#maybe I’ll try drawing something similar again to see if I can do better.

[electronicgalah]

Woo hoo! I’ve finally done some fanart of skyward! :D This didn’t really turn out the way I wanted, but I’ll post it anyway because yes.

[kupidachillea]

More Achilles headcannons? :(

oof! Well I’ll try my best. Keep in mind these are head canons and not accurate but either inspired by certain things I noticed about said character. That character being Achilles. Now on to the the actual post:

This is just a silly idea, but I’d like to think Achilles can sing. He obviously doesn’t do it much, but I feel like since he does play the lyre; he’d most definitely sing. I’m also tying this in to his nereidian roots (though it’s not really confirmed or anything that nereids can sing well).

He’d probably sing when he’s alone or with someone he’s comfortable with or around. He’s voice would probably sound lovely and hypnotic (I feel like I’m glazing him atm😭). I also feel like if he was in present day he’d still play the lyre or gravitate to the guitar.

Another thought I have is that he probably likes wearing less clothes especially at home? He probably likes to just be in shirts or trousers with not shirt or a robe or something similar. Maybe thin material like chiffon? I can imagine him in a chiffon robe. It’d probably be seen as ‘feminine’ but he doesn’t give a damn. It’s probably better than seeing him walk around stark naked (which he might do occasionally.)

But touching on the ‘feminine’ thing- I know he’s described as handsome and all. But I do think, me personally, he would have a few androgynous features and qualities. Mainly in his face. I mean- to be fair he was dressed up as a woman and seemed to not have been caught (besides Odysseus). So in shorty- war criminal/hero (whatever) that can look both masculine and feminine.

Another body head canon- his eyes aren’t like humans even though I draw them typically green or hazel- I think they’d act like cat eyes(?), again- this is mostly inspired by his ‘lion-heart’ epithet and also his nereidian heritage. So he can focus his eyes into slits and all that and I think that also emphasises his dangerous nature and murderous tendencies.

This head canon is a bit iffy but I see most people debating if Achilles had red or blonde hair- hear me out- what if he was blonde (ish) but used henna to dye his hair red because he liked the fiery colour?(this is why I described him with fiery blonde and my I draw him like that). I got the idea from a tik tok I watched of this young woman dying her hair red with henna.

[captain-mj]

Are we gonna get a part four for love potion pretty please I‘m eating drywall right now

Of course!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Soap went into the woods that night with Ghost to search for the beast. Well, that’s why Ghost invited him. He was collecting some of the ingredients for Roach. And then he did it the next night. And the next. Eventually, it had been two full cycles of the moon. 

Ghost had become slightly more lax around him. Not much, but if his armor exposed some of his skin or he just didn’t know what to say, he let Soap know. He joked with Soap. Soap was pretty sure he smiled at him. He swore he heard it in his voice. 

Right now, Ghost casually took off his mask. This far away from his beloveds, his eyes were normal. His hair had been cut a bit shorter since they had last talked. Soap wanted to draw him. Or kiss his freckles. Or both. “Hungry?” 

If he had less of a filter, he would’ve said yes, for him. The time together did not do him any favors. Instead of finding flaws with him, something to convince him that his crush is stupid. All it did was make him want him more and more. Sometimes all he wanted was to press his face against Ghost’s neck. 

If he was honest, with all of his spare time being used for Roach as well, he had a similar feeling. He wanted to press against him, kiss him breathless.

It was a good thing neither wanted him as it would impossible to ever choose. 

Soap nodded. “I could eat.” He pulled his bag out and sat down to lean against a tree. He expected Ghost to pick a different tree to sit at but instead, he sat right next to Soap, thighs almost pressed together. “We do this for how long, sir? Won’t Lord Roba miss you?”

“He’s found his time with me.” Ghost sighed. “Always does.” He stole a piece of the goat cheese Soap had and popped it in his mouth. 

Soap watched him, fascinated with how his teeth chewed through things. He took a piece of the fruit Ghost had and ate it quietly. 

Memories faded. That was part of the passage of time. But that night had been sealed into his brain. Ghost in the throes of pleasure, head tilted back, mouth open. Soap knew he could do better than them. With no spell, he was sure he could do better by Ghost. 

Maybe it was a bit of a wicked thought.. Especially with what he knew Ghost went through. But God that did not help his feelings for him. He wanted to kiss him desperately. To touch him. Run his fingers through his hair. Press against him. 

“Finds time?”

“In the morning. Today he decided to get my time before I left.” 

Soap glanced at him, biting his jealous back. Now that he pointed it out, Soap could see the bites right at the edge of his collar. “Hmm. And when do you sleep?”

Ghost laughed. “I don’t sleep.”

“Elf thing?”

“Ghost thing. Never slept well. Especially not now a days.” Ghost closed his eyes. 

“Did they do something that hurts?”

Ghost paused and glanced at him. “Why do you care?”

“I want to know if you’re hurt.” Soap answered honestly. 

He seemed to accept that answer as he nodded and looked away again. “Some cuts on my thighs. I can move just fine. My fault?”

“How was it your fault?”

Ghost finished his food and sighed. He glanced at him. “Haven’t found the thing yet. They’re punishing me until I find it.” 

Soap nodded. “We’ll find it.” Or he’d die trying. He hated the idea of Ghost being punished for the crime of not being able to track a creature that might not even exist. 

Ghost sighed. “I hope we don’t. I can take it. It’s just a creature following it’s nature. Doesn’t deserve to die for that. I’m used to being hurt.”

“You joked about eating it.”

“I’ll make the most of it if we do. I won’t hesitate to kill it. But… I don’t want to. I stopped wanting to hurt anyone a long time ago.” Ghost smiled and closed his eyes. 

Soap swallowed and chose to sit in silence with that. He looked at him, wanting to kiss him. 

Simon looked at him. Soap could feel the difference. Something changed from one second to another. “Johnny.”

“Simon, do you think if we were miles away, things would be different?”

“What do you mean?”

“If we were somewhere else, miles removed from everything, what would you do?” 

Ghost thought about it for a minute. “I’d go home to Roba and Pilar as soon as I could.” 

Soap felt his heart break. “Ah. I see. Let’s keep going.” 

Ghost nodded and got up, pulling his mask back on. 

The two of them ventured further out and Soap looked for the last two ingredients on his list. Something from Ghost and foxgloves. They had something to do with deception and the breaking of it. 

Soap had no clue how he was going to get something from Ghost. He did tell Ghost he was looking for foxglove. When asked why he’d need foxglove, he fumbled before just awkwardly explaining they were his favorite.

Ghost had stared at him for a minute before they continued through the night. As the moon started to set, Soap realized it was another night without the plant he needed and another day where Ghost would be punished for not finding this fucking thing. 

Soap sighed as they circled the entire town. “Guess we’ll have to call it a night, Simon.” He turned around and paused. 

Ghost had a bundle of foxglove out. “Here. I passed some earlier.” 

Soap swallowed and took it slowly. “Thank you.” 

Ghost nodded and left him alone there. Soap looked at the flowers in his hand and swallowed thickly. His hand came up slowly to touch the buds. 

It took him a long time to walk away from that spot as his head spun. But eventually he did. He went straight to Roach. 

Roach who beamed when he saw him. Roach who always let him stay longer than he needed to. 

Roach who took the foxglove and noticed an important detail. 

Ghost had used his handkerchief to hold the stems together. 

“Everything I need.”

[jack-kellys]

For the bad things happen bingo: Jack + bridal carry?

oh well hey there stranger. it was very much my instinct to have jack be carried but im actually so strong and didn't (quite) cave. also i made this a treat for u

available bingo squares here, ao3 series here! there r also some details in my ao3 tags/notes that make a few things about jack more objective.

Jack doesn’t like his new job, but he’s used to being good at things–adapting to things, maybe–that he doesn’t quite enjoy. 

Selling papers hadn’t been his life’s goal or anything, but he needed people to look out for him and a roof so he got damn good at it all. Same goes for these ridiculous cartoons for Pulitzer: Jack keeps his head down, his trap shut, and his pencil busy. By now he’s learned that making a bunch of very similar drafts is the way to go, so the old men upstairs can mull and hum and mutter about which reads the best when they all read the damn same. 

What is great about this newer gig is Katherine. Without it he’s not sure he’d see nearly as much of her as he’d like, and there’s so many doors to nothing and cramped little hiding places for them to giggle and tease and kiss in when they take a break from work. And since Jack isn’t technically granted any breaks, all Katherine needs to do is talk down to his boss with a cold glare and the whole matter is solved. And more importantly, they can go back to locking lips. The best days are when Davey comes by before the evening edition comes out after school, and the three of them share a cigarette. Katherine’s started to look at Davey the way Jack knows he has been for a while now, and he’s not sure what it means, but it makes butterflies reawaken in his stomach again. 

What’s not great about the gig is observing Katherine’s work life. 

Since the strike, she’s not needing to type up just one article anymore- by now it’s three, and when the Sun’s offices close for the day she ventures over to the World because she has a key and uses the typewriters there. Her father never stops her. And Jack sees her, because, you know, his rules for himself could also be stricter, but he’s used to that schedule. Up at dawn and asleep after he collapses has been his life, never hers. Jack watches her try to adjust- she’s always shooting him an upbeat smile, usually excited to be writing–and writing and writing and writing–when it’s something that interests her, but Jack doesn’t think he’ll get used to seeing circles under her amber eyes anytime soon. 

It’s November now, late in it, the time of year where there’s already a dent in supplies at the lodge that makes Jack sweat since it’s harder to steal in the winter. Jack’s at his drawing desk early this morning, wanting to have some time between when he gets out and the evening edition to try and hit up a few shops for medicines they’re running low on. Blink’s got a nasty cough right now, and the boy’s trying to puff out his chest about it, but Jack knows the truth. 

He heads up the stairs for a quick smoke break after a few hours, and catches Katherine coming in the front door from the cold in a hurry.

“Hey,” he says, greeting her just inside the main door. “You’re here early, what’s the deal at the-”

Jack observes her, and Katherine must read his mind. She sighs, shaking her head. 

“Jack, I’m okay. Rough morning,” she excuses. There’s no way a rough morning can excuse the redness surrounding her nose, the bags underneath her eyes so obvious they nearly look purple, which pops against how pale her skin looks. “And it’s cold out, too, so-”

“You catch Blink’s cold?” he asks. A middle ground, since whatever is going on with her looks worse than a cough. 

“Maybe,” Katherine agrees, which means she’s got to be feeling worse than a cold. “I’ll take it easier today if it makes you feel better.”

“It’ll make you feel better.”

Jack glances down, feeling her fingers against his own. Katherine threads her hand into his, before lifting up, dawn-pink lips pressing a small, cold kiss to his dark knuckles. 

“Go draw, Mr. Kelly,” she says to him, taking her hand away. “I’ll see you at three.”

Three is too long, and Jack can feel the time ticking by in the back of his mind, each hour making his palms itch worse. It’s not easy for him to get up and away–and especially into other parts of the huge building–without Katherine, so if she doesn’t make sure to come down and visit him he can’t really go up and see her. 

He practically rockets into motion the moment the clock strikes three, shuffling his drafts into his portfolio and shoving it into his desk, tugging his coat on, hiking his bag over his shoulder, then stands-

-up too fast. He wobbles, gripping the back of his chair and blinking his sudden spinning vision straight. Jack takes a breath, and finally exits the room, glaring at his boots. He hates whenever Mush’s hypothesis is proven a little right- Jack’s got something weird with his blood, wrong with the iron in his body. It gets him jumpy in the winter, gets him worried about everyone and the cold. 

Glancing around the hall, he sneaks up the stairs to where Katherine prefers to work- Bryan Denton’s office, who’s been out on assignments after shifting from the Sun for two months now and taught Kath a lot of what she knows. Jack knocks, before pushing open the door. 

“Oh, Kathy,” he sighs, smiling slightly. Her head’s tucked on the typewriter’s keys as if it were a pillow, arms rested under her chin as her chest rises and falls evenly. Jack’s sort of glad she fell asleep- doing all this work for hours on end in her condition hadn’t been Katherine’s best idea. 

Jack crosses over to her, drawing a hand through her hair. He pauses.

The ends of her wavy fringe his sweaty, he notices. Jack swipes his hand over her forehead.

Hot- burning hot. And her hands are cold when one of his own closes around them.

“Kath. Katherine,” Jack says, and says again. He shakes her shoulder gently. “Katherine, come on. Wake up, sweetheart.”

Slowly, her eyes flutter open with a small moan. Katherine’s eyebrows scrunch, confused- probably wondering why the first thing she’s seeing is an ‘f’ key. 

“Did I…? Jack?” she mumbles, lifting her head. Her face turns to his, and she pouts, blinking sluggishly. “Oh, I didn’t go down to you, did I. I’m sorry.” 

“That’s alright,” he reassures, two hands on her shoulders now. “Day’s over, yeah? Lemme get you- I’m gonna take you to the lodge for now. So you can rest some more.” 

She shakes her head, expression pinched.

“Not necessary,” she insists, carefully standing up. “Everyone falls asleep at their desk, right? Right. One time- one…”

She sways suddenly, but catches herself just as Jack’s muscles go taut. 

“One time.. thing,” she manages. She takes a step, and her dull eyes flutter, and Jack’s taut muscles send him surging forward as she falls sideways, only six inches or so from the side of her head slamming into the wall. Jack catches her, thank god, her form crashing heavily into his outreached arms. He hefts her up shakily, her temple finding his shoulder to rest on while his arms curl around her back and under her knees. 

“Kath?” he tries. “Katherine. Katherine.” 

She doesn’t wake, expression lax save for the strained twitch of her brow. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, because he’s alone, with his unconscious partner, in an office that isn’t his and in a building that doesn’t like letting him inside. And Kath’s not waking up. Jack’s heart starts to pound louder, it feels like- sounds like.

Stairs. Stairs. He needs the stairs. 

Jack rushes to them, doing his best not to jostle Kath as he starts downward. He needs to mind his footsteps- Katherine is practically his height, and her dress could easily cause both of them to go sprawling. 

He makes it down, trying not to breathe too hard, and shoves with his back out the front door.

“Jack? -Kath?”

Jack’s head swings to the right, and Davey’s there. 

“What happened?” the boy rushes out, striding over to Jack. “I was waiting for you two, they wouldn’t let me- is she alright? What-”

Jack lets Davey touch her forehead, watches him recoil and his eyebrows shoot up, before he traces her cheek gently.

“She’s sick. Came in and worked a whole day anyway,” Jack mutters. The November breeze makes Katherine shiver suddenly, but she still doesn’t wake, only looks more pained. Jack bites his lip.

“Hold her for a moment?” he asks Davey.

“What?” Davey splutters, eyes going huge. “Jack I can’t- I dunno if-”

Jack sets her in the taller boy’s arms anyway, and quickly sheds his coat. “Knew you were strong enough, Dee.”

“Whatever,” Davey mutters, narrowing his eyes at Jack, who sets his coat over Katherine. “Jack, you need that.”

“I ain’t sick,” he says, and carefully takes her back into his grasp.

“You’ll get sick. Or, you’ll-”

Jack starts walking. He’s fine. His nose is already chilled to the bone, but he’ll manage. He hears Davey quickly keep up, and they walk in strained silence for a while.

“You know, it’s my textbook on anatomy I had Mush borrow,” Davey murmurs. “And I read a good amount of it.”

“Good for you,” Jack mutters, though his body tenses up more than it already is as another gust of wind blows through. 

“It ain’t good for you to be out and cold like this,” Davey continues, and Jack keeps his gaze pointedly forward. “You’re already losing color and it’s only been ten minutes-”

“Dave,” Jack interjects, gazing down at Katherine. His coat’s helped, maybe, but she still shivers and burns and shakes in his arms and he wishes he could somehow grip her even closer. “I’m worried about her, alright? Lemme- just lemme hold her.”

Davey goes quiet for a moment. Before too long, Jack feels the boy’s arm come around his waist, rubbing his back, warming him.

“Okay,” Davey says softly. “Okay, Jack.”

They make it to the lodge, and the front door of it is all Jack can focus on. He lets Davey open it, and he heads in with her, going up the stairs, away from the colder first floor. He sets her in Racer’s lower bunk, since that’s always a safe bet. Pulls the covers up. 

Now what. 

There’re other things he should do, he knows that, but his brain can’t seem to connect the dots, the red string of his thought process being held limply with no direction. 

The hand on his back returns, and his name’s being said.

“-ck, you should get some rest too,” Davey’s saying. “You listening?”

“Always,” is Jack’s smart reply. “Yeah, I- well, I gotta run down to Mush first if he’s around, let ‘im know what’s going on.”

“Well, I can do that,” Davey brushes off. Then, he takes Jack’s hands, finding his wrists and cupping his palms around them. “You need to warm up, and rest, Jack, you just carried Katherine for a mile.”

“Yeah but I-” Jack shakes his head slightly. His shoulders hike as he fights a sudden shiver, slipping out of Davey’s hands as the red string finally lands around a thought. “I gotta grab some extra blankets, too.” 

“Jack-”

He stands up, gripping the bottom of the top bunk to steady himself, blinking a few times. Fine. He’s fine. He’s going- he was going to get… something. 

The red string suddenly slips away, and his head aches, his chest clenches, and he’s really, really cold. His vision flits between darkness and wood bunks as his eyelids flutter. Stronger arms than he thought he knew slip under his own right as he feels he’s about to sink, though, and his face lands against a warm chest. He yawns, lightheaded, brain feeling separate from the rest of his body.

“Breathe,” Davey’s saying, urgently. “Jack. Jackie, can you hear me? Just breathe, in slowly, out slowly.” 

Jack’s trying to focus, but he’s not totally sure why he can’t, and his knees want to buckle. Davey’s strong, holding him up like this. Jack doesn’t feel like he’s holding anything. 

He feels his eyes close, which makes the breathing easier but the focusing harder. Davey’s holding him close, safe. He’s tracing the side of Jack’s head soothingly with a finger in the space between his braids, and Jack lets himself yawn again, though this time his brain feels less like it’s suffocating than it did a minute ago. 

“You gonna let me find Mush?” Davey says softly, but Jack can picture the ‘I was right’ smirk that’s probably residing on the boy’s pink lips. Jack simply nods into his chest. He lets Davey sit him on the bunk, still leaned into the other until he feels Davey shift him- trying to lay him down. Jack thinks he falls asleep before the boy even can- he remembers Davey’s chest as his resting spot, not the pillow beside Katherine. 

He wakes groggily a couple hours later, his suspenders and dress shirt missing. His shoes are off, too, and there’s wavy, auburn hair tickling his nose and someone’s back he’s tucked into. Just barely, he raises his head, opening his eyes just enough. 

Katherine’s awake, thank god, attire loosened. Jack’s arm is rested over her hip, but she’s petting someone’s hair, looking down at someone the way she looks at Jack. His head raises higher.

Davey’s fast asleep sitting half on the floor, face pillowed by his arm on the bunk mattress and hair being delicately combed through by Katherine’s fingers. Suddenly she pauses, and glances behind her. Jack meets her gaze, and she looks exhausted, but she gives him a tired smile. Jack tries to return it despite the fog going through his brain. 

“Go back to sleep, Jackie,” she whispers, so gently it nearly convinces his eyes to shut then and there. “You’re off duty, alright?” 

“How long’s he been asleep?” he asks her anyway. He leans over her a little, arm slipping away from her waist to find Davey’s cheek to caress. 

“Maybe an hour,” she provides. “Adorable, hm?”

Jack hums his agreement, but feels his head bob downward, despite his desire to ask Katherine how she feels. Jack wraps himself closer around her middle, nuzzling his face between her shoulder blades. The hand that isn’t resting against Davey’s cheek finds Jack’s hand over her stomach, their fingers threading together. All three connected, like one snaking string. He smiles to himself. 

“Sleep, Jack,” Kath says again over her shoulder. He listens. 

[joy-haver]

What I learned from being sick.

When one thing goes wrong, it’s more likely that another will go wrong. But also, when you start to improve something, itll probably get easier to improve other things.

Everything is everything. Take small steps and big ones. prevent harm where you can. Cause and effect form loops that feedback and build more of what is already built.

This is the best thing and the worst thing. When you are in a position where things are going downhill so hard, it feel’s impossible to ever go up again. And that’s okay, it may be impossible. But what’s almost definitely possible is to slow it down. Remove as many factors from the loop as possible. Those that can’t be removed should be diminished.

What you will find is that you suddenly have all these small, positive feedback loops. Maybe youre eating in a way that makes you feel better, and that gives you more energy to cook, so you can eat a little better again and for a little cheaper. And maybe you are riding your bike a little more, which builds strength and makes injuries less common in your legs, and also means you can ride to pick up your own meds, making it less likely for you to get them late.

These small things add up. But more than that, they continually open up new opportunities for improvement that weren’t there before. This part of it is particularly important, because it means even the little things, the things that don’t amount to much on there own, don’t have to just be valued on their own merit. They are part of a greater push towards positive looping. They are integral steps that make up the whole.

But still, it’s not about “getting there”. There is no place to get too. You can’t go into this stuff hoping to be abled again. As much as possible, I’d advise avoiding specific goals. I really wanted to play guitar again and be able to draw. Those goals made me not see the possibilities of dobro and watercolor, which filled similar needs in my life, but we’re much more achievable with my hand issues.

It is good to know what needs aren’t being filled in your life, and to try and find the most accessible ways to fill them. We all need food, exercise, water, art, joy, time among plants, novelty, community, and deep trusting relationships. A big part of what disability is is not being able to get these needs met in the ways you want to or in ways that are best for you. This sucks. But sometimes, things are out of your control.

In AA, one asks for “The serenity accept the things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

With my disabilities, the courage to change what I can hasn’t been the primary limiter. The main issue I’ve had has been being too close minded on how something can change. I keep imagining narrower possibilities than what exists in reality. And that makes sense. None of us can see the whole of what’s possible at any moment. But that is where open mindedness and novelty can really open up a whole new world of recovery.

because recovery isn’t “I’ll be how I was before.”

It’s not “I’ll be the way I want to be” either.

Recovery is the process of learning how to fill your time. Recovery is the process of learning how to meet your needs. It’s about learning what options are available to you, and letting those lead to more options.

In doing this, start by doing whatever will be the most helpful for the least effort. This isn’t an exact science, and there is trial and error involved. For me, this means drinking enough water, eating within 3 hours of waking up, and putting on my back brace the moment my back reaches a certain pain threshold. Those are the easiest things I can do that will help the most. They form a foundation that allows me to do the next easiest, the next most helpful things, like the dishes, and socializing, and art. Those things help me cook more, thing clearer, and maintain my relationships of support with caregivers. All of that lets me exercise more, and build strength, and do laundry. Essentially, learn to apply the ideology of triage to your own disaiblity.

Okay< i don't have a conclusion to this that ties everything on it together, so ill say this

Everything is everything. Do what you can. Don't wait unless you have to.

[dramarising-replacement]

Free art threads.

Made a couple of these in the past, and I'm actually considering just.. not doing them on this site anymore? I actually think I'd be better off doing free art for people on Toyhou.se instead.

Cue the rant.

-------

So I'm sure some of y'all are familiar with the "Creative Corner" in the forums, yeah? You can share random art you've made, ask people how much they'd pay for your art, that sort of thing. Then, you got the free art threads. They can be titled things like "Drawing ur dragons :33" and "bored, draw humans. bye." and you'll also see the same couple users posting in those threads, but I'm not here to name-drop lol.

The ones who I have a problem with are the ones who don't read anything. Like, at all. You could spend thirty minutes crafting a decent looking thread, filled with information (but not TOO much, just enough to answer most people's questions) and highlight the "rules" part of your thread that has specific steps to follow for free art. Wanna know what the majority of the commentors on your thread are gonna do?

"[Insert dragon image] Pls draw :)" or "[Link to a page with over 60+ dragons] choose whatever one you want.]" and that's about it. There won't be any mention of any steps you wanted them to follow, (The steps are usually very simple, too. As in, let the artist know the bare minimum idea of what you want. I'm talking about expressions here. That's literally all they'd have to do to get some scrumptious free art.) and that feels kinda invalidating, y'know?

I'm not asking the commentors to describe a whole scene for me, I'm just asking them to give me ONE LITTLE IDEA (again, an expression or maybe if they want a bust) and I'll do the rest for them, free of charge. The art that they'd be getting isn't some random disaster of a sketch, nono, it's fully-colored and shaded. It also doesn't look like something that a 5 year old drew. (No shade to people who draw like that, I was stuck like that for years.) Bro, just do a MINIMAL amount of reading and I'll draw your dragon that has an absurd amount of apparel to tje point where it hurts my eyes.

..It doesn't just stop there, either. I've also seen these people never reply to artists who have given them an absolute masterpiece of a drawing, for free. Bro. You serious? I get that some people are inactive, which I'm not bothered by. But the ones who aren't? ...Ehh, I just think you could at least thank the artist before returning to the void with your free art.

The moral of the story is; Do the bare minimum and read what matters in a post, and thank the artists who draw your dragons for free. Especially the ones who could've easily charged you 1kg+ for the work they've done.

If you're socially awkward, then cool. I get that. If you can't afford to pay artists with fictional pixel money, then go ahead and visit the free art threads. I'm not trying to gate-keep them, I literally make these threads. I just don't enjoy having people put zero effort in their requests and then never acknowledge the fact that I drew their dragon for them. Just my thoughts, everyone views things differently and that's okay!

---

Btw, I mentioned Toyhou.se because I've posted on both before, and while there are SOME similarities in the users' behavior, there's also some notable differences, too.

Common flight rising free art thread comment: [doesnt read text and adds dragon image] thanks if you draw.

Common Toyhou.se free art thread comment: [links a character, goes into a VERY in-depth explanation about how said character acts, very passionate too. Usually reads rules, too.] Thanks if you draw. (gotta stay consistent lol)

Obviously there are some differences in the sites which affect how the users act, I get that. One's a literal dragon collecting game and the other one's focused on writing and drawing characters, it's expected that one would read more than the other.

...But again, free art. Not paid, but free. Someone takes time out of their day to draw your dragon. Just give them a simple "thanks" and go on your merry way. That's all you gotta do. Lets them know their effort was appreciated, and shows that you're a nice person. Win-win.

Please man, just read. Did I mention that these threads usually have a maximum of 100 words? I don't usually type this much. But damn, this just irritated me so much.

Well, that's the end of this rant. Like I said, a few people are obviously going to disagree with some/maybe everything I've said, and that's life. This was a disorganized rant, and that's all it's going to be.

[merrivia]

your essays of literary analyses for captive Prince  fascinate me, amuse me, entertain me (in the "wow, this is so cool" sort of way and "maybe I'll read this whole thing again"), educate me, and get me thinking harder about my own reactions to the books.  I believe that I do my own level of analysis as I read, seeing many but far from all of the same things, and stopping as I go to say, "hey, waaaait a minute" or go back and reread relevant passages earlier in the book or in earlier books. but I am very far away from being able to put things together the way you do. 

 I do a few simple things, like collecting multiple examples of something (I did that for showing that Damon is the kind of guy who gets "annoyed" about things that might or might not send the rest of us into a rage), and another too-long one why I thought "I speak your language better than you speak mine sweetheart" comment happened.

… I do have a question. Here it is. How much of the content of your essays are you consciously aware of while you're initially reading,? How much prep do you do for your essays – – outline? A few of your own cliff notes😁? Or or do what I mostly do, to the detriment of my material but not yours, and just start writing?

Oh wow, thank you so much that’s such a huge compliment! I’m always so happy to hear people enjoy the metas/essays I write, genuinely. I would love to read the posts you mentioned you wrote! I’ll hop over to your page and find them after I post this.

So I don’t really do any prep at all! No notes, no outlines, no plans. I’ve re-read the books 4 times solidly in a row, and want to do a 5th soon (I’ve given myself a little bit of a break, so I don’t lessen my love of it through overfamiliarity!). I think at this point my mind just picks up on patterns and starts to weave things together, subconsciously? Something will just occur to me and I’ll get the urge to write about it. I’m a big believer in that coming from the texts; I still find lines or paragraphs in the books so interesting and intriguing and the way Pacat writes…it’s so rich that there are many aspects to explore.

I also really believe in the power of reading around and seeing where that takes you too. Originally my essays were completely just what came from my mind, but I’ve started leaning towards letting other ideas shine their light on the books too. With my latest post, I knew that Damen’s trauma was different to Laurent’s but I also knew that I was no expert in trauma responses and wanted to read more about it, happened to stumble on Tick’s work almost immediately which just felt like such a powerful connection as it draws partly on classical traditions and I started to put the essay together.

I always come from a point of ‘things are more complicated than they seem’ about pretty much anything and I’m always very wary about people that try to oversimplify discourse. A simplistic reading of Damen’s character would say ‘he’s not got emotional complexity, he’s just a horny jock dressed up in Akielon clothing’ and honestly that’s just so reductive and not true but also…boring, and is essentially a discredit to Pacat’s intelligence and skills. Once you start thinking there’s more under the surface here, you can start to plumb the depths.

I do follow a rough introduction/main/conclusion structure as per any essay, which helps? I’m pretty much trained mentally in the English way of writing literary essays so I do it automatically. I hadn’t realised this till you asked but because I really enjoyed the books and don’t really see myself negatively critiquing them, my conclusions reflect the happy ending of the books where I tend to see things positively? So the end point is kind of already in place. I think the points I make follow similar essay style patterns; start more broadly, then narrow down like a funnel or start a little more chronologically and then move forward (like establishing who Damen is first, and his warrior status is going back to how he was raised, then we can use that to inform his initial reactions in CP before following that thread all the way to The Summer Palace). I’m fond of what appears to be a tangent but is actually a loop back, that illuminates (like I talked about violence as an intimate act, having read that in Tick’s work, and how Laurent particularly provokes that from Damen but that led me to realise if you do choose violence over love as a form of intimacy, you are going to have to pay a price for that).

Ideas do reveal themselves through the writing. Once I’d read that warriors could heal and reintegrate through society recognising them (Edward Tick actually performs these “Warrior Welcome Home” ceremonies for combat veterans, as part of a healing process) I thought well Damen had that in Akielos, and then it was like a little lightbulb moment of ‘Ah but by being in Vere, and around Laurent, he’s gone from hero to villain’. And Laurent has suffered the anguish of being vilified and having his character destroyed, and actually doesn’t realise he’s doing the same to Damen (I didn’t put that in, as there’s only so much you can write! Sometimes holding back on your ideas is good too, to keep the essay tighter. Incidentally one day I am going to do more metas on Laurent and his feelings towards Damen but I’m so respectful of his labyrinthine mind that I want to be very certain of my ideas before I do!).

I hope that kind of answered your question! If you ever want to chat about CP stuff you can absolutely dm me, I love talking about the books ✨

[moonxmagix]

A Room Full of Silence

A/N: Hey !! This is not what I usually post so I apologize. I really wanted to write about my feelings of these past few weeks/months. It was such a in the moment story, and was able to get it done in maybe 30 minutes max. Enjoy !

There I sat on the edge of my bed, in the deafening silence of my dimly lit room. It wasn’t clean by any means, clothes scattered, makeup taking up space on my vanity, posters hanging on the wall, some beginning to peel away from aging tape. 

I sighed while taking a bite of the donut that was bought for me at the end of the night. Another date, failed. I spent so much time getting ready and dedicating myself to this one person, ignoring anyone who dared to talk to me. Thinking anything would come from it. 

If they saw your room, that disinterest would only worsen between us I thought to myself. I got up  still in my uncomfortable date clothes tidying up my room. I normally would change as soon as I got home due to my sensory issues but I felt too numb. My body is almost trying to savor the moments of the night. 

Clothes were put away, put in the laundry, makeup was organized neatly in draws, posters hung up with new tape, plants were watered. I felt accomplished in my work, I checked the time to see it hit 1AM. My date clothes were put in the wash while I put on my t-shirt that sported my comfort character and pajama bottoms. 

My comfort character could never hurt me, they’d be perfect for me. Right? I thought to myself. 

I turned the lights off, my fairylights casting a faint glow making it hard but not impossible to see in my room. I took my glasses off and  reached for my phone, no messages or new notifications. I sighed, not even a “Hope you got home safe!” text. 

I went and searched for the content of my favorite character. Giggles filled the room as my infatuation grew deeper. I decided to check my dating apps and swipe. Finding a few men I thought weren’t too bad. 

~

My alarms blared and I hesitantly arose from my coffin. I did nothing but rot there anyway. I went about my morning and decided to check my dating apps. One guy in particular caught my eye, long brown hair, dead sleepy eyes, skinny, almost dead, just my type I thought. We clicked instantly and our energies bounced off perfectly against one another. 

After spending a week talking we decided to meet up at my place for a movie night and some takeout. We matched even better in person, calling me beautiful, telling me how he liked my stretch marks and how they complimented me perfectly. Unable to keep his hands off me for a second, whining when I had to get up even a couple seconds. 

I knew this person was different, there was a special bond between us. He left that night and his smell lingered on my pillows, smiling from the joy of another person's touch. But that feeling soon changed, my lips tightened, my nose burned, and tears welled in my eyes. 

~

The second time we hung out, not even a date which is fine I guess. I’ll make an exception for him. Do I dare bring it up? Oh god no, you don’t wanna seem desperate do you? Let him make the moves. 

There he stood at my door, dressed in sweatpants and a band t-shirt. Similar to something I’d wear, I talked to him about my sensory issues and he understood surprisingly enough and said he related to me. It was such a sigh of relief not having to explain yourself and the way you acted. 

He left again that night, smiling and giggling, smelling, showering, and then crying. At least he told me he had a good night, right?

~

This is the third time he’s coming over! Maybe I’ll dress up a little more, maybe then he’ll ask me. Right? We cuddled, watched movies, talked about the stuff we love and dream about, we laughed until he spoke, “Just so you know, I’m not looking for anything serious,” my face drops. 

The energy shifted and he knew that. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner. We can still do this though with just no strings attached,” he said, trying to sound remorseful. I just nodded, clenching my jaw to stop myself from crying. “Yeah,” is all I could say, choking back tears. 

The rest of the night was tense, not much touching went on. Conversation was dim and held no substance. What did I do wrong? My apartment was clean. My makeup was done up nicely, not too heavy but not too light. Did I say something? Is it because of how I look? 

“It’s getting late, I should go,” he said, his words uncomfortable and awkward. I led him to the door, not even taking him fully out like I would usually do. Not a “goodnight”, not a “I’ll see you again”, not a “I had fun”. Just an odd, uncomfortable smile and wave. 

~

I shut the door and locked it, the sounds of the horror movie we were watching filled the room. The screaming and pleading of the victims were comforting to me this particular night. Is it because they were suffering along with me? 

I sat at the edge of my bed and sighed. Looking at my disheveled room, I didn't think it could get this messy this quick. The dissociation kicked in, there I sat frozen in place for hours. Unable to do anything with myself.

I pushed myself back into bed, clothes remained scattered scarcely along the floor, posters remained un-taped, food scraps and garbage remained on my nightstand, plants remained unwatered. 

But the next one will be different, right?

[dreamwritesimagines]

It’s CMA, taking notes as always:)-

Sorry in advance this is so fucking long. I don’t know if I’ll be allowed to send this all in one ask but we will see lol. This is actually more than I write for some essays. Like you’re going to have to click expand and be like holy shit. Anyway feel free to ignore my rambling shitty literary analysis at the end lolololol.

At least she can recognize that she’s being a hypocrite when it comes to being horny for Ben lmfao

(side note but I love that you write characters with believable flaws that make them more endearing and not less. And that they try to be better but they’re not perfect; that’s so real and I think that it’s a really hard line to walk and most people can’t/don’t. Anyway it’s being in awe of dreams writing hours again, which is all day every day)

The asking an annoying question and then immediately getting mad at herself internally- that’s such a mood lmfao

SHE SAID THAT THEYRE GOING TO STILL BE TOGETHER IN THE AFTERLIFE AODKNSNFBF I know it was a joke but also OMG CLOVER could you be any more obvious/oblivious!???!??!!

Also her complimenting him so heavily and it not being because she wants to kiss his ass but being genuine, and her not thinking that that says anything about her and her character wowkkfnfjrhthhf

Wait if he goes to Italy for the art academy, will she go with him? What about teddy??? I mean hopefully they’re over their codependent-ness by then, esp. since he has Josie and is learning to live with their aunt and uncle and everything, but still!!! Maybe Colin will take him to visit them…. All assuming he does go to the academy Ofc

Okay but does Josie know flowers and/or was she just fucking with clover? Anyway that’s also so relatable cuz I can’t draw for shit either lol

OH MY GOD DID HER PARENTS BREAK HER WRIST?!????!!!??!!!?!!!?!! THATS SO FUCKED UP!!!!!!!! (I mean I know we know that they were bad, but still getting the details makes me want to strangle them. I’m so nervous for when they come to town because I will want to strangle them every single moment of it lol; I already do!)

SHES TOO HORNY TO FOCUS!!!!! Lmfaoooo love that for her

He’s so cute telling her that she’s great at art even though he helped her!! He’s so sweet and I love that he wasn’t willing to let her think badly of herself for one second before doing everything in his power to prove him wrong

THE SEXUAL TENSION IS KILLING ME!!!!!!!!!! (And them too by the looks of it Lmfao)

LMFAO I vaguely remember us talking about Percy buying Anthony and Cherie’s kids ponies in a headcanon for enamored. I love that that trend is popping up again haha

THERES ONLY ONE BED TROPE MY BELOVED (or in this case: there’s actually two beds but they’re CHOOSING to share a bed, which is arguably even better) cuddling/sharing a bed to keep the nightmares away my beloved

Also they’re going from her locking the door on him to sharing a bed AHHHHH I’m so excited for them!!!!

PILLOW WALL MY BELOVED (okay I need to stop calling every single trope my beloved. It’s true but I don’t need to say it. I need a new word lmfao)

Am I sensing some foreshadowing where her heart is going to break and she feels like she’s dying, similar to what happened to cherie??? I hope not, she’s been through enough angst already. Though it would probably be something like he goes to a party to paint and she assumes the worst- the whole acting like she’s being retraumatized all over again even when she’s not.

“When are you free” “whenever you want me too” AIFJNFNDJFNFNDNFB it’s like he’s saying that he’s always free to do things for her and hang out with her and do whatever she needs.

This fic is killing me with the one million ways to say I love you without saying it and I fucking love it so much!!!!!!!!!!! It’s the words of affirmation and the acts of service and gifts and time spent together and listening and every single little thing they do for one another!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AUGH I love them SO much!!!!!!!!!!!!!

They way that he gives her complete control and isn’t condescending about it but genuinely wants her input and for her to decide what’s best. For her to choose what will make her comfortable and not force her to do anything. It’s the way that he suggests things as being optional where she can turn it down or choose how it’s done, and let’s her make her own choices and take control of what happens to her. I don’t know if I’m articulating myself properly but it just gets me so fucking soft and I love it SO much.

It’s the way that he never wants to do something that so much as even makes her uncomfortable, and the way that he does everything in his power to take care of and nurture her. I swear to god I know I’m rambling but I can’t help it; I’m just so in love with them and this story.

I also love that he’s close with his mom, which is such a minor detail that we knew about all the bridgerton siblings, but still- it’s so cute!!

“As my lady wishes” DREAM ARE YOU TRYING TO FUCKING KILL ME BECAUSE CONGRATS ITS WORKING

At least she realizes how fucking domestic they sound- does he?

I love the contrast of this story with enamored. Cherie and Anthony were a huge roller coaster of emotions, not because of anything in particular but because cherie just happens to be a very dramatic person. It’s not that the highs and lows were fabricated, but more so that they were very abrupt and very dramatic.

On the other hand we have Ben and clover, who are not very dramatic at all. The tension comes from them not being dramatic actually- the pining, the slow-burn- whereas there wasn’t as much of a slow-burn in enamored- Anthony and cherie both gave in rather quickly and let themselves be swept away in it, whereas clover is very much hanging on and resisting.

This does say a lot about clover too though because I don’t think that she could handle the dramatic ups and downs of cherie and Anthony’s relationship, nor would she want to. Cherie had a single trauma that affected her entire life, but she still had a mother that loved and took care of her and raised her in a relatively normal manner. Clover on the other hand had a prolonged series of abuse with no reprieve, no safe space, and no safe adult.

The differences in their trauma literally shape who they become- cherie decides to believe in love against all logic because she thinks that love will prevent her from being traumatized again and because she had a parent who loved her, so she knows that that love exists, and clover decides to believe against trust and love at all costs because she can’t afford to be hurt again. She doesn’t see the world as being worth loving or trusting because she’s never received that sort of love; she’s only given it, which has resulted in nothing but pain for her, so she rejects the very idea of it.

Also cherie was reacting from what she knew- her parents’ and subsequently her trauma was a very sudden, very dramatic event. It was if you hurt me once, you’ve lost me forever, and her being taught that really shows in her relationship with Anthony. She shows the dramatic highs and lows, and how she clings on so tightly because it will all be taken away if one wrong move is made, and we see her react that way throughout the story.

Clover is also reacting to what she knows- she believes that people cannot be trusted, that there’s something inherently wrong with them, or with her, that renders her incapable of trusting them. She is also in a constant state of stress because of the nature of her trauma- it was prolonged and constant and she never knew when it was going to go down; she had absolutely no warning. Whereas cherie uses things like Anthony “cheating” as a sign that trauma is imminent, but otherwise functions well as long as that sign is not present, clover never has any sign of when the trauma will arrive; for all she knows, it’s already there and she acts as if it is.

Actually you see this reflected in Anthony too a bit because of the suddenness of his father’s death and the immediate burden it placed upon him especially, whereas Ben didn’t have that pressure and was able to learn to cope more freely and for longer, both of which shaped who they would eventually become, with Anthony being repressed and unable to properly process/handle his emotions and benedict embracing his feelings and being emotionally aware of himself.

You definitely see how they, despite being brothers with the same trauma, had two different trauma responses and how this affects their future relationships. Benedict is able to go slow and care for clover because he’s learned how to care for himself. He’s learned how to listen and embrace whatever she’s feeling without judgement because he does it everyday. Anthony on the other hand can’t go slow- he rushes into things without thinking because he’s terrified that if he waits for even a moment to think about what he’s feeling or going through, that he’ll be too late. It’s his whole thinking irrationally that he’s going to die young thing all over again; he doesn’t have time to embrace his emotions, he is just controlled by them.

This is why cherie and Anthony have such a chaotic relationship- they’re both assuming they’re going to be abandoned/abandon the other, and they treat their relationship that way. It’s very rushed with no control because they feel like they need to savor every moment they have together, and it results in complete and utter chaos- passion at the expense of reason.

On the other hand, Ben and clover also react to their own relationship the way they’ve been taught. She’s slow and cautious so that she can retreat at any moment and protect herself, and he’s slow because he’s not afraid of being abandoned or hurt; he lives and loves with very little regard to himself. He also recognizes that he could ruin everything by rushing in too quickly- he’s smart about it and thinking about each step rationally.

This is really ironic because Anthony is usually considered the stoic, emotionless, and logical brother whereas Ben is usually assumed to be controlled by his emotions, whereas it’s really Anthony who is controlled by his emotions because he lives in fear of them, but benedict is able to control his because he’s embraced them. It’s a really, really fascinating analysis about emotional health- not feeling things is deceptively and significantly worse than actually being able to sit with your emotions and live with them. Repressing emotions only gives the illusion of being in control, when it actually surrenders them and gives them the power to control you.

I really like Ben and clover (in case you couldn’t tell lolololol) because it shows two people who are choosing to be kind despite what the world has thrown at them. With Anthony and cherie, as much as I love them, it felt like a very slippery slope into passion with very little control. There’s something beautiful about Ben and clover choosing to be there for one another. Ben is choosing to be patient and wait for her and take care of her- it’s a very emotionally conscious sort of love, and clover is choosing to keep inching forward despite her fear.

That’s not to say that Anthony and cherie didn’t choose one another- they certainly did, but I’m not entirely convinced that either of them were the only ones for one another. I mean we even see this when clover could have chosen Pierre or someone else at any point and Anthony could’ve chosen sienna or anyone else. They chose one another when they had other options, but they still had other options, whereas I don’t see clover with any other options.

I know Ben has other options, so he’s still choosing clover but not every person in the ton would be patient and willing enough to sit with her to go at her own pace.

I also think it’s almost like gaining the trust of an animal, let’s say a dog. If you gain the trust of one that was raised in a loving home and loves people, then that’s great! That love is super special and deserves cherishing. But you didn’t work for it and it’s not particularly hard for any person in the world to earn the love of that dog if something happens to you.

But if you have a dog that’s been hurt before and doesn’t trust anyone, and you put in the love and patience without rushing it, then you and that dog have a bond for life. Then there is an inherent, earned sense of trust that is fragile at first but also the strongest that could be. That trust is special because not everyone could’ve earned that trust; there’s not the sense that it could’ve been given away at any given moment because it won’t be.

Of course this isn’t a perfect analogy and isn’t to say that there’s anything wrong with an instantly loving dog, just that they’re very different and there’s value in a relationship that takes hard work and is forged over a long period of time.

With Anthony and cherie, their relationship was a sprint. They both acted like any moment could be their last and every step matters. Clover and Ben’s relationship is a marathon- you don’t know how long it will take, but you know that even if you’re tired you can’t give up. Even if you stumble once, that’s not as important as if you keep going. One foot in front of the other, just keep going. When you reach the end of a marathon, in a lot of ways it feels much sweeter because it took longer and more willpower. Even though it hurts more, you end up accomplishing something far greater.

And don’t get me wrong, I love cherie and Anthony, as you very well know. It’s just that I have a soft spot for people who choose to be together. And people who choose to be shelters in storms for those who are hurting.

Okay this is an essay and I don’t even know if tumblr will let me send this all in one ask, and there’s so much more to say but my thumbs are tired and I need to eat LOL.

Sorry this is so long lol, I just get really excited (as you know lol) and I love love love literary analysis when it’s not being done for a class LOL.

Okay love u see u when u answer this in a day or so!!!

CMA MY LOVE!

Omg I’m so ready for this and I’m incredibly excited, I have been thinking of this ask the whole day! ❤️

So first of all, NEVER EVER apologize for this because you know how much I love long asks and analyses! 🥰 You’ve made my whole day with this! ❤️

I’m so gonna fangirl over you btw😍❤️❤️

She can totally recognize that she’s being a hypocrite when it comes to that YES 😂  And that will happen a lot❤️

Aw it is so wonderful to hear that! ❤️ I really try to pay attention to character flaws and make sure to include them and their influence over their behavior and such so it’s such good news for me! 😍 I think character flaws actually make the character more like…real and relatable 😁

Omg you noticed that detail aaaaaa! 😍 She jokes about being together in the afterlife and she doesn’t even realize what it means or how she is getting more comfortable with the idea of being with him 😏

She believes in him wholeheartedly and they will actually have a convo about that in the next chapter!

Oh he wants to get into the art academy in England love, not in Italy 😁 They were just talking about one of the artists that helped build the one in Italy ❤️ But I do think that if he went to the art academy in Italy, Clover would go with him too at least until the end of his time and training there ❤️ But like, they wouldn’t spend the rest of their lives in Italy for sure❤️

Josie has some idea about flowers but Clover is a terrible artist when it comes to drawing/painting lolll😂

The wrist thing… Oh we will learn about that wrist thing 😈

Listen, unresolved sexual tension and yearning will be such an ongoing theme in the following chapters and we will have so much fun with it! 😂

Benedict is always ready to encourage her no matter what she’s insecure about 🥰

The ponyyyy yes! ❤️ I couldn’t use it in the actual chapters of Enamored, so I had to use that one here, it is adorable! ❤️

THERE IS ONLY ONE BED TROPE IS SUCH A GOOD TROPE!😍

There will be much angst going on 😏

one million ways to say I love you without saying it THIS IS SUCH A GOOD WAY TO PUT IT OMG 😍

Exactly! Like, it is incredibly important to Benedict that Clover chooses what is comfortable for her and that she doesn’t feel like she is being forced to do anything she doesn’t want to do ❤️ Unlike many people and couples in the ton, their relationship is totally equal and he will try so hard to make sure Clover sees that ❤️

Benedict has such a good relationship with his whole family and I think soon enough Clover will get so close with his family as well! ❤️

Oh yeah, they sound more and more like a married couple 😂

It is so interesting that you bring this up darling because like, when I was planning this story that contrast was one of the very first things I thought of! ❤️ I try to explore something different in every fic, a different genre or trope or character development but in here one of the first things I decided on was the difference between dynamics❤️

Cherie being a very dramatic person actually set the tone of Enamored in a way, and Clover resisting the idea of love so vehemently and not even realizing the yearning it leads is going to set the tone in GoS ❤️

Oh you’re absolutely right, Clover couldn’t handle the dramatic ups and downs of Cherie and Anthony’s relationship, it would mess her up so badly 💔 In order for her character development to happen, she needs a safe harbor, in a way ❤️ Otherwise she would totally shut down 💔

Their trauma really did shape them! Like, even if Cherie didn’t really have a father growing up, she was still much more privileged than Clover could ever be ❤️ She was very sheltered and coddled and Cassie tried to keep her away from her own trauma of divorce -even though it was impossible to do it completely- Cherie never really witnessed actual heartbreak until she got to London. She believed her parents didn’t love each other so she grew up thinking love was the most important thing in the world, because she had the privilege to do so.

Clover on the other hand was not given that same privilege💔 So she has so many trust issues because of her background, because it’s full of nightmares and trauma 💔

It was if you hurt me once, you’ve lost me forever, and her being taught that really shows in her relationship with Anthony. She shows the dramatic highs and lows, and how she clings on so tightly because it will all be taken away if one wrong move is made, and we see her react that way throughout the story. This is so true!😍

For Cherie, in a way – at least up until a certain point in the story- everything was life or death, she has such a determined way of thinking that she wasn’t really familiar with the “gray” area ❤️ It was yet another thing her parents’ divorce influenced her way of seeing things, especially love and relationships ❤️

clover never has any sign of when the trauma will arrive; for all she knows, it’s already there and she acts as if it is. Yesss because for her it’s always there at the back of her mind! 💔 She basically grew up in survival mode, she had to look out for any and every small change, a difference in one’s tone of voice or even a glance, so she is still very much ready to jump back at the slightest sign of it 💔

Anthony’s trauma response and Benedict’s trauma response are incredibly different than each other and it influenced every single part of their lives, from their personalities to their romantic relationships. That’s also why -from the beginning- Benedict had more chance with Clover than any other person did, he is very observant and he was allowed to figure out his own feelings in everything, he didn’t have to taken on the responsibilities that Anthony did. Benedict was allowed to be himself while Anthony was forced to be the head of the family after their father’s death❤️

This is why cherie and Anthony have such a chaotic relationship- they’re both assuming they’re going to be abandoned/abandon the other, and they treat their relationship that way. It’s very rushed with no control because they feel like they need to savor every moment they have together, and it results in complete and utter chaos- passion at the expense of reason. This is a perfect analysis of their dynamic! 😍

It's so true! Like, Cherie and Anthony had that “rush” throughout their relationship even from the beginning, they were sneaking around, they were keeping things secrets, they were actively looking for unchaperoned moments even if they knew about the consequences and it took them a very long time and a lot of character development to realize that they can actually calm down and control the chaos ❤️

Benedict and Clover’s relationship is the total opposite of it ❤️ While Cherie and Anthony could be incredibly reckless, most of the moments between Benedict and Clover were planned and calm, like Benedict has been incredibly careful to give her that space instead of chaos ❤️

This is really ironic because Anthony is usually considered the stoic, emotionless, and logical brother whereas Ben is usually assumed to be controlled by his emotions, whereas it’s really Anthony who is controlled by his emotions because he lives in fear of them, but benedict is able to control his because he’s embraced them. Definitely!

I think it’s also very interesting because of the dynamics of power and control in both couples. In Cherie and Anthony’s relationship, up until the moment she heard Simon and Anthony in the study, Anthony had been the one in control and he quite liked it, like that was kind of the dynamic between them. It took him the actual danger of losing her forever to learn to let go of that control in their relationship, that was one of the biggest challenges for him in terms of character development❤️

Benedict and Clover on the other hand are very different than that, because up until the moment they got caught, there was not an instance or a time where they were together and Clover wasn’t in control. And she knew it, that was why she was so comfortable to be around him even unchaperoned❤️ Even when their first kiss happened, though Benedict was the one who told her he would kiss her if she didn’t walk away, she was the one who took the first step, she was the one who pulled the cigarette from his lips so that he could kiss her ❤️ Clover has been setting the pace in their relationship from the very beginning, Benedict just makes sure they can talk and spend time together ❤️

Oh yeah, Cherie and Anthony’s romance was very out of control throughout the story, Clover and Benedict on the other hand are moving much more carefully and with so much patience ❤️

They definitely had other options in terms of marriage! But I also think after meeting one another, they would always be in love with each other even if they married other people❤️

I actually don’t think there is anyone in the ton that Clover would have the dynamic and romance she has with Benedict! ❤️ The same for Benedict, I think something would feel missing 😁They are meant for each other and we will see many scenes with it! ❤️

Oh I totally get that analogy, yes! ❤️ And working for that trust creates a very strong bond ❤️

Sprint vs marathon is a wonderful way to put it! ❤️ Anthony and Cherie were very impulsive, and Benedict and Clover are more…like, they’re more in control ❤️ It will take them a very long time to be open with each other -at least on Clover’s part- but it will also make them fall for each other even more ❤️ Especially for Clover, she is not the person to fall for someone that suddenly and willingly like Cherie ❤️ Cherie spent her whole life wishing and waiting for her love story, so when she finally got it she was so happy that she didn’t think about slowing down 😂 Clover on the other hand spent her whole life repeating over and over again how she would never fall in love, so it will be a very different process for her ❤️

DARLING-

I am hugging you virtually, like…. You have no idea how much it means to me that you wrote this, you have made me incredibly happy! 🥰 You are so talented with literary analysis and symbolism and also reading the characters and between the lines! ❤️ This ask gave me so much inspiration and also made me think of the story in very different ways with different perspective 🥰 And I learned a lot about the dynamics of the characters and I’m just like, so excited to use it in the story! 🥰😍❤️

I re-read this the whole day over and over again and I am still in awe of it ❤️  I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND YOU’RE SO AMAZING OMG ❤️

[dragonmasterhiccup]

She shrugged lightly. “I guess, but not like that. I’ve only known you for a little bit, not a long, long time like you’ve all known each other for. And you guys have each other, you don’t really need me… S’ okay though, maybe one day, when I don’t have to go home anymore, I’ll find someone.”

As much as she loved her siblings, they weren’t like that, especially not now, with everyone worried about literally staying alive, they didn’t have too much time to be nice and affectionate towards each other.

“Hm… Y’know, I think I kinda get why them call them ‘Deadly’ Nadders; ‘cause of their spikes n’ teeth, and their claws…” Not wanting to continue thinking about how deadly those dragons were, she quickly got back on track. “But uh, yeah, I’ll draw Stormfly! I hope Astrid will love it as much as you did!”

“I dunno, I think she might say ‘dad’ first, ‘cause she spends so much time with you, and you talk to her, so maybe she knows you better… But, I would feel kind of bad for Astrid if she didn’t say ‘mom’ first, just ‘cause it’s her baby…- N-not like she’s not your baby too! I just… y’know..” Her gaze moved down to the ground and she gave another tiny shrug.

“That’s good…” she muttered, her focus now fixating on the dragon she was soon to be meeting again.

“U-um, I dunno- Hiccup, can I have some water? I don’t, I’m sorry, I’m just scared…”

Taking a few shaky breaths, she continued, “Can, can we go there? Can we be slow too? Please…?”

Trying to lighten things, he said, "You know, the thing about Nadders is, they're surprisingly very bird-like. And Toothless, he has a lot of similar mannerisms to cats. Interesting, isn't it?" He hoped this might help her see them as less of a threat.

Laughing, he nodded. "No, I uh, I get what you're saying. And you're right. If anything, Zephyr's first word should be 'mom', or something that sounds like it."

At her request for water, he quickly retrieved the jug, holding it out to her.

"We can do that. Here, take my hand again, and we'll go as slow as you need us to. You set the pace, I'll be right next to you."

[iveseenstrangerthings]

parked car confessions - a Steve Harrington imagine

summary: another friends to lover imagine, this is similar to my mixed signals imagine that i wrote, and you can read that here! This is a steve x fem!reader using she/her pronouns. Steve misses the usual Friday night movie to go on a date, much to your despair... it’s a bit angsty and fluffy! 

warnings: sweating and mentions of food

word count: exactly 4k 

note: i posted this yesterday but it didn’t show up anywhere??? so i’m trying again, hopefully it works

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

A snaffle at the popcorn box brings your attention away from the film and you turn towards Dustin who’s grabbing a huge handful of the popcorn out of the bag in your hands. “Woah, easy there.” You whisper, trying not to distract the others from the movie. He just twists his face up in retaliation and sticks a finger to his lips, shoving the entire handful of popcorn into his mouth and over-exaggerating his chews. Painstakingly, you hold in a laugh at his expressions and mannerisms, no matter how crappy you feel you rely on Dustin to make you laugh. It’s Friday night and as usual, you’re all huddled together watching a movie of Mike’s choice tonight as you���re all at the Wheeler’s. Honestly, you haven’t been paying attention as tonight Steve bailed, at the last minute, and you’ve felt uneasy ever since. When the others asked why, he wouldn’t divulge and that’s when you started to suspect he was meeting someone, maybe going on a date.

Simply put, you like him. You know the others know after you accidentally confessed to Robin after you’d had a few drinks, and you know she wouldn’t be able to hold off telling the others. In a way though, you don’t mind. Yours and Steve’s relationship was an odd one that everyone just couldn’t understand. There are obvious feelings, on your part, and sometimes on Steve’s, but then he would adamantly deny there was anything there. There have been nights you’ve cried out of sheer frustration at the fact that you feel you’re getting nowhere with him, and all you want to do is be with him.

So, here you’re sat, half watching the film, half worrying about where he is and what he’s getting up to. The inside of your cheek is toying in between your back teeth as you play over different scenarios in your mind. Annoyance rises within you, suddenly starting to feel slightly enraged that you’ve gone for so long being toyed about. Something deep within you makes you want to confront him and tell him how much he’s hurt you.  

Later, as the film seems to be drawing to a close, there’s a quick two knocks on the front door and then it swooshes open, a sudden draft entering the room. You whip your head around and see Steve turning to close the door, starting to kick his shoes off. Unimpressed, you turn back around and pretend like nothing’s happened.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” He says.

Max’s face screws up, “Late? You’ve missed the whole movie.”

Steve places himself down on the floor, just next to where you’re sat on the couch and Dustin gives him a pat on the shoulder, to which Steve turns around and they do some sort of quick hand gesture with each other. The rest of the guys mumble a quick hello, but their attention is mainly on the film. Your eyes shift back to the screen, and you can feel Steve’s gaze on you, only for a second. He finds it odd how you haven’t really acknowledged him, or even said hi. Everyone settles back down to finish the film and when the film finally finishes, the black background casts the room into a sudden darkness, only illuminated by the white credits rolling on. It doesn’t take two minutes before Robin is questioning Steve on his absence.

“So, you gonna share with us what better things you had to do than be here?” She turns in the armchair to face him, her legs lazily draped over the side. “And don’t say work.” Her eyebrow goes up as she looks at him, “Because I’ll know you’re lying.”

Steve shakes his head and looks back at Robin, smirking slightly, “I’ve just been busy, guys.”

Dustin is quick to retort, “Wearing a pretty snazzy jacket there though Steve… what could require such a fashionable, and impressive, outfit choice?”

Your eyes bore into the television, everyone knows fine well he’s been on a date. Steve lets out a long sigh, puffs his cheeks and shrugs, trying not to laugh at the questions being thrown his way. You glance over at Robin who’s looking back at you with a kind-hearted expression, and you just roll your eyes ever so slightly.

“Come on man, who’s been the lucky person to spend tonight in your presence?” Dustin places his hands on the back of his shoulders and slightly shakes him from side to side.

Steve brushes his hands off and holds his palms up, “Alright, alright.” Your stomach drops, even though you knew, it’s going to be different hearing him say it. “It was Katie, we used to have Math together. She came into the store the other day to rent a movie and we got talking and… figured I’d ask her out.” Wow. Your cheeks flush with warmth and if you were alone now, you’d probably shed a little tear and start to feel sorry for yourself. But tears don’t threaten you right now, sheer anger does. Part of you feels that Steve knows your feelings towards him and just doesn’t mention them, but maybe he is just oblivious. “You okay, (y/n)? You’re pretty quiet.”

You lower your gaze to where he’s sat in front of you and feel yourself softening towards him, his eyes are so kind and he really hasn’t got a bad bone in his body, so you feel guilty almost for feeling so angry with him. “Totally.” You reply, “Glad you had a good time.” You offer a smile to him, however you felt you did not want everyone suspecting you were pissed off. That wasn’t the reply Steve was expecting, however. Like a thick blanket, an awkward silence sits atop of everyone, almost feeling like it’s smothering. It becomes uncomfortable and Max soon realises, “I think we should probably get going…” she looks around at everyone else, urging with wide eyes for someone to agree.

You take the hint, “Yeah, it’s getting pretty late.” Pushing the thin blanket from your legs, you stand up and stretch slightly, heading for the door with the others to put your shoes on.

“Thanks for having us!” Lucas calls back to Mike and Nancy who are still sat around the sofas with Robin, El and Steve. The group call out goodbyes and you all head out the door. The kids have their bikes, but you chose to walk tonight, you enjoy the walk as it’s a nice, scenic part of town. The others will find it odd that you didn’t stay, as you usually stay up late into the night with them once the kids have gone, but tonight you couldn’t find it in you to want to make pleasantries with Steve.

Steve sits with a bewildered look on his face after you leave, and he looks around at the others. “Am I missing something? What the hell was up with (y/n)?” Nancy and Robin share a glance and Steve catches onto it, sighing heavily. “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be? Are you sworn to secrecy or some shit? You guys stuck in the sixth grade?”

“Hey, woah.” Robin starts, “Don’t be like that with us, Harrington.” The pair stare at each other a minute. Albeit they work together nearly all the time and spend time outside of work together, the pair very rarely have an argument. The tone in their voices has an edge to it which is very rare to appear in conversations. “Don’t you ever think for a second how you’re making her feel?”

“Making who feel?!”

“Don’t give us that shit, Steve.” Nancy quickly snaps back at him, getting up to start to tidy away the living room. Mike silently slipped away when he realised the conversation was starting to turn sour. Steve places his forehead in his palm and rubs back and forth, as if he’s getting a headache. “Did not expect my night to end like this.” He sighs.

Robin tuts “Oh boohoo.” She stands up, giving Nancy a hand collecting in random bits of popcorn from the carpet. She looks up at him, enjoying the fact her and Nancy are ripping into him a little. “Did you even have a good time with Katie?” She asks, already knowing the answer.

Steve plays the night over in his head. It had been a pleasant time, they’d gone to the movies, he drove her home, nothing significant happened but he just didn’t feel anything for her. He does, however, feel something for you, which he’s been repressing for so long. He just never knew how to approach the situation. “Not particularly.” He shakes his head, starting to feel annoyed at the situation.

Robin sits back down on the sofa, finishing off some rogue bits of popcorn left in the boxes, and she shakes them to release the hardened corn from the sides. “Think you should just go talk to her, to be honest.”

“She’s gone home! It’s too late now.”

Robin shakes her head and tosses a piece of popcorn up and into her mouth, “No, she’s walking dumbass. Go find her, be the Knight in shining armour you so desire to be.”

Something stirs in Steve, a protective urge flares within him, the thought of you walking alone doesn’t sit well with him. He stands and makes his way towards the door, quickly slipping into his trainers. He looks back at Nancy and Robin, both staring back at him with a slightly smug look on their faces.  

The night is a lot colder than you anticipated and your jumper isn’t doing a particularly good job of keeping the cold from seeping in and settling a chill in your bones. You cross your arms across your chest as you become aware of your teeth starting to chatter, you just want to be home. You quicken your pace slightly to try and get home quicker, attempting to put tonight to the back of your mind, but you know that won’t happen. As you turn the corner, headlights illuminate the road in front of you and you can hear the sound of an engine rolling towards you, going too slow to pass you. Your eyes widen and you quicken your pace again, unaware of whose car it is and why they would be travelling so slowly behind you. Different thoughts start racing around your mind before you hear a quick acceleration and before you know it the car is beside you, but you keep your eyes fixed forward. “Hey, do you want a ride home?” Steve. Your pace relaxes now that you know it’s him, but you continue to walk, so he continues to roll steadily alongside you, his eyes darting from you to the road. “Come on, please don’t ignore me.”

“No, I don’t want a ride home.” You reply, an edge to your voice he hasn’t heard before.

The car continues beside you, and you look over to him leaning across so he can shout out the open passenger window to you. “(y/n), please get in so we can talk.”

Your brows furrow, oh so now he wants to talk. “I live around the corner; we won’t have much of a talk by the time you drop me home.”

“Then we can just sit on your drive for a bit.” You shake your head, steadily continuing with your walk. You hear an exasperated sigh float from the car, “I don’t wanna go home knowing we’re not on good terms. Please, come talk to me.” Finally, you stop. Steve silently thanks you and now just hopes you’re going to get in the car. You toy with the idea in your mind, he doesn’t want to go home knowing we’re not on good terms… oh fuck it. You reach over and open the passenger door, closing it with a bit more force than anticipated it makes Steve jump slightly.

“Sorry.” You mumble, knowing he’s precious about his car. “Let’s go then.” You gesture with your hand for him to start driving and he does, the car smoothly starting to roll away.

You ride in silence to your house, which only has the porch house illumined and the rest of your house sits in darkness. He knocks the engine off then turns to face you; your eyes had not moved from the road in front since you got in the car.

He clears his throat, trying to also clear the awkward tension in the car. “Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

Ask and you shall receive. “Why didn’t you just come straight out tonight and say that you’d been on a date?” Your heart starts hammering against your ribcage, “People had to coax it out of you, and you went along with it. You just didn’t need to beat around the bush with saying where you’d been, it was weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yes! Weird. What was the reason you didn’t wanna admit to being on a date? Even though, it was pretty fucking obvious.”

He pauses for a few seconds, “I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

You scoff, “Oh, how considerate. Thank you.” Your hands are becoming more expressive with the more annoyed you get.

He places a hand on the steering wheel and furrows his brows, “Well, yeah, I was trying to be considerate. I didn’t want you to get upset.” You shake your head and twist your face, but then your stomach drops, the only reason he wouldn’t want you to get upset is that he knows how you feel. You soften into the seat a little and let out a big breath, your teeth find the soft flesh of the inside of your cheek again and you begin to chew on it, ever so slightly. “I don’t know why, I guess I was bored and-”

“Please don’t just make up excuses, Steve.” You turn to face him as you cut him off, his face looks tired and stressed, “This is not how I pictured this, at all, but I really like you.” Your voice sounds tired and you pause a second to take in his facial expression which has softened. “I have for such a long time and I’m pretty sure the guys all know, Robin definitely does, but that’s beside the point. We’ve been friends for so long and if that’s all you see us as then that’s fine but, I just get frustrated sometimes.” You pause for a second, letting it sit between the two of you, but Steve says nothing, almost just wanting you to continue talking. He's given you his full attention the whole time, holding onto every word you’ve said. “It seems to me sometimes; you feel the same. But then, you deny it and go on dates with other people. There’s a part of me that always holds a little hope that maybe, for some reason, you’re just holding out at accepting how you really feel.”

Bingo. How are you so good at this?

“Am I wrong, Steve?” You look back at him now, almost in anticipation. He can’t seem to muster up the right thing to say, so just slowly shakes his head. A silence falls over the pair of you and he just lets it stay for a few minutes before speaking again.

“How come you’ve waited all this time to say something?” He asks.

Your eyes search his, “Well, when you deny liking me and then date other people it doesn’t exactly encourage me to share my feelings. I’m just sick of feeling like one day you like me and the next you’re uninterested. I wish you’d just be honest with me.” You pause a second, a thought suddenly making its way into your consciousness. “Wait, how long have you known?”

He thinks for a second, giving it some real consideration. “Um, like three weeks maybe. Robin slipped it into conversation at work.”

“Oh.”

“And I’ve wanted to talk to you about it but then I guess I got a bit annoyed; I don’t know. I asked Katie out to sort of test it and see if how I felt was real. And it was.”

“Hold on, you needed to date someone else, to test yourself?” You sit back against the door holding your hands closed in your lap.

“You’re missing my point! I went on the date, and I didn’t like it, I didn’t enjoy myself. I was thinking of you the whole time, God dammit (y/n). How do you just expect me to know how you feel if you don’t even communicate with me?! I can’t read your mind. I hate that Robin had to tell me how you felt. I wanted to hear it from you.” His hands point in your direction, to accentuate his argument. He has a point, you’d never spoken about it with Steve, you’ve been close to, but then froze and decided against it. The air in the car suddenly feels uncomfortably warm and you crack the door open a little, Steve’s face turning alarmed when he thinks you’re opening it to leave. When he sees you’re staying, he settles. Awkwardly, you look down at your fingers and tug at a tiny piece of hangnail. You’d never really considered how Steve might have felt, and you felt awful for it. Steve’s hand reaches over and gently takes your fingers away from pulling at your skin, he holds your hand there for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry I never spoke to you about how I felt or anything, I just really didn’t know how to put it or whether I’d just get rejected then it would make everything awkward.” You shrug nonchalantly. It feels nice having his hand in yours and you give it a small squeeze.

“I felt like such a dick, coming in late to Mike’s then seeing you sitting there alone.” He shakes his head slightly, almost as if he’s in an argument with himself. “Well, you weren’t ‘alone’, but you know what I mean.” You scrunch your lips up and nod, letting him continue. “I don’t know why the hell I ever asked her.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it Steve, it’s done now it’s happened. I’m just sorry for not talking to you about it.” Your thumbs are gliding over each other, it seems cliché, but you almost can’t believe you finally have his hand in yours.

“Well, now that it’s all out there and we’ve established that… how about we go to that little place you like? The one with the tables outside and the good pizza. Tomorrow?”

Your face screws up and you place the palm of your hand on your forehead, “Shit… I have a date tomorrow. I can’t.” He can tell by your face you’re obviously joking, he raises his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes playfully.

“Oh really? Who’s the lucky guy?” His tongue pokes out slightly as it curls up into his upper lip, eyebrows still raised.

You brush him off with a swish of your hand, “You won’t know him.”

“I bet he’s awfully handsome.” He says, in his best attempt at a posh accent which makes you laugh with him.

You still have his hand in yours and you slowly peel your hand away from his, “It’s getting late I should head in.” You state.

He nods understandingly and rubs his hands over his jeans, “Sure.” He looks towards the porch where the light is still on, wondering if your mom has been watching this whole time, she tended to be nosy.

You follow his gaze and are quick to pick up on what he’s thinking, “They’re out.” You simply state.

He doesn’t really acknowledge this but instead poses a follow up to his previous question, “So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow? Around 6?”

Your head bounces in a wave of nods enthusiastically, a smile painting your face. “Absolutely, that’d be great.” For months now, you’d found yourself daydreaming of him, of this. If your mind was unoccupied for a few moments, you found it automatically filling with ideas of you and him, doing the most mundane of things but somehow the thought brought you such warmth and comfort. Often, you pictured the two of you sharing a kiss. The thoughts bounce around in your mind as you sit across from him now, trailing your eyes from his, down to his lips, then back to his eyes. Your heart accelerates at a steady pace, but enough so that you can feel it quickening. Your throat seems to tighten, and your mouth goes dry with anticipation. Steve looks back at you, he enjoys looking at you and taking in your features. He appreciates your beauty and finds you utterly charming, even when you’re going off on him. He notices your eyes move down to his lips, where he carefully takes his bottom one in between his teeth for a fraction of a second, but enough so that you noticed it.

As soon as Steve did this, it’s as if someone lets a cage of butterflies in your stomach free and they erupt into a turmoil of busy wings and flutters. Your heart continues to pound in your chest at the realisation of what’s building.

“C’mere.” He whispers the word and cups the side of your neck with his hand, resting his thumb gently on your cheek as he pulls you in towards him. The car feels so silent as you allow yourself to gravitate towards him, both closing your eyes as your lips finally meet. You’re pleasantly surprised at how well your lips move at ease with his. He kisses you slowly, drawing them out before kissing you again, tenderly parting your lips by placing his thumb just below your bottom lip, firming his hold on you. Heat rises within you and your hand lays gingerly on his leg, your other hand holding his arm. You really don’t want to, but you pull away to catch your breath. His hand remains on your cheek as you slow your breathing down, not wanting him to see you got overly excited. He pulls you close again to give you a small peck on the lips before removing his hand and sitting back in his seat. Your cheeks feel incredibly flushed, and you know they’re a deep crimson, letting Steve see exactly how you felt about your kiss.

“Was that…” he starts, starting to put his keys back in the ignition, “was that your first kiss?” he asks with interest, he’s hoping it was, that way to him it’s more special.

Just as the crimson was starting to dissipate, it reappears. You know Steve has had multiple kisses, so you feel silly that you have only ever had one, that has only just occurred now. Or maybe he asked because the kiss was so bad, and he could tell you’re a rookie? Oh god…

“Oh, shit was it that bad!?” You ask, covering your mouth with your fingers suddenly feeling awkward.

His eyes widen and he shakes his hands, “No no no, no definitely not. Are you kidding me (y/n), talk about a tease.” His voice lowers, with a subtle tone of seduction, “Best kiss I’ve ever had.”

You roll your eyes and push his leg with your hand, “Shut up, Harrington.” You turn and open the door fully now and step out into the darkness of the evening, thankful that he probably won’t be able to see your flushing cheeks. “Tomorrow at 6, don’t be late.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” He turns the engine on now as you close his door, softly this time, and make your way down to your front door where you fish your keys from your bag. Quickly, you unlock your door and turn around to wave Steve off. Once he sees you in safely, he reverses off your drive and you close your door as you see his taillights trail off in the distance.

[robin-buck1ey]

Do you have any headcanons for autistic Robin?

Yes I do! So fun fact about me first, I’m also autistic, and got my professional diagnosis 4 days before vol 1 came out!! So I was super duper excited to see Robins autistic traits since she was already a favorite of mine (And now ronance is a special interest and hyper fixation so these are implied ronance )

-Part of the reason she loves learning new languages, besides them being a special interest for her, is that she gets to vocal stim on words by repeating them or stretching out certain bits and if anyone questions she can just play it off as practice

-When Robin masks she is much more sarcastic which is why we see her relationship change with Steve in s3 to s4 because they grow much closer and Robin feels safer to be her true self

-Nancy at first didn’t understand why Robin was so uncomfortable in her clothes, but later on she starts to see Robin react to different textures and realizes that Robin is just more sensitive to them and never again forces Robin to wear anything she isn’t comfortable in

-Robin has a big fear of driving since it can easily become overwhelming and doesn’t trust her coordination but Steve and Nancy both understand and are happy to give her rides

-She takes Nancy with her late at night to go sit on the swings at the park, because she loves no one really being out, no one to judge her, Nancy being her favorite person to be around, and they talk about whatever for however long, while also getting that sensory input from the moving swings. She does similar with Steve but instead his pool, she doesn’t ever want to force Nancy to go in the pool so swings are better.

-Robin is a big pasta and overall carb lover. Nancy knows this too. Whenever they go out to eat Robin always orders the same thing, and whenever Robin hasn’t eaten or is sick Nancy knows just what to make for her :)

-Robin isn’t a big fan of meat, she’ll eat it, but she’s picky about what type of meat and she never has much desire to eat it

-Robin likes to organize the movies at Family video, Steve never complains because it’s less work for him to do, and for some reason he can’t figure out, Robin loves doing it

-Steve and Nancy are the ultimate Robin protectors. They love Robin whole heartedly and won’t allow anyone to make Robin feel like she’s worth any less than she is to them

-Robin is normally very touchy and she’s very picky about who she will be touchy with. However when she’s comfortable with someone’s touch she enjoys cuddles and hugs because of the pressure stimulation

-Robin always doodles on stuff whenever she’s trying to be quite or needs some sort of stim to channel her energy into (Nancy let’s robin doodle on her, Steve doesn’t trust Robin not to draw something immature)

-Robin bites and picks at her nails as a stim but it sometimes becomes harmful so whenever Nancy notices Robin doing so she holds her hand to stop her, and rubs her thumb on Robin’s hand for a little before stopping so Robin can do it instead, since Nancy noticed that repetitive movements bring her at ease

-Crazy good memory when it comes to facts or random little details, but not so great when it comes down to a task she’s supposed to remember, like getting something out of the toaster or a direction someone gave her earlier

I’m gonna have to stop myself here otherwise I’ll be going on and on, who knows maybe someone will want more and I’ll make a second post :)

[shotorozu]

encountering a ‘pick me’ girl

character(s) : kirishima eijirou, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

warning : PICK ME GIRL, misogyny (?) pick me girl makes an off handed comment about your body but it’s not detailed at all

PART TWO — PART THREE

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, angst if you squint

note(s) : i made 2 versions of this post so,, if you’re reading this— then i probably decided that i liked this one more than the other one i made,, anyways, i used real life examples 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

kirishima eijirou

i’d imagine that eijirou would have an idea of what a pick me girl is— i mean, there were probably 2 of those girls in middle school

but has he experienced it first hand? nahh.

though, eijirou didn’t think he’d encounter one when he was already in a healthy and committed relationship!

eijirou is practically friends with everyone— and yeah, even the most unexpected. so, he’s bound to accidentally befriend a pick me girl

him, being the nicest one out of all of the characters in this list, will still be nice to said pick me girl, despite wanting to snob them to the core

because really— you can’t really fight fire with fire in some cases

but, he can be everything but lenient when the pick me girl starts insulting you for doing certain things, and for absurd reasons too

like,, how you laugh, and how you take care of yourself (for example— if you wear makeup, or how you style your hair)

which is odd! everything about you is everything but the things the pick me girl has stated so.. he cannot stand by.

SCENARIO

the girl giggles to herself after that snide comment leaves her lip gloss coated lips. eijirou shifts uncomfortably— honestly taken aback by the anything but subtle insult that was thrown at you

“like.. seriously! it’s honestly quite superficial if you look at it like that. who the hell would put that much effort infront of your boyfriend? i’d assume they’d see everything AND everything but.. i guess not.”

you blink. superficial? now that’s a new one. the girl infront of you has been babbling insults sugarcoated in boasts the entire time, and you’re just wondering if it’s about time you guys leave but—

“well that’s unfair,” your boyfriend laughs, “i put the same amount of effort as this cutie right here,” eijirou pokes at your cheek, earning a quick laugh from you— which he can only thank the heavens for that

“but that’s different. it actually looks put together when you’re doing it, eiji.” the certain glint in her smile makes you want to wipe it right off with a dirty mop, “it’s impossible to look put together with expensive clothes, but being built like a—”

the sound of the sliding of a chair is quicker than your actions, and it easily cuts her off.

“i’m sorry, but we gotta go, it’s totally not cool of you to say those things about Y/N!”

“what? but i mean.. it’s true, right? i’m looking out for them! they’re literally out here l—”

“bye!” eijirou waves her goodbye with your hand, dismissing the sour expression on her face— as he dashes off with you

you’d question how he’s just so nice to people like that, but when he turns around, you could see the distaste in his eyes

“so that’s what a pick me girl’s like,” shaking his head, his expression lights up with such a quick manner “i’ll never make friends that are like that again!”

safe to say, eijirou’s friend list has been a a person shorter ever since that incident

bakugou katsuki

oh, so that girl’s bold bold.

if she thinks she could get away with being a not so subtle pick me girl infront of bakugou katsuki, then she couldn’t be more wrong.

it’s absolutely revolting— i mean, he hasn’t displayed any romantic feelings towards ANYONE that isn’t you.

also, they’re quite gutsy if you ask me. so congrats for having guts??

i don’t think he’d be friends with a pick me girl. he’s very selective of who he’s befriending, so it’s probably your friend that’s the pick me girl in this case

he wouldn’t know what a pick me girl would be, but he’d probably know the description of one.

over some time, he’d grow some resistance to insults directed at him, but when someone insults his s/o

oh boy. that’s not good. remember when i said that katsuki was almost like your scary and intimidating dog

this is what i mean

knows he can’t make a scene, so his first option is to be dismissive asf— but if said pick me girl literally can’t get it, he won’t be afraid of shoving some explosions into her face

because his hands are rated e for everyone

SCENARIO

“so you wanna be picked or something, is that it?” he hates how you literally have the resistance of a rock— which is something he always liked, but in this case hated. if it weren’t for you— he would’ve blasted explosions into her sorry excuse of a face until it’s beyond recognition (that wouldn’t be hero like, is what you’ve said in the past, but he disagrees.)

but seriously? ugh. he just wants to leave this horrid place, and make some dinner with you in the comfort of his home. why are you even friends with her anyway? she’s not even trying to be slick at this point.

“p-picked? i’m not understanding, katsu.”

“it’s bakugou.”

“right,” her laughter is like nails on chalkboard, “i’m just watching out for Y/N, y’know? there’s no point in wearing all of that.. on their face.” and she’s obviously referring to your obviously very well done makeup

“it’ll make your skin terrible in the long run! and really— i couldn’t really understand on why someone would wear that much, when you could survive with i dunno.. lip gloss at most?”

you would’ve actually said something as a rebuttal, but your boyfriend is quicker, and a lot more direct than anyone else in the area.

“just say you can’t do makeup and fucking scram,” katsuki’s ice cold glare finally breaks out of the act he’s been trying to hold together for you

“their makeup is fucking bomb as hell, compared to your ridiculous spider lashes, lady. come back when you’ve watched james charles’ entire fucking channel.” he harshly states in similar bakugou fashion, despite the lack of screaming.

and if you squinted hard enough, you could see tears welling up in her eyes. but katsuki tugs your hand before anything else could be said

“let’s fucking go, you need better friends.”

he makes you cut ties with all of them, and he practically scolds your terrible choice of friends— but he goes quiet when you tell him that you’ve been friends with her since middle school

“good fucking riddance. next time, i’ll punch them as soon as they say something outta line, got that?” and next time (hopefully, there won’t be a next time) you’ll actually lash out— or maybe,, you’ll let him loose for once.

todoroki shouto

now shouto might be,, socially unaware sometimes. but he can tell whenever someone’s trying to insult his s/o

like,, right away.

now— you both run into this person after a pleasant date, and she eagerly presented herself as your friend

so, her attitude catches him off guard because who’d have anything rude to say about you and towards shouto’s face? especially when it’s about something normal.

like,, wasn’t she your friend?? why is she even like this?

his hostility is very well known, so they should be scared.

he gets detached from the conversation, and he’ll immediately go cold— and shouto would probably go as far as walking away with your hand in his

doesn’t matter if he properly says goodbye or not— if a girl’s being rude to his s/o, they obviously don’t deserve his usually polite attitude. nope, that’s a luxury.

oh— and what more when they’re seeking for his validation. newsflash! said pick me girl won’t be get any from him.

SCENARIO

shouto couldn’t stop the bitterness bleeding into his mouth, when the girl in front of him continued to babble and take up the valuable time he had left with his s/o

initially, she presented herself as your friend from middle school— but as of now? she seems to be more interested in him more than you, despite knowing you first.

she’d ask him a string of obvious questions with very obvious answers, like ‘is she treating you well?’ ‘is she acting correctly?’ and questions of the sort

“oh, sorry! i’d hate to cut this conversation short, but—” you finally decide that it was about time to leave, while shouto looks pretty,, deadpanned right now, you could tell that he was gradually starting to get irritated by your friend’s words.

“wait. thats.. kind of controlling, don’t you think? do you ever let shou make decisions?”

“uh.. controlling? since when??” you question at the accusation. this girl knows nothing about your relationship dynamic, and she’s already jumping the gun and making conclusions.

your gaze snaps back to shouto, who looks just as surprised as he could possibly be.

“yeah! it clearly looks like he still wants to talk” which is an obvious lie, shouto just wants it out of here “i wonder how you managed to snag such a guy like him,” she comments with a smile that looked anything above suspicion (yet, it makes your stomach churn)

you could see the way her hand gets gradually closer to him— and frankly, you’re not sure about what she was planning to do next, “you wouldn’t need to dress all expensive and fancy, if you’re with a girl with an already classy appear—”

“i think this conversation is over,” shouto grip is firm on the wrist that was attempting to grab his shoulder, shouto makes no attempt to even look at the girl infront of him “i don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not humorous. at all.”

“what?” she stammers, drawing her hand back “i-it’s obvious they don’t know how to take a joke! this is why there are barely any good w—”

shouto’s next actions knocks her speechless, his hand rests at the small of your back, before gently guiding you forward— “love, what movie are we watching later?” he says, making an effort to press a quick, yet intense kiss on your lips

“oh,” you breathe out, surprised by this action. “don’t be so tense, love.” shouto comments on how tense your shoulders have looked, ever since she started running her mouth, “now.. what movie do you want to watch tonight? comedy? thriller?”

“you pick,” you laugh at the quick shift of topic. and when you look behind you, you could see shame and defeat welling up on her face. shouto finally feels like he could smile again, the bitterness dissipating from his mouth

after shouto questions you if that was what a pick me girl was, he makes sure that you guys won’t ever encounter such thing again

“you.. don’t have more friends like that, right? if you do— we could always do another friend list cleansing.” this statement makes you laugh but shouto is anything but joking

but being reminded of his reaction to that ‘pick me’ girl does puts a smile on your face.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin goes home for a little while, determined to enjoy a well-earned vacation;

Camelot immediately falls apart, with the sole exceptions of Guinevere and Gaius.

Merlin knows Arthur really well.

Which just means he knows exactly how to get him to let his servant go home for two weeks to visit his mother and relax a little:

“You just don’t want me to go because you know you can’t cope without me! Look, if you want to come with me, that’s fine, but you’ll struggle just as much there as you would here because I refuse to act as your servant in my own home.”

Arthur turns red, looking outraged as he loses the ability to speak. Merlin turns around before The King can see his satisfied smirk, tidying around the prat’s chambers with exaggerated annoyance as he just waits for the inevitable-

“Fine! Go! See if I even notice that you’re gone! Honestly, Merlin, the running of the Kingdom will probably end up going smoother without you here to mess things up, you bumbling idiot.”

Merlin grins to himself before schooling his face back into annoyance and turning around with a huff, crossing his arms petulantly:

“Fine!”

The servant decides that he’d better leave, what with the way he was struggling to keep the victorious grin from his face, so without waiting for a response, he “storms” from the room, slamming the door behind him as dramatically as he’s able when he hears Arthur yell:

“FINE!”

~

Merlin sets off at the beginning of the next week. Gaius had raised a disapproving eyebrow when his ward had told him how he’d gotten Arthur to agree to such a long vacation, but didn’t say anything. They both knew that the elderly physician thought it was funny.

Gwen and Morgana make sure to see him out of the castle gates with big hugs, and whilst all of the knights were meant to be training, it came as no surprise to anyone when Gwaine slacks off for half a candle-mark to say goodbye as well. Mordred shoots him a quick goodbye across their mental link as the servant walks away from the city, after promising Merlin that he would warn him if anyone was in any serious danger (”Serious danger only, Mordred, I mean it. If I get called home because Arthur is throwing some sort of tantrum, then I’ll act out your destiny for you.”).

Merlin’s journey goes smoothly. The world was hovering in the junction between Spring and Summer, but with a little magical manipulation, the Warlock had no trouble staying warm and keeping his feet beneath him on the uneven path. Unsurprisingly, the young man is a lot less clumsy when he doesn’t have to focus on keeping his magic locked away so tightly.

Two days after his departure from Camelot, his mother is greeting him outside her little house with a long hug and a wide grin, stroking a hand through his hair as she welcomes him home.

Coincidentally, that’s also about the time things started going to shit for everyone else.

~

It was just after noon when Elyan had to be carried to Gaius’ chambers, his whole body juddering as he struggles to draw breath, the lack of oxygen from his throat closing up mixed with the panic making his brain go fuzzy.

Percival holds him up from one side and Leon holds him from the other, the two of them bursting through the physician’s door just as Elyan’s eyes roll back in his head. Gaius looks up suddenly, obviously startled by the abrupt intrusion, but he swiftly focuses, eyes wide and assessing as he quickly points them to a patient pallet:

“What happened?”

The two knights lay him down as carefully as they can before standing out of the way as Leon forces out an answer, trying to catch his breath between words:

“I don’t know, servants brought lunch out whilst we were training so we stopped to eat and he just started... wheezing. We thought he was choking at first but he said he couldn’t breathe. Has... has he been poisoned? We stopped everyone from eating.”

Gaius had gathered a handful of odd looking dried leaves the moment Leon mentioned the food, recognising the symptoms of an allergic reaction and putting two and two together immediately. He crushes them in his hands quickly, knowing he didn’t have time for a proper mortar and pestle as he shoves the crumbs into Elyan’s mouth, following through with a vile of something green and gross-smelling

He massages the odd concoction down Elyan’s throat as best he can around the swelling, and lets out a relieved smile when the knight’s eyes blow wide open and he chokes slightly before swallowing it all, grimacing at the taste but breathing deeply as his airways open again.

Leon and Percival let out similar breathes of relief when Elyan begins breathing again, chuckling breathlessly at his disgusted groan. The door bursts open again before anyone can say anything, and Arthur strides in, his flushed cheeks and rumpled clothes implying he had sprinted across the castle in his panic.

He spots Elyan on the pallet, his deep breaths interspersed with the odd cough, and his eyes widen even further as he looks to Gaius for an explanation:

“A servant told me something was wrong, what happened?!”

The King loses a little of the tension in his shoulders when Elyan waves a thumbs-up in his vague direction, but still looks frantically between the two knights and the physician as he waits for an answer. Percival wordlessly moves to Elyan’s side, running a hand up and down the man’s arm as Leon looks to Gaius expectantly:

“He had an allergic reaction, likely to nuts in the food. He should be fine, but he needs a day or two of rest, and to come back to me immediately if his throat swells again.”

Arthur sags in relief, nodding his approval of Elyan’s needed bedrest, but Leon’s eyes go wide as he lets out a knowing noise:

“Of course! I forgot about his allergy, it hasn’t been an issue since we were kids.”

Gaius nods knowingly and begins reorganising the jars he had knocked over when the knights had startled him:

“Hmm. I imagine he watched what he ate carefully when he was travelling, but Merlin keeps an eye on all of your food now.”

Leon frowns slightly as he tilts his head in confusion, but Arthur beats him to the punch, asking incredulously:

“What do you mean, Merlin keeps an eye on our food?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow, holding in his smirk as he slowly replies:

“Well, Merlin is usually the one to bring food out to you when you train, is he not? And on days he can’t he always speaks with the kitchen staff to double check what food is going where. Sir Elyan is not the only one with an allergy, My Lord. Merlin always makes sure any food the seven of you are given is safe. He has a tendency to check the Lady Morgana’s meals as well, whenever he’s able.”

Arthur is too taken aback to reply, his mouth hanging open, but that is when Percival looks up from his place at Elyan’s side, a confused frown on his face:

“Why?”

Gaius doesn’t manage to hold his smile in at that, looking between the three knights, and Elyan, who has just about managed to regain his breath:

“To avoid situations like this, I imagine, and to check for poison. It’s not uncommon for assassins to try and lace the royal’s food with something or other.”

Arthur finally shuts his mouth, only to open it again, speaking slowly:

“So... Merlin checks all of our food?”

Gaius nods:

“Religiously, Sire.”

Leon and Percival just shrug, adding it to their list of Weird Things About Merlin That They Should Be Grateful For, and Elyan smiles goofily from his place on the bed (whether it was the lack of oxygen or something funky in the vial, the knight didn’t know, but he was definitely still feeling a little... odd), but Arthur just frowns deeper, muttering a distracted “Take it easy.” to Elyan before walking stiffly from the room.

The King makes quick work of the journey back to the council meeting, desperately trying to persuade himself that this was nothing to do with him not being able to cope without Merlin. Elyan was the one not coping, clearly. Merlin was still wrong and stupid and Arthur hadn’t even noticed that he was gone until Gaius brought him up (a lie, he missed him terribly, but shhh).

Leon and Percival look to Gaius in confusion when Arthur had almost stormed from the room, and the Physician simply smiles again, the amusement shining clearly in his eyes:

“Merlin persuaded Arthur to let him take a holiday by heavily implying that he couldn’t cope with Merlin’s absence.”

Percival snorts with laughter and Leon raises an eyebrow as he grins:

“Arthur took that as a challenge then, I suppose? Two days in and we’ve already got The King sprinting from meetings because a knight has collapsed from an allergic reaction... because Merlin wasn’t here...”

Gaius just nods, and Percival mutters an amused:

“This will be entertaining.”

~

Arthur steadfastly refuses to acknowledge that the next mini disaster, a few days later, was also down to Merlin’s absence.

Ok, so maybe it was because Merlin wasn’t here, but ultimately, it was Gwaine that messed up, not Arthur. So it didn’t count.

The knight came back from a night patrol that he’d taken with The King with an infected gash on his arm. Arthur grins teasingly as he describes to Gaius how the knight had tripped on a loose cobblestone and scratched his arm on the sharp edge of a stray cart at the beginning of the patrol, and Gaius hums disapprovingly as he unwraps the scrap of fabric Gwaine had used as a bandage:

“Did you not have any medical supplies in your pack? Or did you think it best to let it get infected so I had to wake an hour before dawn to deal with it?”

Gwaine swings his dangling legs back and forth from where he sits on Gaius’ table, pouting sheepishly as he admits:

“I looked, but there wasn’t anything helpful in there, usually the armoury-hands have them stocked up for the patrols, I guess they missed mine.”

Arthur rolls his eyes at Gwaine’s seeming ineptitude, but his scolding is interrupted before it even begins when Gaius shakes his head in disagreement:

“Hmm. The servants that work in the armoury only tend to check the packs every few weeks, and even then they only check if they need any repairs. Merlin is the one with easier access to patrol rotas, so he’s the one who stocks them up on a day to day basis.”

Gwaine just nods in understanding, as if he should’ve expected that, but Arthur’s smile drops as he unfolds his arms, getting over his annoyed speechlessness in a matter of seconds:

“You’re telling me that Merlin, my personal manservant, is responsible for all the knights’ patrol packs?”

Gaius finishes cleaning Gwaine’s wound, muttering a quiet apology when the knight hisses at the first poke of the needle, speaking slowly as he focuses on making sure the stitches were neat and uniform:

“No, Sire. Technically the knights are meant to take care of their own packs, but Merlin is a paranoid man, he likes to double check things to make sure everyone has what they need. I suppose some people got used to having it done for them.”

Gwaine winces abashedly, making a mental note to remind the others to check their packs before their next patrols, but Arthur rolls his eyes, crossing his arms again and immediately accepting that this little incident was therefore Gwaine’s fault, and not down to Merlin's absence.

The voice in his head sounded a little doubtful, but he ignores it, choosing instead to chide his rebellious:

“Do try to pay attention to your own responsibilities, Sir Gwaine, I’d hate to see something terrible happen to you because you’re unable to complete your own simple tasks.”

Gwaine just sticks his tongue out petulantly, looking away from The King before he can see the blonde’s rolled eyes. Arthur huffs at his childishness, turning around to cover his grin and speaking over his shoulder as he walks from the room:

“You will be on time for once, Gwaine, training starts in a few hours and I want to see you bright and early.”

Gwaine just smirks, waiting for the door to shut behind Arthur before moving his sly, curious eyes to the physician in front of him:

“He’s missing Merlin, then?”

Gaius just gives him a knowing glance before looking back down at the now stitched gash, gathering bandages:

“I’d imagine so, though he’d never admit it. Merlin implied that Arthur wouldn’t cope with his absence,-”

Gwaine interrupts him with a laugh:

“Hence his insistence that it was entirely my fault?”

Gaius nods wordlessly, and Gwaine snorts, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

Meanwhile, Arthur stalks back towards his chambers, eager to get out of his armour and get into bed; Gwaine had training in a few hours, but so did he, and he needed at least a little sleep. He purses his lips in annoyance as his gaze falls upon the clinical cleanliness of his room... George had been in then. 

Look... Arthur being used to a slightly messy room did NOT mean he depended on Merlin. And Gwaine not being used to having to actually organise himself ALSO didn’t mean that Merlin was... ok. Maybe Gwaine relies on Merlin a little.

So that’s Sir Elyan and Sir Gwaine, two of The King’s most trusted knights, who can’t cope without Merlin. But Arthur is doing just fine. It’s been half a week and he is just. Fine.

Just fine.

~

It was the next day that things began going wrong a little more... drastically.

George wakes Arthur up for training on time because of course he does. Arthur had found himself losing out on a lot of sleep without Merlin insisting he go to bed at a reasonable time, and waking him up late; Merlin had gotten into the habit of snatching Arthur’s paperwork away and holding it out of reach until The King agreed to go to sleep, and somehow manages to fit Arthur’s entire morning routine into half a candle-mark. George would never snatch away Arthur’s paperwork, and he takes so much longer in the mornings meaning Arthur has to wake up earlier.

Not that Arthur would ever admit to enjoying his and Merlin’s unorthodox routines. 

Eight more days to go, and he’s fine.

At least... that’s what he thought until a nameless guard approaches the training field, waving him over from his spar with Mordred. Arthur strides over quickly, annoyed at the interruption and nodding at the guard to speak as he drinks from his water-skin:

“My Lord, Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel have arrived. I believe they’re waiting for your presence in the courtyard.”

Arthur chokes, managing to turn his head to the side just in time before he spits a mouthful of water over the guards face. He quickly wipes his mouth and turns back to the pour armoured man with wide eyes:

“That’s today?!

The guard nods hesitatingly:

“Yes, Sire, would you like me-”

He’s interrupted when Arthur shouts a hurried:

“Fuck!” as he drops his water-skin and begins sprinting up the field towards the castle, desperately trying to calculate if he had enough time to wash and change before they got antsy with waiting. Probably not.

Seeing Arthur’s panic and hearing his loud curse, Leon hurriedly approaches the guard, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder as he speaks with a frown:

“Gavin? Is everything alright?”

The guard, Gavin, looks to Leon with a confused frown:

“It would appear that His Majesty... misremembered the date of Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel’s arrival.”

Leon’s eyes go wide and he glances quickly to the castle as he rushes out an exclamation identical to Arthur’s:

“That’s today?!”

Gavin just nods again, and Leon drops the hand from his shoulder, letting out a loud:

“Shit!” as he recreates Arthur’s sprint up to the castle, knowing that he was expected to be at The King’s side when welcoming guests. He doesn’t pause, even when he shouts:

“Lancelot’s in charge!” over his shoulder.

The knights all look to each other in amusement, but Lancelot quickly takes charge, running drills as if he had been doing it his entire life and trusting that, whatever it was, Arthur could get things sorted. And if Arthur couldn’t get things sorted, then Leon would get things sorted. And if Leon couldn’t get things sorted, then Merlin would... oh.

He glances worriedly to the castle just as Leon falls through the door, not bothering to shut it behind him in his panic. Oh.

Arthur lets out the deepest breath of relief he thinks he’s ever experienced when he sees George ahead of him in the corridor; he gestures him over hastily, making the servant jog to keep up with him as he continues his fast pace down the hall:

“I don’t care how many other servants you have to pull from their duties, but I need the castle prepped for Halbert and Ethel’s arrival right now.-”

Arthur barely pays attention to George’s faltering step of shock, just stops suddenly in front of the door that leads down to the courtyard, turning to the servant and putting both hands on his shoulder as he stares at him intensely, face flushed and breathing harsh:

“I need you to do this for me, George. Prepare guest chambers, send someone down to show them to the right rooms, and make sure the Kitchens know they’re feeding two extra nobles for three days, starting today. If you can organise all of that in the next two minutes, I’ll give you a raise and a Godamn hug, you hear me?!”

George gulps, his shoulders tense, his face pale, and his breath frozen in his lungs as he meets Arthur’s frantic gaze with wide eyes. He gives a shaky nod, instantly turning and sprinting down the corridor without a word when Arthur lets go. 

Leon skids around the corner, moving to stand next to Arthur with his hands on his knees as he attempts to catch his breath, speaking in a slight wheeze:

“I... I left Lance... in charge.”

Arthur nods in approval, pulling Leon to stand before holding his hands out to the side, presenting himself for inspection. Leon takes one last deep breath, smoothing the training tunic over Arthur’s shoulders, attempting to rub the dirt from his nose, and brushing a quick hand through his hair before stepping back and holding his own arms out. Arthur pulls a leaf from behind his ear, but is otherwise satisfied, and the two of them turn to the door, schooling their faces and stepping down into the courtyard.

Arthur has a calm, welcoming smile on his face, and Leon stands stiffly behind him, hand on the sword that he luckily had on his hip as he stares blankly ahead.

The nobles seem taken aback at The King's state of undress, but don’t say anything, covering their shock quickly. Arthur’s hoping that his friendly attitude will just give the impression that he’s...approachable and slightly laid back, as opposed to just an idiot who forgot they were coming because no one had reminded him.

Gods. Merlin can never know about this.

~

Thankfully, the next three days went smoothly, or at least as smoothly as possible after Arthur spent an hour rifling through his old mail to try and figure out the original reason for Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel’s visit (watching their eldest’s knighting ceremony, and discussing with Arthur the potential for their youngest to move to the city to become a squire).

He waves them off in a much more regal manner than he had welcomed them, and keeps his promise to George, upping his pay slightly; though he exchanges the hug for an awkward pat on the shoulder, which he thinks both of them were grateful for.

~

He’d successfully made it through nine days. Semi-successfully. He’d just about made it through nine days.

Five more to go. But Arthur was feeling fine about those five days. He’d double checked all his mail, and made sure to find out when his patrols were scheduled.

Which is... unknown to Arthur, where the next problem stems from. 

Arthur wasn’t the one to rota the patrols, he really didn’t have the time to sit down with a list of names and hours and times and maps and organise everything fairly, it was difficult and time-consuming, but he made sure that Leon knew exactly how many hours he could give up for patrol each week.

Apparently, the communication between Leon and the council was normally handled by Merlin, who wasn’t there. So whilst Arthur was enjoying a solo patrol along the city borders at noon, waving at citizens and making his horse do tricks for giggling children, the council were sitting around the table, waiting rather irately for his arrival.

Now normally, this could’ve been easily dealt with, but when the same guard from three days ago gallops over to inform him of the problem and take over his patrol, Arthur was reminded rather suddenly that Merlin was always the one that came up with sensible sounding excuses.

(He also makes a mental note to avoid that guard forever out of embarrassment.)

This was one of the very rare occasions when Arthur simply glares the council into submission. Normally he likes to work with them; he hates to feel like they're just doing what he wants because they were kissing his arse, but he has no excuse other than “I forgot.” and he felt like that was worse than just.. acting like a bit of a dick for five minutes.

So... yeah. Merlin wasn’t there to reorganise the council meeting around Arthur’s patrol, and then also wasn’t there to come up with an excuse for why it wasn’t reorganised.

Arthur makes it ten days before he admits to himself that perhaps he relies on his manservant just a little too much.

~

Four days later, Arthur had missed another council meeting (despite his best efforts), Lancelot and Mordred had accidentally insulted some visiting Lord (and had therefore been told not to leave their rooms until he had vacated the city), and Gwen was no longer speaking to him, on account of The King being a dick without realising because Merlin wasn’t there to rein in his ego and... well... dickishness. That, and his crown had somehow gone missing between yesterday morning and now.

(If that last one had happened even a week prior, Arthur would’ve been adamant that it had been stolen or something else equally not-his-fault, but with how quickly he’d been made aware of his apparent bad memory and social clumsiness, he had every faith that he’d just misplaced it, and Merlin would know exactly where to look.)

Arthur was sitting on the courtyard steps, tunic unlaced at the top and hair a mess when his servant finally, finally walks through the castle gates. The King perks up slightly, but refuses to give Merlin the satisfaction of being run to, so forces himself to remain in place. He was especially glad that he’d made that decision when he saw Guinevere spring over to greet him. He has a feeling she won’t be all that... welcoming, at least not yet.

Merlin wraps her in a tight hug and Arthur forces down the swell of jealousy in his lungs, especially when he laughs brightly and pulls back to clasp her shoulders. Arthur sees Gwen’s face fall at a question Merlin had asked and he gulps, biting his lip when Merlin frowns and raises an incredulous eyebrow at her response. She points in Arthur’s direction, and The King’s eyes go wide as he rapidly stands, failing miserably at looking as though he weren’t staring in their direction. Guinevere rolls her eyes before giving Merlin one last hug and walking very deliberately in the opposite direction to Arthur.

Merlin marches towards him, slight annoyance mixing with a secret eagerness to check on Arthur speeding up his normal pace significantly. Before the servant can say anything, Arthur grabs his wrist, pulling him up the steps and through the castle without a word, tugging harshly every time Merlin opens his mouth to demand an explanation for himself or an apology for Gwen.

When they finally reach his chambers, Arthur quickly locks the door behind him, whirling on an angry Merlin with flushed cheeks and a desperate look in his eyes:

“I swear Merlin, I will never doubt you again, but Elyan almost died, Gwaine got an infection, Leon and I forgot about Ethel and Halbert, Lancelot and Mordred are essentially under house arrest, I missed two council meetings, lost my crown, and now Gwen’s not talking to me. You’re never allowed to leave me again.”

Merlin freezes in place, staring at Arthur with wide eyes and an open mouth for a few moments before he bursts into laugher. Arthur huffs, crossing his arms as his blush deepens, but waits patiently instead of demanding that Merlin stop. Honestly? He may have been laughing at Arthur, but it was still the most beautiful sound The King had heard in two weeks, and he’d definitely missed it. Which is... something to think about at a later date.

Merlin finally relents, his dimples showing prominently as he holds in another round of giggles at Arthur’s red face. The servant drops his pack to the floor, stepping forward and not giving Arthur time to move away before he pulls him into a tight hug, sighing contentedly at the warm contact:

“I missed you too, you prat. You’ll just have to come with me next time and we can leave Gwen and Gaius in charge.”

Arthur huffs out a gentle laugh, finally wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle tightly and burying his face in the slightly taller man’s hair:

“I did. Miss you, I mean. And I also mean it when I say you’re never going anywhere without me again, this has been a nightmare.”

Merlin snorts, tightening his grip on Arthur as if he were trying to squeeze all of the stress out of him:

“Co-dependency isn’t the healthiest thing in the world, you know.”

Arthur just huffs, refusing to let go as he petulantly responds:

“I don’t care. I’m The King, I can do what I want.”

Arthur can almost feel Merlin rolling his eyes, but the servant just laughs again and seems to nod in agreement:

“Hmm. That excuse is going to come back to haunt you one day. Heard you gave George a raise?”

The blonde tenses in embarrassment, now refusing to pull away so Merlin wouldn’t see his pink cheeks:

“Uh... yeah. He cleans too much and is shit at coming up with plausible excuses, but he did save my arse a few times.”

Arthur can feel Merlin’s laugh vibrate through his ribcage, and though the man was usually rather touch averse, he found he never wanted the feeling to stop. He found himself hoping that Merlin felt the same when The King chuckles at his response:

“Oh yeah? Does that mean I get a raise for being good at excuses and bad at cleaning?”

~

THE END!!! 

Literally wrote this in one day so... sorry if it’s bad😅

Had no clue how I was going to end it until I got there, my thought process essentially just went “Hugs? Yeah. Hugs hugs hugs hugs hugs.” :D

Same as always lads, you wanna write it out in full or remix it or whatever, go for it, just drop me a message and credit/tag me :)

[books-and-catears]

I liked the one about a ghost MC it was a really cute idea! I wanted to request something similar, where the MC who has a the appearance of the Japanese slit mouthed woman. She is a regular human and you can decide if she got the scar's from an accident or not, but she always where's a face mask to hide it and eats alone rather then with the brothers. When she's asked why they say "People can't eat when I they see my face." But one day she finally trusts the brothers enough to show her face.

OH MY GOD I KNOW THIS GHOST. If I'm not wrong, this ghost is called the Kuchisake Onna, kuchi meaning mouth.

This is so wholesome I love it. Your asks are so adorable :')

It has been forever since the accident. And yet the scar makes it feel like yesterday. Two scars running up towards your cheeks, making it look like you're constantly smiling. You hated mirrors at this point, without your mask especially.

You hear loud talking from the dining room downstairs as you stare at your meal on your study table. When was the last time you ate a meal with other people?

"What do you mean you won't eat with us MC?" Mammon and Asmo parotted every other day.

"People can't eat when they see my face." You left with that reply, refusing to answer the follow up questions.

Yours was a face only a mother could love, they said. Some screamed, some smiled sympatheticallly, the others nervously scattered away from the last time you tried to eat out by yourself. The restaurant requested you to leave since they were losing customers.

You walk up to the stairway, watching the brothers in their usual chaos. Maybe - just maybe, they won't be repulsed. Surely they've seen more horrifying things than you?

"Um..." You cleared your throat loudly. All of them stopped and looked at you. You usually never showed up until half an hour after meals.

But today you called out to the one of them. "Would you mind eating with me tonight...?"

Lucifer

"Of course I wouldn't mind MC."

He promptly got up with his plate as if he was already prepped for this day. Swiftly follows you into your room.

He sat down across you and began eating normally. "Thank you for inviting me in MC. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Nothing just..." You said untying your mask. "It felt like a good day." The mask fell off your face into your lap.

You paused and stared at Lucifer. He only looked shocked for a split second before a hidden rage clouded beneath his eyes. "Did someone deliberately-"

"No it was an accident. I was getting my teeth fixed when the lights went out and I moved. And something cut through my- well you can see." You explained.

"I see. Well that's quite unfortunate." Lucifer said and began picking at his plate.

You felt uneasy as chewed your food."You can leave if you feel repulsed. I wouldn't force you to-"

"No such thing MC. I was just thinking of consulting Satan and Solomon. Surely they know of spells that can heal your scars if you want them gone." Lucifer replied promptly. "And it's going to take a lot more than scars to scare us demons away."

"Lucifer...thank you." You said quietly.

"If possible I'd like to eat dinner with you from now on, MC. Frankly it's much calmer and it's a relief from my brothers."

After a long time, you laugh without your mask on.

Mammon

"I'll be right there, MC!"

Hurriedly grabs whatever food he has making a mess and jumps to his feet. He is in such a hurry, it's a miracle he didn't drop half of his dinner.

He plops down across the table from you, grinning ear to ear. "Of course you'd choose the Great Mammon to eat with ya!"

You nodded and chuckled, "Of course. But would you choose to eat with me?" Your pulled your mask away from your face.

His eyes went wide and then watery in the same instant. Is he..crying? "I-Im sorry..." You feel horrible so you hurry and tie the mask back up. Mammon grabs your hands and holds them down.

"I'm not crying stupid human! I'm just...you..you must have been in pain..when that happened." He said. "Who did this to you..."

"It's okay it was an accident, Mammon." You try to calm him down.

"Then why do you hide it? It's not even your fault!" Mammon said pouting. You looked down, "People get uncomfortable..."

Mammon shot up from his chair. "WHO DARE MAKE YOU FEEL BAD ABOUT IT? Show me I'll get them all! Noone messes with my human! I'm yer protector ain't I?! You never have to wear that thing around me!"

You blushed as he moved forward and hugged you, burying your face into his shoulder. "Mammon..."

You knew he was the best protector out there.

Leviathan

"I'm coming right away, don't worry MC!"

Stumbles around with his plate at your sudden invitation. His day has come. He is the chosen one.

He struggles to sit down, feeling estatic and nervous at the same time. "I didn't think you'd want to eat with me of all people, MC..."

"After tonight, maybe you'll feel that way about me Levi..." You said, taking off your mask. His face lit up as he let out a loud "Woahhh!"

Thinking he was scared you tried to hide it again before he screamed, "MC you look just like my favourite character from that horror romance anime "I fell for my best friend's scarred smile! That's so cool!"

You blink at him, blushing. What is with him and his oddly specific anime names!? Levi was oblivious to your shock ,going off at his own tangent. "You could pull off the perfect cosplay, come to my room tomorrow I can design it for you and then I'll make my own to go with it and we can go to the next convention-"

"Levi Levi calm down you'll run out of breath!" You couldn't hold in your laughter.

He stared at you awestruck,"So cute...why would you hide that cute face MC?" You shake your head, "Not everyone sees it as cute Levi."

"Well sucks for them to be such stupid normies." Levi blushed and scoffed.

Levi was the best friend everyone deserves and you were glad to have him.

Satan

"I'd be delighted to join you MC."

Was slightly taken aback at first but quickly composes himself and his dinner and follows you. His pace faster than usual.

Pulls out your chair for you like a gentleman and sits down himself. You smile and blush at the action. "So how was your day MC?" He asks like a gentleman, avoiding the elephant in the room, choosing it normalise it. You let the mask fall off your face.

"Oh..." Satan sat up straight, his shoulders stiff, his eyes going wide in anger. "Who dared to-"

"No no no Satan it was an accident!" You had to explain the whole thing for him to calm down. Then he nodded and held out his palm. "May I see how the deep the scar is MC?"

That was new. Noone has wanted to touch your scars before. When you nod, he reaches out and runs his fingers softly across your scars. "Hmm don't worry. They're not too deep. I can have them gone in a matter of days. That is if you'd like to me to."

It's like he knew. As much as you hated that scar, it kind of helped you see people's true intentions. You looked down unsure. Satan held your hand. "It's normal to get attached to scars you have for too long. None of us here will treat you any differently with or without it."

You smiled at him and held one of his fingers playfully. He laughed, his cheeks turning pink. "Ah now that's a smile I'd love to see everyday. May I have dinner with you more often MC?"

"Of course." His words and his presence were always calming to you.

Asmodeus

"I was wondering when you'd ask MC!"

Daintily picks up all of things and paces after you. He was excited but he restrained himself but he didn't want to scare you off.

Sits down close to you, smiling gleefully. He's just happy to be there with you. Grabs something off your plate with a fork and holds it upto your mouth. "MC come here let me feed you!"

It was probably the most nerve wracking to open your mask in front of him. The Avatar of Lust, the most beautiful being in Hell, and you- ugh, what's the point? You've come this far, let's get it over with. You put your mask down, bite off the potato off his fork.

You'd think Asmo would probably gasp and act all dramatic and hysterical. But instead he cupped your face, his eyes filled with worry and tenderness. "MC how long have you had this...?"

"A little over three years." You answered honestly. Asmo looked like he was about to cry. "You've been hiding away your pretty face from people for three years..." Asmo pulled you in a hug. "Noone deserves that. It's too lonely."

"Oh I'd hardly call it pretty-" Before you can even retort, he is glaring and pouting at you, holding your shoulders.

"I think I know beauty a little better than you, MC. And I say you're gorgeous and I'm going to eat with you everyday now." Asmo huffed to which you laughed.

Everyone deserves a hypeman like Asmo in their lives.

Beelzebub

"Oh? Me? Sure MC!"

Is surprised but happily goes along with you with all his food. You know he loves you when he gets midway from eating just to eat in your room.

He sits across, already muching away at his food. "Thank you for asking me to eat with you MC." You nod and tentatively take your mask off, trying not to draw too much attention for it.

Beel looks up shocked, his mouth full of food but he stopped chewing. He involuntarily reaches out to touch you, "Does it hurt MC?"

You shake your head. "It's years old Beel. It's okay. " Beel looks genuinely relieved at that and goes back to eating again. He doesn't seem bothered by it at all after that.

"Say MC will you be free next week? I could use your help in the new workout I'm doing. I need to train particular muscles for the big game they said." He switched to a whole new topic just like that. "Also this means I get to eat with you every day right?"

You felt warm inside. You were more than just your scar and Beel made you feel like that by hardly saying anything at all.

Belphegor

"...me huh? No I wouldn't mind."

Has a smug grin on his face as he gathers up his meal and slowly heads upward with you, making sure his brothers see how you chose him over the others. Cheeky cow.

He sits leaning into you cause he's too lazy to sit up straight. "So what's the special occasion MC? A face reveal?" Wow this one is direct.

He is staring right at you, as you pull off the mask slowly, thinking if it was a bad idea. His eyes grow wide for a split second before his fingers are already near your mouth feeling the scars.

"Deliberate or accident?" He asks. "Accident." You answer. He nods, "Good. I'm too tired today, wouldn't be able to take appropriate revenge." His fingers never leave your face.

"Is that why you keep it covered? You're embarrassed of it?" He asks. You think about it for a while. "I think I accepted it, it just seemed to make people uncomfortable and scared, if I smiled or opened my mouth to eat." You answer.

He smirked. "Then smile more. Let their cowardly selves feel uncomfortable. It's their problem that they can't see how cute your smile is."

That was surprisingly thoughtful. You smiled at him. "Thanks..."

He smirked back, "Also I'm going to be eating here from now on. My brothers annoy me."

He's cheeky but he has a good heart. Smiling never felt so easy.

[tommyspeakycap]

Genuinely think your one of the best peaky blinders writers out there. Do you think you could write something about little toddler Shelby and Tommy. Maybe little Shelby is out in the rain jumping in puddles? Love your work!!!

Thank you!! That’s so kind of you x

Puddles

Polly shakes her head in something of dismay as she holds a cup of tea snugly in her hands, keeping them warm against the winter chill that whips in the open window in front of her. “Mind your sister, Finn!” She calls out it, waiting until she got a “Yes auntie Pol!” yelled back to her from the 11 year old who had become somewhat accustomed to keeping a watchful eye over his only younger sibling. His answer seemed satisfaction enough for his aunt to nod her head and pull that window closed to maintain some semblance of heat in the house, but not enough for her to move away from said window to keep her own eye on the youngest Shelby sibling.

She stands cautionary. She knows better than to trust that Finn will do much to prevent his very clumsy five year old little sister from wandering off and getting herself hurt. (y/n) is notoriously like Thomas is all sorts of ways. She’s always getting into things she shouldn’t, hearing things she shouldn’t, seeing things she shouldn’t. She seems to sit back and observe a lot of things. They’re trying to grow her out of it.

Polly attributes it to the majority of her life being spent in a country torn by war. She was only nearly two when her brothers left, so naturally she didn’t understand much of what was going on. Everything was up in the air and now the war was over, it seemed l to the youngster that a war’s not just over when the fighting ends. It has also become clear that Tommy is her favourite sibling, so her similarities to him can often be attributed to her spending the most time with that brother.

Alas, in all her likeness to Tommy, she is much softer in manner than he is himself. Little (y/n) is like Tommy was when he was her age, incredibly inquisitive. Except softer. She chatters away to herself as she does things and though it takes her time to warm up to people, once she starts talking it’s hard to get her to stop for anything. She’s so kind and so very loving too, she laughs just like Tommy once did and it makes Polly’s heart happy deep down when that little girl falls asleep each night with a sweet little smile.

“Alright Pol?” Tommy greets as he comes through the back of the house from the betting shop to see his aunt standing at the window still. Polly nods, “Just watching to see if that bloody brother of yours is watching your sister like i told him to not five minutes ago.” She sighs as she takes another sip of her tea. Sure enough, Finn had not noticed his younger sister wandering off up the street subtly without even noticing in herself that she was getting further and further from the relative safety in proximity of her home and the brother who was supposed to be watching her. It seemed as though the puddles that filled certain uneven surfaces of the Watery Lane streets were more interesting, and finding more deep ones had stolen her full attention away from her surroundings. Tommy stands next to his aunt, leaning over slightly to spot his youngest sister slowly going further and further away than she should.

“Bloody hell,” Polly curses, sitting her tea down on the table beside her and reaching her hand to the handle of the window, “Don’t bother Pol,” Tommy interrupts her from opening the window fully and yelling for Finn to run and bring you back. Polly looks at him like he’s grown a second head, wondering if he’s completely lost his mind. He would usually have been the one giving Finn a stern word about making sure his sister was safe at all times. He just offered her a smile and says “I’ll get her.” simply, brushing past and grabbing his coat on the way. Polly furrows her eyebrows and watches as Tommy does a slight jog up the street until he nears (y/n) and then stops by her.

Her heart is suddenly warmed when the pair don’t turn back around to head home, but Tommy extends his hand to the little girl and she takes it gleefully to lead him on to find as many more puddles as they could before it got too rainy, cold and dark. He’s been so busy lately it had been a while since she had seen Tommy just be the brother of the little girl he loved so much.

Tommy relishes the feeling of his sisters little hand in his as they walk towards their uncles scrap yard, jumping in puddles along the way. She soaks the bottom of his trousers in dirty puddle water, but his heart sings with her giggles. “Tommy look!” She squeals, jumping in excitement as she spots a huge one near the window of the Garrison. She’s off a few feet before he can do anything other than open his mouth to speak. “Come on Tom!” She calls to him, “you’re so slow!” The tease draws laughter from him that only she can cause. He stops only for a moment in some form of mock shock. “Me?” He gasps, “Slow? Alright then miss speedy pants, wait there and i’ll race you.”

(y/n) does just that, waiting excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet for Tommy to reach her, both standing still a good few meters away from the puddle near the pub. The streets are pretty empty given the weather conditions and Tommy’s reputation had gone out the window of his thoughts long ago. “Okay then,” (y/n) breathes, “3...2...1!”

The pair take off at a run, the little girl stealing the lead immediately as Tommy runs slower than he probably ever has to allow the five year old to scuttle ahead faster than him. She giggles, elated as she knows she’s in front of her brother. “‘M gonna beat you Tom!” She puffs out, little boots splashing through the barren street as he laughs from behind her. “Not if i catch you first!” He calls back, speeding up his run as he heard the little girl screech in shock at the sound of him getting closer. He can see her putting her all into running from him, looking behind her over and over, laughing only when she realises he’s far enough behind her or screaming again if he’s getting close.

Inside the Garrison, Grace hears a child’s scream and what sounds very much like Tommy Shelby shouting that he’ll get her. It makes her immediately peer out the window just in time to see what most people in Small Health never expect from the gangster.

He runs up behind his little sister quickly, scooping her into his arms with complete ease as she squirms, squeals and giggles loudly. “Faster than me ey?” He snarls playfully, fingers digging softly into her sides to tickle hysterical laughter out of the girl. “No Tommy! Never!” She shrieks, knowing well enough agreeing with her brother was enough to stop his tickles and it clearly is as he places her gently back down on her feet, a sheepish grin overtaking her little features as she looks up at him in adoration. It was widely clear how much she loved her big brother.

Grace moves to the doorstep of the pub, arms crossed over her chest to keep her warm against the chill. “Having fun, Thomas?”

He whips around at the sound of her voice, subconsciously letting go of his sisters hand in surprise, almost as if he was always ready to put up a fight and defend her with everything he had within a moments notice just as reflex. She knows better than to assume he wouldn’t cut anyone who came near that little girl. “Suppose so,” he shrugs when he realises it’s just the bartender he had become rather intrigued by. “Thought i would-“

The sound of loud, proud giggling and the feeling of water hitting the backs of his trousers immediately makes him whip around again, spotting his small little sister grinning up at him like a cheshire cat and his very own devilish glint in her little blue eyes as she stands in the middle of the puddle after having splashed water up at him. “Oh you little buggar. I’ll get you for that.” He threatens, taking a moment to get over his shock as (y/n) laughs at him again but is joined this time by the light giggle of the Irish bartender. That little girl only widens her cheeky grin, her innocence still leaking through her cheeky nature as she looks behind her, knowing her brother would have to run through the huge puddle to get her.

“Only if you catch me first.”

And just like that, the hardened Birmingham gangster bids a quick goodbye to his bartender and is off running through puddles with a five year old little girl who very coincidentally melts his heart of stone down to a puddle each and every single day.