#maybe I Did go into my old school folder and look at class notes from undergrad!
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Things you can do with a history ba:
Use your research and writing abilities to create a historically accurate fanfic
#maybe I Have been rewatching a 7 hour long docuseries to refresh my memory on this time period#maybe I Do have multiple windows on my computer open so I can get the proper social history as well#maybe I Did go into my old school folder and look at class notes from undergrad!#maybe this fic is already spiraling out of control ! who are you my mom!#anyways…… everyone get hyped for my hbo war Vietnam war anthology series let see if I can publish any of it before 2025#Kelly writes
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Memories in a cup



Pairing: kenan yildiz X fem!reader
Summary: You were childhood friends, but you separated in elementary school, so you end up meeting again in a café.
Warning: Mention of Reader, fluff.
Author's note: He's becoming my new obsession ��
And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!
A light rain was beating down on the windows of the small café in the center of Turin. It was early autumn and the weather had that light, cozy chill that went perfectly with cappuccinos and apple pies.
Kenan pushed open the glass door, causing the bell hanging at the top to jingle. The smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon immediately enveloped him. He had the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up, trying to go unnoticed. But that wasn't why he was there — it was a curious coincidence that had made him return to that place every day that week.
You.
He was behind the counter, wearing a black apron and with slightly messy hair, as it always was after the morning shift. He served each customer with a smile and a calm manner, as if the world outside was lighter than it really was. But what caught Kenan's attention the most was the fact that you had no idea who he was.
Even after he started a conversation, made jokes, told you his name. Nothing. You just thought he was that friendly customer who always orders the same latte and lemon cake.
What you didn't know was that Kenan Yıldız remembered you from the first moment he saw you at that counter.
You studied together for two years in elementary school, before he moved away to focus on soccer. He always remembered the girl who drew in notebooks, who laughed out loud in math class, and who shared her snack with him the day he forgot his.
But time passed. He grew up, changed, and now you didn't even blink twice when you heard his name.
Until that day.
“Here you go, Kenan,��� you smiled, handing him his usual coffee. “I already memorized your order. Do you want your usual tomorrow too?”
He chuckled softly. “Maybe. But first... can I show you something?”
You raised an eyebrow, curious. Kenan pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched for a specific folder. When he turned the screen to you, there was an old photo, yellowed with time. A school class, with blue uniforms and awkward smiles. He was there, with shorter hair and a boyish face. And so were you.
“That… is me?” His eyes widened. “Oh my God… that’s from school! Wait. Wait. You’re… Kenan?”
He nodded, chuckling, his eyes shining.
“The same one who fell down the stairs running away from his English teacher?” you covered your mouth in surprise.
“Do you remember that?” he laughed out loud, relieved.
“Of course! I thought you looked familiar, but I never imagined… gosh, you look different.”
“And you’re just like that,” he joked. “Only now you serve the best coffee in Turin.”
You gave his arm a light push, laughing along. After a few minutes of conversation, between laughter and sips of coffee, Kenan tilted his head slightly, curious.
“Can I ask you something?” he said, with that light but attentive look.
“Sure,” you replied, still smiling. Cleaning the table next to his.
“Why did you leave Germany? I mean… you disappeared after high school. I haven’t heard from you since then.”
His smile faltered for a second, not from sadness, but from those memories that we keep in a forgotten drawer.
“My mom got a job offer here, and we decided to start over. I didn’t want to at first, but…” you shrugged. “I ended up falling in love with Italy. The food, the people… the slower pace of things. And the coffee, of course. Always the coffee.”
Kenan smiled, as if he understood perfectly.
“Well, lucky me then.”
“Lucky you why?”
“Because if you hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have met my school friend who now makes the best lemon cake in town.”
You laughed, shaking your head. There was something different about that exchange—as if this reunion had actually happened for a reason.
Two days later, on a break from the café, you decided to walk aimlessly and ended up in a park near the Juventus training center. The sun was shining softly through the leaves, and there was a pleasant breeze. You were sitting on a bench, with headphones on and a book on your lap, when you heard a familiar voice:
“So this is where you hide out on your days off?”
He looked up and there was Kenan, with a bottle of water in his hand and his hair still a little wet from training.
“And you? Following me now?” you replied with a teasing smile.
“Maybe,” he shrugged, sitting down next to her without asking permission. “Or maybe this is fate again.”
“Do you believe in these things?” he asked, looking at him sideways.
“I’ve believed it since the day I accidentally walked into that café.”
And on that park bench, amidst the falling leaves and quiet conversations, it felt like school time had been given a second chance. This time, with more coffee, more smiles... and maybe something more.
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#kenan yildiz x reader#kenan yildiz x you#kenan yildiz x y/n#kenan yildiz imagines#kenan yildiz x fem!reader#kenan yildiz#kenan yıldız#universefcb#kenan yildiz fanfic#football x y/n#football x oc#football x reader#football imagine#football
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The Diary of Tom Riddle- Diary! Tom Riddle x Reader - P6



pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader
warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed, bleeding from the nose.
summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3- -Part 4- -Part 5- -Part 7-
=
Harry peeled open the pages of the diary, it was half blank-with loads of notes in the first half-all retaining to the classes that Hogwarts offered. “Defense against the dark arts, Charms, Transfiguration,” Harry muttered under his breath as he flipped through the sections of notes.
It was like looking through Hermione's notes folder-everything sectioned off and dated.
“it’s just a diary being used as a notebook Harry, it’s clearly nothing special,” Ron said as they walked to the hospital wing to see Hermione, who was still recovering from the Polyjuice cat incident.
Harry only hummed in response, for some reason he felt the diary was far more than it seemed-even though all that was written in it was notes and silly doodles. He liked the one of the greasy Snape- even the Slytherin girl this book belonged to didn’t like Snape.
“You should give it back to her Harry, it might not have her name clearly its hers, has her name on the front page and everything.” Hermione said quietly as they visited her in the hospital wing, Hermione tapping the first page that had the Slytherin girls name in ink-right below T.M.Riddle's name that was also written in ink.
“Yeah, but the back says it belongs to Tom Riddle, which Ron says has a trophy about some-great thing he did for the school 50 years ago,” Harry said, Hermione snatching the book from him-grabbing her wand from her bag.
“Then maybe he wrote something down in here about the last time the chamber was opened-“ Hermione said and Harry quickly caught up with what she’d realized, eagerly leaning over her shoulder to watch her tap her wand on the diary thrice. “Aparecium!”
When nothing happened, Hermione huffed, grabbing a red eraser from her bag. “It’s a revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley,” Hermione said when Harry gave her a quizzical look. She rubbed the eraser hard on one of the blank pages, but nothing happened, and Hermione huffed.
“I’m telling you, there’s nothing to find in there,” Ron said, crossing his arms. “Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn’t be bothered to keep it, and that Slytherin girl got it 2nd hand.”
-
Harry couldn’t explain why he hadn’t given the diary/notebook back to the Slytherin girl, even after she’d left the hospital wing, he’d overheard Madam Pomfrey tell her to take it easy as the stress from NEWTS and the chamber had made her body go into overdrive.
Harry thought how the girl looked when he’d found her in the bathroom was far worse than stress-she almost looked like she was dying.
He shook the thought out of his head, remembering the haunting look in the girl’s eyes when she’d looked at him, he looked back down at the diary in his hands, letting the blank pages flutter in his hand.
Earlier-Lockhart had hired all those ‘cupid’ dwarves and one had cornered him, singing a crude poem to him from Ginny Weasley, in the process, his book bag had ripped, and ink had gotten everywhere-including the diary.
And yet, the diary had no trace of ink on it, unlike the rest of his books, instead the only thing that remained was the notes. Harry frowned in thought-opening the diary to a blank page and dipping his quill, letting a blot of ink drop onto the page.
After a moment-it sunk into page-leaving not a trace of ink.
And then-before his very eyes-new words began to appear.
‘(y/n)?’
Harry’s eyes went wide, and he nearly jumped out of his chair to go show Ron and Hermione, but instead dipped his quill again.
“I’m sorry no, my names Harry Potter.”
There was a moment before the response but eventually the neat scrawl of the diary appeared.
‘Hello Harry potter. My name is Tom Riddle, how did you come upon my diary?’
Those words began to fade just as Harry had re-dipped his quill and hurriedly wrote back.
“The girl who had it had a seizure or something, she dropped it and I picked it up,”
His words faded and very quickly Tom wrote back to him-almost hurried.
‘(y/n). is she okay?’
“She is, she just got out of the hospital wing, madam Pomfrey said it was from stress.”
‘Very good. Why are you keeping my diary, Harry Potter?’
“I was wondering if you knew anything about the chamber of secrets?”
-
(y/n) practically tore her room apart, looking for Tom’s diary. “well-when did you last have it?” her roommate/friend asked, watching from her bed concerned as (y/n) flipped over her mattress.
“I don’t know! Uhgh-the bathroom, I think? I got all dizzy n shit and the last thing I remember before passing out as throwing my bag to the floor.” (y/n) huffed, tapping her finger in frustration on her bedpost.
“Maybe it’s still in the bathroom then? It could’ve been washed into one of the stalls with all that flooding from moaning myrtle?” her roommate suggested and (y/n) had to concede she might be right.
God Tom was going to be so pissed at her for letting him stew in toilet water for so many days, she’d have to get him more good ink or something to make up for it.
However, the diary wasn’t there.
“Myrtle?” (y/n) asked gently, looking up at the floating ghost girl, who stared at her. “Did my books happen to be picked up when I fell in here last week?”
Myrtle tilted her head in thought and nodded. “Oh yes, Harry Potter picked up that little black book,” Myrtle said faintly, before going back to moaning and groaning about death. (y/n) thanked her and left the bathroom, looking to find potter to see if he’d kept her/Tom’s diary by accident.
She found him and his friends walking through the courtyard, talking about…the chamber of secrets? “Hagrid opened the chamber of secrets 50 years ago,” Harry said quietly to Ron and Hermione.
“Riddle-” That got (y/n)’s attention, had Harry really kept the diary and written in it? Thank god all of hers and Tom’s conversations didn’t stay in the diary, only keeping the notes he rewrote for her. “-might have the wrong person,” said Hermione. “Maybe is some other monster that was attacking people…”
“How many monsters d’you think this place can hold?” Ron asked rhetorically, (y/n) following close behind, hoping to get the diary back from Potter, she felt weird without it, like something was missing.
Merlin maybe she was getting way too attached to Tom.
“We always knew Hagrid had been expelled,” said Harry miserably, “and the attacks must’ve stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn’t have got his award.”
What sort’ve hero stories was the nerd telling the 12-year-olds???
She decided to interrupt their little chat about Tom, the chamber, and Hagrid-wanting the diary back.
“Hello,” she said softly, waving to the three, looking down at them as they froze and turned to face her, though relaxed when they saw it was only her-the girl who had the diary before Harry. “Sorry to interrupt you, but it was brought to my attention that you might still have my notebook? It’s a black leather-bound book with the name Tom Riddle on the back? It has all my notes for the upcoming exams on it and I need it before they start.”
Harry nodded jankily, but didn’t reach into his bag for it. “Uh-yeah, uh, did you know it could write back?” (y/n) tilted her head but nodded.
“Uh, yeah, it’s a personality enchantment, very rare advanced magic.” (y/n) said casually, just wanting the diary back and not to converse with the three for much longer.
“Did he tell you anything about the chamber of secrets?” Harry asked, remembering Riddle's concern for (y/n) and near demands, to be returned to her.
(y/n) shook her head, having never asked. “No, never asked, but he is tutoring me for defense against the dark arts, since Lockhart is… Lockhart.” (y/n) said with a scrunch of her nose and Hermione looked to have half a mind to scold her while the boys just smiled, glad to finally have met a girl who thought Lockhart was just as stupid as they thought he was.
(y/n) just huffed, crossing her arms. “Could I have the diary back? I really do need those notes,” (y/n) asked again and Harry nodded, telling her he was keeping it up in his dorm room and he’d pass it back to her later. She narrowed her eyes a bit, feeling an odd flare of frustration and possessiveness at him for keeping the diary for even longer but pushed it down.
“Thanks,” She said, giving the three a short wave-turning on her heel and heading for her next class.
-
Hours later, almost dinner, she finally got the diary back, Harry handing it back to her-quite reluctantly might she add-but (y/n) didn’t care, clutching the diary close to her side as she thanked Harry and turned to go back to her dorm, moving the diary from her side to her chest.
It felt like a hug as she held it.
She sighed in relief as she stepped into her dorm, pressing her back against the door to close it, letting her head drop to her chest slightly, clutching the diary to her chest.
She really didn’t know why she was attached to the diary/Tom so much, when she didn’t have it/him on hand, it felt…odd, like something important was missing.
(y/n) hopped onto her bed and flipped open the diary, glad to see all the notes Tom had rewritten for her still there. She grabbed her quill and opened her ink well, dipping the tip before pressing it to the page.
“sorry for dropping you in the bathroom :s”
‘(y/n)?’
“yeah, I had some sort of seizure from the stress of the whole, chamber and exams, situation. Got really dizzy and my nose started to bleed really bad, passed out in the second-floor girls' bathroom.”
‘Merlin. Are you okay?’
“I am now, some rest did good for me, Madam Pomfrey told me to keep taking it easy though”
‘I see. No late night chatting with me anymore then.’
(y/n) gasped a bit and sat up, frowning.
“not fair! I like talking to you!”
‘I like talking to you too, but staying up till, merlin knows how late, talking to me isn’t helping your health. So, no more of that until you’re feeling better.’
“fine.”
‘(y/n).’
“I know! Thank you for looking out for me, means a lot. :3”
‘What in Merlin’s beard does :3 mean?’
“it’s a cute smiley face~! :3”
‘Stop it it’s, what’s the word you used? Cringe?’
“hey!”
-
Things finally felt normal again, (y/n) was finally getting some good rest as the months moved from February to May, her DADA tutoring sessions with Tom went pretty well, though once in a while he’d ask if she’d like to have a more-in depth lesson but she always declined, still a little weirded out by the way he could do the whole ‘pull someone into his subspace’ thing.
Plus, last time she’d gotten a nosebleed from the magic strain of it, she didn’t want to have another one.
Since her little-trip-to the hospital wing, the attacks had stopped and everyone else was finally relaxing, the tension finally easing up as the threat of ‘the heir of Slytherin and its monster’ seemed to have its fill and leave.
(y/n) currently was having some trouble with her potions work, her brow furrowed as she looked over her assigned work again and again, but it was just all blurring together in a mesh of nothing. She sighed, dropping her quill and rubbing her face. She needed a break.
She looked down at the diary, seeing she’d gotten a big ink blot on it from dropping her quill, sighing and moving the quill off of it and into the ink well. The ink sunk into the page and Tom’s writing appeared.
‘What was that for?’
“dropped the quill on the page, sorry.”
‘Tired?’
“very, i wanna go take a nap but the quidditch game is today and my friend is no doubt going to drag me off to that and its within the hour, hardly have time to even get up to my room and put my stuff away.”
‘I see.’
‘I could help?’
“how?”
‘If you would allow me, time doesn’t really pass within the diary, you could take a short nap if you wish? I just wouldn’t be able to talk to you for a few days, as I know the last time I pulled you in, it caused immense strain on your magic, and I’d rather avoid that.’
(y/n) hesitated, her quill hovering over the page as Tom’s words faded away.
“you promise it wont hurt me this time?”
‘I promise. Do I have your permission?’
(y/n) looked around the library, glancing at her watch, and then put her quill to the page again.
“you have my permission.”
In the same way as it did the first time, the gutter of the book became a blinding light that seemed to pull her into the diary-and the hands that caught her were even gentler than the first time.
She looked up, seeing the sepia-toned face of Tom Riddle, smirking down at her as he held her steady. She cleared her throat, gently pushing herself up to stand and he chuckled, reaching out his hand to hers. “C’mon, I know a good spot for a nap,” Tom said, and she took his hand, letting him lead her down the diaries Hogwarts halls.
He led her to the Slytherin common room, and she laid down on the big couch that was even comfier than the one in the actual common room, her eyes fluttering closed as a blanket was laid atop her, a cold hand brushing the hair from her face.
-
When she awoke, she was back in the library, sleeping over her books and the diary. She jolted up, checking her watch-only 15 minutes had passed, and yet it felt like she got several hours of sleep. She picked up her quill, writing a quick thank you to Tom before she packed everything up and rushed to her dorm room to change for the quidditch match.
As she went to leave the common room to go to the quidditch match-everyone suddenly crowded in, all looking worried. “What happened?” (y/n) asked her friend who quickly took her by the hand to sit down by the fireplace.
“There was another attack,” her friend whispered and (y/n)’s heart stuttered in her chest, her eyes widening.
“What? Where?” (y/n) gasped, her mouth gaped open.
“The library,”
(y/n)’s heart dropped to her stomach, her hand covering her mouth. She’d just been in the library! Had the attack happened while she was there? Or after she left?? But she was just there!?
“I was just there,” she whispered and (y/n)’s friend frowned, a horrified look growing on her face.
“Oh my god-did you see the petrified students?” (y/n) shook her friend in response, clutching at her stomach as the feeling of missed danger passed over her.
“No, I didn’t, i-I fell asleep while studying,” (y/n) said, which wasn’t a total lie, her face growing paler as she realized how close to danger she’d been, what if the monster had attacked her? How close had the monster been? Had it attacked while she’d been with Tom? Or right after she left?
Snape, the head of Slytherin house, walked through the portrait doorway, holding a scroll in his hands. “Attention, all of you.” Snape said, sounding drearier and more serious than normal. That was freaky, since Snape never panicked about anything. “Due to the recent events, these new rules will be effective immediately. All students will return to their house common rooms by six o’clock every evening. No student is to leave the common rooms after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities.”
Many of the students groaned at the very restricting rules. “But no Slytherins have been attacked!” Draco Malfoy complained, and Snape silenced him with a glare.
“We will not be taking those risks, Mr. Malfoy. Any breaking of these rules and you will find yourself back in London before you can even whine.” Snape drawled, pinning the scroll to the common room info board. “And I should tell you, unless the perpetrator behind these attacks is caught, it is likely the school will close.”
With a flare of his robes, Snape dramatically left the Slytherin common room, locking it behind him. Everyone looked at each other, wary that one of them might be the heir of Slytherin-the reason behind the attacks. It was a running joke that Harry Potter was the heir, due to his parseltongue ability, but that’s all it was-a joke.
(y/n), however, was mentally panicking, remembering that odd dream from months ago, remembering herself speaking parseltongue. But she’d also overheard Potter and his friends talking about how Tom told them that Hagrid was the one accused of opening the chamber last time.
And she couldn’t ask Tom to confirm that right now, as he was going to take a rest due to him using his limited magic to keep her from straining her own magic while he kept her in his subspace. She sighed heavily, rubbing her face.
The attack, the double attack, had happened while she’d been in the library, the library was where the attack had happened-and most likely while she’d been asleep.
What if…what if she was the culprit? What if she, unknowingly, was the heir of Slytherin somehow and had been doing things while unconscious?
Merlin that was a terrifying what-if.
She was muggle-born, that was true, but muggleborns had to have some sort of magical lineage in their blood, what if…what if the witch/wizard in her bloodline had been a descendant of Salazar?
Fuck she hoped not.
God, she wished she could talk to Tom right now, he always knew what to say to calm her down when she was spiraling.
Hours later, it was announced Dumbledore had been suspended by the school board and Hagrid had been arrested and sent to Azkaban.
Fuck.
-end of part 6-
man im on a rolllll taglist!
@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon
@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott
@kayytt-2 @chimchoom @joyfulnightmare-hq
@theicypiscean
#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle#tom riddle imagine#harry potter fanfiction#Diary Tom Riddle#chamber of secrets
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Something is Up- Law x F!Reader
Hello fantastic people! I finally got hit with which prompt I could use for my Spy Event with Law. It's been awhile since I wrote his character, but the complexity of it as well as his knack for planning lends itself to this one. I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to check out the event list for any request you want to send my way.
✒️ A Not-So Secret Identity- Law x F!Reader
cw: sfw, fluff, witty/silly reader, author knows nothing about medical school
There was just something that was...off about him. You had a gut feeling about the situation, but you weren't sure if you were just sleep-deprived or actually right.
You stared at the stacks of papers you had just finished grading for your professor, and you nibbled on your pen as you held the last one. This particular student was just...different.
It was difficult to grasp the range and terminology of human anatomy and biology, but there was just an odd way about how this guy--Law--got things wrong on his tests and mistakes in his papers.
You had watched him in class. He looked to be around your age and didn't stand out too much. He didn't answer questions often--not trying to show off or brag about near-perfect scores like his classmates did. He sat near the back off towards the side. He took notes during the professor's lecture, but even the way he moved and followed along felt so calculated.
You had spoken with him a few times--gave him props for citing a recent medical journal with untraditional authors of women and military doctors. He only nodded and mumbled in response, but it had you thinking. You didn't know how he accessed that journal since it wasn't part of the school's main databases. You shrugged it off.
But then you realized that there were some inconsistencies with the information he seemed to retain and what he definitely knew. There was just a confident, knowing presence about him that you made you curious.
You marked up the paper in your hand, and just for funsies found a folder with old papers from earlier in the semester. You found Law's and skimmed over the marking notes which confirmed your suspicions. In the more recent paper, there were some errors and misuse of terminology relating to muscle fatigue and lactic acid. However, in the paper before, Law went into great detail about lactic acid accumulation and how it relates to muscle usage. It just wasn't something that the man would get mixed up or forget about weeks later. Of course, your professor had fifty other things to worry about and only wanted you to put in grades, but it got you thinking.
~~~
Law wasn't sure whether or not he was thankful to be seeing the traditional process of becoming a doctor (compared to his fast-track government training) or if he wanted to shoot himself. This wasn't the worse undercover job he could have, but at the same time, maybe it was just a bit too fitting to have him there.
Progress was being made though. There was plenty of evidence of money laundering as well as some hidden human research being facilitated by the university on public volunteers. Most of this was being handled by only a couple of staff members and a too-wealthy alum as the head. However, Law needed to see if there were any other cracks he could find on the campus. So he thought it was great when his TA reached out to go over some study material. He could finally confirm whether or not that anatomy professor was in on this.
Law thought he was so lucky.
Law is never so lucky.
He gawk at your smiling face and bubbling vibes as you beamed while taking a sip of your coffee. "What did you say?"
You giggled as if he asked the silliest question ever. "I want to help you with your investigation." you replied.
Law blinked dumbly. Yes he did hear that correctly, but there was no reason to panic yet. He had a cover to keep. He tilted his head and tapped his notebook--trying to seem nervous yet confused. "I- I don't know what you're even talking about... So um-,"
"Your actual name is Trafalgar Water D. Law; you came to this country when you were a child. There's some murky details about where you're from, but you were in a private, recluse school--which I'm assuming is some crazy classified government thing. Your specialty is in cardiology and have been a part of some public-funded studies." you seemingly announce your findings with a proud air.
We need to hire her. Law didn't know what to say. He hadn't planned a protocol for if his cover was blown because there was no reason it would--he thought. He blended in well-enough, and most research doctors weren't making public appearances. He avoided a lot of attention despite his findings because of his work affiliation. It was easier for people to assume he was some rich brat.
More silence. "Should I keep going? Your residential address is 54-,"
"Okay, okay, enough." Law let out a sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't want to push with how much you knew, but there wasn't a sure way to quiet you yet. He had to see if you were a threat. "First of all, what made you even think to question me?"
You shrugged as you finished off your drink. "The differences in your papers just didn't make sense. At first, I thought you paid someone off to write it for you, but I never see you hanging out with anyone. Then when I looked up some of the contributors from your resources, I came across a peer review you did with that same doctor. I must say I do enjoy your work." You laughed awkwardly.
Law wasn't sure what to say. You were smart; that's for sure. But you were just too giddy about your findings for it to seem like you were...bad. He would run a background check just to be sure later, but he had to handle this first. "I- okay thank you. But listen, this isn't something you can just tagalong in. There's a lot at stake."
"Awww, but Law," you whined and pouted.
"I commend you really, but a lengthy Google search isn't enough to-,"
"The school's medical supplier is on it too. They sometimes bring in real pills instead of the practice sugar ones which spread to others." you added on.
Okay, I did not know that. Law wasn't totally convinced. "And why do you know that? Why would I even trust you?" he argued.
"I was cleaning up a practice lab and saw a bottle. I didn't think anything of it until I googled the name and nothing came up--not even a trial. I didn't think about it too much but now..." there was a lot of hope in your eyes. "So can I help?"
Law only looked back at you slightly annoyed and conflicted. "No." then you hit him with the puppy eyes, and Law knew he needed back up on the situation. "Okay, look. Let's get you in and take a couple statements. We're going now."
You shrieked happily. "Ooo, going to HQ? Will I get a visitor's badge? You should totally let me see some of things you're working on. One of the ideas for dissertation is-,"
Law listened to you ramble on as he walked you guys out the building and through the parking lot. He had a solid plan laid out, and somehow, he was now dealing with you in the mix. You were an uncontrollable variable, and he had a feeling that he was going to be dealing with you more than he prepared for.
~~~
The reader kinda reminds me of Luffy lol. It's just fun to be silly. Also, this is a little reference to joke of how women need to be in the FBI because of how much information that can get. The dots were connecting for sure.
Thanks for reading! Feel free to check some other works out or shook me a message.
Bye~
#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece fanfiction#law x reader#trafalgar law#spy au#stewies spy au event#fem reader#writing prompts#partyanimal167
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mfil - 11
-` ♡ ´- m.list | no taglist | next
-` ♡ ´- a/n: sry this is late <33 hope you enjoy!!
*NOT CLICKBAIT!!!* when asmo learns that you, the newest exchange student has a youtube account and following somewhat comparable to his own, he decided right then and there not to like you. however, after an unfortunate (and misleading) exchange goes viral, he has no choice but to fake date you in order to save face. will asmo crush you and put you into place like you deserve? or are those funny feelings in his stomach not hate, like he had thought? like, subscribe, and maybe fall in love (with this smau) to find out!!
“we changed seats?” you murmur as you look up at the board and see a new seating chart posted. all of the tables have been moved from their groups of four to by themselves, separating each desk of two from one another. you see your old seatmate at a table near the back, already chatting with their new table partner and mourn for a moment, remembering how easy it had been to get along with her even though you didn’t really know her.
it only takes a moment for you to find your name, and with a jolt you realize you recognize your seat partner. it’s asmodeus, the avatar of lust you’d met before. hopefully he remembers you!
dropping your bag on the ground by your chair, you sit in your seat. it’s only a few minutes before asmodeus sits down next to you, and you turn to him with a smile. “oh, hey! it looks like we’re seat partners. how cool is that?”
“so cool.” his eye twitches and you hope he’s alright.
“i wonder if this means we’ll be paired up for the project,” you continue. “i mean, why else would she have changed our seats to an arrangement like this?”
“we’ll see,” is all he replies with. maybe he’s had a bad day? whenever you see him in the halls he’s always really chatty. or maybe he’s sad because he was separated from his old table? they always look like they have a lot of fun in class.
the professor begins the class, and as you’d suspected, asmodeus is your new partner for the several-week-long project. you’re excited- your old school never did projects on this level and you hope it’ll be a fun new experience. and the topic seems interesting. each pair has to choose one spell and research it’s history, aspects, basically everything about it, then prepare a ten-minute presentation on all of it to give to the rest of the class.
at least my partner will be good at presenting, you think, remembering how charismatic asmodeus is. you don’t really have problems standing up in front of a crowd, and it’s always better when your group can, as a whole, be confident and together. it always makes your research look more solid and better and keeps the class engaged well. and you know he’s got a good eye for design, as shows by his aesthetic posts, meaning that between the two of you, you should be able to come up with a gorgeous presentation.
the whole class period is spent detailing the project, and your professor leaves you with the instructions of choosing a spell and making a research plan. you tuck the rubric you’d been given into your folder, making a mental note to look at it more closely later. no two groups can have the same one so it’s important the spell’s chosen really quickly.
you still don’t know many spells, at least, definitely not as many as asmodeus, so you figure you’ll kind of let him take the lead on choosing. but when you go to tell him that at the end of class, he’s already out of his seat and out the door. dang, you’ll have to catch him later.
maybe he really had to pee?
leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
#mfil#obey me#obey me game#obey me shall we date#obey me x you#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#obey me smau#obey me smau series#asmodeus obey me#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo#asmo obey me#asmo om#om asmo#asmo x you#asmo x mc#asmo x reader#asmodeus x you#asmodeus x mc#leviswriting#leviswriting-obeyme
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Hey Snitch!! So I'm a new Ignite converted hahah I was reading Scortch and on James notes to Lily ware mentioned some particular "scenes" between the two of them. Did u do it on purpose? Like they are mean to be part of Iginite universe? Do u plane yourself so far ahead? And it made me wonder how do u organize yours wip? Do u have a schedule? Sorry about my English I'm not a native speaker. 😘😘
(don't apologize for your English, ever! First, it's perfect. Second, you know more than one language and that's a SUPERPOWER! You're incredible, darling!)
Hello, and welcome to Ignite! I'm so glad you're here.
So Scorch was a bit of a one-off, and I wrote it for Valentines day (posted on Valentines day) knowing full well that Ignite was nowhere close to valentines day. I'll be honest: I don't even remember without going to check what I put in his note that they'd done. I think one was her birthday? Was the other Christmas?
Potential spoilers below? Proceed if you want...
Here's what I know and maybe you don't: Ignite will be over before we reach any of that. It doesn't span the entire school year. When does it end? Well, that's a bit of a secret. 😘 But, sometime between now and.... well, Christmas. The next chapter, Chapter 18, opens on the morning of October 16, so there's a lot of time between now and Christmas to play with, and lots of good things coming before "the end."
As far as how I have it organized, you should know that I'm a HOT MESS. How about some pictures as demonstration? We haven't done this in a while, why not.
(none of this contains spoilers if you're up to date in Ignite. If you're not, be aware you might have it spoiled.
So this is my folder for Ignite (plus some more old chapters) and it's where all my chaos is.
Things are labeled basically in a way that makes sense to me at the time I created it. Chapter docs are opened as I need them. When I have a scene I want to write and don't know where to put it, it goes in Unassigned writing. The couple of chapters with descriptions were chapters I knew I would write early, and they were originally "Chapter ?? (Secret description)" until I figured out where they would go. The scenes you see are basically snippets I pulled out to share with people. One of those is a future side along one-shot. 🤫 You'll also see I have fire word cheat sheets and the full moon calendars. And yes, I do have class schedules and rosters.
Every fic I write starts with a doc that is something version of "Planning." This one was "Planning - Secret Relationship Jily." This is where I put all my chaos of ideas, and this one in particular is a hot mess. Like....
So you'll see just like... However ideas come up. Sometimes they come out as I imagined them, and sometimes they'd develop differently.
For Ignite, I eventually went and made a calendar through the rest of the fic, which now serves as my outline. It looks like....
So that's been my outline for a while, and I thiiiiink I'll stick pretty close to it for the rest of the fic. The basic plot elements have been set in stone from nearly the beginning, and it's just the filler bits around it that have been flexible. The Climax that is coming was always the climax.
Anyway. Bit of a look inside my chaos child, but hope that answers your question?
Oh, and no update schedule.
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goodmorning chrollo sluts. kiss kiss. kg teacher reader, unbetad like normal
“what are you doing out of bed?” chrollo’s voice is a pout, drawing your attention away from the toaster.
“i have to go to work, lovely,” you say, keeping your voice gentle.
chrollo pads across the kitchen, sweatpants dangerously low, sleepiness clear on his face. “you do look lovely,” he mumbles. “come back to bed.”
“i can’t do that, angel,” you say, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. he takes a deep breath. you pull down peanut butter and honey, waiting for your toast.
“yes you can,” chrollo insists, “you smell so good.”
you can’t help but chuckle and pat chrollo’s forearm. “thank you, you bought the perfume for me.”
chrollo let’s out a hum of contentment. “i make such good choices.” one of his hands travels up your chest, hugging you close. “are you sure you have to work today?”
“it’s a tuesday, angel. i have to work every workday,” you affirm, beginning to make your toast for the day. “do you want to visit me for lunch? i have free lunch and the kids have gym today.”
chrollo raises his eyebrows, resting his chin on your head to watch you assemble your breakfast. “ill pick up sushi,” he promises. “do you want me to drive you in?”
“i appreciate it, but i’ll be alright on my own,” you turn in chrollo’s arms, placing your hand on his cheek. “i think you’re too sleepy to drive, baby. i’ll see you for lunch, okay?”
chrollo nods and leans down to give you a kiss. “okay,” he places a few kisses around your face, to the moles on your cheekbones and your neck, then smoothed out your dress, smiling softly and shaking his head. “darling, if you were my teacher...”
you chuckle fondly at the comment. this wasn’t the first time you’d heard it, and it wouldn’t be the last. “what? you’d help me collect all the blue books?”
nodding, chrollo cups your cheek again and gives you another kiss. “yes ma’am,” he pulls away reluctantly, and follows you to the door.
“i’ll eat lunch around 11:30,” you say, “and i’ll be free until oneish.”
“it’s a date.” chrollo wraps his arms around you again, his hands sliding down and grabbing your ass before resuming a normal hug. you chuckle into his chest.
chrollo kisses your hand and helps you into your coat, handing your purse over and kissing your forehead. it’s so warm and domestic, chrollo soaking up the stark contrast to his normal, thieving life.
—
“hi besties! hi besties!” you call, trying to wrangle your group of rambunctious kindergartners. it takes a few moments, but they all quiet down and look up at you. “besties, let’s look at the clock! what time is it?” you ask, pointing up at the clock.
there’s a resounding cheer for lunchtime. giggling to yourself, you quiet them down again. “let’s all get our lunchboxes and go line up at the door!” you get up from behind your desk and wait patiently, before continuing the explanations. “today y’all are eating lunch with mr. angelo’s class, okay? so we’re going to go walk down to his room. how do the best besties walk in the hall?”
immediately, the kids blow the cheeks out, putting a bubble in their mouths. you smile and clap for them, before leading them down a few doors. while you’re ushering the kids into the room, you smile when you see chrollo walking through the halls, holding a rather large box tied with a black cloth and a neon yellow visitor tag on his shirt. you give him a tiny wave before pointing to your room, which he ducks into.
you wish your students one last good lunch before heading back to your room, shutting the door behind you. chrollo is sitting in your nice desk chair, looking through your treasure chest of treats for well behaved students.
“see anything you like?” you ask with a smile, coming over to give him a kiss.
chrollo pulls out a cheap plastic spider ring. he holds it up to you. “marry me?”
“of course!” you say, holding your hand out to him. he slides the ring up against the engagement ring that is already there. chrollo smiles and kisses your knuckles before he stands to get a different chair for himself.
he ends up with your old office chair, dragging it over and unpacking lunch for the two of you. a few rolls of sushi and rice, as well as some soup.
“did you make all of this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
chrollo nods. “it didn’t take too long. and i’ll admit, the miso was already in the fridge. so you made that.”
grinning, you lean over and kiss his cheek, “thank you, angel. i appreciate it.”
“i appreciate you,” chrollo responds, easy as breathing. it makes you blush.
midway through your meal, your conversation is disrupted by the door opening quickly and footsteps running in.
“sorry miss [first] i forgot my gym uniform!”
you watch as one of your most rambunctious students rushes in, looks through his backpack, waves at you, then rushes back out.
“those don’t sound like walking feet to me, ryan!” you call after him. his shoes skid on the tile and he rushes back.
“coach didn’t give me very long!” he whines.
you frown and beckon ryan over, grabbing a sticky off your desk and writing out a message in neat cursive. please give my students time to walk in the halls ♡︎
handing it to ryan, you look him in the eyes. “walk, okay? and give this to coach.”
ryan nods seriously. he then looks at your plate. “what are you eating?”
“sushi,” you say.
“can i have some?” ryan asks hopefully.
“sorry bestie, i can’t share with you. you need to get back to class, though. use your walking feet!”
ryan gives you a thumbs up before rushing back out. he immediately starts running again.
chrollo raises his eyebrows in amusement. “bestie?”
“maybe you should call the troupe your besties and they’d argue with you less,” you point out. it makes chrollo laugh.
“i adore you,” he says, shaking his head. “are you sure i can’t take you back home right now?”
“i cant, angel. we still have science class.”
chrollo raises his eyebrows. “what are you doing today?”
“birdwatching,” you say seriously. “it’s so beautiful out today.”
“is that what they’re teaching in schools nowadays?” chrollo asks with a frown.
“i’m not explaining dante to a bunch of five year olds, chrollo,” you say.
“i think you could,” chrollo says. “you’re very good at it.”
you reach over to pat chrollo’s cheek, only to cup his jaw. he turns his head to kiss your palm. “let me take you out tonight.”
“where are we going?” you ask.
chrollo shrugs. “i haven’t decided yet but i want to show you off.”
you blush at that. “alright. i’ll save some energy for you.”
your nice, desk lunch gets cut short by a visit from ryan again, only this time he has another note for you, and immediately after delivering it, sits at his table and puts his head in his hands. you look over at him before back to chrollo. the two of you are equally interested in the contents of the notes.
ryan can’t keep his hands to himself. please have him clean something to learn his lesson. sorry for interrupting your planning period.
“merde,” you whisper under your breath, looking to chrollo apologetically. “sorry angel, you gotta bounce.”
chrollo sighs and gathers the tupperwares from lunch. “it’s alright, my love. i’ll see you tonight. i’m just glad i got to steal a few moments with you.” he leans down to give your cheek a kiss, and you hold up a folder to hide the minimal pda.
after the door shuts behind chrollo, you look to ryan. “alright, bestie. what happened?”
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Meeting for the First Time
Bio!Dad Bruce
So here is my first contribution to the Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020,
Day 1: Meeting for the First Time
@biodad-bruce-month
Next
~~~~~~~~~~
Okay granted noting seemed to ever go Marinette’s way. But this was the ultimate punch in the gut the universe could send her.
It started off as a normal Friday, 8 months since the liar came back to school. 8 months since she threatened to pull everyone, she cared about from her and leave her alone. Well 6 month ago Lila’s threat came true. Today she simply walked into class and ignore the cruel stares and watched as feet would pop out to trip her. Well she made it to her desk in one piece and that was a plus.
She was pulling out her tablet and then she heard and felt something slam onto her desk. It was a binder nearly exploding with paper’s and behind it was none other than Alya. “Hey Girl” she started trying to keep her voice friendly, but the repulsion was evident in her voice. “We were wondering if you could do us a favor” she gave Marinette a strained smile and when she didn’t answer continued “Can you help me plan Lila’s sweet 16 as a way to make up for bullying her.”
Marinette was beginning to become livid, her best friend, scratch that her EX- best friend, is asking her to plan a bully’s and a Liar’s party. No, oh Kwamii No she will not be doing that. She was about to say so when Miss Bustier walked in holding several envelopes.
“Please take a seat” Miss Bustier said and that was when Mari moved the binder as far from her as possible. “Today I have the results of the genetic testing we sent a while ago.” Everyone was beginning to murmur excitedly. Mari could only shrink into her seat. She was dreading this for multiple reasons. “Marinette would you please?”
Mari stood up and walked to her teacher took the envelopes and passed them out to the designated person. She kept hers and slipped it into her bag as soon as she got back to her seat.
She knew what it would say. She knew that it would not have what her ‘friends’ would think. It would only prove as Lila would claim that she was not actually wanted and that she was bullying her because she was loved, and Mari wasn’t. Luckily, no one noticed her as they were too excited with their own results. It wasn’t until the lunch bell rang that the dreaded moment came.
“So, Mari what were your results.” Adrien asked, once upon a time she would have gushed at him talking to her but now her crush was nothing but a pile of ashes in the wind.
“I don’t know” She replied as she picked up her bag and began to head out of the class.
“Wait you didn’t look at it” Adrien practically yelled and that got the class’s attention. He was giving her a frown and couldn’t believe that she wouldn’t even look.
“Why would you not look at your result Marinette?” Lila spoke in a sickly-sweet voice. “Are you ashamed that you have someone you want to hide from the class?” everyone began to murmur and was beginning to give her skeptical glares. As if she would attack them, almost no one noticed how Kim and Nino came around to block the door.
Mari was beginning to grow frustrated that they would not let her leave and that they continued to glare at her like a criminal. She had enough. “I WAS ADOPTED!!!” that made everyone go quiet and stared at her. “I was adopted when I was a couple of moths old and I have NO intention on knowing my biological family” she turned, and Nino and Kim were shocked that she simply slipped passed them and went home.
However, she knew who her biological father was. Well that isn’t the entire truth, she found out she was adopted when she was 10 years old. Her Biological father reached out stating he didn’t know until recently that he had a child. He wanted to get to know her and be a part of her life. However, Mari was stubborn, Tom and Sabine were her parents, so she told him she didn’t want to meet. Surprise though he was stubborn as well, he gave Mari his number and to call or message him even if it were to complain about him or anything at all. This had surprised her, and she did. She texted her father with things she didn’t feel she could tell her parents.
For the past 5 years she had told him about school, or mistakes she had made, and about her passion in fashion. He always seemed to listen and just let her rant. It was good for her. When she became ladybug, she was excited to tell him about the heroes of Paris. He sometimes never answered but she saw that he read them and that was comforting.
He became someone outside of Paris who helped anchor her. He would send her gifts for her birthday and messaged her when he could, and he really did help her though most of what was going on at school. She only knew him as Father, no name attached and that was fine. That was why she didn’t want to open the letter. She didn’t want a name to the person who cares for her as Marinette.
She went to the bakery and climbed the stairs knowing that it would be quiet. Her parents were taking a trip abroad for their anniversary along with her Nonna and that left her alone. “Tikki?” the little goddess floated up to her. “Should… should I… should I look at the names?” Mari wasn’t sure if she ever wanted to know but she also knew that she possibly would like to know.
“Mari the choice is yours but know that no one not even your father will think less of you if you never want to know.” Tikki really is always sure and can always make her feel better. Mari simply nodded went to get something to eat and stared at the letter she pulled out. As she finished her lunch and washed her plate, she turned to the letter with determination she opened it and read. Her Mother was blank, meaning that she probably hasn’t put her information on any site, but does say that she is of European decent. Then she looked at her father, he had a photo, black hair, and the same bluebell eyes. He was dressed in a suit and she looked at the name, Bruce Wayne. Next to her own photo was the photo of boy with tanned skin, black hair, and emerald green eyes, the name next to it was Damian Wayne. So, she had a brother, he looked close to her age, maybe he was the reason why her father contacted her years ago. Her father was also from European decent but that was about it. She’ll look into it more after school she dropped the envelope off in her room and left to go back.
She went back to class and sat in her seat before the bell rang so she was the first person back into the classroom. She kept her head down and didn’t look up from the sketch she was working on, she heard the whispers and caught a few glances at her, but she ignored them.
“Mari?” oh Kwamii why does he have to talk now again. She looked up and his expression softened into a small smile or more like a frown. “Do you…” he rubbed his neck. At this point everyone was staring between the two completely silent. “Do you want to talk about it?”
At this she scoffed “Why?” she was confused at this they wouldn’t talk to her unless it was to yell at her so why should she be vulnerable for them.
Alix spoke up “Why do you bother asking her anyways Adrien?” she snarked throwing Mari a glare. Adrien looked sheepish, and that was when Lila struck.
“Well if she puts it out in the open, she wouldn’t bully me, since we can help her. Make her feel loved since her parents didn’t want her” she spoke calmly and sweetly, and everyone nodded and agreed.
“Tell us Mari, you can trust us girl” Alya spoke from the class.
“Now why...” Mari was cut off as Miss Bustier entered to start the class. However, not even 10 minutes into the class the door opened. A man in a suit holding a folder came into the room.
“Miss Bustier” he asked, and the teacher nodded, so he continued. “I am sorry to disturb the class, but I need to speak with Miss Dupain-Cheng”
The teacher nodded and called “Marinette” gesturing towards the door. But of course, nothing was ever simple in this class.
“Sir if you need Marinette then you should also take Lila” Alya spoke up.
The man simply looked confused, “Why would I do that?”
“Marinette is bullying Lila so if you need Mari you need Lila as well” she huffed proud of her logic.
“I am sorry, but I really only need Miss Dupain-Cheng”
“Well whatever you need to say to her you can tell all of us”
Now the man looked exasperated and he turned towards the teacher. She nodded “It is for the best whatever you need to tell Marinette you can tell the class.” She stated.
He huffed and walked up the stairs to Marinette. “I am so very sorry for your loss Miss Dupain-Cheng. If you would please come with me, you are needed to verify the bodies.” This left the class in a quiet shock. They couldn’t believe what they just heard. Mari was wide eyed filled with tears ready to fall and was numb. She didn’t hear when everyone began to speak at once demanding answers of the man. And now Mari could tell he was mad. “Really I do not need to answer your questions as this matter only pertains to Miss Dupain-Cheng, this should have been done in private, so you” he pointed at Miss Bustier “will most likely be getting a call as soon as I will report this.” This shut up the class and he helped her up and walked her out.
Identifying the bodies was a blur in her mind, she was told they died as a riot stormed the airport on their way home. She was asked if she had anywhere to go “can you please give me a moment?” she spoke weakly and the woman who was in charge of her smiled and left her in the room. Thank the Kwamii that Hawkmoth had been inactive lately, so she was able to cry and mourn. She needed to tell someone anyone, but those she loved were gone and now what was she going to do. Tikki popped her head out of the bag and patted her leg. That was when she saw her phone, she picked it up and scrolled through her contacts. She got to the name Bio! Dad and pressed the call.
It rang a few times before he picked up. “Marinette is everything okay you don’t usually call?” she started to cry, and this put worry into his voice. “Mari sweetie what’s wrong. Deep breaths with me 1 in, hold 2, out 3. Again.” He repeated this until she was no longer gasping for breath.
“Maman, Papa, and Nonna died” she couldn’t keep strong anymore “please, please don’t leave me too.”
“I won’t Mari” his voice was the softest she had ever heard from him “I’ll be on the first plane over. I won’t leave you I promise” he hung up and she was finally starting to feel lighter. The woman from before came back.
“Are you okay sweetie?” she gave her a smile.
“I think I will be?” she gave a small smile.
“That call must have helped” Mari nodded in acceptance to the statement. “Who was it?”
“My Father, he is coming for me” the woman looked at her as if she grew another head. “My biological father. My maman, papa, and nonna that died were my adoptive family.” At that the woman gave her a sympathetic smile and a hug. “they were my family but…”
“Sweetie you don’t have to always be strong its okay to be sad.” She began to cry again. She was dropped off at the bakery by Officer Raincomprix, who gave her a sad smile and then left. Mari fell asleep in her parents’ room, Tikki curled up next to her.
She woke up the next morning and opened the Bakery, allowed in the staff, and went back to the apartment. Afterwards she went back up and curled up in her parents’ bed, but a notification on her phone made her stir again.
Bio!Dad: I’m in Paris where do you want me to meet you Mari?
Mari: The Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie
Bio!Dad: I’ll be there soon I promise.
Not long after a staff member knocked on the door, she recognized the voice. “Someone is here to see you”
“Mari can I come in?” she heard Bruce and that prompted her to open the door. She didn’t care that she looked like a mess, as soon as the door opened, she hugged him and started to cry for what felt like the hundredth time in the past 24 hrs. He murmured reassurances to her and led her to the couch.
---
If anyone had told him that he was going to rush onto a plane because of the daughter he has never met in person called him crying, he would not have given you any kind of reaction. But here he is on a jet headed to Paris to meet and comfort his daughter, after her parent’s death. Yikes that is a lot to handle.
The only positive to all this is that he left discreetly enough that he wasn’t tailed by the boys. And that was a relief, if Mari had to meet him for the first time that alone was one thing but meeting Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian would probably send the child over the edge. That is considering the fact that she actually deals with and processes emotions like a human and not like a bat.
He hadn’t even finished checking into his hotel and he was restless he knew that Mari needed him and if Bruce was anything, he was overprotective of his family. And right now, one of his family was hurt and he had to do something. He texted her and she told him to go to a bakery.
Well if she said to go to a Bakery then he went to a Bakery. He stepped in and looked around before going up to the counter.
“Excuse me Miss?” he stated towards a Girl no older than Twenty behind the counter placing pastries into the case.
“Hello, how can I assist you today?” she smiled.
“I am here to speak with Marinette.”
“Ah. Your first time here right.” He nodded his head. “That girl always forgets. Follow me” he was confused but followed the young woman through the kitchen and to a small hallway and up a flight of stairs. Where she knocked on a door. There was shuffling on the other side “Someone is here to see you” she plainly stated, and footsteps were heard near the door but just shy of opening it.
“Mari can I come in?” his question was tentative but even he was surprised by the softness of his voice.
The door swung open and there she stood. Oh, she was adorable. Her black hair was in a messy bun and had blue highlights that emphasized her bluebell eyes, which were red and puffy from her crying. She fell into him into a hug and she was so small, he had to protect her from everything. The worker left and he moved the two of them to the couch.
After a couple of hours, he got the full story and to say he was pissed was an understatement. First there was the teacher and how they had handled the situation was awful, but besides that he wanted Mari safe, but he had to know what she wanted instead of making the decisions for her. He learned the hard way with his boys.
Next
#bio! dadbrucewaynemonth2020#b ! dbwm2020#maribat#dc x miraculous#miraculous x dc#mlb x dc#dc x mlb#bruce wayne#marinette dupain cheng#class salt#unsure adrien#bio!dad bruce wayne
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the shrooms cafe
part 1- watermelon tea with strawberry boba

hello everyone 🥺 this is the first series i've ever done so i'm a little nervous but i'm so excited because I really like this story!!!
this is the first part, and I have literally no idea how long it will be because I don't have a solid plan/outline yet! so feel free to send little concepts or things you would like to see included 🥺 i can't guarantee they will be added but i'll definitely try my best :)
shrooms cafe masterlist
my masterlist
warnings: none
word count: 2k
"Stella, we have to leave in 10 minutes!" You called up the stairs. "Come down so you can eat breakfast!" "Yeah Stella, hurry up!" Seraphina yelled from her spot at the dining table. She was finishing up her fruit loops with a grin on her face. "You're going to make us late!" As the youngest, she often liked to bother her sisters. She was only five, just starting kindergarten, but she was already a master at getting under their skin.
"Sera, don't antagonize your sister, please," you reminded her. "She's not going to make us late." Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seraphina, you're so immature." Despite only being 11, Sophie was clearly the mother hen. You sometimes joked that the girls didn't even need you; Sophie would take on the role of their mother with no problem. "Besides, you were the one who made us late yesterday." "It's not my fault I couldn't find my purple socks. What was I supposed to do?" "Maybe wear different socks?" Sophie suggested smugly. "You know I need my purple socks, otherwise I can't write my words!" Sophie rolled her eyes again. "You don't need a certain color socks to write." "Yes I do!" You smiled to yourself, turning back to the fridge as the two bickered. You pulled out the ingredients you would need to make their lunches, then reached up on your tiptoes to get their lunch bags from the top of fridge. "Okay girls, what kind of sandwiches do you want today?" "Peanut butter and jelly!" Seraphina said excitedly. "Why did I even ask?" You smiled. "And Sophie?" "Turkey please, but I can make it myself," She said, sliding off her chair and bringing the breakfast dishes to the sink. "Thank you, love," you said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "You are such a big help in the mornings, I don't know what I would do without you." "You would have a real handful dealing with those two," She said matter-of-factly. "That I would," you laughed, handing her a butter knife. "Stella!" you called again. The 8 year old came running down the stairs, carrying her backpack and another bag. "Did you forget I have dance today?" "I did not forget," you reassured her. She liked to plan things, and got worried quickly if she wasn't kept in the loop. "I'll pick you up at the door by the playground, does that work?" "Actually, I was wondering if I could walk today? A bunch of my friends do, and I feel kind of weird having my mom drop me off." "That should be fine," You nodded. "But stay with the group, don't go off by yourself." "I won't," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're so overprotective." "Oh yes, I'm so sorry for trying to keep you safe," you laughed. "Now what do you want for lunch?" Once everything was ready, the four of you made your way out to the car. Stella climbed into the back, and Sophie helped Seraphina get buckled. Even though the three of them bickered a lot (as sisters often do) it wasn't hard to see how much they loved each other. "Everybody buckled?" You asked, looking behind you. When you heard a chorus of confirmation, you started your playlist and smiled when the opening notes of Adore You filtered through the speakers. It was easily one of your favorite songs, and the girls liked it just as much as you did. It wasn't a long drive to the cafe; it took about 15 minutes if traffic was good. The girls' school bus stopped about a block away, so they walked there together every morning. Then after school, they would come back to the shop and read books or finish homework until it was time to close up and go home. You parked in the lot behind the shop, helping the girls out of the car and making sure they had all their things. Seraphina held out her hand, and Stella grabbed it to help her jump over a puddle on the sidewalk. Sophie gasped excitedly. "I think that was the biggest jump you've ever done!" The girls promptly launched into a discussion about who could jump farther as you unlocked the door. As soon as it was open, they made their way over to the mushrooms to find some books for the day. Their voices filled the shop as they chatted about school and the cute boy Stella liked and the kitten they had seen outside their house the other day. You went about your morning duties, flipping on the lights and starting up the coffee machine. You also turned on the oven, preparing to bake the muffins. (They were frozen- who has the time to bake them fresh? Certainly not a mother of 3.) Once the kitchen was ready, you went over to the radio and tuned it to a familiar station, the soft
music adding some pleasant background noise. "Okay girls, it's time to get to the bus stop," you said, leaning over the counter to speak to them. "Don't forget, I'm walking to dance," Stella said, pointing at you as she walked to the door. "I won't forget," you said, pointing back at her. "Have a good day!" "Bye mom," Seraphina waved her small hand at you. "Bye honey, bye Sophia," You smiled, blowing a kiss to the three of them. "See you later!" Once the three of them were gone, you went around to the shelves and straightened up, getting ready for your first customers.
-----
After the lunch rush had dwindled down and the shop was nearly empty again, you were getting ready to go on your lunch break. You had just leaned down to grab a sandwich from the deli case when the bell above the door jingled, alerting you that a new customer had come in. You straightened up, your eyes going wide when you realized who it was, but you quickly fixed your face and smiled. "Welcome to the Shrooms Cafe!" "Hello," the man smiled back, speaking in a deep British accent. "I saw your sign for boba tea, and I've been looking everywhere to find some. You're the third shop I've been to today, so I'm really hoping you're not sold out like everywhere else," he grinned, coming closer to the counter. "No, we're not out! What kind did you want?" You asked. "Um... probably should have thought about that before I came in," he laughed nervously, looking at the menu above your head. "Oh, don't worry about it, we're not busy right now," you said reassuringly. “Take all the time you need.” He smiled gratefully, stepping off to the side while he read the menu. Meanwhile, you fidgeted with towels and wiped off the work surfaces and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him. Who could blame you, really? Harry Styles had just walked into your coffee shop. Who wouldn’t stare? “I think…” he spoke again, breaking you out of your trance. “I’ll do the watermelon tea, with strawberry boba, please.” You nodded, laughing lightly. He quirked one eyebrow, smiling along with you. “What’s funny?” “Oh, no, it’s just… of course you would order the one with watermelon.” “Oh,” he smiled, and you thought you detected a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I guess I do have a bit of a reputation with fruit, don’t I?” “Just a little,” you grinned. “One watermelon tea with strawberry boba, coming right up.” After ringing up the order, you quickly got to work. Instead of his real name, you wrote “watermelon man” on the sticker on the cup. Hopefully he would appreciate your little joke. “Here you are,” you smiled. “I hope it’s good, seeing as you worked so hard to find some.” “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he laughed, grabbing a straw from beside the cash register. You also noticed he had dropped a generous tip into the jar, probably while you had been busy making the drink. “Have a nice day,” you smiled. “You as well,” he said with a small wave before he made his way out the door, sipping his drink as he went. You sighed, shaking your head with a small grin as you grabbed the sandwich from earlier and went to a table for your lunch break.
-----
“Hi mom!” Sophie yelled, holding open the door for Seraphina. “Hi girls!” You called from the back corner of the shop. “I’m by the mushrooms!” The girls quickly found you, Seraphia hugging you and Sophie situating herself on one of the short stools. “How was your day?” You asked. “Good! I gave my report on monarch butterflies and guess what Mrs. Wilson said?” Sophie asked, leaning forward. “What did she say?” “She said it was the best report she had heard all day. She waited until the other kids left so they wouldn’t feel bad, but still,” she said proudly. “Oh wow! I’m so proud of you,” you said, moving over to hug her. “What did I tell you? You can do anything you put your mind to,” you smiled. “Including writing the best report in the whole class, hmm?” She nodded happily before turning away from you to pull a book off the shelf closest to her. “Which one are you starting now?” You asked, leaning over her shoulder to see the book she had. “Anne of Green Gables,” she said. “Oh, I loved those books when I was your age,” you smiled. “I think you’ll really like them.”
She nodded, already immersed in the book. You turned back to Seraphina, who was pulling her folder out of her backpack. “And how was your day, miss Seraphina?” “It was so good, look!” She handed you a paper with two gold stars at the top. “My teacher gave me two gold stars. She said my writing was very good!"
"All that practicing we did must have worked, then!" you said, beaming as you looked at her letters. They were still wobbly, but a huge improvement over how they had been at the beginning of the school year.
She nodded. "And then I colored this picture for you!” She handed you another page. This one had a drawing of you holding hands with her, Sophie, and Stella. The three of you had big smiles and lots of adorable little details. Stella had her hair in a bun and was wearing ballet shoes. Sophie was holding a book in her free hand. Seraphina had drawn herself wearing a shirt with a cat (her favorite animal) on it, and she was wearing her purple socks. Lastly, there was you, holding a cup of coffee and wearing a shirt with a big red heart on it. “Since you like coffee so much,” she explained. “It's beautiful,” you smiled, hugging her. “We’ll hang it on the fridge when we get home, okay?” “Okay,” she agreed. “Why don’t you find a book and read with Sophie for a little bit? We have just over an hour, then we have to go get Stella from dance.” She nodded, handing you the papers and her backpack before running over to the shelves. She grabbed a picture book, settling into the red cushion in the tree and beginning to flip through the pages.
----- “Alright girls, it’s time to pick up Stella,” you said as you wiped off the counter one last time. You had already turned off all the machines and packed up everything else for the day. You flipped the lights off on the way out, smiling a bit when you saw the hand painted sign for boba tea in the window. Harry came into your mind again, with his easy smile, his kind words, and his blushing laugh. You really hoped you would see him again, even though you knew you probably wouldn't. Your shop wasn't very big or well known. How likely was it for him to come to the same little shop in the middle of London again? Still, it didn’t hurt to hope. Maybe he would decide to try the other flavors and stop in again. Your smile spread even further when you started your playlist and Lights Up was the first song to come on. Apparently, it was going to be hard to forget about him.
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles/you fanfiction#harry styles x reader fanfiction#harry styles/reader fanfiction#harrystylesxyou#harry styles x you fanfiction#harrystylesxreader#harry styles/reader#harry styles/you#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry fanfiction#the shrooms cafe
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Humanity
Upon their arrest by the GIW together, Valerie learns something interesting about Phantom and herself that make her question just how human both herself and Phantom are.
note that this isn’t a phic phight thing, just something i wrote literally months ago for Lexx but forgot that i wrote
on FFN and AO3
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They didn't even have the decency to arrest her before Mr. Lancer's class. Being arrested for...well, the Guys in White were never really clear as to why they showed up to Casper High to arrest her. But whatever the reason, that would have been one hell of an excuse as to why she was not just missing, but why she couldn't turn in that book report that she not only didn't do, but hadn't even read a single page of yet. Valerie had an inkling she knew why, but she remained completely silent the entire march out the front doors of the school. She wasn't an idiot after all.
The agent to her left opened the door, and the agent to her right put his hand on her head to duck her into the white SUV. The door closed, and Valerie glanced to see just how tinted the windows were, as well as the police-style framing of the windows and the separation between the driver and passenger as well as the backseat dwellers.
"Oh, I was wondering why we stopped here."
That familiar voice made her jump, and she turned to see Phantom. He was in the exact same predicament. Hands behind his back, leaning against the seat, though she could immediately tell that his handcuffs were much clunkier and glowed. Obviously anti-ghost.
"You!" Valerie hissed. She immediately leaned into the window, lifting her leg up, and she began to kick him repeatedly. "What the hell are you doing here!?"
"Ow!" Phantom hissed as she got him in the shoulder, and then his rib. She didn't stop, and she didn't miss. "AH! Fuck, stop it! OW!"
"Knock it off!" one of the agents boomed. The sudden, strict tone made Valerie pause. She kicked him one more time, square in the face, before finally stopping.
Phantom made a weird wheezing noise, and she saw him shift to rub his nose on his upper arm and shoulder. He frowned.
"My nose is bleeding," he complained.
"I hope your nose is broken!" Valerie snapped back at him.
Phantom glared at her. He made a weird noise in his throat, and it took Valerie a moment to realize what he was doing. Preparing spit. And indeed, the ghost teen stuck his tongue out, drool instantly dripping, and he leaned in. Valerie instantly leaned away from him.
"Ew! Gross! Get away from me!" she complained.
"Nu-uh!" Phantom replied, his tongue still out as he continued to scoot. He got close enough to open his mouth, and some of his saliva dripped onto her knee.
"Gross, gross, gross!" she shrieked. Valerie kicked him in the side, and Phantom let out a pained wheeze.
"Knock. It. Off," the other agent snapped at them. They had gotten into the driver and passenger's seat, and both were glaring at them.
"She started it!" Phantom accused. The driver frowned at him, obviously not amused. Phantom scooted back to his side of the backseat. Valerie stayed pressed against the window and door. She could hear the drive mutter something about hating kids before turning the vehicle on, and they drove off.
--------------------------
They made the duo sit in the interrogation room for three hours, according to the clock. They had, thankfully, just connected the teenagers to the table via a long chain and handcuffs, so that they could at least be a bit more comfortable, even though Phantom, and for some reason her, were both given anti-ghost bracelets to wear. A box of tissues were also tossed onto the table, and Phantom had spent the first half hour tending to his bloodied nose. He stuffed all the used tissues, grossly, into his pocket, though she suspected why he did that. It had his DNA on it.
Phantom nor her attempted conversation. Neither were stupid. They essentially stared at each other and the walls, their only words were occasional out-loud wondering of when somebody was going to show up to question them already.
Obviously her more pressing question was why the hell they were still together. For some reason, Phantom was with her every step of the way of their weird little field trip. They got escorted in together, processed together, and now were sat at the exact same interrogation table. Why? She had absolutely no idea. Didn't they normally separate people they arrested?
At exactly 6:38 PM, somebody finally opened the door, and she and Phantom sat straight up.
The agent that sat before them was a large man, muscular and tall with big hands and sunglasses that fully blocked any chance of the teens from seeing what he was looking at.
"We know you're both half-ghost."
Valerie's mind instantly went to Vlad. That must have been what he was...she had been debating with herself for weeks now as to what he was. A ghost disguised as a human? A human who had ghost powers?
She pushed those aside to look at Phantom. To her surprise, he was pale. Nearly as white as his hair, with anxiety sweat drops beginning to form. Her interest peaked instantly. Silence hung in the air. The man said nothing, simply keeping his attention intensely on them. Valerie
"That's ridiculous," Valerie finally said something. She nearly added that the entire idea itself was ridiculous too. Well, it kind of was. It was so weird to grasp, but it wasn't really something that she wanted to think too hard about these days, and especially now. There was nothing more that she'd love to do than to throw that manipulative old bastard under the weird half-ghost freak bus. However, not only was it probably not a good idea to start beef with a literal superpowered-villain billionaire...but Dani was still out there.
"Don't lie to me." The man sounded agitated. "Both of your ectoplasmic readings are abnormal."
Ectoplasmic reading? Her? Valerie stared at him as if he had grown a second head.
"I shouldn't have any ectoplasmic reading," she pointed out. "I'm alive. Alive people don't have ectoplasmic readings."
The man opened up his folder, pulling out a few choice pieces of papers to slide her way. Phantom silently watched them, his eyes wide and his face looking utterly blank yet...so fearful. Valerie opted to ignore him for a while, accepting the papers to hold as she read through them.
She was familiar with how to read ectoplasmic readings, charts and monitors by now. Green eyes scanned the data, frowning in confusion as she checked the details, and she could see out of the corner of her eye Phantom leaning in to read too. She adjusted her position so that he couldn't.
This description was definitely her, and...she was giving off ectoplasmic readings. Not really in the same way as a normal ghost; there was something distinctively different about hers that any set of trained eyes could pick up on. But how?
"I don't understand," Valerie spoke slowly. "I'm alive." She put the documents back down on the table. "You can take a swap or slap some ghost goop stuff on me. Hell, prick my finger." Valerie held her palm out to the man. Her anti-ghost bracelet sparkled a bit in the light of the room. At least she now knew why they made her wear the bracelets too. "I'm not dead."
The interviewer stared intently at her hand. He gave a neutral hum of acknowledgement, swooping the papers back up.
"Testing and experiments will be reserved for a later time," he replied. Valerie got instant goosebumps. Testing and experiments? "Maybe a few hours in holding will help you realize why you should just come clean to us."
"Can I get some water first?" Valerie asked. The agent snorted in amusement as he stood up.
"Ghosts don't eat or drink."
She felt numb, and she had no idea how to respond to that. Two more agents came into the room, and they silently took the teenagers further into the building until they reached a door. The third agent opened it, and Phantom and Valerie were ushered inside.
The room almost immediately led into bars, and the first thing Valerie could think of was just how much it looked like jail. Two uncomfortable looking bunk beds on either side, a toilet in the middle, a small sink, and no windows. The light was dim, and the room was cold.
Phantom was pushed in first, and then Valerie, and the bars clunked as they closed. She turned to see the bars begin to glow as the bars were locked.
And there was no goodbyes. The agents were eerily silent as they filed out, and the door was shut behind them. She could hear the faint click as it also locked.
Valerie turned to see Phantom's reaction, and he still looked shaken and pale. She already suspected the answer, but she needed to hear it.
"So...are you?" Valerie asked.
"No!" Phantom's answer was way too quick. "What about you? Don't you hate ghosts?"
"I'm not half ghost!" she snapped back. "I have no clue why they'd think that."
Phantom studied her for a moment. His eyes lit up.
"Your suit!" he declared. "The one Technus gave you. It must make your reading wonky."
The second he reminded her, she felt a cold shiver. Suddenly her heartbeat felt off, and she assumed she was colder than usual because of...ya know. That couldn't be true. It had to be wonky readings. The suit was so nice...so much nicer than the suit that she had made herself. It was so much more powerful, so much nicer, just flat out cooler.
She put her heart over her chest. She still had a heartbeat, right?
"What's your excuse?" she asked. Phantom didn't say anything. He turned his attention to the wall, staring blankly at it.
"...Why would they let us stay trapped in here together?" Phantom changed the subject. Valerie narrowed her eyes at him, but she had to admit. It was a good point. "Especially knowing that we'd just plot our escape together."
"Pump the breaks, Phantom. I'm not escaping," Valerie scoffed. "They'll realize their mistake and just let me go."
"Well, they're not gonna let me go," Phantom frowned. "The Guys in White don't exactly play nice with ghosts. And I'm not leaving without you."
"Not my problem," Valerie replied. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Unless...of course there's a reason for it to be my problem."
"You can't just do it out of the kindness of your heart?" Phantom sounded sarcastic, despite staring at her desperately. Valerie crossed her arms. "Please?"
"Give me one good reason to escape with you."
And thus began a staring contest. Phantom shifted from foot to foot, and he glanced at the floor. A lightbulb made the realization click. The GIW knew her identity. They arrested her at school. But they didn't know Phantom's. Nobody probably did. This was likely a ploy to get them to reveal themselves to each other. How or why, Valerie wasn't sure. But now it was glaringly obvious to her.
Phantom was half-ghost. Just like Dani. Just like Vlad. The Guys in White don't play nice with ghosts, and she had a strong feeling that they didn't care much about playing nice with humans either. Especially if they suspected that there was ghost within them.
"Nevermind," Valerie sighed. Phantom stared at her, and he...looked scared. "I can destroy ghosts…" But I really can't take part in destroying a human.
Phantom grew a bit pale again, as they both knew the unspoken words. He took a deep, shaky breath. His reaction was all she needed to know, that this wasn't some weird lie or ploy.
"So. What's our game plan?" he asked.
Valerie studied their surroundings. She reached out to touch the bars of their shared cell, taking immediate note that she wasn't shocked.
"Well, obviously there's that big shield outside," Valerie lightly mused.
"I can get past that shield," Phantom spoke up. "Under the...right circumstances."
Valerie nodded. If Phantom was able to turn human away from the prying eyes of cameras and more, they could both obviously escape right out the front door. Hell, they could likely utilize both Phantom and his? Human? Side? Whatever he was called.
"This facility was designed for ghosts, not humans," Phantom continued. "If we worked together, we can probably make a quick exit." Valerie hummed in agreement.
"That's not just enough," Valerie replied. "I'll just get arrested again. They know who I am. Like, they know Valerie Gray is the huntress." Phantom frowned, and he thought for a moment.
"We could maybe delete their evidence files or something?" he suggested. Valerie paced their cell for a moment.
"There has to be some kind of computer security room somewhere," Valerie spoke aloud to herself. "If we can find it, we can probably wipe evidence and also fully take down the shield."
Phantom leaned against the back wall of the cell.
"I don't think that's enough," he replied. Valerie stopped pacing to stare at him. "We need to make sure the Guys in White don't do this again. Ever. Never even have the chance to get to this point again." Valerie scowled.
"They help hunt ghosts!" she protested.
"And they'd consider Danielle a ghost and rip her to shreds," Phantom countered. The reminder of that little girl hit her straight in the gut. She sighed.
"I don't know," she said slowly.
"They're a government organization, they'll rebuild," Phantom pushed. "We just need to stall them long enough to buy time for us to figure out how to keep you, Danielle and I safe."
She hated it, but...yeah. She wasn't really in the best position either. Valerie had no clue what was going on with her, but the Guys in White were incredibly persistent...and she knew her dad wouldn't be able to afford a lawyer for her anymore.
Valerie held her wrist up. Her suit's bracelet was basically hidden underneath the anti-ghost one, but she could still feel it there. Her suit wasn't gone. She could still access it, and that made her feel more confident in that she was still human. Which she had to be. Right?
Valerie activated her suit, and she held her wrist up to read the screen. She pressed a few buttons.
"I think I can figure out a map of this place," she said. "And from there we can see where's what."
Her forearm glowed brightly as it gathered data. It took a few moments of calculating, but soon, she had her results. Phantom was soon peering over her shoulder, both of them studying the map.
"How accurate is this?" Phantom questioned.
"It tends to be fairly decent. Sometimes it's hit or miss with collapsed buildings, but overall it's spot on," she replied. She adjusted the screen, zooming it out. "I can only get the floor we're on though."
"That looks like it could be some kind of utility room," Phantom pointed to a specific room. Valerie zoomed in on it, studying it.
"Yeah," she said slowly. "Yeah. Gotta be. It's got a lot of power coming to or from there. Has to be a source, or at the very least some kind of major technology area."
"Either way, we should destroy it," Phantom said. Valerie frowned.
"I don't know," she hesitated.
"I mean, you can't even summon your powers."
Phantom glanced down at his wrists, glancing curiously at them before setting his sights on Valerie's arms.
"Can you shoot them off?" he asked.
Valerie tried to summon one of her weapons. She waited. And she waited. Nothing came, and her gut became queasy. She couldn't get her ghost weapon. None of them would summon. This had to be a bad sign. Or was it just the GIW prepared against humans too? That was the most logical explanation. She couldn't be…But also she could be...after all the ectoplasmic readings...
"Um, actually, I think I can…" Phantom's voice caused her to truly look at him again. The ghost was fiddling with his wristbands, using his knees to lock it in place as he attempted to slip his wrist through the band with no success.
"Here, let me try," Valerie interrupted him. Phantom glanced up at her.
"Can you shoot them?" he asked. Valerie forced a weak smile, but she held up a screwdriver.
"Got something even better. My travel tool kit," she replied. After too many breakdowns in the field, she had replaced a small pouch that previously held smoke bombs, something she rarely used, with a few small tools. It was easily one of the best choices she made.
Phantom held his wrist out to her, and she turned the bracelet around. Eventually she managed to pry a piece of the metallic covering off, exposing screws and a few wires. Valerie didn't undo or cut anything right away, both her and Phantom silently trying to make sense of the connection and mechanics behind it. Would really suck to find out the hard way that disconnecting a certain wire would trigger an alarm, after all.
"I think you shouldn't touch the red wire," Phantom lightly mused. "Pretty sure that's a power, and if you turn it off it'll be bad news."
"Mmm, yeah," Valerie agreed. "I think I can just unscrew this though, and we should just be careful to not slip the wires off."
Phantom nodded, and he waited patiently as she did just so. After twenty minutes of careful disconnecting, Phantom had two hands free, and he flexed his hands with a happy sigh.
"God, that just feels so much better," he told her. He motioned for her to hand him the screwdriver. "Here, I'll do yours." Valerie shook her head.
"I can't leave. I won't say anything if you escape, but they know my identity."
Phantom frowned.
"I'm not leaving you here. Come on, you saw your map. We can destroy their power. We can destroy this entire building," he began, only for Valerie to cut him off.
"And do more destruction? Is that all you think about?" she snapped. "You're safe. They know my identity. You want me to get more charges or something? I can't risk it. I'll just stay here. They'll figure out soon enough that I'm fully human." A full human who apparently had mixed logic as to whether or not they could use their ghost hunting suit. If she was fully human, she could summon those weapons, right? Unless it was specifically preventing any ghost weapon, regardless of the user, use it.
"Red, I don't think you understand," Phantom told her. "They're not going to go easy on you. Even if you prove you're human, they're not going to believe you. You heard them. They already denied you contact to the outside world."
That reminder sent a chill down her spine.
"Then tell my dad," she told him. Phantom stared at her. He began to unzip his suit, and she instantly began to look away. "Dude, what the hell?"
"Valerie, look at me," he demanded.
"You're naked!" she protested.
"I'm not naked, just look."
She decided to humor him with the intention of taking a quick peek. But when she saw him, she felt a cold sweat hit her. Phantom had only zipped enough to expose his chest, and there was a distinctive Y-patterned scar on his chest that stood out against the other scars.
"This is what happened last time I was trapped here. I'm not going to leave you alone here," he stated. He suddenly looked away, and he quickly zipped his suit back up. "There's no way in hell I'm going to risk this happening to you. Red, you need to come with me."
That urgent gut feeling of needing to go finally crashed into her. The GIW would never believe her. Not just because of stubbornness, but...Valerie herself wasn't even sure anymore.
She swallowed dryly, and she nodded. Her right wrist was offered to him.
"Do you know what to do?" she asked. Phantom scowled.
"I just watched you do it," he reminded her. She rolled her eyes, but held her wrist up for him, and a half hour later, she too, was free.
She wasn't sure if she was more concerned or relieved to instantly feel that distinctive rush of power back. The second Phantom removed her bracelet, she knew that she could summon any of her ghost weapons now at her fingertips. But she could still summon her suit regardless, and activate her GPS abilities. Was this normal? Valerie had no clue what this meant anymore.
"So, next step, I think we can escape through here."
Valerie looked up to see Phantom was now floating by the vent at the top of their cell. He was already using her screwdriver to undo the vent cover. She pulled her map back up on her forearm, glancing at it and studying it.
"I'm pretty sure the vent will go straight to that electric room," she told him.
"Oh, now you're finally seeing the big picture?" Phantom lightly teased, glancing over his shoulder as he popped the vent cover off. She nodded at him, but didn't crack a smile.
"...You and Dani may look just alike, but I never want you two to have matching scars," she said. Phantom's smile dropped, and he nodded in agreement.
He placed the vent covering on the top bunk, handing Valerie back her screwdriver. She slipped it back in it's pouch.
"Here, I'll give you a boost up," Phantom offered, pressing his hands together. She nodded, stepping a foot onto his hand. With ease, Phantom pushed her up, and she grabbed onto the vent, pulling herself in. It was surprisingly fairly roomy yet not, and she managed to get comfortable on her stomach, pulling her map back up.
"Ready to commit several federal crimes?" Phantom's voice half joked. She looked behind her the best she could to see the ghost right behind her. She snorted in amusement.
"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied. "Just follow me. It's time to give these idiots hell."
And hell they did. Who knew that the Guys in Whites headquarters could cause such a colorful explosion.
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“No boys”
Request: @soytrash
Hey beautiful 🤍 how about a cute little moment between reader and Logan with Laura regarding a crush 🥺And Logan is just overprotective, but prior to Laura coming home from school and talking about a crush, Logan is trying to get some from reader 🥵 please and thank you hun let me know if that’s okay or not 🥰 (maybe with the baby from your family series too) sorry if it’s too much I love your writing 🥺🤍
Warnings: Smut, swearing (if you squint).
A/n: Do you guys picture yourself when reading fanfiction? Cause I do and don’t haha. Typically when I read/write for Logan I picture myself as Scarlett Johansson in Match Point and The Island lol. I’d love to hear about you guys, so just let me know!
Reader is written as under 30 y/o, if you are older, just change the number :)
I hope this is good enough (I’m not really that confident in this one). Let me know if you have any constructive criticism.
[The Howlett Family series]
It was a particularly warm day in the Canadian Rockies, warm enough to open a few windows and have the cozy log house smelling of the fresh outdoor air. the window above the sink that you were currently standing at let a breeze into the house that tickled you just enough to have your body bear a small chill.
As you rinsed one of the bowls you had used this morning to prepare breakfast, your hips swayed side to side in a fluid manor that matched the rhythm of the song that lightly boomed out of the speaker which sat by the fruit bowl on the counter. The reason behind the low volume was that Logan was currently trying to put your youngest daughter down for her daily afternoon nap. If the wails and grumbling coming from the baby monitor was any indication, it wasn't going very well.
You dried off your hands and picked up the monitor, holding down on the button that allowed your voice to come through on the other end.
“You need some help?”
“We’re fine. I just cant find her goddamn pacifier.”
“Did you check on the shelf by her changing table?” you spoke again.
Suddenly the crying stops and you smile knowing he found it.
He lets out a quiet “Thanks.”
You set the monitor back down and go back the the half a dozen dishes left in the sink.
“Kid’s quite the screamer hm?” you announce as Logan walks out from the hallway a few minutes later.
“Yeah she is, I think she got it from her mother.” he jokes walking around the island to be closer to you.
You let out a breathy gasp like-laugh.
“Oh really?” you say in an exaggerated tone, humor still consuming it.
“Mhm, and speaking of screaming...” he places his hands on your waist and squeezes a bit.
“We can’t baby, Laura's gunna be home in like ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes is enough time. I can’t help it, you just look so sexy--”
Before he can finish you interrupt.
“Logan, you know damn well ten minutes isn't enough time.”
“I just need something [Y/N].” he says as his hands find your breasts and you let out a small moan, abandoning the dish towel and griping the counter.
He kisses your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft flesh, which brings forth light breathy moans from your mouth.
You turn your head to kiss him and you can feel yourself throb a bit when your lips meet. his hands dip into your top and pull your breast out of their confines, teasing your nipples with his fingers.
He continues to grope and kiss you as his dominant hand makes its way into your pants.
You moan loudly into his mouth as the pad of his middle finger circles your clit a few times.
His lips separate from yours so he can speak.
“Hmm, You like that?” he says in his breathy and gruff voice.
You can’t seem to make out any words, so instead you offer an almost whiny sounding “Mhm.” as his fingers inch lower.
You gasp, throwing your head back onto his shoulder, your right hand coming up to hold the back of his neck, as his middle and ring fingers enter your tight lubricated hole.His fingers curling in the classic “come hither” position, making you squeeze around his digits.
Even after all of the time you had spent with Logan, your body still didn't know how to handle the pleasure, that being evident in the way that your back arched and you sporadically bucked your hips back into his crotch with every jolt of pleasure that you felt.
Your moans were absolutely erotic as he seemed to push further into you, finding that spot that did in fact make you scream.
And the explicit squelching noises were making you even more desperate as he fucks you with his fingers.
As you let out another slew of loud moans, you feel his hand come up to cover your mouth.
“As much as I love hearing those pretty noises you make, baby, you gotta be quiet.”
Your eyes rolled back and fluttered shut at his his words and the vibrations from your moans bouncing against his cupped hand.
His thumb starts to circle your clit in the same rhythm that his fingers were moving in.
God, you were so done for.
He releases his hand from over your mouth before he asks:
“You gunna cum?”
“Mhmm” you let out in high pitched whine.
“Ouh! Don’t stop.” you pleaded as that marvelous feeling started to take over.
“That’s right baby, jus like that.” he speaks, egging you on until your mouth falls open and your eyes squeeze shut, your orgasmic euphoria taking over.
Eventually your body comes back down to earth.
“Look at that, you got three minutes to spare.” he coos in a triumphant tone.
Your breath is heavy and you whimper slightly when he pulls his fingers out of you.
You glance over to the built in clock in the stove before readjusting yourself and catching your breath.
Turning around, you plant your hands on the space where his shoulders and neck connect, and kiss him. Your tongues danced together sensually until you pulled away.
“I wish I could return the favor...” you hum and he kisses you again.
“You will later.” he says as the screeching of the school bus tires alerts you of Laura’s homecoming.
You look up at him and bite your lip, giving him a sensual smile as you nod.
You separate from him as you hear the front door open, going over to greet Laura.
“Hey honey, how was school?”
You could hear Logan in the kitchen, chuckling at your total change in demeanor.
You turn slightly to roll your eyes at him, but the small amused smirk on your face gives you away.
You turn back to your daughter as she answers you while getting her homework and lunchbox out of her backpack.
“It was alright. We got to watch a movie in my english class, so that was nice.”
You follow her to the kitchen where she sits at one of the bar stools at the dark wood island, slapping her purple folder and pencil onto the table.
You noticed something off with the young mutant, like she wasn’t telling you something.
When she looked up to see you and Logan analyzing her, she knew she would have to put on a better performance if she wanted to keep her secret. Fortunately for you, she wasn’t feeling up for a challenge today. And it’s not that she wanted to hide what her friends had told her was called a “crush”, but she knew how her parents would probably react.
“Laura, is there something you need to tell us?” Logan spoke.
“Sweetheart, you know you can tell us anything, right?” you squeeze her shoulder in a loving manor.
She nods, taking in a breath before turning to you and muttering: No puedes decírselo a papá... (You can’t tell daddy...)
Hearing this concerned you. Laura and Logan had a pretty open relationship, despite their constant bickering.
Your eyes quickly flick over to Logan, who was watching you and Laura, his arms crossed while he leans against the kitchen counter.
“Que es Laura?”
Logan was accustom to yours and Laura’s more private conversations you had in spanish. He wasn't really a fan, only because when they would occur, he felt left out. But, he figured this must be important and waited patiently before asking you what she had just said about him.
“Hay un chico en mi clase que está enamorado de mí.” (There is this boy in my class who is in love with me). Her voice is quiet, but her tone sounds exasperated.
Logan's brows furrowed when he heard “un chico”. He didn't know much spanish, but he did know that un chico meant a boy, and he did not like the sound of that.
You snort, your hand quickly flying up to cover your mouth before you speak.
“Aww Laura!”
A shy grin spreads across her face.
“What did she say?” Logan speaks up
You bite your lip, trying to hold in your small bit of laughter. You look over at Laura and can tell that, although she is nervous for what her fathers reaction may be, it would be best to tell him about her dilemma.
“Laura has a not so secret admirer.”
“He wrote me a note.” she says, grabbing a crinkled white paper from her pocket.
You could tell by her humorous tone that she found the situation comical, and didn't seem to reciprocate the feelings.
Logan on the other hand had immediately gone into full protective father mode, snatching the note from her hand, and reading over it to make sure nothing obscene had been written/drawn on it.
After he is finished looking at it he crumples it up and puts it in the garbage.
“No boys until you are 30.”
“Logan don’t be ridiculous.” you say, walking over to fish the note out of the can.
“I am not being ridiculous.” he scoffs, incredulously.
“In fact, I think I’m being a bit lenient. 30 years old is a perfectly reasonable age to start being romantic with someone.” he says, and now it was your turn to scoff as you hand the paper to Laura.
She makes a disgusted face and holds the very corner with her pointer finger and thumb. You couldn't tell if it was because it had been in the trash, or because of it’s contents.
You turn back to face Logan and cross your arms.
“You do realize that we’ve had a baby together and I’m not yet 30, right?”
He retracts slightly, and grumbles:
“That’s different.”
“Uh-huh” you reply sarcastically.
“The feelings are not mutual by the way.” Laura finally speaks up. Deciding to clear the air before an argument started brewing.
“I don’t have a crush on him.”
“That’s my girl.” Logan says, and you chuckle.
“That conversation is not finished by the way.” you say while you walk over to the pantry to get Laura a snack, Logan grimaces, thinking of the conversation that would come later.
“Daddy?”
“Hmm?”
“How did you and Mama end up together?”
“Uhh, well...” he starts, glancing up at you, not sure if it was the right time to share.
Yours and Logan’s story was a bit controversial. The reason being that you were only 19 when you first “got together”, and Logan was your ex-teacher. And it wasn't exactly the most orthodox either. Instead of the typical flowers and a dinner date, it was more like neither of you could sleep one night, and one thing led to another, which led to you waking up in his arms in the morning. You had always had romantic feelings towards The Wolverine. Though they were never truly discussed, you both knew they were there, and you knew they were unbreakable. So, after that night, you two became exclusive.
“We met at Charles’ school, you know that.” you speak, setting the packet of crackers in front of the pre-teen, and walking over to grab an apple to cut up for her.
Laura sighs, knowing that she probably wouldn't get the answer she was looking for if you weren't willing to share it.
She rips open the wrapper, glaring at Logan when he steals a cracker from her.
“Well, how did you know you had a crush on each other?”
You chuckle lightly as the knife cuts into the ripe and scarlet colored fruit.
“We didn’t exactly have a crush on each other, Laura.” Logan starts, but a dry cough finishes the sentence.
You look up at him, asking if he was alright with your eyes.
He gives you a blunt nod as he lets out a deep breath.
You notice your daughters furrowed brow as she munches on the biscuit, and elaborate on Logan’s previous statement.
“Your father and I’s relationship is a bit complicated and unconventional, Laura. What he was saying was that we have and had a connection on a level so much more than a crush.”
She nods and pops another cracker in her mouth.
“But,” the crisp sound of the apple interrupts you slightly.
“usually when you have a crush on someone, you get the feelings of butterflies in your stomach whenever you see or think about that person. You smile when they smile, and laugh when they laugh. You want to be around them all the time, and you try to get their attention. You sometimes get nervous, and jealous of others that are close to them.”
You place the apple slices on a plate and slide it over to her, cleaning up the slight mess you had made and you glance over at her.
Laura sat starring at the plate as she thought of all of her symptoms you had just listed.
“Why were you asking?” Logan asks, his voice stern and suspicious.
She looks up, once again nervous.
You smile, getting an inkling as to where this is going.
“Well, there’s this-”
“No Laura. No boys, remember?” Logan interrupts, his custodial protectiveness resurfacing.
“It’s not a boy.” she mutters.
Logan blinks a few times, looking over to your grinning face.
“It’s a girl?” he asks, making sure that he wasn’t getting mixed up at all.
Laura looks up from the oxidizing apples a second time and nods.
“Well,” he leans back in his seat, breathing out.
“Tell me ‘bout her.”
She grins and you smile back, lovingly.
And then she doesn’t stop talking about the girl with the dark umber skin and curly caramel highlights until you have to remind her to eat her apple slices.
#old man logan#wolverine#old man logan imagine#old man logan x reader#old man logan imagines#logan howlett#old man logan smut#Smut#laura howlett#laura kinney#logan 2017#wolverine x reader#logan howlett smut#wolverine smut#wolverine imagine#wolverine imagines#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x reader
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WIPWed: Festering Folder Edition: Legally Blonde AU
@mintaka14 asked about the Legally Blonde AU, which the Disco witnessed the birth of and was briefly mentioned in the notes for "Move Like Jagged". So. Yeah. This is the latest crack AU I've been working on. 😂
See, for my last project for those unit classes I had to take for work, I was talking about different reasons conflict can pop up in your kitchen and how to deal with them. And one of the ways to deal with conflict is by staying positive - you can't control what other people do/what happens, but you can control how you react to it. And that got "Positive" from the Legally Blonde musical in my head, which got me thinking who would be who in a LB AU, and...it all just ran away from me so hard. We have a Plunny Adoption channel in the Disco, and I dropped it there because I did not want another WIP, and the next thing I knew I was 1700 words into the Bend & Snap scene and no one else had adopted the plunny come on guys. 😂
So. Yeah. This is happening. I'm maybe a third of the way through the outline with about three scenes fully written out. 😂
The setup: Marinette is an aspiring fashion designer in her senior year at UCLA. Her life is all set up: she's going to graduate and marry her perfect boyfriend Adrien Agreste, who's on his way to becoming a lawyer and future president of the United States. Everything's perfect until he suddenly dumps her, claiming he needs someone more serious. He moves back out East to start at Harvard in the fall, where he's now dating childhood friend and fellow Snobby Harvard Girl Kagami Tsurugi. Marinette realizes that if she's gonna get her man back, she's got to be someone serious, too - someone lawerly! Someone who wears black when nobody's dead! So Marinette follows him out to Harvard, where she's...let's face it. The laughing stock of the school. But with a little determination (and the help of her super sweet TA Luka Couffaine, who's convinced she's not as Dumb as the others paint her) she's going to show everyone she belongs there - and win her Adrien back in the process!
So Marinette's Elle, Adrien is Warner, Kagami is Vivian, and Luka is Emmett. I'm putting Gabriel as Callahan, with the idea that part of the pressure on Adrien is that his father is this super successful lawyer & professor at Harvard who's expecting him to follow in his footsteps. (Also there's a line in the finale of the musical that says "Warner quit / Says he makes more modeling anyhow!", so while he's at UCLA I have Adrien modeling on the side and he totally goes back to it. 😂) Mylène is Paulette and Ivan is Kyle (the UPS guy). Rose and Alya are Marinette's Delta Nu sisters/best friends, and Juleka is still Luka's sister; Rose and Alya come out and the end to cheer Marinette on at the final trial, where Rose and Juleka meet.
Jagged is Brooke. He's being accused of murdering Bob Roth, his former label owner. He's innocent, but he refuses to give Gabriel his alibi (he was...getting...botox). He was Marinette's neighbor back in LA, and she designed his favorite leather jacket - so he freaks when Marinette walks in with his Estranged Son as part of his legal team. Luka and Jagged have a...tenuous relationship. Jagged is Luka's father, and Luka used to love music/want to be a rocker. He toured with Jagged for a year or two when he was younger as his opening act, but it really disillusioned Luka to the Music Scene. So he ended up pursuing law (thinking he could get into the legal side of things, and Anarka's always in and out of jail anyway so she'll need a good lawyer?), and finds out he's good at it & really enjoys it? It wasn't the career he thought he'd have, but he's happy.
I'm still kicking stuff around & writing the outline, but that's the bare-bones. 😂 And as much as I love the LB movie, the musical is one of my favorites. There's...guh ok I'm not gonna start gushing on how perfect the musical is bc we'll be here all day. 😂 But it is absolutely perfect, and this AU is going to be a blend of the movie and the musical.
Case in point: the song "Take It Like A Man", where Elle repays Emmett by giving him a makeover. It's the scene where Emmett realizes he's fallen in love with Elle and absolutely adorable ("God, I love shopping for guys - watching them change right before my eyes!" "...stop watching me change.").
As for a scene y'all haven't seen yet...I think you've seen a handful of sentences from this one? It's all new for Tumblr, but I think I shared a few sentences on the Disco. 😂
“Hey, Luka, what are you doing tonight?”
Luka looked up, his eyebrows lifting at the smile Marinette was giving him. Her chin was propped in her hand, her eyes looking over him like…well, a little like she was undressing him, if he was honest, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.
“Er…prepping for tomorrow?” he hazarded. “Big day in court? Opening statements? Have to make sure we’re ready so my dad doesn’t swing.”
She rolled her eyes, and then she rolled her chair over to his. He jumped when she laid her hands over his.
“You’re ready,” she said. She squeezed his hand, and he swallowed thickly as she continued to look at him like that. Why did his throat suddenly feel so dry? “Can we go somewhere? I…I want to do something. To thank you. For…everything, really. Please?”
“You don’t need to thank me, Marinette,” he said, wondering what exactly she had in mind. Maybe dinner? He was getting kind of hungry, and he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t mind spending more time with her away from the law books…
“I do, though, Luka,” she said earnestly, squeezing his hand again. “You…you’re the only one who’s believed in me this entire time. You’ve done so much to help me, and…I just wanted to do something for you, too.” She took his hand and held it to her chest, pouting her lips and batting her eyes at him, and when had the heat kicked in? It was almost May – it shouldn’t be so hot in the old, draft library! “Please?”
“I…um…ok?” he finally squawked out. He cleared his throat when she hit him full-force with her mega-watt smile, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt as she squeezed his hand tighter. She gave an excited little squeal-giggle-bounce that had him smiling fondly. “What…what did you have in mind?”
“Well,” she said, releasing his hand and turning towards the table. She began gathering the files they’d scattered over the surface, tidying up. “You know I used to want to be a designer – you’ve heard Jagged go off about that coat.”
“His little frock star,” Luka snickered, and she gave him an exasperated little smile.
“If I had the time, I’d love to design you something,” she said, tapping the folders against the table to straighten them, She turned to him, hands on her hips. “But given we need you ready by tomorrow, that’s not possible. So, Luka Couffaine, I am going to give you…a makeover.”
That…was definitely not what he’d been expecting.
“Er…thanks?” he asked, because by the little hitch in his voice he was definitely asking, because he was definitely confused. A…makeover? But…why? Her expression fell a little, and he coughed as he reached up to loosen his tie. “I mean…it’s just…I didn’t think I needed one?”
And I was kind of hoping you’d suggest dinner?
“Luka,” she sighed, still exasperated. She grabbed his hands and hauled him to his feet before dragging him over to the fireplace. She gestured to the mirror sitting above the mantle, where he could clearly see his…ok, yeah, he looked a little disheveled, but they’d been in the library all day! He was expected to look rumpled! “Look at yourself.”
“I am,” he said, trying not to sound offended. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, trying (unsuccessfully) to even out the wrinkles in his shirt. He tried to ignore the shiver that wanted to race up his spine at her touch. Focus, Couffaine, he thought. She sighed, turning him towards her, eyeing his clothes rather critically.
“Luka, you know I adore you,” she said, and he tried to ignore the way that made his stomach flutter, “but look at you. This is a high-profile, celebrity case. It’s going to be televised, and you’re going to show up looking like your only suit came from a Goodwill?”
“Hey,” he protested, weakly. He could feel the heat rising on his cheeks again. He looked at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck. “I have two suits, thank you very much, and only one came from Goodwill.”
He glanced up at her to find she had lifted one of those perfectly sculpted brows at him, and he grinned sheepishly before adding: “…the other came from Salvation Army.”
“Luka!” she laughed, squeezing his arms, and his grin warmed into a smile. He liked making her laugh like that. He… “That’s my point, you dork!”
Her laughter petered off, and she started fiddling with his tie. He glanced down at his outfit and tried to see her point, but he honestly thought he looked fine? Rumpled, sure, but that wasn’t anything a good tumble in the dryer or some ironing couldn’t fix. The gray slacks weren’t bad, and the white dress shirt with the thin, dark blue check matched his dark blue tie. Sure, his shoes were a little scuffed, but no one was going to be looking at his shoes. Marinette sighed again, and he looked back up at her.
“Luka, do you remember what I told you I did? Back at UCLA?” she asked. He nodded.
“You had a 4.0 in fashion merchandising,” he said, making her smile. “You wanted to design clothes.”
“So let’s just say this is something I’m actually good at,” she teased, and he frowned as he reached up to lay a hand over one of hers. He squeezed, making her look up at him.
“Hey…you’re good at this, Marinette,” he said. Her smile said she didn’t believe him, so he squeezed her hand tighter. “I mean it, Marinette. I may have helped you study, but all of this was you. You got Agreste’s internship all on your own. You went from the bottom to top of your class on your own. You put the work in, Marinette. You’re so incredibly smart, and you’ve got this…this…gift. You see things others don’t. You aregood at this.”
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for Marinette to throw herself at him in a bone-crushing hug. He stood there for a moment, dazed, but before he could move or think or respond she was already pulling away and wiping at misty eyes. She smiled up at him, and he wondered if it would be ok if he hugged her again. He kind of felt cheated out of the last one.
“Thank you, Luka,” she said, shaking her head to clear it. “Ugh, ok, but seriously! This is what I was originally good at – so let me shine, ok? Look. You’re good at this, too. You’re such a talented lawyer, and if Agreste gives you half the chance you’re going to blow them away in court – but no one’s going to be thinking about how brilliant you are if you show up looking like a bum. Luka, it’s…it’s me showing up to a costume party dressed like a bunny!”
He blinked at her, remembering all too well that night he’d bumped into her at the bookstore and she was dressed in nothing more than a one piece, bunny ears, and tail.
“The look is half the fight,” she said, taking his hands in her own. “Don’t give them a reason to judge you just because your shoes are old. Please? Let me buy you a suit. Let me do this for you, Luka.”
He still didn’t get it – not really, if he was perfectly honest – but when she looked at him like that…
“…ok,” he said, and the smile and second hug she gave him made it all worth it.
#miraculous ladybug#luka couffaine#marinette dupain-cheng#lukanette#endgame lukanette#lukanette endgame#wip wednesday#wip wendesday: festering folder edition#legally blonde au#lukanette legally blonde au#y'all know how this story ends#it may get an adrienette tag#but they're never endgame round here#I don't know if you've noticed before#but each time adrien walks through the door#your IQ drops down to 40#maybe less#I've been smiling and sweet an thoroughly beaten blowing my chance#let's not chase 'em away let's face 'em and say#HEY PUNK LET'S DANCE#I'm so excited for this one#mintaka14
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Starker High School AU Pt. 6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)
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tw: general howard stark warning
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There is a buzzing by his ear.
At first, Tony doesn’t really notice it, waking up in short increments before being pulled back under. But he keeps waking, unsure what keeps tugging him out of his dreams, hand flapping around his face as he tries to stop the incessant ringing.
“Blergh,” he mumbles into his pillow.
Batting his hand around to quell the source of annoyance, he comes to grip his phone, squinting as it lights up inches away from his face and vibrates against his palm. For a second he thinks it’s his alarm, but then he remembers that he didn’t set one. It’s a succession of text notifications cascading down his screen that alerts him out of the slope of slumber with a start.
The only time his phone goes off like this is an emergency. The first thing he registers is that it’s only eight-minutes after seven. He blinks, sight clearing from the sleep wedged in his eye as he reads the flurry of still-incoming texts.
> so thanks for last night > yknow > for the ride > i mean > you know what i mean > anyway > so that folder i gave you had my BIO notes, not econ > im such a doofus > i need them back > don’t bother looking at them lol > can we meet up?
Tony groans, eyelids heavy as anvils. Jesus christ. He didn’t get home until four after dropping this guy off and he’s already up and bothering him? What gives?
Exhausted and annoyed, he tucks his phone under his pillow and sets it on do-not-disturb for extra measure. There ain’t no way he’s getting up at seven on a Saturday for fucking class notes. Prick.
In his opinion, he’s filled his quote of good deeds for the month and he doesn’t need to be up for another few hours. Whatever it is, he thinks, snuggling into his pillow, he’s sure it can wait.
---
The next time he wakes it’s just after nine. There’s a gap in his curtains allowing a sharp shard of sunlight into the room where it directly pierces into his eyelids.
He groans tiredly into the drool patch on his pillow, willing sleep to come back to him, turning on his other side, gripping the edges of the quilt and tightening it around himself until he is firmly cocooned within it. It’s nice and warm, and sleep is such a rare commodity to him so it’s novel to bask in its dregs. But there isn’t any more sleep to come he’s quick to realize, giving up after a few minutes and blinking up at the ceiling.
Nine is practically six. It’s criminal to be up this early.
There’s an unusual flurry of texts on his phone, some from Rhodey, but most of them are from Parker, an endless ladder of increasing franticness.
Tony tosses his phone to the end of his bed carelessly.
It’s been literally less than twelve hours since he’s had to deal with the shithead. Surely whatever was lodged up his ass couldn’t possibly be as important as Tony ignoring him.
Swinging his legs off the bed, he stands and stretches his arms up high, fingers curling. The stretch feels good and he takes a quick sniff of his armpits to gauge if he can forego a shower for the third day in a row.
The stench is wicked. It’s possible that he’s overdue.
He strips off as he heads towards the adjacent bathroom, naked and nursing a semi.
He can’t help but shudder as his back meets the cold tiles, the intuitive shower head following his body with a mechanical whir, miscalculating its aim and spraying him in the face.
Ah. That will need to be recalibrated, he notes.
But, he can’t say he really minds, tolerating the spray, even as it hits his mouth like a fire hose. He ducks his head to wet his hair, reaching blindly for the touchpad to dial down the pressure. Once the water is to his liking he reaches down to take himself in hand, leisurely stroking himself.
It’s just a perfunctory part of his morning ritual; he doesn’t really have anyone in mind as he brings himself to full hardness, just the fleeting memory of lips around his cock, the next of a well rounded ass, not feeling particularly creative.
Okay, so maybe he pictures some big, brown eyes and dark hair he can run his fingers through. And maybe he goes off like a rocket. That’s his business.
Anyway, once he’s out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he inspects his appearance in the mirror. The bruises on his face are still pretty gruesome, deep purple and beginning to yellow around the edges. The cut on his lip seems to be well and truly scabby.
Turning to the side, Tony takes observation of his overall torso region; his stomach is not as defined as he’d like it to be - probably due to his affinity for carbs and sweets, if he’s honest. Between a few fingers he can pinch the skin and pull it a little -- and look, he’s a bit soft around the middle, but he lifts, alright. Maybe he isn’t exactly steel cut like the dudebros on the football team who have made being ripped their life mission, but he has musculature under the adipose.
Is he a little self-conscious about it? Sure. Is he worried about it enough to give up garlic bread and cronuts? No. Especially when he spots a new chest hair nestled comfortably between his pecs.
Probably a bit too proud of himself because of a singular piece of hair, Tony gets dressed in a pair of jeans that have seen better days, speckled with singe marks and thinning at the knees and a singlet, slinging on his leather jacket for the finishing touch.
He almost forgets the bot.
“Look at you,” he says, to the mangled mess of metal on his desk. Scooping the injured, beeping bot Tony stuffs it into his backpack. “Come here, darling. Shh, you’re okay.”
Peering both ways out of the hall to ensure the coast is clear, he quickly descends the stairs, shushing the bot the whole way.
On the ground floor, he pauses when he hears voices coming from his father’s office. It takes a second to recognise the voices, his father and Stane arguing over one another, loudly, then softly. He tries to listen in, catching somewhat audible hisses about the company finance officer.
Careful to avoid the floorboards that squeak he tiptoes to the kitchen to pocket a few muesli bars and a water bottle from the fridge.
The voices get progressively louder as he sneaks to the front door, silently saluting their maid as he passes. She waves back at him, offering a sympathetic smile as he goes out the door.
His heart pounds as he reaches his car, parked around the corner street.
“Alright, baby,” he grins, revving the engine. “Let’s go.”
---
“The fuck?”
It’s hard to be sure, but perhaps Rhodey doesn’t expect Tony’s unannounced arrival at his front door. Not if the furious scowl and bunny slippers on his feet are anything to go by.
Nonetheless, he slips past the front door, welcoming himself into his friends home, despite the exasperated outcry of for fucks sake Tony, it’s Saturday and it’s not even noon, can’t you call ahead?
No, he can’t call. Well, actually, he reconsiders, heading down the hall to the basement, his friends footsteps echoing behind him, he probably could, but it wouldn’t make anyone less mad at him, so what’s the point?
Besides, judging by the empty driveway and barren living room, Rhodey’s family is already out, he’s not sure what the issue is.
“The issue is I am tired, man,” his friend complains, following him down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”
“Me too, honeybear, freakin’ exhausted,” Tony mutters, skipping down the stairs. “Go back to bed. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”
“Oh sure, and let you solder your fingers together again. Nah. Not taking the fall for that.”
“I’m not going to solder my fingers together. I’m a pro.”
“Unless you need me to remind you of last summer,” Rhodey takes a seat at the workbench, “I suggest you shut up.”
“You’re rude, you know that?” Tony asks, retrieving the bot from his backpack and setting it upon the bench. “I’ll have you know that I’ve learned since then.”
“And yet you still refuse to wear gloves,” his friend sighs, settling heavily upon the adjacent chair. There’s a comfortable quiet between them while Tony works, carefully settling all the pieces onto the table, moving each with care.
It’s hard to miss the weight of observation on the back of his neck, but he lets his friend drink his fill before he’s ready to speak.
“You fuck up something?” He points to the bot.
Tony shakes his head, pressing the solder into the circuit board. “No. Well, yes. The coding is perfect, as usual, but this idiot isn’t any smarter than a Roomba. He’s meant to be smarter.”
“So?
“He is smarter. I dunno, sometimes he messes up,” Tony mumbles, reaching blindly for the bent-nose pliers before Rhodey places it in his hand. “He’s not bad, just dumb. It’s not his fault.”
“And again, what happened? Did you run him over?”
“No, the old man got sick of me playing with ‘toys’. Dumb-dumb here met the wall in a very dramatic fashion. It was an Oscar-worthy performance.”
There’s a sigh from behind him.
“Does that explain your face?”
Tony glances behind him and smirks.
“You mean my dashing good looks?”
“Tony.”
“Honestly? I got into a fight with a feral racoon that ran off with some old lady’s purse. It nearly cost me an eye, but I saved the day. She called me a hero, gave me some stale crackers from her purse and then gave me her number.”
“Tony.”
“Fine. I was skateboarding. I was in the middle of executing a super complicated kickflip but lost control when an enlarged gutter rat scurried in front of me. I flew headfirst into the gravel. Very embarrassing. That work?”
“Tony.”
“Look, just leave it will ya? God, you’re like a nagging wife. Pick whichever story makes you feel all nice and fuzzy inside.”
Rhodey is suddenly before him, waving something in his face. “Your phone, jackass. Your better half is calling?”
Huh?
Tony blinks, gently setting down the pliers and the chip he’d removed, taking his phone. It vibrates, Your Better Half flashing across the screen.
“Parker, ugh.”
He really should have changed the contact name by now, he thinks, swiping to answer.
“Alcoholics Anonymous,” Tony answers by way of greeting. “How may I direct your call?”
“Ha ha, very funny, asshole. So you are awake. I’ve been trying to contact you all morning.”
“I know. I’m beginning to think you actually might have separation issues,” Tony says. “I just got rid of you like eight hours ago.”
“I’m calling about the folder. Didn’t you read my texts?“
“Oh, I read them,” Tony settles back on the stool and continues to work on the main circuit. “See, I was just ignoring you. Hoping you’d take the hint, but I forget subtlety is lost on you.”
“Look, I need my notes. Can we meet up?”
“Right, for Bio,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Can’t it wait until Monday?”
“No. I, uh -- I have a test first period. I need to study for it.”
“Uh-huh. Just remember, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. You’ll be fine.”
“I take AP Bio, asswipe, I’m aware of that. Can I just get it back, please?”
“You take AP Bio? Was that an admin error or something?” he asks, holding the chip he’d retrieved earlier up to the light to inspect for any damage.
It looks to be ok. The damage to the bot overall seems to be mostly cosmetic, couple of scratches, a few dents. Nothing that a few replacement panels wont fix. Whatever he hasn’t already got stored here Rhodey will surely have spare parts, it’ll be fine. God, what would he do if his friend didn’t lovingly tolerate Tony using his space for storage and barging in whenever he lucks. It’s lucky Rhode’s parents are so chill though, unlike his own. He may be a hot-head but he’s practically a saint compared to -
“ - hello? Are you still there? I can hear you breathing.”
Tony blinks. “Right. Your notes. Look, I’m kinda busy. I have a life outside of you and I don’t actually care about your academic integrity, so, you’re gonna have to wait.”
“For how long?”
“I’ll drop them off this evening, like six-ish. Hey, maybe we could do that interview with May if she’ll be around.”
“...I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”
“C’mon, I already told you I’m not actually hot for your aunt. I’ll be professional.”
Rhodey shoots him a bewildered look.
“That’s not what -- look, whatever. Just don’t be late okay. I have a life outside of you too.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. I’ll try and not get in the way of your weekend plans of crying while you masturbate.”
“I literally hate you.”
“And yet you aren’t denying the crying. Anyway, I have to go now, try to clean yourself up before I get there. See you at six, bubby,” he hangs up, cracking his neck before refocusing on his mangled creation. “Now where were we?”
“What the fuck.”
Tony pauses, pliers in hand. There is a particular expression on Rhodey’s face erring on the side of confused and haunted.
“What?”
“’Bubby’?”
“Don’t say it like that - it’s like an inside thing. Don’t repeat it to him, alright, he’ll get pissy. And then I’ll get pissy.”
“You know it’s just a project, right? You two aren’t actually married.”
“Thank god. Could you imagine being married to that guy?” Tony shudders. “Scary.”
“Two weeks ago you said he was the bane of your existence. Now you have ‘inside things’ with him? You saw him last night?”
He sighs, shoulders dropping. Yeah, he doesn’t really have a good explanation for any of that.
The thing about himself, Tony’s found over time and trial, is that he really, really likes to press buttons. He likes to test variables, wants to see what would happen if he did something he wasn’t supposed to, and map out the world as it occurs in motion around him. Curiosity means he likes to test the parameters, to see what can yield, what will bite back.
More often than not that kind of impulsive brand of curiosity has gotten him in some sort of trouble. Turns out not everything and everyone appreciates being tested - and many things like to lash out when pressed.
Parker, Tony has found, is somebody that doesn’t yield or bite. If Tony was a betting man he’d have placed his money on the boy being more of a yielding type - but what he does is he presses buttons just as much as Tony does, buttons he didn’t even know he had to be pressed.
And that very much interests Tony.
He just doesn’t know what to do with that information, except to keep pressing.
“I’ll explain later,” Tony promises, mentally crossing his fingers. “In the meantime, can we forget about Parker and focus on my broken baby here?”
Rhodey relents, but Tony knows that look in his eye. He’ll be hearing about it later and at the most inconvenient time. And he’s gonna tell Pepper.
Wonderful.
He really should change Peter’s contact name in his phone.
---
By the time he leaves the Rhodes residence and heads to his next destination, his robot is in somewhat in working order again. It remains fairly immobile though, just until Tony can replace the damaged infrared and touch sensor. It clicks its metal claws sadly towards Tony in the passenger seat as he drives.
It’s a Roy Orbison kind of day, so the music is loud and the guitar is heavy as he makes the drive to Harlem.
And if Tony frees a hand to pat the bot on its’ metal head every so often, that’s his business.
When he reaches the other side of the city he parks in his usual space at a nearby lot and contemplates whether or not he should leave the malfunctioning bot in his car for the sake of being professional. It clicks at his jacket, weakly grasping the material as if on a plea - and damn, Tony knows the thing isn’t actually sentient but what kind of asshole would he be if he left it here for the day.
Heart squeezing with sympathy, Tony delicately places him in the backpack, leaving the zip partially open for ‘air’.
Next, snacks.
While he’s retrieving a pack (or two) of Reeses, he comes across Parker’s folder that he’d stashed there last night. Their conversation from earlier returns to the forefront of his mind.
Look, Parker might not be the knuckle-dragging, monosyllabic dumbass Tony initially suspected that he was, and yeah he was savvy as demonstrated during their trip to the rental market - and yeah, definitely smarter than his social circle would suggest, and is absolutely and a source of constant surprise to Tony - but is he AP Bio - or AP anything material?
Time to find out.
The first thing that Tony notices is that the notes are definitely not for Bio. They’re for Econ, as initially prescribed.
The second thing he notices, as he flicks through the papers, skimming over the complicated graphs and annotated research, is that what he’s reading is actually good.
Well, I’ll be darned, Tony thinks, eyes getting progressively wider as he flicks through the pages. Not bad at all.
Makes him wonder why Parker thought he was missing his Bio notes though.
The answer to that becomes clear when a crumpled envelope falls out of the stack onto Tony’s lap. He picks it up, at first thinking it’s a part of the research, but pauses. It’s open and it’s addressed to May Parker.
“Um,” he says.
It’s from Queens Presbyterian Hospital, which should make him drop it as if it were burning. It doesn’t, though. Either it’s meant to be included in the folder, or it’s not and that’s why Parker has been acting like a crazy-ex all morning.
Hmm. Tony sits there, torn, debating whether or not to look into it, the overdue stamp standing out against the crisp paper like a warning sign. On one hand, he’s running kinda late and, y’know, privacy or whatever -- on the other, his fingers are already itching to know what’s in it.
Mind your own business, he can already hear Rhodey saying, mind your own business, Tony.
Curiosity and a distinct lack of a moral compass wins, as always. Just a quick peek, that should be okay, right? The envelope is already open anyway, so, it’s not like anyone will be able to tell.
God, this is none of my business, he tells himself, even as he’s retrieving the letter from within and starts reading it.
Oh.
Tony quickly stashes the letter back into the envelope and back into the folder. Yep, definitely none of his business.
Yeah, he really shouldn’t have done that. Big fucking yikes on his behalf. And yep, there’s the guilt -- or at least he thinks the stomach churning is guilt, it could be the stale muesli bar he ate on the way.
Nonetheless, it hangs over him like a dark cloud as he picks up his backpack and heads out to the garage across the road. What kind of asshole looks into someone’s mail because they can’t help themselves. This dick, that’s who.
Fixing a grin he doesn’t really feel, he heads to the back office. He knocks on the window, ducking his head into the open door.
“Yo,” he waves to the man sitting behind the desk. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Hey kid,” the man looks up, smiling before his face drops. “Tony, your face. What happened?”
“This? It’s nothing --”
“-- is that why you couldn’t come to work yesterday? Not that I mind,” the man stands up. “Are you okay? Was it --”
“-- Was it nothing to worry about? Absolutely,” Tony holds his hands up in surrender. “Just an unfortunate encounter with a wild, feral squirrel in Central Park. I tell you, they’re deceivingly cute, but they’re pests. Totally out of control.”
“Tony.”
“Jarvis,” he interrupts, gesturing to the cars in the garage behind him. “C’mon. Look, let’s get to work, okay? Save the violins for later.”
And by later he means never.
The man sighs, world-weary, looking at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. At first he’s certain his boss is going to push the issue, but it must be a day for dodging bullets because he relents.
“Alright, kid. I got a ninety-four Ford sedan back there with your name on it. Busted fan belt, overheated engine. Probably needs a new set of spark plugs while you’re at it.”
With a grateful nod, Tony heads back, locating the vehicle in question. It’s rusted to all hell and probably not worth the cost of repair, but he gets stuck into it anyway, keen for a distraction. He sets his bag and bot down near him while Jarvis blasts Alice Cooper’s Poison.
Tony might not have all the answers to life’s problems, but this is something he knows how to fix.
---
He probably distracts himself a little too well, because by the time he’s wrapped up with the Ford it’s already five-thirty and he’s a mess of engine oil and coolant.
It’s only when Jarvis squeezes his shoulder and points to the clock on the far wall does he realise that he’s lost his sense of time. How the fuck is he supposed to clean up and get all the way from Harlem to Queens at this time of night?
“Ah, crap,” Tony mutters, setting down his socket-wrench in his toolbox. “I’m late.”
“Late for what? You got a hot date or something?” Jarvis asks, stepping back to give him some room as he rushes to the staff bathroom.
“What, no,” He calls back, running the faucet and pumping soap over his hands. “I gotta go see about a guy.” He struggles to hear his boss over the running water but he doesn’t have time to stop and figure it out.
“From school?”
“Yes, and a prime pain in my ass,” Tony mutters, drying his hands on his jeans, walking back into the garage. “Anyway, see you Monday, chief?”
His boss nods, passing Tony his earnings for the week in cash. Tony should have known to dash and run because he starts hearing the proverbial violins when Jarvis clamps a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in a way that is more paternal than Tony is comfortable with.
“You know you can call me, you have my number. You come up and see me and the missus whenever you want.”
Tony fake snores.
“Jarvis.”
“We have a spare room,” he insists, shrugging sheepishly and stepping back. “It’s yours at any time.”
“I see you enough, okay, don’t push it. I’ll see you Monday,” Tony draws him into a one-armed hug and claps him on the back. “Don’t you worry about me.”
“Don’t make me worry.”
“No promises,” Tony salutes, slinging his backpack on shoulder and walking backwards out of the garage to the street. “Hug the missus for me.”
Jarvis salutes back.
With that he sprints across the street when there’s a gap in traffic, bot snapping gently at his hair as he runs.
Sweaty and sore, he is full of energy, a sense of accomplishment coursing through his blood, like an afternoon of work can only provide. He should fire off a text, he thinks, as he starts the ignition and heads out onto the road, yeah. Let Parker know he will be late.
And he does genuinely mean to send a message at the next traffic stop, but then Queen starts playing on the radio and Tony isn’t a fool, okay, he turns that up loud.
Next traffic stop, he promises himself.
---
“I’m beginning to think you can’t read the time,” Parker opens the door with a scowl. “You said six.”
Wincing in the hallway, Tony looks at his phone. Six-fifty-nine. It’s not totally his fault, okay. There was a pile up along the way and traffic was a nightmare of ridiculous proportions. He swears he’s gonna be the first person to invent a commercially viable flying car just for the sake of personally avoiding road congestion.
“Yeah, so. Here’s the thing: I had things to do, okay, priorities --”
“You and your priorities, I swear to god --”
“Here,” Tony cuts him off, passing him his folder, letter neatly inside where it isn’t going to obviously slip out. “Your folder, dumbass.”
Peter grips it, holding it to his chest as he stares at Tony for a moment, before passing it to the nearest flat surface, a weathered and small table that holds their keys.
“Okay, thanks,” Peter nods, smiling grimly, looking behind his shoulder. “Appreciate it. You can go now.”
“So where are the Econ notes,” Tony blurts, wincing as he plays dumb. “I mean, if you had something prepared.”
Peter blinks, surprised. “Oh, uh. Um, It can wait until Monday, can’t it?”
“The assignment is due Wednesday.”
“Right. Um, just give me a sec --”
“Is that Tony?”
May appears behind Peter, smiling brightly. Tony waves, rocking back on his feet.
“Hey, Missus Parker.”
“Hey there, handsome,” she hip-checks her nephew, joining him in the doorway and glancing between the two. “You didn’t mention we were having company tonight, Pete.”
“He’s not handsome and he’s not staying --”
“-- I was just dropping something off,” he looks to Peter. “And excuse you, the lady has spoken and I have to agree. I am handsome. Some might even say that I’m debonair.”
“And some might say that you’re deplorable.”
“Hmm, I think you mean adorable.”
That prompts a smile out of Peter. He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his chin up, all haughty.
“Tony Stark, you are many things, but adorable isn’t one of them.”
He leans in, pouting playfully. “Oh come on, Parker. I’m a little cute, aren’t I?”
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
“Uh, let me check,” Peter pauses before smiling sardonically. “Verdicts in - jury says you’re one-hundred-percent despicable. Sorry.”
"I’m sure I could sway the jury.”
“I think you mean you could pay the jury.”
Tony nods, pretending to be serious. “Well, yeah. You know, for consensus.”
Peter licks his lips, shifting closer.
“Consensus is important...”
“...Well, if you two are done,” May says after an extended period of silence, tying her hair back into a ponytail. “We were just about to head out to a Thai place around the corner. Tony, you should join us.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I should go --”
The rest of his words are cut off by a truly monstrous growl of his stomach. He winces, scrunching up his nose sheepishly. He probably should have eaten more than Reeses all afternoon.
“Well, I guess that settles that,” May says, stepping out of the doorway and beckoning Tony in. “Come in. Sorry about the mess.”
It’s with Peter still staring at him that he reluctantly enters their apartment, brushing past the other boy. It looks the same as it did the other week, mostly tidy and smelling like incense. There’s a sizeable stack of unfolded laundry on the dining table, however, that wasn’t there before.
Tony’s distracted by a pair of dancing-bulbasaur boxers sticking out of the pile when May leans in close to sniff at his hair.
“You’ve got something in your hair, honey. Is that paint?”
He runs his fingers through his hair, palm coming back streaked with green. “Oh, uh, radiator fluid,” he explains, holding up his hand.
“Can I ask what you did to your face?”
“I saved a homeless guy and his beef-sandwich from a pack of rabid, angry dogs. No need to call me a hero.”
May looks at him oddly. “Oh, well, if you say so. Go get yourself washed up and we can head out.”
The burn of Peter’s stare follows him all the way to their bathroom.
---
The meal is less awkward than Tony thought it would be.
Well, for him at least.
Over larb and khao pad they’d gotten through an informal interview with May about her experience as a caregiver with a single income. Not only was it informative for his own future financial independence, but she has been generous enough to speckle in colorful anecdotes of her nephew’s upbringing. Parker’s face has been getting progressively redder all night and it has nothing to do with the spice in his food.
Tony has enjoyed the evening thoroughly.
“ - and of course, we were lucky we hadn’t decided to go cheap on the health insurance. Especially when Pete here broke his wrist at gymnastics when he was eight.”
Tony barely holds back a snort.
“You did gymnastics, Parker?”
Peter tips his head back to stare at the ceiling and sighs. The flush seems to be creeping down his neck too, Tony observes gleefully. He stuffs a large mouthful of rice in his mouth to mitigate the urge to tease.
"Yes, he was very good, weren’t you, Pete? So talented, you should see his medals.”
“Stop, please.”
“C’mon, no need to be embarrassed, Pete, you were amazing,” she says. “You’re still a flexible little bug, aren’t you?”
Tony chokes on his rice.
Peter has his eyes squeezed shut and looks like he wants the earth to swallow him whole.
“May, I’m literally begging you.”
“Uh,” he beats at his chest with his fist, swallowing roughly. “So how long did you do that for?”
“Until I was fourteen.”
“Why’d you quit?”
There’s a very deliberate, weighted pause. May and Peter share a look between them and Tony gets a deeply uncomfortable sense that he’s just stuck his foot in it. Retract, he thinks, already regretting opening his mouth.
“Well,” May clears her throat, her tone light. “After my husband, Pete’s uncle Ben died, we moved away and we had to make some... financial cuts at the time.”
The bite he’s just taken goes to ash in his mouth. God, he really is a big idiot isn’t he. He’d assumed that May never got married to the man in the photos or that they’d just divorced, he didn’t realise that he’d passed - and so recently, too. Welling up with shame, he can’t stop himself from glancing at Peter, who’s staring at the table, lips pursed.
“Oh,” he clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to - I didn’t know. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” May waves her hand dismissively, but her smile is strained. “Anyway, what about you, Tony? You’re severely asthmatic, right? That must have been hard, growing up if you wanted to play sports.”
Tony’s eyes widen.
“Yes, um, so hard. Luckily I’m not really an exercise-y kinda guy. I personally prefer to keep a heart rate below eighty beats per minute.”
“Did you have any hobbies growing up?”
“Yeah, driving my parents crazy,” Tony says, glad for the shift from the somber topic. “Escaping from nannies, seeing how quickly I could get them to quit.”
“You like tinkering,” Peter says quietly, looking up. “You mentioned, before. Cars and stuff.”
He shrugs, starting to feel as if he’s under the microscope, especially when Peter looks at him, eyes glittering with thinly-veiled interest.
“I mean, I don’t know. I like - building stuff, I guess. Machines and robots, y’know, cars. It’s like, whatever.”
“You want to be the next Elon Musk or somethin’?” Peter asks, not unkindly, resting his chin on his hand.
“Nah, I wanna be the first Tony Stark,” he scratches his cheek, suddenly bashful. It’s an uncommon feeling for him. One hard to avoid, however, particularly when there is a boy who Tony doesn’t really hate who’s asking about his life like it might matter.
He clears his throat. “Anyway, mostly it was just me cataloguing all the ways I could make the vein in my fathers’ head pop. I’m still working on that.”
May looks between them, smiling.
“Sounds like you were a handful.”
“Sure was.”
Still is, apparently, no matter how much he tries to stay out of the way.
The silence that follows is punctuated by the sounds of cutlery scraping across plates, of shrinking ice cubes rattling against glass. It feels pensive at the same time as it does thorny, like Tony opened the door to let someone in but accidentally let out a few ghouls.
And despite knowing he’d stepped on a landmine with the Parkers, he can’t help but wonder what other pieces of the puzzle he’s missing. Why Peter doesn’t live with his parents. Not that Tony is invested in him or anything.
He just doesn’t like mysteries, that’s all.
May excuses herself after to head to the bathroom not long after. It’s during that time that the waiter brings the check, which Tony takes immediately, slipping in some of the cash he’d gotten earlier, despite Peter’s protests. He was gonna do it anyway, even if he didn’t have the letter in the back of his mind.
“Stop paying for me,” Peter says after he passes the check-book back to the waiter. “Your family is rich, I get it. I’ve told you, I don’t need your charity.”
Tony shakes his head. It’s not worth mentioning that the only money he spends doesn’t come from his family.
“It’s not charity. Do you really think I’m that nice, eh? C’mon. Maybe I like lording it over you.”
“Well, at some point I’m going to pay you back.”
“And when that time comes I’m not going to accept your money.”
“You will,” Peter smiles wryly down at his plate. “I have my ways.”
“As do I, sweetums. Now, do me a favour: shut up and finish your larb.”
Peter does, but something about him shifts. It seems more quiet and contemplative, his eyes staying longer on Tony than they normally would. He wants to tell him to take a picture, but for once, Tony thinks it’s probably best if he keeps his mouth shut.
---
Back at the apartment, Peter goes to retrieve his ‘Econ notes’, taking the folder from the table and retreating to his bedroom. In the interim, May offers to let Tony stay over, inviting him for what he’s sure would be a rousing game of Mario Kart.
He politely declines.
“You sure? Winner gets to choose a movie.”
“I should really get home,” he says. “Thanks though. And thanks for dinner.”
“No problem. Thank you for paying, you didn’t have to do that. Let me pay you back.”
“No need. Think of it as payment for your services and letting us pick your brain tonight.”
She reluctantly accepts with a lot less pride than what her nephew displayed and that makes Tony feel a little sick, because it’s evident that she’s a proud and stubborn woman by nature. Her acceptance, albeit laboured, speaks volumes as to the reasoning behind it.
What takes him by surprise is when she hugs him goodbye and kisses his cheek.
“You’re a good egg, Anthony. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
It’s probably the most maternal touch he’s had since, well. Probably since he last went to stay with Jarvis and his wife. Fidgeting in the hold, he’s not sure if he wants to squirm or to sink into it.
May leaves when Peter comes back in, a familiar stack of notes in his hands that he passes to Tony.
“You gonna kiss me goodbye, too?”
“What?” Peter blinks.
"Uh, never mind,” Tony waves the papers at him. “Thanks for this.”
Peter looks around to make sure they’re alone before leaning in rather promptly.
“Wow, hold up on the proximity there,” Tony inches back, startled by their sudden closeness. “I was joking about the kiss --”
“You read the letter, didn’t you,” Peter whisper-hisses.
“What? Letter? What letter?” Tony says, voice strangled. “I don’t know of any letter.”
He gets a painful poke in his chest for his lies.
“Don’t play dumb. It wasn’t where I left it.”
“I’m not -- ow, quit poking me.”
“Then stop lying. You’re unbelievable -- don’t you know that opening someone else’s mail is a crime?”
Tony’s shoulders slump as he concedes.
“Look, it was an accident, it just slipped out. And also, it’s not technically a crime, if the envelope was already open.”
“Oh and the letter magically opened itself and forced you to read it.”
“That could be argued.”
“Why couldn’t you mind your own business?“
Sick of being poked, he shoves the papers between his arm and his ribs to hold them and takes Peter’s fingers in his hands, squeezing the digits when they struggle to break free of his hold.
“I should have, I admit it - I didn’t think, okay, I’m sorry. Is she okay?”
Peter stops struggling, looking over his shoulder again.
“I don’t know,” he leans in again to whisper, “I only found it yesterday, I haven’t spoken to her yet. Look, I know you hate me, but can you please not tell anyone about this?”
“Why would I tell anyone?”
“I don’t know, because you’re the devil, and you get a kick out of seeing me suffer?”
“True, but I’m not going to tell anyone. Promise. That would make me look like an asshole and you like a martyr. Ergo, I shut my cake hole and continue looking better than you.”
“You’re a real prince charming,” the other boy huffs, but seems to take him at face value. “If I find out differently I’m going to come after you. You’re going to need dental work afterwards.”
Tony lets go of their joined hands, balling his fists and raising them to his face, mimicking what the other boy had done last night.
“You wanna tousle, huh?”
He gets a light shove out the doorway for his attitude.
“Alright, smartass. Get the fuck outta here already.”
“Going, going. Goodnight, princess.”
He mock bows, peering up under his eyelashes, momentarily arrested as he watches Parker roll his eyes and bite his bottom lip in an attempt to smother a smile.
His heart continues to beat a bit oddly all the way down to the car, where he sits in contemplative silence for a few moments until the sound of metal clicking shifts him out of his thoughts.
“Oh, hey you,” he coos, gently retrieving his bot from his bag and placing it in the passenger seat, instantly feeling bad. “I didn’t think I would take so long. I’m sorry.”
Placing a seatbelt over the bot and buckling him in, Tony begins to narrate his night to him as he pulls off the curb and begins driving.
“I guess that Parker isn’t so bad,” he tells the bot, who swivels its head in response to his voice. “I mean, he can’t dress for shit and has questionable tastes in friends - oh, and cannot hold his liquor - but I dunno, baby-bot. He’s okay. Don’t tell anyone I said that, though -- and oh my god, did I mention he did gymnastics, what a fucking dork...”
The thoughts churn and buoy him until he pulls up to his house nearly an hour later. From the driveway he can see his fathers office light still on.
The sight of it makes his stomach drop, all good cheer gone in an instant.
“Damn,” Tony whispers to himself, tapping his knuckles against the steering wheel. This time of night on a Saturday can only mean one thing and he is really not in the mood to be in the crosshairs of whatever his father and Stane are up to.
But before he can work himself into a worry his phone vibrates in his pocket.
> hey, look, thanks for not being a total dick tonight about everything > and last night as well, I guess > yknow what i mean < ur welcome < by the way, i’m proud of you > for what < not finishing off ur aunts beer tonight < takes strength < asking for help is the first step > omfg i take back what i said > ur the worst < and ur a pain in my ass > they have creams for that u know > anyway, g’nite, butthole > p.s. you’re still not adorable Tony smiles down at his phone. < goodnight bambi The bot clicks at him, breaking him out of his train of thought.
“Don’t look at me like that. Let’s go in, but you gotta keep quiet, okay.”
He manages to avoid detection and attention from anyone, despite accidentally stepping on a squeaky floorboard. Maybe it had something to do with the record player and raucous laughter coming from the office.
In any case, Tony’s just happy to make it back to his bedroom. There, he toes off his sneakers and starts getting ready for bed, stashing the leftover cash into a drawer.
It makes him think about Peter’s reluctance for Tony to pay for over the last couple of instances, and how freaking annoying that is. And rude.
Honestly, the dude should count himself as one of the lucky guys - Tony is not that magnanimous. He doesn’t experience an impulsive, unthinking eagerness to provide for just anybody.
Oh.
Tony stills in the middle of his bedroom.
Oh no.
He knows what this is.
“This is bad.”
---
*
*
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tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny, @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix, @cherrygoldlove @starkerflowers @starkeristheendgame @thewolffearsher @starkersugar , @starkerforlife6969, @css1992, @parkerrbitch, @fuckmemrstark, @blankblankityblank, @ilovemoreid, @blaquedecember, @killmylonelysoul, @notfor-temporaryuse, @arvaen
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"I've always known that I was a big target for them - almost as big as Erwin himself - but I never thought they would go after my own daughter." Levi released a dark chuckle at this, closing his eyes in disbelief. 'I can't believe my stupidity. The Titans have cut down families before, I don't know what made me think that mine would be any different."
(Rivetra AU where Petra is a pediatric nurse and Levi is a single father)
Hello! Wow oh wow! I haven't written since August and this oneshot definitely made it more obvious. Originally it was only supposed to be about 5,000 words but it soon grew into the monster that it is now. Will it stay a oneshot forever? I don't know...but for now, it is what it is! Editing this was a nightmare, so I apologize for any missed mistakes, as well as my poor writing skills that have been underutilized for quite some time.
I hope regardless of that, you will still enjoy this! I just finished AOT and this couple's story absolutely gripped my heart. Here you go, Rivetra fandom!
As always, reviews are MUCH appreciated. So please be sure to tell me what you think!
-
Petra Ral was NOT having a good day.
While she had been a night nurse for several years now, her penchant for making rookie mistakes was almost as bad as it had been when she started. Upon crashing into bed at seven this morning, she had completely forgotten to set her alarm for later in the day. Hence, why she was running through the streets of Paradis like a madwoman.
Her co-workers were less than impressed with her dramatic entry onto the ward. Nanaba was glaring at her over the top of the counter, while Nifa bristled from beside the employee water tower.
"Really, Petra?" The spunky redhead commented in a low, disapproving tone - watching as the other ginger woman threw her bag down onto the floor beneath the desk and hurriedly began to punch in her time. "This oversleeping thing is getting pretty old, considering it's six in the afternoon, not six in the morning."
Petra held back a growl as she fumbled with her card, sticking it into the machine but not getting any response due to the shakiness of insertion. Finally, she heard a click and withdrew the parchment. With her heart still racing like mad after her dash up the stairs, she dropped in exhaustion into a vacant chair.
“You say that - “ Petra spoke for the first time since entering Paradis Hospital, her usual chipper voice hoarse from her ragged breathing. “ - but you’re not the one who worked a 12-hour shift yesterday. You were too busy working on that boyfriend of yours to even - "
“Shhhhhh!” Nifa’s face glowed scarlet as she shushed the young woman, her pale skin heating at the vulgar comment. Nanaba just laughed quietly at her friend’s embarrassment, turning her attention back to the file in front of her. All the nurses and doctors bustling about around the counter paid the girls no mind, used to the familiar banter between the three.
"Say what you want about Nifa's love life," Nanaba bristled, pulling out another form from the file in front of her for closer observation. The blonde's eyes cut towards Petra, disapproval evident in her tone. "But your the one who's late today. We had a pretty intense case come into the ward too from emergency."
“What?!” Petra yelped, her nurse’s instincts kicking in instantly at Nananba’s words. Despite her still heaving chest, the young woman sat up straighter to observe the report that was being handed over to her. “Is the child okay?”
"She's stable." Nanaba offered, turning back to the folder on her desk to grab a few more forms. "However, she's going to need to be watched closely throughout the night. The poor thing was stabbed and the blade had poison on it."
Petra wished she could act shocked, but she wasn’t. Paradis Hospital received several stab cases a day due to the gang violence in the area. The Titans certainly weren’t pulling any of their punches when it came to looting. Regardless of whether their victim was eight or eighty, they would steal from anyone with a bit of coin in their pocket.
Stabbings weren't super common on the pediatric ward, but common enough that all the staff who bustled about barely batted an eye at the thought of such an injury being treated on the floor.
"She's already been stitched up and the antidote for the poison has been administered - but, the emergency department sent her up here for monitoring, just in case she relapses," Nifa explained, now leaning over the counter to read the forms Nanaba still held in her hands. The blonde threw her an exasperated look.
“She’s not your patient, so stop being so damn nosy.”
"Well, I've never - " Nifa scoffed at the blonde's scathing tone, though Petra could hear the amusement behind it. "Sorry, for wanting to dedicate my life for the next 12-hours to a hot man with a nice - oh, I mean to a sweet little girl with a -"
"Nifa!" Petra exclaimed, catching on to what the young woman was implying. "Don't tell me you're trying to hit on a little girl's father while she's bedridden in the hospital! Have you no shame?"
“Not really!”
Even Nanaba laughed at Nifa's answer.
"Well, too bad for you, since you have a boyfriend." The blonde reminded her, to which the red-headed nurse simply stuck out her tongue. " - and Petra has been assigned to be her nurse."
“Me?” Petra had the gall to act surprised, but her friends simply rolled their eyes at her modest response.
“Oh please!" Nifa sighed, crossing her arms over the counter to once again lean closer to the girls on the other side. One of the older doctors, a man with grey hair and spectacles, eyed her disapprovingly as he passed. Nifa didn't even spare him a glance. "While you may be a notorious flake when it comes to arriving on time, it's no secret that they entrust you with the higher priority cases on the ward."
Nifa was right - it wasn't a secret. Since graduating at the top of her class in nursing school, she had always been highly respected for not only her knowledge but bedside manner, as well. Just last year, she had received an award for having the highest satisfaction rate on her floor. Now, if only she could show up to work on time…
“- he’s really short, but his eyes - wow!" Petra was brought back from her thoughts by Nifa's words. Nanaba was shaking her head as she wrote a note down in one of her patient files, trying to tune out the girl's excessive praise. "He's got that rough around the edges look, yet is put together and clean and - "
"I hate to cut you off in the middle of your fantasy - " Petra commented before standing and collecting the patient papers from the desk. "- but I have patients to take care of."
Nifa's mouth popped open in shock, her expression quickly turning to one of disbelief at the sight of Petra's teasing look.
“Says the girl who was LATE!”
Petra chuckled, shrugging her shoulders as she rushed off to her first patient's room, ready to begin her shift with newfound energy. Despite her exhaustion from the night before and the soreness in her limbs, she couldn't approach the job she loved with anything less than excitement and positivity.
Maybe it would be a good day after all.
-
Upon entering Heidi Ackerman's room twenty minutes later though, Petra was once again lamenting the horrible luck that seemed to be plaguing her during the past twenty-four hours.
It wasn't the child who was causing her such discomfort, but her father.
After having checked on and familiarizing herself with the low-risk patients she had been assigned, Petra finally decided to introduce herself to the latest Titan's stab victim that was residing on her ward. Checking the young girl's forms before entering the room, the nurse noticed that the child was due for a round of medication soon anyways.
‘Perfect,' Petra thought to herself while turning the knob of the door. 'If I take care of her medications now, I won’t have to return for another hour and then I can go check on - ‘
Petra's thoughts were interrupted by the sight that met her upon entry to the room.
Nifa wasn’t kidding - the guy was short. Like, really short.
Petra rarely met a male anywhere close to her height - so, the short stature of the figure that stood by the lone window of the room, instantly caught her attention.
The second thing that caught her attention? His looks.
While the man was certainly not attractive by societal standards, his piercing gaze was enough to stop any woman in her path. His eyes were grey and heavily hooded by pale white lids and beneath his stare, lay two dark bags that spoke of a restless nature. Despite the blatant signs of exhaustion, his dark hair lay near perfect across his forehead, the shaved lower half of it buzzed in an undercut fashion.
He was captivating and terrifying all at once.
“Oi, are you just going to stand there?”
His gravelly, low voice broke her from her analysis, jolting her back to reality as he shifted his posture to a more casual stance. Whereas he once stood rigid, he now placed a hand on his hip and schooled his features to resemble something more akin to indifference.
Realizing she had never responded, Petra suddenly jumped into action.
"Oh!" She smiled awkwardly, not quite feeling like her usual self. Typically, talking to patients and their families wasn't so difficult for her, but this guy was unlike her usual clientele. He practically exuded indifference and didn't look very interested in receiving an answer to what she had to assume was a rhetorical question - but Petra did not care. "Hello, my name's Petra Ral, I'll be the night nurse for Miss Heidi."
As if saying her name had reminded her of exactly why she was standing there in the first place, Petra turned her smiling face towards the bed, trying not to show her concern as her gaze fell on the small child.
Heidi Ackerman at five years old had experienced more pain in the past several hours than some adults would face in their entire lifetime. While the child's sweet features could still be seen over the top of the crisp white blankets, the pained lines of her forehead spoke of a quiet distress that had taken a hold of her and refused to let go.
Petra ached to go towards her - however, a snide remark from the man on the other side of the room had her pausing.
“You’re going to attend my child looking like that?” Disgust was evident in the man’s tone as he gave her a once over from top to bottom. “Ever heard of an iron?”
The young woman could feel her face go red at his comment, her eyes glancing down at the outfit she typically wore during her shift - a white nurses uniform, tights, and white slip-ons. The front of her outfit was pristine white - however, the bottom of her skirt had a set of small wrinkles. Petra went redder as she realized that in her confusion to get dressed after having slept in, she had picked up her uniform from the previous night that had been lying atop of the hamper.
Most people wouldn't even have noticed her slightly used uniform, but somehow this man had called her out on it, despite it only having had a few wrinkles of use embedded in the fabric.
Petra was furious. Of course, she wasn't going to show it, since she was a professional - but she couldn’t help but bite back, even if it was just a little.
“Yeah - well you aren’t looking too good either, so I guess we're even.”
The man cocked an eyebrow at her comment, before looking down at himself to see what she was talking about.
In Petra's defense, she hadn't actually looked at the man's clothes. When she had entered the room, she had been so distracted by his face, that she hadn't even gotten the opportunity. But, as he looked down at himself in search of the reason for her comment, Petra was able to give him a once over too. After examining his outfit of choice, Petra had to bite back a groan from the error of her comment.
He was dressed immaculately, wearing a dark brown leather jacket with a white shirt underneath and a pair of slender black jeans on the bottom. On his feet, were a pair of shiny, black combat boots that looked as though they had been polished that very morning.
However, the state of his clothes was not the reason Petra wanted the Earth to swallow her whole. It was the substance on the front of his shirt.
Blood.
“Tch," The man clicked his tongue, having caught sight of the dried, red blood covering his otherwise pristine white shirt. "I guess my child's blood isn't the best accessory to wear, huh?"
Fully embarrassed by her comment, Petra immediately stuck out her hands in defense, forms and all.
“Sir, I’m sorry. I truly didn’t mean - “
“I’m sure.” The words were said with such a quiet finality, that the woman felt her tongue grow heavy in her mouth. Not knowing what else to say, the room fell into an awkward silence that even Petra’s vivacious personality couldn’t conquer.
Perhaps, she had officially met her match.
The man continued to stare at her with his slate-gray eyes as the silence drug on - however, they were both interrupted from their thoughts by a quiet cough coming from the bed.
‘That’s right!’ Petra thought, a newfound energy taking hold of her as she returned her attention to the small patient residing in the bed. ‘She’s the reason I’m here.’
"Sorry, Miss Heidi!" Petra adopted her usual, chipper tone as she approached the child, already glancing at the chart that had been left on the wall at her side. While the form should have match the one she had been given, she wasn't one to cut corners, so she began to read over it to check for any additional information that could have been missed. "Your father and I are rudely neglecting you. Are you in any pain at the moment?"
While most children instantly brightened at the ginger's easygoing bedside manner - Heidi, much like her father, was not acting like a typical patient. Instead of answering, the small, dark-haired girl remained silent, glancing over at the woman with the same hooded gray eyes as her father.
Petra found the whole thing incredibly unnerving. To keep herself busy, she began to check the young girl's vitals. As she glanced over the numbers, she snuck a peek at her charge who still lay silent in the hospital bed.
Despite her lack of response to Petra's earlier question, the woman could see from the lines of distress on the girl's forehead that something was bothering her. She knew from the child's file that she had been slashed with a knife across the stomach and had been on the receiving end of an incredibly deadly poison. There probably wasn't much on her body that didn't hurt at this point.
Although she knew that the young girl must be in pain, the silence continued to grow as the two females in the room kept their gazes locked on the other.
Finally, Heidi turned to her father, who had been watching the scene unfold from his designated spot by the window. The girl's eyes shone with nothing short of fear as she appeared to silently communicate with her father. While the look on the poor child's features caused Petra's heart to clench, the man by the window merely bristled at his daughter's behavior.
"Stop trying to be tough, brat." His voice was rough, the edge in his tone similar to what it had been a minute ago. However, Petra was relieved to note a slight gentleness to his words that hadn't been present in their earlier conversation. "There's no reason to hide your pain if you're feeling any."
While the young nurse imagined any normal child would flinch at such words being thrown at them after having experienced such trauma - Heidi just blinked at her father's comment, almost as if pondering the meaning behind it.
Petra was about to jump in, having seen quite enough of the man's crass attitude towards his daughter, when the little girl finally spoke. Feebly, but with conviction.
“My stomach burns.”
Unlike her father's voice, Heidi had a sweet, slightly high-pitched voice, that would have had Petra cooing, had it not been for the current predicament the child was in.
“That’s to be expected.” The ginger responded understandingly, wanting the girl to know that she was someone she could trust over the next twelve hours. “What if I told you that I have some medicine that could make it feel better? Would you like that, Miss Heidi?”
Heidi hesitated for a moment, pulling the crisp white blanket up to her chin, almost acting like she was ashamed for having to take medicine. However, only a few beats passed before she nodded in response to the young woman's question.
"Perfect!" Petra's smile grew, the genuine kindness that typically radiated from her, shining from the depths of her chestnut eyes. "You're going to need a drink to help you wash down your pills - and I know they may taste a little nasty - so, how about I get you a juice to make it just a little bit better?"
As though a switch had been flipped, Heidi’s pale hands dropped the sheet covering the lower half of her face, revealing a tiny, rosebud mouth opened in shock. The dull gray of her eyes that had been so flat just a few moments ago, sparkled at the prospect of such a treat.
It made Petra’s heart clench once again.
The nurse was about to ask what flavor the girl wanted when her attention was drawn back to the man standing on the other side of the room. He had made a disapproving noise with his tongue as his daughter's face lit up at the thought of the sweet drink.
"Now you've done it." The man chuckled, though there was no real humor behind it. "This girl's favorite thing in the world is sweets. Now she's going to say she's in pain, just so she can get some juice."
“Sir,” Petra responded firmly, her once shining brown eyes hardening at such a careless statement. “I’m sorry, but after what she’s been through today, I think the least we could do is allow her to have some juice.”
The man shrugged his shoulders, raising his brows as though to tell her ‘do what you want’.
Which she would - gladly, in fact.
Turning back towards Heidi, who was now watching her father with a concerned expression, Petra attempted to redirect the girl’s attention.
"What flavor do you want?" That got Heidi's head swiveling back towards her. "I have cherry, grape, apple, orange, or watermelon."
“Uhhhh - “ Heidi pondered over her choices, looking up at the ceiling as though the answer would be there. After a few moments of thinking it over, the girl finally glanced back at the nurse waiting anxiously by her bedside. “I guess...cherry?”
“Excellent choice!” Petra agreed, readying herself to leave the room, but stopping dead in her tracks when hearing Heidi’s little voice again.
“Is that okay, Daddy?”
Petra watched as the little girl turned to her father, gauging his reaction for some kind of approval. The nurse waited with bated breath as the man simply stared back at the child, giving no indication of his approval either way.
Just when he was opening his mouth to give Heidi an answer - Petra jumped in, tired of witnessing the power dynamic in front of her.
“Your Daddy’s not the one drinking the juice, Heidi - so, I’m sure your choice is of no real consequence to him. Isn’t that right, Mr. Ackerman?”
There was a challenge in her tone, the words laced with borderline rudeness as she stared down the man across the room from her. Never in her life had she been so sharp with a patient nor a patient's family - however, she guessed there was no day like today. If she was going to get fired due to bad conduct, at least let it be because she stood up for a child who seemed to be in want of an advocate.
What reaction she was expecting to get from the man, she did not know - but it certainly wasn't a smirk.
He was smirking at her.
The silence stretched on for a few more seconds, the man's thin lips holding that frustrating smirk in place. He watched her as though waiting for what she was going to do next, but instead of shrinking under his gaze, she simply crossed her arms over her chest, ready to stand her ground.
Once the older Ackerman noticed Heidi’s head swiveling from side to side, watching their reactions, he released another tired, breathy chuckle.
“That’s right, Miss Ral.”
Petra hated to admit it - but, even after exiting the room, her legs continued to shake as she made her way down the hall. The trembles soon transferred into her hands as she poured the little girl a glass of cherry juice.
Upon re-entering the room, the first thing Petra noticed was that Mr. Ackerman had moved from what she thought was going to be his permanent spot in the room. He now stood by his daughter where she lay in her hospital bed, speaking quietly to her about something that the nurse couldn’t hear.
The second he saw her walk through the door, he quickly quieted - his lips returning to the thin line of indifference that she had become acquainted with, not too long ago. Choosing to ignore the strange atmosphere that settled over the room at such a blatant display of secrecy, Petra smiled brightly towards the child lying in the bed.
She was her priority.
“Alright, Miss Heidi!” Petra chirped happily, trying her best to return to the usual persona that she emulated while within the walls of the hospital. “Time for your medicine! If you could just sit up for me - “
The girl began to shift higher up in the bed, struggling to prop herself up against the pillows that lay behind her. Petra rushed to find somewhere to set the glass of juice down so that she could help her patient - however, she was beaten to it.
The girl's father placed his hands underneath her armpits, slowly pulling her back towards the head of the bed. After she was situated a little bit higher, he released his grip on her before tugging at the pillows to arrange them in a fashion that was more comfortable for her. Though he moved with purpose, his actions held a tenderness that Petra was surprised to see. If this was an unusual occurrence for Heidi, she certainly didn't show it on her tired, yet grateful features.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
The man grunted in response, patting his hand on the pillow behind her head one more time before moving his hands back to his pockets.
Petra’s brow rose in response to the uncharacteristic helpfulness she had just witnessed, but she tried to school her features in a way that didn’t show her surprise.
“Well - “ The woman cleared her throat, before handing the glass of juice over to the girl, to give herself time to retrieve the pills she had placed in the pocket at the front of her dress. “Hopefully, your pain will lessen after you take these.”
Heidi gave a shy nod at the woman’s words, looking warily at the pills. Noticing the child’s hesitance, the older Ackerman reached for the cup of juice in her shaking hands. With the movement of his arm, Petra watched as the cuff of his jacket slid up and over the skin of his wrist.
She couldn’t hide her surprise at what she saw branded there.
It was a ‘Wings of Freedom’ tattoo.
This man was a part of the Survey Corps.
It wasn’t that Petra had never interacted with an SC member before, it was just that they normally didn’t frequent this side of the hospital. Most of them didn’t have children and, even if they did, most of them wouldn’t have the opportunity to care for them properly.
It was no secret that of all the cities in Marley, Paradis was the one that had the biggest gang violence problem. Paradis was deemed as the headquarters for the infamous Titans gang, a group of thugs who were well-versed in politics and typically well-educated. One could never know that someone was a Titan, since they blended in so well to society.
There were rumors floating around that several larger corporations had Titans at the helm, working their way through the ranks in an attempt to have a better chance at being elected into political office. Their end goal was unclear - however, their violent acts and shady business dealings had escalated over the recent years.
Suddenly, businessmen who were in perfectly good health one day were turning up dead in a river the next. The same went for major political figures. Several big-name military men had been cut down in the streets and in their homes, to the point where the implications couldn't be ignored.
This was an all-out war.
Though Petra had been busy in nursing school at the time, she still vividly remembered Commander Erwin Smith’s case - since it had eventually led to the creation of the Survey Corps.
Erwin Smith had walked into his home one day after a long day of work, only to be attacked by a group of four masked Titans brandishing knives. While the Commander had lost an arm as a result of the poison on the blades that had come in contact with his arm, he was able to fight off all four assailants and come through the accident with a clear vision of what needed to be done.
This incident prompted the formation of the Survey Corps.
The Survey Corps was a group of former criminals who would have otherwise faced jail time or execution if they chose not to serve their government. The Commander's idea was that when it came to the Titans - one had to fight fire with fire. For him, the Survey Corps was his fire.
The men would be given a meager compensation in exchange for their loyalty, as well as a full pardon for the crimes they had committed in the past. All they had to do was promise their hearts to the cause.
Petra had always thought the venture sounded like a risky one. How could someone trust a criminal? If someone was willing to commit a crime once, wouldn’t they be willing to do it again? From what she had seen of the SC members who had been wheeled into the Emergency Room over the past few years, they looked more like thugs than the actual Titans themselves.
However, it appeared that that was the whole point.
The Survey Corps were used to obtain information about the Titans from the inside. To learn about the Titans, it seemed you had to act like one. Once inside, their goal was to negotiate deals with the underlings, who would then pass on the information to the SC in exchange for compensation. No surprise, though - these exchanges could turn deadly pretty quickly.
The young nurse couldn’t imagine how anyone could trust a criminal to infiltrate the enemy without the fear of them turning themselves - but from what she had heard, Commander Erwin Smith was a very good leader who kept a tight hold on all the men who worked under him.
Petra guessed as much since a good majority of them had small government-issued tracking devices located somewhere on their person - somewhere that they were unaware of, of course.
The woman had only ever seen an actual 'Wings of Freedom' tattoo once, and it was on the wrist of a body that was being rolled to the morgue past her in the hallway one day. The symbol was a sign of rank. Much like how the military operated, the Survey Corps themselves had a set of ranks that signaled a separation of powers within the group.
Only captains and the Commander himself were given the ‘honor’ of bearing the SC tattoo. The placement was purposeful, too - right on the wrist, where an opponent’s eyes would be drawn as they wielded their signature blades.
Suddenly, the behavior of the man made a lot more sense. He was a former thug - now, turned Captain of the Survey Corps.
The nature of Heidi’s injury also made a lot more sense now. She wasn’t victim to a few Titan pick-pockets on the street of Paradis. She was a victim to her father’s line of work.
She had been caught up in the crossfire.
"Miss Ral?" At the sound of the man's deep, gravelly voice, Petra looked up only to be met by a steely gray gaze. He had noticed where her eyes had fallen and had also deduced where her train of thought was drifting. "Are you ready to hand over the medicine?"
His tone was polite enough, not to alert Heidi to the mounting tension that seemed to build with every interaction the two adults had - but there was certainly an edge to it. He was pretty much daring her to ask questions.
Petra certainly was not taking the bait.
“Yes,” The woman responded, slowly. The smile that had fallen from her face at the sight of the man’s tattoo, returned as she warmly regarded her waiting patient. “Let’s get this over with!”
Neither father nor daughter caught the double meaning behind her words.
This shift could not go by fast enough.
-
After what she could only describe as ‘the longest 12-hour shift ever,’ Petra was ready to hit the sack and enjoy the next two days off.
It seemed like fate, though - had other plans.
"What?" The woman groaned as she pulled her time card out of the slot, her whine catching the attention of a few doctors passing by. Petra couldn't care less what they thought of her right now, she was exhausted - and the news Nanaba had given her was definitely less than welcome "There expediting Krista's maternity leave? Isn't she still like - I don't know - four months away from giving birth?!"
Nifa shook her head from her usual spot by the water tower, looking just about ready to fall over herself.
“Two months,” She reminded the frazzled ginger, chuckling at the groan her answer received. “It was bound to happen sooner or later with how faint she’s been - it just so happens that they made the call during a hospital-wide nursing shortage.”
Petra didn’t want to seem inconsiderate, but this news had really put a wrench in her plans - plans which had included nothing but cleaning and sleeping - but plans nonetheless! There were about a million other things she'd rather do than continue to cross paths with her patient's reticent father.
She had really thought that as the hours passed, his mood would perhaps lift and become a bit more pleasant - but no, things had only seemed to get worse.
While Heidi had slept most of the night, it was almost as if the dark-haired man was reluctant to close his eyes. No matter how many times Petra had walked in there over the past twelve hours, he never moved from his spot near the window. Even when Petra offered to help move the chair over closer to the wall so that he could see, he had glared at her as though she had outright insulted him.
Never had Petra felt so uncomfortable while tending to a patient and she had been doing this for years!
The worst instance of this was when she had gone to change Heidi's bandages over where her injury was. While she had tended to many injured patients before, she could feel a cold sweat breaking out along her hairline as she gently removed the bandages from the young girl's pale skin.
Every movement she made was subject to his intimidating glare - almost as though he was waiting to snap at her the second she made a wrong move. Though he was trying to hide it behind a wall of indifference, Petra could tell that he was on edge as she began to work on Heidi’s wound.
If one thing could be said, it was that Petra had never met a five-year-old quite like Heidi before. Though she remained silent for most of the night, the young woman could tell that she was highly intelligent and aware. Never before had she had a patient who was able to grit their teeth and fight their pain so well. Not even when her bandage got stuck on a small area of irritated skin did Heidi release a whimper.
Petra knew the whole process must have caused her a great deal of pain - however, like her father said, she was hellbent on acting tough.
It wasn’t until she got to the part of the cut that appeared to be the most severe that the child even happened to make a sound.
“Is that tender?” She had asked, but it was more of a formality. The lines of distress on the girl’s forehead told her all she needed to know. “I’ll try to make it quick.”
Heidi said nothing in response, but at her obvious signs of discomfort, her father shifted forward - hands still in his pockets, but his rigid posture showing that he wasn't nearly as indifferent as he tried to act.
Petra was suddenly aware of the man's eyes following the movements of her hands and - though she had done this in front of an audience many times - his attention made her more nervous than she had ever been before. Not only were his eyes watching her like a hawk's - but his body was also tilting forward , closer to her, to see exactly what she was doing.
Under such pressure, she panicked - something that was highly unlike her on a normal day.
With the man's eyes boring holes into her hands, her sweaty palms lost their grip on the bandage she had been trying to pull gently from the skin. Heidi's reaction was instantaneous.
While she had made little more than a whimper up to that point, when the bandage slipped from Petra's hand and the skin of her palm made contact with the stitches that lay over the girl's abdomen - a short, little whelp escaped from her lips at the pain.
If that didn’t have the nurse feeling bad enough, Heidi’s dad’s reaction almost had her crying.
While most parents would be understanding of such a small mistake - many not even realizing she had made one - because he had been watching her so closely, he had borne witness to her error. The shock on his face, expressed only by the raise of his brows and the slight opening of his mouth, soon morphed into something much more threatening - anger.
"Don't you know how to do your job?" The man seethed, glaring at her with the same eyes that had been watching her so closely moments before. While his voice was not loud, the quiet tone almost made it that much scarier. "Can't you see that your mistake has caused her pain?"
Petra didn’t know what else to do besides look at him like a gaping fish.
"Well - are you competent enough to continue your work, or should I request another nurse?"
“No sir,” The woman answered, quietly - in a sort of daze from the man’s unusual reaction. Though she thought he was going to argue some more with her - he instead leaned back against the wall next to Heidi’s bed and continued to watch her in silence, as though he hadn’t questioned her skill at all.
Petra rolled her shoulders back, steeling herself to do the same thing she had done a million times. She would not let this man get to her twice.
After apologizing to the small girl, who merely gave a meek nod in response, Petra finished removing the old bandage from her cut. Once the wound had been cleaned and rebandaged - the nurse hurriedly made herself scarce, barely giving the girl's father a second glance.
When she had left the room, her face had been flushed and she had felt as though she was going to cry - but after hearing the taunts from her friends at the desk, thinking she had had some kind of flirtation with her patient's father, she instead turned to the next room and prepared herself to tend to her other patients.
“Earth to Petra?” Nifa’s voice brought her back to the present, something she was grateful for. Though it had been a long shift, at least it was finally over. “So, are you going to cover Krista for the rest of the week?”
Petra groaned once again. She had forgotten why she had spaced out for so long in the first place - they wanted her to take on the night shift for an additional two days.
"Hey!" Nifa chirped, crossing the small distance that separated her from Petra, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "The good thing is you'll get almost a full week off if you finish all your hours now!"
"Yeah - " Petra agreed reluctantly, though her voice held little excitement. "But what good are hours off if I'm too exhausted to enjoy them?"
"All you do is clean, you neat freak! Don't act like it's going to spoil a hot date or something!"
Nanaba chuckled at Nifa's words, also reaching to pick up her card and clock out. "You know, she's not wrong."
Petra blushed at their goading. “How would you know?”
Both girls looked at her dubiously, their reaction causing Petra to blush an even deeper shade of red. Nifa shook her head, clucking her tongue in disappointment.
“I rest my case.”
“Oh, shove it!” Petra grabbed her bag from the floor, ready to leave the past 12-hour shift behind. “I’ll cover Krista’s damn shifts if it means I’ll get some time away from you weirdos next week.”
Nanaba rolled her eyes at Petra's dramatics, while Nifa simply laughed in response, also retrieving her bag from under the counter. Though both busied themselves by getting their stuff together to take home, neither missed the shameless smirk Petra sent over her shoulder.
“I guess this is the price one has to pay when they’ve been named the most satisfactory nurse on the ward.”
Now, this comment had both Nifa and Nanaba groaning, the girls rushing to catch up with Petra as she made her way to the stairwell.
-
The second day Petra was assigned to the Ackerman’s was just as strange as the first.
After getting a good 8-hour rest, the nurse entered the hospital with a renewed bounce in her step. The reason? She had pressed her uniform to perfection and had even pushed back her shoulder-length hair with a headband with not a hair out of place.
‘Let’s see what that man can find wrong with me now,’ Petra thought to herself as she clocked in for the day, only to be shocked by what she saw going on at Room 325 - Heidi Ackerman's room.
She could recognize the dark blue suits of the Military Police from a mile away.
Two men, one with long blonde hair and the other with a dark, crew cut, stood outside the girl's room, talking with Heidi's father. The men were speaking quietly to each other, the blonde one jotting down some notes onto a form he held in his hand.
It looked like a statement.
Not wanting to intrude, Petra double-checked Heidi's folder to make sure that she wasn't due for another dose of medication for another half an hour still. The day nurse had left several notes for the night nurse, describing the girl's progress. While she was still in a considerable amount of pain, her vitals had remained stable throughout the day. Now, the only thing they needed to worry about was the possibility of infection setting in at the sight of her would.
Petra made a mental note to remain extremely vigilant when it came to caring for the girl’s wound. The faster she healed, the faster she would be out of the ward.
'...and the faster her father could get the hell off of my floor.' Petra thought to herself, jotting down a few quick notes of her own, before closing the file and picking up the next.
By the time Petra arrived at Heidi's room, the MP's were long gone and the girl was sleeping peacefully in bed.
Upon entering the room with a glass of cherry juice already in hand, Petra braced herself for a rude comment or a deadly stare - but was surprised when she found that she was not on the receiving end of one.
Mr. Ackerman was still dressed in the same clothes he had worn the day before, his hair styled still to perfection, yet a bit greasier from the lack of a good washing. While his gaze was cold as ever as it moved from his daughter's slumbering form to the nurse as she entered the room, it wasn't nearly as intimidating as it had been before.
The man just looked tired.
Still, he stood by the lone window in the room, leaning against the ledge as if it was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Petra spared a glance towards the only chair in the room by Heidi's bedside and noticed that the pillow and blanket that she had left for him last night were still neatly folded and waiting to be used.
He had never slept. He had never even sat.
Petra's mouth popped open in surprise as she stood in the doorway, glass in hand. She wanted to say something but found that every time she tried to get the words out, they got stuck in her throat.
"Don't wake her up." It was the first words she had heard out of his mouth since entering, his tone as deep as it had been the day before, but weaker from lack of rest. He almost didn't look so much annoyed, as he did exasperated. "She's had a long few hours and was just now able to fall asleep."
At his request, Petra felt conflicted.
"It's time for her medicine." The woman insisted, talking quietly as she approached the girl's bedside, placing the glass of cherry red liquid onto the side table. "I'm worried that if she doesn't take it soon, she may wake up in pain."
The man considered her words, staring at her for a few moments before letting his gaze drop to the sleeping five-year-old in the hospital bed. The fact that he was even chewing over her statement had Petra reeling. While the day before, he had been questioning her methods - now he was actually taking her seriously.
The man sighed, pushing himself off from the wall he was leaning against.
“Could you wait twenty minutes?”
The words were spoken quietly, yet for the first time, they held no underlying rudeness. He seemed genuine in his request, his gray eyes boring into her's as he waited for an answer.
Petra was beginning to feel as though she was experiencing whiplash on the receiving end of his mood swings.
It was only in that moment, when he was making such direct eye contact with her, that she began to notice the slight shake of his stature, almost as though a short burst of chills were beginning to overcome his body. The sight was so strange, that Petra felt herself nodding at the man's request before she had even had a chance to think it over.
"Uh - " The young woman stuttered, trying desperately to find her voice. "I guess that would be alright?"
The man gave her a short nod of appreciation, his lips pressed in a thin line as he seemed to consider whether to say something else. Instead of asking any more questions though, he breezed past the young nurse and began to make his way to the door - something that caught Petra's attention, considering he had not left his daughter's room the entire time during her shift before.
"Wait!" She called out in surprise, though the volume of her voice surprised her. The man gave her a sharp look as he glanced over at the still slumbering child. After watching the rise and fall of her chest for a few long moments - he switched his gaze back to her, annoyance evident in the twist of his features.
And just like that, the same man from the day before was back.
"What?" He asked, as though it wasn't unusual for him to leave his daughter's room. In most cases, it wouldn't be strange for her patient's parents to leave their child unattended while they went to find some food or refreshments in the hospital, but this man had never done that before.
‘Maybe that’s why he wants her to stay asleep…’ Petra thought to herself, as she tried to think of what else she could say without sounding too nosy.
“Where are you going?”
Nice one, Ral.
The man scoffed, as though he believed her question didn't deserve an answer. Without responding, he turned back to the door and placed his shaking hand on the knob.
But Petra was surprised when, before leaving the room, he quietly called back over his shoulder.
“Would you mind keeping an eye on her for me, real quick? There’s something I need to do.”
Not waiting for her answer, the man was out the door before Petra's brain could even catch up to what he had been asking. However, when she realized what he had done, she found herself seething.
What did she look like - a babysitter?! She had other patients to be taking care of!
Though she knew that she had no real obligation to stay in Heidi’s room, there was something that had her sitting in the chair beside the bed, scooting the pillow and blankets out of the way to make herself more comfortable. She didn’t know what it was that kept her rooted in that spot, but she truly felt like she couldn’t leave the little girl.
A vision of the MP's quickly flashed through her mind.
It was that feeling of guilt that had her planted in the chair for the next twenty minutes - even though she had other patients to check on.
‘Oh well,’ Petra picked a piece of lint off the top sheet of the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Heidi’s small chest. ‘What are they gonna do? Fire me?’
Just as Petra was fantasizing about all the things she could do if her boss truly did fire her - Mr. Ackerman returned to the room.
The first thing the young ginger noticed about the man was that he held a large white bag in his hand - one that seemed to be from the hospital's gift shop. The second thing she noticed was that he held a mug of what looked like some kind of tea in his other hand.
The third thing she noticed was that he reeked of smoke. With this knowledge, Petra could feel her face heat up in annoyance.
Now the shaking of his body and hands made sense - he had been going through withdrawals.
“You left me in here to tend to your daughter while you went and had a smoke?” The nurse stood from her spot in the chair, quietly chastising the man as he walked through the door. “Don’t you know those things can kill you?”
After having gotten his fix of nicotine, the man was back to his usual pleasant self. Before Petra could even think of what else to say, his eyes flashed towards her in contempt.
"Don't you know how to mind your own business?"
At such a rude response, Petra threw caution to the wind, sick of the man's attitude. Not caring whether Heidi woke up at this point or not, she stormed over to the dark-haired man, pointing a single finger into his chest. At least the man had the nerve to look surprised.
“Listen here - “ Petra dug her finger further into his hard chest, the fabric of his white shirt wrinkling as she tapped him once more for good measure. “Your daughter is currently my patient, Mr. Ackerman. So yes, your health is a part of my business now. What I’d like to know is how you think you're going to take care of your child on nothing but cigarettes and tea? Did you even eat while you were gone?”
The man raised a brow at her tirade, still shocked at the fact that the small redhead had had the nerve to speak to him like that. He definitely wasn’t used to it.
"Well, did you?" She asked again, demanding an answer, sticking him in the chest with a finely manicured finger once more.
What the man did next, nearly floored the poor girl for what felt like the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours. He smirked.
That damn infuriating smirk again!
Before she could repeat her question, the Survey Corps member grabbed the finger that was currently poking his chest, pushing her hand down while the infuriating smirk on his face only grew bigger.
"No," He said simply, as though he had not a care in the world. Petra could tell by the challenge in his eyes that he was eagerly waiting to see how she would respond.
Almost as though it was a game to him. Well, Petra was perfectly ready to play.
Pulling her hand out of his hold, the woman crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at him as he continued to smirk down at her. While he had shaken her the day before, she had become familiar enough with him to know that he only seemed to respond positively to her when she was actively challenging him.
What was he - a masochist?
“Lucky for you I have a wide array of crackers to offer you.” Petra smiled sweetly, watching as the man’s brows rose at the sound of her tone. “What would your flavor of choice be - cheese or peanut butter?”
“Neither, I - ,”
“Oh!” She cut him off, tapping him once again on the chest, knowing that this seemed to annoy him greatly just a few moments ago. “I’m sorry but ‘neither’ doesn’t seem to be a flavor - try again!”
The man's brows rose even higher at her continued teasing. "What if I'm allergic to peanut butter and cheese?"
Petra was anticipating such an answer, her arms once again crossing over her chest as she puffed it out with pride, knowing that this was an argument she had already won. "Then I guess I get to pick your poison."
They stared at each other in silence, neither intending to back down. Finally, the older Ackerman broke.
The man chuckled. Not a pity chuckle, either - but a real, amused chuckle. Though it may have been quiet, Petra couldn't conceal the pride that swelled up in her chest at having broken through at least one of the man's self-made barriers.
They didn't call her the best nurse for nothing!
"Alright, alright…" He finally conceded, no longer chuckling - but still keeping that mysterious smirk on his face. "I'll eat something, but no crackers."
Petra’s brow rose at this. “Why not? Isn’t that the most universal snack there is?”
“They’re too messy.”
The woman had to stop herself from giggling at the look of annoyance that passed over the man’s face. It seemed they at least had one thing in common - Petra absolutely hated a mess.
“An apple?”
The man shrugged noncommittally. Petra took this as confirmation that the fruit would do.
“Daddy?”
The feeble call from the bed had both of the adults turning, their eyes falling on the once slumbering girl who still lay propped up against the pillows. Though she had only said one word, Petra could tell from the look on her face that she had been woken from her sleep by some kind of pain.
The girl’s father hummed in response, acknowledging that he had heard her. Not wasting a moment and with a new pep in his step from his smoke break, the Survey Corps member approached his daughter’s bedside, placing his tea down by the glass of juice that still lay on the bedside table.
It was when the girl glanced over at the juice and then at the door, that she noticed the short nurse who was also now standing in her room. Petra liked to imagine that the girl’s face had lit up a bit at the sight of her, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think that it was anything other than the prospect of juice that had her glowing.
Heidi, much like her father though, surprised her.
"Hi, Miss Petra," The girl said in that sweet tone of her, her words still shy, but definitely more confident than from the night before. "Is it time for my medicine?"
Petra smiled in encouragement, joining the girl’s father at the side of her bed. “Yes, it is. Are you in any pain?”
Once again, the child looked up at her father - but, instead of waiting for some kind of input from him, she turned back to the nurse and answered for herself.
“Just a little.”
While her answer was not nearly as descriptive as Petra would have liked, the woman knew that this was probably the best she was going to get out of the child. With a tough-as-nails father by her side, the little girl was never going to give a true indication of how she was truly feeling. To do so would be to admit defeat in her eyes.
It was sad to an extent, but having grown up with a single dad herself - something she was assuming based on the fact that Petra had yet to see a mother stop by for a visit to Heidi's room - she knew how important it was to show them that their little girls were strong enough to handle themselves.
Petra’s respect for the precocious five-year-old just continued to grow as she spent more time with her.
After the nurse had given the girl her pills and had made sure that they went down easily, she reviewed Heidi’s vitals one more time before promising to return in the next hour.
Before she could make it out the door though, she turned to face the girl’s father one last time.
“I’ll be bringing you an apple, Mr. Ackerman,” She called back to him, watching as his gaze drifted upwards to meet her’s. “- and I’ll be expecting you to eat it.”
“Levi.”
The response was so quick and unexpected that it had Petra quieting immediately. Seeing the look of confusion written across her face, one side of the man's mouth quirked up in a half-smile. He sighed, shaking his head before closing his eyes in exasperation.
When he opened them again, there was a softer look there than there had been before.
“My name’s Levi. Stop it with that Mr. Ackerman stuff.”
Even Heidi chuckled from her place in the bed at the sound of such a formal name for her father. Once Petra had collected her wits, she gave a short nod in response.
"Levi, then."
Without wasting another second, the woman turned from the room - shutting the door close with more force than what she had intended to.
Her face was burning as she walked away from the room - and for the first time since she had been assigned to the patient in Room 325 - it wasn't from shame.
-
It was nearly an hour and a half later that she was finally able to return to Heidi’s room to check on the girl. With an apple in hand, the woman pushed open the door quietly, just in case the little girl had happened to fall back asleep.
The scene that lay before her, had her pausing in the open doorway in wonder.
Levi Ackerman was sitting. Not only was he sitting, but he was reading - and from a children’s book, nonetheless!
The white bag from earlier lay at his feet, the contents of it having been removed. While it had been puffed up quite large only an hour before, it now sat deflated on the cold tile of the hospital floor. Petra couldn't imagine that a few children's books from the gift shop would make a bag look that full, and she was right to assume that.
The reason the bag had looked so full was currently resting in the happy little hands of one Miss Heidi Ackerman in the form of a very large, stuffed teddy bear.
"Then Mr. Owl asked Mr. Bear if he could borrow a few - ," Petra listened to the smooth voice of the man who had nearly made her cry the day before, no rudeness left in his tone as he read to a very captive audience.
"Daddy, why would he ask to borrow something that he could never give back?' Heidi asked from her hospital bed, fully engaged in the story. Whether it was consciously or not, she hugged her bear a little tighter to herself as she turned onto her side to regard her father.
The man gave her a small, patient smile. "It's an expression, Heidi. Mr. Owl is going to eat the carrots, of course - so I'm sure hoping he's not planning on regurgitating them and giving them back to Mr. Bear. Mr. Bear is letting Mr. Owl have something without the guarantee of ever receiving it back or something in return."
“Then it’s not borrowing.”
Her father shrugged, his eyes turning back to the page in front of him. "Not really, I guess."
Before the man could pick up where he'd left off - Heidi cut him off once more.
“Daddy, I don’t think owls actually eat carrots.”
“Are you going to let me finish the story, brat?” The man gazed at her over the top of the book, annoyance creeping into his tone after having been interrupted for the second time. “Or do I need to read from the dictionary in order to please you?”
While Petra had been shocked when he had referred to his daughter as "brat" the night before, she would have to be deaf to not hear the endearment that lay hidden in his tone. He said it so gently - as though it was meant as an affectionate tease more than an insult.
Heidi certainly wasn’t offended by it if her sweet little laugh was any indication of how she was feeling.
“Daddy!” She whined, hugging her bear even tighter. “No dictionary! I want animal stories!”
“Then sit back and enjoy the damn book, instead of overanalyzing everything.”
Heidi’s eyes widened in shock, her small mouth forming an ‘o’ at her father’s choice of words. “Daddy, you swore.”
The man twisted his lips, trying his best to hide his face behind the children's book that he held in his hands.
“I heard you! You’re going to have to put change in the swear jar at home!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Heidi smiled brightly at her father. "Nuh-uh, it's a deal! I'm going to be rich!"
“Heidi,” Levi raised one dark brow towards the girl, his tone darkening with warning as she continued to get louder. “You need to be quiet.”
At her father’s admonishment, the child’s face fell, her bright smile falling swiftly off her features. Petra made a movement to jump in - anything to bring that sweet expression back to the darling girl’s face - but was stopped by the man’s voice chiming in once again.
“ - and besides, you only have two dollars. That’s barely enough to call yourself rich.”
While most children would have balked at Levi's use of blunt humor, Heidi - who must have been used to it by now - began to giggle once more, the bright smile from just moments before, returning to her face. Petra was even surprised to find that the man was wearing one of his own now.
"It's almost enough to buy a chocolate bar." Heidi insisted as if the candy was the most precious thing in the world.
Petra had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from laughing out loud. From her spot in the doorway, the nurse's shoulders trembled in quiet amusement. This little girl was something else - and, from what she had seen over the past few minutes, so was her father.
"Now you see, Miss Ral?" The question had her pausing mid-shake, her amusement slowly fading now that she had been caught. "I told you sweets would be her downfall."
Petra could feel her cheeks heating up. She had just been caught eavesdropping - how unprofessional could she be?
Opening the door all the way, the woman stepped fully into the room, apple still in hand. While Heidi certainly seemed to quiet as the woman entered the room, the smile on her face did not fade.
While she had thought the older Ackerman would look at her in contempt for having the gall to eavesdrop on him, during what she would call a very intimate family moment, he instead looked over at her with a slight quirk in his brow.
“ - and eavesdropping will be yours.”
Without saying another word, the man placed the children’s book on top of the bedside table, where Petra could now see an entire stack had been laid. Next to it, a small cat plush sat, almost as though watching over the mountain of books that now stood beside it. Before the nurse could make any comments in regards to his gift shop purchases, the man stuck out his hand.
Petra just stared at him in confusion.
Levi gave her a less than impressed look. “My apple, Miss Ral?”
If Petra had thought her face had been burning before, it was nothing compared to now.
-
A few hours passed uneventfully in the pediatric ward. That was one thing Petra had always enjoyed about the night shift - there was a certain calm in the air that seemed to hang over the 3rd floor of the hospital. A child would cry out in pain, only to be shushed a few moments later by comfort or medicine - or a buzzer would go off, signaling that someone needed assistance.
Other than that, the ward pretty much always stayed quiet in the late night to early morning hours of the day and Room 325 was no exception to this.
Heidi was snoozing peacefully as Petra made her rounds once again to check on the girl. After having received her last dose of medication until morning, the girl had lost her battle against sleep. She had fought valiantly - wanting to stay up and continue listening to the stories being told by her father - but after several hours and retellings of the same stories over and over, she was finally out for the night.
While Petra hated to disturb the girl's sleep, it was pertinent that she clean her wound every few hours to keep the infection from setting in. Though the girl was already taking oral antibiotics, the nurse knew that it was better to be safe than sorry when it came to wounds.
In an attempt to be as stealthy as possible, Petra quietly entered the dimly lit room of Heidi Ackerman, careful not to make any noise as she closed the door behind her.
Giving her eyes time to adjust to the lack of lighting in the room, Petra squinted while looking over at the chair.
There sat Levi, bloody clothes and all, by his daughter's bed and still wide awake despite his obvious exhaustion. Petra had given up hours ago on telling him to get some sleep, learning quickly that even without an injured child the man was a terrible insomniac.
However, she couldn't help but be concerned when it came to the man's state of mind. How on earth was he supposed to tend to his child when he wasn't willing to rest himself?
"Oi, stop lurking in the doorway." A ragged voice called from the chair, his eyes never drifting from Heidi's face. Even without looking, he seemed to just know she was there. it must have been a Survey Corps thing. “She’s out for the night, so there’s no need to sneak around as if the smallest noise is going to wake her up.”
Petra blushed at the call-out, stepping fully into the dim light of the room, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to change her bandages."
The man grunted in acknowledgment, shrugging his shoulders. "It can't be helped. Several more hours of reading from 'Mr. Owl's Adventures' sounds like a decent penance to me."
Though Petra found herself chuckling at the man's dry wit, she couldn't help but notice the strain in his voice that spoke of some underlying guilt she was not privy to. Trying to lighten the mood, she moved closer to Heidi's bedside, bandages already in hand and a soft smile on her features.
"Count yourself lucky," The woman bristled, reaching into her pocket for a disinfectant wipe. "You could be changing dirty bandages and bedpans for the rest of the night. I think I would choose Mr. Owl over that, any day."
While she hadn't expected the man to laugh at her remark, she wasn't expecting him to sober so quickly either.
He watched as she placed the packet of disinfectant wipes down on the table, her hands moving to the bandages to ready them for placement. The night before, she had found his gaze unnerving - now, however, he seemed to be pondering her actions more than looking for something that she was doing wrong.
“Could you show me how to change her bandages?”
Petra couldn't hide the shock that flooded her features at the quiet request. The words were spoken so softly that she questioned whether she had even heard them.
“Huh?” She heard herself ask, pausing mid-action.
Levi's face held its usual passive expression - but, when Petra looked closely, she could see the skin of his neck turning red underneath the hairs of his undercut.
The man was blushing.
Petra had little time to be amazed before he was speaking again.
"I tried watching you last night and when the nurse did it this morning," The man confessed, his voice tight as though he felt ashamed for admitting it. "But I want to make sure I know how to do it right since I'm the one who's going to be doing it at home."
Suddenly, his attentiveness to her actions during her prior shift made a lot more sense.
While she had thought he had been watching her closely to see if she made any mistakes while changing Heidi's bandages, he was really just trying to learn how to do it himself. So the reason he must have been so grouchy when she had made that one mistake, was because he was frustrated not only with her but with himself for having to seek out someone's help.
Man, she had misjudged him terribly in that moment.
Knowing that it was hard for the man to admit he needed guidance - Petra gave him a small but encouraging smile.
"I can show you," The woman gestured for him to come closer to the bed so that he could see better. "This is the perfect time, actually since I'm going to be doing it really slow, so that we don't wake her."
Petra tried to calm the furious beating of her heart as the man rose from his chair and made his way over to her side. This was the closest she had ever been to him, even closer than when she had gotten up in his face earlier. From this vantage point, she could see the dark stubble that now lined his cheeks and the puffy bags that seemed to permanently reside under his eyes.
The man was starting to look a bit ragged. However, no amount of exhaustion could dull the look of determination in his eyes.
Petra took her time, carefully peeling back the bandages that sat across Heidi's abdomen. Levi watched closely as she worked her finger under the sticky material at a particularly irritated patch of skin. While Heidi mumbled a few incoherent words in her sleep and turned her head to the side in agitation, she remained unconscious as Petra continued to work on her wound.
The nurse quietly explained proper wound care, as she cleaned around the stitches that lay on the girl's stomach. Levi nodded in acknowledgment to each of her points, his steely gaze never leaving her hands.
The whole process took about ten minutes, much longer than usual, but Petra felt like it had taken a hundred years.
The man was just so close and it was distracting.
Despite being flustered by his proximity and rapt attention, Petra was able to successfully clean and re-bandage the wound.
She ripped the end of the last piece of tape needed for the girl's skin, gently patting it down with soft pressing motions. "So, that's all there is to it."
Levi nodded, the wheels in his head turning as he tried to internalize everything he had just seen.
It struck Petra as odd that he needed such guidance from her when his line of work surely included some bumps and nicks over time. Almost as if he could guess her train of thought, the man answered her unspoken question.
"I've had to treat my own wounds before," He admitted quietly, eyes glued to the area of Heidi's stomach where her injury lay. " - but I've never had to treat a child's. I just want to make sure I do it right."
Petra gave him a sympathetic smile, placing the roll of tape back on the table. "It really isn't that much different from dressing your own wounds."
Levi's eyes darkened at her words, his tone shifting. "It is different."
The young woman watched as the man's eyes drifted back up to Heidi's peaceful face, her small pink lips opened in an 'o' as little breaths escaped between them. From a hardened gaze, the Survey Corps member's eyes softened at the sight of his slumbering daughter.
“What happened?”
Petra didn't know what had come over her, but at the man's words and expression, she couldn't help but speak out of curiosity. While the girl's file had said she had been cut by a blade that had been laced with poison, it hadn't said any more than that. She figured that Heidi had been caught up in a crossfire, but she couldn't be too sure.
She wanted to know what had caused her patient so much pain - and she also wanted to know what it was that was causing the girl's father so much guilt.
Petra had not expected much in ways of a response, figuring that the man would tell her to mind her own business. She was surprised when, instead of snapping at her in anger, Levi sighed and crossed his arms over his chest in defeat. She could see his reluctance to share in the rigid way he stood, but could also see in the way he rolled his lips inwards, that there was a part of him that wanted to tell someone what happened.
"They broke into my home when it wasn't there." The man admitted quietly, a quick rush of breath leaving him as he resigned himself to share with Petra the details behind the incident. "Heidi knows not to open the door to strangers, so when they came knocking, she hid - but they knew she was there. They had been watching."
"The Titans?" Petra asked in a whisper. Levi nodded.
"I've always known that I was a big target for them - almost as big as Erwin himself - but I never thought they would go after my own daughter." Levi released a dark chuckle at this, closing his eyes in disbelief. 'I can't believe my stupidity. The Titans have cut down families before, I don't know what made me think that mine would be any different."
The man sighed, his eyes cutting back to his daughter’s face. “One of my men had heard through our line of communication that The Titans were planning on laying siege to my house - however, it had been kept under wraps for as long as possible to keep the plan from getting back to me.”
Levi's face darkened, his thin lips pressing together as his eyes took on a faraway look - like he was being transported back in time.
"Unlucky for them," The man continued, his tone growing terser as time went on. "I found out and was able to intercept the attack."
Petra watched as the man’s focus drew back to the present, his steely gaze never leaving his daughter. “But not before Heidi could get hurt.”
Levi ran a single hand through his hair, the action causing the arm of his jacket to rise and the ‘Wings of Freedom’ tattoo to be exposed.
"There were six of them at the house," Levi admitted, not even pausing when this information called forth a gasp from Petra. "I cut down every single one of them."
At the dark look on his face, the nurse could feel herself gulp in fear. The same intimidating man whom she had encountered the night before during her first shift was suddenly making an appearance once again. His behavior - however, made more sense now. He had been reticent and ready to snap, not just because his daughter had been injured, but because he had just murdered six men.
Petra also realized that the blood that lay splattered across the man’s white shirt was, more than likely, not just Heidi's. While the news had Petra suppressing a shiver, she didn't interrupt him as he continued with his story.
"When I realized the blade had been laced with poison, I rushed Heidi here." He glanced over at her now, his gaze watching her carefully as he analyzed her reaction. "Then a few hours later, we met you."
Petra didn't know what to say - half of her had expected the story to be something like that, but also half of her wishing it hadn't. She was outright conflicted.
"She had been alone?" She heard herself ask through the whooshing in her ears. Her head was spinning from all the new information.
Levi nodded. "I can't afford to send her anywhere. She's always alone."
Though Petra tried to hide her surprise, she couldn't conceal it quick enough for his all-seeing eyes.
"She has no mother." Levi admitted though Petra had deduced as much. "The woman dropped her off on my doorstep years ago without so much as a word - so I'm all she has."
"That's horrible." While it was an understatement, to be sure, it was all Petra could think of in response. At least it was able to draw a dry chuckle from the man.
“I guess you could say that.”
Not knowing how to dispel the tension that currently lay in the air, Petra turned to continue cleaning up the used bandages from the side table, disposing of them in the trash while she continued to think of what to say.
Noticing her unease, Levi sighed. "I didn't tell you all of this to make you feel awkward. You did ask, you know?"
"I don't feel awkward!" Petra insisted although she knew it was a fib. She rolled up the gauze that she had neglected to use while trying to choose her words carefully. "I'm just not sure what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," The man said, walking back around to the other side of the bed. His eyes drifted to the children's books that lay stacked on the side of the bed. "It's the ways things are and the way they will always be. All I can do is ensure that none of my decisions from here on out will infringe on her safety.'
Petra nodded. “I guess you're right.”
The room was quiet as Petra continued to bustle about. She fluffed Heidi's pillows a few more times, before reviewing the young girl's vitals. She didn't know what it was, but despite the tense atmosphere that lay heavy over the room, she really didn't want to leave.
No matter what she wanted though, she knew she had other patients to see.
Before she left, a thought came to her as she reached for the handle on the door. She remembered at the start of her shift that Levi had only taken leave of his daughter's room when Petra was guaranteed to be there and keep watch. The circumstance had Petra pausing.
Was that why he hadn’t bothered to go home and change yet?
Petra could see that the man needed a good shower and a fresh pair of clothes - but, after hearing about what happened, she highly doubted he was willing to leave the hospital while his daughter was still in such a vulnerable state.
She didn’t know what came over her, but suddenly she was speaking.
“I get off in a few hours. Do you want me to sit with Heidi while you go home and change?”
Her offer caused the man to turn his head, his eyes gazing at her warily. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know you probably need your rest.”
Petra shook her head. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing.”
"I couldn't -,"
"No offense," Petra finally said, her arms crossing over her chest in an act of defiance. " - but you are starting to look rough.”
This caused one side of the man’s mouth to quirk up. “I’m just now starting to? I thought surely when I walked in covered in blood yesterday that I looked about as rough as I could.”
“Well, then I guess you’ve been proven wrong.”
Levi shook his head. “I’m not leaving. Besides, I have nowhere to go. My home is a crime scene, remember?”
"You can use my apartment." The words had left Petra's mouth before she even had time to think. At the suggestion, she could feel her face heating up, but she continued speaking anyway. "Go at least take a shower - please."
This had the man's brows raising to his hairline.
"You would let a man who just murdered six people take a shower in your home?"
Petra shrugged. “Yeah, I mean as long as you promise not to mess with anything.”
“You’re damned crazy.”
"Yeah, maybe," Petra conceded, but her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. "But it's better than being stinky. I'm going to get a shirt from the lost and found for you to take. My shift is over in three hours, so try to at least get some rest before it's my turn to watch Heidi."
Without waiting for a response, Petra exited the room in a flurry of white fabric and frazzled nerves, missing the smirk that followed her actions as she hurriedly exited through the door.
- True to her word, Petra had returned to Heidi's room after clocking out. The woman handed the older Ackerman a piece of paper with her address, a key, and a plain white t-shirt - before practically pushing him out of the room.
Not allowing any chance of negotiation, Petra slammed the door behind him, fighting the urge to actually lock it.
Now fully awake, Heidi giggled at the sight of the young woman bossing her otherwise intimidating father around. The sound had Petra smiling, too. Though she was tired, she was looking forward to spending a bit of downtime with the girl.
During the hour and a half that Levi was gone, Petra learned many things about Miss Heidi Ackerman.
She was born in late September and couldn't wait for the Summer to be over so that she could finally be six. Her favorite thing to learn about was animals - hence, why her father always bought her stories with animal characters rather than humans. She had named the big teddy bear her father had gotten her, Felix, after a cat character with the same name that existed in one of the storybooks her dad had once read to her.
While it wasn’t new information, Petra was struck once again by how intelligent the little girl was.
Heidi shared with her the process of her daily routine - how she woke up in the morning to find a bowl of cereal already sitting ready for her at the table. Though her father was usually gone by this time, he always left a note telling her what time he would be home and reminded her to never open the door to strangers. After reading the note, she would do a few chores around the house - she loved sweeping - and even had her own little broom that matched her father's so that on the weekends they could clean the floors together.
While Petra imagined such an existence would be a sad one - being all alone in a house all day, especially, at such a young age - Heidi didn't seem particularly bothered by it.
"When Daddy gets home in the afternoon, he always cooks me something yummy for dinner," Heidi's voice held all the wonderment of a child, who was properly spoiled by her father. "Uncle Erwin even sometimes comes over and eats with us. He can toss me up in the air really high! Higher than Daddy!"
Petra found herself chuckling at this. “Oh, really?”
Heidi nodded excitedly, her cheeks flushed from the conversation and probably what was still a bit of residual pain. Despite this, she continued chatting as though she couldn't be bothered.
Petra felt her heart warm as the girl slowly began to open up more and more to her - remembering how quiet she had been during the first time she had attended to her.
It was as though the child that sat before her now was a completely different person from the one before. While she could probably blame some of that on the young girl's injury - a bigger portion of it was just that it probably took the girl time to warm up to people.
‘Much like her father,’ Petra supposed.
By the time Levi returned, both his daughter and the nurse were sat up in the hospital bed, the scene causing him to pause in the doorway.
Petra had sat herself behind Heidi, allowing the girl to lean back on her legs and chest in a reclining position. The nurse’s hands were working through the girl’s hair, her deft fingers twirling the long dark strands into a simple braid.
“I’ve always wanted a braid!” Heidi shared, squeezing her bear close to her chest. “I’m so excited! I hope it looks pretty.”
“Oh, it looks very pretty," Petra insisted, her light, chestnut eyes finally drifting towards the man that stood in the door. Her lips quirked up in a small smirk. "Doesn't it, Mr. Levi?"
Fighting the urge to groan at the use of mister before his name, the man closed the door to the hallway behind him before stepping fully into the room. "Oh yes - very pretty."
At his insistence, Heidi giggled - her little cheeks flushed now from the compliments.
Once the girl was situated back on her pillows - chatting with her bear about all the hairstyles she'd like to try to learn to do in the future - Petra turned to Heidi's dad, giving him a smile of appreciation.
Instead of wearing the t-shirt she had retrieved from him, he was wearing a dark blue one with the hospital logo that they sold in the gift shop. The woman had to smirk when she saw that.
"What are you - a germaphobe?" She couldn't help but ask, remembering the wary look he had had on his face when she had handed the used t-shirt over. Though she couldn't blame him, being very particular about things like that herself, she couldn't hold back a laugh.
Levi shrugged. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
They stood there for a few silent beats, the only sound between them being that of Heidi's quiet voice as she chatted to Felix, the teddy bear. Finally, Levi pulled his hand out of his pocket, her key shining in his hand.
Petra held out her hand to receive it.
"Thank you for your hospitality." The man drawled, placing the object in the middle of her palm, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips. "Your lodgings were adequate enough, I guess."
After having heard from Heidi herself in the past hour of how her dad was a self-proclaimed 'clean freak' - the woman was not surprised at such a comment. In fact, knowing what she did now, it made her quietly chuckle.
“I’m glad.”
Petra called over her shoulder to Heidi that she would be back on the night shift in just a few hours, the girl happily waved at her as the woman made her way to the door. Knowing that she only had one more 12-hour shift for the week, the young nurse moved with a slight bounce in her step.
The realization that she probably only had one more night to spend with Heidi and her father had her pausing though.
Shaking her head, she attempted to rid her mind of the thought. She wasn't one to get attached to her patients and she definitely wouldn't start now.
Still, there was something in her heart that tugged every time she thought of Heidi’s sweet little face. Not only that, but the tug worsened every time she thought of Levi’s.
‘I need some sleep,’ She lamented to herself as she continued her way down the stairs.
Yes, sleep was all she needed.
-
Upon arriving on the 3rd floor for her fourth shift of the week, but third with Heidi, Petra was surprised to see the one and only, Erwin Smith exiting the room of her favorite patient.
She guessed she shouldn't be surprised by the appearance of the blonde man - given how much Heidi talked about him - however, what did surprise her was the grave expression present on his features. While not one to fear the worst, the furrow between his brows and the thin line of his lips had her heart sinking, just a bit.
After confirming with the day nurse that nothing had changed in Heidi's condition, Petra was able to breathe easier. Apparently, in the last hour, Dr. Shadis had even cleared the girl to return home whenever she pleased - however, both the Commander and Levi had convinced the doctor to extend her hospital stay by one day.
The day nurse said she had no idea what the reasoning was behind it but Petra had a good idea.
‘My home is a crime scene.’ Levi had said earlier in response to her pressures for him to go home and shower. The truth of the matter was, Petra feared that neither Levi nor Heidi had anywhere to go.
With that in mind, she entered the girl's room for her first round of medication with a slight hesitance in her gait.
Whatever nerves she had been feeling though dissipated at the sight of Heidi's joyful face.
"Miss Petra!" The girl exclaimed from her place in bed, arms wrapped around her teddy bear and now a large monkey plushie too. "Look what Uncle Erwin brought me!"
The woman was about to respond when a sort of grumbling coming from the direction of the chair caught her attention. Levi had his chin in his hand, his eyes glaring at the plush kitty that still sat on the bedside table untouched. Petra could see a hint of jealousy in his actions.
Dare she call it - adorable?
Though his mutterings weren't all that caught the woman's attention. The man had a whole new change of clothes on, the hospital t-shirt now stuffed away in the white bag that lay by his feet.
The commander must have brought him an extra pair of clothes.
Realizing that she hadn't ever answered Heidi's cheer, Petra smiled at the child who lay in the hospital bed. "Well isn't that a lovely surprise?"
Heidi nodded excitedly, hugging her plushies closer to her. “I think I’m going to name him Beast.”
"That's a lovely name," The nurse agreed, laughing quietly as she watched the girl's father roll his eyes. Despite the current levity in the atmosphere, the woman knew she wasn't going to be able to keep her mouth shut much longer.
Placing the cup of juice she had brought with her down on the bedside table, she busied herself preparing Heidi’s medication as she thought of how to brooch the topic.
“So, I heard Heidi’s been cleared to return home?”
Levi was silent for a moment, but she soon heard a grunt behind her. “It would appear that way.”
“I heard Dr. Shadis approved her for one more night in our care?”
Levi hummed in response, not saying anything more as the woman continued to arrange the pills. Her hands paused as she got to Heidi’s sleep medication.
“Will you be staying with Commander Erwin?”
At her question, the man remained silent - watching as Petra assisted Heidi with taking her pills. Always a brave patient, the girl barely grimaced as the nasty medication tumbled down her throat. When it was all over, the five-year-old simply laid back on her pillows, picking up right where she left off with her two stuffed animals.
It took Levi so long to respond that Petra figured he wouldn't say anything more on the subject - however, his quiet answer came soon enough, a sort of bitterness in his tone.
"No, we can't," He spat out, a rare show of his old reticence shining through. Petra could tell that it wasn't directed at her, though - it was more so in response to the situation. "Erwin thinks it's a bad idea for us to stay with anyone who's a part of the Survey Corps. If they had my address, who's to say they don't have any others?"
Petra had guessed this was the case by the way Commander Erwin had looked upon leaving the room. It was the look of a man who was used to solving problems, who just couldn't seem to solve this one.
Levi continued, missing the pensive look that settled across Petra's features. "He's trying to find somewhere cheap that we could stay, but at the end of the day, the Corps don't receive much funding. I barely make enough to pay for the place we have now and I'm still going to have to pay for it until my lease is up."
“You don’t think you’ll be able to go back after everything is cleaned up?” Petra asked, the wheels still turning in her head. Levi released a dry chuckle at the suggestion.
"I'm not going to make the brat stay in a home where she was almost killed. I may be a monster, but even I have more compassion than that." He spoke quietly, aware that Heidi was still very much awake and able to hear their conversation.
"There's no one you could reach out to and stay with?"
Levi laughed bitterly, once again. "The only people I know are either a part of the Survey Corps or thugs themselves, my options are pretty slim."
Petra nodded, quietly mulling over his words.
After a few moments, she made the offer she had entered the room willing to make.
“Why don’t you stay with me?”
Levi's brows rose, a look of mild shock commanding his features. Feeling uneasy from his reaction, Petra began to ramble in order to fill the awkward silence.
“I mean -,” She cleared her throat, hating how the words had come out as a mere squeak. “You said my lodgings were adequate, right?”
"Well, yes. But -,"
"I certainly wouldn't mind it - and you wouldn't have to pay me rent or anything! All I would need is maybe a little bit of money for groceries since I barely have any - and - uh - and I'm barely home anyway since I work so much, so it would probably be just like living alone!" The words left Petra in a rush, her brain working faster than her mouth as she tried to convince him that this option wouldn't be so bad. "I'm a pretty clean person, so you wouldn't have to worry about -,"
“Could you shut your damn mouth for a second?!”
The low growl of his voice had Petra pausing mid-ramble, her mouth hanging open as the man in the chair cleared his throat, in an attempt to get emotions back under control.
When he spoke again, his tone was even, incredulity evident in his words. "You really expect me to accept such charity?"
Petra closed her mouth, shrugging meekly. “I mean, do you have any other options?”
"Yeah, the street." The nurse found herself rolling her eyes at his words.
"What happened to not allowing any danger to fall upon your daughter again?" Petra asked, remembering their conversation from before. While the man's eyes flashed in anger at her implication, the woman didn't stop there. "Do you really think the safest place for your daughter currently is on the streets?”
The man was silent again.
“I can’t pay you.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“I hate charity.”
"This isn't charity." Petra insisted, meeting his steely gaze with one of her own. "I'm honestly being selfish. I don't think I could sleep at night knowing that the two of you ended up on the streets when I could have helped.'
“Why would you do that for people you barely know?”
"I don't know," Petra answered, honestly - her eyes drifting to where Heidi lay still unaware of the serious conversation taking place next to her. "But something inside of me is telling me that it's the right thing to do."
Levi stared at her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"So you would offer up your home to two strangers just because your heart is telling you to?”
While his comment was snide, Petra refused to back down. "And you would offer up your life to a cause that will most likely get you killed in the end? It seems like neither of us is very responsible when it comes to where our hearts lie."
The man couldn’t argue with that.
The room descended into a suffocating silence for a few moments, before Levi spoke again.
"What about Heidi?" He asked. "She stays home alone all day. Are you okay with a child residing by themselves in your apartment?"
"Not really," Petra admitted, though she had already thought about this. "But my friend who lives down the hall runs a daycare out of her home. I'm sure if I explained the circumstances, she would be willing to make an exception and let Heidi stay with her when you or I can't be at home."
Levi sighed, realizing she had thought this out a lot more than he had expected. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”
“Nope.” Petra smiled brightly, knowing that he was close to admitting defeat.
The man looked once more towards his daughter, who was now rubbing her tired eyes as she tried to win the battle against sleep.
“Fine.” He begrudgingly agreed, refusing to make eye contact with the now ecstatic ginger.
"Perfect!" The woman nearly exclaimed with glee - however, she kept her reaction quiet, aware of the presence of Heidi who was almost in the throes of sleep. "Leave all the planning to me. Heidi was cleared to stay one more night - so, once I finish my shift, I'll go home and get everything prepared for her discharge tomorrow afternoon."
Levi nodded, still not exactly happy about the situation.
"Don't think you're going to be able to stand around and mope, either," Petra warned, pulling the blanket up higher on Heidi's chest, the girl finally losing the battle against her eyelids. "I'm doing this because I want to, so I won't have you feeling guilty.
Levi shook his head, a smirk appearing on his features. "You're crazy."
"Maybe," Petra shrugged.
After picking up the empty glass of juice from the girl's bedside, Petra decided to take her leave, ready to attend to her other patients.
Before leaving the room, she turned back towards Levi, still sat in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest.
"We're going to figure this out," Petra assured him as she exited the room, smiling as he turned his face towards her - a look of apprehension on his features. "You, me, and Heidi - it'll work, I promise."
Though his answering smirk was tired, Petra could see that maybe - just maybe - he was starting to believe her.
#levi ackerman#petra ral#rivetra#attack on titan#aot#shingeki no kyojin#snk#fanfiction#my fanfiction#rivetra au
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Hello again from the anon who sent the first ask about childhood friends Billy crushing on Steve and venting to his mother. You wrote it amazingly, by the way. I would love to see Steve chasing after Billy in the next part, rather than the other way around. Maybe he doesn’t understand why Billy’s been distant and he misses him. I’m not sure if the timeline is accurate but it could be around the time Steve suspects her of having something with Jonathan so he feels very alone and sad and misses his best friend and Billy wants to cry all over again.
part 1 2
billy wakes up the next morning with the weight of his worries pressing into his chest. in comparison, the weight of his secret has been carefully lifted off his shoulders by his mother and was being kept and cradled with the upmost care.
he was left with a list of chores sitting on the dining table and another note reminding him to pick up his extra work from the school.
before even looking a the list of chores, billy did the bare minimum to make himself look ready enough for the day and made his way to the school.
getting his assignments for his last four periods was easy, they were sitting with the receptionist in a little red folder, but his first period, mrs. kelman, hadn’t given hers in yet.
the secretary, being the lazy ass she is, just waved billy through to go to her room and grab the assignments.
her room, of course, was one of the farthest points from the front entrance of the school, so billy power walked most of the way there, wanting to get out of there before he saw someone—a specific someone—and they started asking questions.
knocking on the door once he’d reached it, mrs. kelman came to answer it, muttering something about him being a heathen and a pain in her ass, but billy didn’t care.
because how could he be so dumb? really, you’re friends with a guy your entire life and forget you share the same first period? and you couldn’t wait another thirty minutes to get your assignments?
god, billy wants to shove his finger in the pencil sharpener.
“you’ve got a book?”
billy is staring out the windows of the back of the classroom when he hears mrs. kelman clear her throat, “do you have your book at home?”
with a small cough, billy assures her his copy of the book is at his house. she proceeds to explain the worksheets in detail while handing him, not one, not two, not three, but four packets of work pages he needs to complete ‘by tuesday, if not, i don’t care what you did do, it’s all a zero.’ psycho bitch.
billy, red folder and packets in hand, practically struts out of the classroom before she can come up with any more work to give him.
he’s not yet half way down the hallway when he hears shoes squeaking behind him, his name being called in a voice he really wants to ignore.
“billy, dude, you didn’t answer my calls last night,”
“went to bed early,” billy responded, not caring to turn around or stop walking. nevertheless, steve caught up to him, rushing to block billy’s path.
“well then, talk to me now, what happened yesterday? you haven’t been the same recently, i’m worried,” steve practically begs billy as they finally stop in the hallway.
“i have chores and about fifty pages of work i need to get started on, steve, so if you don’t mind...” billy stepped to walk away but steve grabbed his elbow.
billy’s packets and papers went down to the floor. “ok, i’m sorry about that, but why won’t you talk to me? and what’s with full naming me? you never call me ‘steve!’”
billy bent down to grab at the papers and shove them into his red folder, cradling them in his arms, “well, steve, sometimes people change and you may never know why. maybe they don’t fit in your life the way you thought they did, maybe you finally see the things the way you probably should have seen them all along,” billy scoffed, “have fun at the party tonight, steve,”
as billy walked off, steve felt sick to his stomach. billy was sarcastic and dry most of the time, but never to steve. with steve, there was never the underlying tone of annoyance there was at school and billy never rushed to get away from anyone, at least not this desperately.
steve was off for the rest of the day. it was hard not to notice the constant fidgeting and how he’d stare off into space in gym, the only class he really liked or actively participated in.
by the end of the day, his fifth period (a class he shared with nancy) steve was completely shut down.
wasn’t listening to the teacher or responding to either nancy or tommy’s attempts at getting his attention. he was just thinking about billy. about what he said. how he said it.
that emphasis on how people ‘don’t fit in your life’ and how angry billy was while saying it. how honest the words sounded coming out of his mouth, like he spoke with his entire chest and wanted steve to hear every single word for what it was.
but steve was never good at dissecting literature and hidden meanings, all he knew was what’s at face value.
and billy’s speech at face value was just a message that billy no longer wanted steve in his life. that he had moved on to bigger, better things.
but this, this felt like something his english teacher would scold him for not seeing the depth to.
and steve worried. worried his way through the rest of the day and into the next. worried all through the friday night party and the weekend. worried the monday billy was still suspended.
worried the entire week while billy was back. while billy still wasn’t talking to him or acknowledging him or even fucking looking at him.
steve had thrown himself into nancy that week, been driving her to school and home every day and had taken her on a date twice on school nights.
both times, without realizing, they’d ended up at the diner billy’s mom worked, the one billy would bus tables for in his free time to make a little extra money.
the first day, a tuesday, they’d been served by the diner lady herself, and steve had chatted like they were old friends.
neither mentioned billy, who was clearly seen in the window to the kitchen cleaning dishes.
the second day, a thursday, steve and nancy had come after the movies to get milkshakes. steve got vanilla and nancy got strawberry.
they didn’t see either billy nor his mom that day.
billy was working, though, steve knew because his unmistakable car was parked in its usual spot to the left corner of the building.
steve searched his entire brain, something he’d never done before, to figure out what billy meant.
he wanted to ask someone who knew more about literature than any teacher he’d ever had, but billy was the person he couldn’t ask for help this time.
steve never realized how much he depended on billy for everything. and he means everything.
date ideas for nancy. billy had the best spots.
how to keep nancy smiling. billy had the best pickup lines and corny jokes to make people smile.
keeping steve from not failing his classes. billy was the only person capable of getting through steve’s thick skull.
girl problems and regular teenage angst. billy always knew what people were feeling and how to react.
steve was so dependent on billy and he was absolutely crumbling without him there.
and nancy was frustrated. steve kept spacing out and ignoring her during dates. he wasn’t as charming as before and he was clingier than usual.
‘an absolute nuisance and is acting so desperate’ were her exact words.
this is what she told jonathan byers one night while they sat with their brothers and their friends at the diner after a long afternoon at the arcade.
this is what billy heard while busing tables behind them, unnoticed, before he opened his big mouth.
“done with that?” billy asked with a sickly sweet smile while pointing down at nancy’s empty milkshake glass.
as she made eye contact, her face burned bright red while she tried to control her facial features, “refill?” was the only thing she could squeak out.
billy kept the smile plastered on his face, “‘course!”
he made sure to spit in her stupid strawberry milkshake before he brought it to her.
“do that again and you won’t be working here anymore, boy,” the owner of the diner—benny—whispered to billy while holding onto his upper arm as he walked away from their table.
“yes, sir,” billy said, fake apologetically, because he grinned while walking back to the kitchen.
damn all the money in the world, nancy wheeler was a bitch and deserved her spit-shake.
billy had come to peace with the fact that steve was straight and in love with nancy.
really, steve couldn’t control who he liked.
ok so he was bitter as hell, but it didn’t stop him from being a decent person.
steve, on the other hand, was in the midst of a gay panic—not that he knew what that was. all steve knew was that he missed his billy—
wait when did ‘billy’ become ‘steve’s billy?’
and since when did steve think about billy more than he thought about his girlfriend? especially while he was alone in his house, laying on his bed.
he should be thinking about his girlfriend. his pretty, sweet, incredibly smart, charming, beautiful, blue-eyed—wait! not billy! think about your girlfriend, dumbass, not your best friend!
steve didn’t sleep that night. he stayed up thinking about billy.
about how it had been almost two weeks since he last hung out with billy and over a month since they’d last talked, like actually had a conversation. about how he didn’t even know what his girlfriend was doing this week, even though he knew she told him.
about how he needs to talk to billy.
he needs to figure out why he’s obsolete in billy’s life now. about why they drifted so quick it’s like something shoved a knife between their friendship.
and so, on that sunday morning, while most of hawkins would be out for church, steve drove over to billy’s house, knocking on the door of people who didn’t wake until noon most sundays.
“oh my god,” steve groaned to himself, knocking harder, “open your fucking door, people,”
the door swung open so fast it scared steve a little, almost knocking on a person—billy’s mom.
“hi,” steve gave an innocent smile, though he was met with a grumpy glare.
“why?” she asked desperately, “you know not to come before 12, 10 if it’s an emergency. it’s sunday, the day of rest, and here i am, not resting,”
“i need to talk to billy,”
“yeah,” she nodded, “see, he’s aware that it’s the day of rest, so he’s still sleeping,”
“i don’t care,” steve was stubborn.
she shrugged, “he punches you it’s not my problem. i’ll be resting so scream really loud if he kills you, the neighbors should hear and they’ll call someone for ‘ya,”
she winked at steve as she made her way back to her room, hoping to god that they’d either make up or make out, and she knew she probably wasn’t sleeping anytime soon. these were her boys she was thinking about, after all.
steve walked quick to billy’s door, turning the knob and moving to billy’s bed, sitting on the edge with his hands in his lap.
“i know you heard me knocking,”
“shhh...”
“billy,” steve groaned as he shifted to look at billy ‘sleeping.’
“he’s asleep. call again later,”
“you are your mother’s child,” steve snapped jokingly.
“well then she’s a smart lady. go away, steve,” billy pulled his pillow over his head.
“no,”
“—mmk,”
“talk to me, billy!”
“no,”
“why not?”
“he’s sleeping,”
“jesus christ!” steve stood up, pulling the pillow off of billy’s head and hitting him with it repeatedly. “get up and talk to me you brat!”
billy sat up after the second hit, but steve just kept going.
“what is wrong with you!?” billy put his hands over his head, pushing the covers off himself.
“me? what’s wrong with me!?” steve dropped the pillow to his side as he made crazy eyes at billy, “you’ve been ignoring me for the past, like, month!”
“no i have not!” billy pointed his finger at steve as a teacher would a student. “you have been the one attached at the fuckin hip with wheeler, so don’t you say that i’m the issue here!”
“i talked to you all the time!”
“about her!” billy stood so he could look steve in the eyes properly. “i don’t give a shit about her, steve! i really, really do not care about her in any way besides whatever concerns you! so i’m so sorry that i’m not very attentive on your hour long rants about how ‘nice and soft her hair is,’”
“don’t mock me!” steve exclaimed, insulted by billy’s bad impression of him.
“she’s a bitch!” billy yelled.
“don’t call her a bitch!”
“ok.” billy shrugged, “she’s a prissy bitch,”
“go fuck yourself,” steve complained, throwing his head back in annoyance.
“no!” billy yelled, taking a step foreward. “she talks about you behind your back. to byers. says you’re desperate and a nuisance. is that the same girl you’re so in love with, steve? huh!?”
steve’s face fell a little at the accusation and his eyes darted around billy’s room.
“liar,”
“when have i ever lied to you?”
steve was quiet.
billy, in a softer voice, “i’m not lying. i just don’t want you to be all in love and her not feel the same way, you’re not good together,”
steve had shuffled around to sit at billy’s desk. “wow thanks,”
“i’m serious,” billy’s face was kinder, not as harsh, “she’s already all grown up, and you’re not. it’s a good thing, steve. you’re happy and carefree and want to... go skydiving and she just wants to... play mahjong at the retirement home,”
steve cracked a smile but it fell just as quick, “she really said all that?”
“i spit in her milkshake and she drank the whole thing,” billy admitted, leaning against the desk next to steve’s legs.
steve smiled, “‘course you did,”
they sat quietly for a minute, taking in billy’s words and the consequences of them.
“i’ve been really worried about you,” steve admitted. “you ignored me for a week then got into a big fight, which you haven’t done since that one boy made fun of me freshman year, and then you didn’t even act like i was around. thought you hated me after what happened in the hall,”
“don’t hate you,” billy leaned closer to steve, knocking their shoulders together, “could never hate you. just... frustrated, i guess?”
“cause of nancy?”
billy shrugged, “yea—“
steve turned to look at him better, “something else, though,” he stared at billy for quite some time, “your dad didn’t call—“
“no!” billy shut down the idea, “no, it’s not him. he’s lone gone now,”
“then what?”
“it’s no—“
“it’s something,” steve insisted.
for as awful as steve was on his own, all alone with nancy or in school, for as bad as he was at reading people, billy was an open book to him. he knew every tell he had and could almost read his mind.
“no,”
“yes,” steve was stern.
“no, steve,”
“talk to me,” steve almost begged.
“no,”
“why do i love you?” steve whispered quietly to himself, making billy’s head shoot up before he remembered that he and steve had been saying ‘i love you’ since two weeks after they met.
“steve, you don’t need to worry about—“
“you?” steve guessed. “i don’t need to worry about you? how is that right when all you do is worry about me?”
“i don’t—“
“you do!” steve had a fire in his heart now, “even when you’re upset with me you’re still a good friend. you still look out for me and spit in my awful girlfriends milkshake while she talks crap about me!
“i don’t get why you do it, billy, because i don’t return it and i didn’t even realize until now!”
“you don’t have to,”
“but i should!” steve was pacing in the middle of billy’s bedroom, “i am the worst to you and you just don’t do anything about it! i love you. i love you so much but i’m such an ass to you and i can’t even—“
“i love you too, steve, we’re there for each other. always have been—“
“no,” steve’s eyebrows went up and he steadied his shaking hands. as he realized it for the first time, steve spoke, “no, i love you, billy,”
billy was frozen.
didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t dare even blink.
it was a dream, it had to be.
“i love you and i want to care about you more than i do. i’m a shitty person as is, but, i want to be there for you like you always have for me,”
“i love you, too,”
“why are you crying?” steve’s eyes widened as he saw the tear tracks down billy’s face, rushing over to wipe them away.
“‘m happy. they’re happy tears,” billy sniffled as he looked up at steve, “promise,”
and they kissed.
steve didn’t even think about nancy. billy didn’t think about the shadow under his door that was most definitely his mom listening in.
they ignored the way it was a really bad kiss, especially for two boys with such reputations that they have, but enjoyed it nonetheless.
billy enjoyed the way steve’s hands pushed his messy curls away from his face and steve enjoyed billy’s hands rubbing his lower back.
they didn’t have to think beyond that moment, didn’t have to worry about a single thing.
their only plans past that moment were for steve to break it off with nancy, then they’d go get chocolate milkshakes and eat cherry pie at the diner.
#ok i made nancy the villain but it’s just because it was an easy target#lol this probably has so many spelling/grammar mistakes#stranger things#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#steve x billy#billy’s mom#billy hargroves mom#billy stranger things#nancy wheeler
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Paintings & Picture frames. [Pt. 3]
Daryl Dixon x Reader [Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7]
Art classes and Diner study sesions
Honestly you were hoping you’d just forget about it all in the morning.
Sadly you didn’t. As soon as your heard the rumbling of his bike getting closer you were reminded of what Tiana had told you.
Trying your hardest to focus on school you walked up to Daryl’s usual parking space and greeting him with another cup of coffee. “Thanks, and hi.”
“You know, if you really like hat coffee so much you should come by the Diner after five, I’ll be working with my boss, so there’s gonna be enough of that to keep you happy for a long time.” You offered him a refill as he had downed he entire cup already. “Maybe we can make a small start on the paper already? It’s usually pretty slow on Wednesdays so I doubt she would mind us doing some schoolwork.” Daryl nodded in agreement and handed you the second empty cup that you put away before walking into the building and started your art classes with Daryl.
Over the course of the day you learned that while Daryl takes the most beautiful pictures, he has no clue how to handle watercolors. Or pencils and markers. Daryl would have happily thrown away everything he made during class, but you convinced him to keep it and document it in the paper to get a higher grade and leave a good first impression with the teachers. He wasn’t happy with his terrible scribble being kept for others to see, or, laugh at according to his thoughts, but the idea of actually getting praise from someone for delivering good work at the start of something any other Dixon would have never managed to accomplish before did make him feel better about things. Maybe sticking around this girl wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Hey,” he carefully poked your shoulder, being mindful of the art supplies in your arms. “That offer from earlier,” He spoke so soft, it was like he was afraid someone would hear him. “I’d like to drop by your work later.” And with that he walked back to where you had left your bag and put his works into your folder without saying anything else.
The last class of today was all theory so you spent most of your tie writing along with the teacher’s notes until she assigned our homework and ended the class. The two of you stayed behind after everyone had left so you could exchange contact info in peace and pick a time for Daryl to meet you at the diner.
Arriving back home you took a quick shower and changed into your work attire before you left for your evening shift again. You came in to a calm diner with only one food order and two takeouts being prepared, the only other customer currently there was a trucker passing through and refilling his large thermos with coffee. After the man was finished and paid for his coffee you asked your boss to brew a fresh pot while you helped her pack the takeout meals and brought the other meal to your hungry customer. Most time after that was spent aimlessly wiping down the counter and waiting for Daryl, which felt like an eternity but was really only an hour after your dinner customer had left.
You were making your round wiping down all the booths when you heard the low rumble of daryl’s bike and you couldn’t hold back the smile that spread on your face. Lucky for you, your boss didn’t see it or she wouldn’t have let it go and you had no idea how Daryl responded to any type of affection, seeing how he didn’t even want to be study partners at first. You watched him park near the entrance, his bike in view no matter what booth you were in. Probably done on purpose to make sure nothing would happen to it while he was inside. You didn’t mind him parking so close, though. You loved that bike, it looked gorgeous and almost wanted to call it an art piece with how it was put together. Maybe you’d get the chance to casually slip a compliment his way and get him to open up about something he loves? That would be a good way to wind down after working.
The door bell jingled as daryl walked through and looked around scoping out the place and spotting you quickly. “Hey, sit down somewhere. I’ll be right with ya!” You called from your booth and followed him with you eyes, watching him sit down at the end of the bar, where it curved into the corner near the jukebox. He had his book bag with him which he placed next to the bar stool after taking out his old ratty looking laptop that was covered in stickers from all kinds of places.
“Hi hon, can I get you something?” She called, coming in through he kitchen doors. Looking up from hi screen to where the voice came from, he realized he voice was talking to him. And had to quickly remember what was asked. “Ah, ehh, just a coffee please.”
By now you had made your way back behind the counter and were putting away your cleaning towel. “Can you pour me one as well, please?” You tried to ask as sweetly as you possibly could, giving her your best puppy dog eyes. She came back with a serving tray holding three cups of coffee, sugar, sweetener and milk. “Enjoy, you’re gonna need some caffeine if you’re gonna be working on that paper of yours.” She smiled sweetly as she grabbed her own coffee and strolled back into the kitchen and clean up the last bits of dinnertime mess.
#the walking dead#twd#twd daryl#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#twd x reader#college au#alternate universe#twd au#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon imagine#twd imagine#sometimes i write
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