#I really feel like she got tom to consider the sisters... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

samkerrworshipper · 2 years ago

Text

Medication - Leah Williamson

fluff, little bit of angst, anxiety attacks, mentions of depression, 3500 words

balled my eyes out to black fridays by tom odell and then this was birthed.

blurb:

your a rookie on the lionesses squad, who suffers from anxiety and when you stop taking your meds after learning you are starting a game in the euros everything goes downhill for you.

i am so sorry for how vague this was lol i’m writing this and publishing at 2:30 in the morning

I’d never liked gamedays. Everything felt different, all the feelings and emotions heightened. The pressure was insurmountable, especially when you are playing for your nation. Especially when you are one of the youngest, one of the least experienced, one of the youngsters. Today, we were playing Norway, my first game as a Lioness where I was a part of the starting line-up. It was a must win game, the stakes were high for us to win these Euro’s, especially considering it was a home euro’s for us. If we wanted to progress to the finals we couldn’t lose, the pressure was on.

I’d understood that as soon as I’d been notified that I was to start the match, understood that everything changed as soon as you were actually on the pitch. Our one point win over Austria had been great, but we were all hungrier for more, hungrier for the points that we needed to get us ahead in the competition. Sarina knew that there was an expectation for us to win, we all knew that.

I’d been feeling it all week, feeling the anxiety thrumming through my veins as we practised and went about our normal routine for the week. Something was different, it was my first year as a senior Lioness and I’d never been named as a starter. That was a big deal, a really big deal. That was all I could think about. What if I fucked it up? What if I messed up and they told me that I wasn’t going to be welcome back. What if Sarina saw me on the pitch and thought that I was worthless, useless, bad. That was all I could think about as we were standing in the tunnel getting ready to walk out. I was sandwiched in between Lucy and Beth. My hands shaking in my pockets and my breath quickening subconsciously. If I wasn’t aware of it then apparently the defender behind me was, because just as we were about to walk out I felt one of her hands fall to my shoulder, pulling me back into her just enough for her to be able to press her mouth to my ear and whisper,

“You’ve got this amore, you’re going to do perfectly fine,” Lucy’s voice was so strong, but so comforting. She was like an older sister to me, and had been since my first day at training camp. She had been the first person to believe in me besides my Arsenal teammates, the first person to really advocate for my future. She was also the first person on the Lionesses team besides Leah to learn about my struggles with anxiety, adhd and depression. She’d been a light in my life, texted me to make sure I was keeping up with my medication, or just to check in.

In the wake of the Euro’s I’d stopped taking my anxiety meds. I took Lorazepam, which worked really well for me, but it also tended to make me really drowsy and fatigued. Things that are not ideal when you are training and playing almost everyday for your country. It had positive effects, I definitely found it a lot easier to train and play my hardest, but there were a lot of negatives. Like how I was feeling right now. Like my heart was going to beat out of my chest, my hands getting clammy with sweat and shaking non stop like I’d just shot up on steroids. The sound of the crowd at Brighton didn’t help either as we walked out onto the pitch. I struggled to get through the national anthem and the pre game pleasantries, my chest and body hurting from the anxiety that was building up inside of my body.

I was grateful but also not to step out on the pitch properly. It felt like I was on a different planet, my senses overly heightened and my brain short circuiting almost everything.

I could feel Leah’s gaze on me as we all lined up to start the game, she worried about me, a lot. I was also her Arsenal teammate and she’d taken me under her wing beyond football, we’d become very close in our time spent together. I ignored her sidewards glances though, tasking myself with showing our nation that I deserved to be where I was and some jitters weren’t going to affect that.

My first half was rocky, normally with the mixture of adrenaline and endorphins my anxiety subsided when I started playing but this time I must have been too far gone, too much pent up anxiety built up for it to just fade away. It reflected in how I was playing, but our forwards had been flawless, slotting in six goals which put us in a lead that was pretty much untouchable. Clambering into the rooms at halftime was a charade. Everyone besides myself seemed ecstatic and hyped about our lead, I was on the inside but I was also wrapped up in my own bubble. I took a seat on the floor of the change rooms, taking in Serena’s speech about keeping our heads and just continuing what we were doing. I allowed Lucy to pass me a drink bottle, obliging her request for me to hydrate myself. She could tell something was up, she’d been hovering around me on the pitch, covering me. When one of the Norwegian girls had taken my feet out from under me she had immediately been at my side, pulling me up and then yelling at the umpire about how it had clearly been a foul if not a yellow. Leah had to pull her away just to ensure Lucy wouldn’t get carded herself, all whilst I stood there absolutely helpless as result of the amount of effort I was having to put into not collapsing from the amount of pain in my chest.

Leah kept it pretty brief after Serena, sticking to what she’d said and putting an emphasis on a few things before we headed back out. She managed to snag a grip on my jersey though as I trailed with the girls at the back of the group.

“Are you okay?” There was a little bit of captain in it, but it was mostly gentle, her voice a little bit rugged from the amount of yelling she’d done on the field.

“I’m fine.” Her facial expression was enough to tell me she didn’t believe a word I was saying.

“I’m telling Serena to sub you off, you clearly don’t look well enough to be playing.”

“I told you I feel fine Cap, I can play out the rest of the 90, please let me play it out.”

Leah looked conflicted, conflicted with what to do and how to react to my plea. I wasn’t one who begged very often, I didn’t see the point in it.

“Fine but y/n, as soon as anything happens out there, you put yourself in danger or someone else in danger you are going off, understood?”

I didn’t have any other option but to nod at Leah.

“Yes, captain.”

My voice had held some sarcasm as I tore her hand from the bottom of my jersey and started jogging back up the tunnel to catch up with girls that I’d previously been chatting to.

The last ten minutes of the second half was when bad transitioned to really not good. My body began to catch up with my over exertion and every second on the field became a battle. It was a blessing that the ball wasn’t really travelling down my end, Less and Toony had both been substituted in and were having a field day in our forward half kicking it back and forth to run the clock down. The Norwegian girls were giving it their best but you could tell they knew it was over. As the minutes passed though and we went into extra time I could feel my body really starting to get heavier, you could blame it on the lack of hydration and the english heat that we were playing in but I knew it was my body betraying me. I’d been denying my body for too long and it was catching up with me. I didn’t even know how many minutes of extra time we had, my vision was slowly blurring, my steps becoming wobbly and the pain in my chest becoming overbearing.

I could hear my opponent, I think it was Maren, or was it Guro? Asking me if I felt alright. I didn’t really comprehend it though, I couldn’t hear anything properly, it felt like I was underwater, my ears ringing out and my vision blacking over as I fell face first into the turf. Maren managed to catch me before I fully face planted into the grass, helping my limp form down to the ground before starting to yell out for help. It was then of course that the whistles blew and the match ended. I could make out the sounds of the crowd going nuts, maybe even my teammates on the sidelines yelling in triumph. I couldn’t open my eyes though and I definitely couldn’t make out the voice of Maren on the ground beside me trying to ask me questions and attract the attention of a medic. It was all mellowed out as my body succumbed to a coma like state that I’d forced myself into.

Leah and Lucy were the first two from my own team to locate me, passed out on the ground with Maren trying to provide as much privacy for me as possible whilst also pressing her hand to my throat to make sure that there wasn’t anything seriously wrong. It was Maren, Guro had been subbed off at the 84’ minute mark. I remembered that because I’d silently been wishing at the time that Serena would do the same, but she’d made her final changes and taking me off apparently hadn't been one of them.

“Y/n, can you open your eyes for me? Or squeeze my hand?”

I could feel Leah’s own hand fall into mine and I squeezed it as best as I could, it was enough for me to tell her that I was conscious enough to make out what she was saying to me.

“Good y/n/n, the medics are about to be here, can you try and open your eyes and talk for me?”

I tried my hardest to crack my eyes open, when I did finally muster up the will to open one of them I was met with the brightness of the stadium lights. I groaned almost immediately, being forced to take in my surroundings. I was surrounded by our trainers, who were draping different towels over my body in an attempt to cool me down and cover me. My cleats had been removed from my feet and someone was soaking my socks in cold water, something that I was not pleased to be awakened by.

“Good sweetheart, stay focused on me yeah, eyes on me.”

My eyes snapped back up to Leah, who was crouched above my head, Serena and Lucy’s heads were beside her own, staring down at me.

“The medics are going to come look at you and you are going to let them, okay?”

I almost immediately shook my head at Leah but she kept her jaw clenched and her stern face up.

“I’m not asking y/n, you just passed out on the field, you need to be assessed.”

I shook my head again and Leah rolled her eyes at me.

“An-n-xiety.”

I could hardly make out my own words in the stadium full of noise and the words themselves made me realise how much I was struggling to regulate my own breaths.

Leah nodded knowingly, suddenly everything seemed to come into perspective for her.

“You stopped taking your medication, didn’t you?”

I gulped and nodded at her, trying to block out all of the distractions that were happening around me. She looked annoyed at me, I cowered a little bit with the glare that she was giving me. After the last time I went on a sabbatical from my medication I swore to Leah I would never do it again.

As the medics crouched down next to me I shut my eyes again, it all becoming too much for my head. I let the medics fuss over me, I blacked out somewhere in between them putting me on a stretcher and getting me off the pitch.

I reawakened with sweat dripping down my body, all of the oxygen depleting from my body and my chest aching like it never had before. I choked a little bit as I sat up from my spot, gasping for air to enter my lungs. It took me a few seconds to recognise where I was, sitting inside the makeshift medical room at Brighton. My head was pounding and my whole body was aching.

“Y/n, look at me, you're having an anxiety attack, deep breaths.”

“Wh-what.” The words came out in a gasp as I struggled to take in any air, looking at Leah for guidance.

“We’re at Brighton, we just played Norway, you had an anxiety episode on the pitch. You’re having an attack right now, I need you to take deep breaths, follow me, in and out.”

I watched Leah as she exaggerated some deep breaths, if it hadn't been for the circumstance I probably would have laughed at her.

As I slowly started to take in more air she tried a different tactic.

“Good y/n/n, your doing so well my good girl. Can you tell me five things you can see?”

It was deflection, something that Leah had picked up on from her therapist.

“Serena, you, the light, Lucy and a drink bottle.”

Leah nodded at me encouragingly, rubbing slowly up my back as she continued.

“Good, you’re doing so well, how about four things you can feel?”

“Your breath, the scratchy blanket, my wet socks and I don’t know.”

My words were still choken as I used up whatever oxygen I was taking in to get the words out.

“That’s okay, that’s good, you are doing so well for me angel, how about three things you can hear?”

I tried to focus fully on Leah, on her words, her rubbing my back, her breath against my neck.

“Serena tapping her shoe, the heart monitor and the music from the changeroom.”

It was faint but if you focused in enough you could just hear the sound of my teammates in the change rooms, getting up to god knows that with the absence of their captain and manager.

“Perfect, you are doing absolutely perfectly. How about two things you can smell?”

“Antiseptic and your perfume.”

“Good, last one, one thing you can taste.”

I could feel my breath and body evening itself out, it felt like I was a piece of linen that was slowly but surely being ironed out, all of the crinkles and creases leaving my body.

“I don’t know.”

“Last one y/n, I know you can do it.”

“Metal, the iron taste from blood.”

Leah nodded at me, plastering a kiss on my forehead. Her words and actions being enough to bring me back down to earth fully. I very slowly took in my surroundings properly, Serena, Lucy and Keira were all sitting at the end of my bed, watching as Leah did her thing. I was hooked up to a few different things, cords and wires poking out of my extremities. A saline drip, heart monitor and another machine that I wasn’t sure the purpose of.

“Hey my girl, you back here with us now?”

I pushed my head into Leah’s chest, trying to hide from the world that I was now a participating member of.

“No hiding, not here,”

I groaned as Leah pushed me out of her chest, annoyed by the loss of contact and the confrontation of having to be put in front of some of the people I respected most.

“You gave us a fright back there, I think you came close to killing Maren.”

I gulped nervously, hanging onto every word that left Serena’s mouth, just bobbing my head in agreement because what else was I supposed to do.

“M’ sorry, didn’t mean to, just wanted to prove that I deserved to be here.”

Serena’s face held a kind of understanding, like she’d seen girls before me who had been the same, willing to die to prove their worth to the dutchwoman who we all regarded so highly.

“You wouldn’t be here in the first place if you didn’t deserve to be. It’s one thing to push yourself but to the point where you black out on the field is another thing. If it ever happens again y/n y/l/n then I can swear to you now that you will be benched, am I understood.” I nodded meekly at Serena,

“Yes ma’am.”

She nodded at me, she’d gotten her point across.

“Leah tells me this happened as a result of you not taking your medication?”

I pushed my head back into Leah’s chest, grunting at her when she pushed me out of it. I couldn’t do much else but nod at Serena.

“I get side effects ma’am, it makes me drowsy and sleepy, I didn’t want it to affect my game.”

Serena was very quick to fire back at me,

“You take medication to ensure that you feel well, there is no shame in that. If you are having a problem with side effects then you are to bring it up with one of our doctors, not boycott your medication entirely. From now on I am going to be responsible for your medication, you will come to me everyday to take it so I can ensure that you are receiving the correct doses so something like this does not occur again, is that understood?”

I gulped and nodded at Serena. She smiled at me knowingly in return.

“You are an elite athlete y/n, it is imperative that you care for your body. Or something like this happens, something with such magnitude that it can’t be overlooked. Your health and wellbeing comes first, always.”

I nodded at Serena once again, allowing her to give me a hug before leaving the room to give us some privacy. As soon as the door closed behind her I shed a few tears, I hated confrontation, it was one of my biggest fears.

“She’s right y’know, this could have been a lot worse, what if you’d put yourself in a really dangerous position because you were in a bad headspace and ended up seriously injured, you can’t just stop taking your medication randomly y/n, it’s not safe.”

Leah’s voice was murmured against my forehead, her lips staying plastered to the oily and cold skin.

“No one else on the team relies on medication to function, I thought I would be fine, I feel so stupid always being the one having to rely on shit to get through the day.”

I could feel Leah rolling her eyes from above me.

“No one else on the team struggles with intense anxiety and depression like you do, we are all different, we all function differently. There is no shame in needing medication y/n/n, Lucy uses an asthma puffer, does that make her stupid?”

I looked over at Lucy, it was different.

“No but it’s different.”

“How?”

Leah’s answer was fired back at me and I struggled slightly to recover from her sudden reply,

“Lucy has a physical problem, mine’s just in my head.”

“What you went through today seemed pretty physical to me.”

I was stumped by that answer, looking across at Kiera and Lucy who nodded along with what Leah was saying.

“You struggle with your mental health, there is no shame in that. You rely on medication. So what? Good for you for listening to your body and acknowledging that you need that to help you make it through the day. Y/n, there is absolutely nothing wrong with using medication to help you. If I felt sick, with the flu, and I needed antibiotics or whatever, would you think that I was weak for using them?”

I shook my head at Leah almost immediately, the question was a no brainer for me,

“Exactly, because I’d be taking the medication needed to keep me well and functioning. All you are doing is the same thing y/n, keeping yourself alive and well.”

#leah williamson #lionesses #woso #leah williamson x reader #serena wiegman #lucy bronze #fluff #anxiety attacks #medication #angst #i love leah williamson #golden retriever leah vibes #supportive moms #england lionesses x reader #lionesses x reader

737 notes · View notes

slimyalienfreak · 1 year ago

Note

Hi I was wonder if I request tom wachowski with a goth sister and she comes and visits and the trouble trio absolutely LOVE HER because she’s so sweet 🥺

Tom Wachowski with a goth sister

Hey there thanks for the ask!

Honestly I’ve been feeling like shit for the past couple of days so seeing this ask actually put me in a better mood. Hope you enjoy it ~Blaze/Dawn

Pronouns: Not mention but reader is referenced to be female

Warning: ⚠️Slight mentions of Tails and Knuckles backgrounds in the second movie⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Tom + Maddie + Sonic + Tails + Knuckles

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Poster belongs to Sega and the people who created the Sonic movie + Banner by adorbbs (Edited By Me) on Pinterest

———————————

- Let’s start this off with Tom absolutely loves you, your his sister of course he does. He doesn’t care what you look like or what you do, he's going to support you all the way just like you did for him growing up and defend you from anyone who bullies you about your style. Of course he’s not going to get physical because he’s not really that type of person but he’ll definitely give them a talking to.

- You two often like to hang out when you both have the time with him being a cop and all. Since you often like to come visit him this means that you get to see Maddie a lot as well and she absolutely loves you as well. She’s definitely impressed with your style and absolutely loves it. I feel like she’ll definitely hype you up about what you wear. She also really appreciates your kindness and how you are willing to help her with some stuff.

- Now onto the trio:

- For Sonic I have a feeling you’ve met him some point near the end of the first movie. At first you two were surprised with each other. You were surprised because there was this random creature who claimed to be a hedgehog standing in front of you and was talking to you. If it wasn’t for Tom and Maddie managing to calm you down you honestly thought you were hallucinating. As for Sonic he was mostly surprised yet interested in you. Like sure he’s seen some interesting people when he was totally not stalking the town of green hills but you're different. He honestly admires you in a way. And to think that your ‘Donut lords’ sister just makes it even cooler.

- He definitely opens up to you quickly, this is mostly because of how you are around him. You treat him so nicely despite him clearly being different from you. If you’ve seen the second movie he considers Tom like a father to him and I like to think that maybe he considers you as an aunt. He also may or may not called you aunt one time when you visited him and yes he may have gotten teased by Tom about it but honestly you didn’t even mind. You're just glad that he feels that comfortable around you that he called you that.

- He definitely asked you if he could try on some clothes and of course you let him. Although they clearly didn’t fit him due to the size difference between you two but honestly he didn’t care, he’s having fun with it and may even give you a little fashion show while he’s at it.

- For Tails and Knuckles they’re kind of similar. Both of them met you at some point after the second movie. They mostly likely met you when you decided to catch up with the other three unaware of tails and knuckles. As soon as they heard the door open and to Sonic happily going over to you excited to see you with Tom and Maddie following behind him of course they got curious and when they saw you they were immediately surprised.

- For Tails I feel like he’d be a little caught off guard when he first saw you. He wasn’t scared of you of course but just like Sonic he hasn’t really seen anyone like you. But despite the initial surprise from him he actually kind of admires you. He really likes how you're open about your style and not really caring about what people think about it. He really appreciates that.

- Again just like Sonic he opens up to you quickly as well. Maybe even quicker than sonic. Since he didn’t really have anyone back on his planet seeing how kind you were to not only him but other people makes him kind of want to be around you 24/7. He really likes it when you visit.

- When you do visit over he really likes to show you his gadgets that he created and hearing you saying how cool it looks and how smart he is he couldn’t help but feel really happy that you enjoy them. If you're willing to listen he’ll explain in a lot of detail about them, even if you don’t really understand certain terms he’s saying. Seeing that you're listening to him explain it is enough for him. Maybe if he has the time he might make something for you. As a way of saying thank you.

- For Knuckles as mentioned in some of my previous posts, it takes him a while to open up to people even if they’re the kindest person in the world he’ll have trouble opening up to them. If you consider his backstory in the second movie it’s honestly understandable why. But despite this he’s actually really interested in you. Unlike Tails who may be caught off guard or for Sonic who was initially surprised when first meeting you, Knuckles surprisingly took an interest in you. But despite this he’s still a bit cautious of you so he kind of admires you from a distance. Eventually Tom notices this and somehow manages to convince Knuckles in one way or another to talk with you. This then eventually leads to him being more open around you.

- He’s kind of the same like Tails when it comes to being around you. He’s definitely very attached to you although not as open compared to Tails but still it’s kind of obvious that he is even if he doesn’t directly say it to you. Due to this he can be protective over you. If someone even dares look at you the wrong way or comments on your looks he’ll tear one into them before you eventually have to take him somewhere else.

- I feel like after hanging out with you just like Sonic he kind of sees you like an aunt due to you being related to Tom and how kind you are to him. Maybe accidentally called you aunt as well and Sonic may have teased him for it but quickly gets shut down but Tom when he said he did the exact same thing.

- Overall, although they show it differently all of them really appreciate you.

———————————

429 notes · View notes

v1nsmoke · 10 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀 // 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

oneshot - sonny corleone (the godfather) x reader

tw: a creep guy :(

summary: at your best friend's wedding, somebody helps you out - that somebody might have a thing for you, too

fandom: the godfather

a/n: mention of elvis presley, so uh… the timeline doesn’t match well, but i hope yall dont mind <3

tags: -

wc: 2.4k

Connie Corleone’s been one of your close friends for a while now. And we’re talking about a really long while here. At this point you were close to being considered her family. This brought other events, and most importantly other people in your path. You were very familiar with her family members, she considered you a sister since she didn’t have one. Brothers, on the other hand…

She had a whole bunch of brothers, at first you were even surprised by it, but with time, you managed to successfully bond with them. There was Tom, the adopted one, and Fredo, the one that everybody thought was adopted but actually wasn’t. Then there was Sonny, who didn’t even try to conceal his attraction towards you, and last, there was Michael, the youngest.

Over the years, you all grew close, but undeniably, Sonny was your favorite out of them all.

The day of Connie’s wedding had finally arrived. Of course, you were among the many guests. Out of them all, you barely knew anyone, or more like anybody. An unfamiliar face appears next to you. It was an about five and half feet tall, round man.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” He greeted you. To be fair, you had no intention of talking to him.

The man takes quick steps as he gets closer to you. His eyes slightly narrowed at the sight of you.

“Hey,” you softly smile. No words beyond that. “It’s nice seeing you here. That’s your uniform on you?” You ask, your pointing finger motioning at his clothing.

“You’ve got quite an eye,” he sighs with a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I always did have an eye for nice things.”

“Undoubtedly. Where’d you find yours?”

It wasn’t that he hated it. No, quite the opposite. He liked it. He liked it because it was on you, and it fit.

“A thrift store,” you replied. “Dress to impress, they say.”

“Who’re you trying to impress, sweetheart?”

Not you, that’s for sure, you thought.

“It hugs you perfectly, too tight, innit?” He grins. Yeah, no way you wanted to talk to him.

“It’s fine. Now, I reckon that other people are waiting for your company, so I’ll leave you to it,” you smile awkwardly at him, trying to brush him off.

“No, I’d rather spend my time with you,” he chuckles, grasping your wrist as you try to scurry away from him.

You shoot an anxious glare at the man, who refuses to let you go, even after you attempt to draw your hand out.

“Let me go. Now,” you demand, your soft attitude now gone.

“Don’t give me that attitude. I’m just trying to look out for you. That dress, it doesn’t seem too comfortable.”

“It is. So leave me alone. This is just harassment.”

The man rolled his eyes, scoffing slightly as his grip on you got a bit tighter.

“Seriously? I’m the one harassing you? That dress on you, to me, feels like pure harassment.”

“Don’t get cocky there, old man, I reckon you should fuck off now, before I shout it out that you’re harassing me.”

The man grabbed your waist, and now his face was mere inches from yours, his dark eyes bored into yours as he glared into yours.

“Harassing you? No sweetheart. Trying to keep those damn pests off of you? Yes.”

“You’re the pest that should be kept off of me!”

He huffed, his grip tightening, almost as if he was holding you captive.

“You better keep that smartmouth attitude of yours to yourself,” he whispered, leaning closer to your ear.

“Let me go you creep,” you grunt, trying your best to twist out your arm from his grip.

“For the love of God, will you stop? I’m just protecting you.”

“This isn’t protecting! You’re here preaching about other men looking at me, but what you’re doing is much, much worse!”

His eyebrow twitched at the name calling. He looked around to see if anyone was paying attention before looking back at you.

“Keep. Your. Voice. Down,” he huffed out through gritted teeth.

At this point his fingers were so clenched around your wrist, leaving imprints on your skin.

“What now? Scared that somebody will notice this? I hope someone does, and they get you off of me.”

“Keep your mouth shut, or see what happens.”

Enough bullshit. You bit his arm, your teeth digging deep into his skin. Why wouldn’t you? It was fucking deserved, from the start.

He hisses in agony, releasing his grasp as he pulls his arm back. With his other hand’s palm, he runs his fingers over the tiny, fresh marks on his skin. His skin became paler in those spots.

Without a word, you run off, making your way through the crowd of people.

You didn’t care where you were even going, as long as it was far away from that unknown man. Everyone here was unknown to you, not just that man. The only familiar face around the crowd was Sonny, stalking over to you. You could only hope that he didn’t want to talk to you at that moment. What would you even say? Was the previous event visible on you?

Sonny was making rounds, checking on the guests. That was, until he spotted you. Even from that distance, he could see that you were distressed. With quick steps, he pushed himself through the mass of guests gathered around in the garden.

“You okay?” He speaks in a soft tone, a concerned look on his face. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

“Oh, I haven’t been, I’m just on the verge of doing so,” you flash him a weak smile, trying to play it off. This was your best friend’s wedding, for God’s sake. “How you doin’?”

Sonny raised an eyebrow. He clearly didn’t believe you.

“Uh huh. Sure you haven’t. I’m doing fine. I’m not the one that looks like I’m gonna cry any second now,” he teased.

Of course, this moment couldn’t last an eternity. Make a guess who appeared behind you. I dare you.

“There you are,” the same man from before hisses through his teeth, almost getting a hold of your wrist again, but this time, you know better, and manage to pull your hand away just in time.

Sonny’s always been quick to react. Before the man can reach for you again, he steps in between the two of you.

“Now what’s with you?” He demands, looking the man straight in the eye. One of his hands was protectively covering you behind him.

“That bitch bit me!” The man roars.

Sonny looks over his shoulder, his brows knitted together, watching in anticipation, waiting for confirmation. There’s no way you would-

“I did. And it was well fucking deserved!” You lean forward lightly, almost unnoticeably, your finger pointing at the man. “He was harassing me!”

Confused, Sonny turns his head back at the man.

“He did?” He asked, the question aimed at you.

“You think I would bite some man for no reason?”

That was all it took for Sonny. He clenched his fist, and with a swift movement, he flung his arm towards the man, landing a punch straight into his face. The man staggered back some steps, even bumping into a random guest.

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” Sonny snarls at him viciously.

Not wanting the situation to escalate even further, you grab his arm, getting his attention. This was Connie’s wedding, no need to ruin it for her with this.

“Hey, enough. It’s nice of you, but I don’t think this is the time for this.”

He pants, looking into your eyes, nodding lightly as you speak. He, too, came to the realization that his sister’s wedding wasn’t the appropriate place and time to cause mayhem.

You found a quiet refuge under a tree, your lone self could finally be at peace. It was a big event, more people attended it than a literal Taylor Swift concert. It was loud, with many people. Overwhelming.

“Hey there,” the oh-so-familiar face trots up to you.

“Sonny, hey. I know I probably asked you this before, but how you doing?”

“Just doing rounds, making sure the guests are okay. Making sure the food is good, the whole shindig” he answered as he let out a sigh, his eyes now looking out into the party area. “I’d much rather be here, making sure you’re okay

“How heroic of you! No, really, I appreciate it. But shouldn't you check whether the food grew legs and ran off?”

Sonny chuckled at the comment, a smirk appearing on his face as he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“Very funny, smartass. But the food is well-behaved.”

“Did you train it personally?”

He snickered at that, a lighthearted chuckle escaping him.

“Nope, I just told them that I would eat them if they even think about running away.”

This time, you let out a chuckle too. Sonny’s always been kind to you.

“There’s the smile. I’m glad I’m getting laughs out of you,” he comments. “Y’know, for an introvert like yourself, you’re pretty damn good at being around rowdy people like my family.”

“The only rowdy person in your family is you. Michael barely even speaks.”

Sonny let out a scoff, a feigned annoyance on his face.

“Hey, that is absolutely not true! Have you seen Fredo when he’s drunk?”

“No, fortunately.”

He smirked at that, rolling his eyes jokingly.

“You’re lucky then. Fredo, when he’s drunk, is the loudest and rowdiest person ever! Especially when he starts to sing…”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words.

“And you? When you’re drunk, are you louder than usual too?” You ask.

Sonny chuckled slightly at the question, a cocky smirk on his face as he sat up again and leaned over towards you.

“No, no. I’m already loud as it is, sweetheart. Me drunk? People would be going deaf if I got louder” he joked with a playful tone.

“Oh, undoubtedly.”

“Now, why’d you gotta say it in such a nonchalant way?”

“Because I can. Now, get back in there, this is your kinda thing. Enjoy it while it lasts, y’know.”

“And you’re going to be sitting here on your own?” He asks.

For a moment, you were deep in thought. Yes, because you knew almost nobody. Yes, because the Corleones were all busy doing their own thing.

“Seems like it,” you blurt out calmly, a smile on your face.

Sonny hummed in acknowledgment, his expression turning more serious as he looked you up and down.

“If any of these idiots bother you, you come get me. Understand?”

“Understood, sir. I just didn’t plan on involving you last time.”

“Sweetheart, these bastards are my family. That makes them fair game for me to hit any day. I said come get me if you need me. Don’t let my dumbass cousins ruin your night. So, you better keep that promise. I’d hate to see someone upset such a pretty face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply with a gentle smile.

Sonny gave you a smile back, the cocky smirk replaced by a sincere one. He paused for a few seconds, as if contemplating something, before speaking up again.

“Actually, before I go back over there and drown myself in alcohol, I have a question for you”

“Speak your mind.”

Sonny bit his lip slightly, a rare look of uncertainty coming over his features, as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked at you for a few more seconds, as if debating with himself, before he spoke up again.

“Why’d you wanna sit here, all by yourself?” he asked the question softly.

“Why, I’m no good out there in the crowd all alone. You know the feeling when you’re lost in a crowd? That would be me.”

Sonny nodded in understanding, a small frown on his face. He knew you weren’t the biggest fan of big social gatherings, especially by yourself, so he could understand how lonely you felt here tonight.

“Don’t you have anyone to hang out with?”

“I wouldn’t say.”

He stayed quiet for a few seconds before he spoke up again.

“You can’t just sit out the whole night like this, all alone. C’mon, why don’t you hang out with me instead?”

“Oh, I’d scare those girls away,” You smile as you say jokingly.

“Sweetheart, even if you stay out here all night those girls will still crawl all over me. I’m just that handsome” he said, his smirk turning cocky again.

“Oh, you casanova.”

Sonny chuckled again, shaking his head at the nickname. He ran his hand through his hair, the smirk on his face never leaving as he looked over to you again.

“You know it,” he said with a playful tone, before his expression turned more serious again “but I’m bein’ serious. C’mon, sit with me instead of sitting over here all alone.”

“If it doesn’t bother you, it doesn’t bother me.”

Sonny nodded his head, a smile on his face again as he lightly bumped his shoulder against yours.

“Nah, of course it doesn’t. Better to talk to you then get hit on by some random girl all night.”

You squint your eyes, a suspicious look on your face.

“Wait…”

“Is something wrong?” Sonny raised an eyebrow at the sudden interjection, a confused look on his face as he leaned over towards you a bit.

“This isn’t the Sonny Corleone I know! There's no way, not a single way, that you would prefer talking to me than all those girls!” You chuckle.

Sonny chuckled again, a smirk on his face as he rolled his eyes again. He shook his head slightly, clearly amused that you thought that.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever smartass. I’d rather go one night without some random chick drooling over me and actually have an intelligent conversation instead.”

“C’mon then. They’re playing Elvis,” you say quietly, almost whisper-like.

Sonny nodded his head, slowly standing up from the ground and holding his hand out to you.

“C’mon, then. Let’s go watch ‘em play some Elvis.”

#v1nsmoke #oneshot #fanfic #sonny corleone #the godfather #francis ford coppola #mario puzo #james caan #jimmy caan

70 notes · View notes

mandoriana · 9 months ago

Text

Just some headcanon I have about Edwin Payne.

Edwin had two younger sisters, one called Elvira Payne and the other called Edith Payne, both were twins and were six years old when Edwin died.

(Elvira and Edith Payne)

He also had an older brother named Enrique Foster Payne, who no longer lived with the family.

(Enrique Payne)

Edwin was not close to his older brother, the two were only a few years apart, but Enrique disliked Edwin for being "too fem" or "too beautiful".

Enrique studied at the same boarding school as Edwin and, a year before finishing school, he told the older boys that his brother was a mary ann and that he loved playing with dolls with his sisters.

Neither of Edwin's parents really showed interest in what he did, but his father always praised his intelligence and his mother always praised his politeness, both of which are things that Edwin strived to maintain even after years in hell.

Edwin didn't like people or animals, but there was an orange cat that roamed his house and appeared every night at his window, Edwin fed and looked after the feline, the name he gave the cat was Tom, unfortunately he never saw the animal after he was sent to boarding school.

(Cat Tom)

His mother was called Arabella and his father was called Edgar.

(Arabella and Edgar Payne)

Edwin is autistic, but as he is already dead, some more physical aspects no longer affect him, for example, being sensitive to bright lights or loud noises, feeling discomfort with certain textures…

Edwin admired his mother and sisters' clothes, and always felt embarrassed about it.

Before his sisters were born, Edwin and his mother were closer, they painted pictures together, practiced the piano, went shopping together, even gardened, she treated him as if he were a daughter, as she always wanted to have girls.

Edwin is gay and gender fluid.

His favorite flowers are Forget-Me-Nots, they were his sisters' favorites too.

The only people who suffered from Edwin's death were Elvira and Edith, twins did not understand why his disappearance was an "act of god".

Edwin said terrible things before learning to live in a society completely different from his own. Really bad things that sometimes made Charles stop and look at his friend in horror before explaining how bad what Edwin said was.

Once Edwin understood how evil and prejudiced he to be, he would spend the next few days ashamed of himself and apologizing to any minority he offended with his words.

All the slang he knows is thanks to Charles.

"Handjob", "Manage" and any other current word that refers to sex or libidinous acts are always strange to Edwin, not because he is innocent, just because his only companion for 30 years was Charles and Charles is a defender of the honor of his friend, so he would never say such vulgar obscenities in front of Edwin, mainly because he knows he will be questioned and will have to explain it to him.

Edwin was considered rare and valuable in hell, many demons wanted his soul because he didn't belong there, and this led to Edwin being used as a bargaining chip several times before ending up in the "Doll house".

His notebook was something he took from one of the rooms in the "Doll house" so the pages never run out, and he can always use the notebook even after almost 100 years with it.

His soul is very strong thanks to the amount of pain he suffered in hell, things that would hurt normal ghosts have done nothing to Edwin unless it is a much greater amount.

He is one of the few ghosts capable of using magic, as spells cause a lot of pain since they require excess spiritual energy.

In 1990 Charles got a record player, Edwin taught Charles dance moves and Charles taught him some. When they weren't playing board games for fun, they were dancing.

Explaining to Edwin how Michael Jackson turned white was the hardest thing Charles did in all his afterlife years.

Edwin allowed himself to wear a dress once, then Niko offered to wear a suit, they didn't most it to anyone, but they had fun together in a small parade.

Although they didn't get along well at first, Edwin and Crystal are friends, whenever she has a female problem, like menstrual cramps, he offers to get her cocaine. (She loves it!)

Only Crystal can speak ill of Edwin, she will destroy heaven and earth if anyone says anything about him.

Crystal, Edwin and Niko always have an all-girls party, sometimes Edwin uses his "Niko's Aunt" disguise to pretend to be the mother of one of the girls when they need it, for example, he once used this disguise to talk to a Crystal's teacher who claimed that she was cheating (she was), although he himself didn't approve of Crystal's cheating he made a big show of stating that he would bring down the whole school if the teacher didn't apologize to Crystal and admit that she deserved the A+.

#dead boy detective agency #dbda #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #family payne #crystal palace #niko sasaki #best friends #genderfluid #gay ghost #genderfluid ghost #edwin payne dead boy detectives #headcanon #hc #netflix #cat king

49 notes · View notes

theceaselesshunger · 3 months ago

Text

Amalgam Prince Chapter 1: Drifter Busy Eating Burgies

Decided to post the WF fic here while I wait for my AO3 invitation. Here's a lil doodle to go with it!

January 8, 1999

Arthur stepped into the mostly-barren mall, the squelches of his effervon soaked feet reverberating through the enclosed space. They were accompanied by pops of electricity from derelict appliances and water dripping from at least a dozen leaks in the skylight.

Home sweet home. He punctuated the thought by bursting a balloon under foot as he approached the security office he had made into his command center. The worn office chair that occupied it welcomed him, calling him into its arms. He obliged, throwing himself into its mesh embrace. Three breaths. That’s how much time he’d give himself to relax before he resumed his vigil.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale…………… exhale.

Arthur’s hand found its way to a walkie-talkie. With the press of a button and a static screech, it came alive. “Status report.”

Aoi’s voice came through first. “Me and Amir are still checking over the wiring in the basement. Uhg, it’s a miracle the techrot hasn’t gotten into the mall’s power supply yet.”

Amir chimed in from the background. “It’s sure getting into everything else, though! Ever seen a security cam bloom? Reminds me of that movie by Tom Carpenter- look alive! We got a crawler!” The sounds of miasmite screeching crackled through the speaker before cutting out.

“Well, hope they ain’t dead,” responded Quincy. “All’s easy sailing on my end, Maj. Not an acid-huffin’ pig in sight.”

“Igual, same old same old at the ‘infirmary.’” Lettie’s scoff came through, followed by panicked shuffling. “Ay mierda, Anita get away from those gauze!”

Arthur smirked to himself. Same old same old indeed.

And yet it never really gets old, does it?

A feminine voice slipped into his mind. It felt less intrusive with every conversation, but Arthur remained unsure if he’d ever get used to it.

How’re you, Eleanor?

Oh, just resting. You know how close this couch and I are…

Arthur imagined the dramatic gesture she likely performed with that statement, lovingly caressing the upholstery or stretching provocatively upon it. He reclined back into his own seating, seemingly satisfied with the state of things. The Hex had been in dire need of normalcy (at least by their standards) after the New Years that never was. They… hadn’t really discussed it much, and he wasn’t going to rock that boat today. Perhaps he’d allow himself a moment to nod off. His eyes began to droop, the hum of a dozen CRT screens setting his nerves at ease. But just as sleep was about to embrace him, a thought held it at bay. He realized he had forgotten someone.

Oh, right. Eleanor, any idea what our guest is up to?

Our resident time-traveler? Give me a moment… Ah, food court. You know, you should really just give him his own radio so you don’t have to use me like a glorified GPS.

Yeah, yeah. Arthur sent his sister a feeling of gratitude as he rolled his chair along, trying to get an angle on said food court. He could just barely make out the time-traveler in question; the figure hunched over in one of the stalls. Was he eating? And vigorously at that, if the man’s shimmying was any indication. Arthur hadn’t felt comfortable sharing the location of their rations with the stranger just yet, but then what was he going to town on? The hobby chef in him had to admit he was quite curious to see what the people of the future considered a meal.

He pocketed the walkie-talkie and willed himself back onto his feet. He stepped gingerly towards the stalls, as if the new arrival might scurry off with their snack like one of Lettie’s rats. Moans and other sounds of satisfaction filled the air the closer he came. Marty was really enjoying whatever he got his hands on. Upon reaching the stall, Arthur bent ever so slightly to peer over the other man’s shoulder, only to see…

An Argon Burger™ Kids’ Meal?

“Seriously?” he questioned incredulously.

The Drifter sputtered and jumped, startled from his reverie. He cupped his hands around his mouth, ensuring none of its contents accidentally fell out. The look in his eyes was absolutely piercing as he turned towards the lieutenant. Arthur still found himself taken aback by their intense golden light.

“Dahn’t yoo know eet’s”- the Drifter swallowed- “Don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on someone while they’re eating?”

“Er, sorry. Just didn’t expect you to be eating, uh, stuff like that,” Arthur said while waving his hand towards the spread.

“As opposed to?” The Drifter took a sip of a cola that looked comically small in his hand. His lips curled into a tiny smile as he savored the sweetness.

“I don’t know. Space food? Venusian noodles or Martian omelettes or… something,” he said with an exaggerated shrug. “Something fancier than the bloody Höllar menu.”

The Drifter spoke in-between mouthfuls of fries. “First of all, I didn’t exactly have the option to bring food with me through the Helminth. Second, ‘Venusians’ don’t eat and Martians are long gone. And third-” another gulp- “I don’t know what a Höllar menu is.”

Arthur smirked at that. “Right… Where did you get that anyways? Most of the burger joints in this city have been closed for months.”

“A Scaldra locker. Was hoping to find some supplies, but can’t say I’m mad about this.” The Drifter messily shoved what remained of the child-sized hamburger into his mouth. His face was sheer bliss as he proceeded to suck his fingers one by one, not wanting to waste even a crumb of greasy goodness.

Arthur winced at the display, multiple questions running through his mind. One being why were Scaldra soldiers eating kids’ meals, but he went with a more pertinent one. “Wait, you just… took it from some bloke’s locker?”

The Drifter gave him a puzzled look. “Yeah? Why?”

“Scavenging supplies is one thing, but stealing a guy’s lunch is… Well, odd if I’m being honest. No bites already taken I hope.”

The other man averted his gaze as he reached for a napkin.

“Oh c’mon…”

“Look, look! The Tenno are honorable warriors but we have two rules: Don’t waste valuable resources. Such as food…” he added under his breath. “And if someone points their gun at you, whatever’s in their locker is your’s…” He smeared the napkin across his half-stubbled, half-metallic jaw, catching any stray sesame seeds or spots of ketchup. “... Cause they’re not going to need it for much longer.”

Right. Arthur grimaced as he watched the Drifter casually stuff the refuse of his meal back into its smiling container. The juxtaposition between the time-traveler’s quirks and the ease in which he dealt death made even the veteran soldier’s skin crawl. But maybe death felt cheap to those who could slug it off like a bad hangover. He didn’t understand it. Much as he tried not to dwell on it, his own had been haunting him for the past week. He could barely use the microwave without recalling the dry sting of the radiation burns.

He found himself scratching at his skin before a warbling sound and a flash of light snapped him out of it. In place of the Drifter stood a hulking creature of gilded steel and pulsating energy, a full head taller than Arthur. It looked down at him with impassive, rectangular eyes. Caliban, he believed the Drifter called it. A fully realized version of whatever the Hex had become.

“I’m going back out. Anything we need in particular?”

Arthur shook his head, shoving off the eerie sensation of hearing the Drifter’s voice coming from such an alien being’s… face? “We’re fine for now. Just see if you can find anything of use. No half-eaten burgers, please.”

The warframe shot him a thumbs-up as it turned towards the garage. Arthur was about to make his own exit until the weight in his pocket reminded him of his dear sister’s request.

“Wait! Take this with you. Eleanor’s been hounding me about it.”

He pulled out the walkie-talkie and tossed it to the Drifter, who snatched it mid-air like it was a toy. He regarded it for a moment, turning it around in his frame’s clawed hand. Arthur couldn’t quite tell, but the Tenno almost seemed amused.

“Thanks… But uh, how do I use it?”

“Sol help us…”

#i feel very rusty writing fiction so hoping to improve through this #they're not all gonna be this light #warframe #warframe 1999 #warframe drifter

15 notes · View notes

fortisfilia · 1 year ago

Text

Promised Part 5 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, sickness

Word count: 2.8k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 4 | Part 6

Part 5 - Making believe

The news about your fight with Tom had spread across Hogwarts quicker than you had thought was possible. Three days had passed and you were sure even the teachers knew about it by now. And everyone seemed to know more about it than you did.

There were stories about you hexing Tom in the hallways, about him threatening you there, about you almost drowning yourself in the lake, about Benjamin trying to kiss you, about you trying to kiss Benjamin. The list was endless. None of it was true and why anyone even cared was a mystery.

The way people looked at you made you angry to a degree where you had to control yourself not to smack them. Your anger was also fueled by the fact that Tom had not apologised yet. Three days. Feeling as long as three years when the whole school seemed to watch your every move while you were waiting for your future husband to make up his mind.

Those two words alone made your blood boil. Future husband. Who certainly was the most conceited, hot-headed, mistrusting bastard on earth. Who you had agreed to marry for your sister. Who thought you would cheat on him, in this imaginary relationship, on the first chance you got. With Benjamin Hilt... Maybe he was also the daftest future husband on earth.

But nonetheless, you wondered far too often when he would finally walk up to you and apologise. You had even considered apologising to him just so you wouldn’t have to ignore him anymore. But that thought hadn’t lasted longer than a minute. He had to learn his lesson.

Tom’s friends seemed awfully aware as well. Although Avery and Lestrange stayed out of your way, some others made you feel like you were constantly observed. Almost as if they were his spies, telling him where he could go to avoid you. Tossers.

The only person keeping you sane was Camille. She knew the truth and shut down every rumour that came to her ears. She had also tried to talk to Tom, much to your dismay. But he had ignored her completely.

“Still no news on the fiancé front?” Camille asked when you sat with her in the courtyard.

“Don’t call him that,” you answered.

“Sorry,” she said but smiled. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you soon.”

“You think so? I’m not so sure. And I don’t really care.”

Camille laid her hand on your shoulder. “You don’t care, huh?”

“I don’t.”

“Oh well… You talk about it an awful lot for someone who doesn’t.”

“You started it this time,” you grinned. Changing the subject seemed appropriate. She was right. “Do you want to study together around 5? In the library?”

“Sure. I still haven’t done the homework for Charms.”

“Me neither.”

You watched the people around the courtyard. They looked comfortable. Cosy with their scarves on. Carefree, wandering around and talking to their friends. It made you wonder if you looked like them too, or if they could see how bitter you felt. How uncomfortable and tired. If your poor attempt at faking indifference was enough to deceive them.

The bench where you sat with Tom three days ago was right next to you. You had specifically chosen not to sit there but at the one next to it. Not that anyone had a clue, not even Camille knew which exact bench it was. But it felt good to avoid it.

One of Tom’s friends, Evan Rosier, walked by. Another spy, another rat, running back to the nest, to tell him where not to go. He locked eyes with you for a brief moment but retracted ever so quickly and went inside.

“It’s cold,” Camille said and pulled your gaze away from the other students. She rubbed her hands together and crossed her arms. “Want to leave?”

“Just a few more minutes,” you said and took a deep breath. The cold air didn’t hurt. It was sharp and fresh, it kept you awake.

“Okay,” she answered and laid her head on your shoulder. “Look, Ben and his friends are over there.”

They sat on the ground next to the stone walls, about fifty feet away. They didn’t seem cold either. Some of them had their coats open, their scarves only hanging down loosely from their necks.

“They’re strange,” you mumbled.

“I know, right? Like outcasts. But cool ones.”

“Cool? I’m not sure about that.”

Camille laughed. “I don’t know. They seem so happy all the time. As if nothing mattered to them really.”

“If that was true, Ben would know how to mind his own business.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You turned your head away from them, looking to your left where you heard footsteps coming your way. And indeed, someone was approaching you. The person’s shoes seemed oddly familiar and all your muscles tensed when you looked up and found out who they belonged to. Tom.

Camille noticed your movements and raised her head. Tom stopped in front of you, not saying anything, just looking from you to Camille and back to you. She nudged your waist, silently asking what to do and a small nod was enough for her to understand.

“I, um,” Camille cleared her throat. “I think I’m going to go inside. I’m freezing. I’ll see you in the library at 5.”

You said your goodbyes, watched her leave, then looked up at Tom again and waited for him to say something. But he didn’t. He just looked back at you, or through you maybe, until he finally took a seat beside you.

He sat there, staring straight ahead in silence, even though you gave him every chance to speak. The wind tousled his hair in those everlasting minutes of curiosity. What was he doing here, if he didn’t want to talk?

People around you had noticed as well. They were looking over in turns and proceeded to whisper to each other. Like you wouldn’t notice.

“I have something for you,” Tom suddenly said and fiddled something out of the inner pocket of his coat. “My grandfather sent an owl.”

Seriously? Three days of silence and he came up to present you a letter? From Marvolo Gaunt of all people. The nerve of him.

“And?” you asked.

“And what?”

“Don’t you think you should say something first? Like an apology?”

He sighed and looked away again. As if he had known you wouldn’t let him get away with it. As if he had dreaded that moment.

“Yes,” he then said, so quietly you could hardly hear him. “I’m sorry for how I behaved. That I haven’t trusted you and that I didn’t let you speak.”

He looked like it hurt him physically to apologise. But it wasn’t enough.

You turned towards him, watching him staring into the distance. “Now look me in the eyes and say it again.”

Tom turned his head your way, his brows furrowed, eyes looking into yours, filled with such anger, making you regret what you had said. You couldn’t tell if he would rather stand up and leave, or curse you right then and there for what you asked of him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated nevertheless.

“Thank you,” you answered and wondered if you should comment on how long it had taken him. Better not.

Tom pointed to the letter in your hands. “Now read it.”

The parchment was old and smelled damp and mouldy.

“Tom,

I was informed by an unknown source that people at Hogwarts are doubting the authenticity of your relationship with your fiancée.

Someone sent a letter and implied they would notify the ministry about it if we wouldn’t cancel the wedding ourselves.

Let me remind you two, that our plan must go through. If it won’t, the little one will pay for it. Make her wear the ring if you must. And don’t mistake this for a gift, I want it back eventually.

Improve.

Marvolo Gaunt”

Breathing felt harder all of a sudden. There was a lump in your throat that burned and stung right down into your lungs. If the ministry would doubt the validity of your relationship, they could definitely null and void the marriage before it even happened. Which would be fatal.

“Merlin’s sake,” you sighed. “Who would do that? Threaten your grandfather...”

“You don’t know?” Tom asked and looked over to the group where Ben sat. “I got a suspect.”

“Of course… And what are we going to do about it?”

Tom took the letter and folded it back together, not taking his eyes off Ben. “Let me handle him.”

“What will you do?”

“Nothing too bad,” he said. “Possibly.”

He Put the letter back into his coat pocket and pulled something else out of it, then opened up his hand, showing off the ring Marvolo must have written about. It was a gold band, inset with a black stone. Engraved on the stone was a strange symbol - a triangle with a circle inside of it and a straight line in its centre. “Put this on,” Tom instructed. “And wear it for people to see. It should suffice as an engagement ring.”

He slipped it onto your left ring finger quickly, his fingers brushing over yours for only a moment. An unceremonial act that would have made you laugh if the situation weren’t so dire. “I’ve never seen a ring like this.”

“It’s a family heirloom from the house of Gaunt and the Peverell’s,” he explained. “Marvolo wouldn't want you to know that. It's one of a kind. And very valuable.”

“That’s why he wants it back,” you concluded.

Tom nodded.

“And how does Marvolo expect us to improve?” you asked. “We can’t change what people think about us.”

“Make them believe. It’s not that hard to fool people.”

He was right. Tom might have been a prick, but he certainly wasn’t a fool. If rumours about your fight spread so quickly, rumours about you making peace would spread even faster.

“Hold my hand,” you said.

“What?”

“We have to make them believe. Better start right away. There are lots of people around. Maybe we can even trick Ben and his friends.”

He restrained for quite a bit, then ever so slowly reached for your hand, not looking at you. His skin was warm from being inside, almost hot against yours and he felt stiff and mechanical, as if he didn’t know how to behave or was repulsed even by this minimal contact. It was uncomfortable, having your hand lying in someone else’s, who didn’t really hold it but simply let it lay there.

You adjusted your fingers and put them right against his, which made him turn towards you. His pulse pumped softly against the tips of your fingers. It was faster than you had thought and made you smile. Tom didn’t. But he looked at you, differently.

His brows weren’t furrowed anymore, the anger from before completely washed away. His eyes were open, studying your face with a deadpan stare until he squinted.

“You’re cold,” he said and brought his other hand around the back of yours, now properly holding it with both of his.

“I’ve been here for a bit,” you told him and looked around, letting his unfamiliar warmth spread through your veins. “I think it’s working.”

“Hm?”

“The people. They’re watching.”

Tom took a glance, his fingers twitching as he did. The other students turned away one by one when his gaze neared them. Even Ben and his friends had noticed but ducked their heads now too.

Making people believe was easier than expected.

“And he really held your hand? Wow. Even I wouldn’t have guessed that,” Camille whispered when you told her about what had happened.

“I know, me neither,” you said while opening the Charms textbook.

“And I wasn’t there to see it. Damn it. I knew I should have peeked around a corner.”

“Gross,” you joked and looked around if anyone could hear you.

The library was quite full, but you had found a desk at the far end, where no one would bug the two of you.

Studying with Camille was, as unbelievable as it may sound, one of the best parts of school. It brought tranquillity and effect together. Feeding your brain with new information and sharing it with one another was a sensation you got nowhere else. No matter how dry, or tricky the material was, you had always found a way to remember. You were great together. Balanced. And she brought chocolate, every time. Major plus.

It had gotten dark outside a while ago when you finished the Charms essay. Only then you noticed how tired your eyes were from the dim light. Camille had completed hers two chocolate bars ago and was waiting for you by the window.

“Done,” you sighed. “Finally.”

“Great. Let’s go then,” she said and started packing up her things.

“I haven’t proofread.”

“Oh,” Camille nodded and teetered from one foot to another.

“But you can go. Really. You’ve already waited for so long. I’ll just read it again and then I’m off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Somewhere you need to go?”

“The loo,” she whispered and you laughed.

“Then run!”

You rubbed your eyes and folded the parchment flat out under your hands. One more read-through and you were done. It was even quieter around you, now that Camille had left. The only things you heard were the librarian’s steps, as she tiptoed through the rows every now and then, and some quills scratching on paper from afar. It was a hypnotic silence, that made it easier to read. So easy, you didn’t even notice someone walking up to you.

The sound of the chair next to you screeching lightly over the floor was so startling, you almost knocked over your inkwell.

“Merlin’s sake,” you whispered as you screwed down the small bottle. “You can’t creep up on me like that. Almost ruined my essay.”

“Pardon me,” Tom said. “Who could have thought people had to be quiet in a library?”

You shot him a look to prevent yourself from telling him to keep his cocky jokes to himself. “What are you doing?”

He opened up a book, giving you the same look in return as if to say, what do you think people do in here. “Reading.”

“Alright then,” you said and leaned over your parchment again.

Just a few more pages. But suddenly the words you had written didn’t make sense anymore. You had to read each sentence twice, to even understand what they meant. And you were awfully aware of your breathing. Tom made you nervous.

It took you twice as long to read one page and the fact that you watched him from the corner of your eye every other moment didn’t help.

Concentrate. Forget he’s even here. You had eventually found somewhat of a rhythm again, laying one paper aside, when Tom touched your hand.

You automatically jolted and looked over to him. He was still reading his book, now holding your hand firmer, more proper than earlier that day. It seemed like he wanted to finish this particular paragraph before he looked back at you. And the blank expression on his face said more than ever before. It was a mix between him waiting for you to pull away and simultaneously telling you not to dare to move.

It was the same silence, the same tension that occurred when he had come for dinner at your house, when you were alone in the dining room with him. But yet, it felt so different.

So you held him, too. Quietly. Still staring at him. While no one spoke a word.

Your fingers folded along the back of his hand perfectly, like they were meant to be there.

And then, he moved. His thumb swayed back and forth across your skin, so lightly you could barely even sense it. So softly, as though he was scared it could hurt and break you. His eyes were fixated on you. He studied every breath, every flutter of your eyelashes, every muscle moving in reaction to his touch.

And there it was. Something different in his eyes. Something more than the notorious apathy. A spark, a tiny hint of what you would call emotion.

Something you had never seen on him. It suited him well. So you let him feast on it. For forever if he asked you to.

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 6

59 notes · View notes

tomhiddlestonfanfic · 1 month ago

Text

He Loves Me Not Chapter Twenty-One

Ch.1 - Ch.2 - Ch.3 - Ch.4 - Ch.5 - Ch.6 - Ch.7 - Ch.8 - Ch.9 - Ch.10 - Ch.11 - Ch.12 - Ch.13 - Ch.14 - Ch.15 - Ch. 16 - Ch. 17 - Ch.18

Summary & Chapter Index

TITLE: He Loves Me Not

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: 21/?? WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor Tom OTHER CHARACTERS: Benedict Cumberbatch PAIRING: Tom Hiddleston/OFC GENRE: Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance, Teen Angst, Coming of age

FIC SUMMARY: Norah is a troubled teenager who is secretly and obsessively in love with her sister Sarah’s boyfriend, Tom. Sarah constantly worries about her younger sister, who is struggling with depression and anxiety, and one night, after a long evening at a charity event, Tom decides that he has had quite enough of Norah’s at times reckless and what could be considered rather selfish behaviour. He reveals a new side of himself as he desperately tries to help Norah break her vicious circle of self-destruction and open her eyes to the beautiful things in life. Could he be Norah’s knight in shining armor? Or will his efforts prove to be all in vain? Is his mere presence actually doing more harm than good? Could he ever love her the way she loves him?

WARNINGS: This story contains potentially triggering subjects such as Depression, Anxiety, Self-Harm, Self-Destruction, Eating Disorders, Talk About Suicide and Suicidal Ideation. It also deals with the subject of Grief and contains Previous Character Deaths. Other potentially upsetting subjects this story contains are Spanking Fantasies, Sexual Fantasies, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Age Difference and Age Play.

WRITER'S NOTE:

I realise this might strike you as odd, me updating this story after such a long time. But I rediscovered after getting some very nice positive response on it on one of the platforms I use to post it, and I went through my notes and realised that I did have a few drafts for chapters written on it. I read through them and I decided that I feel okay with posting them now. My intention has always been to finish this story someday and give it a proper ending. Your support for my writing means the world to me. As I write, I constantly learn new things and ways to express myself in a language that is not my native language, and it's quite wonderful, really.

I want to thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for reading my work. Please, take care, and feel free to comment on my writing or just get in touch me if you want to.

Love, F.

If you are having a hard time and think that stories containing any of those subjects might have a negative effect on your wellbeing, I advise against reading it and wish you the best of luck. Please, take care of yourself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Noncompliance

'Maybe you’ll get a replacement There’s plenty of me to be found Mongrels who ain’t got a penny Sniffing for tidbits like you On the ground, ah, ah

So goodbye yellow brick road Where the dogs of society howl You can’t plant me in your penthouse I’m going back to my plough'

Norah stared blankly out the car window, not taking notice of the change in scenery outside as she listened to the lyrics of the song. Tom had made her playlists of music that made him think of her in one way or another. She found it sweet that he thought about her enough to produce playlists with hours of music for her. Some of the lyrics and music really spoke to her in a way she had not anticipated. She felt a strong love for music and sometimes looked up more songs by the bands and artists on the playlists because Tom’s song recommendations had awoken an interest in her. Listening to Tom’s playlists made her feel closer to him in a way, but he was still always out of her reach somehow, even when he was sitting right next to her, like now.

Sarah was sitting in the backseat reading through the paperwork related to Norah’s admittance to the treatment facility called Willow’s Creek. Norah had been assigned to stay in a section called ‘The Wood Anemone’. After learning about her doctor’s decision to send her there because of the incident at new year’s eve, Norah had promptly refused to look in the brochure about the place. She had dramatically torn it into pieces and spread them out in her doctor’s office like confetti after having it handed to her. Sarah had made sure to keep the rest of the papers away from Norah, fearing that she otherwise might do the same to them. Norah felt furious by how things had ended up like this, especially after having that nice doctor, Darius Feresteh, who her ordinary doctor was supervising, getting her hopes up about her actually having a choice in all this. It was a small comfort that Darius had actually seemed quite openly displeased with his supervisor when the decision had been made and offered Norah some encouraging words before she left the doctor’s office that afternoon her fate had been sealed and decisions had in their usual fashion been made over her head.

Darius had taken her aside and looked at her with compassion in his warm, kind eyes. ‘I’m really sorry about all this, Norah. I didn’t expect them to disrespect your right to make your own decisions like this. Maybe I’ve been too naive to realise just how great the discrepancy between how I think things should be done and how they are actually done is. But I know you will get through this and I’ve met patients who have been to Willow’s Creek and completely turned their lives around. I’ve visited the place a few times and let me assure you, it really isn’t as bad as you might think it is.’

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, the tenth of January 2016, to be more precise, and Norah felt like a convict being transported to the penitentiary where she would serve her sentence. At least she got to sit in the front seat with Tom, rather than in the back of a police transport, Norah thought to herself. She had recovered from the incident at new year’s eve, at least physically. The bruise on her cheekbone was barely visible even when she was not wearing any makeup to cover it up. As they approached their destination, Norah checked her makeup in the mirror to make sure that she looked presentable. She didn’t want to make a bad impression on the other teenagers living in the treatment facility by looking unkempt. One of the upsides of having short hair was that it was a lot easier to brush and style than her long hair had been. Norah sighed heavily once she saw the sign that read ‘Willow’s Creek’ and turned to look pleadingly at Sarah in the backseat.

“Please, don’t make me go,” Norah begged. Sarah looked up at her sadly and shook her head in response.

“I’m so sorry, but your doctor has decided that this will be a safer environment for you right now,” Sarah said regretfully. “It’s only for a while. I think you even might enjoy yourself here, there are horses and -”

“I won’t,” Norah interrupted irritably. “I’m going to hate every damn second of it.”

When the car came to a stop in the parking lot Norah looked up to see that there was a woman and a man approaching the car. She crossed her arms to express her dissatisfaction and refused to make eye contact with any of them as they looked at her.

“It’s going to be alright, Norah,” Tom said and undid her seatbelt before gently patting her shoulder. “The grown up thing to do in situations like these is to face reality and try to make the best of it.”

“Clearly I don’t qualify as a grown up yet, since I apparently have no say in this. So you can take your grown up advice and show them up your-” Norah got distracted by the car door suddenly opening next to her and didn’t finish her sentence. She looked up to find Sarah smiling gently at her and sighed heavily in response.

“It’s time,” Sarah informed her as if she didn’t know it already.

“I don’t want to,” Norah mumbled.

“I know. I don’t want this either, but we have no other choice,” Sarah replied.

“There’s always a choice,” Norah muttered.

“Even if I would insist on keeping you home, your doctor would have the law on her side and make you go here either way. The difference would be that I would no longer have a say in how long you would have to stay here. It’s better this way,” Sarah explained. Norah knew this already, but she still felt upset with Sarah for bringing her there voluntarily. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

Norah held back a smile at her sister’s words as they reminded her of a Pink Floyd song that Joe had introduced to her. ‘That will keep you going through the show. Come on, it’s time to go.’ She thought about Joe for a moment and felt a bit more at ease. He had encouraged her to use the place to her advantage, just like he had done when he was in rehab. His stories of success and setbacks made her feel a little bit more at ease.

“Norah, come on,” Sarah said, bringing Norah back to the present.

“Fine,” Norah muttered and reluctantly got out of the car. She grabbed her backpack from the floor in the front seat and put it on. Tom had already grabbed her bag from the car boot and carried it for her. Sarah was carrying a bag of things she had insisted on packing for Norah.

The woman and the man introduced themselves as Jane and Max. As they walked towards one of the buildings, Max spoke with great enthusiasm about the place, making sure to mention all the good things about it. He spoke excitedly about going horseback riding, painting, playing musical instruments, practising yoga and mindfulness, and doing different sports. Jane smiled gently at Norah when they briefly made eye contact, but Norah didn’t return the smile, instead she quickly looked away in an attempt to discourage the woman from speaking directly to her. It seemed to work.

They showed Norah her room and put her things there, before walking to an office. Norah slumped down in an armchair near the door. Sarah and Tom sat down on each side of her, while Max and Jane seated themselves across from her.

“Sarah and Tom, are you in a hurry to get somewhere, or could you stay for about an hour while Norah gets settled?” Jane asked.

“We can stay,” Sarah confirmed.

“That’s nice. Then you can help Norah unpack and add a more personal touch to her room,” Jane said with a gentle smile. She then went on to talk about the rules, or common values, they had at The Wood Anemone.

“You will have your own personalised schedule to live by,” Max proceeded to say once Jane was done talking. He said it as though it was something to be excited about. He felt a bit too positive for Norah’s liking. It was bound to get on her nerves if it would turn out he always was like this. “Do you like horses?” he wondered.

“Umm, sure,” Norah replied.

“Good. Then I’ll put you on the list for our twice weekly visits to the stables. Do you know how to ride a horse?” Max asked her.

“Not really,” Norah replied.

“Then this is a perfect opportunity for you to learn something new,” Max said with a smile.

“She’s great with animals,” Sarah told him. “When we were kids she wanted a pegasus. Norah, do you remember that?”

“No,” Norah replied, even though she vividly remembered how Sarah had made her believe that flying horses really existed. She resisted the urge to smile at the memory, because she didn’t want anyone to get the impression that she was anything but dissatisfied about being there. It had to be made clear to everyone involved that she did not want to be there.

Jane and Max told her about what an ordinary day in the treatment facility could look like, and explained to her that her days would be customised to fit her personal needs and preferences. Norah seriously doubted that she would be able to enjoy her stay there no matter how much they tried to adapt things after her preferences.

“Well, I would prefer not to stay here, because I really don’t need to be here,” Norah told them irritably. “Could you customise my schedule based on that?”

Max smiled at her. “Come on. I promise you, it’s not nearly as bad here as you think it is,” he said encouragingly.

“It’s probably worse,” Norah muttered.

“Give it a week and we’ll evaluate your time here. If you still hate it here by the end of the week, we may need to consider other options,” Max told her.

“What other options are there?” Norah asked.

“You could always be transferred to another treatment facility, perhaps a bit closer to home. But I don’t think that will be necessary,” Max replied confidently as the five of them left the office together. He seemed to have great faith in that place’s ability to help people. “I will be one of your contact persons here at The Wood Anemone. The other two are called David and Samantha. You can of course talk to all the other staff members here when you need help with anything, but the three of us will have the most knowledge about your situation and personal needs. So you should mainly turn to us about things regarding your stay here.”

‘Great,’ Norah thought sarcastically to herself and sighed. Of course she would have to be assigned with a chatty contact person. She was hoping the other two would be less upbeat and energetic than Max. She found his cheerfulness somewhat disturbing, and they had only just met. She quietly wondered how his good mood would affect her if he kept this up. It would probably drive her insane.

“It was really nice to meet you, Norah. I will see you again tomorrow,” Jane said before saying goodbye to Sarah, Tom and her colleague, wishing them a good day.

“Let’s get you settled,” Max said cheerfully. “Did you bring any posters for your walls like we suggested in your admittance letter?”

“No. I never bothered to read the damn letter,” Norah informed him irritably.

“I see. That’s perfectly fine. We have a bunch of posters to choose from if you like. The idea is that by personalising your own room, you might feel more at home here faster,” Max explained. Norah glared darkly at him before turning away from him.

“That’s a nice concept,” Sarah said and smiled as she took a closer look at the room Norah had been assigned. “Look Norah, the walls are bright purple instead of sterile white,” she pointed out.

“Great,” Norah said sarcastically as she went to lay on the bed, kicking her boots off. It was the new ones that she had gotten from Tom.

“Is it comfortable?” Tom asked her and gently pushed her legs aside to sit on the edge of the bed. “It’s bouncy,” he commented and Norah bit her lip to hold back a smile at how dorky she found his comment.

Sarah smiled at the two of them before proceeding to open the bag of things she had packed for Norah. “Do you need to look through her things or anything?” Sarah asked Max.

“It’s standard procedure,” Max explained with a shrug and an apologetic smile.

“I understand,” Sarah replied and unpacked the bag, putting everything out on the desk by the window so Max could look through everything. Norah just remained on the bed while Sarah and Tom, under Max’s supervision, proceeded to unpack her clothes for her, putting them in the closet.

“You don’t need to unpack everything, I’m not planning on staying that long,” Norah muttered irritably as she watched them go through her stuff. She always hated that part when it came to psychiatric wards and treatment facilities. It made her feel like a criminal.

“Norah, could you come over here for a moment, please?” Max requested from where he stood leaning over the desk. Norah was taken aback by the seriousness in his voice and reluctantly got out of the bed to walk up to him. Her heart sank once she saw the small razor that had been hidden beneath the pencils in her Faber-Castell metal pencil case.

“I must have put it there years ago and forgotten about it,” Norah told him awkwardly.

“I understand,” Max replied and gave her a gentle smile. “I just want you to be completely honest with me. Okay? No one’s upset with you, Norah. But it’s important that you tell the truth. Do you have anything else among your things that you’re not supposed to have?”

“Not that I know of,” Norah replied truthfully.

“Norah, do you smoke?” Max wondered as he reached into her backpack and took out a lighter.

“Umm, no, not really,” Norah said.

“Do you burn yourself?” he asked.

“It’s happened,” Norah told him honestly.

“I appreciate your honesty,” Max said and put the lighter in his pocket. “I’ll confiscate this.”

“What if I start smoking? Will I get it back then?” Norah questioned, causing Max to smile.

“If you need to smoke, someone from the staff will lend you a lighter,” he explained.

“You’re not planning on picking up smoking, now are you?” Sarah asked her with a sigh.

“Why not? Tom smokes, even though he says he has quit. You’re addicted to caffeine and sometimes you drink too much wine while studying,” Norah pointed out provocatively. “You call me self-destructive, but you’re just as bad, if not worse. You’re denying yourself rest and time to recover after intense periods of stress. It’s just a matter of time before you crash and burn, you know.”

Sarah looked at her little sister with sadness in her eyes, but she still managed to force a smile. “Don’t worry about me, Norah. I’ll be fine. Just focus on taking care of yourself and doing things that are good for you.”

“Only if you promise to do the same,” Norah demanded. “Take at least one day off from studying every week.”

“I’ll take one night off, every week,” Sarah negotiated. “The course I’m reading right now demands a lot of time and effort.”

“I suppose things will get easier for you now that you’re finally rid of me,” Norah remarked. “Maybe this is exactly what you need; a proper break from my melodramatic self.”

“You know as well as I that I want you to be home with me. Your doctor gave me no other choice,” Sarah defended herself.

“She presented you with a perfect opportunity to not have to be the bad guy and still get rid of me,” Norah said irritably. She felt like she truly no longer cared about what anyone thought about her. She wanted to get under Sarah’s skin and hit her where it would hurt the most. “She presented you with an offer you could simply not resist. But not in the Godfather kind of way,” she added, looking at Max. “I can assure you that there were no horse heads in any beds.”

“I’m relieved to hear that,” Max replied humorously.

“Norah, would you please stop this?” Tom requested. “I know it may feel good to hurt somebody else when you yourself are hurting. But it usually doesn’t feel good afterwards.”

“And what do you know about true pain, Tom? You’re like the luckiest and most popular person I know. You’re well-respected, have a girlfriend that would do anything for you and you’re pretty much flawless. I mean, seriously, what the hell do you have to complain about?” Norah questioned.

“I suppose that what hurts me the most right now is loving and caring about someone who clearly doesn’t love herself,” Tom replied. “You’re correct in assuming that I consider myself a lucky person. But that doesn’t mean that there are no downsides to my life and career.”

“Poor little rich man,” Norah muttered sarcastically.

“There are things that are more important than money, Norah,” Tom replied, seemingly genuinely hurt by her words.

“That’s easy to say when you have all the money you need, and even more,” Norah muttered, holding back her bad conscience about what she was saying. She was entitled to feel hurt by the fact that they would be leaving her there all alone with strangers. It felt even worse as she thought about what a relief it would be for them to not have to look after her anymore.

“I know you’re hurting, Norah. And I’m so sorry about that,” Tom said and slowly approached her. “You have every right to be angry with us, because we’ve brought you here against your own will. But hopefully, one day, you’ll understand our decision.”

“I’m not an idiot. Of course I understand,” Norah said with tears in her eyes as Tom embraced her. “But it still fucking hurts,” she cried.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Max told them quietly before leaving the room with the razorblade and the lighter.

Norah opened her eyes as she kept hugging Tom and looked directly at her sister, whose tears ran down her face.

“I love you,” Sarah said and walked up to take her little sister’s hand in her own. She kissed it. “I love you so much it hurts.”

“I love you too,” Norah replied sadly.

Norah still felt sad and let down as the three of them arranged her unpacked things together.

“What’s this?” Norah asked as she was looking at her desk. There were two pairs of black pants and a pair of shoes she hadn’t seen before.

“It’s riding pants. One pair is for the winter season, and the other pair is for when it gets a little bit warmer outside,” Sarah explained. “And the shoes have steel toe-caps in case a horse steps on your feet.”

“So you’ve taken for granted that I will want to ride the horses?” Norah asked her.

“I know how much you love animals, so I assumed that you would want to spend time with the horses now that you have the opportunity to,” Sarah replied.

“Thank you,” Norah said appreciatively and put the clothes in the closet. She held back a smile at the sight of two jigsaw puzzles with a thousand pieces in each. One of the puzzles had the painting ‘The Scream’ by Edvard Munch on it and the other one had ‘The Starry Night’ by Vincent van Gogh.

“I bought a game called Pandemic,” Sarah said and moved the various toiletries away from the rectangular cardboard box. “I figured you could play it with the others.”

“You want me to socialise,” Norah concluded with a sigh and walked up to the sink attached to the wall to look at herself in the mirror. Her mascara and eyeliner were slightly smudged from her crying earlier, so she grabbed her makeup bag and proceeded to fix it. She caught Sarah and Tom smiling at each other, as if they were happy about her new found vanity. Months ago, Norah wouldn’t have bothered to put any makeup on to begin with. But she felt differently about that now. She wanted to look good and not make a fool out of herself in front of the other people staying at that place, especially not those her own age.

Right after Sarah and Tom left, Max sat down with Norah so they could fix her week plan together. Norah frowned when she saw the meal times on her week plan. According to the plan she was expected to eat six times a day, just like she had when she had been underweight. In the last few weeks she had skipped having snacks once, twice, sometimes three times a day.

“This must be a mistake,” Norah said. “I don’t need to eat snacks between meals anymore.”

“You’ve stopped having snacks in between meals?” Max asked her with a slight frown and looked through his papers. “According to my papers, your doctor hasn’t authorised that.”

“I’m not underweight, so I don’t need to eat that much,” Norah told him decidedly and crossed her arms.

“According to your doctor, you still need to follow your meal plan,” Max insisted. “Look Norah, you’ve only just reached a weight that’s acceptable. It’s a vulnerable time period for you and you will need extra support to keep up the good and normal eating habits so you don’t start losing weight again.”

“Normal?!” Norah questioned angrily. “My sister doesn’t normally eat six times a day. If it hadn’t been for me, she probably would have skipped most meals to study instead.”

“Your sister strikes me as a very dedicated person. Based on my conversations with her, she cares about you a lot and wants you back home as soon as possible,” Max said. “When it comes to the number of meals you need to eat, I really have no say. It’s up to the doctors.”

“To hell with the doctors then! I won’t do it!” Norah informed him angrily, causing Max to frown slightly at her.

“Noncompliance to your treatment plan won’t get you home any faster, Norah. If you want more freedom, you have to prove that you can handle it by taking responsibility,” Max reasoned. “I know it might sound a bit harsh, but that’s the way it is. It’s for your own good.”

“I thought you said this was a treatment facility, but it sounds more like a correctional facility,” Norah told him bitterly.

“Trust me, this is not a correctional facility by any means. They’re very different to this,” Max assured her.

“In what ways?” Norah questioned.

“A lot of ways,” Max said. “You won’t be under constant surveillance here, you will not be locked into your room at night and you have nowhere near all the restrictions people in correctional facilities have. Trust me. This place is very different and much preferable.”

“To me this feels like a prison,” Norah said with a frustrated sigh.

“You haven’t even been here for two hours yet,” Max pointed out. “So how can you possibly know what it’s like already?”

“I already know that I hate it. It’s really a waste of resources to have me here. Please, give this ‘opportunity’, as you all love to call it, to someone who will actually do something with their life, instead of me,” Norah told him.

“Is that the real problem here?” Max asked her pensively. “Do you feel guilty for taking up a spot and are you afraid of disappointing people?”

“I always disappoint people,” Norah said quietly and laid down on the bed. “That’s the only thing I’m really good at in life. Being a fucking disappointment.”

“That’s not true and you need to stop thinking it is,” Max told her insightfully. “You seem tired, Norah. Do you want to take a break and talk more about your week plan later tonight or tomorrow instead?” he asked her.

“Yeah, I want a break,” Norah told him.

“Okay,” Max agreed and stood up, gathering his papers. “Can you set an alarm for ten to six PM on your phone? You’re expected to be in the dining room ready for dinner at six on the dot. I suggest you use the toilet before that, because you won’t be excused from the table during dinner but will have to finish your food before you can leave and then you will have an hour of quiet time in the big common room after you have finished your meal.”

“That’s not fair! I’m at normal weight so I don’t need quiet time, damn it!” Norah protested and felt like acting out her anger in some way.

“I understand that it makes you upset and that’s perfectly fine,” Max validated her. “But like I said before, this is a vulnerable time for you in your recovery process. You’ll need extra support to get through this. It won’t be as bad as it sounds, Norah. You’ll notice that the routines here are quite different from the routines in locked psychiatric wards. Things are not as strictly regulated here, but a ground stone for the treatment here at Willow’s Creek is mutual trust between attendants and staff members,” he calmly explained to her. Norah absolutely hated the fact that the staff insisted on calling the patients attendants, as if that would really make any difference. In her ears, it was nothing but a silly change in wording to make it sound more convenient for the people working there and reading about the place. It didn’t change the fact that the people treated there were in fact patients with limited power over their own lives. When Norah kept glaring at him he sighed and asked her “Do you have a list of things you can do when you feel upset to regulate your emotions?”

“If I had one, I would probably tear it apart right now,” Norah muttered bitterly.

“I strongly suggest that you don’t destroy information booklets or working material when you get upset, Norah,” Max advised her. “At this stage in the process, compliance is key. You need to show that you can take responsibility before you can move on to the next step.”

“I thought this place was supposed to make people like me more independent, but if you’re requiring blind compliance without questioning, it’s in fact doing the exact opposite,” Norah argued, crossing her arms.

“You need to show that you can act responsibly before gaining more freedom to grow independent, and one way of doing that is to adhere to our regulations,” Max informed her. “Freedom under responsibility. It’s one of our mottos. I strongly suggest that you read through the material we sent you.”

“I don’t have it, after I tore apart the brochure, my sister took it from me,” Norah explained, causing Max to sigh.

“If I give you a new set of material, do you promise you won’t destroy it in any way?” Max asked her.

“Sure,” Norah replied. “Could you give me something I can destroy too then?”

“You don’t need to destroy things, Norah,” Max told her and looked at her sympathetically before leaving the room.

Norah laid back down on the bed and quickly fell asleep. Of course she forgot to set her alarm, resulting in her getting woken up by Max after she had failed to turn up to dinner on time.

“I thought I told you to set an alarm so you wouldn’t be late for dinner,” Max told her.

“I never said I would, though,” Norah replied irritably as she forced herself to get out of bed.

“This is your first warning,” Max informed her brittly as he led her to the dining room.

“Warning?” Norah questioned confusedly.

“You can ask the other attendants to explain it to you,” Max suggested and walked with her all the way to the long table where he pulled out an empty chair for her. “This is your assigned seat. Since you were late for dinner, someone has already put food on your plate for you. When you’re on time, you can do it yourself,” he explained to her in a clear voice. “Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah, why are you such a dick?” Norah asked him irritably and stubbornly refused to sit down by the table.

“Second warning,” Max informed her calmly but with a warning look, causing her to frown.

“But I just answered your question,” she objected.

“You were being deliberately rude,” Max remarked. “If you were wondering why I’m so strict, you should have phrased it differently.”

“Is this some kind of test?” Norah asked him confusedly and he smiled at her.

“No, but you’re clearly testing the limits, which is why I have to put my foot down,” Max explained to her in a way that she couldn’t help but find somewhat condescending.

“Blind compliance is not independence! It’s sheep mentality! Which is the complete opposite of independent thinking! Are you a fucking shepherd?! And we’re nothing but sheep in your eyes?!” Norah questioned angrily, raising her voice a lot more than intended. She could feel the other patients and staff stare at her as Max pulled her aside, a few metres away from the long table for some privacy.

“Either you sit down and eat with the others right now, or you get to sit over there with me and my colleague and eat. Which one do you prefer?” Max asked her. He was firm, but still surprisingly calm.

“I don’t want to sit with you,” Norah muttered.

“Then I expect you to act responsibly and not raise your voice like that again. I really should give you a third warning for this outburst of yours, but I’m going easy on you since this is your first day here. But keep in mind that this kind of behaviour is not acceptable here,” Max told her firmly. “Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Norah said, feeling so small and powerless all of a sudden. She had no idea how this place worked and just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Good,” Max replied with a breezy smile and walked off to a smaller table on the other side of the dining room.

Aileen frowned in confusion at his sudden change of demeanour as she sat down at the long table and noted that there didn’t appear to be any staff members sitting with the patients to supervise them during the meal. She counted it to twelve patients around the long table, herself included. The staff members were sitting at a table near the kitchen area and didn’t seem to pay too much attention to the patients at all.

“You must be the new girl, I’m Lexi,” the girl seated to her left greeted her with a polite smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Lexi. I’m Norah,” Norah introduced herself.

“Can I give you a piece of advice?” Lexi asked her.

“Sure,” Norah said.

“Don’t argue with the staff like that. You don’t want to get on their bad side. They’re nice to you if you’re nice to them,” Lexi told her.

“And if I’m not nice to them?” Norah wondered.

“Then your stay here will become more difficult and quite possibly longer,” Lexi replied. “Noncompliance to the rules equals more restrictions. If you want more freedom, you have to dance to their pipe.”

“Like the rats in the story of the pied piper,” Norah reflected. “The rats all drowned, you know. Do you think they see us as vermin?” she asked, nodding at the staff’s table.

“You have interesting thoughts,” Lexi told her with a smile. “They’re not tricking us, though. They’re trying to help us adapt to the expectations the real world is going to have on us once we get out of here.”

“That’s what they’re brainwashing you into believing,” Norah replied.

“That sounds paranoid,” the boy to Norah’s right commented with an amused look on his face. “Don’t let the staff hear you say things like that, because they will use it against you,” he advised her.

“So you’re paranoid too then,” Norah concluded with a smile.

“I prefer the term realistic,” the boy replied humorously. “I’m James, by the way.”

“I’m Norah,” she replied. “What does a warning entail?”

“If you get three warnings, you lose a privilege,” James replied.

“So they’re using punishment?” Norah said incredulously. “Such assholes.”

“I know right,” James agreed with an amused look on his face.

“Don’t listen too much to James. He’s been here for five weeks and is still not allowed to leave the facility at all,” Lexi advised Norah. “I’ve been here for four weeks and can leave the facility alone and with friends.”

“He’s not allowed to leave at all?” Norah questioned confusedly. “Not even with his family?”

“Nope, I’m still in the red group,” James replied.

“Why, though?” Norah questioned.

“Because he insists on being rebellious and irresponsible. He’s run away twice already even though it’s futile,” Lexi said.

“I really don’t get why they’re not just throwing me out,” James said with a sigh. “Any other place I’ve been to would have done that by now.”

“So that strategy doesn’t appear to work then,” Norah reflected. “That’s rather discouraging.”

“Were you planning on trying it?” James asked her amusedly.

“I suppose I considered it,” Norah admitted. “They’re not supervising the meal. Will they notice if I don’t eat it all? Are they surveilling us in other ways? Does everyone mind their own business or are there informants among us?”

“I’m pretty sure they have their ways, because they tend to find things out sooner or later. You should be careful with who you trust,” James told her and shot Lexi a dirty look. “Lexi’s been climbing the ladder suspiciously fast, for example. I wouldn’t trust her if I were you.”

“I’m far more reliable than you are. They trust me because I’m doing what they’re asking me to. Don’t take out your own failures on me,” Lexi told him irritably. “Grow up and start taking responsibility, rather than blaming everyone else for your mistakes and failures. It’s not noble or cool to stand up to authorities just for the sake of it, James. It’s stupid.”

“It might not be functional at all times, but surely there’s something commendable in standing up for what you think is right,” Norah reasoned.

“That’s not what he’s doing, though,” Lexi objected. “I would understand that, but what James is doing is just immature and self-destructive.”

“Can’t it be both?” Norah questioned, causing James to grin at her.

“I like this one,” James established and quickly finished up his food before leaving the table with his plate, glass and cutlery to place in the dishwasher. “Thanks for the dinner, whoever cooked it,” he said with a grin and playfully saluted the other patients around the long table. There was something about James that made Norah feel instantly drawn to him; he had charisma and there was something interestingly mischievous about his demeanour.

“Are you required to say thank you for dinner?” Norah asked Lexi who smiled at her.

“Yes, you’re expected to do that because it’s considered polite,” Lexi confirmed. “They like good manners. You should really read up on the rules and routines around here, Norah. It will make it a lot easier for you to adapt to this place. Have you downloaded the app yet?”

“There’s an app?” Norah questioned with a frown.

“Yes. Your login information should be in the admittance letter you received before you got here,” Lexi explained. “We’re not supposed to take out our phones during meals, unless we have a really good reason to, but I can show you how the app works later, if you like,” she offered.

“Okay, thank you, Lexi,” Norah said appreciatively.

“Don’t forget to eat, Norah. You already have two warnings,” Lexi reminded her.

Norah sighed heavily and reluctantly ate from the vegetarian food option that had been placed on a plate for her. Lexi was soon done with her own meal and left the table, thanking two other patients for the dinner before placing her plate, glass and cutlery into the dishwasher. Norah looked around her immediate surroundings to make a risk calculation. The table was nearly empty of patients by now and no one was really paying attention to her, so she placed some food in a couple of napkins and hid it in her pocket. Her plate was nearly empty, so she followed the other patients’ examples and thanked the patients Lexi had thanked for the dinner earlier, before throwing away the leftovers in the compost bag and placing the plate, glass and cutlery into the dishwasher. She discreetly took the napkins with food from her pocket and pushed them down into the ordinary trash bin, and washed her hands in the kitchen sink afterwards.

Realising that she did not really know what to do next, Norah reluctantly walked up to the table where Max and his colleague Jane were at.

“Umm, what do I do now?” Norah asked them tentatively.

“Did you finish your meal?” Max asked her and she nodded. “All of it?”

“Most of it. I just threw away a little bit of rice in the compost because the ratio was off. There was too much rice in relation to the lentil stew,” Norah explained.

“That’s why you should make sure to be on time, so you can balance the ratio the way you like,” Max told her. “You were supposed to finish all the food on your plate, not throw some of it away in the compost.”

“But I saw plenty of others do it,” Norah argued.

“Not everyone has the same history of illness as you do, Norah. You all have individual rules,” Max explained. “But I appreciate your honesty about throwing away the rice, and it gladdens me that you thanked the chefs for the dinner and cleared your place at the table,” he commended her. Norah felt impatient as she stood there and listened to him. She found him insufferable at the moment. “I’m also pleased that you came here to ask about what to do next. Of course, it would be optimal if you actually had read the information you received from your doctor before you got here, but asking for guidance is the next best thing.”

Norah couldn’t resist sighing audibly and let her impatience show as he never seemed to get to the answer to her question on what to do next.

“Okay, but what am I expected to do now?” Norah asked him impatiently.

“Have one hour of quiet time in the big common room. I told you that earlier,” Max reminded her.

“Okay, so do I time it myself then?” Norah asked him and he nodded. She gave him an odd look and began walking towards the big common room while checking the time on her phone. ‘19.07’ She then sighed and turned back towards Max, realising that she still felt pretty much clueless as to what to do. “What exactly does quiet time here entail?” she asked frustratedly, causing him to smile at her and get up from his seat.

“Why don’t you go sit in the big common room and I’ll be there in a moment with all the information you need,” he suggested and she nodded in agreement.

Norah walked to the big common room that she had been shown during the tour Max had so enthusiastically given her, Sarah and Tom a few hours earlier. Max had been talking so much during the guided tour of the place that she had eventually just decided to block out most of his words by discreetly placing a headphone in one of her ears to listen to music in order to make the whole ordeal less insufferable.

There were surprisingly many of the patients in the big common room, Norah noted. After quickly counting them, she concluded that two thirds of the patients she had seen at dinner were in there. The big common room was a large open area with different sections. There were two different TV sections in opposite corners of the large room, allowing two different groupings to watch different things together without disturbing each other. There were a couple of desks with computers placed against a wall, various reading corners with lamps and tables with chairs that opened up for various activities. There were shelves with books, board games, puzzles and various art supplies.

“Couldn’t you decide where to sit?” Max asked her with a friendly smile as he walked up to her with a file folder and other various supplies in his arms. “Let’s sit over here, then,” he decided and walked up to an empty table.

Norah followed him and watched as he placed the pile of things on the table’s surface. Max smiled as he saw the sceptical look on her face and pulled out a chair for her so they would be seated next to each other.

“Will this be another infodump of yours?” Norah asked sullenly as she reluctantly sat down next to him.

“I’ve noticed that you’re not too keen on me talking too much, so I’ll try to restrain myself and keep it as brief as I can,” Max assured her. “You wanted to know more about quiet time, right?” he asked and turned the pages in the file folder. Norah frowned upon noticing that some of the pages were laminated.

“Yep. Keep it short and simple, please, because I’m dumb as a bag of rocks,” Norah requested.

“Do you really expect me to believe that after your rant about sheep mentality and independent thinking? You made it quite obvious that you’re a thinker, Norah,” Max told her. “You’re not dumb, you’re rather impatient and have a limited attention span. That’s something completely different.”

“Nah, I’m just dumb,” Norah insisted and looked down at the page he had turned to and sighed frustratedly at their circumstantial wording and consistent use of the word attendant instead of patient. She already hated the place and seriously doubted that it would get any better with time.

A week passed by and Norah had been devastated at the fact that in accordance with their routines, patients weren’t allowed to leave the facility at all during their first week at Willow’s Creek. She felt tricked, even though the only reason she hadn’t known about how things really worked at the treatment facility when she had been coaxed into getting into the car that day, was that she had straight out refused to listen to or read any more information about it after the decision about her going there had been made over her head. It had all been made available to her, but she had been in complete denial about the fact that she was going whether she liked it or not until the very end.

Norah had lost both her phone and internet privileges within the first twenty four hours of getting there, so she couldn’t even vent about her misfortune to anyone on the outside. Instead, James had become her primary conversation partner since he appeared to be the one who she could relate to the most of the other patients. Max and her other contact persons in the facility had hinted to her that Lexi or some other of the more treatment compliant patients would make a more appropriate company for her.

Norah found herself sitting in an office for an evaluation meeting of her first week at Willow’s Creek with Sarah, Tom, her contact person Dave, the facility’s psychiatrist, psychologist and a social worker. Norah kept spacing out, not really paying attention to what was being said during the meeting, but stared out the second floor window at the treetops of the woods situated near the building they were currently in. There had been several ‘mindfulness walks’ in those woods during the past week which she had appreciated more than she liked to admit. While being deprived of other privileges, Norah had at least been allowed to participate in some outdoor and group activities despite not adhering to the regulations as much as the people there wanted her to.

“Norah,” Dave said and gently touched her shoulder, attracting her attention. Everything about him was gentle and he was so mild mannered that she couldn’t help but like him.

“What?” Norah asked dazedly and looked at him.

“They were asking you about the roof incident that occurred a couple of nights ago,” Dave informed her. “Could you explain to them what happened?”

“Oh, that was just James and I stargazing,” Norah told the others with a shrug. “The sky is so much clearer here at night than it is in London. We looked for and listed different star signs we were able to identify because we had read about them in a book. It was purely for educational purposes, and not at all unnecessary risk taking behaviour, as you put it,” she added and glared at the psychiatrist. “You can’t really stargaze in daylight, now can you? So it had to be in the middle of the night. You’re making a big deal out of nothing, really.”

“You can stargaze from the ground,” the psychiatrist informed her brittly.

“Well, what’s the fun in that?” Norah questioned irritably. “It wasn’t like we were on top of a high rise or anything. We weren’t really taking that big of a risk climbing out a window and onto the roof on a building that only has three floors. It’s not that high a fall if anyone was to tumble down, and it was grass on the side we were at, so there wouldn’t really be that hard of a surface to land on anyway,” she argued.

“It’s January, Norah. The ground is still pretty hard from the cold, even if it’s covered by grass,” Tom pointed out, supporting the psychiatrist’s view. “It’s also pretty high a fall if you would tumble down from that roof, so you could actually hurt yourself quite severely if you’re unlucky. Possibly even die.”

“But we didn’t fall!” Norah reminded them irritably. “We were actually really careful, believe it or not.”

“Norah, can you please promise me not to do it again?” Sarah requested and gave her a pleading look.

“You don’t trust me anyway, so what difference does it make if I promise you anything or not?” Norah questioned.

“If you really want to regain my trust, you should do it by making promises and keeping them,” Sarah told her.

“But I don’t want to make that promise, because I’m not sure I can keep it. I really enjoyed being on that roof and looking at the stars,” Norah told her honestly. “We used to do that as kids with Dad, remember? Get up on the roof in the middle of the night to look at Orion’s belt and all those other star signs. This experience reminded me of how many good times we had with Dad. Even if a lot of the things he did weren’t conventional, I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. I miss him, you know. I miss him so much and James kind of reminds me of him sometimes. He makes me feel closer to him.”

Sarah’s eyes filled with tears at her little sister’s words as the memories of various night time adventures with their father came rushing back to her. Their childhood had been rather odd in some ways and at the same time so ordinary in others. Their parents had complemented each other in a way that made it all work out somehow, providing them with both stability and excitement.

“Is it possible for me to meet this James?” Sarah asked and looked questioningly at the psychiatrist who seemed a bit taken aback.

“Why do you want to see him?” the psychiatrist wondered.

“I want to talk to him and make sure that he understands how important it is that he doesn’t put Norah at risk again,” Sarah explained. “I don’t want to discourage their friendship altogether if it means so much to her, but I want James to understand that he needs to be more careful for both of their sakes. If Norah cares for him, then so do I. Does he have a lot of people who care for him and let him know about it?” she wondered.

The psychiatrist looked thoughtful for a moment and shared a look with the psychologist.

“Mira, what do you think about Sarah’s suggestion?” the psychiatrist asked the psychologist.

“I think it sounds like a good idea,” Mira said honestly. “Provided that James and his legal guardian agree to the meeting, I think it could be very beneficial for him to hear those things Sarah just mentioned. It might inspire him to take better care of himself.”

“I agree with you,” the psychiatrist said after a moment’s consideration. “Do you think you could try to contact his legal guardian now and see if he agrees to the meeting?”

“Of course,” Mira said with a warm smile and left the office to tend to the task right away.

Norah was a bit taken aback by the sudden turn of events and shift of atmosphere in the room. She felt really grateful towards both Sarah and Mira at that moment, and even towards the psychiatrist, who surprisingly enough had appeared to be reasonable and compassionate for once.

“Did that just really happen?” Norah asked Dave quietly and he smiled amusedly at her as he nodded to confirm that it had.

“Norah, can I have your attention for a moment?” the psychiatrist asked in her usual assertive manner. Norah forced herself to look at the woman who always looked so stern and uptight with her neat clothes and grey hair up in a bun so tight that it was almost painful to look at.

“Doesn’t it hurt keeping your hair in such a tight bun?” Norah asked spontaneously, not intending to be rude, but out of pure curiosity. “Is that why you’re often so bitter? Because you’re in constant pain from head to toe with that bun and those high heels you’re wearing?”

“Please, excuse her,” Sarah interjected and smiled apologetically at the psychiatrist. “Norah hasn’t been socially interacting with that many people for the last few years, so she sometimes just speaks her mind and doesn’t really consider how what she says might be perceived. She often doesn’t mean anything by it… Actually, she’s always been like that,” the older sister realised. “There would often be misunderstandings at school when she was younger related to social difficulties, but our mother didn’t want to go through with letting her have a neuropsychological assessment.”

“Is that so?” the psychiatrist asked with interest and scrutinised Norah with her small grey eyes. “Now that you say so, it doesn’t seem all that unlikely that there may be some underlying neuropsychiatric condition that could explain some of her divergent behavioural patterns and unevenness in cognitive and social functioning.”

“And now they’re talking over my head again,” Norah mumbled and walked up to the window, opening it to let in some cold fresh air. “I just needed some fresh oxygen. This is a rather small and not all too well ventilated room for so many people,” she explained when she had turned around to find the others staring at her like she had done something inappropriate.

Dave smiled at her as he walked up to her and waited for a moment to let some more air into the room before shutting the window again.

“You know, people usually forewarn the others in a room before opening up a window in the middle of winter. It gets pretty cold,” Dave informed her amusedly as they both walked back to their seats.

“I suppose that would be the customary thing to do,” Norah agreed and smiled when she noticed that Tom was looking at her with a hint of amusement. She liked it when she managed to awaken positive feelings within him. She really wanted to make him feel happy. “When can I go back home again?” Norah wondered as she laid down in the armchair, swinging her legs over one armrest and resting her head against the other.

“It’s still too early to set a date,” the psychiatrist told her. “The average commitment period for attendants here is somewhere between three and a half to five months. We want to achieve long term results with sustainable changes. We are very keen on seeing our attendants succeed once they’re discharged. The transition period sometimes takes a couple of weeks, which is one of the reasons that the average treatment period here is so long.”

“That’s too long,” Norah said despondently and looked at the psychiatrist. “Do you think my time here might end up being shorter than it is for the average patient? Or attendant, as you like to call it,” she corrected herself.

“No, I don’t think so,” the psychiatrist told her honestly. “I know it’s not the answer you wanted to hear, but I want to be honest with you. You really shouldn’t rush processes such as these if you can avoid it. It’s good that you’re eager to go back home, Norah, but we really shouldn’t rush this. Especially considering your long history of mental illness and everything that has happened in your life. You need time and therapy to process it.”

“I can live at home and do outpatient treatment, like it’s usually done. I really don’t need to be here,” Norah argued. “It’s a nice location and all, but I don’t think this place is right for me. I’m more trouble than it’s worth.”

“You sound an awful lot like a certain young man whose name I won’t mention,” the psychiatrist stated as she looked thoughtfully at Norah. “Like with him, I think this is precisely the right place for you to be right now. I truly believe that we can help you here. You just need to let your guard down and start to accept the help and guidance we have to offer. This can turn out to be a life changing and positive experience for you if you just let it.”

“But why do you think independence starts with blind compliance?” Norah questioned with a frown. “It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“If you start to act responsibly and make a habit out of it, you will have an easier time adapting to society’s demands rather than getting overwhelmed by them once discharged. In order to become truly independent, you also have to be responsible,” the psychiatrist reasoned. “Complying to treatment and adhering to rules is in itself a responsible behaviour.”

“Not if the treatment is faulty and the rules are senseless,” Norah objected spontaneously.

“Norah! That isn’t a nice thing to say to someone who’s trying to help you,” Tom chided her.

“What?” Norah questioned with a frown as she sat up straight in the armchair. “I just meant that if the treatment were to be faulty and the rules senseless, it wouldn’t really be responsible or wise of an individual to dance after the piper’s tune just to either drown in a river or to never be seen again. Now would it?”

“Norah, why are you likening this situation to an old folklore?” Tom questioned and sighed.

“Am I?” Norah asked confusedly. “I was speaking hypothetically, Tom. I thought that was pretty obvious. It would be ridiculous to take offence by a hypothetical scenario. I’m not saying that the psychiatrist is like the pied piper.”

“Surely you must understand that it can be interpreted that way when you say it like that?” Tom asked insistently.

“Then the person would be reading too much into what I’m saying,” Norah told him. “It’s just a bunch of humbug. Like everything else I have to say, it ultimately doesn’t matter. That would be truly nonsensical; if someone was to listen to me when I speak of the pied piper, but not when I expressly say that I neither want nor need to be here,” she reasoned.

TAGLIST: @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @sassafras04 @nanarento @sidneydisneyq @siyoteodiara @banddorkmarie @highjackluv @midnight-polaroids @mediocretranquility @musicartmayheminmyheart @rip-taylors-reputation @littlegeneralamy @tiffanylcullen @twhiddlestonstuff

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist for this story.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x original character #tom hiddleston fanfic #He Loves Me Not

11 notes · View notes

durarara-brain-rot · 5 months ago

Note

i saw your analysis video about shizuo (great video btw!) and now i'm curious... what ARE your opinions on each shizuo ship? because to be honest i don't care for any shizuo ship either LOLOLOL

Oh my gosh I’m so glad you liked the video! And I can talk about it for way too long but I will try to summarize my feelings about each ship that I’ve seen around! Also this is not me saying anyone shouldn’t ship these characters this is just my opinion on why I think they don’t work and why I think Shizuo needs a therapist and then a lover interest that is removed from all of the chaos of the plots!

Tom and Shizuo; while they make good friends I can’t see them as a romantic couple because there is that power dynamic of Tom being his boss and the fact that Shizuo can’t keep any other job. This will quite literally be a power dynamic they could never get over as long as they are both working.

Izaya and Shizuo; they try to kill each other on a daily basis and in my opinion they both give each other so much anxiety it could never be a productive relationship. Both Izaya and Shizuo are mentally ill men who have a lot of internalized issues that lead to them lashing out. Izaya views Shizuo as a monster because he can’t predict what Shizuo will do and can’t understand his motivation. Izaya even says in the sunset of Izaya orihara that he “neglected to take in account the human side of Shizuo” he viewed him as lesser and any relationship born out of that dynamic inherently is toxic and will lead to abuse. I also feel that this ship breeds a lot of peoples internalized misogyny by perpetuating the idea that men can’t feel anything but anger and sex.

Celty and Shizuo; my sister ships this one and there isn’t much wrong with it compared to some of the canon relationships and ships I’ve seen in this fandom but in my opinion they work better as friends. Shizuo has very little close friends and even less friends that he doesn’t have to worry as much about hurting. Simon and Shizuo can go toe to toe but they aren’t really close from what we’ve seen, more friendly acquaintances. Celty is on an equal playing field and can more easily communicate with him since he quite literally has to calm down enough to focus on what she is writing. (I also headcanon that Shizuo has dyslexia considering he has trouble reading all of the things on the dollar message board and gets pissed off by how many words and how fast the posts were going. I may be projecting with this though) I feel that a romance between Celty and Shizuo would further separate him from others due to the fact that people would more likely associate him to the supernatural even more than they already do.

Shinra and Shizuo; Shinra doesn’t see Shizuo someone interesting, even the friendship stemmed from Shinra finding Shizuo’s powers intriguing on a scientific standpoint. Shinra should also get therapy cause boy oh boy that man needs it before getting into a relationship. Shinra as we’ve seen with Celty is a bit of a push over and is secretive because he is overly possessive. I think he has a major fear of abandonment too. Shizuo needs someone who will call him out and calm him down. He also seems to like solitude and Shinra would drive him up a wall.

Vorona and Shizuo; she literally tries to kill him and only got close to him to learn how to kill him. Yes she grows fond of him and he grows fond of her but they end up having a mentor/student dynamic creating an unhealthy dynamic if they were to get together. Plus the age gap is a bit much especially considering vorona is mentally stunted from her upbringing. Vorona is barely 20 and Shizuo is pushing 26-27 depending on what source you look at for the final season. While 6-7 years older for someone over the age of 25 isn’t that bad when it comes to someone like vorona who is barely 20 and who has had no healthy relationship with anyone let alone herself it can create an extremely unhealthy dynamic. Vorona needs time to explore her life and emotions that she just hasn’t had the years todo. Shizuo by the end of the first season (not talking about the manga because I’m not caught up) he is fully developed and actualized as a person. He has over come a lot of different internal battles and struggles and got more control over his strength. Vorona is not at that level of maturity nor is she someone that should be. She needs the time to develop and a relationship with anyone would stunt her growth in my opinion.

If you guys ship any of these characters obviously this is no hate to you guys but these are my thoughts and opinions as someone’s who’s spent way to much time breaking down the show and each of the characters. I’ve been obsessed with this show for going on ten years and could talk about my feelings and observations about it for ages.

I ship Shizuo with therapy!

Please no one kill me for my opinions!

#durarara #drrr #durarara!!#shizuo heiwajima #drrr!!#shizuo #anime #durarara!!x2 #heiwajima shizuo #izaya orihara #tanaka tom #celty sturluson #vorona

19 notes · View notes

lapsthings · 8 months ago

Text

BLLK MATCHUP EXCHANGE WITH @xxchthonicreaturexx

Your best match is...

🐆CHIGIRI HYOMA 💗

I wanted to pair you with one of the Wanimas as a false pairing prank, but I haven’t come up with a solid idea to better conceal it—so you’re safe this time. Lucky you!

Back to the main point: I kinda struggled to choose from a few characters, but ultimately, I think Chigiri is your most compatible match

First things first, you’re literally his type—someone who’s calm and understanding (which is great because he can be pretty intense)

You both have attitude: he’s got sass, and you have smartass remarks, so playful banter between you two would definitely be a regular thing

Once you’re close enough, he can be very playful. He, too, finds yelling matches entertaining and funny, so expect those to be a common part of your relationship—mostly when it’s just the two of you in private

These yelling matches could start over something as small as who left the lights on, whose turn it is to pick the next show to binge, who’s hogging all the blankets, whether pineapple belongs on pizza…(spoiler alert: they do)

He’ll try to persuade you away from trespassing or climbing onto trains since he's worried about you and doesn't want you to get into too much trouble...but whether or not he succeeds, he’ll always remind you to be careful (He's secretly impressed tho lol)

But he’s more than happy to tag along on your less…extreme adventures

Road trips with him? Expect a lot of impromptu karaoke sessions, girl gossip and spontaneous snack stops at quirky little cafes

Now onto his hair, he completely trusts you with his. Do whatever you want, just don’t tug too hard, he might actually kill you

Spiders don’t scare him, but they do gross him out, so he’s eternally thankful when you handle them for him

You're his knight in shining armor

He absolutely loves your style, especially the way your color palette blends cute and cool elements. You two would have matching outfits, it is inevitable.

or at least matching accessories

Onto the topic, since he’s a cat person and you like rodents, you'd probably have some Tom & Jerry-themed accessories stashed somewhere

He’ll try to guess what color you’ll dye your hair next, sometimes throwing out suggestions on colours he thinks will look good on you

When you first show him your doll collection, he’s a bit startled—not in a bad way, just impressed by the level of detail. He thinks they’re cute and might even consider getting some for himself…

Chigiri fully encourages your idea of getting a cherry blossom tattoo, but he understands your fear of needles so he’ll try help you overcome it, one step at a time :)

He doesn’t mind your routine; he’s got one of his own, so he totally gets it

As for your eating habits, he doesn’t mind those either. He’ll even gladly peel bananas for you—and, funny enough, he’ll discover he has a weird talent for peeling them perfectly in one swift motion

You get along with his sister btw, she teases him, so maybe you'd both gang up on him

Quality time together is a must. It could be as simple as scrolling through social media (he’ll show you cute cat videos), painting each other’s nails, doing each other’s hair, or going on cute little dates

Night routines with him are so fun I cannot emphasize this enough

Doing skincare, applying face masks, maybe even a little contest to see who can finish their night routine first

Unfortunately, he always wins. After all he never loses in a contest of speed

He's not really the type to let you win just because he feels bad, so you'll have to cheat lol

Hide his products somewhere, make sure he doesn't get his hands on yours and your hard earned victory will be secured

Chigiri is familiar with DC; he’s well-read and not THAT uncultured. But feel free to fill him in on whatever he’s missing

Your conversations will shift from his stories from Blue Lock to something DC related

Whenever you’re dissociating, Chigiri will pull you back to reality and reassure you. Don’t worry, he’s always there for you

Staying up late isn’t great for the skin, but he hasn’t been following his bedtime schedule as strictly since he started hanging out with you more

He sleeps for at least 8 hours a day, but there’s no rule stating which part of the day he’s having his beauty sleep right?

Once you’re with him, your skin will always be smooth, and your hair will be healthy. He’s sharing all of his hair tips and tricks with you, even his products

He must really love you, huh?

All that said, just remember you’re someone who’s extremely important to him, he loves you lots and will pamper you. You’re in good hands

Power couple btw

(In case if you’re wondering, your runner-up was Kunigami/Otoya)

#blue lock #bllk #blueglock #blue lock x reader #spoilerspoilersurprisesurprise #bllk x reader #drop the hair routine girl #chigiri x reader #chigiri hyoma #bllk chigiri #chigiri #chigiri hyoma x reader

13 notes · View notes

blues-sues · 1 year ago

Text

Did a Clangen thing! Meet Wildcatclan! And yes, I chose them bc of their name. Also ignore how I switched to pronouns halfway through instead of Tom/she-cat

Wildcatclan is described as The Efficient and Pleasant, so many of them are very kind souls! Though some, like Shadowstar, lean more into the "efficient" role and think that pleasantries should be saved for after everything is done and over with.

Brief descriptions:

Shadowstar- Mates with Beestorm, father of Applepaw and Copperpaw. Strict, but is lenient with his children. Probably why Applepaw is so energetic and carefree.

Juniperwhisker- Mates with Rookstone. Step-mom of Greypaw. Juniperwhisker is the deputy, and is kind to many, but she doesn't talk much. She's mostly concerned with making sure everything is in working order, and does it herself if need be.

Cootface- A lynx. Aroace. Was originally meant to be the "muscle" of the clan until she decided she'd prefer not to fight, and instead help her clan in a different way. Nobody objected, because the medicine cat was getting older and older anyway.

Starlingfang- Sarcastic. He, Sootstream and Blackstorm are the youngest warriors, all having been trained around the same time. Younger brother of Shadowstar.

Sootstream & Blackstorm- Always seem to know what you, and your eachother, are thinking. Sootstream is more talkative and Blackstorm listens to it all.

Cormorantstorm- Rookstone's younger sister. She's quiet, and often jumpy around others. Nobody quite knows why, but she always seems to be frantically listening and looking.

Skipperpaw- A former kittypet whom was dumped on the outside of the territory as a kitten. Upon being found, she was taken in immediately and raised alongside Copperpaw and Applepaw.

Goldenpaw- Another kitten dumped at the edge of the territory. He and Skipperpaw are friends and relate to each other over this aspect. It's suspected he was abandoned because the family couldn't afford to keep him. He was around 3 moons at the time and wasn't raised by any particular cat.

Greypaw- A salty young cat who always speaks her mind. Always. It's concerning how many times she's gotten in trouble for speaking without a filter. It's not that she means to be rude, but she thinks if something's obvious, she'll point it out. "Beestorm, are you sure you're not expecting?"... She was the first to guess and got reprimanded by Starlingfang for asking a rude question- that is, until Beestorm interrupted and confirmed it.

Copperpaw- She's always working. Running around and doing things. If Juniperwhisker needs help, she's there. It's truly a good thing that's her mentor. Juniperwhisker always appreciates the help and is considered an aunt figure to her.

Chanterellepaw- One day, he and Campionfoot arrived, and never left. After a recent flooding in the area, many cats were left stranded and alone. Shadowstar was eager to accept any newcomers he could. Nobody really knows where he found a kit and an elder, but they'll take it!

Applepaw- If you ever hear loud mewing from the woods or exciting chirping, it's most likely Applepaw. She is the most excitable of the clan and is constantly bouncing around. Shadowstar doesn't even try to give her stuff to do anymore. He knows she'll finish it quickly and go right back to racing around so what's the point?

Rookstone- After her mate, a rogue, had left her during her first litter's pregnancy, Rookstone was devastated and spent many nights simply lying in her nest with her tail wrapped tightly around her. Many warriors noticed, but it was Juniperwhisker who popped up and began talking to her. It was the most any cat had ever heard her speak, and whatever it was worked, because by nightfall, Rookstone was giggling like a young apprentice again and Juniperwhisker was puffed up proudly. Over the next few moons, Juniperwhisker was always there to help her when she was feeling down and the two grew closer, soon learning they had lots in common. Once Greykit came around, Rookstone was sure of it as she watched Juniperwhisker play with her kit. She was head over paws in love.

Beestorm- a complicated cat. She's not the kindest, but nor is she cruel. She likes to go with the flow, see where the tides take her- and, well, they took her to Shadowstar. Nobody really knows if the two actually are in love after all these moons, but neither have backed out yet, so it's safe to say they're sticking together.

Campionfoot- A washed up Tom found by Shadowstar and invited to join Wildcatclan along with his grandson, Chanterelle. He took the chance quickly. He wasn't willing to risk wandering for a moon or so just to find a stable home when there was one right in front of him! And while he's old, he still helps out around camp and is often a medicine assistant for Cootface.

Asterwhisker- Asterwhisker is the father of Rookstone and beloved by many. Always cracking jokes and pulling pranks- some aren't sure he's as old as he says he is, because he doesn't seem to have graying fur or becoming thinner. The Tom simply seems young as can be- and he always says his trick is a full night's sleep.

Squirrelcloud- always getting headaches and constantly being irritated by anything around him, many consider Squirrelcloud to be the most sour and he's often the one the warriors use to threaten the younger cats. "You don't wanna have to go and check Squirrelcloud for ticks, now do you?" And while he knows he's got a sharp tongue, he truly does want company. It's just hard to ask someone to simply sit with you and not talk.

Fennelheart- The oldest cat in the clan. Despite being blind and slowly going deaf, Fennelheart is always the first to volunteer for hunting patrols and never seems to falter in her step. It's an ongoing belief that the day she starts her retirement is the day the clan starves. Fennelheart always giggles as she hears this theory and finds it hilarious.

#warrior cats clangen #clangen challenge #clangen #warrior cats #warriors ocs

55 notes · View notes

fireflowersandblood · 2 years ago

Text

Letters From Home - Chapter One

Pairing: Tom Bennet x f!reader

WC: ~2600 words

TWs/Warnings: Strong language, adult themes

Summary: The first letter from Tom Bennet arrives, and you desperately try to compose a reply.

masterlist │ preview │ chapter one

The days pass just like they did before the war, and you spend most of them like most women do these days: you wake up, you knit on the bus, you work, you knit on the bus home, you have supper, you knit, and you go to bed. Sunday mornings are for knitting in church, and Tuesday evenings are for knitting at the library, but little else changes.

It’s on one of those Tuesday evenings that you find the letter. When you’ve unlocked the door and stepped inside, you find the usual pile of letters by the door and lean down to pick them up. There’s one from your mother, two bills, and… one you don’t recognize. The written words are messy and you hurry inside, throwing your handbag and the rest of the post on the table.

Surely, there is only one reason a stranger and your mother would write at the same time. You don’t bother looking for your letter opener, only rip one side of the envelope open and tug out the paper within. You can hardly breathe, when you flip the sheer paper over and read it.

Good day, ma’am

I hope this letter finds you well. You did say I could write, so here I am. My name’s Tom, and if the date on your letter is correct, I’m twenty three this month. Been fighting since ´39 and your package was the first I ever received. Got a letter from my sister once, but she only told me to bugger off already. That was in training.

Your tense shoulders drop somewhat. If it’s not about your brother being killed or hurt… At first, you’re certain the letter must’ve been sent wrong, but when you have another look, the envelope says both your name and your address. Then, when you continue to read, it finally clicks.

The pullover fits perfectly and the socks have come to good use. Both pairs. Haven’t used the hat much yet, but it muffles the sound of my bunkmates snoring. Think you’ve earned your George Cross.

Swear the lollies you sent are from the same store my mother frequented when I was a child. Been hard to keep them to myself, though. Men are greedy bastards, aren’t they?

I can’t tell you much about what we do or where we are. Captain’s orders. I can, however, ask you how you are. We get news from home ever so often, and we heard about the recent bombings. I hope you’re alright. I’d miss your knitting if you’re not.

I swear I’m not only writing to thank you for the socks, I also write because I fully expect another pair.

Cheers,

Tom

P.S. I’m joking about the socks. I do want to thank you, but I don’t actually expect another pair. Had to add this bit, my superior thought I was being too harsh on you.

You stare at the page. The handwriting is messy and there’s holes where the pen has pierced it, but it’s here and that’s somehow enough. A warm feeling settles inside your chest, and for a moment you think of nothing but this Tom that is half a world away, fighting a war, and has still found time to write to you.

You find that you have a million questions. You want to ask if the socks fit, and if the George Cross really is what you think it is, and if he likes the perfume, and if he likes the candy. You want to ask him if his rations involve any decent chocolate or cigarettes, because all the good ones are impossible to get a hold of here, at home.

Even though there’s a million things you should be doing, you leave the rest of the post and your handbag on the kitchen table to look for some nice paper. For a moment, you consider using a sheer, pink one you found in a bookstore before the war, but think better of it. Surely, the thin paper will only be damaged and perhaps even unreadable. You settle for the same thick, white paper you used last time. Armed with paper and your favorite pen, you sit down to write.

The morning comes too quickly. Your body aches after a hard day’s work and no sleep, yet the paper in front of you lies empty. You have tried all night, and you’ve even balled up two letters and thrown them on the floor. In the back of your head, you hear your mother lecture you for it, but you justify it by telling yourself they’re toys for the stray cat that you feed.

Everything needs to be rationed. Stop trying to make it work. Just write.

It’s easier said than done. You have no idea what to tell the bloke or how to cheer him up. According to his letter, you’re both fairly close in age, which means it should be easier, but it’s not. All you can think of is the way your father’s face changes when there’s a loud sound or on especially cold and dark evenings.

Some part of you doesn't want to write back. If you do, there’s just another person for you to worry about. You had been certain there would be no response, and now that it’s here, you wish you had never asked for one. Tom Bennett is a person to care for, one that you cannot fit into your already busy schedule.

At the same time, you don’t have the heart not to. You would hate to leave him waiting, wanting, needing a distraction from home that'll never come. If only you had realized how much of a responsibility it would feel like when you sent that first letter…

Before you can continue, you hear the distant alarm clock from your bedroom. You rise on legs that throb with a dull pain and decide to leave the letter for tonight. It’ll occupy your mind for the rest of the day, no matter what, and you have to get ready for work.

Once you’re dressed and ready to leave, you have one last look at the empty paper and suddenly remember the letter from your mother. You grab it, together with your usual knitting, and head for the bus.

Doris, one of your friends from school, waits for you at the bus station. She smiles when she sees you, waves with one hand and tugs you into an embrace the second you come close enough. A small chuckle leaves you, and you hug her back.

“You look terrible”, Doris says, and as soon as she pulls back, she sticks her thumb in her mouth, sucks for a moment, then leans in to furiously scrub at the day-old makeup on your face. Desperately, you try to duck away from her, but she’s quicker. Before she can even think to pull at your hair, the bus has stopped next to you.

Both of you hop on, pay for your tickets and sit in the far back. She looks through her handbag, mutters something about how she can never find anything, and pulls out her makeup bag. She clicks her makeup mirror open and hands it to you.

“I couldn’t sleep”, you confess. “I…”

Doris interrupts.

“Is it your brother?”

You have to bite back a laugh.

“No”, you reply. “Are you still sweet on him?”

Doris has the decency to look puzzled at the question, and immediately turns away. She doesn’t have to reply for you to know the answer, but you don’t press further. You find it rather sweet, in truth, but you don’t say that, either. You and Doris have known each other since you were both in nappies, and Doris has had a thing for your brother since the two of you were old enough to know what that meant.

By the time you’ve touched up your makeup and saved your hair from complete disaster, Doris has picked up her own knitting. Her handbag stands between the two of you and you easily slide the makeup bag and mirror back.

The ward is near empty, and for once you can work in relative peace. The radio is on, but you can’t make out any of the mumblings from the other side of the room. It’s better that way, you reckon, because you don’t have to hear the most recent news from whatever battlefield the reporters have had a misfortune to hear from today. You think it cruel, to leave the radio on when the wounded men in the beds have just barely escaped that hell with their lives, but have gotten one too many slaps on the wrist by the doctor to say anything.

Doris and two of the other nurses have taken most of the men to the courtyard. You’d like to imagine that the doctor has joined them, to keep an eye on the progress of the wounded soldiers learning to walk or talk anew, but you’re almost certain he has locked himself in the office to read or listen to his own radio. That, too, makes your blood boil, but you can’t do without a job.

Sure, there’s always the factories… but you’re almost entirely certain the men will want their jobs back when they return and have recovered, and you’ll need a job just as bad when the war is over as you do now.

By the time you have changed half the beds in the ward, one of the two soldiers that has been left inside calls for you.

“Nurse”, he calls, not unkindly, and even lets you finish the bed you’re working on. You only leave him waiting for a few minutes before you come closer.

It’s a horrid sight. The man can’t be much older than you are, but he looks older. The dark bags under his eyes, the sharp lines and cuts of his face, the worn look he always wears, his glassy eyes… You’re suddenly thankful for the thick gauze that is wrapped around both of his hands, which had been little but mangled pieces of flesh when he was first brought to the hospital.

“Albert”, you greet, with what you hope is soft confidence. “I thought Doris took you outside.”

He laughs, and you’re thankful for it. It’s a rare sound here, and it does perk you up somewhat.

“I don’t think Doris likes me much”, he says, but even this is kind. His smile is tight, but you can’t tell if it’s because of the pain he must be in or because he knows that even Doris thinks he looks scary. “I hope you don’t feel the same. Would you sit with me for a moment?”

“I could never dislike you, Albert”, you promise, and carefully sit on the edge of his bed. He scoots over as much as he can and one arm extends to the nightstand. Someone has left him paper and a pen, and you immediately reach for it.

“For my mother”, he explains, and you’re sure he’s about to explain that he can’t write, even though you already know that much. You had, after all, seen both what was left of his hands and the mess of his body when he was brought in.

So much for trying to escape the war for a week, you think, and shudder at the thought of how home isn’t even safe anymore.

“Let’s write”, you interrupt him, as kindly as possible, and settle the paper against the nightstand to be able to write. “For your mother?”

Albert nods.

“Yes. Tell her that I was hurt in London, during my leave. She will know what it means, I am sure. Granny is well, I was in a pub when it happened.”

He trails off and lets you write, and the silence is only interrupted by the awful blaring of the radio. You wonder what kind of cheap crap it must be, then feel awful for even thinking such a thing. Perhaps, just this once, it is not a fault of the doctor, but of the war.

“Despite it all, I am well. The doctor is a bit of a bellend, but the nurses are lovely, and the prosthetics have improved greatly since father lost his leg in the first war.”

You have to bite your bottom lip not to laugh, but you think Albert notices the smile on your lips regardless. His voice doesn’t sound quite as grave when he continues.

“With any luck, I’ll be back home soon. I don’t think I’ll be much help to the war effort with only two fingers, but someone has to be the Tin Man for spring break. I don’t see why that couldn’t be me.”

This time a small laugh escapes before you can even try to suppress it. Albert seems almost as pleased by that as you were with his laugh earlier.

“One of the nicer nurses is writing for me”, he says, and you quickly scribble it down. “It’s the reason it doesn’t look right. I hope you’re well, mom. I miss you, and I miss Leslie. I’ve attached two pounds, I hope it’s enough to treat her to some chocolate. Most love, your Betty.”

You sign the letter in silence. Another moment of silence follows, and you wonder if you should write something else. Perhaps you could add a small paragraph, with the medical details, and the progress he has already made. You realize how ridiculous it is when Albert grabs for the envelope and somehow manages to get a hold of it, despite the thick gauze.

He tells you the address and you write it as neatly as you can.

“Would you perhaps post it for me?” he asks, and for the first time today you hear some sort of doubt in his voice. He hesitates, and continues in a much quieter voice. “I don’t trust the receptionist not to take the money in the envelope.”

The shock must be evident on your face, because he immediately leans closer to the nightstand to open the drawer. He struggles, grimaces, then manages to open it enough for you to see the wallet within.

“I’ll pay you for it.”

You quickly shake your head.

“You don’t have to pay me”, you hurry to say, but you reach out for the wallet and take it. It feels wrong to open it, but you do and pull out the two pounds he had told his mother of, before you fold it over once and tuck it away in the envelope. Then, you close it. “I’ll do it. I have a letter of my own to post, anyway.”

Your little break from changing the sheets have reminded you of both the letter from your mother, and the letter from the Tom that had gotten your knitted garments. You leave the envelope on the nightstand for now.

“I’ll be back for it before the day is over”, you promise, and very gently squeeze one of Albert’s upper arms. “Now, I, unfortunately, have to keep working.”

Albert laughs again, when you stand and help him to settle in the middle of the bed again. Before you leave, you help him drink some water from the glass that stands by the envelope. Just as you turn around, you’re reminded of something.

“Actually, Albert”, you say, and turn back around to have a look at him. “What did you want to hear from home? When you were fighting?”

Albert’s lips tug up in a rare grin that reaches his eyes, and he pats the edge of the bed where you had just been sitting.

#letters from home #tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #world on fire #world on fire bbc #wof bbc

61 notes · View notes