Older Sibling - Blog Posts

𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 : edward midford, soma, platonic!joanne harcourt

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : you surprise your boyfriend with a smothering of kisses/platonic! you surprise your brother with a visit/hug

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : slightly suggestive obv minus joanne’s, mentions of anxiety

𝐚/𝐧 : love the phantom five boys! this idea is from @dior-luxury ‘s series with the twst characters. i highly recommend that you check it out! please enjoy. :)

𝐄𝐃𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃

Hot. That was the only word to describe the temperatures of June 4th, 1889. The sun rays beaming brightly down on your skin for the past few hours left you lightheaded, the abundance of layers that built up your attire only causing you more distress. But, you still needed to achieve your goal for the day; surprising your beloved.

You were lucky his prefect was so understanding of your request to visit him before his match against the Sapphire Owl house, him taking it as you delivering a good luck charm to the lad. A good luck charm? One supposes it could be. An ambush? Most definitely.

A creak in the floorboards of the locker rooms echoed as you crouched behind a set of wooden lockers, your eyes trained on Edward as he walked all on his lonesome to grab a sweat rag from his locker. His eyes were trained on the path in front of him, a determined gleam radiating off of them as his steps thunked across the room. His heart was dead set on winning, wishing to make his sister as well as you proud. So, he would make sure to play at his top performance.

As your beloved remained deep in thought, rummaging through his belongings with haste, you stepped out from your hiding spot behind the lockers.

Without even giving the boy time to think, your hand quickly gripped onto his wrist, dragging him into the nearest storage closet.

Edward’s eyes widened with alarm, immediately finding it difficult to adjust to the darkness in the room. His hands felt around for something to hold onto, perhaps the door handle so he could make a hasty escape from his perpetrator. However, he was met with a soft texture. This was no type of wood, or cricket paddle, it was a cloth of high quality material. Soon after, the scent of something, more accurately, someone familiar met his nose.

“[Name]? What are you doing—“

You did not give him time to finish his sentence before you cupped his cheeks, placing an eager kiss on his lips.

It was no simple kiss; it contained the passion, adoration, and longing star-crossed lovers shared when finally meeting. Many months had passed since you had last seen your Edward in person, and letters simply were not enough to regale your adoration to him. The emotion within your shared embrace was telling of your yearning, and he could not help but be consumed by it.

Arms wrapped around your waist in an attempt to ground himself, his wide, emerald eyes, blinking rapidly as he took in the sight of you. “Bloody—“, he sputtered, before being silenced by another kiss.

Numerous kisses were then placed on Edward’s body; one on his nose, two on his cheeks flushed with red, then one on his neck. You did not want to stop; you were practically radiating with the tenderness and warmth you had missed giving your beloved. His flustered protests went ignored by you as you pressed more and more gentle, passionate kisses along his pale skin. A growing feeling in his stomach kept growing, like butterflies that would flutter in a garden. It made him feel like he was going to melt into a pile of mush simply from your affection.

Finally, one last kiss was placed upon his lips where your assault had begun. You then raised your hands to cup his cheeks once again, brushing away the blonde pieces of hair that framed his face. Soon enough, his hands raised to steady the gentle hold you had on him and his face lowered, allowing you to lean your forehead against his.

“This is highly inappropriate,” he mumbled, eyes intent on looking into yours despite the uneven beating of his heart.

You smiled cheekily, playfully pinching his cheek. “You seem to be enjoying it though, my knight.”

Edward released his hands from your grip, confidentially placing his hand in your own to lead you out of the darkened closet. The lad still had a game to win, after all. “How in the world did you even get back here?” He questioned as he guided you.

“I told your prefect that you’re my fiancé. He was more than willing to let me in.”

His eyes widened with fear, already sensing the onslaught of questions from his housemates. “WHAT—?” He nervously shouted, though it sounded more like the screech of a banshee.

You slyly smirked behind your gloved hand. “By the by, he expects an explanation as to why you did not tell him about me during the celebration later this evening.”

“You are bloody lucky that I’ve missed you.”

───

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐀

Soma’s time spent at Weston College had been one of the best experiences of his life in England— an entertaining game of cricket, enjoying a large slice of chicken meat pie, and being able to celebrate his good friend's victory with a party created unforgettable memories. Unforgettable is more of an umbrella term for his feelings, even the more painful aspects of his adventures were precious to him; such as his yearning for you whilst apart.

Yearning is agonizing, yet it makes the heart grow fonder. The amount of love and sweetness that dripped into the ink he used to write his letters to you was immense, nearly overflowing. He spoke of his new friends, his studies, and his secret, not so secret, mission for the Earl Phantomhive; but every letter without fail contained heartfelt words of a longing to embrace you again. Tears were brought to your eyes each time you received a letter, knowing deep down that he had more than likely placed a kiss on the seal before sending it off. It made you feel as if you were a young child again, dreaming of an extravagant future where an unexpected suitor swept you off your feet.

Prince Soma of Bengal simply had that effect on you.

So, when you finally caught sight of him at the celebration, you quickly grabbed his forearm and dragged him away from the festivities. It only took Soma a moment to realize who exactly had whisked him away. “[Name], just the person I wanted to see! How are you, my-” he laughed as you abruptly pressed him against a tree, stealing a kiss as you did so.

Your attack did not simply stop there, no, it continued for what felt like hours. Kisses were placed on his cheeks, then his forehead, and then suddenly his lips again; all gaining a deeper, gentle passion as you entangled your fingers in his dark plum locks. All the while, his hair was spilling out from its low-pony and his boater hat was nearly completely off his head. He was practically melting from your touch, consumed by the gratification he felt after receiving the affection he had been craving from you.

“Whoa, feeling bold are we?” He whispered against your lips, grinning happily as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Now he was only encouraging your behavior. You pressed several more kisses onto his skin, scattering light kisses across his neck and along his long fingers. Finally, you placed your last kiss on his nose, gently holding one of his hands to cup your cheek. “Hello, my love.” you whispered, pressing deeper into your beloved's hand.

Soma returned the favor, pressing a quick peck on your temple. “Hi, sweets.”

Before he was able to pull back, you pressed closer to him, flushing your body against his. “I missed you.”

He was going to go crazy.

“I missed you more! It was so boring here without you. You know what’s amazing, I already learned all the subjects they teach here back at home in Bengal. I mean, you would be amazed by how easy it—” he whined before abruptly being interrupted by another onslaught of kisses.

Small chuckles came from the boy, slowly turning into full blown laughter. “Again? You flatter me, love!”

“Soma, stop giggling!” you groaned, pulling away from him.

He only giggled in response, pulling your waist closer so you couldn’t back away. “I can’t help it! Your kisses are so gentle that they tickle.”

A frown formed on your face as a heated staring contest was shared between you and the prince, neither winning nor losing in this particular debate. After all, he found you cute whether you were upset with him or not. “Don’t be embarrassed, I love it!”

───

𝐉𝐎𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓

Excitement. There was no better word to describe how the shy boy from Scarlet Fox house was feeling. Today was going to be wonderful; a face off between friends, high stakes, and a thrilling game of cricket were waiting for him in just a few hours. The most exciting event of all, however, was none of these. It was finally being able to see you, his sibling, after so many months.

How he’d missed you, it was odd waking up in the morning without you and your older sisters at the breakfast table. Though, his mornings still contained just the right amount of lively chatter. But of course, it has not been the same without you.

Being a sibling is a privilege, and having good-hearted ones was an even bigger privilege. He had heard and read stories about siblings who would back-stab, manipulate, and abandon their siblings; but he never quite understood why. He had been lucky enough to have been born and allowed to grow up with good people around him, people who had already experienced the harshness of the world yet remained kind. That trait became something he admired; something he wished to be. And he can only believe what the people around him say, that he’s as kind as a summer breeze.

But some part of him wonders, is that really true?

Truthfully, he feels selfish even for asking that you make an appearance at his first cricket game. Selfish for asking you to carve out part of your day for him, and even more so for requesting you specifically. He can not help but feel as though he is asking for so much, yet he knows deep down he is asking for so little. He knows you will show up, but a seedling of doubt makes him believe you won’t. Such are the troubles that come from his anxiety.

Finally, it is his turn to throw the ball. His confidence is at its high, yet it wanes as he catches a glimpse of the crowd. Suddenly, his eyes are searching, scanning for any familiar faces, until finally they land on your family. You are quick to notice his stares in your direction, waving eagerly at him as you released a loud cheer for his team. You came, you really came!

A relieved smile spreads across his face, now fully focused on this game. He was going to make you proud. Until, a painful stabbing feeling was felt coming from his stomach.

Terrible. He feels terrible, and so dreadfully embarrassed. After being hauled off the field by one of the housemasters, Joanne was placed onto a bed in the infirmary. And even worse than that, his whole team had been disqualified due to the majority of them getting food poisoning. It was unfortunate, the chicken meat pie had been quite delicious.

A sigh left his lips as he rested on the white sheeted bed, a silence soon following as he was left with only himself and his thoughts. The scene of him falling to the ground in pain kept replaying in his mind, making his fingers twitch with discomfort. He then began counting three objects in the room, then three sounds he recognized, then three body parts that he could move; a method of calming down he had learned from you. But, it wasn’t enough to make the thoughts and images leave his mind.

That was the curse that was his anxiety.

Suddenly, two knocks on the door drew his attention. Then, shortly after, the door creaked open, revealing you on the other side holding a glass of water. Closing the door behind you, you entered the room and approached the bed your brother laid on.

His eyes widened, quickly adjusting his body into a sitting position. “[Name]?”

You smiled fondly, taking a seat in the wooden chair next to him. “Of course it is.”

You carefully handed the glass of water to your brother, making sure he would not drop it. Soon, he began taking small sips of water, which quelled his thirst. “How are you feeling, Jo?” you questioned, leaning back in your chair.

For a moment, you thought you caught a flash of a frown on his face. His hands fidgeted with his cup before he placed it on the side table next to him. “A little better, though my first cricket game did not go exactly as I had hoped.” he chuckled, attempting to hide the truth of his feelings.

However, it didn’t go unnoticed by you. You took a gentle grip of his hands, drawing his attention to something other than the memories of the last few hours. “It’s alright, dear. A little food poisoning might hurt you now, but I’m sure later you’ll laugh at the circumstance soon in the future.” you smiled.

It was such a simple yet true statement; that made it fact. The fact was he was going to enjoy a laugh about the incident with his new friends. The fact was he was going to forget the situation and remember it as a fond memory. The fact was he was going to be okay.

Joanne let it sit for a moment, took a deep breath in, and let it out. He let his body relax and focused on the good events that happened today. “I suppose you aren’t wrong. I still had a lot of fun playing against Phantomhive.” he muttered, a smile creeping up on his face.

“Is that the friend you wrote about in your letters?” Keeping his mind off the matter was a good thing, it kept him occupied. To your question, he gave you a single nod.

Your eyes widened for a moment, then you gave him a pat on the head. “I’m glad you’re making friends again.”

Joanne was a shy boy, not one to branch out or make himself known to the people around him. Him simply making the reach to make new friends was refreshing and exciting for him, it almost made you jealous.

Soon your arms wrapped around your brother, bringing him into a warm embrace. Feelings of longing and pride filled you, happy to be reunited with your dear brother once again. It nearly brought you to tears. “I’m so proud of you, Jo. You’ve grown so much, I almost fear I’m falling behind.” you whispered, adding a light chuckle towards the end of your words.

Joanne returned your hug, squeezing you tightly. He nuzzled into your shoulder, murmuring against your shoulder. “Don’t say that, [Name]. I think we’ve both changed in the months we’ve been apart, but I think our respect for each other hasn’t faltered a bit.”

Removing one of your hands from your embrace, you gently patted his hair. “You’re too sweet for your own good, truly.” you whispered, placing a soft kiss on the crown of his head.

Though it was not said with words, both of your actions wrote words of thanks.

Thank you for being here for me.

Thank you for worrying about me.

And thank you for being kind to me.

After a few more moments of silence, you removed yourself from the hug. A light grip was then placed on your brother's shoulders, bringing his attention to you once again. “Would you like to come sit with me on the lawn to watch the last match tomorrow? Your friends can join us.” you insisted.

Joanne’s eyes widened with shock at your suggestion. “Is that truly alright?”

Another smile spread across your face upon seeing his change of heart. “As long as your school’s rules don’t hold a tradition stating you’re not allowed to sit with your family.”

Joanne returned your smile with his own grin. “Lawn it is, then!” he happily exclaimed.

@𝐩𝐡𝐪𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 — ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ - please do not translate or plagiarize my works.

please ignore if wanted, this is only venting out my thoughts 💭💭

Is anyone else sometimes forgetting who they are?

There are days where I forget I'm 22 years old, who used to draw her favorite characters, immerses herself in books such as Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, who stayed up as a child and to sneak into the kitchen and make herself strawberry milk, wanting to be a singer when so young and absolutely adored in going to playgrounds.

Whenever I see myself now, I forget that I was someone of my choice. Now, I only wonder what I'll make for dinner for my siblings, which of them are going off with friends and the time they'll be back, if there were days marked for parent-teacher conferences or upcoming performances and their schools, appointments for check-up or needing medicine for fevers, using any money I was gifted whether from birthdays or to buy myself something to get what my siblings need.

I can remember as a child, asides from attending school or visiting families, how normal it is to know how to make a bottle for a baby, to change diapers, to burp them, knowing what they can have and taking care of them whenever the adults were busy.

How normal is it that I learned to know so much for my siblings ever since I was a child, growing up knowing how to raise them, that I don't know what I like for myself anymore?

Do I still draw my favorite characters or whatever comes to mind?

Do I still read those thick books I used to carry everywhere?

Do I still just lay on my back with music playing in the background?

Do I still drink strawberry milk?

Ride bikes?

Karaoke with my cousin?

Why is it that the coffee I first took a sip of as a child now became a refuge to the hereditary migraines and headaches?

Why is it that I can take so much care for others but deny any sickness I'm undergoing to continue chores?

Is it because I'm scared of failing my siblings? Is it because I've grown so use to doing so much that it's unsettling for myself to be able to have time for myself?

Why am I only gaining help now, after my other relatives watched my breakdowns, my sickness from stress to heaving up whatever I had in my stomach, my grandmother whispering poisonous words about my mother to me whenever alone?

Why didn't I have help sooner? Why didn't they help when I had to switch to homeschooling because of my mental health declining and bullying I endured? Why didn't they help when I panicked for my siblings whenever sick, especially one with hydrocephalus? Why didn't they help when they saw me starve myself to give plenty to my siblings?

Why are they acting as if it's all in my head when I mentioned how my siblings and I keep to ourselves, staying out of their way because our mother wasn't allowed back in the house because of their own fault and hers?

I remember sitting in the darkness of the bathroom, hands clenching over the lower half of my face to muffle my crying, eyes burning and ears ringing because of all that I've been through. I remember tears in my eyes the second one of my cousins started yelling at me for something out of my control, nearly attacking me while an uncle watched and did nothing to stop her— only for another cousin to stop her and comfort me after while my siblings watched me.

I felt so pathetic and ashamed, having my siblings' eyes on me as I curled myself on my bed, fingers digging into my face and palms clamped over my lips as I felt my chest buzzing endlessly at the thought of my cousin, the one I considered another sibling, nearly punched me— my uncle watching, arms crossed and body relaxed, didn't move a muscle to intervene, the same man my relatives claim doesn't hate me or my siblings.

How I practically became a mother, unable to finish schooling during COVID-19 lockdown because all of my siblings had their classes, the younger ones needing someone to watch over them. I was 16, maybe 17 when I became their mother, called one by the last born child and sought for by my sibling with hydrocephalus for comfort at night to sleep in my bed and curl to my side.

At the first parent-teacher conference, I broke down because one of my siblings' elementary teacher saw how tired I was and helped with getting on my feet for GED.

I can't talk to the friends I had in highschool before transferring to homeschool because I'm no longer knowing who they are or become. Having no chances at dating with being so focused on my siblings and the social anxiety I have, not even knowing myself as I used to.

"You're over exaggerating."

"Learn to trust people."

"You're so independent."

"Your siblings are so dependent on you."

Words upon words, statement after statement, criticism after criticism.

I get so overwhelmed, overstimulated by stress and trying to do everything but then get told off as exaggerating what I do for my siblings.

I can't trust my relatives for my mom's side because so many have hurt me verbally, emotionally, mentally and nearly physically— I take so much from them to avoid it ever reaching my brothers and sisters, to where only tidbits of their nastiness reached the older ones.

I didn't want independence in the way it came. I needed others to see me drowning, see me reaching out to them when it became too much, shouldering and balancing too much on my plate, only to be dubbed as independent and thought as not needing assistance in any shape or form.

My siblings are dependent on me because they kicked out their father, they kicked out their mother, they never attended their conferences, they didn't see their first steps, they weren't the someone who cooked their food, did their laundry, showered them, cared for them when sick.

Hell, they only started helping now, only one of them is attempting to gain guardianship approved by our mother, only they have helped with getting what my kids need, their appointments, checking their grades.

I try to get back to writing, by gods I try, my mind spiraling with ideas of characters I break myself into pieces to create.

I try drawing again, each sketch lighthearted and faint in the light.

I try sewing to repair my clothes.

I try so much that it strains my aching body to relax and understand only now I'm getting the help I needed so long ago. I wonder if that small child from so long ago, who'd run for ladybugs and sing to the songs their mother grew up with, would ever come out to the light where there's no screaming aimed our way,

no argument so loud they'd cover their ears and clench their eyes shut,

no dizziness when having to get up and missing chances to eat for others to have,

no buzzing in their chests from the anxiety of the outside world.

Would we ever have a chance to build ourselves? Would we ever meet someone who'll stay by our side, grow to understand the meaning behind the eye bags and trembling hands, scratched knees and overstimulated thoughts? Would we ever get back to reading those books again, finding ourselves daydreaming of what'd it be like to be in those pages?

Sorry again for the long rambling and spouting, but I just needed to have it all typed out for now before anymore is thrown my way.

𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐎.

only now realizing how weird it is to start self care after taking care of others for so long; I've been taking care and practically raising my younger siblings for years since I was a child and grew up learning how, so having the house empty, siblings all at their school, I started laughing at how weird it is for using a hydrating sheet mask

may get back into writing after enduring the entire thanksgiving break— not much of a break having all of them home, some sick and others just gremlins

Tuesday, Nov. 1st, 2022 Part 2

4:35pm

The second thing we talked about was Angel (again) needing to draw the line between her and Gem vs. me. She brought up how she needs to pour into herself, the same with Gem, but they haven’t been able to because they have been so focused on me (?) and their jobs. She also talked about how I enter the living room when they are having conversations between just them, and how I need to be more mindful of that. She then felt the need to say once again that she will always talk and choose Gem over me and to not take it personally, which I don’t (?). 

But, what’s bothering me is why this has to be a conversation topic that keeps coming up? I don’t mind if Angel or Gem don’t always tell me things and want to keep things within their relationship, but I’m not the one coming up to them asking for them to share things with me. They share a lot with me, to begin with, off of their own decisions to do so. Even though she said that she doesn’t want this to feel like roommates, I don’t feel that way at all. It feels uncomfortable because it feels like I’m invading their space and their relationship. 

I will definitely be more mindful of their conversations, and will try to leave the house more often to satisfy that need. I respect their relationship, but it’s not like it hasn’t dawned on me that they’re my older sisters and that my stay is temporary.

Part 1 -- Part 3

Tuesday, Nov. 1st, 2022

4:35pm

Dear Me,

I’m at the Brookside Market today, and there’s so much on my mind. First, when I woke up this morning, Angel (oldest sister) was in a bad mood and wanted the apartment to herself. I didn’t know what to do with myself because I needed the space too, simple as that. The apartment is a safe space that shelters me from the outside, from New York City, while I am still struggling. It concerned me that she was feeling bad and I wanted to give her space, but I also wanted to talk too, we haven’t talked one-on-one much at all. 

I ended up just staying to myself and offering to make her breakfast, to which she turned down. After I ate, she talked to me about me about my spending impulses after the heels I bought as a birthday present for myself arrived. She wants me to stop being so impulsive with “indulging” myself and stop spending my money carelessly. I told her that I never learned what it means to be responsible with money and practically took advantage of the money available. She was extremely frustrated and abrasive, and went towards assuming that I expect for money to always be there. That I expect people to cover my needs while I indulge in what I want. She’s right? I guess? 

Despite whatever negative consequences come, I just move forward with asking for more money when I’m in hot water, just to put myself in the same situation over and over again. I want to be smarter with money, not only for the purpose of learning, but to be successful with the life I want to live. I just need to be more conscious of how I spend. I need to think about the bigger problems more, and really use my money for my needs, instead of thinking about my immediate wants. I need to be more forward-thinking with my money WHILE using my money to provide for myself independently, starting now. All of my basic needs are being covered, but they won’t anymore. 

She decided that she and Gem are no longer giving me money, so I have to change and provide for myself. BUT, this is not to say that I want to rely on them or take advantage of them, ever (I haven’t even been spending their money when I’m “indulging”). I still feel really bad about my actions in response to them helping me, and I don’t want to continue those actions. To Angel and Gem, I’m so sorry for unintentionally hurting you and spending money that I have and that you gave me on unnecessary things, rather than saving towards my potential apartment or my subway card. It was not smart nor respectful to do so, and I promise to take this information (even with the nasty delivery) and be smarter with my money, and to learn from this and grow from this point onward.

Part 2 Part 3

Being an older sibling, and seeing a younger sibling upset will never stop being painful.

It only adds to the pain when you aren't equally close to all of them, and the one with the most distance is the one in need of help.

We've never been overly close, and they seldom, if ever, come to me for help. Our parents were more gentle raising them, so they grew up healthier and more independent. That's a bit of a double edged sword, though. I could at least try to calm the others down and encourage them, but not this time. They probably don't want me to, and I wouldn't know how, even if they did.

It's strange how people who grew up in such close quarters, with the same parents have such drastically different connections with each other. The rest of us a close-knit clique, with a thin, frail connection to that island. It's not like any of us deliberately excluded each other growing up, and it's not like any of us saw it coming. It's no fault of our own, and it's upsetting, but that's the way things came out.