#or read their mums childhood development books as a child

[emeritusemeritus]

Hiii I love you works so much and wonder if I could request a dad Fred?? Thought it would be cute see Fred with his newborn and how loving he would be to his child while also learning to be a father

Hi Anon! Thank you very much! I agree, I think Fred would be the best dad! Here’s my thoughts… 🖤

Warnings: Dad!Fred, Mum!Reader, mentions of childbirth, breastfeeding, absolute fluff. The formatting is killing me today, sorry for the annoying spaces.

Word count: 900

Milestones

It's quiet and peaceful now, the room mostly dark except for the light glow from the moon pouring in through the window beside where Fred is sat in the leather recliner with his newborn son on his chest. He's shirtless and his son is only wearing a nappy underneath a thick, knitted blanket that had been knitted just for him by his Grammy. There's a sense of peace in this moment, the newest Weasley breathing softly as he snoozes in the crook of his daddy's arms, the large hands holding him protectively as he sings softly to the little boy, a song he remembers from his own childhood. The thin red hair that his son had inevitably been born with is mostly hidden under his little knitted hat but even without his family's signature look, he can tell that this is his son, the perfect blend of both mummy and daddy.

The baby's lips keep moving in his sleep, plump, pink and ever so slightly parted as he sucks on nothing, thinking of milk even in his sleep.

He knows that the little one will be awake soon, crying out for his food but until then, Fred is going to lap up every second of blissful silence he can.

He looks over at you in the bed, sleeping soundly with the ghost of a smile on your face as you finally get to sleep on your back for the first time in months. He smiles then, happy to watch you sprawled out on the bed having a very well deserved sleep after tirelessly bringing his child into the world. Your wedding rings glint in the light of the moon, catching Fred's attention with their sparkle and as he looks between you and his son, he can't believe this is even real, that this is his life. He loves you both so much that it feels like his heart actually hurts, like it could burst at any second.

The little one in his arms begins to stir and the peacefulness Fred had felt only minutes ago is replaced by anxiety by what was to come. Would he feed easily or would he struggle to latch? Could he calm him, shush him in the right way? Was he holding him right? It seemed as soon as his son began to stir, the nerves crept up, still unsure of how to do his new role.

"Freddie?" A voice asks for him softly and he looks up to you just as the little one lets out his first little cry, fists clenched tight beside his body as he battles to get them near his mouth.

"Pass him here handsome," you say, beginning to sit up on the bed. You still sound so tired and Fred feels guilty all of a sudden that he couldn't do more, that he couldn't take over and just let you rest. But you don't seem to mind, reaching out for your shared little bundle with open arms and a motherly smile that Fred thinks is your best look yet. Little Weasley instantly starts rooting as soon as he's placed against your chest and you quickly slither out of your top and try to align your breast with his mouth and after a couple of moments, he gets it. You smile in relief as you feel him suckling and turn to look at Fred who looks on in concern.

"He's got it," you say with a smile as Fred perches himself on the side of the bed, keeping both of you close, his arm naturally falling across your shoulders as you lean your head back to rest on his chest.

Fred knew all about the milestones that are significant to a baby's development, he'd read about it in the book his mum had given him and he'd heard his siblings talking about the crawling, the walking, the babbling. When he first saw his son roll at four months a sense of pride filled him that he'd never felt before, beaten only by the first steps he'd taken only 6 months later. You'd rushed down the stairs to the shop with little Weasley in your arms, beaming with tears trailing down your face as you dragged him into the office to show daddy what his son had just accomplished. The first time he sat up, the first smile, the first real giggle, they were all imprinted onto Fred's memory forever, some of his happiest moments. When he first heard his son say 'da' for the first time, it was like the world had suddenly turned to technicolour, like no other sound could ever compare. But he never expected those extra milestones that broke his heart along the way. The first time they reach out to be picked up, the way they suddenly fit on your hip rather than being cradled, the little scoot backwards as they climb into your lap for another story.

It was the hardest job in the world, throwing in a busy job that required innovation and creativity and a marriage that they worked hard to keep passionate and fun. Fred never doubted his ability to be a good dad, he learned from the best, but it was a job filled with responsibility and anxiety that sometimes felt a little overwhelming but the love would always be there.

[feysandfeels]

LUISA READS FOURTH WING :)

Right fam, time for some dragon riding (non sexual… from what I have been able to gather)

Ngl, but reading (listening) the "a dragon without its rider is a tragedy, a rider without its dragon is dead" after seeing so many tiktoks about it and them being all epic, has me giddy, has me excited. Here we go.

So far we have a cunty yet caring elder sister, a dead dad, a rude as fuck mum, a dead brother (who apparently was beloved above all) and a girl severely lacking in calcium.

"you won't get any special treatment just for being my daughter" my sister in christ, what special treatment? so far you have been nothing like an ass.

I cannot judge Violet for wanting to take her books with her....but babygirl from what I have seen you truly have no strength.. so like..sugar.. either develop some muscle or like let it go.

What's so wrong about being a scribe? like what do you all have against academia?

Okay no wait... what are they prepping her for? What the fuck is this subscription day? isn't it like just first day of uni?? Is she fighting? is it a race? to like the first dragon they can find? the first tunnel of their respective career?

aaaaaaaand here comes the childhood friend with soft brown eyes that laughs with his whole body.

Seems like extremely poor parenting to send your extremly untrained daughter into such a challenge... like she has to climb some rocks... and like run a lot, there's going to be wind. Like no. And for what? for the glory of your name? SHE CAN'T EVEN LIFT HER OWN BOOKS!

Gotta love a "This isn't America's TOP BEST FRIEND" moment.

I'm sorry but how is conscribing (?) all children from the traitors to the best school in the kingdom/republic/empire/country and give them a solid ass chance of becoming riders, and therefore climb to the top of the social and military pyramid a fitting punishment? They should have ended their respective bloodlines. You rebel you and your entire bloodline die.

Colombian brain translating Xaden to Xavier.

I should have asked... can dragons talk in this world?

What is the parapit?? Is that how it is written?

Mira (?) is a badass. Queen behaviour.

Mira being like "don't die Violet, I'd hate to be an only child." And having seen her mother? Honestly same. Like no. Hard Pass.

Wait is the blonde guy she is befriending the one with the scar from the betrayal?? Dylan? yes? no?

Oh and they get to marry after graduating. Why do I feel I am walking straight into another early 20s marriage.

Most riders are legacies... good to see nepotism is alive and well. Neporiders.

Oh so Xaden has tattoos from his wrist up to his jaw.. okay, okay.

AND HIS FATHER KILLED HER OLDER BROTHER. AND THEY WERE ROOMATES!

My girl really went "He is #SoTall and #HandsomeAsHell"

I don't get what this challenge is about and apparently Dylan is not making it, he liked slipped or smth and is like hanging...

yeah no he fell to his death. RIP Dylan.

My girl is like screaming history facts to distract herself while she [insert the challenge.... I think it's walking a very slippery bridge]

Okay so Jack is an asshole... it's giving Cato.

Kinda want to bet that he will try to eventually fight Violet and Xaden will defend her.

Got confirmation, it is in fact a bridge.

Rihannon made it. Which is a personal win because she seems sweet.

Oh my god Jack focus on your own thing, you are being and asshole, no one cares. Fuck off, fall to your death, shut up. Like why are you so pressed about this random ass calcium lacking girl. GET A JOB. STAY AWAY FROM HER.

Not her reciting the codex lol it is giving Elizabeth Swann citing The Pirate Code to Captain Barbossa. Babygirl, bless you, but he clearly does not give a fuck.

Violet truly made that crossing out of delulu energy and history facts and honestly? respect.

Wait, hold the fuck on... this audiobook is 21h long? what on god's green earth is going to happen in this book? oh my god this thread is going to be huge. Apologies to all.

omg Jack why are you still talking? either shut up or jump infront of a dragon and die. LIKE WHY ARE YOU SO OBSESSED WITH HER? He is giving blonde guy energy (but not the one you gave Dylan. RIP Dylan. You will never be forgotten)

aaaaaahhh there we go Jack threatened her and when he makes the move to kill her Xaden will be like "the fuck bro" and kill him instead.

Here comes the childhood best friend. I feel he is hot. Dane? Dane Atos?? Kinda hot of him. Wait he is Squad Leader? that's hot.

[theangellies]

TIMELINE - VAL DUPONT

Below is an in-depth timeline of Val Dupont's life from birth (May 17, 1990) until now (beginning of August 2023).

Please be aware of trigger warnings under the cut.

TW // Overdose, Drugs, Hostages, Crime

BORN: May 17, 1990

Born in Kilkenny, Ireland, to Louis and Maeve Dupont (fisherman and journalist, respectively). Val is their 2nd child (oldest sister Ruthie Dupont born in 1988)

March 1992 - Younger sister Benna Dupont born.

Val has an uneventful but fun childhood, develops close relationships with their sisters and is always curious.

2002 - Maeve Dupont gets praise for an exposé on unlawful practices in the Irish prison system. Val is inspired by his mother's work.

2004 - 2008 - High school is rough for Val. They're in with the wrong crowd and can't focus on their schoolwork. They barely graduate, focused more on fucking around and partying.

November 2012 - After a really bad overdose, Val is afraid for their future. Still living with their parents, Val has a heart to heart with his mum.

April 2013 - With his mum's help and some old teachers from high school willing to mentor him, Val applies to a residency program for aspiring journalists at Boston University.

June 2013 - Val is accepted into the program and moves to Boston, leaving Ireland for the first time since they were born.

2015 - After getting into another program for creative writing, begins to notice his eyes unfocusing, trouble reading whiteboards and street signs.

Late 2015 - Eye-doctor notices a stigmatism and has Val start to wear special prescription glasses.

2016 - Eyesight continues to decline. After seeing multiple specialists, he's diagnosed with early onset Macular Degeneration of his retinas.

Late 2016 - Val begins working on a manuscript for a middlegrade fantasy novel his mentors think he should send to agencies. This is called "Margot Sees Magic".

Early 2017 - Val's book is picked up by a major publisher and he's given a major book deal. He is now legally blind.

September 2017 - 'Margot Sees Magic' is published, and Val moves to NYC because of side journalism work and wanting to be closer to his editors.

2019 - The 2nd book in the series, "Margot Feels Magic" is published. While out celebrating, Val goes out to a few bars and strikes up conversations with Brotherhood members. After they all get drunk, he learns more about their cause and is intrigued by it. The journalism spark in their brain remains, and they exchange numbers.

2020 - Val is given an assistant as talks begin of film rights, more series, and possible world expansion for his books.

2021 - Overhearing some conversations in clubs, Val casually texts one of the old Brotherhood members they spoke to years ago. They continue to correspond as Val feeds any information they hear.

Late 2021 - Val's told that the info he supplied helped take down a traitor from within the Brotherhood who was stealing. Val feels really proud of this, that they were able to weed someone out.

2022 - Val takes on a more official role in the Brotherhood, given actual names of people to listen in on or to pick the brains of. Locations to go and sit and wait. Sometimes will work with other members to get information out of others, sweet-talking or helping get their guard down. Rarely, but occasionally, in hostage situations.

2023 - The third book will be published in the fall and more opportunities continue to rise as Val gets themselves deeper into the Brotherhood.

[marcsalmonds]

A genuinely useful bag I aquired from my nan dropping something off to me that just happens to be a sketchers shoe bag, has me doing the smarties autism test in reverse because everytime i use it someone in my family is like "I didn't think you'd shop there" expecting it to contain the ugliest trainers known to man in it and not some shit that doesn't fit in my normal bag, and getting increasingly frustrated that everyone thinks that

[ashesandhackles]

The Hogwarts Express scene in Prince's Tale: A Sirius and Snape analysis

I really, really enjoy Sirius and Snape as characters and their respective narrative functions in story. But what gets me most about them is how much Rowling hints about their backgrounds and so much of it makes sense with regard to who they are as adults. So I am going to be breaking down a very small scene from Prince Tale and getting into long winded hypothesis about their respective childhoods.

So, let's start with Snape. The scene begins with Snape rushing to find Lily, already in his Hogwarts clothes. Harry notes he must have been eager to get out of his clothes - ones that look like he borrowed from his mother, as Petunia spitefully pointed out. This has always been a very interesting detail to me - first off, it indicates how poor Snape's family is. Second, this indicates his tiny rebellion from his father - he refuses to wear clothes of the abusive man, and prefers his mother's. I admit, I am partial to the reading that Snape refuses to associate with his father in tiny ways, rather than Tobias refusing to hand his son clothes.

(I have seen readings which say that it is also a sign of neglect - perhaps his parents bought clothes that simply don't fit him, but I am more inclined to think it's a hand me down, simply because Harry identifies so strongly with it. Because Harry knows what it is like to wear a hand me down that don't quite fit, that are too big for you, or the ones that make you look ridiculous.)

Lily and Petunia's relationship is fraught with Petunia's jealousy. And young Lily is upset over it when Snape meets her. "I am not talking to you. Tuney hates me" she tells him. "Because we saw the letter from Dumbledore". Young Lily shows signs of being extremely emotionally reactive and this scene is one of them. It's easier for her to deal with Petunia's rejection of her by telling Snape she doesn't want to talk to him. It's a childish displacement of her hurt over her sister's rejection. (I am genuinely baffled by interpretations that Lily and Hermione are similar. Hermione is very cognitive person, Lily, as we have been shown repeatedly in memories, is not).

Snape, however, with his bad history with Petunia and his inability/ poor social skills to understand why this matters to her, goes: "So what?"

Lily, who throws him a look of deep dislike, says "So she's my sister". This seed is important because this is what develops into "he doesn't get me" feeling she later displays in her teenage scenes with him. Interestingly, most of Lily's personal relationships have deeply interwined love and dislike - Petunia (whose rejection bothers her but she cheerfully informs Sirius that Harry nearly broke a vase her sister sent - which means there is resentment on her end too), James - who she was attracted to even before 7th year but also disliked at one point, and Snape - again, a contentious friendship filled with love and distance.

"She's only a -" we dont get to hear what Snape intended to say. And given his own acrimony with Petunia, it could be anything. However, I read it as "She's only a Muggle" because it ties into his feelings about his father. Snape, who is proud of being half a Prince, emphasizing his magical lineage from his mother's side, his refuge in a violent, neglectful home. (Barty Crouch Jr and Snape with their disappointing fathers - I imagine Voldemort is supremely attractive leader to people with broken homes like this)

Snape, by all accounts, shows a disorganised attachment style. His caregiver, his mother - and perhaps the only parent he seems to have regard for, is too preoccupied by her own abuse to be there for her son - we see this in glimpses Harry sees in OOTP: " woman cowering" where a man shouts at her, and a young, neglected Snape cries in the corner. Children born in homes like this have trouble regulating their emotions, simultaneously displaying tendencies to aggressively lash out or show disassociative symptoms. Both of which Snape displays. Statistically, this is also seen more in low income households where economic instability and resulting domestic instability creates an unsafe environment for the kids to safely form ideas of their identity, or express emotions in healthy ways, modelling instead out of behaviour seen at home.

Then, Snape reminds her that they are going to Hogwarts. He is already in his Hogwarts clothes - now, Snape gets to be the impressive figure. The one who told her about magic, who theorised about how Muggles get letters from magical people, the one who told her about Dementors and Azkaban. He has already left behind the Spinner's End version of him, he wants to bigger than that, and is keen to be in place of magical learning and to join Slytherin. Essentially, he shows signs of unstable identity, insecurity - all prime for grooming into a cult.

And here comes along James Potter, who looks around at the mention of Slytherin. James's comment uses Snape's line and directs it to Sirius instead and it becomes a conversation between them, as a way to bond more with a fellow "rowdy boy" Sirius. Effectively ignoring the other two.

Sirius as we see here, "does not smile" when James talks about Slytherin. He essentially says something that can be construed as a way to nip that conversation in bud: "My whole family has been in. Slytherin". This suggests to me that there is some loyalty to his family there and his disillusionment with them isn't entirely fixed yet. After all, Sirius's intense loyalty to his friends, more specifically James, did not come out of thin air. It is reasonable to suggest that he felt some loyalty to his family at some point and the intensity with which he regards his friends is a reaction to burned off and being a "displaced person without a family" as Rowling put it.

Interestingly, while his reaction to his mother and Bellatrix are obviously sore spots, his response to Regulus is comparatively quite soft. ("Stupid, idiot" - something he calls James later on in the same book, OOTP). I imagine Sirius has quite complicated feelings about his brother and he is capable of nuance (when the person isn't Snape, where his dislike seems to be borne of an intense projection): "The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters". As someone who is grown up among them, Sirius would understand that.

His framing of Regulus's need to please his parents also further highlights what exactly is the source of disillusionment. He calls Regulus "soft enough to believe them" - which means he is crediting his own intelligence to see through his parents bigoted world view. Clearly, bigotry is not something the Blacks explained in a way that Sirius, eldest of their male line and their heir, bought it. It also probably didn't help the Blacks case that Grimmauld Place is in a Muggle neighborhood and that their eldest son is a bit of a wild boy with interest in pushing boundaries. His intellectual disconnect leads to the righteous rage he later feels but it began there. (Boy, it must suck to discover that everything you have been taught to value in the world and in yourself as the heir is essentially rubbish). Since his differences with his family began with seeds of intellectual disconnect rather than on intense empathy with downtrodden, it makes him, as a pureblooded privileged boy, unable to truly understand Lupin's fears regarding his lycanthropy. Hence, the Werewolf prank (I am not getting to the Snape bit, just the Lupin bit). To James' credit, he does understand what that means for Lupin and saves all three of them from different set of consequences.

Anyway, back to the scene. James, who has made an ass of himself in front of his new friend, who he was getting along with fine until now, then goes "Blimey, I thought you seemed alright". (Btw, I find James wildly large ego kind of hilarious here, especially in light of Snape's comment about him to Sirius in OOTP: "You will know he is so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him"). Sirius, who I believe has been raised like "royalty" as Blacks would, has good enough social skills to defuse a situation. He grins and says: "Maybe I will break the tradition".

This line is an indication of Sirius's desire for independence, an identity seperate from his family. The use of the word "tradition" is interesting. It sounds like Sirius is expected to behave in a certain way, the heir of Black family whose parents thought being a Black "made you practically royal". Adult Sirius is contemptuous of this, or their "valuable contribution to Ministry" which means they just gave gold - it tells me that any and all conditions put on him by his family were to fulfill tradition that is either worthless or holds no meaning in his eyes. The root of the emotional abuse Sirius suffers from his family is this - realising his parents love for him is conditional on him being a certain way. (In fact, you can read Regulus desire to emphasise his connection to the family as a reaction to what he sees with Sirius - Sirius does not behave, Mum and Dad don't love him). As a child with unconscious knowledge of lack of love, Sirius then acts out, they react, rinse and repeat "until he has had enough". Sirius chafes against boundaries well into adulthood and doesn't react well to people enforcing it on him, even if it is out of love for him. Cue the fire scene with Harry where he behaves as if Harry is rejecting him instead of protecting him.

Sirius asks James about where he wants to go, and Snape, who is incensed about James being insulting about a House he put stock in, which he made part of new identity (so that he is no longer that Snape boy from Spinner's End) and was in general trying to be impressive about in front of Lily, "makes a disparaging noise" once James talks of Gryffindor. Snape's response to James' : "Got a problem with that?" is interesting. He says: "If you'd rather be brawny, rather than brainy-"

This is an important value for Snape. He knows he is clever and values it. He spends his spare time inventing hexes, making great shortcuts to Potions. He has genuine thirst for learning and he hones it. In SWM, we see that he has written far more longer answers than anyone else, he is poring over his paper after exams. He even mocks Hermione's lack of inventive answers: "Answer copied word to word from the textbook, but correct in essentials". He values originality. It may be me stretching this, but I am partial to the reading: this is his way of rejecting his father once again, who is implied to be a violent man. (in other words, someone who is hypermasculine - "brawny". In fact, Snape's rejection of hypermasculinity is a huge post on it's own - Potions (brewing, cauldrons - coded as feminine arts), the doe Patronus, his proficiency in Occlumency and Legliemency (intuitive mind arts, again seen archetypically feminine) etc).

"Where are you hoping to go, seeing as you are neither?" - Sirius is quick with emotionally cutting insults. Snape hasn't even finished his sentence, but Sirius is already on his case. Which suggests growing up in a household with sharp tongues. It's a fair assumption, given Mrs Black's half mad portrait. It also tallies with Sirius's talking about his mother: "My mother didn't have a heart Kreacher, she kept herself alive out of pure spite" . The wounds are fresh enough on this. (Another interesting way Snape and Sirius act as inverse mirrors - Snape rejects his father, Sirius rejects his mother. Sirius acts as proxy for James for Harry while Snape takes on Lily's role of protecting him). However, you know who else is spiteful? Sirius.

While James is the physical bully (the tripping Snape, doing most of the bullying in SWM), Sirius attacks emotionally. ( Sample the one about Snape's appearance - "I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment, there will be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word" or even the carelessly vicious- "Put that away, before Wormtail wets himself in excitement"). Curiously, with all that talk of how his mother being spiteful, it's her room he spends time in when he is depressed. (Again, in inverse mirror way, we can talk of how Snape looks for a father figure in Dumbledore - craves his validation and is proud of Dumbledore's trust in him). We could argue it's also because Buckbeak is there, and perhaps it's the largest room in the house, but it's very telling that's where Sirius spends time when he is "in a fit of sullens". Sirius's sense of abandonment from his family, makes him look for family connections with friends - a trait he shares with Harry. Interestingly, the first time he glimpses Harry in Privet Drive, Harry is also running away from home - just like he did. Anyway, I could go on.

[kalorphic]

If your asks are open again- what were the RO’s like as kids?

They are indeed lol

For some of them it depends on what period of their childhood

K: K’s parents died when they were only two, so they don’t remember them at all. They were in care for about a year before Darla and Ringo adopted them. K was a gentle, but stoic child who loved their mums and family dog, Jynx, dearly (and was very protective of them). They were a child prodigy, something which was noted early on, prompting their mums to enrol them on an early admission scholarship to a pretty prestigious school. K managed to wrap everyone of importance around their pinky finger very quickly, learning at an early age just how easily manipulated people were. This carried on through their teenage years into adulthood (although they never lost any gentleness or respect towards their mums or animals).

A: when they were younger, they loved causing mischief and making people laugh. They were also pretty reckless, often wandering off to explore or getting themself stuck in trees or, on one notable occasion, on the roof when the window locked behind them. However, when Obinna was born, A’s demeanour completely changed. They vowed, then and there, to protect their little sibling however they could, becoming a dutiful older sibling. A was still mischievous, but they were far less reckless, preferring instead to take their sibling on little adventures around the garden or park to teach them all about the wildlife they came across.

Reese: was a very loving and cheeky child, who was curious about pretty much everything. They were surrounded by people growing up and were very sociable. They were always the life of the party, and would corral their siblings into learning songs and dances together, while their parents played instruments. However, Reese would also get very angry as a child, and break things in small fits of rage. Their parents sent them to anger management, and they learnt a lot of coping methods. Unfortunately, it also had the unfortunate effect of teaching Reese to bury their real feelings in order to protect others and themself, which eventually developed into their flirty, flighty, use-you-and-lose-you kind of persona.

Luisa: bitter and broken, but still defiant.

Cody: when they were younger, their home live was incredibly stuffy and uncomfortable, Cody was treated more like an object to be paraded around than their parents child. Things got even worse when Cody came out as non-binary and pansexual, and they were kicked out of their home. Leaving them a very angry child, but their uncle Graham who took them in, was very patient and loving, and managed to coax Cody back out of their shell. Something Cody is forever grateful for, more than they would ever be able to put into words.

Noah: they were very well behaved as a child, they watched their mom, at one point, nearly work herself to death to provide for them, so Noah always tried to support and take care of Riley in any way they could. They would often sit in the diner his mom worked at until the early hours of the morning, doing homework and reading books the lovely bookstore lady would loan to them. However, this also allowed Noah to see first hand the way society treated Riley for being a young, single mother on minimum wage. It was just the first of many catalysts for the way Noah is now. Things got better when his mother married Connor and he and Manon became apart of their family.

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

jacqueline wilson’s ‘love lessons’

tw: abuse, pedophilia, characters making Bad Decisions, long unnecessary spiel about my childhood like I’m running a recipe blog

It’s funny how loads of the authors who helped shaped me into the vaguely humanoid being I am today have names beginning with the letter ‘J’; Judy Blume, Jeff Kinney, John Green, J.K. Rowling (yikes, I know) … and Jacqueline Wilson.

I’ve never owned a Jacqueline Wilson book of my own; they were always borrowed from a friend, or from a friend of a friend, or from a friend of a cousin- you get the gist. Her books, for me, come with an entire aesthetic: something reminiscent of yard sales, and reading under the covers with a flashlight, and being lulled into a false sense of security by the deceptively innocent Nick Sharratt illustration on the cover until someone’s best friend gets mowed over.

So I knew what I was getting into when I picked up Love Lessons. I knew this was going to be Fucked Up; and boy, was I right.

(Here’s the part where I warn you about spoilers.)

From an abusive dad to creepy child predator teachers to slut-shaming and victim blaming, this book has it all.

The main character is Prudence ‘Prue’ King, who is homeschooled at the beginning of the book, along with her sister, Grace. Their parents remain rooted in the early twentieth century, and are very strict about- well, everything. No TV, no computers, not a single mobile phone in the house; their clothing worse than the orphans’ from Annie; and their father remains distinctly distrustful of modern institutions like the school and the hospital; and so on, and so forth.

Daddy King suffers a stroke, and has to be taken to the hospital. Meanwhile, Mrs. King (a floppy, spineless woman who lives in fear and awe of her, frankly horrid, husband) sends the girls to school, behind the then invalid Mr. King’s back. Cue Prue and Grace being the freakshows of the school, with their strange clothing and overbearing mother.

Grace manages to make friends, but Prue remains alone. The kids are dicks, the teachers are dicks… well, all of them but one. And that’s the art teacher, Mr. Raxberry (I just couldn’t get over that name; it seems like something you’d name a mythical plant from Pixie Hollow or some shit. I’m assuming it isn’t an actual name, since the spelling & grammar check on my computer doesn’t seem to recognize it), or Rax, as he’s called.

Oh, yeah; Prudence’s favorite subject in school is art, and she’s a whiz at it. This is relevant, because reasons.

And here’s where stuff gets murky. Prue develops a crush on Rax- which is perfectly normal. I’m definitely no stranger to it; I’ve had crushes on my teachers, my mum admitted she used to think one of her professors was cute. And yeah, as I grew older, I grew out of those crushes and now have a markedly more refined taste in men (unless he’s 5’ 7’’, born in ’97 and named Bang Chan, I don’t want him); and my mum married my dad, so I’m assuming she did, too. Admittedly, now that my dad teaches at a university, it’s icky to think that there might be students who have crushes on him- but I digress.

My point is, loads of us have liked our teachers. But I doubt the majority of us have acted on it.

And Prue actively showing her interest in Rax isn’t the worst part. That’s a spot reserved for Rax reciprocating her feelings.

Guess Ezra Fitz and Ms. Grundy (yes, I watched Riverdale; please don’t cancel me) have a new addition to the Creep Club.

The age of consent in the UK is 16, if I’m not mistaken. Prue is 14. She’s just barely become a teenager, and she’s being preyed upon.

Because that is what Rax is. He’s a predator; he preys upon this vulnerable girl who’s never been in a relationship before- hell, she’s never even had friends- her father’s abusive, so she obviously doesn’t have the best experience when it comes to men- she’s unpopular at school, with the students and staff alike- and he lures her in. I don’t care how bloody nice he is to Sarah, or what a good dad he is (well, he’s really not, seeing as he cheated on the mother of his children WITH A BLOODY FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD)- the guy’s a fucking pedophile.

I was staunchly stuck at a yellow light with him; like, sure, maybe Prue thinks he’s flirting with her- maybe she’s looking at this all wrong, she doesn’t know how relationships work- see, he drew a picture of Sarah, too, in his secret notebook- Prue’s just reading into this too much- up until he says he loves her.

Dude. Humbert fucking Humbert. She’s fourteen, for Christ’s sake, and you’re married. You have two children. She’s a child. She’s probably closer to your son’s age than she is to yours.

(This is the part where I bury my head in my pillow. And scream. Extensively, and with passion.)

The book does make some genuinely good commentary on slut-shaming and victim blaming and abusive parenting. And on one hand, I can see why so many people find issue with the romanticization of the when I kissed the teacher trope- but I can defend it, too.

The book is in Prue’s perspective. She thinks she’s in love with Rax, so obviously, she’s not going to throw in some valuable moral at the end- because she’s too young and inexperienced to think otherwise. And sadly, there are loads of instances of child abuse that go unreported because the victims just don’t know better.

What I have issue with is how the school dealt with it, ultimately. Prudence, a child, has to deal with the consequences of the actions of a literal child predator. Sure, Rax ‘clears his name’ by cooking up some bullshit story about how it was only a crush and he didn’t encourage it, but you’d think other adults would know better and, oh, I dunno- dig deeper into it, instead of blaming it on a child?

“She says you told Mr. Raxberry you loved him and he held you in his arms and fondled you.”

Which Prudence denies, because, again, she doesn’t know better. She then goes on to say that they did nothing wrong. To which the adult speaking to her, in this case, the principal, Miss Wilmott, goes on to say:

“I’m not sure that’s entirely true… I feel that there are some aspects of your friendship that could be considered inappropriate.”

FYI, lady, he kissed her- multiple times (not that kissing her once makes him any more redeemable), and told her he loved her, and admitted to fantasizing about running away with her and leaving his family behind. Fun fact: do you know Prudence is underage?

You’d think that Miss Wilmott would maybe give this whole fiasco a favorable ending, but it turns out she listens to school gossip;

“I haven’t been at all happy with your attitude. You don’t seem to understand how to behave in school. I’ve heard tales of unsuitable underwear and then a silly romance with one of the boys in your class. I feel that in the space of a few short weeks you’ve made rather a bad name for yourself… I don’t know whether you intend to be deliberately insolent but you certainly come across as an unpleasantly opinionated and arrogant girl… I can’t help feeling that you’ll be much better off elsewhere. I shall try hard to engineer a suitable transfer to another school.”

And then she comes out with this gem:

“If you won’t leave, then I shall have to ensure that Mr. Raxberry finds another position.”

“No, you can’t do that! He’s a brilliant teacher.”

“You should have thought of that before you started acting in this ridiculous and precocious manner. If I were another kind of headteacher, I would have Mr. Raxberry instantly suspended. There could even be a court case. He would not only lose his job, he could find himself in very serious trouble. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

Girlboss, gaslight and gatekeep. The fucking trifecta.

Also, by ‘another kind of headteacher’, does she mean the kind of headteacher WHO DOESN’T LET CHILD PREDATORS ROAM FREELY WITHIN THEIR HALLS?

This bitch is out here blaming a child, a literal child, for the crimes of an adult man.

The only time Prue seems aware of the fact that Mr. Raxberry is actually a very shit person is her immediate thoughts that follow after she tells Miss Wilmott she’ll take the fall;

I so wanted to save darling Rax- and yet why hadn’t he wanted to save me? Had he told Miss Wilmott it was all my fault, that I’d got a ridiculous crush on him, that I’d made ludicrous advances to him? … I wanted to tell this horrible, patronizing woman how hungrily he’d kissed me, but I couldn’t do it. I loved him. I had to help him.

NO, SWEETHEART; YOU MOST DEFINITELY DO NOT.

And maybe I’m going overboard with all these excerpts, but here’s what Rax has to tell Prue, after school, following her expulsion:

“I let her think the worst of you, the best of me, just to save my skin. I said it was ridiculous talking about a love affair between us. I said you simply had a crush on me, and that I was just trying to be kind… You were brave enough to stand up to me and force me to acknowledge the truth… I love you… That’s why I had to take a risk and see you this one last time. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care… Every night when I close my eyes, I’ll think of us together in this car and how badly I wanted to drive off with you. I’ll imagine us walking hand in hand at the water’s edge… I wish I wasn’t such a coward.”

(I burrow into the pillow further. I’m trying to suffocate myself.)

And that’s where I think Wilson went wrong. Sure, Prudence getting expelled for something that was completely out of her hands is unfair, and horrible, but it’s real. That shit can happen.

What’s bad is showing Rax in a positive light after all that. If only Wilson had written Rax to not be the Romeo he thinks he is. Make him ignore Prudence, throw her under the bus in front of her face, instead of this star-crossed lovers bullshit it’s made out to be. Show your younger audience that Rax is not a good man. I’ve got a little over two weeks left for my twentieth; I can see why this is unacceptable. But I was a little younger than Prue when I watched Pretty Little Liars, and my only gripe with Aria dating Ezra was that Noel Kahn was so much cuter.

It shows when you scroll down the Goodreads reviews; you’ve got adults giving it one or two stars, and teenagers giving it four or five, with their biggest complaints being, “but Toby was cuter!!!”

Other non-pedophilia related complaints regarding the book include: Prudence being unlikable- which I didn’t really notice, considering she reacted to some people way better than I would’ve, even at 19 (which probably says a lot more about me than it does about Prue, but oh well). Still, Prudence obviously isn’t the most prudent of people- and again, she’s fourteen. Look me in eye and tell me you weren’t an arsehole at that age (unless you’re fourteen now, in which case, I assure you that you’ll look back on yourself someday and go ‘wtf was I thinking’). Bringing up Toby’s dyslexia in an argument was low, though.

There were people who thought the Kings’ almost-Amish lifestyle was exaggerated and unrealistic, but I assure you, it may very well be real. There are 8 billion people on the world- it’s fair to assume that several of them are complete weirdos.

Grace was a sweet character, and I adored her with every fiber of my being. As were her friends Iggy and Figgy. Honestly, I would’ve loved a book about Iggy, Figgy and Piggy’s (mis)adventures too.

[antmarco]

Reading an article speculating on why ADHD is particularly prevalent among trans people, and it started with explaining this theory of how ADHD can develop from a genetic predisposition due to stressors in childhood, from this book "Scattered Minds". The main one being the child's primary caregiver not being able to respond consistently to the child's distressed emotional states, which in turn interferes with the child's ability to emotionally attune to others. Leading the child to feel chronically isolated and as though they cannot be understood, and struggling to regulate their own emotions.

My mum has been very responsive to all my emotional states my entire life. I am very capable of reading other's feelings, and struggle with social media like discord bc I don't get the tone of voice, facial expressions, or body language that I usually rely on to understand a person's meaning. I am a very in-person socialising person.

I was diagnosed with Combined type ADHD after a session with a psychiatrist in which I had multiple examples for every single diagnostic criteria. I don't "lack baseline security" or have an "internal narrative of isolation", I struggle with maintaining friendships, like a lot of people with ADHD, but I am so emotionally close with my immediate family, even if they're a bit painful when it comes to understanding trans stuff, I've always had a sense of emotional security.

I'm sure there are ADHD people who really struggle with understanding others' emotions etc, but I don't think that's what makes you ADHD ???? Can't really take the trans part of the article seriously with the completely unrelatable ADHD-origin premise it's basing it's ideas on

[hollenka99]

A Mislabeled Hourglass

Summary: Fundy grows up faster than Wilbur was expecting but he is going to make the most of his son’s shorter childhood regardless.

Warnings: Mentions of hunting animals, implied character death

Wilbur is no stranger to growing up faster than most. In the midst of learning survival skills as a child, he was still able to play to his heart's content. His mum, and later Phil, never cared too much if he got dirty. Kids will be kids. Despite that, his first experience with grief is at 6, he causes an animal's death sooner than most would and he dies himself for the first time at the age of only 9 (stupid accident, he should have watched his step). He is perhaps 8 when Phil gives him his first taste of independence. At 11, Tommy enters their life and makes him a big brother. Phil's day trips gradually get more frequent, sometimes stretching out for longer durations too. Whenever it's just him and Tommy, he has to be responsible, has to play a more adult role despite being in his early teens when it becomes a noticeable habit. Then Technoblade shows up. You could argue that from around 17 or 18, Wilbur is practically becomes a young carer on a full time basis. However, this accelerated maturation was all mental. The earth had gone around the sun once when he spoke his first word, five times when he began deciphering sequences of letters as words, ten times when Phil told him what to expect over the next several years and it had completed its 19th revolution shortly before Fundy came into the world. Fundy was... different. First of all, he was a shapeshifter so right off the bat, he was never going to look fully human. Sally had fins and naturally red hair. Fundy was born with a substantial amount of ginger hair and ears that seemed slightly more pointed than they should be. When his son gets older, it will become apparent that his senses are stronger than Wilbur's too. Speaking of Fundy getting older... Wilbur has a hunch that something isn't quite right when his baby rapidly outgrows clothes meant for his age group. He initially dismisses it as Fundy likely inheriting his ridiculously tall genes. Because what else could it be, right? Then he is crawling at 2 months old. Wilbur's far from a baby expert but he's sure infants don't become that mobile that soon. A month or so later, Fundy takes his first clumsy steps towards him. Now that? Yeah, that undoubtedly raises alarm bells. He knows for a fact that that milestone was for those around 12 months old. Okay yep, something was definitely up. The books say Fundy should have been introduced to solid foods by now. He guesses that puts him in the Bad Dad category, along with temporarily using cows to feed him when he first got Fundy. He'd defend himself by pointing out he didn't have formula on hand the moment he became a father and was yet to learn non-human milk wasn't actually good for the baby but those excuses don't seem credible. He knows he's been going about this blinder than he would liked since day 1 but the accelerated aging might end up screwing him over even more. Ha, imagine having time to settle into parenting a baby before they graduate into toddlerhood. It's fine, he swears it's fine. It just means he gets to start having comprehensible, reciprocated conversations sooner than most, not to mention going through less nappies. There are stumbles for the first week or two after Fundy learns to walk but his son soon gets the hang of it. Only days after his first steps comes his first word. Noisy pattering paired with cries of "Daddy!" get more common. He could certainly get used to this. A one year old's way of running is potentially one of the silliest things he's ever witnessed. But look at his little champion go! When Fundy learns to crouch, Wilbur is crouching right beside him. Tommy comments that he looks and sounds like an idiot whenever he plays with Fundy. Wilbur pays him no heed because his brother is an absolute hypocrite. He has to say, Tommy is doing a great job for someone who was thrown in at the deep end just as much as he was and his brother doesn't even have the responsibility of having to care for a kid. He's always been a bit... rough and ready when it comes to playing with others. But with Fundy, he makes sure to be gentle around the toddler. Wilbur isn't entirely sure whether hanging upside down from someone's grip on a near daily basis is healthy for a little kid but Fundy's eruption of giggles each time suggest otherwise. When Tommy turned 11, he was not yet an uncle. The following April, he has a two year old nephew who complains he wants to help blow out the candles, nearly fighting for his right to do it instead of the actual birthday boy. It somehow leads to a pillow fight between them. So all in all, Tommy is taking it in his stride. By Fundy's second Christmas, Wilbur is able to start calculating. A 14 month old kid is supposed to be getting the hang of being bipedal, not receiving books that will help them learn how to read. Given that his son was walking at 3 months old, his best guess is that Fundy's development rate was four times that of other children. It seems consistent too since Fundy is approximately the equivalent of a 4 or 5 year old boy now. He recalls Sally once joking about how shapeshifters tended to live fast and die 'young'. He thinks he gets what she means now. Quadruple speed for Fundy though? Fuck. If he's got the maths right, they will be the same physical age when Wilbur is 25. The gap will only grow more and more from then on. At 30, he will have a child who is roughly 40. And when Wilbur himself is 40... he'd rather not dwell on the heartache his early 40s are set to bring. He has been given a 60 second hourglass that's been labelled as a 4 minute one. He's begun to comprehend this with 2 seconds' worth of sand already piling at the bottom. What is he even supposed to do? Does he bake a birthday cake every January, April, July and October 10th or just that last date? He guesses that will be for Fundy to decide in the future. Tommy has made a 'reverse leap day kid' joke before but it really is based in truth. While still a small child, one of Fundy's favourite places to rest is against his father's chest. There have been plenty of nights where the little boy has fallen asleep in his father's arms while being read a story. He's rapidly getting bigger and Wilbur frequently has to adapt how he holds him to accommodate. In the quietest of moments, his eyes will notice a tiny mischievous smile directed at him that will make his day or his ears will catch the softest of snores coming from beside him. As much as he tries to enjoy those occasions, peace often leads to a chance for overthinking to take place. When that happens, it all turns bittersweet with the desperate wish he could get several years of this, not feel lucky if he gets more than 2 or 3 of them. Of course, every time Fundy is resting against his chest is not necessarily positive. There are obviously the typical 'toddler having a breakdown because they scraped their knee' type stuff. Those are fine, all he has to do is soothe him and distract from what is usually an overthought 'injury'. But then there are the times where Fundy's fingers ache from the ordeal of slowly developing claws, Wilbur lets him dig his nails into his jumpers as hard as he feels the need to. The same happens whenever there is any significant growth with his ears too. The older Fundy gets, the more used to the flat of a small head pressing into his chest he becomes. He would do anything to alleviate his pain and discomfort if he could. And no, he definitely hasn't shed a tear or two when nobody is watching in regards to the matter. From here on in, it feels like he's on home soil. He's helped raise a kid from the age of 4 before. The only difference now is that this kid is his own flesh and blood. And a shapeshifter, which Tommy never was. They've begun entering the "Dad, look what I can do!" phase of Fundy's life, now that he is getting more capable with age. The first major instance is when he comes home from a hunt. Tommy has a smug look on his face and Fundy seems seconds from exploding with excitement. His son is let loose on him as soon as he's freshened up, dragging him to a chair where he is made to listen to the most drawn out reading session he has ever experienced. But Wilbur can't help but beam every time Fundy successfully gets through a word. The day he believes Fundy is old enough to start learn how to use a bow can't come soon enough. He knows fuck all about hybrids or shapeshifters other than the very basics. He can't tell you how to construct the most impressive of architectural structures. But this, archery and hunting? Now that he can impart wisdom on. He passes down second hand stories about Fundy's grandma and anecdotes about his trips with Phil when he was a young boy himself. As far as he can tell, Fundy laps it all up. Swordplay is soon added to the mix of training activities. The wooden sword he crafted for his son is slightly too big but eh, the kid will quickly grow into (then inevitably out of) it sooner than later. They gradually work up from technique and stance to improving accuracy and striking moving targets. Every bit of progress he makes, his dad is there cheering him on. Fundy only grows reluctant when it begins to get 'real'. That is to say, when Wilbur tries to take him on an actual hunt or attempts to introduce him to the subject of turning a kill into a meal. And yeah, he gets it. He wasn't the biggest fan of it either when he was being taught himself. Plus, he's aware Fundy's nose is more sensitive than his or Tommy's so yep, preparing a body's going to be even less pleasant for him. It's unfortunately a part of this sort of life. There's... well, there's always the option of heading down to the butcher's in town. Just keep in mind who got his first girlfriend indirectly due to the fact her dad would always give him money for helping supply produce. You've been doing great though. The important part is you're learning how to survive on your own if need be, not to mention how to defend yourself in case of an attack. Another part of Fundy's development to make him gush with pride is when he starts to really hone his shapeshifter nature. It's small at first, a furrier hand transforming into a paw here, a lump of a half formed tail spotted underneath a dressing gown there. He can't really describe how happy it makes him to see a child with a fox's head greet him one morning when Fundy jumps out from behind a door. There are features the young shapeshifter will keep in his human form obviously. Yet it's thrilling to have him keep coming over to show off a new shifting-related ability. The first time Fundy manages to morph fully into a fox, during the spring after his 2nd birthday, Wilbur promises the three of them can have an 'anything Fundy says, goes' type thing the following day in celebration. There are times where Fundy may, for instance, forget to include his tail as an animal or he'll walk around as his usual self, albeit with accidental fox eyes. It's simply a matter of practise, Wilbur believes. One of the best parts of Fundy gradually improving his shapeshifting is the fact he loves to curl up on his dad's lap while in fox form. Wilbur cherishes it. Fundy's getting older now (taller too, this kid is undoubtedly going to be at least 6 foot one day) but he'll always be smaller as a fox than as a human. Forgive a father with limited time to enjoy carrying his son around for wanting to prolong the inevitable. Fundy is 3 when he physically catches up with Tommy, age wise. It's not until he is the equivalent of maybe 15 that he passes his uncle's height. Tommy complains about it incessantly, especially whenever Fundy teases him about how much taller he's getting. It's all fun and games but Wilbur was an unusually large teenager once (only a few years ago really, though let's not dwell on that) so he understands what it's like. Going through growth spurts is hardly the most enjoyable thing out there and he can't imagine how it must feel to keep getting hit by them with even less time to settle into your new height. Not to mention growing pains. During a quiet evening, he checks in on his son and approaches the subject. It leads to him allowing Fundy to rant about the worst parts of growing up. Orange fur recedes on his arms to show a few stretch marks. Ah, he was wondering if the extra hair was deliberate or simply puberty taking hold. He assures Fundy stretch marks aren't something to be ashamed of. He got a bunch of them himself at his age. Although, they've pretty much all faded by now. It's fine, you don't need to stress about it. Besides, Tommy's going through the same kind of shit. The main problem with Fundy and Tommy being similar ages now is that they are arguably closer than ever. Which, no, isn't a bad thing. In fact, he's glad that for a few months they're able to hang out on more equal footing. The issue lies in the fact that Fundy takes after his uncle when it comes to causing mischief. The little rascal is turning into a bit of a prankster. And yeah, maybe Wilbur himself likes channelling hints of chaos into his life but you'll never hear the designated responsible adult admit to that in the others' presence. At one point, Fundy is a six year old gleefully explaining how Tommy helped him up so he could place that water bucket. Only a year later, there's an 11 year old revealing that yes, he was the one to make their chickens, cows and sheep switch enclosures during the night. He only gets more ambitious from there. God knows where he got all that dye from when he's in his mid-teens. Fundy is much like himself as a teenager. Both clearly love their respective fathers but both grow to varying degrees of resentment regarding the level of independence they are given. Wilbur always had too much. It was his job to take care of Tommy whenever Phil left on short trips until the avian hybrid pretty much said 'well, you're an adult now, you can take care of things all by yourself' before heading off with Technoblade for months on end. It's why Wilbur knows kids want a safety net, for an adult to be there to help them out if they need it (no matter how mature or independent they feel). Has he taken it further than he should have? Maybe. Fundy is the only one who can be the true judge of that. He just wants his little boy to be safe and happy. He didn't want him to grow up so quickly. However, even if this was happening in 15 years, he would have grown up too soon. It doesn't surprise him too much when Tommy and Fundy make the choice to go off on their own. He only allows it because they promise they will stick together throughout the journey. He supposes it was time. Phil snuck off to do the same around their age and his mum was roughly 18 when she set off to be a nomadic traveller. The thought to live a similar style life has crossed Wilbur's mind. His duty to the two boys under his care has always made him reconsider. But Tommy is 16 now and not as much of a child as Wilbur likes to say he is. As for Fundy, he's probably around the equivalent of 18 or 19 by this point. He hates to admit it but they've both grown up. Where the hell did the time go? So although it pains him to do so, he nevertheless sends them off with a smile. If they find anywhere nice in their adventures, they'll be sure to tell him. He might even join them if they choose to stick around in one area. He turns back into the house after they leave and fuck, has it always been this empty? He gets a letter in early July, telling him all about this place called the Dream SMP and their time there. He arrives and things seem to snowball as soon as he begins the 'drug business' bullshit. Suddenly, he's a general with his brother and son as soldiers, along with some new friends. They are at a disadvantage in this fight against tyranny but it's okay, Eret says she has a secret weapon. They might just pull through. Or... they might instead be brutally betrayed by a former friend and lose so much more than their possessions. He loses track of his battalion in the chaos. All he knows is screaming for everyone to flee. Then the agony a sword through his stomach. Tubbo's dead, as is Tommy. Where's Fundy? He can't see him anywhere. God, please say he managed to get the fuck out of here. Please let it be that he turned into a fox and scarpered away, something like that. Never mind his dad. If Fundy's alright, he'll be alright too. He loves his son, has done all he was able to ensure his little boy has never had reason to doubt this fact. Over the past few years, that love has been repaid in mischievous grins, unrestrained giggles and drowsy cuddles, among other quieter moments. It gets repaid once again as a boy playing a soldier struggles to join the side of his pretend general of a father in order to loosely grasp hands. It barely registers. Neither does the tiny pained smile or ginger hair that go largely missed by eyes preoccupied with the vain effort to keep them open. They all celebrate the independence they'd fought so hard for the next night. The bittersweet nature of this victory goes ignored. With all the cheerful chatter and singing declaring their land to be one of freedom from tyranny drifting in the evening air from the campfire, it feels like the good mood will never end. It feels like the only thing that may tear the father and son apart is Wilbur's desperation for just a bit more time with Fundy as his little boy, despite how painfully obvious he was already grown up into a man in less than 5 years. Arm slung around him as a toast is made, they are not yet a debilitatingly stressed president, increasingly suicidal exilee or secretly loyal spy. For tonight, they are still a relatively happy, loving pair. For tonight, there is hypothetically still so much time for them to stay like that.

[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T.Shelby Imagine Ch. 15

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 8,982

WARNINGS: Fluff, Cursing

Summary: Aliena is doing better. She’s found some happiness again. But now she has a new worry, is she going on her first date with Thomas Shelby? 

MASTERLIST  CHAPTER 14  CHAPTER 16

A/N: This chapter is a fluff! Nothing but fluff! You guys deserve it ‘cause... It will only last for so long. Also, please check out this post-- it will clear up a lot of things and I’d love it if you guys could respond.

“Hello, my love!” I shrieked as I ran to Karl. I picked him up from his cradle into me arms. He was gumming his hand. I made all sorts of noises at the sight. It is purely because I found babies so adorable! I bounced him in me arms as I walked over to Ada, who was busy fixing herself up.

“Thank you so much for doing this, Ali!” Ada shouted. She was prettying herself up in the mirror. 

I shook me head as I pinched Karl’s chubby cheek. He grumbled ‘n swatted me hand away. I laughed as I replied. “It’s no problem really! I mean I am the Shelby Family’s maid, after all.”

Ada turned ‘round to me with a pout on herself. “I’m a Thorne now, Ali. I’m not a Shelby.”

I scoffed. “So, your brothers are not your brothers anymore. You’re a Thorne, afterall.”

“What?” Ada exclaimed as she was applying eyeshadow. “No, that’s not what I meant.” 

I turned Karl over in me arms as I sat down. Had him sitting on me knee, facin’  his mum. As I began to bounce him, I quipped. “Well that’s how it came out.” I sighed, defeatedly. “No, no. I get it. You’re a Thorne now. But remember Ada in the world that the rest of your family lives in, you’ll always be the sister to the big bad Thomas Shelby of the Peaky Blinders. Not to mention that you’ll be listed as a communist ‘cause of Freddie.”

“I’m not a communist by association, Ali. I’m an actual member now.”

I averted me gaze and gave a secret tight lipped smile. Karl lifted one of me fingers into his mouth and I gasped. “Ada, Karl has a little tooth growin’!” 

Ada scoffed as she turned ‘round while fluffing up her hair. “You don’t have to tell me that! I feel it every time I feed him.” I think she rubbed her breast, subconsciously.

We both let out a small laugh. 

She sighed before walking closer to us ‘n took Karl into her arms.

I wiped me finger on me skirt then dusted off me hands. “You still breastfeeding Ada?” I asked as I reached over to pull down Karl’s shirt that had ridden up.

She nodded. Ada was patting his back. “Yeah. I’m planning on breastfeeding him until he’s one. But, don’t worry like I told you when I telephoned ya— Freddie and I bought formula for days like this.” Ada handed Karl back to me and then walked off.

I rose to me feet and followed her into the kitchen. I’m guessing she wanted to show me where she kept the formula at. I held Karl’s arm me hand, and I waved it up and down. 

Ada reached into a cabinet and showed me the formula. She showed me how to make the bottle. 

I actually knew to make a bottle of formula because I helped me sister make bottles for her daughter, but I wasn’t confident abar it now. Different times, different amounts. 

After she made the bottle, she handed it over to me. “He’s probably getting hungry by now.”

I took it then we walked back into the living room. We sat down. I positioned Karl’s head to be in the crook of me left arm while his body laid across me lap then I put the bottom in his mouth. 

Ada reached over to Karl and smoothed out his clothes. She sighed. “He’ll drink that then fall asleep. When he wakes up, wait a little while ‘cause if you change him when he wakes up— it’ll all be for nothing.”

I glanced over at her ‘n nodded. “Okay.”

We fell into this comfortable silence as we stared at Karl. That ‘til I heard Ada suck in a breath. Me head snapped in her direction. She was red in the face. 

“Ada,” I asked. “What is it?”

She fanned her eyes before waving me off. “It’s nothing. I just hate it when I leave him.”

I gave her a small smile. I knew what she meant. He’s been her solace in crazy times, I’m sure. But, I laughed— hoping to quell some of her worries. “Haven’t you left him with babysitters before. Geez, Ada! I swear he won’t die on me watch!”

She laughed a little then finally scooted back into her seat. We fell into another comfortable silence. The clock and Karl’s gulping were the only sounds audible in the room. He eventually let go of the bottle and I brought him to me shoulder. I made sure to suppress the urge to bounce him as I patted his back.

“When is Freddie coming?” I asked Ada.

She hurriedly rose from her seat and walked closer to the clock. While playing with her necklace, she replied. “Any second now.”

Any second was actually twenty minutes later. Freddie ran in, grabbed Ada, and they both ran out of here like a bat out of hell. I scoffed to meself as I repositioned Karl in me arms. I was cradling him in me arms. I got up and walked over to the rocking chair Ada had in the living room. 

I just sat there with him as he was napping away. Staring at his face. It’s been such a long time since I held a baby in me arms. I couldn’t help but trace his features. But, he didn’t like that and started squirming ‘round. I stifled a laugh and muttered an apology. I dropped me hand and used it to support his bum. I patted his bum as I began to rock us. 

I debated humming a song, but I couldn’t decide which one. Plus, I didn’t want to wake him up. I decided to just look around the flat. It was little. Adequate enough for a little family with a newborn, in me own opinion. However, I could only stare at the room  for so long.

When I was sure Karl was deeply sound asleep, I rose to me feet slowly and walked to his cradle at the same pace. I held me breath, and when I was abar to set him down— I couldn’t help looking over his face. 

I felt like a mother who had lost her child…

I shook me head and laid Karl down. I wiped me hands on me skirt, then walked ‘round the flat. It had little life. Barely any photos on the walls, the colour of the walls were this muted grey, and there were hardly any furniture or utensils. It was like they were prepared to run at the first sign of trouble. But, it was theirs. 

I sighed while walking into the kitchen. I leaned against the counter, me palms were digging into it. Then, I folded me arms and was just with me thoughts. I was thinking abar Cillian Murphy’s filmography. All the movies he was in. 

It felt weird now ‘cause of Tommy. But, the two movies that stood out to me the most were The Edge of Love and Sunburn. The Edge of Love gave me an, probably, unrealistic idea of how Tommy was before the war. 

I smiled at the idea. I, subconsciously, raised two fingers to me lips. I looked down in shock before me hand slapped over me mouth. I stifled a chuckle which came out as a snort. 

I fluttered me fingers to rid meself of the absence of a ciggie. Then, I lifted meself onto the counter.

Sunburn was a movie I was fond of. A very young Cillian Murphy is all I need for me justification. His character was not very honorable, but when are men ever. When are people ever! 

The movie was flashing through me head, but it felt wrong. It felt dirty, in a way. Made me chuckle, not gonna lie. I didn’t even catch meself when I began comparing Cillian’s characters to Tommy himself. 

I bit me lip and hopped off the counter. I clapped me hands together softly before rubbing them together. “Let’s clean, shall we?” I whispered.

Ada didn’t ask me to clean, but I’d figured that I’d just clean up whatever I found. I wasn’t going to go into any rooms. Since that was an invasion of privacy. But, did everythin’ else. I dusted off the walk-in carpet, then swept up the ‘ole house. When I was done with that— I wiped down the tables in the living room ‘n kitchen. 

I raised a hand to me temple as I used the other to support me weight, all while leaning on the table I finished wiping. I looked over at Karl’s cradle and stood still. It’s not like I could hear his breathing, but he wasn’t fussing either. 

I tsked, dropped the towel on the table, ‘n then walked over to the fireplace. Ada and Freddie had a collection of books on the overmantle. I looked over the titles and chose the one I was most familiar with. Tess of the D'Urbervilles, it was. I had the biggest crush on Gemma Arterton and Eddie Redmayne, ‘n I watched a TV show they starred in that adapted the book. 

After watching it, I read the book soon after. So, this wouldn’t be me first time crackin’ this story open. 

“When was the last time you read a story, Aliena?” I asked meself as I brought the cross pendant to me lips and ran across me bottom one. It was the one Tina got me all that time ago. I opened the book and began readin’ aloud while slowly pacing.

‘Cause I only remember growin’ up in America, I spent most of me life with an American accent. I adapted the accent when I moved to me second middle school. I just tried it for shits and giggles, but found that me existence there was so much easier when I did so. I didn’t ‘ave to deal with people asking me to repeat meself every time I held a conversation. 

It didn’t help that me ma’ was the scouser while me pa was from Boston. The only reason I didn’t develop a Boston was due to me ma taking care of me for the majority of me early childhood. Me pa was working morning till night. 

I didn’t feel like a true scouser nor a true American. But, I can affiliate more with my upbringing in California. It’s what I can remember. 

Anyway, the point I was getting to was that— I do different accents. American, me own, Irish, Russian, and Scottish. I never said they were any good, but I did them. And I did them when I talked too much for a long time, or when I was reading.

I was in the middle of a line when I heard a little whimper. Me eyes darted to the page number I was on ‘n I hoped I could remember it. I threw it on the couch and shuffled hurriedly to him.

Tears were welling up in his eyes. I cooed and took him into me arms. “It’s alright, Ka-.” I cut meself off as I felt wetness on me midsection. I sighed and looked ‘round for extra diapers and towels. When I couldn’t find any, I whimpered and just had to take the bullet. 

I held him closer to me and practically ran to the bathroom. I shifted ‘round in there and found some. They weren’t really diapers, not in me own opinion. I set the clean nappy on the sink before getting the rag, throwing it in there, and letting the water get warm as I ran it.

I sighed while looking down at Karl. “Your mummy is a proper divvy, Karl. Forgot to leave your nappies with me.” I huffed while pinchin’ his cheek softly. “Let’s get ya changed, love.” I stroked his cheek as tears fell down. I felt the water and I deemed it warm enough. I turned off the faucet and wrung some of the water out before I held it in one hand while the other grabbed the diaper.

 “Okay, love. Let’s get you cleaned up now.” I was looking down at Karl the whole time as I walked back into the living room. 

Me gaze, finally, shifted up ‘n standin’ there was Tommy. A frightened yelp escaped me and I clutched Karl tighter.

“For-! For goodness sake, Tommy!” I shouted. I huffed before I continued me hurried shuffle over to the couch. I laid Karl down ‘n began changin’ him. 

“So, this is where you were. Had to find out from Polly. I need to talk to you.” Tommy said while looking over his ciggie. Titling it in his hand.

I scoffed. “You’d know where I am, if you’d let yourself have the time for a chat once in a while. Do you remember the last time you rested, Tom?” I blew a strand of me hair out of me face as I gave him a teasing glance. I bundled up Karl’s soiled nappy and held it up for him to take. “Go on before you ask me this favor, do one for me.”

With his hands in his pockets and leaning back, he scoffed at me. Tommy rolled his eyes before taking it out of me hand ‘n walkin’ away to throw it in the bin. Hurriedly, I took off me jumper when I was done dressing Karl then I took him into me arms. I was bouncing him in me arms by the time Tom walked back in. 

He cleared his throat, tsked, and then pointed at me. "I wanted to know if you’re feeling better.” Tom sniffed, flicked under his nose, and then looked up at me.

Disbelief was no doubt written all of it. I scoffed as I bounced Karl in me arms.

“Tommy Shelby, you-!” I scoffed again before it turned into a cackle. “You did not come here to ask me that! Why’re you blaggin’ for?” I continued to cackle long enough ‘til me knees grew weak ‘n I started folding in on meself.

Tommy’s tongue prodded the inside of his cheek as he tried to fight off a grin. He sighed loudly before walking toward me and the baby. “Fine. Ada expressed her worries to Polly the other day about you taking care of Karl, and I offered to come ‘n help.” He held his arms out and waved me to give Karl over.

I looked at ‘em up and down. “You? You are gonna help me take care of a baby?” 

Tommy gave me a look before wedging a hand between me chest to grab Karl. “I have taken care of one before.”

I threw me head back in a giggle. “Who?” I shouted. “John?”

He nodded. “And Ada. And Finn. And fucking Arthur, too.” Tommy turned Karl ‘round in his arms, so that Karl was snug against his chest. Then, he lifted the boy in the air.

“Oi! No swearing ‘round Karl. Ada will have us both for it.” I dusted me hands off before I wiped them on me skirt, and then I sat down. Tommy was still playing with Karl, throwing him up in the air. 

When I felt Karl’s head was too close to the ceiling, I whimpered. “Oh, do be careful!” He snickered. I couldn’t deny that Karl’s giggling was like music to me ears. It truly warmed me heart.

Tommy caught Karl one more time before he crashed on the couch and let Karl sit in lap. Karl began tugging on the lapels of Tommy’s coat. I watched them ‘til it was painfully that I was being stared at too. 

I met Tommy’s gaze and we held it. We held it for a while ‘til I couldn’t take it anymore. With me face heating up— no doubt, giving away me feelings, I jutted me head out with widened eyes before I started giggling. I rose to me feet and walked over to Ada’s phonograph. 

I picked a random record and put it on. “I can’t stand silence.” I said while not looking back just yet. I turned ‘round with me hands locked at the fingertips. “Are ya hungry? I can make you something.”

Tommy’s eyes flickered to me, but he looked back at Karl. “Have you eaten yet, Ali?”

I rolled me eyes while me hands dropped to me waist. I could lie and say no, but if I forced meself to eat— it could end badly for me. But, perhaps while I’m cooking I’ll get hungry again.

“No, I haven’t. So, I’ll check what they have.” I said while walking off. I looked through the cabinets and found some canned food. I could replace it another time. 

I was sitting down in a chair while I watched over the pots. I was waiting for the bubblin’ or whistling. I heard footsteps behind me and there was Tommy with Karl.

He handed him over to me which I happily obliged to. “Hello, little one. Your uncle finally decided to hand you over.” Karl just began to babble in reply. 

I looked over at Tommy, who had just finished settling himself in the chair opposite of me, and asked. “So, how is that tattoo of yours healing?” 

He finished lighting up his ciggie and said. “Nicely. I reckon that it’ll be fully healed within the week.” 

I hummed while bringing my attention back to Karl. Tommy got a tattoo some weeks ago. It was a rose intertwined with a horseshoe on his left bicep. I had a hold on Karl’s hand and I was making him punch the air between us. I made fighting sound effects as I did so. I leaned forward and made him punch me cheek softly. I threw meself back at the contact which made him laugh.

“How evil!” I exclaimed. “Why are you laughing abar that? Huh!” I hugged him as I pretended to eat his neck. His giggles never stopped as he flailed abar. I sighed and hoisted him on me hip as I got up. I walked over to Tommy, took his ciggie from his mouth, and handed him Karl. “Hold him, yeah?”

I put the ciggie in me mouth and took a puff. I used a spoon to check if the soup was burning at the bottom ‘n all that. As I turned off the stove, I took another pull. I walked over to the cabinet that had the plates and bowls in it ‘n took two out. I poured in the soup then walked carefully back to the table. 

I sidestepped, wiped me hands of me skirt, took the ciggie from me mouth ‘n placed it back in his before I took Karl into me arms. I walked back to me seat and settled down. I looked up Tommy who had just finished taking a drag.

“Should I be worried that you don’t cough anymore, Ali?” Tommy quipped.

I shrugged. “No?”

He scoffed as a small smirk graced his face. Tommy leaned forward, stubbed out his ciggie, and gripped the spoon. “Ya know, if I knew you were going to cave this early about my smoking and drinking— I would have saved meself the stress.”

I gasped, exaggeratedly horrified. “Do you know how hard I did try! You just go on and smoke the moment you’re not in me sights. Pssh. Don’t even get me started on your terrible drinking habits. You drink alcohol like it’s water! If I’m not the one giving you water, you won’t drink it!” I shocked me head and grumbled under me breath.

Tom snickered. “Watch what you say, Ali. What if Karl learns it?” He threw me a teasing glance before looking back down at his soup. 

I tsked. “I didn’t even curse, so shut your piehole!” I groaned loudly. “You’re so lucky that there’s nothing here I can throw at ya. And that you’re so far away!”

Tommy’s lips smacked before he asked. “So, you’d hit me with Karl in your arms? Show him your violent ways?”

Me eyes practically came out me head. I snorted. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you! But, yes. Yes, I would.” 

I focused back on Karl. I let him teethe on me finger for a while ‘n I was just watchin’ him. I was just reminiscing that fact that me baby niece used to do that same when she was younger. I mean, of course she did, she was a baby herself!

I shifted me eyes back at Tommy’s and he did the same. A snicker escaped the both of us.

Tommy and I ended up taking care of Karl for abar three more hours. It definitely was a sight. I mean I knew he cherished family a lot, but I never thought of him as a “family man.” I just didn’t think he’d help me out with Karl as much as he did.

I mean wasn’t it more of a big deal in the 50s and 60s? Abar the whole absence of the father in the family dynamic. The father figure just being the either overbearing brute or the couchpotato? I don’t know. All I can say is that we both tuckered out Karl. Once he was asleep— Tommy and I caught up a little more. Just talked abar the simple stuff.

Right now, I was busy adding up some numbers in the shop while Polly was talkin’ to me. 

“I’m just saying! When are you gonna be bringing home a lad?” She was smiling down at me while nursing a ciggie.

I rolled me eyes as I smiled too. I scoffed. “Polly, I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s not for me own lack of trying!”

Polly shoved me shoulder while she whispered. “It’s ‘cause you still fancy Tommy.”

Me head flashed to her direction as I stifled a loud gasp. I swatted her leg as I exclaimed. “Polly!” I resorted to spluttering for words as she cackled. Me hands were covering me forehead. I sighed deeply. “I’m tryin’, Pol. I really am. I’m trying to stop caring for him.”

I dropped me hands and looked up at her. I gave her a solemn smile to which she did the same. Polly tsked before she hopped off me desk ‘n caressed me cheek with her thumb. Polly awed before she cradled me head to her stomach.

She whispered. “You’re too good for him anyway. My sweet little one.”

I didn’t dare stop the smile that took over me face. 

“Aliena!” 

Polly and I detached from each other to see who was calling out to me. 

“Aliena, Tommy sent me to come fetch ya!” Finn shouted with a red face. 

Polly and I both sighed. We gave each other a look. A look that said, “This damn kid. Shoutin’ like we were miles away from ‘em!”

I rose to me feet and before I could start tidying up me station, Polly took me face in her hands. “Go on.” She said. “I’ll take care of this.”

I gave her a quick grin as I reached for me coat.

“God only knows what he wants with you this time!” Polly chimed as she dusted off the shoulders of me coat. Polly stepped over to Finn, licked her thumb, and wiped the dirt off his face. He shirked away while I cackled at his expression.

I sighed as I tugged on me gloves. “C’mon, Finn! Can’t have your brother waitin’ long or he’ll throw a fit.” When I was done, I put me hand on Finn’s shoulder and we began our journey.

When we were some ways away from the shop, I decided to break our little silence. 

“So, Finn,” I began. “are you still studying?”

He began to groan exaggeratedly while he attempted to rest his head on me shoulder. I scoffed.

“All right!” I shouted. “Just remember, Finn. I’m not the one you’re hurtin’.” Under me breath, I muttered. “At least you know how to read and write.” I looked back at him. Finn was already me height. We were standing shoulder to shoulder. “Oh, come ‘ere you!” 

I threw me arms ‘round his shoulders ‘n pretended to put him in a headlock. 

He protested, more like begging me to stop. I didn’t stop teasing ‘em ‘til we got to the office, company headquarters, whatever. Just a few men work here. Men who were intelligent enough to handle the legal stuff and keep their mouths shut.

Finn and I marched right to Tommy’s office. Finn knocked on the door and Tommy shouted for us to come in. 

“I brought her, Tom.” Finn said as he took off his cap. Looking just like the eager little lad he was. 

Tom looked up at us. “Good job, Finn. Now, piss off.” Tommy motioned to the door with his ciggie. “Aliena, come here.”

I turned to Finn and pinched his cheek before walking over to sit in a chair. I settled meself while taking off me gloves. I let out a deep breath before I asked. “So, what am I doing ‘ere, Tom?”

He didn’t answer me yet. He was still working on whatever paperwork that was in front of him. So, I took in his appearance.

Tommy looked tired yet not. Like a boy who was not gonna admit to being tuckered out since he was having so much fun. He wasn’t any thinner or bigger. So, I think that’s a good sign. Tommy had his coat hanging, but his suit jacket is draped ‘round his chair. 

I looked away after a couple of seconds of staring. I resorted to admiring me fingernails and humming a random song. 

When Tommy, finally, cleared his throat— me head snapped back to him. “I had Finn get you ‘cause I wanted to tell you…” Tommy intertwined his fingers as he leaned back into his chair. “That I’m taking a day off tomorrow.”

I blinked.

And then I began to blink rapidly. 

And then me hand slapped over me mouth as I tried to desperately stifle me laughter. 

Very strainiously, I asked. “Why the fuck did you need to tell me abar this?” I giggled loudly. I took a deep, calming breath before I sat up straight ‘n looked Tommy in the eyes. He had such an amused look on his face. “I was fucking working, Tom! What the hell is this about?”

Tom leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the desk. “It’s simple. I’m taking a day off to rest and I want you to rest with me. Tomorrow’s your day off too, so unless you have plans… You should be available to join me.”

I can’t deny that me eyes widened a little before me face contorted in confusion. “What are you up to Thomas Shelby? Huh? Why aren’t you planning a boy’s getaway or somethin’?” 

Tommy averted his gaze to the left while dropping his jaw a smidgen ‘n widening his eyes. “Because I want to spend the day with you.” 

I glared at him. I trusted this as much… You know what, I don’t have a metaphor for this feeling. It felt like he was asking me out on a date, but he wasn’t asking me out— like directly! Tommy would have explicitly said this was a date, no? I think he just wants to hang out then.

I sighed as I fell back into the chair. I rested me right elbow on the arm of the chair and rubbed me forehead. Me eyes flickered to Tommy’s. “Fine. Yeah, alright.” 

Tommy pursed his lips a little before he nodded. “Good, it’s settled then. Be ready by 10.”

I scoffed, me jaw dropped dramatically. “Is Tommy Shelby plannin’ on sleeping in?”  

He rolled his eyes as he muttered. “Shut up.”

I stuck me tongue out at him and then relaxed again. “So, is there a dress code for this occasion or what?”

Tommy rubbed his fingers together as his gaze dropped to the side. He looked back at me and said. “I could care less. Just don’t come in your work clothes.”

I glared at him again. Me gaze dropped to his little bar cart as I asked. “Do you have a plan as to what tomorrow entails?” I started picking at me skirt. Picking it up and smoothing it out repeatedly.

Tom tutted. “I was thinking we would walk around London. I’ll take you shopping or something like that. Then at 12:30, we are going to eat at a fancy restaurant called The Barge.” He gave me a pointed look as he continued. “Is that alright with you?” 

I gave him a tight-lipped smile as I nodded. I tsked and sighed as I rose from the chair. “Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow. At 10. Not wearing me work apparel.” I turned ‘round and waved him with the back of me hand. “Night, Tommy!”

“Night, Ali.”

I had a smile on me face the whole walk home. I couldn’t help it. It felt like a date. 

It felt like a date. But, it wasn’t. Right?

I ran into the house ‘n immediately darted for the phone. I phoned Cassie. 

“Ali, what’s up?” Cassie asked once the operator put me through.

I stumbled with me words. I didn’t know how to phrase this. The word “date” just kept running through me mind. “I-uh! So, Tommy…”

“Dear God, Ali! Did you both get into another fight? I told you I didn’t want to hear it if this happened again!”

I scoffed and shouted. “No! Cassie, no! We didn’t get into a fight. On the contrary, Tommy has asked me to spend tomorrow with him.” 

Cassie got quiet. “What?” She whispered.

“Yeah.” I said breathily. I brought one of me hands up to me forehead. “He didn’t explicitly ask me out. Like he didn’t say the word date, but it feels like he asked me out on one.” I squealed as quietly as I could into the phone. “Oh, Cassie! What if this is actually it?” 

Cassie sighed, quite defeatedly— might I add. “Aliena, sweetie. Let’s not throw this out of proportion just yet. Did he tell you this was a date?”

I sighed as I turned ‘round and rested against the wall. “No.” I quipped childishly.

“Then, it’d be safer for you to go in this without that kind of mindset.” 

There was a silence between us.

“I don’t want you to get excited then get your feelings hurt, Ali.”

I tsked as I closed me eyes and held me forehead again. I ran that same hand through me hair as I said. “Yeah, your… You’re right.” I shook me head as if I was shaking those thoughts out of me head. “So, ever heard of The Barge?”

Cassie scoffed. “Of course, I have. I go there sometimes for seafood.” 

I hummed. “Okay. Well, what kind of setting is it? Actually, don’t answer that. Lemme guess, aristocratic.”

Cassie laughed, dryly. “That’s a nice way of saying only rich people eat there. But yeah, it is. So, I would suggest wearing something semi formal. You know something that would not-!”

I rolled me eyes. “Yeah, I know what semi formal is, Cass. I wear something that would make Angie suck her teeth, but not tell me to go and change.”

“That sounds good.”

I huffed before saying, “Thank you for helping me. And bring me back down to Earth.”

“Anytime, babes. I hope tomorrow goes well for you.”

I laughed dryly while looking up at the ceiling. “I do too.”

I hung up the phone not too long after ‘n went upstairs to shift through me clothes. I had decided on a black dress with puffed long sleeves, a square neck cut, and a slit on me right thigh. I wore decent sized heels and I was going to keep me hair down. As for makeup, I was going to keep it light.

A nude lip, foundation, winged eyeliner, mascara, and some white in the corners of me eyes. I was debating putting some white on me lids too. I decided against it after I tried the look out. 

The next morning, I woke up ‘round six ‘n made meself breakfast. After that, I took a bath and washed me hair. It was fucking baltic, la’, but I fucking did it! After I was done, I kept me hair wrapped in a towel as I got ready. 

I put on me matching black undergarments. Bra, panties, and I almost put on a garter belt— but then I remembered the slit in the dress. When I had those two on, I lathered me legs and arms in lotion ‘n then focused on drying me hair. I just kept wringing the water out of me ends as much as I could. 

I, then, brush out me hair which caused me to repeat the whole wringing me ends process. After that, I hurried to begin putting on me makeup. It took up more time than I thought it would since I kept fucking up the eyeliner. I’m blaming me nerves. Any other time, I’ve been perfectly steady-handed.

I threw me lipstick down and checked the clock. It was 9:45. I groaned exaggeratedly as I rose to me feet. I quickly put on me dress as carefully as I could manage ‘n then put on me heels. When I was done, I went back to me desk and brush out me hair one more time. I took a deep breath.

“I feel like somethin’s missin’.” I muttered to meself. I snapped me fingers as the idea came to mind. ‘Jewelry!’

I dropped to me knees and pulled out me box of jewelry. I debated between me ma’s set and me papa’s set. I, ultimately, decided on the pearl set. I struggled to put them on as I stumbled to me feet. 

I was putting on me right earring when there was honking outside. Jitters shot through me body. I took a deep breath. I finished fastening the earring in and I smoothed out me dress.

I hurriedly grabbed my clutch and ran down the stairs. I was putting on me coat when Tommy honked for the fifth, sixth, seventh time. I huffed before shouting, “Hold your fucking horses!” I opened the door and flailed me arms out. “Jesus, Tommy!” 

I walked over to the passenger side, his head following me the whole time. I slid into the car with a loud sigh. “Good mornin’, Tommy.”

He didn’t reply. He was still lookin’ at me up and down. I gave him a goofy grin in return. 

Tommy cleared his throat. “Good morning, Aliena.” And with that, he started up the car again ‘n we were out.

I fiddled with me coat as I asked. “So, where are we headed first?”

Tommy scoffed while tilting his head to the side. “ How about you stop worrying about it and you just sit there ‘n look pretty.”

I rolled me eyes and tried to stop the smile that wanted to envelope me face. I cocked me eyebrow as I looked at him. “So! You think I looked pretty.” I teased in a sign-song tone. I threw me head back as I laughed. But, then I quickly sobered up and said. “You can’t take it back!” I looked back down, picking at me coat while humming.

Tommy looked at me, emotionlessly. I gave him a toothy smile in return before me hand smacked over me mouth and I looked away. 

Tommy sighed. “Do you ever not laugh?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know.” I tilted me head in thought. “Huh.”

‘When was the last time I didn’t laugh? Like I used to not laugh this much. Does it have something to do with my mental illnesses?’ I thought.

“Well, come out with it.”

I looked at Tommy and shook me head. “Is nothin’. I’m just a giggly person.” There was a short silence between us before I broke it. “Wait, ‘ang on a mo’! Haven’t we known each other for abar three years now? Why are you complaining abar me giggling now?”

Tommy replied, calmly. “I have aired my grievances before.”

I tsked while crossing me arms. “So, why are you still complaining abar it?” I grumbled.

Tommy looked at me before ruffling me hair. “‘Cause you still give me the same vague answer.”

I gasped horrified and scrambled to fix me hair. 

Eventually after a very animated car drive, we made it into the city. True to his word, we strolled ‘round for some time. It wasn’t ‘til I clocked some very nice looking shoes did we stop and go into the shop.

I tried preventing him from buying me the red heels, but he wasn’t having it. It was confusing the hell out of me, to say the least. And once we went in that store, we were going into every other store. I’d say he bought me like two new dress, four new work blouses, four skirts to match, two new pairs of stockings, and a necklace.

“Tommy! Enough now! What are we going to do with all these bags at the restaurant?”

Tommy gave me the most mocking facial expression as if the answer to me question was so obvious! “Stop fussing, Aliena.” Tom turned ‘round and motioned his arm in a wave, like he was calling someone over. And he actually was. Two men walked up to us with peaked caps.

Immediately, me hip dropped to the side and me arms folded. Tommy handed them all the bags in his hands then took the bags I was holding ‘n gave ‘em to them too.

Tommy cleared his throat curtly ‘n pointed his finger at them as he gave them orders. “Now, boys, take these to the car and drop them off at the betting shop. Tell Polly to put these in Aliena’s room.” He waved his hand, turned toward me, gripped me by me arm, and then we walked. 

“Why were they here, Tom?” I asked, slightly miffed. 

“Well, the more obvious answer is for protection. You know that.” 

I rolled me eyes. “Of course, I know that. You think I don’t know you ‘ave men following me ‘round sometimes when I’m out of the city with me mates. Well, I do. But, what I don’t get— is why they were here if you’re here?” 

Tommy sighed. “I only called them here, so that they would get the bags.”

I squinted me eyes and attempted to playfully put me finger in his face. “That better be the truth. Or I’ll kick ya shin.”

Tommy scoffed while throwing his head back. “Deal.” Tommy pulled out his watched and read the time. With his grip still on me arm, He sighed ‘n said. “Right, come on. Don’t want to be late for our reservation.”

I shook his hand off, to which he gave me a pointed look. “Don’t give me that look. Give me your arm right, will you!” I wrapped me arms ‘round his and we continued walking.

I could tell we were finally at the restaurant ‘cause of the huge ass sign. I let out a sign of relief. “Finally, we can sit down.” I whispered to meself. 

Tommy hummed in response. Not that I was looking for one. 

We walked up to the receptionist. They asked us for a name to which Tommy gave him and we were shown to a booth. A rather secluded booth. Red flags were popping off in me head, but I didn’t want to seem paranoid— so I kept it to meself.

Tommy motioned for me to enter the booth first, so I was going to— but I had to take off me coat first. Tommy helped me as I took it off. He held it for me and kept his hand out for me. I tucked me dress under me bum as I slid into the booth.

Another flag was raised as he chose to sit so very close to me. Hardly had any arm space. So, I slid over a little more. 

The waiter gave us each a menu and said they’ll be back when we’re ready. I looked it over and debated just getting a salad. Ya know for… Appearance sake.

Then, I saw there was a lobster dish and caviar. I was sold. I. Was. Sold. As for drinks, there is no soda! So, I’m going to leave that up to either Tommy, or I’m getting water. Do they serve apple juice here? No.

Because I was making jokes in me head, me hand kept flying to me mouth to both stifle me giggles and hide me smile. Luckily, I wasn’t audibly giggling. Time and place, Aliena!

I looked over to Tommy ‘n asked. “Do you already know what you’re getting?”

Tom sniffed before replying, “Yep, have you figured out what you’re having?” 

I nodded, but then I began to double-check the prices of everything. Getting the lobster dish and the caviar was like getting two main courses, right? It was, actually, pretty expensive. So, maybe— I should just pick one. Unconsciously, I started to nibble on me fingernail. Not trying to bite it off or anything, just biting down on it softly, repeatedly.

Tommy grabbed me hand and took it into his. “What are you fussing about now? Show me what you want.” 

I pointed to the two dishes while being hyper aware of the fact that he was still holding me hand. Oh, was I fucking freakin’ out in the inisde!

“Right then. We’ll order both.” Tommy let go of me hand and settled himself in his seat. While reaching for his ciggie case, he muttered. “Not like I’m paying for it.”

Me eyes practically bulged out of me head ‘n I had to will me hand not to slap over me face. I leaned into him and whispered. “Thomas Shelby, are we doing a runner?”

Tommy smirked as he placed his ciggie in his mouth. “Not exactly.” He lit the bloody thing and closed the lighter with a loud snap.

I furrowed me eyebrows in confusion as I tried to think of another possible reason. While I was thinking the waiter came back.

“Can I take your order?” He asked.

I was abar to say yes when Tommy cut me off. “We’re not ready quite yet. But, we’d like to order some white wine.” 

I rested me left elbow on the table, me thumb ‘n pointer finger were shaped in an L-shape as I used it to support me head. I looked at Tommy with an eyebrow raised. I waited ‘til the waiter left to ask. “And why are we not ordering yet? We were ready.”

“It would be rude to have our food be done first.” He looked at me, deadpan.

It finally clicked. “You doin’ a deal, Tom?” I asked, full with spite.

“A little one, yeah.”

I sucked on me teeth and looked away from him while I cradled me temples with me right hand. I wanted to be more upset, but I wasn’t. This was just typical Thomas Shelby behavior. I dropped me hand after I let out a calming breath. 

“Right.” I said. “So, am I to be eye-candy during this deal or do I have job? Have to seduce him or something like that? Follow him out of this place.”

Tommy shook his head as a little chuckle escaped his mouth. “Nope. You’ll be doing none of that. I’m just killing a bird with a stone.” 

I snorted at the expression. Me hand went to covering me mouth. “That’s not-!”

“I know.” Tommy quickly replied. “I asked you to come out with me today because you mentioned we haven’t talked like we used to, and you’re right. This was the perfect opportunity to do so… While sweetening my deal with Mr. Daniel Taylor.”

I smiled as I shook me head. I locked me fingers, rested both of me elbows on the table, and then rested me chin on me hands. “So, this is what you meant when you said I should sit here and look pretty.” 

A smile tugged at the corner of Tommy’s mouth. “Yes.” 

I watched as Tommy took a drag from his ciggie before I dropped me arms and straightened me back. 

It took Mr. Taylor quite some time before arriving. The wine came before him, for Christ’s sake. 

Tommy placed his hand on me back, signaling for me to stand with him. 

“Mr. Taylor, nice to see you again.” They shook hands then Tommy motioned his hand toward me. “This is Ailena Welsh, my companion this evening.” 

I shook Mr. Taylor’s hand ‘n exchanged greetings. I’m happy to say we ordered not too long after. I did just as Tommy told me too. To sit here and look pretty. I didn’t jump in the conversation nor did I maintain eye contact with the man. It seemed that this was “Danny” from season three. The future leader of the Birmingham City Council. Just like mentioned in the episode, Mr. Taylor had interests in steelworks in Cradley Heath. Tommy offered to help him get his products to carmakers.

That’s the jist of it. After tuning into those parts of the conversation, I focused on the expensive meal in front of me. I absolutely loved the caviar. It suited my tastes perfectly. I had to contain me joy, though. Didn’t want to look comical in front of the client, after all.

“Oh, we’ve been chattin’ up a storm, Mr. Shelby. I don’t want to leave your missus out of the conversation. How is the meal, dear?” Mr. Taylor asked me.

I covered me mouth as I hurried to swallow down the bite of scran I just took. I only spoke once I was sure me mouth was clear. I dropped me hand ‘n said. “Oh, it’s lovely.” I nodded me head for emphasis.

“How is the caviar? Have you had it before today?”

I shook me head. “No, today was my first time tasting it. I thought it was delicious.” 

“Oh, well. I’m glad that it suited your taste.”

I nodded and gave him a polite smile. Tommy reached under the table and squeezed me hand. Almost reassuringly. Luckily, after that little “inclusion,” the conversation ended ‘n it was back to only them. Fine by me, to be honest. 

It seemed that this meeting was coming to an end when a man walked up to Mr. Taylor and whispered something into his ear. Mr. Taylor stood up as did we. “Well, looks like I’m needed elsewhere. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Shelby.” They shook hands ‘n then he took my hand. “And it was nice meeting you, Ms. Welsh.”

I let out a little, “Likewise.” 

Mr. Taylor let after that. Me eyes darted to Tommy and I asked, discreetly. “He’s still paying the bill, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, thank God.” And with that, we sat back down. “That seemed like it went well.” I chimed.

Tom was busy lighting another ciggie. “Yes, it did.” 

Now I was busy debating whether to ask him if he knew there was a loo in this joint, if I should just walk ‘round ‘til I found one, or just hold it.

“If you need to use the restroom, there’s one for ladies ‘round the corner.” Tommy muttered. 

Me head snapped toward him. “Huh?”

He sighed before smiling. “I said if you need to use the lavatory, then there’s one over there.” He pointed to a door, which a woman came out of.

“Oh.” I looked back at ‘em with a pout. “I knew that.” I got up and walked to it. 

 After I handled me business, we left the restaurant ‘n began walking again. On the way, I had to beg Tommy to go through the park. I just admired the scenery, honestly. I’ve been in the park loads of times with the girls. But only the lord knows when I’d get a chance like this again.

I was walking a little bit ahead of Tommy. I was taking big steps while twirling ‘round. “Oh, come on, Tommy! Live a little!” I shouted as I was still twirling.

“I live plenty.” He rebutted.

I rolled me eyes as I said. “Boo!” I put me thumbs down for emphasis, but it ended up making me laugh. I twirled front and started teetering me head from left to right with me hands locked behind me back.

Just as I turned me head ‘round, a gust of wind blew through me hair. A very picturesque moment, if I do say so meself. If only I had a hat.

I hurried to fix me hair which made Tommy laugh. “Oh, do one!” I shouted. I swatted his chest once he walked up to me. Tommy was still laughing as he helped me fix me hair. I stuck me tongue out at him.

“You know. I’d say you are more petulant than Ada and Finn combined.” He quipped as he was still helping me.

Me jaw dropped slightly. “Isn’t that just a sophisticated way of calling me the biggest brat you’ve ever met?”

Tommy snickered with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Can never get one passed you, can I?”

I glared at him. “No. No, you can’t.” I shook me head before I bursted into a fit of giggles. 

After that whole fiasco, I made sure to stop twirling ‘n stuff. I walked side-by-side with him. I had a really strong urge to hold his hand, but I fought it. I’m just used to doin’ that is all. I hold all of the girls’ hands whenever we’re out. Angie tried fighting me off at first, ‘cause— manners. But I broke her down! Tina just went along with it, though. I’m guessing she just wanted to avoid conflict.

We made small talk, but mainly basked in the silence. It was nice. I was focusing on kicking a pebble when I heard Tommy scoff.

“What?” I asked while not looking up.

“What did the pebble ever do to you?” He asked in a teasing manner.

Me head shot up and I stopped kicking the pebble. I shouted in surprise since I walked ahead of the pebble, but sighed in defeat as I decided to just keep walking. 

Tommy shook his head.

I pouted. “You made me lose it.”

“There’s plenty more. Choose another.”

I pouted harder while crossing me arms. “No, that one was mine.”

Tommy sighed while shaking his head. I could see his grin from the corner of me eye which made me smile as well.

The moment we exited the park, Tommy made it clear that we were going home. I shrugged and accepted it. The car ride was, for its majority, silent. I had me eyes closed and I was letting the wind flow through me hair.  

I like it when the wind froze me ears. My comfort action wasn’t sucking me thumb rather I played with me ears. I played with me pa’s ears too. I missed being able to do it from time to time.

When I felt that we were near the house, I sat up straight ‘n opened me eyes. Tommy parked in front ‘n I opened the car door.

“Well, thanks for the day out. And for the fancy meal. And for the new clothes.” I was abar to step out of the car when I remembered a certain promise I made. I pivoted me body ‘round and kicked his shin.

He hissed. “The fuck!”

I cackled as I jumped out of the car. “Said I’d do it, didn’t I?” I skipped over to the pavement and then twirled ‘round to get one last look at him.

He was shaking his head. “Ali!” He called out to me. 

I threw him a mocking look. “What?”

He beckoned me with two fingers ‘n I’d be lying if I said that that didn’t have no effect on me. So, I walked up to his window ‘n repeated meself.

I stared into his eyes as he said. “Your hair looks better when it’s down. I wanted to tell ya that.” I blinked in response. Flabbergasted, I was. “I had a nice time too. Night, Aliena.”

I whispered. “Night, Tommy.” He started up the engine and I instinctively stepped back. I watched as he drove off before a hand came up to me hair ‘n I stroked a strand of it. A smile creeping up on me.

I ran up to me room soon after ‘n threw meself on the bed. Me thoughts were racing a million miles per hour. 

What the hell was today? Why did he decide to spoil me of all people? He could’ve taken out Polly, no? Or, his brothers? But it wasn’t just a free business lunch, he bought me clothes and a necklace. 

Oh my god, the necklace! It was a simple locket necklace, but it was jewelry from him, nevertheless! Whose picture would I put in it? I would have put me parents in it, but…

And I can’t bloody well put Tommy in it! Maybe I should put Polly and Cassie. 

I twirled a strand of me hair ‘round me finger.

Maybe I should start wearing me hair down more often. 

I grabbed me pillow ‘n squealed into it while kicking me legs.

You know, this could be boiled down to an inferiority or superiority complex. I have rich friends who shower me with expensive gifts ‘n maybe this was a show that he could do it too now.

I shrugged me shoulders with an facial expression to match.

Who cares. His attention was practically all on me today ‘n it felt like a date.

Even though, it really wasn’t.

I began squealing in me pillow again!

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston @nemesis729​ @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @tlfshelby1 @halepea @lilymurphy03 @marsfireeyes @masumiyetimziyanoldu @i-love-superhero​ @thatweirddaydreamer​ @xxbeckybeexx-blog

[orangerosebush]

(preface: if you see me confuse Sartre’s theory with Lacan’s -- or vice versa -- at some point: no you didn’t <3)

When young, you begin to become aware of yourself as a subject/a human being that is observed and interpreted by others as you are given more and more opportunities through socialization to create a picture of yourself — more opportunities to observe yourself from another perspective, essentially. 

Developmentally, Artemis sort of... skipped that stage. Or at least, he experienced it in a very limited way in which the range of ways in which he was perceived was also very limited. He had the Butlers (and we know he interacted with Butler minimally before the Fowl Star sinking, just as we know Juliet was training in America for half of each year). He also had his parents, through whom he sees himself as the Fowl heir. 

That’s really it when he’s young. As such, the desire to be developed as a subject through the perception of others is funneled exclusively through his parents — his parents and their validation of him as a genius, as precocious, as the heir, as respectable and low maintenance to people who matter

 (read: why Artemis is so well-behaved and reserved at home, yet — as of book 3 — a bit of a prick to the “waiters and tailors of Europe”).

Of course he has little interest in Saint Barts. There’s... nothing Bartleby’s can provide him in terms of that recognition due to the distance between himself and his peers, so why even go, particularly if he’s not even being intellectually enriched by the experience?

That’s why you also have Artemis feel both betrayed and unsure of his own identity when Fowl Sr returns and then totally rejects the old way of identifying the Fowls (and thus Artemis himself). 

Furthermore, this lack of consistency is largely why Artemis feels both so alienated from youth and unable to surpass it into adulthood — a lack of consistency that is further compounded by his father’s mercurial relationship with him. 

In book three, Fowl Sr. proclaims upon awakening in Helsinki Hospital that Artemis (age 13/14) is: 

“Arty,’ he cried, stretching his arms towards me. ‘You’re a man now. A young man.”

Yet (in the same book), Fowl Sr. later announces: 

“But now, speaking as a father, things have to change, Arty. You must reclaim your childhood.”

Which he then further complicates in book 6, during Angeline’s illness. He comes to Artemis as though he is his equal, begging:

“He turned to his son. “Listen, Arty, do you know someone who might be able to help? Anyone. Perhaps you have some underworld contacts?”

Though Angeline, too, complicates things, such as the symbolism one can read into the following exchange:

“Always so formal. Couldn’t you call me Mom or even Angeline? Would that be so terrible?”

She is either “mum”, and he is still an innocent, untouched by their complicated past that came to a head with the presumed death of Fowl Sr., or she is “Angeline”, and it is as though he is her adult child.

tl;dr artemis go to therapy challenge

[wistfulcynic]

biblio - philia

@courtorderedcake often sends me posts and picsets, which I love, but I know she’s hoping they might spark a fic and as I generally have fifteen ideas on the go at any given time, I don't always have the spoons to follow through on even a promising prompt. 

However. 

This little ficlet is inspired by this post sent to me by Court. It... got a bit emotional. I hope you like it ❤️. 

-

Words: 1.5k Rating: G Tags: modern AU, books, rough childhoods, some pretty sappy emotions, ngl. 

On AO3

-

biblio - philia:

“So what kind of books do you like to read?” 

Emma hesitates with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Um,” she says, then stuffs the bite in and takes her time chewing it as she tries to come up with an answer that won’t make her sound like a child.

 “I really like short stories,” she says finally. 

“Oh?” Walsh raises an eyebrow and it occurs to Emma, not for the first time, that he can be really fucking patronising. Why did she agree to this date, again? “Saki?” he asks with a smirk. “O Henry? Poe?” 

“Fairy tales,” she replies shortly, irritated by him pulling author names out of thin freaking air as though he knows them. Maybe he does, but that doesn’t make it any less obnoxious. 

“Fairy tales?” he says with a scoff. “Pretty princess stories?”  

Emma frowns. There are no pretty princesses in the stories she’s talking about. 

“Witches, more like,” she says. “Baba Yaga. Nourie Hadig. Vasilissa the Fair.” 

“Oh.” Walsh looks taken aback, and she draws perverse pleasure from it. He doesn’t know everything, much as he likes to pretend he does. “That’s—well, it’s not what I would have expected.” 

It’s not really what Emma would have expected either. She’s never been much of a reader. It was hard to be, bouncing from one school to the next, never really having time to settle in and form relationships with teachers and school librarians. No foster home she ever lived in had much to offer in the way of reading material, and she just never developed the knack of escaping into books. 

Not like Killian had. 

“Saved my life, is what they did,” he said, tracing the gilded title on his copy of Treasure Island. “When my father was drunk and my mum was crying. Liam made me stay in our room, said there wasn’t anything I could do to help. Which was probably true, but I could still hear them. I could hear—” He swallowed hard, gave his head a tiny shake. “Unless I had a book,” he continued hoarsely. “Then I could shut it all out, pretend I was sailing off in search of Flint’s treasure or taking the Ring to Mordor. Books kept me sane.” He looked up to meet Emma’s eyes. “I’d like for you to know that too,” he said softly. “That… transportation to another place, away from all things that trouble you.” 

She shook her head, her chest aching. “I’m not like you,” she said. “Words don’t—I don’t know, they don’t vibe with me. I just get bored if I try to read.” 

“What if I read to you?” 

“What?” 

His face was hopeful, his eyes a drowning blue. “What if I read out loud and you listened?” 

“Um, well—” She thought about it. About Killian’s deep, smooth voice telling her a story. About sitting, cosy under a blanket, and just listening to him. “—yeah.” She gave a small shrug. “Maybe, if you wanted to.” 

He smiled. “Let’s give it a try.” 

And still, Emma thinks, she’s never read a book. 

~

The date ends as early as she can manage it. Walsh drives her home, tries to invite himself in. 

“Best not,” says Emma with a tight smile. “My roommate’s probably asleep.” 

“Ah.” There’s tension in Walsh’s smile as well. “Sure,” he says. “Your roommate.” 

She wants to ask him what the hell he’s trying to insinuate, but also she doesn’t really care. She gave Walsh a chance and it didn’t work out, and—

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” says Walsh. “Maybe we can—” 

“I don’t think so,” Emma replies firmly. “I don’t think you and I are going to work.” 

“Yeah.” Walsh sighs. “Yeah. Okay, then.” 

He gives her a nod then turns to go. No further words are spoken. 

Emma turns the key in the lock as quietly as she can, creeps into the apartment on the tips of her toes. The television screen wants to know if he’s still watching but Killian is sound asleep on the sofa. Emma smiles softly as she brushes back a lock of hair that’s fallen across his forehead. This is a turnaround, she thinks. Normally it’s her falling asleep, to the soothing sound of Killian’s voice as he reads her a tale. 

She doesn’t think she can carry him to bed the way he does her. 

“Killian?” she murmured, nuzzling sleepily at his neck as he lifted her from the sofa. The effortless ease of the motion, the smell of his skin and the warmth of his breath on her cheek had her heart fluttering, her belly clenching with sensations she couldn’t bring herself to name. 

“Shh, love,” he replied. “Go back to sleep.” 

“But is it finished?” she protested. “How did it end?” 

Killian laid her gently on her bed and pulled the blanket over her. “We’ll read the end tomorrow,” he said softly, and she was sure she imagined the press of his lips on her brow as she drifted into dreams. 

They never do read the ends, though, she thinks now. The next night is always another story, another ending she falls asleep before she can hear. 

“Killian,” she says softly, brushing her fingertips down his cheek. “Killian, wake up.” 

“Hmmm?” he mumbles, sleepy eyelids blinking open. “Swan?” 

“Hey. You fell asleep.” 

“So it seems.” 

“I just thought you might prefer to do that in your bed, so you don’t wake up with a crick in your neck.” 

“Aye.” He sits up and rubs the neck in question. Emma gulps as she watches the cords stretch as he does, and the ripple of muscle beneath his t-shirt as he rolls his shoulders. “How was the date?” he asks. 

“Eh.” She shrugs. “There won’t be a second.” 

“I’m sorry, love.” 

“I’m not. I wasn’t that into him to begin with.” 

“Well, so long as you aren’t upset.” He’s watching her so intently.

“Definitely not.” 

His expression relaxes into a smile. “I’ll say good night then,” he says, standing and moving towards his door. 

“Good night, Killian.” Her heart twists a bit as she watches it close behind him.

~

In her room she sits on the bed and kicks off her heels, reaches into the paper bag that sits on her bedside table. A soft knock sounds at her door. 

“Come in,” she calls, letting the item fall back into the bag. 

The door opens and Killian steps in, rubbing at his neck with one hand and holding a very familiar object in the other. 

“We, uh, didn’t get a chance to read tonight,” he says. “And I thought—well, I thought perhaps you might be ready to see some of these endings for yourself. That you might like to keep this for your own.” 

He reaches his hand out to her and she takes what he’s holding, staring wide-eyed at the worn cover, her thumb tracing along the F in Fairy Tales. 

“But—” She looks up at him, dumbfounded. “This is your favourite.” 

“Aye,” he agrees. “It’s seen me through some very tough times. That’s why I want for it to be yours.” 

There’s a lump in Emma’s throat and she has to swallow hard around it. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I’ll take good care of it.” 

He nods and turns to go. 

“Killian!” she cries out, and he turns to her again. “I—I love this book,” she says. “I love it because you love it and because I—” She can’t finish the sentence but Killian’s eyes snap to hers and the look in them is ferocious. She grips the book tight to her chest and reaches into the bag on her table. 

“I bought this today,” she says, pulling out another book. The same book. A newer copy, with a tougher cover and illustrated with real engravings. “I was going to read it tonight, but now—” Now she holds his book against her heart and knows she can’t part with it, not for anything. Not for all the world. 

“Now I want you to have it.” 

“I—” He takes the book almost reverently, eyes shining as he runs his fingers over the cover. “I don’t—” 

“I want it to be yours,” she whispers. 

“Emma,” he chokes, and then he is pulling her close, his fingers in her hair and their books knocking against each other. “I’ll treasure it,” he says his voice thick and rough with emotion. 

The words he doesn’t speak are the most precious ones she’s never heard.  

“I love these stories,” she says. “But only in your voice. The words are beautiful but it’s you speaking them that transports me. I bought the new book for the words but it doesn’t have you in it. This one, though—” She grips the old book tighter. 

“That one is my heart.” 

“And that one—” she nods to the new book, clutched tight against his chest “—is my hope.”

“Your hope?” 

“For an ending,” she whispers. “A happy one.” 

He rests his forehead against hers and she sighs into his embrace. “Oh, my love,” he breathes. “That, at least, I can promise.” 

-

[girlwithacrown]

Remus Lupin 🖤 part wizard, part nerd

Remus Lupin was a strange child, not only in regards to him being turned into a werewolf at age 5, but even more so, because he was part wizard and part nerd.

The timid but restless child that he was, Remus taught himself to read even before it had crossed his parents mind to teach him. He would simply read everything beginning with his mum's magazines (that’s where he learned never to wear synthetic fabrics) but soon enough dove into her collection of muggle novels.

Soon, he learned to stay away from the books which covers depict a bare-chested man that embraces a fainting woman. And with Hope’s help he build up his own collection of more age appropriate novels. His favourites being all novels of the fantasy genre, of which his father did not approve, since they very much seemed to confuse Remus' ability to distinguish between the real magical world from, what Lyal Lupin deemed outlandish and horrific portrays of magic by muggles. Only to discover that some of the world's most famous novels featuring magic were actually written by very real witches and wizards.

In his love for fantasy books, one series stood out: the Chronicles of Narnia.

Remus loved the world of Narnia for the talking animals that would be able to join in the painful nights of the full moon. Of course, there was no such thing or at least no such magical animals that would be friends with a Werewolf and keep him company. He even snuck his pet guinea pig with him one full moon, and it was only years later that he realised that, in fact, Berry the guinea pig probably didn’t run away that night.

Remus Lupin founded the first Fantasy Book Club at 11 years old, the first meeting was attended only by two other people, Lily Evans and to both their immense shock, Albus Dumbledore.

Because Remus was devouring Fantasy Books like Ron eats chicken legs, he developed a set of strange mannerisms and life goals:

Checked all the closets in his house REGULARY for hidden world's and partly made the Marauders Map to catalogue all possible entry ways to other worlds

made sure to ask Professor Sinistra for life on the planets they were discussing in their astronomy lessons.

included references to muggle folklore and fantasy novels in all of his essays on magical creature, as well as in essays for other classes.

At 12 years old, when he realised he had feelings for boys (well, one boy in particular, damn that Black smile) but couldn't quite name it yet what it was, he wished he could just by the means of entering the closet on one side and exiting it to the other side, flee to a world that would accept him or at least don’t make a big deal out of it.

At 13 years old, Sirius Black was giving into Remus nagging and eventually started to read the Chronicles of Narnia - an act of fate one might add, since this gave him the idea to become an Animagus to be able to spend the full nights with the young werewolf. Needless to say, Peter and James never bothered to read the books but were up for the challenge regardless.

Years later,

after the war, Remus found himself back in his old bedroom in Wales to retrieve the books he once left behind. The dust had settled on them and he picked them up one by one, remembering the time he read them. Having them in his hands, he felt all the pain of the years of war washed over him, time that had been so bad that he had forgotten the carefree hours of his childhood and youth he had spent in the fantasy world between the pages.

“Are you taking them all?”, a strong hand brushed his back with a comforting gesture. Remus turned, a copy of the first Narnia book pressed to his chest: “Aye Love, I think I know some people who might like them”. He smiled as the love of his life pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “So you gonna take them back to Hogwarts?”, Sirius’ smile soft with the promise of a new life together.

“I thinks it’s time to reinstall the book club, don’t you think Prof. Black?”

“Aye, Moons, I think it is”.

For @whom-ping-willow 💙

[toss-a-coin-to-your-bard]

🍂🥧 🍄? :)

🍂: Make a simple autumn moodboard to show us your vibes this season! (or simply name the things you would put on such a mood board)

Ahh I didn't read this through did I now? 😅 prepare for a mood board in words/concepts...

[bread on a stick roasted over those portable metal fireplaces for your backyard]

[the smell of rain-wet leaves drying in the last warm summer sun of the year]

[cycling faster under the h trees because they throw their prickly fruits on the ground now and you forgot your helmet at home]

[the st. Martin song stuck in your head for no apparent reason and then you remember it is in less than two months]

[seeing children walking self-made lanterns with their guardians]

[only the warm light of candles keeping you reading a good book while it rains against the closed windows]

[baking with cinnamon and apples just for the smells]

🥧: Regardless of skill, if you could bake anything right now (pie, cake, muffin, brownie etc.) what would you like to make? 

I have a beautiful recipe for curd bread rolls filled with self-made plum marmalade and really want to make them again. They are screaming fall season to me cause I only had them around that time as a child ✨

🍄: Write a short essay about your thoughts and opinions on mushrooms.

When I was 8 years of age I had a summer-and-fall-long obsession with mushrooms and wanted to somehow show that creatively as was my standard reaction to my fixations. So my mother gave me her camera and took me into the nearby woods for me to take as many photos of a variety of mushrooms as I could find. I got a decent amount of photos, took them to the store that developed them (thank you mum for the money ✨) and made a mushroom book with my photos. As it was before the Internet I didn't know more about mushrooms after putting the photos in a self-made album but my feelings about those funky little non-animals non-plants is to this day full of fondness and the same awe I had 17 years ago. My favorite mushroom is still the fly agaric and I dedicated a whole summer holiday to the one near my childhood house so my fascination is strong ig lmao I may be more witchy than I previously realized???

Mushroom mushroom BADGER

[crunchyfaerie]

Trigger warning: Emetophobia.

I want to be brave.

I have emetophobia and I’ve had it for 20 years or more.

The fear of vomiting is disabling.

I want to start a family but I am just so terrified that pregnancy or labour will make me sick.

I guess if I had to describe why it scares me, it’s so overwhelming and uncontrollable. It burns and hurts, it’s disgusting and sometimes sudden. The feeling of anxiety and dread right beforehand. I feel like I will choke to death if I throw up, and I used to tell myself that my full reality and future will change and end if I throw up. That if I let myself be sick, it will never stop and that’s how I will die.

I guess I associate it with having a stomach bug as a child where I didn’t stop throwing up for hours. I’ve never had this happen again. I also think of the time where I woke up in the night with food poisoning at someone’s house which is my worst nightmare.

And I guess the part where I feel like it will never stop might be linked to a period of my childhood where the phobia first occurred. I had been going through family trauma for a few years involving my dad going bankrupt, my parents yelling at each other a lot, both of them treating me emotionally abusively and I had been through experiences at school where teachers had force fed me to the point of feeling panicky, trapped and sick. (totally different times and people, same traumatizing situation)

I had also watched my mum go in and out of hospital surgery from a disease and no one told me that it wasn’t life threatening, just horrible and painful (endo) they let me believe she was dying so many times. I had developed a very bad case of depression and anxiety by age 7 and had to be taken out of school permanently. About six months later, I got a really bad virus and while that didn’t last too long, maybe a week, it was around then that I started feeling off.

It was the night of my eighth birthday party after my friends went home, I remember reflecting on the day and then suddenly I just collapsed in bed, I had a headache and was convinced I had a fever. I just wanted to curl up and die. I felt super sick and stayed mostly in bed for months. My mind was really fuzzy and I shook every night in fear and got all clammy. I slowly associated this feeling and routine with trying to prevent myself from being sick, even though I wasn’t fully sure if I actually felt nauseas or not.

I could get up in the morning when everyone was still asleep. I made breakfast and watched cartoons. I read books. I went down to the computer room and played Neopets alone in the silence for hours. Then at about 10am, my mum would wake up and direct me to complete my school work which I finished by 1pm. I really enjoyed my education. By the afternoon though, I started to feel it. The heaviness, the tiredness. The anxiety and nausea. By about 5pm I got into bed and just lay there and stared at the wall. Shaking. Uncontrollably. Being clammy and feeling like I had a fever. Telling my mum I was sick because I felt sick. But I think I partly just desperately wanted to hide away and not have to see anyone. But as a child this presented itself in shaking and feeling scared of being sick. I kept staring at that wall and I didn’t eat dinner. Every night for almost two years until I met my best friend and something about going to her house which was quiet and calm, slowly made me able to eat dinner again and get back to normal.

But those years my gosh. I lost so much weight. I was miserable. I didn’t have friends because I started to realize that my friends kind of sucked, they ganged up on me and didn’t actually like me. They thought I was weird and blatantly bitched about me behind my back.

After so many hospital, doctors and specialist appointments myself, I was diagnosed with depression by a psychologist and my mum was offended and asked me “you’re not depressed, are you?” In disbelief as we walked out into the car park. I was terrified of what that meant and thought if I had whatever that is, that I would be a bad daughter. So I reassured her and told her that I’m a super happy girl so of course I don’t have depression! Eventually otherwise I got diagnosed with with a case of chronic fatigue/post viral syndrome. I know I did have this, but I also know it certainly wasn’t the only thing and it didn’t explain that night on my birthday. It never made me throw up, it just made me a bit nauseas and like super super tired and sore.

In fact, I didn’t throw up for another seven years until I ate a whole bunch of fatty food on one evening and it just came out again I guess, but I felt on top of the world the next morning when I faced my fear. I felt so good. Until like a day later when the fear came back. Same thing happened when I got drunk at 19 when I moved out and was very sick. I felt like an amazing super hero until a day later when my fear came back. These days it’s faded but still there. I eat extremely healthy to avoid feeling sick and I’m happy with that as a whole, but anything like the thought of pregnancy or kids or viruses absolutely terrify me.

Like, catatonic scared.

[flossy2003]

Trigger Warning: Mentions of characters getting abused/neglected, losing family members and having mental health issues, please scroll, if you’re uncomfortable with any of these topics 💖.

Edit- I added Zhan Tiri’s profile

Loooooonnnnnggg post-

I’m doing a Soap Opera/Modern AU for Tangled! This idea came to me, out of the blue at 3am, the other night and I’m in love with it 😂.

The main cast (Raps, Eugene, Cass, and Varian) are all teens, who have complicated and in some cases, difficult pasts that make them behave in different ways.

Rapunzel- Rapunzel lived a very happy life, with her mayor dad and autobiographer mum, however, it was also very sheltered.

Her dad was very overprotective, because of something that happened when Rapunzel was a baby, so she didn’t have much experience with the real world and grew up to be rather naive.

She was very popular, at school, however, and had lots of friends, as well as, a very handsome boyfriend.

One day, when she saw a girl called, Cassandra sitting on a bench, crying, she made it her misson to become her friend and look after her.

Eugene- Eugene was put into care as a baby, after his mother died and his father couldn’t cope.

He made friends with Arnwaldo Schmitz, as a toddler and they stayed inseparable ever since.

Him and Arnwaldo, who had decided to change his name to Lance, became popular in the care home, and liked to pick on Cassandra, who was labelled as a crybaby.

As a teenager, Eugene’s father decided to take him back home and make up for all those years they spent apart. Lance and Eugene stayed in contact and went to the same school, where Eugene met and fell in love with Rapunzel.

Eugene looked after Varian, who was struggling with the loss of his mother and eventually reconnected and looked out for Cassandra, after learning about her troubled past.

Cassandra- Cassandra was born into an abusive household and developed nervous twitches, from the age of three.

When her father died and her mother, Gothel, went to prison, Cassandra was put into care, where she was bullied and tormented by the other children, including Eugene, Lance and Moria Cane.

She started crying every day, begging for her mum and dad, refused to go to school, hit other children and had hysterical meltdowns.

The care homes were neglective, passing her off as a naughty child and not taking her PTSD into account.

She had a stuffed owl toy, she carried around, as a comforter, and would break down if he was taken from her.

At the age of twelve, she got adopted by Police Officer, Cap and Chief investigator, Adira. By this time, she decided to be completely mute, effected by her trauma. Cap and Adira taught her sign language to communicate, and tried to comfort her the best they could, whenever she cried or had flashbacks.

Eventually, Cap and Adira adopted two other girls, Kiera and Catalina, one of which, was also mute.

One day, Cassandra met a girl called Rapunzel, who wanted to be her friend and look after her, and she found that she wanted to be her friend, too.

Varian- Varian was born to Quirin and Ulla, and spent most of his childhood in a stable environment. However, when he was ten, his mother died, and his father got depressed.

Varian started distracting himself with science, especially alchemy and reading, however, he started to really struggle with his grief and felt like he couldn’t reach out to his father, for help.

He met Eugene, at school, and they decided to stick together, naming themselves Team Awesome. Eugene allowed Varian to come to him for help and talked to him about his grief, when his dad couldn’t.

Zhan Tiri- Zhan Tiri was a very cruel girl, who loved to bully others, for their differences.

She bullied Varian, after he lost his mum and didn’t stop, until Eugene and Rapunzel stepped in. She used to take his science books, pull his hair streak, call him names, spread rumours about his mum and even threaten to hurt him.

Then she started on Cass. She spread rumours about why Cass didn’t speak, forced her to speak, by hurting her, until she did so, made her jump, made her cry, made jabs about her nervous twitches and called her names.

Eugene, Lance, Rapunzel and Varian took Cass into their friendship group and made sure that ZT couldn’t hurt her, anymore.

That’s everyone and their plot lines so far! What do you think?