#ARTHUR STOP SECRETLY THINKING BADLY OF YOURSELF I WILL HELP YOU

[tansyuduri]

One of these days I'm gonna do a silly little fluff oneshot of Arthur and Merlin NOT dealing with trauma

[altneuland]

so, I think it is time to reveal my favorite ship for Daniel. I ship him with Alfred, and the Alfred I use is a modified version of the canon.

I will not go into my reasoning of why I ship them, you can always ask me about it or look it up yourself. I will go now to their lore and history as a couple (briefly, you can always ask me if you have more questions).

🇮🇱 AmeIsra: More than allies 🇺🇸

act i.

When Daniel was still a wanderer, trying to find a way to gather money so he could finance his plan to get back home to Zion. That’s when he first met Alfred. Alfred offered him a job and he accepted. Daniel worked for  Alfred for a while before coming back to Europe. 

When Daniel worked in the states, he told Alfred everything about what he wants, his home, etc.  Alfred was overwhelmed with this, and first decided not to intervene. 

Later, the independence war started in Israel and as Alfred decided to, he didn’t intervered. But that didn’t last for long. He got notified about the situation and he then couldn’t stay out of it. Only then he secretly helped Daniel in a few ways. It was very discreet since he had to keep it a secret from everyone including Arthur, who fought against Daniel at that time. 

After the part of the war against the UK ended, Alfred tried to convince Daniel to stop the war and give up on being independent. His argument was that Daniel isn’t strong enough and would for sure lose his independence very fast in the good case. In the bad case he could get injured or even get killed. 

Daniel didn’t like the way Alfred is preaching against him to say the least. He was humiliated by Alfred and called him out for not fully supporting him. Daniel took it a step further and demanded not to have any interaction with Alfred ever again after that. 

act ii.

Both Daniel and Alfred decided to let the other go, but it didn’t last for long. Soon, the USSR noticed Daniel’s importance, and he started building ties with him. Alfred did not remain silent to that, and had to put his step in that as well. 

Daniel and Alfred’s relationship started going off and on, and when they were off, it was Daniel and Konstantin’s relationship going on. Daniel didn’t notice the game going on above his head at all, as he admitted to enjoying the sudden interest in him. He felt like he was being valued. 

This situation continued in a low phase, until the year of 1967, and the 6 days war happened. Daniel proved his value even more. At the first time since their fight, Alfred admitted to Daniel that he was wrong when he accused him of not being strong enough. 

After the war, Daniel started behaving egocentric and angry. 

act iii

After the 6 days war, Daniel either proved his value. His neighbor Egypt (Nour) who was injured in that war, had good ties with Alfred, and kindly asked him to intervene between the situation of him and his adopted brother. 

Alfred agreed and started building a more meaningful relationship with Daniel so he would listen to his request regarding Nour, since Daniel snapped every time Nour or any of his neighbors were mentioned in a conversation, even a bit. He wouldn’t listen, and act egocentric and delusional. At this point, Alfred noticed that Daniel is going through something and needs a different approach if he wants him to agree to any contract or deal. 

The friendship grew, but it was too late. Alfred didn’t find a good way to soften Daniel enough on time, before Nour started a war on Kippur of 1973, which when Daniel was badly injured. This was also his wake up call to pop his bubble and get back to reality. At this point, Daniel became much more depressed but also aware of his problems. His mindset matched Alfred’s old mindset about him; he was too weak. But at this breakpoint, Alfred decided to be strong for him. 

act iv

After the war, Alfred promised to be next to Daniel’s side, no matter what. He declared “Special Relationship” with him. Since this point and on, this relationship is official.

In 1991, there was a war between the USA and Iraq, the gulf war. In which war, Israel was dragged into. Alfred blamed himself for that and decided to move his forces to Israel, where he spent most of his days at that war. This war was the first time both Daniel and Alfred had their shared domestic life together. 

Lately, Daniel has become more vocal about his needs, while Alfred has become more indifferent about them. But yet, this relationship is strong and going.

🇮🇱 Headcanons 🇺🇸

Love language.

Alfred is the verbal one of the two. He talks out his emotions, as soon as he feels them. He isn’t shy about it. Though, in the past it was harder to do. Alfred used to feel blocked in front of Daniel. As the time went by, Alfred learned how to say what’s on his mind out loud. 

He is also very physical. He will hug, kiss, hold or touch as a love message. He makes sure that Daniel knows every moment how he feels. 

Daniel, on the other hand, is very subtle. He doesn’t talk a lot about his feelings. His body language is louder, though. Alfred learned to read his body, and therefore tell what’s on Daniel’s mind. Daniel is purposely sending messages through his eyes, hands, torso and so on. He has a harder time talking, either because he is a stutterer, and because he’s a shy man. 

But when he is angry, he won’t keep his thoughts inside for so long. He will snap. Unfortunately, his emotional nature will make him lose proportions fast. 

With others.

When with others, both know how to give the other space. Both have their own family and social lives, and let others enjoy them too. But both expect to be the others’ main priority, while Daniel is less needy due to him being an introvert, and understands Alfred’s responsibilities. 

special thanks to @dolceminerva97 for this amazing commission!

[fangirl-ramblings]

Pairing: Charles Smith x Female Readee

Word Count: 3222

Summary: Love is in the air around camp, but has Cupid's arrow somehow missed you and Charles?

Notes: The fluffiest of fluff, Reader POV / Charles POV

This @rdr-secret-cupid gift is for one of my favourite people - @12timetraveler. My sincere apologies for this Valentine's / birthday present being so late, but hopefully it's well worth the wait 😘

~* Tumblr Masterlist | Stories on AO3 *~

Cupid's Arrow

Reader's POV

14th Feb 1899

You looked around to see Dutch sitting in his tent, whispering sweet nothings to Miss O'Shea while Sean was trying his hardest to win over Karen, whose icy demeanour was starting to thaw with each passing drink he was plying her with. Hell, even John had had a little too much to drink and summoned the courage to pick a small posy of flowers and present them to Abigail as a small Valentine's gift. 

You liked seeing the camp happy like this, all relaxed in each other's company; the likes of Javier and Tilly sitting next to each other as the former strummed on his guitar and filled the air with a sweet melody, or young Mary-Beth, enjoying the latest romance novel she acquired, only to tear her eyes away from the page to gaze lovingly towards an oblivious Arthur before continuing her story.

And while Micah's grumbling about it "not bein' right, someone like him talkin' to a fiiinnnne woman like her," as he watched young Lenny saying something to make Jenny giggle from across the way, was enough to for everybody to tell him to shut up, it certainly wasn't enough to dampen the mood around the place.

It was even nice to see Miss Grimshaw laugh and smile as she joined the older camp members in their reminiscences about previous Valentine's days with their own past loves, soon followed by raucous singing of filthy songs but as you took your makeshift seat of a crate at the poker table, you couldn’t but help feel Cupid’s arrow had struck everyone and somehow bypassed you. 

You had secretly hoped that Charles would have joined in with the party, but the minute Dutch wound up his gramophone Charles had disappeared into the woods to take his position on guard duty.

While you'd taken many opportunities to try to make conversation and try to get to know him better over the last few months, you still found him to be a man of few words - but you liked that about him. The camp was full enough of loud-mouthed characters like Sean and Uncle that any moment you found yourself sitting in a comfortable silence with Mr. Smith was bliss.

As the night drew on and more and more alcohol was heartly consumed by all, you felt your eyes growing heavy and couldn’t summon the energy to sing along with the lyrics of “The Louisville Maid”.

   "Well as fun as this is, I'm gonna call it a night," you announced to your campmates, knowing full well that nobody was really listening. You sighed as they were caught up in their merriment and headed towards your tent… only to walk straight into Charles.

   "Whoa, careful there," he told you, giving you a small smile as he placed those big, strong hands of his upon your arms to help stop you from falling over on the spot.

Your face burned as you felt your face grow redder and with each passing second as you enjoyed his gentle but firm touch, causing you to look away to avoid staring into those beautiful, deep brown eyes of his. You hoped that he thought your flushed appearance was a result of all the alcohol running through your veins and not the thought currently running  through your mind; what it would be like if he suddenly dipped and kissed you with a fervent passion?

   "Sorry Charles, I… I… I hadn't realised you'd finished your shift already. Want a drink?"

    "I'm okay, thank you, I was gonna try and get some sleep… and I think you should too - big day tomorrow isn't it?" Your brow furrowed as you tried to rack your brain. Had you arranged to go on a job and completely forgot? Charles watched you, with a confused look. "Oh, I thought you'd mentioned the other day that it was your birthday? Maybe I got it wrong?" 

   "Oh my word, yes it is," you gasped in wonderment, "I can't believe you remembered."

   "Guess I just have a good memory for special occasions," he grinned, brushing a loose hair from your face without thinking, making you weak at the knees.

He cleared his throat and moved his hand away. "Well we best both go get some shut eye before the sun comes up. Good night and sweet dreams." 

You watched him walk to his tent, before heading to your own. Still smiling to yourself, you drew the flaps shut and fell on the cot, relieving that brief moment you just had with Charles over and over as you closed your eyes and let sleep wash over you.

15th Feb 1899

As the sun beamed through the gaps of your tent, you woke up to a very different camp atmosphere compared to the night before. It was eerily quiet; with everybody still in bed, sleeping off the hangovers they'd given themselves at the party.

Deciding to make the most of having a quiet camp all to yourself, you sat yourself up and stretched - your muscles and joints aching in a way that made you laugh. Another year older today and your body was certainly reminding you of that fact with all the aches and pains you suddenly started feeling. 

A part of you doubted anybody else would be able to remember that today was your birthday but you smiled as you saw Mary-Beth hadn't forgotten; she'd wrapped a romance novel with one of her ribbons and left it on your trunk. Next to it was a little handwritten note from her, wishing you a very happy birthday and how "the way the heroine in this story reminds me of how you act around Charles, maybe if you read it you'll end up with your true love too. x"

You playfully rolled your eyes; ever the romantic, Mary-Beth had seen you gazing at Charles one day and decided you were destined to be together.

Pulling on some fresh clothes, you stepped outside and made your way towards the coffee pot, presuming nobody would have thought to wash it out and prepare it ready for the morning. Yet, to your surprise, you lifted it up to find it freshly brewed and still piping hot.

   “I figured everybody would be wanting some when they woke up,” Charles chuckled, walking behind you carrying some logs for the campfire.

   “I’d say; seems they all had a lot to celebrate,” you laughed, pouring yourself a cup. “You want one?” you asked, offering Charles the filled mug currently in your hand.

   “I’m okay thanks, I had one before I made a start on tidying the place up.” 

   “Oh trust me, I wouldn’t worry too much about that today - Grimshaw will have such a headache, she'll be far more focused on getting all the quieter jobs done," you giggled knowing from previous experience how badly Susan seemed to suffer from next morning hangovers.

He carefully placed the chopped wood next to the campfire before turning his attention back to you. "Oh I bet," he grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Actually, I have an idea that might help keep camp running smoothly and stop people grumbling.'

   "Oh?" Curiosity had gotten the best of you and you were intrigued to know what he was thinking.

   "I saw supplies were running low and was thinking of doing some hunting later… a good hearty stew might be what the others need to recover," rushing his words out before casting his eyes to the ground. "I, erm… I was wondering if you wanted to join me?"

   "What? Because I'm the only other person sober enough to safely use a weapon right now?" you teased. 

   "That's one reason, but I'd also like some good company." 

You stood gobsmacked as he turned away from you, quickly making his way over to Taima, pulling something from her saddle.

   "I… I'd like to spend time with you too, but I'm afraid my pistol is no good for hunting." You hung your head in disappointment, mentally kicking yourself that this could be your one chance to be alone with the man you'd admired for all these months - and you've lost it because you never took the time to invest in decent hunting equipment.

   "I can help you with that," Charles told you, pulling out an ornate looking bow and handing it to you. "I made it… for your birthday."

   "For me?" Shocked by his act of kindness, you traced your fingers over each of the detail engravings that ran along each of the limbs, tears starting to cloud your vision. "This is beautiful, but are you sure you mean to give this to me?"

   "Of course… a beautiful bow for a beautiful lady.” A sudden flash of fear crossed Charles’ eyes as he realised what he had just said, his body tensing.

   "You… think I'm beautiful?" Your eyes looking deep into his, searching for the truth.

He nodded. "The most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. If it's too awkward, we can just forget the hunting…"

He stopped mid-sentence as you kissed his cheek, his body relaxing as he realised he hadn't made a mistake in telling you.

   "It's not awkward at all, I've liked you for a long time but I could never work out if the feeling is mutual." You gently thumbed his cheek, "Let's go on this hunting trip and talk about this in private shall we?" You suggested as you signaled for Charles to see what you could see. 

Stood behind him was a small audience of John and Mary-Beth, both of whom were grinning over to you both. 

Charles playfully rolled his eyes and walked  you away from their gaze. 

   "Sounds like a good idea, wanna head out now?"

   "Lead the way Mr. Smith." You held out your hand and he gladly took hold.

   "Oh wait, you'll need some of these too" he reached back into his saddle to hand you a bunch of arrows… only to be confused as he heard you laughing.

    "What's so funny?" Charles asked, trying to read your expression.

   "Nothing… just looks like Cupid's arrows found me after all."

Charles' POV

14th Feb 1899

   “I’ll take over here if you want,” John grumbled, clutching his face as he approached where Charles was currently taking up guard duty in the wooded area on the outskirts of camp. “I reckon my Valentine's night is as good as over.”

Charles turned to face his campmate, the moonlight showing a fresh red looking handprint across John's cheek. "You blew it with Abigail then?"

   "Yep, I pushed my luck just a little too much," John chuckled lightly, "But I'm sure I'll  survive. Go on, you go enjoy yourself… I saw [y/n] looking all lonesome up there, she could probably do with some company."

John waggled his eyebrows as Charles pretended to scowl; alcohol had given him loose lips one night and he had ended up confiding in Arthur and John about his feelings about the camp lady he'd taken a shine to. But he couldn’t hold the expression for long as a smile crept over his lips he thought about you.

   "I'll probably just get some shut-eye instead, but I have been busy making this for her." He lifted up a beautiful bow that was resting against a nearby trunk. "It's her birthday tomorrow and she mentioned once she'd be interested in learning to hunt properly."

   "You're a big old softie, ain't you Charles Smith?" John chuckled. "Well, I'm sure she'll appreciate the thought."

   “Don’t you go ruining my reputation, John,” he laughed, making his way to the clearing where all the gang's horses grazed peacefully.

Taima looked up, nickering as she saw her owner nearby.

   “Just a passing visit for now girl, but we can go out on a ride tomorrow,” he whispered to her, stroking her neck as she nuzzled against him. “In the meantime, I want you to keep this safe for me.” Charles lifted his saddle onto the hitching post that Taima was attached to, and carefully placed the bow into the holster on it. She watched her owner with curiosity, her ears pricking up as heard Charles rummaging in his saddlebag to retrieve an apple to reward his trusted Appaloosa for her loyalty. 

The music was still playing as he walked back into camp, only this time it was Pearson’s accordion and Uncle’s banjo that filled the air as Miss Grimshaw sang a bawdy song. It was clear that the party wasn't ending anytime soon, but that wasn't going to stop Charles from trying to get some sleep. Heading towards his tent, he found himself looking around for a quick glance of his heart's desire, only for you to crash straight into him.

   "Whoa, careful there," he told you, gently placing his hands upon your arms to help stop you from falling over on the spot. He could have swore he felt a jolt of electricity flowing through his veins as his skin touched yours.

   "Sorry Charles, I… I… I hadn't realised you'd finished your shift already. Want a drink?"

    "I'm okay thank you, I was gonna try and get some sleep… and I think you should too - big day tomorrow isn't it?" A flash of confusion crossed your face and Charles began to doubt himself. "Oh, I thought you'd mentioned the other day that it was your birthday? Maybe I got it wrong?" 

   "Oh my word, yes it is," you gasped in wonderment. "I can't believe you remembered."

   "Guess I just have a good memory for special occasions," he grinned, brushing a loose hair from your face without thinking, before catching himself and moving his hand away.

Not really wanting the moment to be over but knowing he must tear himself away lest he stay admiring you all night, he cleared his throat. 

   "Well we best both go get some shut eye before the sun comes up. Good night and sweet dreams." 

Making the short walk back to his own tent,  his heart soared as he thought back over your reaction to him remembering your birthday. Now he couldn’t wait to see how you would react to your present.

Settling on his bed roll, he watched you draw your tent closed before allowing himself finally sleep and dream of you.

Charles found himself waking at the crack of dawn, just as the last few stragglers were stumbling towards their bedrolls . Realising he could effectively have the tranquillity of camp to himself,  he gladly jumped up and set about getting ready for a new day.

Firstly he made his way over to Pearson’s wagon to grab a few coffee beans and started brewing a fresh pot. Noticing the meat supplies were running dangerously low, Charles made a mental note to go out hunting later and wondered if this could be the ideal opportunity to ask the birthday girl to join him.

While he waited for that certain someone to wake up, he had already  stoked the fires back to life and disposed of the empty bottles that were scattered all around camp before finally enjoying a short break with a fresh cup of coffee.

It wasn't until he had made a start on chopping wood he had heard footsteps behind him and smiled to himself as he looked over to see [y/n] making her way over to the coffee pot.

   “I figured everybody would be wanting some when they woke up,” Charles chuckled, walking up to her with an armful of logs for the campfire.

   “I’d say; seems they all had a lot to celebrate,” she laughed in that sweet way that made Charles’ feel all warm inside as she poured a cup. “You want one?” asking as she offered the mug in her hand towards him.

   “I’m okay thanks, I had one before I made a start on tidying the place up," he explained, walking over towards where the chopped wood was to be stored.

   “Oh trust me, I wouldn’t worry too much about that today - Grimshaw will have such a headache, she'll be far more focused on getting all the quieter jobs done,"

Charles chuckled as he carefully placed the firewood down before realising this was his chance and turned his attention back to you.

   "Oh I bet," grinning with a twinkle in his eyes. "Actually, I have an idea that might help keep camp running smoothly and stop people grumbling.'

   "Oh?" you asked, tilting your head with curiosity.

He had noticed in the past that each time you asked a question about something that had piqued your interest, you would often tilt your head in this way and found it utterly adorable.

   "I was thinking of doing some hunting later… a good hearty stew might be what the others need to recover," Charles rushed his words out before looking away bashfully. "I, erm… I was wondering if you wanted to join me?"

   "What? Because I'm the only other person sober enough to safely use a weapon right now?" she smirked, and he felt his insides flip-flop. She was so damn beautiful.

   "That's one reason, but I'd also like some good company," he told her, quickly turning to go fetch the bow from Taima’s saddle.

    "I… I'd like to enjoy your company too, but I'm afraid my pistol is no good for hunting." She lowered her head in what seemed to be disappointment.

   "I can help you with that," Charles told her, carefully placing the bow in her hands. "I made it….for your birthday."

   "For me?" He watched as she traced her fingers over the engravings he spent so much time on, hoping the tears brimming in her eyes were because she was overjoyed. "This is beautiful… but are you sure it's for me?"

   "Of course… a beautiful bow for a beautiful lady.” He kicked himself inwardly for saying it aloud, 

   "You… think I'm beautiful?" Your eyes looking deep into his, searching for the truth.

He nodded. "The most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. If it's too awkward, we can just forget the hunting…"

He stopped mid-sentence as you kissed his cheek. The feeling of embarrassment replaced by one feeling like he could soar into the sky right now.

   "It's not awkward at all, I've liked you for a long time but I could never work out if the feeling is mutual." Gently thumbing his cheek, you suggested, "Let's go on this hunting trip and talk about this in private shall we?"

He followed your gaze to see Mary-Beth and John grinning at you both as they stood by their tents. 

Playfully rolling his eyes, Charles guided you away from their gaze. 

   "Sounds like a good idea, wanna head out now?"

   "Lead the way Mr. Smith." You held out your hand and he gladly took hold.

   "Oh wait, you'll need some of these too" he reached back into his saddle to hand you a bunch of arrows… only to be confused as he heard you laughing.

    "What's so funny?" Charles asked, hoping thewhole entire moment wasn't a set up so camp could make fun of him

   "Nothing… just looks like Cupid's arrows found me after all"

[helloooofandoms]

Old Friends

Hisirdoux x reader. Platonic! It had a theme I swear but then I couldn't stop writing. This takes place after Merlin's death but  before Douxie and Nari leaves for New York. There's a little timeskip to the present Douxie in New York as well.

word count: 5k

History was not your favourite subject. You loathed it actually, but when the topic of Camelot came around in class you were absolutely thrilled! To you any lesson that seemed like the fantasy shows you watched made you attentive. This wasn't your usual telling of the Camelot tales, the fall of King Arthur and the knights of the roundtable. No, your professor had gone the extra mile of stating that Merlin, a great wizard, was also a key factor in this tale. Accompanied by his apprentice named Hisirdoux. According to him, the Camelot battle was just some side plot that was hiding the bigger story. The fact that King Arthur's sister, Morgana was a sorceress who only wanted to reign destruction. The rest of the class waved it off. Mr Choi was no stranger to conspiracy theories. You always knew there was some truth to your teacher's words. Even if the truth was buried in a few myths it was still there right?

For the whole day you couldn't get the thought of wizards out of your head. It was farfetched but not unbelievable. You knew wizards, witches, and warlocks existed. They had to! The worldwide witch trials were proof of it. Whether or not some of the people were just simple humans and some secretly having power over the arts, there was definitely proof that they existed. Even if the proof was downright criminal. It's just like humans to kill the things they don't understand.

Yawning, you had a lot of time to research the fact that Merlin was indeed present at King Arthur's death and perhaps even beforehand. Your teacher had urged you to go to the nearest bookstore and find evidence to either build your case or deny it. Of course you chose the first. Something was telling you that you'd have no trouble looking for information. Call it a gut feeling. Though you decided to head home first and see what the internet had to offer. Your nearest bookstore wasn't too far from your home. On your way there you couldn't help but wonder about the wizard Merlin and if it was true about him having an apprenticee. Even even storing about Morgana seemed way too good to be true. How cool would it have been to be alive in that era! Watching brave knights and seeing magic first hand. Perhaps they even had monsters-

Your thoughts were cut off by you colliding with something. You stumbled back managing to take a fall. Did you run into a pole somehow? Groaning you opened your eyes to see a hand stretched out towards you. It belonged to a man. One with black hair and blue tips. Hesitantly you took it and he helped pull you up on your feet. Offering you a smile and a pat on the head he apologized. "Terribly sorry about that little lady, you should always watch where you're going." Perhaps it was your fault. You were too focused on daydreaming instead of looking where you were going.

"Its my fault. I wasn't paying attention." You nodded as your eyes darted down to his hand. What an interesting watch he was wearing. It almost seemed as if it was glowing. Looking down at your own wrist you grew surprised and started walking again. "Thank you for the help. I've got to get going." You waved at him before picking up your pace. Your parents weren't fans of you going out into town during the night so you needed to make it home quick before it got too dark out for you to come back to the bookstore.

After your arrival home you spent an hour searching for anything that mentioned this wizard Merlin. You came up empty handed. There was a lot of information about the battle at Camelot but most of it was centered around the King and what he had done. About his knights and even mentioned him having a sister. But there was absolutely nothing to be found about wizards. Sighing you let your head hit your desk. Books would be your only answer now. History required a lot of reading and you were much better processing information given to you orally. It's not that you found books boring it's just that when it came to history it was extremely extensive and there were oh so many details. It gave you a headache and after a while you could barely remember the key details.

Grabbing your house keys you told your father that you wouldn't be out too late and that you would only be going around the block to the bookstore. He was wary at first but as soon as he heard that it was for a school project he relaxed. Ah yes adults and their 'school is everything' mindset. He told you to be safe and you laughed at the comment once you walked out the door. This is Arcadia. The townsfolk might as well be invincible at this point. The amount of damages this place has seen and the way that everyone just becomes immune to it at some point is honestly astounding.

As you swung open the door of the bookstore that was about 2 blocks from your home you smiled as the scent of books hit your nose. A lot of people you knew found the scent suffocating or have told you that it made then sneeze. It didn't bother you at all in that aspect.

The front desk was right ahead and you didn't see anyone there so you took it upon yourself to browse. Who ever was working this shift had to have known a customer came. The door had a little bell that rang when you entered. It was odd that there weren't any alphabetical organization of the books so that meant the workers probably knew where everything was by memory. It would be a pain to fire someone and have to teach a new worker where everything was. You knew for a fact that if you worked here you would be absolutely lost when it came to the whereabouts of any book here.

You were heading into another aisle and stopped once you saw one of the workers. He was on a ladder putting up some of the books. You couldn't see his face but for some odd reason you look familiar. Then you realized it once you saw him reaching to put a book back in place. The weird watch on his arm, that was the man you ran into just an hour ago. What a coincidence that he worked here at the bookstore. "You!" Pointing your finger at him you watched as he screamed and lost his balance. Resulting in him falling off the ladder. You wanted to move and help him but you could only watch in fear as the ladder tipped over as well. It could have crushed him if he didn't move out of the way fast enough. You watched as this man rolled over out of the way and laid there on his back panting. "I've never felt that frightened since I dropped from the sky."

What was he talking about. Nervously walking over you glance over at the ladder then at him. You didn't mean to cause so much harm. What if he hurt his ankle really badly? Or dislocated something. "Sorry mister." You said offering a weak smile and an outstretched hand.

"Not mister." He groaned accepting your hand as you pulled him up. Dusting off his clothes he looked down at you. "Just Douxie." He said before moving to pick the ladder back up. While he leaned it against the bookshelf you wondered why his name had a familiar ring to it. Douxie.... it was quite unique, almost old fashioned. If that was his full name you knew for sure it was at least French in origin. Doux meant soft or sweet in the language. And the -ie ending just made you giggle. His name could be translated to sweetie or softie. Judging by his appearance that was probably not something he would enjoy being called.

"Softie huh?" You chuckled. He turned to walk over to you with a face full of confusion.

"What?" He asked. Douxie was really wondering what had made you laugh. All he did was say his name. He's gotten weird looks before because of it and the occasional "Did your mother really name you that?" But he never saw a problem with it. His name was definitely rare but even he has heard some names that would put his to shame. He prefers going by Douxie instead of his full name because well he was no longer living in the 12th century and well 21st century people can be cruel. Especially kids like you.

"Doux in french can mean sweet or soft. I think it fits you well." You were obviously teasing him.

"It's short for Hisirdoux." Douxie rolled his eyes and tapped his foot. "I thought you would've taken my advice the last time we spoke." He chuckled. "Now then what brings you to my humble shop?" He asked mentioning for you to follow him.

Your feet were moving slowly as you followed him. Your mind however was raging. Did he just say his name was short for Hisirdoux? That was not a common name in any way, shape, or form and if he was telling you he shared the same name with a wizard you needed information about you'd be lying if you said you weren't bouncing around right now.

He seemed to have noticed your current state of excitement and decided to address it. He couldn't recall saying anything that would've resulted in you staring up at him like he saved the universe or something. Granted, he has but it's not like you would've known about it. "What is it?" He asked slowly, knowing that the last time he asked this question it was only met with a silly remark.

"Your name is Hisirdoux?" You asked once for confirmation and he nodded. Clapping you gently gripped his arm. "Are you telling me that you share the name with a wizard that may have been around in the 12th century and may have been involved in the battle for Camelot? Not to mention the apprentice of a wizard named Merlin?!" Your eyes were huge now. Douxie thinks they resembled a chameleon's but that wouldn't be very nice to say to a girl. Besides how did you even know about him. He wasn't in the history books. No, that was just Arthur and maybe a bit of Morgana. Merlin also wasn't involved in too many stories read by humans. The only people that knew about him nowadays were Jim, Claire, Steve, and the other kids that were mixed up in the time travel drama. Anyone else was probably familiar with magic or was someone who knew of his master's death.

Anyway, you knew quite a bit and it could potentially be disastrous if the Arcane order were to find you. The possibility is slim to none but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. He just couldn't let you run around saying that you met a wizard, not that you could prove it, but it would be better for him to diffuse this situation now. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Douxie hummed as he attempted to lean on the wall casually. He accidentally tripped on the broom but managed to settle himself on the wall despite it.

"Oh Douxie I was supposed to tell you that Merlin-" a voice said but came to a stop. You and Douxie looked up to see a a flying cat descend to the floor. You were quite shocked but this had to mean that you were right. No ordinary librarian had a talking and flying cat with glasses. Besides he said Merlin's name too. There was no way he was getting out of this.

There really was no way douxie was getting out of this. Dragging his hands down his face he gave a glare to Archie who immediately stopped flying and instead meowed. As if that would help him. You've already interrogated him and managed to witness his non human best friend who happened to be a familair talking and flying. Maybe he should just resort to answering your questions after all. It didn't seem like you would leave empty handed. Besides he was curious about how much you knew too. Beckoning you to follow him you smiled as the cat brushed between your legs and moved to catch up to Douxie.

He guided you to a table and pulled out your chair before sitting in the one opposite from you. Resting his chin in his palms you stared at one another. He looked tired. There were literal bags under his eyes and- oh he just yawned. Now that you were actually face to face with him you were sort of nervous. Sure he may seem cool on the outside but he was still a wizard who lived this long. Maybe he sacrificed kids for his immortality. Just then his cat nudged his foot and he sat up straight. The guy was totally dozing off. In Douxie's defense he was too busy saving Arcadia to think about regulating his sleep schedule, not to mention the fact that he had like three part time jobs and also needed to continue his wizard studies while protecting Nari.

You offered a smile and he rubbed his eyes. Oh yeah, you were supposed to be having a conversation. Archie jumped into his lap and he gently stroked his friend while he spoke. "As you have somehow figured out. My name is Hisirdoux Casperan and yes I'm a wizard. This is my Archie, he's a familiar and my best friend who can also shape shift. You're correct about my involvement in the war and being Merlin's apprentice but how in the world do you know all of this?" He was curious as to why this kid was sitting in his bookstore at 7pm inquiring about his old life in Camelot.

When you inhaled Douxie had expected a brief response not a full on ramble. "Okay so my teacher started telling us about Camelot and the battle. He said you were there and your master too! That the two of you helped greatly and there was something about the King's evil sister but he couldn't get into all the details because well it's a research project. What kind of research project would this be if he just gave us all the answers, you know? Anyway everyone else thinks he's making it all up but I'm totally going to get the best score because I've actually met a wizard!"

Douxie only nodded slowly to show that he had in fact heard you. Did he understand? A little your words were way too jumbled and he swore he heard something about a sea search? Who knows the main point was that your teacher had told you all about this and from the looks of it the rest of your classmates. Definitely alarming, he was a bit worried that someone else out there knew the truth of what happened. Someone that wasn't directly involved. He just hoped that the information he gave to you wouldn't be used recklessly. By the sound of it the rest of your classmates would rule it off as some piece of fiction and maybe, just maybe  your teacher would think it was ridiculous too. The latter seemed the most difficult.

Now it was his turn to riddle off information. He started simply from the beginning about how he became Merlin's apprentice then went on to talk about the battle, how he got his cool staff, Merlin's unfortunate death and what happened with Atthur and Morgana. He left out Nari for obvious reasons and the fact that a few of your classmates may have been involved. You don't need all of those details for your report after all.

You were thrilled really that not only was a master wizard sitting in front of you but the whole story checked out and you were glad you asked for that pen and paper earlier. Not only did you get to witness his magic but it also allowed you to write down everything important. "Its a shame really." You hummed.

Archie had long gone off to take his nap not feeling very up to listening to the retelling of incidents. Truthfully he didn't want to be reminded about Merlin's death again. Douxie had to hold himself together as well when he mumbled out the fact that his master had died. He still blames himself and sometimes he gets nightmares but he shouldn't dwell on that right now. "What is?" He asked watching you scratch down sloppy notes.

Sighing you placed your pen down gently on the paper as your eyes ran over the text before peeking up at the guy before you. "That someone as great as you didn't make the history books."

It grew silent and you stayed quiet as you watched the look of uncertainty on his face. In the past 30 minutes of sitting in this bookstore you've learned that Hisidoux Casperan was probably one of the greatest people you've ever met by chance. He basically saved the world and nobody even knew. He was so...normal. It was difficult to believe he had been alive for 919 years now. Sure he had an extensive vocabulary filled with British slang and words that date back centuries but he fit into the mold of the 21st century so well. You guessed that's why no one was able to find out about his secret. He was great at adapting.

Hisirdoux didn't exactly understand where you were coming from. He's told you the story you wanted to hear. He thought the hero was painted as clear as day. His master Merlin. Even if you didn't pick up on that it seemed a bit farfetched for you to assume that he was the hero of this story. He wanted to tell you that you've got it all wrong. That he had no place in those books your school deemed mandatory. But you interrupted him before he could speak.

"It's alright." You said standing up while collecting your paper. "Even when the years go by I'll surely remember the master wizard. The apprentice who became a legend. I'll write this down someday, that way your legacy won't be lost." You moved towards the door as you spoke and he followed after you. Interested in what you were saying. "I'll call it the Tales of Hisirdoux." A goofy grin made its way on your face. "What do you think?" You turned back to get his response.

Shaking his head with a smile he opened the door for you. "I think it'll be a best seller some day. Just make sure you pass your report first."

"It's a research paper." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Uh huh.....there's a difference?" Douxie asked trying to blink the sleepiness away as he yawned.

"I can forgive that. Only because you're really old." You teased giving him a peace sign when you bid him farewell and hurried back home. Your parents would freak but hey at least you were being assured an A.

Douxie watched you leave before shutting the door. "What an interesting kid." He thought aloud.

Douxie wrestled with the doorknob to his apartment. He didn't know why they needed so many locks. If the Arcane Order showed up they most likely wouldn't stop to pick it. They'd probably just knock the blasted door down. But Alas, his familiar wanted to make sure Nari was safe from New York thieves, as if he couldn't handle one or two himself. Finally getting it opened he entered then kicked it closed. "Archie did you leave any pizza for Nari and me? You know I'm running low on money and-" he was taking off his shoes when he felt a spike in magic. How did he not notice it before he came in? He was on high alert as he slowly looked up. There was Archie, Nari, and some random girl standing in his kitchen obviously interrupted from their precious conversation.

"Douxie!" The girl smiled as she came charging towards him. Did he know her? Crushing him in a hug he felt the remaining life drain from him in an instant. He was already tired from working at the pizzeria downtown and the subway ride back had him in shambles. Seriously, how could you just allow your baby to wail like that? He would've moved but that would be considered rude and there weren't any empty seats. The last thing he wanted to do was squeeze himself under five other people holding onto one pole.

"Okay okay you're squeezing the daylights out of me." He muttered gently pushing the girl back.

"You don't sound so happy to see me. I mean for someone that's writing a book about your legacy you would think I'd get a hug back or I don't know a hello?" You huffed crossing your arms over your chest and turning your head.

Hisirdoux was beyond confused. With a raised eyebrow and a familiar that was expecting him to say something he took another look at you and sighed. "Alright love, just tell me who you are, why you're in my apartment, and if you're just here to lead the Arcane Order to us don't you think you could have done this earlier in the day to save me the trouble of going to work?" Originally he thought that maybe Nari had gone from collecting plants to collecting New Yorkers but with the magic radiating from you he knew it was a little unrealistic.

It was your turn to be confused. "Arcane Order?" You repeated. Who the hell was that? Glancing down to Archie who was no longer sitting on the countertop but rather brushing past your legs you smiled.

"Hisirdoux, since you're not aware this is y/n, from Arcadia." He spoke as he pushed his glasses back. Nari had soon joined your side as well looking ecstatic to see a new face.

Arcadia? The only kids he knew from Arcadia was the trollhunters gang and that little girl who-

Wait.

You were that little girl?!

You laughed as his sudden realization affected his expression. He didn't have droopy eyelids anymore and wasn't standing like he was about to pass out from exhaustion. No matter how long he's lived he still can't sleep regularly. You sighed internally. Would you end up like him too? "Y/n L/n." You stuck your hand out. "Perhaps I didn't state my name when I pestered you three years ago."

Douxie accepted your hand shake before shuffling over to the couch. You followed him and took a seat as he did. Archie had curled up on his lap and Nari wormed her way beside you. His couch was fit for two people but Nari was smaller than you were so she managed to fit fine. "What brings you to New York y/n?" The wizard asked as he stared at the television. It seemed that after he realized you weren't a threat his tired mood had made a reappearance.

"I'm going to NYU this year and a certain sorceress mentioned that you were in New York so I decided to drop by." You answered. Honestly, you had wished to see Douxie after you turned in your research report but it had been too late. You weren't able to see him on that day or the next. It took a month before you went back to the bookstore and by then he had already up and left according to Claire.

Douxie looked at you with one eyebrow raised as if he wasn't buying anything you said. "Okay fine! I'm not lying about NYU by the way but last year I started noticing weird stuff happening." You looked down at your hands then back up at your friend. He was urging you to continue. "Something dark had been following me around. I have no idea what it was or who it was until it attacked me. I managed to run away at least I thought I did but this thing cornered me. I must have gotten so scared to the point that I blasted it." A yellow ball of light shone in your palm. "I've never done anything like that before and I was scared it would return so I tried my best to read some of those books you left lying around in the bookstore. The ones about magic. When I learned a few basic spells I knew it wouldn't be enough to protect my family so I decided to track you down. So here I am." The glowing light came to a stop.

Douxie was thinking. Something attacked you, something that scared you to the point you unleashed magic you never knew you had. It could only be the Arcane Order but why would they come after you? Was it possible that they already knew about your powers? Dragging his hand down his face he yawned. "How about you get some sleep and we talk about this later?" You suggested.This man looked exhausted. Archie had briefly mentioned that Douxie worked all the way across town from where they live at a pizza parlour during the weekdays on top of another job at a fish market down the block on the weekends all while tackling odd jobs and making sure there was a protection spell around the apartment at all times. No wonder he was drained.

"No no it's okay." Another yawn escaped and you stood up only to grab a blanket and drape it over him.

"Master wizards need their energy." You reminded him as he settled into the couch.

"But-"

"Don't but anything me Douxie. I'll make sure to leave out the fact that you're sleep deprived in the book. Don't want the kids thinking they can do anything without needing a good night's rest." You said using your magic to turn down the television. It was five in the afternoon now, you could just hang out with Nari and Archie until he woke up.

Hisirdoux reminded himself to offer you some of the pizza in the fridge whenever he woke up. You decided to continue your conversation from earlier with Archie and Nari back in the kitchen. "Are you going to ask him?" Nari asked as she tended to her plants.

"I don't know. He has a lot on his plate right now I don't think I want to add more. Besides what if he says no? What do I do then just go back to my ordinary life and hope that thing doesn't find me?" You opened the fridge to help yourself to whatever they had. To your amusement they had pizza. Knowing this family's circumstances it would be best to leave them with what they have but Archie was currently begging you to put him out of his misery. They had been eating pizza for about a month now and no matter the different toppings the smell of it alone was dreadful. Archie was quite glad that Douxie didn't come home with a box today.

"Douxie may be busy but he's not heartless. Now that he knows you're in danger and this may be linked to the Arcane Order the chances of him saying yes outweigh the chances of him saying no." Archie riddled off. It sounded like he was scolding you but you knew he was just looking out for you. Pouting you threw a slice on a plate and stuck it in the microwave for a minute.

"Who's this Arcane Order anyway?" You grumbled. If they even made Douxoe scared then they were a big deal. The wizard was a bit of scaredy cat though so maybe he was just in his head again. You think he would've improved in three years. You watched as Archie stretched out his back and Nari tried to shush you. Weird. Even they seemed to be on edge and well Nari was a literal goddess was she not? And Archie was a cat who could speak! Okay he was a really powerful familiar who took on the form of a feline but still. Grabbing your pizza from the microwave you desperately blew on it.

"A group of very evil people who ate after Nari. Before Merlin died he trusted Hisirdoux with protecting her." Archie said hopping off the counter and onto the floor.

You almost dropped your hot pizza out of shock. The greatest wizard is dead? "H-how long has he been...you know?" You asked as Nari picked up Archie and stroked him gently.

"About 3 years." The girl said with a sad smile. "Merlin gave his life to protect me and it's the last thing I want Douxie to do." She glanced over at his body now sprawled out on the couch as light snores could be heard.

"3 years?" You spoke in disbelief. That meant he would've died around the time you first met him. That was when you realized that he had never strayed from telling the story of Camelot those years ago. He didn't give you the luxury of extra details he kept it simple and straightforward. Not spending too much time on Merlin and Morgana's personalities in fact he would somehow direct the conversation back to you and your childish enthusiasm about the tale. Allowing you to add your own input. You suppose he's been on the Earth long enough to know how to build people's narratives. Besides you wouldn't have noticed it then, you were merely a child. One that had no idea about the mess she was getting into. You took a bite of your pizza and sighed. That cool wizard you met 3 years ago was just a guy stuck in some eternal time loop with his cat and adopted sister. Running from danger while working too many jobs and not getting enough rest. You were seriously contemplating not going to college to help him out.

Okay so what you met some weird wizard three years ago on a whim but now that you had magical powers maybe you could assist him in some way. He wouldn't have to be living on a prayer anymore. You could help him take down those bad guys and then he wouldn't have to stay in hiding like this. He would be safe to roam the world along with Nari and Archie. If he was in your place you think he'd do the same. He is awfully selfless. To the point that you knew he was planning on giving his own life during the Camelot battle. It still chills you to this day to think about it. Maybe you would take that offer the familiar was pushing you towards. Archie and Nari were staring at you worriedly. You did basically stop talking.

With the last bite of your pizza you stepped forward with a grin. "I'll do it. I'll ask Douxie to be my mentor and I'll help him fight the Arcane Order!" You declared loudly. Nari had accidentally dropped Archie when she went to clap. A hiss came from Archie as he was about to mouth her off.

"I'm trying to sleep!" Douxie slurred from the couch. You wondered if he was conscious enough to know what you were saying.

"Sorry master" you chuckled alongside Archie and Nari.

[smcc212]

In Debt Again- part 1

Pairings- None at the moment really. Might be a tiny bit of Tommy x Lizzie later on though, also, later on, some Tommy x adopted! Daughter...

Word count- 829 (short first part)

Warnings- mentions of child abused and neglect, a tiny bit of swearing... I mean... it’s the Peaky fookin’ Blinders.

A/N- So... I thought of this idea while I was sat in the living room staring at a wall so, here it is. PLEASE DONT READ THIS IF IT WILL TRIGGER YOU!! I don’t want to negatively affect people with my writing, especially if it could cause any mental breakdowns, episodes ect...

I hope you enjoy!!!

With shaking hands and a sweaty, well... everywhere. You finally got the courage to talk to the Shelby’s yourself.

Your father had accumulated a large amount of debt with Shelby’s- you didn’t know why- but you knew you you’d have to try and fix it for him to keep a roof over your head.

You sat in a pretty nice wooden chair with a slight amount of cushion on the back of it, making it more comfortable (the design on it wasn’t as beautiful as every chair had on it, but, oh well). The door opened as you, weirdly, thought about the chairs, and in walked Arthur, Tommy and John Shelby, along with Polly Grey. All of their eyes scanned over the bruises, cuts and scars plastered all over your face, neck and collarbone.

“So, why are you here?” Tommy asked as they all sat. Polly, a woman you’d secretly admired all your life, didn’t stop staring at the large slash on your collarbone. You regretted wearing a dress now.

“My father, Felix Knight, he’s in a large amount of debt with you.” The all stared at you, waiting for you to continue as you took a breath. “I’m not sure why he is, and, to be honest, I’m not sure I wanna know. However, I’m a bastard and my father’s all I’ve got. I need to help get rid of his debt in order to have a roof over my head.” You sniffed, but never let them see how close you were to crying. You never let anyone see you cry, your father would beat, no matter what it was over, he’d beat you. As a result you made sure to never cry in front of someone again.

Thomas leaned forward, resting his clasped hands together on the table. “Well, I personally think a man should own up to his own mistakes. I’m not gonna hurt you, no one here is, but I want to know where your father is?” His voice was so calm even as it seemed their a fury burning behind his eyes.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in three days. The only reason I know he’s in debt is that some blinders appeared in my house, turned it upside down looking for him. I guessed he owed you a lot after that,” you mumbled. The room became silent for a moment before Arthur sat forward, his eyes on your battered form.

“He do all this to you?” He asked, his gruff voice laced with anger.

“I-I’m not here about that,” You whispered, you knew your father would kill you if you admitted it to them. It was clear that he’d done it, but if you never said anything you might not get beaten as badly.

“So, yes, he did,” Tommy spoke up now. “How long has he been beating you?”

“Mr Shelby, I’m only here to help get rid of my father’s debt.”

“Your father’s debt is his business, not yours. Now, answer my question.” It was an order, but his voice was still soft as he said it.

“Sir, you don’t understand.”

Polly quickly spoke up. “You can stay with one of us. We’ll protect you from him, I give you my word.” She slowly reached over the table, taking your hand in hers.

“I can’t do that-“

“You can and you will.” Tommy cut you off. “I’ll help you, but you need to answer my questions, alright?” You nodded.

“Thank you, thank you so fucking much!” You exclaimed, squeezing Polly’s hand as they all, expect Tommy, smiled softly at you.

“You’re welcome, so, how long?”

“As long as I can remember. He needed someone to take his anger out on and since I was born it’s been me.” Tommy nodded, looking at you with soft eyes.

“What’s the worst he’s done?”

“Physically?” You questioned.

“What do you mean?” Tommy’s brows furrowed, perplexed by what you said.

“I mean, the worst physical thing he’s done is probably cutting me-“ You hear John and Arthur both mutter a quiet fucking hell. “-but sometimes, when he just doesn’t want to see me, he... he locks me in the broom closet... Sometimes for days. But then again I guess I wouldn’t really know how long, would I?” You laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension that filled the room.

“Fucking hell,” Tommy muttered, running a hand down his face. “Alright. Well, that’ll do for now. Come with me, I’ll take you to get your things and then we’ll go to my house; your new home, I guess.”

“Okay. Thank you, again. I really can’t describe how much this means to me.” You stood up and followed Tommy out to the car. Part of you was scared about this turn your life had taken, but mostly, you were glad. You’d finally be able to get away from your monster of a father. You’d never have to deal with him again... You hoped.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Hello Erika, my darling dear 💕Might I request some nail-biting comfort from Arthur? It's easily my worst habbit- I bite down to the quick and sometimes I bleed from it without even noticing. I was getting better before the pandemic, but now most nights I have to put bandaids on before I go to sleep because the stinging keeps me up (in fact I wear them most of the time now since it's the only thing that makes me stop- ugh- but hey, at least it's a good opportunity to provide some hand fluff🥰)

Eggggg ~ omg hi darling!!🥰🌷💖 hand fluff is the cutest thing omg especially if it’s about Arthur!!!! He speaks with his hands and he lives in the world through them and it’s so beautiful and tender. I can relate to this in a way - I have a really bad habit of picking at my face and as someone who’s had constant acne for over a decade it’s a Problem. It usually happens mostly when I’m anxious or when my hands aren’t busy, and thinking of Arthur helping me with stopping that habit is always very calming and soothing. I hope that this piece does something similar for you! If there’s anything I can change here because you dislike it or it isn’t true to you, please let me know! I love you so much omg 🥺😭💗OH and as a surprise - I personalised this piece for you skskskkssk I hope you like ittttt ~ 💜

TW; mentions of blood and self-inflicted injuries (nail biting). Implied NSFW at the end (lmao I’m not sorry).

Word count: 2,256.

You had done it again.

You had known that you would, despite telling yourself that you wouldn’t, for habits were hard to break and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop yourself from biting your nails. It was a subconscious action, one which increased when you were concentrating or when your anxiety heightened, and it was only too easy for you to bite your nails right down to the quick, and making yourself bleed was also a common occurrence. You never intended to bite your nails, and you definitely never meant to relapse once something far outside of your control had happened and turned your entire world upside down in the worst of ways, but you now had something, someone in your life which you didn’t have before.

You had your sweet, ethereal, beautiful Arthur Fleck, and now that he was in your life did you know that never again would you know even a single day without him. You didn’t want to know life without him, for he had given you everything that you never knew you had needed right up until the precise moment that you did. Indeed was it much the same for Arthur. He had waited almost thirty six years for you, and he would wait that same length of time all over again, for you were worth all of everything he had ever gone through and would undoubtedly continue to go through, unkind was life to he. You were soulmates, meant to be, and there was nothing either of you wouldn’t do for the other.

The usually grey Gotham sky had been especially blackened over the most recent days and the overhanging clouds were heavy with copious amounts of rain, so stormy was the climate. The weather wasn’t something you could prevent or change and there was nothing you could do about it once it started, but even so did it get in the way of the two of you going to your favourite little place to work. There were other places you could go but nowhere was as good as your place and it seemed that with the weather being as it was and your work being affected by that, and your mental health seeming to plummet specifically on the weekends, your habit of biting your nails had worsened and it was all Arthur could do to keep on top of it. He did it not because he had to, but because he wanted to; his heart ached to think of you being kept awake by the stinging in your fingers and many a night had he helped you to wrap them in tiny plasters so that you could sleep. Arthur took such good care of you that you almost didn’t have to do any self-care at all, and you did everything you could to love him just as hard. In taking care of each other were your own selves taken care of, so equal were the two of you in every way.

Arthur was currently sat beside you on the worn sofa. Every time you raised your hand to your lips, your front teeth nibbling at the material there, for daily did you make yourself bleed and nightly did you apply plasters so that the wounds could close up overnight, Arthur smiled wearily. “No, Gen,” his soft rasp would gently caress your ears and his fingers slid easily into the spaces between your own. Of course were you whole individuals but it seemed sometimes that you were made to hold each other’s hands, Arthur’s touch upon your body as familiar to you as your own. Arthur pressed kisses along your fingers and the backs of your hands, taking note of when you winced or hissed in air through your teeth, so badly did your fingers sting. “I know, darling,” Arthur did know, for he had his own habits which caused him harm, and he would never berate you for yours. He only ever met you with understanding, with kindness and with all the patience in the world. Arthur was only ever gentle with you, and so tender was his expression of love that sometimes it made you cry. How had you ever gotten so lucky? If only you knew that Arthur asked himself that same question about you every single day. Your mutual disbelief, awe and, oh, the love, was what would keep you together during even the worst of times.

As the morning news wound down and came to its end, having detailed tragedies and political events, economic situations and the cost of living increasing despite no corresponding wage rise, Arthur sighed and stood up. The hand which had a cigarette delicately dangled between two fingers swept through his dark hair, which bounced gently across his shoulders. He didn’t speak but you knew that he was getting ready to clean up the mostly tidy apartment, his sea green eyes roaming the cramped but cosy space as mentally did he list out things to do. It would all be done today, exhausted even as he was. Today was his only day off for the next week and even though he longed to remain beside you, there was work to do. The man of the house cleaned up messes; he didn’t leave them, thank you very much. Alas, he couldn’t be beside you all day every day, but when he was moving around the apartment, Arthur would periodically look over at you with a quiet air of concern about him even as intently did he observe you. He couldn’t catch you in the act of doing it every time, but more often as not would you hear your name spoken even from the other room the second you raised your hand to your lips.

You were always impressed and you fought off your amusement, though it saturated your voice all the same. “Wh - Arthur, how did - “ You were working on your screenplay. Inspiration served in the form of a horror film which spoke of the current times. It played out on the grainy old television which Penny had won during a radio competition years ago, and Arthur moved around you seamlessly. Knowing how important your work was to you, especially when you were in the zone, did he mostly leave you alone, not wanting to interrupt you more than he probably already was.

Dark curls lightly brushed against the tops of shoulders and fingers curled around the door frame as Arthur peered at you from around the corner, busy was he but never too busy for his Gen. “I know you, angel.” There was a trace of confidence in the upwards quirk of his lips, a moment of eye contact which spoke louder of his love for you than words ever could, and then Arthur disappeared back around the corner too quickly for you to reply, which was probably the point. The day passed in much the same fashion, with Arthur keeping an eye on you while somehow doing everything which needed to be done without so much as taking a break. Despite your many protests, Arthur refused all of your help; he only wanted for you to relax and to look after yourself. It was the weekend and Arthur knew that you needed to seize every moment of creativity that you could.

Indeed as the sun dipped below the horizon and the night sky signalled the start of The Murray Franklin Show did Arthur deem the apartment clean enough to pass the standards his mother drilled into him from a too young age, and he flopped down beside you on the worn sofa with a weary sigh. Irritated did he move around, a sofa spring digging rather painfully into his coccyx, and he bit back a frustrated laugh. You caught the throat convulsion and now was it your turn to cradle his hand in both of yours as you raised it to your lips, pressing kisses all over the backs of his weathered and slightly bruised hands. “It’s okay, Artie,” The sweetness of your voice, as naturally did love seep into every syllable, made his thin lips quirk upwards into a smile and Arthur squeezed his grip in yours.

His grip was too tight, for you winced, and Arthur gasped lightly as now was he the one reassuring you. “Let me see, darling,” There was some blood seeping through some of the plasters, especially towards the base of the nail, and Arthur cooed softly in understanding and in empathy. “I need to clean these for you. Please, Gen, I - “ Gentle fingers danced along the material of the plasters and Arthur began to peel them away. One by one did Arthur remove the plasters and when at last were all eight fingers and two thumbs bare and stinging in the cool air, he balled the dirty and used plasters up in his fist and went into the kitchen. You heard the tap running, some moving around and then Arthur was back with one of the brown paper bags from Helms pharmacy and a small bowl of warm water. 

Affection bloomed warmly in your chest and spread strongly through your veins and you couldn’t have stopped your grin even if you had tried. Arthur caught your smile as he sat back down, the small bowl of salt water carefully balanced on one knee and the paper bag, containing a new pack of plasters, on the other. You went through a lot of plasters and Arthur had secretly taken to rationing his daily cigarette consumption just so that he could provide for you, his one and only person who understood him. With a slow and careful hand did Arthur take one of your own in his and he carefully dipped the tips of your fingers into the bowl of water. You hissed in air through your teeth and Arthur cooed softly. He leaned forward and cupped your cheek in his free hand and pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead. “I know,” Arthur whispered, and he kept his forehead pressed against yours as he took your hand out of the water and dried it on a freshly washed towel which he had had slung over his shoulder; he was only wearing his almost comically baggy electric blue trousers, relaxed around you was he. With all the clumsy grace which came so naturally to him did Arthur almost squint as he applied new plasters to each finger and then was it time for your next hand to be cleansed by the water. The harsh stinging of the salt getting into open wounds was contrasted so beautifully with the tender way Arthur held your hand and the phrase, you have to be cruel to be kind flashed across your mind.

When at last did you have plasters on all your fingers and the water bowl and the almost empty box of plasters was on the small coffee table, the small paper bag now scrunched up and left discarded on the floor for Arthur to find tomorrow. He brought your hands up to your lips and smothered them in kisses; your fingertips received the gentlest of kisses, and your palms and the backs of your hands were given kisses which were almost bruising in their ferocity. The affection which had bloomed in your chest had now turned into a love so strong that it was hard for you to breathe and you almost ripped your hands out of Arthur’s so that you could grab his face and pepper him in kisses. Arthur was giggling under your touches in no time and you smiled against his skin and pulled yourself closer to him until you were almost in your lap. Arthur, unsatisfied was he with this, gripped you by the plush flesh of your thighs and tugged you onto him. You trusted him implicitly and allowed Arthur to do as he pleased with you.

“Wh-why,” Arthur broke off into a strained chuckle, “Why are you - “ You felt Arthur’s cheeks crease under your touch as he grinned, and you could only smile with him, his voice light and his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You rested your forehead against Arthur’s own and wound your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself even closer to him. He smelt of vanilla and of cotton, of stale cigarettes and of that cheap cologne you so loved, but also of home. Your mind, heart, body and soul were all aligned, a rare occurrence up until the day you had met Arthur, and you felt so peaceful in this moment even while you were in physical pain, your fingers almost throbbing from the stinging.

“You’re welcome.” It was a quiet, pleased murmur that Arthur settled into your embrace, but it wasn’t enough with you. Perhaps subconsciously did you decide what would be and It was with a suggestive twist of your hips that Arthur himself picked up on how you wanted to express your gratitude, and you saw the look in his eyes darken. Arthur’s grip on you tightened and he stood with you, your legs hooked around his slender waist. His green eyes never left yours as with muscle memory being his only guide did Arthur take you to bed...

But not to sleep.

A bad habit it may be to bite your nails, but with Arthur was it faced with acceptance, an easy manner of taking care of it, and love... always love.

AF/J @impulsiveclown   @astheworlddturns @fluffedstar @jokersqueenofchaos @germansarechill @tsukiakarinobara  @lynnesm @sagyunaro  @docsportello  @flowerglitterwoman @ben-solos-writing-avenger @jokers-doll @jokershyena @arthurjokersgirl @antonija89 @lilliryth @hotpacino @obsessedandthirsty  @call-me-harley-quinn  @anais-angel

[arsnovacadenza]

im screaming this is the same person from longingkisses btw and ur new mosaac fic lives in my brain the motif with red is so genius i genuinely love yandere isaac and wolf who just. couldnt stop. are there.... any more thoughts on them.... 👁

I revisited this fanfic sometime ago and decided to talk abt it now in case I forgot! Ahem. 

Please note that my headcanons only apply to my yandere AU and that particular AU only. You can adopt some if you’re planning to make yandere!Isaac yourself

Imagine Isaac being his usual tsundere self, being shy yet kinda standoffish at the same time. He meets Wolf, who’s also not into people despite being more sociable. There wasn’t really any chemistry between them at first

But as time goes on, Wolf came to fall in love with Isaac despite the warning signs.

Wolf finds it cute that’s Isaac tripping all over himself just to impress him. Before he even realizes it, he’s doting on Isaac. He likes to take Isaac to movies and fancy restaurants and such. Isaac’s invited him to stargaze more than once.

Isaac once made Wolf a bento but he’s a lethal chef so ofc it came out badly. Wolf consoled him by saying he can’t cook either

Wolf insists on keeping their relationship a secret, which probably helps drive Isaac into yandere mode

Isaac secretly hates the attention Wolf gets from his admirers. Instead of getting visibly jealous in a cutesy, otome male lead-ish way, he’s just silent and endures the whole thing. 

His resentment only grows and extends to Wolf’s other relationships. Including his friendship with Jean.

He wants to take down Jean, but doubts himself because the dude is an athlete. He doesn’t really care that he’s hurting Napoleon’s prospective boyfriend. In this AU he doesn’t really care about anyone but Wolf

The only person Isaac doesn’t particularly mind is Leonardo, who helped Isaac when he first moved to their high school.

Isaac bought that red lip tint just for Wolf. He also keeps bottles of nail polish to use on Wolf.

After being confined, Wolf worries day and night about his exams and preparations for uni. Only time will tell if he ever gets out of that apartment alive.

Also, some stuff abt the fanfic’s plot itself (TW Character death and Isaac murdering people)

I originally intended to include a segment in which Arthur comes barging into Isaac’s apartment.

He says he’s there because he misses Isaac, his fellow Brit kouhai (underclassman) but is actually there to snoop around because he’s been investigating Mo’s disappearance.

But then Isaac finds out, whacks him with a golf club or baseball bat, and D-words him.

Just when he thinks he’s done getting rid of the body (idk maybe he chops off the remains and stuff them in a box or something inside his closet), Jean and Napoleon suddenly come in and now Isaac has to rethink his tactics because he can’t take down two athletes with a golf club or a knife

Why he thinks immediately think about offing them instead of telling them to go away from behind the door and visit him another time, idk. Isaac probably got high on the thrill of murder

I decided not to include them because action scenes take a lot of work (my schedule’s pretty tight back then)  and my British-English is wack.

I included the Japanese honorifics on purpose because I wanted to capture that shoujo/j-horror aesthetics down pat. Isaac’s ramblings towards the end was also designed that way because yanderes in manga often say stuff that don’t make sense 

You guys got any Isaac x Mozart headcanons yourselves? Please share them with me cuz they’re my favorite (aside from Jeanpoleon and Nobukichou)

[pocket-clown]

Smile | Arthur Fleck x reader

// AN: I’m going to be entirely honest: I’m very shy about sharing this. This was actually the first thing that I ever wrote for Arthur, and I had posted it awhile back but deleted it within a few hours because I felt (and still kind of do) very... insecure about it, especially since I was, and still am, trying to get the hang of writing for Arthur and I worry that I write him too ooc.

My mental health has been kinda down in the dumps for the last few months (which brings me into thanking the few people that I’ve been DM’ing with on here and how patient with me they’ve been); a lot of stuff that I thought was calming down ended up suddenly flaring up really badly again, and so I wrote this in the span of about three days because I was feeling too bad to sleep those nights, and I needed some way to comfort myself.

Summary: Reader recalls the recent, first meeting she had with a certain neighbor of hers and hopes that it’ll bring about some sort of positive change to her life. Both reader and Arthur are, essentially, total strangers in this - something they both, secretly, hope will change. 

Continuation can be found here

Words: 3,064

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        Very few feelings carried the same weight that emptiness did, and the heaviness that was settled in the bottom of your stomach made your entire body almost ache with physical pain. You’d been able to stave it off for most of the day, but once you were home and left to your own company did it grow in size, and no longer were you able to just ignore it. It permeated your entire being, soaking into every bit of your conscience much like how the dampness of the freezing rain that was pouring down outside would’ve soaked into your sweater if you’d gone out without an umbrella, the thought of which making you curl further into the blanket you had wrapped around yourself as you lay in bed. 

Regardless of how hard you tried to force yourself to think of other things, like the good instead of the bad, or whatever was playing on your small television, you just couldn’t stop your mind from eventually wandering back to the thoughts that did nothing but remind you of how absolutely lonely you were - how utterly meaningless your life felt. It was nothing new - quite the opposite, in fact - but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with, especially since you were in a new environment where you were unfamiliar with pretty much everything that surrounded you, apart from the small amount of your personal belongings that filled your cramped apartment.

Though they varied in intensity, the feelings of loneliness and isolation never actually left you completely; they’d loom over you, day and night, sometimes only a light breeze that tickled the back of your conscience and other times a pest that gnawed a hole into it, and their presence alone made you dread your inevitable return to your small apartment in the evenings where you’d be left with nothing but yourself, your thoughts, and whatever program you could find on TV in a fruitless attempt at distracting yourself. You were just so unbelievably fed up with everything; fed up with feeling so stuck, fed up with feeling so miserable - fed up with just being. Even amongst your coworkers and the crowds of strangers that filled the grocery stores and the seats around you on the subway did you feel so far out of reach, so far out of touch with everyone, that sometimes you felt that you could stand in place and start screaming at the top of your lungs and not a single person would even so much as bat an eye at the outburst. At times you had a hard time even fathoming the fact that you existed alongside them, and you found it an increasingly hard feeling to cope with as time went on and you realized you weren’t really feeling any better like you thought you would’ve. You were beginning to completely isolate yourself; social affairs and being in public had little appeal when compared to the safety of your apartment, and leaving for work was really the only thing you could psych yourself up enough to actually do. 

Why you’d even decided to move to Gotham of all places boggled your mind, but deep down you knew it was a pathetic attempt at trying to surround yourself with more. Deep down, you craved more; more people, more places, more opportunities - because despite your general lack of interest in socialization, part of you actually desired some sort of connection that would give your small existence even a smidgen of something close to true life - something which you were beginning to feel was impossible to find. You’d hoped that moving to a highly populated place with cramped streets and the hustle and bustle of city streets and plazas would’ve encouraged you to come out of your shell, but it was beginning to feel like that was never going to happen, regardless of how much you tried to convince yourself that it eventually would.

That was, until, you actually made the move and found yourself your very own apartment in one of the many neglected complexes that the city had to offer. It was nearly vacant with only a handful of other tenants occupying it, but given your small savings and what little you made from your job it was all you could really afford. Though your hours were close to the normal 9 to 5, overtime for a meager addition to your pay wasn’t uncommon and you found yourself frequently returning home a few hours later - usually around 7, occasionally closer to 8. 

At first, you absolutely hated returning home so late - days at work tended to leave you completely drained of energy and the extra hours left you with little time to take care of non-work related responsibilities - but as the days went on, you realized that if it weren’t for the extra hours that you initially regret picking up, then you wouldn’t have met Arthur like you had.

Arthur - your socially awkward, almost-neighbor; the same guy you were actually warned to stay away from by another tenant when you first moved in. He’d told you something about how Arthur was unstable, something about him being weird and making everyone uncomfortable - but if you were going to be entirely honest, you really didn’t listen. You had always tried to keep yourself from judging someone on a superficial level, especially when you knew next to nothing about them and what little you did know came from the mouth of someone who didn’t even bother telling you their own name. Despite your disincline to believe what you were told about Arthur, though, you really didn’t feel the need to seek him out for any reason or another. He was another guy that lived in your building that you’d probably cross paths with on occasion, and that would be that. 

Or at least, you felt that way up until the day you actually met him.

                                                        -----

Purse in hand, you’d stepped out of your apartment without even a glance up as you rummaged through your bag. Plagued with some of the worst brain fog you’d ever had, you were beginning to develop a terrible habit of forgetting things and not realizing that you were missing something until you were well away from your apartment, and considering how absolutely atrocious your day had already been the absolute last thing you needed was for you to get to the market and realize that you’d forgotten your wallet, keys, or something else equally as important. It was late, nearly 8:30 in the evening, but an impromptu trip to the market was called for as you’d been putting one off for nearly a month and you were starting to run low on quite a few necessities as a result.

Mind far too preoccupied with both making sure you had everything you needed as well as attempting to make sense of the messy mental shopping list you’d made, you were so lost in thought that you failed to notice the presence of someone else in the hallway, and thanks to your complete lack of awareness you collided right into them - the two of you slamming together hard enough that your purse fell to the floor, sending what little contents it had in it scattering, and the other person stumbling backwards and onto the floor with a soft oof.

That other person had actually been Arthur, which you learned eventually, but at that moment you had no clue who the person you’d run into was, and that almost made you feel even worse about knocking them over. You were still new around, and you really didn’t need the others in the building to think you were both careless and rude. 

“- Jesus, I’m sorry!” You blurted out, completely pulled back to reality as you regained your balance and looked down to see who it was you’d run into. “Christ!, I wasn’t even paying attention - I’m so sorry, are you alright?” 

Your eyes met the soft green ones of the particularly tired looking man on the floor in front of you, and for a brief moment you’d forgotten that you’d just knocked him right over as the two of you just stared at each other. He seemed much more caught off guard by the interaction than you were (though you couldn’t really blame him since you doubt he really planned on getting shoved over), and you could feel your face redden with the heat of embarrassment once you realized that aside from your initial apology almost half a minute ago, neither of you had spoken a word or moved from your spots. 

As you stepped forward, prepared to stoop down and offer your hand to help him up, he stopped you before you could by pulling himself up, sweeping his hands behind himself to lightly brush the back of his pants off as he stuttered out a quiet apology.

“Are you alright?” You’d asked him, a bit bemusedly considering the fact that he had apologized to you when you were the one at fault. You kept your attention on his face, looking for any signs of discomfort or irritation; God knew that with the majority of Gotham’s citizens, most would’ve blown up at you for knocking them right on their ass like you had and so you’d braced yourself for the impending blow up - but when it never came and his response was much calmer than you had expected it to be, you couldn’t help but actually smile a bit out of pure disbelief.

“Yeah - I’m alright. I’m fine.” His voice, his deep but soft voice, sounded strained as he spoke, almost as if he were trying to keep himself calm. He probably didn’t want to be in this situation anymore than you did. 

“Are you sure? You fell pretty hard there.” 

“It was my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going -”

“Oh, no! Not at all, it was my fault - I was too busy messing with my… bag.” You cut him off, voice trialing off as you gestured loosely to the items scattered on the floor. “I should’ve been paying better attention.” 

Silence fell over the two of you, neither knowing quite what to say, and you couldn’t help but shift awkwardly in your spot. You debated on apologizing again or maybe even introducing yourself to him, but you figured that if he wanted to know, then he would’ve asked.

I really need to get going.

With a quick glance at him, you knelt down so you could collect the scant amount of items your purse had spilled, trying your damnedest to not be any more clumsy than you already had been by dropping them again, a task that proved difficult as you were so flustered that you were trembling. He seemed to hesitate in front of you for a second, as if he were trying to figure out if he should just leave you to your mess or help, and after taking a moment of what you assumed was contemplation he surprised you by joining you on the floor and handing you your runaway chapstick, an action you earnestly thanked him for. 

The two of you were silent as you collected everything, and once you had the last item it in your hand, you realized that you didn’t actually recognize it - a white, kraft paper bag that was rolled up to keep its contents from spilling out. It felt light in your hand, and when you turned it over to get a better look at it you were able to read the name FLECK, ARTHUR that was printed in bold, small letters along the top of the label that was stapled onto it.

Oh.

Oh.

This was Arthur. 

This was Arthur - this was the guy you were warned to stay away from? The guy who was helping you pick up the stuff that you spilled, the guy who apologized to you when you were the one who’d knocked him over? It made no sense. 

“Huh - I think this is yours. Arthur, right?” You couldn’t help but pray that he didn’t think you were trying to be nosy. You almost regret saying his name; he hadn’t even told you it yet so one could only assume that you’d figured it out by reading the bag, which rattled slightly as you handed it over to him. “I wasn’t trying to snoop or anything, I just wasn’t sure what it was -” 

“Oh, it’s okay. I didn’t think that you were.” He took the bag from you and smiled; it was such a gentle, albeit a bit unsure, smile that you couldn’t help but mirror as something about it was so incredibly contagious. “And, yeah. Arthur - My name is Arthur.”  

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Arthur!” Your voice wavered ever so slightly, despite your best attempt at keeping it as cheery as you could. It was nice to meet him, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable - though not with him. You really weren’t expecting to speak with anyone else aside from the cashier at the market, and actually having to push yourself to interact with someone on a more personal level wasn’t exactly what you had prepared for. Arthur was kind, from what you could tell, and so you hoped that he wasn’t judging you for how you were probably making the situation much more awkward than it needed to be.

The soft expression on his face seemed to falter ever so slightly, and you realized that the way you had said “...to finally meet you” carried some sort of connotation; it told Arthur that you had already heard about him, and considering how he was spoken about to you it didn’t exactly take a genius to know that Arthur could only assume that what you had heard about him hadn’t been the best.

“Oh, it wasn’t anything,” You tried to dismiss any concern he had as you motioned towards the other apartments down the hallway. “Someone just kinda gave me a run down of everyone else living here - mentioned some names, told me who was around. You were the only one I hadn’t met, yet.” Which was a lie, but Arthur didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to know that you were so socially inept that you had been putting off meeting your damn neighbors, and he especially didn’t need to know how he was spoken about.

Before the conversation could continue any further though, the weight of your purse in your hand reminded you of why you’d even left your apartment in the first place. 

“Hey - I’d love to talk more, but I gotta run. The store’s closing soon, and I gotta pick up a few things. You sure you’re alright?” You took a step backwards towards the elevator, but kept your eyes on Arthur. You really did feel bad about knocking him over, though something told you he wasn’t that unused to that sort of thing.

“I already said that I was, didn’t I?” His voice was soft, his question rhetorical. You couldn’t help but smile, and you took a second to really look at him; even under the hallway’s incredibly unflattering, shabby lighting you could see that he wasn’t bad looking in the slightest, though he did look a bit tired - he looked like he needed a good nap, or three. He was, obviously, older than you were, but if anything it just added to his charm, as did that slightly too small yellow hoodie that he wore over top of his brown button up sweater. He looked soft, if you were being honest with yourself, and softness was something you learned was becoming incredibly scarce in the world. 

“...So I won’t keep you any longer,” 

Wait - had he been talking this entire time? 

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” His voice was tinged with hopefulness, and you found yourself nodding eagerly in response. He didn’t seem to notice how you completely spaced out there for a second, or if he did, he really didn’t seem to care.

“Yeah - of course! I’m right there,” You pointed to your apartment door, “So, yeah, I’ll see you around. Sorry, again, for knocking you over - have a good night!” 

And with a skip in your step, you pivoted around and walked towards the elevator, pressing the call button about four times as you listened to Arthur’s departing footsteps and the rustling of the Rx bag in his hand as he walked in the opposite direction.

In its usual fashion, the elevator took a good minute to open its door, but there was little time to be annoyed as your attention was pulled from it by Arthur’s sudden “Hey!” from down the hallway, and you stuck your head back out into the hall, arm propped against the door to keep it from closing as you looked at him.

“Yeah?”

“You - You have a really nice smile. You should smile more often.” 

Though his voice was a bit uneasy - shy, almost - he sounded so sure in what he was saying that you did little to fend off the smile that bloomed on your face in response.

“I can try to, but only ‘cause you said so.” 

Though you said it with much more panache than you really meant to, you did mean it. If there was one way to get you to do something more often it was complimenting you for it, and something about the fact that it was Arthur who said it gave you butterflies. 

With a quick wave of goodbye you ducked back into the elevator, letting the door slide shut behind you as you tipped your head back and gazed up at the flickering light on the ceiling. Now alone, you let the smile on your face grow as you let Arthur’s words sink in, and you bid him a mental goodnight as the elevator began its rickety descent.

Exiting the elevator and heading out the front door of the building, so long gone from the eighth floor where you previously were that you didn’t see how Arthur lingered in his spot for a moment, eyes fixed on the door of the elevator where you’d disappeared into before he turned and continued down the hallway, the smile you had become so fond of in your short meeting with him settled on his face.

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taglist; 

@tahliamalfoydepp @tsukiakarinobara (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[spaceodd-ty]

Bonnie Gold protective fluff as requested by @billywig-on-baker-street

I really do love Bonnie requests!

——————————————————————————

Having grown up next to the Shelby’s had set you up for a life you never would have seen coming. You were almost totally desensitised to violence and gore, having seen the worst that Small Heath has to offer.

After your father died in the war, your mother hadn’t been much fun to be around. Truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d spoken. You took it upon yourself to spend all your days with your best friend Finn, who was the same age as you.

You’d started following him around on errands he would be doing for his brothers when you were around 11, which eventually led you to seeing some things that turned your world upside down.

Nowadays, at 17, you worked full-time for the Shelby Company Limited. Refusing to sit at a desk all day, you asked that you would do whatever Finn got to do, and eventually Tommy got tired of arguing.

You had prided yourself on being the first ‘proper’ peaky girl. Dressed in your suit and peaked cap like all the boys, however your long, wavy hair draped down your back.

It was around this time you met Bonnie Gold. After the scare at John’s funeral, his family didn’t want to be around Tommy at that moment, Finn included. So there you were stood alongside Arthur and Tommy in Charlie’s yard as you were approached by the Gold boys.

If anyone had asked you now, you couldn’t recall a single thing mentioned in that interaction. You could only focus on Bonnie, and his curious gaze on you. He couldn’t understand what a girl like you would be doing with the Shelby brothers dressed like a gangster.

That was a few months ago now, and you and Bonnie had been secretly meeting up ever since, and things had gotten serious pretty quickly. You walked with a brisk pace as you aimed to surprise Bonnie after he’d finished training. Walking the streets of Birmingham wasn’t much of an issue for you, especially in your attire. It was known you weren’t to be messed with.

But this didn’t stop Bonnie from worrying, he was extremely weary of city folk, especially in this town which he claimed was cursed.

“Y/n?” Bonnie said in a hushed voice as he left the building, he’d barely caught sight of you leaning against the wall waiting for him. “You shouldn’t be out here, it’s already getting dark.” He said in a rushed voice, with a tone that let you know he was tired of having this conversation with you, but you were tired of it as well.

“Bonnie, look at me. Look at who I am. As much as I adore you for seeing me in a different light to everyone else, I’m not someone that needs to be worried about.” You sighed, placing your hands on either side of his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes.

He let out a deep breath. “I know that. I know who you are.” He brought his right hand up to yours as he placed a kiss on your palm. “It’s just this place... it unsettles me.”

You sighed, with a soft smile. You couldn’t believe how much this sweet boy cared for you. Once you’d put on the peaked cap for the first time you’d thought this was off limits for you, that no man would love you, no man would want to marry such a brute woman. But Bonnie didn’t see you that way, he was the only man in the city that didn’t fear you.

“I know, I’m sorry... I just wanted to surprise you. How was your training?” You spoke slowly as you changed the subject, hoping he wouldn’t think you were rushing to avoid it.

“Good. Same as always, though I’m getting stronger.” He grabbed your hands to hold them in his own and brought them to his lips. “Soon enough I’ll be travelling the world fighting, and we’ll get away from this terrible place.”

You sighed. You weren’t so confident that Tommy would just let you two run away together, though it was a nice thought. “I don’t know Bon.. things are different now, you wear a cap. Tommy won’t just let us go.” You whispered, as if you worried someone would hear that you actually wanted to leave Birmingham.

A small smile graced his lips. “He will if I win him a lot of money.” You chuckled as he pulled you closer, kissing you on the forehead, you turned up your head to meet his lips.

As you pulled away, a serious look took over Bonnie’s face. “Tommy Shelby can’t touch us, love. He won’t touch you. Once you’re a Gold, we’ll travel the world on our own, we’ll go to the country, and no man will ever point a gun at you again.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you couldn’t help but smile at his determination, despite your doubts. “I hope you’re right.” You whispered with a shaky voice. He pulled his arms tight around you and held you close.

You closed your eyes and tried to picture the world that he so badly wanted to show you. You could only hope that once you were married Tommy would see that this wasn’t your life anymore, but only time would tell.

[charlie-and-yoshi-rp-hell]

Episode 48: Recovery

The two halves are finally back together. Now the boys need some time to relax and renew their bond.

(PS: Sorry for being inactive for almost a year now. Life got in the way and I was busy finishing my Bachelor´s degree, and had to fight off depression. I´ll try to upload a bit more frequently. A huuuge thank you goes out to the followers who are still here. <3 )

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Yoshi Raven: Of course the ghost tried attacking him but it was over in a few seconds. Arthur watched them fuse back together, he heard their screams but he didn´t dare getting closer - he might end fused with Lewis and he wasn´t sure if that´d be healthy.

But when he was one person again and dropped on the floor, Arthur rushed to him and sat down next to him, a worried look on his face. He sensed that there was just one end to their connection and not two - the spell had worked.

He looked at Vivi, smiling happily. "Thank you so much, Viv. Thank you."

Arthur looked back at Lewis, gently touching the locket and sending some energy.

"... Lew? Can you hear me?"

Charlie McCarthey: Upon further inspection, Lewis' ghost form was breathing. After about 6 breaths or so, that slowed and stopped. After that, the anchor responded, pulsing orange wearily as if responding to Art's question.

"He's going to need rest after this, Arthur." Mystery commented softly, walking up to Lewis' other side and nudging his hand a little with his nose. Lewis grunted tiredly and rolled over onto his side, still lying on the ground.

Yeah...m'up.

Yoshi Raven: "I know, Mystery. I can see that." he mumbled and gently hugged Lewis.

"Welcome back, cotton candy. I missed you. Come on, you´ll go sleep now." Arthur whispered while helping him get up on his feet.

"Are you okay? How do you feel, Lew?" he asked, hugging him again. Yes, he had enjoyed having two of him but just one now was even better. Much, much better.

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis stood on shaky legs, shaking his skull until his fiery pomadour flickered back into shape.

"I'm okay... dizzy. A little confused."

"That's a common side effect, the book says." Vivi assured, and Lewis nodded absently, finally seeming to notice Arthur's skinny arms wrapped around him.

"Hey.... are you okay?" He asked, the events of the previous hour catching up to him. Lewis immediately started to look guilty.

Yoshi Raven: "... yeah, I guess. I´m glad you´re back together. Now, let´s move you in the bed, you need to rest. We can talk later."

Arthur gently pulled him to the bed and made him sit down, then walked back to Vivi and hugged her, not saying anything. He also petted Mystery´s head.

"Thanks, you two. I´ll make a nice breakfast tomorrow but I guess we all need some rest now."

Charlie McCarthey: "Of course, Artie." Vivi pecked him on the cheek, and did the same to the still exhausted looking ghost. Lew grunted sleepily, and leaned back on his palms.

"You don't sound okay." Lewis muttered as he shifted into his human guise. It was worth the power it took. He felt a little better when he looked... human.

"Art. I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

Yoshi Raven: The mechanic got back to Lewis and before he could finish his apology, he just kissed him.

"I know, Lewis. I know." Arthur mumbled, sounding tired. He leaned against him, enjoying the warmth of his body. Yes, it was his Lewis for real.

"It wasn´t your fault. I was too selfish, we should´ve reversed the spell earlier. But... I liked having two of you. It was new and interesting but I risked everyone´s safety. I knew ghosts are possessive of the one they love but you still have your... let´s say human conscience that keeps you from doing bad things. Your ghost half didn´t have this anymore. So please, don´t blame yourself. I´m the one who should apologize."

Charlie McCarthey: "Artie, no. Hey, you're allowed to want things, buddy. You didn't know the ghost side would go downhill that badly and that fast, huh? No one could have been prepared for that." Lewis soothed, pulling Arthur into his arms.

"You weren't selfish, maybe poor judgement but we were sort of keeping you busy." He chuckled.

Yoshi Raven: That last statement made him blush slightly and he leaned against him.

"Let´s say all of us were idiots. We don´t need a discussion right now. I´m tired, and you need sleep too." Arthur grinned and poked Lewis, then moved out of his hug and lied down on the bed.

"Come on, I want my single heatpad back" he purred, patting on the matress next to him.

Charlie McCarthey: "Agreed." Lewis smiled, lying down next to Arthur. He folded himself carefully and curled an arm around the mechanic's waist.

"Your heating pad is right here." He assured, the anchor pulsed warmly.

Yoshi Raven: He moved as close as possible, snuggling against him.

"Don´t you dare getting up before I wake up. Got it?" he asked, putting the sheet over them and kissing Lewis again, grinning.

Charlie McCarthey: That was all the coaxing Lewis needed.

"I won't." He soothed, eyes crinkling in amusement as Arthur wiggled down under the sheets more.

He curled around Arthur's smaller body and it felt like he lost awareness the second his head hit the pillow. For a long, long time, Lewis body stayed 'off' and he simply focused on healing.

Yoshi Raven: Arthur was sleeping for a long time, too. Now that there was more room for him, he could finally move around in his sleep again without hitting against another body.

He woke up very slowly the next day, looking at Lewis. When he turned around, there was no one else, no second Lewis. Good. He looked back at Lewis and touched his cheek gently, caressing there. If he was still too tired, he wouldn´t wake up but if he was fine, well. Arthur let him choose and still showed some affection.

Charlie McCarthey: For once, Lewis was the late riser. He was pretty much out of it for a soild hour or so after Art woke up, and spent this time lying on his side, still and quiet and wrapped around Arthur. Eventually though, his body started forcing itself back to 'awake' mode, and the ghost's eyelids flickered. He buried his nose in the pillow and groaned, tightening his hold on what he presumed to be Arthur.

That took...more out of him than expected. He needed to get training with Mystery, and soon.

Yoshi Raven: He didn´t do much more and let him rest but as soon as Lewis started waking up, Arthur placed small kisses all over his face. "Hey... Lew, sleepyhead. Come on, get up. You can´t get all the rest you need at once ~ " he whispered but when there was no reaction, Arthur wiggled out of his hold and sat down on him. "I´ll stay here until you get me down, cotton candy."

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis pitched a snort over his shoulder and calmly raised an arm. His palm met Art's waist and with out a word he pushed him off his body and--gently, mind you--onto the mattress. And off Art toppled into a pillow limbs and pillows.

But Lew lifted his head to see this, grinning at his other half.

"Mighta worked if you weighed more, buddy." He suggested breezily as he rolled onto his back and stretched.

Yoshi Raven: "Eh, next time I´m gonna put the van in here and onto you" he giggled, "And yes, believe me I´ll make it work."

He shoved the pillows away and sat up, looking at him a bit worried.

"How do you feel? Better? Still tired? Any aftereffects of the spells?" Arthur asked, tousling his hair a bit. He wondered if the behaviour of the "evil" ghost half would affect him for some time - he hoped not, though.

Charlie McCarthey: "Well, a little bit of a headache. I think that's from the joining. Two minds and all, you know. But, no side effect, I don't think?" Lewis frowned, giving himself a mental once over. "Yeah, I think I'm alright." He smiled warmly to reassure Artie, pulling him over his lap to kiss him good morning.

"C'mon. Want breakfast?" Oh Lew. Still determined to take care of others first. Especially when it comes to food.

Yoshi Raven: Arthur sighed, glad that he wasn´t suffering more than a headache. This would fade away. But then he wasn´t thinking about his own health and he had to give Lewis a warning glare. "I do want breakfast but I´m gonna make it. You be a good ghost and sit in the kitchen without helping. Got it?"

He moved from his lap and to the door, waving at him to follow.

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis grumbled, but it was a lighthearted one. He got up and trotted after Arthur like a puppy, snapping his fingers for his deadbeats.

"Well at least let them give ya a hand." He said, the nest of purple bodies cooing and trilling as they swarmed their master, clearly relieved there were only one of him now. They had been confused of to obey, and had taken to hiding the past few days.

Yoshi Raven: "Of course I´ll let them help. I have missed these cuties." Arthur petted every Deadbeats head when he was surrounded by their tiny warm bodies. He entered the kitchen and gave them tasks to do while he started making pancakes. Of course he made sure Lewis was sitting on a chair and not secretly wandering and helping.

"By the way, I haven´t seen our 'cat' for a long time.... Gear? Come here boy!" he called, looking for the two coloured small ghost.

Charlie McCarthey: "I think he was hiding out with the rest of them--yep, here he comes."

Gear glanced at Lewis warily, but upon deciding this was in fact the one and only Lewis there was, chirruped and beelined for Arthur.

Lewis sighed. "I don't blame him for being skittish of me... my memories of a ghost aren't exactly friendly ones." He muttered guiltily.

Yoshi Raven: Arthur let Gear land on his shoulder and petted him gently.

"Well I don´t know what your ghost half did when he wasn´t close to me, but I can imagine. But as I said, it wasn´t your fault. A ghost that´s just focused on... owning someone would hate every creature that was disturbing him."

He started baking the pancakes and had to stop Gear from stealing the finished ones.

"You know... it wasn´t the possessive behaviour that scared me. It was that the ghost half wasn´t listening to what I wanted anymore. Well, and that he tried taking over against my will. I know that you would never do that, and that´s why I´m calm. I know I can trust you and I´m sure Gear and the others will notice you´re back to being nice." Arthur smiled at Lewis, giving Gear a smaller pancake.

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis was quiet for a while, watching his whole world stand there cooking and feeding bits of pancake to the orange deadbeat. It... really made him happy. So, so happy, to be a part of the world still and to be allowed to exist with Arthur. He reached out mentally, that strong magenta aura curling protective tendrils of power around the smaller, chipped orange one on the other end of the bond.

His gaze was warm and soft as he observed the two, and though ghosts can't cry, his eyes still looked watery.

"Yeah. Yeah, you can trust me Art." He stood, feeling the urge to close the distance so he could hug Arthur from behind and bury his face in the crook of Arthur's neck, nuzzling him basically.

"I promise. I'm yours." Saying I love you, while useful, meant less than this statement.

To a ghost, there was no better way to say you loved someone than by promising yourself--and all the power that came with you.

Yoshi Raven: Arthur sensed the warm, protecting blanket around his soul and it made him smile. This was what he was used to. A gently, warm soul on the other end of their connection.

"I´m yours too, Lewis."

He placed the finished pancakes on three plates and let the deadbeats move them on the table so he could hug the ghost. Arthur put his arms around him, face buried in his chest and staying like this. After all the wild nights, both of them needed a lot of hugs, kisses and affection.

Charlie McCarthey: Their relationship was built on so much more than just sex--even if the sex was damn good. This stuff--the hugging and kissing and just general cuddlin--was super important too, especially to the ghost who needed the stable connection to keep himself... human. Arthur kept him sane, kept him protective and needed.

He hugged his other half tight, giving a little laugh at the way Artie burrowed against him.

"Comfy, there?" He joked happily, rubbing Arthur's shoulder with a hand in an absentminded manner.

Yoshi Raven: "Yep. If I wasn´t hungry, I´d stay like this for the next few hours." he giggled and looked up at the tall ghost.

"Besides, the smell of the food will soon bring our two other dorks in here and we better get out of their way. I don´t need foot prints all over me."

Arthur slowly let go of him and sat down on his chair.

"Soo, what are we gonna do if there´s no mission for us? Do you have ideas or plans?" he asked while taking the first bite.

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis laughed at Art's comment about the chowhounds.

Sitting down at the table, he made sure Arthur got plenty of food for himself while Gear wiggled into Arthur's lap and looked cute for scraps.

"Hmm, if we don't have a case... you wanna go flying again?" He asked with a tiny grin, his amused look saying he knew what the answer was going to be.

------------------------------

(Previous) - (Next)

[thefloorisbalaclava]

All That Really Belongs to Us Is Time - Arthur Morgan x Belle Kennedy - Chapter 3

A/N: This chapter is from Arthur’s POV. I think it’s important to see how and what he thinks of Belle! Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

That woman, Belle, had shocked him to say the least. She appeared to have never lived nomadically but easily adjusted. Not to mention that she seemingly appeared out of thin air. What would a woman like her be doing out in the wilderness unless she was running from something...or someone?

Arthur cleaned his hands then splashed his face with water, sending a chill through him with how cold it was. He stared in the direction of her cabin wondering if he should go and check on her. She didn't seem to need much checking up on but he couldn't seem to help himself. He was drawn to her in a way he couldn't explain. Before he knew it, he found himself in front of her door. Knock knock. There was no answer and his heart immediately began to beat faster. Why was he so worried about a woman he had only just met the night before?

He knocked again and after waiting a few moments, he opened the door just a crack. He saw her curled up in front of the fire...in his coat. Her dress hung nearby and her boots sat off to the side of the fireplace. That meant…

He tried his best not to look. He really did. It looked like she still had her stockings on and he was sure she wore her shift. Please let her be wearing more than just stockings and his coat. He walked over slowly to make sure she was okay. She must have fallen asleep after there little adventure this morning. He tilted his head and looked at her curiously. “Who are you?” he whispered to her sleeping form.

Belle shifted and Arthur froze wondering if she would be offended if she woke up and saw him standing there but she only mumbled and turned over. Some of her curls fell into her face and he felt the urge to wrap a strand around his finger. He shook his head and turned to the door when she began to cry out. He couldn't make out what she was saying but she started to thrash and he didn't want her to get hurt. Without thinking, he grabbed her gently and shook her awake. 

“No!” she shouted once more before opening her big brown eyes and focusing on him. “No.” Her small hands were wrapped around his wrists and she wouldn't let go. “I want to go home,” she cried. “Please.”

“I know,” Arthur said comfortingly. “I'll get you there.” He patted her shoulder awkwardly. She sat up and wiped her face, looking at him. “I came to check on you.”

“You have impeccable timing, sir.” She reached up and tried her best to smooth down her hair. “I must look a damn mess,” she said, embarrassed. Arthur thought that he hadn't seen someone quite so attractive in a long while.

“You look fine but you shouldn't be sleepin’ on the floor. You got a bed right over there.” He stood and helped her up noticing how perfectly her small hands fit in his large ones.

“I didn't mean to. I'm just so tired.” She walked to the window and looked out at the snow. Arthur nearly chuckled at the fact that his coat reached her ankles. Suddenly, he sneezed and she turned to him. “Bless you. You're not getting sick, are you?”

He wasn't sure what he was expecting to happen when she walked over to him but it sure wasn't for her to touch him. She reached up and placed a hand on his forehead then moved down to his cheek. He felt like closing his eyes, like leaning into her touch. That one small touch, those small hands, had lit a fire in him. It may have been snowing out but he felt as though the sun had been shining down on him on a summer’s day.

“You don't feel like you have a fever but you better take care. You need to take this coat back.” She went to take it off and he turned his back to her quickly.

“You ain't gotta give it to me just yet.” He swallowed hard and she snorted behind him.

“I'm not naked you know. Here.”

“Just...leave it there. I'll get it myself.” He heard her scoff and sigh behind him before the cot creaked and she gave him the okay.

“I'm decent now, Mr. Morgan.” He turned slowly and she waved with a giggle. “I appreciate you being so...coy.”

“I'm bein’ proper, Miss Belle.” He still found himself eyeing her form under the blanket. “You sure you don't want to keep this?” He held his coat up to her and she nodded.

“I'm sure one of the ladies can find me something.”

“All right, well, the food'll be ready soon. Should I bring it here to you?”

“Arthur...you don't have to take care of me the way you are.” She played with her fingers.

“You sayin’ you can take care of yourself?” he asked.

“No, it's just that…you're doing so much for me and I have no way of paying you back. I don't want you to feel that you're responsible for me.”

“But I am, ain't I? I'm the one that found you.” He grimaced at the way that came out. “Not sayin’ that you're some kinda property or anything…”

“I know what you mean but still...I just feel like a burden, a lost child.” Arthur took a good look at her. She did look pretty young but he couldn't place her age. “I'm 30,” she said as if she could read his mind.

“30? The years have been better to you than anyone else I know.” She certainly had to be well off wherever she came from. She was probably used to baths every day and perfumes and never had to worry about where her next meal would come from. But why was she running?

“What are you thinking about me? That I can't possibly be 30? Or is it that I look too delicate to be out here with all of you?”

“I'm thinkin’ I never heard anyone talk quite like you but also that there's more to you than your delicate nature. You obviously can shoot and hunt and that only makes me more curious.” Arthur had never been drawn to someone this way. He had never been able to talk to someone so easily. Maybe he just loved to hear her speak.

“Well, if we're talking about our ‘nature’, Mr. Morgan, you don't seem like much of an outlaw to me.” She sat up and the blanket fell to her waist. Look away, you goddamn fool.

He found something interesting to look at out the window. “No offense, Miss Belle, but we only just met and you don't know about the things I done...and will do.”

“Fair enough but...I like you. You've been nothing but kind to me and I appreciate that.”

“You may just be the first person to ever describe me as kind. Thank you.” He tipped his hat and met her eyes again. She looked upon him with care and admiration, something he wasn't used to. How much longer would she look at him that way before she saw him for what he truly was? Why did he care so much?

“I've read a lot about the Old West, the Wild Wild West, and I've always found it intriguing. We were just starting an exhibit at the museum about this era…” She clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “I meant to say I've read about cowboys and outlaws in the papers. My parents always spoke pretty badly about you all but I secretly may have been rooting for some of you,” she whispered.

“Is that where you read about us? In the papers?” She nodded and picked at some lint on the blanket. “And you ain't afraid?”

“No, well, maybe a little but none of you have tried to hurt me and you took me in without hesitation. You're not all that bad.” She spoke so sincerely that Arthur wanted to believe that deep down he could have been a good man.

“I should...get back out there. See if the food is ready.” 

“Okay. Bye Arthur.” 

He walked to the door but really didn't want to leave. There was so much he wanted to say. Before he could reach for the doorknob, there was a knock on the door and he looked at Belle and shrugged. When he opened it, he immediately wished he hadn't.

“Oh...hello Arthur,” Micah said trying his best to look past him into the shack.

“What the hell do you want?” Arthur asked moving his large frame into Micah's view.

“I thought I'd come see how our new member was doin’ but it seems like you beat me to it.” He winked at Arthur and he had to stop himself from punching Micah square in the nose.

“She's fine but I have a feelin’ she won't be if you go near her.”

Micah put his hands up and smirked. “Calm down there, cowpoke, I know she belongs to you. If you ever feel up to sharin’ just let me know.”

“Get the hell outta here before I hurt you,” Arthur growled.

“I don't think Dutch would like that...but I'll go. I can always come see her another time.” He slapped Arthur on the shoulder before walking away.

“That guy gives me the heebie-jeebies,” Belle said from across the room.

“The what now?”

“He...I just don't get a good feeling from that guy. I want him to stay far away from me.” 

“Don't worry, Miss Belle, I'll make sure he does.” He tipped his hat and left her to rest. He made sure he kept a weathered eye on Micah.

[blindersbeach]

right place right time

wc: 1786 blurb: after a breakup, the reader randomly finds Michael and he comforts her. requested: If you’re taking requests, could you do one with Michael where you work for the shelby’s and he’s secretly in love with and all the boys know and tease him about it. He finds you one night drunk and emotional after a heartbreak and he comforts you and makes you realise he’s all you really need. - anonymous

“Stop it! She is coming!” Michael whisper–yelled at Isaiah, John, and Arthur. Finn couldn’t stop laughing. They were gathered around his desk. You walked down towards Tommy’s office with paperwork in your hands. You looked over your shoulder to see what was going on with all of them because you thought that it was quite odd seeing them all quiet and huddled together. As long as you can remember the Peaky Blinders were never a quiet bunch. Michael waved at you with a crooked smile and you returned it back with a gentle one. You entered Tommy’s office to give him some paperwork.

“Oi! Michael, just ask her out.” Isaiah had said after you weren’t in hearing distance.

“She has a boyfriend. That stupid prick Wallace.”

“Someone is jealous.” John chimed in. Michael’s cheeks were tinted pink. The bunch started to laugh again when Michael walked away from them.

You got blasted at the Garrison. Shot after shot, glass after glass. You were dancing on the tables, singing at the top of your lungs. Some of the regulars joined you. Harry laughed mindlessly at your shenanigans. You also kept saying that you could beat anyone at the pub in a fight, but everyone knew that you could never hurt a fly. For the most part, you were having fun. There was not one worry streaming through you body. The night was ending and dawn’s colors would be rising in a few hours. Tears were now streaming down your cheeks and the fun was over. All you could think about was the dinner before you had. You actually didn’t have any because your now ex-boyfriend, Wallace dumped you and you walked out. You were together for a little less than a year and it hit you hard. With Wallace it was different, but not in a weird way. He was always jealous and way too overprotective. He was always telling you to quit working for the Shelby’s and forcing you to leave work early. You agreed and walked away. Ironically you had wanted to break up with him first and you were just trying to find the right time. Polly had always told you to break up with Wallace and date one of her nephews, but specifically her son. Wallace was always afraid of her and your friends.

“Dear, we’re closing. I would keep it open for you because you’re like family to the Shelby’s, but I can’t serve you anymore alcohol.” Harry said sliding in the seat next to you. All the chairs were stacked on top of their tables. You looked around as saw that the pub was completely empty other than you, Harry, and the barmaid.

“Sorry Harry, I hadn’t noticed the time.” Your glass was empty and you felt around for your purse, not realizing that you didn’t bring one to begin with.

“It’s on the house.” Harry said getting up from the seat and cleaning off the table.

You left the Garrison and started to wander the streets of Small Heath. The streets were empty and quiet. The only sounds were the shoes hitting the cobblestone and your soft sniffles. Tears were still streaming down and your vision was blurry. It didn’t help that it was also in the middle of the night and the street lights weren’t bright. Someone started to call your name. Due to your intoxication, you couldn’t quite recognize the voice or the figure.

“What are you doing out so late?” It was Michael. As he came closer he noticed your tear stained cheeks and red eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Why are you out so late? It’s almost…” You said looking at your wrist where a watch should be, but wasn’t. Michael softly chuckled. He was completely sober and could tell that you weren’t.

“I went to take a break from doing some work at home. I was back there now.”

“So, that’s where I was going.” You tapped your finger to your chin.

Michael was confused, but still went along with it. He had never seen you out so late or in the state you were in. You began to walk in the direction of Michael’s, but stumbled. He caught you and helped you walk the rest of the way there. Your arm was wrapped around his broad shoulders as his arm was laced around your waist. You liked it there, you felt warm and safe. You started to think about Michael, maybe you had always had feelings for him. He was sweet and quite caring. Not to mention very attractive. You were already walking to your house, which means you were subconsciously thinking about him. You were always glancing at him while at work and Polly always teased you. She has blatantly said on multiple occasions that she wanted you to date her son.

“What did you say?” Michael said as he jiggled his key into the door, unlocking it.

“I said that I think I am in lo–” You caught yourself before confessing your feelings drunk, even if they’ve been there for a long time. “I’m completely wasted. Don’t listen to me, Mickey.” Michael loved when you called him that. No one ever had a nickname for him. He didn’t like how ‘Mike’ sounded. He thought it sounded too ‘tough-guy’ and that he got into too many bar fights, which were untrue about him.

Michael helped you inside and sat you on the chair. The fire was low, but still lit the room warmly. Michael took off his coat and shoes and went to his desk. You could feel something crawling up your throat. Searching for the nearest trash bin, you couldn’t find one. You ran to the bathroom and vomited in the toilet. Michael heard this and ran to your side. He held your hair back as it happened. The smell was horrible and you flushed it instantly. You still sat hunched over the toilet. Michael rubbed your back up and down. It eased your body.

“How much did you have to drink?” Michael chuckled.

“Too much. Sorry, I didn’t want to ruin your living room.” You lifted your head, but it fell again as you vomited again. You sat there for a few moments waiting to make sure everything was out of your system. You felt much better as you sat up. “Thank you, Wallace never comforted me like you have.” You rubbed your head. You hadn’t looked up, but Michael’s face was in confusion.

“Wallace never comforted you like this? Why do you speak of him in the past tense?” Michael said still rubbing your back. You flushed the toilet for the last time and tucked some loose hair behind your ear.

“Polly didn’t tell you? We broke up. She ran out the Garrison with the biggest smile on her face when I told her. I thought she came here.” You sat back waiting for the feeling of fatigue and lightheadedness to fade away.

“Why would she come tell me?” Michael said, he was lying. He knew exactly why she would go tell him. Polly knew how madly in love he was with you. She did come over to his apartment, but didn’t say anything other than, “You’ll be surprised tomorrow.” Michael didn’t really think anything of it.

You started to stand up and lean against Michael. You went to the sink and did your best to get the vomit mixed alcohol taste out of your mouth.

“Because she thinks that we should be together. More than your cousins. She never liked Wallace.”

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but no one liked Wallace. We only pretended because he seemed to make you happy.” Michael said and you both started to chuckle. It warmed your heart to think that they cared enough to pretend to like the man you were dating.

“He was SCARED of you guys. Why do you think I was leaving work early or sometimes I wouldn’t be with you and your family?” You said as Michael helped you to his bed. He figured that you might as well stay the night since it was so late. He also wanted to take care of you as much as he could. Michael enjoyed being there for you.

“Do you want to change? You sorta got some on your dress…” He tried to be serious, but couldn’t hold in his laugh. He turned around to search for something for you to wear. He handed the white cotton button up shirt to you. There was an awkward silence between the two of you. “Oh, right, sorry…” Michael said nervously scratched his head as he walked out of the room for you to change.

The shirt hit you just above the knee. You cuffed the sleeves because they were ridiculously long.  You piled your clothes in the corner and climbed into Michael’s bed. His warm, heavy blankets engulfed you. You shivered as you got deeper into the bed. Michael knocked on the door. He popped his head in slightly to make sure you were clothed. He entered with a glass and a bucket.

“These are for you.” He handed you the water and put the bucket by the bed. You took a few sips before placing it on the bedside table. You both laid on your backs with only a couple of inches in between each other. You could feel the back of his hand against yours. Michael could feel the sensation and badly wanted to intertwine his in yours. He wanted you to be his, even if it was for one night. Your index finger was slightly bumped into his on purpose. He brushed his fingers more against yours. You started to interlock your fingers with him. Michael hesitated for a moment and then reached for your hand fully locking yours with his. You rubbed the top of his thumb with yours.

Polly walked into Michael’s house. The fire was out. His desk was a mess. She found a pair of shoes that definitely didn’t belong to Michael. She carefully wandered around the house, hopefully not finding a naked woman in his bedroom. Peering through the door with one eye open, she found a bucket on the floor and the clothes beside it that looked awfully familiar. She thought that it was quite odd, but so was her son and the rest of her family. Polly opened both eyes and continued her gaze upward and found you and Michael sleeping in the same bed. Your head was rested on his chest as he had an arm around you. You were still holding hands. With the biggest grin possible, she closed the door behind her as she walked out.