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#sick of this stupid rationality
mr-orion · 2 months
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When they say:
"Why are you giving them money, they'll probably use it on drugs!"
You say:
"Oh cool! that's what I was gonna use it on! 😶"
-and it works every single time
Honestly super sick of people finding every false rationallity to tell me what to do with my damn money.
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I’m probably just yelling into the void at this point but whatever. as we debate the possible return of kali in s5, there’s one thing I just can’t let go of. and that’s henry mentioning her to el.
we’ve seen a lot of potential hints in s4; kali’s name showing up in the crossword brenner was doing, the number ‘8′ in the plink(?) game el was playing having a disk under it to show the number vs all the other numbers having disks covering them (plus, henry taking a disk and placing it under the ‘1′ to in exactly the same way to indicate that ‘one’ was still alive), the duffers hinting at wanting to go back to s2 themes in s5, and even someone telling me that kali was recently added to the stranger things mobile game when she’s never been considered before.
all of this....I can potentially push aside. we always say how the duffers are meticulous on detail and things are usually in there for a reason, but not every theory is correct (plus, I haven’t really trusted them ever since they forgot the date of will’s birthday) and it’s not quite enough for me to solidify kali returning. the disk lining up to show ‘8′ might’ve just been a mistake, kali’s name in the crossword might’ve just been a fun easter egg (since barb’s name was there too, and there’s no way she’s coming back), etc.
HOWEVER, the one thing I cannot let go of and otherwise justify is henry mentioning her. in the flashback scene, he begins by asking el if she remembers the day ‘a strange woman came in’ (terry) - following it up with ‘that was when eight was still with us.’ the whole point of henry telling el this, wasn’t to bring up kali. it was so he could tell her that that woman was actually her mom who came to rescue her, that brenner lied to her, etc, all to help manipulate her into better accessing her powers so he can utilize them. so, my question remains then, 
WHY DID HE MENTION KALI
WHY???? WHAT WAS THE POINT???? WAS IT JUST TO GIVE EL A POINT OF REFERENCE??? BC I’M PRETTY SURE EL WOULD’VE REMEMBERED EITHER WAY.
I just don’t get it, narratively. if henry wanted to refresh el’s memory of the moment terry broke in trying to take her back, he very much still could’ve done that without mentioning kali. there was literally no other reason to mention kali in that circumstance - other then to bring her up. the show has been otherwise ignoring kali ever since her episode, never speaking of her again, even el not mentioning she had a sister. if a show wants to forget a character, they will just in fact ignore that that character ever existed; I’ve seen it before. it’s like they poofed right out of existence.
but now, all of a sudden, she’s being mentioned. that means, if the duffers/writers bothered to put her in the script and have a character mention her by name, they want us to be aware of her existence. they even replayed the rainbow room scene from terry’s memory, where it shows a young kali and el playing together (you could argue that it would’ve been too hard to simply edit kali out for sake of the scene, but whatever).
this, to me, is the one SOLID stake of evidence for kali to possibly resurface. this, and then those other little hints, altogether, make for a solid theory I think. bc I cannot think of another reason henry would mention kali to el, other to simply drop her name in anticipation for what’s going to come up.
or at least I hope I’m right, bc the one thing that would make s5 is kali returning, teaming up with el and fighting vecna.
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skhardwarevers1 · 5 months
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I am sitting in a twelve foot deep hole and I’m not leaving ever
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valeechtine · 8 months
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please god let me just have a good week unimpeded
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arthur-r · 8 months
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tonight is my last night sleeping in my bed. possibly for the rest of my life. and my last time in my room possibly for the rest of my life. and i want to just get a good night’s sleep to be ready for a long day tomorrow but it’s really not working out like that.
#my family is still up in the air maybe selling this house within the next month#in which case i will never be in this room ever again. otherwise i will be back for the holidays so there’s still a month of this bedroom#if we sell the house in the spring instead (only rational option there’s no way we can empty it in time)#especially since i will not be in this house whatsoever until after that sell date. my mom all by herself can’t empty it all#anyway i’m struggling a bit. saying goodbye to my home of 14 years????#i’ve been through a lot in this place and most of it is bad memories but like. every good memory i have is from here too….#and everyone i know irl is staying local i’m the only one who’s leaving. one irl friend is going to the same school as me but we had a fight#within the past month and i don’t think we’re ever going to recover because she just kind of never treated me like a person#so i’m starting from scratch and it’s really.. like fuck i want to get out of here but i’m also not at all ready to actually leave#i’m just going to miss all the stupid little things so much. even my online memories are tied to this place#like the woods down the street where my deer friends live and the ditch i fell into back in the day and all the places i’ve gotten lost#and they’ll be right here waiting for me and i’m SO excited for college i am but why does it have to feel so sudden????#i dont know how anyone does it.. and all my friends are going to colleges in their hometown so i don’t even have anyone to compare with#i found out today that if we keep the house through the winter my mom is planning on using my room as a guest room and office. and of course#that makes sense and everything but now i have the most crushing guilt for not cleaning it up well enough. i thought it would be okay and#i’d just have to deal with it when i come back and i didn’t know she wanted to use it and she’s going to box up all of my things without me#and i feel guilty that i didn’t do that and i feel scared and upset because it’s my things and my room i don’t want it to change#i’m just really anxious and sad and scared and i don’t know what to do. school is going to be good but none of this feels real or normal#and i just feel sick and scared and i don’t know what to do. waking up at 8am and leaving at 9am and moving in at 2pm and that will be it#my mom and sister are staying for a couple days and that will be good i hope. i dont know i feel so conflicted about everything#and i’m tired and sick and angry and overwhelmed and i just want to take a week off and come back alive again#and i guess that’s what i’m about to do.. after i move in there’s eight days before college starts and all i’ll be doing is moving in#(and welcome week activities. and a lot of sleeping. but hopefully i’m gonna get a rollator through a loan program and that will help a lot)#anyway here’s what’s going on. i’m going to maybe try to sleep i guess. but if anyone has advice or encouragement about moving to college..#now is the time i really need it. it’s just so strange and conflicted and everyone i know has been telling me i just need to get out of here#and myself included i really want to get out of here. but how can i start anew when everyone i’ve loved is shattered. and what have you#think i have to listen to that song for long enough to remember how badly i want to leave….#i’m just really not feeling well. i’m angry that i never got to have the childhood i deserved#because now i’m leaving and that means it’s officially over…. i’m just really not feeling well. i think i’m running out of tags….#i hope you all are well. i’ll be around in the morning maybe.. i’m not sure. hope everyone has a good night
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tabbytiger · 3 months
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Having the profound realization that, yes, I am indeed psychotic. I also have adhd so they are holding hands. Think I’ve been in a psychotic episode since the last months of 2023 and I’m just now realizing it. 😭 I wrote it off as just my paranoid anxiety but like gorly those are symptoms of Psychosis.
Umm anyways who wants to perform a ritual to rid me of this ailment.
#13#the urge to confront a delusion but you’re too afraid to ask for validation#Like I know its a delusion but I’ve experienced it before so its hard to rationalize#I’m scared if I ask for validation or comfort I might make people in my life irritated or angry#Like what if it just makes them dislike me more#Genuinely one of the worst delusions i have#I feel so strongly to try and be the perfect person and friend but I keep not being aware of what im doing or saying#And then It just feeds into the delusion#Like the grip this has on me#That and my stupid delusion of thinking someone is going to break in and kill me or my family in the middle of night#Or I think they’re already dead or I just get terrified that I’ll find them when I wake up#Me genuinely getting afraid when I have ‘thoughts that may manifest into reality’ and I HAVE to knock on wood#I also genuinely think hiding under the covers will save me#cryptids??? yup they’re real and they’re going to get me if I talk or think about them#I unplug a lot of stuff before sleeping bc I’m afraid house will explode#Also after the marshalls fires happened I’ve been worrying about my house catching fire in the middle of night#I hate it when people walk behind or close to me in the same direction#If I see what i percieve as ‘weird’ stuff on my foods I stop eating it cuz I’m worried it might make me sick or diseased#Ive literally passed out during psychotic attacks bc I get so terrified something bad will happen my brain just shut off the power#Like I know they’re mostly irrational and not real or true but the belief that it is is soo strong u still get scared#They make me avoid stuff as well#Like seeing a vc w all my friends in it but not joining even if I want to bc I’m scared something bad my happen#or that me joining will upset and interrupt what they’re doing#Or i genuinely think they don’t want me there or that they don’t like me so I get anxious and lay in bed for hours#for the last like 4-5 months I’ve been spending all my free time lying in bed not moving bc I lack energy#Its hard for me to believe people want me or the concept of emotional permanance#Like I genuinely can’t grasp the concept that people by default aren’t constantly up with you#and that love can last longer than the minutes it was expressed#I keep losing my train of thoughts my memory is getting worst I’m word vomiting more#A thing I do that annoy people a lot is sometimes I will the the long way to get to the point I’m talking abt
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cockyroaches · 4 months
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Hi I'm being plagued by memories of a tidal wave of ocd centered panic from last year bc I'm back at the same place it happened and at the same time of year too. And I just revisited what triggered it to see if it'd calm me down and help me rationalize it as something not real.
Didn't work! Didn't work.
And I'm so mad. My ocd has ruined this place for me. I can't come back here without the claws of my spiraling paranoia choking me again, making me physically sick wherever I go.
And I feel like going "I was so scared and scarred by this experience (that shouldn't have had such an impact on me, mind you) a year ago that I can't come back to this place without feeling sick to my stomach and like I'm going to die horrifically and the scenario keeps haunting me and destroying my ability to enjoy myself in a family trip we've been doing for longer than I've been alive" wouldn't make for a good enough reason to call this ocd.
Chasing my own tail trying to calm myself down and be happy again because I know it doesn't make sense but there's nothing I can do other than avoidance. This is so fucking unfair.
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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rubber duck
in which reader is sick and spencer takes care of his girl!!
fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as girl, non-sexual undressing + nudity/intimacy, reader takes bath, spencer doesn't but he is in fact present a/n: heeeeyyy guys.... sorry for not posting for a month... accept this as a token of my gratitude and know that smut is in the works. keep sending requests, might not answer them but you never knoww!!
Spencer gets home around ten PM. Granted, it’s not a completely unreasonable time for someone to be asleep, but for you? A person who’d rather not go to bed at all than wake up before eight in the morning? You being passed out on the couch at this time is definitely abnormal.  
He drops his bag on the coffee table as he approaches, kneeling next to where you’re curled up in the dark room. Part of him doesn’t want to wake you if you’re tired, but he’s mildly concerned. Normally after him being away all week you’ll stay up until he gets home regardless of how late (or early) it is. Ambient light coming in through the window allows him to see the sickly sheen to your skin, and he feels your forehead with the back of his hand. 
“Spence?” you murmur, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. His response is equally quiet, wavering slightly. 
“Hey. Are you feeling okay, angel?” 
Even though you decidedly are not, your spirit lifts considerably at the sight of him in front of you. A wave of caramel hair falls over his furrowed brow as he scans your face, looking for signs that something is wrong. You brush it away, hand coming to rest on his cheek. 
“I’m fine. I missed you a lot.” 
Your voice is a paper-thin whisper, giving you away even as you try to downplay your condition. 
“I missed you too, but I’m a little worried. You’re pretty warm.” His eyes dart away from your face and down your body, seeming to notice your attire for the first time. “Did you go to work?” 
“I tried to. But I had to come home at early. I guess I didn’t make it all the way to bed.” 
This seems to worry him even more, if the way his eyes narrow and the line of his mouth tightens is anything to go by.  
“How long have you been asleep?” 
“Well... what time is it?” you ask sheepishly, still disoriented. 
“10:20.” 
“Oh god,” you moan, burying your face into a pillow (which does not make breathing any easier through all the congestion), “I’ve been sleeping for eight hours!” Panic wells in your chest at the ridiculous notion that you somehow lost an entire day to sleep.  "I didn't mean to-"
“Shh, relax, it's fine. Your immune system works a lot more efficiently when you’re asleep. It’s the best thing you can do when you’re sick. Studies show that melatonin may actually be an effective antiviral, and people who sleep seven hours a night are 300% less likely to develop an illness than people who sleep only five hours a night.” 
Despite yourself, you smile into the pillow at his unprompted information dump.
“So... am I... 500% more likely to be better tomorrow?” 
He laughs, running a hand through your hair. 
“I don’t even know where you got that number.” 
“I failed statistics in high school,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto an elbow. 
“Honey, that’s Algebra.” 
You bury your face in your hand and laugh at your own stupidity- before it devolves into a coughing fit.  
“Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you hate germs,” you say once you’ve managed to get the coughing under control. You look at his face, but there are no signs of disgust or fear. 
“I could never hate your germs. But I am worried about the cough... do you think a bath would help?” 
You mull it over. Part of you wants to rot on the couch forever, but the more rational part knows you should definitely get up and try to take care of yourself. With a helping hand from Spencer you rise, stumbling into his waiting arms like a foal on shaky legs. Immediately you feel fatigued, but he patiently guides you to the bedroom and sits you on the mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. 
For a few minutes the only sound aside from you catching your breath is the tub filling from the other room. Soon he returns, to find you curled up on the bed and barely conscious once more. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, gathering you up in his arms and helping you to your feet once more. “You really don’t feel good, huh?” 
You shake your head, allowing yourself to be carefully herded into the bathroom. Spencer moves to sit on the edge of the steaming tub, pulling you forward gently by your belt loops. Deftly he begins to undo your jeans as you fumble with the buttons on your shirt. 
“I feel like I’m dying,” you groan. He glances up at you.
“I wish you would have told me you were sick. I would have come home earlier.”  
“I thought about it,” you admit sheepishly, “but I figured better I be sick and alone than more people potentially end up dead because I’m too needy.” 
Your boyfriend sighs, resting his hands on your hips as he looks up at you with a mix of earnestness and admonishment.  
“At least tell me next time. I don’t like the idea of you here all alone without anyone knowing you’re ill.” His fingers press gently into your flesh to emphasize his point. “Okay?” 
“Okay,” you agree softly, without hesitation. Spencer’s expression softens too, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your sternum. 
“In,” he directs after you wiggle out of your jeans, getting out of the way and helping you into the water. He watches as you carefully submerge yourself, a little tense as if he’s ready to jump into action at any second. “Is it too warm? I tried not to make it too hot because your body temperature is al-” 
“It’s perfect,” you reassure, sinking further in. Steam billows up around you and you sniff. “Lavender?” 
Spencer nods, settling on the floor next to you. 
“And mint. I’m surprised you can actually smell it.” 
Normally you’d tease him for his fussing, but the minty steam really does seem to be helping you breathe a bit easier. After only a few minutes, you feel noticeably better. 
“Will you read to me?” you ask dropping your head to your shoulder to look at him. 
He’s leaning against the wall and monitoring you with a contented look on his face. At the suggestion his eyebrows raise. 
“Of course. What do you want to hear?” 
“Fairytales. But only the super gory ones. The more disturbing the better.” 
“What? No Jane Austen?” 
“Ugh, no. I need to hear about terrible things happening to beautiful princesses so I can feel seen.” 
A small smirk graces his lips as he regards you, eyes sparkling with humor and thinly veiled affection. 
“You are utterly ridiculous.” 
“You have to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you whine, slinking lower into the bubbles. Spencer hums in sympathy, running his hand through the water to check the temperature before trailing his knuckles over your arm. 
“My poor sick girl,” he teases. You huff indignantly, attempting to hide the way his words make you melt into the bathwater. 
“Just get the book, Spencer.” 
“Yes ma’am.” He kisses your forehead (covertly gauging your fever, you’re sure) before pushing off the ground. You watch him leave, heart overflowing with adoration even though you still feel sick. Maybe it’s the bath that’s helping, or maybe it’s just his presence.  
A minute later he returns to his post beside you bearing Grimm’s Fairytales and a tall glass of water, which he tells you to drink all of before he starts reading. Regardless of how unwell you feel, you find the energy to make sarcastic comments about the characters’ intelligence and the implausibility of the plot (it’s a fairytale, Spencer reminds you) but soon the soothing cadence of his voice enthralls you. The illustrations and the story capture your imagination as you rest your head and arms on the side of the tub. 
More time has gone by than you realize when you begin to shiver in the now lukewarm water. Spencer notices, finally setting the book down. 
“Ready to get out?” 
You nod and he helps you step out of the tub, pulling you close and wrapping you with a fluffy towel. Absolutely no heed is given to the state of his own clothing as your wet skin soaks his shirt, or his own health as he breathes in your air. 
“I’m gonna get you sick, Spence,” you say anxiously, making a feeble attempt to pull away. Spencer doesn’t even begin to allow it, holding you even tighter. The honesty of his words is reflected in his eyes as he looks down at you adoringly. 
“I can live with the idea of spending a few days at home together.” 
You lean into him further, too tired to hold much of your own weight up. 
“I can’t believe you have to intentionally get sick to get time off work.” 
“You’re definitely worth it.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back for a moment.  
“And to think,” you muse, the words muffled by his shirt, "when we first met, you wouldn’t even shake my hand.” 
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Hi guys!
This is a request I had some days (or weeks?) ago. I hope it would please the sweet anon who asked for it :)
Enjoy!
TW : Concussion, blood, injury, fainting.
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Since the beginning of the day, something seems of when you look at your girlfriend. She seems worried, not at ease and is excessively clingy with you. Not that you don’t like it, but Lia always have said that you should be careful about your relationship. She doesn’t exactly want to be secret, but she wants people to concentrate on her play and not on her relationship. Which you can understand, her breakup with Caitlin Foord looked like it involved a lot of other people. The fans, actually.
You choose not to come together this afternoon for the game, you’re playing in the Arsenal’s stadium, so you have to come with your cars. You asked Alessia to pick you up and Lia is supposed to get you home. Because of the traffic jam Alessia and you are a little late. You are surprised to see you girlfriend almost jumping on you when you arrive, grabbing you by the sleeve of your jacket.
“Where the hell have you been?! I was worried sick!”
You look at her with incredulity written on your face. Where is your girlfriend, always calm, posed, thoughtful and rational?
“We had a lot of traffic on the road, but everything’s fine. Are you ok?”
She doesn’t answer, grabbing you by the hand this time, to get you to the changing room. You question Leah with a look, but the blonde only shrugs her shoulders. You take Alessia with you with your free hand, dragging her with you.
You are not even late when you get on the pitch, starting the training after hearing some of tactical adjustments from Jonas. Lia, sitting next to you, doesn’t seem to be able to stay still. And she is very nervous during the drill too, making you wonder what the hell is happening to her.
You take her around a corner before going to change for the game, far away from the other’s ears.
“Lia what’s happening? You are acting weird since this morning.”
“Nothing” Lia sighs, looking around her.
Everywhere but you. You cup her cheek with your hand, attending to have a real exchange of look with her. You know that when you look at her in her eyes, she can’t lie.
“Lia” you say with a soothing voice. “Talk to me Baby, please.”
She sights and rub her face, still leaning against your touch anyway.
“You are going to think that I’m stupid.”
“Not even in your wildest dream.”
This time your girlfriend rolls her eyes and smile lightly, making you smirk in return. You know that if it’s affecting Lia like this, this isn’t nothing.
“I just have that feeling that something bad will happen. I had it when Leah did her ACL and it’s back.”
The Swiss woman already talked to you about the feeling she had that day, almost seeming to say that it was her fault if something like that happened to Leah. You trust her, obviously. But your job is to reassure her too.
“It’s going to be ok Babe, I swear. I won’t let anyone take you down.”
Next to Katie and Leah for today, you are a defender. And for you, your job is to not let the other team come near your goalkeeper, but not to touch any of your teammates too. The fans call you The Bodyguard, and it’s not for your passion for the song « I will always love you ». You are higher than Lia but you aren’t really high either. You don’t seem to be big too, but your muscles allow you to stay with your feet firmly on the ground against almost every charge.
You offer a hug at Lia, who cuddle against you. She doesn’t exactly worry about herself, more about one of your friends. But she tries to convince herself what you said. It’s going to be alright.
During the game, you see your girlfriend flinch every time that one of your teammates is on the ground. Liverpool isn’t playing dirty, there are some faults of course, but it’s a great game. At halftime, it’s 2-0 for Arsenal.
But when you are back in your cubby, your girlfriend always seems to the point of fainting from stress. You decide to abandon Lotte and her cubby next to yours to go sit next to Lia in her cubby. You propose her half of your banana, which she take with a small smile. Looking around to be sure that no one is looking at you, you kiss her cheek.
“Breath Babe. Everything is fine, see? We are winning and no one is hurt.”
Lia nod and take your arm against her, trapping it between her two. You let her, smiling when she put her head on it. When it’s time to get back, you kiss her hair and follow her peacefully.
You should have listened to her though. Because it’s not her, it’s not one of your teammates that get hurt at the end of the game.
It’s you.
Around the 80 minutes, you are running on the box to try to take a ball from Caitlin. She sends it and at the same time as you, another player from the other team is jumping. Your heads collided. Hard. You were running from all your speed, so is your opponent. The first shock almost knocks you out immediately, but the way you fall on the ground with all your weight, head first, it’s the one thing too many.
You fall out, not reacting at first when Caitlin run to you, making you roll to your side. Jonas is screaming to the medic to “get your ass on the pitch right now”. When they arrive at your side, Alessia and Katie are here too. But Lia is frozen at the other side of the pitch, unable to make a move.
After some hesitation and realizing that the medical team shushed away almost everyone from you, Leah decides to take care of Lia. There is only Katie left next to you, maybe because she’s your best friend. Some feet from away you, Alessia and Caitlin are shaking and Lia knows right away that this is bad.
“Lia” Leah calls her.
The Swiss woman looks at her friend, who doesn’t know what to say. The blonde just takes Lia’s hand, training her slowly in the direction of the bench, where your other teammates are. But when she realizes where she’s going, Lia stop dead in her track.
“I want to see her” Lia mumbles.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea...”
Alessia, who were not far from them give a look at Leah. She shakes her head at Leah behind Lia’s back and the blonde understand quickly. But Lia sees that Leah is looking at someone and Alessia can’t stay quiet when she sees your girlfriend’s face.
“I think it’s better that you stay here for some seconds. There is blood and…”
And suddenly there is more movement next to you and they can see Katie standing up. Her hands are red with your blood and Lia starts walking without really realizing it. She ignores Leah calling her, she just wants to see you.
“Lia, stop, Sweetheart” Katie says softly when she saw your girlfriend’s coming.
“I want to see her” Lia mumbles, looking at Katie.
“I know. Just wait some seconds, ok? Believe me, please. She’s breathing but passed out, they want to clean her wound. And she kind of… Throw up. They say it’s because of the shock.”
A little far from you, the other injured player is standing but have a bag of ice against her head. But she’s up, unlike you. Lia watches Katie washes her hand and let a sob out before talking.
“I knew something bad would happen, I told her. It can’t be happening again.”
“Lia stop, it’s not your fault.”
But before she can explain why it actually is, the medical team is moving you off the pitch. They put you on a stretcher and Lia could now have a full look on you. You’re still off, a massive bandage around your head and some blood is still on your face.
“I’m going with her” Lia informs Jonas.
The man is a little surprised, usually Lia is the one of all her player who will listen to him without a second thought. But right now, he saw the despair on Lia’s face and know right away that he can ask her to finish the game.
“We’ll bring you your stuff” Leah says.
Kyra gives Lia her jacket to keep her warm and with that the Swiss woman is following you until you are in the ambulance. They put you on monitor and gave a call to the hospital to say that you are coming. You’re still not up and they want to make some tests to know and understand why.
At the hospital, a sweet nurse takes Lia in the waiting room, offering her a coffee. Lia takes it, but when Katie, Leah and Caitlin are here, her cup is still full. Katie put your bags next to Lia on the ground and Leah sits next to Lia, kissing her head. Caitlin looks unsure about what to do though. She came because she wanted to be there for Katie and for Lia too, but with their past, she doesn’t know if Lia wants her here.
They exchanged a look though and Lia just nod in direction of a free chair next to Katie. With a small smile, Caitlin sits next to Katie, taking her hand is hers.
“What did they say?” Leah asks.
“Almost nothing. They are making tests and x-ray to see how her injury is. She didn’t wake up, Lee.”
Lia doesn’t want to cry. She really doesn’t. But she can’t stop the tears from rolling on her cheeks. Big, hot tears. Feeling her heart breaking for her friend, Leah takes her against her and let Lia put her head on her shoulder.
“It’s going to be ok” Leah mumbles.
Some time pass, hours actually, and Lia almost fall asleep on Leah’s shoulder from exhaustion. But she jumps every time, trying not to. Even if the three other girls told them that they will wake her up. Lia rings your parents instead, even if she doesn’t have anything good to say to them.
“Family of Y/N Y/L/N?”
“It’s me. I mean it’s us”
Lia jumps on her legs and almost run to the doctor. He looks at the four girls with an arched brow.
“Are you all her family?”
“This is her girlfriend” Katie answers almost aggressively.
Caitlin takes discreetly her hand in hers, trying to calm her girlfriend. The doctor sighs but add nothing, looking back at his papers.
“So, we made some test to understand her injury better. She doesn’t have anything broken or blood inside, but she has a massive concussion. We don’t know when she will wake up and she will obviously staying here all the time she needs to wake up. Maybe she will have some repercussions, but we can’t say anything right now.”
“What do you mean, repercussions?”
Leah asks for Lia, who seems very close to a nervous break down.
“Loss of memory, attention disorders, chronic headaches, nausea” he starts to list with a disinterested air. “Language and visualization in space disorders, change of behavior, character... Well, you know. All that. I have to go I’m sorry, ask the nurse if you need anything”
It’s with a defeat face that Lia turns herself in the direction of her friends. They all look stunned, but no one know what to say.
“How am I supposed to tell that to her parents?” Lia whispers before realizing something else. “He didn’t even say if we can see her!”
“Let me see if I can find someone.”
Caitlin left to find a nurse and when she comes back almost five minutes later, the three others are in the same disposition.
“I will take you to Y/N, ok Love?”
It’s the same nurse that gave Lia some coffee before, and the Swiss woman just nod, following her in the floors of the hospital. They don’t say anything before being in front of your room.
“Four is a little too much but for now I will let you in. But please, be quiet, ok?”
They all nod, before going in and Lia can’t stop some tears from falling. You seem so small in this bed with all the monitors around you. They change your bandage so it’s not bloody anymore. But you have a black eye and the cocky smile you usually have on your face is gone.
Lia lets herself fall on the chair who is the closest from you, taking her head in her hands.
“The doctor said that she will have like trouble of memories and language when she will wake up” Katie says to the nurse.
She frowns at her, before rolling her eyes.
“Those are some possibilities, but they are very rare and it usually happens when the concussion isn’t healed fast. Y/N had professional who were here for her immediately, the risks are very small. They exist, that’s for sur. But don’t think about it now.”
The nurse’s statements allow Lia to breathe a little better. Her muscles remain very tense when Leah puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Lia gets closer to you while the other three are busy warning the people you are closest to, while the nurse (Lydia, like her tag says) left the room after asking them not to stay to long at four people.
“Hey Love” Lia whispers, her chin on the mattress next to your face. “It’s me. I know you are hurt and I’m really sorry. Take the time you need to get better, but please, please, come back to me.”
********
It was hard for your friends to make Lia leaves you, even for some hours and even if someone else is here to have a look on you. She’s terrified that something could happened to you while she’s not here. Or that you wake up all alone in your room. They managed to take her at least once a day off anyway, so that she can take a shower and change her clothes.
Lia is currently sitting on the same chair, making some Sudoku she stole from Leah, when she hears you mumble something. She almost falls of her chair in her precipitation to have a look at you. You already moved a little this morning, but you were still deep asleep.
“Love? Can you hear me?” Lia whispers.
It takes you all your strength to open your eyes, the intensity of the light immediately making your head hurt.
“Lia?”
After that there are some noises and movements around you. Lia called the nurses, and your mother came back running in the room. But Lia never left your hand, and this is what helps you to stay focus.
After Lia helped you to drink some water, the doctor comes to you with his flashlight to look at your eyes. The light makes you groan in pain and Lia mumble something in Swiss-German that the doctor should be happy not to understand.
“How are you feeling Y/N?” he asks you.
“Tired” you mumble hardly.
“Yes, that’s normal. You will be for some more days.”
He keeps talking but you can’t focus anymore. Squeezing very weakly Lia’s hand around yours, you fall asleep again.
Days are passing and you get better, but really slowly. The first days, you can barely open your eyes. You felt more than you saw Lia, your parents and Katie’s presence next to you. It seems like your girlfriend is always here when you open your eyes, looking way to worried for your taste.
With more days, you can stay awake a little bit longer, but you can’t have a big conversation. You listen and look lovingly at Lia, smile at Katie when she tells you real-life training stories through exaggerated gestures and you let your mother washing your hair when they change your bandage, something she probably never have done since you are two.
You did more tests too and the only problems you seem to have now, is a constant need to sleep and difficulty to keep focus. But Lydia told you that it would probably get better with time. The club made a statement about your case, and you let them handle that, trusting them with all your being.
********
“I have a good new, Y/N” sings Lydia when she comes to your room that day. “You can go home today.”
Lia smiles and you frowns. You don’t want to be something difficult to manage to Lia, you are not living together but you know that you will need someone to take care of you for some days.
“Isn’t it too soon?” your mother asks.
“I don’t think so. She has great results for the tests, get better every day and I’m sure that Lia here will take great care of her.”
She winks at you and Lia and you smirk when you see that Lia is blushing a little. Your mother can’t say anything against that, she knows perfectly how much you mean to Lia. And how much she means to you.
“I will come back with the fills to signs, the different prescriptions and everything you will need. Take your time to be ready, yeah?”
You nod and your mother takes her phone from her purse.
“I’m going to call your dad.”
It’s like the first time that you find yourself all alone with Lia. And you take advantage of that to ask her the question that is on your mind.
“Are you sure? It probably will be complicated and with the trainings and all…”
“I am sure, Y/N. Don’t worry, really. I will take great care of you, like Lydia says. We can go to your house if you want… Well, it would probably be better that way, you don’t have stairs like I do.”
You look at her rumble, your head against the cushion. You have your cocky smirk back and Lia realize it immediately of course.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing. I’m just lucky to have you. And I love you.”
She gives you her shy, beautiful smile back and takes you very softly against her. Even if you only have a head injury, she looks sometimes like she thinks you have broken ribs or something. Which you don’t.
“I love you too.”
She kisses lovingly your forehead, and you tilt your head in your direction, pouting. It makes her roll her eyes but she complied, kissing your lips softly. After that, she put her forehead against yours, looking deep in your eyes.
“You don’t know how much I am relieved that you are ok. I don’t know what I would have done if…”
With a finger on her lips, you make her be silent. She already excuses herself the other day, affirming that your injury was because of her. Because of her feeling that day and you already told her that this is stupid.
“Lia, stop. I am fine and I will be even better thanks to you. Please stop thinking that way.”
You are still very weak to be honest and you will have to take a wheelchair to left the hospital. You slept the journey to go to your house and fall asleep again after taking a proper shower with Lia’s help.
But you will get better and eight weeks after your injury, you are back on the pitch, stronger than ever.
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earthtooz · 8 months
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x : HEART LIKE YOURS :*+゚
in which: rin is drunk and incredibly infatuated with you. so much so, that he wonders what he did to deserve someone like you.
warnings: 1.1k wc fluff, minor angst, rin is a little insecure + fully drunk, he definitely has fallen harder for you btw, gn!reader, isagi cameo, deep metaphors or whatever idk i'm writing this depraved of itoshi rin.
a/n: kaneshiro bring rin to me this instant or i will go wild.
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Itoshi Rin is in love. He is so in love that it makes him feel sick and woozy and dazed and he doesn’t know when the world will be able to stop spinning on itself, but somehow, his feet have taken him to your apartment. Excitement rests at the bottom of his stomach at the prospect of seeing you, yet a locked door is the only barricade that prevents him from seeing you, and Rin wonders if it was rational of him to kick it down. 
Just to see you, beautiful, enchanting, flawless you. What would you be doing at 1am on a Friday night- or is it Saturday morning? 
“Oh, hey guys.” Your voice echoes through his mind, sounding distant yet so close at the same time that it causes him to look up from the floor. Although his vision is hazy and his eyes are a minute away from drooping closed completely, he sees through the thick of it. You are clear and radiant in the centre of his attention, just as you always are. 
Before he can spout the words that his lovesick heart longs to express, a voice beside him interrupts, sounding like someone similar to Isagi. Rin thinks he should shut his mouth because how could he care about stupid, lukewarm Isagi when you’re right in front of him, though? 
“He’s drunk and asking for you,” Isagi excuses. 
“I’m not drunk,” pours from Rin’s mouth instead, grumbled and petulant. He hears a giggle slip from you and instantly, his gaze returns to you, owl-like and unwavering.
“Come on in then, thank you for bringing him here, Isagi,” you say and Rin vaguely feels himself moving into your space. Your scent floods into his senses to give him a rush of euphoria; a sensation that only intensifies when he hears the door click close and feels your hands run through his hair.
He’s on your couch, slumped over your pillows, melting into your touch, and devastatingly in love as the manifestation of all his affections and desires stands in front of him, blissfully unaware of the turbulence in his heart. Do you know? Do you know what you do to him? How you make his heart beat with enough might to light up the city? How he finds himself tripping over his own feet just to make sure that it’s him by your side and not some other lukewarm idiot?
“Rin, wake up,” your voice gently breathes and like sheep, he can’t do anything but obey. “Looks like you had a big night. Are you tired, baby?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, deceivingly apathetic as your hand settles on his cheek. Here, you push him a little to look at you, displaying his flushed face and slightly-flattened hair to you. 
“Don’t fall asleep on me just yet, gotta make sure you’re not too intoxicated.”
The athlete persists, “I’m not drunk.” I’m happy, he thinks. 
“I’m so sure,” you laugh him and his love off and a part of him lurches with the need to prove it to you. “I’ll get some water, sit tight and I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t leave me behind,” Rin demands, voice sounding out like a whine, much to his chagrin because he very much means it. But you’re laughing and you don’t think that he’s being serious. You’re laughing whilst he’s practically tearing at the seams, unable to hold back the love he feels for you lest it drowns him. 
“I’ll be gone for ten seconds top.”
“Ten seconds too long,” retaliates the sulky dark-haired. “I don’t need water, I need you.” 
When Rin is drunk, the alcohol fills him with courage to say things that he never could have otherwise. If he could see straight without needing to concentrate on doing so, he would have witnessed the dumbstruck smile on your face, completely and utterly enamoured with the cold and calculating soccer player. 
If someone had told you that the Itoshi Rin would be acting like a fool on your couch in the future, you would have laughed in their face and walked off. Yet it seems like you’re the fool now.
“Saying you don’t need water is a bit of an exaggeration. Just let me get you a cup and I’ll be right back.”
Rin’s hand latches on to your wrist, so strong and unrelenting that he doesn’t know why you don’t pull yourself away from him, to put space in between you and something so wretched, but he doesn’t complain as his thumb caresses your bone. “I’ll come with you then.”
“You won’t.”
“I will.”
“You won’t.”
He is stupid enough to stand up, determined and alive, whilst you’re panicked and worried, exclaiming at Rin to sit back down and not be so brash. You manage to placate him when you tell him that you won’t leave and instead, take the spot next to him on the couch, legs pressed together whilst his hand still encompasses yours.
Oh, to be with you til the end of time. 
“I take it that you had a good time with the boys tonight?” You ask, making small talk to kill the time. “Seems like you went quite overboard.”
“I’m better now that I’m with you,” he hiccups, blinking slowly as his gaze never falters from you. “Prefer you… over some idiots.”
You laugh, throwing your head back against the cushions and Rin wishes he had a camera to capture this moment and tuck it in the crevices of his heart. 
Truthfully, Rin had gone out tonight to soothe the heartache that your love for him made him feel, for what had he done to deserve it? He has you in his life and he finds that the most remarkable feat, above all his trophies, numerous World-Class achievements, and other accomplishments that make him the famous Itoshi Rin. Falling for you was as natural as scoring a goal, but you choosing him was not. 
Itoshi Rin is unpleasant. All bite, sneers, and crude language with no softness to mould space for anyone to come into his life- until you. But what is stopping you from finding someone else who could do that too? Not only that, but could do it better than him? 
“I love you.”
It’s a soft confession, not at all dramatic or showy as the three words diminish in the atmosphere. The fleetingness causes something restless to settle deep in Rin’s gut, thrashing and wild because the magnitude of his affection for you could never be expressed in merely three words. However, the way your eyes light up will forever be ingrained in his mind as you whisper back a soft ‘I love you, too’, taming the turmoil with overwhelming ease. 
Then, the best thing ever happens: you throw your arms around him, warming him inside out with your touch. Naturally, the athlete circles himself around you too and he fears the day that he has to let go, but until that moment comes, his heart rests peacefully with you.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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bunny-yan · 1 month
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(Apologies if I accidentally misread & requests are closed - English is my 2nd language 😳)
Please, I'm begging, please - requesting a story with Idris and a fem!y/n. Where y/n finds out they are pregnant with Idris's child & their overprotective instincts go into overdrive & they say "I'm escaping, no way is my child going to be raised with that monster!"
yan!king x fem!preg!reader TW: unbalanced relationship dynamics, mentions violence, mentions death, infantilization, domestic abuse, minors DNI
You puked in the toilet, grateful that no one was around to see the upheaval of what you had just had for lunch. It was hard to hold it down as he spoke. Your face was most likely tight, and your smile was more of a grimace as you fought to maintain a neutral expression, but the moment you were released to do what you wanted, you all but ran to your room to release the contents in your stomach.
Attempting to back away, your hands slapped the edge of the toilet bowl as you felt your body lurch once again before you were gagging and food was expelling itself from your body like a plague. 
Worried thoughts crawled over you. 
Did you remember to lock the door? If someone came in to witness this, how would you convince them that nothing was wrong? Convince them not to call the doctor to give further proof of what you didn’t want to believe. Of what you didn’t want to find out. 
You were pregnant. 
All the signs were there, but you ignored them. You closed your eyes and prayed to the Mother that it was a trick of the mind, a figment of your imagination. Your period was late because it just does that sometimes. You would get it. Even if two days, two weeks, a month passed by with no sign. This sickness was just a bug you caught from spoiled food. Even if it came no matter what you ate. 
You told yourself whatever you needed to rationalize the situation. You weren’t hiding your symptoms from the maids or from Idris for any particular reason. You just didn’t want them to worry about it. About you. It would pass, and everything would be alright. 
But it was harder to convince yourself of that as time passed, as you thought of what his expression would look like when you began to wear baggier clothes until your stomach swelled to the point where you couldn’t hide it anymore. When you felt kicks that would give you an undeniable sign of the life growing within you. When it was too late. 
You didn’t want to get pregnant. 
Not by him. Not now. Especially not here. 
Not with maids who treated you as if you should be grateful to your lover. The lover who showered you in gold and gifts. The lover who would go to any lengths to please you. The same lover who murdered your family and reminded you of it anytime you tried to pull away from him. It was your fault, he would whisper despite giving the order. 
His interest was your fault. His obsession, his tyranny, and the consequences if you didn’t answer every whim with unflinching obedience would always be your fault. And this child would be the icing on top of your shackled cake. . 
You couldn’t imagine Idris as a loving father. Not a true one, anyway. Not when he’d killed everyone you held dear and his own father when he couldn’t have his way. He would smile at your child, hold them, laugh, beautiful and radiant as he always was, but the moment you stepped out of line it was their life he would use to threaten you. 
He’d mentioned making the mistake of taking everyone you held dear too quickly because he no longer had anyone to threaten you with. The only remorse he felt was his own short-sightedness that you didn’t remain docile for as long as he’d hoped. 
And you could only imagine the eyes. 
They’d follow you up and down the corridor, their whispers traveling to cut your ears no matter how fast you’d waddle, walk, or run. 
A bastard child, they would call it. 
An abomination. 
They would claim the father came from unknown origins despite knowing no one would be brave or stupid enough to touch you, knowing the punishment in store if the King ever found out. But it wasn’t you, you were worried about. 
You could only imagine their fake smiles, plastered as they cooed at your baby before their expressions melted into disgust, calling you an upstart and your child an unlovable leech. Their words would pander for approval even as they plotted to destroy you the first moment they got. It was the same people who would comfort you if something ever happened to your child, knowing full well that the blood was on their hands. The same people who would laugh as they washed their hands of assassination attempts, tying up loose ends so things would never be traced back to them. A rival faction, a jealous maid, any and every excuse valid except those pointed in their direction. 
You couldn’t do it. 
You couldn’t stay knowing the kind of life you would be raising your child into. You couldn’t stand to see them look at their father with love and admiration despite the things he did and was still doing with unflinching ease. You couldn’t bear to see them grow up to become just like them—like him. 
You didn’t want to see the look in his eyes when he found out. 
You didn’t want to know if shock would turn into joy that would morph into raving glee at his new bargaining chip. Or if he didn’t care for an addition to your disjointed family. Choosing to feed you drugs that would take care of the problem quietly or allow you to have the child raised out of sight to strengthen his political standing. 
How lucky you were to want for nothing. 
But you wanted to give this child a normal life. A happy one, full of unadulterated laughter. You didn’t want this child walking on eggshells, torn between temporary peace or isolated happiness. It wasn’t something you could offer here. 
Your child had the chance to live in a luxury that not many others could even hope to dream about, but you would run as far away from it as possible if it meant they didn’t have to learn that all things that shined weren’t gold. That their father, the king, was a monster hiding behind sweet words and a smile. They wouldn’t learn that love required obedience. That affection, consideration, and care were only reciprocal for those of value. 
You had to run. While you still could, you had to run. 
Idris would be angry. There was no doubt in your mind that he would try to drag you back, treat you like a stupid, troubled thing that didn’t understand what you were doing. A foolish mistake was all he would amount your disappearance to before attempting to placate you with false promises or violent threats, whichever worked, but that didn’t matter. 
He hadn’t noticed that anything had changed; at least, you hoped he didn’t. You’d slowly been gathering things he wouldn’t miss if they suddenly disappeared to barter with when you finally escaped, and now was the perfect time to collect your stash and escape on a random afternoon. 
You almost felt bad for the maids who would have to deal with his anger when he found out that you were missing, but then again, they never seemed to care, no matter how many bandages covered your body after one of his fits of rage. Some of them went so far as to lock the door so they wouldn’t have to hunt you down and drag you back to his mistreatment. 
Dragging yourself from the bathroom floor, you flushed the toilet as you wiped the side of your mouth. Placing a hand on your stomach, you couldn’t help but clench it into a fist. 
Your bleeding heart would dry up. 
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ayaboba · 4 months
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I GUESS IT WAS UNAVOIDABLE
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summary: turns out you got a cold - not to worry, your boyfriend is here!
characters: alhaitham, diluc, kazuha, wanderer.
notes: new year, new theme. wc: 1.2k total, gn! reader, petnames, angsty in diluc but it fades into fluff, thought i was real funny in wanderer’s, you’re sick.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist
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alhaitham
“Don’t look at me like that.”
You shoot him a stern look alongside your words, taking a generous sip of the warm honey water swirling in your favourite mug. Its comforting warmth immediately eases the sharp pain in your throat down to a low throb, as its aftertaste proves sweeter than the concoction yesterday night.
Alhaitham assesses you from the foot of your shared bed, his face a mixture of contemplative, exasperated, and amused. How rare, your predicament must be concerning enough to expand Alhaitham's devastatingly frugal palette of emotions. What an honour.
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” he mutters, letting out an exasperated sigh. “It’s up to your interpretation of how I look at you, actually.”
Despite his sharp tongue and the knowledge that he’s pickpocketed this debate, leaving you nothing but suffocating gloom, the anxious face staring upon yours shows nothing but genuine worry.
“Your fever is easing,” Alhaitham notes, his voice trailing off as he watches your body shake from a particularly violent cough. “Although, I strongly suggest that you go back to sleep.”
If the cold hadn’t snatched your usual, more energised self, leaving this crippling state equivalent to lying on your deathbed (it really wasn't), then you wouldn’t have second’s hesitation in replying with a sharp response contrasting whatever Alhaitham just said.
But right now, with the decorative array of warm lights illuminating the room, it casts a spell on your tired senses as the slow song of sleep cradles you away.
diluc
No amount of your most persuasive chants is able to coax that stupid idea away from him.
Dawn Winery was one of the many sponsors for Monstadt’s annual winter markets, an exquisite yearly event composing of streets after streets lined with cosy stalls lit with soft fairy lights, late nights sprinkled with the frosty taste of freshly fallen snow as everyone stayed up as late as the moon’s guidance, laughter and cheer dancing through the night.
Wasn’t it only obvious that the stall’s demand was going to skyrocket?
Wasn’t it obvious that you would think of assisting, even if it led to seeing the cracks of dawn?
That’s what you argued earlier, about twenty minutes ago, as if you were more concerned with his rationality than your spiralling fatigue. Which, to be frank, you were.
His hand was intertwined with yours, desperately tight, strong like the gaze falling from those eyes, rimmed with the reasoning for empty tissue boxes. Those hands were squeezing an ailment into the emptiness of your veins, leaving his desolate. And that’s when you snapped. How could he give it his all if he gave it all away?
Even when you cried, even when you yelled, even when you were on the verge of giving up, Diluc never once faltered; he adapted each time to defy what gnawed you, and perhaps he will go with these silent battles to win the golden hope restorative for you both.
Midnight. That same hand clambers up, searching for yours, finally finding it and squeezing it once, for you. Only this time you squeeze it back, twice.
kazuha
Those lacy curtains awaken a myriad of joyous senses, the strengthening sunshine warmly caressing the surface of your skin, leaving a glistening glow, while the tickling breeze drifts away the last of your drowsiness through the window.
What a beautiful day, you notice as you stretch the aching muscles in your neck and shoulders. The simple sight of sunshine releases a blossoming feeling of positivity that is likely going to be engraved into the roots of your day.
As you finish up with the basic stretches and shuffle on to tackle your shared bed, taking the covers in hand and connecting them to their respective corners, something on your bedside table catches your eye.
You were mere thoughts away from the impending decision to investigate, and this part you’d like to blame Kazuha for his chosen timing to start prepping breakfast.
Not just any typical breakfast, you might add. Your favourite.
It’s instantly recognisable from the first delicate wafts seeping into the bedroom. And it’s not exactly an exaggeration when you admit that your body and mind halted. Completely ceased, flabbergasted personified.
That peculiar guest on your nightstand was all forgotten the moment you stepped foot into the kitchen.
“Good morning, sunshine,” a particular poet smiles over as you take a seat opposite the counter.
“Feeling better? I left the last of your cough medication on your bedside table so you’d remember to take it.”
He passes the plate, the masterpiece of the morning by far, almost too perfect to eat.. but then it all comes flooding in. Starting off with a few waves in the form of muffled words, and then the tsunami hits, the biggest wave, the recollection of memories.
"Ah..." is all you reply with.
Kazuha lets out a good-natured chuckle, subtly surveying you as he does. “Well, it doesn’t look like you need it, anyway.”
wanderer
One of the most eminent traits about your boyfriend was his determination—no, stubbornness—when it came to things that really shouldn’t concern him, especially if they sincerely nettled him so much. So simple that it confounded you why it never occurred to him to try and mind his own business for once. You frequently muttered under your breath how his behaviour reminded you of some toxic grandma living down the street.
Additionally, he should consider that you’re a human. A human who experienced things every other human did, for example, colds. Inevitable and terrible, but everyone had them.
Therefore, he shouldn’t treat it too seriously.
Yet here he is, sleeping in the same bed, under the same covers, just a ghost of a touch away. Promptly declining your polite request that he should spend the night in the spare bedroom as you felt particularly sniffly and probably needed a tissue permanently attached to your nose for the night.
Sleep was playing an eternal game of tag, teasing you. You don’t know what time it is, but it must be late. You’ve finished many seasons of your delusional scenarios and are now left bare of anything to entertain until dreams pulled you into its whirlpools.
The rims of your eyes water as you attempt to hold in that itching cough, blinking the tears back, but it felt like a million deluxe feathers each performing acrobatics in your throat.
“You should probably let out that cough. You’re starting to look like you’re having a breakdown.”
With more strength than anticipated, you snap to face him, but not after letting out that wheezing cough that more or less rearranges your skeletal structure. His pretty face nodding sombrely into yours.
“I’m fine,” you burst.
“And I’m the Dendro Archon,” he acknowledged, passing you a tissue. “Have you not slept at all?”
“It’s playing a game of tag,” you sniff, with a tone that conveyed, you’re not going to get it.
“Just run faster,” he recommended, pulling you into his chest before you even have the chance to process what he just said.
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h4ndwr1tten · 9 months
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𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?
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characters — nanami kento x reader
note — i'm so sorry this came out so late. if you didn't see my other posts, i mentioned that i basically rewrote this bc the original was so bad, and then i went on vacation. it's still kinda bad i'm sorry. dividers by benkeibear.
cw — not proofread (is anything i write even proofread?), established relationship, kinda ooc nanami, pregnancy, few mentions of sex, mentions of birth control, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, a lot of crying, sappy shit, angst, hurt/comfort. lmk if i missed any!
synopsis — after a hellish week caused by a misunderstanding and sickening fear, you decide you'd had enough of not speaking to your boyfriend and reveal your secret.
part 1 | part 2
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for the past week, you've noticed that nanami had been taking on longer shifts than normal. in fact, it wasn't normal, because if there was one thing he absolutely hated in this world, it was working overtime. he'd leave for the school early, sometimes before you'd wake up, and come home past dinner or when you were already in bed. what was even more surprising (and hurtful) to you was that he was taking more time out of his day to put up with gojo satoru and his antics, rather than be around you.
you knew he was avoiding you. it was quite obvious, and nanami made no effort to hide it either. during the now short amounts of time he was home, he barely spoke and looked at you. this must have been what it felt like to him on that night, you realized.
you also knew that nanami would come around and talk to you. or, at least, you hoped he would. you knew him like no other—your boyfriend was a rational man who always thought things carefully and through. you convinced yourself that he was still upset and in need of space to think about that night, and maybe even what you were up to during that. maybe he was thinking of the possibility of you seeing someone else, having feelings for someone who wasn't him. by letting him ignoring you, you believed you were giving him the time and space he needed.
throughout the week, your pregnancy symptoms had become more prominent. you also found out that your birth control expired, which explained why you had gotten pregnant. you felt stupid for not checking the date. you began experiencing morning sickness, strange cravings, fatigue, even mood swings. but nanami wasn't there to see it happen. he'd already be at the school when you would be hunched over the toilet. he'd be on his lunch break while you'd be eating ice cream topped with pickles. you would be asleep half the time he was gone, which would help prevent the overthinking you faced while you were awake. you would be elated to hear him come home, but then tear up right after when you realized it would be another night without hearing his voice, without feeling his arms around you.
everyday you thought of revealing to him that you were pregnant with his child. and everyday, you thought of how he might be enraged and leave you for good. but despite the stomach churning fear you had, you were desperate to hear him speak to you. desperate to be held and kissed by him, to be looked at as if you were the most ethereal being in the world. you were desperate to hear nanami tell you he loves you, and always will.
after long thought and contemplation, debating with yourself about whether to confess or not, you came to a conclusion. you had had enough of this distance between you and the man you loved. tonight, when he came home, you were going to tell him the truth.
you were exhausted. you felt like if you blinked once, your eyes wouldn't open for another 9 hours. but you had to stay up. you were waiting on nanami to walk through the door.
and luckily for you, he did. you heard the faint click of the lock followed by soft footsteps padding into the kitchen, where you were waiting with a plate of food for him.
nanami took one brief glance at you before looking back down, not bothering to greet you. you inhaled deeply, weakly fighting back tears.
"hi, ken," you started nervously. he didn't reply, but he began to occupy himself with the mail you left out on the counter, telling you that he was listening.
"i made you food," you continued, "but it might be a little cold. i made it earlier but you didn't—"
"i already ate, thank you," nanami cut you off, not meeting your eyes.
"oh."
your heart began to beat erratically, and tears began to flood your eyes. you kept thinking to yourself that he's upset, and for all he knows you might be cheating on him. you reminded yourself why you were doing this, and that you had to push through if you wanted this misunderstanding to end.
"how was your day?" you asked shakily, opening your eyes despite the tears that were still there.
your heart sunk lower when you saw that he was making his way to the bedroom, and you swore it cracked when you hear the barely there "good" and a door shutting.
with your elbows propped on the counter and keeping your trembling frame up, you buried your face in your hands. this went much smoother in your head. you imagined nanami to have accepted the dinner you made him, take a bite of it at the least, and let you talk to him. but he was refusing to let down this cold front he kept up around you. you were beginning to have second thoughts about telling him.
but you couldn't keep hiding it, you knew that. so, wiping away any stray tears and taking a few deep breaths in, you made your way to the bedroom.
you found nanami on the bed, already dressed in his pajamas and hair free of any product. his glasses were set neatly on the nightstand and his phone was in his hand. nanami wasn't the kind of person to be addicted to his phone, and even though you've been going through it for a while now, him not paying you any mind and more attention to his phone was painful.
"ken," you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady.
without craning his neck, nanami looked up at you with his eyebrow raised. he seemed tired, exasperated, and looked as though he didn't want to talk but just wanted to get it over with.
"can we talk? please?" your voice was thick with emotion, the please coming out softer and cracking.
nanami sighed before tossing his phone onto the bed. he finally, for the first time in days, looked at you and held your gaze expectantly.
"go on."
letting out a breath you didn't know you held in, you began slowly, "i am so... so, so sorry, kento. i know i hurt you and i made you believe that i would see someone else. and i'm not, i promise you. i could never love anyone else the way i love you."
nanami's eyes softened, and you could practically feel the worries of you cheating dissipate from him.
"so what was with you night?" nanami asked, the most he's ever said to you so far.
you almost choked on a sob when you realized what you had to do next.
"o-okay, uh... while you were at work, i found something out," you basically whispered. there was no need for extra details. you were getting straight to the point.
slowly, you turned to the dresser behind you and reached for your purse. your hands shook violently as you dug inside for the piece of plastic that made your life a living hell this past week. as you clutched it tightly in your hand, knuckles whitening, you closed your eyes and tilted your head up. you couldn't control the tears any longer, and the sobs were growing harder to keep down.
"love?"
the name caused a whimper to escape you. you inhaled shakily, trying to reduce your crying before turning around with the test results hidden behind your palm. as you walked towards nanami, you felt as though this was the last time you would ever see him, speak to him, and be around him.
with a quivering hand, you hand him the test.
"i'm so, so sorry," you whisper.
nanami flipped the test over, his eyes scanning every inch of the device. it took him a few seconds to realize what it was, and by the way his eyes widened and expression contorted into one of shock, you knew he had seen the results.
and when he didn't say anything, you swore your heart had actually broken.
"i'm sorry," you repeated through a heavy sob, no longer able to keep in your cries.
you turned around, back faced to nanami as you continued to cry into your hands. the lack of response was a response in itself, you believed. you knew it was over. you knew you were going to have to pack all your things, find somewhere else to stay, and raise this child alone.
that is, until you felt a gentle hand on your waist and a quiet voice behind you say, "y/n, look at me. please."
so you did, hesitantly. you turned back around and peeled your hands away from your tear stained face, but avoided eye contact, or even looking at his face. keeping your head down, you were afraid of what you would see, or of what you would read.
then both hands came to your cheeks, cupping them carefully and tilting your head up. your eyes met his, and instead of finding the anger you were expecting, you found comfort and understanding.
"is it mine?" he asked first, likely to confirm that you hadn't been with anyone else.
"yes," you replied without hesitating. "kento, it's only ever buh—been you."
he nodded, believing you completely. he began wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs, even though more would fall every time he wiped at them.
"y/n, why didn't you tell me sooner?" nanami whispered. he wasn't angry with you, however. just a bit hurt and curious.
"because, kento!" your voice coming out steadier than expected. "you have your whole life planned out. you have goals and dreams and you know what you want in life. i couldn't, i can't ruin that for you."
"and i was scared, ken. i was scared that you'd get mad and leave me and that you wouldn't want anything to do with our kid. and—and maybe i'm selfish for not telling you, maybe i'm selfish for hiding something so important, so life changing, and maybe that makes me a bad girlfriend. but i couldn't let you go like that. i love you too much to do that."
nanami now had watery eyes at your confession. despite still feeling a bit upset at the fact that you had kept this from him, he fully understood and didn't hold it against you. and despite already knowing, he even felt elated to hear that you loved him so dearly.
"y/n," he sighed, "i would never, ever get mad at you for this."
you froze, sniffling and looking up at him. the curiosity in your eyes urging him to go on.
"you becoming pregnant wasn't—isn't on you. this was mostly caused by me," nanami said, hoping it would ease and erase the feeling of everything being your fault.
"but i was stupid and didn't realize my birth control was expired," you replied.
"even if, y/n. we both did this, we both had sex, we are both in this together. this is our child."
"i know that, ken," you sighed, hiccuping shortly after.
"then you do know that since this is a result of both our actions, i will be there for you, for us? there is no way in hell i would leave you for getting pregnant, i'm the one who got you pregnant in the first place. yes, this is life changing. yes, i have goals, i have plans for the future—for our future. because every time i think about it, you are there. it doesn't matter if our timing isn't right, it doesn't matter if we aren't married yet. i am extremely confident that one day, i'll put a ring on your finger and we will spend eternities together, with this child. do you understand, y/n, love?"
his ramble was so sweet and so genuine, just as all his other rambles were. no matter the situation, whether you'd be feeling insecure or you both got into an argument, nanami never failed to reassure you and make you feel better. they were waves of relief and comfort, like sudden shelter from pouring rain. like being bundled up in blankets and full of warmth after shivering for so long. like a breath of fresh, cool air after a steamy shower.
like nanami telling you that everything was alright, and no matter how tough the situation felt, he would stand by you.
"yes," you breathed, "i understand."
"good," nanami whispered back.
still holding your face in his hands, he pulled you towards him and planted a lingering kiss on your forehead, and then a peck before removing one hand from your face and down to your hip. nanami squeezed you gently and walked you both to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling you into his lap. he slid his arm around your middle, then moved the hand still on your face to the back of your head and gently guided you to the crook of his neck. you wrapped your own arms over his shoulders and squeezed him tight, the way he was doing you. you continued to pour out whatever remaining feelings of sadness and relief, quietly sniffling and whimpering into his neck, all the while nanami would softly rub up and down your back, occasionally patting, combing his fingers through your hair and scalp, and whispering sweet nothings and reassuring affirmations into your ear. leaving sweet kisses around your face, into your hair, on your shoulder.
when your cries died down and all that was left were hiccups, you quietly muttered, "i'm sorry for doubting you and thinking you'd leave."
"shh, don't apologize," nanami assured you. "i understand. i'm sorry i thought you were seeing someone else, and i am truly sorry for giving you the cold shoulder and not talking things out with you like an adult. i was hurt and afraid to face the truth, but i realize i was wrong. do you forgive me?"
pulling away from his neck, you looked into his sincere amber eyes, cupping his cheeks. nodding, you answered, "of course."
a small smile graced his lips, followed by a gentle kiss on yours. pulling away, you tilted your head down and rested your forehead on his. both of your eyes shut, your arms squeezing each other in silent reassurance.
"i love you, y/n, and our baby, and this future we're creating together."
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patrickzvveig · 1 year
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The Hunger Games is such an interesting series but I'm always floored by how genuinely good and smart it is. I think it's easy to look back at the absolute nothingness that the YA dystopia genre became and curse out all of its leaders, but The Hunger Games was always a smart and interesting series that even in the first few pages of its first book gripped the reader with possibility.
And I think that's why it continues to be successful and loved in a way that even its popular contemporaries are not. Because there's nothing about the world it takes place that seems strange or impossible, yes even with the child murder games. Katniss tells us that Panem has formed from the ruins of North America, the countries of which ultimately fell due to conflict caused by climate change and lack of resources. Not only is this situation not impossible- it is literally probable, and seems more likely each year we go by the with our leaders pretending the climate crisis is not real. Like North America didn't fall under an evil "foreign power" who took away American (specifically the United States') values. This world wasn't formed over night. It emerged out of the brutality and greed of the world we currently live in.
And even with The Hunger Games as an event, the world still seems so immersed in this reality. It helps that events similar to this have taken place throughout history. The comparison between Rome and the Capitol is not exactly subtle, but it helps ground the Capitol's brutality in a very real history. Using this sort of barbarism as punishment AND entertainment (even to the ones being punished) has happened throughout history, and happens now in ways that are more concealed. Also, the Hunger Games being used as a reminder of the Capitol's control over the districts and a tactic to dissuade rebellion (with the idea that they will be crushed if they try to revolt) MAKES SENSE.
And making sense is why it is so successful. You know what doesn't make sense? Dividing the US into 5 character traits and making people who have more than one *dangerous,* or any of the other strange and contrived plots that came after it in the wake of its success. It works because its possible, and in a sick way, rational. It reminds us that humans can be brutal, and greedy, and evil. But they're not stupid. It's not improbable or even ineffective (for the rich at least) to create this world. class difference MEANS THINGS, and drives the conflict. It's the USA if we keep going down this path and ignore our impending doom.
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mediumgayitalian · 3 months
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“Death Breath! Hey! Wait up!”
Nico bolts. He makes it about ten feet away from his cabin door before Will and his stupid long legs catch up with him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and then immediately tripping over his own foot and sending them both sprawling.
“I hate you,” Nico groans, curling up on the grass.
It’s too early for any of this. He was just trying to get back at Cecil for covering everything he owned in aluminum foil last week — and then he was going to go right the hell back to bed.
He knew he should have fucking shadow travelled.
“Aw, c’mon. You love me.”
Nico pretends to gag. The only thing he gets is Will’s crossed arms and raised eyebrow, so he doubles down and really starts to retch. Whatever. It’s eight thirty in the morning. He fell asleep at five. Rational thinking is a distant, distant memory.
“Whenever you’re done.”
“I will be sick at the thought for the next eight weeks,” Nico informs him. For dramatic effect, he looks up at Will’s face — which he cant even see, since the sun’s in his eyes — and shudders.
“You know, you have a genuine, beautiful talent for the dramatic arts, the likes of which I have never seen. Are you sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”
I better not be, ‘cause then all the staring I do at your calves would be real weird, he thinks to himself, then considers whether he can convince Kayla to give him a lobotomy. He thinks she might like the opportunity.
“Piss off,” he says instead of that, artfully schooling his face into the aristocratic mask he’s perfected from his father, squaring his shoulders and looking at Will like he’s a pebble lodged in the flesh of his heel.
Will rolls his eyes. “Get up, Sharpay Evans. You’re gonna stain your shirt worse than you already have.”
Nico sniffs haughtily. “My shirt is perfectly fine, thank you very much. I order them in black for a reason.”
He notices a giant grass stain on the side when he stands. He ignores it. Will does not.
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the Goth King.”
“Ghost King.”
“Right, right. That helps your case.”
Nico shoves him, fighting back a grin. “Whatever, Solace. What are you bothering me for?”
“Oh, yeah!”
Nico is a deeply cheesy person. Down to the core of him, past all the sarcasm and prickliness and trauma, or whatever, he’s made of fucking mozzarella, because what business does he have comparing Will’s eyes to the morning winter sky? Huh? That’s embarrassing. It isn’t even original. If Nico caught anyone saying shit like that out loud in real life, he’s collapse into the shadows from embarrassment. He needs electroshock therapy.
“I was thinking —”
“Rare,” Nico quips, just to watch Will’s eyebrow twitch. It does. Nico smiles.
“I was thinking,” he repeats, mocking glare in Nico’s direction, “that you and me go to the city this afternoon.”
“You chased me across camp for that?”
“Oh, please, Zombie Face. I chased you maybe twenty yards.”
“I think all that time sniffing rubbing alcohol has deteriorated your brain.”
“I think I’m going to shove you in the lake.”
“Feel free to try. You will not wake up the next morning.”
“Nah.” Will shoots him a smug smile. Nico trips over air. “I can be as annoying as I want and you still won’t kill me. I have impunity.”
Nico rolls his eyes, refusing to dignify that with an answer. The less he acknowledges his own shame, the more likely it will go away on its own. Probably.
“Anyways. Guess what Cecil told me today.”
“His last will and testament?” Nico guesses, suddenly remembering his reason for being up this early.
“No, no, not that.” Will pauses. “Well, I mean, he did. I passed it on to Chiron. He has requested that when you maul him, you avoid his face, because he wants to be a sexy corpse and he can’t do that if you destroy his prettiest features.”
“Noted. Please inform him I will come for him within a window of the next fifteen hours.”
Theres a very particular face Will makes when he finds something genuinely funny. A smile a little more crooked than his regular one, teeth working at his bottom lip to hold it back, left dimple appearing in his cheek. It makes Nico want to do stupid things like press his thumb into said divot. He instead shoves his hands deeply into his pockets.
“I’ll let him know.” He clears his throat. “Anyways. You know what day it is today?”
Nico squints. “Tues…day? No, Wednesday.” He glances at Will. It’s been maybe….three days since their weekly sleepover? No, fuck, four. He thinks. “Thursday. Final answer.”
“Monday,” Will corrects, “and, gods, you need to sleep more. And a calendar. But no, that’s not my point.”
“Feel free to get to it.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Will finally explains. He tries for exasperated, but it doesn’t work — he’s clearly excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waving his hands. “And The Five Seasons is doing half off for couples, so you and I need to go!”
He waves his hands, as if tying off some grand reveal. His (blue blue blue blue) eyes are squeezed nearly shut by the force of his beam, which lessons slightly with every second Nico does not respond.
“William,” he says finally. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “William.”
Will pouts. “What?”
“Explain how this is relevant to me, William.”
“Aw, c’mon, Nico! Don’t be difficult!”
“William,” stresses Nico again. “We are not a couple. Did you hit your head again?”
“Well, duh, Neeks, it’s about the scam!” He flaps his hand in a way Nico assumes is meant to convey something. “We’re gonna — eat! Cheap! By pretending to be a couple!” Now both hands are flopping, paired with wide, imploring eyes. “Obviously!”
“Obviously,” Nico repeats, slowly. He instructs one half of his brain to keep its focus on not melting into a puddle of blushing embarrassed goo, and the other to exercise restraint and not strangle the boy in front of him. A headache begins to press behind his eyes. “Will, what the shit.”
“You of all people!” Will throws his hands up. “You love scamming people! You hate corporate holidays! You frequently throw pebbles at people who look, and I quote, too obnoxiously happy! You’re the best hater I know! You should be on board!”
He makes a compelling point. Not that Nico is going to make that easy for him.
“You seem very invested in this,” Nico points out. He manages to keep his voice tastefully judgmental, which he’s very proud of.
“Of course I am! I want cheap Five Seasons food, godsdammit!” He pauses, switching tactics. “Nico,” he says softly. He puts a gently hand on Nico’s forearm, making him freeze. He is suddenly very, very close, and wow, did his hair always frame his face in gentle waves? Has that always been a thing? “I really, really want to scam a restaurant with you.” He smiles, small and crooked and gods, Will doesn’t look dangerous very often, but holy Hades when he does — “Will you make my Valentines, and scam a restaurant with me?”
His fingers begin to trace little circles in the inside of Nico’s wrist.
“Yes,” he squeaks, voice cracking.
“Yes!” Will cheers, pulling his fist. “Yes, hell yes, Nico! We are going to scam the shit out of this restaurant! Half off for couples? How about half off for heathens! Free money, baby! Fuck yeah!”
He turns back towards Nico, smile still wide and radiant, blinking eyes pools of sparkling excitement. Nico’s knees go a little weak. “I’ll come get you at 2! Thank you, Neeks!”
He runs off back to his cabin, only tripping twice. Nico watches him go, feeling a little like he’s tripping, too, with all the swooping his stomach is doing.
“Dude,” he mumbles to himself, shaking his head. “Be normal. Christo.”
It takes him ten straight minutes to get back to his cabin, even though he’s standing at the porch.
———
The obsidian handle of the Hades’ cabin door rattles.
“Neeks!” calls a voice behind the door, “you ready to go?”
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Nico scrambles over to the mirror and stares at himself. He turns a little to the left. He scowls. “Shit!” Tugging the shirt off, he turns back to his closet, tossing the piece of clothing to join the rest of its brethren on the floor. “Shitfuck. Fuckshit. Shit.”
“Nico!”
“Coming!”
Tapping his foot rapidly, he looks harder, as if that will magically make the right shirt pop into existence, perfectly pressed, on a hanger. “Shit.”
“What could possibly be taking so long? You’ve had two hours!”
“I care about my appearance, Mr Flip Flops and Scrubs!”
“Bleh bleh! Hurry up!”
Nico bites his lip. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t, really. Five Seasons is not actually a fancy restaurant. He and Will just like to joke that it is, because it has tablecloths. They’ve gone there dozens of times before; they stop every time they’re in the city for supply runs or visits to Olympus or to harass their summer-only friends at school. There is literally no reason for Nico to be stressing about what stupid shirt he should wear. Gods know Will is wearing cargo shorts.
“Nico!”
“I’m coming!“
Scowling, he digs through the pile of discarded clothes until he finds the first shirt he’d put on — a dark green button up that was given to him, along with a bunch of other fancy clothes he never wears, by the Aphrodite cabin. He hastily shoves their buttons through their holes, cursing when he mixes them up and has to start over, and sprints over to the mirror to inspect himself.
The shirt looks good. It’s a little tight on the arms, which he suspects was on purpose, and the colour compliments his skin nicely. The buttons are a dark, shiny brown that match his eyes. They pair nice with his simple jeans and black vans, casual enough that he doesn’t look like he’s going to Prom, or anything stupid like that, but dressy enough that it looks like he put effort in. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to make the staticky strands sit right, but gives up pretty quickly. It’s okay if one thing is a little messy, right?
“Finally,” huffs Will as the door swings open. He glances Nico up and down, then grins. “You look great.”
Nico was right. He is indeed wearing cargo shorts, although to his credit they are his one pair without various Head Medic stains. His sweater, too, is a pretty blue, V-necked, long-sleeved, and a completely different style than his shorts. It clashes horribly. His shoes are, for some reason, bright solid pink. Nico suspects Hecate magic. His hair is braided in two French braids, his favourite way to wear it. Nico believes he is also wearing a touch of sparkly eyeshadow.
“You look dorky.”
Will grins wider. “Thank you! I wouldn’t let anyone help me choose something.”
“You should have.”
“I wanted it to be authentic, Nico. Also, got something for you.” From behind his back, he pulls out a handful of daisies, black dirt clinging to their roots, like he plucked them straight from the ground. Nico is inexplicably endeared by the image, and prays the smile on his face is less soft than he knows it is.
“You got me flowers?”
“Well, duh, Avril Lavigne. We gotta sell the scam.”
Nico brings them close to his face and inhales deeply. They smell fresh and earthy and sweet.
“That’s a stupid reason to bring someone flowers.”
“Give them back, then.”
“No. Fuck off. They’re mine.”
Will’s eyes twinkle. “Okay.” He holds out his arm. “Ready to go?”
The jump is close enough that Nico can convince him to shadow travel, and not just because he sadistically looks forward to the shade of green Will’s face will get after. As dangerous as he knows it can be, he misses it, sometimes. There’s something comforting about it, something soothing and familiar. Shadow travelling to the restaurant eases any lingering nerves.
“If you’re gonna throw up, do it somewhere I can’t hear you,” he says as they materialize in an alley.
Will’s cheeks puff out. “I’m gonna do it on your fuckin’ shoes.”
“I will leave your ass here, Solace, I swear to the gods.” Despite his grumbling, he rests a cool hand on the back of Will’s neck until he’s recovered. “Good?”
“Yeah.” He straightens, dusting off his sweater. “Let’s go.”
Nico follows him down the alley and onto the street, elbowing past the crowd of pedestrians until they approach the familiar glass doors. He rolls his eyes fondly every time Will apologizes to someone.
“You need to be meaner.”
Will sticks his tongue out and tries to trip him. Unfortunately, he only manages to throw himself off balance, nearly crashing to the floor of Nico hadn’t caught him.
“Good gods, Solace.”
“That was your fault!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The doors of the restaurant are absolutely plastered in cheesy red hearts and bows and cartoon kisses. And, as promised, a giant sign promising couples a fifty percent discount on their meals.
“My love,” says Will dramatically, holding out a hand, “shall we?”
Nico sighs, resting his hand delicately in Will’s. It sparks with electricity, like it always does. “I suppose.”
“Party pooper.”
“I’m not hearing oh, Nico, thank you so much for doing this incredibly stupid thing with me, you are my dearest friend and I owe you one. Or three, for some reason.”
Will’s mouth twitches. “Oh, Nico, thank you so much for —”
Nico shoves him, laughing. “Shut up.”
They’re seated pretty quickly, server smiling when they take notice of their clasped hands. Will orders chicken tenders, like he does every single time without fail, and water. Nico orders from the adult menu and absolutely does not make any kind of show about it.
“There is nothing babyish about chicken tendies.”
“Oh, of course not.”
“Is this about you having a credit card? That does not make you more adult than me. It makes you a nepo baby.”
“Mhm. Sure thing.”
“Nobody likes a nepo baby, Nico.”
“Look, I think your drink comes with a complimentary sippy cup.”
Teasing and joking with Will is so easy that Nico forgets the core of their mission. The pink garlands hanging from the ceiling fade into the background — he’s too busy crying with laughter when Will nearly chokes to death on a french fry, too busy flicking a forkful of food at his shoulder just to make him shriek, too busy kicking his shin under the table. He catches Nico’s foot between his the fourth time he tries it, keeping it trapped for the rest of the meal. Nico finds he doesn’t mind.
“And your bill,” says their server when they’re done, setting down a slip of paper. “Forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but do you two qualify for today’s discount?”
Will smirks widely. “We do,” he says, with no small amount of pleasure. He shoots Nico the least subtle wink of all time. Nico rolls his eyes, cheeks going a little pink.
“Great! You guys have a wonderful Valentine’s day.”
“You, too.”
The server hurries away, turning to their other tables. Will’s smile is wide and smug.
“I knew it would work.”
“Duh. Easiest scam in the world, Solace.”
He sticks his tongue out. “And thus the best payout. You’re welcome.”
“Blah, blah. Gimme the bill.”
“Um, no way, di Angelo. I’m paying.”
He opens his wallet before Nico can stop him, mouthing as he counts the bills.
“What? No! I’m paying.”
“Are not.”
“Am too!”
“Are not.” He sets down a couple twenties. Nico snatches them right back up. “You we’re just complaining about my credit card!”
“Exactly. Thus my need to continue to pretend you don’t have one, so we can continue our friendship.”
“Solace, I swear to the gods.”
“di Angelo, I swear to the gods.”
Nico stares him down. Will stares back. He doesn’t even try to hide his lazy grin, his laughing eyes.
“You’re not paying for this by yourself,” Nico says firmly. “You don’t have a job. My father invented being rich.”
“Sure, but I made you come with me.”
“Ugh!” Nico throws his hands up, imagining how satisfying it would be to wrap his hands around that long neck (followed by his teeth and his tongue and his —). “Why are you impossible? I would’ve gone with you no matter what, stupid!”
As soon as he says it he wants to stick his head in wet cement. For a brief second, something like surprise flits across Will’s face, before he schools it back into his teasing smirk.
“Well, obviously, Death Breath. I’m excellent company.”
“You’re literally the most annoying person I know.”
“And yet here you are, hanging out with me, of your own volition.”
“…I’m paying next time.”
Will grins. “Whatever you say.”
They walk around the city for a while before heading back to camp. Will says it’s because he needs the air, Nico knows it’s because he wants him to rest a little longer before trying to shadow travel again. He tries not to let himself get all melty inside.
(Nobody willingly hangs out around the city for the ‘air’. He’s a shit liar. Nico should be offended.)
It’s nearing curfew by the time they melt back out from behind Thalia’s tree, extra shadows of early evening making the trip easier.
“Those fries are going to make a reappearance,” Will grimaces.
“Not if you don’t want me to kick you in the face.”
“You’d never.”
He would indeed never. But he would rather pass away than admit it, so.
“C’mon, dot face. It’s getting late. You have a cabin to run.”
“Oh, Nico,” Will says in a breathy falsetto, “are you walkin’ me to my cabin? How chivalrous!”
“Nevermind.”
“No no no no no I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Nico allows himself to be tugged, weak to Will’s giggles. “Walk me to my cabin. C’mon.”
Sighing, as if he’s so put out, Nico does. Some point in between Thalia’s tree and the amphitheater, Will’s hand slides down from around his wrist to tangled in between his fingers. Coincidentally, his mouth goes dry.
As they approach the Apollo cabin, Will slows to a stop.
“Hey.” He squeezes their fingers together, smile soft in the dying light of dawn. “I had fun today. Thank you for coming with me.”
Nico swallows. One day, those words will be said in a different context, if everything goes well for Nico, and he’s not sure how the hell he’s going to handle it without bursting into flame. “Yeah, well. Anything to scam a restaurant.”
“Right.”
They walk the last few steps to the cabin, rickety porch steps creaking under their feet as they approach the open door. Will doesn’t let go.
“Hey, Nico.”
“…Yeah?”
Quick as a flash, Will leans in and presses the softest of kisses to his mouth. The noise Nico makes is practically punched out of his lungs, spine going rigid in surprise.
“You can pay for our next date, okay?”
He’s gone before Nico can respond, ducking into his cabin with a small smile and closing the door behind him. Nico stands there, like an idiot, for three solid minutes at the very least, distantly aware of the giggles coming through the open window.
His hand comes up, fingers brushing his bottom lip.
“The little fucker set me up.”
Valentine’s day scam. Please. The only scam today was the scam of Will’s sneaky asking.
Nico smiles.
“You’re a mess, Solace!” he shouts, knowing damn well Will is listening.
He’s right. “Goodnight, Nico!”
Shaking his head, Nico runs back to his cabin, entire body tingling and cheeks aching with his grin.
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soon-palestine · 15 days
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Israel, the world’s most innocent country, fell victim to a horrific attack from Iran with zero reported casualties on the same day Israel killed dozens of civilians in Gaza.
Israel had been minding its own business, quietly bombing hospitals, schools, universities, mosques, and an embassy, when the Iranian regime launched their outrageous attack for no apparent reason. Thankfully, the US and UK scrambled jets to defend Israeli airspace because it’s wrong to bomb countries in the Middle East, unless your name is Israel, in which case you can do all the bombing you want.
Every British and American ship in the region is now in grave danger and the risk of terror attacks on our soil has surely increased, but you will be relieved to know our countries have not benefitted in any way from our intervention. Personally, I can’t think of a better way for Israel to spend our tax money.
Our leaders have condemned Iran in the strongest possible terms, which is confusing because I thought we were supposed to remain ambiguous and say we’re investigating the matter when such an attack occurs. Perhaps this is one of those rules that only applies to Israel though.
When informed of the attack, a calm and rational Suella Braverman screamed: “WAR! I WANT WAR!” and when she’d stopped hyperventilating, she added: “This must be the end of western backsliding on Israel,” because she thinks we have not been sufficiently supportive of their genocide. Anyone who is not on the same side of the argument as Suella Braverman must ask serious questions about themselves.
Iran’s unprovoked attack involved giving Israel adequate warning and launching 30-year-old missiles, 99% of which were intercepted, and then saying the matter is closed unless Israel escalates further. The fact Iran would consider retaliating to further escalation from Israel shows just extreme these lunatics are.
Among Iran’s targets was the Israeli air base from which the missiles that struck its embassy were launched, killing 13 on April 1. As of yet, we have no indication as to why Iran carried out the attack, but we’re going to tell you it’s because they want to start World War III. Psychos.
Conspiracy theorists have suggested it’s actually Benjamin Netanyahu who wants escalation, but it’s unclear why the man who faces political oblivion, and possibly jail, would be incentivised to draw his allies into the fight and cause everyone to forget his many war crimes.
Israel, the country that definitely does not want war, has vowed an “unprecedented” response against Iran which will probably kill many more than zero people. If Iran expresses disapproval at Israel’s next mass murder, it’s because they’re trying to destabilise the region. At this point, we’ll have no choice but to help Israel do to Iran what we’ve spent six months helping them do to Gaza - launch precision strikes that destroy 70% of the buildings in the country and leave survivors living in tents.
Worryingly, we’ve just discovered at the most convenient moment that Iran has enough uranium to build 12 nuclear bombs. If it were true that Iran had so much weapon-grade uranium, it would be incredibly stupid to attack them, but we’re going to insist we must attack them because we’re weapon-grade idiots - and we think you are too.
Please just switch your brain off and accept what you’re being told, you simpletons! What matters is rich people can afford nuclear bunkers if this all goes horribly wrong. In the meantime, you can look forward to lots of exciting stories in the media about bringing back conscription and describing how you are likely to die in humanity's final war. Are you looking forward to radiation sickness and nuclear winter? Because they sound like brilliant fun! x
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this outstanding piece of journalism as much as I did, you can support my work here:
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