#even though she emailed me saying her daughter would be late. why did i stay all the way till 5 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ravennm84 · 3 years

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Doctor’s Note

We all know how Lila fakes having different diseases and medical problems, but what would happen if she actually got sick and her mother went to the school to drop off a doctor’s note and pick up Lila’s assignments? Want the answer? Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!

Greta Rossi could admit that she was a bit of a workaholic. Being the secretary to the assistant ambassador of Italy, in a city that was constantly under attack by a magical terrorist, was not the easiest job in the world either. It took a lot of early mornings, late nights, and even some weekends to make sure everything was prepared for her boss. But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t drop everything for her one and only daughter when she needed her.

Right now, for example, Lila was trapped in bed with a nasty case of strep throat. The poor girl had a fever, white pustules at the back of her throat, and could hardly stop coughing. It was only due to some very strong medicine that she was able to stop coughing long enough to pass out from exhaustion.

She had contacted her work to let them know she would be taking the week off, and the ambassador had been very understanding. Stressing that he knew how dedicated she was to her work and that it was good for her to take time off for her family. It was only after Lila was sound asleep that she made the phone call to her school, she wanted to make sure they knew why Lila was staying home and that she would be in later that afternoon to pick up her daughter’s assignments for the next week.

The principal, M. Damocles was his name, seemed very happy to have spoken to her and said that he would have her assignments waiting when she came to pick them up. Also, if she could bring the doctors’ notes with her, that would be very much appreciated.

Checking again that Lila was sound asleep, she left a note on her daughter’s bedside table that she was running some errands, would be home soon, and to text her if she needed anything.

Arriving at the school, she was surprised to see everything running so smoothly and that the reconstruction after the two month akuma attack had been gone so well. She was impressed that she couldn’t even tell the difference between the old and new parts of the building. But then, she wasn’t overly skilled with architecture or building construction, so that wasn’t a surprise to her.

A few knocks on the door and she entered M. Damocles office. She had only met the man a couple times, but he had seemed like a decent person. It was a shame that he had been akumatized for so long and she was curious about what had happened to cause him to be akumatized, but she wasn’t sure if it was proper to ask him.

“Mme. Rossi, good to see you. I understand that Lila has fallen ill?” He asked, spinning around to grab a blue folder behind his desk.

“Yes, the poor dear has strep throat and has been coughing nonstop for days.” Greta told him as she pulled the doctor’s note from her purse. “Here’s the note you requested, do you have her homework packet?”

Damocles looked over the note for a moment before nodding and looking at her expectantly. “Thank you, do you have her other doctor’s notes?”

Greta tilted her head in confusion. “Does she need more than one? It’s just strep throat, she should be back to school after next week.”

“No madam, this is all I need for her current leave from school. I was referring to the doctor’s notes for her tinnitus, arthritis, sprained wrist, and her lying disease. That last one especially, and any information you can give me on accommodating that one so we do not have a repeat of the incident last month.”

Nothing in the world could have kept her jaw from dropping. What he had just told her? “M. Damocles, everything you just said is completely false. Lila has no such ailments, and I don’t think there is such a thing as a lying disease, unless you are referring to pathological lying.”

The man blinked back at her a few times before raising one hand to rub his brow. “Oh my, Mme. Rossi, I believe you and I must have a long discussion about the things your daughter has been saying and doing since she started school here.”

Her legs were stiff as she lowered herself into a chair, a sick feeling growing in her stomach as M. Damocles pulled a different folder out from his desk.

~oOo~

Over two hours later, many truths had finally come out.

1) The school had never closed for months due to akumas.

2) When M. Damocles had been akumatized, it had been at night and did no damage to the school.

3) Greta was not the ambassador, but a secretary.

4) Lila did not suffer from any diseases.

5) They had been in Paris since Lila had started school, no globetrotting whatsoever.

6) She and her husband were not estranged, he had simply wanted to stay at his dream job in Venice and she would never force him to leave it for her temporary assignment here in Paris.

7) Lila’s grandmother was alive and had never owned or given Lila a foxtail necklace.

8) The phone number on file was Lila’s number, not Greta’s. And the email was supposed to be ‘.gov’ not ‘.com’.

Damocles had also called one of Lila’s classmates to his office, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. When the principal told Greta about the incident from the previous month, she was shocked. Then Marinette told them her side of the story; all the lies, the threats, and finally setting the poor girl up to be expelled. Greta had never been so angry with her daughter in her life. Sure, she had been a good little story teller and actress when she was little, but she never would have thought she could be so cruel.

By the end of her explanation, Marinette was practically in tears.

When she mentioned that Adrien Agreste also knew of Lila’s lies, he was called to the office as well. He was a little more reluctant to talk about what Lila had been saying, but Greta insisted that she wanted to know what her daughter had been doing since coming to school, so he told her. If she hadn’t been disgusted before, she definitely was now. Getting Adrien’s father’s employees in trouble, lying about being friends with Ladybug all while telling Greta that she was a useless hero, sexually harassing Adrien while the boy didn’t even realize that was what she was doing to him. She had become a Gabriel model without her permission, which meant that Lila had likely forged her signatures on the contracts, so she would need to contact M. Agreste to get that sorted out. One of the things that surprised her was hearing that Lila had been akumatized, not once or twice, but three times!

Not long after that, M. Damocles dismissed the children so he and Greta could finish speaking. He told her that, due to falsifying contact records and two months of truancy, Lila was likely to be expelled. Greta accepted this, knowing that she would have done the same thing in that man’s position. In fact, she already had a plan forming on how to thoroughly punish her deceitful daughter. And since Lila had basically been quarantined for the next week and a half, she knew exactly what to do.

First, she began the paperwork to have Lila pulled out of Francois Dupont, effective immediately and asked to go speak to Lila’s classmates. After hearing what her daughter had put Marinette through, she wanted to make sure everyone knew the truth. Damocles allowed this, first pulling Mme. Bustier from the class to alert her as to what was happening. The woman was appalled to hear what had happened but insisted that she had been in contact with her for months via email, to which Greta informed her that it was not her email, but one that Lila had likely set up to keep the school from contacting her. This shocked the teacher to the point where she heavily leaned against the wall and M. Damocles had to support her to keep from collapsing.

When Greta was finally permitted to address the class and debunk the lies that her daughter had been spewing, there had been a lot of shock and questions to follow. But when a girl named Alya began furiously typing on her phone to blow up at Lila, Greta stopped her.

“I’m going to ask that none of you contact Lila from now on.” Alya and the other students looked at her in surprise, but she continued before anyone could interrupt. “I have already begun putting her punishment into motion and know for a fact that it will not be something she will forget anytime soon. So I ask that you do not call, text, or email her. If she attempts to contact you, tell her that you are busy and can’t talk. If she attempts to invite you over or make plans for the future, tell her that you are unavailable or that you already have plans. If she makes any threats or rude remarks to anyone, please forward those messages to me, I will leave my number for you to do so. Do this so that I may move forward with her punishment without her suspecting that I have discovered the truth.”

Having finally had the wool lifted from their eyes, the students realized just how much attention Lila seemed to demand on a daily basis. So, by acting like they were too busy for her or not in the mood to talk, that will drive her crazy and be a nice bit of revenge for lying to them. The class agreed.

After that, Greta headed home to find that Lila was still asleep but beginning to wake up, if the coughing was any indicator. While still having the chance, she called up her husband back in Venice.

“Pronto.”

“Mio amor, how are you? How are things at the school?”

“Ah, mia bella, the school is wonderful, though I must admit, my urge to see you and Lila grows by the minute. When will you come to visit me?”

“Very soon, actually. I’m afraid that you and I need to have a talk about our daughter.” About thirty minutes and a lot of cursing later, Ciro Rossi was now completely up to date on the actions of their daughter.

“I wish to say that I cannot believe Lila would do such things, but I can’t help remembering that boy, Roberto, from two years ago.”

Yes, Greta remembered him well. He had been a very popular boy at Lila’s school; handsome, rich, from a very well connected family, and from what she understood, completely dedicated to his boyfriend. She hadn’t paid him much attention until Lila came home crying that Roberto had attempted to sexually assault her. Greta and Ciro had refused to let such a thing go unchecked and went to the police to report him. During the weeks to follow, Roberto was put through hell; bullied at school, he was beaten up a few times, his boyfriend broke up with him, and his name slandered all over Venice. They had believed what happened to the boy to be justified… until proof was provided that he was nowhere near Lila when she claimed to have been assaulted.

She suddenly recanted her story, saying that she must have been mistaken and someone that looked like Roberto assaulted her, but the damage had already been done. The boy and his family moved somewhere far away, and Greta and Ciro were forced to pay restitution to Roberto for ruining his name and reputation. Through her tears, Lila convinced them that it had been an honest mistake and that she hadn’t meant for any of that to happen. It wasn’t long after that, Greta received an offer to be the secretary for the assistant ambassador in Paris. Lila had begged her mother to go with her, claiming that her classmates were now bullying her for what happened to Roberto. Wanting to protect their daughter, they agreed.

Looking back on it now, and noticing the similarities between Roberto and Adrien, both Greta and Ciro were disappointed in themselves for not seeing the truth. Which likely was that Lila had tried to get close to Roberto for his money and connections, and when he turned her down, she lied about the assault to ruin his life, much like she had done to Marinette. And when it came out that she had lied about Roberto, her classmates had turned on her. So when she got the chance to start somewhere new, with people who didn’t know about her lies, she took it. Not caring if she harmed anyone at her new school while repeating old habits. But they were not about to let Lila do the same thing to Adrien or Marinette. Once Greta told her husband her plan, he was all for it and began preparing things on his end. By the time Lila was done being sick, her entire life would have turned upside down.

~oOo~

It took a lot more effort than Greta had expected to hide her intentions for the nine days it took for Lila to get over her case of strep throat, but she had been making good use of that time.

She had contacted Gabriel Agreste’s secretary and asked about any contracts that may have been signed. When she told her she hadn’t signed any contract and that her daughter would no longer be modelling, the woman had no choice but to accept this and inform M. Agreste of this development. The woman also informed Greta that such a breach of contract would result in Lila being blacklisted from the fashion industry. She agreed and promised that she would inform her daughter of this once she was better.

Greta then looked into Lila’s savings and trust fund, of which she had control of since Lila was still a minor. She drained the accounts to pay restitutions to Marinette for bullying and slander, Adrien for sexual harassment; and then sent the rest of it to Roberto, along with a message that she was now completely aware of the type of person her daughter was and would be adequately punished very soon.

And to keep too much suspicion off of her, Greta began mentioning to Lila how her father desperately wanted to see her after she got better, so after the doctor gave her a clean bill of health, they would be going to Venice to see him. Now that she was watching, Greta saw the twinge of uncertainty at the mention of Venice, but quickly covered it with false excitement for going back to visit her father.

As the day grew closer that they would be heading to Italy, Greta also noticed Lila glaring at her phone with utter malice. She might not have known what was going on if Lila’s classmate, Alya, wasn’t keeping her up-to-date on what Lila was telling them. Her daughter was attempting to tell the class that she was going to be going on a trip with a famous singer after she was better, but her classmates were doing as Greta asked and treating the lies as if they meant nothing. When she accused Marinette of calling her a liar while she was sick and couldn’t defend herself, the class stopped responding.

One message that was forwarded to Greta nearly had her abandoning her plan and confronting her daughter at that moment. It was a message that Lila had sent to Marinette, who had shared it with Alya, who then forwarded it to Greta. It read:

You fugly, no talent bitch! You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Those stupid sheep were eating up every single one of my lies before I got sick, and now they won’t even talk to me! Just you wait. When I get back to school, I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself. Maybe I’ll convince someone that you tried to kill me and they’ll kill you for me. Either way, you’re dead. And even if you show someone these messages, no one will believe you over me.

Greta forwarded the message to Ciro as well. He called her right away to discuss other accommodations that they would be making for Lila in the coming days. There was something seriously wrong with their daughter, and they refused to turn a blind eye to what was happening.

When the day finally came that Lila was better and they were heading to Venice, Greta instructed Lila not to pack her more expensive clothes as she would not want to lose them if their baggage got lost. What her daughter didn’t know was that Greta was planning on selling all of her designer clothes, jewelry, her electronics, and everything else to continue paying restitutions to Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto. And it wasn’t like she would need them soon, anyway.

The plane ride was a bit nerve racking for Greta, as she worried about giving something away and Lila figuring out her plan; but if she did, it didn’t show. When they landed at Venice Marco Polo Airport, she had to resist her sigh of relief. The plan was almost ready to be put in action.

When she saw Ciro waiting for them in his dress whites, her heart sped a bit more. The man was, without a doubt, the most handsome man she’d ever met, and was the love of her life. Being away from him for so long was difficult, but what else could they do? Her husband was a Capitano di Vascello of the Italian Navy and had worked very hard to get where he was. Although he was semi-retired now and no longer served on a ship, he had followed his dream and became the Vice Principal for the premier naval academy in Venice, Francesco Morosini Naval Military School.

He had gone to the school when he was younger and always claimed that it was the best experience he could have ever wished for. That being in that school saved his life. So when he continued into the navy to serve his country, he made it his goal to one day become the Principal of the school that saved him, so that he could do the same for other students. And now, they would be doing the same for Lila.

Greta and Ciro had thought of admitting Lila to Francesco Morosini when she came of age, but quickly realized that she was not the Navy type and did not want to force her into it. That choice was no longer Lila’s and she would be staying at the military school where it was Ciro’s job, not only as a father, but as an administrator of the school, to keep a close eye on any problem children.

Ciro embraced Greta and then Lila before taking their bags and walking them to his car. Lila was talking at length to her father about all her friends at school, all the happenings in Paris, and even mentioned her boyfriend, Adrien Agreste.

“You would like him, Papa. He’s a model, a gentleman, and his father is the designer, Gabriel Agreste. And he treats me like a princess!” Lila gushed as she showed her father a picture of Lila kissing the blonde boy’s cheek. Greta had seen that picture and had even asked Adrien about it while they had spoken in M. Damocles office. Lila had apparently kissed him without permission when she took that picture, and then sent it to every girl in Adrien’s contact list to make it seem like they were dating.

Ciro played along, asking questions about her classes, Adrien, the akuma situation that he had heard about over the news, and other things to keep Lila from growing suspicious. Sure enough, she prattled on through the entire car and ferry ride to Venice. Only seeming to look around questioning when they arrived at the Naval school, rather than their apartment.

“What are we doing here?” She asked, looking at her father in confusion.

The two parents dropped the act and glared at their daughter in disappointment and anger. “I’m surprised at you, young lady,” Greta started. “Did you really think you could keep lying to us? We. Know. Everything.”

They watched as her olive skin quickly paled. “What do you mean? I didn’t lie, I sw-”

“We know the school never closed,” Ciro interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument or interruption. “We know about you lying to your classmates and teachers about having disabilities and diseases. We know about you changing our contact information on your school records. We know about you bullying and sexually harassing your classmates. We know about the threats you’ve made to that one girl. We know that you’ve been akumatized multiple times. We know the truth about what you really did to Roberto two years ago! WE KNOW EVERYTHING!”

With every word he said, Lila seemed to inch away from her irate parents and shrink into herself. At the same time, they saw the rage and contemplation in her eyes. She was angry at being caught and was already trying to think of a way out of trouble. Not that they would give her a chance to even try.

“But I didn’t li-”

“Lie number one, Ladybug is a useless superhero that let your school get damaged and spent months trying to deakumatize your principal, which is why you were out of school for two months.” Greta interrupted that time, pinning her daughter with a glare that she usually reserved for idiot interns who screwed up important paperwork at the embassy. “I personally spoke to your principal and looked into Ladybug. The school never closed. Ladybug and Chat Noir have always defeated the akumas and restored the damage thanks to their abilities. And you told the school that you and I were off globetrotting to places like Achu.”

Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. She was just beginning to stammer out an excuse when her father spoke over her.

“Lie number two, a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been bullying you because she is jealous of your relationship with your boyfriend, Adrien Agreste. We have seen the texts that you have sent that girl, the most recent saying,” Ciro pulled out his phone to read off of the text “‘...I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself…’ Does that sound familiar to you?”

“I also personally spoke to Adrien after I spoke to Marinette, and found out that not only are you not his girlfriend, but you have been sexually harassing him! You even showed us proof in that picture you took where you kissed him!”

“But that’s not sexual harassment!” Lila shot back at them as her panic grew.

“Any unwelcome sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, and other verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature constitutes sexual harassment. Your mother and I memorized that when you accused Roberto of assault, which is another thing you lied about! And let me guess, you wanted to use that boy’s popularity and family connections for a leg-up, but he turned down your advances since he was gay. You didn’t take that rejection well, so you told us he assaulted you. Is that what happened?”

“How did you-” Lila interrupted herself that time by slapping her hand over her mouth, quickly realizing that she had confirmed what her father had just said.

“Well, congratulations young lady. You have earned a complete overhaul on your life.”

“What do you mean?” Lila didn’t want to know, but it seemed like she had no choice but to ask.

“Your modelling contract with Gabriel is done,” Greta told her, noticing her wince since they weren’t supposed to know about that either. “I spoke with his assistant and discovered that you forged my signatures on the contracts to let you model. They were kind enough not to pursue legal action against you, but they have asked that I inform you that you have been blacklisted from the fashion industry, so that career option is completely closed off to you.”

“Your mother educated your friends at school with the truth. They know about all your lies and have kept us apprised of what you have been saying, the rumors you have been attempting to spread about going on a trip with a random music star, and were kind enough to forward that threatening message you sent to that girl, Marinette. They are no longer interested in being your ‘sheep’.”

“Not that you will be returning to that school,” Greta continued. “Your truancy has made that impossible, even if we did want you to stay there to face the consequences of your actions. Which includes paying restitution to the people you’ve hurt.”

“Paying!” Ciro and Greta watched as Lila’s right eye began to twitch as she snapped at them.

“Yes, paying. I’ve already emptied out your savings and trust fund to pay back Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto for what you’ve done to them-”

“You can’t do that! That’s my money!” She screamed, stomping her foot at her mother like a five year old throwing a tantrum.

“Money that you earned illegally modelling after forging my signature. And you are a minor, I am well within my rights to take that money to pay for the damages you have incurred. I will also be selling your laptop, tablet, mobile phone, as well as the clothes and jewelry you left in Paris. Seeing as you won’t be needing them anymore.”

As she said this, Lila clutched her phone and hugged it against her chest. “How am I supposed to talk to anyone without my phone?”

“Pen and paper, and if you need to speak with your mother, there’s my office phone or the payphone in the barracks, where you will be staying.”

The girl’s eyes grew impossibly wide as she looked at her parents in a panic. They couldn’t mean…

Ciro smiled the smile that he used to greet the families whose children were in need of discipline. “Welcome to Francesco Morosini Naval Military School, where we strive to give children an education that will help them for their future and the world that waits for them.”

~oOo~

There had been a lot of begging, crying, and screaming after that as Lila did everything she could to try and change her parents’ minds. This was a total nightmare for her. Forced to wear a uniform she hated. Surrounded by students, teachers, and her father; all of whom knew that she was a liar. No one gave her the type of attention she craved, but everyone was giving her the overly watchful attention she despised. She couldn’t even enjoy becoming an akuma anymore, as she was far out of Hawkmoth’s reach.

Greta and Ciro had gone out to dinner afterwards in an attempt to de-stress, only to get a call an hour later that Lila had tried to steal a boat and run away from the school. She was put on a 24/7 watch after that, now required to wear a tracking monitor wherever she went and was on bathroom and floor cleaning duty for the foreseeable future.

When Greta returned to Paris, she went about doing exactly as she promised. She sold Lila’s electronics, clothes, and jewelry; only keeping a pair of plastic stud earrings that her grandmother had given her. She met with M. Damocles again to let him know that everything had been taken care of. She contacted the Dupain-Cheng family to let them know that Lila wouldn’t be bothering their daughter again. That was probably the most pleasant thing she did, as they were a lovely family and sent her off with a box of assorted scones, so yummy! When she had them send a box of goodies to her husband in Venice, he called her a few days later and begged her to send more whenever she could.

Lila absolutely hated seeing her father enjoy pastries from the bakery of her rival’s family. That, along with being forced to talk to a psychiatrist three times a week to make her admit that she was a liar and to figure out why she feels the need to lie. All while wearing a horrible uniform and actually having to clean. She was in her own personal hell. How she wished that she had never gotten sick.

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#lila salt #lila gets exposed #lila lies #lila karma #lila bashing #mlbjustice #miraculous ladybug #lila's parents #parenting done right

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mrsbrookegillespie · 3 years

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-Chapter One- Teacher!Charlie Gillespie x Single!Mom!Reader

(Not My Gif)

This Story Was INSPIRED By @boyfriendskywalker Who Deactivated Their Account While Writing The Charlie Gillespie Kindergarten Teacher Story. I Have Taken It Upon Myself To Write My Own Version With Some Of The Storyline They Used. So, ALL Credit For Part Of The Storyline Goes To Them. This Will Be A Series, And I Will Finish It.

Description: Just Read It While I Try To Come Up With One--GOT IT! Okay, so Y/N L/N is a single mother of her daughter Y/D/N. Having it been four years since the father walked away. Y/N taught herself to never trust a man, but when Y/D/N’s teacher uses his charm to worm his way into her life, will she finally be able to open herself up to love again?

Warnings: Language, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of mental abuse, and as the story goes on I’ll think of more. But, be prepared for some angst.

-Chapter One-

“One, two, three, four--”

“Mama?” Y/N looks down at the doe-eyed 5 year old. “Why are you counting?”

With a head shake, she presses her fingers onto her temples, gently massaging them. “Mama’s just tired, baby,” she explains, calmly. “And has a migraine.” Now flashing her daughter, Y/D/N, a fake smile, she starts the car. “Are you ready for school? Not gonna cause trouble again… Are you?”

“I don’t cause trouble!” Y/D/N argues, lightly kicking the back of the passenger seat. “My classmates also cause trouble, I just resolve it differently than others.” She crosses her arms with a huff.

Y/N furrows her eyebrows at her daughter's words. “Are you sure you’re five?”

“I like to say I’m six,” she says, casually.

The seriousness of the young girl’s demeanor was enough to make Y/N fall into a fit of laughter. “Well alrighty then. Six it is.” She pulls into a parking space. “We are here,” she announces, unbuckling her seat belt.

“Finally!” Y/D/N wrestles to get out of her car seat. “Could you help me out?”

Y/N gets out of the car, rushing to grab her majesty from the backseat. “Do you have everything?” she asks, setting Y/D/N down on the pavement.

Y/D/N shrugs, but resorts to saying, “Yes.”

“Good.” Y/N takes Y/D/N’s hand, guiding her into the colorful building they both grew to love and hate.

“Ms. L/N,” a female teacher says, only giving a stiff nod towards the women.

“Mrs. Winchester,” she replies mimicking the gesture. Both her and Y/D/N shiver when she passes by. “She scares me.”

Y/D/N nods dramatically, agreeing. “I think she’s a ghost,” she stage-whispers.

“Definitely.” Though Y/N’s tone might’ve been teasing, she wouldn’t be surprised if she actually was.

“Hello Y/D/N!” Another young female teacher waves before meeting Y/N’s eyes. “Ugh…” She continues to walk without giving Y/N a proper greeting.

“Good morning to you too,” she mumbles under her breath.

Only a couple more awkward encounters were experienced until she heard the loud shrill of-- “Mr. Gillespie!” Y/D/N lets go of Y/N’s hand, sprinting towards the man that she called her teacher.

“Good morning Miss Y/D/N!” he greets verbally, along with a big hug. “And look who’s with you.” He moves from his crouched position to stand as tall as he could next to Y/N. “Good morning, Y/N.”

“Good morning, Mr. Gillespie,” she responds. “Nice to feel welcomed.” Her tone turned a little colder than what it was. “I swear it was either just someone saying my name, or a judgement glare.”

“You’ll warm up to them,” he assures.

“Like I warmed up to you?” she questions. “Don’t put me under the impression that you actually like me, please, it’ll just blow my ego right out of proportion.” She uses her hands to demonstrate.

He doesn’t respond, only showing her a bright smile.

The bell rings, signaling both of them to go their separate directions. “Mr. Gillespie the bell rang,” a student calls out.

Y/N snaps out of her little daze. “And I guess Y/D/N already went to her seat. See? I knew she wasn’t that much of a troublemaker, but you know--” she cuts herself off seeing his amused expression. “You have to teach,” she blurts. “Right! Sorry, I’ll let you get to that. Bye Y/D/N!” she shouts into the filled room, Y/D/N’s face going into a look of horror. “Love you, stay safe and…” She salutes Charlie. “Good luck.” With a turn on her heel she goes to leave the building, mentally face palming herself on the way.

When in the safe space of her car, she allows her head to fall forward, which only led to her accidentally setting the horn off. It wasn’t like she’s not used to people. With being a hostess at a restaurant, all she did was talk, see, and meet a variety of different personalities and personas. But, after having to raise a daughter on her own you can say her cool way of talking, and the ability to form well rounded sentences went downhill. Baby talk does that.

“So, what you’re trying to tell me is that you like your daughter’s hot teacher?” her friend, Madison, asks. Madison was a little bit younger than Y/N was, Madison being seventeen and Y/N being twenty-four, she couldn’t help but bond with the girl.

“That’s not what I said,” Y/N remarks, wiping down a table.

“Then why are you blushing?”

“Because you’re embarrassing me!” Y/N whines.

“And I’m the teenager,” Madison snickers.

Y/N blows some of her hair out of her face. “I won’t deny that he’s… Decent looking, but the problem is in the question. ‘Daughter’s teacher’,” she repeats the words Madison said earlier.

“You told me that Y/D/N can’t get enough of what you only call ‘Mr. Gillespie’, I don’t even know his first name.” She scrunches up the right side of her face.

“Because it’s informal.”

“He calls you by your first name,” Madison replies back, bluntly. “But, back to the point. If Y/D/N really likes him then what’s the problem?”

Y/N stops her movements, giving Madison a blank stare. She opens her mouth to answer, but closes it. “I just can’t, okay? Can we please drop it?”

Madison’s eyes soften when seeing Y/N’s pleading ones. “Yeah, sure.” She leans against one of the tables.

“Hello!” someone calls out from a few feet away. “We’ve been standing here for like ten minutes, can we be seated?” The annoyance on the man's face was evident.

Y/N sends Madison a cheeky smirk. “You’re on, Mads.”

She stomps her foot, discreetly, going to the group of people who are most likely ‘hangry’. Y/N glances at her watch, seeing how it was about time she headed out for her break and got Y/D/N from school, only to have the last minute babysitter she found that morning watch her for the rest of the day, so Y/N can finish her shift. It wasn’t the most ideal schedule, but it worked. It paid the bills, it put food on the table--could it be the reason Y/D/N throws fits, and tantrums in classrooms, and seeks attention? Maybe.

“We need to set up a meeting.”

Y/N gapes at Mr. Gillespie who for the first time she’s seen with a stern look on his face. “Wh-why?” she stutters.

“I know you aren’t blind to see that Y/D/N is…” His voice fades off. “The Principal wants to set up a conference with you, me, Y/D/N, and the counselor after school one of these days.”

Y/N’s frown gets wider, glancing over towards Y/D/N in the seat next to her. The girl only kept her eyes glued to her shoes. “The only days I’m off of work are Saturdays, Sunday’ and Wednesdays.” She pulls out her phone, scrolling through the calendar. “Yeah, only those days, I don’t know if any of those days would work but…”

“You work all those other days?” He raises an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah,” she answers, not thinking too much about it. She gasps loudly, when it hits her. “Work!” She looks at her watch. “I’m gonna be late going back.” She stands up. “I’ll send you an email tonight on what time works best for me, and then you as a faculty can talk amongst yourselves if it works for you. I’m gonna take my kid now, and go, so I don’t have to keep being stared at with that look you and all the other teachers give me.” She takes Y/D/N’s hand, the slight pull of it noticeable enough to have Y/N make a mental note.. “Have a nice rest of your day, Mr. Gillespie.

“Bye, bye,” Y/D/N finally whispers towards him. With a weak wave they both leave the room, once out of sight running for the door. “Why were we running?” she asks, when Y/N starts to speed to their house.

“Because Mama’s gonna be late to work, and is now stressed because we have to talk to adults who don’t like her very much,” she pauses. “You and I need to have a very, very, serious conversation when I get back home on where your behavior is coming from.”

“But, I don’t wanna,” Y/D/N cries.

“I know you don’t want to, I don’t want to, but it’s one of the cons of being a parent, I have to be strict at times when you don’t follow the rules.”

“But--”

“Don’t make me yell at you,” Y/N warns. “You and I both hate yelling when you’re in trouble, so I think we’d both appreciate it if you promise to be good until I’m back, no arguing.”

Y/D/N slowly feels the tears come to her eyes. “Mr. Gillespie never yells at me.”

The name made Y/N freeze a little. Was he a part of the reason?

Taglist

@yagorlemmalyn @justxfolio @charliegillespiewife

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atlafan · 3 years

Text

Part One - “Call me Jane.”

a/n: here’s part one of nanny!H, I’m very excited about this series. I’m not sure how many parts it’s going to be, so please don’t ask lmao. Once I know how many parts it’ll be, I’ll make a master post for it. I’m just too excited not at least share the first part because Harry is just too cute in this! Feedback and reblogs are super helpful, and keep me motivated, especially when it comes to writing series. (not proofread) You can support me here if you’re able!

Warnings: none...for now

Words: 4.1K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Jane Watson)

Master Post

Harry found himself in a real bind. He was twenty-six years old, had an early childhood education degree, and the daycare he worked at was going under. He had just been promoted a month prior too, how could things go wrong so quickly? Times like this he really hated that he stayed in the states. Childcare services weren’t nearly as fucked up back home. His dream was to save up enough money to open up his own pre-school at some point, but it was really tough.

There was this weird stigma that if adult men wanted to work with babies and toddlers then that made them a pedophile or something of the sort. That wasn’t the case with Harry. His minor in school was psychology because cognitive development intrigued him. He also loved babies and little ones. He loved watching them learn and discover.

Only now, he was without a job in an already struggling field. He and the other employees weren’t exactly given a big notice before they were told the business was going under. Harry mostly felt bad for the parents of the kids that had to find new child care centers. He knew he’d have to compete with his co-workers for any available jobs, and he knew they were bound to find places before him because they were women. It was their fault, and he knew it. He was experiencing a prejudice that they must face all the time.

He looked into Care.com, but none of the jobs on there seemed like long-term gigs, and he didn’t want to just be a glorified baby sitter. He figured if he could find a well paying nannying job, he could do that for a bit until finding a job at a new facility, or even set up his dream pre-school. During his search on Indeed, he saw a position for a live-in nanny – jackpot! Live-in meant long-term, and long-term meant lots of money. It also meant he could get rid of his apartment and not have to pay rent for a while. He clicked on the ad that was posted only a couple of weeks ago.

Live-in Nanny Needed for Help with Eight-Month-Old

Minimum requirements:

· Bachelor’s in either early childhood education or elementary education

· At least two years’ experience working babies/children

Three professional references required

Applicant is subject to thorough background check for the safety of the child and mother.

Other tasks as needed include:

· Cooking

· Light cleaning

· Grocery shopping/running other errands

If applicant is selected, they will be paid a flat rate of $1600 bi-weekly, will live in “in-law” section of the house, and a car will be provided for them. A resume, cover letter, and three professional references may be sent directly to [email protected]

After reading everything over, this seemed like Harry’s best bet. Some of it seemed a little too good to be true, but this was a risk he needed to take right now. He just hoped the position hadn’t already been filled. That night he spent some time updating his LinkedIn, making sure all of his privacy settings were up to date on all of his social media, and then wrote out a resume and cover letter. The last part was his least favorite because he knew a proper resume and cover letter had to be curated to the specific job, and it made things all the more tedious. By the time he was done, it was late. He didn’t want to seem unprofessional, so he waited to send the email until the next morning.

Subject: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Good morning,

My name is Harry and I’m interested in the nannying advert you’ve posted on Indeed. For the last four years I’ve been working at P.B. & J.’s Child Care Center, and was recently promoted to team lead. Unfortunately, the business itself couldn’t remain afloat, and I was laid off.

Attached are my resume and cover letter. I’d be happy to provide the three references if I end up being considered for the position.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Harry

Treat People With Kindness

He closes his laptop with a satisfied sigh after proofreading his email ten different times before he hit send. He takes a sip from his coffee, and sits back on his sofa. Now all he had to do was wait.

There was radio silence for two days. Harry was starting to think he would need to keep job hunting. He had bills to pay, and the last thing he wanted to do was ask his parents for help. They already looked down on his profession as it was. If he had his own car he’d become an uber driver or something, but he didn’t so he couldn’t. Then, by some stroke of luck, at 4:55PM on a Thursday, he gets an email from the address he had been hoping to see pop up.

Subject: Re: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Good evening Harry,

My name is Jane Watson, thank you so much for your application. My apologies it has taken me a couple of days to get back to you. I am usually more responsive, but things have been a little crazy at work as of late. Upon further review of your resume and over letter, I would like to offer you an interview this Saturday at noon, if you are available. I can be flexible if that day and time do not work for you.

If you are able to come, and are still interested in the position, I ask that you please bring your references with you. I will want to call them right away. I am sure you can understand me wanting to thoroughly look into you before letting you into my daughter’s life.

I look forward to hearing back from you soon.

All my best,

Jane

Harry responded to her right away, he didn’t care how eager he seemed. He told her Saturday at noon worked great, and that he would definitely have his references, and anything else he needed to provide. She emailed him back an hour or so later with her cell phone number and address. For the first time in a while, Harry felt like he could breathe again. He knew it wasn’t a done deal that he’d be getting the job, but he was being given a chance, and for that he was thankful.

He wanted to make a good first impression on Saturday, so he made sure to wash his hair in the shower, and use his good mousse so his hair would look more orderly. He shaved to give himself that clean and sleek look, this was not a day to appear scruffy. He knew he didn’t need to be overly dressed up, but he also knew that you’re supposed to dress for the job you want and not the job you have. He irons a pair of tan slacks and pairs it with a blue button up. Not to brag, but his bum looked great in these slacks, and it was giving him all the confidence in the world. He puts on a floral tie, just to show a bit of his personality, makes sure his nail polish isn’t chipped, and makes sure all of his rings are looking shiny. He takes an uber out to Jane’s house. It was in a gated community, which he was expecting since he looked up the house beforehand. He wondered what she or her husband did for work to live in a place like this. Or perhaps she inherited the home? Either way, he was excited.

He thanks the driver, and knocks on the door as he was instructed to do. A woman with silver hair that was up in a nice bun opens the door.

“Hello, you must be Mr. Styles.” She smiles.

“Yes, hello.” He smiles back.

“I’m MaryAnne, please come in.” She steps aside to let Harry in.

“Thank you.”

“Miss Watson is just pumping, but you can wait for her here in her office.” She leads Harry down a corridor where he meets a grand double door. MaryAnne opens them and shows him inside. “Make yourself comfortable, dear. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?”

“I’m all set, but thank you very much.”

The woman nods and leaves him in the room alone. He stays standing as he didn’t want to assume where he should be sitting. There was a gorgeous desk with two chairs on the other side, but there was also a small round table with four chairs around it in the corner. She clearly held a lot of meetings here, or so it would seem. To pass the time he looks over her bookshelves, scanning over what she might be into. She seemed to be into fiction, but he had never heard of any of the books on some of the shelves, or the author. She had several by the same person. Before he could look further, he heard the clacking of heels on the hardwood floors approaching him.

Everything stopped when she walked in. Jane had her hair up in a flowing ponytail, a white blouse covered her top half, he notices that the first few buttons were left undone, probably to help with her pumping, and she had a black pencil skirt on that just came to her knees. She was short, and a little voluptuous, not that Harry was checking her out.

“Hello, Mr. Styles, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” He goes to stick his hand out for her to shake, but she walks around him and sits down at her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

He swallows and sits down.

“Y-you can just call me Harry if you like, Mrs. Watson.”

“I’m a Miss not a missus.” She says as she takes out a folder with a few sheets in it and a pen. “It says here you graduated Summa Cum Laude from Lesley University. That’s an incredible place to get a degree in education.”

“Thank you, I got a pretty decent scholarship, it was my reach school. I minored in psychology as well. I did my practicum hours at a daycare center that specialized in caring for children with disabilities. So, I’ve worked with all sorts of children. I prefer working with infants and toddlers, though.”

“And why is that?” She looks at him, clicking her pen, ready to take notes.

“Well, I just have more fun with them, to be honest. I like watching them discover new things. My favorite thing to do while working in the baby room at my last job was working with the babies on their tummy times. It was always rewarding to watch them get stronger. I feel like I just bond with them better.”

“I need to ask you some personal questions since this is a live-in position.”

“Of course.” Harry nods.

“Are you in any sort of relationship with anyone?”

“No, I’m single.”

“Have you ever been arrested, or do you have any sort of criminal history?”

“No.”

“I’m not one to judge, I think everyone deserves a second chance, I just have to ask these sort of things.” She says.

“I don’t have a criminal record, Miss Watson.”

“History of drug use?”

“I smoked a bit of weed when I was younger, but I don’t anymore. An edible once in a while, maybe, but never when I’m on the clock.”

“Just marijuana?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, but nothing other than that. Stupid kid stuff.”

“Again, not judging. I’d prefer you don’t have any drugs in the house, unless they’re for medical use. I know edibles can be prescribed by doctors for anxiety and whatnot.” Harry nods at that. “What about alcohol? You’re twenty-six, you must enjoy a drink after a long day.”

“A glass of red once in a while, sure.” He nods. “But I’m not really a heavy drinker, I never have been. I’d say if anything I’m a social drinker, but you watch me carefully at a party you’ll notice that I nurse the same drink.” He smirks.

“I’m the same way. A little bit of a buzz is fun, but anything more can be a bit scary. I actually cannot remember the last time I had a real drink.” She looks off in thought.

“Well, can’t you drink now that the baby’s here?”

“And have to succumb to a pump and dump?” She scoffs. “No way, that would be a total waste. It’s torture enough to sit there while a machine sucks the milk out of my-“ She stops herself. “Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Anyways, your resume was impressive, and you were quite articulate in your cover letter. You’re the only candidate I’ve invited for an interview.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She nods. “I really wanted someone with experience, not someone fresh out of college looking for a place to live. You’d really be okay with living here?”

“Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor. My long-term goal is to either have a daycare or pre-school of my own someday. Not having to pay rent for a while would really help me save up for that.”

“That’s an incredible goal to have, Harry.” She smiles, impressed by his ambition. “What questions do you have for me?”

“I just want to clarify, your daughter is eight months?” Jane nods. “And what’s her name?”

“Lilly.” Jane smiles.

“That’s a beautiful name.” Harry smiles. “Why exactly do you need a live-in nanny?”

“I work a lot.” She sighs. “And I’m a single mom. I want her to always have someone here that she can depend on and feel comfortable with. Sometimes my work drags me out in the middle of the night, or I have to take a phone call at an odd hour. I just want someone else here in case I can’t be if something comes up.”

“So, her father’s not in the picture?”

“No.” Her features sour a bit. “He doesn’t even know she exists to be perfectly honest with you. I found out I was pregnant after we broke up, and I decided not to tell him about her. He was a deadbeat moocher, he would have been useless.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but thank you for telling me. May I ask, how old are you?”

“Twenty-nine, does that matter?”

“No! No, I was just more so curious. You seem pretty successful to be in a home like this. In the advert, you stated I’d be given a car as well, that’s not exactly cheap.”

“You’ll be given access to one of my cars.” She says. “I’m not giving you a car, make no mistake about that.” She smirks. “I’m an author, a successful one.” Harry tries to think if he’s ever heard of a Jane Watson before, but he’s coming up blank. “You’ve never heard of me because I have a pen name. If it’s all the same, I don’t really want to share it with you. Not yet, anyways.”

“Sure…wait…are you offering me the job?”

“Not quite. I’d like you to meet my daughter. I want to see how she interacts with you.”

“I’d love to meet Lilly.” He smiles.

“Great, before we do that, do you have more questions?”

“Yes, who’s MaryAnne? Is she, like, a maid or housekeeper?”

“No.” Jane laughs. “She’s my personal assistant. I usually answer the door myself, but pumping took a bit longer than usual.”

“When did you publish your first work?”

“When I was twenty.” She smiles. “I was still in school, and I decided just to self-publish. It took off, and a few companies reached out to me. I eventually got an agent, and the rest was history. I’m a fast writer, I’m able to churn out more projects than most people, and for whatever reason they keep becoming hits. One of the reasons I travel a lot is that a couple of my works are being turned into television shows, and working out those contracts is a lot. I want to be a part of the process to make sure the stories are told correctly.”

“That’s incredible!”

“it is.” She nods. “I never thought I’d be a television producer, but here I am. I don’t really want Lilly around all that, so there’s another reason for having a live-in nanny.”

“This may seem like a silly question, but will I have time off?”

“Oh my goodness, of course! The salary is negotiable as well. You’ll have weekends off, as well as all bank and national holidays. You’ll also earn vacation time and sick leave like at any other job. You’ll be given a benefits package as well, if you need health insurance.”

“You…you provide stuff like that?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I’ve just never heard of a nannying job quite like this before.” He blinks. “It feels too good to be true.”

“I’m just a firm believer in compensating someone properly. I believe in investing in the people you have.”

“Right.” He swallows. He almost starting to feel like he was going to be her sugar baby or something, but he obviously knew that wasn’t the case. “You asked me about my dating life, what about yours?”

“I’m also single. Lilly is my top priority, and then comes my work. I’m completely fulfilled as is.” She stands from her desk. “Come, I’ll give you a tour of the house, and of the in-law space, and then you can meet Lilly.”

“Okay.” He stands up and follows her out of the office.

She shows him the living room, which felt more like a study. There was an entertainment room with a huge flat screen, deluxe loungers, a pool table, and bar. She shows him to the kitchen which was equally as extravagant. She brings him upstairs to show him all of the bedrooms.

“This is Lilly’s room.” Jane says proudly.

“it’s beautiful, I love the light purple.”

“So do I.” She says. “My room is down the hall, don’t think you need a tour of that.” She laughs and they head back downstairs. “Here’s the inside entrance to the in-law, but there’s also an exterior entrance you can use…or if you have guests over.” Harry’s in awe of the space. It was larger than his apartment. “It’s a one bedroom flat essentially. There’s a full bath en suite, and there’s a half bath over there. Open concept kitchen and living area. It’s fully furnished as well. Feel free to decorate it however you like. I just ask that this space stays yours. There’s really no reason for you to bring Lilly in here, you know?”

“Sure, yeah. This is amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it. Let’s just hope Lilly like you.” Jane smirks, and they head back to the main part of the house, and into Lilly’s playroom. She was sitting with MaryAnne in a large rocking chair. “M, you can feel free to go back to your office if you like. Harry’s going to get acquainted with Lilly.”

“Of course.” MaryAnne stands up with the baby, and hands her over to Jane.

“She has an office here too?” Harry asks.

“Of course she does, and one of the guest rooms upstairs is hers to use when she needs it.” She kisses the top of her daughter’s head. “Lilly,” she coos, “I have someone I’d like you to meet.” She gestures for Harry to take her, and he happily does so.

“Hey, baby girl.” Harry coos. Bright hazel eyes look up at him in wonder. He lets her latch onto his index finger. “It’s so nice to meet you.” He looks at Jane. “She’s precious, Miss Watson.”

“Isn’t she?” Jane beams. “She’s really been enjoying her bouncy, and messing around with her blocks. I have some CD’s I like having her listen to as well. Oh! We did a paint with pudding night as a sensory play thing, it was a hoot.” She chuckles.

“Those are great, aren’t they? Very stimulating, and it teaches the child that sometimes messes are okay.” He looks down at Lilly and smiles. “May I sit with her in the rocking chair?”

“Please!” She gestures to it, and she sits down on the loveseat in the room. Harry sits down with Lilly, cradling her carefully. He adjusts her so she’s able to stand on his lap. She bounces herself and giggles. “Look at that!” Jane exclaims. “I love it when she does that.”

“She’s awfully sweet.” Harry smiles, and then he looks at Jane. “How much do you feed her?”

“I give her roughly twenty-four to thirty-two ounces a day. You’ll know how hungry she is or isn’t in the moment. I’ve started giving her pureed butternut squash, mashed bananas and strawberries, she’s got that puffed baby cereal as well. I’ve also started giving her ground chicken in really small doses just to get her some protein, but right now I’ve mostly been sticking to fruits and veggies. You must know a lot about what foods to give a baby?”

“I do.” He nods. “You’re still producing that much milk to give her daily?”

“I’ve almost been wishing I’d dry up. I get so sore somedays.” Jane sighs. “But I figure it’s good for her to have it while I can still make it. I’m not opposed to formular or anything…but I like bonding with her in that way. I got rid of her baby acne by rubbing my nipple on her skin, it was like magic.”

“It’s certainly a trick of the trade.” He smirks at her. “I remember learning that in one of my courses, and I was amazed. You all are super humans.”

Jane watches Harry play on the ground with Lilly for a bit. Harry was already so wonderful with her. Harry starts to smell something, and so does Jane.

“Think it’s time for a diaper change.” He chuckles and picks her up. “Would you like me to change her?”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you do it.”

He brings Lilly over to the changing table, and lays her down.

“I know you’re all warm and cozy, but I need to disrupt that for a moment.” He says to the baby girl who was babbling and blowing little spit bubbles, totally unbothered. Harry unsnaps her onesie, and lifts her legs to detach the diaper. His eyes widen at the type of diaper that’s on her. “You cloth diaper?” He looks at Jane.

“It’s better for the environment.” She shrugs. “There’s a trashcan for the…um, poop, and there’s another can for the diapers. I give her a regular diaper for bedtime just because it’s easier to change her in the middle of the night and in the morning, but daytime I use the cloth diapers.”

“Makes sense to me.” Harry disposes of everything, and grabs a few wipes to clean Lilly up. She took a powerful stinky.

“I blame it on the pureed peas.” Jane laughs.

“It doesn’t even phase me anymore, honestly.” Harry says as he gets a little baby powder on her. He grabs a spare cloth diaper, and gets it on her. He snaps her onesie back together and lifts her up. “There we go, good as new, darling girl.” Lilly blows some bubbles at Harry, and blows some back, making her giggle. Jane beams at the two of them.

“It’s about time for her afternoon nap. Would you like to put her down?”

“I’d love to.”

Harry carries Lilly upstairs with Jane. She flips on Lilly’s white noise machine, and makes sure her favorite blankies are in the crib. Harry sits down in the large chair in the corner of the room and starts to rock her gently, giving her soothing rubs. Jane watches as Lilly’s eyelids start to droop. She fights it at first, but Harry continues to soothe her until she’s out like a light. He carefully stands up and sets her down into her crib. The two back out of the room quietly, and make their way down the stairs.

“Let’s go back to my office.” Jane says, and Harry follows her there. Once they’re both seated, she starts speaking again. “Well, the job is yours if you want it.”

“Really?” Harry felt every worry from his life leave his body.

“Yes.” She chuckles. “You’ve really impressed me, and I think Lilly’s quite taken with you already. I’d love to have you as her nanny.” She takes out a few forms. “May I have your references? The background check will take about a week. How soon could you start after that?”

“Right away, honestly.” He hands her a sheet with his references.

“Here are the tax forms you’ll need to fill out, a form for direct deposit, and some information on your benefits. You can get everything back to me by the end of next week.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, I’m so excited. I can’t wait to get started, Miss Watson.” He stands to shake her hand, and she stands as she takes it.

“Please, you can call me Jane.”

#love's divine #love's divine part one #call me jane #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #nanny!Harry #nanny!H #nannerry

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byrachel · 3 years

Text

JACOB BLACK CURSED FATE

Word count: 2512

Summary: In an attempt to fix their relationship, everything falls apart

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, emotional cheating, jealousy, unhealthy relationship

note: Thank you @tyb1 for giving me an amazing idea to experiment with. This was also loosely inspired by this imagine by @imaginingmanyfandoms (with their permission!) Please check both of them out!

You swatted away the lingering fly, which had been testing your patience the whole day, from the freshly set table. You didn’t want anything ruining your mood that day and if you had the same accuracy your boyfriend had when it came to killing flies, it would’ve been smashed against one of your counters the second you had seen it flying around. Losing the buzzing creature from your sight, you stepped away from your kitchen table to take in the view. Perfect, you thought with a satisfied smile, quietly praising yourself.

After months of barely seeing your boyfriend and living with each other like you were roommates, you found it was time to find that spark you once felt by having his favorite meal and desert. You wanted to create a comfortable scenery to discuss your concerns with Jacob and was more than positive about the outcome. He was always willing to listen and work on himself together with you when it came to problems you were having.

With a lighthearted sigh you grabbed your phone from the edge of the table. Your notification centre showed a few unimportant emails waiting to be deleted from your inbox, instead of the text you were waiting for. You looked at the time above the notifications. 7:23 pm. He wasn’t supposed to be home for a while and him not responding to your texts probably meant patrolling just took longer. You pushed down that icky feeling at the pit of your stomach and decided to dress up with the time you still had. You didn’t want to wear anything over the top in your own kitchen, but something cute enough for Jacob to see you were trying to look nice for him.

Taking your time to take a shower, do your hair and put together an outfit you were pleased with, you were expecting Jacob to walk into your home at any given moment then, but even when you returned to the kitchen there was still no sign of him. This time you looked up at the analog clock hanging from one of your kitchen walls. 8:41 pm.

With a forced smile you tried to contain the excitement you had been feeling the whole day as you got a pack of lucifers to light the candle in the middle of the table. Once the candle held onto the flame, you looked over your shoulder at the food on the stove while you waved with the lucifer in your hand, before it had the chance to burn all the way down to your fingers. You wanted Jacob to come home to a prepared plate but the moment you heard the fly buzzing around your living room you stopped yourself. You weren’t in the mood to keep that thing away from the food so you were just going to wait until he got home.

You sat down at the kitchen table, grabbing your phone once again. Maybe he responded. Lightly tapping your screen, your notification centre popped up, but there still was no text. Out of curiosity you checked your messages, going into your conversation with Jacob.

‘You still going to be home by 8:30?’

You sighed looking at the delivered stamp underneath your text, but decided to give him more time. He was barely ten minutes late and it wasn’t unusual with the recent supernatural activity in the area so you just had to keep your excitement at bay a little longer.

Time ticked by slowly, ten minutes turning into thirty, half an hour turning into an hour as you impatiently bounced on your legs, soft thumbs filling the silent kitchen. You were leaning against the kitchen counter, looking down at the game on your phone to kill time, but with each passing second your worries were starting to grow excessively.

When the clock hit 10:30 pm you decided to call him, the phone icon next to his caller id waiting to be pressed by your hovering thumb. But before you could put your phone up to your ear, your call went straight to his voicemail. Your heart jumped, your sudden rising heartbeat ringing in your ears from worry.

His phone has never been turned off before. Why is his phone turned off?

You exhaled audibly, automatically going to your contacts to find Quil’s number while you nibbled on your thumbnail. If your memory didn’t do you wrong, you were almost certain they were patrolling together. He would know where Jacob was. Again, you tapped on the phone icon as your hand rested against your neck, feeling your rapid heartbeat.

You looked up at the ceiling, briefly closing your eyes as you forced yourself to stay calm. In and out, you told yourself, inhaling and exhaling deeply to keep yourself from having gruesome intrusive thoughts of things that could’ve gone wrong while you impatiently waited for your boyfriend’s best friend to pick up his phone.

“Hey, (Y/N). What’s up?” Quil’s neutral voice sent you into relaxation, your eyes shooting open and bending your head back down to its original state. His calm tone was enough to let you know nothing happened on their patrol.

“Hey, Quil.” Your voice was slightly shaken up from the brief panic, but hoping he wouldn’t notice you tried to make it less obvious. “I’m looking for Jake, is he with you?”

“Not anymore.” He answered. “Lin called him earlier. I’m guessing something happened, because Jake left right after, but he didn’t say what though.”

Lin. Of course he was with Lin.

The itch you were trying to keep down suddenly became uncontrollable. The anger, resentment and hurt you thought you had pushed down months ago bubbled up without a warning, making you bite your tongue to keep your composure towards Quil. As far as you knew he didn’t know about the arguments and fights she had caused in your relationship, how many times you threatened to leave Jacob because of her presence and how many nights you had banned Jacob from your bedroom so you could silently cry into your pillow, knowing he was listening to the pathetic muffled sobs from the couch in the living room.

“(Y/N)?” A different voice called out from the living room as you heard the click of the closing front door. “I’m home.”

“Thanks, Quil.” You said, snapping out of your silent rage, remembering your boyfriend’s best friend was at the other side of the line. “He actually just came home.”

“Anytime.” Quil responded unknowing of what he had just caused, before you exchanged goodbyes with him and hung up the phone. You slowly placed it back down on the table and shook your head in disbelief, pushing yourself away from the kitchen counter to meet Jacob in the living room.

“Hey, what did you make?” Your clueless boyfriend commented, briefly turning his head over his shoulder to watch you stand in the kitchen’s doorway, his back turned to you as he put his jacket away. “It smells good.”

“Where were you, Jacob?” Your voice was icingly calm as you ignored his question, his name feeling foreign in your mouth. It was always Jake, not Jacob so using his full name for the first time in months made sure he knew how badly he had fucked up. You knew where he had been and that simple question was enough to let him know there was no use in lying.

It was like he freezed up for a split second before he turned to face you, looking like a deer caught in headlights. You didn’t know why you were even giving him the room to answer, there was no way he could talk himself out of this. His mouth was agape, his lips moving slightly but there were no words coming out.

“Spit it out. Where were you?” You repeated, your voice slightly raising this time.

“Babe, I can explain--”

“Explain?” You interrupted him as a humourless chuckle fell from your lips. You softly pinched the skin between your eyebrows, your eyes fluttering closed. Your patience was thin, your head full of different voices telling you what to do in your rage, but you weren’t sure what voice to give in to. “Explain what? That you basically ditched me to be with Lin when I explicitly told you I wanted to have one night, just one night, to have your undivided attention.”

“I know I messed up, but you know I wouldn’t do it without a well enough reason.” Jake sounded distraught and without looking up you could tell he was panicking. “Just hear me out, okay?”

You pulled your hand away from your face, opening your eyes to look at the man who was suddenly standing much closer than he was before in an attempt to close the space between you. If he came any closer you were sure you would’ve backed away, but he knew better than to try to touch you when you were livid. It was a mistake he made before, but surely wouldn’t do again.

“She needed someone to talk to.” He started off, making you scoff. It was something you heard a dozen times before. “This is the first time she has been without her daughter for this long and it’s just hard on her.”

“It still surprises me you don’t see what she’s doing. She has enough friends to call. She’s using you, Jacob. Using you.” You narrowed your eyes in disbelief and used your hands to emphasize your point. “She only has to breathe differently and you’re there, she just likes the attention you’re giving her, because no one else will.”

“I don’t think she’s using me.” Jacob disagreed with a sigh. “But I also know you wouldn’t get me giving into it. As much I know you hate it, I have to be there for her, (Y/N). We’ve talked about the imprinting, it’s not a choice.”

Was he seriously defending what she was doing?

“And we’ve also talked about boundaries.” You snarled back at him. “You can be there for her without ignoring our relationship. You promised me we would come first no matter who your imprint was going to be.”

He nodded in agreement. “And we still come first, but like I said I also have to be there for her when she needs me. She might not be my top priority, but I can’t ignore Lin’s needs either, that’s just the bond.”

“Just the bond.” You repeated with a chuckle, your eyes prickling with tears as the sudden realization seeped in.

Nothing was more important to him than that damned forced bond and the longer you listened to him the clearer it became. You hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but looking back you couldn’t believe how stupid you were for believing the words of a man who hadn’t experienced something so intense before. ‘I don’t care who she is, you’re the one for me’ was what he said when you finally communicated your worries weeks after he had imprinted on her. You wished you had listened to the insecurity lingering at the back of your head when you had seen the relationships between Sam and Emily, Jared and Kim and every other pack member who had ended up with their imprint.

Why would I be naïve enough to think it would be any different for Jacob when he finally imprinted on someone?

“Baby, don’t cry.” He finally tried to narrow the space between your bodies to comfort you, but as you snapped out of your thoughts you flinched away from him. His comfort was the last thing you wanted.

Just then his words registered and you noticed the tears staining your cheeks. You quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand. “You don’t even see you’re in love with her, do you?” You looked up at his pained expression. You might don’t like being touched when you were mad, but you had never backed away from him when you were crying before.

“I’m not, I swear.” He answered hurriedly.

“You’re lying to yourself.” You shook your head, wiping your nose with your hand. “You dropped everything to be there for her when I needed you here. Again.”

Without waiting for a response, you were headed to your shared bedroom, Jacob’s footsteps closely behind you. You wanted to get away from him as far as possible, there was no way you were staying in the same house together. You didn’t feel like suffocating on your own again.

“Baby, (Y/N).” Jacob called out to you, hopelessly following you as you marched into your shared bedroom, diving straight into your closet to grab a suitcase. “What are you doing?”

You placed it on the bed, zipping it open as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your sight. When you turned back to your closet to grab a bunch of clothes, not even thinking of all the things you actually needed if you were going to stay away for a while, Jacob finally managed to get his hands on you. He held your wrists, not tight enough to hurt you, but with just enough force to keep you from moving. “Hey, don’t go, okay? Please. I want to fix this.”

“How? It’s not a choice, remember?” You avoided his gaze, looking down at the floor. Your body was trembling from the anxiety and all the mixed emotions coming out were making you sick to your stomach. You truly felt like throwing up. “How did you even want to start a family with me if I can’t even be your first choice, hm? I’m not putting my child through that.”

“(Y/N), don’t tell me. . .” Jacob’s eyes widened. When you told him you wanted to talk this morning he could tell you were excited, but he brushed it off like the idiot he was. All the signs were there and when it fell silent for a moment, he finally understood why tonight was so important to you.

“I’m pregnant.” You felt your arms slipping from his grip as you looked up at his blank expression. You pulled your hands away to dry the tears dripping from your face. “And I wanted to do things differently for our baby than our parents did, I wanted them to grow up with both of us there.”

“And they will.” His glinstering eyes and watery smile stared at you as he brought his hands up to your cheeks, softly caressing the sides of your face with his thumbs and placing his forehead against yours. You let him. “Just let me fix this. I’ll do anything for you-- both of you.”

As much as you wanted to believe what he said, you knew it was only a matter of time before he went running to Lin when she needed him again. He could treat you badly all he wanted, but you refused to let your child grow up feeling unwanted the way you did.

“No.” You whispered back to him, pulling your face away from his grip. “I’m done.”

masterlist | not edited

note: If you can’t tell I’m bad at endings and writing angst, but I hope you enjoyed it either way. Please let me know what you think so I know how I could improve or if you liked it!

#thaliawritesx #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight wolf pack #twilight wolf pack imagine #wolf pack imagines #twilight wolves #jacob black #jacob black imagine #jacob black fluff #jacob black x reader

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winter-fox-queen · 3 years

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The Gentry’s Gifts: Max Phillips

Hello! This is sort of a sequel to the Pero story, in that we saw Max and now we know what he was doing there and what choice he needed to make.

Warnings: Cursing. Angst. I had the trick of having to put both blank canvas characters into one story, lol. But I think I finessed it. The “you” character is a blank slate, mostly gender neutral (mentions of wanting to have children could sway your perception one way or the other.). Not betad.

This is my late #writerwednesday entry, thank you to @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape

Prologue:

Max Phillips slammed the hospital doors open, eager to get outside. The sound beeping machines seemed to echo in his ears, making them hurt. The smell of the place stuck to the back of his throat.

He tilted his head back in the afternoon sun, and breathed in, breathed out. Tried to make himself calm down. The Autumn are cleared his head as he jogged across the road.

“Bad day?” A voice asked.

Between two benches, almost hidden in the orange leaves, was a woman, instead of the ‘Nam veteran he usually passed a few moments talking to. Her wiry steel colored hair was in a messy bun, covered by a turban. She wore layers and layers even though it was a warm fall day. “Where’s Raffi?” Max asked.

“His daughter found him. He decided to try living with her again.”

Max nodded. “I hope it works out. She wasn’t…apparently he isn’t easy to live with. Bad dreams.”

“It’ll be better now.” She said with such serene certainty that Max believed her. He gave a little wave and walked away.

He was back, twenty minutes later. He put a chocolate shake in front of her, and a boxed fried chicken meal. If he had known his folklore…which, sadly, he would become intimately familiar with, he would have understood her amusement. Milk, bread…these were the Old offerings.

Instead he shrugged, uncomfortable. “What? I figure everyone likes chocolate. And I needed to eat, too.” He sat next to her.

“How old are you?” She asked, though she knew.

He shrugged. “Seventeen.” He buttered a biscuit and took a huge bite. He ate like he was starving. “Why?”

“You seem to be awfully young to be hanging out with homeless people. Where are your parents?”

He shrugged again. “My mom’s gone. My father…”. He pointed towards the hospital doors with his chin. “He’s dying.” He hunched over the greasy box of chicken, potato strips and biscuits, eating like it was the only thing keeping him sane.

She sighed.

He looked at her, and she shook her head, and ate the food he brought her. You are going to go off the rails Max Phillips. You are going to go off the rails so badly and there’s nothing I can do about it.

The Present:

He entered the library through the basement, crept up the stairway. The first floor was nearly empty…the university library kept late hours so that students could cram late into the night, but it was Thirsty Thursday and most of the students were elsewhere.

He waited until you were focused on the book cart again, back towards the main floor, and got himself around the corner. Then he pulled out his cell and dialed the front desk.

You now turned to go to the phone, at least he hoped so, as he disconnected the call and opened the side door to the area behind the circulation desk…

You were there, leaning against the cart, arms folded. “Nice try, but I know your tricks, Mister Phillips.”

He grinned and advanced on her, step by step.

“No no…”. You point a finger at him. “Stay back, this is a work place…”. You shoot a look towards the front desk as he backs you into your office. “You are going to lose me my job.” You hiss at him, and he bends a little, and kisses you breathless.

“Quit. I’ll take care of you.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders. He’s cool to the touch. It’s not disconcerting, not like it used to be. “I wish I could.”

“Stop wishing...”

“If you say ‘and make your dreams a reality’, I’ll bite you.”

Max looks offended. “It’s a great slogan! Do you know how many units of Losapill those golden words have sold?”

“I don’t understand how I can love someone so much and want to punch them so badly.”

He grins down at you. “I can name several reasons why you love me.”

You smirk up at him. “I’m sure you can…let me go, honey. I’ve got to tell everyone we’re closing in half an hour.” He listened to your voice on the loudspeaker, buttery and gentle and reassuring, and smiled a little. He could listen to that voice forever. He could sell holy water to a priest, but so far all his skills had failed to net him the one thing he wanted.

He walks with you, as you check the restrooms (He even does the men’s for you on each floor, turning off the lights and blocking the doors open) and stands behind you, hands in his pockets, looking gloomy as you gently tell students to take their books to the front desk if they needed to check them out, that the library was closing shortly.

He waits, patiently, while you close up and lock the doors and usher the last people out.

“I really wish you’d let me turn you,” he says when you are both in your car and on the way home. Max often took the rooftops from his office to the university. He was fast, and strong, and being fairly indestructible made him long for the thrill of possibly getting hurt, so he parkoured his way through the city once it got dark. It was disgusting, how he looked so good after running and leaping five miles.

He shifts in his seat as you let the silence grow. “Are you ignoring me?”

“Yes.” You stop at a red light.

“Why? You said you’d think about it. You’ve been thinking about it for a month. Any idea where you are on it? Like, from the scale of one to ten…”

You’ve been wanting to avoid this. You’ve really been wanting to avoid this. “Zero.”

She waits. She waits for the torrent of salesmanship. The spiel. Why becoming a vampire and living forever is what she wants, she just doesn’t know it’s yet.

For once, words fail him. No quick comeback, no charming lines. “I can’t believe you don’t want to be with me.” He says it so softly that you almost aren’t sure you heard it.

You pull into the apartment parking lot, picks a spot quickly you can park and take his hands in yours. “Max. I do. I really do. But just…I don’t want to be a vampire. I don’t want to give up the things I would have to give up?”

“Like what? Death? Getting old? Getting sick? Being weak?” He pulls his hands away. “I am offering you unlimited time. Think of the things we can do together! And you don’t have to kill…I haven't killed anyone in ages!”

“Sunlight.” You say. “Food.” He makes a disgusted sound and looks out the window. “A family.” You take a deep breath. “Children.”

He finally looks at you again. “Then I won’t waste any more of your time.” He raises his hand, and time goes wonky for a moment, and when things snap back into place, he’s gone.

You stay in your car a long time, hoping he’ll come back. Every step up to your apartment, you look around, hoping.

It’s dawn, before you give up, dried out from crying, your mouth feels full of ashes and your heart full of regret.

The next day:

Max was not in a good mood the next day. Usually he has a nice word for, if no one else, his PA, a miracle worker of a woman he’d always been fond of, but he just glared at her and slams his door shut.

Emails. Reports. He plowed into work.

The door opened, and he ignored it, steadfast in the hope that whoever it was would go the fuck away. I could always eat them. I don’t have to be good anymore.

A cup thumped down on his desk. He looked up. He didn’t recognize the woman — her steel grey hair was neat, her suit elegant. Her heart beat strangely, and he could tell she was not — quite—human. Great. Someone new from corporate?

“I thought you said that everyone loves chocolate?” She said, pointing at the milkshake. “You’ve come far, since we last spoke outside the hospital…”

He shook his head. “I remember you, but…”. How did she come to be here? Why? His brain was still trying to match up the homeless lady with the epitome of corporate flash in front of him.

“Now, I didn’t say you moved in a good direction. How did the sweet boy who spent his last twenty on dinner for himself and a homeless woman end up being a bloodsucking asshole selling fake products?”

“It’s a long story. Let’s schedule an appointment, maybe for the next century?”

“Nope.” She reached across the desk. “You gonna drink this?”

He shook his head and she took the milkshake, leaned back in her chair, moving the straw back and forth in the lid, making an annoying shriek sound that hurt his ears.

“Do you think I wanted this?” He snapped at her. Vampires didn’t really need much in the way of sleep, but he was tired. Tired and hurt. “And who gives you the right to fucking judge me?”

“I’m one of the gentry,” she said. “That doesn’t give me the right, but it gives me the power.”

“You’re fae. That explains it. You don’t seem human.”

“I thought they taught you the rules. You never call us out so clearly. Always call us by some euphemism and hope we don’t take a notion to turn our attention towards you.”

He threw up his hands. “Why? Why does it matter?”

“Because if I wanted to, Max Phillips, I could turn you back into the weak, dying, foolish mortal you once were.”

This stopped him. “You could?” He said carefully.

“I could.”

“What’s the catch?”

She smiled. “Good boy. Maybe they did teach you something, after all.” She put the milkshake on the desk. ”You were…what? Twenty, twenty one when you got turned? I could, if I wanted to, make it as if you never got turned. I could choose for you to age to the age you should be, had you not cheated death…or I could make you start from where you are right now. If I was feeling so inclined.”

“Why would I want that?” He scoffed. “Do you think I want to get old and sick? Do you think I want to spend the last year of my life in a hospital bed, unable to even piss for myself? You think this is a fucking gift? Enticing? No.”

“So you don’t want a life with the librarian? Probably for the best. She is made out of sunlight and deserves so much better.”

He stopped. He could feel the slipping…where the darker side of him started clambering up, eager to take control and rend and kill.

“Hush.” She said, and the blood stopped rushing in his ears, the fangs stopped aching. “I shouldn’t needle. It’s just so frustrating. You were a sweet boy and you just allowed the bad in your life to make you…well, frankly, a bit of a jackass.” She shoot him an apologetic look. “OK, that was a cruddy apology. But. Back to the subject at hand. Once, you were kind to me. And if you do me a favor — one more favor — I will give you a choice. A chance to choose a life for yourself instead of being a victim of bad choices and worse luck. No strings. No further price.”

He side eyed her a long moment. He was intrigued, despite himself. “What’s the favor?”

She took a small painting out of her pocket and slid it over to him. “Another debt to pay…that woman has a soul mate out there. I know where he is. If you get her to my house tomorrow night, I can unite them, give them a chance at well deserved happiness.”

“Yeuch.” He said, then picked up the painting. “Wait. That’s my PA.”

“Is it? How delightful. Isn’t just splendid how fate intervenes.” She put a card on the desk. “This is the address. Hope to see you.” She held up her finger. “There is one thing. She can’t know. You have to get her there without her knowing why. Alright?”

“Don’t hold your breath.” He muttered.

“Good. I am glad you understand. Ciao!”

He picked up the card. And cursed a bit.

NIght, in the time middle of nowhere:

“So, Mister Phillips…are you taking me out into the middle of the woods to murder me?” His PA asked, laughing. She didn’t know he was a vampire. Telling people what he was hadn’t worked out very well at his last job, so he’d been much more circumspect this time.

“I promise, you are safe. From me. I don’t know what Corporate will do, though,” he said, turning down another road.

“So, did they tell you what the meeting is about?”

“It’s meant to be a retreat. All the heads of the various branches and their PA’s. They want to re-envision the future of the company”. He took one hand off the wheel to put air quotes in the right place. “Apparently they messed up your email address so we didn’t get the invite in time. Someone caught it and called me directly.”

“I hope the place they picked is nice…”. She was looking out the window, trying to make out the road ahead. “Carol in accounting is super jealous. I think she has a bit of a crush on you…”

“Well, I am irresistible.”

“Mostly.” She grinned at him. A square of light grabbed her attention. “I think we’re here.”

He pulled up to the house. It looked sketchy at best, and the looks his PA were casting made him wonder if her trust was stretching a little too thin.

He got out and walked up to the porch. The Fae came out this time wearing a chic, flowery dress. She ignored Max and called to his PA. “Don’t be afraid. You are here so I can talk to you about your dreams…and by that, I mean the Spaniard, with the scar over his eye.”

The PA froze. “You…you know about him?”

“Go inside, dear, and I will tell you all about him. But I need to talk to Max, here, first”

His PA stopped next to him, put her hand on his arm. “Will you be OK?”

“Absolutely. You know me.”

She went into the house.

“Come here, Max.” The Fae held out her hand, gesturing him to come up to the porch. He did. A card table was set up, with one chair. Two cards lay face down. “Here is your choice. Are you ready?”

He stood there, looking at the table, and nodded. Fear coursed through him, as strong as the day cold hands grabbed him from behind, teeth sinking into his throat…

She reached down and flipped over a card. The Queen of Spades. “Darkness ever lasting. A vampire queen even now is looking for her equal. She will choose you, and the two of you will know power beyond your wildest dreams…until enough people get angry about it and decide to deal with you both. You will not love her, but who needs love when you have sex and death and all the power you ever hoped for?”

She reaches again, flips over another card. The Queen of Hearts. “And this. This is life. Your soul will wake up, and you will be twenty one and full of possibilities again. Your heart will beat every beat that was stolen from you. The slate will not be wiped entirely clean, but you will have a chance — a chance with your lovely librarian. Children. Be kind when you were once cruel, and live a decent, good life.”

His lips were numb. “How…how long?”

“Long enough. You will not feel cheated. It will be a plain sort of life, but it will be yours, and you will have the woman you love…some would say that is worth dying for.”

“What do you know about death? Your kind just fade when they are tired of living. You will never know the absolute fucking horror of your body betraying you. The fucking humiliation that waits. The pain.”

“No.” She said softly. “I do not.” She kissed his temple. “I am sorry. If I had met you sooner, perhaps…but, in any case, I consider all debts paid. When you are ready, pick up the card representing your choice, and rip it in half. Choose well, Maxwell Phillips. May we never meet again.”

He didn’t notice her leave. He sat down, weak, at the table.

Life. Death. Life. Death.

He’d seen both his parents die terribly. After he was turned, he’d mourned, then he realized the gift he’d been given. No hospitals. No lingering disease. No pain.

His hand hovered next to the Queen of Spades. No love, but power and sex. He’d tried to recover, tried to be good, for you. And he’d started feeling the guilt. And with guilt, came all the excuses. That he was living according to the nature that had been forced upon him. That he was giving people a gift…they died, or they become something that could never die.

You don’t punish the wolf for being a wolf.

But that was why it had been easy to walk away. Because you deserved better. Not a vampire. Not a wolf. A man…

He did not hear the car, but he heard the thump of the other man’s steps as he mounted the porch.

“She’s in there…” he said, barely paying attention.

When the other man left, he repeated what he said to him, in his head. Choosing between life and death.

He picked up the Queen of Hearts. His hands were shaking. He ripped the card in half. Darkness roared around him, pulled him under.

When he woke up, he was on the floor of his apartment.

No. His fucking. College. Dorm room.

“Dude, you started early.” Evan’s stupid face appeared as he bent over him.

Max wondered if he could punch him in the face. It would feel really, really good to punch the other man in the face,

“OK, well, I’m going to an away game…see you sometime tomorrow.”

He put the palms of his hands in his eyes. “Yeah…have fun.”

Evan stepped over him. “See ya…wouldn’t want to be ya!” The door slammed shut and Max raised both hands in a one finger salute towards it.

He made himself get up and go to the bathroom. He looked younger but not better, per se. What is wrong with me? What’s this feeling?

It wasn’t just that he could feel his body working. Feel breath (was breathing always so fucking noisy?) and heat beats and aches in his neck and back from laying weird on the floor.

He’d lived for years. But right now, he was still the same angry, miserable hit mess of a man he’d been at this point of his life.

A phone was ringing, he went and grabbed it.

“Hey Maxie. Is Evan gone?” Evan’s girlfriend. Great.

Oh.

“Yeah. Yeah. Look…”

“Awesome. I bought the cutest bra and panties…”

And this is where, he thought, this is where he took the step to becoming the man you deserved him to be. “That’s great. But you know…I only want to fuck you because your boyfriend is an annoying twit.”

Shocked silence. OK still an asshole. Check. So much for being a sweet boy when I was younger. “Look. I meant what I said. You are beautiful. You are probably far, far too good for Evan. Or maybe not, if you are willing to screw around with an asshole like me. In any case, you deserve better. But you have to decide what better is.”

This treated him to a string of profanity before the woman hung up.

Then, he walked to the infirmary, and asked for aspirin. And if there were any free spots for the therapist.

Sunday, the conversation between roommates went like this:

“So you were going to screw my girlfriend?”

A shrug — Max concentrated on the video game. “Changed my mind.”

“Why?”

He paused the game. “Because you deserve better.”

He felt Evan throw himself on the couch next to him. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“I don’t hate you. You’re just so fucking happy and peppy and optimistic and everything is going to be awesome but I think the world is shit and misery and maybe if you dialed it back a little I we could have conversations that didn’t end with me wanting to punch your face.”

“Dude.” It sounded defeated and apologetic at the same time.

Max held a controller out to him. “Sorry. I’ll try to be less of an asshole.”

He took it. “I’ll try to be less…happy?”

Max sighed. “Just don’t get me kicked out, ok? I can’t afford anywhere else and I really don’t want to end up in Transylvania.”

Two years later, he decided he could go and find you.

Most people went to nice places on their spring break.

Max got on a bus and headed to a University in the next state. They’d had their Spring break a week sooner.

There you were. Sitting cross legged on a bench with a man with a streak of blonde in his hair, and a suit coat with elbow patches. Elbow patches. Pretentious asshole.

You were tucking hair behind your ear. You liked him. Max wondered if he should leave, come back…in a year? Three? When did he have a right to become part of your life? Did he even?

You look at him and smile and it is sunshine and he can’t leave.

The man on the bench says something about class. “See you at work,” she tells him, and he lopes off in an easy walk to one of the brick covered class buildings.

Max approaches carefully. “Hey. Um. I’m thinking about transferring here, wondered what it’s like?”

She shifted her bag over, even though there was plenty of room to sit, and he took it as an invite. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

He gave her his best smile. “Everything. I want to know everything.”

#Max phillips #max phillips x reader #writer wednesday

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berriusagi · 3 years

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Stomach Bug Ch3

Future Plans

Thank you everyone who’s reading this fic and enjoying it. It really means a lot that you guys like this fic so much.

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Everything settled down once Alfred stepped in the announce dinner, Jason was forced to relinquish Marinette so she could regain her footing and settle her stomach. Damian helped steady her as she took a few slow deep breaths to calm her stomach. Dick still much too animated, was herding the two youngest into the dining room where the table was filled with a large array of food plates set out and silverware pristine.

Damian helped her to a seat beside himself making sure she was comfortable before taking his seat much to the amusement of his family. “What?” he glared, catching his family all staring at him with a mix of glee and surprise.

“Oh nothing, just didn’t take you for a helicopter boyfriend.” Jason chuckled taking his seat and started to pile his plate full of Alfred’s amazing cooking.

“She’s pregnant, she should be careful.” Damian glared filling his and Marinette’s plate with all the vegetarian options he could find.

Marinette sighed softly watching Damian’s antics, a small smile on her face as he set her plate down in front of her, “Thank you Dami.” She whispered trying hard to ignore the three brothers across from her making exaggerated cooing and gagging noises at them

Bruce shook his head a fond smile on his face as everyone got their food and settled in to eat a comfortable silence falling over them as everyone enjoyed the meal. Of course, this is the Wayne household so silence never lasted long and it was Bruce to break it this time.

“So, Marinette why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself and you’re planning now that you’re pregnant, what do you plan to do for school?” Bruce asked sipping on some wine as he watched the two youngest.

“Schooling won’t be a problem. I was already doing online classes, so it won’t be a problem keeping up with my classes. As for the future I just want to do what is best for the baby and my future.” She smiled sipping on some water.

“And we’ll be there to help her out every step of the way,” Harley grinned, reaching over to ruffle Marinette’s hair.

“Of course, however, we should discuss her living arrangements.” Bruce nodded, setting his glass down pointedly ignoring his three eldest dramatically rolling their eyes and their comments of, ‘oh Christ’ and ‘he has to stop at some point.’

Harley just looked him in the eye and crossed her arms, “She will be living with her mothers, we can provide for her just fine Bruce. She should remain somewhere she is familiar with and comfortable so she doesn’t stress herself out.”

“I understand that, however, I’d very much like to get to know my son’s girlfriend and would like to know that she always has someone with her.” Bruce said eyeing both women at his table, “I don’t mean to sound rude but you two are well-known guests at Arkham.”

“Ivy and I haven’t gotten thrown into Arkham since we got Marigold,” Harley glared, getting to her feet, “And I don’t like your tone you are not just going to swoop in and take my daughter just because she’s carrying your grandchild Bruce. She is staying at home with us where we can help her and make sure she is happy and comfortable.”

“I don’t mean to insult Harley.” Bruce said, raising his hands in a calming manner, “I want what is best for her as much as you. We can get her a private doctor who won’t go to the press if they find out whose child she is carrying. We can watch over her in the event of you two having to handle up on other matters of less legal means.”

Tension filled the room as the kids watched Harley and Bruce go back and forth with their arguments and reasoning for why it would be best for Marinette to live with them as opposed to the other. Jason seemed greatly entertained enjoying the show while Dick seemed to want to play mediator trying to cut in but failing each time as they just grew louder. It wasn’t long until the room was filled with Bruce’s stern voice and Harley’s animated accented speech.

“Maman,” Marinette shouted, effectively shutting down the argument as Harley turned to look at Marinette, “Maybe we can compromise?” she asked a bit quietly.

Harley sighed, sitting down, and waved her hand signaling for Marinette to continue as she grabbed a roll biting into it as she waited for Marinette to say her piece.

Marinette took a moment to breathe and collect her thoughts before turning to look at Bruce, “Mr. Wayne, do you want me to live here?” she asked, getting his nod of confirmation, “Maman, and Mum you still want me to stay at home?” she added looking over at Harley and Ivy getting their nods as well.

She nodded, taking another moment, “How about we have a sort of… custody agreement?” she asked, trying to think of the proper words, “All my schoolwork and projects are at home and I don’t want to completely relocate this late in the year. I can still stay with my moms’ during the week and on the weekend I can stay here. On holidays all of us can come over and spend the break here.” She said looking between the adults, “That way I’m still with my moms and you all can still get to know me and you can keep your eyes on me since no one thinks I can function now that I’m pregnant.”

The adults fell into silence thinking the proposal over. Harley let out a sigh letting her head fall back in her seat, “I suppose it’ll do but if anything happens to you while you’re here we are locking you in your room away from Bruce.” She quickly threw in.

“And if either of you end up in Arkham then she’s being moved to the manor immediately.” Bruce tacked on staring the two women down.

“So… doesn’t everyone agree to the terms?” Marinette asked, looking between the two a bit warily as they continued to stare each other down.

“It’s a good compromise.” Ivy said putting a hand on Harley’s arm, “Right Bruce?”

“Yes it is,” Bruce nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from Harley to look at Marinette, “I’ll have Alfred prepare a room for you.”

Marinette nodded a soft smile on her face as the tension began to leave the room as everyone went back to quietly eating. Until Jason decided to cut in, “You met Demon Spawn through a pen pal assignment, right? How’d that go?”

Marinette giggled softly as Damian got this slightly pained look on his face at the mention of how they met. “I used to go to school in Paris, we had a pen pal assignment. We would send letters back and forth at first it was only for the assignment. I’ll admit I wasn’t aware he was from a well-known wealthy family and since it was just for school we didn’t share many personal details at the beginning.” She admitted.

“What was it that caused the snowball?” Damian asked, leaning back trying to remember.

“You mentioned in your letter that you were in the middle of a feud with your brothers because one of them threatened to eat Batcow and another hid Jerry the Turkey around Thanksgiving.” Marinette said giggling at the memory, “I was so confused that you had farm animals, and then the next letter you sent pictures of your animals. I still have them in an old photo album somewhere.”

“From there we just started talking more when the assignment was due to end she sent me her email and we continued to talk through that later it turned into video calls then we swapped numbers when she came to Gotham.” Damian finished pointedly ignoring his brothers looking at him as if he was a clone.

“Why did you move to Gotham?” Dick asked looking at Marinette a bit curious, “Not many people pick Gotham when they’re looking for new places to live.”

“I came to Gotham because that’s where my moms live. They adopted me a little over a year ago and I was flown out here once the adoption was all finished.” She said her formerly bright and happy smile fading away to a more somber one.

“You mentioned projects.” Jason quickly cut in drawing Marinette’s attention, “are they school projects or hobbies?”

“Oh, they’re commissions for an online store I have. I like to keep them in one spot part of why I don’t want to leave home just yet it’ll take a while to properly pack everything up so nothing is ruined.” She smiled a bit of her shine coming back, “I run a small online boutique and make clothing. The sweater and jeans I’m wearing I actually made. I don’t often buy premade clothing unless it’s to customize.”

Once the sudden round of questioning came to an end other conversations began to flow smoothly after that everyone taking turns to ask a question or to throw out an answer. The tension from the previous custody argument seemingly forgotten as the Wayne boys took turns trying to learn as much about Marinette as possible. However, Marinette made it a tad difficult for them to get any real personal information on her as she seemed to masterfully skirt around certain questions while making it seem like she wasn’t dodging the question.

If anyone noticed her doing so they didn’t comment on it. Soon the plates were cleared away and Alfred was coming out with a plate stacked with macarons of multiple colors and flavors. Alfred walked around and set down a few macarons on everyone’s plate before disappearing back into the kitchen with a few leftovers for him to enjoy. Everyone kindly thanked Marinette for bringing the dessert even though she didn’t have to as they each picked up their cookie to take a bite.

Soft chatter began to fill as the boys began complimenting Marinette on the macarons as they all enjoyed the sweet cookies. “These are delicious Marinette where did you learn to make them?” Dick asked his cheeks ballooned out like a chipmunk as he chewed.

Marinette giggled happiness filling her as everyone enjoying her dessert, “I grew up in a bakery most of my life so baking is just second nature at this point.” she smiled, “I usually make bread for the week on sundays so it’s one less thing we have to worry about getting at the store.” she added.

The Wayne boys nodded as they enjoyed the cookies and continued with their previous attempt of questioning Marinette though didn’t get very far once again. Marinette seemed to know how to handle questioning quite well to answer a question by not giving an answer at all and it didn’t even bother them.

All too soon dinner came to an end and the Isley-Quinzels had to leave so that Marinette could get to sleep for her classes in the morning. They all stood at the front door saying their good-byes and planning when best to drop Marinette off on the upcoming Friday. “We’ve also already found her an OB-GYN we’ll send over the information and when we have appointments settled we’ll be sure to notify you if we keep this doctor,” Ivy said as she pulled on her coat.

“You trust this doctor?” he asked looking at her as the boys were busy trying to say their good-byes to Marinette.

“We won’t know for sure until we’re in her office. Marinette is a good judge of character if she doesn’t trust the doctor then we won’t continue to go to them.” Ivy said as Marinette kissed Damian on the cheek before coming over to join them, “We’ll keep you informed on how everything goes but we won’t be able to set up an appointment until sometime next week.”

He nodded and opened the door for them, “You three have a safe night and I’ll see you on Friday Marinette.” Bruce smiled gently patting her back as she nodded following her mother’s out.

“Have a nice evening Mr. Wayne.” She smiled softly up at him as they all left heading down the stairs as Bruce closed the door and turned to face his sons. He let out a tired sigh watching as they all seemed to be ganging up on Damian trying to interrogate him about Marinette to learn as much as they could before Friday rolled around.

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@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @killer-frost-ladybug @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden

#daminette #damianette #damidad #mominette #maribat #maridami #ml x dc #teen pregnancy #Stomach Bug

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chironshorseass · 3 years

Text

part 1 read on ao3

“So you’re telling me that you haven’t Iris Messaged Annabeth in a month?”

“She was with her cousin, Ma.”

His mother stopped the car right next to Goode—the high school he would (hopefully) be attending in August.

She turned to look at him, that motherly stern look that always came up when she knew he wasn’t telling her everything.

“What?”

She shrugged. “Whatever you say. But physically, you haven’t seen her since last January! I’m just worried that—”

“We emailed each other, though—”

“Yes, but it’s not the same.” At Percy’s roll of the eyes, she held her hands up in surrender. “All I’m saying is to…see if there’s anything wrong. I have a feeling she didn’t want to IM you for some other reason. And I know you, Perce. You have the same feeling as I do.”

He did, but that wasn’t the point. So he kissed his mom on the cheek and stepped out of the car.

“Good luck on your date! And with, um, school!”

He threw her a thumbs up and shouldered his backpack.

Too bad that luck wasn’t on his side that day.

She saw him before he saw her.

He’s grown, was the first thing that came to Annabeth’s mind.

His clothing peppered in burn holes, the smoke wafting further back, and the pretty girl chasing him was registered later.

She saw him before he saw her, and so Percy bumped into her in the alleyway. Her hands went to his shoulders, steadying him.

“Whoah!” she said, laughing. “Watch where you’re going, Seaweed Brain!”

Maybe he thought he’d be late for our date. That’s why he’s in such a hurry.

It didn’t matter. Because he was here, and he was just a bit taller than her—his hair was longer than she remembered, but his green eyes were the same, beautiful color, and...

Then she caught his panicked look. Then she caught the girl behind him and the smoke and his burnt clothing.

“What happened?”

Before he could reply, the redhead called out, “Percy! Wait up!”

Her flip-flops echoed across the relatively quiet street, interrupting Annabeth’s thought process.

“And who‘s she?”

Percy turned to the other girl and waited until she arrived next to them. He glanced at Annabeth, wincing. “It’s uh…it’s a long story.”

“You promised to explain,” the girl insisted, breathless. “About the monsters and the gods and everything.”

“Wait,” Annabeth said. “She’s a demigod?”

“No.”

At the same time, the girl tilted her head and said, “So you’re one of them, too, huh?”

Annabeth felt her mouth fall open in disbelief. She met Percy’s eyes. “You told some mortal about us?”

“My name’s Rachel.”

And my name’s I-don’t-give-a-fuck.

“She can see through the mist,” is all he said.

She shook her head. Out of everything that could happen today…and this was what Fate had decided on.

“Come on.” She tugged on Percy’s arm. “We’re leaving before whatever attacked you comes back.”

He followed her, but not without gazing back at Rachel as though he wanted to stay with her. As though it were easier than being with Annabeth. There was something bubbling in her stomach at that, something that boiled her insides.

“Wait!” Rachel shouted. “You promised to explain!”

She sprinted toward them and took out a sharpie marker she’d sprung out from thin air. Annabeth rolled her eyes. Rachel grasped Percy’s arm and began writing something that looked like numbers.

She wasn’t rolling her eyes anymore.

“My phone number,” Rachel explained. Then she winked at him. “Whenever you can, call me.”

“What was all that about?” Annabeth said. She’d already stormed ahead, taking the lead.

He tried to explain. He’d gone to Goode’s orientation tour, just like she knew he would. There, he’d been attacked by empousa cheerleaders, and thanks to Rachel’s Sight, he’d survived.

“I’d be dead if it weren’t for her,” he said, eyeing his marked arm. “I have to repay her in some way.”

“So now you have her phone number,” she said lightly.

“Uh…yeah.”

“She’s really cute.”

Percy stopped in his tracks. She stopped as well and looked back, realizing that he was staring at her exasperatedly.

“Aw, come on, Annabeth. You and I are literally dating, and I just saw her today—well, except for last year—”

“You’ve met her before?”

He scratched his head, shifting from one foot to the other. “I, uh…yeah. Last year at Hoover Dam.”

Right. When he was looking for me.

She kept walking again.

“Are you seriously upset because of her?” He tried to grab her hand, but she pulled away. “‘Beth, I never—”

“Anyway, I don’t think we can go on our date anymore.” Her tone was scathing, like sharp, twisted knives. But she didn’t care. The gods hated her, apparently, because she and Percy could never be a normal teenage couple.

“Oh, so now you can get all angry with me when we couldn’t even call properly because of your cousin? Not even a single call?”

“That empousai said that the camp would go up in flames, we need to—”

“Don’t change the subject.” He ran up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, making her halt. The few baby fat he’d still preserved back in winter was gone, replaced with the hints of someone older; with a harshness akin to his father, the Sea God. “How much time did you actually spend with your cousin? Honestly. He couldn’t have been with you all the time, and I tried to be nice and understanding, but did you really—”

“If what that empousa warned you about is true, then we need to head to camp. Right now.”

She left before he could talk about anything else involving her pathetic lies. Left before he could see her blinking back tears. She ran directly into Argus’ van, and once Percy had closed the door, she told the bodyguard to drive directly to camp. No detours.

They didn’t talk on the way there. She stared out the window, watching the passing farms and the cotton sky.

Her first meeting with Percy after months apart and it couldn’t have gone better.

The thing is: Annabeth had changed her mind about camp. In her plans, she’d stay in San Francisco for longer than usual, just to be as far away from Camp Half-Blood as possible. Then, she’d go to New York City, and her and Percy would be taken to camp by Argus.

But plans changed.

Her mother had come, weeks before Annabeth would leave as initially intended. For some strange reason, she’d knocked on her door like Luke all those months ago.

A spluttering Frederick had answered this time. Annabeth trailed behind him, cautious for anything.

Cautious for anything didn’t mean she’d thought Athena would ever consider stopping by.

“Mom?” she’d said, eyes wide.

After greetings were made, Athena had insisted she go to camp immediately. “They are counting on you to be there, Annabeth. You must go. Before it’s too late.”

Annabeth recalled what she’d told Luke:

“People are counting on you—on me”

But hearing it from her mother, seeing her so insistent—enough so that she’d come, personally, to her porch steps—made Annabeth reconsider.

Anyway, this was Athena. Her mother. Who was she to displease her?

So she buried all her worries about Luke and Percy and followed her; in the blink of an eye, she’d arrived at camp, Athena nowhere to be seen. Annabeth hadn’t even had the chance to ask her about why she’d decided to help, out of the blue.

But Athena was right; camp needed her. Apparently, Clarisse’s top-secret quest from last winter had to do with venturing into the Labyrinth. She and Chiron had rescued Chris Rodriguez, an ex-camper who was scouting it in the hopes of finding an entrance to camp for Luke’s army. He’d fallen victim to madness in those dark, underground walls. No one knew why—only that he needed help.

Not only that, but throughout those few weeks, she’d felt as if her mother’s face was implanted in her mind like a brand; she swore she saw those grey eyes everywhere. While she got familiar with Quintus and Mrs. O’Leary. While planning with Clarisse and Chiron. While hanging out with Silena. While scouring the forest with Grover and his new girlfriend, Juniper—searching for an entrance to the Labyrinth.

It got to the point where she lit a match and watched as dozens of olives burst into flames, in the hopes that Athena would respond.

“What do you want from me?”

“Please answer.”

“What do you know that we don’t?”

Everything.

That’s what she’d say, probably. But Annabeth would never know, because Athena never answered. She nearly burned down cabin seven because of this. In her frustration, she scooped up the remaining olives, stomped across camp, and threw them into the sea.

“Thanks for everything,” she muttered, watching the waves greedily drag the olives away.

She didn’t feel eyes burning into her neck after that, but coming back with Percy restarted the process all over again.

An owl was perched on Thalia’s tree. She ignored it, only for it to come back while her and Percy both sat to hear what the Council of Cloven Elders had to say about Grover’s search for Pan.

“Mom. What do you want?”

“Lovely way of greeting your visiting mother, I see.”

Annabeth sighed.

After reasurances to Grover that, ‘Everything will be alright. Don’t worry. I know you’ll find Pan before the Council’s deadline,’ she’d taken to the trees. To where that grey owl was perched.

The owl disappeared, however. Replaced by the goddess of wisdom. So now both mother and daughter stood, a few feet apart, while everyone else gathered on the other side. No one noticed the secret meeting.

“You prayed to me,” Athena said. “Of course I would answer. Even if you did throw the offerings away.”

To where Annabeth threw them away was left unsaid; Athena knew. She knew, and she’d likely come because of it.

Annabeth shrugged.

“You’re angry with me,” Athena observed. “Anger must be controlled, or else unwise decisions happen. Like throwing a prized possession into the sea.”

“Well, Mother,” Annabeth said, jaw tense. “You haven’t exactly been clear about why you’re following me around. Or about why you wanted me to go to camp early in the first place.”

Athena was rarely quick to anger. She calculated everything, patient and firm, just like now.

“Knowing the intentions of the divine can either be a blessing or a curse.”

“But you’re about to tell me something. About to answer me. Am I cursed, then?”

Athena cocked her head, considering.

“No,” she finally said.

There was a glint in her eyes, something that told Annabeth that she was holding back.

“Well, then...I am asking again: why are you here?”

“Because I foresee that you shall lead a quest.”

A pause. Her comment was precise, abrupt as a frigid wind. Annabeth felt herself gaping like a fish. Quickly, she clamped her mouth shut. That was all she wanted, wasn’t it? To lead a quest? But then why did she feel such a profound sense of dread?

“I came to warn you. It won’t be easy.”

She restrained the urge to roll her eyes. “Quests aren’t meant to be easy.”

“Never stray from the plan,” Athena said, ignoring her comment. Her eyes were grey as granite, face hard as marble. “I know that you can…manage your hubris, but this time, it’ll be the ultimate trial for what you can or can’t do. If you can yield or not. You and Perseus both. Hubris can be controlled, but if control itself is the problem...that is very dire, indeed.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I may have made a mistake in assuming Perseus’ fatal flaw. Maybe not. In any case...you must be careful.”

“You assumed what his fatal flaw is?”

Athena regarded her carefully, like one does when studying an ancient scroll. “You can ask him about it. Since you two are...close.”

She said close as if it was a foregin word on her tongue, something she wanted to get rid of.

Of course she knew.

“About that, I don’t care what you—”

“I give you the benefit of the doubt,” Athena said, an eyebrow raised. “My children are known to make wise, rational decisions. I can only hope that you won’t become an exception to that rule. I do not approve, but it is your life. Your choice.”

Annabeth’s mouth felt like sand. Choices. She’d begun to hate them, now.

“What’s Percy’s fatal flaw?”

“Even to me, it’s uncertain.”

“But you have some idea.”

“As do you, my daughter.”

“I thought knowledge is power.”

“Yes. Knowledge is power. But how do you know that the knowledge you possess is true? How do you know if it’s not? Fate, however, is already decided; all we can do is prepare for the worst.”

“What’s going to happen, then?” Annabeth felt like she was barely able to grasp for something to hold on to, waiting— begging —for the ground to steady itself. “What will happen to Luke? What’s my role in all of this?”

Athena only shook her head. “Knowing something and having the wits to use it are two separate things.” Then she turned around, her time at camp over as well as her vague and unreliable warnings. “I must go. Good luck, Annabeth, on your quest.”

“A quest no one has even mentioned —”

“And watch for Percy Jackson.”

She vanished into the canopy, morphing into that same, grey owl. A single feather fell from the sky and settled quietly into the ground next to Annabeth’s sneakers. It mocked her, that feather. She kicked it away, then thought better of it and rubbed it into the dirt with her heel, destroying every single trace.

Your choice.

Neither her nor Percy mentioned their earlier fight. It became a discarded page, ripped off and torn into pieces like an old math textbook. It gave her space to breathe, to start over. A part of her knew that it wasn’t right, and that eventually, they’d have to talk about it—but that was eventually. This was now.

During the “now,” she filled Percy in on the Labyrinth.

(The Labyrinth will be the quest your mom mentioned. It can’t be about anything else)

He listened to everything she had to say and stayed even while Clarisse was there, too.

(Probably because they’re friends. They just hate to admit it.)

They ignored the catcalls and the teasing. She expected it, anyway.

(“So the rumors are true,” Malcolm said, wiggling his eyebrows and making her roll her eyes. “You and Percy are a thing, now.”

“Uh…yeah.”

“And you never thought to tell me? Like, I’m not surprised or anything, but—hey! Don’t hit me! Okay, fine, everyone knew since you two held hands and made gooey eyes at each other and stuff last January—stop hitting me!”)

Later, her and Percy sat together by the warmth of the campfire, roasting s’mores. She enjoyed laying her head on his shoulder and kissing his cheek. She laughed at his horrible singing and held his hand later that night, swinging their arms up and down as they walked toward cabin three.

Joking around and taking comfort in the sound of the crickets, Annabeth understood what it was like to love someone. It was a different kind of love than that of Luke. She watched him smile wide, watched the way his eyes crinkled as she rolled her eyes about Clarisse and Silena. That’s when it crossed her mind: their friendship hadn’t changed. Not really.

Even though they hadn’t seen each other for six months or so, and even though their newest step to their relationship had started weeks before that, their esense stayed the same. He was still Percy and she was still Annabeth. And that would never change.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Percy said, squeezing her hand.

“Oh, um. Just...thinking.”

“Well duh.”

“Shut up.”

He grinned at her, even as she shoved him off.

“No but seriously,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed. Her meeting with Athena had slipped into her mind like passing sticky notes and secret messages. “I want to talk about fatal flaws.”

She felt his hand tense. “What about them?”

“Just, I dunno, like...do you know yours?”

He was looking straight ahead when he said, “Your, uh, mom told me. Is personal loyalty even considered a flaw?”

“That’s what she said? That your fatal flaw is personal loyalty?”

He shrugged. “Guess so.”

So it’s true. She thinks she’s wrong.

“I mean, personal loyalty is considered a flaw, but...do you think it could be something else? Maybe?”

They locked eyes. The faraway hearth lit up his face, sharpening his features.

“Do you think it’s something else?”

“I don’t know.”

Another lie. Or was it? Could personal loyalty be his fatal flaw or could it be something else? Was Athena right? Was she wrong?

Percy raised his eyebrows. “You know something. You have that planning face look.”

“I don’t have a—”

“Uh, yeah you do. But whatever. It’s not like you know what my fatal flaw is.”

“I’m...yeah. I was just wondering since, well, I know about mine. And we’re so close to the Great Prophecy, and if you don’t know by now what your fatal flaw is, well—”

“It’s good that I know, then,” he cut in. “Good that I know my fatal flaw by now.” His eyes flicked to her. “Right?”

“Yeah. Right. Good.”

Nothing else was said after that. He stopped by the porch steps of cabin three and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, comforted like she had throughout the singalong. Comforted by Percy.

Until he closed his door and left her in the dark.

The next day, Quintus’ strange game involving scorpions and ribbons began with her being paired up with Percy. It was just their luck that they’d stumbled into the Labyrinth, of all places .

“So we’re stuck here.”

“Yep,” Percy confirmed.

“You’re not helping.”

“I’m only here for moral support. You’re the brains of the relationship.”

“Am not,” she grumbled. “You’re smart; stop pretending you aren’t.”

It was no use, anyway. She couldn’t find the mark of Daedalus in the darkness. They took a break from searching and calling for help to sit down, bunching up against a wall and leaning against the other.

“I never apologized.”

Percy’s voice in the hollow chambers nearly made her jump. She lifted her chin and tucked it into his collarbone.

“For what?” she said.

“The Rachel thing.”

“To be fair, I’d nearly forgotten.”

“Exactly. So I just…want to clear the air before it comes up again. And to say sorry for doubting you about your cousin.”

She shut her eyes tight. The truth was coming like undigested food; she was ready to spill it all out. But she swallowed the words instead—hating herself and loving this beautiful, selfless boy all at the same time. Round and round. Round and round it went.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“What are you sorry for? You were right to be angry with me. Like, all this time apart and suddenly a girl writes down her phone number on my arm , and then we can’t even have a normal date because I seem to mess that up, too.”

You’re perfect, she wanted to say. You’re perfect and I’m the one who messed everything up. Not you.

“We both reacted in stupid ways,” she said instead. “And anyway, I should’ve found the time to IM with you.”

He kissed the top of her head and mumbled into her hair, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah. I know.”

He pulled away from her. She could feel his gaze but couldn’t see him clearly. “Something’s bothering you, Annabeth. What’s wrong? What’s actually wrong?”

She pursed her lips.

“What if…what if we don’t make it?”

Her voice came out barely above a whisper, but in the drifting silence, it sounded like ringing bells, there for everyone to hear.

( “What if you don’t make it?” She could never dare to say that out loud, however. )

She felt Percy lace his fingers through hers. “We’ll be together. That’s something I know for sure.”

They chose silence after that. Annabeth rested her head against his shoulder once more, listening to the constant creaking and shifting of the Labyrinth.

“Hey,” Percy murmured.

She glanced at him. “Hmm?”

Suddenly, she was aware of his hand resting on her arm, of his breath warm against her cheek. She froze, just for a second.

“Can I kiss you?”

Now that she thought about it, they’d never kissed properly—just a quick peck here and there. She nearly laughed at how nervous Percy sounded, at how this was just like last winter as they asked permission for a simple kiss like the awkward teenagers that they were.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and leaned in. He didn’t need to look far, not even in the darkness; she was already inches apart, closing her eyes and feeling their breaths slip by.

When their lips met, she decided that surrender tasted sweet and pure, something she’d willingly do over and over again. He kissed her and nothing else mattered, not Time or the dark or choices.

He was the first to pull away.

“We’ve, um, we’ve been in here for too long,” he said. “Let’s keep trying to find a way out.”

It wasn’t long until they did.

By the time they’d managed to slip out of the Labyrinth, hours had passed. Night had fallen like autumn leaves, though she swore that they’d been in the maze for thirty minutes at most.

By the time the campers and Chiron found them, she already knew that a quest would have to be made.

Just like her mother had promised, she was chosen to lead.

From what the oracle told her, she wished she could hide in her cabin and never come out. She wished that all of this was a dream and that absolutely nothing would happen—to anyone.

“The child of Athena’s final stand,” she’d said, repeating nearly all of her prophecy once Chiron asked her about it.

She paused and didn’t say the last line. The worst line. That line had cut to her bones. A rusted knife against her throat.

“And lose a love worse than death.”

She gazed at Percy. Innocent green eyes gazed right back at her, unwavering. What a terrible person she was, that she’d lead him to this fate because she couldn’t leave without him. How weak.

“Will you come?” she breathed.

He agreed without a second thought.

He found her in her cabin. They were alone, for once. And when he asked her what was wrong, when he looked at her like that, she couldn’t take it anymore. She surged to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly and secure, so he could never go away.

She breathed in his scent, feeling tears already trickling into his shirt.

“Hey, it’s—it’s okay. We’ll survive.”

“But what if we don’t?”

His hands drifted up to her back, steadying her.

She lifted her eyes, pulling away slightly, if only to see him clearly. A varying amount of emotions crossed his face. Concern, fear, love. Until he settled on concern and flicked away her stray tears with the pad of his thumb ever so gently. His eyebrows were pinched together.

“I just…” she said, looking away. “I just don’t want anything happening to yo—to any of you.”

“I’ll be here,” he said softly, cupping her cheek and moving it in his direction so that she could understand. “We’ll be okay.”

She wished she could believe that. Wished she could believe it with the same amount of heart that she poured into the kiss that followed. Her hands tugged at his hair, lips moving along with his like they never had before. They were warm and sure, his lips. But they could easily turn blue and cold, as easily as a flame could cease to exist. So she kissed him with everything she had so that his lips would stay warm like this, forever—passed her oxygen to him until there was nothing left to give.

Annabeth also chose Grover and Tyson to join her quest. With two more people, the quest team turned up as four instead of three; a feeling told her that she needed them all.

But three is a sacred number. Not four. This is why Zoë and Bianca passed on.

Three, not four.

And lose a love to worse than—

She strolled past the moving walls, the footfalls of the rest echoing behind her. Until she stopped. They were in a lavish room with a muraled painting of the gods, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the two doorways, the two paths.

“So?” Grover asked. “Which one do we uh…which one do we pick?”

Before she could answer, a man formed—or rather, a man with two faces. They stood in between the pathways, leering at her.

“Yes, Annabeth,” said one face.

“Which one do you pick?” said the other.

She kept mulling it over, what Hera had said. They’d encountered Janus, the god of doorways and beginnings and endings. And choices.

“Choose,” they’d said.

Instantly, images had painted themselves in her mind. In one, she was looking for Daedalus alongside Percy and Grover and Tyson. In the other, she was looking for Luke. “He can be saved,” her imaginary self muttered as she trudged through the Labyrinth alone, on the brink of madness. “If I save him, there will be no more death.”

But then more flashed through her mind. Choose one pathway, and she’d lose Percy, and soon after that, she’d lose Grover and Tyson. Choose the other, and she’d lose Luke instead.

“Choose.”

Everything had come to a pause when Hera arrived. She wanted to help them, apparently—only that that wasn’t true. Gods didn’t help. They only left you confused and disoriented, spinning around with no control.

She hadn’t helped, not that it surprised her.

None of them had any clue how to navigate the Labyrinth, only that supposedly Percy knew the answer. And also that they had to search for Hephaestus if they wanted to find Daedalus.

As a parting gift, she’d said, “I delayed Janus’ visit, but be careful, Annabeth. Your choice will come soon enough.”

“Let’s rest here,” Percy said, sensing her waning steps.

Despite her exhaustion, she insisted on taking first watch. She had to think. Pray. Slowly, everyone else fell into a slumber, but her mind was wide awake, gazing at Percy’s motionless form.

Prophecies had double meanings, didn’t they?

Her world was turned upside-down once she heard the explosion, once she went airborne for a few seconds only to hit her shoulder on a jagged rock. Immediately, she felt the sharp sting of pain. She clutched her shoulder, biting her lip. Her hand came back slick with blood.

“You chose this,” the two-faced god taunted her.

Then she heard a strangled scream. Percy’s scream. She inhaled sharply and scrambled to stand up, ignoring the scuttling spider that was getting farther and farther away and the stabbing pain traveling from her shoulder to the rest of her body.

“Percy!”

She ran in the direction from which she’d come from. Too late. Searing heat slapped her in the face before she understood what was happening. Another explosion came, and this time, she wasn’t so lucky.

Her body stumbled back, rocks caving in on her.

The sky. This is like the sky—

And everything went dark.

The darkness formed into a memory:

“No! I can’t leave you!”

“I’ve got a plan—promise!” he insisted. “You follow that metal spider to Hephaestus' lair, tell him about what’s going on.”

“But you’ll be killed!”

This was the choice; leave him or stay. Stay or leave.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. From the look in his eyes, Annabeth knew that she couldn’t convince him. He was decided. “Besides, we’ve got no choice.”

Yes, they did have a choice.

No.

Yes.

She kissed him instead. A quick kiss, a promise.

“Come back to me,” she said, fighting back tears. She pulled on her Yankees cap and left, then ran.

Her sobs escaped from her rib cage by then, finally free.

She woke to that memory and nothing else, head pounding like drums. The spider was long gone, and she stumbled around, drunk with grief. It was a miracle she found Hephaestus at all.

Hephaestus, thank the gods, understood her unintelligible blabbering. He took pity on her, perhaps, because he healed her physical wounds and dropped her off at camp. Never mind that Grover and Tyson were gone, on their own path looking for Pan. Never mind that Percy…

She broke down crying for the thousandth time that day when Chiron asked her what had happened. Why she’d staggered into camp all alone. Her heart, her entire being, spilled to the floor like water from an overfilled cup.

“Four went in and one came back. Only Annabeth came back,” the campers whispered among themselves. She saw their faces, saw their horror at realizing that Percy was likely dead, Grover and Tyson gone as well without much of a trace.

It drove her to hide. She stayed in bed for the next three days, not daring to close her eyes in the fear of what she may find there.

She thought that she’d run out of tears long ago, but they came anyway. She clamped her mouth shut so as not to alert any of her siblings who were asleep.

Your choice.

For the first time in the past two days, her eyes fluttered closed. She didn’t dream of anything at all.

Clarisse came barging into cabin seven the next morning.

“Come on, Princess,” she said, staring down at her. “You’ve gotta eat.”

Malcolm stood behind her, likely the one who had told Clarisse to come in the first place, since Annabeth hadn’t listened to any of her siblings about eating.

She tried to protest, to fight. But Clarisse was strong and had a purpose; Annabeth had nothing at all. So she sat in the dining pavilion, taking her time with her breakfast and ignoring everyone’s eyes on her.

Clarisse sat next to her, making sure she finished her food.

“Slowly, okay?” she said, then murmured, “Gods, when was the last time you ate something?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Annabeth snapped.

A few minutes passed in relative silence before Silena came to their table, offering solace.

“Hey, girlie,” she said. “How are you?”

Annabeth didn’t respond. Silena softly laid a hand on her shoulder, then decided better of it and pulled her in for a hug.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” she said gently.

But it was.

Annabeth chose to leave him.

It took everything in her not to break down in Silena’s arms. Annabeth gave her a weak smile once she proposed to do something to pass the time. Like weaving, something she knew Annabeth enjoyed, being Athena’s daughter and all that.

So they did. Silena was good at it—good at making beautiful things. In the arts and crafts station, they spent most of the afternoon knitting and sewing as well, with Clarisse begrudgingly accompanying them.

She felt herself forget, her hands the only thing working. Not her mind. Not her subconscious or her guilt or her worry and fear.

It lasted only a moment. Because then she saw what she’d been working on for the past hour. Subconsciously, Annabeth had created a shroud. A beautiful one at that, with different hues of blue and green—just like his eyes. Just like the sea.

As if sensing her distress, the two girls looked up from what they were doing.

Clarisse said, “Is something wro—”

She didn’t need to say the rest, because Annabeth found her legs already moving, racing out the door.

“Let her,” she heard Silena say. “Give her space.”

She didn’t look back, sprinting to the one place where she knew Percy’s presence still thrived. Where she could be reminded that he would come back, just like he promised.

“I’ll be here.”

Cabin three didn’t look like much. Granted, she could barely focus on anything but her breathing—which was rapidly increasing its pace—but even so, she was reminded of how simple yet welcoming cabin three was in comparison to Zeus’.

It smelled like him. Like walking down the beach on a sunny day. Everything was as it always had been—clothes splayed haphazardly on the ground, bed unmade, stray papers adorning his nightstand.

She crumpled to her knees on the worn wooden planks. A great sob escaped her, and she covered her face with shaking hands

“He’s gone, Poseidon,” she cried. “He’s gone, and—and I’m so sorry.”

That night, she threw up everything she’d eaten.

“It is time,” Chiron said, his eyes dim with pity.

He preferred demigods dead, it seemed, than to try and look for them. She’d begged. Pleaded. Fallen to her knees until they bled. But it was no use; her teacher was convinced he was dead, and by the time the second week passed without Percy showing up, he was declared as such.

“He’s powerful,” Clarisse had told her. “I trust your instincts. He’s not dead. Can’t be, or else I’d have to beat him up.”

She helped Annabeth try to talk Chiron out of the funeral but to no avail.

And he wasn’t. Annabeth knew, in her heart, that Percy wasn’t dead. Barely anyone believed her, however. She didn’t blame them; no one knew about the last line of the prophecy for her quest.

But a pestering voice reminded her of something else: Percy was not, by any means, her only loved one. That voice sounded eerily like Janus.

What if it’s Luke?

He was nothing to her, now. She swore that he wasn’t.

What if Percy is dead?

That’s when Silena squeezed her shoulder, repeating what Chiron had told her the day prior.

“It’s time.”

Everyone who had gathered by the Amphitheatre waited for her to give out her statement, grim-faced. Chiron stood at the center of it all, the shroud she’d made at the arts and crafts cabin in his hands.

She hated that shroud with all her being, but she took it anyway once she stepped the last of the stairs. The fire next to her kissed her cheeks like the warmth of the sun. But inside, all she felt was cold. His body hadn’t been found…yet the shroud that she clutched in her hands would burn with Percy’s life.

“He…” Her eyes drifted to the shimmering cloth. How could she ever describe Percy Jackson? How could she ever put him into words? “He was kind,” she began. Her voice was unrecognizable, even to her. “He was probably the bravest friend I’ve ever had, and…”

And then she saw him, grinning like an idiot behind everyone else.

“Bravest friend you ever had?” was the first thing he said, after their bone-crushing hug.

She wiped her tears away and laughed. For the moment, she didn’t care that he hadn't answered her frantic questions.

“Where have you been?”

“What happened?”

He was here and he was alive. Her arms still clung to his neck; she wasn’t sure she’d ever manage to fully let go.

“You’re my friend above everything else, Seaweed Brain. And yeah, I guess you’re pretty brave.”

A question formed at the tip of her tongue—the one asking once more about what had happened in that explosion, where he’d been all this time; she knew that Percy could tell.

He was about to say something when Chiron interrupted them.

“My boy,” he said, mainly addressing Percy. “We need to talk.”

Percy’s demeanor changed like the shock of icy water to the face.

“Uh, yeah.” Something passed through his eyes; he glanced at her, then at their teacher. “I know how to navigate Labyrinth.”

Her relief became a ghost of the past once he explained himself. He told them the plan for the next part of the quest—for finding Grover and Tyson and finally Daedalus—but all she could hear was her ears ringing.

“I was marooned on an island.”

“I uh…I stayed there for some time, healing from the explosion.”

She was almost certain about where he’d been. And then he’d mentioned his plan to find Rachel, the pretty redhead who wrote her phone number on his arm. Supposedly, she could help them.

“A clear-sighted mortal,” Chiron had said. “Clever, indeed.”

Only it wasn’t. It was her quest. Her choice. Not his.

Annabeth stood from her chair. The screeching noise made Percy wince. “I can’t believe you! You’re asking me to go to that mortal for help?”

Chiron’s eyes were soft when he said, “Annabeth, calm down—”

“No, I’m not calming down, because Percy here wants—”

“It’s the only way,” Percy said, hands wrung together.

“Ohh don’t tell me what’s ‘the only way’ and what isn’t when you could’ve easily come back sooner.”

Percy opened his mouth, but she talked over him.

“You think I’m stupid? You think I’m dumb?”

“No, ‘Beth, I—”

“You were with that goddess,” she said, her voice taking a hard edge. “Calypso, isn’t it? Was she nice company for you? Did you have a good time while I sat here, waiting for you, as my life spiraled out of control because one of the most important people in my life was gone?”

Percy stammered, “‘Beth, please…just—just let me explain.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You’re not denying it, either. That’s why you didn’t recount the entire story of your fun little vacation in a beautiful island with a beautiful goddess who was probably all over yo—”

He stood up then, leaning over the table, face inches apart from hers. “Don’t act so high and mighty with me when I know you lied to me about your cousin.”

“Percy, this isn’t even about—”

“No, no. You’re hearing me out. Okay? Hey, stop. Look me in the eyes. Nothing happened between us. Okay, nothing. She liked me, yes, but that is literally her curse! I knew you’d react that way because I’m realizing that you don’t fucking trust me!”

“What? Percy, I trust you with my life—”

“Then how come you never told me what was bothering you?”

“Because I don’t know what was bothering me!”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you! You know exactly what bothers you. But guess what? You won’t tell me! So like, don’t even dare accuse me of not revealing where I was when you do the exact same thing, ‘Beth!”

Annabeth felt like falling, but this time, she found no branch to hold onto and crashed to the ground, bleeding out and breathless.

Meanwhile, Percy kept talking, throwing javelins her way. “When you didn’t want to communicate via IM last semester, I agreed because I wanted to give you space to whatever the fuck was going on with you—and something is still going on, but you won’t tell me—and like, all that time while I was with her on that island, I wanted to go!

“I wanted to be with you! Shit, I don’t even know what I’d do without you, but I couldn’t fucking leave because that place is cursed! And when I did, it’s because she’d…she’d fallen in love with me! But I…but all I wanted was you!”

Silence fell over them with the remnants of Percy’s hard breathing. She blinked a few times, telling herself that she would not cry.

Chiron saved her before that could happen. “Now, children. Settle down. Percy. Give Annabeth some space to think about this.”

He obliged, much to her relief.

“This time, it’ll be the ultimate trial for what you can or can’t do. If you can yield or not.”

It all came down to that, to her mother’s words. She understood what they meant, now.

With just enough drachmas in her bag and a bluster assuring her that she would not fail, she grabbed Percy by the hand and crossed the camp border. Argus was waiting down below.

#pjo fic #percabeth #percabeth fic #pjo au #the battle of the labyrinth #look mom i can write #omg me updating?? so soon?? unheard of

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n0-eyedtaissa · 3 years

Text

Don’t You Forget About Me (Outer Banks OC x The Pogues): Chapter Two

tagging: @hughstheforcelou @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle @cactiem @kazinejghafa, chapter one can be found here!

Part One: 1 Year before the big move

key event: 2 days after clementine’s seventeenth birthday

The aftermath of a birthday was often a tumultuous thing. The focus on aging and the passage of time made Clementine overthink everything: the pain in her left knee from when she sprained it playing soccer, the pain in her back from how she slouched over while sitting in bed, the bags under her eyes from staying up to late. Did she feel older? More mature? Did she feel different at all? Clementine stood in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom and gives herself a slow once-over, seeing if she can see anything different about herself. She leans in close to the mirror, hot breath fogging up the glass, studying her reflection as she scrutinized herself. She gives up easily, not liking how critical she was being to herself. Her mother, Natalie, always told her and Kimber that the best thing they could do for their self esteem was to look at themselves with kind eyes. Clementine exhales and rests her forehead on the mirror as she takes a moment to recollect herself, shaking off any negative thoughts she had about herself and her reflection now that they were both another year older. She closes her eyes and breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth, taking a moment to listen to everything around her. Clementine can hear the fish tank in the dining room as it percolates, she can hear her dad’s boisterous laugh coming from the living room as he sits with his feet up after a long day, catching up on all of his shows. What she didn’t expect to hear, however, was the sharp voice of her sister in the room next door as she spoke to someone on the phone in a series of harsh whispers.

“No! I didn’t know, how could you even say that?” Clementine hears Kimber raise her voice, although she was trying hard to remain calm and quiet. There’s a mutter of a response from whoever was on the other line but it’s too soft for Clementine to be able to decipher what the other person was saying.

“Of course it is…there was only you, you know that” Kimber says, soft and sad. Only you. It gives Clementine enough context to put the pieces together. She didn’t know what Kimber was talking about, but she knew who she was talking to: Liam Gatwin, Gat. The boy from across the street, first Mate on the Vita Caprice; Kimber’s Gat

Clementine gulps and presses her ear to the wall.

Across the bedroom, Clementine’s cellphone bleats out with a notification sound and the suddenness of it startles her so much that she hits her head against the wall, the hollow sound echoing against the thin walls. “Shit, shit, shit” She scrambles back towards her bed, head spinning as she hoped that Kimber wouldn’t be popping her head in to see what all the noise was about. Clementine sits on her bed for a handful of anxious minutes before she determined the coast is clear.

Finally deciding to pick up her phone, Clementine is confused as to why she’s been sent a handful of links from her Uncle Greg. ‘Show these to ur dad, will ya? XO, G’ She taps on each of them, a string of job offers and house listenings in Kildere County, the Outer Banks. It'd only been a day and a half since the party when Lyle told his younger brother that he'd think about relocating the North Carolina. He never said a true, flat-out yes — he never did. Lyle Adams was an indecisive man to his core, so why was he already looking into jobs and houses in another state?

Clementine exits her bedroom slowly and quietly, trying to be cavalier as she shuffled her way towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. She cranes her neck and tries to listen carefully as she passes Kimber’s closed door, the ‘Keep Out’ sign only furthering the distance between the two sisters. Part of her wants to raise her hand up to the door and knock, but another part of Clementine liked that she got to be the one to keep secrets for once. She shakes the idea from her head and continues to trudge up the hallway, her bare feet sticking against the kitchen floor as she tiptoed to the refrigerator.

“What’re you into, kid?” Lyle calls out from his spot on the couch, not even bothering to turn away from the television show his eyes were glues to. ‘Something about fishing…how apropos’ Clementine thinks to herself.

“Water” She mumbles, pulling a glass from the cabinet and filling it up from the refrigerator. She’s too busy lost in thoughts about the Outer Banks to realize that her cup was brimming over with water from the filter so she leaves it in on the counter, not bothering to wipe up what spilled. Clementine stands in the middle of the kitchen for a minute, unbeknownst to her father, contemplating whether or not to bring up the texts that she received. She knows that this isn’t something she’d be able to hold onto for long, the prospect of packing up the house that she grew up in and moving from Florida to North Carolina was something that warranted a conversation as a family, it shouldn’t just get to be a decision that her dad made on behalf of everybody.

“Hey, uh, dad?” She mumbles nervously, shuffling around the kitchen island to step down into the living room and into her father’s line of sight.

“Yeah?” Lyle groans like old men often do as he shifts his position on the big couch in order to get a better look at his youngest daughter. “What’s on your mind, Clem?”

She pulls her phone from the waistband of her pajama shorts and opens the string of texts from Uncle Greg, tossing her phone onto the couch cushion next to her dad. “Care to explain?” She raises her eyebrow and tries to use the same parental tone he always used on her and Kimber.

Lyle picks up Clementine’s phone and tries to squint through the brightness in order to better read what was on her cracked screen. As soon as he can read Job Offering: Kildere County, Outer Banks he knows that the gig is up and he can’t hide it anymore. He sighs, running his hand over the scruff of his beard. “He was supposed to send those to my email…”

“What happened to just thinking about it?” Clementine feels her throat tighten up, her pulse on the uptick as she's overcome with a wave of anxiety and betrayal.

Lyle stands up from his spot on the couch, resting his weight on the arm of the couch as he tried to level with Clementine. “I am thinking about it, okay? There’s a lot of jobs out there — jobs that pay a lot more than I’m making over here. They had a big storm over there last summer and it made the sandbar shift, your uncle says that the fish are basically begging to be caught!”

Clementine scoffs, rolling her eyes at her father and his blind optimism. “You know he’d tell you anything you wanted if it meant that you’d be closer to him, he’s a lonely fucking bastard, dad.”

Lyle’s eyes light up at her comment. “Clementine how dare you say that about my brother — your uncle! Especially after he came all this way just to see you on your birthday!”

Clementine can’t believe the words her dad is saying: “I wouldn’t be surprised if the only reason he came was to talk you further into moving” She wants to raise her voice now, she knows that her uncle wouldn’t come all the way from North Carolina only because it was her birthday. The two of them had to have been planning this for some time now.

It’s clear that Lyle is taken aback by his daughter’s accusations, though he wasn’t confirming or denying them. “It’s not like that, okay? Clem I promise you, no one was going behind your back or your sister’s. A lot of good opportunities are falling in my lap right now and I’d be foolish not to take them…”

Clementine scoffs at her father again. “What, do you just expect all of us to pack up our lives and go? Everything we love is here, dad! Our friends are here, our family, school? Do you expect me to leave right before I’m supposed to graduate?” She can’t help but start to panic, thinking about what would happen if she had to move schools after her junior year.

Lyle takes a moment to breathe, to check his tone and his temper so he doesn’t run the risk of upsetting his daughter even further. “Clem, you’re a good kid, you’ll make friends no matter where you go. And family’s family, they’ll be supportive if it means I’ll be able to provide for you girls better.”

“How are you being so casual about this right now?” Clementine yells, finally losing her cool. Her dad was always the one to preach togetherness and the importance of family and togetherness yet he was the one trying to leave everything that they knew behind. What was the point in setting down roots if you were just going to rip them out and replant them?

Lyle sighs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Because, kid, nothing’s set in stone right now. Am I looking into things over there, yes. But nothing’s confirmed, okay?” He holds his hands out in front him, trying to deescalate.

Instead of trying to argue more or to defend herself, Clementine just shakes her head and turns on her heels, stomping down the hallway and slamming her bedroom door behind her. She throws herself onto her bed and puts her headphones on, trying to find a song to help elevate her fouled mood. She runs her fingers through her hair and massages away the tension head ache that was forming. Her bedroom is silent for a few minutes as she breathes through her anxiety about her dad considering moving to the Outer Banks; usually his ‘I’ll think about it’ was a way to soften the blow of a no but this time he was actually really thinking about it.

A knock at her bedroom door brings Clementine back to attention. “What?” She exclaims sharply, assuming it was her dad at the door trying to continue their conversation and to clear the air.

“You okay?” Kimber asks sheepishly, poking her head through the door, her eyes trained on the plush carpet.

Clementine lets out a defeated-sounding laugh. “I’m fine…are you?” Clementine wanted to allude to the pieces of Kimber’s phone conversation that she overheard.

Kimber’s eyes light up in a panic. “You heard that earlier?”

Clementine rapidly shakes her head no, not wanting to give her sister the wrong idea. “Didn’t hear anything specific, just that it sounded kind of intense.” She tries to downplay how much she heard, how she was able to figure out that it was Gat that Kimber was talking on the phone to.

“Oh” Kimber smiles sadly. “I’ll be okay, I always am.”

#fic: don’t you forget about me #obx fic #outer banks fic #outer banks oc #obx oc #obx oc: clementine adams #obx oc: kimber adams #obx oc: lyle adams

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dontbesoweirdkira · 4 years

Note

Can you do a list of Mic being pure w/ his favorite student, (y/n) (like, he’s not afraid to show it), but she’s living with her friend and their family since she’s alone in Japan, and trying to keep it a secret. But when he finds out he’s just “ASDFGHJKLWHAT”, and he’s trying to help her with so many things, which soon evolves to “custody of child—”.

https://dontbesoweirdkira.tumblr.com/post/189518600672/hey-its-me-again-i-hope-you-are-still-open-for

A/N: I first would like to say I ALSO HAVE EATEN A NUCLEAR REACTOR...it tasted like radiation and strawberries yummy! Here’s your soft present mic X student. I hope you enjoy.

(I kind of made it where you aren’t fully living with your friend. Just bouncing from the streets to her house every so often if that makes sense??)Requests open

-So at first Mic didn’t notice anything was up...well no he did but he kind of brushed it off since he didn’t want to cross any boundaries.

-Like when he asked for your parents signature but they were always somehow “out of town” or “working overtime”

-Or when he was going to offer you a ride home since it was pretty late but you just insisted to walk by yourself. And how you didn’t bother to call them and let them know you were going to be home a bit later than usual.

-He was always curious but like i said he didn’t want to cross a boundary and make you feel uncomfortable about something so personal. Besides how would he bring it up?

-”Hey Y/N, Why do you always conveniently “forget” to fill out your home address on forms?”

-Yeah see his dilemma?^ And like what if it was nothing and it really was just a convenience. It seemed better to leave it alone and not worry. You’d tell him if something was going on, right?

-Maybe one day you’re talking to your friend and He’s just around the corner so he overhears the conversation.

-”Hey Y/N, my family is going out of town for a few weeks. I- i would ask if you could come with so you’ll have some place to stay but we are going out of the county and you know how that is..”

-”Oh..um..Don’t worry, I'll figure something out.”

-”Are you sure? I- i can always leave the house key so you can have somewhere safe to go? But uhm, My cousin might come over every so often to watch a game or to check the house so be alert and make sure he doesn’t see you.”

-”N-No it’s okay, seriously. I’ll find somewhere to go, thank you though. ”

-”Well, I'll leave the key under the doormat if you change your mind, we’re leaving in the afternoon tomorrow so after then the place will be yours for a bit.I’ll text you later, ‘kay?”

-He’s shocked?? Like he thought maybe your at home life wasn’t good or maybe you were embarrassed about living in a low income place, but you were homeless?? And you’ve been staying with your friends every so often?? Why didn’t you tell him? Did you not feel comfortable? He’s in this weird state of shock and acknowledgement.

-For the rest of the school day hE Is cOnTemPlaTiNg oN WhaT tO Do. He’s not sure how he should bring it up or even if he should bring it up.

- *is casually being torn apart internally as he’s trying to teach english*

-*dEeP sPaCe STarE while he is standing at the board pointing to the sentence structures*

-”Sensei, are you oka-”

-”IMTHINKINGASHARDASICANTOFIGUREOUTASOLUTIONDONTPRESSUREMEoKaY.”

-lolol but once classes are over he taps you on the shoulder and asks if he could walk with you home for a bit. You visibly nervous, you reject and say “Umm It’s all right Mr.Hizashi, you’re busy and I don't want you to take up any of your time plus it’s late and I'm tired and i have to go and-”

-”Y/n...You don’t have to make up excuses, I know you don’t have anywhere to stay.”

-stopping in your tracks, your eyes went wide and you faced him

-”I heard you talking to that friend this morning.”

-M-mr.Hizashi I can explain-”

-cutting you off once again he begins “Hey, you don’t have to do any of that. It’s your business. But I don’t want you to just roaming around or staying anywhere alone anymore, okay? If you would like, I have an extra bedroom at my house, you can stay there until we get everything sorted.”

-”No..Mr.Hizashi...It’s okay..I’ll be okay, I’ve always have. Plus you have been such a great teacher and already went out of your way more than what I could have asked...staying with you would be too much.”

-”Y/n, it’s okay to ask for help. I seriously don’t mind. At least stay for the night so you can eat and have a roof over your head, then in the morning we’ll figure something out.”

-You hesitantly accepted but you told him that you’d be out of his hair as soon as the next morning hit.

-That night going to his house was...nice to say the least. The guest bedroom that he had was bigger than your friend’s kitchen and nicer than any place that you’ve stayed at. It really was heaven. So warm and cosy. There was a nice sense of nostalgia and security, something you’ve haven’t felt in years. His home was somewhere anyone would want to live in their whole lives.

-”Once you’ve settled down, you can come to the dining room. I ordered some take out, I figured you’d be hungry.”

-For a moment you sat on the fluffy bed and just took in everything. God was so good to you right now and honestly you thanked him. Although it frustrates you to think that this would only last for a second and you’d be back on the streets, roaming around. Yeah yeah, Hizashi wants to help you but you knew soon he’d get tired of your presence in his house…..they all did.

-Taking a deep breath, you went to go meet hizashi in the dining room.

-He welcomed you then motioned you to sit down at any of the seats at the table. “Oh hey, there’s miss america. You may sit anywhere you’d like. And help yourself to the food here.”

-You sat down across from him, only not to look at him just to have your eyes on the empty plate in front of you. You didn’t really touch any of the food actually or even make a sound. You weren’t trying to be rude or anything, you just..there was a lot on your mind and facing hizashi seemed difficult.

-”Are you okay Y/N? I hope sushi is okay. I- i meant to um ask what you would like to eat first. I’m sorry.”

-”No I’m sorry for-,” twiddling your thumbs for a moment you then looked towards the blonde fellow “Mr.Hizashi..My parents left when I was around three but they left me with my aunt. She was a very good person and took good care of me but she got very ill...and um you know. At first I was living in her apartment but i couldn’t pay for it when it was time for rent so..I stayed with my friend for a couple of months. But her parents kind of got tired of me staying there and it was this thing, so I lied and told them I found a family member to stay with. And um up until now I've been staying on the streets. Sometimes having a sleepover once every so often.”

-”Y/n…”

-”I didn’t tell you because I was so scared… I didn't know what to do and I really really don’t want to go in foster care or anything so I just thought I was better off keeping it from you. But I guess it backfired anyways because you still found out haha….I’m sorry Hizashi. I hope you don’t think of me any less. I- it was a tough situation and all and you know how that is...”

-He immeadately stood up, walked over to you and hugged you. It was with So mUcH compassion and genuine love. You really was his favorite student no scratch that HIS FAVORITE HUMAN i swear he would end the world for you.

-He gave you a little cheek kiss and was like “I’m not letting anyone put you in foster care and I'm sure as hell am not kicking you out even if i have to take custody of you.”

-”w-wait what? wAiT wHaT???”

-”KID IM fucking keeping you here safe with me even if i’m in court all year. We are going to make this work somehow, you aren’t doing this alone anymore. Do you understand?”

-YeAh hEs cRyInG iM cRyinG yOuRe CryInG wE aLl CryinG

-BRO YOU ARE UGLY CRYING NOT NO SOFT CUTE CRY LIKE HAHA YOU SOUND LIKE A WALRUS TRYING TO SAY ‘t-tH-Th-HaNKy-yyy-YoUUU-UOi mR hIzZaShIiIi”

-He whipes the tears of your cheeks and ruffles your hair

-”it’ll be okay Y/N, I promise.”

-I swear he’s like rushing to the computer and trying to figure out how to adopt you.

-”HoW tO aDoPt a ChILD wHen You aRe a hEro.”

-There's an actual wiki-how about it???????

-No but he’s really doing his research and is visiting lawyers trying to find the right one. He has them immediately looking into everything and making sure that his chances of getting you is as high as possible.

-He’s up late at night on the phone, emailing, and writing

-He has pounds and pounds of evidence that he is the most fit person to take care of you. He is not playing whatsoever

-He already let’s you decorate and he even gives you an office so you can do work or whatever. He most definitely brought you clothes and stuff for your room.

-When the courts and everything finally approves it after a long year of fighting, he picked you up and spun you around.

-”What did I tell you?!? I was not going to lose you and i made sure of that. And starting today and the rest of forever you’ll never have to be alone.”

-BonUs

-100% takes you out somewhere super fun and nice.

-”Wait we must take a selfie, The first day we are legally Father-daughter!”

-The most chaotic duo now, Everyone at school knows he adopted you and like he won't let anyone forget it.

-MISSSSSS AMERICAAAAAAA, is now, MISSSSSSS HIZAAAAASSSHHHHHIIIIIIII.

-”WHEEEEERRREEEE ISSS MYYYY LITTLE MUSHROOM???”

-”YYYYYY/NNNNN YOU LEFT YOUR BAG IN MY MINIVAN.”

-He has a minivan now. It also has a ‘Yeah I’m a soccer dad and i’m proud’ sticker on it.

-He joined the PTA

-HE IS SOOO BIASED I SWEAR NO ONE IS ABOVE YOU IN HIS CLASS AND NO ONE BETTER SAY ANYTHING ABOUT IT

-Always hugging you and giving you little cheek kisses when he sees you in the halls

-Made a titled track called “Now a dad”

-he most definitely wears ‘Best Dad’ shirts now. He also is in a ‘Single dad’s in Japan’ group now

-”I think we look just alike, Don’t we Y/N?” you both smiled and posed at the same time

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slippinmickeys · 3 years

Text

Five Seconds (5/8)

If you’d like to read on AO3, you may do so here.

October 15, 2018

The leaves were beginning to change outside the window; the maples turning russet, the birch yellow. Scully felt pendulous and gravid, the child in her belly more active than her previous two combined. Sleep was becoming difficult, but by day they’d fallen into a comfortable routine, safe and unmolested from the dangers that were beginning to feel as though they had never existed at all.

She stretched and left Mulder, half his face obscured by his pillow, his lips soft and pliant in sleep. A fresh pot of decaf awaited her in the kitchen, its automatic timer set by Mulder late last night.

The kids were still asleep, as far as she could tell -- she'd heard Lily come home well after midnight. She'd been up reading anyway when her daughter had popped her head into their bedroom door and whispered "I'm home." The girl had been wearing a small smile and Scully recognized the look. Lily was falling in love.

Will shuffled into the kitchen sleepily, a palm rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He approached Scully where she stood at the counter and put an arm around her shoulder, leaning on her. He still smelled like the sleepy little boy who liked to cuddle into her side to watch nature shows when he was six.

"Morning Mom," he said, taking a snuffly breath. He leaned down and rested his cheek against her head (he was almost as tall as Mulder, though still as skinny as a maypole). Scully wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him in closer. Affection from her kids was getting fewer and farther between now that they were active teenagers. She was determined to enjoy whatever she got.

"Morning," she said, giving his back a little rub, "you're up early."

"Yeah," he said on a yawn. "There's an open rink this morning and a couple of buddies are going. Is it okay if I join them?"

Scully nodded. "Just make sure you tell your dad, too. Know the exits before you go and keep an eye on the crowd."

Will squeezed her once and then let go, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and holding up like James Bond. "Call me Double O Billy," he said and sidled back to his room off of Scully's bemused chuckle.

She spent an hour catching up on email that had been routed through the Gunmen and Darlene -- coded messages that they interpreted and sent to her mother, sister and brothers. Melissa was giving her a hard time about not letting her fly to Europe (where she thought they were) to be her doula when the time came to give birth. She was tempted to send Byers to her sister's house to explain exactly what was happening, but rejected the impulse. Their mother -- the only person other than the Gunmen and the X-Files triumvirate at the FBI who knew their situation (though not their location for her own protection) -- would talk her down eventually.

Mulder came padding up behind her as she closed the laptop and she felt a soft, drawn-out kiss on the side of her neck.

"Morning," he mumbled into her skin.

She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair, then turned to receive his kiss.

"Morning," she said.

"I’ll be back shortly. I'm going to drop Billy off at the ice complex and then take Lil to campus -- she suddenly started liking football."

"I think it's the company rather than the sport," Scully said, turning in her chair to face him.

"...I'm going to choose to believe my version," he said.

Scully reached out and linked their fingers briefly. "Tell her to be careful," she said, "she's spending a lot of time out of the house."

Mulder nodded and squeezed her fingers. "I will," he said, "and when I get back, I have a few ideas for how we can spend our child-free afternoon." He waggled his eyebrows at her and let go, backing out of the room like the charmer he was.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“So why UVA?” Travis asked her. He had his head propped up on an elbow and his other hand was wrapped loosely around her foot, his thumb rubbing circles into her arch. She was on the couch in his dorm room and he was on the floor -- she’d been helping him study for mid-terms. They had been officially dating for five weeks and had seen each other at least every other day in that time. He’d introduced her to a couple of friends as his girlfriend.

“What?” she asked. It was hard enough to concentrate while getting a foot massage, and she’d been staring at the index cards in front of her, trying to find a question that would stump him.

“Why are you going to UVA? Brain like yours, you could have gone anywhere. I don’t think I’ve ever asked you why there.”

“Other than the in-state tuition?” She had told him that they’d moved from Virginia, but hadn’t elaborated.

“Other than that,” he smiled.

“I’ve always wanted to. When I was a kid, my dad would occasionally get called in to consult there and he would take me with him. I kinda fell in love with it.”

“What did your dad consult on?” he asked, “You don’t talk about your parents much.”

Travis tapped her other leg, and she switched feet, silencing a groan when his knuckle hit a particularly sensitive spot.

She had purposely avoided mentioning her family much and debated how much was safe to share.

“UVA has a Department of Perceptual Studies,” she said, and she saw him tilt his head in question.

“A department of what?”

“Perceptual studies,” she said, smiling, “it’s a research group devoted to the investigation of phenomena that challenge mainstream scientific paradigms regarding the nature of the mind/brain relationship.” Travis stopped rubbing her foot and looked at her. She went on, further quoting her dad’s friend Dr. Stevenson: “Their mission is the scientific empirical investigation of phenomena that suggest that currently accepted scientific assumptions and theories about the nature of mind or consciousness, and its relation to matter, may be incomplete.”

“You’re shitting me,” he said.

“I shit you not.”

“What kind of phenomena?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

She tried not to smile, “ESP, poltergeists, near-death experiences, out-of-body experiences, claimed memories of past lives.”

“And what did they want with your father?” he asked, sitting up.

She shrugged. “He’s a shrink,” she said, being deliberately vague.

“This is an accredited university?” He teased her. She kicked at him, and he ducked out of the way and laughed, then looked at her thoughtfully. “You know, I myself had an out-of-body experience with Trudy Carmichael under the bleachers when I was sixteen. Pretty sure I saw through time.”

Lily chuckled, then playfully challenged: “Do I need to worry about this Trudy Carmichael?”

“I doubt it,” he said, hanging his head, “I lost my virginity, and she lost my number. Not my finest hour.”

“A whole hour?,” Lily said wryly.

“One way to find out.”

He looked at her then and she looked back. The moment was charged and sat in between them. The truth was, Lily was still a virgin. She and Travis had messed around, but fairly innocently, and she’d demurred on action below the waist/under the clothes. “I’m not waiting for marriage,” she’d told him a few weeks back, but she did want to wait for love. If only she knew what that felt like.

“Hey, Frisbee,” Travis said when she didn’t say anything, “please don’t take this as a negotiation tactic -- you’ve been clear on your limits and I totally respect that -- and with the full understanding that you don’t need a reason, and you do you and all that -- but… do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what exactly?” she asked, clarifying.

“When I say ‘no pressure,’ I mean it,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her foot.

Lily looked around his sloppy dorm room. There were clothes strewn about, though mostly out of the way— socks balled up near the laundry hamper, a sweatshirt hanging on the back of a chair. The wooden loft that held his bed was posted around the couch, made of flimsy-looking two-by-fours, and did not look like it could hold his weight, much less hers in addition, and remained untried (though Travis swore it had passed inspection). His desk was more fastidiously kept, a reflection of his mind, a structured order in the midst of chaos. He was kind and smart. His smile could make her insides go liquid.

“Honestly?” she finally said, “it’s my parents.”

“Super religious?” he asked.

She had to stop herself from laughing. “No, it’s… My parents love each other. More than anyone I’ve ever known. Their love is like… romance film love. It’s practically written in the stars.”

He looked at her contemplatively. “That’s a lot to live up to,” he said. “Is that what it is?”

“Yes,” she said, then, “no.” It was and it wasn’t. She didn’t know if there was a love out there that could compare, she suspected there wasn’t. Her real hang-up, and she hadn’t been able to get it out of her head since she found her father’s first wedding picture in their attic -- was that her father had obviously made a mistake. What if she did too?

She laughed, annoyed at herself. This wasn’t Regency England. Sex didn’t mean marriage. It didn’t even necessarily mean love. Still...

“Come on,” she said, sitting up and grabbing for his class notes, “this bio exam isn’t going to take itself.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

A sound woke her. Her hips were in agony and sleeping was difficult, so initially she was more annoyed than anything; she could rarely line up more than 90 minutes straight of deep slumber. And then she heard it again.

She reached over, squeezed Mulder's bicep until she heard him sniff sharply awake and silently, pulled out the sidearm she kept inside her bedside table. Mulder, slipping out of bed without a word, pulled out his own gun and went to the door. He held up a hand, trying to tell Scully to stay back, but she shook her head angrily -- she would have his back whether he liked it or not.

When he moved into the hallway, she stepped on the back of his heel and he ended up ramming his shoulder into the doorframe. He swore low under his breath. They were out of sync.

She watched as he put his head into the kids rooms as he made his way down the hallway, nodding at her that they were both accounted for. One more thunk from the living room.

He sidled up to the wall that led to the room and backed up against it. He mouthed one-two-three and they went in, but where she usually went low and he went high, this time they rammed shoulders and stumbled into the room. Mulder flicked on the light when she finally had her weapon aimed true.

There, sitting on a high bookshelf sat Apgar, her black tail swishing merrily. Maintaining eye contact, she swiped one more of the professor's knick-knacks off the shelf and onto the floor.

Mulder dropped his weapon and heaved a sigh, tipping his head back in frustration. "Fucking cat," he hissed.

Mission completed, Apgar jumped down with a thump and weaved a figure eight between Mulder's legs.

"She must be hungry," Scully said.

"Hangry was invented by cats," Mulder mumbled, reaching down to pet the cat with his free hand.

"Our tactical coordination was atrocious," Scully said, flicking the light back off and holding her gun at her hip.

"Yes," Mulder agreed.

"When was the last time you went to the range?" she asked.

"It's been months," he said tiredly.

"We're going tomorrow," Scully said. Mulder knew better than to argue.

XxX

There were more than a few Molon Labe bumper stickers in the parking lot. Scully had to remind herself that they were in Michigan Militia territory. "Michitucky," she'd heard it called by a few guys at the Bureau. Nevertheless, she pulled up to the firing range with fire in her blood. She might not share their politics, but she would share their space, and show most of them up to boot.

They signed in and bought ammunition. She got a few extra looks for being a visibly pregnant woman, but most of the men (and they were all men) who were at the range gave her begrudging looks of approval. Mulder stood, standing straighter and closer than normal, practically growling at anyone who got too close. She had to admit that his fierce protective nature was more than a turn-on.

The range was outdoors -- different than what they were used to at Quantico. And where there were metal tables and dividers and state of the art equipment at the government facility, here it was all beat-to-shit plywood tables and sunburnt grass littered with shell casings and old ear plugs. They took the lane at the end.

They both loaded and checked their weapons, snugged earmuffs over their heads.

"You want to go first?" Mulder asked, double checking the safety on his pistol and setting it on the table behind their station.

"I can do that," Scully said, looking down at her Sig.

"Care for a little wager?" her husband asked.

"You can't afford me, Dr. Mulder," she said, admiring the still-lanky line of his physique.

He raised his eyebrows, and leaned back against the tall wobbly table. "Oh-ho," he said, "I suppose that depends on the currency." He had a smug look about him that she wanted to wipe off his face. She was a better marksman and more competitive than anyone gave her credit for.

"What are you offering?" she asked.

"Dishes?" he offered, "Laundry?"

"We had children for the menial labor," she challenged, "I can win this with one hand tied behind my back. Make it interesting for me."

He licked his lips. She had him.

"I liked the part about 'hands behind the back,'" he said, "Winner decides who wears the handcuffs."

"You're not exactly incentivizing this, Mulder."

He had a flushed look about him; his nostrils flared.

"Prove it," he said, and she felt a flush. Second trimester hormones could be a beautiful thing, she mused.

It took her several rounds before she got back into the groove. It actually had been too long since she'd practiced and she was rusty. Considering their current situation, she ought not to let it happen again. Her last few rounds were dead center. Once her clip was empty, she cleared her weapon and stepped back.

Mulder's turn.

He wasn't quite as out of practice as she was initially, which irritated her to no end. However, his fourth and fifth shots were a bit wide, and he ended around the edges.

When he was clear, she stepped back up and took a bracing breath. She raised her weapon and fired rapidly; all her shots were center mass except the last two, which she swung up and finished with perfect shots to the head of the paper dummy.

When Mulder stepped forward for his turn, she nudged him.

"How big would you say the back of the Yukon is?'" she asked casually.

His first three shots went wide.

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 17, 2018

“Mom?” Lily asked. There was a hesitancy in her voice that made Scully look up from where she was chopping vegetables for dinner. “How did you know you loved Dad?”

Scully set the knife down and turned toward her daughter. “That’s a big question, Lil.”

“What’s a big question?” Mulder came breezing into the kitchen, shooting Scully an intrigued look.

Scully suspected something was up, but didn’t want to embarrass their daughter. Lily had always had an inquisitive streak and would occasionally come to Scully with problems or questions, but she was apt to clam up when pressed.

“Lily was asking me about how I fell in love with you,” Scully said, trying to catch Mulder’s eye.

“It was the day she met me, no doubt,” Mulder said. He grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the counter and shined it on his sleeve before taking a snappy bite. “I’m catnip to the ladies,” he said around the mouthful. Lily smiled. Scully rolled her eyes.

“Suddenly, I’m struggling to remember,” Scully said with mock derision. Mulder gave her a cheeky grin.

“Did you know right away?” Lily asked.

Scully paused. “Not… Not right away,” she said thoughtfully.

Lily looked back and forth between her parents. “I guess it was a long time ago, huh.”

“Love in a time of sarsaparilla,” Mulder said dreamily. Scully shook her head and he caught her eye. “It wasn’t that long ago, Lil,“ he went on, and Scully felt the low bloom of feeling that always accompanied a look from her husband. For as long as she lived, she would always remember the first time she felt it; on the Tooms case, when he’d hooked his finger in her necklace and pulled.

“No, what I mean is… it was complicated,” Scully clarified.

Lily nodded and turned to her father. “You were married. Before Mom.”

“Yes,” Mulder said.

“Did you love her? Your ex wife?”

“I thought I did.”

“When did you figure out that you didn’t?” Lily asked.

“When I met your Mom,” Mulder said.

“So what you felt with Mom…”

“... was so much bigger than I was, that I couldn’t contain it.”

Scully felt her eyes well up. Mulder still sometimes had the ability to make her feel things all the way down to her toes.

Lily smiled, but looked pensive.

"But you thought you loved this other woman? I mean, enough to marry her?" she asked.

Mulder narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "What are you asking, Lil?"

Lily shook her head, her cheeks pink. She grabbed a soda from the fridge and walked out of the room.

“Oh boy,” said Scully.

“What?” Mulder asked.

“Travis,” said Scully. “She’s trying to figure it all out.”

“Jesus, he didn’t propose, did he?” Mulder asked. The look on his face was enough to make her laugh, but she held it in.

Scully turned fully to Mulder and leaned back against the countertop, crossing her arms in front of her.

“You want to know what I think?” she asked. Mulder nodded. “She’s trying to decide whether or when to...” She made a vague gesture with her hands.

Mulder looked at her, still not understanding. Scully gave him the stare of the dotard husband.

“Mulder…” she said, glaring hard.

Realization dawned and Mulder swallowed. “I should have had that boy killed,” he said.

Scully turned back to the vegetables she’d been chopping. “Let’s refrain from wetwork while we’re on the lam.”

“I make no promises,” he said, and slid up behind her, stepping in close and putting his hands on her waist.

“I had the guys check him out by way of Darlene,” Scully said. “He is who he says he is. And he seems like a decent kid. Let’s let her navigate this on her own, huh?” She felt his fingers squeeze and then they drifted down to rest on her hips.

“I don’t like it,” he mumbled, and leaned down to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to,” she said. “But you do have to accept it, and trust that we raised her to make these decisions for herself.” She remembered being nineteen and in college and in love for the first time. “You want to hear about Kevin McAvoy, my freshman year boyfriend?”

Mulder squeezed his fingers again and then started to turn her slowly toward him. She set down the knife on the counter and let him. His head was bent toward her and she felt his breath fan her face.

“No,” he said, leaning even more into her personal space.

“I was his Little Red Corvette,” she said playfully, tipping her head back in challenge. He smiled, but she saw something rough pass through his eyes. “He’d put on Prince and --”

Mulder leaned down and silenced her with a kiss.

XxXxXxXxXxX

In her room, Lily sat on the bed, the can of soda from the fridge sitting unopened on her bedside table. Condensation beaded on the side of it, sliding down silently to pool at the base, unnoticed.

Crusher liked to sleep on her pillow, and had left a black felted indent in the feathers, which Lily brushed away and fluffed. She looked about the room. Not much about it spoke of the young woman who slept there and had for months; no posters on the walls, no pennants hanging or pictures of friends. It was a sterile guest room decorated with the mute tones of an unmarried 60-something and lately it had been making her feel like she wasn't even herself.

She stood and walked to the desk, the one place she deposited her things. Her wallet, the phone Darlene had given her that she rarely used and usually kept switched off. Her purse was half hanging off -- likely knocked into such a position by a passing cat -- and when she righted it, she noticed the picture that sat under it. The photo of her father and an unfamiliar brunette, who's face conveyed confidence -- almost a smugness -- and a certain charm.

She stared at the picture. And she wondered.

XxX

October 20, 2018

Lily glanced over her shoulder when she sat, feeling as though she were doing something illegal, something fraught.

No one really used the computer labs anymore -- if you needed to, you could write an entire paper on your phone, though Lily found the practice ridiculous and immature. Nevertheless, there were one or two students sitting at the various desktops around the small library lab, and she checked to make sure no one was paying attention to what she was doing.

She tried to be careful. She had told Travis that she was hoping to log into the university's network to prep for some of the classes she’d be taking at UVA next semester and so she was using his password and login information. She'd checked to make sure there were no cameras on the area where she sat, and that her back was to the one aimed at the larger area.

With a bracing breath, she logged on.

It was surprising what you could find with a simple Google search, and the commonwealth of Virginia's vital records office would send you a copy of any marriage certificate for a fee of $45. Knowing better than to use a credit card, she'd opted for a more in depth search, and found what she was looking for in the Daily Press -- the local newspaper of record in Newport News, Virginia.

It was a wedding announcement, complete with two pictures -- one, the same picture she'd found in her parent's attic and the other of a similar style -- of Fox William Mulder and Lauren Edith Williams, married on August 17th, 1988. According to the article, Lauren had been a recent graduate of Georgetown University and had been employed at Schuster and McClure, a PR firm in the District of Columbia.

Lily looked at the new photograph on the screen before her. Her father looked so young. Only a few years older than herself. Lauren was pretty, had perfect posture, and was staring into the camera like a dare; her dress was all frills and white froth, the material of the dress ruched in large poofs at the shoulders, a crown of satin flowers around the lush brunette curls on her head. She looked like someone Lily wouldn't have dared talk to back in high school. She looked nothing like Lily's mother.

Lauren Edith Williams, she wrote down, and stared at the paper in front of her.

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 21, 2018

Lily was on the bus when she noticed him. It was his age that first drew her attention. Most everyone that rode this route (it went right into campus) was either a student or a professor, and something about him seemed the antithesis of scholarly. He had a sharp face, was dressed in loose clothing, a plain, black ball cap pulled low over his head. His knee bounced where he sat. She thought she could make out a tattoo curling onto the skin under the sleeve of his jacket. He could have been custodial staff for all she knew, but her parents had raised her to trust her instincts, and something inside of her pinged.

He hadn’t so much as looked in her direction, but she reached up and pulled the cord that requested a stop anyway, keeping him in her periphery when the bus rolled to the next stop. She was five blocks further away than she would have liked -- she was supposed to meet Travis just off campus for lunch. The man didn't move or rise from his seat. Nevertheless, she ducked out of the back door and onto the sidewalk, shouldering her purse and pretending to look at her phone. Only when the bus left with the man still on it would she exhale. The bus had just started to roll forward when it chirped to a stop and the front doors opened. The man in the cap trotted down the steps and onto the sidewalk, glancing briefly at her before turning and walking slowly west. Adrenaline awash in her bloodstream, she turned east.

The man had had a nondescript face. He was of average height and build, not someone you'd notice. She wracked her brain trying to remember when or if she'd seen him before, and had a hazy recollection of someone who might have been him: waiting outside of Travis's dorm when she'd come to visit him a couple days prior, or maybe even standing behind her in line at a coffee shop the day before. She should have been paying closer attention. Her parents had taught her to pay closer attention. Up until she'd done a search on her father and his ex-wife, she had. Lily silently cursed at herself.

She looked at her reflection in the shop windows along Grand River Avenue, trying to catch a glimpse behind her. She caught movement, but there were plenty of other people walking up and down the sidewalk. She needed a better look.

She swung up the stairs of the Student Union when she came to it a moment later, remembering walking in with her brother and dad only the month before, and felt the sharp pang of guilt.

When she reached the top of the staircase, she stopped to retie her shoe, glancing back behind her as she did so. The man in the cap was there, and had paused a ways away, looking down at his phone. Lily finished fiddling with her shoe and casually walked to the door, holding it open for a girl who was coming out, her heart hammering in her chest as she did so. Through the large doorway was a wide set of stairs going both up and down. When the door closed behind her, she bolted down the stairs to her right. There were a number of study spaces and she could pass through each one fairly quickly -- the day was busy and there were students everywhere; if she was lucky she could get lost in the crowd.

She ducked through the main lounge and past the small coffee shop on the lower level, looking behind her. She saw nothing, but that didn't mean he still wasn't coming. Seeing the full racks of clothing in the Spirit Shop across the hallway, she went inside, bending down to pretend to look at a few items on the bottom shelf.

Peering through underneath the hanging shirts, she watched as the man in the black cap came down the hallway outside of the shop and paused, turning toward it. Her heart leapt to her throat. He did a slow turn and then turned to keep walking. She kept her head down.

From the corner of her eye she caught her own reflection in the mirror outside the tiny dressing room -- she was wearing a bright blue shirt and her hair -- as bright and reflective as a stop sign, and always a part of herself she was fond of -- would give her away.

She stood, scanning the hallway outside the shop, and then she hastily pulled a green knit cap off a nearby shelf and pulled the tag off, shoving it over her head and tucking her hair up under it as quickly as she could. She grabbed a large tee shirt off the rack nearest her and took it plus the hat's tag to the counter, pulling some cash that her parents always had her carry out and plunking it on the counter.

"I don't need a receipt, thanks," she told the young woman helping her, and turned away.

"But what about your change?" the girl called after her.

"Tip jar," she said, turning back and keeping her voice low.

Once outside the store, she pulled the tee shirt over her head and made her way for the lower level exit that emptied onto campus. Seeing no one behind her, she took the steps out as fast as they would carry her and ran.

XxX

Darlene narrowed her eyes at Lily, and opened the door. “Quickly,” she said.

“Thanks,” Lily said, as Darlene let her into the house, peering around the block. “I didn’t want to use the phone.”

“I get it,” Darlene replied as she ushered Lily into her kitchen, where Lily sank onto one of the stools that sat before the peninsula of the counter.

"You want a lemonade or something, kiddo?" Darlene asked, leaning forward against the counter herself and giving Lily an expectant look -- there was more to it than just polite hospitality.

"No, thanks," Lily said, feeling the weight of Darlene's gaze and her own guilt in equal measure.

"Did you do something stupid?" Darlene asked outright and Lily, taken aback, sat up straighter, but didn't answer, thus confirming Darlene's clear suspicion. "How bad?"

"I think they found us."

Darlene huffed a breath. "Elaborate," she said.

"I... I ran a search. A couple days ago, in the university library. I was careful, but maybe not careful enough."

"What did you search?"

"My dad's ex-wife."

Darlene gave a low whistle. "Kiddo," she said, a statement.

"I know."

"Have you considered just asking him about her?"

Lily hugged herself.

"I have. I did. But… I wanted to know. For me. I don't want his version of this woman. I wanted to see for myself who she was. Is."

Darlene moved to the window and peered out, lowering the blinds as she did so. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Lily once again felt a pang of guilt. She looked down. "Not really."

Darlene moved around the counter to a sideboard table on the dining room side of the counter and began shuffling through a drawer.

"What makes you think they found you?" she asked.

"I think there's someone following me," Lily said, "I think maybe I’ve seen him a couple of times on campus, but I don’t know. I lost him and came here."

"Just one someone?"

Lily began to second guess herself.

"I think so?"

When Darlene straightened from the sideboard she was holding a pistol.

"Call your father right now, and tell him to get over here. Armed." Darlene's words were cold and calm. Lily's stomach dropped in her gut.

She reached for Darlene's phone, a relic from another time which hung on the wall, its cord coiled like a snake.

Darlene walked to the sliding glass door as she dialed the numbers, each tone sounding long and drawn out, Darlene pulled the long curtains closed with a snap.

"Dad?" Lily said, when Mulder answered.

"Hey Lil!" he sounded so relaxed, excited just to talk to her though he'd seen her that morning.

"Dad, I'm at Darlene's. She says to get over here. She said to bring your gun."

She heard his sharp inhale. “I’m coming,” he said, and then she heard a dial tone.

"Lily," said Darlene, walking over to her computer, which was booted up and sitting on her dining room table, cords snaking out of it and across the floor. She quickly typed hunt-and-peck with her right hand, the gun still clutched in her left. "I want you to go into the top right drawer in my dresser. In a small lockbox, code 9-10-9-3, you'll find an old Nokia phone. It should be fully charged. It’s untraceable. Do not turn it on. Take it. Put it somewhere safe -- your bra or your sock or underwear. Then get under my bed."

Lily walked to the hallway, her body on autopilot, her heart hammering and her blood roaring in her veins.

Darlene finished typing, clicked a few things with her mouse and then peeked an eye out the closed curtain toward the backyard, tapping the gun against the side of her thigh.

Pausing in the hallway, Lily turned back to Darlene.

"Is someone coming?" Lily asked.

"Kid," Darlene said, shooting her a look, "they're already here."

#MSR #AU #Sequel #Of the Eight Winds #shits getting real for the mulder family #fanfic #XF #my fic

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knjoodles · 4 years

Text

learn to love; jungkook | 02

pairing: teacher!jungkook x singleparent!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 3k+

summary: raising your daughter alone while simultaneously watching your ex-husband live the life of his dreams away from the two of you hurts. badly. it hurts a little less, though, when you find an unlikely friend while looking for help.

lowercase intended

01 | 03 | 04

it was day two of having to call your nanny for seyoung because you were too busy with work to get home at a godly hour. if it wasn’t for seulgi, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. anytime you needed her to cook, clean, or take care of your baby girl, she’d be on the case as soon as she could. seulgi means wisdom. you thought her parents couldn’t have chosen a better name for her.

like you, seulgi has a passion for music. seulgi recently joined sm entertainment, not as a trainee, but as a songwriter. when she brought you the news that she’d been hired, you couldn’t have been more happy for her. over coffee, she explained to you how they offered her a position as a trainee for her voice, but she insisted she would go on as a songwriter because she loves taking care of children, especially seyoung. although seulgi was so cheerful to let you know, you felt as though you had dragged her down from something she may have considered a dream. as you confessed your worry, she begged you not to, saying she knew she wouldn’t be happy as an idol and that she’d get a larger sum of money as a songwriter. her words calmed you, making you feel like, for once, you haven’t done anything wrong. seulgi was like your second daughter, and you love her just as much as you love seyoung.

“yes, (y/n), seyoung’s in bed! she begged me to make her something new for dinner, so we made pasta together. i just sent you a picture.” seulgi chuckled through the phone, your call about five minutes in.

“ i’m so glad you guys had fun. i'm guessing she slept later than usual?” you sighed, relieved. you can always count on seulgi.

“of course she did, you know how seyoung is.” you could practically see her cheerful smile through the phone. “she said, and i quote, ‘mommy isn’t here today, so i’ll go to sleep as late as i want!’ and about ten minutes after that, she was out cold.”

“seulgi-ah, i can’t believe how lucky i am to have found you. i don’t think i say this enough, but thank you so, so much.” phone balancing between your ear and shoulder, you fumbled with your keys, pulling open your purse to find them.

“it’s no problem, (y/n). you and seyoung are like my second family.” seulgi paused, the sound of a door shutting softly from the other end of the line. “and… i've cleaned up seyoung’s room! any plans for tonight?”

“tonight?” you questioned aloud, finally finding your keys and stepping into your car. glancing at the digital clock on your dash, you realized it was three in the morning, and poor seulgi was still in your house watching over your daughter. “uh, well, i'm going to meet seyoung’s teacher at four, so that’s new.”

seulgi giggled quietly. “did seyoung do something wrong? i know she’s naughty at home, but i never would’ve thought she would mess around at school!”

“of course, not, she’s got (l/n) blood in her. we deceive everyone with out good looks and amazing personalities.” you joked, earning a shared laugh. “her teacher emailed the parents asking to meet with us, and i decided to sign up as soon as i could. he sounds really excited to get to know seyoung, so i’d like to get to know him.”

“fair enough, (y/n)! if i may ask, how far away are you from home?” seulgi questioned, a tone of uneasiness in her voice.

“about two-ish minutes away? why do you ask?” you answered, silently thanking the world that the traffic wasn’t bad this morning. after all, it’s three in the fucking morning. who other than rebellious teenagers or stressed-out parents are driving at this hour?

“ah, no worries, then. i have classes today, and i thought i might be late or too tired to go if i stayed.” there was a short pause, the faint sound of your car pulling into the driveway on the other end. “i see you!” seulgi cheered. “i’ll come out to greet you, (y/n)."

almost trudging out of your car, you emerged from the driver's seat, the garage noisily opening behind you. “hi, seulgi.” you groaned. the headlights of your car reflected against what storage you have inside of your garage, straining your eyes and what energy you had left at this point. seeing her approach, you grabbed onto her hands, holding them tightly and shaking them with a firm grip. “thank you, thank you so much for staying with seyoung this late. i know it inconvenienced you, and i'm sorry about that.”

“(y/n), it’s fine! i'm just doin’ my job.” seulgi smiled crookedly, her hair falling towards her face. “good night!” seulgi waved, bowing politely before walking out of your garage cheerfully. you smiled and watched her get into her car, making sure she at least got in safe.

the moment her car was out of sight you nearly collapsed in the middle of your garage from exhaustion. pulling your purse from the passenger’s seat, you closed your garage door, making sure to shut the door into your house from your garage to make sure seyoung was not disturbed. throwing your purse onto your desk in defeat, you pulled off your flats and shuffled towards your dresser. kicking off your pants angrily and throwing it, along with your shirt, into your hamper, you pulled on the nearest tank top you could and tumbled into your bed, allowing your body to be consumed in the sheets. you laid your head onto your pillow, holding your phone up to spot a new notification from seulgi. “oh, the picture.” you thought aloud.

swiping up to see what she’d sent, a photo of a smiley seyoung, face covered in pasta sauce, greeted you, noodles laying across her face and being gripped in her small hands. it made you smile, seeing how happy your baby girl was. a second picture accompanied it, showing seulgi with a tomato sauce baby handprint on her left cheek, her and seyoung making silly faces.

you put your phone to charge next to you, happy that your night — or day, rather — had ended on such a happy note. you felt yourself letting go of the ‘family’ mindset. all the family you needed was right here.

you groaned in annoyance, the sunlight pouring from your window blinding your eyes as you opened them. adjusting your eyes to your current situation, you felt a huge pressure on your chest, wriggling under whatever was sitting on top of you. “mommy, mommy!” a girl’s voice chirped, shaking your shoulders lightly.

“seyoung…?” you groaned, lifting your head to find your daughter straddling your stomach, smiling happily at you in her purple iridescent pajamas, the sunlight bouncing off of the sparkles creating a disco ball inside your bedroom.

“mhm!” she nodded her head furiously. “mommy, it’s time for school. your alarm woke me up, but it didn’t wake you up, so i decided to be mommy’s alarm instead!” seyoung explained, letting herself fall onto the unoccupied pile of blanket next to you.

shaking the covers loose, you emerged from your bed, bedhead and all. making her leave the room so you could quickly change into something more ‘responsible parent’ ready, you followed your marching daughter to her room, letting her pick out what she wanted to wear. she twirled stylishly, modeling the new navy blue skirt you bought her, something newly added to her school’s uniform. “you look so pretty, se-se.” you complimented sleepily, chuckling at her playful spirit that could rise so early in the morning. it was something you always admired of your daughter, and you hoped she’d never lose it.

you laughed happily at your daughter grabbing your wrist in determination and leading you back to your bedroom, where your large master bathroom stood. seyoung always told you how much she liked it in comparison to her bathroom, because in the master bathroom, she could sit on the counter and watch you style her hair from almost every angle. you pulled her up to the counter and brushed her hair, the brush falling gracefully, barely meeting a knot in her hair. knowing how much she enjoys wearing colorful clips with her outfits each day, you paired blue butterfly clips with her navy skirt. she seemed to enjoy this, pointing to the matching accessories with a wide grin on her face.

“se-se,” you called, tieing your hair into a ponytail and putting a jacket on after putting her cereal on the dining table. “eat your breakfast! mommy has to make sure your teacher doesn’t think she looks silly.”

seyoung’s giggles erupted from the far end of your house, the sounds of her small footsteps pattering against the hardwood floor approaching you quickly. “okay, mommy!” she bounced when she saw you, pausing for a moment before dashing towards the dining table to eat quickly. you chuckled at your daughter’s seemingly endless amount of excitement, reentering your bathroom to clean yourself up. looking up at your nude face, you sighed, spotting how deep your eye bags had gotten. from the time seyoung was born, caring about your looks became a thing of the past, but now, you’re starting to wonder whether or not you should get back on that self-confidence train. because right now, it looks like that train derailed, and even though it no longer has a path, it keeps on chugging. so, in conclusion, a bad thing’s consequences are finally showing up, and without dealing with that first bad thing, another bad thing is bound to happen. lightly dabbing on some concealer and foundation, you fixed the signs of a mother with ‘parent of the year’ button hanging by a thread. looking at yourself once again, you felt a pot of confidence beginning to bubble in your chest. makeup isn’t necessary and never will be, but sometimes, it’s nice to feel nice.

“i’m done!” seyoung called, the sound of cluttered dishes in the kitchen sink clattering against each other.

“be careful!” you warned, worried she may break something and end up hurting herself or damaging something else. fear piling up in your mind as you imagined each and every terrible outcome possible, you rushed towards the living room, just to find a calm seyoung sitting on the couch, her backpack securely attached to her back and her legs dangling from the floor. sighing silently in relief, you adjusted your posture, offering your hand to your daughter. “ready to go?” you smiled brightly as you felt your larger palm engulf her soft hand.

“seyoungie, i’m meeting your teacher today!” you said happily, eyes darting towards the rear-view mirror to see her mid-drive.

“really?” she smiled, kicking her legs in excitement. “you’re meeting mr. jeon?” her voice became higher, indicating her exhilaration.

“mhm!” you nodded, amused at how elated she was at this news. “how’s mr. jeon, anyway? do you like him? is he fun?” you asked, wanting to know what exactly made her so enthusiastic about this specific teacher. in the past, seyoung’s always been excited for school, but never her teachers. she’d go on and on about what drama her seven-year-old classmates would have, but never completely ditch the narrative to talk about a teacher.

“i really, really like mr. jeon, mommy.” seyoung explained, hugging her lunchbox. “on the first day of school, he gave us all these gummy candies that are supposed to be healthy for us, and gave us an extra one whenever we got the names right in the name game we were playing! he did it so we could get to know everyone in the class. and- and then, he showed us his tangerine points! for every time the class does well on a quiz or something, then we get a tangerine point! if we get ten tangerine points by the end of the year, he said we can have a tangerine party!” she squealed, kicking her legs even faster at the thought of treats — it was one incentive for kids, but something completely different for seyoung. she loves snacks, no matter what it is. if you have celery, and you offer her one, she’ll ask for more until you say no. but, then again, who could say no to such a cute face? “oh! oh! and, he’s a super fun teacher. yeah, he makes math fun. and you know mommy, you know how much i don’t like math.”

“yes, baby, i know. math is our mortal enemy.” you laughed, finally arriving at her school. you looked over the dashboard, searching for an empty spot to park.

“there he is!” seyoung yelled, slamming her hands up against the window. “that’s mr. jeon! that’s him!”

“seyoung! you nearly scared the life out of me!” you gripped your wheel in shock, the loud bang of her palms hitting the glass startling you to a point you didn’t even know she could. thankfully, you’d gotten in the spot safely without hitting anyone in the process.

“awe, mommy, you missed it! now he’s in the school.” she pout, crossing her arms against her lunchbox.

you stepped out of your car carefully, taking a deep breath of fresh, outside air to calm your senses. “baby, i know you’re excited about your teacher, but you can’t scare mommy like that. we could’ve gotten hurt, you know, and that wouldn’t be fun. if you get hurt, mommy will be sad, daddy will be sad, mr. jeon will be sad, and so will all your friends!” you pulled seyoung out of her car seat, pulling her bag from the spot next to her and handing it to her.

“what about yubin auntie?” seyoung asked, looking up at you in wonder, still clutching her lunchbox.

“yes, also yubin auntie.” you swallowed your anger and nodded, knowing that seyoung’s relationship with ‘yubin auntie’ was much more friendly and less backstabbing than yours. “we’ll all be sad.” the two of you walked into seyoung’s school, seyoung greeting her friends older and younger than her and you earning smiles and waves from those you’re familiar with. she led you to her room quickly, where she opened the door to reveal it.

the classroom was decorated beautifully, bright colors and fun posters and class supplies adorning the walls. the whiteboard was labeled very neatly, with the tangerine point scoreboard drawn in its own box, embellished with cute magnets that were found across the board as well, mostly being used to hold up pieces of paper. you turned to the wall next to you, which held petite hooks where his students could put their bags, a little name tag above each one in each child’s handwriting, decorated the way they liked. your eyes, flying from decoration to inspirational poster and back to a decoration finally landed on the teacher himself, who was leaning over his desk to what looked like thumb through some papers.

“mr. jeon!” seyoung called, her teacher’s head immediately turning to see who’d called him over, looking to be near your age. “mr. jeon, good morning!” she waved vigorously.

“seyoung!” he replied, a dazzling smile cracking across his face. you, now getting a good look at her teacher, now saw why seyoung was so enthusiastic about him. with just one word, you could tell just how devoted he was to each and every one of his students. you could basically see the same excitement in seyoung’s eyes reflected in his own. not to mention, he was insanely attractive — but it’s not like seyoung was old enough to worry about that, yet. “good morning to you, too! how are you?"

“i'm good!” seyoung piped, waddling over to place her bag on her designated hook. “that’s my mommy!” she motioned to you, mr. jeon’s soft, brown eyes immediately meeting yours.

“ah, the famous ms. (l/n)!” he smiled, walking closer to you. “seyoung, you can sit down until class starts! i’ll talk to your mom for a little bit.” he asked, nodding towards her seat. you’ve never seen seyoung respond to an order from an adult so quickly. honestly, you were a little jealous. “seyoung is quite the talker, but you wouldn’t believe how much she talks about you. and now, day four into the new school year, i can finally meet you!” he offered his hand to you, you holding it lightly to shake it.

“oh, that’s so flattering,” you chuckled, glancing down at his hand. huh, no ring. “we’re set up for a four pm parent meeting today? i just wanted to pop in to get to know you and see the classroom seyoung goes on and on about. she talks about you a lot, too.” you complimented.

“yes, we are! and, i’m so happy to hear seyoung likes me and my class. i remember when i was a student, i had this epiphany: a teacher’s job is to teach because they want to teach, so why not make the students come because they want to learn? so, i build my teaching style around that, but, i make sure i don’t distract them too much with the gifts and games. school’s main purpose is knowledge, right?” he joked, laughing heartily.

“i'm very happy that seyoung is happy at school. you’re truly making her day. i do have to run now, but i’ll see you later at four, hopefully, to discuss seyoung and more about your class?” you asked, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. fuck, did that make you look uncomfortable? well, you’re always uncomfortable, but it’s not because of him nor this conversation!

while you were in your state of mild panic, mr. jeon flashed you the same energetic smile he gave seyoung. “of course and of course! i look forward to seeing you again, miss…?” he trailed off, hoping to get your name.

“(y/n).” you replied, feeling confident, though not understanding why your cheeks felt so hot. “(y/n), seyoung’s mother.” you reiterated, adding a fact about yourself you were most proud of.

“miss (y/n), seyoung’s mother.” he repeated, his face softening to an understanding look, his lips curling upwards. “until we meet again, miss (y/n)." tag list:

@ggsmashgg, @childishbxmbino

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 3 years

Text

Back Before You Lost the One Real Thing You've Ever Known

Summary: Rebecca spent over a year trying to coax feelings back out of Rafael Barba, only to have it all end abruptly when he lashed out. The attorney wasn’t able to fight the urge to fire first. When he needed comfort, she tried to reach out to no avail, but she’s been able to steel herself now. After all, creating a life changes you.

Pairings: Rafael Barba x OC

First Part

A/N: A few more ideas came up.

Oh, your sweet disposition And my wide-eyed gaze We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate

Rebecca should have known better than to try and be there for Rafael Barba. She’d met him when she’d had to testify to what she’d walked in on in another Kindergarten classroom, the one eventually taken over by Al. He’d prepped her, and conversation came easily between the pair. After he’d gotten his guilty verdict, he’d asked her to get celebratory drinks now that the ordeal was over. They’d met several times throughout the investigation and trial, and Rebecca saw a determination to put abusers away and a quick wit that led her to accept his invitation eagerly. What she didn’t realize was that while her infatuation with the handsome prosecutor grew, so would the issues they ran into. It wasn’t easy for him to express anything but the cocksuredness he portrayed in the courtroom. Once he relaxed, he’d sing along to the radio or tell her stories from his childhood, but she sensed a careful wall.

At first, she’d assumed the wall was a sign of maturity; he was significantly older, though she hadn’t guessed it at first. As thirty came closer for her, fifty was coming closer for him. Maybe that was why he was so hesitant to tell her what was going through his head. He was always fine, but he’d had longer to learn to be fine. Meanwhile, she’d come home and cry because she couldn’t fix the fact that her student’s dog had died or they couldn’t afford lunch. Often, he’d stare at her, and she was certain he was thinking how ridiculous she was. Each time she gave him a defense, telling him that she prayed she’d never be numb to these feelings like some of her colleagues. To her, it was a sign she was feeling, and she strived to love without expectation. And each time, he’d hold her close and tell her that her extreme empathy was what he liked so much.

And despite his hesitance to share, he was sweet overall. When he learned how much she’d been wanting to sneak away to the mountains, he rented them a cabin. She’d watched the trees go by, in awe as she watched paths wind through the woods. On occasion, her hand would fly to his arm, and she would squeal as she pointed out an animal in the woods. She could remember the soft smile he’d affixed her with, the first time she was sure he did love her. It had been six months, and she’d been assuring him she loved him for three. It was hard for her not to hear it back, and anytime she felt jealous of the points her friends were at in their relationships, she’d remind herself he wasn’t as open as their partners. Being significantly older didn’t make him immune from hang ups. He’d sung her the sappy songs that came up with his phone on shuffle, and Rebecca couldn’t have predicted the way this would all sour a short year later. When she closed her eyes, she could still see him with a crooked smile and her hand in his, serenading her with a Frank Sinatra song.

After wishing and praying for him to come home, he was standing there, still with devastatingly gorgeous eyes and now with a sprinkling of gray in his hair and new beard. His dress wasn’t as meticulous as it used to be, and part of her wondered if he had intended to come here at all. Dark jeans and a tucked in button down shirt? In the city? The snow clung to his hair and beard and lashes, but she could suddenly feel everything all too well. The way she felt about him, the way his hands felt on her skin, his lips on hers, the insecurity when he couldn’t share, the overwhelming relief when he did. And now he was standing there, saying he loved her and she didn’t have to believe him. Tha last part was the hardest because it did let her start to consider that he’d never been so okay with uncertainty. He’d always been the one to say you know how I feel, or once he’d said it, you know I love you. She was always supposed to take what he said as fact, and now he wasn’t expecting it.

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it I'd like to be my old self again But I'm still trying to find it

When he’d said he loved her, it was late at night, and she wasn’t positive he knew she was awake. He’s said it with such sincerity, however, that she wrapped her arm tighter around him, hearing his sharp intake of breath. It would be a year the following week, and relief washed over her to have something she knew to be true so easily confirmed. I love you, he’d repeated so easily, nuzzling into the crook of her neck as his fingers trailed up her sides. For Rafael, touch was what he used to say what he couldn’t with words. If he couldn’t tell her, he could show her, and that had worked for her. But now? As he laid over her, they moved together, and she could hear his whispered, reverent I love yous? There were no words. But in the weeks afterwards, things began to deteriorate, and she focused on the fact he was probably grappling with the shift and the fear she’d do to him what Yelina had. That said, she wasn’t going to bend her life to his trauma. He was old enough to know he needed help but too stubborn to get it. She’d been so excited to share her plans with Al. They were the two kindergarten teachers at the small school they taught at, and the last partner she’d had was stand offish and now in prison, thanks to Rafael.

Just get a fuckin’ room already.

Raf, he’s my coworker. We’re friends.

You know exactly what he wants from you, and you want it too.

What are you saying? I’m a slut or something? You know you’re it for me.

A spade’s a spade.

Crushed was an understatement. She’d gone home, spent weeks working through things at least enough to leave him a letter. He wasn’t a bad guy, and the guilt she felt for slapping him was overwhelming. He’d opened up to her recently, told her his dad had been abusive. And she slapped him? It was different, she knew, but still, Rebecca was incapable of not apologizing to him for any negative response he could have.

And as time went on, she couldn’t go back to who she was before. Things had been irrevocably shifted by Rafael, and she began to be more hesitant with new people. She’d loved Rafael in a way she hadn’t before, felt she understood him as she hadn’t before. And she thought he’d understood her. The implication she’d cheat so easily and make him feel like she knew Yelina had was enough to give her a wall she hadn’t before.

After all, creating life changes you.

Al had been the first one to comment on it. After weeks on the phone with him in hysterics, she’d started just saying she was fine. There had been dozens of phone calls to Rafael between Christmas and the new year, and he’d ignored each. She felt weak for how badly he’d managed to hurt her and how unable she was to find the beauty in it. Each night, she’d try to sleep and see every moment they’d spent together running through her mind like an old projector, flickering as it moved from the reel of Rafael in the three piece suit balancing coffee as he came to visit her while she prepped in July to the one of him begrudgingly joining her on a hike in the mountains.

You’re not okay, Bec. Me and Rodney are worried about you.

It’s nothing.

It’s not nothing, okay?

It’s nothing.

It took until Rafael’s trial for Rebecca to drop the black and white image on Al’s desk, her name and six weeks, four days in small letters at the top and a fetal ultrasound visible. Al stared at it, finding the date and doing the math, the realization she was ten weeks along. He looked up at her with wide eyes, pulling her into a hug. As Al cooed she’d be okay against her temple, promised to support whatever she did and murder Rafael if need be, she cried into his jacket. She didn’t go back to her apartment for three days, instead staying in Al and Rodney’s spare bed and avoiding the news. After Al’s encouragement, she emailed Rafael finally, calling the matter time sensitive, but she never heard back.

'Cause there we are again when I loved you so, back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known. It was rare. I was there. I remember it all too well.

It was easy, even three years after the last time she saw him, to transport herself to the seat beside his, and as she looked into his eyes where he stood on her stoop, the snow clinging to his beard and hair and the deep gray jacket, she wanted to cry because things weren’t as easy as they were four and a half years before. Their daughter was born the August after he left, and Rebecca didn’t know how to tell Rafael that what had changed was so cosmic. God had given her this little girl, now two and a half, eagerly waiting on Christmas eve the next night. The little girl who Rebecca had felt she was supposed to let know who her father was. She could recognize Rafael, though without the suits and with the beard, Rebecca thought there was a chance the little girl wouldn’t know. It suddenly struck her how easily Catalina could get out of the toddler bed she’d moved to, and the real possibility she’d call down for water or a story at any moment.

She’d taken her to the same church she attended with Rafael, sat in the same pew. After giving birth, Rebecca had tried going by his apartment, finding it rented out and receiving the news he was in Iowa. She’d never met his mother, and Rebecca didn’t want to approach anyone in case he wanted nothing to do with them. Al and Rodney had been a blessing, always eager to step in to babysit or give her the adult company she needed. Their daughter looked almost infuriatingly like her father, with expressive green eyes and thick dark hair. She’d also make the same faces as him from time to time. One of the pictures framed in the living room showed her with her mouth set in the same frustrated line as she rolled her eyes in a huff. Every reminder rubbed the wound open again, but she’d gotten tougher.

Creating a life changes you.

“Rafael, no one had ever hurt me like that.” He had the decency to look ashamed, maybe even more than he needed to, and shift his weight from foot to foot.

“I know. I was so afraid, Becca. I thought I loved Yelina. I didn’t. I was forty-six, falling really, actually in love for the first time. I felt stupid and afraid, and I lost the only good thing I had. The only person who loved the fucked up, broken parts.”

“I was there, Rafael. I was calling. I even emailed.”

“You emailed?”

“After the trial. About two weeks later.”

“Dios mio,” he ran his hand over his face, letting out a low groan. “You emailed my work email, didn’t you?”

“It’s the only one you use.”

“I resigned the day I was found not guilty. Mi corazón, I lost access that day.”

“You never got my email?”

“No. I ignored your calls, and that was stupid. But I’d have taken any communication then.”

“We’re going to need to talk about something then.”

“Who is he?” The way Rafael had resigned himself to the idea she moved on was something she’d expected to feel hurt by. Instead, she saw his face free of anger. “Becca, I want you to be happy. If someone else could make you happy, I’m glad.”

“Raf-” she could hear the slightest movement. It was ten o’clock and every night around this time, she’d give Catalina a cup of water or lay with her until she slept again.

“Oh god, you’re with someone else and he’s here? I can go. I just- I had to try.”

“No. There’s no one else. It’s just-”

“Mama!” she heard echo down the stairs, and Rafael’s eyes snapped to hers.

“Mama?” he asked, and she opened the door to him finally.

“I have to get her back to sleep. Go sit at the dining table.”

#rafael barba #rafael barba x oc #rafael Barba x reader #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #writing

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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

Text

Blended

I was (thankfully) given some time off during this holiday season; which I promptly used to spend time with the family and recharge at home. Also spent time watching various movies during this time and a little LoK story idea came from it.

In my usual writing preference – it’s still a Lin/Tenzin endgame story but – in sort of a modern setting AU, blended family/semi-highschool themed with ages differed a bit (Lin and Tenzin was aged down by around 5 years). Expect it to be tropey and may be a bit of a cliché. This is written on a whim so if it doesn’t make sense…ah well. Haha! May edit this piece later on…

I’m considering this to be a short story, just a little self-indulgent-written-for-fun type of thing. But if other people enjoy it too then that’s such an added bonus so I’m sharing it with you as well. 😊 Let me know what you think since this is somewhat different from my usual style, I guess.

Also – I have misgivings regarding creating OCs so I’m likely to lean on canon characters and take a lot of creative license in developing them for the story.

---

Title (tentative): Blended

Legend of Korra, Lin/Tenzin, Modern AU, no bending

(Not sure if one-shot or will be multi-part yet)

---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School

“Thank you for making time to meet today,” The silver-haired lady clasped her hands together on her desk. “I know you must have a packed schedule, but I think it would be good to have the check-in session for your daughter today.”

“Yes, of course – anything for my daughter.” The bald and bearded man threw a look at the door’s window, where he could see his daughter swinging her legs while seated at the corridor.

“Ikki is a bright child and she’s been doing her best to catch up with the class requirements. She excels the most at individual tasks.” The teacher continued to talk a little bit more about the projects that the students have been working on.

Teacher Yue handed the father a folder marked “Ikki”. Tenzin carefully picked it up and looked into the contents, smiling as he saw Ikki’s artworks and class outputs.

“However, I see that she seems to have challenges in adjusting in a large class set-up.” Yue shared. “It’s nothing to worry about though. We’ve had several transferees in the past as well and this is usual; I expect that might take a little bit longer since it’s a transition from homeschooling to a big school.”

Tenzin frowned and he hurt for his daughter. His two children had both been homeschooled until recently.

They also had to experience a lot of upheaval in the past year or so – from the divorce, to being uprooted from their childhood home, moving to a new city, and then going to a new school.

He did notice that while his son was as precocious as ever (maybe owing to his young age?), his daughter had become more subdued since their move.

“What can we do for her?”

“Well, we have a big sister-little sister type of mentorship program.” The teacher pushed forward a brochure and several index cards. “It’s mostly an afterschool interaction activity, we have here several students who have been volunteering. Maybe you’d like to ask Ikki to join?” She pointed at the index cards. “Feel free to select which mentor you think would help her best. We usually ask the parent or the student to select their preferred mentor profile from the roster. We would not want Ikki to feel uncomfortable; you’d know her best than any teacher.”

He nodded. After a few moments perusing the index cards and the brochure and pulled out one from the pile. “Let’s go with this girl.”

Tenzin pointed out to a profile labelled Jinora.

---

Jinora, Home

The ten-year old girl has just finished putting hair in a bun when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.

“Jinora!” It was her oldest brother. “Mom says I can use the car today – want to leave with us instead of riding the bus?”

“Sure!” She called back, quickly grabbing her backpack. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Alright!”

Smack!

“Hey! Why did you do that for?”

“Good morning bro!”

Jinora rolled her eyes good-naturedly. That was probably her other brother slapping the arm of the other one.

Even at eighteen and sixteen years old respectively, they tend to act like children occasionally to the consternation of their mother.

She hurried down, knowing that if she did not do so, there would be no pancakes left for her.

Jinora heard her mother’s gruff voice in the dining room. “Bolin! Leave some eggs for your sister!”

“But, Mom,” Bolin spoke through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “I’m a growing boy. I need this stuff.”

“And Jinora is a growing girl,” Their mother drolly responded, taking a sip of her coffee after putting down the last batch of pancakes on the platter. “There should be enough from everyone.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Jinora immediately sat down and her brother forked two pancakes to her plate. “Thanks, Mako.” She slathered butter all over the cakes then squeezed a load of maple syrup.

She ignored Bolin gagging at her left at the amount of sweetness. She also ignored her mother who was hiding a smile and shaking her head at seeing the display.

In their family, it was only Jinora had a penchant for sweets. Her mother said she likely took after her father in that regard.

Her father…her absentee father…

Jinora shook off her maudlin thoughts when she saw Pabu, Bolin’s pet guinea pig, land on her mother’s shoulder, probably hopping from her brother’s backpack which was hung behind his chair.

Pabu began chewing their mother’s greying hair without warning.

Wheek-wheek-wheek.

“BOLIN!”

“I’m so sorry, Mom! Pabu get down from there – leave mom’s hair alone!”

All in all, it was another morning in their household.

It was noisy and sometimes chaotic, but Jinora would not exchange it for the world.

---

Ikki, library

Truth be told, Ikki liked going to school. She even liked her teacher and classmates.

She liked to be busy and the activities were very interesting. Getting homeschooled and only seeing their tutor, nanny and Meelo had become very tedious anyway.

Staying at their old home also reminded her acutely that their mother was not there anymore. She did not understand what happened, but she tried to.

It has been more than a year since their parents sat her and her brother down to explain that they were separating but it did not mean they did not love her and Meelo any less.

At first, she thought it might have been her fault (or maybe Meelo’s fault for that matter, he did fart a lot and that annoyed her terribly). Her dad and mom were quick to quash those theories, however. They spoke of drifting apart, change in priorities and other grown-up things that she supposed she will understand when she gets older.

But for now, she supposed as she opened her notebook on one of the long tables in the library, they would need to get used to their new living arrangement.

It was difficult last year as they were shuttled to and from two households. It also did not help that their mother was starting out with her new venture had been spending less time at her home. On the other hand, Ikki noticed their father spending more time with them, cutting down his work hours. It all came to a head when Pema had said she will be moving to another country to establish her new business. And so, they ended up -.

“Hey, are you Ikki?”

Ikki looked up to see an older girl with dark brown hair in a bun.

She nodded her head yes.

The girl gave her a bright smile and extended her hand.

“I’m Jinora and welcome to Republic City!”

---

Lin, Future Industries Head Office

Lin tiredly wiped her glasses clean before putting them on again, rereading her email response for one last time before hitting send.

It had been a long yet productive day. Her team had managed to fulfill all the visual design requirements that were due that day. She reviewed the different files sent to the printers, making sure that the final and correct collaterals were attached.

Her last task was to ensure that the last set of proposals were on-brand and aligned with Future Industries’ visual identity. Once she had provided her comments and revisions needed on the file, she sat back as she waited for the files to be uploaded to their server.

She reached for her cellphone, wanting to check on her kids while waiting. She looked at their family group chat and read messages from the last time she sent one.

Ohana (Lin repressed the urge to cringe. That was the final time that she would ask Bolin to create their group chat)

Lin: Kids – as mentioned earlier, I’ll be home a bit late. No need to drop by to fetch me; have dinner already and don’t wait up.

Jinora: Mom, I’ll be staying behind after class – I got a mentee! ☺ Mako Bolin can you wait up?

Mako: Jinora Bo has training today; I think we can wait for you.

Bolin: Jinora 👍🏼

Jinora: Mako Bolin thanks! 🙌

Jinora: Mako what will you be doing while waiting? You sure you’ll be okay?

Mako: Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.

Lin scrolled through some more messages. Knowing her eldest, Mako would like skulk off to the library.

Jinora: I met my mentee this afternoon. She’s such a lovely girl.

Lin smiled at this. Her daughter had always been the polite one.

Jinora: Her name’s Ikki and she’s two years younger than me. She said she and her father had first checked out Patola Mountain Primary.

Lin frowned. Patola Primary was far; she went there as a child.

Mako: Kid didn’t like it there?

Jinora: They didn’t have the chance to know. They had to move besause of her father’s job.

Bolin: heeey sorry guys- just about to be done with training. Just gonna shower …unless I just shower at home?

Jinora: Ew, no Bo. Shower first please

Mako: Agree. You’ll stink up the car, bro.

Ding!

Lin drew her attention from her phone as her laptop screen indicated that the files have been uploaded. She hit the send button and packed up for the day.

She was looking forward to spending some quiet time with her kids tonight.

---

Bumi, White Lotus Headquarters

Bumi leaned back in his fully ergonomic chair, thinking about how times had changed.

Being in an office was something he balked at when he was younger. But now, after serving a long career in defense and military, he submitted his retirement and come to the aid of his younger brother.

Ah, his only brother – back in the day, he would be hard-pressed to keep contact with his brother.

His brother who took on the role of spearheading their family’s company back when their father died.

His brother who had the task of continuing to revive the company and making sure it keeps up with the times.

His brother, who, despite being the youngest, was tagged by the board of directors as the heir apparent owing to his excellent academic records.

His brother who Bumi had felt envious of at some point. He later on realized that his brother actually missed out on a lot of freedom in his life.

His brother who managed to keep their company part of the Top 100 and make malls relevant again.

His brother who probably made some life decisions for the benefit of their company rather than his own.

His brother who had been through hell and back the past year when he and his much younger wife called it quits. His brother whose ex-wife is now galivanting somewhere in the Fire Nation, expanding a business built on horticulture and floristry.

His brother who, despite making some decisions that Bumi might not agree with, is still family.

And if there was anything that their parents taught them – family is permanent.

The ex-military man took a deep breath, looking at their last family photo. For what it’s worth, he liked to think that their fragmented family had found its way back into each other in their adulthood.

Bumi had to admit that Tenzin did have remarkable business acumen that benefited their company, a conglomerate built on the mall industry. With the fourth industrial revolution at hand and the shift towards virtual and digital, the White Lotus Corporation had been challenged during the last years of their father’s life. Tenzin had worked hard to change the ways of working and the culture in the company.

To do it, he had to make sure that there is a buy-in from the board. Ironically, to bring the company to the current century, he had to abide with one of the most archaic practices – an arranged marriage, a marriage that would serve as a press release to the business world in general, that their company was stable and there to stay.

Bumi had been surprised to get a call from Tenzin back then. He had called to let him know of his impending engagement, seeking support. Bumi had cheered, given his congratulations – but named the wrong bride. He had launched into a long tirade, berating his brother for his choices. Tenzin had shouted back his defense.

He still did not understand why Tenzin acted the way he did. However, he could never regret his niece and nephew which came from this questionable business-like union.

Bloop-bloop-bloop.

Speaking of which…

“Hey Uncle Bumi!”

“Hello there, cloudchild!” Bumi greeted his niece with a nickname his sister Kya came up with, given that the kids were actually born somewhere near the mountains. “How’s the new school?”

“It’s great!” Ikki beamed at him and gushed into a long narrative of what she had been up to in the past days.

Bumi enjoyed video conferencing with his niece and nephew. Granted, Meelo had a short attention span but Ikki had always had the flair for storytelling.

It pleased him to see her spark back. He had heard from his brother and their trusted bodyguard/chauffeur Shung that Ikki had been withdrawn during the first weeks in Republic City. It saddened him to learn that the otherwise bubbly child had been affected in that way.

“…And then, I invited her over! Daddy said it was okay – and she’s sooooo nice. Didjaknow she also knows how to play the piano! We practiced a bit. She’s good even if her family didn’t have a piano, they only had this electronic keyboard but it’s so short. But she did well. She said she had a stepdad and it was totally okay. They’re a happy family. D’you think I’ll have a stepmom too? I think it would be okay if Daddy thinks so and maybe we’ll be a happy family here too and you know I joined this contest in school and I-.”

“Whoa, slow down, kiddo.” Bumi let out his booming laughter. “I didn’t quite catch it – what’s the name of your new friend?” He was heartened that Ikki seemed to have adjusted better now.

“Jinora!” His seven-year-old niece practically chirped the name. “She’s actually here!” Ikki turned to someone from beyond the view of the webcam. “Jin, it’s my Uncle Bumi – I want you to meet him!”

“Um, it’s fine, Ikki.” A calm voice of an older child can be heard. “I can wait here.”

“Nooonseeense.” Bumi could see Ikki pull something, rather someone to the camera. “Uncle Bumi, this is my friend Jinora. Jinora, my Uncle Bumi.” She said by way of introducing them.

Jinora gives a small wave and a soft hello.

Bumi gives them a short bow. “Nice to meet you, Jinora. It’s great to meet the friend of my favorite niece (Ikki please don’t tell Korra).”

Ikki gives a delighted clap and proceeds into another lengthy tale on what she and Jinora were working on that day at home.

Bumi smiles back at them, observing the children’s banter as they demonstrate the monologue that Ikki was preparing for. It was amusing.

Heh, they could be cousins.

He recalled when he was young, he, his siblings and even the sisters-who-must-not-be-named would stay over in one house after school to work on school projects. It had been one of the highlights of his childhood. He was glad that his niece would be somewhat experience it; he had been worried a few years back when Tenzin and Pema (primarily Pema) were very protective of their kids. It was to the point that they were both homeschooled and basically kept out of the public eye and the public itself.

It can’t be good for socialization. But what can he say? He didn’t have kids so he probably wouldn’t know what he was talking about, right?

He’s just fun ole Uncle Bumi.

Nonetheless, as he turned his attention back to the two girls, Bumi promised himself that he will always be there for his brother’s kids. It’s the least he could do as their godfather.

---

Mako, Republic City High

“I worry about Mom.” Mako picked at his dumplings during lunch time, a stark contrast to his brother who was eating a lot (“Coach said I needed to bulk up!”).

“Why? Has my dad been overworking her?” Asami slipped beside him at their usual lunch table. She brought out her packed lunch of pasta and a bottle of coconut water. “Just let me know and I can try to look into it.” She was, after all, interning at Future Industries in her spare time.

“Now that’s just powerplay.” The exchange student from Ba Sing Se High chortled, taking a sip of his sparkling water. “And that’s a no-no and Auntie will definitely get mad if she hears about that.”

“You would know about powerplay,” Bolin swallowed a mouthful of chicken, pointing his fork at the other boy. “Wasn’t that why you got the last slot in the elective you wanted to take this year?”

“Who? Me?” The other boy dramatically placed a hand on his chest, eyes widening. “You think, I Wu would stoop so low as to manipulate the results of the audition for the voice elective? Don’t you think I have enough talent to get into that class?”

Bolin just snorted into his food and Asami choked on her drink. Wu cracked a smile at their reactions.

“Again, Wu – don’t let Mom hear you call her Auntie.” Mako reiterated for the nth time in their friendship. “She hates it.”

“That’s why I do it.” Wu winked at them.

“Wait, Mako, what were you saying about Mom?” Bolin managed to ask in between bites of food. “Is something wrong? I mean, she’s a little bit run-down but she said it’s just because of the time of the year.” The last quarter of the year, after all, is usually the busiest.

“No, it’s just – well,” Mako sought words to explain it. “I’ll be leaving for college, you’ll be away for training, and okay, Jinora would be there but she’s in middle school now…” He trailed off. With Jinora’s aptitude and interests, Mako would not be surprised if she took on a lot of electives and extra-curricular activities. “Mom works too hard, you know?” He ended lamely.

“She has always looked out for us, but yeah,” A shadow passed over his brother’s face. “Ever since Pa passed away a few years back, she poured much of her energy to ensuring our welfare. She’s barely spent time for herself.”

Mako met Bolin’s now worried eyes.

The brothers knew that their mom had sacrificed a lot for them and Jinora.

When they first met Lin and one-year-old Jinora, she had already been under a lot of duress – taking care of a baby, leaving behind Jinora’s deadbeat dad, settling down in a new neighborhood and restarting a career. It had been two years later when she married their father San, who had been a sergeant at the city’s police station at the time.

And, Mako thought wearily, history has not been kind to Lin Beifong at all. While they did have four years (four wonderful years that Mako will treasure for the rest of his life), their fairytale-like family life came to an abrupt end.

San was involved in an armed bank robbery four years later and had not survived the gunshot wounds – leaving Lin behind with two boys at the brink of puberty and a young daughter.

Bolin and Jinora had been very confused at the time. Mako, already fifteen, had been expecting that he and Bolin would be forced into the system or sent off to their relatives in Ba Sing Se. He felt that Lin would not be in any way obligated to take him and his brother in; they were not blood relatives anyway. They were just stepchildren.

To his stunned astonishment, Lin did neither. He recalled crying in Lin’s arms that night after his father’s funeral.

She had asked him, with a confused expression, why he was packing. Lin wept alongside him as she explained that Mako and Bolin are her sons and there was no way that she was sending them away.

Since then, Mako made sure to look after his mom the way she looked after them. The brothers’ protectiveness was soon well-known in their neighborhood.

Probably also why no one had expressed any type of interest towards Lin even years after…

Mako reflected that it might have been a good move on their part but now it might have been a little bit selfish.

He and Bolin would now need to rethink their strategy…

After all, their mom Lin deserves all the happiness in the world.

---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School – Parking Lot

“Are you sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to have a sleepover?” Tenzin looked over at his daughter, a teasing grin out of place on his face.

“Of course not, Daddy.” Ikki replied indignantly, kicking pebbles as they waited at the parking lot.

“Why can’t you do the project at our house?” He was actually leaning towards allowing Ikki on her first ever sleepover/overnight but he wanted to hear from his daughter.

“We’ll need a big big printer, Daddy.” Ikki raised her arms to show him just how big. “We’ll need to print out my project and Jinora’s mommy has a big printer and lamin-lami-lamintor (“Laminating machine, dear?” Tenzin clarified.) because she frilancets (“Freelances?”).”

“Mmhhmm.” Tenzin looked across the school building, shifting Ikki’s overnight bag on his shoulder.

Ikki timidly approached him the other night, asking if she could spend Friday night and Saturday at her friend Jinora’s house. They had an output required of them of the big sister-little sister program. Tenzin was actually unclear as to what is the specific output that the girls had decided on but it did require a large-scale printer and a laminating machine.

Jinora attempted to explain to him what they were going to do during the last week that they were in his house but he felt out of his depth so he had nodded and let them work on what they needed to.

The father had met Jinora several times already in the past months so he knew the child was in earnest that their intent for the overnight activity would be mainly to finish a project. He also realized (well, Bumi made him realize) that Ikki was old enough for a sleepover (and Pema’s overprotectiveness would be to the detriment of their kids’ development). Additionally, he thought grimly, it would also keep Meelo from wreaking havoc on the work area of the girls.

Nonetheless, he took up Jinora’s mom’s offer to meet up for snacks before she takes the kids home. This would give him a chance to meet the mom, discuss some ground rules and as well thank the mom privately for letting Jinora help Ikki come out of her shell during her first months in Republic City Primary. Jinora did say that her pa and mom used to do the same before she spends the night over at her other friends – the parents meet up, share a small meal, get to know each other. Tenzin thought this was a good parenting tactic; it would definitely assuage his fears as well.

But now, said mom was late.

Jinora had hurried to them, dragging with her a large cartolina and illustration board. She explained that her mom’s work meeting overran and if it would be okay if she rode with them? Her mom will be meeting them at the local diner instead, so they don’t get caught up in traffic.

Tenzin could feel his impatience growing.

So far, this woman was not making a good impression on him.

How on earth she produced a lovely daughter like Jinora was beyond him.

---

Lin, Narook’s

Damn Sato, Lin ground her teeth as she finally parked her car into the last parking space in front of Narook’s. Of all the days for a meeting to go over time, it has to be today when she had explicitly asked to leave early to fetch her daughter.

Jinora had provided her enough context to know that making a good impression with Ikki’s dad was important to her daughter.

Lin heard that the dad was some big shot divorced corporate guy, who, she thought, was a bit paranoid about his kids’ safety.

Lin acted as an arts club moderator so she was regularly present at the Republic City High, which gave her chances to meet Ikki whenever she drops by the primary school to fetch Jinora.

The girl was a sweet child – energetic and delightful once she felt comfortable enough with you. It had come to her attention, in the short conversations with the kid, that she was not allowed to go out and play with other kids in their old neighborhood so she was very much excited to have a new friend outside of her class and her family.

When Jinora mentioned their culminating project and their dilemma on the timeline and materials, Lin suggested that they take the project home to work on.

The crestfallen expression of Ikki as she stated that her dad would not allow her pushed Lin to share that she’s willing to talk to the dad to help convince him to give his permission.

The infectious smile that burst on Ikki’s face was enough to convince Lin that she made the right decision.

Now, however, as she entered the diner, spotting her daughter at the corner booth, she froze and started to doubt all her life decisions that led to this moment.

Wondering and questioning the universe what had she done in her past life for her to deserve this.

Across Jinora, beside the talkative Ikki, sat Tenzin – her former boyfriend and Jinora’s father.

---

Note: Soooo hmmmmmm. What do you think?

#linzin #linzin fanfic #legend of korra #lin beifong #tenzin #jinora #ikki #mako #toccatina's fanfics #toccatina wip

51 notes · View notes

bethpeaches123 · 3 years

Note

Everlark #46

Okay, this took much longer than I’d hoped, but that’s because every time I thought I was finished, something new popped into my head and I had to include it, so it’s also much longer than I’d anticipated. But, here it is, @mandelion82! I hope you enjoy! I’m thinking of continuing it too, so stay tuned! Also going to post it on AO3. :)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everlark 46: nanny/single parent au

The Nanny/Babysitter/Minder

When Katniss Everdeen placed an ad looking for a nanny to care for her five-year-old daughter Cassie, the gorgeous blond, blue-eyed specimen of a man standing on her front porch was not exactly what she had in mind.

“Can I…help you? Sir?” she asked, trying to wipe the puzzled expression off her face when she opened the door.

He smiled, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his dark wash jeans, looking slightly puzzled himself. “I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark? I emailed you about the nanny position for your daughter? We agreed I’d come over to meet her at one o’clock today?” he replied. His eyes flickered to the side at the sound of a car horn behind him on the busy street, then flicked back to Katniss while he waited for her response.

Flustered that Peeta was apparently a man’s name and not an old woman’s like she’d assumed, (Why had she assumed that? What could have it been short for? Petunia? Come on, Katniss) she hesitated and then said, “oh, yes, of course. Um, please, come in,” stepping aside to let the subtly muscular man walk past her and into the hallway.

Hesitating again, she decided to throw caution to the wind and continue with the appointment with this man, Peeta. She hadn’t received any other responses to the ad she’d placed two weeks prior, and she was getting desperate. Her surgery schedule had changed at the hospital, thanks to crotchety Chief Abernathy who didn’t care about her childcare woes, and she needed to find someone to pick Cassie up from school until her current shift rotation changed again in a few months’ time. If it changed. Knowing Abernathy, he’d keep her on this schedule indefinitely.

“Cassie? Can you come out please sweetheart, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she called down the hall.

She motioned for Peeta to proceed into the living room as a tiny pixie of a girl came bounding down the hall and into the room, her dark brown hair in two messy braids down her back. “Mama, I was playing,” she whined, but stopped and stared, wide-eyed at the blond man standing in front of her. “Who are you?” she asked, curiously.

“Cassie honey, I told you we’d be meeting your new nann-err…your….baby-um…your…minder…today. Remember?” hastily fumbling over what to call Peeta. “This is Mr. Mel-um, Peeta.”

“Hi Mr. Peeta,” Cassie whispered, peering up at him shyly as her little mouth curling into a smile.

Peeta knelt down in front of Cassie and held out his hand. “Hello Miss Cassie, it’s very nice to meet you. You can call me just Peeta, though, if you’d like,” he replied, gently smiling at the girl. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, I hope.”

“Cassie, why don’t you tell Peeta about school? Cassie just started grade one. Peeta, can I get you something to drink?” asked Katniss, starting towards the kitchen. She needed to put some distance between herself and this gorgeous man. Needed to catch her breath and steady herself – it had been a while since she’d been around anyone who made her feel so flustered. She was usually so calm and cool-headed; she needed to be, being an orthopedic surgeon and all. When Peeta didn’t reply right away, she turned to face him and found him staring straight at her.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, his eyes warm as he looked at her for a beat longer than normal, before turning his focus back to her mini-me sitting before him on the floor. She could feel the heat from his brief gaze go straight to her core. She shivered and spun on her heel, swiftly walking to the kitchen. What was that? As she poured herself a glass of water, she gave herself a mental shake before gulping it down and returning to the living room to sit and observe.

As Katniss watched the two interact on the floor, her initial hesitations began to melt away. Peeta was patient, attentive and gentle with her sweet girl, listening to her talk about her dolls, how much she wanted a cat (Katniss refused - she and felines did not get along) and how nice her kindergarten teacher Mr. Cinna was. Peeta asked her questions about her favourite colour (purple, but also green, like Mama) what she wanted to be when she grew up (a veterinarian) and her favourite flavour ice cream (Rocky Road).

After 45 minutes had passed and the two seemed thick as thieves, Katniss’s worries were gone. Her desperation to find someone to look after Cassie while she was at work had melted away as she watched Cassie, normally a shy, reserved little girl, open up and giggle at the gentle man who made silly faces and showed her pictures of his cat, Cupcake (she could’ve scolded him for that - she didn’t need Cassie getting any more ideas about wanting a cat.) Occasionally, she’d laugh softly at something one of them would say, and she’d catch Peeta’s eye when he’d glance at her and smile warmly, his dimples dusting his cheeks.

With her ex Gale no longer in the picture, and her mother and sister living two states away, she didn’t have any family support. Peeta seemed to be the answer to her prayers, judging from how quickly he and her daughter got along. Plus…he wasn’t hard on the eyes. Stop lusting after the hired help, Katniss. Get it together.

After some more time had passed, Katniss looked at her watch and said, “Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of Peeta’s time, Cassie, and you have to get ready to head out to your singing lesson too,” said Katniss, standing up and motioning to her daughter to go to her room and get ready. “Why don’t you brush your teeth, use the bathroom and get your sheet music from your bedroom while I talk to Peeta?”

“But I don’t haveta use the bathroom, Mama,” Cassie grumbled. She didn’t make any moves to get up from her spot on the floor next to Peeta, who smartly stayed silent as he watched the mother and daughter talk.

“You will as soon as we get in the car and by then it’ll be too late. Go, please, missy,” replied her mother, sternly.

Peeta stood up from where he’d been sitting crossed legged on the floor with Cassie and dipping into a deep bow, offered her his hand to pull her up. “May I be of service to the young lady and help her up?” His eyes twinkled as she giggled again and placed her little hand in his, letting him easily pull her to her feet. “Will I see you again, Mr. Peeta?” she asked shyly, glancing at her mother before turning back to him.

“I would like that, Miss Cassie. How about I chat with your mama while you get ready? It’s a good idea to listen to her - she knows best,” he replied gently.

Cassie huffed, but turned and bounded out of the room, the chorus of “Let It Go” echoing down the hall as she went.

Peeta chuckled and shook his head amusedly, shoving his hands in his front pockets, adopting his stance from earlier. He turned his gaze to Katniss once again, his piercing blue eyes warm and kind. Before she could speak, Peeta beat her to it.

“She seems like a wonderful little girl, Mrs. Everdeen. I’d be happy to look after her for you when needed,” he said. “I can provide a list of references and my child CPR certification if you’d like. I mean, if you’d like me to...if you’d like t-to hire me?” He stuttered, watching her face spread into a wide, amused smile.

“It’s Dr. Everdeen, actually. Ms. Dr. Everdeen, really. I’m not married. Ever. Haven’t ever been married. I mean, not that that matters, I’m jus-I mean Cassie’s father and I weren’t married, we were just together, but he’s not around anymore, he-” what was wrong with her? She was a top-notch surgeon; a strong, independent woman, raising a child on her own. Why was she so tongue-tied around this man? She took a deep breath and said, “Katniss is fine. And your references and other files would be great. Could you email them to me please?”

Amused by her stuttered response that mirrored his own, Peeta replied, “Okay. Katniss it is, and yes, I’ll send them over today.” He seemed relieved that she was as nervous as he was.

After they discussed hours and rate of pay, the one questions that had been nagging in the back of her mind finally couldn’t be left unasked. “Why do you want this job?” She blurted.

Mortified, she continued before he could even open his mouth. “Sorry, it’s just...when I placed the ad, I expected to find an old, grandmother-type woman. Not a young, handsome guy. I mean-I just...I haven’t come across a lot of male...nannies,” she trailed off, embarrassed by her word choice. Did I just call him handsome? To his face? Oh god, I wish I could bury MY face in my hands right about now.

Peeta shifted somewhat uncomfortably from one foot to the other before replying. “That’s a fair question, I guess. I work in my family’s bakery in the mornings, but my day is finished by noon. I wanted something to fill the rest of my days and I love kids – I have a niece and nephew who are just the greatest, I love spending time with little people that age, they’re so inquisitive and honest. I’ve actually thought about going back to school to become a teacher – I mean, I haven’t ruled it out yet, I’m only twenty-six, that’s not too old. Plus, I thought about how much of a struggle it must be sometimes to be a single parent and if I have the ability and capacity to help someone out, well, then I want to do that.” He realized he was rambling a bit and flushed with embarrassment. “Is that weird? I just thought I’d combine helping people and kids and...well, here I am. Here we are.”

“Here we are indeed,” mused Katniss, staring at him wonderingly. “That seems like as good a reason as any, I suppose.” She started to turn away but stopped and looked at him once again. “And I do appreciate the help, by the way…can you start Monday?” Her lips curved into a small smile, Peeta beamed back at her, this time his dimples on full display.

“Great! Yes, Monday’s great. Okay. Good. I think this will be...great. I’ve said great a lot. I’ll stop,” said Peeta sheepishly, running his hand through his messy blond curls. His face flushed bright red again, a shade Katniss found endearing.

Before she could respond again, Cassie came bounding down the hallway, her teeth clean and music bag in tow. “I’m ready, Mama! Mr. Peeta, so will I see you again?” She asked hopefully, peering up at her new friend once again.

Peeta glanced at Katniss, who smiled and nodded, before replying to Cassie. “You will! I’ll be there to pick you up from school on Monday. I have a very serious question for you though, Miss Cassie. Are you ready to hear it?” Her brow furrowed as she nodded slowly. “Do you like to have fun?” She little face broke out into a grin as she nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. “Well good,” he continued. “Because we’re going to have lots of it.”

Hearing her child break out into giggles again melted her heart and stirred something inside her. Looking at Peeta, she met his intense gaze with one of her own, grateful for this kind man to care for the more important person in her life.

“Well, it’s time to go, sweetheart. Peeta, thank you so much again. We’ll be chatting before Monday to go over the rest of the particulars,” said Katniss, ushering Cassie out the front door and turning to Peeta once again. As he moved past her to go through the front door, his hand lightly pressed against the small of her back to step around her, and Katniss felt the heat of his touch through her coat. It spread from her back throughout her body, right down to her toes. She froze as he passed through the door and hopped down the steps, turning back to look at her and flashed his dimples once again. Oh my. This is going to be interesting…

“I’ll speak to you very soon, Katniss. Cassie, I’ll see you Monday afternoon!” he called, cheerfully as he waved and headed to his car.

“I like Mr. Peeta, Mama. He’s nice. And he has a cat!! Do you think he can bring Cupcake over to play with me sometime?” Cassie babbled as Katniss strapped her into her seat, her mind replaying the memory of Peeta’s touch on her back over and over. She flushed again, thinking of how close his muscular body had to hers been when he walked by, how his blue eyes sparkled when he stared at her, how his dimples seemed to make an appearance when he beamed at her….how his ass looked when he bent over to help Cassie up...

Oh no. She was in trouble.

A young, hot, (she has to admit he was hot, there was no denying it) kind, patient man was going to be looking after her child and thus very, very involved in her life for the unforeseeable future. This would be interesting indeed…

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#everlark fanfiction #everlark #everlark fanfic #mama!katniss #katniss everdeen #Peeta Mellark #babysitter!peeta #The Hunger Games

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