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its-blakecarter · 1 year

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The Basics

name: Blake Noelle Carter nickname: n/a birthday: October 13th, 1990 age: 32 years old hometown: Fairford, WA current residence: suburbs occupation: manager at mountainside inn gender: cis-female pronouns: she/her orientation: Biromantic Bisexual

Deeper Dive

alignment: lawful neutral mbti: zodiac: librapositive traits: dutiful, liberal, faithful negative traits: jealous, insecure, hesitant neutral traits: dreamy, nonconfrontational, idealistic likes: dislikes:

Appearance

faceclaim: Zazie Beetz haircolor: Black eyecolor: Brown height: 5'6" weight: 140 lbs identifying marks: much to the chagrin of her parents, a thigh tattoo, and she also has a small scar on the right side of her bottom lip from an old lip ring he had while in college. clothing style: she is a mix between business-casual and street style. Either way, she sticks to more solid colors with less patterns, and she's never been a fan of heels. This doesn't mean she doesn't wear them if an occasion calls for it, but flat tennis shoes are prefer. Light button downs, skinny-jeans (millenials, amirite?), and tanks or tees. She does have a few graphic tees she will wear under an oversized denim jacket in the cooler months.

Backstory

tw: infertility mention, PCOS, break-up/broken engagement

Blake's conception had been a surprise following her older brother's birth. Maybe not so much as the twins following. With enough of a gap between them it's not shock, but rather that they had been a more startling discovery in the form of the biggest bluest plus sign, but Blake wasn't expected all the same.

Most of the Carter parents' energy had already gone into the eldest son, but that didn't mean Blake got overlooked. Similar expectations fell on her tiny shoulders, and they had been there for as long as she could remember. Longer than she thinks she's come to learn the love for her youngest siblings. Work hard, strive for greatness, and settle for nothing less.

Early on Blake recognized that doing as she pleased for her own wants did nothing to earn the attention and praise of her parents. She was never a kid to enjoy the spotlight, but when her brother's academic achievements overshadowed her own, she oftentimes found herself wishing that sometimes it was her that her parents were showing off during family holiday get togethers.

So, Blake tried harder.

Honor roll was an easy achievement, and so was earning a captain position on the girl's lacrosse them with an MVP trophy handed over at end of season. She made scholarships with her academics and athletic achievements combined, but in all that time she felt her teen years slipping away.

You see, all her time had been spent trying to earn the same approval her brother got (and by God, she did), but somewhere along the way she realized almost too late the cost to it. A childhood lost to books, an adolescence that raced by with few friends and fewer experiences beyond her accomplishments. Blake wasn't unhappy, per se, but she did feel lost.

Lost on which path she wanted to take, and figuring out who she truly was. Her pursuit of a B.A. was another thing that wasn't for her. She did complete school with a degree in tourism and hospitality management without a goal in mind.

Post graduation, Blake left for Seattle in search of a job. There she'd met a man, and in the worst cliche sort of way, she fell for him. They were happy together, engaged even, until news came out that she had PCOS. This also affected her fertility, and the chance of not being able to build a family was a deal breaker in the end.

The fertility issue was not something her ex-fiancé decided was a reason to end things, it was Blake’s decision. It took enough time of mulling it over to decide that what was best was to end things so that he could find someone to fulfill that dream with. For him, a family with kids was everything, and for her? She hadn’t really thought about it, but the chance of it being impossible beyond adoption wasn’t all that heartbreaking. To her it was an easy decision to call things off for his sake more than her own.

Post-break up, Blake returned to Fairford, head held high, the reason for the broken engagement a secret she holds close to her chest to his day. Not for any shame or regrets, but because it is a sensitive subject still. She doesn’t want sympathy for something she could not predict that is beyond her control. She used the money she saved up to purchase a two-bedroom ranch in the suburbs.

She took up a job in hotel management at the Mountainside Inn, settling into something that pays the bills for the time being. She doesn’t dislike her job. If anything, Blake feels freer than ever having made this decision on her own, and she’s taking time learning how to pursue what she enjoys without the overbearing eyes of her parents over her shoulder.

With her return, she feels renewed in a sense. This is a chance for her to pave her own way. Though she is terrified of taking the first step down that path, the idea is there. For the time being, she manages the hotel and comes home to her Aussie pup, Koda.

Headcanons

1. Her Australian Shepherd Koda is her best friend. She brought him home shortly after moving to the suburbs, and now they're inseparable.

2. Recently, Blake has started dabbling in watercolor painting. A pastime of hers, she never got to train or put time into it as her academics took precedence. Watercolor paintings don't bring home the paychecks, after all.

3. The topic of kids isn’t a difficult one, but Blake is on the fence about what she wants in that category. Sometimes she finds she enjoys her life now as she is relearning how to make it her own, and other times she wishes she could raise a tiny human. One day it might be in the cards, but despite her uncertainty she does know that this moment is not the time for it.

4. Her job in Seattle was that of a Travel Consultant. It was a high stress, fast-paced job, and though it brought in decent money she ultimately decided that her happiness was more important. Hotel management gives her more room to breathe and focus on her hobbies.

5. Blake enjoys running themed 5ks - bubble runs, color runs, mud runs, etc. Nothing more than that, though. She isn’t competitive by any means. If you so much as breathe the words 'half marathon' around her, she might just keel over.

TBA

Pinterest: [ here ] Playlist: [ here ] Connections page: [ here ]

#fairford.intro #––– ❛ about 【 blake. 】

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wicked-elfie · 2 years

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Okay so Ariel being black and how that relates to me, Legend of Korra, and my dog…

lots of cursing, please be mindful of that <3

Sorry this is gonna be long as shit, but I’m insanely worked about this, and I know the people I’m writing about will most definitely ignore it or just be mad, but I don’t really care. This is a vent post.

also here’s my dog for reference ofc. wonderful powder sugar donut foot lookin ass <3 be mean to him and i’ll annihilate you

Okay this was just on my mind earlier. As most everyone has heard by now, the new trailer for the live action The Little Mermaid dropped, and some people were angry because Ariel “doesn’t look the same” *cough* she’s Halle Bailey *cough* these people are just racist *cough*

Look, so, I really dislike the live action remakes that Disney seems to be busting their asses making, but I don’t care enough to actually be mad about it. Disney is a Really Shit Company. We Already Know That. HOWEVER!!!! That’s not the fucking point and I want people to stop using that as a distraction from the issue! And whatever, like, these kids get to enjoy these movies!!! That’s cool!

And these kids: THESE KIDS DO NOT CARE THAT ARIEL IS BLACK. THESE KIDS ARE EXCITED THAT ARIEL IS BLACK. It absolutely DOES NOT take away from the experience of the film WHATSOEVER!

Who’s mad? Well… White adults ofc!

So, now that I’ve got that out of my system (FOR THE TIME BEING) I’m gonna explain my experience.

I had this thought when I came across the drawing someone make of Korra from LoK and Naga. I know some people have their reservations about the show, but please spare me, because as I’m about to explain, this show means the absolute world to me.

So I watched LoK when it had already finished. Probably my freshman year of HS, so I was like 14 (2015- a year after it ended). I had already watched ATLA growing up. I decided to watch Korra when I heard about Korrasami. (this is important.)

Guys, when I say that I related to Korra, I mean in every way possible. And in a way that kinda sucks, because everyone seemed to HATE HER. However, after finishing the show, it’s like I grew with her as well. I somehow managed to not binge it so it took some time, and relate to her arc even more as I Continue to grow.

Korra is hotheaded, impulsive, egotistical but also extremely self conscious, emotional, empathetic, ambitious, funny, caring, and a total fucking idiot at the start of season 1. Makes sense- she’s literally a teenager. I Cannot Express This Enough.

Now, by the end of the show: She’s maternal, she’s thoughtful, self conscious but working on it, learning how to communicate her emotions, still ambitious but learns to ask for help, still funny, still caring, brave, and mature.

Now, of course I’m not the avatar, but we all have trauma, amirite? This show was so cathartic for me to watch. From start to finish, it was an outlet for me and continues to be- a place to just let go of all of those big feelings little me couldn’t deal with as a kid. This show taught me so much about myself.

Physically, I have a lot in common with her, too. Both close with father figures in our lives, both young women with brown skin, and the perfect cherry on top: we both have a big fluffy white dog.

This sounds really stupid, but people… imagine me;

Angry, erratic, emotional, exhausted, brown skinned, queer but didn’t know it, close with my dad (specifically a dad with lighter skin, too), wanting to have control and take care of the things I loved: and I’m sitting there on my bedroom floor, on my laptop, hugging my big fluffy dog and bawling my eyes out as Korra gets dragged to the ground by herself in that one scene in the swamp, and eventually getting to watch her walking into the portal with Asami.

I have never, ever felt more seen in my life, and I don’t know that I ever will feel that again.

Representation is so insanely important. Obviously, mine is a little on the nose, but just skin tone, queer relationships and identities, complicated families… People with different experiences need to see themselves, and people who can’t relate at all need to see it too. I remember my boyfriend and I talked about representation after watching ATLA, and he said, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually watched a show where not a single person was white.” followed up with “I never had to look for myself in media. I was always there.” My boyfriend is a straight white male.

I’ve been on so many rants to this guy about how much these things matter, and he already knows but he listens to me anyways. Korra was life-changing for me. Life-saving.

So excuse me if I’m emotional as I slam my fist on the goddamn table and scream at these angry mf white ADULTS,

This takes ABSOLUTELY NOTHING FROM YOU!

AREIL CAN BE BLACK! IT DOESNT EFFECT THE STORY!

Shit, the Ariel in our high school play was a POC!

Don’t you dare make me list Every Single God Damn character that was written as a POC and adapted to be WHITE ON FILM!

Would it KILL YOU to just Let The Little Black Girls HAVE THIS!

Being in a place of privilege doesn’t mean you don’t experience things like trauma, or inconvenience, or struggle. It means you don’t experience those things BECAUSE OF YOUR RACE. YOUR SEXUALITY. YOUR CREED. YOUR GENDER. YOUR BORN-INTO WEALTH.

Giving people the recognition they need doesn’t take Anything from you.

So please. Please just let them have this. If it really makes you mad, you need to seriously evaluate “why?” because “she’s not the same” is a shit excuse when her appearance has nothing to do with the story.

Fuck

#the little mermaid #halle bailey #lok #legend of korra #korra #ariel #asami #tenzin #vent #rant #racism #homophobia #idk i’m just mad #people probably aren’t even gonna read this i just #ugh

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ao3feed-crimeboys · 2 years

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Eternal Winter

by astronokia

“What in the everloving fuck do you want with me?!” He growled, his ocean eyes making contact with the cat-like deep blue of the vampire opposite him.

The vampire looked like he thought Tommy was nothing more than an amusing pet that had pissed on the floor or gotten into the trash while he was away. Like after a soft scolding, the Crow would pull him close and tell him everything was alright.

Tommy wouldn’t admit the thought was kinda alluring after the fuckfest the past few days had been.

“Honestly, I thought you were smarter than that little lamb. What do I want from you? I want you to make a decision. Die here on your throne of the dead you could have prevented, or join me. Be turned. Live your life free from the restraints of being mortal,” A sick grin painted Crow’s face. A smile that chilled Tommy down to the bone and made him feel like there was never really an option that came with his ultimatum. It was rigged from the start.

or a brainrot au based off the impact winter book on audible. think vampires + the apocalypse and a lot of dark sbi

or tommy plays into the hero bit too much and gets bit in the end because of it (literally)

Words: 3543, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Dream SMP, Minecraft (Video Game)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: Gen

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Philza & TommyInnit, Tubbo & Tommyinnit, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo

Additional Tags: Major Character Injury, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Dark Sleepy Bois Inc, Tommy gets yoinked by his vampire father, Lots of unpacked trauma, Fluff and Angst, mostly angst, Eventual Fluff, Kidnapping, Blood and Gore, Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, Sleepy Bois Inc as Found Family, more like forced family amirite boys?, Platonic Relationships, Parent Sam | Awesamdude, Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vampire Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Vampire Wilbur Soot, Vampire Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Vampire Alexis | Quackity, Vampire Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Vampire Schlatt, No beta reader, This Is Fine, Dark SBI, Violence, Morally Ambiguous Character, Graphic Description of Corpses, Non-Consensual Touching, Possessive Sleepy Bois Inc, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatized TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Possessive Behavior, platonic possessive behavior, Child Death

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/41133015

#IFTTT #ao3feed #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #crimeboys #crime boys #crimebois #crime bois #mcyt #This is

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 years

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chapter list 🧣 next chapter

summary: believing your father's concerns as a black family living in the secluded mountains of Wall Maria to be simple paranoia, a you naively set out on your own to discover the world and what it truly holds. yet after encountering another family secluded in the moutains, the Ackermans, you realize that maybe his concerns weren't so unfounded in the terrifying yet beautiful reality you live in. befriending their daughter, a fellow survivor in what it means to be the last of their kind, you finds your path leading to the horrors of the fall of maria and the 103rd cadet corps.

tags: fem!reader, black!reader, canon typical violence and maturity, replies and reblogs appreciated, the reader is older than mikasa by one year, reader is also a hunter by family trade so if you don’t like that i wouldn’t read

a/n: and here we are to commence the very first chapter of this fic. Uba means ‘father’ in Hausa, Uwa means ‘mother’. that is the extent of my Hausa knowledge. this chapter is also brought you by the childhood naivety of believing that just because something isn’t that far by map, doesn’t mean it isn’t actually that far. dumbass kids amirite???

|| Chapter 01 ||

Year 844, Age 10

"I'll be gone a couple of days."

"I know, pop." You called over your shoulder, curled into a tight ball. You hoped your voice sounded like that of someone who was truly tired.

"I really don't feel comfortable leaving you that long on your own." Uba continued doubtfully.

You felt your stomach lurch. Slowly, you sat up before looking at him, blinking as groggily as you could. "Uba, you said we're low on food. You really need to go hunting."

Uba nodded taking heavy steps to your bed. "The hunting is always best when we're together." He said, reaching over to squeeze your left ankle gently. You made sure your wince and recoil didn't seem too extreme to be fake. It wasn't entirely, your ankle was still a bit sore from your staged fall a few days prior. "You promise me that you remember to stay inside, there's enough food for you to take care of yourself."

"Yes, Uba." You nodded.

"Don't answer the door for anyone if they knock." Uba continued in a more grave tone.

"I know, Uba." You repeated. It was like Uba didn't realize you knew his many rules inside and out already.

"Hide immediately, don't let anyone see you. And make sure-"

"To always keep the curtains closed, Uba, I know. I know!" How could you forget when it was like Uba made sure to repeat these nonsensical rules to you everyday like you would somehow forget.

Uba's expression was sharp and unrelenting like the earth itself, "I know it all seems like a lot, but it's all to protect us. To protect you. Your mother-" Would feel like you're driving her crazy too. But you decided to keep your disagreeable remark to yourself, lest Uba abandoned his hunting trip altogether to re-educate you about their ancestors. About how when the Titans first arrived, your family had been among the few to find refuge within the three Walls protecting them from the giant monsters roaming the world. "would agree too. Humans like us," Uba gestured to your matching dark brown skin. "you don't find many of. We might even be the last ones. There are many who would want to steal those like us away."

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes, you had heard the same story all your life. The same one every year, and every year nothing happened. You hadn't so much had seen another person besides yourself and Uba in these mountains lest you went to town to sell furs.

"These rules might seem strict, but it keeps the two of us safe." Uba said yet again. "I'll be going now, remember everything I said. I'll be gone only a couple of days, you have the rifle if anything goes wrong." But nothing should. With that, Uba stood up and left your room.

It was only when you were sure an hour had past and that your father was most certainly gone did you finally toss the blankets off of you. You had only two days days, maybe three at most, to make good on your plan to put as much distance between your home as possible. Uba would be heading east down the mountains and you knew his routine by heart after so many hunting trips. Uba wouldn't turn you back home until they had as many as a few rabbits and a few ducks to spare. If you were especially lucky, there’d even been a deer or two.

The ducks would be plucked raw, feathers washed and used for pillows. The deer would be skinned and most of the meet would be hung to dry. Then the furs would be sold for the extra income. Oko willing, the prey would be bountiful this season before the rain would arrive and there would be no chance you to run off.

You felt slightly guilty, rummaging through the kitchen for the loaves of bread. But there was still plenty of yeast for Uba to make even more bread for himself and he'd have plenty of meat coming back from his trip. Your ankle hurt with the dull throb of a sprain you’d given yourself by tripping over a hill. You knew this hunting trip would be too important for Uba to skip, it was the only opportunity you had to finally leave this place and go to the city.

Uba can't keep me hidden here forever. You willed the guilt to leave you. You would be going west to Leipmold, the closest town from where they were that you saw on the map of your father's study. You had traced it over many of time on your own parchment. You had always been indifferent to hunting, but now you appreciated the knowledge. You could hide your own tracks and hunt for your own food, then you would sell any furs you could skin herself in the markets. Only once you were satisfied would you go back home, maybe Uba wouldn't be as mad that you ran away if you brought back enough coin to make him forget that you had broken all of his rules.

You stuffed your blanket into your knapsack. You could sell rabbit fur, rabbits were always abundant in the mountains! You rubbed the back of your head, wondering if there was anything you might be forgetting. Your scalp was bare, Uba shaving it only the day before. He never allowed your hair to grow long. You couldn't even wear dresses. He said the pale-skinned humans would sell you off to do the unthinkable if they knew you were a girl.

You were sure that if Uwa were still alive that she would have let you wear dresses the color of the sky at dawn and let your hair grow wild and coiled. You felt a prickle of anger surge through her. You’d grow your hair out in the city and buy a dress. No more pants. Then when Uba realized he had nothing to worry about, he would let you do as she pleased.

You slung your rifle over your shoulder and packed the few bullets Uba had spared in your sack. In its place, you left a note.

Uba, I've gone to Eppelbog. I know you think that I'm just a kid, but I'm 10 years old. I'm going to sell our furs there and come back with money. Just wait here for me, okay? Eppelbog was south from their home and nowhere near Leipmold. When Uba decided to track you down in his fury, he would head there first and that would give you plenty of time to get to Leipmold before he realized that he was duped. If he realized. If was always good.

Heaving a deep breath, you opened the door. May Uwa be watching over you.

Uba is gonna be gone for at least 2 days, 3 if I'm lucky. Your pace was quick and you relished the sound of the grass crunching beneath your feet. You hoped Uba didn't suddenly realized he had forgotten something and turned back around and ended your journey before it truly had a chance to start. There's another mountain path I can take between here and Leipmold and I can get to it by tomorrow morning. Traveling through the mountain chains would be your best chance at throwing off Uba when he realized you were gone.

You had two loaves and a half of bread and around five bullets. A wineskin full of the freshwater you could spare without taking too much from Uba. This should be able to last until I get to Leipmold. Any rabbits you caught could be cooked completely, saving half the meat for the next day to stretch it out. You were sure that it would be at least a week before you got to Leipmold, the distance not seeming too far on Uba's map when you looked at it.

It would only take a few days tops, you were sure.

But it didn't take long for your optimism to vanish nearly a week later.

Your hands were paper dry and your feet ached.

The rabbits had been scarce and you only had a few chunks of bread left.

Your stomach growled but Akunna refused to stop and eat. You needed to save what you could until you could spot another goose. You’d seen one yesterday, but by the time your rifle was ready, it had flown beyond the opening of the trees and the hunger pangs kept you up most of the night. You would catch something today, you thought determinedly as you looked at your tracing of Uba's map. You’d been walking the path for a few days now, it couldn't be that much longer before you got to the base of the mountain. Maybe there you could find some berries or mushrooms to eat, you hadn't seen much that were edible on your trail so far.

Maybe you should have grabbed some of the meat they still had, after all. Uba was going to come back with plenty of food for himself, he wouldn't have noticed the leftover venison missing.

You sighed and put your traced map back in your bag and stood up, wincing at the aching sensation. Soon you’d would be at the base of the mountain, she reminded yourself.

There’ll be less undergrowth hiding food and there'll be berries and mushrooms that aren't poisonous. It would definitely be easier finding rabbit burrows without all the shrubs. The path east that you and Uba took for hunting always seemed clear and kept in comparison to this wild path. Maybe Uba had been clearing it himself to make it easier to hunt. You at least wished there was a snake rattling somewhere in the bushes, it tasted alright. Uba caught a few a year and the taste was interesting and flavorful whenever he made it.

Your stomach rumbled again. No more thinking about food. You groaned.

It was then that you smelled apples and you stopped in your tracks.

You licked your cracked lips as the smell continued to waft through the air. Those were a rare treat back home. Uba had planted a few seeds on your land but their trees seldom had a good harvest making you treasure them whenever you could manage to get a good few. You followed your nose to where the scent was coming from. Your aching feet were suddenly easier to ignore.

It didn't take long for a small cottage to be seen through the trees. The back door was wide open and from where you stood and saw a window that was open with a pie sitting in the sill. No one else could be seen from where you stood.

Who on earth leaves a perfectly good pie unattended?

Your belly growled something fierce and you grabbed your stomach. You should just leave. Hungry as you were, your mother would curse you if you stole from someone.

But no one is even here. You argued with yourself. If the pie was that important, it’d be inside with the door closed. You licked your lips again but they somehow felt even drier now. You were like a fox stuck in a trap, starving, with its own paw starting to look delicious after days of not eating and the desperation to escape setting in. When your stomach rumbled again, your resolve solidified. Uwa might be upset you stole a pie, but she’d understand if you did it to avoid starving to death.

With that, you dropped your bag and rifle behind a bush and stumbled out of the bushes, your pant leg catching on a few brambles and tearing at the fabric.

You would worry about that when you were finally in Leipmold. You’d eat as much as you could before running away, that would at least hold you off the rest of the day if you ate half. And if you really could eat half and could fold the tin over, you could carry it back to your bag. Two days worth of food.

This meal could be two days worth of food!

You rushed up the few stairs leading into the house, weary of the creaking of your boots on the floorboard as you searched for the kitchen. You were glad that the cottage wasn't too big, only two rooms were in the hall before it led to the kitchen and dining room area. There was another door, you assumed was the front door.

Even better was if the family was in front doing something else and would be distracted long enough for you to leave without much of a trace. Your guilt raised with each step, but so did the growls from your stomach. I’m really sorry!

You stood on a conveniently placed stool and grabbed the pie with ease, reaching for a spoon in the sink that looked like it had been rinsed off recently and dug right in.

You froze mid-bite of your third spoonful when you heard a soft gasp and you turned around so quickly you thought your neck cracked. Behind you was a girl your age, her hair long and with eyes nearly the color to match. The girl’s mouth was agape widely as she took in the sight of you. You in her kitchen, mouth full of pie.

You blinked.

You and the girl only continued to stare at each other.

You promptly ignored how your hands burned when you picked up the pie tin, you could feel bad about stealing this family's pie later.

Your actions caused the girl to break out of her stupor. "W-wait!" She cried, storming after you. "Stop, you pie thief!"

"Mikasa?" The voice of a woman approached closer and you felt her stomach and heart lurch. "What's going on?! Are you alright?!"

"Some boy is stealing our pie, Mom!"

When the steps leading to the back door came into view, you prepared yourself to jump over them. You’d just have to hide under a shrub until they gave up their search outright before you could leave. That was when a third person arrived, a tall man with blond hair, holding his arms out wide to prevent your exit as you skid to a halt in surprise before stumbling forward clumsily and crashing on the floorboard. You winced as your chin hit the wooden floor and your teeth clashed, the pie tin tumbling forward and landing into a crumbly and sticky mess.

"Oh no!" The young girl sounded disappointed and emotional. "Mom, your pie..."

"Mikasa, come back here." Her mother called after her. "Please be careful."

You groaned and clasped at your jaw. You struggled to sit back up, your vision was cloudy was from the hot tears welling in your eyes. "Ow ow..." You garbled but it didn't feel like anything was broken. However, that didn't mean it didn't hurt any less. You sniffed harshly, trying to blink away the watering of your eyes. You didn't want to cry in front of these people.

Your parents really had cursed you for stealing the pie.

Mikasa peered through the crack of the door.

Her mother and father had told her to stay in the kitchen after they had caught the boy trying to steal their pie, but she was still worried. She felt part disappointed and part angry looking at him as he clutched a brown hand to a swollen chin. That had been a pie she had helped her mother make and her first real experience baking and it was ruined. It wasn't often that her parents felt comfortable enough letting Mikasa fiddle in the kitchen.

To see it stolen so callously and then spilled onto the floor put a damper on her spirits.

Now she wondered what her parents would do next.

Brown suddenly caught gray and Mikasa flinched, ducking in order to avoid the boy catching her spying.

It wasn't really spying if it was in her own house, was it?

He was the stranger here.

She didn't feel brave enough to look up again, fearing she'd be spotted again instantly. Mikasa placed a small hand over her chest, hoping it would calm her heartbeat.

"I'm sorry about your pie." The boy's voice was soft and barely audible from where Mikasa stood. "I shouldn't have tried to steal it. I don't have any apples to give back. Please don't be mad."

"Where is your family?" Mother didn't sound angry, so much as she sounded worried. Like when she thought Mikasa had gone too far into the forest to play. She was always worrying about something, Mikasa's mother. "What's a child as young as yourself doing alone in these mountains?" Her voice was gentle.

"Uba went to Eppelbog." The boy answered after a few seconds. "He wanted me to go to the Leipmold to sell furs."

"'Uba'?" Mother repeated, sounding as confused as Mikasa was. She'd never heard that word before. "Is that your father?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Father sounded surprised, "your father decided to send you on your own to Leipmold? That's at least two weeks away from here! How old are you?"

"10." That was a year older than Mikasa's 9 and he had looked so different from her and Father and Mother. He was slightly taller than her, maybe from the boots he was wearing, and his eyes were a bright amber in contrast to his skin that was the color of Ms. Penny's feathers, their oldest hen who died the previous winter. Mikasa felt her courage return enough to attempt her peeking once again. She'd never seen anyone with skin that dark before, maybe he needed a bath.

"10?" Mother brought a hand to her mouth. "Who sends their 10 year old to sell furs that far away?"

Father glanced at Mother with a reproachful look, "that isn't too young an age for some families to have their boys work, Shiori."

"13 is one thing." Mother argued, crossing her arms. "10 is another, Mikasa's only 9! He needs to be home with his mother, Abelard."

"Don't have one." The boy shook his head. "Uwa's gone, been gone since I was three. It's just me and Uba."

Mikasa shuddered as her eyes widened in horror. His mother was gone? She looked to her own parents, unable to imagine a reality in which either of them weren't with her everyday. No longer seeing her mother's embroidery or welcoming her father home when he was gone after a few hours of hunting, bringing back something that would make her heart jump as she tried suppressing the vague feeling of fear witnessing it.

"Is this your first time going to Leipmold on your own?" Father asked the boy who nodded. "Your father was irresponsible to send you on your way without enough food to last you an entire trip. You're going on foot the entire way?"

"I was supposed to catch rabbits on the way, I thought I could eat them on the way." The boy explained before wincing briefly. He rubbed his chin again tenderly. "There weren't a lot of rabbits though. I thought Leipmold was closer on the map Uba had in his study."

At that, Mother and Father both exchanged a look that Mikasa didn't understand. From what it looked like, neither did the boy whose expression was one of worry as he looked between the two of them. "Please don't tell Uba about the pie, he'll be mad." He begged.

"We'll keep the pie to ourselves if you answer some more of our questions." Father reassured him with a smile. "When is your uba going to return home?"

"A few weeks." The boy's answer was slightly muffled. "He has a lot to sell."

"And you're absolutely sure he'll come no sooner than that?"

The boy nodded.

"What's your name?"

The boy hesitated at that, looking elsewhere. Mikasa was prepared to duck again if he was going to look in her direction again. "It's alright, dear." Mother's voice was soothing as she spoke. "You can trust us."

"... _." The boy said after another moment passed. "_ Okoro."

"_." Mikasa's mother repeated, copying the syllables slowly. "That's a lovely name, did your uwa pick it?"

"Uba did."

"Well at least your father has a good sense to pick a decent name. The same can’t be said for his decisions about you working now..." Mother said, though it looked like she was saying it mostly to herself. "How about this, instead of going to Leipmold, you work here for us for a few weeks while your uba is in Eppelbog and we pay you for it. Then you can leave for home from here and we won't even have to mention the pie."

You blinked in surprise at that, hand falling away from his chin for once. "Really?"

Mother and Father nodded in unison. "It would be a lot safer for you to do this instead, I think your father would understand."

"The mountains are no place for a child to be traveling on their own." Mother continued. "We'll have no problems letting you stay here in exchange for help with the chores around here. And you'll have to get along with our daughter, of course." Mikasa bit her lip and had to stop herself just barely from shuffling her feet. "She can be a bit shy, so you'll have to be patient with her."

"I- um-"

Mother smiled, "you can call us Abelgard and Shiori. Please make yourself home."

Father looked at the door and Mikasa took a few steps back, but it was too late. "We know you're there already, Mikasa." He said with a knowing look on his face. Mikasa groaned quietly at the failure of her hiding place as she slowly opened the door, the creaking sounding ten times louder than normal. "There you are. Say 'hello' to _, he will be stay with us for a little while to make up for the pie, okay?"

Mikasa hid behind her mother to avoid looking you in the eye. "Okay." She grumbled quietly, hoping that would suffice.

"_ will stay in your room while he's here, okay, and you can sleep with Mom and Dad, alright?"

"Mmhmm."

"Um." You piped up awkwardly.

"Yes?" Father turned his attention back to their guest who would now be staying in Mikasa's room with her favorite dolls and the perfect view of the flower patch she had planted that was finally starting to sprout.

"I'm not a boy." You coughed as light glinted on your shining head from the window. "Uba just shaves it off all the time."

Mikasa looked from behind Mother to stare at the girl curiously in her dirty shirt and pants and shaved head. "Ow!" She hissed when she was pinched.

"It's rude to stare, Mikasa." Mother warned but her voice wasn't harsh. "Remember? We're supposed to be polite when someone is in our house."

I know that already! Mikasa looked down at the floor embarrassed to be scolded in front of someone so publicly. "Sorry." She murmured instead.

"We should get you some fresh clothes so you can have those washed." Mother looked back at you as if there were no interruptions. "Do you like wearing dresses, dear?"

"Um..." You just shrugged with no real answer.

"We can set out some clothes for you to pick between after you have a bath. Dear, you should get some water and heat it up over the fire for her in the mean time." Mother's attitude had shifted completely and Mikasa felt her embarrassment fade away as she watched in awe of how her mother seemed to command the room. Father had already given her a playful salute, leaving to do exactly as she asked. Mikasa could only hope that one day she would be just like her. Someone everyone could respect. "Mikasa, you should show our new guest to your room and maybe you can even give her a tour afterwards. Do you think you can do that?"

Mikasa nodded, not wanting to disappoint her.

"_, where are your belongings?" Mother asked.

You pointed out of the window. "I left them under a bush."

"Alright, then you should get those before anything else." With that, Mother clapped her hands together to signal she was done for now. "Go on now." She placed a hand on your back and gave you a few pats on the back to encourage the you to stand. "It shouldn't take but twenty or so minutes for your bath to be ready and the warm water should help with any soreness. Then you can relax for the day before you can help with chores tomorrow."

You stood gingerly on your feet. Your face was full of disbelief, but what ever you were thinking, you never said anything. You only left the room to get your things.

"Why would her dad cut her hair off, mom?" Mikasa asked when the girl was out of an earshot.

Mother only sighed, placing a warm hand atop her head gently. "I don't know, dear. And you shouldn't ask unless she tells you it's alright, she might be very sensitive about it. Her father might have his reasons for it. So we need to be kind until we're able to get her home safely, alright? Can you do that for us?"

Mikasa didn't understand completely, but she nodded anyway. "I can."

Mother smiled brightly, "that's my girl."

~;’;~

You fidgeted uncomfortably in your dress and at how it felt strange to not feel fabric hugging your legs closely. The dress, one of Mikasa's, was pretty. A simple yellow, but it was nothing like how you’d imagined wearing dresses to be like. You spun around in the full body mirror the Ackermans had.

This dress didn't seem to be meant for someone with no hair, but Mrs. Ackerman had seemed happy enough lending it to you that you didn't dare take it off.

"Um..." You saw another face looking back at you in the mirror's reflection looking at you cautiously. "Mom asked me to give you a tour around our home right now."

Mikasa, Mr. Ackerman had said her name was. "Oh, um, hi." You replied, turning around to face the girl properly. You hadn't expected y ourattempt at theft to turn into this, but it was a lot better than getting in trouble and going to jail over it. And it was even better than immediately being taken to Uba who would be furious with you in more ways than one. Not only did you run away but you interacted with people he had always told you specifically to avoid, then to add to it, you tried to steal from them.

"You're Mikasa, right?"

The black-haired girl nodded, "and you're _."

An awkward silence past between the two of them before you spoke up again. "Thank you for letting me wear your dress, Uba never let me wear them before. It's very pretty."

Mikasa cracked a small smile at that. You were still sure that she was upset about the pie though.

"I'm ready for your tour now." You gestured to the door. The warm bath really did help out.

Mikasa led the way with her flats tapping nicely against the wooden floors, your own footsteps in her boots sounded heavier. But you both still made your way outside while there was still plenty of sun gracing the cottage. The air smelled sweeter now that you weren't stinking among shrubs anymore as she followed Mikasa to a small coop of chickens. "This is Eunice, Bonnie, Claudette, and Dana, our hens." Mikasa's voice was light with a small smile gracing her face as she pointed at the birds. "We don't eat them because they lay eggs for us."

"I like Claudette the most." You said after giving them a lookover, fond of the the black hen's speckled-with-white feathers.

Mikasa shook her head. "Eunice is the prettiest." She gestured at the burgundy hen with gusto.

"Claudette."

"Eunice."

You shook your head resolutely. "Claudette."

Mikasa only puffed out her cheeks before leading away from the coop to a garden area. "Eunice." You thought she had heard under the girl's breath, but Mikasa was made sure to get your focus on the garden. Your belly grumbled when she spotted the blackberry bushes.

You coughed. "Did Mrs. Ackerman plant everything?"

Mikasa shook her head and knelt beside a small patch of dirt separate from the main garden, small sprouts sticking out of them. "These are the flowers I planted." The girl said proudly, the sun beaming down on her. You knelt beside her as best you could without getting dirt on your borrowed outfit. "Mom let me do all by myself and she said they'll finally be flowers in a couple of months!" You knew you wouldn't be there long enough for that but you smiled anyway.

"Can you eat them?"

Mikasa looked aghast at the thought of eating flowers. "Of course not!"

"You can eat some flowers though." You pointed out. Like lavender, you knew Uba liked to use that from the wild plants that grew near their home. He would collect other flowers like chamomile for tea he would brew when it was especially cold.

"These ones are for being pretty." Mikasa looked at her plants proudly again. "Mom said we can make flower crowns with them and press them too and that I'll be able to keep them forever that way." She stood up, dusting what few specks of dirt managed to get on the bottom of her dress. "The rest here are vegetables Mom grows and the berries are still okay to pick too." As if to prove, Mikasa plucked a berry right off the bush and handed it over. "You can try it, if you want."

You took it all too eagerly, relishing the sweet taste on her tongue. "Can I have another?" You asked, but Mikasa was already picking more.

Despite the rocky introductions, you were sure you were going to like working for the Ackermans.

#look she's writing #snk #snk x reader #aot #aot x reader #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #mrs. ackerman #mr. ackerman #black writers of tumblr

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scfrozenover · 2 years

Text

How is it Sunday already? Luckily there’s lots of great fics and a pod today to help distract us all from the weekend ending. Enjoy!

Following along? Don’t forget to copy today’s fics from the master spreadsheet to your own!

Snow Angels Among Us

[David/Patrick - E - 15,132]

Upon hearing David has never made a snow angel, Patrick is determined to get him to make one while on a winter getaway.

To David Rose - The Richest Man in Town

[David/Patrick - T - 10,179]

David Rose had big dreams...but after a series of events, he thinks he's lost his chance to ever make them a reality.

Then again, maybe he already has.

Time to pour your mulled wine (heavy on the cinnamon, light on the cloves)...it's an "It's a Wonderful Life" AU

and we'd swear to remember it (all too well)

[David/Patrick, Stevie & David, Alexis/Ted - E - 9,650]

“Come with me,” he’d said, hands tracing along Patrick’s shoulders. “We can go to New York together. My family has money now — we can do whatever we want, go wherever we want.” He’d moved his hands to cup his face, thumbs gently brushing against his cheeks. “You’re too good for this town.”

Patrick had recoiled at David’s words like they’d been some kind of heavy accusation, rather than a compliment. And that’d been it: the beginning of the end. Though David never would’ve guessed that’s where the conversation had been headed at the time. If David had known, he would’ve slammed on the brakes before they’d careened off the track. He would’ve pulled the lever to change course. He would’ve done anything, if he’d known then what he does now.

When David returns to his hometown for the holidays, he reminisces about his first love and where things went wrong. He doesn't expect to, y'know, hook up with that ex, be mistaken as 'back together' by that ex's mother, and end up faking a relationship for Christmas Eve. That wasn't really the plan, but 'tis the season, amirite?

Same Old (New) Traditions

[David/Patrick - G - 6,505]

It’s Christmas with the Brewers! David goes home with Patrick for the holidays. Maybe it’s the first time, maybe it isn’t. Maybe he hangs out with Patrick’s cousins, cooks with Marcy, has a heart to heart with Clint while building bird houses or something (doesn’t Clint seem like he has a side hustle and is skilled at like making things??), etc etc. Queue all the domestic fluffy goodness with the sweetest in laws!

Patrick gets a cold just in time for the holidays, and David takes care of him. All the fluffy sickfic feels.

There's Only One Cart

[David/Patrick - T - 5,300]

All alone on Christmas Eve, David makes a last minute trip to the store for some much needed wallowing supplies. What happens when he meets a kind stranger with warm brown eyes, also alone for the holiday, and - gasp! - there's only one cart?

Tidings of Galapa-joy

[Alexis/Ted, Alexis & OC - T - 5,004]

Dejected by the prospect of a solo Christmas, Alexis heads to the Galapagos with a friend for their vlogs, reuniting with Ted. Told mostly in script format. (Think The Lizzie Bennet Diaries meets Schitt's Creek.) Includes cameos by way of adverts!

The Polar Bears of Schitt's Creek

[David/Patrick, Alexis/Twyla - T - 4,620]

"What the fuck is a polar bear dip?"

a gift from someone's heart

[Alexis/Twyla, David/Patrick - T - 2,692]

"When, exactly, were you planning to do it? And how?"

"I'm still considering that." Twyla tucks the ring box back behind the flour, double-checking that it's covered up, then turns back to him. "I thought that over dinner might be nice?"

"No," David says, settling into this part of the conversation with relish. He shakes his head. "As your eldest almost-brother of an unspecified age, I have veto power, and I say no. You have dinner all the time. It has to be more special than that."

While David and Patrick are visiting Alexis and Twyla in New York, Twyla confides in David about her proposal plans. David reflects on his own proposal experience and offers a few... tasteful... suggestions.

Cocoa

[David/Patrick - G - 1,938]

Patrick regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. The dawning look of horror on David’s face was a common one - Patrick often had ‘wrong’ opinions about the store, that wasn’t new - but this look…

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” David asked.

When David finds out that Patrick is meh at best on hot chocolate, he makes it his personal mission to create the mix to both finally make Patrick fall in love with it and become a best seller at the store.

[Podfic] Must Have Been Some Magic

[David/Patrick - G - 1 hour, 11 minutes]

Eight-year-old Patrick Brewer doesn't believe in magic, rule-breaking, or best friends. But that all changes the day he builds a snowman.

(A fusion with the children's book and animated film The Snowman.)

Podfic of sunlightsymphony’s fic “Must Have Been Some Magic”

CREATORS: If your works were released today, please don't forget to update your posting date!

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parchmentedpetrichor · 3 years

Text

➳the girl in the lilac dress ♠ ♡

in which y/n meets fred's ex-girlfriend, days after fred confessed his love for her. there's still some confusion on the status of their relationship. angst -> fluff. narrated by you, y/n l/n.

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ±5.4k

tw: angst (not too bad though), mean words, blood, mentions of auror missions, kidnapping, needles, st mungo's

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. hermione, lee and alicia

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

the girl in the lilac dress

i was in a good mood. on the way to work to receive my mission, i was humming a song that had just come out. it was catchy and worth the wait.

out of the corner of my eye, a lilac colour appeared suddenly. strange, i thought. it approached me, in the form of a beautiful woman. she had the lightest grey eyes and the smoothest milky-white skin, and the shiniest locks of dark brown hair. she walked in a flowy lilac gown, her slim model-like body walking in a model-like fashion.

i was pretty sure she wasn't headed towards me, but when her luxurious voice said "good morning" in the calmest tone possible to me, i looked at her confusedly.

"hi!" i replied brightly, smiling.

she smiled sinisterly, "my name is pretoria aphrodite, i'm fred's ex-girlfriend."

he hadn't ever mentioned an ex, but i knew he had dated quite a few people. she made me seem like a glass of water next to a glass of red wine, naive and ugly. i was those two things anyway.

"oh! i'm y/n l/n! nice to meet you, you do seem like a daughter of aphrodite," i said politely.

"darling, all women are daughters of aphrodite. i understand fred's interested in you?"

she observed me and i laughed.

"i don't think that's quite the word. he's my best friend."

"friends with benefits?"

"oh gosh no! i don't really know where we stand, honestly."

"bitter about it?"

i thought for a second, "nah, i couldn't be. love's a hard thing."

"it is, indeed, and you work for the ministry?"

i nodded, "head of the auror office. what about you?"

"i model for witch weekly."

i gasped, "you're the p. aphrodite? i should've known!"

"big fan?" she looked amusedly at me.

"my friends are, so naturally i am."

"you don't seem the type fred usually goes for."

"i wouldn't say he's even going for me," i said cautiously.

"you are much too cutesie for his type."

i glanced up at her. she was smiling kindly.

"pfft, but better cutesie than nothing, amirite?" i asked friendlily, "well it's been nice to talk with you, but i gotta hurry!"

"no worries, i'll come with you, i have some business at the ministry too. have you seen his past exes?"

"uhh, not really?"

"well they're all models for one magazine or another."

"oh, okay. and that's important because...?" i asked her carefully.

"i just thought you should know."

i laughed, "i'm not model material, am i? i don't mind at all."

she looks taken aback. "i would say, with longer hair," she plucked a hair out of my poor mess of locks, "and a shorter upper body, with perhaps lip fillers, you'd look model-like."

her tone was analysing and not at all attacking.

"only three things??" i asked, shocked.

"you are rather... pretty already," she mused, "not model-like, but cute."

we had reached the ministry.

"thanks, see you later!" she waved and disappeared.

all that was left was a buzzing fly which soon flew away.

i immediately dialled in my auror code in the red telephone box and was sent into hermione granger's office.

"'mione! how good to see you!" i hugged her.

"hello y/n!"

in the ministry and the auror department, the head of the auror office was probably more important than the minister for magic. i didn't know why. she had brought me a cup of hot chocolate.

"thanks, 'mione, you didn't need to. what's the mission today?"

"two babies are being held hostage in a coded location by a person who calls themselves the light lord. dark lord, light lord, y'know?" she handed me a coded piece of parchment.

i thoughtfully pondered, "the light lord. who do you need?"

"i was hoping you go on this mission, then you could give me some news on this light lord person."

"that's doable. we'll need to bring in hepole and a ministry official to negotiate passports and such. and a strong auror team."

"right on it. i'll get wally becker and charlotte-ann becker. they're a force to be reckoned with on the borders."

"how much experience?"

"they're twins, been doing this for about fifty years now."

"perfect. and hepole?"

"on the way."

"thanks, minister," i winked at her, getting out my telephone and dialling the disguise unit.

"hello, poplinn speaking."

"pop, we need a few disguises. light lord."

"miss l/n! o-of course!"

"and pop?"

"y-yeah?"

"call me y/n."

i hung up, dialling harry's office.

"harry, call draco and be in my office in ten minutes. i don't care what business he's doing with scorpius, we've got babysitters here. light lord, perhaps a second of voldemort."

"of course."

i picked up the ringing phone that was in the corner of hermione's office.

"y/n, me and scorpy are having a zoo day, we're at the muggle zoo you suggested."

"sorry dray, but it's important."

"there's no one else?"

"there are others, but we need your expertise."

there was a pause, "i won't need to show my dark mark?"

"it's fading anyway. no."

"i'll be paid?"

"in hundreds."

"how old are the children?"

"2 and 4," hermione said.

the silence told me he was sold.

"i'll be there."

i picked up the big microphone and said, "auror unit 156 to the brief room. no need to bring anything. see you there!"

"good luck," hermione grimly said, "be safe, head."

"mhm and cup o' coffee tomorrow? if i survive, that is," i grinned.

"'course."

i smiled, "c'ya!"

she was shaking her head.

"oi, no disappointment, 'mione! i was the one who got the ministry out of paperwork!"

"burning paper doesn't count, y/n."

"it wasn't burning paper, hermione granger, it was arson."

"no, it was the saddest form of arson i've ever seen."

"hey! that's rude."

"just go on your mission already."

i laughed, "on it, minister. kalle?"

kalle looked at me, "yes?"

"tell miss minister to take a break and play a game or something, will you?"

she smiled, "okay."

"give my thanks to your mother too, loved the cookies!"

"alright, good luck, head!"

"thanks, bye!"

i apparated to the brief room, where everyone was strapped into special camouflage clothes.

i handed hepole the parchment and immediately began briefing the unit, harry and draco, on the mission.

"please be safe out there. if you're injured, apparate or travel back here, okay?"

i looked at hepole.

he cleared his throat, "they're in albania. the forest there."

"okay. harry and draco will provide attacking forces," the two nodded.

"i want lopex, quentin blake, quentin grill and hilly to break into any establishment," i say to the team, "and eron, hawks, melv, argonas to hold the offender hostage. johnathan, team healer as always. i'll take the children. hepole, you come and accompany us till the forest, then you have my permission to stay back, and beckers, stay invisible with the cloak, write a report for the minister when you come back, understand? have faith, team! i believe in you. we travel by apparition with the machine in three minutes. call your family, chat, have a snack, drink some water, and relax."

i picked up my telephone and dialled my parents.

"hi mum, dad, i'm going on a mission!"

"alright, be safe sweetie," my mum called.

"yeah, don't die kiddo," my dad added.

"right right, i love you, bye!"

the mission was successful. we rescued the children and sent the kidnapper to trial for azkaban. i escaped with a gash on my forearm, but quickly fixed it up with a spell. it ended late in the evening, so the team healer had gone home. the wound kept opening again, but i wasn't sure if it needed stitches.

putting everything away and making sure the aurors were okay, i headed back to the apartment i shared with fred.

i felt emotionally and physically drained, ready to enjoy a good shower and a good late dinner.

when i fiddled with the key to the door and opened it, my heart absolutely stopped.

pretoria aphrodite was kissing fred passionately. i felt my heart fall ten thousand flights of stairs in disappointment. of course. i was all a rebound who was pathetically in love with him.

when they stopped and saw me, pretoria smirked and fred stood up, astounded.

"uhh, continue? sorry," i apologised awkwardly.

"wait, y/n, it's not what it looks like-" he said.

"i don't mind, be safe," i smiled, too tired and too weak to do anything, closing the door and feeling tears well up in my eyes as i took my bag and myself somewhere. anywhere away from this all. my wound burned. i cursed under my breath as i made my way to st mungo's.

"y/n, you should have come here earlier!" yvonne, my friend, says, as she slowly injects a needle into me, "it's infected! and it needs stitches."

i laughed, "everything needs stitches. this is why i didn't become a healer, yvonne."

she shook her head in dismay.

"lol."

i watched the needle go in.

then she stitched the bloody mess of a wound up, cleaning it gently.

"now i can't stay, y/n," i pouted, "no, don't give me that face, i have other patients."

i nodded, "thanks yvonne."

"no problems. take care. you're too reckless."

"am not!"

she laughed. "that's funny."

after the trip to st mungo's which was pretty short, i wondered what to do. my mind kept floating to the scene i had just witnessed.

i was just the stupid, stupid, girl he used as a rebound. he didn't even use me as a real rebound, just someone who was simply infatuated with him to help him forget his unforgettable ex.

looking at a shop window, i caught a glimpse of myself. i hated being insecure but it happened.

i looked ugly. eyes too small, nose too big, lips not full enough. my thighs touched and i didn't have abs. i had a long gash running down my forearm, surrounded by other cuts. my hair was messy and disgusting. compared to the angel on earth pretoria was, i was nothing. small and plain was nothing when luxurious and beautiful was present.

and it hurt. my heart hurt. my head hurt.

i shook my head gently of my thoughts, chuckling bitterly.

fred weasley was completely and utterly out of my league.

whatevs, i thought. hurting was fine.

deciding to get over him once and for all, i bought some groceries and apparated to the doorstep of lee and alicia's glamorous cottage.

i knocked twice on the door. "hellooo!" i called out.

"baby, can you get that?" lee asked alicia.

alicia opened the door, smiling as she saw me.

"hey ali!"

"hi! come in!"

at first glance i could tell she knew something wrong.

"can i sleep here tonight? and take a shower? and eat some of your food please guys? and maybe steal a shirt i left here for safekeep? and maybe use your telephone? i'm really sorry for troubling you, so i got you guys snacks."

i was the second cousin by marriage of lee. it was good overall, but he was super naughty.

"snacks?"

"your favourites."

"then i guess you can," he said cheekily and i laughed.

"alicia, i don't know how or why you ended up with this child, but i'm glad you did," i told her and she laughed heartily.

"he's cute, isn't he?"

"no," i quickly stepped into the guest bedroom and took a long shower, letting a few tears slip but not enough so that it looked like it. i was subtle.

i bundled up in heavy clothing and wrapped my hair in a towel.

gingerly, i bandaged the wound.

by the snores in the other room, lee was asleep. i crept out quietly, going to cook something.

alicia was sitting down, with my favourite comfort meal prepared. i felt tears of appreciation well up in my eyes.

"thank you, ali, i love you."

"you damn well do."

we both giggled.

"what happened?" she asked me.

"nothing. i just wanted a change."

"from fred? liar. i'll ask again. what happened, y/n?"

"just a long mission, that's all."

"after long missions you usually watch movies with fred."

"couldn't i visit my best friend and my cuz?"

"you visit us on weekends. it's a friday."

"well i wanted to visit you!"

"bullshit."

"is it that hard to believe?"

"what the fuck did fred do to you?"

"nothin'?"

"c'mon y/n, you have to tell me. there's a reason why you didn't go to angie and george's tonight."

"i went here because they're super kissy. you guys have space and act normally. i appreciate that."

"you're awesome at lying."

"i'm not lying!"

"does this happen to involve pretoria aphrodite?"

i nodded, sighing, "she's so nice and pretty." i played with my food.

"i bumped into her. she's pretty, but not nice."

"oh?"

"she called me fiercely ugly. she forgot i model for witch weekly too."

"what did you say back?"

"i told her to fuck off."

i laughed, "she was very nice to me. but next time i see her imma kill her."

"of course she was nice to you, you're a lil angel! anyway, she's an animagus, didya know?"

"whoa how did you know?"

"caught her in a jar. she's a fly. who do you think told hermione to catch rita skeeter in the jar?"

i laughed, "rita skeeter is a beetle! gosh, she's annoying."

"what did fred and pretoria do?"

"nothing."

"please tell me?"

"they-" i swallowed, "they were kissing, and so i came here because i didn't wanna watch anymore."

"hang on, he told you he loved you a few days ago?"

i nodded.

"that doesn't seem right."

i shrugged, "pretoria's better than me. i don't blame him."

"his mother would kill him!"

i shrugged again, "i don't think he was legit when he said that."

"molly weasley, y/n!"

"look, he can explain it to you, i don't even wanna hear it. the first stage of mourning is denial, they say."

"doesn't mean it's good."

"denial is awesome. it's ignorance, but you choose to be stupid. i'm already so stupid!" i groaned, covering my face with my hands, "so so so so so so so stupid, foolish, dumb, and i don't want you to tell me i'm not because i know i am. pathetic."

i gobbled down the rest of the meal, "ths 's delicous," i said, swallowing, "g'night!"

"don't be afraid to let it all out."

"yeah."

i shut the door softly, before brushing my teeth and collapsing exhaustedly on the bed, nodding off quickly.

the next day, i woke at 4am, and put on new clothes, apparating to the phone box and filling out paperwork for the missions yesterday.

i joined hermione quickly, handing her a cappucino and sipping my mocha.

"court sitting this early?" she asked me.

i nodded, "mistake of sirius black, now they do all court sittings within 24 hours of arrest."

"that's smart."

"yeah. it's good. he's obviously guilty right? just a dust of veritaserum to bring it all out?"

"i reckon he'll just confess."

"criminals don't go down easily."

"you guys did a spotting job. the children were unharmed."

"are they here today?"

"they're in st mungo's. being monitored."

"parents?"

"dead."

"oh gosh, those poor children. what's going to happen to them?"

"someone's adopting them, wally becker and his wife."

"that's awesome."

the court hushed as we entered the room. hermione and i shared amused glances and began the sitting.

he was found to be guilty and was chucked in azkaban.

"what an idiot, sending a message like that."

"yup," i chuckled, "what with hepole in our ministry, they never escape."

we laughed.

"how's everything with ron?" i asked her.

"i don't know if he's still into me?"

i almost laugh at her statement, "bro. of course he is."

"i never see him."

"then see him more!"

"how? i'm so busy!"

"busy enough for ron?" we both took sandwiches from the canteen lady with courteous smiles and words.

we sat down at the cafeteria.

"i guess not, but he's busy!"

"busy enough for you?"

"i guess not."

"'xactly."

"but he might not wanna go on a date."

"why? the boy's obsessed with you, 'mione!"

the aurors and ministry workers looked at us in fear as i rose up. i chuckled.

i immediately skipped over to the telephone, putting in the WWW's number.

"y/n! what on earth are you doing?" hermione said in a panicked tone.

"nothing to be worried 'bout."

"hello?" it was george. i thanked the heavens for that.

"yolo george, give the phone to your lil bro please."

"'kay."

hermione was gaping at me. i smirked at her.

"y/n?"

"hey ron, i want you to meet me in rosemary park at 5pm today."

"o-okay."

"could you also bring hermione's favourite snacks and wear an extra jumper?"

"what? why?"

"i'm curious, that's all," i said, "see you there!"

"is that y/n?" i heard fred's voice.

"nup, it isn't," i replied.

and with that, i hung up.

"hey 'mione?"

she was glaring at me, "what."

"meet me at rosemary park at 5pm?" i batted my eyelashes at her, before bursting out in laughter.

she laughed, "i love you."

"pfft, love ya too. you really are too careful. like he would reject you."

"what do you think i should wear?"

"let's go off work early today, at 3," i suggested, "we're both on top of our work anyway."

"okay! you wanna go now?"

"it's 11?"

"yeah!"

"alrighty! kalle!"

kalle turned to us, "yes?"

"hi! me and minister are going out to talk about the mission."

"alright, bye."

we apparate to hogsmeade.

"what theme do you wanna go for?"

"hmm," she thought for a second, "floral!"

"alrighty!" i fumbled for my cell phone and dialled the WWW's again.

"hello?" it was fred this time.

"heyo freddie," i said to him like nothing had ever happened, "tell ron to dress up at 5 pm in something cute but not too out there, preferably in florals or somethin', and he better bring me hermione's favourite flowers."

"wha? if he's going with you then- ohhhh."

"thanks, bye."

"wait!"

"mhm?"

"can we talk?"

"erm- about what exactly?"

"everything."

i sighed, "later, okay? i'm out with hermione and you've got work."

"okay. have a good time, lovely."

"you too."

i was utterly confused. here he was one day kissing pretoria, and now he was calling me lovely?

what the hell was going on?

"let's go, mione!"

we went and bought her a pretty pink dress with white lilies adorning it. it was cute and definitely casual, sort of like a sundress.

"what if he doesn't come?" hermione chewed on her lip.

"hermione jean granger, we both know that ron is absolutely definitely a thousand times head over heels in love with you. he wouldn't ditch you for the world! and look at you! anyone can see he's lucky to have you! you both are star-crossed. when has he ever ever ditched you?"

"with lav brown."

"lavender, she's, she's dead, hermione," i said carefully, "fenrir greyback bit her to death. it was a tragic, heroic, death. she was listed in the extended casualties sent to my office a few months after the battle. i think she's watching down on us from wherever she is up there."

"she's dead?"

"yeah," i replied sadly, "life is so short."

"yeah."

"what i'm tryna say, is that that might've happened, but it won't happen again now that he knows you love him and he loves you. understand?"

"yeah."

"and love him well, for the sake of lavender brown."

"for the sake of lavender brown," she said, smiling.

"yup, now, light lord. his name is actually pont knight."

"pont knight?"

"former assistant of me."

"pont knight?"

"yeah, i know right."

"how did he go again?"

"oh, i fired him," i laughed.

"why?"

"smart guy but terribly lazy and he kept asking for promotions! like please do something if you want money."

"interesting."

"he moved to eastern europe to chase after the trendiness of the islands. i think it was just an excuse. he's changed. he used to be clean-shaven and have the blondest hair."

"do you think he did anything else?"

"we did put him on veritaserum, right?"

"yeah, but it's illegal to put someone on it for more than 10 minutes now in court sittings."

"we could go visit him in azkaban later? i'll take gregir."

"yeah, maybe tomorrow or the day after?"

i nodded, "'course. today is a rest day for the aurors right?"

she nodded, "yeah, half of the agency is at home or working out in the gym."

"good. sometimes this work is so tolling, 'mione."

"yeah, i heard from st mungo's you got hurt?" her eyes were concerned.

i rolled up my sleeve, "that's it."

"that's it? what do you mean, that's terrible! you need to take better care of yourself."

"well sometimes it's hard to. it was worth it."

we continued chatting until it was 4:30.

"oop!" she checked her watch, "i have to go!"

"good luck! tell me how it goes, minister! i'll head back to check if anyone's called for you or me and dust it all up."

"thanks. i owe you."

"nah. i owe my job to you. if minister for magic didn't exist, i wouldn't either. i love you 'mione, be safe!"

"love you too!"

i apparated to the phone box and typed my letters in.

with a whoosh, i immediately spotted two letters and a beeping phone. i answered the phone, solving the problem of the woman on the other end of the line and scribbled a reply to both of the letters.

i finished the paperwork and sent it off, then visited my office. it was piling with letters. i answered all of them, redirecting some of them to different departments, before calling everyone back.

i spotted some of the aurors from yesterday's mission sitting in the cafeteria and talking.

i sat down next to them, "how are you guys doing? any injuries?"

they shook their heads, "we've been spending time in the healer's office and just exercising lightly by the orders of johnny," argonas explained and i nodded.

"take it lightly, and go home if you want to. seeing family always helps the process, hopefully not too many nightmares?"

they laughed, "nightmares all the time, miss," hawk said lightly, "get used to it in this job."

i frowned, "have you tried speaking to doctor yvonne? she might have ways to solve nightmares."

"ahh, miss, sleeping draughts can only do so much," hawk replied cordially.

i laughed, "alright, hawkeye, but just make sure you're not getting traumatised okay? what about you, lopex, quentins?"

they shrugged.

"it's okay? the door was very hard to bust into," lopex said quietly, "we had to try several bombarding charms."

"now, lop, it was easy work!" draco said, sitting down, "hello, head auror, hello unit."

it brought on a cacophony of greetings.

"how are you doing, dray?" harry sat down next to him, "hi everyone!"

we all replied with more greetings and a steady conversation started and flowed for a couple of hours.

i felt my cell phone go off and i excused myself, noting it was 9pm already.

i apparated to the apartment doorstep, knocking on the door just in case anything was happening. i checked the caller id, it was hermione.

fred opened the door, hair messy, still good looking. i smiled at him, patting his shoulder as i ran to the ringing telephone and picked it up.

"y/n!" i could just hear the beam in hermione's voice.

"'mione! how did it go?"

"absolutely wonderful, head auror, ahhh, he's so cute!"

"what happened?" i asked, smiling already.

"well it was really cold when i saw the picnic blanket, which was matching my dress for some weird reason, and ron was there in the cutest button up and he looked so handsoME and he gave me a flower, he's always handsome but i just can't! ahhhh!" she squealed and i clapped my hands in excitement.

"and then i was shivering and he gave me hiS JUMPER and it smelled like him and oh my gosh i think i might just be in love, y/n!"

i giggled, "my cooling charm did work!"

"whaT y/n????"

cackling, i said, "continue, i wanna hear more this is so adorable!!!"

i ignored the dirty glance fred gave me, quietening my voice.

"and then we had food and he said he had cooked it himself and was being such a dear and i told him that i loved him over and over again!!!"

i squealed silently again.

"and, and, gosh my english has gone out of the window!"

"english is nothing compared to the language of love!!" i giggled.

"we watched the sunset whilst cuddling, and i fell asleep and then when i woke up i was in his bed and he was looking at me intently and i just, i'm the luckiest girl alive!"

"you are but you deserve it! that's so sweet! i'm happy for you goshhh, you are the cutest couple. you're both such darlings!"

"and then we watched a muggle movie and he got scared of the spiders and it was so adorable ahhhhHHHH!!!"

"that's the cutesttttt," i gushed.

another dirty look from fred. i gave him a frown back.

"and then he walked me home and it started raining and we kissed in the rain and another check off of my bucketlist and oh my gosh he's so perfect."

"oh gosh that's beautiful," i was smiling uncontrollably.

"anyway," her tone changed into one of mischief, "wanna meet up tomorrow to talk about it?"

"sure thing! when and where? i'll be there!"

"erm, lemme chec- think," i heard the suspicious rustling of papers.

"you're sus. let's just talk about it over the phone. i don't want anything weird."

"how about 10 am in the morning at the field of fireflies?"

"that's a highly romantic place, miss minister. isn't it for couples or something?"

"no? you must be talking about fiona farm."

oh. "yeah, probs, well okay, it better have good coffee. i'm dying of boredom too, does it have a playground??" i asked, hopefully crossing my fingers.

"nope."

"awww, shucks, i don't think i'll go then. you wanna come over though?"

"no please come! there's a surprise!"

i was sold, "lovely. i'll be there at 9:30!"

"no, no, don't do that."

"what the hell, hermione, you're being so suspicious!"

"i'm not, okay? just come on time, you won't regret it."

"if there's any funny business i'm not committing arson ever again."

"oh crap."

i sighed.

"just come anyway!!! good night cheerio!!!"

"what the-"

the line ended.

i frowned, noticing the glare fred gave me yet again.

"is everything okay??" i asked him.

"no," he said rudely.

"well, do you need any help?"

"no."

"how was your day?"

"fine."

i sighed, "okay."

"you called ron cute."

i laughed lightly, "that's it?? and so what's kissing a girl huh, nothing? i called him cute because he treats 'mione like a goddess, because she is a goddess, for goodness sake. and he is cute, in a completely objective way," i added absentmindedly, "all you weasleys are."

he frowned.

"she kissed me!"

"oh i don't mind, i couldn't. my two braincells can't handle it. you kiss whoever you wanna, okay? live, laugh, love, and all that." i smiled.

he was silent.

"and we can talk after i meet up with hermione, okay?"

"okay."

"we don't needa if you don't wanna, of course. g'night."

"have a nice sleep."

the next morning, i got up and went to the field of fireflies or whatever.

it was a beautiful place. it was a full on field. meadows stretched across the near english countryside. the sky was clear and light, and the world around me was stunning.

winds blew from all directions, and i soon found myself accio!ing a jumper.

"hermioneeee???" i called, "you're leaving me hanging."

had hermione stood me up? i chuckled at the very thought, soon rolling in the field of flowers as i laughed.

"hermione you devil you stood me up! you left your poor little work wife hanging!" i shouted dramatically.

i suddenly spotted a little house? by the side of the meadow.

i ran towards it.

"whoa."

it was absolutely magnificent. beige little bricks were stacked on top of each other, grey bricks dotted in. the shillings were dark green, and plants hung out everywhere in the cracks of the house.

large windows which reflected the blue light in the sky spanned across the whole house, and a single wooden door stood ajar.

i just wish i had brought a camera. i sat on the grass, playing with the hem of my jumper sadly. even hermione didn't have time for me. i wondered what a sad person i must seem like.

"contemplating life there?" i heard a far off voice. i swung my head around, seeing fred standing and grinning.

yeah well duh i was, no thanks to you, i thought.

i immediately got up.

"we can talk here, right?" fred asked, as he brought me into the house.

"wow," inside, it was cluttered and messy, with plants sprouting everywhere and bookcases and things everywhere. i loved it.

"you like it?" he asked.

"love it."

"good, because i bought it," he laughed at my flabbergasted expression, "i'm rich, darlin'. let's sit, i cooked lunch."

"was this your plan? to have hermione stand me up?" i asked.

"love, i wouldn't call this a plan. simply just a boy trying to explain himself."

"look i don't need an explanation. i told you, you can love whoever you wanna, i don't mind, i don't care, i support."

"but i'm gonna have to explain because i wanna kiss you."

"then go ahead," i sighed, "if you're lying i will stab you."

"jeesh okay."

i looked at him.

"oh yeah, i forgot the food, here," he said casually, handing me a plate filled with yummy looking delicacies. i was willing to put up with his rubbish story telling for the food, i guess.

"alright, i'm all ears."

"okay. so she talked with you right?"

i nodded.

"did she take a piece of hair from you?”

i nodded again.

"so you came home just right about when the night lights flicker on in london. or so i thought it was you. it was actually, aphrodite, yeah? in polyjuice potion. and she knocked on the door, which i thought was strange. i opened it and she immediately kissed me, as you. and it was weird but it was you and i would give the world to kiss you like that," he said bluntly and i could feel my face heating up, "and then it went like that for a few seconds and she turned into pretoria, and by then the woman had her claws on me. then the door opened and i knew i had made a mistake and then you left and apologised so sweetly. i'm so so sorry, my love, please, i never meant to hurt you, i never meant to do anything. i broke up with her last year. i haven't wanted to be with her since. i want to be with you."

i looked at him. i knew he was genuine.

"okay. i'm sorry too, for not trusting you. i guess i was just really unsure of our relationship. it's still kinda blurry."

"what do you wanna be?"

"could we be official, please?"

he grinned, "of course."

then smiling sheepishly, he added, "can i kiss you now?"

"only if i'm the only girl you kiss from now on," i teased, smiling.

he blushed, placing my hands over his heart. it was beating very very fast.

"feel that, beautiful?"

i nodded.

"only you."

he gave me a cheesy grin and laughed at my blushing face, before tilting my head upwards and going in for a kiss but kissing my cheek.

"that's not fair!"

and that's how his head ended up falling into my lap, as i ran my fingers through his ginger strands.

he had fallen asleep just as the sunset began.

it was breathtaking. hues of orange and red danced across the sky.

"i can think of something a lot more beautiful than that," fred said, smiling.

"oh?"

"yeah. yeah."

"i don't believe you."

"that's because you can't see yourself right now."

145 notes · View notes

paterson-blue · 3 years

Text

Summary: Charlie has nightmares from time to time. So do you.

Word Count: 1,619

Warnings: fem!reader but can be read as gender-neutral, established relationship, reader has abandonment issues (I mean who among us doesn't amirite), general anxiety, brief mentions of smut, brief hint at infidelity (sort of? relationship starts during a separation but before a divorce), nightmares, cigarette smoking, post-canon, Charlie Barber is sad, introspective/internal monologue, Nicole is NOT bashed in this bc I'm not about that — let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Cheers to my lovely beta @paper-n-ashes for hyping this up while getting her feelings hurt (I hurt my own feelings too, it's fine). Also shout out to Taylor Swift for making me cry while writing this lmfao anyway...

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

Charlie has nightmares from time to time.

He startles awake in the middle of the night with a cry stuck in the back of his throat. You shift and stir, used to it by now--knowing what’s happened. But he leaves the bed before you can speak, before you can reach out and touch his arm. He pads out of the room, his hulking form a blur in your sleep-addled gaze.

What you do next depends on the week.

Some nights you stay in bed, curling up on his side of the mattress, soaking up the warmth of his body heat. You know there’s a chance he won’t return from Henry’s room, that you’ll fall asleep alone and wake up to an apologetic kiss and breakfast in bed. He always says he’s sorry, voice hushed and big brown eyes remorseful. You shake your head, brush your fingertips over his cheek, tell him it’s okay. Of course it’s okay.

Henry complains sometimes, in the way that kids do when they’re eager to grow up. Little acts of growing independence, of removing themselves from their parents, oblivious to the sting of it. “Dad, you should stop sleeping in my room at night. I’m too old for that now; I don’t get scared anymore.”

You watch Charlie’s back tense where he’s cutting up celery for Henry’s lunch. He swallows hard, just nods. You wait for Henry to change the subject; he finishes his spoonful of cereal and asks if he can get a goldfish, oblivious to how he’s shaken his father.

He doesn’t mean it, you want to tell the man working quietly in the kitchen. He doesn’t understand that you’re never too old to get scared. He doesn’t understand that his dad has bad dreams, too.

But you don’t say it. You never do, even if you know Charlie can read it in your eyes. It’s not your place, really--you aren’t Henry’s parent. You’re some strange figure in the family unit, accepted but not quite solidified. You don’t dare to dwell on any possible future, not so soon after Charlie and Nicole’s divorce, not with how you and Charlie met. Despite his reassurances, you are fine with knowing you are a desperate rebound.

This isn’t something that can last, and you know it. You aren’t fooling yourself. You’re constantly looking for the signs for when, inevitably, he’ll want to move on—find the person he really wants. You’re what he needs right now, and you’re happy to be that.

It doesn’t stop you from loving him, caring for him, taking care of him. He does the same for you--is devoted to you. You don’t doubt his devotion, only how long it will last. Where does this go? When does this end?

Maybe you are a fool after all.

You know what Charlie dreams. He told you once, on one of the nights Henry was with Nicole--when he had no comfort to cling to but a cigarette outside on the balcony. You’d gotten up and followed him outside, standing timidly in the doorway.

It was chilly for an LA night, a strong wind coming in from the Pacific. You worry for a split second about Charlie, standing in nothing but his boxers and T-shirt; you think of saying something to him, but you know you’ll just get a wry smile in return. His East Coast constitution would never allow him to feel cold in Los Angeles of all places.

He takes a long drag of his cigarette--a nasty habit, even he admits, saved only for desperate times like these--blows the smoke out into the air in a long, slow exhale. You brace yourself against the breeze, and step out onto the balcony to perch on the rarely-used rattan chair placed in the corner. You wait until he’s done smoking, until he reaches over and smushes the butt of the cigarette into the potted plant at his feet. He doesn’t speak--just straightens up and leans against the railing, looking out across the buildings. A gust of air ruffles his hair and he brushes it out of his face when it tickles his nose.

“Charlie,” you say, quiet as can be. You’re surprised when he turns to look at you; a part of you figured the wind would take your voice along with it. He hesitates, then steps towards you, eyes soft. You stand, letting him settle into the chair; the wicker seat creaks when he pulls you into his lap, and the two of you freeze for a split second, waiting to see if the flimsy piece of furniture will hold or not. It does, and after a moment you both relax, Charlie wrapping his strong arms around you. You nestle your face into his neck, rubbing your cold nose against the warmth of his throat. He hums to himself, hands ducking under your shirt to rub his fingertips against your bare skin.

“... He keeps calling out for me but I can never find him. It’s always dark, with all this fog and dark shadows. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye but when I look for him he disappears. I just can’t seem to--to get to him. He needs me, and I’m not there. And--” he swallows hard, fingers digging into your skin, holding onto you tightly, “-sometimes he sounds like he’s crying, like he’s scared, and I’m running but I can’t--”

You lift your head to nuzzle your cheek against his, holding him tight, shushing him quietly. He doesn’t speak, and you try to breathe long and slow and even against his ear; he matches your pace, letting his residual panic slip away as the nightmare fades from his mind.

It’s not real, you could say. Henry is safe and sound, and he’ll facetime you tomorrow to get help on his math homework.

But you don’t say those things. Because there’s nothing wrong with Henry to trigger Charlie’s fear; there’s nothing bad or worrisome about Henry being with Nicole. It’s the fear and guilt leftover from the divorce proceedings causing the nightmares. Charlie knows it and you know it. There’s nothing to do but let time heal what it can.

It will. You know it will, because it always does. You just don’t know when.

When it happens—when Charlie is better—will he still need you?

He turns his head just slightly to capture your lips with his and you accept his kisses, letting him take what he seeks. You think you’d give the very air from your lungs if it’s what he wanted. His mouth is hot and soft and familiar, his large palms steady on your back. It’s the closest thing to heaven you’ve found on earth.

Another breeze cuts across the balcony and you shiver, making Charlie chuckle. He brushes his tongue over your bottom lip, traces over your cheek with the tip of his long nose, murmurs that the two of you should go back inside. He follows his words with another kiss, and then another, and another—before finally you both force yourselves up and back into the bedroom.

You watch Charlie pad to his side of the bed; he sits, reaches for the trusty glass of water on his bedside table. He chugs the last of it before slipping under the duvet, tugging his pillow under his head.

His pillow, his bedside table, his side of the bed. Because the other side was yours.

My wife is divorcing me, he’d said to you, all those months ago at the bar. You’d shrugged—what did you care what baggage your one night stand had? He was an adult, he could make his own choices. He had a pretty face, one that he’d just had between your legs as you perched on the bathroom sink. He’d take you home and fuck you silly and you’d never see him again.

You’ve never been very good at one night stands. They never seemed to end well, always felt awkward, were always something you regretted. Neither you nor Charlie regretted one another. Maybe that was worse in a way.

Where does this go? When does this end? The questions echo in your mind as you crawl back into bed, under the covers. Charlie gravitates towards you, somehow arranging his hulking form to fit against your smaller one. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders as he presses his head into your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

You never think about the future. You don’t let yourself. You were a one night stand, then a desperate rebound, and now—what? What were the two of you doing? Playing house together?

When will he tire of you? When will he wake up and want his old life back?

Charlie isn’t the only one with visions in his head. At night, your subconscious brings your fantasies to the forefront: a life with Charlie and Henry—more concrete than what you have now. Of certainty, of stability. Where nightmares are no more and a wedding ring glints off your finger.

You always wake up in a cold sweat, chest aching, terrified of the things that only happen in your wildest dreams. You look over at the man asleep beside you, and feel like your heart might burst. You don’t have the words to articulate your feelings for him. You don’t have the words to express your fear that he doesn’t feel the same.

Where does this go? When does this end?

Charlie—the real Charlie, the present Charlie—presses his lips to your chest, snuggling closer to you. “I love you,” he says quietly, intensely, like he’s read your mind.

“I love you, too,” you answer, brushing your fingers through his hair.

You mean it.

______________________________________________________________

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#charlie barber x fem!reader #charlie barber x gender neutral reader #charlie barber fic #charlie barber #adcu fic #charlie barber x reader #im in pain lol idk yall #tori writes #feedback always welcome & appreciated!

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tungstenb · 3 years

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OC Profile

I wasn’t tagged, but I saw @pigeontheoneandonly’s post and it looked fun. Tagging anyone who wants to do this---for real! Tag me! Talk to me about your peeps!

I’m going to answer these as of ME3’s end so I don’t spoil too much that hasn’t been revealed in SAtS.

General

Full Name: Petra Maral Shepard

Alias(es): Born: Petra Maral Nazari, though she’s also gone by Petra Nazarian (reclaiming the truncated -ian suffix)

Gender: Female

Age: 32

Birthdate: April 11, 2154

Place of birth: Arcturus Station

Hometown: None, though she often daydreamed in childhood/adolescence that she had family back on Earth who would take her in (having grown attached to the idea that her parents had family they didn’t talk about). Her mother is from the Pacific Northwest, and her father is Persian-Armenian; from this information, Petra took a special interest in researching what living on Earth would be like---the natural wonder to explore, all the imaginary cousins and friends she’d meet. It was a way to cope with the isolation of being a spacer kid. (Funfact: this is the origin of Liara’s hallucinations in SAtS 15; note the mentions of Douglas firs and the Ararat Plain.)

Spoken language(s): English... and whatever else was required. Learning languages was a sort of backburner hobby for her, so she never got around to making much progress---not for lacking of trying. Liara roasts her endlessly for how awful her Arlees is, but to be fair, Arlees is difficult as hell (as are all asari languages).

Sexual orientation: Lesbian

Occupation: Retired after the end of ME3; she’s permanently disabled given limited resources post-war. Being a lifelong patient and surgical guinea pig to Miranda isn’t something she wants, especially if it only results in marginal QoL improvements.

Appearance

Eye color: Gray/hazel

Hair color: Brown

Height: 5′2″ (and proud of it)

Scars: Gash through left eyebrow (from Akuze); large warp burn spanning from left collarbone/shoulder-ish area to waist (from her encounter with Benezia on Noveria); assorted others that I don’t bother drawing because drawing scars consistently is hard.

Favorite

Color: Dark blue

Hair color: ?? On herself? Just natural. On others I don’t think she has a preference.

Song: She has a high tolerance for annoyingly repetitive music and generally loves pop (from any culture) that’s easy to dance and sing along to. Aside from that, her tastes also probably trend fairly bizarre at times, e.g. she unironically loves meme music and parodies, etc.

Food: Anything that’s hot and filling. She appreciates food that’s self-contained, like dumplings and burritos.

Drink: Coffee, coffee, and then more coffee. She had some bad experiences drinking while younger---and suspects her father struggled with alcoholism---so she’s a teetotaler until she finds herself working with Cerberus (and leans into some very unhealthy coping mechanisms).

Have They

Passed university: Yes

Had sex: Yes

Had sex in public: ...technically yes.

Gotten pregnant: No

Kissed a boy: I want to say no, but... see “bad experiences with alcohol” above; this wasn’t consensual.

Kissed a girl: Yes

Gotten tattoos: Yes. I’m not averse to the idea that she has several smaller tats I just haven’t planned yet, but her most treasured one is her wristband/forearm Armali-style bonding bracelet tattoo.

Gotten piercings: No

Been in love: Yes. This is a touchy subject for her, since she tends to be all or nothing with her interpersonal emotions. It’s easier to feel nothing; Liara just caught her off guard.

Stayed up for more than 24 hours: Yes

Are They

A virgin: No

A cuddler: Yes. Peesh is what my bff refers to as a “spouse barnacle”; i.e., her love languages are “physical touch” and “quality time.” Liara doesn’t mind... usually.

A kisser: Bahahaha, I’d say making out is one of her favorite pastimes.

Scared easily: Nah

Jealous easily: Probably not

Dominant: If we’re talking in bed then not... particularly...

Submissive: More so than you’d expect, but I don’t think I’d specifically label her this way. I’d describe her as attentive. ¬‿¬

In love: Yes

Single: No

Random Questions (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

Have they harmed themselves: Yes. This is a plot point in LWLS Book 2 (for the ME2-era flashbacks), and something Liara references in SAtS Chapter 19: “She carved all her old scars back into new skin.” Petra doesn’t take her Cerberus resurrection very well, let’s just say; it’s unnerving being a palimpsest.

Thought of suicide: Yes

Attempted suicide: Not... yet.

Wanted to kill someone: lmao, she tries not to, but... sometimes it’s just gotta be that way amirite fellas?

Have / had a job: Yep. If we’re talking pre-canon though, then she just took up odd menial jobs around the ships her parent(s) served on. Her father especially was the type to be controlling just for the sake of being controlling, so she didn’t have many opportunities to follow her academic passions; if her parents caught her enjoying something, they usually took it away. Before her enlistment, she also had to devote an excessive amount of time to PT/healing and (failed) training after her botched L3 surgery---one she only consented to under duress.

Have any fears: She has problems with vulnerability, which is why she usually handles situations either with stoicism or inappropriate and unnecessary humor. Relationship-wise, it’s hard for her to reconcile how she fears being alone while also feeling deeply uncomfortable with being Known™.

Family

Sibling(s): None

Parent(s): Hannah Shepard, Artur Nazari

Children: None

Significant other: Liara T’Soni

Pet(s): Fish (dearly departed, RIP). I see Peesh as a dog person, though. Big slobbery dogs.

#petra shepard #pshiara #SAtS #LWLS

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trashylvania · 3 years

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Black Lives Matter, amirite?

I'm near-certain that the only possible context for your sardonic response is a post I made yesterday about wanting to get my mom out of the dangerous neighborhood she's in because I'm terrified she's gonna be a victim of violent crime, and instead of quickly contradicting your implied assumptions and calling you a racist and a troll, I'm gonna use your question as my framing to talk about some issues I don't see people discussing often enough on here. I've been meaning to write a long-form political post for a while, and your response has given me an excuse to finally do so. I write about and study these topics academically in the social sciences + public policy studies and want to share some of what I've learned, in case you or anyone reading is interested.

As for racial stereotypes regarding crime in Chicago (the city where my mom and I are from), some high-crime neighborhoods in Chicago have a notable, historical racial component thanks to generational disadvantages imposed by a housing policy known as 'redlining' from the 1930s to the 1960s: as a quick summary, this was a primarily racially discriminatory practice that essentially prevented majority-black families from moving out of the inner city by designating them as too high of an investment risk for banks to provide home loans, which really started devastating majority-black communities once deindustrialization hit and factory jobs left -- leading to a rapid increase in poverty and loss of most employment opportunities within those communities. (Here's some links on this phenomenon: history of redlining in Chicago, effects still felt today in communities historically affected by redlining, and a research journal examining how practices like redlining isolate these neighborhoods from the rest of the city and create essentially a bubble of violent crime).

However, despite your implicit assumptions, that's not the case in the neighborhood my mom and I are from. In this case, both the victims and perpetrators of crime are from all backgrounds: black, brown, and white. Why? Because our neighborhood, like many in Chicago and across America, has been heavily affected by the Opioid Epidemic. The real criminals, systemically speaking, are predatory and negligent pharmaceutical corporations.

While the running narrative and assumption is that the Opioid Epidemic is really only a problem in majority-white, poor rural communities, it isn't (and side note: if your activism neglects or shuns poor rural and urban whites, you don't really give a shit about actual social justice, please clout-chase elsewhere). The Opioid Epidemic's effects are way more far-reaching than people might realize and has absolutely decimated poor and working-class communities all throughout the country, inside and outside of cities; the residual effects of the policy failure known as "the War on Drugs" (which in practice was more of a "war on the poor, black, and brown") has absolutely served to exacerbate these issues, but is also entwined with government lenience on corporate crimes, corporate lobbying for deregulation policies, lack of access to information resources and infrastructure for public healthcare in both rural and inner-city areas, the stigmatization of addiction and mental illness, the Global Economic Recession of 2008 and its effects on employment, deindustrialization and economic globalization's twin impact on the loss of American manufacturing jobs, etc that has lead to a social, economic, and cultural epidemic of nationwide despair that has yet to be addressed with substantive national policy in a holistic manner. (Here's some links: a research article that I think is one of the best overviews of the Opioid Epidemic's causes and impacts, a research article that details how pharmaceutical companies dodge litigation and includes the results of court cases and how paltry the consequences were compared to the devastation their drugs, negligence, and profit-seeking cause, a manuscript on research and policy aimed at combating the epidemic and how it affects socioeconomically depressed groups such as incarcerated people, veterans, and rural communities, and a well-sourced article that is admittedly politically biased towards my view that single-payer healthcare is the only substantive policy solution for the Opioid Epidemic and widespread health issues in general).

Pretty much everyone knows at least a few people who are addicted, or who overdosed, or were killed by drug-related violent crime in areas like this. That's messed up, and because it's ultimately perpetuated by corporations and its impact is greatly exacerbated by class, I don't expect this administration or rich neolibs on Twitter moralizing for social capital to do much of anything substantial or give a single genuine call to action on it. This opens up a whole conversation about how social justice has been co-opted by wealthy interests who have eclipsed class issues with weaponized identity politics -- before anyone gets angry, identity politics are still worth addressing especially as they intersect with class issues, but sufficiently analyzing this topic in a critical manner easily warrants its own separate post. (Nonetheless, here are some links on how easily social justice narratives can be manipulated by those with wealth and influence to ultimately perpetuate inequality and retain the economic status quo: - an excerpt from Manufacturing Consent that describes this phenomenon, which has existed long before the advent of social media, an article with a link to a great report about how social media politics are not representative of the majority of Americans' views [crucial if you care about effectively communicating your goals and motivating people to help your cause; also surprisingly, the linked report illustrates that most Americans in the real actual world are more tolerant than given credit for, and their issues with social justice stem from how activists - primarily those based in social media - approach political discourse], and a fantastic article about how neoliberalism's hyperindividualist fracturing of identity has negatively impacted substantive progress).

So, all in all, I see the damage done by the influx of opioids in my old neighborhood and the violence it precipitates due to a lack of proper rehabilitative and medical infrastructure for poor and working-class people. People with addictions are treated like criminals and thrown in my county's overfilled prisons. It pisses me off that this isn't addressed enough, because it's an absolute outrage, and exposes how these systems would rather let our classes kill each other or die before holding pharmaceutical corporations properly responsible and instituting universal healthcare for poor and working-class people.

I hope to see a call in the near future for more cohesive discourse and activism that isn't harmfully devoted to the atomization of identity and that isn't dictated by academics in the Humanities, wealthy influencers, establishment politicians, celebrities, or Extremely Online activist personalities -- all who are out of touch with real-life people, the issues they face, and how they speak about and view them through their own lens. Because if you want meaningful progress, ignoring or paying mere lip service to class/economic issues -- and their impact on sociocultural issues -- will ensure you never actually get progress as long as you willfully look the other way.

#trash.txt #i encourage reblogs if you wanna share the info!#because i kinda write these off the cuff it is definitely not comprehensive #and since i'm not exactly writing a book here it really shouldn't be expected to be comprehensive lol #i don't get politically-related asks often and this was something i wanted to post about soon regardless #feel free to add to this discussion but please do not use this as an opportunity to plug harmful or divisive narratives #and let me know if you find any great reading material to add to this #trying to keep my writing and research skills sharp while on break i guess lol #ask #anon #hope i don't get hell for this for some reason but i think if we fail to constructively criticize social justice it will fall apart #plus i notice a lot of people forgetting that economic justice is a big huge part of achieving progress and wanted to focus on that

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