#THANK U GUYS FOR LETTING ME CHILL WIT YALL

[luvxdxst]

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐳𝐜𝐨

u and fez was jus kickin it back on the coach, well, he was layin on top of your legs and acted as if he was a blanket for u. typical fez. the two of u were enjoying a new documentary that was recently published on netflix. both him and u adored watching the life of young baby animals. to be real wit u, u never took him for such a soft guy based upon how he presented himself before yall started dating, but thats another story. the two of u planned to spend the rest of ur sunday afternoon, just like this until it was either dinner time, or ash woke up from his much deserved, and long ass nap. that was until a sudden ping erupted from his cellphone.

“want me to check who it is?” u looked down at ur lap to face the red head beneath u.

“nah nah, i got it” he rose up from ur thighs and reached over you to the side table on ur side of the coach.

u shifted back into the arm of the sofa as he looked down at his phone screen.

“betta not be one of yo side bitches” u jokingly whispered under ur breath, but loud enough for him to hear. u loved to tease fez, even though u knew he was the most loyal, and trustworthy guy u’ve ever met.

“and what if it is?” his eyes shift from his phone screen to up ur face w a faint grin on his lips.

“nigga, i’d fuckin kill u. lemme see” u reach out to grab his phone, which u successfully did, surprisingly.

“u wanna tell me who faye is?” u shove his phone in his face for him to see the messages that read:

custer

yo fez

da cops bouta get involved

n shits bouta go down

can faye stay w

yall for a few?

just til shit cools down yk?

yea man

wtv

ight thanks man

she on her way in a cab rn

“so?? who the fuck is she fez?” u shake the phone in front of his face, eargaly waiting for him to tell u why she was gonna be stayin here, and who the fuck she was.

he just sat there wide eye, staring back into ur brown eyes as he tried to find a way to respond.

“shit…” he rubbed his hand at the back of his nearly bald head.

“she custers girl, so she aint nun to worry bout ma.”

he tried to lighten the mood by reassuring u, but that just made u more frustrated.

fezco knew that u would be upset about another girl living up in yalls house, but he jus didnt know how to bring it up since u were in such a good mood, and he didnt wanna ruin that moment u guys shared bonding watching that documentary.

“fuck u mean ‘she aint nun to worry bout’ shes another girl whos apparently gon be livin under this roof.”

“shit, if i’d known u’d be dis upset, i woulda straight up told custer n-“

fez was cut off by u stating ur piece of mind, and boy he was in for a treat.

“yeah but u didnt. u didnt even bother lettin me kno that this chick would be comin up in our house any minute fez. did u even think abt what ash would think bout’ all this?”

it was the jamaican in u that caused u to flare around ur arms whilst u were speaking to let him know just how frustrated u were.

“yo can u jus chill out? lemme explain myself and stop bitchin’ for a sec.”

“u want me to stop bitchin? u know what fez, why dont u go fuck ursel-“

ur response back to fezco was rudely interrupted by the whoosh of the front door opening. yall both broke ur necks to see what the commotion was, and there stood a girl with blond hair, a bloody nose, and big ass lips.

“i didnt do anything!”

she looked like she had been through hell. u kinda felt bad for the girl, but at the same time still had hatred for her.

u decided to stay put on the coach while fez went over to talk over sum rules abt the house with her.

“yo, dont touch nothin, dont talk to ash, and dont go in my fuckin’ room.”

“i promise” she answered while wiping her bloody nose. u wondered how it got bloody in the first place.

“so u just not gon introduce me or?” ur arms were crossed as u questioned fez since u were still annoyed and upset that this nigga aint tell u shit like he promised he would.

as fezco was walkin away from faye to go finish eating his half sandwich at the table, he pointed in the direction of u and then proceeded to introduce u to one another.

“faye, this is my girlfriend, y/n. im sure yall met before”

faye bit into the half sandwich he had offered her a few minutes ago, and then tilted her head to the side.

“no.. i don’t remember meeting anybody with month old box braids”

she then bit into the sandwich again and continued eating as if she hadnt just insulted you.

“who the fuck does this bitch think she was?” u thought to urself. how she gon come marching into ur house and then insult u. this bitch was in need of a beating, thats for one.

“and i don’t remember meeting anybody who thought that ugly ass fillin’ in their lips was givin, goodnite.”

u stormed off into u and fezco’s shared bedroom and slammed the door shut, causing ash to wake up.

he stumbled out of his room and stopped dead in his tracks at the door frame, looking in the direction of faye. she then parted her lips and introduced herself with her monotone voice.

“hi, im faye”

he just glanced over at fez, and without sayin a word walked back into his room, slamming it shut just how u previously did.

fez knew he was just as pissed as u were; his face said it all.

“well somebodies in a mood”

fez just ignored the comment from faye and shook his head with an annoyed expression on his freckled face.

“ma?” fez knocked on the wooden door, before creaking it open and entering yalls bedroom.

he had got faye situated in the room she’d be staying in and warned her not to talk to u until she apologized for the way she rudely spoke to u. he would never let anyone disrespect his girl.

u were wrapped under the cozy sheets u had picked out and brought home as a gift a few weeks back, trying ur best not to sniffle so loudly.

“what u want?”

“i came er to apologize..”

he closed the door behind him and started puttin on his pyjamas, that happened to be the matching set to what u were wearing. fez knew that u were just a big baby under all that thick skin, u just tried ur best not show it even though he could always see right through it.

“i..i dont wanna talk to u”

ur voice ached as u sniffled in between each word u spoke.

“well ima talk to u anyways. u kno’ im used to talkin to people wit out gettin a response back”

he was referring to his grandma who he would occasionally talk to, knowing he wont get a reply from her.

fez slid into the bed and under the blankets which then caused u to instinctively turn from facing ur back to him, to looking him in the eyes. ur eyes were puffy which automatically let him know u had been cryin’ the whole time since u went in there. once again, tears started to fall from ur eyes and he just pulled u closer and let u rest ur face on his chest.

“im so stupid. i shoulda told u everythin’ that was goin on. and asked if u was comfortable wit lettin faye stay er’, im sorry mama.”

he knew better than to attempt to run his fingers though ur braids as u already had ur bonnet on, so he just rubbed circles on ur back.

“u told me u would let me in on these kinda things, u lied to me fez, u lied…”

u tried to push urself away from his chest as u felt anger building up in between those sniffles, but he just held u closer until u started to calm down.

“ima just hug u until u stop poutin’ so we can cuddle, cus i kno yo ass wants to”

u smirked into his chest, but he didnt know that. u just gave him a quick and sarcastic reply.

“shut up..”

#fez x you #fezco imagine #fezco one shot #fezco fluff #fiction #ashtray #fezco euphoria #fezco #fez x reader #fezco angst #fezco o'neill #fezco supremacy #fez x black!reader #fezco x black!reader #black reader #euphoria #first fanfic

[factual-fantasy]

Come get yall’s bread

Aww thank you! And I hope you have a great new years too! :}

When I darn well feel like it.

I don’t know how old Brown Suburban would actually be compared to Ratchet or Optimus, I’m just going off of the age of the actual cars. Which means that excluding A.T., technically Green Truck is actually older than Brown Suburban.

If I knew how old was considered elderly, and how old was considered young for the TFP transformers than I could confirm whether or not he was older than Ratchet. But I don’t so I’m just assuming that he would be.

Oh and the angst? Yup. Brown Suburban was supposed to be this guy that no matter which wrecker you spoke to, they would always say, “Oh yeah, that guy Brown Suburban? He was already a wrecker when I signed up.” He was like one of the very first wreckers, and saw a lot of them come and go. He saw Ratchet in his younger starry eyed days and he saw Vega back when he was popular on Cybertron.

He knew Bash Buggy before there was even a scratch on him. He knew the Dragsters before they.. well.. yeah. He knew Green Truck before his bleed out and Optimus before his lead, he’s seen a lot.

At this point I wonder if he’s sick of change and just wants something to stay the same forever. Just one thing that he can look at and find peace in the fact that it has stayed the same all these years..

Which you know, would probably be Brown Suburban himself. That thing hasn’t aged a day since the race track I’m telling ya! Its amazing what love, care, and being stored undercover can do for a car like that.

Well hold on now! Slow down there partner, this is Captain Barnacles were talking about.

This absolute teddy bear would never hurt someone out of anger or spite, even if he truly hated that person. Its just not like him, the worst he would do is give that person a dirty look whenever they were around, but he would never lash out and hurt someone like that, despite his supposed instincts. He’s just too gentle and kind for that.

And as for the being spiteful of Bianca’s mate thing? Well his dad left them too, all polar bear dads don't stick around for the cubs for some reason. For the Captain I feel like he would feel like its just a normal thing that happens in polar bear families. It happened to his own mom, him and his sister, to all of his friends and to their parents too.

Grizzly and polar bear dads not sticking around is just how things are, a fact of life. Its just what they do for some reason. I don’t think he’d be spiteful or upset really. Unless he saw that his sister was struggling with the cubs maybe he’d wish things were different? I honestly don’t think he’d think about it or mention it.

Green Truck is keepin his cheeks, but Vega is pretty unwell at the moment. More on that in a later ask. :}

Bruh, can you imagine.

If Captain Barnacles could lift up Brown Suburban? The Octopod wouldn’t need its engine anymore. Because the Captain could just push it everywhere.

Yeah I’ve watched every episode and all the movies. Fun stuff. :}

XD Nice, my friend and the existence of the Conductor is dragging me into the fandom by my feet.

Oh! No no no I don’t do commissions, nor do I ever plan to. As for why, I have at least 5 reasons off the top of my head.

I already have a job, so the extra money isn’t something I desire.

I have witnessed first hand a loved one turn their art into a job and then loose their passion for it, I ain’t about to follow in their footsteps.

I don’t even know how to do them, and I can grantee that what ever I need to do to set up a commission system would be too much for my peanut brain to understand.

I’m an absolute friggin idiot and would 100% get scammed over and over again because I don’t have common sense and don’t know how anything works.

I’m not a people person and wouldn’t know how to handle someone raging at me for telling them to pay me for my art

Not good stuff my guy. :/

Thank you! And can you really blame him? XD With his bizarre vision, things sometimes seem really strange to him. He can never really truly trust his eye sight and if what he’s seeing is correct, but that’s all he’s got to help him identify the things around him.

THANK YOUGHGHGHNN

Thank you so much that really means a lot when referring to my Transformer OCs because I legit put my heart and soul into these characters but deep down felt like they weren’t good enough because they weren’t appreciated at the level that I hoped that they would be-

Thank you very much! I sure hope its gotten better, or else all these hours a day I spent drawing would’ve been a waste haha!..

I missed him too <:}. Lol but he probably doesn't miss me though after what I did to him haha..ha..

I headcannon that Peso has a form of separation anxiety of sorts, and just anxiety in general. 

Peso grew up in a huge colony of Penguins, a lot of those Penguins being his close relatives. He was always surrounded by people who loved him and would not hesitate to protect him at all costs. Everywhere he turned was someone there for him you know? I imagined that he was totally relaxed in his colony, a completely different person to the one we know now. Totally calm and happy being surrounded by the safety net that was his colony.

Well, after becoming an Octonaut, his safety net of comfort and peace went from being composed of like probably 1000+ Penguins, to only 6 people. 6, that’s it. Just 6 people.  

His crew is tiny, and Peso finds safety and comfort in numbers. He didn’t realize it before but he does now, he hates being alone, and being in a tiny crew creates a lot of situations where he’s alone.

Because of this, Peso has a tendency to latch on to people in a way. Like he’ll be completely normal and chill when he’s on the Octopod, because that safety net is now the feeling of being safe and sound in the Octopod. But when he’s out on a mission? Or even worse, when he’s out on his own? He may hide it pretty well, but he honestly stresses out pretty bad if he gets separated from the group.

I feel like Captain Barnacles knows this about Peso, and understands it better than anyone else does. The Captain understands where his fear is coming from, seeing that he feels it too when he’s alone. That’s why the Captain tries to get Peso to go out on short solo missions when he can, to better help him gain his independence and get over his fear.

One of us.. One of us... ONE OF US... ONE OF US!!!

You know who would be a scary pair? Tweak and Escort. You put two brains like that together and nothing can stop them.

Tweak be coming out with the Gup-🅱 that’s like all of the gups put together plus its a rocket ship.

And then you’ve got Escort walking away being able to make nucellar bombs that are as big as tick-tacks.

Green Truck and Escort are doing wonderfully, Vega however... ehh.. not so much.

The plan to convert Green Truck into a welding truck has been tossed out. Looks like he’s keeping his butt after all. Also Green Trucks carburetor has been replaced and he is running SO much better. Really, he drives fantastically, and we’re really happy with the turn out. I’d say Green Truck is doing just fine in life right now.

Escort hasn’t had any recent upgrades however, actually he’s had some downgrades.. His driver side door handle came off and I think his floor leak maaay be getting worse.. But you know? His engine is still smooth like butter. His driver is very satisfied with how genuinely nice this little tin can runs. Escort is legitimately running better than I think he ever has probably. After getting his engine all cleared out he really is a neat and pretty reliable little car.

As for Vega?... Well.. if being a fire hazard counts as staying warm I’d say he’s doing great!.. But seriously, he is no longer road safe. You see, Vega has a unique leaking issue where the oil around his pistons evaporates into a vapor and leaks through his breathers. This oil then travels down towards the front of the engine and begins to drip onto the Vega’s headers. The hottest external part of the engine. Of course, oil + heat = serious fire hazard. The last time we drove him we were all holding our breath watching as his temperature gage was going crazy and just praying that this thing didn't burst into flames on the highway.

Basically, either we bring a fire extinguisher with us on joy rides and hope he survives the burns, or, we keep him cooped up nice and safe until we can fix his leak. His driver obviously chose the latter.

I’ve never been comfortable with people drawing my OCs. But because my Transformer OCs didn't have as much support as I had hoped, I made a list of fanart rules and forced myself to let people draw them so hopefully they would get more recognition. 

But if I’m being totally honest, I wouldn’t be very happy to receive fanart, no matter if the artist followed the rules or not. So I’m going to say that no, I don’t accept fanart of any of my OCs anymore..

Hank u! ♡●ᴗ●♡

Who are these babies? Oh just some of my beautiful baby boys of course. They are transformer-afied versions of these two real life cars as you can see here, I think you can guess who is who in the picture. :}

 As for an explanation to where they came from.. A while back I got into a show called Transformers Prime you see, and I wanted to make some OCs based of off the show.

So, I took 16 of my real life family cars and turned them into Transformers. Something I had thought about doing for a very long time. I took these 16 characters and gave them personalities, unique relationships with each other and back stories that intertwined and connected like a web. 

Suburban and Escort are conically best friends so I drew them a lot together back then. After the Transformer thing didn't work out quite as well as I’d hoped.. I eventually dropped them all together. But as you can see I felt the need to draw my babies again, so I did. :}

If you want to learn more about my Transformer OCs you can see the original post here that shows all the characters. And then you can search “transformer ocs” on my blog and find some art if you scroll past all the asks. (The asks have some info though if you want to learn more about them story wise) :}

#my response #transformer ocs

[matsumi101]

Who is this Kid?

Rabbles

Description:

Errands were as draining as they can get, but a commotion down the street catches your attention, fanning the dying flame in your heart and making it burn brighter than ever.

———————————

Warnings: I cant think of one other than a cocky man coming ur way

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Notes:

> Masterlist

> This takes place during "Farmer Refuted" in the year 1776 (we’re following the musical’s timeline instead of the irl timeline)

> I honestly just wanted to write a scene prior to you running off to war

> The irl Farmer Refuted was done through pamphlets but the idea of Alexander and Seabury arguing in front of a live audience is much more appealing dont u think

> Ages of the siblings are as follows: You are 18 years old, Elise is 15, Abigail is 13, and Claude is 9

> Yo thanks for 100 follows?? where yall coming from lmao

———————————

Taglist (if u wanna be added dont be shy and tell me!)

@thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @cutie1365 @girlmadeofivory @i-honestly-dont-know-anymore

———————————

You tried your best to extend your already thinning patience as your nine year old sibling tugged on your skirt far too many times to count. He was already insisting to head home as if it wasn't his idea to join you and your sisters' run for errands. "Claude, we'll go home as soon as Abby and Elise returns from the post office," you assured tiredly. You drowned out Claude's whining with your own humming, holding the basket of groceries in front of you with both hands.

You were standing in the corner by a street sign, waiting for your younger sisters to return from their own errands. You’ve been going around the market the whole day, so you were just as eager as your youngest sibling to embrace the comfort of your home, more specifically your bed. You yawned absentmindedly, watching the crowd at the square across the street grow bigger and bigger. You didn’t know how much time passed, but you were sure whatever was happening was something interesting.

“Y/N, Y/N, what’s going on there?”

You looked down at Claude who was pointing at the crowd. “I have no idea,” you answered truthfully. “Can we see?” Claude begged. Your frown deepened at the idea of having to move any more than necessary, but you’d rather oblige to Claude’s request rather than listen to him repeat it over and over. You sighed, pulling up the basket so it rested on your left arm while you took Claude’s hand in your right one. “Let’s take a look, but don’t let go of me, okay?” you instructed. Claude nodded vigorously, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

After crossing the road and joining the crowd, you could hear the overwhelming mix of cheers, boos, jeers, and laughs. Your anxiousness grew as much as your curiosity while you tried to piece together what was happening. Apparently it was something about the revolution and the Congress, which was explanation enough for the varied comments, but you were yet to figure out the source. Holding Claude and your groceries tightly, you squeezed your way through the crowd until you were pretty much at the front. If you didn’t decide on that, you were sure that Claude would scale you just to see. There you finally see...

…chaos.

Up on the make-shift stage consisting of a number of crates was a pastor arguing with a short man, the latter whose temper you figured was just like his height based on how angry he looked. You stared at them with confusion as they continued to bicker, listening intently to catch up what they were fighting about.

“-and need I remind you about what happened in Boston?!” the shorter man exclaimed. "Look back at that and tell me again that chaos and bloodshed isn't existing at the hands of the British!"

You pursed your lips. Is he referring to the tea raid in Boston or the shootout? you wondered. You’d heard about both, and you knew those were morbid reminders that you were an British colony; no real control of the fate of the nation. You argued with your father about this once or twice, but you were only rebutted with the idea that you shouldn’t speak out about the issue or else the family business takes the blow. Regardless, you saw that Claude was enjoying his time.

You watched the argument ensue, an amused smile gracing your lips when the short man was starting to gain more support from the audience. He continued on talking about the unfairness of the Tea Act and the promises of freedom brought forth by the revolution if they were to win against Britain. Every word he threw out resonated deeply with your heart, but there was a nagging feeling telling you to stop that just wouldn't go away.

“Can you believe this guy?”

You glanced over your shoulder to see a guy talking to you. “That pipsqueak thinks a bunch of rabbles can overthrow the King!” he snickered. He wore a confident grin as he nudged your arm with his elbow. You gave him an uneasy smile as you took a small step away, holding your basket closer to your chest. “Come on, don’t act like they’ve got the upper hand! They’re practically scraping their knees for supplies.” You refused to reply to the boisterous man and instead turned away from him, and after doing so you could feel his scowl from behind.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“For the revolution!”

You looked up and saw that the short man was now facing the crowd, a fist in the air. “For the revolution!” a good number of the crowd cheered back, sending chills down your spine. You felt a tug on your hand, so you glanced down and saw Claude mimicking the guy with his hand that you were holding raised up. He held a wide and excited grin, showing off his missing tooth. You chuckled at him at how eager he looked.

“For the revolution!” the short man said once more, but louder.

The words rung in your ears like an echoing call this time around, and you felt a zap. There was a strange sensation in your gut, and it was rising to your chest. What was this feeling and why did it feel so... energizing? And why was it making your body move the way it shouldn’t be? Without second thought, you let go of Claude for just a moment, your fingers curling as you thrusted up your hand, and though it happened in just a flick it felt like the action took seconds. Your open smile slowly widened as you took a breath and let out those three words that you have longed to scream on the top of your lungs.

“FOR THE REVOLUTION!”

“You little-!”

You let out a yelp when you felt the man beside you harshly yank at the handle of your basket, pulling you uncomfortably close to him. You instinctively held on top of your groceries, fearing that some of the goods you bought would fall out. “Someone oughta teach you some manners,” the man growled. You scowled at him and tried to tug the basket away, but he only tightened his grip. “Sir, I have no intent to create a commotion, so please let go,” you requested as politely as you could through your gritted teeth.

“No, no. I’d rather teach you a lesson or two.”

“Sir, please let go.”

“Let go of my sister!”

“Claude, don’t!”

Before you could stop him, Claude ran up to the man and kicked him on the knee. You gasped at your brother’s rash decision, taking the opportunity of the man letting go of you to pull Claude away and take a few steps back. You couldn’t help a minute smile of pride when you looked down at Claude sticking a tongue out before it was immediately replaced with a wince when your almost assailant recovered, his face red with anger.

“Claude, get ready to run.”

"You ain't going nowhere, missy."

You held onto Claude's shoulder to pull him behind you then resting your hand at the side of your dress. Your eyes narrowed as you bunched your skirt enough that you could make a run without tripping, Claude clinging onto your arm in fear. The man was ready to grab you again when suddenly a large figure got in between. His back was turned to you, but you could hear his gruffy voice despite the noise of the crowd.

"Now you shouldn't be going something you'll regret," the newcomer warned. "Don't pour your anger on the lady 'cause she chose her nation over a prissy king. Now scram."

The man glared at him then directed it to you before storming off. You let out a shaky breath, glad that the large guy intervened. “Y/N?” Claude whispered fearfully. You moved your hand so you could hold him again, squeezing lightly to assure him that it was okay. “Let’s go home now, yeah?” you suggested. “Elise and Abby should be back by now, but don’t tell them or mom and dad about this.” Claude nodded timidly, pressing close to you. You began to make your way out of the crowd, but not without stopping at the man that helped you.

“Thank you for your help, sir.”

The man turned his head around, the long ends of his bandana whipping in the air as he did so. He flashed a large dorky grin and held a thumbs up. You couldn’t help but giggle at his demeanor before turning on your heels and walking away with Claude close behind you.

Hercules watched your fleeting figure disappear into the sea of people, his smile dropping slightly. He was a bit disappointed that he didn’t get to see your face properly, but knowing he helped you out was enough. After all, you were with them in their cause, and people like them and you had to look after each other.

“Alexander!”

You ignored whatever new chaos (Alexander got kicked off the platform) was created in the square and finally got to squeeze out of the place. You checked on Claude to see of he was okay, and to your relief he was. “Y/N, I want to be a soldier!” Claude suddenly declared. You nearly came to a halt if it wasn’t for you and him in the middle of crossing the street.

“Claude...”

“You heard what he was saying about the revolution! I know how much Ma and Pa loves tea, and wouldn’t it be great if we help those guys make it cheap?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Claude’s conclusion, but the unease still rested with you. You didn’t want to shut down Claude’s desire to support the revolutionary war, but at the same time you couldn’t have him go around and talk about it, especially with your father being against such things. You inhaled deeply as you tried to find the safest way to respond to him.

“As much as you want to join the war, you’re too young to enlist.”

“Aww...”

Claude jutted out his lower lip, showing off his ever so adorable pout. “Let the big guys deal with the baddies, okay?” you told him with a smile. “But I want to help!” Claude whined. “Help with what?” You were about to respond to Claude when another voice cut in. You turned your head and saw Elise and Abby at the spot where you were earlier, eyebrows raised as you neared them.

“Help with carrying the letters on the way home,” you answered Abigail without missing a beat. “Isn’t that right, Claude?”

You looked down at your youngest sibling with a close-eyed grin. Claude stared at you for a little bit until he understood what you were up to. “Yeah! I wanna carry the letters and deliver them to Papa!” he exclaimed, reaching out to the pile of letters Elise had with both his hands. Times like these you were thankful for two things: first that Claude was a smart boy, and second that you were his favorite sister. Elise giggled at your brother’s enthusiasm, bending down to hand him the stack. You smiled at the interaction, momentarily stopping when you felt Abigail take the basket from your arm.

“Let me carry that, Y/N. Your arm’s bruising already.”

You stretched out your arm, and you noticed that the area around your inner elbow was marked red (and nearly blue) with the outline of the basket handle’s design. Your lips drew flat, remembering what happened earlier. The man did aggressively pull on the basket, maybe the pain just didn’t settle that time with the adrenaline. You sighed, thanking Abigail for the initiative.

“Come on, let’s go home before sundown.”

You swooped Claude off the ground and carried him before heading to a direction, with Abigail and Elise behind you. “If you keep our little interaction in the square a secret, I’ll buy you lots of ice cream the next time we go out, okay?” you whispered to Claude, who giggled excitedly at the idea. “Okay!” he agreed with the same hushed tone. You mimicked his laughter before nuzzling his nose with yours, earning another round of giggles.

“Y/N?”

After a few minutes of a quiet walk, you heard Claude sleepily call to you. “Yes?” you hummed, lifting him up a bit to make sure he wasn’t falling. Your arms had long gone past the aching stage and was already numb from carrying him, but you knew this was the easiest way to keep your brother quiet. You were thankful you developed the arm strength for this. “If I can’t join the war because I’m too young, then you’re allowed to because you’re older, right?” he asked. You gave him a blank expression as you let his words sink.

“And if I am, what do you propose?”

“You can go for the both of us.”

Your breath hitched. “T-to war?” you stuttered quietly. Claude nodded, leaning on you as he pressed the letters to his chest. “Don’t you wanna give Ma and Pa cheap tea, too?” he pointed out. You tried to laugh, but all that came out of your mouth was an empty breath. “Well, I do,” you agreed dryly. Your legs felt heavy, and it was not because of carrying Claude.

“So you want me to be a soldier on your behalf?”

“Yeah!”

You bit your lip, knowing this promise was too great for you to keep. “I’ll ask Ma and Pa about it,” you answered slowly. “But I thought Ma and Pa didn’t like to talk about the revolution?” You sighed; Claude was right, but you couldn’t just go and draft yourself into the Continental Army. As much as you found the idea endearing, you were a woman; you had no place in the war, much more in the battlefield. “Worth a try to convince them,” you replied. You glanced down at Claude, your concerned frown melting into a smirk.

“And when I join, big sister Y/N will be the best damn soldier you’ll ever see.”

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