

48. Ever gotten drunk? I’ve never been drunk in my life, true fact.

49. Do you have a carrier bag? I do! So much easier to carry stuff around.

50. What would you do if you were the opposite gender for a day? Probably nothing.

51. If you were the opposite gender what would you change your name to? Jude or Julian.

52. What song is stuck in your head? Seventeen for the Heathers Musical.

53. Celebrity crush? Don’t really have one tbh.

54. If you could live in a non-English speaking country, where would it be? Czech Republic, I’d go live in Prague, or Italy.

55. Are you a good dancer? I’m a great dancer! Many styles too!

56. Have any allergies? I have 15 different allergies, most of them food.

57. Any bad habits? I rub my eyes too much when I get nervous.

58. Ever broke a bone? I’ve never had the pleasure.

59. Are you a city or country person? City, I hate being in the country.

60. Do you like your home country? I give Canada a lot of shit, but honesty it’s not a bad place.

61. Sunflowers or daisies? Sunflowers.

62. Tulips or roses? Roses, champagne coloured ones are my favourite.

63. Oak or maple? Oak.

64. Disney or Nickelodeon? Disney.

65. WYR be obese or anorexic? This is an awful question what the fuck?

66. WYR be over 6 feet or under 5 feet? Oh! Over 6 feet for sure, and I would wear three inch heels and just dominate every where I go.

67. Rubies or sapphires? Sapphires.

68. Are you stubborn? Nah.

69. Have you been in scouts/Girl Scouts? Nope.

70. What type of music do you listen to? A little bit of everything.

71. Favorite vine? The get silly one with the little cat, I watch it late at night to help me sleep sometimes.

72. Beaches or castles? How bout a Castle on a beach? Because that would be fantastic!

73. Pick the closest book to you, and write the line you opened to:

“No,” he whispered with a sigh as his head rested on my shoulder. “No, I suppose I don’t.” - the heart’s invisible furies by John boyne. This is a fantastic book by the way!

74. Anyone in the same room as you right now? Yassine. My room mate, we cook supper together sometimes, and talk about our days, I can kinda tell he likes the company, he’s one of those social people who suddenly live in a place where he can’t be as social, poor kid.

75. Which is worse; throwing up or diarrhea? I haven’t thrown up since I was five, so that was 22 years ago, so I’m going to say diarrhea.

76. Butterflies or lady bugs? Butterflies! They’re so pretty!

77. Do you say “K” when you’re mad? I say oh-kayyyy, because I’m usually trying not to snap at someone and that’s how I calm myself.

78. How do you react when people purposely scare you? It’s kinda hard to sometimes, but when they do, I just startle and start laughing afterwards.

79. Most overrated celebrity? Cate Blanchett - she named her son after Roman Polanski people, that woman ain’t shit.

80. Do you have a globe in your room? No.

81. Do you have a dream catcher in your room? I don’t surprisingly, but I sometimes like my nightmares, they can give me story inspiration sometimes.

82. What do you see when you look out your window? My courtyard, it has a really nice tree and bench that I can’t wait to read on when it’s warm out again.

83. Have you been on an airplane? Yup!

84. Do you believe in aliens? I do! I used to kinda be terrified of them because of this Movie I saw when I was a kid, called Fire in the Sky. Like that movie made me cry I was so scared, and then my friend Princess told me she wouldn’t be scared of aliens, because in a way they’re like people, just beings from far off places, and why be scared of someone not from Earth, so I got over that fear pretty quickly.

85. Do you believe in ghosts? I do, mostly because I’ve seen plenty in my life. Good and bad ones.

86. Do you believe in God? Yeah man! I believe in all of people’s beliefs, because that’s important to them in a way. Much like I believe in Creator, why shouldn’t I believe in a god?

87. Do you believe in yourself? All the fucking time, it’s one of my many strengths.

I never know who to tag, whoops! I tag whoever wants to do this! :):):)

#about me #tag game #long post

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tellerford-mayhem · 7 years

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Americano: No hablo su Jesus Cristo Chapter 3

Masterlist

Ship: Chibs x OC

Word Count: 2,500 Words

Synopsis: Isa learns that the Sons may not have been involved in the death of her father.

Rating: M

Warnings: Strong Language, Mentions of Death and Suicide

A/N: As promised, here is part 3!! Next part, which I have already started features a very different dynamic in the relationship between Isa and Chibs as he comes to terms with what she means to him.

Her POV

Isa hadn't seen SAMCRO in 2 weeks, which she had found rather odd, but at the same time she felt relieved. She had hoped something fell through and the tribe was no longer selling to them. However, when she heard a group of bikes approaching that day, her heart sank. She walked outside and saw them park in front of her house. Chibs smiled at her as he took off his helmet. She rolled her eyes and stormed through them. “If looks could kill…” she heard Tig day under his breath.

She huffed and continued walking until she got to Wolf Tamer’s house. She knocked loudly on the door. “Wolf, let's go!”

He stepped outside in his boxers and shielded his eyes from the sun. He saw the bikes outside her house, so he knew why she was there. “Can you wait until I am dressed?”

She nodded and stepped inside. “We are going to Oakland.”

“Why?” She heard him ask from down the hallway.

“I'm not supposed to be here while SAMCRO is here, and I don't want to be followed while I'm alone, again.”

“You were followed?” He asked as he walked towards her while pulling a shirt over his head.

“Jax had his Scottish Bulldog follow me into Charming. They don't trust me because my uncle is Alvarez.”

He grabbed a hat off the kitchen table. “I'll tag along. Why are we going to Oakland today?”

She smiled as they walked to her car. Chibs and Tig watched her as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “To make them nervous,” she said as they backed down the driveway.

“Please don’t get me killed,” he said, looking back at the biker who was close behind them.

Chibs POV

He watched her walk into Wolf Tamer’s house and instantly grew uncomfortable. He kept a close eye on the door, waiting for her to storm back out. He heard movement coming from there before the two of them walked out and past their bikes. He heard her mention Oakland before getting into her car, smiling at them. “Shite,” he said under his breath.

“Where’s she going?” Tig asked.

“Tell Jax I’ve gotta run.”

“Chibs!” he called after him as Chibs sped away.

He followed at a distance. As soon as he entered Mayan territory, he pulled over and removed his patch; anything to lessen his chances of being spotted. He watched as they pulled into the same driveway as a few weeks ago. She got out of her car and hugged her uncle who met her in the driveway. He watched Wolf Tamer get out of the car and shake Alvarez’s hand. He sat against his bike, watching carefully until he felt the cool of a gun touch the back of his neck. “You’re a long way from home,” said a voice from behind him.

“Aye, and yer treadin’ in dangerous waters.” He put his hands up and slowly turned around. He was face to face with one of the Mayans. “Don’t worry. I’m not here for Alvarez.”

“I’m well aware. I saw you following his sobrina.”

“I’m not followin’ her,” he lied, “I’m followin’ her friend.”

“Either way, you’re awfully brave heading down into Mayan territory alone.”

“Pedro, lo dejó ir.” Her voice was a blessing. It gave Chibs a chance to find a way to escape.

“Ha estado siguiéndote todo este tiempo,” he said.

Chibs dropped his hands and turned around. Isa was standing behind them with her arms crossed. She looked sufficiently annoyed. “Lo sé. Le pedí que lo hiciera.”

Pedro shook his head and dropped his gun. “He stays here until you leave.”

She walked confidently towards him. “He can go wherever I damn well tell him to, Pedro. Now go inside before I have another conversation with Uncle Marcus.”

“Ten cuidado, princesa.”

She waited until he was out of earshot before she said something to Chibs. “I’m not going to tell my uncle anything. Go home.”

“Not gonna happen, mo leannan.”

She pushed him backwards. “Go home, Chibs!”

“Isa!” Marcus called to her from across the street. He drew his gun. “What is he doing here?”

“Ay dios mio. I had him follow me!”

“Why?”

“Why? Porque estás trabajando con el diablo.”

“So you hired SAMCRO?”

“Yes. I don’t trust your new partner, so I can’t ask one of our guys.”

He rubbed his hand across his face before looking at Chibs. “You realize if anything happens to her…”

“I know.” Chibs said.

Alvarez looked between his niece and the Scot. Anger and hatred welled in his eyes. “Diana has dinner ready, Isa, let’s go.”

“I’ll be right in, Tio.”

She turned back to Chibs. “Looks like you’re stuck here, now,” she smiled. “But when we get back to the rez, we are going to talk.”

“I’m countin’ down the hours, lass.” He said with a wink.

“Bleh.” she turned and headed back in.

Chibs watched her walk away. Despite the fact he was doing something they normally give to the Prospect, he was glad his tail was something sweet to look at. He grabbed his cellphone and sent Jax a text telling him that he followed her to Oakland to her uncle’s home and that he was stuck there until she left.

Her POV

She peered through the curtain to see him leaning against his bike, smoking. Wolf and her uncle were still sitting at the table, full from dinner. She had made him wait all afternoon while she spent time with her family. Her aunt came up from behind her and said softly, “Nunca he visto a Marcus tan molesto por SAMCRO.”

She turned to Diana. “Si lo supieras, tía.”

Wolf was leaning back smiling as he continued talking with Alvarez. It was like when she was younger and her parents would bring her over to Uncle Marcus and Aunt Diana’s home for holidays. They would allow her to bring Wolf so she had someone to talk to. None of her cousins were her age, so she had no one to play with or keep her occupied. Marcus was as much his uncle as he was hers. “He’s grown up quite nicely.” She turned back to the window. “But this one out here…” She looked back at her. “He’s not half bad either.”

Isa shook her head. “The Scot outside can go fuck himself.”

“Isa…”

“Don’t worry. I’d tell him that to his face, and as for Wolf…”

She rested her hand on her niece’s arm. “I’m only giving you a hard time. Come with me and help me fix dessert.”

Isa followed her aunt into the kitchen. “Your uncle tells me that you want to move back to Oakland.”

“I do,” she said as she poured another glass of wine. “I can’t live on the rez anymore. I love my family there, but I miss it here.”

Diana sighed. “I remember before your mother’s accident, she made me promise to her to watch over you. She wanted you out of this life and as far away from the Mayans and SAMCRO as you could get. If you moved back here, you’d only be in deeper.”

“It doesn’t matter where I live, this life will follow me. Literally. Have you noticed the biker sitting outside?”

She grabbed plates out of the cabinet. “Look at what has happened to your family. Your sister is gone; your brother is dead; and then there’s your parents. This life killed your parents. You are all that is left of Mateo and Aiyana.”

“I am not leaving this life until SAMCRO feels my pain,” she said.

“Isa, what are you planning?”

“I don’t know, yet, but I can’t rest until I’ve avenged my father.”

Diana shook her head. “Is that why he’s following you? They know you're up to something?”

“Why they're following me doesn't matter. They don't trust me because of who I'm related to.”

“They aren't following anyone else, so why you?”

Isa contemplated on telling her aunt their relationship with the Wahewa, but she knew if SAMCRO found out, they'd kill her. “I guess because I live too close to Charming for comfort.” She hated lying to her aunt, but it was something she had grown accustomed living this style of life.

“Please be careful. MCs are dangerous. If our crew finds out, this is going to put you right in the crossfire.”

“I can handle myself, Tia Diana.”

Diana handed her a plate of Tres Leches Cake. “Serve this to your uncle.”

Isa picked up another plate for Wolf. Her aunt handed her two extra plates when she came back into the kitchen. “I’m sure your tail is hungry.”

“I’m not taking him anything.”

“Es hora de hacer la paz con el pasado, Isa.”

“I will when the person responsible for my father’s death feels my pain.”

Diana sighed. “If you don’t take this to him, I will.”

Isa rolled her eyes and took the two plates outside. Chibs was sitting on the curb next to his bike, smoking a cigarette. “Oy, Cabrón, aquí esta su postre.”

He smiled and put out his light. “Thank ye, lass. I was getting a wee bit famished sittin’ out here.”

“Don’t start thinking I actually care about you. My aunt made me bring this to you.”

He grabbed the plate from her and began to dig in. She stood across from him and ate her dessert. “Finish the dessert and go back to the rez.”

“Look, Lass, I ken that ye aren’t gonna say anything, but you and I need to have a talk about yer da’.”

She stopped eating and glared at him. “No, we don’t.” She took the plate away from him and stormed back across the street. She found her aunt, uncle, and friend sitting around the table enjoying her uncle’s favorite dessert. “I think it’s time we head home, Wolf.”

He finished his last bite and took his plate into the kitchen. “Marcus, Diana, it’s always great seeing you two. Thanks again, for dinner!”

Diana hugged him and Isa. “I’m so happy you were able to come for dinner!”

“Te amo, Sobrina,” Marcus said from his chair.

“Te amo, Tio.”

His POV

They got back to the reservation after SAMCRO had left. Chibs parked his bike behind her car and leaned against the trunk. “Run along, Wolfie. Yer girl and I need to have a talk,” he said, shooing Wolf Tamer away.

“I’ll wait here with her.”

“Wolf, can you wait inside? I’ll holler if I need you.”

He shook his head. “I’ll sit on the porch, but I’m not going inside.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms and turned to him. “Look, today is the only day I will cover for you in Oakland. I only did it because I wanted a peaceful day with my family.”

He smiled. “Still. Thank ye, Lass.” He adjusted against the truck and sighed. “We still need to talk about yer da’.”

She grew rigid. “The last thing I want to talk about with you is my father.”

He shook his head. He still had no information to give her, as Otto was still looking into it on his end, but he wanted to at least put the doubt in her mind. “SAMCRO didn’ kill yer da’.”

She looked up at him, anger welling in her eyes. The look cut through him, stinging every fiber in his body. “I have no reason to lie to ye,” he said “I just know we didn’ kill yer da’. We were in talks with him about a peace. We had lost too many, just like the Mayans did, but when Mateo died it sent us right back into the war with them. Someone framed us, Isa.”

She crossed her arms. “How do you know this?”

“I was there.”

“Then who killed him? Who carved the Anarchy ‘A’ into the middle of his chest and left him to bleed out on his bathroom floor?”

“I dinna ken, Lass. Tha’ I’m still trying to figure out for ye.”

“Or you’re trying to cover it up for your club.”

He shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette. “Just think about it, will ye? Why would our club kill yer da’ if we were tryin’ to make peace with ‘im?”

She looked over to Wolf who was watching them intently. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“Think about it. I’m sure I’ll see ye in a couple of weeks.”

“Great.” She quickly turned and stormed past Wolf with tears in her eyes.

Wolf looked between the two of them and glared at Chibs. “She might need some of yer comfort,” Chibs said motioning to the house.

“I get why my tribe trades with you, but you don’t need to be here.” He stood tall as he approached the Scot. “You aren’t going to follow her anymore; you aren’t going to come around her anymore; and you certainly aren’t going to talk to her about Mateo anymore.”

“Is tha’ right?” Chibs took a step towards him. “Well, maybe I intend to find out who really killed her da’ so she can ‘ave peace o’ mind. After which, I’ll kick yer red, Indian arse for even thinkin’ about tellin’ me what ta do.”

Wolf stared at him. “You think that because you’re some big, bad biker that you can walk over anyone. I’m not going to let you do that to Isa. She’s been through enough, and I swear if you don’t leave her alone, my red, Indian arse will be kicking your pale, Scottish one back to where it came from.”

Chibs smiled. “Oh, I’m sure ye will,” he said, “tell yer girl I’ll be in touch.”

He stared at the biker as he drove away, angry at the pain he was causing Isa. He knew she was in her room, staring at old pictures of Mateo and Aiyana with their three beautiful children. Wolf had been there through everything: her sister’s suicide, her brother’s overdose, and her parents’ deaths. Isadora had no one left, except aunts and uncles. She was completely and utterly alone, she felt, in her suffering, and there was nothing he could do to help her. All he felt he could do was keep her away from the Scottish prick that was tormenting her by digging up her past. Whether or not the Sons killed Mateo didn’t matter. Chibs was bringing up something that she didn’t want to think about.

As Chibs drove away, all he could think about was the look on her face. Doubt. It was there. She knew the Sons didn’t kill her father, but they were the closest Mayan enemy she could think of to blame them. He didn’t know why it bothered him, but he didn’t want her to think of him as a cold-blooded murderer. He wanted her to see his club and him in a better light, and he was going to make damn sure she did.

#Chibs x OC #Chibs Telford #Tommy Flanagan #SAMCRO #SoA #Sons of Anarchy #Americano

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badgersinthesky · 7 years

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The Youngest Hawthorne

» Basic Information « || Full Name || Susan Adelaide Hawthorne || Nickname(s) || Sky, Sue || DoB || July 6, 1939 (HP verse, 'canon'); 1989 (Present Day, non-canon), 2005 (HEX verse, canon) || Age || 77; 27; 12 || Gender || Female || Species || Human || Orientation || Lesbian || Nationality || Scottish (paternal); Cherokee/Irish/English (maternal) || Blood Status || Muggle born || House || Hufflepuff || Wand || Apple wood, Phoenix Feather, 10 3/4" || Occupation || Magizoologist (HP & Present); 2nd Year Student (HEX) || Animal Companion || Pygmy Owl - Biscuit || Patronus || Dun Stallion; Puma (HP) || Animagus || American Kestrel - markings around the eyes are the same shape as her glasses; IDEALLY it would be an Abraxan, but I don't know if that's allowed || Boggart || A clown with spider legs || Amortentia || †Rosemary †Ginger snaps † Cinnamon † Orange Blossoms † Petrichor » Appearance « || Metamorphmagus || Despite this trait, she tends to keep one basic look for the most part, unless she's being goofy or trying to cheer someone up. || Hair || Long blonde hair that she keeps back in either a ponytail, or a loose braid. || Eyes || A bright sky blue that tend to darken or lighten, depending on her mood. || Height || Approximately 5'6 1/2"; however at 12 she is 4'7" || Physical Appearance || While she's a little small for her age, Susan has a slim build but is fairly toned. Most people believed this to be from either running or swimming, but the truth of the matter was she was constantly outside, either playing with her siblings, helping on her family's farm, taming the wildlife, or exploring. Despite the Native American blood that flows throughout her veins, she unfortunately did not inherit any of the lovely traits. In short; she's a pasty girl that couldn't tan to save her life. She's either a lobster, or a pale peach. No inbetweens. Once in awhile, she does actually manage to tan a little, making the freckles on her face and shoulders stand out. Her body is scattered with scars in random places from random excursions, but otherwise she bears no remarkable features. Later on in life however, she will procure a jagged scar that mars her back, and right hip; a constant reminder of the events that had taken place. She will also acquire a temporary mark on the inside of her left forearm. || Material Appearance || Susan loves plaid of all flavors. When she isn't in her school uniform, she is typically found in faded and torn jeans, sneakers, and a plaid top of varying colors, though she tends to stick with black and yellow. She HATES skirts and dresses, but does consent to wearing the standard plaid skirt underneath her robes. || Possessions || † Glasses - she has absolutely terrible eyesight, and cannot go without them. The frames are a simple black plastic. † Ring - It is comprised of a simple silver band with filigree etched into it, an opal set in the middle. Her oldest sister, Willow, gave this to her the day she received her acceptance letter to Hogwarts. † Biscuit - Susan's pet pygmy owl. The two share a deep bond, not unlike most of the animals she comes across. Instead of procuring him the traditional way, Susan had saved him as a tiny owl chick, when she was 9, after he had fallen out of his nest. She had tried to return him at first, but soon after she realized the nest had been abandoned and took it upon herself to raise the little fellow. They've been together ever since. » Personality « || Traits/Quirks || Good at making people laugh, very focused when it's something that she's extremely interested in; when she's nervous she chews on her bottom lip or babbles on incoherently || Strengths || Highly protective, and very loyal; Flying; Transfiguration and Charms; her intuition and inquisitive nature || Flaws/Weaknesses || She's a huge chicken. Does not trust easily; has a hard time concentrating on History and any kind of math; animals are her major weakness; can be really hard on herself when she messes up; || Likes || Animals, all things plaid, being outdoors, nature, flying, mashed potatoes, making people laugh, exploring, having a huge family || Dislikes || Hypocrites, dishonesty, being lied to, rudeness, bullying, mushrooms, unnecessary loudness, public speaking, cooked spinach || Fears || Clowns, spiders, small spaces, being a disappointment, losing everyone that she loves, noises in the dark || Hobbies || Reading, writing, drawing, flying, exploring everything she can that has to do with Hogwarts, hiking, swimming in the lake, unintentionally scaring herself in the forest/dark/castle, hoarding animals, making lame jokes, getting her friends out of trouble » Family « || Parents || †Lachlan Hawthorne †Adelaide Hawthorne (nee O'Carroll) || Siblings || †Willow Hawthorne - Gryffindor - †Gavin Hawthorne †Finley Hawthorne - Ravenclaw - †Helena Hawthorne †Moira Hawthorne †Erskine Hawthorne In later years, she acquires more brothers and sisters when her parents start fostering children, and eventually adopt most of them. || Extended Family || †Rowan Hawthorne, niece (b. 1947, canon; 1996, present; 2012 HEX verse); Mother is Willow †Great-great-great Uncle O'Carroll || Significant Other || Minerva McGonagall (HP, canonish; don't judge, I love all things McGonagall) » School Life « || Years in School || 1950-1957 (canon); 2000-2007 (present); 2016- (HEX) || House || Hufflepuff || Quidditch Position || Keeper, Years 3-7 || Favorite Classes || Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, Charms || Worst Class || History of Magic || O.W.L. Scores || Astronomy ◦ E | Ancient Runes ◦ A | Care of Magical Creatures ◦ O | Charms ◦ O | Defense Against the Dark Arts ◦ E | Herbology ◦ E | History of Magic ◦ P | Potions ◦ A | Transfiguration ◦ O || N.E.W.T. Scores || Astronomy ◦ O | Ancient Runes ◦ E | Care of Magical Creatures ◦ O | Charms ◦ O | Defense Against the Dark Arts ◦ E | Herbology ◦ E | Potions ◦ E | Transfiguration ◦ O » Bio « Susan’s parents met in Chicago, IL, after her father immigrated there from Scotland. He had hoped to find the job of his dreams, so that he would be able to provide his future family with everything he didn't have growing up. Instead, he found the woman of his dreams, and shortly after they were married. While both of them were Muggles, they discovered that they had more in common than they initially thought; Willow had displayed her powers at a very young age, and while the two were reluctant to say anything for fear of rejection, they found that they both had magical ancestors. After Susan was born, her parents were both shocked and thrilled to see that her hair color had changed within a matter of minutes, no less than 4 times. One of Adelaide’s great-great-great-great aunts had been a Metamorphmagus, and it seemed as though the trait had finally been passed along. When Susan had turned 3, her parents decided to take over her father’s ailing parents farm, and the Hawthorne's moved back to Scotland. Being the youngest of seven had its perks, but some days it felt like the worst thing in the world. All in all, our little badger got along very well with her siblings. However, she was closest to her oldest sister, Willow, and her middle brother, Finley. The three of them were inseparable, and were always together. The older two would protect their youngest sister, and teach her everything they knew about life on a farm, and the great outdoors. In turn, Susan would show them the different animals she came across, and come up with adventures for them to go on. It was of no surprise that the three of them were the only Hawthorne children to receive Hogwarts acceptance letters when they came of age. This did spark some jealousy amidst the siblings, but not as much as one would imagine, surprisingly. While at school, she was a very hardworking student, but didn't devote all of her time to studying. She was absolutely thrilled with the prospect of exploring the castle and grounds, keen to find out as many secrets about her new home as she could. She would even venture into the Forbidden Forest, despite the warnings they received. Now, she was absolutely terrified of the place, she was only brave when someone she cared about was in trouble, but the prospect of finding new animal friends outweighed her chickenness in this case. She made friends very easily, with everyone she came across, and did not discriminate against anyone at all. Because of her highly protective nature, she was the only choice for the Hufflepuff Keeper in her third year. Flying was one of her most favorite things to do, when she wasn't being a goof. A lot of people found her sense of humor to be a bit dry at times, but generally speaking she could get a good laugh out of everyone. When Susan turned 15, her mother inherited a rather large estate from her great-great uncle, back in Chicago. Now that most of their children were grown and out of school, and the farm had been passed over to Willow, Lachlan and Adelaide decided to move back to the States and turn the estate into a foster home, and expand their large family. Rather than uproot Susan youngest and disrupt her schooling, Willow took her in. After school, Susan perused a career as a Magizoologist, and split her time between the two countries in order to spend time with her ever-growing family.

#non-canon canon character #HP #SkyBadger #The Youngest Hawthorne #about the muse #ic

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