#good luck with ch 21!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mistyorchid · 8 months ago

Text

Meet-Cute

Old Man!Logan x fem! reader

summary: Failed talking stages inspire you to meet someone irl. Riding an older man in the backseat of his limo makes you forget about the immature boys who ghosted you on Hinge. Ch. 2 Ch. 3 warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, smut, age gap, reader is 21+, fingering, riding, size difference, praise kink, pet names (doll, baby, sweet/good girl, sweetheart), unprotected p in v, light slapping, oral (male!receiving), creampie, car sex (nobody's around tho), logan's slutty glasses. wc: 3k

Hinge. The app designed to be deleted. You smiled as you pushed the cart, daydreaming about chucking your phone into the nearest lake. The few matches that you received often ghosted you after a week, afraid of committing to a real date.

So here you were, aimlessly strolling through a grocery store. Desperately begging the universe for a real man.

You spent an embarrassingly long time curating the perfect outfit to attract a guy worth your time. Casual enough for a quick errand, but still chic. I want to be with someone who admires my confidence. They shouldn't reprimand me for expressing myself.

That's how the feminist part of your brain explained your attire. The other touch-starved half, however, wanted to wear the shortest skirt you owned just to feel men stare holes through it.

You turned into the bakery aisle and pretended to evaluate the nutritional contents of a massive chocolate cake. Maybe this could be plan B, if tonight's endeavor was hopeless.

The comforting hum of fluorescent lights softened the sterile environment around you. Memories of simpler times floated in your mind. Handmade school lunches. Gentle kisses placed on your knee after a bad fall. You closed your eyes, lulled by the promises of love you were granted as a child. Now an adult, you yearned for a partner that could nurture you in a romantic way.

Logan overheard a bag of produce spill onto the floor as he picked up a shopping basket. The cashier dropped it when he saw Logan's blood-stained dress shirt.

Mumbling a string of profanity, he decided to release some steam. "Show's over!" he snapped, flippantly tossing his right arm behind him.

Ignoring the shocked gasps of the other shoppers, Logan sulked further into the store in search of something to soothe his palate.

His doctor tentatively ordered him to "lay off the booze," a suggestion that left three deep puncture wounds in the drywall of his office. Alcohol numbed the emotional and physical pain that plagued him, but it also further delayed his healing powers.

Logan's skeleton was withering away, and all he wanted was a fucking sweet treat.

Your body braced for impact as your chest made contact with a shopper haphazardly turning into the aisle. After dropping the cake onto the pristine white tile, you closed your eyes again, salvaging the moment of peace that was stolen from you.

"Hey, watch where you're going, asshole." You reluctantly opened your eyes and were met with the solid torso of a man.

Slowly raking your gaze up his body, you raised your eyebrows at the sight of his bloody shirt before meeting his narrowed eyes.

Crows feet radiating from the corners. Prescription glasses. He appeared much older than you expected from your brief contact with his chest.

You silently cursed your luck. This meet-cute plan was steadily evolving into a meet-angry situation.

"Not smart to close your eyes in public," he huffed, staring pointedly at the fallen cake. It was hard not to notice your mini skirt. He hasn't seen a skirt that short since the 60s.

Although you had pulled away from him, the man's eyes lingered on your chest. The playful baby-doll top hugged your cleavage in all the right places. Your glossy lips donned a similar shade of pink. He quickly resumed eye contact, feeling like a dirty old man for imagining them wrapped around his cock.

She's too young, you sick fuck. Logan's internal monologue worked overtime to maintain a shred of decency.

Your face turned away from him at the impending embarrassment you were about to put yourself through. Smirking, you shyly retorted, "Not smart to stare at a girl's tits in public." You gently pushed up his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.

Closing the gap between your chests, you tip-toed to reach his ear before whispering, "It's okay . . . I want you to."

The answer to Logan's suffering was sweeter than any slice of cake he could have indulged in. A pretty little thing was actually flirting with him, a cynical ex-soldier worn by the unforgiving rings of time.

Logan's hands found the back of your elbows and slowly pulled you closer to him. You gasped as you felt his belt buckle catch on the flimsy fabric of your top.

"Careful, doll," he grunted, leaning down to meet the side of your face. "I'm old enough to be your father."

You defiantly peered up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, and . . .?"

The man slowly distanced himself from you, gently tugging the hem of your top down to its original state.

Okay, definitely not the best response to seduce an older man. You chewed the inside of your cheek, stunned by your juvenile comeback.

"I'm sorry, kid. Forget I said anything," he muttered before turning into another aisle. He mentally kicked himself for letting the interaction go that far. Although his aching body and mind yearned for some relief, he wouldn't take advantage of some young girl.

He hurriedly stomped past the cashiers, swiping a few cigars from a distracted employee's station.

After the initial shock wore off, you quickly followed the older man to the parking lot. Totally not stalker-ish at all, right?

You wanted to take care of him. His reluctance to return your lust-sick gaze should have deterred you, but it only made you more desperate.

You watched as his hands dug into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. The chipper click of the limo doors unlocking motivated you to get his attention.

"Hey! Can we talk?" You yelled, raising an outstretched palm to stop him from getting inside the car.

Logan froze at the sound of your voice. He contemplated being responsible, slamming his door and driving off without a second glance.

The gentle pressure of your hand wrapping around his wrist made him think extremely irresponsible thoughts.

Turning around to meet your gaze, the older man swiftly opened the passenger door. "Get in. Now," he growled.

Words betrayed you. All you responded with was a surprised squeak as he used your grip on his wrist to push you further into the vehicle.

His eyes widened as you briefly parted your thighs to get settled in the lush leather seat. The sinfully short hem of your skirt bunched up, revealing your underwear.

Logan whipped his head to the front of the limo, avoiding the sight of your body. Unfortunately, he couldn't avoid how you felt against his. You sat at an angle towards him, knees pressing against his thigh. His body tensed as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Why were you following me, huh?" he asked, finally meeting your eyes. "I've had a long fuckin' day and I need answers." He couldn't believe that a young woman like you would be interested in him.

"Yeah, you're old enough to be my father, maybe older-" you paused to move your left hand onto his thigh. "-but I'm done playing with boys." You shyly turned your head before continuing, "Need a real man."

Logan was done holding back. Now, it all made sense. Your lack of direction in the store, the low cut of your outfit that was way too sexy for a late night grocery run. We're both adults, he reasoned. She wants this.

He gingerly cradled your jaw with his large hand, turning your head towards his. "You sure about this, sweetheart?

You covered his hand with your own, bringing your lips to his in a spontaneous kiss. "I-I need to hear you," he stuttered.

"Shut up and fuck me, . . . " you sighed, pausing to ask for his name.

"Logan . . . call me Logan, doll." His left hand snaked around your waist, bunching the delicate material and exposing your breasts.

As you leaned into his palm, he fished the limo keys out of his pocket and clicked twice, locking the doors. He fondled the underside of your tits before rolling the sensitive nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

You were grateful for the tinted windows that shielded your embarrassing moans from the public.

"Already whining for me, hm? So fuckin' needy," he hummed, pushing up your top even further. You crossed your arms to undress, but Logan swatted them away, explaining, "It's cute. Wanna see your tits bounce for me, baby."

He gripped your ass with both hands and effortlessly swung you onto the broad expanse of his lap.

Your back arched as his rough palm cupped your pussy, thumb languidly tracing your sensitive bud through the cotton.

"But this . . . has to go," he drawled, tugging the elastic of your panties before letting it go with a faint snap.

It was too much. You were splayed over the lap of a stranger, hips wantonly rocking yourself over his prominent bulge and mewling as your sensitive clit caught on the rough fabric of his slacks.

He stilled your movements with his hands, lovingly kneading the flesh of your hips. "You okay with this?" he asked, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. "Yeah, Logan . . . more than okay. Need you."

You loved that he was confident enough to take what he wanted but also gracious enough to check in, unlike the boys you were used to fucking around with.

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your skirt and panties, skillfully pushing your legs against your chest as he pulled them off. He decided against slicing them off with his claws, not wanting to hurt you. "Fuck. You're so pretty. My sweet, sweet girl . . ." he cooed. You whined as your aching cunt was finally exposed to Logan's hungry gaze and the chill night air. He groaned as you resumed desecrating his lap with your juices.

Your breath hitched as Logan traced two fingers along your bottom lip. You granted him access, playfully darting your tongue around his digits.

After his fingers were thoroughly soaked, he used your saliva to gently trace your hole, noticing the faint flutter of your walls.

"Need me to fill you up, hm? Poor baby's clenching around nothing. Let me fix that . . ." Logan's palm brushed against your clit as his fingers plunged into you, setting a steady pace.

You were incredibly wet, but he needed to prep you for his thick cock. He drooled, collecting a heavy wad of spit onto his tongue before letting it fall onto your pussy.

"Ah-ah!" You exclaimed, surprised by the contact. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing at the lewd feeling of his spit mixing with your wetness.

He used his other hand to slap repeatedly against your puffy folds, mesmerized by how vulnerable you were being for him.

"Yeah, you like that?" He whispered, curling his fingers as they met your cervix. You covered your mouth, desperately trying to maintain some modesty. Logan withdrew his left hand to pry away your arm and swallow your moans, sloppily slotting his lips into yours.

You gasped into his mouth as you felt your cunt spasm around his fingers, gushing all over his tight slacks.

"Oh, fuck! Logan . . . " you mewled, biting his lower lip while he continued to finger you through your orgasm.

Your head fell into the inviting crook of his neck, nuzzling his graying beard. "Atta girl, come for me," he cooed.

Logan peered down at you, noticing wet droplets dampening his beard. You were silently crying, tears cascading down your puffy cheeks before landing on his face.

At first, he was alarmed. "Hey, hey, shhhh," he purred. "What's the matter, doll?"

His cock twitched when he realized you were smiling against his neck.

"Nothing's wrong, Logan . . . you make me feel so good, that's all."

He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Yeah? Want me to make you feel even better? Fill you up for real this time?"

You nodded dumbly, still basking in the haze of your release.

"Nuh-uh. Words." The simple command made you rut into his lap.

You shuddered while responding. "Wanna feel you inside me. Need your-" Logan bucked up into you. "-cock."

He slid his hands under your thighs, briefly pushing you forward so he could unbuckle his belt. Your small hands slinked toward his waist. "Let me do it," you pleaded, hastily sliding his belt through its loops and tossing it to the floor.

You pulled his cock out of his slacks, leaning down to press sweet little kisses to the head. Your thighs burned with the effort, but it was worth it to feel him momentarily lose control. Logan hissed sharply, "Good girl, fuck-" before guiding his thick cock into your heavenly mouth.

You licked a prominent vein that teased its way above his waistband. The taste of him was utterly intoxicating. You moaned onto his length, choking back tears as he suddenly thrust up into your eager throat.

The delicious weight of his cock on your tongue was short-lived. He cupped your face, forcing your mouth to slide past the tip with an obscene pop.

"Won't last long if you keep doing that, doll. Takes a lot less to get me riled up these days," he explained.

You nodded as you straightened yourself, using your knees to hover above his lap. He teasingly ran the flushed tip of his cock through your folds before sinking into your weeping pussy.

"Oh my god! fuck-" you cried, lowering your hips to embrace his full length. Your hands found stability on Logan's shoulders as you bounced on his cock.

Logan stared in awe at your tits. They were practically spilling out the sides of your cute top, jiggling with each movement of your hips.

As he admired your form, you drunk in the sight of his coarse salt and pepper beard. His wiry glasses barely held onto the slope of his strong nose due to your eager movements. You paid special attention to his crimson-stained shirt, wondering how he was enduring the wounds.

"You're hurt." You stated, pausing to slowly unbutton his dress shirt.

Logan's hands grabbed a handful of your ass and slammed you down onto his lap, forcing you to continue taking his cock.

"Never said you could stop," he huffed. "It'll take time, but I'm healing."

You gasped as your clit hitched on the bunched fabric of his slacks, frantically shrugging off his shirt in the process. A devastating moan ripped from Logan's throat as you peppered kisses on his wounds. The coppery taste of his blood was oddly soothing, reminding you that the man buried in your cunt was real and not just a figment of your lust-fueled imagination.

Logan loved how dazed you looked, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, your pupils dilated and glossy. His cock twitched every time your soft tits brushed against his face. You whined as the steady rhythm of your hips faltered, hinting at your imminent release.

"Lean forward, baby. Let your old man take care of you," he sighed, wrapping his broad arms around your waist. You allowed yourself to slump forward, arching your back and playfully wiggling your ass in the air.

You yelped as he slapped your ass with enough force to feel the sting radiate from his outstretched palm. "Such a fuckin' tease," he growled, filling you up in one thrust. He set a punishing pace that made you sob into his chest. The loud squelches of your release echoed throughout the limo, mirroring your high-pitched wines.

"Oh, my god! . . ." you mewled, savoring the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. Your breath hitched every time his hips met yours, balls slapping against the sensitive skin of your ass.

He fucked up into your cunt, relishing the fact that you'd probably never had a cock as big as his. Logan stared at where you were connected, hypnotized by the subtle drag of your folds along his rugged length.

"Don't know what I did to deserve a pretty girl like you." His teeth tugged on the delicate strap of your top, exposing your breasts. His mouth enveloped the bud, gently sucking and pulling as they hardened.

"Logan . . . can't take it anymore. I'm close." You clenched around him, earning another hard slap on your ass.

"You gonna come for me sweetheart, hm?" He somehow increased his pace, hips drilling into your sensitive cunt. "C'mon, come all over my cock. Such a sweet young thing, so eager to please . . . " he hummed into your ear.

"And just so we're clear, I am definitely older than your father." His filthy words made you arch even higher, stilling your hips mid-air and allowing Logan to fuck you through your release.

The sound of you faintly chanting his name as you came sent him over the edge. "You can take it," he encouraged as your pathetic whines intermingled with his unabashed groans. His hips drove home, bouncing you harshly against his tense thighs and spilling into you with a low growl.

You almost blacked out at the feeling of his cum spurting into your walls, reaching even further when Logan buried his cock to the hilt. You clenched around him, overstimulated and thoroughly fucked.

"That's it, just relax . . . You look so pretty milking my cock," he praised, brushing stray hair away from your face.

You managed to sit upright and shakily moved to lift yourself off his cock, but Logan quickly steadied your hips. He's still hard, you realized, fascinated by his renewed vigor.

He panted, obviously just as spent as you were.

"So, uh, tomorrow, the Italian place on fifth street, 8 PM?"

You narrowed your eyes, incredibly confused at his choice of words after experiencing the best sex you've ever had.

"Our first date," he clarified. He kissed your cheek and you blushed at the contrast between the innocent action and the fact that his hard cock was still buried in your cunt. "After all, I'm a real man, right? And real men plan dates." He plastered on a cocky grin, repeating your earlier statements.

"Okay, old man. It's a date." You smiled, kissing his mouth with passion.

an: Ah!!! I had so much fun writing this. Old Man Logan, when will it be my turn >:[

8K notes · View notes

cinnaleaf · 3 months ago

Text

In Your DMs: Left on Read - Ch 1: Never Say Never

summary: you left jude on read once—but after one reckless night, he’s making damn sure you never ignore him again 💫 | MDNI 18+

warnings: angst/tension, push/pull dynamic, alcohol consumption, party setting, language, sexual references, public argument, easter eggs from previous fics wc: ~5.9k (approx. 21 minutes) 💋: it’s only chapter 1… pray for them. song inspo: VeLDÁ x Bad Bunny ft Omar Courtz & Dei V

It had been two weeks since you hooked up with Jude in a drunken rendezvous, and while the dick was surprisingly fantastic, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to get the ick. You gave Jude your number after you left his house that afternoon in post-orgasm delusion and he’d been bombarding your phone with texts, voice messages, unscheduled facetime calls, and random tiktoks that “reminded him of you” ever since. He clearly thought your hookup was something more, which made you regret your decision to give him any attention at all. Although pretty privilege had its perks, a world class footballer being obsessed with you was not a perk you wanted to engage in – especially when it was Jude Bellingham.

You sat in the apartment you shared with Bri and Tasha, watching your other friend, Mateo, scroll through his phone while shaking his head. “Miss girl…” he drawled with an amused grin. “They have all of your tea in 4k. All of it.” Mateo handed his phone to you and you nastily glared at the screen, annoyed that you suddenly became a part of whatever the fuck this was:

SpillTheBeansUK Looks like Jude Bellingham had his eye on something other than football two weeks ago 👀. The England star was spotted leaving a Madrid club with 21 year old Y/N, an NYU Tisch film & television student from Miami who’s currently studying abroad and very much a regular in both cities’ party scenes. Her dad is none other than THE ‘Dr. Cinch’, the mastermind behind SculptHaus Miami, the go to clinic for IG baddies and A-listers looking for that perfect CINCHED look 💉 Jude’s no stranger to being deep in a girl’s likes, but he’s been extra consistent with Y/N’s lately. What’s really going on here? Because word is, she’s not exactly the type to be impressed.. especially by ballers like him. 🤨

2Fast4VAR wait she’s from miami?? bro lost before he even started. she’s built different. 😂

CertifiedMenace69 if i was jude i’d be in her dms, comments, and her email too she’s bad af

BigBootyJudeyFC he’s about to start liking those inspirational quotes on IG like “if it’s meant to be, it will be.” 💀

MissMiamiDade305 jude better watch out... does anyone remember when she had that miami promoter crying on IG live last year?? she does NOT play with these men 💀💀

gossipgorlzzz not him liking her pics and finally getting the W! stay persistent kings!!

SpillTheBeansES Si Jude cree que puede cambiarla.. le deseo suerte 🤷‍♀️ (If Jude thinks he can change her.. I wish him luck)

JudePorFavor jude’s probably in her DMs like “pls respond angel 😩” LMAO

Baddiebydesign not dr. cinch’s daughter!! she’s set for life. face card AND her dad’s the plug? i bet her friends never have to pay for fillers 😭

AnonymousInsider13 i heard she’s cool with that real madrid baloncesto guy too…santiago something. ngl that man is fine af. if she’s choosing between him and jude i see why she’s taking her sweet time

RedBlooded1892 maybe her dad can fix jude’s shoulder that’s about to fall off the hinge 😭 cinchdollsnob her dad literally invented half the faces we double tap. a baddie with real face card genetics. life ain’t fair. ChampagnePapiButBroke jude and his big bum liking all her pics is sending me. boy was lurking HARD

ChickenNCoke cinched bellibabe is kind of an iconic alias icl

mamacitasintl lmaooo if jude’s trying to lock her down..good luck. her dad probably has a vetting process more intense than real madrid’s medicals

nosygirlieFC jude defo heard about trent bagging the perfume baddie and thought he could do the same LOL

You were annoyed by the post to an extreme amount. Whoever was the administrator of this god awful account decided to treat you like you were some Z list Love Island reject instead of a girl who got dicked down ONE time in a moment of weakness and dipped.

Bri leaned over to scan the screen and let out a cackle. “ ‘Jude Bellingham had his eye on something other than football two weeks ago!’ ” she mimicked in a dramatized voice.

“Ew.” You scrunched your nose in disgust.

Tasha was deep in the comments on her own phone, scrolling at lightning speed. “No but, ‘She’s not exactly the type to be impressed… especially by ballers like him’ is so shady,” she snorted, flicking her eyes to yours. “The streets know you too well.”

Mateo looked at you with a sly grin, clasping his hands together. “Sooo...how does it feel to be a Bellingham Baddie?”

You cut your eyes at him. “Don’t fucking start.”

“It’s too late.” Bri waved her phone in the air, grinning. “Your inauguration is already underway. These people are in the comments eating it up.”

“Let me see” Mateo snatched Bri’s phone from her and started reading out loud. “ ‘She’s bad as hell, I’d be in her likes too.’ ” He smirked, flipping his wrist. “Real recognizes real.”

Tasha leaned over, giggling. “Wait, this one says ‘Jude’s in his romantic era. He’s playing the long game.’ ”

“Oh hell no. Absolutely not.” You reached for the phone but Mateo dodged you with the speed of a messy gay man who lived for drama.

“Hold on, hold on.” He scrolled further, widening his eyes before he started howling. “Ohhh girl, not this one!” he wheezed, hardly able to get his words out. “ ‘Jude’s big bum came from Dr. Cinch? Noted.’ ”

Bri and Tasha both started laughing with tears streaming down their eyes. “Not Jude having BBL allegations because they found out who your dad is!”

You ran your hands across your face, shaking your head. “I hate this app.”

Mateo was screaming along with the other two, kicking his feet out but you really didn’t find it all that funny. “No, I LOVE this app!”

After their laughter subsided, Tasha shook her head, continuing to scroll through the comments. “The way they dug up your whole life just off one club sighting is actually insane.”

“I know. They need jobs.” You groaned, leaning back against the cushions.

Mateo tilted his head while eyeing you. “Well, since you’re the new bombshell in the Bellingham Baddie villa, you may as well tell me...how was it?”

Bri and Tasha perked up immediately, turning to face you while giggling, mainly because they already knew. You groaned, rolling your eyes as you picked up your own phone. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” Mateo questioned, not fully believing you because you usually gave him the full rundown in detail, but this time you were holding back. “Just fine?! Don’t tell me he’s a minute man. It’s always the hot ones.”

Bri leaned in. “Mmm, I don’t know about that. Tasha and I called and she couldn’t even talk. That man blew her back out for sure.”

“In her words exactly.. it was ‘one hundred percent worth it’ ” Tasha added. “If the dick was bad she would’ve come home the next day and roasted his ass but she didn’t. She was quiet as a mouse.”

Mateo pointed at you accusingly, narrowing his eyes while analyzing you. “And you keep dodging the conversation which means it had to be amazing.”

You rolled your eyes, fake scrolling through your phone like you always did when you couldn’t look someone in the eye. “Well I don’t know about all of that now...he’s doing too much.”

Mateo snickered. “You gave him the best pussy of his life and dipped. Of course he’s doing too much.”

You groaned again, letting your head fall back against the couch. “Can y’all shut the fuck up?”

“Absolutely not.” Mateo fired back immediately, leaning forward to read you for filth. “I know you. If it was mid, you would’ve been dragging him for filth. You’d be in this living room doing a full dissertation on why that man is a waste of height.”

Tasha nodded, scrolling with purpose. “But instead you’re holding back.”

Bri suddenly gasped, pointing a finger at you. “Ooh, she likes him.”

That was where you drew the line. The suggestion that you, of all people, would be catching feelings for a footballer, let alone Jude Bellingham sent you straight into defense mode. It wasn’t even about him specifically, but merely the principle of the matter. You didn’t date athletes. Not seriously anyway. NEVER seriously. You learned a long time ago they were all the same: entitled, egotistical, and so used to women throwing themselves at their feet just because they could handle a ball and had a few viral highlight reels. They saw women as accessories, something to show off when it suited them and discard when it didn’t. You weren’t about to be anyone’s little off-season toy passed around in a group chat the second they got bored. That was never going to be you.

But ballers weren’t completely useless though, they had their perks. Stamina? Unmatched. Strength? Ideal. But once the adrenaline wore off and post-orgasm clarity set in, the appeal disappeared right along with it. You entertained a few before just for fun, just to see if they were worth the hype, but they all had one thing in common: they started thinking they were special. Like they had you hooked. Like they were pulling the strings.

It was funny, really. Because if anything? They were always the ones falling first. Every time.

Jude was proving to be no different. The way he sauntered up to you in the club as if he knew where the night was headed, versus the way his ego deflated the minute you left his messages on read for weeks was textbook athlete behavior. And now? He was chasing you.

Mateo tapped the edge of his phone against his palm, watching you with an expression that made it very clear he was about to ask something that would grate your nerves.

“So what’s really going on with you and Jude?” He tilted his head, brows raised in intrigue. “Like.. what is he to you?”

You didn’t even look up from your phone and scrolled as you answered, “A pronoun.”

Mateo’s mouth dropped open, delighted by your messy answer. “Be so fucking for real Y/N” he said, crossing one leg over the other. “If he’s just a pronoun to you then why did you give him your number?”

Tasha didn’t even give you a chance to answer before jumping in. “That’s actually a great fucking question. Because you knew giving him your number meant this...” she gestured to the entire situation, the group chat chaos, the SpillTheBeansUK mess, “so why did you do it?”

You sighed dramatically, tilting your head back against the couch from being exhausted by all of this nonsense. “He asked for it, so I gave it.”

Bri blinked at you. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Mateo was unconvinced. “And you just gave it to him? No hesitation? No thoughts?”

“I was in a state of post-nut delusion.” You shrugged, sipping from your water bottle to avoid any further questions.

Tasha sucked her teeth. “Mmm.”

Bri was already side-eyeing you. “Mmhmm.”

Mateo tapped his phone again, unimpressed. “Lying just like the mattress he put you through, I see.”

You ignored them. There was a very brief moment where you considered not giving him your number. You could’ve just taken your Uber and dipped, pretended like it never happened, and gone back to your normal, Bellingham-free existence. But Jude gave you a cocky, half lidded smirk that made you fold immediately when he asked. You figured your brain was still stuck somewhere between your legs for wanting to hear from him again, which was exactly why you were so annoyed with yourself. Not only was he blowing up your phone, but now you were on SpillTheBeansUK. You scrolled through the endless posts dissecting your one mistake, making you feel more irritated with every new comment. There were threads analyzing your every move, posts tracking Jude’s IG likes, and an entire debate about whether or not you were “Jude’s type.”

“How do these people have so much free time? Is the unemployment rate that high?” you muttered, aggressively tapping out of Instagram. “I was in the same club as him one time, and suddenly I’m the internet’s main character of the day? I fucking hate it here.”

Bri snickered, nudging Tasha. “Not her being mad when she willingly chose to leave with him.”

You shot the nastiest glare at both of them.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Bri challenged, raising her brow.

She wasn’t wrong. You did willingly leave with him. You hated the attention and the way people were dissecting your life, but you weren’t completely mad at the way Jude was acting. Mainly because he wasn’t just moving on like it never happened and letting you fade into the background. He was still chasing you. And even if you never wanted to admit it.. you liked that.

Your phone pinged in your hand to bring you out of your thoughts, making you glance down at your notifications.

JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄 17:43 - Did I do something?? 17:51 - Because I’m struggling to believe I had you screaming my name two weeks ago but now you’re airing me. 18:02 - Hello? 18:27 - Ok I get it. I know you don’t really do this athlete thing. 18:28 - I’m not blocked though 👀 18:42 - Let me take you out?

You rolled your eyes before switching to a different text thread.

SANTI DOMINGUEZ 🏀 🇩🇴 20:42 - Y/Nitaaa que haces esta noche? (what are you doing tonight?) 20:42 - Fiesta en La Finca at mi pana’s house for the night. Big ass infinity pool, drinks, music, todo. Pull up. 20:43 - Bring your friends too. Dime que si. (Tell me yes.)

You smiled, already typing out a response.

20:45 - A party in La Finca? Bet. 20:46 - We’re coming. You better have good drinks!

Santi hearted the message instantly.

20:47 - Siempre, preciosa. Nos vemos. (Always, gorgeous. See you soon.)

You liked Santi. He was one of the few people in Madrid who weren’t constantly on some clout chasing nonsense, which meant you actually enjoyed being around him. And even though he could be a little flirty, it wasn’t serious.

You were just about to lock your phone when another text rolled in.

JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄 20:48 - Your dad is a plastic surgeon??

You frowned, watching as a second message came in.

— [SpillTheBeansUK post]

Oh. He really was chronically online.

“Ew,” you muttered from the ick of it all before typing out your own response.

20:48 - why the fuck are you sending me STB links like you’re a gossip girl admin? touch grass.

There was no immediate response but you knew he probably read it the second the notification popped up on his phone. He was probably typing, stopping, then typing again, trying to figure out how to keep you engaged without pushing too far. It was funny really, the difference between the two of them. Santi would text once, maybe twice most of the time and you would reply immediately with no hesitation. Meanwhile, Jude would send text after text, throw in tiktoks, voice messages and a Facetime call here and there, which made you want to take your sweet time responding.

You could already feel the looks your friends were giving you, but Mateo was the first to speak.

“So you answer Santiago immediately but Jude has to beg for a response?” He smirked, already piecing together what would likely go down tonight at the party. Tasha hummed in agreement and glanced over your shoulder at your phone. “She doesn’t even respond to us that fast but Santi texts and suddenly her fingers work?”

You locked your phone and flipped it over on the table so they wouldn’t see any other message notifications from Jude or Santi. “It’s not that deep.”

“It is that deep,” the three of them spoke in unison.

Tasha pointed at your phone and then crossed her arms. “Explain.”

You stretched your arms over your head, already starting to prepare your exit strategy. “I don’t have to explain anything.”

“Oh, but you do,” Bri countered, shifting to face you. “Because you clearly like the attention from both of them.”

You let out a sharp exhale and grabbed your phone, making your way to your bedroom. “I have to get ready for the party and I suggest y’all do the same if you’re coming.”

You dropped your phone onto the bed and stood in front of your wardrobe, biting your lip while you scanned through your options. La Finca pool parties weren’t the same as your club nights. The vibe was more laid back but the guest list was usually stacked with the most beautiful people you’d ever seen, so naturally you had to one up them and show them how a Miami girl stepped out. Just as you were grabbing a cropped halter top from the hanger, your phone vibrated against your comforter and you snatched it up immediately.

JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄 20:58 - Touch grass with me. What’s the move tonight?

You debated telling him about the party, but you decided against it and threw your phone back on the bed with a scoff to finish getting ready. Although he was giving you the ick, something about the way he chased you fed a very specific, very vain part of you and you would be lying if you didn’t admit you weren’t the least bit curious in how far Jude was willing to take it.

Somewhere outside of your room, you could hear Bri and Tasha moving around, digging through wardrobe drawers and arguing over what top to wear. Mateo’s voice floated down the hall, loudly reminding everyone that if they didn’t hurry up, he was leaving without all of you.

An hour later, the four of you piled into a car with the windows down as the city lights of Madrid blurred past. The further you drove into La Finca, the bigger the homes became. When you finally pulled up to the house, you could hear a mix of reggaeton, afrobeats and spanish trap music playing through the air. The garden surrounding the property was already full of people with drinks in hand as they laughed and swayed to the music.

You made your way to the pool area, smelling the mixed scent of tangy smoke from hookah and rum. You adjusted your top, feeling the backless cut brush your skin in the breezy, but warm night time air as you walked on the stone pathway. Your matching mini skirt hugged your hips just right and dipped low enough to show the string of your bikini bottoms underneath. Your small entourage followed behind you, already plotting the kind of chaos they could get into tonight.

Mateo adjusted the collar of his shirt, scoping out the scene. “I’m manifesting a man with a villa tonight. Just watch.”

“Manifest being the bartender while you’re at it” Tasha muttered, eyeing the outdoor bar where bottles of Ron Barcelo, Brugal, and Larios gin were already in rotation. Someone had cracked open a case of Estrella Galicia beers, and a group near the pool was passing around cups of Kalimotxo, the unofficial drink of every wild night in Spain.

“Vamonos mamis!” Santi yelled from somewhere near the pool.

His height alone made him impossible to miss. He was a towering 6’5”, had broad shoulders with a trim waist, perfectly white teeth, dimples, deep sun kissed skin, and a freshly trimmed fade that made you tilt your head slightly to take a better look. He had that natural Dominican aura that made it impossible to tell whether he was flirting or just being nice.

“Oh, you’re outside, outside tonight!” he teased, sliding his arm around your waist for a quick hug. He glanced behind you and smiled at Bri, Tasha and Mateo. “Good to see you all. Drinks are in the kitchen. Hookah’s by the pool.”

“And you’re where?” Bri asked, arching a brow while biting the nail of her finger flirtatiously.

“Everywhere.” Santi winked, then tilted his head back toward the pool. “Come find me if you need anything.” He disappeared back into the crowd before any of you had time to respond, leaving the scent of his cologne lingering between all of you.

“Oooh he’s wearing Rêveur.” Tasha nodded in approval, taking a second glance back to get another look at him. “That man has taste.”

“But why is he so fineee?” Bri muttered under her breath.

Mateo snickered. “Because God had time when he made Dominican men that’s why.”

You hated gassing men up too much, so you gave them a blank stare, eventually walking away to make your way toward the drinks as Bad Bunny’s “VeLDÁ” played through the sound system. They followed behind and Mateo took on his duty as bartender, rummaging through bottles of Havana Club and Brugal Añejo.

“Shots or mixed drinks?” Mateo asked, double fisting bottles in his hands.

“Mixed” you answered immediately.

“Shots” Bri and Tasha dueted.

“Majority rules, sorry Y/N” Mateo mused as he reached for the shot glasses.

On the other side of the yard, Jude leaned back in an outdoor lounge chair, resting his arms lazily while his drink sat half empty on the table in front of him. He wasn’t drunk, but the warmth of Madrid, the drinks, and the atmosphere had him leaning into the mood.

“That’s her?” Cama tilted his head toward the cluster of people near the pool, smiling with curiosity.

Jude didn’t answer at first and stared at the condensation on his glass before moving his eyes back to you. He clocked you as soon as you stepped on the stone pathway, he couldn’t have missed you even if he tried. The backless halter top with the matching mini skirt, coupled with the sheen of your Dior lip oil catching in the light every time you tilted your head back to laugh, had his head spinning. Even from a distance, he could see the faint tan lines peeking from under the straps of your bikini strings underneath your outfit.

“Damn..” Kylian whistled beside him, leaning forward to take a closer look at Bri and Tasha. “Who are the girls next to her though?”

Jude glanced sideways, trying to suppress a smirk. “Focus mate.”

“I am focused,” Kylian replied with a laugh, still scanning the scene.

Cama chuckled and nudged Jude’s arm. “She looks good, bro. You bringing her home tonight or what?”

Jude tilted his head, taking another slow sip of his drink. “We’ll see. She likes to play hard to get.”

“Does she know you’re here?” Kylian asked as if he cared, when he was actually plotting on Bri and Tasha.

“Nah.”

The truth sat heavy on his chest. He hadn’t expected to run into you tonight, but then again, Madrid was a small world when it came to hanging around certain circles. It was bound to happen eventually. But seeing you laughing with your friends did something to him that he wasn’t ready to unpack.

“You should go over there” Cama suggested, nudging Jude’s arm.

“Not yet.” Jude replied, following the curve of your bare shoulders as you tipped your head back to down a shot with your friends. The twist of your face from the burn of the alcohol, along with the parting of your lips made it too easy to remember the way those same lips felt against him just two weeks ago.

—

The shot you had just taken settled warmly in your stomach while the bass from the music grew heavier. The music was loud, the air filled with scents of alcohol, sweat, and smoke but none of it could shake the buzz in your head from spotting Jude in the party crowd.

Of all the parties in Madrid, he had to be at this one.

You clutched your glass tighter, trying to resist the urge to look back at the lounge chairs near the pool. Bri crossed her arms and smirked, darting her eyes between you and Jude. “So you’re just gonna ignore him all night?”

“Ignore who?” you replied flatly, knowing damn well who she was talking about.

“Oh girl. Pack it up.” Tasha chimed in from your other side while swaying to the beat of the music. “You know exactly who.”

“No. I don’t.” you muttered, wiping off the condensation wetness from your fingertips.

“Then why are you gripping the glass like that?” Bri teased, bumping your hip with hers.

You ignored her and instead scanned the crowd for any sign of Santi. You spotted him leaning against a pillar with a bottle of beer in hand, laughing at something one of his teammates said. His crisp white shirt clung to his torso, making you gawk just a little. When he caught your gaze, he lifted his beer and gave you a blinding smile.

Tasha clocked it immediately and raised her eyebrows. “Well.. looks like you have options tonight. Bellingham or Dominguez?”

You sighed heavily, ignoring her again and headed to the pool to dip your feet in. The infinity pool stretched out in front of you as you swung your legs back and forth in the water. You should’ve felt relaxed, or maybe even carefree and tipsy, but instead you were on edge.

On the other side of things, now that you were closer, Jude watched you from the rim of his glass as he took long, slow sips. Kylian and Cama were talking next to him but their words turned into background noise while he observed the way you leaned back with your hands pressed against the pool deck stone.

“She’s going to notice you staring eventually” Kylian leaned in, sensing Jude still had you on his mind.

Jude tilted his head back to finish his drink. The thought of you being so close yet so far away made the alcohol sit heavier in his stomach. You hadn’t really been giving him much of a thought since you hooked up and that bothered him. It made him want you even more. He internally debated with himself, wondering if he should just leave you alone or speak up now that he had an opening that you absolutely couldn’t leave on read. Just as he was about to stand, Cama clapped him on the shoulder with a wide grin. “Go talk to her bro. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She could throw her drink in his face..” Kylian added helpfully.

Jude snorted. “Nah. I don’t think she’s like that.”

He really didn’t know you as well as he thought he did, you were definitely ‘like that’ if the need arose.

Jude stood up with enough adrenaline and liquid courage to walk the short path to the pool’s edge where you sat. You felt his towering presence immediately as he stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, glancing toward you swishing your feet in the water.

“You ignoring my texts now?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, surprised that he had the gall to start the conversation off that way. “You’re not serious.”

A gleam of moonlight caught on his lips when he shifted closer to you with a lazy smirk plastered over his face. “I get it. You’re a busy girl. But you could’ve at least told me you would be here tonight.”

“For what? Why would I tell you?” you countered, looking up at him in annoyance. “I don’t even know you like that.” The nerve of this boy to think he deserved to know any of your moves when he wasn’t your man, or anything remotely close to it.

“You know me well enough to let me fuck..”

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “Excuse me?”

Jude tilted his head, still with a dumb smirk on his face that made you want to slap it clean off his face. His hands were still tucked in his pockets casually, like he wasn’t standing there stirring the most out of you.

“I’m just saying..” he lazily shrugged, as if that would smooth over the conversation.

“Oh, ‘you’re just saying’ ” you mocked, standing up to meet his eye, though you still ended up having to look up because he was so tall. The edge of your skirt brushed against his thigh and you were close enough to see the sheen of sweat on his thick hairline from the warm night air. Up close, Jude was hard to ignore. He got under your skin in the right way to make you give him your full attention.

Just the way he liked it.

“And this is coming from the same man blowing up my phone like I owe him something.”

Jude chuckled under his breath, his eyes moving briefly to your outfit before locking back onto your eyes. “I wouldn’t have to blow your phone up if you just responded the first time, angel.”

Angel.

That word hit you straight in your core. It was impossible not to hear his voice from that night echoing in your head.

“That’s it, angel. Keep fucking me back.”

You took a deep inhale through your nose, clenching your fists on your sides as heat flared through your chest from frustration and other things you weren’t ready to name.

“Don’t call me that” you snapped, but the hitch in your breath told a different story. A story that said you liked it, and Jude noticed. His eyes lowered to your lips briefly, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward like he knew exactly where your mind went.

“Ohhh, so you do remember” he mused, clearly enjoying himself.

“Jude, I swear-” You shoved his shoulder but he barely moved in the slightest bit. He stood his ground, leaning into your ear to speak low enough so only you could hear. “Don’t start. Unless you’re trying to start something you know I can finish for you.”

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, you know that?”

The warmth from the alcohol running through your veins made your voice louder than you intended, making you become acutely aware of the heads starting to turn your way. In between your conversation with Jude, Tasha and Bri made their way over to sit with Kylian and Cama near the lounge chairs. Bri was sitting on Kylian’s lap with her arms draped over his neck like they knew each other way longer than what had to have been no longer than 15 minutes. All four of them were watching the scene unfold with varying degrees of amusement.

“Okay, fuck this” you muttered under your breath, feeling the embarrassment creep in. Eyes on you and whispers spreading throughout the crowd was the exact type of thing you wanted to avoid. Your mind flashed to the SpillTheBeans post and the comments dissecting your entire life, snapping you right back to the cruel reality of being a newly added ‘Bellingham Baddie’, as your friends called it.

“This is exactly why I don’t fucking date athletes” you jabbed a finger at Jude’s chest for emphasis.

“Who said anything about dating?”

You laughed in disbelief and threw your hands up. The tipsiness loosened your filter in all the wrong ways. “You know what? I’m so sick of-”

“Todo bien?” (Everything okay?)

The sound of Santi’s voice made you freeze mid sentence. You turned around just enough to see him approaching with an unbothered walk, beer still in hand like he wasn’t about to walk straight into chaos. His eyes moved between you and Jude, reading the situation.

“We’re good.” you answered, holding up your hand toward Santi as if that would somehow deescalate whatever was about to go down.

“Didn’t look like it,” Santi eyed Jude in a way that was more curious than confrontational, but Jude wasn’t having it, being the crashout that he was.

“You her bodyguard or something?” Jude shot, tilting his chin as he stepped fully into Santi’s space. Santi’s smile didn’t budge but his posture shifted subtly enough to raise the tension up a couple notches. “Nah. I’m just looking out for a friend” he replied coolly, not breaking eye contact.

“Yeah? Well, she doesn’t need you to–”

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!” you yelled loud enough to cut through the music and all the other conversations happening around the pool. Heads turned with the rise of your voice and half of the party had their eyes locked on the three of you, but you were too far gone, and too far drunk to care.

“I am so tired of you men acting like I’m some prize you get to win!” You jabbed a finger between both of them in frustration. “I don’t fucking belong to either of you! And you..” You turned to Jude with fire in your eyes. “Stop acting like I owe you something just because I let you fuck me ONE time!”

Jude’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“And you..” You whipped back to Santi, who at least had the decency to look slightly guilty. “Don’t walk up here like you’re about to save me! I don’t fucking need saving!”

The silence was deafening after the read you gave them, broken only by the distant sound of water pushing against the pool edge and gossiping chatter from the crowd.

Finally, Jude ran a hand over his curls, exhaling hard through his nose. “You done?”

“Yes, I’m done! I’m never fucking you again so get it out of your thick skulled head!” you snapped and stormed off toward the house without looking back.

Back at the lounge chairs, Kylian and Cama exchanged looks while Bri and Tasha creased in laughter.

“I don’t know whether to be scared or impressed..” Kylian shook his head in amusement.

“Definitely impressed,” Cama replied with a grin.

You stormed off down the path leading toward the house, weaving through random groups of partiers who definitely caught at least half of the argument. The adrenaline and frustration swirling around in your head had you on ten.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” you spoke to yourself, enraged. “I fucking hate ballers. Worms for brains ass motherfuckers.”

The nerve and audacity of that man to approach you like he was owed something more than the one night you already gave him pissed you off. Your chest was filled with a fury of emotions you really didn’t want to unpack, especially not in the middle of a party where half of the crowd had probably pulled out their phones to message their group chats about what they just witnessed. As soon as you reached the back door of the house, Mateo appeared beside you out of nowhere, moving swiftly to match your quick pace.

“Girl.. what was all of that?” he asked, eyes wide with equal parts concern and curiosity.

“Nothing.” you muttered with clenched teeth, but Mateo wasn’t having it.

“Nothing? That was prime telenovela content and I need details immediately. Why did-”

“I’m never fucking Jude again,” you snapped, cutting him off before he had a chance to launch his full analysis. It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. Mateo knew Jude having you this bothered by his presence meant you’d be rethinking that exact statement in approximately three to five business days. He’d seen it all before, so instead of pushing any further, he took one sip of his drink and gave a knowing look between you, Santiago, and Jude.

“Mmm… never say never.”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #jude bellingham imagine #footballer imagines #jude bellingham fanfic

310 notes · View notes

firstkanaphans · 4 months ago

Text

Khun Dome's Peaceful Property fic, CH. 2

The director of Peaceful Property wrote a fic as a Christmas present for the fandom. You can read my translation of the first chapter here. And you can find the original Thai version of this chapter here.

2 days ago The night Peach called Home but he didn’t pick up Sat, 21/12 peach93 & Dome Online Psychic

peach93: [phone call to Dome lasting 01:13:06] peach93: Thank you na krap, Uncle Dome Online Psychic: Not a problem ja Dome Online Psychic: I’m always here if you need advice Dome Online Psychic: 💯💯💯 peach93: But Uncle krap peach93: I still have doubts peach93: Why does it have to be on the night of the 24th? Dome Online Psychic: It’s in accordance with Western astrology Dome Online Psychic: It’s just a coincidence that it also happens to be Christmas Eve peach93: But aren’t you a Thai psychic krap? Dome Online Psychic: Do you believe me or not? peach93: Fine fine. I believe you krap. Dome Online Psychic: Just do exactly as your uncle tells you Dome Online Psychic: And it’ll fix your bad luck Dome Online Psychic: Your life will be free from aging, illness, and disease Dome Online Psychic: So you can love each other for a very long time peach93: We’re just friends krap Dome Online Psychic: [picture of a very surprised Peach] [Translator’s note: It’s Tay Tawan] peach93: Wait a minute na krap. How did you get my picture? Dome Online Psychic: I am a psychic Dome Online Psychic: Seeing the future ❌ Seeing two male friends act suspiciously ✅ Dome Online Psychic: May it be so. Like TayNew 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 peach93: Uncle!

Today Tue, 21/12 14:14 Vimarnsukman Ghost-Hunting Co.

pangx2🍞: [Screenshot of the thumbnail for an episode of “Ghost Talk Radio: The Haunting Wave of the New Generation.” The episode is titled “The Demon of Wat Pho Kla has been defeated” and the host’s name is Khun Polka.] [Translator's note: Wat Pho Kla is the temple Peach was visiting in the previous chapter. And also Khun Polka appears to be GMMTV manager P’Jack.] pangx2🍞: Isn’t this the ghost the villagers asked for your help with, Hia? peach93: Yes pangx2🍞: Oh! You did the job by yourself without saying anything? pangx2🍞: I missed out on filming the ghost-busting content peach93: Ha ha go HOME!: [gif of Michael Scott from “The Office” saying “OH, WOW!”] Lawyer Kan: May I say something na ka Lawyer Kan: I have told the customers at the restaurant that we will be closing early tonight ka Lawyer Kan: For your Secret Santa activity, Khun Home peach93: Thank you so much, Kan! go HOME!: [gif of an animated penguin coming out of its shell saying “I LOVE YOU! ❤️”] Lawyer Kan: I will pretend not to see your message, Khun Home na ka go HOME!: 💔💔💔

pangx2🍞, Lawyer Kan, & Suradech Ketmuangrong

pangx2🍞: Did you see, Mae!!! Lawyer Kan: See what ka? pangx2🍞: [screenshot of the above text conversation where Peach admits to ghost-busting solo] Lawyer Kan: I can read it in the group just fine by myself na ka pangx2🍞: In my whole life, I’ve never caught Hia in a lie. Not even once pangx2🍞: This is the very first time! Lawyer Kan: What are you talking about na ka? pangx2🍞: I’ve already looked into everything pangx2🍞: Hia was the one who went to exorcise the ghost for the villagers that night pangx2🍞: But it seems Hia pangx2🍞: Oops. Sent it too soon ha ha pangx2🍞: It seems P’Home was there too pangx2🍞: They’re such good actors pangx2🍞: Secretly going to exorcise ghosts together just the two of them! pangx2🍞: It’s very suspisious ka pangx2🍞: Isn’t that right, P’Suradech? Suradech Ketmuangrong: Krap Lawyer Kan: You spelled “suspicious” wrong ka Lawyer Kan: Why don’t you just ask them directly ka? Lawyer Kan: Since you’ve already figured everything out Lawyer Kan: As it is now, you’re hiding the truth just like them ka pangx2🍞: Whose side are you on, Maeeeee!!!! Lawyer Kan: I’m just saying that everything you’ve accused them of Lawyer Kan: Cannot be used as evidence in court ka Lawyer Kan: Legally… pangx2🍞: 😪😪😪 pangx2🍞: Wake me up when you’re done typing Lawyer Kan: You have to find more concrete evidence ka pangx2🍞: [picture of Peach and Home asleep in bed together] pangx2🍞: This isn’t evidence enough ka?! Lawyer Kan: Stop using the same old evidence ka pangx2🍞: Then what do you want me to do, Mae? pangx2🍞: In just a few hours, it will be time for Secret Santa pangx2🍞: I will expose them during the game! pangx2🍞: I will expose them during the gameee!!! pangx2🍞: I will expose them during the gameeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!! Lawyer Kan: Then you will need a witness ka

Lawyer Kan invites Dome Online Psychic to chat

Dome Online Psychic: Hello, Khun Lawyer Kan. This is the new Line account of Uncle Dome Online Psychic since the old Line account I used for a very long time has disappeared. You can contact the team here na krap. Thank you krap 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 Lawyer Kan: @ Dome Online Psychic I would like to speak directly with Uncle Dome ka. I do not want to speak with the automated message response system ka.

Dome Online Psychic joined to chat

Dome Online Psychic: What’s up ja, Nong Noo Kan? Lawyer Kan: Allow me to get right to the point na ka, Khun Uncle Dome Dome Online Psychic: Do you want a group reading? Dome Online Psychic: That will be more expensive na

Suradech Ketmuangrong left chat

pangx2🍞: Oh! P’Suradech!!! pangx2🍞: Wait! I will pay for you!!! Dome Online Psychic: What do you want to know, Nong Noo Kan? Dome Online Psychic: I see your soulmate is in this group too na Lawyer Kan: I don’t want to talk about that ka! pangx2🍞: [gif of a cartoon rabbit saying “EH, I’M CONFUZZLED…”]

pangx2🍞invites Suradech Ketmuangrong to chat

Dome Online Psychic: Oh! Then what do you want to talk about ja? Lawyer Kan: [picture of Peach and Home asleep in bed together] Dome Online Psychic: Didn’t you say not to use the same old evidence ja? Lawyer Kan: My friend is curious ka Lawyer Kan: Whether these two are dating ka Pangx2🍞: Not just me ka Suradech Ketmuangrong: Krap Dome Online Psychic: Hmm Dome Online Psychic: Where should I start? Lawyer Kan: You can just jump straight to the answer ka Dome Online Psychic: Well it’s like this…

15:13 peach93 & go HOME!

go HOME!: [picture of Home posing for the camera wearing a designer backpack] peach93: What do you want? go HOME!: I just thought you might like to see it peach93: You did not peach93: Are you going to ask if you should post it? go HOME!: Should I post it? peach93: Learn to think for yourself sometimes go HOME!: [gif of Adam Sandler giving the camera a thumbs down, captioned “LAME”] go HOME!: [screenshot of the above picture now posted to Instagram with the caption “Once upon a time.” The picture has 1.3K likes and was posted 1 minute ago.] peach93: I bet if you post it, you will get a thousand likes immediately na go HOME!: I already posted it peach93: I was being sarcastic go HOME!: oh go HOME!: what’s your problem? go HOME!: if you didn’t want me to post it you could have just said so peach93: Would it have stopped you? go HOME!: fine go HOME!: i’ll delete it peach93: Why? peach93: It’s already out there peach93: People are reposting it on Twitter go HOME!: dude go HOME!: it’s called X now you know? peach93: Not funny go HOME!: so what do you want me to do? peach93: Forget it go HOME!: [gif of blinking man] go HOME!: i’m sorry na go HOME!: but when you post a picture go HOME!: you tag everyone go HOME!: except me peach93: I tag you go HOME!: hidden tags are not tags peach93: You’re talking nonsense peach93: You need to learn to think peach93: Why might I hide the tag? go HOME!: i don’t like to think! go HOME!: if there’s something you want to say just say it peach93: 😩 go HOME!: fine go HOME!: i’m dumb go HOME!: i have no idea what you’re talking about go HOME!: i never do go HOME!: that’s why i always have to ask you directly peach93: For me, you are more special than anyone else peach93: Do you understand now? go HOME!: more special than anyone else go HOME!: are you making fun of me? peach93: Ughhhhhhhhhhhh go HOME!: then what do you want? peach93: 😩😩😩 go HOME!: tell me!!!! peach93: Go tag me in that picture go HOME!: tag you? go HOME!: what for??? peach93: Are you going to tag me or not? go HOME!: fine fine fine go HOME!: [Screenshot of the same Instagram post with “peach93” now tagged right in the middle. The picture was posted 4 minutes ago and now has 2.7K likes.] go HOME!: happy now? peach93: I’m going to call you. Answer the phone peach93: [phone call with Home lasting 00:04:13] peach93: 🙂 go HOME!: [gif of a confused man captioned “THAT’S IT?”] go HOME!: next time you have something to say, just say it directly peach93: You still don’t understand go HOME!: 😿😿😿 go HOME!: be patient with me go HOME!: okay? peach93: Fine go HOME!: [Screenshot from Home’s Instagram of a picture of him shirtless sitting on the side of the pool. It has 13K likes and was posted 3 months ago.] peach93: Don’t post that one! go HOME!: It was posted a long time ago!!!

16:17 pangx2🍞, Lawyer Kan, Suradech Ketmuangrong, & Dome Online Psychic

Dome Online Psychic: [phone call lasting 01:04:13] pangx2🍞: Oh my godddddddddd Lawyer Kan: Thank you for the information na ka, Uncle Dome Dome Online Psychic: Keep an open mind, kids! pangx2🍞: So do we have to pretend like we don’t know ka? Dome Online Psychic: I can’t give you much advice Dome Online Psychic: action = reaction Dome Online Psychic: Bad luck can only be stopped by not dwelling on it Lawyer Kan: But you’re sure your predictions are correct ka? Dome Online Psychic: My predictions are only estimates Lawyer Kan: I’m starting to doubt everything you’ve told us ka Dome Online Psychic: If there’s nothing else, I will be leaving now na ja

Dome Online Psychic left chat

pangx2🍞: Mae pangx2🍞: i think he overcharged you Lawyer Kan: Yes ka Lawyer Kan: This is clearly a scam. He is a fraud. Lawyer Kan: Where did he go? pangx2🍞: We should take everything he said with a grain of salt, Mae pangx2🍞: But at least we have more evidence now pangx2🍞: [gif of mischievous racoon rubbing his hands together captioned “Hehehehe….”] Suradech Ketmuangrong: Krup

7 hours later 23:57 Vimarnsukman Ghost-Hunting Co.

pangx2🍞: [A collection of 4 pictures from the Secret Santa event.] [Translator’s note: They’re BTS pictures from the filming of Peaceful Property. Dome’s in one of them.] go HOME!: [gif of a tired baby raising his arms captioned “YAY”] pangx2🍞: So funnnnnnn pangx2🍞: except no one had time to dress according to the theme pangx2🍞: let’s do it again next year p’homeeeee 💖💖💖 go HOME!: sure thing girl! Lawyer Kan: I just got home na ka Lawyer Kan: Today was fun ka. Thank you na ka peach93: Are you sure it was fun? peach93: Ai’Home ate the cake all by himself and didn’t share with anyone pangx2🍞: 555555555555 go HOME!: [gif of man looking around as if to say “Me?”] go HOME!: who ate the cake and didn’t share it with anyone? pangx2🍞: 👀👀👀 Lawyer Kan: You’re a growing boy ka. I understand ka. Lawyer Kan: Merry Christmas, everyone ka pangx2🍞: merry christmas jaaaaaa peach93: 🥳 🥳 🥳 go HOME!: [gif of dancing Santa Claus captioned “MERRY CHRISTMAS”]

pangx2🍞, Lawyer Kan, & Suradech Ketmuangrong pangx2🍞: Mae!!! Lawyer Kan: What is it now ka? pangx2🍞: Did you see the way they were looking at each other? pangx2🍞: I only have one word: loveeeeeeeeeee Lawyer Kan: Khun Pang ka Lawyer Kan: Stop rambling ka Lawyer Kan: I think they were acting normal Lawyer Kan: It’s normal for boys to flirt with each other Lawyer Kan: And argue like a married couple Lawyer Kan: And stare into each other’s eyes Lawyer Kan: It’s normal ka pangx2🍞: Normal pangx2🍞: When is that normal? pangx2🍞: since p’home came into my brother’s life pangx2🍞: he smiles more often pangx2🍞: #crying 😭😭😭 Lawyer Kan: Just let them be themselves ka pangx2🍞: but i think they really like each other pangx2🍞: it’s just that neither of them will make the first move pangx2🍞: right, p’suradech? Suradech Ketmuangrong: Krup pangx2🍞: you’re no fun pangx2🍞: i’m going to chat with my other friends Lawyer Kan: Congratulations on having more than four friends na ka

3 hours later Wed, 25/12 03:13 Vimarnsukman Ghost-Hunting Co.

Suradech Ketmuangrong: Everyone krap Suradech Ketmuangrong: Khun Noo has something he would like to tell everyone krap Suradech Ketmuangrong: Only he doesn’t want to disturb everyone’s sleep Suradech Ketmuangrong: So I am typing this message for you to read later per his orders krap Suradech Ketmuangrong: [picture of Home in a hospital bed] Suradech Ketmuangrong: Khun Noo is very sick Suradech Ketmuangrong: He had been admitted to the hospital krap

To be continued

Chapter 3

#it's getting gayer 👀#peaceful property #peaceful property fic #written by the director #translated by me #peachhome

81 notes · View notes

acescorazon · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter: 21

Title: Glue.

Rating: M

Warnings: Minor violence/blood. Language.

Word Count: 4424

Chapter excerpt:

Instead of being able to pull Crocodile up like he wants to, Buggy loses his balance completely and finds himself tumbling over the railing as well. Of course something like this happened, why would luck or even gravity ever be on his side? Buggy’s eyes widen as he and Crocodile exchange panicked gazes, and they begin to fall together. In hindsight, maybe Buggy should have made sure he could actually keep both of them safe before rushing to Crocodile’s aid… But It’s too late now.

He falls. No, they fall off the side of the ship a moment later. The poor fools never stood a chance now that Buggy thinks about it. The shocking thing isn’t that they’ve fallen overboard, though. No, the shocking thing is that when Buggy falls, Crocodile opens his arms and catches him - not that it does either of them any good. He still wraps a strong pair of arms around Buggy, though, and together they find themselves sinking towards the bottom of the freezing ocean.

||Ch1||Ch2||Ch3|Ch4|Ch5|Ch6|Ch7|Ch8|Ch9|Ch10|Ch11|Ch12||Ch13||Ch14||Ch15||Ch16||Ch17||Ch18||Ch19||Ch 20||

Buggy hurries out of his room, dressed in nothing but his pajamas, and tries to make it out to the main deck without being thrown violently across the boat. It’s no easy task, though. The sea king that is attacking causes the ship to jerk back and forth erratically and occasionally throws it up in the air, making Buggy feel a little sea sick as he struggles to make his way outside. Jeez, why does this have to happen right now?

Things calm down significantly by the time Buggy makes it outside, and he notices three things: One, that Mihawk has his sword already drawn. Two, that there’s a giant tentacle now lying across the main deck. Three, that things are strangely quiet. Is… Is it over already? He wonders as he tries to gather his bearings.

No, it can’t be over. His men still seem on edge and they’re searching the water for something as Crocodile and Mihawk stand off to the side, conversing with one another. The wind blows, carrying the scent of rain and the stench of blood through the air as Buggy cautiously approaches his fellow members of Cross Guild. He’s still feeling a little woozy from his journey from his room to the front deck, but he tries to hide that fact and appear cool, calm, and collected instead.

“How long will it take for you to kill that thing?” Crocodile asks Mihawk. His voice is tense, and he’s definitely irritated by this whole ordeal but there’s a hint of exhaustion hidden behind his frustration as well. It’s clear that the last thing he wants to deal with right now is a sea king of all things, but who would want to face a sea king in general let alone at this time of night?

“Longer than I'd like.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Uh-Oh, that doesn’t sound too good. Buggy can roughly piece together what’s going on already, but he decides to ask Crocodile and Mihawk to fill him in just in case he’s wrong. “What the hell happened?” He asks as he tries to assess the situation further and does a quick scan of the ship, looking for any noticeable damage. The ship doesn’t look like it’s taken on any damage at all, or maybe it has and Buggy just hasn’t noticed it yet, he’s not really sure.

Crocodile is quick to reply in his usual cold tone, “We ran into a damn sea king.” He grumbles, running a hand through his damp hair, “ A squid or something, I don’t know. The fucker went back underwater and now we can’t find it.” He tells Buggy. Man, Buggy was afraid Crocodile would say something like that. “Call your men back.” Crocodile suddenly orders, “Tell them to get inside and hold onto anything they can in case that thing resurfaces and attacks again while I try and steer us away from it. If Hawkeye can’t kill it for whatever reason or I can’t get us away and we take on too much damage, be prepared to abandon ship.”

Buggy raises an eyebrow, “Seriously?” he asks. To say that he’s surprised that Crocodile is willing to just abandon ship, as well as all plans to go to Prickly Pear island, is an understatement. Isn’t it more like him to want to stay and fight, and maybe even go down with the ship and his plans instead?

“They’re more of a liability out in the open like this than any help. Let Hawkeye handle the sea king by himself, unless you want to risk having one of your men grabbed and pulled into the water with that thing.”

That’s yet another statement from Crocodile that has Buggy momentarily scratching his head. If he didn’t know better, he would say that Crocodile was actually showing genuine concern for Buggy’s crew right now, but that doesn’t sound right. Maybe he doesn’t care, and he’s just instructing Buggy to get the men out of the way for selfish reasons, like… Like… Well, to be honest, Buggy doesn’t have a theory on why Crocodile is suddenly showing concern for the rest of the crew, but something doesn’t feel right about his actions.

In any case, Crocodile does have a point, and it’s kind of annoying. Buggy should have already ordered his men to fall back by now. It’s dark and stormy, and even with all their lights on, it’s still hard to see. Crocodile is right, it is a dangerous for the rest of the crew to be out in the open like this, where they can just be grabbed and pulled underwater by a lurking sea king. They’re also just wasting supplies by trying to shoot at a sea beast that can disappear and resurface whenever it chooses to. The fact that Crocodile is right about something still annoys Buggy to no end for some reason, though.

Buggy should be doing anything in his power to protect his crew and his ship, he is the captain after all, but he didn’t have an instant game plan. Hell, he didn’t even think something like this would happen to them. So, to say he’s unprepared would be an understatement. Stupid Crocodile, always making me look bad… he thinks as he begins to give orders to his men, instructing them to begin tying things down and to hold on to something sturdy in case the Sea King pops up again and attacks their ship. He also gives them clear instructions to keep a look out and wait for any signals that indicate they should start getting the lifeboats ready and evacuate the ship as fast as possible.

Once the crew hesitantly retreat as instructed, Crocodile speaks up, “You should go back inside too.” Huh?! What the hell does he mean Buggy should go back inside too? Buggy’s the captain of the damn ship, why would he wait inside with the rest of his men?

Buggy’s brow furrows in confusion, “Why would I go back inside?” He asks. Now, honestly, the last thing he wants to do is fight a giant squid of all things, but something doesn’t seem right about this scene. Mihawk, Buggy, and Crocodile are the three most capable fighters on their team, aren’t they? Shouldn’t they be putting their differences aside for once so that they can take down that sea king? Or does Crocodile still see Buggy as some weakling who can’t do anything right?

“Look, it’s not safe for any of us to be out in the open with this thing around.” Crocodile replies, “If it doesn’t grab us and pull us into the ocean with it, then it might capsize the ship. I’m sure you can figure out why that situation isn’t ideal for any of us, but especially not you and me.”

“Yeah, but…”

“I’ll stay out and man the helm and try to steer us away from that damn squid while Hawkeye stands on guard. You keep the crew calm and get ready to abandon the ship if we need to. I’m not sure what we’ll do after that, but we’ll figure something out.”

“You’re actually considering retreating?” Buggy asks, “Like, for real?”

“If the situation were any different, I probably wouldn’t even consider it, but I’ll be damned if I lose my life to a giant piece of calamari.”

Buggy agrees, but for some strange reason he’s hesitant to listen to Crocodile’s orders. While he’d usually choose the coward’s way out and be happy that he wouldn’t have to fight a sea king of all things, his pride picks perhaps the most inopportune chance to resurface. He’s the captain, he should be the one giving out orders, not Crocodile. “Why don’t I man the helm instead?” He suggests. The mere suggestion causes Crocodile to give him a strange look.

“You talked about liabilities…” Buggy adds, “Aren’t you pretty much a liability yourself once you’ve come in contact with water?” He asks before he gestures up to dark skies where the rain continues to fall, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I heard that you can’t change your form when you’re wet. Is that true? Can you even use your powers right now?” He asks, and his question only serves to further annoy Crocodile, who begins to clench his jaw and laugh coldly in response to Buggy’s question.

Crocodile clicks his tongue, “It doesn’t matter what I can or can’t do,” He replies. That sounds like a rather weak excuse in Buggy’s book. In fact, it sounds like Buggy was more or less right about Crocodile being a liability, which isn’t a word one would generally use to describe Sir Crocodile of all people. “I can handle myself just fine despite the rain. Get back inside and wait for further instructions.”

What? No, why?!

Buggy bites the inside of his cheek, “Maybe you should be the one to go inside and provide the men with some much-needed moral support. I’ll man the helm. At the very least, if the sea king tries to attack me, I’ll still be able to use my devil fruit powers to defend myself. Well, unless I’m thrown into the water.”

“Look, I already told you that I can defend myself just fine even though it’s raining.” Can he, though? Buggy is starting to have his own doubts, and he doesn’t want to find out whether Crocodile’s statement is true at this very moment. He’d rather be safe than sorry, especially when everyone’s lives are at risk here.

As the two begin to bicker, Mihawk gives them both a rather disinterested look before he heads to the front of the ship. He looks down, staring into the water with an intent gaze, watching and waiting for the Sea King to resurface, should it still be on the prowl. He doesn’t seem very interested in playing peacemaker at the moment, and who could blame him? There are bigger things to worry about right now. However, that doesn’t stop Crocodile and Buggy from being childish and continuing their argument anyways.

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Buggy tells Crocodile, who’s becoming more and more irritated by the moment now that his authority and capabilities are being questioned. Funnily enough, the same thing is happening to Buggy. “You can sit this one out. I’ll man the helm and if I’m unable to get us to safety, then you can gather up the men and abandon ship. I’ll follow suit, of course, and so will Hawkeye. Why are you arguing with me when we’re in the middle of being attacked?” Buggy asks.

Jeez, what a stubborn guy. Can’t he put his pride aside for two seconds and just listen to Buggy?!

“Look. I told y–” Crocodile begins to argue back, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. The Sea king finally resurfaces, causing a giant wave to send the ship up in the air and for Crocodile to lose his footing.

Buggy’s eyes widen as he sees Crocodile begin to fall, and without thinking, he tries to grab him. “Shit,” He cusses as his fingertips just barely graze the surface of Crocodile’s plush coat but fail to latch on. He feels an odd sense of panic as he can do nothing but watch as Crocodile falls awkwardly on his left shoulder with a loud thud and begins to skid towards the side of the ship.

Shit, that looked like it hurt, Buggy thinks as his feet move on their own accord, carrying him over towards Crocodile, who groans as he slowly tries to get back up to his feet. “Hey, are you o–”

Buggy never gets to finish his question.

Everything happens so fast: one minute Buggy’s trying to check on Crocodile, who’s clinging onto the ship’s metal railing for dear life, and the next minute, another large tentacle plunges towards the sea as Mihawk begins to cut the sea king down. The act causes the ship to become unsteady and tilt sideways for a moment, and Buggy begins to worry about the possibility of the ship capsizing for real as he begins to lose his own balance. Shit. Fuck, fuck, is all Buggy can think as he manages to steady himself just in time to see Crocodile begin to fall over the ship’s railing.

God, why did all this have to happen now? Why couldn’t it have happened on a sunny afternoon and not in the middle of a rainy night? Buggy surges into action and almost goes sliding again as he rushes over to the side of the ship and reaches down to grab onto any part of Crocodile that he can before he can fall into the water. In this case, he manages to grab onto his bicep but just barely. Crocodile’s heavy and Buggy struggles to maintain his grip on him as the ship continues to jerk around, but Buggy refuses to let go.

Crocodile stares up at him with wide eyes. It’s as if he doesn’t expect Buggy to be the one rushing to his aid. They had just been fighting a moment ago, hadn’t they? That’s the thing, though, Buggy doesn’t care about their fight five seconds ago or five weeks ago in that very moment. He uses all his strength to pull back and tries his damnest to get Crocodile back over the ship railing, but before he can, another wave crashes into the side of the ship as yet another one of the squid’s tentacles comes flying down to earth courtesy of the World’s strongest swordsman.

Buggy inadvertently gasps and breathes in the surrounding water the moment he plunges into the ocean with Crocodile. It’s a very unfortunate and painful move on his part, and his chest begins to burn as cold salt water floods in from his nose and mouth and begins filling his lungs. Again, if he had better foresight, maybe he would have tried to hold his breath before falling into the ocean, but everything happened so fast.

This is it, huh?

To say Buggy is a little bitter at this moment would be an understatement. There are so many things that he’s failed to do in his life because this thing or that thing prevented him from doing so, and it’s beyond frustrating. Buggy shouldn’t be spending his dying moments with Crocodile of all people. He shouldn’t even be dying in the first place! He should… He should still be with best friend, laughing and smiling and conquering the world with him… God damn it, this isn’t how things are supposed to be.

In his dying moments, he somehow misses and hates Shanks with all his heart. How come he never once tried to get Buggy back? Why is he going after the one piece now and without Buggy? How did Buggy even end up out at sea with Cross Guild and not Shanks in the first place? It just doesn’t make sense. It’s never made any sense to Buggy. This isn’t the life he imagined himself living by any means. All he’s ever wanted was to… Was to…

Fuck it all.

Buggy comes to the realization that perhaps he was miserable for entirely too long. In the face of death, everything Crocodile and Mihawk have done to him, and everything little slip up that they’ve faced as the organization known as Cross Guild feels so trivial and insignificant. He’s still hurt by their words and actions, but he wishes he had tougher skin and that his days weren’t spent in a seemingly endless depressive cycle. He wishes he could have just pulled himself together and lived life happily. He wishes that everything about these last twenty years or so of his life were different.

Why does it have to end this way? What did he ever do to deserve such a fate? What did he ever do to deserve such a life, actually? This is the worst, he’s never felt so bitter, so disappointed, so…so, scared, in his life.

Buggy’s going to die and there’s no one here to save him. He hates this miserable, bitter feeling, this hopeless feeling in the pit of his chest. He yet again finds himself bitter at the fact that he can no longer swim. He used to love swimming, he used to love the water, and now the same water he used to love will be his grave. He hates this all so much, what did he ever do to deserve such a shitty life?!

Crocodile’s arms stay around Buggy for another moment, a good moment longer than they probably should have, actually, before exhaustion probably hits him and he releases Buggy. Buggy’s feeling the same effects as he continues to sink deeper into the dark abyss. He’s cold, tired, and he feels like he has rocks tied down to his ankles as he sinks further and further. The light coming from the ship above becomes harder to see the further he sinks, and in that cold, dark, scary moment he wishes someone would just come and save him. No … them. Despite everything that’s happened between him and Crocodile, he doesn’t think Crocodile deserves this fate. Neither of them do, if you ask him. Drowning is such an awful way to die, especially when you know there’s nothing you can do as a devil fruit user but hope someone will help you or reside to your fate. These are the consequences of seeking out this type of power, isn’t it?

(Buggy never wanted these powers of his, though.)

Buggy gives up on the hope of being rescued as his flagship, Mihawk, and even the sea king disappear from his line of sight, and he closes his eyes. A sense of self-preservation would be nice right now, but it wouldn’t help matters. He still can’t swim. So, he simply closes his eyes and waits for the eventual end. He’s unsure where Crocodile is, but he can’t be that far, can he? He tries to open his eyes and look, but the seawater stings them, so in the end he gives up on that too.

This is just my luck… He thinks for the umpteenth time. This really isn’t the way he wanted to go, but then again, how many people can say they had the privilege of choosing the way they met their makers? Still, he just wishes that…

Oh, never mind. He’s done for, and his hopes and dreams don’t mean a thing anymore.

It’s funny, though, no less than two seconds after he has that thought, he feels arms around his waist again; they’re strong and firm as they pull him upwards and towards the surface. He tries to open his eyes again, thinking Crocodile has him, despite knowing that something like that just isn’t possible given the situation. His eyes burn and his vision is hindered by the dark environment, but he can just barely make out sharp facial features above him as well as a pair of golden eyes. It’s then that he finally realizes who has him. Oh, thank god, he thinks, actually relieved to see that Mihawk has come to his aid.

Buggy’s never been this happy to see Mihawk in his life. He almost can’t believe it. He rescued him, he really rescued him. Mihawk’s done so much for the ship just tonight alone, and Buggy just feels so… Grateful? He feels grateful and maybe even a weird sense of admiration after seeing just how capable Mihawk really is. This man, despite his cold personality and general aloofness, has been the glue that’s holding everything together. He’s the one who’s been trying to get everyone to get along, he’s the one who’s been trying to make sure everything runs smoothly from the sidelines, and he’s the one who’s been trying to protect Buggy for a while now. The horrible thing is that Buggy’s just now realizing all this - he’s come to realize a lot of things today, and thinks it’s rather unfortunate that he’s been blind for so long.

A moment or so later, they reach the surface, and Mihawk scolds Buggy as soon as they do. “Good Lord, I can’t take my eyes off of you for two seconds,” He complains as some of Buggy’s men toss two life preservers into the water and help them back onto the ship - they must have come back out after noticing Crocodile and Buggy went overboard or after receiving orders from Hawkeye. Either way, Buggy is so grateful at that moment.

Buggy coughs violently as he spits up the water that he’s inhaled. He wants to reply, or better yet, tell Mihawk that Crocodile is still in the water, but he doesn’t have to. As soon as Buggy is on the ship with his men gathered around him, Mihawk jumps back into the water, presumably to go get Crocodile.

Buggy continues to cough but waits on the deck and right in front of the railing despite the fact that his men are urging him to come inside right now and get warm before he gets sick or dies from a very preventable death from hypothermia. He can’t move for some reason. His men are tugging on him and trying to pull him backwards and somewhere warmer, but Buggy stays frozen, with his eyes locked on the exact spot where Mihawk jumped over the ship railing less than a few moments ago.

“Captain Buggy, come on, we need to get you warm and checked out,” One of Buggy’s men tells him as he begins tugging on his forearm. No, Buggy doesn’t care how cold he is or how much his chest is still hurting at that moment, he refuses to move until… until he’s sure they’re okay…

Come on, hurry up… He finds himself thinking as a weird sense of dread washes over him. Mihawk seems like a strong swimmer, sure, but even he has to have his limits, right? Maybe he was a little foolish to jump back into the water to rescue Crocodile. Yet, as Buggy looks around at his men, he realizes that Mihawk was the only one who might be able to save Crocodile. His men can swim, but there’s a difference between being an okay swimmer and a strong swimmer, Buggy would know.

Fuck, hurry up and come up already…

Several tense moments go by, and those are some of the worst few moments of Buggy’s life. He can’t recall how long it’s been since he was worried sick like that. He starts to feel like the worst has happened and that Mihawk drowned while trying to save Crocodile, and strangely enough, that thought makes his heart hurt more. Stupid, idiot, dumbass, Buggy thinks as he is about to give up all hope. He doesn’t know how to process all of his emotions at that moment. Should he be sad? Should he feel relieved? Should he be jumping up and down and saying ‘good riddance!’ at the top of his lungs?! He doesn’t know, but before he gets a chance to straighten out his emotions, at long last, he sees two heads surface from the dark sea.

Mihawk gasps as he makes it to the surface with Crocodile and almost instantly, Buggy’s men all gather around to help get him and Crocodile out of the water. The two are coughing up water violently but other than that, they seem relatively fine, incredibly. The fact that Crocodile is still even conscious is remarkable in it’s own right, if you ask Buggy. It felt like he was waiting for the other two to surface for hours, but he isn’t sure just how long it actually was.

Buggy doesn’t know what to even do at this moment as he stares at his fellow members of Cross Guild. One thing is for certain, though, he doesn’t think he’s ever been more relieved to see Crocodile and Mihawk before in his entire life. He sinks to his knees and exhales a sigh of relief, feeling strangely…grateful yet again. That was so awful, he doesn’t think he ever wants to go through something like that ever again.

The stench of blood is still prominent in the air, and so is a strong sense of unease. Buggy finally takes in his surroundings and finds a second tentacle hanging halfway off the ship, as well as what remains of the sea king floating in the water. It lies cut in half, surrounded by a pool of blood, no longer a threat to anyone. God, Mihawk really is incredible. He killed a sea king on his own, and then still somehow managed to save Buggy and Crocodile before they drowned. Buggy glances over at Mihawk, who is now up and trying to drag a coughing Crocodile into the ship to get checked out, and has a strange moment where he feels inexplicably fond of Mihawk.

Dear God, Buggy has so many emotions going through him, and he doesn’t know what to make of any of them, but maybe that’s only natural given all he’s been through with Crocodile and Mihawk. He slowly gets to his feet, still coughing slightly as his men begin to gather around him once again to check on him. He pays them no mind, though, he’s much too focused on other things right now. Buggy doesn’t say it out loud, but all he can think is one sentence as he begins following behind Mihawk and Crocodile: Thank you for everything, Hawkeye…

A/N: Happy late new years! And remember not to logic ruin a good story or else i'll come for your knees. (all jokes) Also if someone notices anything off with this chapter please let me know, i tried to get like three people to proof read this chapter bc i wasn't sure about my action scene but that didn't happen so.... fuck it we ball ig. Just want to know before i post it on AO3. LOVE YALL LOTS!

#changes #cross guild #my writing #dont @ me when it comes to my scenes relating near death experiences hahsdkjaskdjas #It's all coming together boys (gender neutral)

40 notes · View notes

codename-adler · 9 months ago

Text

WIP Game

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs

Thank you for tagging me @vykio , @merceyca & @you-know-i-get-itt💕💕💕

Get ready for an absolutely monstrous shitload of wips. So sorry. This is inexcusable.

Steady Now

jerejean potato for SN

aftg x tlou

Baby Girl, Good Luck + BGGL Scraps

Start of Time

dtyfstdf Ch. 21 - KA Swimming/Shower

295

So This Is Christmas

Andrew's Farewell

The Language of Boys

On the Nature of Day(light)

Speak AU

Never Goodbye

Kathea 🌺

drive-by shooting kevaaron

x mafia husbands x

aftg television soundtrack project

no pressure tag:

@constelationprize @joanofexys @minyard-05

@detectivebambam @cielalune

@jeanmoreaue @jeanmoroses

@sapphoherselz @ninyard

@kevindavidday @kevinsdsy

& all who wish to share their passion!! if you don't have fic wips, it can be future posts you plan or want to write, a playlist you want to make, drawings, anything!

#tag game #wip game #my wips #adler's wips #aftg wips #aftg ask #aftg fic #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #the sunshine court

29 notes · View notes

kaikaidenkai · 4 months ago

Text

Stupid decisions get you in stupid situations. CH.1|| Truck-kun makes an appearance!

Stupid decisions get you in stupid situations… or in which [Name] gets themself in a stupid situation, getting hit by Truck-kun which was their own fault. They transported themself into the world of their favorite anime they’ve just finished watching the last episode on, Bungo Stray Dogs.

italics= thoughts

italics with “ around it =spoken in japanese

BSD X G/N READER

—————————————————————————

[Name] listened to music on FULL BLAST through their wireless earbuds as they walked down the bustling sidewalks of LA at night. A stupid decision indeed as they wouldn’t be able to predict the tragedy that would happen next partly because she was blasting music in her ears at full volume.

“Hey, watch out!!”

Someone yelled at [Name] through the crowds.

Though, [Name] wasn’t able to hear their warning until it was too late.

The stranger yelled again, and [Name] went to take out their earbuds.

As they took them out, everyone had a shocked and distressed expression before a truck slammed into them at full force. Apparently.. a truck got out of control and began driving around without a driver.

To make it worse, no one got hit except [Name] who died on impact against a wall, their body splitting in half.

RINGGGGGGGGG….

{Name’s POV}

I heard an annoying, high pitched, long lasting ringing in my ears before it all turned black.

Seriously..? I’ll never be able to finish the BSD manga now, I mean.. I mean I never said goodbye to my friends!

…

What friends again..? Okay, well… anyway, this was kind of peaceful. The beautiful darkness surrounded me, and the idea of death was beautiful too!.. Ha.. Ha……I .. think i’m going insane.

…

”Are..Are they dead?”

……

Huh..? Who… where…

Everything was blurry and even the person who was looming over me words were blurry.. blurry words..? What am I—

COOOURGGHHHH CAOUGGGH!

I let out two vile, crunchy coughs.

“Jesus.”

“Oh, they’re awake!”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

What.. Wait..

I rubbed my eyes to find a white headed boy in front of me with a haircut that splits horribly like how the truck split my body.

Atsushi?.. ATSUSHI FROM BUNGO STRAY DOGS?!

“Hello? What’s your— What’s your name?”

He spoke in Japanese which I in-fact, did not understand. And.. And… Uhh… Ah.. I’m screwed, aren’t I?

“I.. uh.. English?”

”What..? Oh! English, English..”

Atsushi spoke in Japanese, then a semi-transparent blue screen popped up in front of me.

·················•·················

Hi hi~!! Ready to begin YOUR ADVENTURE in the world of Bungo Stray Dogs? If not.. too bad! You made a stupid decision and you’re starting it anyway regardless of your answer :3!!!! Ah.. Now let’s get you started. You have 10 Skill points to spend on from your starter pack! Which is..

• ¥1,000,000 Which is enough to last you at least 6 months!

•Basic apartment •Japanese Passport/Citizenship

• 10 Skill points

Let me explain the skill points!

You have many different skills you can improve on with skill points which are given to you by progressing in the main story or purchased with Yen. You also can improve on them by completing a side quest given to you to improve on that specific skill. Now.. choose on what you want to improve on. •Japanese Speaking Skills 0/30

•Japanese Writing Skills 0/30

•Stamina 17/30

•Endurance 23/30

•Strength 11/30

•Speed 18/30

•Intelligence ERROR/30

•Looks 21/30 (NOT ABLE TO IMPROVE)

•Ability Cooldown {LOCKED}

•Ability Damage {LOCKED}

•Ability Duration {LOCKED}

Oh.. don’t mind the error and locked… Also.. Your ability is— I’m not allowed to say until you find out yourself, good luck, [Name]!

ABILITY: N/A

·················•·················

Erm… Well alright.. I guess half will go into speaking Japanese and half into writing.

·················•·················

↑Japanese Speaking skills has been improved↑

↑5/30↑

↑Japanese Writing Skills has been improved↑

↑5/30↑

·················•·················

”Uh.. Your.. Your name?”

He said in English unsurely after the long silence there was.

”[Name], my name is [Name]”

I somehow responded back in Japanese.

Then.. a black haired man spoke up who was sitting on a desk. We were in.. The ADA?! Holy shit, I just realized that… Atsushi was kneeling in front of me as I was seated on the floor and the black haired man— or Ranpo was sitting on a desk. The other ADA members were also staring as they cleaned the office. Off topic but anyways..

“Who are you, and how did you get here?”

Masterlist

#bsd #ranpo edogawa #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd ranpo #bsd atsushi #isekai #truck kun #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs

16 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

feafuin · 3 months ago

Text

PROBABLY BARELY UNDERSTANDABLE CROCHET LAIN HAT TUTORIAL

the hardest part for me was the top of the hat because i've never done crochet flat circle tapestry before. but i found similar pattern for it. i edited this so it looks like lain's hat. that's basically what i followed.

so i didn't find any lain hat tut online (or i probably looked bad for it) so i tried to make it all on my own.

for this project i used fine weight wool + acrylic yarn and 3,5 mm hook. the hat itself was done in half-double crochet stitch but i think it will also look good with light weight yarn and single crochet.

i don't really think that this tut is beginner friendly, sorry :(

i made a video on how to do strands on top of the head (idk how to call these long thingies), i hope it's understandable:

so blue strips are the increases. the main problem with this pattern may be that the star might look swirly.

so i suggest to watch this (the end of the video) and also this tuts to look how to do it right (these are all about that original pattern but i think you can understand how to adjust it for your lain hat), i'm bad at explaining, really :(

crochet the circle until it's the size of your head (diameter of top of the hat = head circumference/π). then crochet it without increases until it's comfy for you to wear.

or you can do a pompom, it will look cute too.

to the bear. first do a mc, sc and crochet until it's the size you want it to be. then the ears. i made a video but tumblr said i can't add more than one :( basically you insert the hook, do a sl st, then hdc, 2 dc in next stitch, hdc again, then you do 4-5 sl st and repeat for the second ear. do a circle smaller than the first one: it will be its muzzle. embroider a nose. sew head and muzzle together. do french knots for eyes. sew it on your hat.

mark where your earflaps should be, the width of earflaps is 19 stitches. the pattern for them:

then in the end of the earflap do strings: ch 21 and then sl st.

good luck!

weave in all the ends and you're done! you can block it if you want to.

it took me about 6 hours to crochet this but you could probably do it faster than me, lol.

here's the hat after blocking (almost nothing changed, haha)

PS it also will be cool if you show me your lain hats if you'll actually crochet it, just tag me!

#serial experiments lain #lain #crochet #crochet pattern #i REALLY hope you can understand it #i tried really hard #ed: i forgot to write about mc in the bear part #edit: added pic of hat on myself #edit: earflaps pattern was kinda wrong not critical but wrong

23 notes · View notes

rosanna-writer · 11 months ago

Text

we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (22/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~3.6k

ch. 1 - 10 | ch. 11-20 | ch. 21 - i wouldn't marry me either | ch. 22 - burn all the files, desert all your past lives

This fic turns one year old today!!! Thank you to everyone who's been reading, commenting, and kudos-ing; it's been wonderful to have you along for the ride <3

Some text in this chapter is lifted directly from both A Court of Thorns and Roses and A Court of Mist and Fury.

Read on AO3 or you can find the twenty-second chapter below the readmore.

Rhys wasn't back by the time I woke up the next morning. I'd expected it; we'd spoken through the bond throughout the long night handling the aftermath of the attack on Sangravah, and by the time I'd been unable to keep my eyes open, he'd still been working. I knew Rhys—if he'd slept at all, it had been in his office in the House of Wind, when he'd been too drained of energy to fly home.

The townhouse felt too empty.

It wasn't cold, but like a sentimental fool, I slipped on the dressing gown he'd left on the chair in my room the other day. The fabric was midnight-blue and the size far too big for me—the silver-embroidered cuffs extended several inches past my fingertips.

I padded downstairs, only to be hit by the smell of something baking. Bread, perhaps. And…cheese? Definitely not Rhys.

I crept towards the kitchen. Perhaps I should have been more worried about an intruder, but I trusted that Rhys's wards still kept out anyone who wasn't allowed inside. It was probably Cassian here with food.

Around the corner, I spotted a dark-haired female with her back to me—the first time I'd ever seen her fully corporeal. Nuala.

Cauldron boil me, the last time we'd seen each other, she'd been painting Illyrian markings for luck and glory all over my naked body. I had no idea what to say to her.

But before I could run back upstairs, she turned at the sound of my footsteps. I froze.

She smiled and said warmly, "You look well."

I caught the flicker of recognition in her eyes at the sight of me in a dressing gown that obviously belonged to the High Lord. If it had been someone else, the words might have sounded sarcastic or suggestive. But she really did sound pleased to see me.

My cheeks heated anyway, which was utterly ridiculous. The bond might have been a secret, but it wasn't as if Rhys and I made much of an effort to keep our hands off each other in public—his tongue had been down my throat on the banks of the Sidra more than once already. And yet I still felt…caught out.

"It's good to see you," I said after several moments of painful silence.

Nuala nodded towards a plate of chive-and-cheese scones that I hadn't noticed were sitting out on the table. "Those are still warm, if you're hungry."

Awkwardness aside, I still didn't have it in me to pass up food, so I sat and nibbled on a scone. It was warm, soft, and buttery—I was tempted to scarf it down like an animal but managed not to.

And it was a relief to have something to with my hands and a reason not to say anything. The oven was still on, and Nuala went back to stirring something in a bowl on the counter.

"My sister is gathering intelligence on the soldiers that attacked last night," she said, answering a question I hadn't known how to ask.

Azriel had said the twins were spending time with family after their return from Under the Mountain, and I'd assumed that meant they weren't working. I couldn't imagine what they'd endured during the last fifty years—I barely felt functional after only a few weeks in Amarantha's court. My appetite vanished.

"You don't have to be here. I can manage on my own." I'd run the household of our family of four with far fewer resources than I had now—it would be no trouble to take care of that for just Rhys and me, especially if it meant Nuala and Cerridwen could recover for the rest of their days if they wished.

Besides, Rhys would do his fair share of the work with far less complaining than Nesta ever had.

Nuala smiled. "Rhysand said the same thing. But after last night, Cerridwen and I both chose not to take his offer to retire from service."

"Why?"

"A court needs well-trained spies and trusted servants to remain secure. We're difficult to find on short notice."

The twins saw the storm clouds gathering on the horizon, too. And even after all they'd survived…they were here. Had chosen to be here.

I'd never forget the blanket they'd left for me in that cold cell, not if I lived a thousand years.

"Thank you. For everything."

She shrugged. "We were caught unawares and trapped there. You're the one who walked in eyes open."

We didn't speak of it again after that. I ate another scone while she baked some sort of egg dish with vegetables and a crust. When she put away the flour, I was relieved she didn't mention the raven I'd painted on the inside of the cabinet door. She must have known it was new and that Rhys certainly hadn't painted it.

When I insisted on washing the dishes before heading upstairs to get dressed, Nuala let me.

I dug the plainest gown out from the back of my closet. Not because I particularly wanted to wear it—I was most comfortable in Illyrian leathers or the silky, billowing pants and sheer sleeves of Night Court attire—but because I didn't want to cause a stir if I could avoid it or appear too faerie.

It was stifling to feel this covered up. I'd grown used to the caress of a breeze against my skin when I wasn't in leathers, and if I needed to run, I hated the thought of having to lift up my skirts to do it. Faeries—at least the ones in the Night Court—never made a fuss about bare legs or an exposed strip of skin around a navel.

I could endure this for a few hours, though. I'd been braiding my hair when Rhys winnowed in, directly onto my bed. He lay on his stomach, his head propped up on a fist and his feet in the air to keep his shoes off the duvet.

As usual, he looked aggravatingly put-together, no sign at all of the long night he'd had. Not a hair out of place, and he'd changed into a fresh tunic and pants.

Something like distaste flickered in his eyes even as he said, "You look beautiful." It was the first time he'd seen me wear a dress, I realized—or at least, the first time he'd seen me wear one of my own volition, if the scraps of fabric I'd worn Under the Mountain even counted.

"I don't," I said, voice flat, "and no one likes a liar, Rhys."

He stood and came closer, flicking my nose instead of kissing me hello. "You'd look beautiful in a potato sack."

"No one likes a cad, either."

He huffed a laugh as I tied off the end of the braid and rose from the chair. In a single absurdly graceful movement, he leaned down to kiss me properly while lifting me into his arms to fly. I let myself melt into the warmth of his solid body against mine, and for a moment, I considered getting the damn dress off and Rhys into bed for the rest of the day.

But I couldn't keep putting this off.

I held on tight as we vanished into dark wind and appeared again hundreds of feet over a vast, blue sea. Even though I'd expected it—we'd planned to slip through one of the holes that had formed in the Wall—I let out a shriek and clung tighter to Rhys. The wind roared; water rushed towards us—

Was that a scream from the fearless Cursebreaker? We're not even in free fall. The words seemed to glitter with wicked amusement as they crossed the bond.

Rhys was right, though. His wings strained against the wind but kept our descent controlled, snapping open at just the right angles so we stayed on course. I tipped my head back to take in the particular contented smile he only wore while flying.

It disappeared as we approached the Wall. I couldn't see it, but I felt the crackle of its power setting my teeth on edge all the same. Rhys gripped me tighter.

The feeling got worse as we approached. And as we swept through, there was a horrible moment where I felt ripped in half, as if it wanted to scatter incomplete pieces of me among the mortals and the fae.

But it passed in an instant.

I was back in the human lands. The home I thought I'd never see again.

There was barely time to process that before we were slipping into the space between worlds as Rhys winnowed us to the woods just outside my family's estate.

He'd offered to glamour himself to appear human and accompany me, but I'd said no. Perhaps another time, but…this felt like something I had to do on my own. So I kissed him goodbye and walked towards the manor alone.

The white marble walls and emerald roof were grand, but totally unfamiliar. I passed neat hedges as I walked up the flagstone path, and my heart squeezed at the sight of flowers and shrubs that had been planted there—Elain's doing, no doubt.

At the double doors, I rang the bell and waited, my stomach churning. Azriel's reports had assured me that all was well, but…perhaps it wasn't. Perhaps something had gotten overlooked.

A ruddy-faced housekeeper I didn't recognize opened the door. "May I help you?" she said, blandly polite.

"I'm Feyre Archeron. I'm here to see my family," I said.

Her eyes lit up with recognition at the sound of my name. That was a relief, at least; I wasn't forgotten. "Your father is away on business, but your sisters—"

"Feyre? Is that you?" Elain—Elain. Cheerful and lovely as always, untouched by the monsters and horrors I'd encountered in Prythian. Safe. Just as I'd remembered her.

I nearly sobbed with relief. But as far as she knew, I was merely back from taking care of an elderly relative, so I kept my voice light as I said, "It's me. I'm here while our cousin stays with Aunt Ripleigh to give me a short break."

The housekeeper stepped aside as Elain launched herself at me. I embraced my sister, relieved at how she'd filled out since I'd last seen her. Taken care of and eating right, then. "What a wonderful surprise!" she said.

There were footsteps on the stairs, and I looked over Elain's shoulder to see Nesta standing with a hand braced on the rail.

Staring as if I were a ghost.

I'd forgotten how cunning her eyes were, how cold. There was no reason to believe Nesta knew anything about what I'd been up to for the past few months, yet….she'd always been made of something different. Something harder and stronger.

"What are you doing here?" she said, face carefully blank.

"Visiting. It's…good to see how your fortunes have improved," I said.

Elain's brow furrowed. "I know Nesta's visit didn't work out, but didn't you get our letters?"

She didn’t remember—or maybe she’d never actually known, then, that I wouldn’t have been able to read them, anyway. But it still made my heart sink to imagine my sisters sending letters that were doomed to never reach me. If Nesta had tried to visit, though I doubted she'd actually wanted to see me, some magic must have turned her away.

I shook my head, and Elain ushered me inside, complaining about the uselessness of the post. Nesta continued to stare wordlessly, and I half-listened as Elain recounted the story of the mysterious stranger who'd appeared at their doorstep with a wildly lucrative investment opportunity and given them a trunk of gold just for agreeing.

Tamlin's doing, and it matched the reports that Azriel had given me. I'd expected this. And yet, it still didn't quite prepare me for how strange it would feel for Elain to hook her elbow through mine, apologize for not having a room ready for me, and offer to show me the rest of the house.

The manor was beautiful, if a bit…sterile. Beautiful and richly appointed, but everything was new and untouched, with none of the sense of the age that permeated the townhouse in Velaris. I couldn't help but marvel at it—Nesta and Elain were cared for, with enough money to ensure they'd never be hungry again.

Nesta fell into step beside us, a quiet, stalking presence. Her face was still impassive, and she seemed content to let Elain do all of the talking. But it was better than her flinging insults, so perhaps it was a blessing.

We had tea and sandwiches in the lush garden, which was in full bloom for the summer. After months in Prythian, human food tasted like ash in my mouth, but I didn't care. It had been so long since I'd eaten a meal with my family and had enough for all of us.

Never again would I brace myself for a fight if I dared take more than my carefully allotted quarter after hauling a carcass for miles.

It was simple enough to spin stories about reading to Aunt Ripleigh as she instructed me on deportment from her bedside. None of it was particularly interesting, and instead, I asked about the garden and the social season that I'd missed.

The purple-and-white tulips at our feet had once been bulbs brought all the way from the continent, Elain told me, beaming. She'd tended to them herself, planting and weeding in between the balls and parties and gossip of the social season.

"It sounds like you've been busy without me, then," I said, setting down my teacup carefully.

"It was a welcome respite," Elain said, a shadow darkening her lovely face for a moment. "I'm grateful our situation has changed for the better, but I'll admit this season was a bit…strange."

My blood went cold. Of course this had all been too good to be true. Something was wrong. "In what way?"

"People acted as if we’d all just been ill for eight years, or had gone away to some distant country—not that we’d been a few villages over in that cottage. You’d think we dreamed it all up, what happened to us over those years. No one said a word about it."

I relaxed again. In truth, it was a warmer reception than I thought my family would have gotten after so many years of poverty. It was better than being treated as if we were diseased.

Perhaps something had happened, though. It might explain why Nesta was so quiet. She'd barely touched her food and just stared with those piercing blue-grey eyes that were an unsettling mirror of my own.

"That does sound strange," I said. We went quiet again, and I set my tea down and turned back to my plate. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Elain staring, too. "What?"

Elain shook her head. "You just look so…different. Not in a bad way of course. It's just as if there's a…a glow about you."

I froze. The only sort of people who were ever described as glowing were ones who were happily pregnant. Gods, I hadn't inadvertently given them the impression I was with child, had I?

"Did something happen at Aunt Ripleigh's house?" Elain asked. "Did you…meet someone?"

The tilt of Nesta's head was pure predator as she added, "Did you, Feyre?"

I wanted to say yes. Perhaps I was too much of a coward to admit to my human family that I'd fallen in love with a faerie, but I could have told a few half-truths. I didn't want to subject myself to an interrogation, though.

"Just good food and rest," I said.

Nesta got to her feet, straight-backed and regal as she stared down her nose at me. "We're out of tea. Why don't you come with me to get another pot from the kitchen?" It wasn't a question.

I followed her before Elain had a chance to object or insist on coming with. As soon as we were inside, Nesta's hand clamped down on my arm, and she steered me towards an empty sitting room and shut the door behind us.

"There is no Aunt Ripleigh," Nesta said.

Cauldron boil and fry me. I could kill whoever told her. "Of course there—" I started to say.

"Don't. I saw that look on your face when Elain asked if you'd met someone. She and Father don't remember that beast taking you away, but I do. Tell me what the hell is going on, Feyre."

All these months…Nesta had known. And kept it to herself.

She'd seen through Tamlin's glamour somehow, probably just because her mind was so thoroughly her own that he couldn't have violated it. And if a High Lord hadn't been able to fool her, I shuddered to think what she made of the sentries Rhys had sent, who were supposed to have been unseen by human eyes.

There was no point in hiding the bond from her, too. I pulled the chain with my mating band out from where I'd tucked it under the bodice of my dress. "I did meet someone in Prythian."

"You're married," she breathed. The disbelief in her voice shouldn't have stung as much as it did. Nesta had never made a secret of how thoroughly she doubted any man would ever find me an acceptable bride.

"In a manner of speaking. The fae either marry or mate if the Cauldron blessed them with a soul-bound partner. I have a mate. Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court."

Nesta barked a harsh, bitter laugh. I didn't know what to make of it until she said, shaking her head in disbelief, "Mother expected me to marry a prince, but you're the one who's ensnared a faerie king and become his consort."

"I didn't ensnare—"

"Then what? He forced you?"

"No!" I had no idea how to look my sister in the eye and tell her a magical stag had done it. Nesta just crossed her arms and stared me down, waiting for an explanation. She said nothing because she didn't have to—there was pure command in just the way she held herself. I took a breath and continued, "Rhys loves me, and I love him. He isn't the one who took me. That was Tamlin, the High Lord of Spring. Rhys got me out and took me somewhere safe. It's a long story, but yes, I am Lady of the Night Court now."

"And this Lord Rhysand is the reason we're now…taken care of?"

I didn't want to give Tamlin the credit. His kindness rang hollow—uncomfortably transactional, in a way—when it was clearly recompense for kidnapping me. And in truth, Rhys was the reason I hadn't worried about Tamlin impoverishing my family a second time in retaliation for swearing fealty to Night. "Yes."

"Then give him my thanks and don't come back here again."

The words might as well have been a slap to the face. I hadn't expected a warm welcome from Nesta, but…I'd hoped, at least, that she'd be something closer to civil.

"What about Father?" I said. "I haven't seen him since I was taken away."

"What about the rest of us? If anyone learns our sister is a fae sympathizer, any standing, any influence we have—gone."

Nesta's hand was resting on the back of an armchair, and she gripped it so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. The set of her shoulders was stiff.

It was the closest to afraid she ever seemed to get.

She had reason to be, as much as it hurt. Our family had tumbled into ruin once, and we'd all nearly starved to death because of it. I could not blame my sister for wanting to cling to the good fortune as fiercely as possible. I knew, deep down, she only did it because she wanted to see Elain safe and happy.

"There's more I need to tell you before I go."

"Stay the night, then. We can speak privately for longer after the servants have left for the day, but you'll need to leave before breakfast."

We wouldn't be overheard in the garden either, but Nesta clearly didn't want Elain to know any of this. I had half a mind to blurt it out before Nesta could stop me as soon as we sat back down with Elain. But this was for the best.

I trusted the walls surrounding Nesta's mind; she'd keep my secrets. But anyone with daemati abilities could pluck information right out of Elain's, and the chances were too high that someone intent on hunting me down might do just that. Elain couldn't know.

"Thank you."

A single nod—downright affectionate from Nesta. "Elain bought paints for you. She'd appreciate it if you left something for her; I know she misses the decorations you left in the cabin."

"I'd like that," I said, meaning it.

There was nothing else to discuss; we returned to the garden after that and made our excuses to Elain for taking so long with the rest of the tea. The three of us spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the sun, chatting and catching up. Nesta was still quiet, but…we didn't fight. No one insulted each other.

Even as a knot formed in my stomach at the thought of unburdening myself to Nesta later, I savored the peace as I painted foxgloves around the doorframe to Elain's bedroom.

This day had been a gift, and I was intent on appreciating it.

#feysand #feyre archeron #we said hello and your eyes look like coming home

33 notes · View notes

blueesnow · 11 months ago

Text

(6/6) Aijima Cecil's Private Story [Utapri Live Emotion]

Ch 1: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 6 with Cecil)

-Downtown- Cecil: Thank you for granting my wish for today, Haruka. Cecil: Getting you to teach me about the japanese language while we're walking around the city together…somehow it feels like a dream come true. Haruka: Oh no, that was such an exaggeration. But feel free to ask me anything. Cecil: Yes, I'm going to learn as many japanese as I can for today. …Ha! I quickly found something that caught my eyes. Cecil: I wonder what are those square things that are being lined up in that store. Is it probably…sweets? Haruka: That one is kintsuba. It's a sweet snack that was filled by red bean paste. Cecil: Oh, kintsuba…! The one next to it is a dango, right. Cecil: The one with a brown color and looks shiny over there…was it mitarashi dango? Haruka: Yes, exactly! Cecil: Looks like the reward for getting it right is your smile huh. …Oh, there's also one with a purple color too. Haruka: (It looks like Cecil-san is having fun) Cecil: Oh… look, Haruka. That little guy that was sitting on the display case is called Maneki Neko, right? Cecil: It was told that as it raised its hand it means that it will beckons happiness. Talk about a smart and hardworking guy. Haruka: Fufu, you're correct once again. Cecil: I know a lot about this cat after all. …That's right, now it's my turn to ask you a question!

Kintsuba: A confection of sweetened beans wrapped in wheat-flour dough (in the shape of a sword guard).

Mitarashi Dango: A traditional Japanese rice dumplings smothered in an irresistible sweet soy glaze.

Maneki Neko: A common Japanese figurine which is often believed to bring good luck to the owner, sometimes can also be called beckoning cat.

Ch 2: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 11 with Cecil)

-Downtown- Haruka: A question about Maneki Neko? Cecil: Yes. Just like the real cat, there are also different types of Maneki Neko too. Cecil: There's the one who only raised his right paw, and there's also the one who only raised his left paw just like this little guy over here. And each of them have different meanings. Cecil: If they raised their right paw it means to get more money. Now then the question, what is the meaning if they only raised their left paw? (choices) <To get more people!> Haruka: The answer is…to get more people! Cecil: Yes! As expected of you, Haruka. Look, the Maneki Neko also looks happy with your answer. Haruka: Fufu. So this little one is bringing us over here huh. Thank you little kitty. <To get more love?> Haruka: Is it…to get more love? Cecil: What a wonderful answer. I decided, let's change the answer to love from now on. Haruka: Y-You can't just suddenly decide to change that on your own. But, if Cecil-san likes the answer then…I'm happy to hear that. (back to story) Cecil: Haruka…You're so adorable. I really want to hug you right now. …May I touch you? Haruka: N-No, you can't! There's people around here… Um, you know what, let's go there! Cecil: You're quite shy aren't you. Wait for me, I'm coming with you…! -Cafe- Cecil: Phew… I came to know a lot of cute and interesting things today. It was all thanks to you. Haruka: It's not just all me, but I also have a lot of fun too today. Did you find it helpful even if it's just a little? Cecil: It's not just a little, but a lot. I came to like japanese language even more today. Cecil: Every time I learn a new word, and my memories keep increasing. It also add a new page on my vocabulary book. Cecil: But the new words that you teach me for today, not only does it written on my vocabulary book, it also add new page on my memories along with my heart.

Ch 3: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 21 with Cecil)

-Cafe- Haruka: Written in your heart…that was such a beautiful phrase. It really conveys Cecil-san's kindness. Cecil: To think that's how it looks like in your eyes. Meist*, Haruka. Haruka: Meist is…from Agnapolis's language and it means thank you right. Cecil: Yes! Hearing your words really warmed my heart, so I'd like to give my thanks. Cecil: Also, to think that you remember about "meist" too made me happy. Haruka: Oh no, there's still so much that I don't know… That's right, if you don't mind, could you tell me more about Agnapolis? Cecil: Why of course! I also brought an Agnapolis book here with me too. Let's read them together. Haruka: There are a lot of words lined up here. And a beautiful picture as well… Cecil: This one happens on the morning sunrise. As soon as the sun's rising, it fully painted the desert into an orange color. Cecil: It was such a breathtakingly beautiful sight. There are still a lot of beautiful places in Agnapolis too. For example… - Haruka: Fufu. Hearing Ceil-san's words just made me want to go there even more. Cecil: Hearing that you're interested with my hometown made me happy, I ended up told you many things. Cecil: Seeing you smiling while hearing my talk is also an adorable sight. Would you be willing to go out again together with me, just like this? Haruka: It'd be my pleasure. Cecil: It's a promise, Haruka. I'll be looking forward to the day where we can have a conversation again!

*: Idk how to exactly translate that so I just went along with meist. It was originally written as メイスト or meisuto as romaji.

You can check on twitter with #愛島セシルのアグナパレス語講座 for more Agnapolis language from Cecil tweets. There you can find some tweets, either from Cecil himself, or from someone in jp who compiled all words that Cecil taught to his followers before.

Ch 4: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 31 with Cecil)

-Waterfront Park- Haruka: (Phew. I was able to finish my job successfully for today. The sea breeze feels so nice…) Cecil: …Gūne mīrisu*! Hello, Haruka. Haruka: Cecil-san! Hello there. Did you…have TV filming for today? Cecil: Yes! I'll be appearing in a program called Agnapolis Language Class. Cecil: I'll be cooking food from my hometown under this clear blue sky. I'm really looking forward to it. Except for the location that is… Haruka: Cecil-san? Cecil: Ha! Hey Haruka, do you have any plans after this? Haruka: No, I was planning to go home after this. What's wrong? Cecil: I have a favor to ask. Will you please stay here and watch over me? I really need your help for today's filming. Cecil: I'm not that good with water, but this is work after all. Even if the location is at the seaside, I just have to put up with it. Cecil: Having you nearby will surely bring me comfort. And I'll be able to fully concentrate on the filming too. Haruka: Cecil-san… I understand! It'd be my pleasure to watch you on set! Cecil: Really…? Thank you so much, Haruka! Cecil: Now I have nothing to be afraid of anymore. With this, I'll be able to share the flavors of my homeland as much as I want to. Cecil: Please take a look closely as I do my best!

*: Again Idk how to translate this one so i just went with how its pronounced in romaji. It was written グーネ　ミーリス on jp and it means こんにちは/hello based on Cecil's tweets.

Ch 5: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 41 with Cecil)

-Waterfront Park- Cecil: Gūne mīrisu! My name's Aijima Cecil. This time we are here at this beautiful park. The wind here feels so nice! Haruka: (A smile that shows no sign of anxiety… As expected of Cecil-san!) Cecil: Today we will study Agnapolis Language while making "kitimeh*". Cecil: Kitimeh is one of the dishes from Agnapolis, it's quite similar to a Japanese crepe. Cecil: And this time we'll also be making "mehme*", which is a grilled lamb skewers. Let's start cooking right away! Cecil: I used to make mehme and kitimeh myself, and all members of ST☆RISH enjoyed eating them too! Cecil: I also came up with some ideas for arranging kitimeh, and to me it was such a pleasant discovery! Haruka: (Fufu, Cecil-san always look really happy when he's talking about ST☆RISH.) Cecil: Now the kitimeh's dough has formed into a beautiful circle. I'm going to flip it over in one go… Here I go! Haruka: (Amazing… The dough rolled and flipped back perfectly) Cecil: Fufu, it's just like a magic, isn't it? I'm sure that you can do it as long as you practice. Chiāte*! - Cecil: Mehme has been grilled perfectly into a golden brown. For kitimeh, time to wrap it up with minced meat and vegetables… Cecil: Yep, they turned out great. It'd also look cute if you wrap it up like a natto roll. Cecil: You can use that thing made of bamboo to roll it up… What's the name of it again…Hmm? Haruka: (Don't tell me…he forgot the name of "makisu*"…?)

*Idk how to spell it again, but thankfully I found that both of these dishes got mentioned on SL event story (it's cecil version of shining star live) and since the en version spelled it this way--I just copied it as it is www -(jp: キティーメ, romaji: kitiime) -(jp: メェム, romaji:meemu)

*Idk how to spell it again so i'm just using the romaji one as it is… ;;w;; Based on his tweet, チアーテ in agna means 頑張って/Good luck/Do your best

*Makisu (巻きす）or usually refered as a sushi mat, is a cooking utensil from Japan to prepare rolled sushi or any other Japanese foods. It's usually made by bamboo.

Ch 6: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 51 with Cecil)

-Waterfront Park- Cecil: Its name is…maki, maki…makimono! …or maybe not. Haruka: (I knew it, it looks like he totally forgotten about "makisu". That's right, if I can tell him with that…!) (choices) <(Let's lip-sync "makisu"…to him!)> Haruka: (Let's lip-sync it to him. Cecil-san, it's ma-ki-su!) Cecil: …That's right, it was "makisu"! I had a hard time trying to remember it, and it made me nervous. Cecil: But I can hear your voice in front of the TV trying to tell me the answer, and it certainly reached my heart. Meist. <(Let's write "makisu"…in the cue card)> Haruka: (Let's write it in the cue card so that he can see it. "Makisu"… Cecil-san, please see this) Cecil: …That's right, it was "makisu". Fufu, I feel a bit embarrassed. Cecil: I completely forgot about it by accident, but the Muse that dwells in my heart guided me to the correct answer. (back to story) Cecil: It all ended successfully… I don't know what would have happened if I had been there all alone. Cecil: I'm also not even slightly bothered seeing any sign of the sea. Your power is indeed amazing! Haruka: Oh no, I didn't do much. By the way, I had a lot of fun learning many words of Agnapolis's language again. Haruka: Mehme and kitimeh looked really delicious. Oh, and there's also something that I remember, "Chiāte" means good luck, isn't it? Cecil: Yes! Chiāte is a wonderful word, which means to give encouragement to people who take on challenges. Cecil: If you say this to people before live or work, they'll get a burst of energy from deep within their heart and it'll cheer them up. Haruka: Then…Cecil-san. Good luck on all of your work from now on. Chiāte! Cecil: Haruka… You're just like a magician. Now, I'm sure that I can overcome any difficulties that might arise after hearing that. Cecil: Thank you so much, My princess. I'll definitely repay you for your help today. Cecil: I also wish you all the best in your work until we can go out again together. Chiāte!

#utapri #live emotion #Aijima Cecil #it'll be one chapter for now #i'll be updating this as soon as i unlock another chapter #please correct me if my wording somehow not understandable as im not that fluent on both jp/en #aww cecil being a cutie as usual

27 notes · View notes

gnashingwailing · 1 year ago

Text

@fireflywritesgt LOVINGLY WRITING MY UNHINGED CH23 THOUGHTS AND THEN BURYING THEM UNDER A READMORE. I felt such overwhelming hype when I saw we got 2 chapters in 1 day I truly was ready to throw my phone out the fucking window. TOO MUCH JOY FOR ONE LITTLE GNASH... I hadn't even finished processing ch21......

first off pov Joe when he goes to Calloway's to pick up his cute new tailored fit in 3 days

soooo right from the jump. hey.

"“…’cause he’s way better off than I am, it’ll make it harder for me to leave him or something. That he’s luring me in. I mean—” Joe laughed nervously as he steeled himself in preparation for how the captain would react to his next statement “—if it were a giant treating me the way he treats me, everyone would call me a pet.”

“Well of course they would, Joe. That’s because giants are evil.” The captain said matter-of-factly.

He may as well have poked Joe squarely in the eye. Nonetheless, the bartender continued."

hey. UM. Joe you beautiful idiot who canonically has bad luck and, presumably from reading this very chapter, a terrible poker face. Maybe you should have said. Any Other Thing? GODDD in my heart he's definitely sooo overconfident and drunk like wow I am so smooth :) nobody suspects a thing :) while Calloway is having a conversation with him like uh... just saying, but you know, none of us could stop you from. for example. idk. becoming a giant's pet. we wouldn't like that but it's just a random thing that came to mind just now, unrelated to the really tall really wealthy really powerful guy who is afraid of taking advantage of you by luring you in and giving you things like a giant would and maybe isn't treating you like a person. And you're afraid you shouldn't want it. Like BRO IT IS SO OVER FOR YOU even without Harry literally calling Joe's name 3+ times in the dead silence 😭😭😭😭 And presumably Harry having been waiting around there for a while to see Joe! Loitering in a way we know tinies are on guard about since they all noticed that snatcher back in Ch13!

They're idiots ur honor, so true, but it's all worth it to see Joe get rescued and swoon like a damsel ... I definitely wonder if Calloway observed any of that, and what he might think about it if so. >:) May or may not have been daydreaming and writing bits about how horrifying it would be to give your surrogate kid all this well-meaning advice, see him nearly slip to his death, and while you're hurrying down to try and help him, watching him call out to a walking nightmare for help and then get whisked away by it

I have a pet theory that everything we've seen from Calloway so far has been pretty heavily colored by it being from Joe's perspective when he's having a bad day, and maybe he will be more understanding than we think? Objectively, I didn't think he was being very rude or anything back in Ch 13, when he was speculating on Joe's love life. It rankled Joe, which is understandable, but he 1) he's happy that Joe looks good, 2) he doesn't let Gutters or O'Grady rag on Joe too hard and 3) he just generally seems like an interested father figure would about his kid's love life:

"“Oh, lay off him, Tim. It’s a good borrowing year!” Captain Calloway cut in. “We all have ‘em, we all enjoy ‘em, we all cry ourselves to sleep when they’re over.”

Relief washed over Joe like the warm water in Harry’s sink.

“Though I gotta say…” The captain gave a wry smile as he continued. “…it could just as easily be someone else’s good borrowing year if ya’ catch my drift. Could be he’s got a little sweetheart looking after him. A brick of pure chocolate? That’s practically a dowry."”

Although I may be wrong here, since Ch 21's incident at Tiny Town with the Italian mob that saved him gives us the insight that "[for] the first time in Joe’s entire existence at that, Joe understood what it was like to have a real father." So maybe Calloway is not that nurturing to Joe and not much of a caring dad -- as @remordsposthume's tags so wisely point out:

WTF WAS HE DOING LETTING HIM LEAVE THE BAR LMAO. Calloway's Den of Drunkards confirmed for an "everybody drive home drunk. it's not my problem" bar??? Everyone is processing TAoLaW thru their own cultural lens and. in that spirit. lmfao. I must say. Calloway reminds me of the libertarian redneck dads I've known who just let their kids do whatever. If he was a giant I think he'd let his kids ride ATVs thru the woods drunk. Most probably he would also be ridin around drunk with them. "If you die it's your own damn fault" being his motto is too on the nose LOL. Huge farm dad "I LOVE MY SONS. ONLY HALF OF THEM WILL SURVIVE TO ADULTHOOD BUT I DO LOVE THEM" energy. To Me.

(Btw Harry & Joe processing their parental issues together WHEN <3)

BUT ANYWAY YEAH EVEN IF CALLOWAY WAS THE MOST UNOBSERVANT GUY IN THE WORLD RE: THAT SUSPICIOUS CONVERSATION? YOU WERE LITERALLY BOTH SCREAMING EACH OTHERS' NAMES LIKE LOVESICK ROMANCE PROTAGONISTS RIGHT UNDER THE DREDGE THAT'S STILL PROBABLY GOT AT LEAST SOME NIGHT MARKET CUSTOMERS? HELLO?? @94444 we are on the same wavelength rn

AND MORE ABOUT CALLOWAY... I am very heartened by how you mentioned once, Warren, that you planned to give each character real depth and treat them with sincerity. I feel very interested about when that time will be for Calloway! We know that he takes in kids (or at least O'Grady and Joe scratch that. tag lore be upon me) and teaches them how to sell trinkets. We know that he hates giants. We know he's been horribly injured in a way that led to him losing a hand, an eye, and possibly teeth. Knowing what we do about the risks of being a borrower, and how casually cruel giants are to them, it's not unlikely those last 2 things are related. I'M TAKING YOUR TAGS AND RUNNING AWAY WITH THEM LIKE A DOG W SOMETHING IN ITS MOUTH.

So Calloway knew them for several years as vulnerable kids... then lost them for a year or so... then got them back after they escaped the watchmaker's? I will be interested to see if that trauma means he's more protective of them, or uh, still more drunk libertarian dad about them. Lmao. He seemed like he cared about Joe getting into Tiny Town way back in Ch3 tho at least! (as an aside... interested in who Gutters is, too. He SEEMS to be older than Joe/Tim, but he could also still be a Calloway Kid himself... he seems to defer to Calloway... and/or he could just be some guy embittered about giant/tiny relations. which. fair, brother.)

If the broader Tiny Town culture (such as it is... would word get around about this incident with Joe and Harry, or does news just not travel that well amongst lots of secluded borrower communities? much to consider. it makes sense in a dark way why you would physically mark somebody who's transgressed against society's cardinal rule, in a culture where you cannot generally spread information effectively) would reject Joe for his proclivities... will Calloway, too? Or is it Joe's anxiety making him think that? I'm afraid we already know how Tim would feel. Other than him, Calloway is the person who Joe seems most connected to in miniature society... Although Harry's worry about Joe not spending enough time around his fellow miniatures in Ch22 is at least partially motivated by his own guilt-trip, I think he has a bit of a point! I hope Joe doesn't lose touch with everyone -- or if he does, I hope there will be new friends out there for him, too, who are more understanding.

(LORRAINE WHEN)

Now Calloway aside, OBVIOUSLY THE ENDING OF THIS CHAPTER HAD ME HOOTIN AND HOLLERIN.

“Joe… can we go back to the big, sexy giant part for a second?” <- LIT'RALLY me rereading this chapter 800 times

A snapping turtle is a fantastic little horror for poor Joe to face, woof. Those fuckers are scary enough when ur height is measured in feet. The quick way they snap is no joke. Just want to 👏👏👏👏 about how good this passage is: The turtle’s maw emerged from the waters of the lake like the gaping mouth of some ancient monster that fed on the souls of sailors. The grimy lakewater rushed over its beady little eyes as its beak, sharp as a dagger, flew towards Joe faster than a gunshot. YEAH.

It just!! makes my little heart sooooo happy to see that Joe does have someone who will unconditionally look out for him...!!! Harry has his issues, and they're still learning how to open up about themselves, but he consistently shows up!! :') the thought of him waiting for his man all night ... hoping the dredge would be the place Joe meant ... and then acting sooo fast when he saw a tiny guy fall off of it... what a faithful hound of a [future] boyfriend. Calloway is so right. Joe deserves somebody to look after him. And Joe has done the (forgive me for the loaded meme) girl math on this. One big man is the best possible outcome for him. ONLY THE BIGGEST MAN WILL DO to keep him off of his bullshit as much as possible 👍👍

And OF COURSE god their conversation is just so so so fucking funny. "Thank you" "fuck no I'm not" -> "FUCK YOU" is INCREDIBLE i CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT lmaooooo and Harry still being so gentle about receiving this insult and trying to parse what Joe means ... he does listen to Joe, they're definitely not back to square one as drunk!Joe feared, his own issues are just getting in the way! (And Joe's are getting in the way of him seeing thru Harry's facade into what the real issue is! We love to see it!)

"“I meant that. You don’t get to call me handsome until you start listening to me.” He slurred. “You gotta—you gotta want it.”

Joe crossed his arms and scowled up at the beautiful man and his beautiful face as Harry tried to parse what Joe was saying.

“Want it…?” Harry echoed.

“Yeah. You gotta want to be my friend. And screw what anyone else thinks!”"

And did anyone else cackle at how Joe telephone-gamed Calloway's advice to still be in plausible-deniability-land. "You gotta want to be my friend" ok. not what he fuckin said. run that back real quick -> "Not if you’re being open about what you want and everything. That’s how love works, Joe. You gotta want it."

I just adored the moments of insight between them, too. "... Joe knew his real answer was yes – he was just too afraid to say it overtly. He argued and fought and begrudgingly accepted it instead. / What was that saying to Harry?" vs. Ch22 Harry's revelation: "How much of his relationship with Joe was genuine, he wondered, and how much of it was Joe going along with Harry’s suggestions in the name of diplomacy?"

Joe IS acting like somebody who's being coerced! Harry IS being a trustworthy guy by noticing it and checking in once their relationship is definitely turning intimate! It's so fascinating to think in hindsight that every time Joe turned red and embarrassed, Harry was having a thought at the back of his mind like "he doesn't want this. I'm scaring him. He doesn't want me, and he doesn't even know the real me yet. And worse, he can't tell me, because he's afraid of what I might do to him." But he can't SAY all that because it would hurt too much if he said it and Joe confirmed he was actually correct, so Ch22 comes out as a trainwreck where he's accidentally insulting Joe's ability to survive without him. (Side note I KNEW Harry wasn't REALLY considering Joe his landlord. Sad!!! That fucked up scrawny starving guy has squatter's rights and he was doing pretty good all things considered maybe !!!)

The respective issues ~Society~ has given both of them just make it impossible to talk about the root of their problems without baring your guts in a really terrifying way. OOF.

HOWEVER this chapter confirming that homophobia isn't such a problem in tiny society is going to make this eventual conversation betwen them real interesting... Harry like "You don't understand Joe :( there's something really wrong with me... ... I like ... men..." and Joe being like "omg :) :) :) :) :) wait what's wrong with you tho" and then Joe "No you don't understand Harry :( I know this is sick but... I like.. giants... I'm sure you could never see someone smaller than you as anything other than a pet ..." and Harry just ":) :) :) :) oh what no :) Georgie was shorter than me" I hope they can have a good, baffled laugh at how long they could've been snuggling guilt-free. At the end of the angst. <3

#taolaw

44 notes · View notes

badbatchposts · 9 months ago

Text

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 24

Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, 18+/Explicit

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14 l Ch. 15 l Ch. 16 l Ch. 17 l Ch. 18 l Ch. 19 l Ch. 20 l Ch. 21 l Ch. 22 l Ch. 23

Chapter 24 summary: The squad searches an abandoned facility for clues to the whereabouts of the missing clones.

“So…how was it?” Wrecker demanded exuberantly, clapping Crosshair on the back hard enough to shove him forward a few feet. The sniper glared at his brother, huffing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted. He did, of course—Wrecker could only be referring to one thing. Crosshair was actually surprised that Wrecker had managed to hold back on the subject for this long, chatting away about nothing in particular the whole morning while they searched for any clue as to what the Empire had been doing here.

Now, as they waited for the others to join them outside the abandoned facility, Wrecker had apparently finally deemed it the right time to gossip. It was just Crosshair’s luck that he was stuck with the two nosiest members of the squad—barring, perhaps, Omega. Hunter had already scolded him, and he suspected he wouldn’t hear another word about it from him unless the Sergeant felt like it had become disruptive for the team. Tech would surely make a snarky comment or two, but he wouldn’t expect to receive any information directly from Crosshair, preferring to observe and come to his own conclusions. No, it was Wrecker and Echo who were the problem, and already Crosshair could tell by the look on Echo’s face that he was relishing the opportunity to pry. Sure, he would act all innocent and embarrassed as long as Omega or Dara herself were around, and maybe he wouldn’t want every sordid detail, but the ARC was a busybody, and everyone knew it.

In fact, Echo and Wrecker were exchanging gleeful looks right now, their grins positively wolfish.

“Oh, I think you know, Crosshair,” Echo teased. “It took you two long enough. Thought the Marauder might blow up from the amount of sexual tension. Felt like we were losing oxygen in there the last few weeks.”

The sniper crossed his arms and looked away sullenly.

“Aww, come on, Crosshair! You should be happy! We all know ya like her.” Crosshair just barely managed to sidestep Wrecker, who was reaching out for what was likely to be a bone-crushing hug.

“No, I don’t,” he muttered petulantly. “It was just sex.”

Echo rolled his eyes. “Sure it was.”

“Piss off,” Crosshair growled. “I mean it. In case you forgot, the person you all thought she was is a lie. In reality, she’s stubborn and hotheaded and she spied on us. Not to mention, Wrecker, that she shot you.”

Wrecker rolled his eyes and gestured accusatively. “Yeah, well, you shot me before too! And that time wasn’t a stun!”

“That’s not the point,” Crosshair snapped. “The point is that we hate each other and last night was nothing but a chance to finally let all that out. It was a quick, rough fuck in the woods and that’s all.”

Echo grinned slyly and cleared his throat. “Oh? How quick?” He managed to dodge the shove that Crosshair aimed at him, but not the toothpick that the sniper flicked at his face.

Wrecker, on the other hand, knit his brows together in concern.

“So…it wasn’t good?” he asked.

Crosshair scoffed, then let a smirk just barely lift the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t say that.”

Echo guffawed, and Wrecker brightened considerably, the grin returning. “Knew it.”

The sniper inserted a new toothpick and rolled it from one corner of his mouth to the other, his scowl returning. “Doesn’t matter anyway. Won’t happen again.”

Wrecker frowned. “Well, if it was good, then why not?”

Crosshair stared off in the direction of the facility, avoiding his gaze. “She’ll never be able to look past what I did with the Empire.”

“You’ve changed since then, Cross,” his brother insisted gently, resting an oversized hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. She’ll see it.”

The sniper rolled his eyes, unable to come up with a retort and uncomfortable at his brother’s all-too-typical display of vulnerability and emotional support. He was relieved when they were interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the squad, though he took care to avoid looking anywhere in Dara’s direction.

If he had hoped that finally fucking would get her out of his system, he was sorely mistaken. If anything, he was worse, feeling drawn to her like a magnet so that he had to make the conscious effort to face toward the facility. The memory of her breathily moaning his name last night kept intruding into his thoughts.

With any luck, Hunter would continue to keep them separated as they searched the building, like he had split them into separate groups to scout this morning. Crosshair, still feeling the overwhelming urge to turn back towards her like a compass finding north, was certain that if they were alone together again he wouldn’t be able to resist touching her. He wasn’t prepared yet to find out if, after last night, she would even let him.

Hunter came to stand beside Crosshair and considered the building thoughtfully, no doubt tuning into his enhanced senses to assess the situation they were about to enter. “I’m not getting anything. Tech?”

“I am not scanning any heat signatures,” Tech affirmed from somewhere behind them. “This facility does, indeed, appear to be abandoned.”

“I hope it’s not ’cause of a giant monster or something. It always seems like it’s ’cause of a giant monster,” Wrecker groaned.

Tech blinked. “I have found no information to indicate that to be a concern on this planet, but much of its flora and fauna remains uncatalogued, so I am unfortunately unable to rule it out.”

“That’s real comforting, Tech,” Echo muttered.

The group approached the door cautiously. “Power’s out,” Hunter noted. “Wrecker?”

Grinning, the demo expert gave the panel a few well-placed hits from his large fist, denting it until it shifted out of place so that he could pry it open easily. The men activated their helmet lights while Dara and Omega pulled glowrods from their packs before proceeding into the darkened hallway.

“We shall have to restore power to see if we can access any information about this facility’s purpose,” Tech informed them.

Hunter nodded. “You and Echo go on ahead. We’ll do a sweep and see if we can find anything else useful.”

After the pair departed, the rest of the group took their time checking each room carefully, gleaning what information they could. The facility was not old, but the Empire had already been gone long enough for dust and debris to settle eerily in its corners. Some areas had been cleaned out entirely, leaving only faded outlines where equipment once stood, like ghosts imprinted along the walls. In others, state-of-the-art technology lay broken and derelict, unworthy of salvage. Their first clue as to the building’s purpose was revealed in a room still crowded with metal gurneys, the shattered remnants of broken vials, and chemicals gleaming in stoppered beakers.

“Woah,” Omega breathed. “I think this was a lab. Or some sort of medical center, maybe.”

Crosshair was staring hard into a corner of the room. “Is anyone else seeing that?” he asked.

“What is it? The rest of us can’t see everything you do, Cross,” Wrecker reminded him.

“Something’s…glowing,” the sniper explained.

“Hang on.” Dara fiddled with the settings on her glowrod until it emitted UV light, and the rest of the group was suddenly able to see the faint blue glow coming from the direction that Crosshair was facing. Amid a pile of shattered glass, one vial was cracked but remained intact, preserving the bright blue liquid inside. Dara stooped and carefully retrieved the vial, holding it up for the others with a knowing glance.

“This remind the rest of you of anything?”

Hunter furrowed his brow. “The chemical from the vault,” he pointed out, just as Crosshair murmured, “The river.”

Wrecker frowned. “What river?”

Crosshair hadn’t entirely meant to say it out loud. When Tech had launched into an explanation of bioluminescence as they were passing over the river yesterday, the daylight meant that its glow still wasn’t visible. Only he and Dara had seen it last night. The image of a nude Dara, haloed in blue, came into his mind unbidden. He shook away the thought as he explained, his voice clipped.

“Near the camp. There’s a bioluminescent river. It glows blue at night. Tech told us.”

Around them, the facility suddenly shuddered to life as the overhead lights came on.

“Indeed, I did tell you,” Tech informed them over comms. “That is most interesting. Echo and I are now proceeding to the facility’s records storage to determine if any data escaped being erased. It is too bad that the sample from Prium’s laboratory was lost—if we still had it, we would be able to determine if the chemicals are the same. As it is, we will have to rely on the rudimentary scan I took in the vault.”

“Ah… hmm. Well…” Dara stuttered. “I may have another confession.”

The clones in the room with her all turned to stare.

“What kind of a confession?” Echo growled over the comms.

Dara shrugged. “The vial didn’t actually get smashed. I thought it might be the project that Prium was working on for the Empire, and I was worried it might be dangerous. So I hid it. I was planning on taking it with me for us to study when I left. It’s still on the Marauder.”

“Well, that is most fortunate,” Tech replied cheerfully.

Dara looked relieved that he was taking it in stride, rather than holding it against her. “We’ll save the vial for you to match the sample from Prium’s lab, Tech,” she replied, holding her datapad up to the container. “For now, I’m sending you a scan of its chemical composition.”

Hunter just sighed and held a hand to his visor in exasperation. “Alright. Let’s keep moving,” he ordered.

The group returned to their search, but were stopped short a few doors later, when the panel slid open to flood the corridor with bright, midday sunlight. They stepped into the enormous room, whose roof and three sides were made of transparisteel. The area was divided by a series of raised beds in neat, even rows, though the soil that filled them was entirely devoid of plant life.

“A greenhouse?” Wrecker questioned.

Omega trailed her fingers through the nearest bed, swirling designs into the dirt. She grabbed a handful and gave it a curious sniff. “What were they growing?”

With a faint smile on his face at her futile mimicry, Hunter pinched his own sample and did the same, nostrils flaring slightly. “I think…they were growing that.” He gestured to Dara, who retrieved the herb they had found outside from her bag and handed it to him. He took a whiff of the plant and nodded firmly. “Yep, that’s definitely it.”

“Hey, guys,” Echo piped up over the comms. “We were able to restore some data that wasn’t erased properly. You might want to come meet us.”

Hunter held a hand up to his helmet. “There in a few,” he replied.

When the group had reunited with Tech and Echo, they all circled up, ready to report their findings. Echo’s brows were drawn together sharply with worry.

“Well, we were able to confirm that the missing clones were here,” he commented darkly. “We found a list of CT numbers. Dozens of them were being detained. But they’re not listed as prisoners—they’re listed as test subjects.” Hunter and Crosshair, who stood on either side of the cyborg, each laid a comforting hand on one of his shoulders. For obvious reasons after his imprisonment by the Techno Union, Echo was rather sensitive to the idea of experiments being conducted on sentients against their will.

Tech frowned sympathetically. “Yes. Unfortunately, the identical genetic makeup of clones makes us rather ideal for the purpose of controlling variables during the initial stages of scientific research.”

“Did you find any connection to Kumalon—Prium’s pharmaceutical company?” Dara inquired.

Echo shook his head. “We couldn’t retrieve much else—nothing on what they were testing or where the clones ended up.”

Omega frowned. “So we have some dug-up plants that the Empire was trying to grow indoors, a strange chemical that glows under UV light, and the clones are still missing.”

Hunter sighed. “We only have a few hours of daylight left. Wrecker, Tech, and Echo, search the rest of the facility in case anything else turns up. Dara, Omega and I will head back outside and look over the grounds—we might find more evidence of digging or a clue to where the clones are. Crosshair, head to the roof and check if you can see anything from a higher vantage point.”

The group separated, Crosshair searching for a roof access. By the time he emerged into the fresh air, Hunter, Omega, and Dara were exiting from the front of the facility where they had first entered. He watched through his scope as Dara and Hunter had a brief discussion before splitting up, Hunter and Omega heading right, while Dara headed left, each circling around the building’s perimeter. He did his own scan, searching the tree line that surrounded the facility for anything obviously out of place, but came up empty.

Finally, he found his scope drawn to Dara almost of its own accord. He tried to tell himself that he was just watching her back—Omega had Hunter to protect her, but Dara was alone, after all. He had pointedly kept his helmet turned away from her during their search of the facility, only allowing himself to check in on her out of the corners of his eyes. She, on the other hand, hadn’t looked at or spoken to him at all. He wondered if she could sense that he was watching her now. At the thought, he shifted his scope, checked in on Hunter and Omega’s progress—Omega was happily laughing at something as Hunter looked down on her with a fond smile—and scanned the area again.

When he turned back in the direction Dara had been walking, she had disappeared.

Crosshair forced down the uncharacteristic throb of panic clawing its way up his throat and searched again. She couldn’t have just vanished, there was no time, he must have just missed her somewhere, maybe she’d gone to check out something just inside the forest, she was—

There. Dara was scrambling her way back up over a small rise in the terrain between the facility and the tree line, looking the worse for wear, clothing coated in some sort of filth and debris. As he watched, she stood, turning and staring down at something he couldn’t quite make out, just beyond the rise. She bent over, brushing her hand against the soil, then suddenly dropped to her knees. He was just about to go against his better judgment and check if she was alright when her voice came through his comm.

“Crosshair.” It was a hoarse whisper, drained of strength.

“What happened?” He tried to keep his own tone even, although that inexplicable feeling of panic had not quit.

“Do you have eyes on Hunter and Omega?” Dara choked out. “Are they far from my position?”

With difficulty, Crosshair tore his scope away from the scene before him for long enough to locate the others.

“They’re still on the other side of the facility. What happened? Do you need help?”

Dara was facing away from him; her shoulders trembled, and he could hear a few shuddering breaths. After a tense moment, she stilled, and her breathing returned to normal. He heard a beep as she switched over to the open comm line.

“Hunter,” Dara began, voice now far steadier, although she stumbled over a few of her words. “I found—I found the missing clones. They’re dead.”

Next chapter

Tag list: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon @somewhere-on-kamino @morerandombullshit @zahmaddog

Thanks again to @cloneflo99 for the amazing banner!!!

Author's note: I think it's a fun idea to imagine that Crosshair's enhanced eyesight includes being able to see part of the non-visible spectrum.

#the bad batch #star wars #bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb crosshair #the bad batch fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair bad batch #crosshair x oc #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb omega

17 notes · View notes