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buckysimp101 · 2 years

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Love at First Grade (18+) - 3

Single Dad! Bucky x Single Mom! Reader

warnings: none, kids being cute tbh

a/n: idk where I got this energy from for this fic but I am DIGGING it! Feel free to let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Series Masterlist

The sounds of children at recess were simultaneously comforting and terrifying. The summer had allowed Bucky to “forget” the sound of almost a hundred children squealing in excitement. He had seen Becca for a total of five seconds when Steve’s class came out for recess but lost sight of her just as fast.

“So. I hear Y/N L/N’s kid is in your class,” Steve spoke as he joined Bucky on recess duty, his statement making Bucky roll his eyes.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than gossip, Rogers?”

“On the first day of school? No way! Now spill, was the kid’s mom as intimidating as she seems in the news?” Steve questioned, his eyebrow raising.

“You gossip worse than my ma, Rogers. She was fine, we only spoke for a minute before she had to leave. She really loves her kid though. I could see that in her eyes. You don’t see that version of her on the news,” Bucky responded thoughtfully, recalling the short period of time he had to study you and your interactions with Avery.

Steve studied his best friend’s face. Something had sparked Bucky’s interest and he was going to get to the bottom of it. Steve decided to go with, "You think she's hot don't you?"

Bucky looked at Steve as if to say "how dare you ask me that" with his face but Steve wasn't accepting that. So he just quirked his eyebrows, ultimately forcing his best friend to answer, "dude you know she's hot. Shouldn't be that much of a surprise. It's just...how she acted with Avery..."

Steve opened his mouth to offer a sassy retort, probably something about Bucky's seemingly new crush, but was abruptly interrupted by one of his students pulling on his pant leg for his attention.

“Mr. Rogers! Becca stomped on Ethan’s foot at the slide!”

Bucky and Steve caught each other’s eyes before they were both making their way over to the slide as fast as they could. Sure enough there was Becca, fussing at a crying Ethan, her blue eyes alight with passion as she wrapped her arms protectively around…Avery. The whole scene seemed...very familiar to Steve and Bucky as they remembered when they were that size, meeting on the playground for the first time in the middle of a fight. The two friends looked at each other and nodded, an unspoken agreement sending Steve to talk with Ethan and Bucky to talk with Becca and Avery. As Bucky approached, Becca seemed to finally realize her dad was there, but rather than looking embarrassed she merely stopped fussing and stuck her chin out, her eyes sparkling defiantly.

It's like looking in a mirror. But who she's mirroring...I'm not sure Bucky thought to himself as he saw some of him AND Steve in his daughter. When he looked at Avery, he noticed the tears sparkling in her eyes and the quiver of her bottom lip, she was seconds away from crying. Bucky faced Becca and asked, "Rebecca, what happened here?"

Becca went on to regale him with the story of the events leading up to his arrival. Ethan had apparently called Avery a baby, because she was so small, and said that her unicorn shirt was stupid and that she should go back to Kindergarten. Becca, being the kid she is, wouldn't take that lying down and so Ethan called her a baby too, and that's when she stomped on his foot. Bucky was actually pretty proud of Becca's actions, standing up for her new friend that Becca so kindly introduced to him as, "my new best friend Avery Claire L/N, thank you very much."

"Yes sweetheart, I know Avery. She's in my class," he responded with a laugh, Becca's eyes growing wider and brighter with that knowledge. If Bucky knew his daughter, he knew that Avery had just gained a best friend for life. Funny how playground fights always seem to lead to a member of the Barnes family gaining a new, small, best friend.

After hearing Becca's side of things, Bucky turned to Avery to hear what she had to say. She corroborated Becca's story, but Bucky could tell there was something else she was leaving out and it most likely wasn't something to do with Becca. So like any good dad, he forced Becca to apologize to Ethan, even though he didn't want to do that to her, Ethan apologized to Avery then and ran away to play with his friends. Bucky knew that Steve would have to call Ethan's mom when they got back from recess to make her aware of the situation but hopefully it didn't lead to anything more than that.

Maybe Becca can get some ice cream later...I'll let Steve do that so he's the one rewarding "bad" behavior

But like any good teacher, Bucky knew that he needed to talk to Avery alone, so he asked Becca to go talk to Steve and tell him her side of the story as he knelt down next to Avery.

"Hi, Avery. I see you've met my Becca," Bucky spoke softly, trying to keep Avery from freaking out and avoiding him. "I know you told me what happened with the three of you, but is there something else that Ethan said that upset you?"

Avery averted her eyes but she surprised Bucky by quietly answering, "he said my unicorn shirt was stupid...my mommy said it's a magic unicorn shirt that would make me brave and strong...but I didn't feel very brave or strong when Ethan was being mean to me," the last part of the sentence coming out with a sniffle as Avery wiped at her eyes.

Bucky's lips turned up into a soft smile at the child, "your mama is right, that is a brave and strong unicorn shirt. And you were very brave and strong when your friend helped you. But it's okay to not be brave and strong all the time."

Avery looked him in the eyes now, here eyes twinkling with hope where they had previously been sparkling with tears, "that's what my mama says."

The one conversation was enough for Bucky to begin to form new ideas about you as a person. Maybe the Y/N that the media saw and the world knew, wasn't the same behind closed doors. Your parenting of Avery, in just the little bit that Bucky had seen over the course of the day, appeared gentler than anything Bucky would have previously expected from someone with your reputation. He could practically feel the love for you and from you radiating off Avery in that moment.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. Can I go play with Becca now?"

Bucky chuckled knowing there wasn't too much time left in recess after the fight and let Avery run to find his daughter, who was still talking Steve's ear off, though the blonde didn't seem to mind too much. When Becca noticed Avery she squealed and the pair ran off to go play near the swings.

The second half of the school day was less eventful than the first and Bucky was able to get through the rest of the first day of school without any more tears from his students. As the day drew to a close he received a call from Steve's office. Ethan's mother Alyssa was apparently "appalled at this behavior and wanted to talk with Becca's parents as soon as possible," Steve had said softly but in a high pitched tone as if he was trying to mock Alyssa. Bucky groaned, he knew that Alyssa could care less about Ethan's feelings or whether he was okay. She was one of the moms that constantly flirted with him whenever he saw her. Ever since he taught Ethan's older brother Alex two years prior. So Bucky told Steve to set up the talk for after school.

When the bell rang, Bucky escorted his car riders to the pick up area and continued with car duty. He could hear Becca before he could see her. He knew what Steve was doing, he was letting her hang out with Avery before she would be reprimanded in front of Ethan and his mother. The second Becca was within arms reach of Avery she was pulling her in for a hug, the smaller girl giggling and reciprocating the affection to her new friend. The sight made Bucky's lips pull up into a grin. He was too busy looking at the girls to hear the tap tap tap of a pair of heels walking on the concrete behind him.

Avery noticed the sound though and practically whirled out of Becca's hold as she ran past Bucky with a loud, "MOMMY!!!"

She let out a huff of air as Avery attacked you in a hug, a huge smile appearing on your face. You pressed a kiss to Avery's hair and Bucky could tell you were about to ask about her day when you were interrupted by a little brown haired, blue eyed girl threw herself at your legs with a hug to rival Avery's. You and Bucky stood there with confused looks on your faces, but you recovered quickly by bending down and introducing yourself to Becca. Bucky heard the usual "Rebecca Dolores Barnes, but I just go by Becca thank you very much," and you responded in kind with "Y/N M/N L/N, but Ms. L/N will do just nicely, it is lovely to meet you Becca."

Bucky swore his heart stopped. It had grown to be too big and popped like a damn balloon. The way you interacted with Becca as if it was the most normal thing ever to have your kid's brand new best friend clinging to your leg. Bucky knew if Steve were out here now that he'd be making some sort of face, probably wiggling his eyebrows. As Becca and Avery told you all about your day, you attempted to subtly look at your smart watch and that's when Bucky intervened.

"Alright, girls. It's time to say goodbye. You'll see each other again tomorrow," he spoke over groans and protests as the girls held each other tighter and said goodbye, Bucky dared to look at you and he wasn't sure if he was just imagining the amused look on your face as you watched him attempt to separate the fast friends.

He was about to say something to you when he was interrupted with a fake breathy, "James, there you are. We're supposed to be going to Mr. Rogers' classroom now," Alyssa, Ethan's mom, stated with a fake doe eyed look as Ethan straggled behind her. Bucky groaned inwardly while Becca cut her eyes in Ethan's direction when she noticed him and Bucky swore he heard her growl? What the fuck is this kid doing, I mean there's no doubting she's mine but we might need to talk about this...after ice cream. Bucky looked at you apologetically for having to cut the reunion short, and again he couldn't read your face completely, you had perfected your poker face, but he could have sworn you looked like you had just sucked on a lemon.

"Avery we have to get going too, Sam is waiting with the car. Becca, it was lovely meeting you, hopefully you and Avery can hang out soon. And thank you for what I'm sure was an interesting day of first grade, Mr. Barnes," you responded with a short nod in his direction and a warm smile at Becca before taking Avery's hand and walking across the parking lot to your waiting car.

Bucky, Becca, Alyssa and Ethan made their way to Steve's classroom. Alyssa talking Bucky's ear off the whole way about how he should be ashamed of Becca's actions, the whole time trying to lay her hand on his forearm until they got to Steve's class. When the door opened Steve looked up from his desk. And Bucky wasn't a mindreader but he got the gist of Steve's thoughts upon seeing Alyssa.

Overall, the conversation went much like Bucky expected it to. Alyssa bitched about the situation, Ethan was over it and ready to go home, Becca looked like she could spit nails at the kid and Bucky kept alternating between gripping the edge of the table and grinding his teeth. Eventually, Becca was forced to apologize to Ethan again and Ethan walked away from the conversation with a smug look on his face that Bucky just wanted to wipe off. Before leaving, Alyssa approached Bucky and said, "you know, we could talk about this a little more over dinner if you want," looking at Bucky through her thick, obviously fake eyelashes.

Her insinuation caused Bucky to scoff and roll his eyes as he gathered Becca and replied, "sorry. Can't do that. Gotta treat this one to ice cream, ready to go kiddo?" Becca broke into a wide grin and squealed as she ran into the hallway, leaving an open mouthed Ethan and a fuming Alyssa behind. "See you at Ellie's, Steve?" Bucky asked, throwing a grin over his shoulder at his best friend who merely shook his head and offered a thumbs up. As the father-daughter duo walked to their car Becca was rambling about her new best friend and the ice cream she was going to get and how it was the best first day of school ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: (to be added just let me know in the comments or dm me!)

@youlightmeupfinn

@la-undercover-latina

@jackiehollanderr

@fab-notfat

@galaxy-dusk

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #james bucky barnes #BuckySimp101 #single dad bucky x single mom reader #bucky as a teacher and a single dad? all i ever wanted #teacher!bucky x ceo!reader #teacher bucky barnes

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canirove · 2 years

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Ten years | Chapter 4

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"Nothing happened with Benjamin, then?"

"Nope. He drove me home and we said goodbye."

"I guess things were a bit awkward after having to eat next to Declan and Birgit. But are you seeing him again?"

"Maybe... He was really nice and actually has something inside that pretty head of his."

"I knew you would like him! I just knew it!"

"Yes, yes, Claire. Congratulations."

"Is that why you are so... Off?"

"What?"

"Since you arrived you've been... Weird. You've barely touched your ice-cream, and you usually devour it."

"I'm not hungry, just that."

“Are you sure?”

"Yes, don't worry."

Better say that than the truth. That I barely slept last night thinking about Declan's fingers touching me and the memory they brought. A memory he wanted to bring back. But why? Is this revenge for insulting him and Birgit? Is he playing with me?

"That sigh tells me there is something else going on, tho."

"I sighed?"

"Yes, you did. And it was one of those grandma sighs, the ones that sound like “I'm so tired of living...” But hey, if you are not ready to tell me about it, I respect it. Just know that I'm here for you" Claire says, holding my hand and giving it a squeeze.

"I know. Thank you."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Going out with Mr. Sexy again?"

"Please don't call him that."

"That's how the teens call him."

"Really?"

"Yep" Dom says. "One of the boys told me because, apparently, that was my title."

"Benjamin stole it from you?"

"He did, yeah. And I get it. If I was 16 and had him as my P.E. teacher, I would also call him Mr. Sexy. But instead, we had Mr. my breath smells like cheese."

"Oh, please, don't remind me of Mr. Halverson before a date."

"So it is a date, uh?" Dom says, moving his eyebrows up and down like that Milhouse gif.

"Yes, it is. And so was the first one, I've never denied it."

"I'm glad you are dating again. You deserve to take some time off, have fun, enjoy yourself with a hot guy... Have you enjoyed yourself with him yet?"

"I'm leaving. Good night, Dom."

"Oh, c'mon, don't let me hanging like that!"

"Bye" I say before closing the door behind me.

Nothing has happened between me and Benjamin. Not yet. But the fact that he's offered to make me dinner at his place, makes me think that it might tonight. And I don't know how to feel about it.

He's nice, hot, charming, intelligent... And he actually is interested on me. But he doesn't make me feel anything. When he smiles, I don't feel my stomach doing funny things. And when he's close, I don't feel my heart about to explode on my chest. With him, I don't feel the way I feel when Declan is the one around. And I hate it.

They say you never forget your first love, but it's been 10 years. A decade! Those feelings should be gone by now.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

As I suspected, things are happening with Benjamin tonight. We are making out on his sofa, his t-shirt already gone somewhere. But I'm not able to focus on his kisses, on the way he is touching me, on the fact that his back has more muscles than I thought humanly possible.

"Are you ok?" he asks.

"Uh?"

"You don't seem to be enjoying this too much"

"Oh, no, it's just... I haven't been with anyone in a while and I'm a bit rusty."

"Should I go slower or something?"

"No, no. You’re fine, it's all just me. I'm thinking too much and I can't relax."

"Is there anything I can do to help with that?"

"I'm afraid not" I say, sitting up. "I'm sorry, Benjamin."

"You don't have to apologize for anything" he says, kissing my hand. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

"I think I'll walk. Thank you" I say, kissing his cheek.

He's too cute. Almost perfect. And I'm the biggest idiot out there.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Fuck" I say when I feel a few drops of rain on my face. I should have left Benjamin drive me home. By the time I make it, I'll be soaking wet.

While I try to decide if running is a good option or I'll end up slipping, a car stops next to me. Great. A weirdo.

"Do you need a lift home?"

"Declan? What are you doing out this late at night? Were you following me again?"

"I wasn’t" he says, rolling his eyes. "I was at my brother's house, he lives on this area."

"Oh, yes, true" I say, my hair starting to stick to my face now that it is properly raining.

"Do you want a lift or not?"

"Fine" I say, quickly running around his car and getting inside.

"Why didn't your boyfriend take you home?" Declan asks after a few seconds of silence.

"He isn't my boyfriend. And he offered, but I wanted to walk."

"Alone? At this time of the night? Are you crazy?"

"I needed to think."

"And you couldn't do that once you got home? Or on his car?"

"When did you become my dad, Declan?" I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I just worry about you."

"You do?"

"Yes. Why so surprised?"

"I don't know. I thought I was a bitch and that you didn't like me anymore."

"I still like you" he says, turning to look at me while the car is stopped on a red light.

"The light just turned green" I say, neither of us able to stop looking at the other.

"I know."

"Then why aren't we moving?"

"I don't know" he says, moving dangerously close to me.

"Holy shit!" I scream when I hear someone honking behind us.

"And here I thought this was a quiet town" Declan mutters, the car moving again.

After that, it's just silence until we make it home.

"Thank you" I say, struggling to get free on my seatbelt.

"Let me help you. This is my dad's car, and he mentioned something about this thing always getting stuck."

As he tries to help me, our hands touch, and I could swear I felt electricity going through my body, making it feel very warm. A feeling I should have felt earlier with Benjamin, not now with Declan.

"There you go. You are free."

"Thank you" I whisper. Again, he's too close. But this time his eyes aren't focused just on mine. They keep going down to my mouth, that warm feeling from before getting stronger.

And then he is kissing me. And I am kissing him back. It's been 10 years since the last time, but it feels like it's been just a couple of hours ago. Our bodies still remember the other, fitting perfectly together, as if we were made for the other.

When we break apart, both of us are panting a bit, my forehead resting on his, just like we used to do. But when he puts a lock of my hair behind my ear, making me feel all fuzzy inside, I snap back to reality.

"I better go, it's too late. Thank you for driving me home."

"Wait, no."

"Good night, Declan" I say, quickly getting out of the car and running towards my front door, my heart on my throat.

This is not ok. This should have not happened. I should not feel like this. I have moved on.

#declan rice #declan rice imagine #declan rice fanfic #declan rice x reader #football imagine #football fanfic

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renee-writer · 10 months

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Feelings Chapter 3

AO3

“Wake up, clodheid!”

Murtagh expected the lad to stay hidden for the gathering. It was the safe thing to do but when he hadn’t shown up for breakfast, well… He never expected to find him like this! With Mistress Beauchamp!

“Bloody hell Jamie !” He rouses at his name. Where is he and who is with him? He opens one eye and sees brown curls. Oh! Opening both he sees her, still sleeping in his arms, her breasts… With a flush, he covers her up. “Ye couldn’t take a kitchen maid. Ye took a lady!”

“Actually, I took him.” Claire says. She works her fingers under the tartan Jamie covered her with, re-securing her laces, “don’t blame him.”

Murtagh is struck dumb by her admission. They both arrange their clothes for decency and stand. Murtagh stares at them before shaking his head. “Ye must be married, right away.”

Now Claire is silent, staring at him as she picks the straw out of her hair and places it back in a proper bun.

“What Murtagh ?”

“Jamie, if she was some kitchen wench, ye could get by with it, unless you got her with child. But Mistress Beauchamp is a lady. Her reputation will be destroyed if ye don’t …”

Claire, who can give less about her reputation, nevertheless, agrees with him. The previous night has made one thing clear, she can’t run away from her feelings for him. She will remain here, in his time. To do that and not get the reputation as a loose woman, they need married. More importantly, she loves him more then she ever loved Frank.

“He is right.”

“Aye,” his eyes shine with love and joy, “I will need to ask Collum.”

“Nae,” Murtagh ‘s exclamation surprises them both, “He doesn’t trust Mistress Beauchamp yet and ye are under his protection, the both of you. Far better to do the deed and then announce it.”

“How?”

“Why Mistress Beauchamp, ye shall be hand fast. Right now.” He leads them farther into the barn. She follows, confused but trusting because Jamie is.

“It allows a couple to be married, a year and a day, thus allowing time to go before a priest.” He explains.

“Wait.” she says as Murtagh withdrawals his dirk.

“Tis only a small cut, allowing your blood to mingle.”

“It isn’t that. I can’t marry you Jamie. I don’t even know your last name.” Both men chuckle at that. Yet, she has laid with him.

“It is Fraser, James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser,” He bows low before her, “your servant ma’am.”

“Ye both will be looked for soon.” Murtagh reminds them.

Jamie nods and places his arm out. Claire copies him. The cut is shallow but stings. She has time to wonder about the cleanness of the blade as Murtagh places the two bleeding cuts together. He ties them thus.

“Say the words after me.” Jamie says. She does, tripping a bit over the strange sounds.

“Wonderful. Ye are married.”

“That is all? What do the words mean?” Murtagh fidgets. He came to find and fetch his Godson, not to perform a impromptu wedding ceremony. He fears they will be caught any minute.

Jamie takes the time to tell her. “You are blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my body that us two may be one. I give you my spirit until our lives be done.”

“Oh, that is lovely!”

He grins.

“Kiss your bride Jamie and then be off to the stables and you to the surgery Mrs. Fraser.” She starts a bit, at the new name. Jamie presses his lips to hers and she temporarily forgets everything else. “Come, I said kiss her dinna swallow her.”

The come apart and reluctantly part.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #feelings #chapter 3 #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom

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whoslaurapalmer · 2 years

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lulu watches doctor who; night terrors, the girl who waited ⚔️

no big deal but the girl who waited came into my house and murdered me in cold blood and i will never recover. oh my godddddd

-okay so i’m getting back to watching episodes closer together which i’m very happy about bc i feel like. having such a huge space between watching the past four episodes has made me, not keep all the characterization beats right in my head and like i’m going to miss something and not link things together right bc i’m not watching them as closely as i did for ten and i am very terrified of that!!!! -well! doing my best. anyway

-boy is it a gut punch that like. the first episode right after ‘amy has a child under very traumatic circumstances who is then taken from her, realizes this woman she knows is the grown up version of her daughter, and there’s no way she’s ever going to be able to actually raise her daughter in any way and has to just. keep going’ is ‘well it’s scared small child time!’ - :( -it doesn’t like. get brought up in the episode bc eleven is the one interacting with george and not amy but. i’m thinking it -especially bc claire not being able to have kids. is some rather big foreshadowing -that was also the moment in this episode where i was like ‘ohhhhhh this isn’t a child-pov horror. this is an adult-pov horror’ -it kind of wound up being both, though! -‘eleven’s overall series tone is a horror story’ marches on.........

-eleven and amy and rory all interviewing the residents is so cute omg look at them go

-that guy playing the dad looks like somebody. who is he. -oh he’s mr. young in gomens!!! knew he was familiar. good for him

-rory going ‘we’re dead. AGAIN!’ he’s getting savvy

-is anyone else absolutely dying for what the plot of ‘snow white and the seven keys to doomsday’ is -also i’ve been replaying link to the past with the seven princesses of heart maidens so. rotating link to the past and snow white around in my brain -it’s not my fault so many other games including kh did the ‘there are seven girls who are for plot du jour reasons magic-important and we’re gonna kidnap them and you have to go try and get them’ yknow -anyway. i’m imagining snow white with a sword going around and dungeon crawling castles and getting the keys to prevent doomsday and of course rescuing some princesses along the way

-the landlord getting turned into wood. was fucked up. a+ -the overall feel of this one was a little like fear her? (i really liked fear her, btw) even with the alien-ness of it all, the core of it is still a child’s fear of being hurt by a parent and those fears coming to physical life in some way, and being comforted by a parent that they’re loved and safe where they are and as they are. very different ways between episodes though but still

-oh this is where the tick tock thing comes from! -the spirit of it is spooky. and like, yes, lake silencio is looming over us all as the end of the season approaches. but like. was it needed? ......eh??? -personally no i don’t think so because by god is the audience aware. maybe it makes more sense like. with a week in between episodes to keep the reminder but we did JUST see it again at the end of the previous episode so it’s not like. you’re gonna forget in a week. so i think it’s pushy -but it’s not. terrible. i guess

-alright okay okay the girl who waited holy shit -just to get this out of the way first it was a smidge uncomfy with the quarantine talk in the existing state of 2022 but thankfully it did not last long -i love the white, though. very uncanny. very good

-it’s tough bc like. i don’t like the emphasis on amy saying ‘save me.’ on her having to wait. of accepting that she’d wait and not try and find a way out herself. on relying on someone to come get her, as an adult -on everybody writing amy into corners where she has to be rescued, honestly -but! by god this episode DELIVERS on even deconstructing that too

-because amy did wait. not just here. all the time. amy is always waiting for the doctor. she’s been waiting since she was just a little girl in a garden waiting for a friend to take her away to someplace new bc she was lonely. amy is always still that little girl in the garden, left behind and angry and bitey and covering it up -and she had to wait in demon’s run. and she had to wait for the doctor to find melody. and she always has to wait for the doctor to come get her, because of the doctor’s failures, she has to wait for the doctor to fix his mistakes that have put her in danger -and she gets tired of it!!! of course she does!!!! 36 years alone with some robots!! she knows time is passing differently but it still hurts. it’s still passing for her and she has to experience every second of it -so she does stop waiting. she has to. she has to fight bc amy is all amy has. and she gets angry and bitter! and fed up!!

-“and there he is. the voice of god.” -amy laying into the doctor. goddamn -that that’s what she calls him. that eleven is that. that he can be a god-like figure and also, he’s currently a disembodied voice out of rory’s glasses

-and that time MATTERS. because this is still amy. this is still our amy!! it is!!! 36 years later this is still our amy!!!! it’s not this amy and our amy it’s amy!!!!! and she doesn’t want that time and those years and what it meant to her, to be taken away. -“i will not help her.” do you help your past self? at the cost of your present and all you went through? -it’s terrible!!!! you should want to stop your suffering. because you could, you can, now. but all that you went through? all that made you this you, the now you, that’s still just as important as a younger you? that has as much value as younger you did, because this is still you? you lose that. it’s like it never happened, because it didn’t happen. like it can just be looked over, like all this hurt can just be wiped away when it’s you now

-ugggggg shit fuck i get it. okay. yeah alright i see the appeal of day of the doctor. i do -but it’s you. why wouldn’t you help you, if you could? if you had the opportunity to be that kind to yourself? -but there are some things you can’t, you know? there are some things you can’t change. some things can’t be stopped, some things can’t be erased, some things can only be moved forward from -where’s that tumblr comic where it’s like. if you could go back and stop yourself from doing a terrible thing. would you. because now you know better, because you learned what the consequences were. if you went back and stopped it and never learned, would you know better. would you still have the knowledge. do you go back and do you possibly become a lesser version of yourself. do you go forward and do better, be better -i don’t know, admittedly there’s a lot here -and it’s not like.........the time war is a true parallel to eleven’s complete lack of time management and amy suffering for it for her entire life, including 36 extra years that exist now -so like.......amy helping herself, is that amy helping herself or is it letting eleven off the hook? -of course they all remember everything, they saw older amy, they know it happened. no one’s really off the hook, honestly -when amy wakes up she wants to know where her older self is

-“time is rewritten.” “that’s good, isn’t it?” screeching. absolutely screeching

-i mean in terms of a tv show episode structure, of course they have to rewrite the older amy. like, to move forward in the show with both amys, or just older amy, that’s........a big ask. it’s a lot -what’s the best solution, here? for amy? -it is to rewrite time. it is to help your past self. -of course they wouldn’t be able to bring older amy along. of course not. -there’s a lot in here and i’m still not done unpacking it probably but i’m. tired of rolling it around

-anyway there’s also a lot to say about rory’s place in this, too -“are they happy?” “oh rory, trust you to think of that. i think they’re happy to be alive. better than the alternative.” -rory’s always thinking of other people and their happiness, and eleven is like........charmed and frustrated by it. bc it’s.......... -like in the pandorica opens/the big bang, eleven being charmed and exasperated by rory’s insistence on staying with amy. of course it’s something he’d do. rory is that kind -the doctor always does what’s right. these are things the doctor would do. but they are things the doctor is not doing. they are things the doctor does differently. they are things that eleven, after ten, is seeing differently -eleven is very scared of being human like ten was, of allowing, obvious, overt emotion, of being too involved, there is always a distance between him and even the people he loves, even between him and amy (which i will briefly address at the end of this post) (but also a possessiveness, too. also a selfishness) -but he’s also.........he’s got it in the other direction too. he doesn’t want to get too close and he wants to protect them and it’s turned eleven a little, cruel.

-rory is a better being than the doctor. -and christ almighty they fucking did it. was i not literally just wondering if they were doing ‘is rory being made into a doctor. is rory better.’ -“this isn’t fair. you’re turning me into you.” - :(((((((((((((((((((( -that’s one of those heartbreaking lines that’s always going to stick with me -many companions wind up turning into shades of the doctor. (at all times i am never over everybody threatening genocide in journey’s end and ten going ‘oh shit’) but not in a way they’re always.........consciously aware of -but rory is!! and this isn’t the first time rory’s called eleven out for it, he did it in venice too -but he even defends the doctor, too. rory is not immune. “the doctor just got the timing a bit off.”

-anyway rory having to let go of older amy, older amy telling him not to let her in. yep that hurt

-i do like seeing rory being so important to amy. like. actually seeing them matter to each other -waiting for rory is..........unlike waiting for the doctor. because rory means something different to amy than the doctor does. i don’t really have any big thoughts here -i can say that i feel like amy revolves too much around the doctor but it’s really that way for every companion so i’m just. throwing my hands up at this point i guess idk -i think she specifically is defined by her relationship to the doctor, and to rory, in a way that is.........very present in this episode in a good way and a bad way but again. literally every female companion is to some extent defined by her relationship to the doctor, in some way, but amy isn’t shown pieces of a life that exist without them, like other companions and their families, but i’m still, throwing my hands up right now

-oh, shit. i’m gonna have to watch pond life, aren’t i

-anyway, additional observations --

-amy’s phone by the dvds.......what dvds do they watch.........inquiring minds want to know who picks the movies on tardis movie night (-it has to be amy.)

-hey remember when sarah jane got stuck behind a door and separated from four and male companion du jour. (oh that’s very specific. I KNOW WHAT I’M REMEMBERING) what was that, ark in space??

-a+ for eleven in glasses. a+ for rory in glasses. i love a good glasses

-amy: i named the robot rory me: wow, amy wilson’d a hand bot

-the doctor is a coop vs AMY GOT STUCK IN THE BLACK LODGE -THIS IS A LODGE. THIS IS A L O D G E -there was a venus statue and we’ve got one predominate color and a person stuck there with themselves and sort-of doppelganger robots for years, and years, and years -i don’t know what to do with this information or where to go with it but that was a lodge.

-at all times i am rolling the master around in my head like a sad little convenience store hot dog so of course i was thinking ‘simm!master makes the tardis into a paradox machine’ vs ‘eleven willingly causes a paradox so that he can save amy’ -it is a SIN that eleven never got to interact with a master. an absolute shame. a gross injustice.

-yeah there is again a very sharp cruelness in eleven lately -how he handled amy’s ganger, destroying the cybermen to make a point, shutting the door on older!amy (and the emphasis on this amy and our amy) -yes i also think there’s been like. a very forced distance between eleven and amy, in particular, very recently in these episodes, like eleven is forcing himself to not get too close to her, asking rory for permission to hug her -eleven really is PAINFULLY AWARE of what has happened to amy is all his fault, amy even CALLED HIM OUT ON IT and how can you let go of the people you love but how can you keep hurting them? yeah i got into this up there -but yeah! how can he still let them go? what’s the alternative? you don’t hurt anybody but you’re alone. (-oh, that is coming for eleven though, isn’t it. my vague sense of ‘i am aware of pieces of eleven’s shenanigans but not everything’ is tingling)

-anyway god complex is next and boy howdy. am i excited

#lulu talks about doctor who #as always there was more i could've said but i am tired! and this is already a LOT

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buckcluckhater · 20 days

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Controversial Video Game Opinion: Resident Evil 3 (2020)

So this title was released right after the Resident Evil 2 Remake and as a bundle with Project: REsistance for $60, effectively a $30 game on its own. Looking at it from that perspective, I can at least somewhat justify the shorter length. Having no Clocktower segment and just having Jill get knocked out until the next scene with her is pretty blatantly just a cheap scene transition and a way to shift the control to Carlos.

The criticisms towards Jill Valentine's character in this game especially rub me the wrong way. The writers clearly from the outset wanted to incorporate her past experiences and the trauma that comes with them, having to watch people you know die and facing death yourself does a lot to warp someone's personality and make just the day to day experience of living much more difficult. That and not wearing a tube top is apparently a crime.

Having said that, it sucks how her apartment is this beautifully designed space with tons of personality and some really cool details, but your only interaction with it is walking around until the Trash Man comes to cave your head in.

On that note, Nemesis. I have no issues with his design or story appearances. What I do have a problem with is his gameplay. Unlike Mr. X, who was mostly free to roam the playable space on his own, creating a really organic enemy, Nemesis in this game mostly sticks to scripted encounters and often travels by teleporting out of the map (not before doing his own Spider-Man Pose) so that he can ambush the player by respawning closer to them. It makes sense why they do this, Jill is just so much faster than Leon/Claire in the previous game, and it helps Nemesis avoid falling too far behind, something Mr. X did a lot.

My issue is just how obvious it is that he does this. There are a lot of areas in Downtown Raccoon City where you can easily bait this movement and wait for him to slowly load into the correct spot before he attacks you. It's really inorganic and feels like a cheap rug-pull for experienced players who have a sense of how the game operates.

The Boss Fights are all way better than RE2-R tbh. I love that game to bits, but G-2 Birkin can go straight back to hell with his tiny arena and multiple charging attacks. Meanwhile the only Nemesis fight that kinda sucks is unfortunately his final encounter. On lower difficulties it's a joke, you only die if you forget how to play or panic and take too long. On higher difficulties the game literally makes enemies perform their animations faster in order to be more aggressive. This gives Nemesis an instakill combo if you have to get caught by one attack in the chain. Impressively unfair feature for an otherwise boring enemy.

Oh and the last part, the game's best feature is its Item Shop. Normally these things sucks because they're just a place to load up on consumables and be harassed with price tags. In RE3-R, you're awarded currency based on achievements and can spend them on whatever you want, like an Arcade Counter. This is great for accessibility too, since even mediocre players can probably grab the Infinite Ammo AR and use it to make the rest of the game much easier for themselves. Compare this to RE2-R, where only specific achievements unlocked specific items and most were things like Concept Art or Viewable Models.

This game also has viewable Models, but the controls are kinda weird and the game's small size indirectly makes it a less interesting place to browse since there's way less to look at. Alternate Model poses and booba physics were also added to iterate from the RE2-R version.

Lastly, the actual gameplay. I personally feel like it's one of the more difficult games I've played, and a large part of that is needing to depend on reaction time much more than prior titles. Dodge rolls and QTE grabs are the emphasis over Consumables, which definitely threw players off when they first got grabbed and the Knife did nothing to stop them from being bitten. It's lame how Zombies were mechanically downgraded for performance issues. Not only do they go completely stiff upon death, this actually ruins their 'ambush' behavior by making it instantly possible to tell if they're still alive based on whether or not their body shudders when attacked. In RE2-R they always moved when hit, so sometimes they could fake death by just not reacting more than that. You know, like a Zombie.

To cap this off, I actually love Resident Evil 3 (2020). It's amazing on the first playthrough and remains a fun game to Speedrun, or played for the challenge. I feel like it was mostly disliked for the changes it made from the original, and for clearly being an underfunded title, which is much worse considering how good Capcom and Resident Evil were doing in terms of sales. They did not need to rush this game, but what's done is done.

Also Project Resistance still sucks. Play Dead by Daylight, or don't, maybe go on a walk or talk to your friends.

#resident evil 3 #resident evil #video games

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revisitingstoneybrook · 1 year

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#9 The Ghost at Dawn’s House: Chapter 10

Another babysitting chapter and it’s just Jamie Newton being annoying.

Babysitting entry from Claudia! Or should I say babysiting entry. This is an early book, so her entry is actually readable and not the garble it became in later books. She does manage to spell ‘babysitting’ right...then loses one of the t's the next time around. I think it went along with the 'e' at the end of 'the' and the 'h' in 'night' that she also forgets. Lucy is also an angle...is she acute?

Claudia says she was trying to get Jamie in bed because there was a program on tv she wanted to watch and I'm guessing she didn't want him to see it? Probably Loveline; I caught one of my babysitters watching that when I was supposed to be asleep.

I can the Newtons in small doses, but Jamie sometimes gets on my nerves. This is one of those times. Claudia arrives and is greeted with three “Hi-hi!”s in a row. And it's now gotten to the point where Claudia says it back to him. Claudia says Jamie's bouncing up and down like “a yo-yo in blue jeans.” Get that boy some Ritalin!

Jamie says he's learned a new song and sings the first verse to Claudia. It seems to be the only verse he knows because Mr. Newton cuts him off before he can repeat it. The song is “I'm in Love with a Big Blue Frog.” I know I've heard that somewhere before, so I went looking on YouTube. And, sure enough, I saw it on The Muppet Show:

youtube

Maybe it's a good thing Mr. Newton cut him off, because one of the verses made me do a double take: The neighbors are against it, and it's clear to me And it's probably clear to you They think value on their property'll go right down If the family next door is blue

Anyway, Lucy is already asleep, Jamie already had dinner, all he has to do is go to bed, so Claudia pretty much has it easy. WRONG. Jamie seems to have switched personalities with Claire Pike because he's bouncing off the walls and refuses to go to bed. Claudia now has her work cut out for her. The minute his parents leave, Jamie starts stalling. He tells Claudia he has something to show her and starts pulling out his old toys and asks to wear his pajamas that are already in the wash.

Maybe we underestimated Jamie, he's a sneaky little smartass. He tells Claudia he can get changed himself (after whining that his farm pajamas are babyish...did Stacey babysit for him last?) and tells her to face the wall and not peek while he gets changed. Well, he pulls a fast one on Claudia (then again, how difficult would that be to trick Claudia?) and runs downstairs to the playroom. Claudia gives him the full name treatment (James Anderson Newton) and tells him to march his butt upstairs. But Jamie's not done with his tricks yet! He says he needs to brush his teeth, then go to the bathroom, then get a glass of water. Claudia tells him not to move a muscle and gets the water, comes back and finds him pretending to be frozen. Of course.

She then offers to read him a story...did she bring a pop-up book, or is she going to read Pat the Bunny? She suggests Harold and the Purple Crayon, Jamie wants Make Way for Ducklings because it's longer. Claudia decides not to argue and reads Make Way for Ducklings, which takes longer because Jamie keeps asking questions. She finally finishes and he asks for another glass of water. Claudia has nerves of steel. She finally leaves him to fall asleep then goes down to watch the show that's apparently too hot for Jamie to be around. Five minutes in, Jamie shows up with another question about the book and wants more water.

#babysitters club #bsc #the ghost at dawn's house #dawn schafer #snark

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phoenixes-and-wizards · 4 years

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little things i never want to forget about the hargreeves:

all of them used to defy their father, sneak out to griddy’s, and in five’s own words “eat donuts until we puked. simpler times, eh?”

luther wrote poetry while he was on the moon, especially about comets

tom hopper and the UA crew have said that the scratches all over luther’s body were made by him. he couldn’t stand the loneliness, especially during that first year, and would often resort to harming himself as a way to vent his frustration

it’s also pretty likely that he's had body dysmorphia at one point or another

he also has a habit of stress eating

diego almost became a detective, but he dropped out because he wasn't good at following orders. he even went to police academy!!!

diego has the cross stitch grace made specifically for him on the wall of his basement apartment, and in a frame no less

he’s also a big-ass momma’s boy

and he’s the only one grace calls “silly” as a term of endearment

and he has a fear of needles due to getting that tattoo when they were kids (y’all know which one i’m talking about)

plus his stutter only comes out when he's under extreme emotional stress

and a close rewatch of 1X03 shows that his bedroom had an overflowing abundance of books so what if him and ben used to bond over that😭

allison speaks seven languages

she told her daughter about her siblings, and claire obviously knew them well enough that she was calling them "uncle” and “aunty,” and that last one is especially heartwarming because this was around the time that vanya’s book had just come out, and yet, allison--who has the option of never telling claire about her--still does, and even explains why she wasn’t allowed to go on missions

klaus was smoking blunts at fourteen

klaus was clutching dave’s dogtags right before five teleported all of them to the past

and i’ve noticed that he has a habit of doing that in general in season 2, especially when he’s feeling kind-of low, but sometimes it’s also an unconscious habit and that’s cute, too

klaus would write the things the dead would say to him, all over his bedroom wall

klaus has a habit of going barefoot whenever he’s at home

five was the only person vanya felt comfortable enough with to present new violin pieces to

five outright says that everything he’s done so far was to get back to his family and keep them safe

@me-evil-never wrote in the tags: “five has watched his family die/be dead like 3 times if i’m counting correctly (YES YOU ARE AND IT’S A PAINFUL FACT WE MUST ALL LIVE WITH), plus all he has ever done in his life since age 13 was to get back to them so he could spend time safely with them” and YES I AGREE why would you hide such an excellent point in the tags because, sometimes, even i forget that it’s only been two weeks for him, and they’re probably the roughest he’s had since being stuck in the apocalypse as an actual child, and idk about you guys, but i just really want to give five a big hug because lord knows he deserves needs it

allison used to paint klaus' nails during meals

and was apparently a daddy’s girl, though how one could become a “daddy’s girl” if the father in question was reginald hargreeves is beyond my capacity to understand

ben was reading chekhov as early as 14

ben was a bookworm, both in life and death

vanya had the smallest room

vanya openly called ben the kindest of their siblings in her book, and said that when he died, none of them had any more reason to stay

before he left, diego gave reggie a piece of his mind

all of them know how to dance

they all know how to speak and read greek (ancient fucking greek, as one of you oh-so-eloquently put it)

vanya knows how to speak russian and god knows how many other languages

(by this point i'm really convinced they're all multilingual and there just hasn't been an opportunity for them to utilize that yet)

she also has a mr. snuggles teddy bear

according to klaus, vanya used to cry when the others would step on ants as kids

klaus is pansexual

he also dated twins once (though i’m not sure if he dated one then the other or both at the exact same time)

and has mild claustrophobia from being locked up in mausoleums all the time as a child

diego swore a pinky promise with lila and called it “the pinkiest promise” he’d ever make, and even though he’s a hard-ass who won’t hesitate to cut anybody in half, he’s still at his gentlest when he’s around her and he doesn’t even try to hide it

off her meds, vanya got first chair and a solo on her first try (as a violinist in a professional orchestra, lemme tell you that this is no easy feat to do)

she also seemed to have an affinity for bach (again--not easy!!)

even though he was barely starting puberty, ben was smart enough to reprogram allison's teddy bear to say "luther smells dad's underwear."

upon possessing klaus for a few minutes in season 2, ben could be seen clutching various flowers and smelling them repeatedly

klaus can actually levitate in the comics

according to @valkerymillenia, ghost!ben once saved klaus' life in the comics after he overdosed on heroin yet again

both klaus and diego repeatedly tried to open the lock to vanya's old anechoic chamber and were absolutely furious when luther wouldn't let them

diego called elliott "one of ours" despite knowing him for all of a week and a half

he also calls herb “herbie,” calmed him down after accidentally drawing a weapon on him, and created a secret handshake with him, all within two hours tops of meeting him

if one really thinks about it, diego is actually good with people? and that makes sense because he left the academy as early as seventeen, and he would’ve had to talk to a lot of people just to make ends meet that first year alone, and even though reggie tried to squash that part of him down, he’s still a good person at heart, you go prince of pointy things, make us all proud

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clandonnachaidh · 3 years

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Light Across The Seas That Sever (Ch6)

AO3

“Mind ye’ve got that meeting this afternoon?” Ian reminded him for the thousandth time as they all sat at the breakfast table and Jamie fought the urge not to roll his eyes, already mildly annoyed at the fact that his bowl of porridge wasn’t quite right. He should’ve made it himself without backing down when Jenny had insisted on doing it for him, that way it would’ve been thick enough to plaster a wall with, just how he liked it. But his sister would never surrender the spurtle, working it through the oats and milk until they became creamy and setting a large bowl of sugar on the table, much to Jamie’s distaste. Thick enough to clart a wall and with enough salt to make your eyes water, that was exactly how he’d had it since he was a bairn, their mother taking hers in the same way. Only Jenny and their father had preferred that their breakfast be covered in sugar and the sweetness of the Scottish strawberries that grew wild on Lallybroch estate.

“Aye, I ken fine well enough,” Jamie grunted without turning his eyes towards Ian who was trying to encourage a spoonful into Wee Ian’s mouth. “Whit was the name of the estate again?”

“’Tis the only estate in Tomich but did I no’ tell ye? He’s changed the meeting to the golf club.”

It had been his idea to begin with but now Jamie was uncertain about how their drunken plan was taking shape. After one too many whiskies of a night, he and Ian had been sprawled in front of the fire as they chastised the blend that they were imbibing, arrogantly announcing that the two of them could do much better. Jamie hadn’t thought anything of it as he’d stumbled to his bed and let sleep take him but a few days later he found himself mending a fence post in the back field as Ian continued his musing about Broch Mordha putting its stamp on the world as a new destination for a premier whisky distillery and the two of them, its innovative creators.

Jamie grunted as he rose to his feet and deposited his bowl into the deep sink, letting the tap run to soak the dish and refusing to turn his body to take in the picture perfect family scene that was sat at the kitchen table.

“Mr Dunsany—“

“He’s a Lord, is he no’?”

“Is there a reason yer being a particularly crabbit arse this morning, brother?” Jenny’s voice was dripping with irritation, not wanting her nice family breakfast to be ruined by the interminable grey cloud that had been brewing over Jamie’s head for the past few weeks.

“Jen, leave him be.”

“I will not. He’s been a moanin’ greetin’ face since he came back from that bloody reunion and ’tis hell time he snapped out of it,” she said a little louder to ensure that Jamie heard the emphasis that she placed on the insult as it flew from her mouth.

This caused him to turn on his heel and level his sister with a careful eye.

“I’m sorry, Janet, but sometimes I think ye forget that there is a world outside of Lallybroch. Life can be a damn sight more complicated than poppin’ out weans and tending tae chickens, ye ken.”

If her temper didn’t hit the roof, her eyebrows certainly made a good go of it. Silently, her fingers curled tightly around the spoon, stilling herself against the pull of Wee Ian’s chubby little hand that was fisted in the material of her shirt, demanding attention.

“I ken that fine well, James. But ye canna jus’ come home every time ye see her and sulk like a wee bairn that doesna get what he wants. Grow up a wee bit, aye?”

At the end of her parting shot, Jamie felt the anger licking at the sides of his throat. The rage that he’d been directing towards himself was now begging to be let loose on someone else, someone that would bite back and Christ, Jenny would do just that. It had been this way since he’d come home, the frustration melting into a sullenness that had punctured the idyllic bubble that the family lived in at Lallybroch. In his worst thoughts, he resented both his sister and his best friend and the happiness that they shared. Jamie loved them to their bones, of course he did, but after leaving Oxford with yet another memory of how he’d let Claire slip through his fingers, the last thing he wanted to see was the very evident love between Jenny and Ian and their three children.

And so he found himself, in a suit that was a bit tight across his shoulders but he’d purchased anyway in a department store on the Inverness High Street, shaking hands with Lord William Dunsany in the bar of a golf club that he’d never seen fit to frequent himself. Jamie tried his hardest not to let the glances from the club members get to him as they walked around the lounge with an understated belonging the he’d never feel himself. He made sure that he gave a strong handshake, looking the shorter man straight in the eye and made the informed decision to swap from his usual Scots to his best Received Pronunciation, assuming that Lord Dunsany was one of those people who claimed to be a ’Scotchman’ but was as English as they come with the age old story of inheriting Scottish land as a birthright. Jamie had realised, however, that the man certainly knew his whisky and would make a not-half-bad business partner with himself and Ian if he managed to convince him to part with some cash.

Jamie was fuzzy on the details of how’d they’d come to the agreement but two hours and four whiskies later, he found himself once more shaking hands with Dunsany. The Lord would foot the seed money in exchange for a fairly sizeable but not unfair amount of the business and as a personal favour, Jamie would escort his eldest daughter around Edinburgh the following evening.

“She’s up here with me to get away from some nonsense that’s gone on at home but she’s been cooped up in her hotel for days while her mother tries to organise a townhouse for her. I just want her to get out and see the city. Who better to show her around than a native?”

Late next afternoon, his slight hangover thankfully having subsided after a coffee and a square sausage roll, Jamie stepped off of the train and onto the platform of Waverley Station in the heart of Edinburgh.

The tang of the breweries immediately filled his nostrils and he breathed deeply as the ever present sound of bagpipes floated down from the upper level of the street. While Lallybroch where was his heart lived, and he loved the humour and familiarity of Glasgow, Edinburgh held a special place in his heart. He never got tired of grabbing a coffee and walking the length of George Street in the sun, the castle bursting into view if he turned his eyes to the east.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he made his way towards the hotel that Dunsany had insisted on to putting him up in, the same one as his daughter just to make things simple. Although Jamie had spent many a morning diving into the spectacular breakfasts put on at one of his favourite places in Edinburgh, The Huxley, he had never imagined staying at The Caledonian that loomed over the small establishment just metres from its door.

Jamie didn’t quite know what to do as the doorman who was wearing a bloody top hat opened the door to the hotel for him so he settled on giving the man a polite smile, resisting an absurd urge to give him some type of formal bow. He had been in nice hotels before but nothing like this with its polished marble floor and a huge vases of fresh cut flowers on most surfaces that he could see.

“Mr Fraser, we have you in the Robert Louis Stevenson Suite for two nights. Here is your room key and it also includes the number for the Concierge, should you have any need. We have a table booked in the Peacock Alley bar for you and Miss Dunsany at 6pm this evening and I would be happy to make any dinner reservations you would like to make, within or outwith the hotel. Michael can get the rest of your bags from the car,” a neat blonde woman smiled at him from the reception desk as she inclined her head to the bellboy hovering at a polite distance over Jamie’s right shoulder.

“It’s nae bother, lass, I’ve only got the one bag,” Jamie muttered with a hint of embarrassment as he pulled the bag from the floor and swiped the keycards from the desk, smiling back at her. “Thank ye.”

When he stepped through the door that bore the name of one of Scotland’s most beloved authors, his growing Imposter Syndrome ramped up a few notches. Crossing the floor towards the window, Jamie was greeted by a beautiful view of the castle as it loomed over the city. He didn’t quite know how to act, having never been in such a large and clearly expensive hotel room. In fact, it wasn’t even a room, the woman at the desk had called it a suite.

Flicking through the TV channels for a little while, settling on the new show about Billy Connolly’s upbringing in Scotland, his fingers lazily scratched at the bare patch of skin just above his belt buckle. Something about being in a different city and having some time to himself made him feel lighter than he had in weeks and he gave himself permission to laugh at a particularly lewd joke that spilled from The Big Yin’s mouth on the TV.

Jamie’s phone, lying face up on the mattress beside his left shoulder, startled him as it gave a firm buzz. Sitting up, he opened the latest message from Geneva, telling him that she wanted to go out for dinner somewhere nice tonight. He was under no illusion as to the fact that when someone like Geneva Dunsany used the words ‘somewhere nice’, she was actually saying ‘somewhere expensive’. But thankfully, Jamie knew just the place and sent her a reply saying that he had it in hand before phoning down to the reception and having the helpful woman book a table at a restaurant he knew would be impressive enough but not so posh that he would feel out of his depth by eating there.

Although they’d messaged back and forth that afternoon, he hadn’t bothered to enlarge the tiny picture next to her name at the top of the screen. Toying with his phone, Jamie resolved that he had to know what the lass looked like, not wanting to have to shuffle embarrassingly around the bar trying to figure out who he was there to meet.

Her picture brought to its full size, he looked at her for the first time and tried was pleasantly surprised. She was clearly beautiful. Dark hair that flowed in loose waves over bare shoulders, her skin a beautiful olive brown from a summer tanning on a beach somewhere. She was looking at the camera dead on with a surety that came from a privileged upbringing, her face painted perfectly and a twist of the lips that couldn’t really be called a smile, as if she didn’t want to be seen to be having fun. She looked like every posh girl that Jamie had met in his life, every girl at university who would air kiss their friends on both cheeks while their manicured hands clutched at bags that cost more than his first car.

Suppressing a groan at the thought of spending a weekend with a person who no doubt came from an entirely separate world than the one he’d grown up in, Jamie divested himself of his socks as he plodded, bare feet on plush carpet, through to the bathroom to take a shower and clean himself up ahead of his evening.

Later, he sat at the bar, his fingers playing with the patterns on the cut crystal glass that housed his double whisky, he felt a gentle hand rest on his shoulder.

“James Fraser?”

His stomach dropped into the floor.

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind at what hearing his name fall from the lips of an Englishwoman would do to him. He felt an absurd wave of revulsion swipe through him in an instant and he took a quick drink before turning on his stool to face her, swallowing the bile that had risen up in his throat.

“Och, lass, nobody really calls me James. Ye can call me Mac. ’Tis another one of my family names,” he tried to sound light and not as if the sounds of his name leaving her lips felt like the flesh on his back had been ripped open to the bone.

There was a reluctance in her eyes and he immediately knew that she was uncomfortable so he did his best to send her his most charming smile, gesturing for her to sit and then signalling to the bartender.

“What would ye like tae drink?”

“Martini, if you would, extra dry, extra dirty,” she ordered confidently as the bartender nodded and turned to begin preparing it for her.

With her chin in the air, she asked, “So, my father said you were a business associate?”

“Aye, I suppose I am now. My brother-in-law and myself wish to start our own whisky company. Your father has kindly offered to help.”

“My father isn’t generally in the habit of helping out of kindness.”

“Aye, well, hopefully he trusts that we ken what we’re doing. Or that we’ll figure it out at the very least,” Jamie tried to joke but she gave him nothing. There was something cold in her demeanour that he hoped he wouldn’t have to fight against for the whole evening.

After watching the martini disappear down Geneva’s throat in record time, he offered her an arm as they left the hotel and were hit by the cool air of Edinburgh in the evening. As soon as Jamie took the first step towards Princes Street, Geneva halted.

“We’re walking?”

“’Tis no’ far, only ten minutes or so. We have time before our reservation,” he replied, gently tugging on the arm that she’d looped through his so that she would begin to walk with him. Her feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete.

“These are £500 shoes, I’m not walking anywhere.”

“Lass, Edinburgh is a city tae get lost in. If we get a taxi we’ll just be looking at the sides of buses and traffic lights. Yer father asked me tae show ye the city,” letting her arm slip from his, Jamie took a step forward and gestured towards the castle, atmospherically lit from beneath now that the sun had gone down. He turned back to her with a kind smile and held out his hand. “Let me, aye?”

Reluctantly, she acquiesced and let him lead her away from the hotel. Jamie’s skin tingled at the contact and he realised that he hadn’t touched a woman apart from Jenny since the university reunion with Claire. He flexed his fingers experimentally and felt something swell in the pit of his stomach when Geneva tightened her grip in response.

The two of them made small talk as they walked through Princes Street gardens and up towards the restaurant, Geneva seeming happy enough with the venue that he’d chosen. He’d heard good things about The Witchery before and as they sat down at a table covered in a pristine white cloth, surrounded by painted dark wood on the walls and ceilings, he noticed how pretty Geneva looked in the candlelight. Only a fool would try to argue that she wasn’t beautiful. But there was a coldness to her that hadn’t warmed yet and so he kept on being as charming as he could, hoping that another glass of wine might bring down the steely demeanour that she seemed to hold on to for dear life.

Oxford had been full of girls like Geneva Dunsany. Wealthy, privileged and confident. After four years of university, Jamie had perfected the art of tuning out their inane conversation about which exotic place they’d spent their summer, who’s guestlist they’d been placed on for the weekend and what they were planning on wearing. So he knew how to respond to her constant stream of speech, nodding and agreeing in the right places and sending dazzling smiles across the table when he felt like rolling his eyes. Though somehow, he found that he didn’t actually dislike Geneva Dunsany. Something in her eyes, or maybe it was the way she chose her words, showed Jamie that the poor little rich girl personality was an act. Underneath the mask, she felt the same way that he did—unfathomably sad.

Something inside of him felt sorry for her, recognising the pain that he knew all too well in another. And while he didn’t particularly care for the woman, Jamie decided to be kind to her. He leaned closer across the table and started to respond to her stories with anecdotes of his own. With the help of another two martinis, she began to blossom in his company and the two shared a relatively pleasant evening together.

When they reached the hotel elevator, Jamie had nothing on his mind other than stripping off his constricting shirt and sleeping off the whisky cloud that was hanging somewhere around his temples.

“What’s on the agenda now, then?” Geneva asked as they stood side by side.

“Shower then bed, I think.”

“Sounds good to me,” she all but whispered, Jamie’s head twisting to see the dark look of seduction that was painted on her face. “Mind if I join you?”

He didn’t say no.

It was shocking how easily he slipped into the worst version of himself. There had been a few nights in the past where he’d spent too much time and money in the pub in Broch Mordha and woken up the morning with some woman curled around him at whatever bed and breakfast they’d invited him back to. He only ever slept with women who were in the area for the moment, never anyone who he’d run into again. It was always when he was half gone with drink, his body acting solely on blind need that he succumbed to his baser instincts.

The doors of the elevator opened and Geneva walked in purposefully, turning to look at him with an alluring smile. Jamie walked in beside her and pressed the number for her floor.

They found pleasure in each other’s bodies but it was skin deep at best. A simple matter of scratching an itch that they both clearly had and had resolved to using the other to sate that particular need. There were no delicate touches or gazes held for any real length of time. Jamie set himself to work, making sure that she got hers before followed suit. It was perfunctory. Pleasant. And when they both uttered their subdued sounds of fulfilment, Geneva immediately rolled away from him, shielding herself once more.

“Do ye want me to go?” Jamie’s voice broke through the dark silence of the room.

Her response was barely a whisper, “Please.”

He dressed quickly, roughly, and scrambled around in the dark for his phone that had fallen from his pocket. Geneva was lying as still as a statue but Jamie could hear the odd sniff from her and realised that she had begun to cry. After dithering between his options, his inherent gentlemanliness won out.

“Is there anything I can do?”

There was no response for a few seconds and he took that as his answer, beginning to move towards the door of the room when a single word stopped his hand from turning the doorknob.

“Stay.”

Keeping his eye on her as though she was a frightened animal that might bolt at any provocation, he slowly began to undress. When she moved over slightly to give him room to get under the covers, he did just that and felt a strange sense of kinship as she wrapped her body around his. Jamie held her, stroking her hair until she fell asleep in his arms. The sound of her gentle breathing was the only thing filling the room until his phone suddenly pinged with a notification.

Facebook Congratulate Claire Beauchamp on their engagement!

Before he could stop himself, he opened the app and looked at the posed photograph of the two of them, her left ring finger showing off an almost comically large diamond ring.

After telling our friends and family, we are so happy to announce that we are engaged! We thank everyone so far for their kind words and well wishes. From the future Mr and Mrs Frank Randall.

Every muscle on his body was thrumming with energy. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what the energy was made from. Rage? Fear? Utter desolation? Whatever it was, it was coiling its way around his ribs, holding him in stasis and holding him hostage as he experienced it.

He wasn’t even considered a friend anymore, seeing as he hadn’t been given the privilege of a private message, having to find out through fucking Facebook. She had clearly changed in her time in Boston, the Claire he knew would never have given up her name and become Mrs Frank Randall. Randall-Beauchamp at the very least, for Christs sake.

Tasting the rare metallic nature of blood in his mouth, Jamie realised that he was biting the inside of his cheek. He felt the need to get up and do something, anything to expel the energy that was going to burst out of him if he didn’t channel it into something. But he was stilled by the feel of Geneva’s naked body against his and a rush of guilt tried to swallow him whole.

How dare he question Claire’s life, assume to know her situation all the while he was in bed with another woman. Reminding himself for the hundredth time that Claire had made her choice and it wasn’t him, he swallowed his pride and went to send her a message, even though he knew it wasn’t a smart idea.

He shouldn’t have had that final whisky.

Jamie: Just seen the news. Congratulations to you and yours.

A blatant lie but what was he supposed to say?

To his surprise, her reply was almost immediate.

Claire: Thank you!

Short and to the point. Two words that would shut down any further conversation, a feigned attempt at excitement and gratitude that he prided himself on being able to see through.

He knew that he would have been one of many to send the same sentiment that day but he had kidded himself that his text would receive a more personalised response. Maybe all she thought of him was a copy and paste response as she planted her phone down screen first on the sofa before climbing into the arms of her future husband.

In an attempt to hold the tears at bay, Jamie curled an arm around Geneva’s prone body, bringing up his hands to his arm and pressing his palms into his eyes until he saw stars.

#light across the seas that severed #clan donnachaidh #ao3 #outlander fanfic #jamie fraser #Claire beauchamp #outlander #modern au

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merci-bitch · 3 years

Text

Her Lover

Alma LeFay Peregrine x fem!reader

Warnings: abuse, swearing, death, fluff, angst

Words: 5k

A/N: it’s been a while, hasn’t it. Lol. I’ve been having my exams and shit and I’ve been working on this for the longest time so I’m really sorry if there’s a word that’s not supposed to be there, I don’t really proof read. But hopefully more stuff shall be coming soon. Ta ta! Xx

Jake was surprised, it was all real. What his grandfather had told him, all those stories. They were real. It was unbelievable. At first, when he saw the boomed children's home he didn't really believe it. As that man said at the pub. 3 September 1943. No one survived, but then how come Miss Peregrine's letter had only come 2 years before to his grandfather. How was that even possible?

When we first entered the loop, he of course ran away and nearly got himself killed. Thankfully his new friends saved him from those angry Walsh people. The house looked so different from those ruins he saw. It was actually a very beautiful house. Big and tall and all those flowers growing up on the sides. Completely different.

Miss Peregrine wasn't anything like he'd expected. Not at all, despite from all the stories he'd got from his grandfather. Apparently she was the bird flying above him and his father when they first arrived to Cairnholm. Ever since Jake arrived, he'd notice that on the bird's right hand, her ring finger. There was a small ring with a single diamond. Jake knew it wasn't probably wasn't his thing to ask, but he didn't see anyone else then the people he'd already seen. His grandfather had never really mentioned anything or anyone else then the ones he'd already talked about.

He had helped Emma with the baby squirrel, it was a bit awkward wrapping the rope around her waist. He'd noticed Miss Peregrine's glare, it was uneasy. As if she felt some sort of jealousy? But that was ridiculous. Absurd. Jake had agreed to join them for supper. Emma was helping him in his grandfather's old room. He just couldn't but ask.

"Emma, could I ask you a question?"

"Jake, I told you that there are questions I can't answer." Emma said as she tied his tie.

"I know, but it's just. Does Miss Peregrine love you? Like, that way?"

Emma stilled. Almost uncomfortably.

"Jake. What's got you to even think of such disgusting things?!"

"I'm sorry! It's just, I saw her glare." Jake held his hands up in defeat.

Emma let out a sigh. Looked down before looking up again. "You must understand. Miss Peregrine, well all of us lost someone dear. It's taking her long time to actually get back to who she is. So please, stop asking questions." As she finished speaking the bell rang. They both walked down together and Jake almost sat down on Millard.

"Millard. Go and put some clothes on. Polite persons do not take their supper in the nude."

Jake almost felt sorry for him, he didn't mean to take his place really. He couldn't see him, obviously. He was, well he is invisible. During dinner, he couldn't help but stare at Miss Peregrine's right hand with that ring. Her long slim fingers with those long nails. The ring was silver. The small diamond was pretty. And shiny.

"Claire, why aren't you eating?" Miss Peregrine asked, looking with worry to Claire. Chewing on the piece of food.

"She's embarrassed in front of Jake." Hugh said, leaning over to Claire.

Jake shook his head. "Don't be. Please."

Claire looked over at Miss Peregrine with a small smile and Miss Peregrine sent Claire a wink before turning back to her own food. Claire grabbed the chicken leg and put it behind her head and a few seconds later she put the clean bone back on her plate.

"So Jake, what's your peculiarity?" Horace asked. Leaning over the table a bit to see Jake as he asked.

"Oh, I'm not peculiar." Jake stammered.

Enoch put down his fork and knife and said, "And that, my friends, is why he will not be staying with us. No matter how hard we try to persuade him."

Miss Peregrine spoke up again. Her voice light but firm. "We've spoken about this. Jake is just visiting."

Hugh opened his mouth, "He might want to say."

"Don't you want to stay, Jake?" Olive asked.

"Tonight? Or..-" Jake didn't get a chance to finish of his sentence before Claire irrupted him.

"Forever! You should stay forever." Her smile big.

"Why would he, if he doesn't have to? He can live out there, grow older, have a good time instead." Enoch said. Trying to make a clear point of why he didn't want Jake in the house. Jake could feel Emma slightly lift from her seat despite being strapped down. She was getting uncomfortable.

"He'll leave, just like his grandfather did." With that, Enoch started eating again and Emma got up and practically ran out of the room despite her heavy shoes. Miss Peregrine's call for Emma didn't stop her. As Emma left, a clothed Millard came into the room. Excusing himself. Sitting down and starting to eat his own food.

"Deep breathes Alma, you know how dear Enoch gets with new company."

Miss Peregrine closed her eyes at the voice inside her head. She was right. She slowly got up as the telephone rang. "I think you should all get ready for movie time while I answer that."

"But you always let us stay for it." Claire begged. Miss Peregrine turned around and gave the children a glare that almost scared Jake. She was a strange woman, yes she was. Miss Peregrine stepped out to the hallway, to the ringing telephone. This time, she nearly didn't answer it. Wishing the voice inside her head would come back. Missing the touch of that person with the voice nearly threw her off guard. She nearly kicked herself from going off schedule. Shaking her head, she answered the telephone and went on with the schedule.

The time went on, again. Horace's projected his dreams. One particular dream made Alma tense up. She couldn't watch it. She turned on the lights and heard all the groans from the children. It was almost re-set time. Olive asked Jake to stay and see the re-set. Enoch clearly didn't want him to. Alma felt herself chuckle softly. The arguments between Enoch and re-set. Alma stepped out in her raincoat and put on her gas mask after putting on the music. Run Rabbit Run. She would always sing along to the song-Alma kicked herself mentally again. She stopped her clock, she turned it 24 times to represent the 24 hours of the loop. She took of the gas mask and smiled towards her children.

She said her goodnight to the other children as Emma and Jake made their way out the door. Her smile faded as they disappeared from her view. She closed the door, knowing Emma would lock it. She slowly made her way up the stairs, to the end of the hallway, to her bedroom. She opened the door and walked in and closed the door again and locked it. Leaning against the door and closing her eyes.

"You know me better then I do. Can't seem to keep nothing from you. How you touch my soul from the outside. I still love you even though I'm scared. Learning to be grateful of myself. I wish I could love me like you did, how I wish I could trust myself like you did."

She moved from the door and towards her desk and sat down and started unpinning her hair. Brushing through her hair slowly. That black-blue hair. The little curls. She got undressed and dressed in her lacy nightgown and brushed her teeth and took off the makeup she'd been carrying during the day. She laid down in the cold bed, shivering slightly. Falling asleep after a few minutes.

***

"Clarice! Clarice come on. We have to get back. We can't stay in La Pari forever. We've been gone 7 years too long!" Claire let out a groan and stopped walking. "But Y/N! I love Paris!" Y/N shook her head. Her little sister was definitely a number. "Well, you wrote to Alma we'd be home, so let's go." Clarice didn't move. "I? I didn't write. She's your wife." Y/N felt herself tense up. Oh no. Y/N had forgotten to write, and she'd hopped her darling sister had written.

"When was the last time You wrote back home Clarice." Y/N looking over at her sister, with a glare almost identical to Alma's. Clarice bit her bottom lip. "5 years ago." Y/N felt her head spinning. She sat down and rubbed her forehead. Clarice started laughing. "What's so funny?!" Clarice threw her head back in laughter.

"Oh lord, the handful you will get when you get back. I mean Abe will definitely be in her side." Clarice said while patting her older sister's shoulder. "God. She'd kill me. I swear, I didn't mean to forget and I thought you'd been writing." Clarice shook her head. "But you're right. Let's go home."

***

"Jake, you're back. How wonderful." Miss Peregrine said as she held the Ymbryne tight to her.

"How's it doing?" Jake asked. "Emma said it was an Ymbryne."

"She. Not 'it'. Ymbrynes are always female." Miss Peregrine said as she looked up at Jake. "And Emma was quite correct. This is Miss Avocet." Miss Peregrine continued to give Miss Avocet the medicine.

"Her loop's in Blackpool, England." Jake said. Miss Peregrine slowly turned her head up towards him and saw him holding a piece of paper. "That was a private letter, Jake." She said as she put down the medication.

"Who is Mr. Barron?" Jake asked, slightly raising his voice.

Miss Peregrine's face expression turned blank and her right hand came almost protectively over Miss Avocet.

"Miss Peregrine, if my grandpa was involved with dangerous people. I need to tell the police." Miss Peregrine looked up at Jake again, her brows knitted with confusion.

"Police? Are you implying Abe died an unnatural death?" Her voice going quiet.

"I found him in the woods, with his eyes missing. I'd say that was pretty unnatural." Jake said as he watched Miss Peregrine raise from her chair. Miss Peregrine looked at Jake in disappointment, snatching the letter out of his hands.

"Unless essential, I don't discuss unpleasant matters. An Ymbryne's duty is to protect children, Jake." With that, she left the room, almost in a hurry.

"I'm not a child! He wanted you to tell me everything!" Jake shouted after her. Jake let out a sigh of frustration and walked down the hallway and was stopped when both Enoch and Olive came into his view.

"Oh. How frustrating for you. Between Miss Peregrine's rules and my housemates' little pact not to scare you off, it's like no one's telling you anything." Enoch was sarcastic. Olive stood quietly behind him. Jake leaned forward.

"Why don't you, then? It's not like you want me here."

This time, Olive spoke up.

"Enoch, you can't. You promised." Enoch looked back at Olive before answering.

"Olive's right. I do know someone who can get away with breaking rules though. Want to meet him?" Jake looked a bit uneasy at Enoch before following him up the stairs. Olive behind them.

"Enoch, don't do this. Please!" She grabbed his arm, begging him not to do whatever he was going to do.

"You want to spend time with me and Jake, we can all play together. That's what you said." Enoch said as they reached a door at the end of the hallway. Olive stood in front of them. Not letting them pass through the door.

"Well, here we all are." Enoch said. Olive looked up at him with a bit ready expression. "Move Olive."

"If you're going to be like that, then I don't want to be your friend." With that, Olive left. Sobbing quietly to herself while walking down the hallway.

"Enoch, leave Victor alone. It really upsets Bronwyn." Fiona said as she walked up to Enoch and Jake. Enoch put both his hands on Fiona's shoulders, "Stop fussing, Fiona. Don't you think Jake should meet everybody?" He said while looking over at Jake.

"He's trying to frighten you away, Jake. He's always jealous of Abe. And now he's jealous of you. Come and play with us instead."

Enoch crossed his arms and looked at Jake, waiting for an answer. Jake didn't really know what to say.

"I'd quite like to meet Victor." Jake said after some time. Enoch smiled and ruffed Fiona's hair. Enoch opened the door, letting Jake walk in. "After you."

In the middle of the room there was a bed, covered in thin layers of fabric, and Jake saw Victor, lying there. He slowly walked in, moving with small steps towards the bed.

"Hello, Victor. I'm Jake. I'm sorry to disturb.." Jake looked down at Victor. His eyes were missing.

"Yeah, he can't hear you." Enoch said. Enoch got on his knees and opened Victor's shirt and put the heart he held down into Victor's chest. Jake saw how Victor's chest started to heavy. Almost like a jump scare in movies, Victor sat up and looked over at Jake.

"Hello, Jake. I'm Victor. Do you want to know what killed me?" Almost like a puppet he was. It scared Jake and he ran out of the room, downstairs where Miss Peregrine and the rest of the children were waiting.

"Ah, there you are. Is Enoch with you? It'd time for our daily walk." Miss Peregrine said.

***

Alma walked into the room where Victor lay. Sighing once seeing Victor's covers down. She pulled them up, making sure they covered him and slowly sat down. Noticing the tear falling down his cheek. Softly wiping it away and pulling him up and held him against her chest.

One of the most disappointing things she'd ever done. How she couldn't be able to save Victor, how she'd let her poor child die. She never meant for him to die, she never meant for Bronwyn to lose her brother. Alma felt herself tear up.

"It's alright Alma, you did what you could and for that, Victor will forever be grateful."

She really wanted to believe those words. Oh, how hard life could be. She couldn't let herself to cry. She'd always say it was alright to cry, but Alma just couldn't. She slowly put Victor back in his place and looked at her watch. She had a few minutes before the children would be back, but she had to keep schedule.

Alma walked out of the room, closing the door. Walking down the hallway to the right and then further down that hallway and then into her own bedroom. Closing the door behind her, locking it. Just in case. She quickly walked over to the dressed against the wall, opened a drawer and pulled out a shirt that didn't belong to her.

Sticking her nose deep into the fabric, closing her eyes and breathing in the familiar sent. Holding onto the shirt tightly. Alma felt her eyes sting.

Why did life have to be so cruel? Why couldn't just one person live a life and be happy. Is it only fairytales that get their happy endings and not people in the real world? Was the 'perfect' life all just a big lie that you were told on the television outisde loops? Why couldn't you just live yourself in your dreams? Wouldn't life be so much better if you could? It would save all troubles from people.

Alma slowly sat down on the bed. Still holding the shirt tightly to her. Breathing in the sent again. Letting her eyes roll back for just a second. Accidentally losing herself in the sent. Letting a soft moan escape her mouth which caused her to blush. Hand covering her mouth as she blushed even more.

"My shirt hm?"

Alma turned around with a gasp. No one was there, she let out a sigh. Alma got up again, checked her clock and put the shirt back in the drawer and walked downstairs. Waiting for the children to arrive back home.

***

"Clarice, where was the loop again?"

"You can't be serious. We lived with Alma for years, you're married to her for gods sake!" Clarice sat down in the damp grass, crossing her arms. Letting out a huff.

"Awh, stop acting like a bloody kid! Maybe help me instead of acting like such a bloody moron!" Y/N answered to her sister.

She let out a huff and sat down on a rock. Y/N felt bad. She'd been gone 7 years too long and Alma probably thought she was dead. Just because her little sister didn't write as she used to. Y/N reaches into her pocket and pulled out a few photos. Photos she took, before she left.

Most were of Alma. It was one of the only times she'd let her time be taken from her. She missed the bird.

"Could you stop sobbing and perhaps do something to help? You cant stare at th-hey. Y/N. Was that Abe?"

Y/N looked up and saw nothing. She turned to her sister and hit the back of her head.

"Very funny."

***

The children were packing after they're realisation that they couldn't stay. As Alma had finally gotten the suitcase to close, thanks to the twins, the doorbell rang. How odd. She hadn't expected anyone. Alma walked up towards the door and opened the door and felt her whole body tense.

"Miss Peregrine, what a pleasure to meet you at last!"

Mr. Barron was holding his hand shaped knife against Jake's neck. Alma felt her breathing stop for only a second. What on earth was happening?!

"May we come in?"

Alma took a few steps back, letting him inside the house. Her children standing on the stairs.

"Children! Would you make your way down the stairs, please?" Mr. Barron shouted.

Alma raised her voice. "I give the orders in this house, Mr. Barron." Looking at him sternly.

"Not today. You should know that Jake has served his purpose. If you value his life, I suggest everyone does as they're told. Children!"

Alma raised her finger and shushed him. "No one tells my children what to do!" Alma turned around, a split of disgust in her expression. "Children, come down here, please." Her voice was strong but soft.

The children made their way slowly down the stairs.

"Miss Peregrine-"

"I thought I told you to be quiet." Alma snapped back at him. Giving him one of her famous death glares. She slowly made her way around again to look at her beautiful children. Knowing she might never see them again.

"Children, for Jake's safety, we're going to do what Mr. Barron asks. He wishes to take me with him to his rendezvous in Blackpool. So, for his protection, he'd like me to assume bird form, preferably caged. And he'd like you to make your way into a lockable room, such as the parlour." Alma turned her frame towards the parlour then back to her children before turning around to look at Mr. Barron.

"As he won't release Jake if he fears an attack could be mounted upon him once he loses his leverage. Correct, Mr. Barron?" Alma raised her chin, showing how she awfully despised him. Mr. Barron was at loss of words.

"You're sacrificing yourself and all of us, for Jake?"

Came behind her, Alma turned around and looked at Enoch.

"Me. Barrons travels with a Hollow, Enoch. Once it arrives here, we're all dead." She could almost feels Mr. Barron's wicked grin behind her. Alma saw Horace lean in to whisper something to Enoch but didn't bother to listen. It took everything not to shed a tear. She'd lost everything now. The woman she loved the most, her dear children. Everything.

She moved towards the parlours door and said her goodbye to each child that passed her, ending with a hug from Emma and the twins which made her she'd a tear. Once every child was inside the parlour, she grabbed the door handle to each door and took a deep breath and looked over her children.

"It's been my privilege, to care for you all. Goodbye my children."

Alma closed the doors and turned the lock and turned to face Barron, showing her anger through her tear stained cheeks. Taking steps forward.

"Now let him go."

"Oh, but the fun's just begun Alma." Barron let out a low chuckle.

"How dare you speak my name, filthy bastard." Alma tightened her tone. Growing more impatient by each second that passed.

Barron let out another chuckle, this time of surprise.

"My my, what words those pretty lips let out. Tell me, how's dear old Y/N doing?"

Alma clenched her jaw. Feeling as she might explode.

"How dare you speak her name?! How dare you come here, act like you own everything I have. You took her from me! How dare you mention anything of her's. I know what you did to her family, how her parents practically coward before you. On their knees begging to not die. Letting their dear children's lives pay their depth."

As Alma continued, Barron only chuckled. Jake was confused. Who was Y/N? What did this woman mean to Miss Peregrine?

"Technically I wasn't the one who sold her, her mother was. Her dear parents are still loyal to me as ever. I'd never gotten a chance to meet dear Y/N. So tell me, where is she?"

This time, it was Alma's time to be confused.

"What do you mean by that. No tricks Mr. Barron. I want the honest truth."

As he let Jake go, letting out a groan. "Listen, lady. I'd never meet her. If I had, do you think I'd be asking you? So come now Miss Peregrine. Where is she. Her mommy and daddy just wanna say hello."

Alma felt herself start to tremble. Y/N hadn't been in Barron's possession.

She'd spoken to Jake. Begging him to care of her children before turning into bird form. Flying into the cage. Leaving with Mr. Barron. If her dearest was really alive, she'd never see her again. Nor her beloved children.

***

"Emma, I have a question. Look-I know you don't answer them but it's about something Miss Peregrine said before she turned into a bird. Who's Y/N?"

Emma went quiet for a moment, not really wanting to speak. Jake let out a sigh and continued to talk.

"Mr. Barron said he'd never meet Y/N before. What does this mean-who is she?" Jake looked t Emma who's eyes looked at his. A slight tone of happiness appearing on her face.

"So, that means she could still possibly be alive." Emma's smile got bigger.

"Who is she? Is she another peculiar?" Jake was growing impatient.

Emma sighed. "Alright, if I tell you. Will you stop asking?"

Jake nodded his head and sat down and waited for Emma to speak.

"Y/N came to our home years ago, before Miss Peregrine had made the loop. She came with her sister Clarice. When they came they were both pretty young. I think Clarice was 15 and Y/N perhaps 20. I heard Miss Peregrine talk with them about what had happened to them. It wasn't really, nice."

Emma sat down herself and took a deep breath.

"Mr. Barron came to their house, in the middle of the night and killed their brother, well took his eyes. He was around 8. She talked about how their parents had sold them to Barron for their own safety. But before Barron could touch them they'd ran away. They'd taken the boat and arrived here."

Jake listened as she explained more about Y/Nk's past. But there was just one question bothering him.

"What about the ring on Miss Peregrine's finger?" Jake asked.

"Y/N and Miss Peregrine kinda fell for each other. A few years after the loop was created, they got married. Then again a few years later, perhaps 7 years ago. Both of them left, Y/N and her sister. But after two years they stopped writing back home. We heard nothing from them and since Barron wanted to recreate the experiment Miss Peregrine told you about.”

Jake nodded, shocked. He had nothing against the LGBT community but he’d never thought Miss Peregrine was a lesbian. Perhaps she wasn’t, maybe just fell for the one person she trusted most.

They went on, the plan to save Miss Peregrine.

***

“Clarice, fix it. Please. Something has happened.”

Y/N was panicking. The loop was gone, not a child in sight. Alma wasn’t here either. Clarice had the peculiarity of restoring time, she restored the loop. Made everything go back to normal. The house looked itself again but no child was there. What the hell happened. How long has the house been like this? Clarice was too busy walking to her room.

Y/N looked around, saw suitcases. Were they leaving? But why, and where? It felt strange being back in the house, but with everyone gone. Y/N walked around, touching the walls and everything. Y/N walked upstairs and into the bedroom she once shared with Alma and closed the door behind her. Alma’s perfume hitting her like a smack in the face. The scent of smoke, flowers.

She pulled open the drawer and pulled out one of the dark blue lacy nightgowns and spelled. Alma. Y/N looked out the window. It was dark and it was raining. Y/N loved the rain. She walked over to the window and sat down by the window and opened it to listen to the rain and felt herself drift off into sleep.

***

Alma opened the door and walked in. How in the hell was the house still standing? She hadn’t reset the loop. She was wet and she was tired and drained. She quickly walked into the bathroom connected to her room and took a warm, long and hot shower. She wrapped the towel around herself and stepped out. Looking in the drawer for her nightgown but it wasn’t there. Alma turned her head to the figure she saw sitting by the window and nearly had a heart attack.

She grabbed her pillow and hit Y/N with it multiple times.

“You reckless little-“

“Alma, hey! Stop hitting me!”

“I have every right to be angry at you! I thought you were dead. For 7 years you’ve been gone and then you stop writing?!”

Y/N could see Alma’s cheeks turning red from anger. She stepped forward, grabbing the pillow out of Alma’s hands and kissed her knuckles. Which made Alma shut up.

“Why’d you do that to me, to the children.” Alma’s voice was on breaking point.

Y/N looked up, into those blue eyes. “I never meant to. I forgot to write-“ Alma cut her off with a snort.

“Of course you did.” Alma took the nightgown from Y/N and dropped her towel and put it on. Feeling Y/N’s eyes on her. It made her shiver. Then she felt arms wrapped around her waist and a soft kiss on her right shoulder. “I’ve missed you. Please don’t leave again.” She felt Y/N shake her head and turned around in her arms and kissed her lover on the lips softly. Nearly losing herself in her lover’s lips. Laughing softly after feeling Y/N’s hands tickle her sides.

“I hate you.”

“You love me birdy.”

#alma peregrine x reader #alma peregrine #mphfpc

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for being Owen Grady’s child

Owen Grady x child!reader

warnings: knives, guns

a/n: i cannot remember the plot bare w me

prompt: being owen’s child

okay, let’s start with the fact that he’s a single dad

that did not stop him from raising you right

navy brat

after a little bit of instability during his years of service, he got a job as a raptor trainer

so you see, it wasn’t a typical childhood

you two moved to isla nublar so he could begin his work

“woah, that’s a dinosaur?”

“yeah, kiddo, she’s a velociraptor”

you were a bit older when you met the dinosaurs, so owen trusted you to be around them

“if you respect them, they’ll respect you”

blue took a liking to you pretty quick!!!

owen thought it was adorable the way you got along with the raptors

you were sort of like a co-trainer

living in that lil trailer

“this place is too small”

“quit your complaining and eat your mac and cheese”

your dad taught you how to fix cars and motorcycles

you did a bang-up job

“you really are my child. oh, my god, im so proud”

watching tv with owen all the damn time

it was usually cartoons though bc that was all he cared to watch

sometimes he forgets that you are not a raptor and you have to jog his memory

“can you get your hand out of my face before i tear it off?”

half of your holiday gifts are weapons

“look at this knife, y/n! it’s two inches longer than your old one. you’ll grow into it”

“dad, a knife is not a pair of pants...but thank you, i love it”

you’re pretty good at throwing knives, though. your dad put a target on a nearby tree for you to practice

every once in a while it’s gun practice, though

“okay, remember the proper foot stance...now arms. make sure not to lock up, make sure your fingers are clear from anything that could move...okay, go!”

there was a high level of trust between you and your dad

he ruffles your hair a lot, you used to care

you no longer care

you had free admission to the park, so sometimes you’d take the day off and wander around for a while

you always came home with a stuffed animal (or several)

“is that a stuffed pterodactyl?”

“his name is pterry”

“nice”

back to raptor training: you loved it!!!!!!!

training a dinosaur was nothing like training a dog, lemme tell you

these lovely dinos made you so happy!!!

they’re pretty at-ease when you’re nearby

arguing when anyone talks about using them for some sort of selfish profit

“they’re animals, dipshit! stop treating them like weapons!”

“mr. grady, are you going to tell your child to behave?”

“no, no i will not”

claire popping over to see your dad while you were working on his bike

because she suddenly needed your dad’s help

and wanted to exclude you until your dad said he wouldn’t do anything unless you had the opportunity to come along

“you know, y/n, i have a nephew who’s about the same age as you visiting here right now”

“how old am i, claire?”

she did not have a response

your dad was stifling chuckles

“nice one, kid” *high five*

tHe InDoMiNuS rEx

you: 👀

owen: 👀

yeah this was not gonna be good

tbh you almost died when you were surveying the cage

why? oh, i don’t know...because there was a BIG FUCKING DINOSAUR IN THAT BITCH

“y/n! under there!”

you ran ahead of owen and ducked under a truck where he soon followed (and dumped gasoline all over yall)

terrifying, truly

your dad did not want to let you out of his sight

not todayyyy

“are you okay, yeah?”

“perfect...”

busting into the control center :) tee hee

while owen was barking orders at people and telling them to not do what they were doing, you were sitting next to the guy with a bunch of dinosaurs on his desk

“you like them?”

“not really, i’m not five”

“oh...”

turning to the screen to see flatlining soldiers

“oh, shit. uh, that’s not good. you need to close the park maybe?”

they dont like listening to the child with the bright ideas ig

they did end up shutting off rides though. best they can do, huh?

claire couldnt get in contact with her nephews

you went after them together

it was a long ass journey

you almost died a few times

although your father did trust you to take care of yourself, even in a situation like this, he still was extremely worried for your safety

you got a gun :)

this was actually positively the worst day of your life

okay, it took a long while to catch up to claire’s nephews

“jesus, claire, you’re nephews sure know how to move. this is getting exhausting”

you didn’t find them until the......pterodactyls got loose

“pterry would never do something like this”

“not the time or place, y/n”

“sorry, dad”

finally finding those damn kids

“hey, i’m y/n, your crazy ass aunt just dragged me and my dad all the way around the island to find you!”

oh yeah a pterodactyl tackled your dad

whoop de do your gun was jammed

claire saved the day and all three of you witnessed their little display of pda amidst chaos

“wow, uh, maybe we’ll be cousins...”

your dad finally caved and agreed to use the raptors to find the indominus rex

and you got to prove your badassery out there

“you sure you’re up for this mission, y/n? you know you can stay with claire and the boys if you want”

“i’ll be okay, dad, i promise”

he gave you a hug

YOU GOT A MF MOTORCYCLE

okay i cant lie, you and your dad riding motorcycles side-by-side among velociraptors was probably the coolest thing you’ll ever get to do

but they, uh, kind of turned on you and next thing you know, you were speeding after the ambulance claire was driving

zach and gray were relieved to see you

you gave ‘em a little wave

“do you think we’ll ever be that cool?”

“gray, not now”

“i’m gonna take that as a ‘no’”

CLAIRE LET OUT THE MOTHERFUCKING T-REX

it was an Experience(tm)

you were split up from your dad and the boys while she was doing that

so you were deathly worried

running over there when it was safe

“is everyone alright?”

“define ‘alright’” -gray

“we’re fine, y/n” -zach

“are you okay?” -dad

“yeah, i think so”

this final battle between the dinosaurs was a bit shocking to watch, but it was hard to keep your eyes off

it all wrapped up and the dinos were let loose

and......the park got closed down

you and your dad were unemployed effective immediately

but your dad and claire finally got together

“you guys are sweet but are we all going to fit in that little camper?”

“we’ll make it work”

they did for a while

but there was a lot if arguing

your dad wanted to reside in the camper forever, claire didn’t, they broke up, you stayed with your dad to help him out during hard times, he decided to build a cabin

he claims he was not affected by the breakup but you knew better

you and your dad had an unbreakable bond, you’d been through so much together

it was only a matter of time before the world had something new in store for you and dad

taglist:

#owen grady #owen grady x reader #owen grady imagine #owen grady x daugter!reader #owen grady x child!reader #grady!reader #jurassic world imagine #jurassic world x reader #jurassic world #dad!owen grady

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let-the-dream-begin · 3 years

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 23: You Could Be

Chapter 22

Read on AO3

The rest of the week following Claire and Jamie’s second date passed rather hectically (they had decided to refer to it as such, even though Faith was there for half of it). Jamie had left on Wednesday night around one o’clock in the morning, Claire having fallen asleep close to the end of the movie. She’d garbled something unintelligible when Michael killed Fredo, something that she’d translated for him later to have meant: “Fucking traitor.”

He’d let her sleep, and when Claire had chided him about it, told him he should have woken her so they could talk or something, he’d just shrugged and said:

“Ye looked so bloody peaceful, mo nighean donn. Drool on my shoulder and all.”

That earned him a swat to the arm.

“I mean it. Holding ye while ye slept, not a care in the world…was like Heaven on Earth.”

That earned him a very generous kiss.

After saying goodnight, Claire collapsed into bed happy as a clam, and then the chaos began. She opened her eyes to Faith standing right next to her in bed, a la the twins in The Shining, and she’d nearly jumped out of her skin. The girl had proceeded to crawl right into bed with Claire, whining in protest when Claire’s alarm started going off. Claire tried to hold her off as long as possible, but when Mrs. Lickett knocked on the door and they were still in bed, she knew they were in trouble. The poor woman had to pry Faith off of Claire just so she could get ready for work, and she screamed her little head off the whole time. For some reason, Faith did not want Mummy going to work today, and did not want to be left with poor Mrs. Lickett.

There was no rhyme or reason to when Faith got in these moods; she just decided some days that Mummy was not going to leave. And, of course, with Claire’s chosen profession, she did not have the option to oblige her. Perhaps that was for the best; Mrs. Lickett did say they couldn’t always indulge her. But God, if it wouldn’t get her fired, Claire would get right back into bed and hold her baby until she calmed down, and she might never leave again.

Still hearing Faith scream even through the front door and then her car door, Claire finally shed a few overwrought, panicked tears. She glanced tearily at her phone in her bag, thinking to call Jamie, then talked herself out of it.

He doesn’t need to hear every time you’re going crazy, Beauchamp.

She put the key in the ignition, then caught sight of Faith in the window, slamming her palms on the glass, both Mrs. Lickett and Angus trying to talk some sense into her. And then she couldn’t stop herself.

She opened his contact and pressed the call button, put the phone on speaker, and put it in a pocket in the door before pulling out of the driveway. As the phone rang, she sniffled and swallowed thickly, even though she knew that her voice would give her away immediately. It rang for a while, and Claire immediately felt dread in the pit of her stomach, thinking he must be asleep. The stables didn’t open until ten, and she had him over until one.

Idiot.

Before she could panic-hang-up, it stopped ringing.

“Everything alright, Sassenach?”

“Oh,” she said stupidly, putting on her turn signal to get on the main road. “Hi, yes, everything is fine.”

“Are ye crying, Sassenach?” His voice was alert.

“No, I’m — I’m fine. I’m so sorry I woke you, I had you up so late — ”

“Forget that. I’m an early bird. What’s wrong?” It was gentle, soft, but insistent. He was not going to let her let this go.

Claire sighed. “Really, nothing is wrong. Not really. I’m just driving to work. And it’s already been…a day.”

“How’s that?”

So gentle.

“Faith did not want me to leave this morning. She just gets like that sometimes, doesn’t want me to go, doesn’t want to do anything Mrs. Lickett has planned for the day. She was screaming her poor head off and she didn’t even want anything to do with Angus, at least while I was there. I didn’t even get a chance to eat anything and I’m already getting a headache.” She chuckled nervously, wiping her eyes with one hand, keeping one on the wheel. “Sorry…I’m rambling.”

“Dinna be sorry, Claire. I’m sorry ye had a rough morning. And I’m sorry fer the wee lass. She misses ye when ye’re gone sometimes, eh?”

“Yeah…” she sighed sadly. “I suppose she does. She used to do it a lot more; there would be a meltdown every day I left the house. Every time I think she’s outgrown it, it comes back full force. And I just feel…awful just…leaving her like that. And I can’t call off for something that isn’t an emergency. I just can’t. And I…”

“Claire.”

She paused, having a feeling he was about to say something.

“Ye’re a good mam, Claire.”

She bit down on her lip fiercely, nearly losing sight of the road as her eyes watered.

“I ken ye dinna feel that way when ye have to leave her every day, and I canna imagine how that feels. But ye’re no’ the only mam that works, and it doesna matter that ye’re a single parent, either.”

Claire sniffled again, haphazardly wiping her eyes. “I just…I know that I do so much for her. I do know that. But on days like today…it just feels like I’ll never be enough, like I’ll never be able to give her everything she needs.”

“Christ, Sassenach, ye’re more than enough. Ye have to know that. Ye have to work to give her those things she needs. Ye have to know that, too. Ye’re doing the best ye can, and it’s great. Ye’re a good mother.”

Claire sniffled again, quite loudly, and she almost laughed at how gross she must have sounded on his end. “Thank you, Jamie. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Nothing at all is just fine.”

She pulled into the employee parking lot of the hospital, and she sighed heavily. “I’m…I’m sorry again to have woken you up like this — ”

“No apologies, mo nighean donn — ”

“And I’m sorry I have to go so soon; I’m already running late and I’m sure I’m going to be reamed — ”

“No need to explain yerself. Hang up the phone, get yerself calmed down, and get in there and save some lives. Aye?”

Claire laughed as she pulled into her spot. “Nothing like a pep-talk from coach Fraser to get me in the zone.”

He laughed as well. “Glad to hear it.”

Claire took the key out of the ignition and picked up her phone. “Thank you again, Jamie. Really. This was…more helpful than I can even explain.”

“No explanation needed. I get it. I mean I don’t get it-get it. But I…I understand.”

“Right.” She smiled fondly at his carefulness to not even imply that he really knew what it was like while still ensuring her that he understood her. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Aye. Let me know if she’s alright when ye go home. I hope work isna too rough on ye today.”

“I will. Thanks. Goodbye, Jamie.”

“G’bye, mo ghraidh.”

She hung up and held her phone to her chest for a moment, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

You’re fine, Beauchamp.

You’re a good mum, and a good doctor.

It was hard to believe even as she said it to herself, but she was at least able to get out of the car, checking how much of a wreck she was briefly in the rear-view mirror.

The day was just as hectic as it would be on an already bad day, and Claire was dead on her feet by the time she got to the break room, having not even had time for the shitty coffee it had to offer when she’d arrived. She collapsed in the chair nearest the door, pressing her eyes into her hand and watching the colors and shapes dance around in her head for a moment.

“Earth to Lady Jane.”

She inhaled sharply and picked her head up, finding Joe standing by the counter.

“Don’t fall asleep on me without getting a load of this.”

“What…?” She reluctantly heaved herself out of her chair and trudged toward the counter where Joe was smirking at a brown paper bag and a styrofoam coffee cup that did not belong to the hospital.

“What’s this…?” Claire said.

“Been here all morning. Louise said a very attractive redhead dropped it off for Doctor Beauchamp.”

Claire felt her face melt into the most ridiculously liquid smile. “He did not…”

She opened the bag to find a napkin sitting on top with writing scrawled in black pen:

Sassenach,

Got ye a BEC (that’s bacon egg and cheese) since you didn’t have breakfast. Plain bagel since I don’t know your preference (remind me to ask you that). Figured you forgot to pack lunch as well, so I got you a deli sandwich I thought you’d like. That coffee reheated is still better than the shite in your break room, I promise ye that. Good deli; I’m good friends with the owner. Great guy. Have to take you someday.

Hope this helps,

JAMMF

Claire shook her head in disbelief, handing Joe the napkin to read.

“Damn,” he said. “That man is too much.”

Claire pulled out her BEC and unwrapped it, melting into a nearby chair as she ate. Joe popped her coffee into the microwave for her and sat down next to her.

“Too much indeed,” Claire garbled, mouth full of food. “He’s too good to be true.”

“But it’s true, Lady Jane.” He patted her knee.

“Yeah…” She smiled dreamily. “It is.”

——

Saturday was another date-night, or rather date-afternoon. They went to see The Free State of Jones at the movie theater since it had been out for about a month and Jamie had been wanting to see it. Evidently, Jamie was more of a history buff than Claire had picked up on, and she thoroughly enjoyed watching him absorb the movie, and she also enjoyed the movie quite a lot herself. She knew next to nothing about the American Civil War aside from what was to be seen in Gone With the Wind.

They'd managed to keep kissing to a minimum in the theater, but they weren't completely prudish. There were, after all, only eight other people in the entire theater, and they were spread out enough that they managed to share a few lingering kisses. But outside of that, they actually watched the movie, and Claire did not fall asleep.

“I didna bore ye wi' my long movie this time, Sassenach?” Jamie teased as they left the building.

“Oh, don't even. I worked all day Wednesday, and it was past my bedtime,” Claire shot back. “And besides, I still retained what happened. I just retained this movie…better.”

Jamie tossed back his head in a barking laugh as they got into his car. He brought her to a pizzeria, and the man behind the counter cried out with joy to see Jamie.

“Hey! It's Fraser!”

“Hallo, Vinny,” Jamie called back, putting his hand on the small of Claire's back.

“And who is this?” the dark-haired, red-faced man asked.

“This,” Jamie flashed a smile at Claire, swelling with pride, “is my girlfriend. Claire Beauchamp.”

“A girlfriend!” Vinny boomed. “Hey! Luca!” He shouted at the door that Claire presumed led to the kitchen. His New York-Italian accent increased dramatically when he yelled. “Fraser’s got a girl here!”

Claire felt herself blushing fiercely, and Vinny reached over the glass display of pizza slices to shake her hand.

“Great to meet you, Claire.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Claire answered, shaking his hand.

“Ha!” Vinny laughed heartily, squeezing her hand and giving it another shake. “What’d ya do? Send for her from across the ocean?”

Jamie joined him in laughter. “She found me, actually. Her Englishness is a complete coincidence.”

“My daughter is a client at Harmony Stables,” Claire chimed in. “That’s how we met.”

“Oh! Well I’ll be damned! Hey! Luca! Get out here!” He yelled back again unexpectedly, causing Claire to jump a little. “Goddamn, Fraser, look at her!”

“Aye, I ken.” Claire blushed fiercely as Jamie swelled with pride again, squeezing her shoulder and pressing her into his side. “I’m a lucky man.”

“Ya gotta bring your daughter here sometime. I’d love to meet her,” Vinny said, leaning against the counter. “I know most of those kids already, but I think I’d remember you.”

Claire smiled.

“Vinny’s is where we get the pizza fer events,” Jamie explained. “All the kids know him by name.”

“Oh! Well then I’m already a happy customer,” Claire said with a chuckle.

“What’s her name?” Vinny asked.

“Faith.”

“Beautiful! Ya gotta bring her by, I just love those kids — ”

Just then, the kitchen doors opened, and a man who could have been a second Vinny burst in, apparently Luca.

“Well I’ll be damned!”

Claire chuckled to herself; they even said the same words in the same exact way.

“Where the hell did you find her?” Luca said.

“This is my brother, Luca. Vincent Senior is our old man. He’s around sometimes, just not today,” Vinny explained. “This is Claire Beauchamp. From England.”

“Great to meet you! Whatsamatter, couldn’t find a girl around here?” Luca ribbed, shaking Claire’s hand.

“Ye need original content, Luca,” Jamie said. “Yer brother said the same thing.”

“Alright, alright, enough gawking at the poor thing,” Vinny interrupted. “What can I get for ya?”

“The usual fer me,” Jamie said. “How about you, Sassenach?”

“What’s your usual?” she asked.

“Buffalo chicken slice.”

She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Yucking someone else’s yum again?” He cocked a brow at her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Do you have a meat lover’s slice? Something like that?”

“Sure do.”

“Alright, I’ll have that.”

“Anything to drink?”

“Just water for me,” Claire said.

“Ginger ale fer me,” Jamie said.

Claire pulled out her wallet.

“What are ye doing?”

“Paying for our lunch.”

“Sassenach — ”

“Jamie, you paid for that obscenely expensive food last week, and the carnival tickets, and you bought all the ingredients for that bloody lasagna. Not to mention today’s movie. Let me pay for one thing. I’m a doctor for Christ’s sake, it’s not as if I can’t afford some bloody pizza.”

Without another word, Claire handed Vinny her credit card, and Jamie did not try to fight her. Vinny’s brows were nearly at his hairline, and he was clearly fighting the urge to grin.

“I like this one, Fraser!” Luca called, shoveling their slices into the oven before departing into the kitchen.

Claire tried to hide her smirk of pride as she signed the receipt.

“So you’re a doctor?” Vinny said. “Stony Brook?”

“Yes, Emergency Medicine,” Claire said proudly. “Still a residency, but yes.”

“Goddamn, Fraser,” Vinny said again, shaking his head as he returned Claire’s card. “Don’t you even think about letting this one go.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Jamie winked, and then led Claire to a table.

“So, are you friends with every small business owner on Long Island?” Claire asked, flashing a glance at Vinny.

“Not every…but a fair amount,” he said. “Sorry about that, by the way. I should’ve warned ye that they’d be…curious. About my having a lass wi’ me.”

She chuckled. “That’s alright. They’re fun.”

“Didna scare ye away?”

“Not at all.” She laced their fingers together on the table.

They began discussing the movie and all the tangents it brought up, and then Vinny came by with their individual slices. Claire should have realized that Jamie would have ordered two slices; she didn’t even notice on her receipt.

“How you can eat neon orange on pizza is beyond me,” she said, watching him take a bite.

“Dinna like spicy, Sassenach?”

“I didn’t say that,” she said. “Buffalo chicken is a chicken wing flavor, not a pizza flavor. Two worlds that should not collide.”

He made an amused Scottish noise and took another bite. “So ye like buffalo wings then?”

“I’ve been known to handle a few.”

“We’ll have to test that someday.”

She hummed in amusement, and then dug into her own slice. Jamie was finished with both of his slices before Claire was finished with her one slice, even though she could tell he’d been trying to pace himself to be polite. Before they left, Claire ordered a plain slice for Faith to eat when she got home, since it would be dinner time shortly. Faith didn’t mind an off-routine early dinner if she was getting something special like pizza. Jamie also ordered them Italian ices, lemon for him and rainbow for Claire, and she caught him trying to pay for the ices and Faith’s dinner. One look was enough to have him putting his wallet back in his pocket, and this time, Vinny did laugh out loud.

With an aggressively friendly slap on Jamie's shoulder, Vinny bid them farewell, and they headed back to Claire's apartment. Though Faith was normally over the moon at the return of her mother (especially if she had Jamie with her), she remained entirely nonplussed at their arrival, entirely too focused on the puzzle she was doing with Delia. It wasn't until Claire said the word “pizza” that Faith sprung up from the coffee table and started pawing at her mother’s legs.

“That’s what I thought,” Claire said with a chuckle. “Yes, I know.” Faith reached up for the pizza and moaned in annoyance as Claire held it higher. “Pizza after you say goodbye to your friend and to Auntie Gail.”

Faith screwed up her face in protest, making exaggerated whining noises, but Claire just stared her down. “Stop whining, and be polite. Say goodbye.”

Faith turned around and gave Delia a reluctant hug, which Claire had to remind Faith to be gentle with in her reluctance. She hugged Gail with the same begrudging attitude, and then she began tugging on Claire’s shirt to pull her into the kitchen.

Claire looked back and forth between Faith and Gail and Delia.

“Jamie, can you go with her?” She handed him the box containing Faith’s slice, and he nodded wordlessly.

“C’mon lass. Let’s get ye settled fer supper.”

Claire shook her head in exasperation as she thanked Gail for babysitting once again, and then saw them off outside. By the time she got back to the kitchen, Faith was already sitting at the table with her pizza slice shaped plate, Jamie nearly finished cutting up the slice.

“How did you know about the pizza plate?” Claire said, amused.

“Well, I tried putting it on a normal plate, and she wasna having that. Tried one of those princess plates I ken ye’ve got, didna work either. Then she dragged me to the cabinet and wouldna move ’til I found this.” He finished cutting the pizza, having kept the general shape of it to fit the shape of the plate.

Claire’s grin was unabashedly enormous, and she closed the gap between them, meeting him behind Faith’s chair.

“Excellent work, detective.” He smirked, and she leaned in to kiss him, emboldened by Faith’s lack of attention, focused as she was on eating her pizza. Jamie hummed with amused contentment into the kiss, causing a brief vibrating sensation against her lips.

Jamie trailed his fingertips up over her hips to rest on the small of her back, pointedly avoiding her arse. Claire groaned in annoyance, but grinned anyway, pulling away to rest their foreheads together, draping her arms around his neck. For a moment, they just swayed absently to the music of Faith’s humming to the tune of “Someday My Prince Will Come,” not skipping a beat even as she chewed.

It wasn’t long at all before Faith pushed her plate away and hoisted herself up onto her knees, turning around to stand on the chair and tap on both of their heads. They both laughed softly.

“All done, lovie?” Claire took her hands off Jamie so she could sign. “All done?”

Faith repeated the sign lazily, and Claire was about to correct her when she started jumping in the chair, pointing at the freezer.

“Woah! Careful there, lass. Remember what Mam said about climbing, aye?” Without thinking, Jamie scooped her up from under her arms, lifted her over the back of the chair, and deposited her safely onto the ground.

Claire thought absolutely nothing of it, starting to head over to the freezer for Faith’s ice cream, but then Jamie froze. He drew away from Faith quickly yet gently, looking up at Claire, absolutely mortified.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I should have asked. I’ve no right tae just pick her up like that. I’m sorry, Claire.”

Faith was none the wiser; she flitted over to the freezer.

“Jamie,” Claire said quickly, reaching for his hands. “She’s fine.” She maintained eye contact to emphasize her point, but the worry between his furrowed brows would not ease. “She’s been letting you touch her for a while now. That was perfectly normal for her. And perfectly natural for you to do it.”

“Are ye…are ye sure…?”

Claire still held his gaze as she raised his hands to her lips and kissed them fervently. “She trusts you, Jamie.”

Faith gave a small shout then, apparently not at all pleased that her request for ice cream was going ignored for so long.

“You ok?” Claire asked.

“Aye, sorry,” he chuckled. “Wee panic over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” Claire left his side to open the freezer, and Faith began bouncing with joy. “It makes perfect sense that you’d be afraid to cross that boundary with her. But I think in her head, you’re already past that point.”

She reached into the cabinet for a bowl and then the drawer for a spoon.

“I, uh…” Jamie stammered. “Hadna realized, I suppose.”

“You really don’t know how special you are to her? — Yes, yes, go sit down.” Claire crossed the kitchen to put down the ice cream in Faith’s spot.

“I suppose I…hoped. But I never wanted to assume,” Jamie said sheepishly. “I ken ye say I’m ‘dating’ ye both, but I didna ken if she…knew that.”

Claire chuckled softly, caressing Faith’s curly head as her spoon clanked against her bowl. “I think she does.”

Jamie’s grin widened lopsidedly, and Claire had to physically restrain herself from jumping into his arms and kissing him senseless.

“Ye’ll tell me, though? If I need to pull back wi’ her?”

“I think she would tell you, loud and clear,” Claire said dryly, her eyes full of mirth. “No, I know what you mean. And yes, I would. Surely it’s not the same with you as it is for me where you can just snatch her like I have to sometimes. It’s a bit different, as…”

“Her parent,” Jamie finished for her, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah.”

“Believe me, I understand. I ken I’m no’ her parent.”

Claire’s stomach flipped; not at what he said, but at what her brain decided to say after he said it.

You could be.

“Right,” she said instead, internally yelling back at herself that she was a nutter for thinking something so bloody serious about a man who she’d gone on a first date with a week ago. “But you’re…building something different, special in its own way. You both need time before you have to start laying down the law like I have to.”

“Aye, I understand.”

“But,” Claire said, finally making her way over to him and taking his hands again. “You can pick her up if it looks like she wants you to, you can hold her hand, hug her, whatever it seems she wants from you.” Jamie nodded, his eyes lighting up. “You read her well enough at this point. You’ll know.”

“Aye. I will.”

Claire pecked him gently. When she pulled away, Jamie was not looking at her, but instead looking out of the corner of his eye. When Claire followed his gaze, she caught Faith flitting out of the kitchen, hands and face still smeared with chocolate ice cream.

“Oh no you don’t!” Claire rushed to snatch Faith by the wrist and drag her back into the kitchen and toward the sink. “There will be no watching any movie that gets smothered with ice cream.”

Faith squirmed in annoyance and tried to get away, and then Claire got an idea.

“Hey, hey, listen, Faith,” she said. “Why doesn’t Jamie help you wash your hands? Hm?”

She looked up to Jamie, and he immediately sprang into action. “Right, how does that sound, lass?”

Faith immediately stopped fighting, and she turned around to face Jamie, holding up her messy hands expectantly. Jamie chuckled and turned on the water, then lifted her under the arms so she could reach the running water.

“Very good, give them a good scrub,” he crooned, and she obeyed clumsily. “Give yer face a good scrub too, aye? Dinna want chocolate-mouth fer yer movie. Aye, good girl.”

Claire stood there against the counter, paper towel ready for drying, her heart swelling three sizes.

How could I ever have thought we’d be better off without him…?

So occupied she was with adoration, she nearly missed when Faith was back on the ground and Jamie turned off the taps.

“Good job, Faithie,” Claire said, crouching down to wipe her face clean of any more smudges, using the lingering water on her face, then dried her hands. “Alright, all done. Let’s pick a movie, shall we?”

They shifted into the living room, where Faith retrieved Monsters, Inc., and they settled into their usual positions. Claire didn’t have a shift this week that ended early enough for Jamie to have time to come over and make dinner before Faith’s bedtime, so they were getting in their movie time tonight. Since dinner was a bit earlier than normal, the movie also ended a bit earlier than normal. They finished the puzzle that Faith hadn’t finished with Delia, then started and finished another one, all while Faith’s music played from Claire’s phone, with the occasional interruption for a little dance.

When bedtime rolled around, Jamie said goodnight to Faith, earning a pat on the cheek before she scurried off. After the whole routine, Claire poured them drinks and nuzzled into him on the couch. She flicked Netflix on and let The Office start playing from a random episode in the middle of season three.

“Ye’re like a wee kitten,” Jamie said.

“What?” She craned her neck to pick her head up from its spot on his chest.

“The way ye’re stretched out and balled up at the same time, all over me.”

Claire made an indignant little “hmph” sound, but made no attempt to move; she, in fact, buried herself in further.

“I hope you’re at least a cat person,” she said.

He made an amused Scottish noise. “More of a dog person, really. No’ those wee yapping ones; I need a beast wi’ more substance. Like Angus. That’s a fine creature.”

Claire scoffed indignantly, sitting up and facing him. “So you tell me I’m a kitten and then tell me you don’t like cats.”

“Didna say I didna like ’em.”

“You may as well have.”

“Och, Sassenach.” He leaned in, his lips lingering inches from hers. “Ye ken by now I like having ye on top of me, feline or no.”

He made to close the gap, to kiss her, but Claire leaned back, causing him to chase after her and open his eyes when he didn’t make contact. Claire laughed at the unconscious pout he made. “What on Earth ever made me think you were the smoothest talker I ever met?”

“Dinna ken about that. My foot ends up in my mouth quite more than I’d care to admit.”

“Hm. Indeed.”

“I’d much rather…” He moved in closer, and Claire had no further to go, stuck against the arm of the couch. “Have something else in my mouth.”

“Oh?” She raised a brow, then darted her tongue out to lick her lips, far too slowly. “What could that be?”

He growled possessively and claimed her lips with his, and she moaned lightly against them. She did not waste any time before obliging him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and mingling it with his. They lingered like this for a moment, performing the carefully and repeatedly rehearsed dance of lips and tongue, then they parted, Jamie folding her into himself again. They focused lazily on the tellie for a bit before Jamie broke the silence.

“Ye ever seen the beaches around here, Sassenach?”

“No, actually. Seems silly after how long I’ve been here now.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I was just thinking about my own family dogs running around on the beaches in Scotland — ”

“So now you were thinking of dogs while kissing me?”

“And I — Och, come off it.” He playfully swatted her arse, causing her to squeak and swat him back, directly on his left pectoral. “I was thinking that it would be nice to take Faith. She likes the water, aye?”

“Yes, she’s obsessed, ever since she was a baby. Bath time is a field day. Ever since I took her to the Abernathy’s pool that one time, every time Gail comes over Faith scurries into her room for her bathing suit.”

Jamie laughed softly. “She kens what she wants.”

“Indeed.”

“So…what d’ye think? Would she be alright if there was a crowd?”

“Well…we won’t know unless we try. And Angus is helpful during stable events. So maybe she’ll be alright.”

“Aye, he’s a service dog so he’ll be allowed on any beach we choose.”

Claire got an image in her head of Faith squishing sand in her hands, loving the sensory aspect of it, squealing as cold water rushed over her toes.

“If she canna handle it we’ll have a backup plan. We can take her to the stables and use the sprinkler from the Fourth of July. Fill a kiddie pool or something.”

Claire felt warmth spread from head to toe. He knew without having to ask that even if Faith didn’t want to be at the beach, if she was in her bathing suit, she’d be expecting a water activity and would not be happy doing anything else.

She sat up and tenderly kissed his check, caressing his stubbled chin and jaw. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

He smiled and took her caressing hand in both of his, then kissed her knuckles. “Alright. That’s braw. I ken most of the beaches, so I ken the ones that are most crowded, the ones that play loud live music, which ones have sand or rocks. Faith’ll want sand, of course.”

She smiled, nodding. “Right.”

“Next Saturday? I’ll prepare the lunches, you prepare the bairn and the dog?”

“Yes, okay. That’s perfect.”

Seemingly from sheer excitement nearly bubbling over, Jamie kissed her soundly.

“I’ll start preparing her starting tomorrow, give her a rundown of the routine — ”

“I’ll arrive at nine to pick ye both up — ”

“Great, I can tell her what time she needs to wake up, what time breakfast needs to be finished, what time she needs to dress and lotion up — ”

“Have her bring her tablet in the car, the beach I have in mind is an hour away — ”

“I’ll lay some towels on the living room floor, and we’ll practice staying on the towel so maybe she won’t bolt while we’re there — ”

“Fine idea. That’s braw.”

They were talking over each other, stumbling over their words like a couple of school children talking about recess. They shook their heads at themselves, then shared another kiss, lingering with their foreheads together.

“D’ye think it’ll ever stop?”

“What?”

“This…feeling. Like I’m…gonna burst at the thought of seeing ye again, even when ye’re still right in front of me.”

Claire pulled away only enough so that she could meet his eye and caress his chin.

“I don't know. But I hope it never does.”

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talesofargante · 3 years

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The Guardian of Trollhunters Episode 4: Part 1 - Saved By The Bell

Pairing: Jim Lake Jr. x Liz Walker (OFC)

Episode Summary: While Jim gets a crash course in troll history from Blinky and begins his first mission as the Trollhunter, Liz juggles to balance her time as Guardian and Juliet. However, more is added to her plate when she senses trouble brewing on the horizon of Arcadia Oaks.

Words: 3k

Warning: innuendo (if I miss any warnings please lmk)

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[Episode 4 - Gnome Your Enemy]

While Jim gets a crash course in troll history from Blinky and begins his first mission as the Trollhunter, Liz juggles to balance her time as Guardian and Juliet. However, more is added to her plate when she senses trouble brewing on the horizon of Arcadia Oaks.

Liz Walker POV

Another class ended as the school bell rang, signaling the beginning of recess. Since the announcement of Romeo and Juliet's final casting, Liz has been getting congratulations from several students, including Claire's friends, Mary Wang and Darci Scott. Even though Claire did not get the part, Claire showed support for Liz, which they respect as her closest friends.

Shaking off her thoughts on the play, Liz heads to the courtyard towards her designated locker. Opening it, she switched her books for the ones she needed for her following classes. Sensing a presence standing behind her open locker door, she speaks. "Is there something I could help you with..."

Having the books she needed, Liz closes her locker to reveal Jim, who smiles sheepishly as she turns to him. "...Jim?"

"Hey, yeah, I do need your help, actually. Uh, do you remember me mentioning my Spanish comprehensive exam coming up during dinner a few nights ago? I remembered that you said you can speak Spanish, and I was wondering if you could help me out?" Jim asked anxiously.

Liz chuckled. "I remembered, but I was just waiting for you to ask me again, in case you forgot. So yes, I'll help you."

Jim breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I really need all the help I can get."

Placing a hand on her hip, Liz nodded. "No kidding. Not only are you busy with school, but also with training as well. Must be hard for you."

"You're definitely right about that," Jim says. "How do you do this?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Liz asks in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"How do you balance your life training as a Guardian while attending school?" Jim asked.

"Oh. Well, most of my training took place while I was homeschooled. That is until I moved to New Jersey and started attending actual school there. By then, I already had most of my training completed, so I've been mostly focused on school." Liz explained. Jim groans. "Lucky. Wish I was homeschooled."

Liz chuckled at his remark, shaking her head. "You say that now, but trust me, it gets really boring fast. Anyways, you're not alone in this. Don't forget to reach out when you need help like you just did, and you'll be fine."

"I'll be sure to remember that." Jim nods. Liz grinned. "Great. Now about your exam, I can help you study for it tonight since I have work after school. Is that okay?"

Jim responds. "Yeah, tonight's okay with me. I didn't know you were working."

"I work part-time at a cafe in town. Mr. Benoit's French Bistro." Liz said. Jim immediately recognized the name. "Oh! I know that place. My mom likes getting her coffee from there."

Liz chuckled. "Funny, that's where Barbara and I first met before she invited me over for dinner to get to know you since she learned that we're attending the same school together."

Jim's eyes widened in realization. "So that's how Mom met you. I've been wondering this whole time."

"Yups. In fact, she suggested that you should give me a tour one day of Arcadia Oaks since I'm new to the neighborhood." Liz said with a side smile. Jim laughed. "More like the opposite. You've been literally giving me a tour of a secret world right beneath our feet."

Liz quickly brings a pointer finger to her lips, looking around them for anyone within hearing distance. "Shhh. Don't mention that here. Someone might hear you."

Immediately, Jim covers his mouth with his hand. "Ah, sorry."

The brunette sighs. "Where do you want to meet tonight?"

"Oh, I can't exactly go anywhere on a school night," Jim answered. Quirking an eyebrow, Liz stared at Jim for a silent moment. Noticing this, Jim responds. "What?"

"Recently, you've been going home late on a school night because of training. It doesn't make a difference if you're out late at night to study." Liz pointed out.

"Yeah, but I think Mom will eventually notice if I keep doing this, and I don't want to make her worry. She has enough on her plate already as it is." Jim explains. Liz contemplated this and slowly nodded in understanding. "Okay, then. I'll just meet you at your place."

Jim shook his head and waved his hands. "No, I don't want you to be driving home late at night after studying with me. It's too dangerous."

The corner of Liz's lips turned upright at that, revealing a teasing grin. "Aw, are you worried about my safety?"

The boy's face starts to flush at the question as he rubs the back of his neck. "No -- I-I mean yes, of course, I am. It's just -- I-I'm just saying that it would be safer if we meet up virtually. Since we don't know how long we might study for."

"Wait a minute, how long are we actually going to be studying?" Liz questioned, placing her hand on her hips. "Don't tell me you're going to keep me up all night long, are you?"

Unbeknownst to them, a male student passing nearby looked at them like a gaping fish when he overheard Liz's last words. At this point, Jim was completely red in the face while Liz was wondering why he was blushing. Was it something she said?

Liz sighed. "We can meet virtually if you want, and I'll stay up to help you in any way I can. I can be flexible."

Liz thought Jim couldn't get any redder, but to her surprise, he did. She could almost imagine smoke coming out of his ears. Before Liz could ask about his reaction, a voice called out her name behind her. "Liz!"

Turning around, Liz finds Claire walking up to her. "Hey, Claire. What's up?"

"Just passing by. I just so happen to see you and Jim talking right after bumping into Ms. Janeth earlier in the hallways. She wanted me to remind you and Jim about your next rehearsal scheduled tomorrow night." Claire said.

"Oh, that's right! Thanks for the reminder, Claire. I'll set the alarm for it to remind me tomorrow, just in case." Liz pulls out her phone from her jacket pocket and begins setting up an alarm as Claire glances behind her. "Um, are you okay there, Jim? You look flushed."

"I-I'm okay. Just--uh, feeling a little hot is all." Jim says, his hand covering his lower face as he tries to hide his reddened face and cool down. Hearing what Liz said sent his mind into overdrive, thinking of things he shouldn't have and causing him to blush intensely at the notion. Mentally, he's kicking himself in the nards for his thoughts. Stupid, teenage hormones.

"Uh, okay. Anyways, don't forget, Liz. You too, Jim." Claire says, unaware that Jim was only half-listening. Once Claire leaves, and Liz puts away her phone, Liz turns back to Jim. Noticing his face still red with his hand covering it, Liz began to worry. "Are you okay, Jim? Is there something wrong? Was it something I said earlier?"

Jim rapidly shakes his head and hands. "No, no. I'm okay, Liz. I was just overthinking things. You know, because of the exam, the training before the match, and all the other stuff."

"Oh, I see." Liz can understand where Jim was coming from. He has a lot on his plate now, more than any regular teenager out there. Besides herself, that is. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can help you with your school studies sometimes so you can balance your time with training. That way, you won't feel overwhelmed."

Calming a little with her words, Jim starts to regain his normal color and replies. "I appreciate that. Thanks, Liz."

Liz smiles softly. "No problem. So I guess I'll see you tonight on zoom then. Shall we meet at seven?"

"Okay." Jim nodded. Liz nods. "Alright."

Both teenagers stood there in awkward silence for a few seconds. Before more could be said between them, the school bell rang, signaling the end of recess, and everyone went back to their classes. The two teenagers said their goodbyes and went separate ways, thankful for being saved by the bell.

***

As planned for that night at seven o'clock, the two meet through zoom from their homes. Once Jim explained what the exam focuses on, and Liz understood, they went straight to business, reviewing his Spanish comprehension and presentation together as a unit. During their study session, Jim speaks up. "I know this is out of the blue, but when will I start training for the match with Draal?"

Liz looks up to the screen. "Starting tomorrow evening, but we have rehearsal after, so we might have to keep it short."

"Sounds like a plan. The last time we trained, I remember we went over the basics. Any hint on what you will be training me next?" Jim asks. Liz responds. "Nope, you'll have to find out tomorrow evening."

"I had a feeling you would say that," Jim said as Liz looked down on her desk. "Glad you're catching up."

While reviewing once more, another thought pops into Jim's mind regarding her missing childhood memories. "Hey, Liz. I have a question."

"What is it?" Liz asked, continuing on her homework. Jim continues. "Have you ever thought about looking into your past and recovering your memories? If you did, would you search for them since you've returned to Arcadia?"

Liz's head slowly lifts up at the question, her turquoise eyes gazing back onto the screen. "That's more than one question you just asked. But anyway, I have always thought about it. Constantly, I might add. I guess I've been so focused on helping you become the Trollhunter, adjusting to school, practicing for the play, and working to pay rent, that I didn't have time to act on it since my return."

"Sounds like I'm not the only one struggling to keep up with two lives," Jim responded, happy to hear that Liz had thought about recovering her memories. Now, he just has to help her recover them. "If you want, I can help you get your memories back."

Eyebrows raised in surprise at his offer, Liz asks. "You would do that for me?"

"Of course, I would. You're already helping me with training and studying for my exam, it's the least that I could do for you."

"Wow, that's...that's really great. I appreciate that. Thanks, Jim," Liz responded with a soft smile crossing her lips. The next thing Jim knew, he finds himself smiling back. Every time Liz smiles, it always makes him want to smile back. It's a smile that Jim always wants to see. "Anytime, Liz."

Before Jim could let himself be lost to her smile, Liz's earlier words came to mind. Something about paying rent. Is she living by herself? "If you don't mind me asking, are you living by yourself? Blinky mentioned that you no longer live in Trollmarket."

"Oh, no I'm not living by myself. That's too expensive with only being a part-time worker. I share a unit with a roommate. We each pay half our rent." Liz replied. Jim nodded. "That makes sense."

"Why do you ask?" Liz asked. Jim merely shrugs. "Just wondering since you came to my house, but I never went to your place."

"Are you saying that I should even the playing field and let you come over? But that would be breaking the rule." Liz said. Quirking an eyebrow, Jim asks. "What rule?"

"No boys allowed," Liz responded with a wink. This made Jim blush. "Oh! That's--I--y-you're right. Forget what I said."

Liz chuckled, not sharing the facts that 1) her roommate is a boy and 2) Douxie, protective as he was, came up with that rule. A rule was established after inviting a guy friend over once and let's just say it didn't end well.

But that's a story for another time.

Jim Lake Jr. POV

The next evening, Jim was disappointed to learn that he would be getting a history lesson from Blinky rather than active training with Liz. When Jim and Toby arrive at the Hero's Forge, they only see Blinky waiting for them with a large book in his arms. Jim brought his textbook with him, hoping to clarify things when he sees her in Trollmarket, but he notices missing. "Where's Liz? I thought she would be here."

"Lady Liza will not be joining us this evening. She is preoccupied with her human job in the surface world. As for now, Master Jim, I will be mentoring you on the history of Trollhunters." Blinky replied.

Toby groans. "Aw, man. I thought we were going to learn how to kick butt today. Instead, we're getting a bedtime story."

"Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. So I highly suggest you get comfortable and listen carefully, for you will hear the legendary tale that started it all."

Reluctantly, Jim and Toby settled themselves on the hard ground as AAARRRGGHH sat behind them. Clearing his throat, Blinky begins. "For centuries, the troll and human worlds stood separate and at peace, divided by bridges that acted as doorways between our two realms. But the Gumm-Gumms wanted to devour all of mankind. They were led by Gunmar the Black. The rest of trollkind fought against him, culminating in the great Battle of Killahead Bridge, the portal to Gunmar's Darklands. After many moons, good triumphed over evil, and our great Trollhunter, Deya the Deliverer and the legendary Guardian, locked Gunmar away, exiling him to the Darklands, and sealed the Killahead Bridge with the sacred amulet. After, we tore it apart, stone by stone. We left the old world in search of peace. We stowed away on a ship called the Mayflower, just a handful of us and some gnomes we'd brought along for companionship and nourishment. Finally, we arrived in a strange and exotic realm."

"New Jersey." AAARRRGGHH included. Blinky continues. "We kept walking. Eventually, we came across a new Heartstone, and we realized we had found a new home...under Arcadia."

Blinky finished, his hands pulling down the book to reveal Toby, leaning forward, deep into the story, AAARRRGGHH matching Toby's posture. At the same time, Jim was asleep, another open book in his lap. Blinky groaned and quietly walked to Jim, Toby, and AAARRRGGHH, watching as Blinky slammed the book shut. Jim woke with a startle, screaming in Spanish. "Lo Siento, Senor Draal! No me mates!"

"The training of troll history might seem like a minor duty, Master Jim, but --" Blinky points out, but Jim quickly interrupted. "Sorry, I pulled an all-nighter studying with Liz for my Spanish Comprehensive exam, and my brain is muy gooey. I don't know. I guess I thought if I'm facing Draal in a week, my training would be a little more... active."

Jim stands with a stretch and a yawn, AAARRRGGHH doing the same. Toby hopped over excitedly and pretended to fight Jim to make an emphasis. "Yeah, like, when is he going to learn Troll-kwondo? Or Rock-itsu?"

Toby snaked his arm around Jim's shoulders, pulling him down to his size. Blinky declares in seriousness. "Before one fights, Toby D., one must understand why one fights. For these precious early steps will decide whether a young Trollhunter will become a Deya, the Deliverer...."

He gestures toward the stone statue of said first Trollhunter.

"Or Unkar the Unfortunate." AAARRRGGHH finishes, pointing out the cowering figure of said Trollhunter.

Jim and Toby share a look before Jim steps up to his trainer. "Well, tomorrow, my Spanish exam is with Senor Uhl the Unforgiving. My main concern is for my immediate future."

"A-ha! But, to learn what will happen in the future, one must only look to the past." Blinky dropped the large book into Jim's hands. The boy groaned as his body dropped with the new heavyweight in his hand. "I recommend A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore by the venerable Bedehilde. Volume one of 47. Lady Liza has read all of them, so I expect nothing less from you, Master Jim."

"All of them?" Toby says in shock. Blinky nodded, confirming. "Every single page of each and every volume."

"Okay, but if I don't pass the exam, I'm grounded, and I can't be the Trollhunter. Sorry, Blinky, but the amulet chose me, and now I have two lives to keep up." Jim says as he backs up. The sound of vast footsteps stomping into the Hero's Forge, a female troll running up to Blinky with panic. Her quick breaths worried Blinky further. "Oh, no. Is it the Heartstone?"

Bagdwella shook her head. "No, no!"

"Stalkling?" AAARRRGGHH asked.

"Is Bular in Trollmarket?" Jim asked in great concern. Bagdwella cries out, waving her arms hysterically as her voice echoes throughout the vast arena.

"No! Gnome! Rogue gnome!"

Hello there!

I hope you enjoyed the first part of Episode 4!

If you are interested in reading more, click on the links provided below!

This fanfiction story will be posted on Wattpad, Archive of Our Own, and Tumblr. However, Wattpad will serve as the original site for this story, so the latest updates will be there.

While reading, feel free to leave a comment [keep it negative-free, would you? thanks :)] or critique. I appreciate the feedback. And along the way, if you like the journey so far, leave a star, a kudos, or/and heart to vote! If you have any questions, feel free to ask as well and I’ll do my best to answer without giving any spoilers ;)

Again, thank you for taking the time to read this and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

Happy reading!

- Miss_Nightingale

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#talesofargante #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #talesofarcadia #tales of arcadia fanfic #toa #trollhunter #guardian #jimxoc #fanfic #fanfiction #jim lake jr #wattpad #tumblr #ao3 #jimlakejr #my oc story #oc

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mercurygray · 3 years

Text

Rewatching S2 of Outlander and went back through some old drafts.

Anyway, here's Rosamund.

People assumed it was the war that had changed him.

Coming back to Oxford, colleagues and acquaintances who hadn’t known of his marriage assumed, as was natural, perhaps, that Frank was just another man whose time in the Army had changed him into something colder, quieter, closer. No one thought to ask about that lovely girl he’d been seeing before the war. Hardly anyone had known they’d actually gotten married, and those that did hadn’t known her well, her face vague, even her name somewhere out beyond a horizon, a poorly defined shape. Quentin’s niece - Claire, was it?

She’d simply been lost in the flotsam of war, one more young woman whose work had carried her away from Oxford. Those that had known her took her absence as a death, and did not dare ask why. Death was all too common among their age.

Frank let them think what they liked - it was easier than explaining.

He came back to his books, and his students, and let them think him a bitter widower, his ring an afterthought he couldn’t quite bring himself to take off. He moved back into his old rooms, shifting books back into his shelves and papers back into his desk and tried to return to normal - whatever ‘normal’ was. People came back into his life slowly - the porter who greeted him every day coming into college, his students, the housekeeper and the staff who kept up his lodgings, the librarian who found his books, his colleagues in the history department. Eventually the blank edges of his world started to fill in with names where previously there had been none. There were still some things consecrated to the memory of Claire - her favorite tree along the river, certain sections of the library, the place where he used to meet with her uncle to discuss ancient religions. But there were other things - new things strictly his own. He went for walks on Sunday afternoons along the Cherwell. He met some of his fellow professors in the Bird and Baby and discussed old poems over a pint or two. He took his books to the park and did his marking with a vacuum flask of tea, occasionally shooing away the odd pigeon. There was contentment in small things.

He was just packing up at the end of one of these afternoon marking sessions as thunder rumbled overhead, barely getting his papers into his bag when the heavens opened and a torrential downpour started. There wasn’t anything to be done for his shoes, but his papers were mostly saved by the time he got his umbrella open and quick-marched back to his lodgings, passing a few unlucky students in the streets, dashing past without hats or coats, or the odd duck with a newspapers stretched unhelpfully over their heads, trying to dodge as many drops as possible.

Frank was never so glad of the covered walkway into the college courtyard, taking a moment to shake his umbrella. A car tootled its horn in the street behind him, and he looked back, the sound just distracting enough to make him forget that he was still moving forward - a fact he quickly remembered as he collided with another person.

“Mrs. Temple! So sorry, I seem to have -” He gestured, hopelessly, with his umbrella, which had left a long, wet streak down the side of her skirt. The college’s chief housekeeper brushed at her skirt for a moment before deciding the cause was hopeless.

“No worry,” she assured him. “I wasn’t getting any drier. Just...waiting to see if the rain would stop before I made a dash for it. Left my own at home,” she said, nodding to his umbrella. “More fool me.”

“Would you...like to share mine? It’s the least I can do, since I’ve ruined your outfit.”

“It’s hardly ruined - but you’re very kind,” she said. “Well - shall we?”

They scurried across the courtyard shoulder to shoulder, the effort to keep themselves under the small circumference of Frank’s umbrella making them laugh without thinking about it, arriving at the entryway giggling a little in spite of the rain.

“I don’t suppose I can offer you a cup of tea?” she offered, once they were inside the entryway to the staff lodging. “I think your walk was longer than mine.”

“If you’re offering,” he said with a little shrug, shaking his umbrella off a little and following her down the passage to her rooms, tucked out of the way off the main corridor.

Mrs. Temple was one of the first people he’d met, coming back here - though not in person, at the start. It was she who had cleaned and aired his rooms, and taken responsibility for the unloading of his things from the lorry, superintending them up to his study so he could unpack them. But it hadn’t ended there. Laundry needed doing? Mrs. Temple would see to it. The wastepaper baskets weren’t being emptied often enough? Mrs. Temple should be told. He heard his students laughing often enough about how ‘Mrs T’ had gotten someone out of some scrape or another, producing a lost necktie or a missing cufflink out of thin air.

By the time he finally met the woman, three months on, she had acquired the status of a mythical being, a benevolent domestic goddess who oversaw the staff of maids and kept the whole lodging running smoothly. He’d always pictured an older woman in his head, but when Professor Marsh stopped to have a chat with her about the state of his windows, he’d assumed, affrontedly, that Marsh had waylaid some unfortunate undergraduate, and said so after she went on her way. “Surely you’ve met the housekeeper!” Marsh said with one of his barking laughs. “Mrs. T, do come back! I don’t think you’ve met Professor Randall…”

And so they’d been introduced, and Frank finally put a face (a very young face) with a name. That had been several months ago, and Frank had found, since then, that just as the undergrads knew, Rosamund Temple was a good woman to have in one’s corner. Though young, she knew her business, and wasn’t above (or below) making herself indispensable to the dons. When Frank started having a study group on Tuesday evenings, it was Mrs. Temple who took it upon herself to make sure there was hot tea ready in Frank’s rooms for the whole crew of students, even when he hadn’t thought of it himself.

She’d brought him countless pots of tea, but Frank had never actually sat down and had a cup with her. Though she knew all the dons surprisingly well, their likes and dislikes and birthdays and the names of their wives, she herself was a bit of a mystery.

Her rooms were plainer than his upstairs, the wood paneling and built-in shelves found in the older, more august parts of the building put aside here for a more workaday look, plain plaster enlivened by a few framed prints and a shelf of knicknacks and family photos. A wooden mantel framed out a fireplace that had long since given way to an electric grate, providing a suitably cozy backdrop for the chairs and tea-table that formed the little sitting room. Frank took a moment to examine the photographs on the mantel while his hostess disappeared into her little kitchenette to put water on for tea. An older couple vacationing on a beach that looked like Brighton, another woman who looked like Mrs. Temple but with a collection of children ranging from eight to two, perhaps her sister, a series of snapshots (unframed) from another beach, landscapes and beach pavilions and a little boy of three, naked as a jay and beaming up from what was trying to be a sand castle, and a wedding photo - Mrs. Temple and her husband, a tall, blond man in uniform, squinting at the camera and smiling widely, his arm possessively around his new wife’s trim waist.

“Widowed,” he remembered Marsh commenting once, when Frank made some remark about her wedding ring and why he never heard about Mr. Temple. “War-time marriage, I think - seems to me he was a local fellow. There’s a son, I think - little fair-haired chap. We don’t see much of him.”

Frank felt his heart clench, thinking of his own wedding picture, on the table next to his bed, Claire smiling wildly in front of the registry office, the photographer clicking a moment too soon so that her flowers seemed to fly through the frame. He had both of them, the out-of focus mistake and the more professional, posed one, but there was something reassuring, lively about the mis-taken photo that comforted him. It was easier to think of her alive, looking at that picture, than it was the other.

“Tunisia.”

Frank looked up from the photo and his own thoughts, finding Mrs. Temple in the doorway with a tea-tray. Had it really been that long? He hadn’t even heard the kettle boil. He glanced back at the photo, realizing that she’d answered a question he hadn’t asked. “11th Infantry”

“I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged a little. “It was a ...quick marriage. He volunteered, and then thought we ought to --” She broke off her thought, setting the tray down and beckoning him into a chair. “I often wonder what life would be like for us if he’d ...survived.” She twisted the wedding ring on her finger a little, a nervous gesture that Frank knew for a fact he himself did sometimes. “Milk or sugar?”

“A little milk,” Frank said, taking the cup once she’d poured it. “And that’s your son, isn’t it?” He gestured towards the little boy in the sand.

“Yes, that’s Charlie.” She put down the tea-pot and took her seat across from him. “That was last year - he’s a half-head taller now. They grow up so quickly.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Frank apologized, studying his teacup. “We had planned to, but - “ but she left, he wanted to say, though the words did not seem to mean what he wanted them to. Ran away, absconded, was stolen. Left.

She nodded, understanding. “Wars are funny things,” she said, taking her tea cup and sitting back in her chair. “People will say the world changes and Oxford stays the same, but I see it - there was a before, and now we’re living in the after. I’m sure you see it with your students.”

“I’m not sure if it’s the students or me,” Frank admitted. “Whether I’m just being an old fogey or they’re just naive.”

She nodded, her smile patient and fair, and in the moment he was at home in it, and he was...content.

#i have written a thing #rosamund temple #frank randall #outlander au #mercurygraypresents

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