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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 4 years

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Between the Ink and Papers Ch. 4

Summary: Steve and Peggy have been divorced for a year and Sarah is still starting to find her groove in it. However, it becomes a lot easier when she and Typhanie realize it might be time for her dad to start dating again.

Pairings: tattooartist!dad!Steve x Reader, Typhanie x Sarah, Peggy x Logan, Bucky x Natasha

Word Count: 1806 words

Warnings: cussing? that’s about it!

Between the Ink and Papers Masterlist - Masterlist to Other Works

Previous Chapter

A simple creak and the door opened, casting a dim light from the hall. Their home was simple, tucked away above the shop. Steve slept on a pullout couch so that Sarah could have her own room. At her request, there were plants everywhere. A way to remind him that this was their home. Not just his.

Not that he minded one bit.

Steve quietly closed the door behind him. A small smile tugged at his lips when he saw her backpack on the cluttered counter and the mail on the floor. Poor kid had probably been so tired that she hadn’t even noticed. He scooped the letters up, tucking them back into place before grabbing her backpack. His eyes shifted briefly to the microwave, the blinking red 1:00 a.m. far too obnoxious.

He was definitely getting too old for these late nights.

Scratching the back of his head, he silently made his way to the back, cringing only when a floorboard squeaked underneath him. He paused. Surely that didn’t wake her. Steve gently opened the door.

Inside, sprawled out on her bed and half hanging off, was his daughter. That crazy teenager. She was half hanging off, her pillow already on the floor. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that she’d gotten in a fight with the bed and that the thing won.

He gently tucked the backpack next to her dresser and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. What a dork. It made him think back to that awkward woman that he tattooed earlier.

The gun was between his fingers, poised and ready to go. Brow arched and lips quirked, he found himself absolutely confused. “Uh…” He shrugged. “Okay?” Steve raised the gun, waving it around. “Can I get started now?”

Y/N’s head tilted, curiosity getting the better of her. “Really? You don’t care?”

Steve snorted as she extended her arm. The familiar buzz filled the air as he got to work on the piece. “Should I? She seems to be doing better, so safe to say you’re doing your job. I’m just doing mine.”

She hadn’t said anything else after that. Apparently the buzzing had been enough for them. Not that he minded. He actually preferred when his customers weren’t the chatty kind.

Shaking his head, Steve pulled the door shut and blinked away his own sleep. He hated how tired he was. It seemed his time with Sarah passed by too quickly for him to actually enjoy it and being exhausted never helped. Still…he collapsed on the couch, too tired to unfold the bed lying underneath. Just a few minutes…

Just a few and he’d get back up.

The smell of bacon and coffee woke him up. He jolted, blood rushing and pounding in his head as his boot scraped against the floor. Blinking, he ran a hand through his messy hair before pressing his palms to his eyes.

“Hey, old man.” The squeak against the floorboard made him look up, relieved to find she was holding a mug filled with black coffee. “I don’t want to deal with you being a grouch. Drink up.”

He groaned, taking the mug before she returned to their breakfast. “Is that how you’re supposed to talk to your dad?” Downing half the mug’s contents in one gulp, Steve immediately felt better. He rose to his feet, knowing his shirt was probably a mess and realizing he still had his boots on.

Definitely – he was definitely getting too old for the shop.

“How long’ve you been up,” he asked, noticing that she was almost done with his breakfast. “You could’ve kicked me or something.”

“Why?” She pushed the plate onto the bar, grabbing a fork and knife as he took a bite of bacon. “You work hard.” Sarah grabbed her poptarts, taking a bite as Steve froze mid-bite, shoulders slumped. “What?”

He snatched the pastry out of her hand, trading it for a piece of toast that was on his plate. “Do you think just ‘cause you’re here, you can get away with that?”

She smiled a little too innocently. “It’s just a poptart.”

“Yeah, and all the other crap you eat.”

“Hey!”

Streve smirked, gesturing to the food between them. “Eat up. We need to get you to school -- ” He glanced at his watch. “Fuck!” Looking up, he frowned when he saw that innocent look on his kid’s face.

She knew. Of course she did.

“Get your backpack. Now.” Shoving food in his mouth, he ignored the slight stomping that could only come from a teenager. “Hurry!” He snatched up a shirt, smelling it. For now, it would have to do. Changing, he shouted, “Sarah, come on!”

“I’m here.”

He spun around, tugging the shirt down. Ruffling her hair, he pushed her towards the door. “Stop huffing. You should’ve said something.”

“Maybe I just wanted to spend a day with my old man.”

Steve sighed, closing the door behind him. As much as he would love to spend the day with Sarah, he couldn’t. Not right now. “Later. We can go play pool or something. Sound good?”

Sarah hesitated, biting her lip. She knew she still needed to talk to her dad about everything she and Miss Y/L/N had gone over. And yet…the idea of just spending some fun time with him sounded too good to be true.

Yeah, talking could wait.

The bell’s shrill scream, though familiar, still managed to make Y/N jump out of her skin. She sighed softly, taking a much needed sip of her coffee. It was wonderful, warming her insides. Flipping open her planner, she grimaced when she saw who she had a meeting with.

How had she forgotten that was today of all days?

“Um…Miss Y/L/N?”

She looked up, massaging her temple only to stop when she realized who was standing in her doorway. “Hey.” Y/N stood, trying to hide her surprise. “Typhanie, right?”

She nodded, lip caught between her teeth and fingers fidgeting with the obnoxious hall pass in her hands. “I just – I wanted to ask you about something.”

Y/N smiled, gesturing to the chair. “Of course. Have a seat.”

Typhanie did, tucking a leg underneath as she looked around. “I’ve never actually been in here before. It’s…” She noticed the positive signs, the wall decorations, and all the bright colors. “Peppy.”

Chuckling, Y/N said, “I’ll tell my friends that’s how you described their decorating skills. So, what’s up?”

“I know you normally do like,” Typhanie sighed. “I don’t know, counseling sort of stuff? But I was wondering if you could also help with the whole future type thing. Y’know, with…” She bit her lip, doubts starting to creep in the back of her head. Why was she even here? This was a waste of time and –

“Hey.” Y/N watched Typhanie blink. Those negative thoughts were burying her, scaring her. “You mean colleges, right? The ‘after highschool’ path?”

Typhanie nodded, earning a smile. “It’s just me and my dad. We don’t exactly have a lot money wise and I just…I want to be prepared. Get the scholarships, do what I need, and…I…” She laughed, the sound coming across more as a nervous breath than anything else. “I really want to go to college, but I want to make sure it’s the right path.”

“What do you want to study?”

“Music,” she admitted with a determined nod. “And I know not everyone goes to school for it, so I just want to figure out where I’m going.”

Y/N nodded, scribbling down some notes. “I love how you’re approaching this, Typhanie. It’s mature and level-headed. Give me today to put some information together, okay? You can stop by tomorrow and we can go over it. How does that sound?”

She breathed, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. “That sounds amazing. Thank you!”

“No problem. But…” She pointed to the hallpass. “You might want to go back to class before your teacher realizes it wasn’t the bathroom that you wandered off to.”

Typhanie grinned, jumping up. “Right! Yeah, of course! Um…thanks again.” She hurried out of the room, earning a far too amused laugh from Y/N.

Shaking her head, Y/N went back to the notes she’d taken. Scribbled: Typhanie Wilson. Music. College?? Needs to know her options.

She knew how overwhelming the future was. Especially at that age. At least Typhanie was seeking help. It was better than what she’d done at her age.

Knock knock

Y/N looked up. Peggy and Logan. Checking her phone, sure enough. It was time for their meeting. “Hey! Right on time.”

Peggy smiled. Weak, nervous. Like most mothers she met with. “Thank you for keeping these meetings, Miss Y/L/N.”

“It really means a lot to us,” Logan admitted. That shyness of being a new, eager stepdad was still there. Even after a year. He wanted to be good to Sarah and Y/N respected that.

“I know. Just repeating for everyone’s sake, but I cannot tell you anything Sarah has confided to me during our sessions. I’m just guiding you towards what could help your family transition best.”

“We know.” There was a hint of defeat in Peggy’s voice, a silent plea for her to bend the rules.

But Y/N wouldn’t. She cared about her students too much.

“Alright, have a seat then.”

Standing up, Y/N moved to the door. She started to close the door, pausing when she saw a familiar face.

And he saw her.

Steve raised a brow. “Uh…Y/N, right?”

She smirked. “Here, it’s Miss Y/L/N.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Fair enough.” However, his eyes had wandered, catching sight of who was inside her office. “Uh…” Steve grimaced.

Peggy caught his eye, blushing. “Steve.”

“Peggy.” He glanced past her, nodding. “Logan.”

“Hey.”

Y/N looked from mother to father and back again. She had been sure that when she started these meetings with Peggy, she had been promised that Steve was informed. He had the option to join and chose not to.

Now, it was clear that hadn’t been the case.

Peggy gave her a look, another silent plea for her to keep quiet. To not say anything and simply continue their meeting.

Y/N shook her head. Oh…hell on. She looked back at Steve, leaning against the doorframe. “We’re about to have a meeting to discuss how Sarah’s been handling the past year. Do you want to join?”

Surprise. Concern. An eagerness that only came from a loving parent. Those were the emotions etching Steve’s features. Practically shining in those pretty blue eyes of his. Relieved, he admitted, “I would love that.”

Y/N nodded, opening the door wider. “Come on in.”

He crossed the threshold and she closed the door. Lingering only for a moment, she turned to the three parents. Here goes nothing. “Coffee, anyone?”

A/N: Thank you for all the support with this fic!! I really appreciate it!!

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findingkaraskye · 7 years

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VI: The Beginning

I thought I was scared writing the previous post, but this one might be even more scary for me. I believe that I do not owe anyone an explanation for why I am the way I am. But I do think that explaining how the past has made me what I am today will help whoever does read this understand what can cause such a downfall in life at a young age.

I can’t recall if I’ve explained this so far, but I’m already writing this new post so I don’t want to scroll back down to figure it out. As a baby, my biological father left my mother and I. She raised me as a single mom, until she met my Dad, who I call Dad. (You know that saying, anyone can be a father, but it takes a real father to be a Dad). My mom has told me that even at a really young age, I was so protective over her (which I still am), and hated to be away from her. They went on to have four more kids after me. We lived a steady life. But even I could tell it was fragile.

During my sophomore year of high school, Dad went to prison, and he was going to be there for four years. My parents were also having serious problems, with my mother always stressed out and unhappy, and Dad not really being around much. He was caught in that messed up Annandale Korean crowd. So around the same time as him going away, they also had their divorce. And everything became so hard.

I think I was about 15 years old. It was just me, my mom, my two younger sisters, ages 11 and 10, and my brothers, just about 5 and 2 years old. And being the oldest, I had to take on so much responsibility so suddenly to help my mother. Think of a sophomore, going to school every day, still involved in about three sports year-round, coming home late from practice to help with the chores and then finally start my homework. It was so hard for me, that even though I knew how much my mother was struggling and hurting, I would still rebel and be difficult. I was only a kid who had to grow up at such a young age. I never, ever want to blame my mother for this. It wasn’t her fault. It was my Dad’s. But I was such an angry kid for all that had happened. My conscious was full with words like why me, why did I end up with this kind of life, why am I even here? I knew the divorce was coming. But it still hurt me so much. You grow up knowing your biological father left you, to have your parents, the man you call “Dad”, ripped from you. It hurt me. And him going to jail leaving me with so much to step up to was too difficult for me. Somehow, I managed. I don’t know how. I would probably get home from practice between 9 and 10 pm, do chores and clean up around the house, finally start my homework around midnight or 1 am, sleep around three or four, and then wake up at six to get ready and catch the bus to school.

And I believe all these events with me at 15, suddenly having to grow up and be like a second parent to my siblings, and help out all while trying to also have my life as a kid, resulted in the decline of my mental health. Like I said in my very first introduction post, things were really bad for me, depression-wise. I would cry quietly to myself every night while doing the dishes, or with homework in ungodly hours, struggle not to break down at school and keep a strong face. But by myself, things were very bad. Only two of my best friends, and some of my family know this, but I did cut my wrists when things were bad. Mostly on my left, because I needed my steady right hand. This is the reason why I always have bracelets on my left now. I attempted suicide I think my senior year of high school. It was another of my normal late/too early nights, and I took a handful of ibuprofen pills. I felt the drowsiness, and let myself drift off on the couch in my home basement, as the rest of the family slept for the night upstairs. About an hour later, i woke up and vomited everything up. I guess it just wasn’t time for me to go yet. But I was so angry that it didn’t work. I was so unhappy with the way my life was.

To this day, my mom still apologizes to me for that time in our lives. And I get so upset because it is not her fault. We didn’t deserve this. She had a hard life growing up. She made sure me and my siblings grew up with everything a kid should have and with love, but it wasn’t a normal kind of growing up. And it wasn’t anything for me. I hated seeing my mom the way she was during that time. It hurt me so much seeing her so broken and helpless, still trying to be strong for all of us, taking a part-time job as a single mother. I hated it so much. I was so angry at my dad.

I have my stepdad now. And I love him. From the start, when he and my mom got together, he always knew how to make us feel like a family again, having fun, laughing, going on trips, making dinner, taking us to movies. I had been scared for the longest time, because I knew I loved him already as a dad, to call him Dad. But now it comes out so easily and I can tell how much he loves and cherishes the title. It was extremely hard for me to accept him in the beginning, but he never stopped trying to love us as a family, and I loved him back so quickly, I can’t even remember what it was. But I have so many favorite moments with him. One summer when I was in college, I spent a long week in and out of the hospital, and a full weekend in the hospital because I had developed a brain tumor. Dad was out of jail, and he knew where I was. But he never came. But the person who stayed all night and held my hand was my new Dad. When I found out I had the tumor, I really did want to die. I wanted to find some way to kill myself again. I was scared, but pretended to be okay with everything. The shortest moment my mom or new Dad left my bedside in that hospital, I cried and just cursed at my own life. But he would come back and be with me. And when I finally got out, he immediately took me to my favorite place for a milkshake. This difficult weekend still my favorite thing to think back to. Another day, I was having a really dark day when I lived with them. He told me to get into his pick up truck, and he rolled the windows down and just drove through the woods on a one-lane road and let me cry. I really don’t know where I’d be without him now.

Coming back to what everything is now, I feel like my dad and I have fallen out. I try to blame his going back to the old friends that screwed him over in the first place. Or his girlfriend who I overheard one time when she thought I wasn’t around, them referring to me as just my mom’s daughter, because I wasn’t my dad’s legitimate child. And her just being mean in general. But he has fallen into the category of “father”, instead of “dad”. The holidays are the worst. I hate splitting time with my mom and my father’s side now. My anxiety goes to a high when he and his girlfriend demand I come to a “family” gathering that ends up so tense and cold. He knows none of us like his girlfriend, but it doesn’t matter to him. And I know I said I never wanted to blame anyone for anything, but our family broke because of him.

I’m very raw and honest with you all. I know I’m just writing to a public blog, but this is comforting in a way to let everything I’ve always kept pent up, out to the open. Not many people know about the hard life I’ve had growing up. And now it’s out in the open, where anyone could find it. And it is scary that someone could find this and judge me, but I’m also strangely okay with that. Now, you all know about the beginning of my depression and how bad it used to be. But to be honest, I’m so glad my first attempt didn’t work and I puked my guts out. I’m so glad I didn’t find a way to die in the hospital. I’m so happy to be here today, and have this life that I work so hard for, because I have the courage now to take care of myself and actually be the strong person I grew up to be through everything. I’m getting there.

#mental healing #mental health #depression #anxiety

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