Jun 6
DAVIDTACHA ARTTTTT
or wait, it's actually...
DavidTachaGold by @iamdespy for this fic!
Marigold is my fellow Anastacha nation nationalist, @pretzeltiger's oc!!
she's having her bi panic moment smhsmh
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Austria
seen from Netherlands
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Japan
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
DAVIDTACHA ARTTTTT
or wait, it's actually...
DavidTachaGold by @iamdespy for this fic!
Marigold is my fellow Anastacha nation nationalist, @pretzeltiger's oc!!
she's having her bi panic moment smhsmh
Act 2, Part 2
Heeeyy no trigger warnings! Shorter chapter today! :)
“I'm sorry about your arm, Annie.”
“Annie? Mmm… You're going to give my mom ideas. I'm okay now, Marigold.”
“I'm glad your arm doesn't hurt so much anymore.”
Marigold Reed was backed against the brick wall just outside of Keppler-Afton Junior High School, twirling her hair between two thin fingers. “I wish I could go to college.”
Anastacha perked up, confused. “Mmm… you can. What's stopping you?”
“My parents.” Her shoulders tensed. “They'd kill me if I even tried. I want to be a doctor, but my mother said-”
“Who cares about her?” Anastacha smirked. “She's holding you back. Girls like us have made it. You can too… or whatever.”
“Anastacha, I'm colorblind. People already don't take me seriously. These glasses?” She takes her glasses off, showing the lenses colored pink with markers– or something similar. “My parents said I'm better off being a housewife for my future husband. They don't know that I'm smart. They refuse to know. These glasses? I found out they'd help me see colors like a normal girl. I colored them with a marker I found.”
Anastacha stayed silent. Her eyes had to adjust to Marigold without her glasses. She was still beautiful.
“Do you want to come over after school? My mom said you're free to…”
There were only a few rules at the Mikaelys house. Use common sense, be nice, and bring your ID and Entry Request. Nothing like the Reed's. They had every single rule under the sun. Marigold hadn't met Francis before. Not fully. She had seen him getting ready for work, heard his voice, eaten dinner next to him… but hadn't had anywhere near a conversation. He was like Anastacha. Weird, because he was only her stepdad, right? A stepdad that had come around just nine months earlier, looked like her, and sounded like her. Weird.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Francis was a very strange man.
He didn't talk a lot. He usually didn't make eye contact. He would often spend his time studying a subject he went to college for 6 years ago, sitting at the kitchen counter after his milkman shifts with weird gadgets Marigold had never seen. Weirdly shaped jars mostly. Sometimes, he'd bring home a milk bottle or two, clinking together in his hands. He'd ramble to Nacha and try her food, which was one of his favorite things. He'd bring home food and toy with it, showing it to Nacha afterwards, having her try it, and following up by explaining chemical compounds she didn't even know existed. He was some kind of genius. Maybe a psycho.
These thoughts came to a halt when they opened the front door and Francis was towering over them.
“Mmm… hello.” Francis mumbled. “Mom is on the phone with Elenois… if you can't tell.” you could. Through the door, you could hear Nacha's laughter as if you were right in front of her. The sound melted Anastacha's heart, but of course she didn't say anything. She was just happy her mom was happy. “You two can come in.”
There was a book open on the table, Francis had been writing in the margins. Marigold walked past, a little afraid now. How much of that had he analyzed?
“Marigold,” Anastacha mumbled. “I need to go grab something. I'll be right back.” Anastacha cracked the tiniest smile and walked along, Francis following. Maybe now she could go look in the book. Nacha was turned around, everyone else gone.
Marigold stepped up onto the stool he was sitting on, still warm from moments before. She wobbled before sitting down, looking down at the textbook. She takes a mental note, “turn it back to page 42 so he doesn't catch me.”
Nacha shifted while Marigold sifted through the text. Her voice filled the room.
“Yeah, they're here right now”....
Paragraphs of pristine cursive notes filled the margins, arrows pointing, and even some corrections made. The book was filled cover to cover with words and letter combinations she didn't understand. Hydrolyzed, Glutelin, H-OCH. She was careful not to smudge the pencil, knowing how particular Francis was. The book was interesting, so she began to read more of his notes. Nacha was laughing, joking with Elenois, making comments here and there. The house felt safe with her around. And then she felt a figure behind her.
“Mmm… Marigold?” Francis was leaning over her shoulder now. Marigold squeaked, jumping at the sound of his voice.
Marigold leaped off of the stool. “S-sorry, sir! I'll get up! I'm up!”
“... You don't have to move.” Francis stared, confused. “If you're interested, we can look at it.”
“Well,” Marigold started. “I want to be a doctor, so I don't know how food science will help me out. I do want to listen, though.”
Francis cracked a smile. Nacha had shot a look over with shock on her face. He had never spoken to her before this. “Mmm… You want to be a doctor? That's wonderful.”
Marigold turned her face downward, embarrassed. “My parents think I shouldn't try to apply to medical school, and that I should be a housewife instead.”
Francis frowned. “Do you see my girlfriend being a housewife?”
Nacha was still on the phone, talking about work.
Marigold’s voice turned into a squeak. “No.”
“Do you see any real reason that she should stay at home?” Francis had his hand next to Marigold, flipping pages in his textbook.
“Again, no.” Marigold smiled. “I think women should have the right to do whatever they want to do.”
Francis patted her shoulder. “Mmm… I don't see why you couldn't try to be a doctor.”
Nacha hangs up the phone, looks to Francis, and walks over to the two of them. “Are you teaching her about science already, dear?”
“I asked.” Marigold smiled.
Nacha kisses Francis on the cheek. “Now look at you, you've got an audience.” Marigold read part of the textbook, onto page 43, eyebrows furrowing at something written. She points to it.
“I don't understand a lot of these names. What is ‘hoch’ and what's the significance of it?” Marigold was genuinely curious, unfamiliar with the term. Francis looks closer.
“Are you saying H.COH or H.CHO?”
“That one.” She points at a combination of letters.
“Ah.” Francis leaned against the countertop. “Formaldehyde. That's an illegal preservative. Formaldehyde is in everything.” He knocks on the counter. “Mmm…Even this right here.”
Marigold's jaw drops slightly, eyes widening. “Does your company use that in your milk?”
Francis frowns. “No. Public health risks. It could make people extremely sick. I don't even mess with it in the apartment. Same with formic acid. Unsafe.”
“Then what do you use?” She was amazed at how much he knew, if not a little worried. Has he ever messed with these gross things? What if he's got some in his pocket? Her parents raised her to think British people were proper, so maybe he's fine.
“Pasturization. Using heat to kill bacteria. Mmm… Much safer, no chemicals.”
Anastacha comes out of her room with a smirk, looking up at her mother. “Mmm… oh, look, he's teaching Mari.”
Nacha smiles and ruffles Anastacha's hair. “Yes, he is. Your little idea worked perfectly.”
Marigold and Francis looked up.
“What idea?” Marigold seemed shocked.
“You two… Mm ... Planned this?” Francis was smiling shakily again.
Nacha laughed. “No, Anastacha did. She said that she knew you two would never talk. She never had anything to find, she wanted Marigold to socialize.”
The four of them began laughing. Francis wrote something in the margin.
“Talk to Marigold about Formaldehyde and Formic Acid.”
Francis patted Marigold's head awkwardly. “Mmm… I'll let you hang out with Anastacha, but I have an idea for later. Come back here.”
Marigold nodded. “Thank you, Anastacha's stepdad.”
Francis snickered a bit. “You can say Francis.”
“Okay. Francis.”
Marigold walks off with Anastacha. Francis and Nacha share a kiss.
“They're so cute, aren't they?” Nacha leans into Francis's chest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Darn, Elle. We goin?” Steven looked up at Elenois, who was just hanging up the phone after what felt like a timeshare presentation brought to you by two overly-excited women. (to Steven, of course. He doesn’t get it)
“Yes, Yes. We can go now. The girls are over, and meet Anastacha's friend!” Elenois had a smile plastered on her face as she walked over to Steven, curls bouncing with each step. “Just up the stairs!”
They walk out of the apartment holding hands, the cold air of the apartment air conditioning harshly colliding with the two of their faces. Walking up the stairs, they began to hear Nacha's voice, which was louder than usual.
“She's excited.” Steven was grinning when they reached the top of the staircase. “Wonder what's going on.”
Elenois wraps her fingers farther around Steven's. “Maybe something Anastacha did. That girl is always doing something.”
They knock on the door, the answer swift. “You're here already!”
Steven laughed. “We're just downstairs.”
Francis nods for the two to come in. They walk in, still holding hands, Steven's air force jacket went beautifully with Elenois's bright yellow dress.
Elenois looked around. “Where are the girls? We will go say hello!”
Nacha pointed to Anastacha's room. Elenois walked over and opened the door without knocking, stupidly. Steven had taken his glasses off.
When the door swung open, Anastacha and Marigold were kissing. Not anything wild. Marigold had her hands around Anastacha's head, fingers tangled in Anastacha's dark brown hair. Anastacha had her hands wrapped around Marigold's thin hips. They stayed there like that for a couple of seconds. When they split, they looked at each other, hearts pounding. Then they realized the door was open. Elenois’s mouth was wide open while Steven was laughing like this was the funniest thing that he had ever seen. Anastacha looked like she was about to puke. Marigold was completely frozen, especially because of her Russian accent. Her parents taught her that Russians were evil. She didn't look evil, though.
“Oh gosh, Auntie, Uncle, don't tell my mom– she'll kill me.” Anastacha was breathing heavily, panicked, grabbing onto Marigold for dear life. “Just don't take her from me.”
Ran by @pretzeltiger
ANAGOLD ASKBLOG!
self explanatory
Yay! Have fun
tag explanations
Anagold / MedicalStudent (Ship) - The general term for the two of them!
FloralResurrection - The ship Hastur Flaura x Quachil Uttaus (aka, their nightmare versions!)
P. S. I do accept head canons of my OCS... / OC Ships... Heh
"Bu vatana nasıl kıydınız?"
Nâzım Hikmet
#Erzincan #İliç #Maden #Anagold #AltınMadeni #AnagoldAltın #AnagoldAltınMadeni
Act 2, Part 3
No trigger warnings that aren't the typical warnings.
Elenois ran in, trying to hug Anastacha as best she could. “Listen, sweetie, I'm not going to tell your mom… because she already knows.” Anastacha was still shaking like a leaf.
Steven was still laughing. “So you're good with gals like your ol’ Uncle Steven?”
Elenois shot him a look. He shut up.
“Anastacha, you're not going to be told on. Francis doesn't care. Nacha doesn't. I don't. Steven doesn't. We're not mad. We don't hate you.” Marigold was frozen, clinging to Anastacha's sleeve. “Who's she?”
Marigold adjusted her glasses, voice shaking. “I'm Marigold.”
Elenois sat next to Anastacha on the bed, keeping distance. “I'm Elenois. I'm not Ana's real aunt, but I act like I am.”
Marigold's eyes drew up her body, and then down. “You're pretty. You should be a model.”
Steven immediately walked in. “She is.” Marigold was intimidated by him immediately. He was six feet tall, built, and looked like he could bench press Nacha like she weighed nothing at all. Here he was, stumbling around the apartment with an unlit cigarette in his coat pocket.
Elenois scoffed. “He is military. Dumb boy, if you can't tell. He is my boyfriend.”
“I'm not that dumb, Ellie,” Steven responded, accent smooth. This was confusing to everyone involved. “We jus’ caught you two kissin’. I'm not gonna embarrass y'all. I mean… I'll kiss her if it makes y'all feel better. I'm not gonna go talking to D.D.D or parents about y'all either. Not my business.” Elenois nodded.
“Mmm… you don't have to. Thanks for not trying to get us killed.” Anastacha was looking down at her feet.
“You go talk to mama, okay? I think I wanna talk to your girlfriend.” Elenois smiled. Steven took this as his cue to leave.
Marigold looked up at Elenois, eyes wide. “Everyone in this family wants to talk to me.”
Elenois stayed the same distance from Marigold, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. “Do they, now?”
Marigold nodded.
“Did Francis have his science talk with you yet?” She started, shifting slightly.
Marigold fidgeted with her fingers. “I asked him, actually. I like science.”
Elenois continued. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“A doctor.” Marigold said, voice shaking. “Francis said I could do it. That he would support me if I went to college. My parents said I'd be in a lot of trouble if I even thought about ruining myself for my future husband by getting higher education. My mom said my brother would be better off as a doctor than me.”
She tilted her head. “Why is that an insult? Besides it being wrong to say in general.”
Marigold scoffed. “My older brother, Damien, is blind. They're saying that a blind man could be a better doctor than a woman.”
“That's quite rude.” Elenois frowned. “Is Francis your teacher? He should be.”
Marigold shakes her head.
“You know, with her parents around, with me and Steven, and her ‘grandparents’ you two are safe around here. Don't tell anyone else.” Elenois scooted a bit closer. “If you need anything, come to my room, 01-04.”
Marigold nodded. “Thank you, Ma'am.”
“Anything for someone Ana loves.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“We have your work uniform all ready for you, Otto!” Franklin called from the bottom of the stairs. “Ordered specifically from your mentor at the restaurant.”
Otto ran down the stairs. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad! He got a uniform. Maybe a little waiter outfit, or a suit like his dad got. He was so very wrong.
“Meet your tutor, Otto! She left you a little note.” Diana started laughing.
Otto pulled a small slip of paper out from the bag. A note in pretty, swirly handwriting with a small smiley face at the end.
“Otto, here's your new uniform. I hope you like it as much as I did!” -Nacha
Otto frowned. “Who's Nacha?”
“Put that uniform on and you'll find out.” Diana replied, gulping down a laugh.
Otto pulls the uniform out. A long sleeved white top, at least two sizes too big, tailored beautifully for a large, curvy woman, with a long, huge blue skirt that made him look like a little girl wearing her mom's clothes.
Otto near-shrieked. “You're gonna make me wear these?!”
Both parents burst into laughter. “Put it on!’ his mother cackled. He did. The sleeves swallowed his hands. The chest was gaping, the waist less so. The skirt was slipping off, and the name was still embroidered in the shirt. “Nacha J. Mikaelys, Chef”
“Is this that waitress’s old uniform?! Why is this so big?!”
Both parents continued to laugh. Franklin clutched his stomach, Diana was bent over so far she nearly fell off the chair.
“She's not a waitress. She's our head chef. And you're dressed like her!” Diana continued to laugh.
When Otto’s older sister came downstairs, holding his baby brother, she started laughing too.
“No way, Otto! You got kitchen duty? And that uniform? You look like a little girl!” She was howling with laughter. His older sister worked as the hostess at Tymann's. Otto thought he was too good for kitchen work.
Otto's face was bright red. “Why do I deserve this?”
Franklin cut in, still laughing “you broke a girl's arm, Otto. You hurt her, bad. And now we're giving you a taste of your own medicine. Normally, it'd be an eye for an eye, but I don't think I want to break my kid's arm to make a point.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steven and Francis had locked themselves in the bedroom. They laid together, side by side, just staring at the ceiling.
“I think I want to marry her.” Francis eventually choked out. “I've been thinking about it for a while.”
“You have, now?” Steven turned to him.
“I have. We've only been together for–”
Steven shushed him. “It's been long enough, don't you think?”
“Okay. That's true. But I have something to tell you. Don't immediately report to headquarters.” His hands were shaking, and he dropped the normal speech habits. He was serious.
“Remember how I was talking about ‘German Pretty Girl’ a couple months ago?”
“The girl you were supposed to marry, but couldn't?” Steven nodded. “Got pregnant?”
“Steven, that's Nacha. Nacha was the girl I impregnated. The guilt is eating me alive. She had to live with Lois and Roman. Her parents kicked her out ”
Steven’s eyes widened. “Really? I'm sorry.”
Francis flipped to face Steven. “Don't feel bad for me, Steven. Feel bad for her! She's been raising a kid all on her own.”
“I do, Francis. I really do. Is she mad at you?” Steven took his sunglasses off.
“No. She doesn't blame me. I just don't want that to affect us getting married, if she even wants to marry me.”
Steven sat up. “Have you seen the way she looks at you? The way she acts around you?”
“What does that matter? She has rights. I'm not going to be a jerk.” Francis seemed more agitated now, fists balling up. “The least I can do is treat her well after I left her alone with Anastacha.”
“She loves you more than she's loved anyone. She tried to date people, but I'd hear her crying some nights to Ellie about how terrible they were. You didn't hear their phone call, did you?” Steven scooted closer to Francis, feigning calmness. “Nacha would not shut her mouth about how much she loved you.”
“Really?” Francis said, letting out a deep breath.
“She did say she wanted to settle down with you.”
Francis stopped panicking. She didn't lie to anyone–especially Elenois.
“I should buy her a ring.” Francis muttered, face turning bright red.
“Do it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Apparently, his apartment phone doesn't make calls out this far, David. That's why our son doesn't call us.” Angelina Mosses flipped through the pages of Francis's typed letter. “He said he's got a girlfriend, but might have some issues asking her father for his blessing. That, and she's got a 13 year old.” she begins to read off part of the letter. “Mum and Dad, I put a photo of my girlfriend and her daughter in the envelope.”
David smiled. “A girlfriend, With a kid? Our Francis wants to marry someone already? I'm glad.”
Angelina whipped around. “No, David. Wanna see the photo of her he sent?”
“I’d like to see Fran’s new bird.” David walked over. A black and white photo of Francis and Nacha, with Anastacha in the middle. “Is that the German girl? And…”
“Nacha. Yes, it's Nacha. They met again and he wants to marry her. Do you not see the issue?” Angelina’s fist balled up.
“It's been almost fourteen years, Angie. We can't act like it was her fault anymore. He deserves to be happy.”
She sighed, fist uncurling, crescents dug into her palm. “I just think–”
“We should have let them be married.” He walked over to his wife, placing his hand on her shoulder. “We should at least give her a chance. Maybe she's a good wife.”
Angelina nodded weakly, looking at the photo again. “Look at their daughter. She looks just like Francis.”
David smiled. “We should try to talk to them.”
“Nacha isn't going to want to talk to me, David. I ruined her life, didn't I? I still think she's… disgusting, but I can't pretend like I didn't hurt her.”
“Look.” David mumbled. “I think we should give him grace. He's our son, and it's not like Frank is out doing anything good. Maybe we could go out. It would be a good distraction for all of this. Tymann's?”
“Baby,” Angelina gripped onto his shirt. “Nacha works there. What if she thinks we're crazy parents?”
“Everything will be fine. Maybe she won't see us.”
“... Let's call the Mikaelys’ apartment. Her Parents.”
“Angelina, that's a terrible idea.” David went to stop her, but it was too late. She dialed, the phone rang, and an American woman picked up.
“Hello?” The woman answered, confused. “Are you calling to make a reservation?”
“No. I'm trying to call–”
“Ma'am, I don't know what you're talking about.” The woman had a strange tone in her voice. “We've been a hotel for ten years.’
“Well wherever you are, there must have been a few houses ten years ago, because this is the residence of my in-laws.” Angelina added.
“... Ma'am, I'm going to look at something. I have some old files for callers like you.” You could hear paper ruffling. “Who are you trying to call?”
“Leopold Mikaelys.” Angelina was calming down now.
“I'm sorry, but the records show that they haven't been here since 1942. Their reason for moving out was going back to… West Germany.”
Angelina hung up on the spot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Steven and Elenois left the apartment a few hours after the little “incident,” Francis started to fiddle with files. He couldn't make a call to Germany, especially off of Nacha's phone. He wouldn't be able to afford it, and off of her phone? She'd be the one charged $4 a minute. Was it worth the price? A ten minute call would be almost as much as the ring he wanted to buy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marigold stayed in Anastacha's room a bit longer, head on her shoulder. Anastacha was honestly horrified about what had happened. Marigold didn't really care. In the room over, you could hear the shower running–Nacha getting ready for a closing shift at Tymann's. Anastacha breathed deeply against Marigold's arm.
“Mmm…” Anastacha mumbled. “I know I'll see you tomorrow, but I don't want you to leave.”
“I don't want to leave either, Ana. But I have to.” Marigold ruffled Anastacha's hair. “My parents might ship me off here this weekend anyways.”
She nuzzled deeper into Marigold’s dress. Marigold shifted to make sure her cast wasn't being pressed on. “Hope so.”
Knock knock. Francis opens the door a crack. “Marigold? Your… Mmm.. parents called. I got to take you home.”
Marigold nodded, getting out of Anastacha's bed. She kissed Anastacha on the forehead. “Are you coming with me?”
Francis sighed. “Nope. She has to go to Tymann's with mom. Internship. They want her working when she turns 14, so she's going to go do training.” Anastacha nodded weakly.
“Mmm… sorry, Mari.” Anastacha hugs Marigold. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Annie.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You really live way out here.” Francis turned a corner in Washington Park, driving near a particularly large neighborhood. “This is where I used to live.”
“Wait, you lived right down the street from my parents?” Marigold peered at the house. No lights on, empty driveway. The sun was setting, leaving a rich golden glow on the house.
“Yeah. They're out. Mmm… I wonder what they're up to. Hey, Marigold?”
Marigold looked up. He didn't meet her eyes, focused on the road. “Yes?”
“Come over again. I'll teach you about science. I don't care what your parents say. Say my girlfriend is teaching you how to be a housewife.”
Marigold nods. “Thank you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nacha had free time at work. The restaurant was slow, all of the chefs on duty were doing their job. Franklin was actually at the restaurant today, Anthony was sick, so the owner went around ensuring quality and supervising everything that was going on, so she had no work for a bit. Then, Franklin walked by and tapped her shoulder.
“Hey, Nacha?” He stayed low. “Hate to do this, but could you go check a tab? It's over $20. You don't have to bug them unless they start acting sneaky. I don't think they'll do anything bad. It's just policy after our opening weekend. I would have Otto do it, but I'm making him mop.”
Nacha nods. “Yes, of course. Which table?”
He shudders. “Emelia’s section.” The name made Nacha shudder. “There's only one table. I don't remember the number off the top of my head, but you'll know.” Nacha nodded and walked away. She tried to stifle her words, swallowing, pretending she was American. It hurt.
As she approached, her throat caught. Francis's parents, sitting there talking. She stayed at a distance, suddenly acting like her notepad was the most interesting thing in the world. To her horror, Angelina looked up at her, and immediately tapped David. He swallowed, looked up, and went white as a sheet.
“Nacha.” Angelina whispered. Nacha thought about running away, about going and telling the owner she couldn't stomach being around that table, telling him what happened. But she didn't. She approached, slowly.
“Long time, no see.” David smiled at her, almost sickeningly sweet.
Nacha still didn't speak, barely able to choke out her professional spiel about policy. “I'm sorry. I had to come over for a tab check.”
“We don't mind, Honey. We're not going to skip out. He has our money.” Angelina looked like she was going to puke. What one of them said could make or break their reputation with her. Angelina sighs, fidgeting with her hands under the table. “How's your kid?”
Nacha's heart drops. “She's good. Starting high-school next year.”
David perks up. “What did you decide to name her?”
Nacha swallows, throat tight and uncomfortable. “Anastacha. Anastacha Francine Mikaelys.” Everything got tense. Angelina's fork could have bent in her hand with how tight she grabbed it. David choked on his water.
“That's a beautiful name.” David added. Nacha began to loosen up. “Reminds me of Francis.”
“That was the point.” Her accent began to slip. “How have you two been?”
“We haven't seen Francis since he was in college. We're not sure what Frank is doing nowadays. He could be anywhere with anyone.” Angelina sighed. “Francis sent us a letter. I'm so sorry.”
Nacha's brows furrowed. “If you want to meet your granddaughter, she'll be walking around at any moment. She's being trained to work here.”
Was this conversation not going well? Was Nacha still so angry she could kick them out and not care one bit? They couldn't tell. Nacha turned around. She had a smile, but she seemed extremely upset. I mean, why wouldn't she be? Of course, at that moment, Diana walked out having Anastacha trail behind like a duckling. She was in a pale pink uniform, standard for the waitresses. Nacha sighed, turning back to them. Her shoulders were tense. She was clearly mad.
“That's her.” she mumbled, flatly.
Angelina smiled. “Oh, she's a stunning young woman.”
Nacha didn't say anything.
David smiled awkwardly, pushing food around. “We don't wanna keep you from your job too long. Just… don't be a stranger, yeah?”
Nacha seemed taken aback. She had so many words to say. “You ruined my life.” “I'm stuck here because my parents went back to Berlin without me.” “The only reason you recognize me is because your youngest son bought me groceries when this job didn't pay enough to feed me and my baby girl.” “You called me a prozzie kraut when I was fourteen years old, and now I have to forgive you?” but she kept them all inside. She took a shaky breath, exhaled, and forced a smile.
“Thank you for stopping in here.” And then she walked away. Face burning, tears pricked at her eyes. As soon as she walked back into the kitchen, things were busier. She tried to distract herself, walking around and checking orders, but ultimately couldn't take it. She started crying silently, hiding it using her hair. That didn't last long. Diana walked back, letting Anastacha try out serving on her own for a table that agreed.
“Nacha, Anastacha is just the best worker–Oh, why are you crying? What happened?” Diana rushed over, looking Nacha up and down.
Taking a shaky inhale, Nacha leaned against the nearby wall. “The table I had to check on. Was… my boyfriend's parents.”
Diana raised an eyebrow.
“It's a long story.” Nacha said, wiping her tears the best she could.
“I have a while.” Diana responded.
Nacha began to speak steadily. “I’m a teen mom. I got pregnant at thirteen, gave birth at fourteen. I'm only twenty-seven.” She could see Diana's heart drop. “My parents wanted me to get married, my boyfriend, ironically, was the same one I had in high school. His parents said some awful things to me. They forced him to move–i was broke half of the time at this job. After your husband got control over everything and not his brother, I actually had a liveable wage.”
Diana started stuttering while she talked. “You're twenty seven? She's… almost fourteen?”
“Yep. The milkman here? My boyfriend.” Nacha sighs. “Anastacha is his kid. Biologically.”
“He's a nice man. I'm so sorry. That must have been traumatizing for a little girl.”
“My parents kicked me out when I didn't get married. They moved back to my home country without me, and I went and lived with this public accountant and his wife. They saved my life.” Nacha seemed less scared now.
Diana cocked her head. “Where were you born?”
“Berlin, West Germany. English isn't my first language. I learned English from my friends and working here. I'm more comfortable speaking German, but I don't want to get hurt.”
“Oh, sweetheart… please tell me my brother in law had some sympathy for you and gave you at least a livable wage.”
“Nope. A while ago, when Anthony had the majority of control, he barely paid me. I was probably 90 pounds, because I wasn't really eating. In the past.. almost year, since Francis and you two being back, I've gained all of my high school weight back and then some. I'd rather be like this, instead of weak and tiny like I was.”
Diana looked sick. “Seriously? And you've had a teenage daughter? Do you have any files with this information?”
“I think so. Why?”
“Because I'm getting this Cad fired.” Diana walked off swiftly, yelling for her husband. “Franklin, get over here before Anthony gets it!”
She stood there, confused, before going back to her job like it was any other day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Francis was at home. After dropping Marigold off, he had went to the Washington Park bookstore and hunted for more textbooks. He found a couple science related ones for cheap, and one for German language learning. It was a spur of the moment decision, but he figured one thing. If he was going to ask to marry a German woman, he'd better do it right. Going up to the clerk, a friend from highschool, was pretty difficult.
“Hey, Francis! Haven't seen you in ages.” The man said, smiling ear to ear.
“Mmm… Hello.” He handed the books to the clerk.
The clerk wasn't shocked, until he reached the German textbook. “German, huh? What's this about?” He poked at the cover. “I haven't seen you in ten years, and now you're out here with all this new stuff. Are you a doctor, or something?”
Francis pointed at the German textbook. “I'm going to ask my girlfriend to marry me in her first language. I'm also going to ask for her father’s blessing in the only language he speaks.” He shifted his hand over to the science textbooks. “These are for my daughter's best friend. She wants to be a doctor, and I'll be blowed if I'm not the one helping her out.”
The clerk scoffed. “You're with a German girl? You have a daughter, and you're unmarried? You're helping someone who wants to be a female doctor? Are you some kind of sissy now? You were tough in high school.”
Francis looked down, not letting the comment shake him. “Mmm…I'm still tough. You know what happened to me my sophomore year.”
The clerk shook his head. “Well who cares? You should at least try to discourage that little girl. She should be a housewife.”
“Ring me up, would you?”
Francis pays, grabs the books, and walks out without another word. He mumbled something under his breath, quiet enough for nobody else to hear.
At home, the first thing Francis did was start studying that German textbook like nothing else mattered. It wasn't too hard to pick up, but he was impressed that he could understand it so well. His next task was to hide it from Nacha.
The very first AnaGold art was created by @iamdespy today!
Once my phone decides to work, it will be posted under #anagold
Should I make an Anagold askblog?
ya
nooo
Yyyyeah pretty much them (Ana's the man. Idk.)
What’s Marigolds favourite qualities about Ana? :3
First ask, woohoo!
She loves all of her! But more specifically:
-She loves the way ana talks. All the Mmm Whatever makes her happy, just because it's unique.
-I headcanon Anastacha with freckles or a similar look to Nacha. So I imagine she'd love her girlfriend's freckles and curly hair
-personality wise, Anastacha's the black cat compared to the orange one. Marigold would absolutely adore this. She makes many comments about her being quiet. Though, after a rough day, she likes the silence.
-back to my headcanon (and canon as of TTMMFAFOT) Marigold would absolutely adore her German accent.
I hope this is what you meant by qualities! Also, not a complete list
