#hes talking about his appendicitis in this

[currently-evil]

Years in the future when Neil is playing pro he does the interview “Neil Josten breaks down his most serious injuries while playing professional Exy” but he does it… in the most Neil way possible.

Interview showing brutal tackle and the image of Neil laying on the court bloodied and not being able to get up. Neil: i was fine

.

Interviewer showing the video of Neil getting rammed into plexiglass by a mountain of a man Neil: here, exactly in this second you can see two of my ribs breaking :) Neil: Anyway I am still little angry coach wouldn't let me continue playing

.

Neil: Did it hurt to have an arm break in two places? Yes, but have you ever been shot?

.

Interviewer showing the image of Neil with his shoulder dislocated Neil: All this talk about tolerances but It suddenly turned out that my pro team isn't a safe space when you try to fix your shoulders yourself. And that “you’re crazy” and “you should calm the fuck down” and “no it doesn't matter that you did it before and it turned out fine” Neil: Can you believe it?

.

Interviewer showing a photo of Neil with one oh his legs bend in unnatural angle Neil: I could have walked it off

.

Interviewer showing a video of Neil collapsing on the court Neil: Fun fact, Turns out that your coach will be really furious with you if you don't tell him you plan to play a full game with a really high fever. I didn't know. Also it turns out that going to the hospital is not something you can decide on or decline even when you are an adult with full decision making power. Its something the Team decide on, because “You are a fucking idiot, Josten and a lost case”

.

Interviewer showing a photo of Neil getting hit by another player in the stomach and collapsing. Neil: So it turns out In rare cases, blunt trauma can cause appendicitis. And you know what they say? That when your appendix bursts it hurts as much as when you get stabbed? Well it does not. I can tell because I got stabbed actually. Multiple times. 

.

Another video of horrifying possible carrier ruining injury Neil: shrugs

[luveline]

JADE!!! WE WOULD LOVE TO SEE ANOTHER SPENCER X BADASS GIRL!!! maybe its a quiet day and reader & spencer just chilling and joking around in their little world and the others just watching ahahah

thank you for your request babe, I would love to write more for this pairing if u have requests!! ♡ fem!reader

"What are they doing?" Emily asks, a fierce whisper that carries across the jet. 

"I think they're flirting," JJ whispers back. 

Hotch closes the case file in front of him. There's nothing left to do until they get home but sit here in each other's company. You and Spencer seem to have realised this before anybody else, shoulder to shoulder, a book in his hands. He's slouched with his leg crossed over his knee, taking up the majority of the couch. You seem content to take the brunt of his weight while giggling softly by his ear. 

Hotch can't lie, he's genuinely startled by your behaviour. It's the total opposite of your usual affect.

"That's not flirting," Rossi says without looking up. 

Hotch has to agree. You brush a stray hair from Spencer's shoulder and he doesn't so much as blush, turning the page to show you something particular. You lean in closer still, hand resting now on his shoulder. 

That's not flirting, that's way beyond it. Spencer is practically in your lap, and you —wouldn't hug anyone on your birthday, didn't tell them where you were for four days when you had appendicitis until you were forced, cold, lone wolf you— look like you're about to cuddle him close and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. 

You're in your own little world. 

"I stopped expecting her to push him off twenty minutes ago," Derek says, as seemingly unbothered as Rossi. 

"Don't tell me you knew about this," Emily says incredulously. 

"They've been going on dates." 

"They what?" 

You laugh happily at Spencer's side, pointing at a specific line with the tip of your fingernail. "When asked, Moroscova said that the length of his stay was an act of perjury," you read. 

Spencer laughs at your quotation, sharing a secret smile with you. "That haircut is an act of perjury." 

Your eyes glow with a look Hotch knows well. Haley looked at him like that for years. "Thanks for reading this with me. I know I'm slow." 

"You're not slow. I'm really fast. There's a difference."

It's the definition of young love, Hotch thinks, all those heartfelt reassurances disguised as brags, stolen touches, Spencer's knuckles stroking up and down your outer thigh. 

He turns back to his book and you stare at the side of his face. It's a little heartbreaking. Hotch knows if things don't work out between you, you'll take it hard. Your affection for Spencer has always been in the silent things, undulating, until lately: you listen to him talk when nobody else has the patience, what must amass to hours and hours of stories and statistics; you defend him at every turn, in every precinct in every city; when Spencer has a hard time, you refuse to rest until he feels better. The case before this one, the unsub beat you across the face with the handle of his gun, and you leaned out of the ambulance with your eye glued shut to make sure Spencer got anaesthetic before his stitches. You look at him like he's hanging the moon in real time. 

"Okay, that's too much," Derek says. Hotch detects a hint of brotherly affection in it, but mostly disgust. 

You raise your gaze from Spencer's chest, the breezy smile playing on your lips flattening into a hard line. You send Derek your fiercest glare, him being the first in your line of sight, and Emily gets the shock of her life when you turn and narrow your eyes at her, too. 

Emily smiles widely. "Hey, how's it going over there?" she asks. 

"Why are you guys looking at me?" you ask. 

"You can't guess?" Derek says.

"If I could guess, I wouldn't have asked." 

Hotch gives you a disapproving look. Tone it down, Agent. 

"I just wanna know what's so interesting," you say, leaning into indifference.  

Spencer looks up from his book. "What?" 

"Nothing," you say, your tone gentler in a capacity only profilers might notice. "Don't worry about it."

Spencer sits up and your eyebrows pinch down. Hotch wants to save it and he also doesn't get paid enough. Everything works out in the end, he thinks, not believing himself even slightly as he gets up to make a cup of coffee at the back of the jet. Your sullen tones hardly reach him through the curtain and over the sound of the hot water kettle, Spencer's puzzled reassuring even quieter. 

[ervotica]

hi lovely i have a little writing idea for you; reader is rushed to muggle hospital with appendicitis, fred is told and he apparates to be by her side, he panics when he sees she's unconscious and crys to mrs weasley about how he can't lose her (reader and fred can either be together or not)

the bestfriendverse; the one with the muggle hospital. you have your appendix removed. fred frets, and you drop some truth bombs.

warnings; fem!reader, hospital talk, pining, yearning (bring back yearning men!!!), no established relationship, idiots in love <3

Your mother has stepped out of the room in voyage of a cup of tea when Fred apparates in. You’re dozing, halfway between sleep and consciousness, lulled further into the pillows by Molly’s thumb stroking circles into the back of your hand.

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor does little to soothe the frantic redhead, and his warbling voice has your heart ticking up, head tilting towards the sound. Molly’s free hand moves up to your jaw, pinching the skin affectionately as you grumble and stretch.

You catch snippets of the conversation, half-sentences that mash and jumble together in your sleep addled mind; the only thing that rouses you is the utter panic in Fred’s voice.

“I can’t- I can’t lose her, mum. She can’t leave me.”

“She’s not going anywhere, darling. She’ll be okay.”

Peeling your eyes open takes more effort than you’d care to admit. Your brain is all fogged up like a car windshield on an icy morning, but you instinctually reach for Fred anyway.

“Why would I be leaving you?” you murmur, brow pinching.

He takes your hand eagerly when you offer it, dropping into a crouch by your side. You stroke his cheek; if he’s surprised, he hides it very well. You’ve never been so outright with your affections.

“You’re not, angel,” he coos his agreement. You seem pleased even when your stomach throbs and you turn onto your back in an effort to evade the sting.

You frown and cock your head, eyes soft. “Would you like to know a secret?”

Fred snorts. Pain medicine makes you very polite. “Of course I would.”

“I love you very, very much, Freddie,” you whisper, curling closer to him. “And I don’t want to leave you.”

“I love you very, very much too, lovely girl,” he says. Your eyes clear, baring something raw and all too real beneath your glassy expression. Fred blinks and it’s gone, replaced by the same vacancy you’ve had since you’ve woken up. You dissolve into giggles.

“I’m appendix-less, Freddie.”

The joke is so silly Fred can’t help but tuck you up small underneath him for a squeezing cuddle. His arms ebb and drag over your arms, chest rumbling lowly against your smushed cheek.

“You are indeed, angel.”

“Do you think I can come home soon?” you sigh, squeezing at his ribs until he bends lower, covering more of your body with his own. “I don’t really like it here. And I miss you and Georgie. And I miss your mum.”

“I’m right here, dearie,” Molly chuckles. Your eyes bulge comically and you squeal, excited all over again.

“Thank Godric! I was going to come looking for you, otherwise, Mrs Weasley.”

You haven’t called her that in years. Fred kisses the top of your head. Just as he thought, you’re extra polite today.

“Georgie’s outside if you’d like to talk to him,” Fred says. “I just wanted you to myself first.”

You snort, smacking a wet kiss to his jaw. “You can have me to yourself whenever you want. Just ‘cos I love you.”

Fred feels his mother’s eyes pointedly burning a hole through his skull. Yeah, he thinks, I bloody know.

He needs to make a move, he knows that. It’s just so hard when you’re gazing up at him, all soft and sweet like he’s the only person in the whole world. Loving you is easy. It’s the threat of losing you that threatens to tilt his entire world on its axis.

“George’s here?” you mumble, eyes heavy. You’re fading, though still chipper as ever asking after your second bestest friend.

“Yeah, he is, angel,” Fred coos. “Why don’t you lay down and I’ll go and get him, yeah?”

You whine. “Don’t go far please.”

“I won’t, lovie.”

George tumbles to your side, eyes wrinkled with a grin as you yawn and open your arms for a cwtch.

“Hello, Georgie!”

“Hey, sunshine.” He mirrors your enthusiasm beat for beat. “How are you feeling?”

Your breath stutters in a funny sort of way before you sink into the pillows with a huff. Your eyes droop.

“I’d like to go home now, Georgie. Will you help me escape?”

“How could I say no to that?”

Fred clicks his tongue, faux seriousness clinging to every word. “Now, now. You need to stay a bit longer. They’ll discharge you at the end of the day.”

“Fred!” you and George groan synonymously.

He only rolls his eyes, sandwiching you snugly between the pair of lanky boys. “You love me, remember?”

“Very, very much, yes.”

[wilwheaton]

The party is an appendage of one man. Republicans want to talk about banana republics? They are the Banana Republicans. This is like Argentina under Perón or the Philippines under Marcos. And to what manner of man are they appended? Let’s review. He’s a rapist—yes, a judge used that word and said it was accurate, after, remember, another jury of Trump’s peers ruled against him. He’s a massive tax cheat. Six of his political associates, plus Allen Weisselberg (and Cohen, if you want to count him), have been sentenced to prison. Three took plea deals to avoid prison. And now, he’s a convicted felon. The emperor is stripped barer and barer with each passing month, and the Republican response is to praise his finery more passionately than ever.

Susan Collins’s Really Dumb Trump Defense Reveals the GOP’s Sickness

It’s such a weird lie, easily debunked, and telling it doesn’t serve her at all ... unless she is even more craven than we already knew.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 15] Ren The Cat

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Satoru, can we talk?” Shoko exits the bathroom, and she luckily bumps into Satoru. Satoru shakes his head, his eyes falling on you as you run out of the place. He’s about to run after you, but Shoko stops him. Her hand goes to his forearm.

“What the fuck are you doing? Why the hell is she running off?” Satoru sounds irritated, and Shoko knows that if she lets go, he’ll stop you. He’s about to push her away, and she knows that he’s much stronger.

“Let her go. It’s an emergency.” She says, and he furrows his brows. An emergency? Like what?

“Someone better be in the hospital.” Satoru responds, and this wave of guilt hits Shoko. For too many of her actions, the biggest of all is her hiding his son from him. She shouldn’t care, it’s none of her business.

“Satoru…” Her heartbeat races, and she’s about to stop herself from talking. She shouldn’t, it’s not her place. But you’re not speaking up ever, and Satoru deserves to know about the existence of his son. “She’s going to see Ren at the hospital.”

“The cat? Why the fuck–” Satoru begins but he’s cut off. The next words that leave her mouth, leave him dumbfounded.

“Ren isn’t a cat. Ren is her son.” Shoko blurts out. Satoru feels his blood boil at the mere thought of you being with someone else. He’s confused though, why would you hide the fact that you have a kid? Shoko tries to read his emotions, but she can’t. It’s hard.

“Who’s the father?” Satoru asks, wondering if it’s someone he knows. It doesn’t click in his head quite that second. Shoko gives him a moment to think about it, but it doesn’t occur in his head. Shoko has to tell him,

“I don’t think you get it… Why would she not tell you that she has a son?” Shoko feels like she’s dumbing it down. Satoru isn’t an idiot, but a million thoughts run through his head. He shrugs. “Ren is her son. Your son. She’s leaving because you have a son together, and he’s in the hospital.”

“You’re lying. She would tell me. She wouldn’t keep that from me.” Satoru answers, and Shoko lets go of him. He goes chasing after you, but you’re gone. He’ll just stop by every hospital nearby, until he finds you. He’ll remember the name– Either Ren has your last name, or his. He’ll ask about either name.

“Satoru…” You stand up from your chair, and you watch as tears well up in his eyes as he takes in the scene. Shoko wasn’t lying– Ren doesn’t have his last name, but one swift look at the kid and he realizes that is his son. That’s his spitting image.

You stare at each other, frozen in time. Your heart feels as if it’s in your throat, and your mind chases a thousand miles per hour as you think of what you’ll say next. What can you say? You weren’t exactly preparing yourself for this moment, you thought this would never happen. How fucking stupid.

While Satoru feels betrayed. Utterly hurt. He’s always thought the best of you; you were damn near the perfect woman. Yet you’ve betrayed him in the worst possible way. You hid his own flesh and blood from him… For what?

But Satoru isn’t going to argue, not when a little boy that he just met is in pain, and the kid is calling him daddy. Satoru rushes to Ren’s side, pressing a kiss on his forehead. Satoru isn’t quite sure what to say, what do you say to your son? A kid that’s probably almost five, a kid you just met? 

“He has appendicitis, he has surgery in the morning.” You inform him. Should you tell him to go back to his event? And deprive Satoru and Ren from this sweet moment? You have no option but to sit back down and watch the scene unfold.

“I’ll be by your side, buddy. Everything’s gonna be okay.” Satoru’s finger pushes Ren’s hair out of his face. Satoru takes in the little details of his son’s face. Ren has your nose, but apart from that, he looks just like Satoru. Tears stream down Satoru’s face, and his voice breaks, in disbelief that this is happening, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, Ren. Your daddy is here now.”

You feel nauseous, tears streaming down your face as you watch them. Guilt for the last couple months that you’ve kept him hidden when Satoru was right in front of you. But you didn’t. You could’ve defied Mrs. Gojo’s orders, but you selfishly didn’t. You watch as Satoru kisses his son’s forehead again.

If he could, Satoru would hug Ren so tight that he’d nearly leave the boy breathless. But he can’t. He’ll do it next week though, when Ren is better. 

The sweet moment is interrupted by his ringing phone, and Satoru takes it out. His mother calls, and he’s about to pick up since he has this news; she’s a grandmother. For a moment he stares at the phone, and he realizes something. You’ve mentioned Ren the cat before and his mother knew. His mother fucking knew. That’s why you’re working with her, because his mother knows that she has a grandson.

He declines the call, instead he focuses on his son. Grabbing his tiny hand, and taking note of every crevice. He always swore that when he had a baby, he’d look at every finger and toe individually, and he’d count them over and over again. He can’t believe he missed that.

There’s a smile on Ren’s face as he looks at his father, finally meeting the man that he’s been waiting for. 

“Granny!” Ren shouts when his grandmother comes to sight. Your mother, who happily walks in with food but drops the bag when she sees him. Satoru looks back at your mother, and it’s like she’s just seen a ghost. Satoru walks over to her, and wraps his arms around your mother.

She isn’t sure what to do as Satoru hugs her. This isn’t the same little kid that would come running to her after an injury, the man that hugs her is the father of her grandson. A man that’s left many unattended wounds in her daughter. Satoru pulls away, and goes back to his son.

Your mother looks at you, watching as you silently cry. It seems as if more tears stream down your face when Satoru asks, “So how old are you, buddy? Sorry for not knowing.”

Ren puts up four fingers, excitedly replying, “Four!”

“Nice to see he isn’t in pain anymore.” Your mother comments. Your hand holds onto Ren’s, and you rest your head on the empty space of the mattress again, listening to your son and his father talk.

Ren is taken in the morning, and Satoru assures him that he’ll be there right after surgery. Neither of you slept a wink last night, and you hope that while you wait you can sleep for an hour or so. You doubt you will though since you have a lot to talk about. So much to talk about. 

When you’re left alone, you sit in silence for a minute. Both of you gather your thoughts. Until Satoru finally clears his throat, “So you faced me everyday like that? Like you weren’t hiding anything. You were planning on keeping quiet about my son.”

“I tried to tell you when I was pregnant.” You answer, and you take a deep breath. That’s not good enough. Not now, not when you’ve been seeing each other daily. “And then… Mrs. Gojo didn’t want me to tell you.”

“And why the hell did you listen to her?” Satoru slowly begins to see red. His own mother did this to him. He has no trouble believing you, it does seem like something his mother would do. “You had no problem looking me in the eye while hiding him.”

“She gave me an opportunity that would make my life easier, I would obviously listen to her.” You respond. “You started over with someone else, I feel like I’d ruin everything if I’d come out of nowhere with a child.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. You don’t care about that, do you? You’re just scared I’ll take Ren from you.” He says, and maybe Satoru remembers how you are. 

“I struggled with him for so long, the last thing I need is for you to take him from me. You have no right to take him from me. I don’t care if you can financially support him better than me, he’s my son.” You get defensive, and Satoru’s hand goes over your own to reassure you. He squeezes it, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. He hates that this is how you think of him. It’s not unwarranted.

“And I won’t take him from you, but at the very least I deserved to know. I deserved to know I have a son.” He’s clearly upset, and his emotions reflect in his voice with every word that leaves his lips. “Do you know how hurt I am? You hid my own flesh and blood from me, you know better than anyone how badly I wanted to be a father.”

“I wanted to tell you, Satoru. I tried to tell you. But then I realized you had other priorities, and I understood that I didn’t need you by our side. And I’m sorry that it happened like this, but you’re partially at fault for the outcome.” You answer, standing up from your seat. You need a breath of fresh air and a shower. You begin to walk towards the door, and it opens before your hand goes to the doorknob. You’d be terrified of her at any other time, but not now. You take a deep breath,

“Mrs. Gojo… Your son is here to speak with you.”

[pixiesfz]

cough syrup s.c x child reader!

apart of sunshine series!

plot: you get sick right before a big game

warning: sickness, appendicitis, vomiting, this is literally my experience when I got my appendix removed (I was 6)

You hadn't been feeling good since you got home from Kindergarten, your stomach hurt and your head was pounding, you hadn't even felt the need to eat your lunch Steph made you. You had never felt like this before.

You hadn't talked a lot to your friends or on the way home which was weird since you usually told Steph about your whole day and complained about the boys in your class.

You didn't like them.

"Did Jack annoy you today?"

"Hm" you grunted and Steph just nodded and furrowed her brows, you must be tired she thought.

You ran straight to your room when you got home, Calvin following you as you both sat on a bean bag.

Calvin seemed to know you didn't feel good as he licked your arm, sitting on your lap "Hi Calvy" you sniffled as the dog looked up at you.

Usually when you felt sick you told your mum but all she and all your aunties had been talking about for the last week were the 'conti' cup which you didn't know what it meant but you knew it had to do with her soccer career.

Lara used to talk about it sometimes, but she used a different word for it.

So you stayed quiet, a tear running down your eye every so often as you played with toys in your play house.

Steph noticed your quietness at home and got worried "Sunshine?" she called out to you and you quickly rubbed your eye and turned around with a soft smile "mummy?"

"Did someone say something to you at Kindergarten?" you shook your head "nope" you hummed and turned back to your doll house.

Steph sighed before walking over to you and bending down "you okay Sunshine?" she asked and you faltered, nodding your head quickly after.

Steph knew better.

"Sunshine what did I say about lying" she looked at you sternly before you looked down to your feet "to not do it" you mumbled and she nodded "exactly".

She placed her hand on your forehead before her eyes popped open "Sunshine your head is burning, are you sick?"

You nodded "head and tummy hurts"

"Why didn't you tell me? has it been hurting since Kindergarten?" Steph asked, panic setting in

"You have cunti cup tomorrow!"

Stephs eyes grew wider "Con-ti not..." she sighed "that."

Tears started to roll down your face, not bothering to act anymore "hurts" you whined "everything hurts!"

Steph nodded quickly picking you up "What hurts the most Sunshine?" Steph asked and you pointed to the right end of your stomach

Steph nodded, blowing out air.

She never liked seeing you in pain, and you were really in pain.

"Can I touch it?" Steph asked and you wiped away your tears and nodded.

You let Steph lay you down on the couch, Calvin sitting nearby as she lightly laid her hands on your stomach

"wrong side mummy!"

Steph winced "right, sorry Sunshine" she apologized before moving to your right side, a scream leaving your lips when she applied pressure.

"Hurts" you yell and Steph wiped her forehead "I know honey, I know"

Steph stood up, panic thriving within her body, this wasn't just any stomach bug, should she call the hospital?, local doctors?, Mini?

"Your whines grew as you started to struggle to lay still "Mummy!" you cried as she left to grab her phone "Sunshine did you eat today?"

"Wasn't hungry" you grumbled, laying your hand out for Calvin, hoping he could distract you from the pain in your stomach.

Steph was quick, typing your symptoms into an app she had downloaded since she got you and winced when she saw the answer she begged it wouldn't be.

appendicitis.

Quickly she ran to your room, grabbing more comfortable clothes and a water bottle, running inside the house, lastly grabbing Calvin and putting him outside before grabbing you which you screamed at.

"Where we going?" You asked as tears rolled down your cheeks "We're seeing the doctor" (hospital, but she didn't want to freak you out) she replied and you clung onto her before she reached the car and sat you down in your seat.

She looked up to your tear covered face as she did the buckle "You will be okay Sunshine" she told you, wiping your cheeks before closing the door and running to the drivers seat.

Your whines didn't stop on the way and Steph almost started crying herself, her blood pressure dropping whenever your cries grew louder.

"I called the doctor and we get to go straight in Sunshine" she told you, her voice croaky.

You had become silent now and Steph didn't know if that was better or worse as she parked the car, running out to grab you and go to the front desk.

You had taken yourself out of reality, almost getting used to the pain as you looked around.

Must be a new doctors, you thought as Steph discussed with the lady on the chair before you were placed on an uncomfortable bed and taken to a white and blue room, some painted fishes on the side as well.

Tonight had been a long night.

A man came in with a metal circle thingy as he discussed with Steph, trying to talk to you but you were too scared.

You hadn't made a sound at all until he placed his circle on your stomach, a scream leaving your mouth as he pursed his lips and nodded.

"It's good you came now, before it burst" he informed your mum but you widened your eyes "what?" you ask

burst.

What did that mean.

Steph held your hand, squeezing it tight as the man left again, telling you he would be back quickly

"Sunshine?" Steph called for you as you turned your head, tears falling down "mummy?" you questioned, your voice breaking Steph's heart

"You're going to have a little surgery-" "Lara used to have surgeries!" You tried to get up as you yelled but Steph stopped you, you turned to her again seeing that she also had tears running down her face.

"It's not scary, trust me I've done his before, hey even Calvin's done this before" she said and you relaxed

If Calvin can do it so could you, if Lara did them, so could you.

The doctor came back in, some nurses behind him as they grabbed your bed again, wheeling to another room where the man held a plastic mask.

"Do you like chocolate y/n"?"

You nodded and Steph smiled "chocolates your favourite isn't it Sunshine" You smiled "I like chocolate Ice-cream" you said and the doctor and nurses smiled "this is just like chocolate the man said before passing Steph the mask.

"You trust me Sunshine?" she ask and you nodded, the woman putting the mask around your head as you tasted chocolate, a warm smile coming across your cheeks.

"What about your game?" You mumbled, starting to feel tired

"I'll be with you Sunshine."

When you woke up in your room you were surrounded by a lot of happy aunties with gifts in their hands.

"Did you win cunty cup?"

Steph didn't even bother correcting you this time, just happy you were feeling fine.

[auspicioustidings]

You have two passports which is neat (thanks to your parents being two different nationalities). Not something that's really got much of an impact on your life. Or at least it didn't until the MoD did a search for any employees that may have one of your nationalities and you popped up. You don't do anything in the military as such, but technically you do work for the MoD even if it's as a low level cleaner in an office.

Imagine your surprise being pulled into a meeting room with someone who has more stripes on their shoulders than you knew existed along with some Captain you've never met. The world's sort of at stake you see, and it would really speed things along if Captain Price here could get a visa for that second country you hold a passport for. Don't worry, once all is said and done the marriage can be annulled, and really given his team are risking their lives, how bad is one tiny little marriage?

The bit they don't tell you as the man with the many stripes performs the ceremony right there and then in the office is that this isn't expected to be a short mission by any means. No, that bit you find out as time marches steadily on and your husband who you had assumed you'd never actually interact with is giving red envelopes to your little cousins for the New Year, is rushing you to the hospital and sitting right by your side holding your hand as you recover from appendicitis, is slowly making a home for both of you. The house, he says, is for security. And yet anyone who enters sees the photos on the walls, the knick knacks, the combination of you and him soaked into the place.

It's two years into your marriage that one rainy night, saited from a warm meal and enjoying a cosy hot chocolate as you talk about anything and everything, you finally consummate the damn thing.

By the time he finishes the mission you have 3 kids and 2 dogs. After the kids are put to bed the day he gets back he gets down on one knee. "Want to do it proper this time darling. Will you marry me, my beautiful wife?"

[versairic]

Mariquita | CS55

In which Carlos' appendectomy triggers a huge emotional chaos in you and makes you realise just how big your feelings for the Spaniard actually are

or

In which your concern for Carlos clearly shows the Spaniard that you probably feel the same way about him as he does about you

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

The last few days have been pure confusion. You could clearly feel this at Ferrari.

After Carlos' appendicitis was announced, on which he had to undergo surgery, the young Briton Olli Bearman was brought in to replace Carlos and chaos began to reign in the team.

Some things had to be changed, such as the adjustment of the seat, as well as various other things up to the well-known gift in the social media.

The hustle and bustle could be clearly felt throughout the team. But the excitement was not just for the young 18-year-old Brit, but also for the Spaniard. Because most of the time, the team's thoughts were on Carlos, who should soon have the operation behind him.

" Have you finished the Instagram post yet? " Lucy asked me as she sat down at the table opposite me.

" Uhm, what? " confused, I lifted my eyes from my mobile phone, which I kept glancing at hopefully to be the first to hear the news about Carlos' condition.

But so far there was still no news, which slowly started to make me more and more nervous.

"I wonder if you've already posted on Instagram that Carlos has come through the operation okay," Lucy continued in a gentle voice and put her hand on my arm.

It took a few seconds for her words to sink in and for me to really understand what she meant.

" W-really? " I stammered, while at the same time a huge stone fell from my heart and I began to feel the tightness in my chest, which had been there since yesterday, loosen.

" But I didn't read anything in the group. How do you know that? " I was sure I hadn't read anything, because for the last ten minutes I'd been checking the Ferrari chat on my mobile phone, hoping I hadn't missed anything.

" Fred just came up to me. He was talking to Carlos Senior. Everything went well and he's now recovering in hospital. " Lucy gave me a soft smile as her thumb gently stroked my arm.

Not only was she my best friend on the team, she was also the one who knew how close Carlos and I actually were.

When I joined the team about a year ago, Carlos was the first to welcome me with open arms and show me around.

During my first day at work, the Spaniard kept coming round to ask me how things were going.

When he invited me for a meal at the end of my first shift and listened attentively to what I had to say about my first successful day at work, a friendship developed within a few weeks.

"Thank God," I whispered quietly as a relieved smile crept onto my lips.

All your fears and worries that something could have gone wrong during the operation vanished within a few seconds.

"I'll post it straight away! " I almost shouted as I reached for my mobile phone and then opened the Ferrari Instagram account that I was partly responsible for.

One of my tasks in the team was to keep the fans up to date via Instagram and Twitter. I also had a say in the C2 Challenges on YouTube, where I always created fun content for the fans.

It wasn't long before I had chosen a photo of Carlos and typed up a short text about his condition and then posted it.

"Now I can get back to work feeling better," I mumbled as I reached for your fruit salad, which had been sitting untouched on the table in front of me, and started eating.

" I believe you. It's about time my favourite colleague was finally back at work with a smile on her face. "

Yesterday almost flew by, which was probably due to the good news that had lifted my spirits so much that I was completely back in the swing of things.

Olli had done well in the third free practice session and in qualifying, as had Charles, who would start today's race from second place.

This lifted my spirits even further, so I entered Ferrari Hospitality with a smile on my face and greeted a few of my colleagues who were already having breakfast.

"Morning sunshine," Charles greeted me with an amused smile as I stood next to him at the buffet and reached for a plate.

"Morning my favourite Monegasque," I replied brightly and then reached for a croissant.

" Do I want to know why you're shining like the non-existent sun today? " Charles asked as he reached for a bowl of muesli and then continued. " Well, actually, I know what it is..."

Charles winked and then began to waggle his eyebrow dramatically, which looked rather strange.

"Are you all right? " I asked him, while I also secured a bowl of muesli and placed it on my tray.

" I'm doing great. I'm ready for the race, but that's not the issue right now. Try not to get distracted," he almost admonished me and raised his index finger in the air in warning before continuing. "Could it be that your good mood is back thanks to Carlo's successful operation? Because since this was announced, you seem to have changed. "

" It's race day..." I tried to talk my way out of it, but I couldn't, as Charles hovered his index finger over my lips to indicate that I should be quiet.

"I'm neither stupid nor daft. I know for a fact that there's something going on between you and Carlos. It's certainly none of my business, but I can see that you're good for each other and I think that's great. Don't stop doing good for each other, okay? Okay, great! See you then! "

Before I could open my mouth to give Charles an answer, the Ferrari driver had already fled, almost running, with his tray.

Shaking my head, I looked after the Monegasques for a few seconds before I ran over to one of the free tables with my tray and began to eat my breakfast in peace.

And as I sat there eating my breakfast in comfort, my thoughts kept wandering back to Charles' words.

Were Carlos and I really on good terms? And if so, was Carlos and my behaviour really so obvious that others had probably noticed?

Once again, a tightness began to spread through my chest, so I pushed the breakfast on my tray to one side in disgust and began to sigh softly.

But before I could even begin to think about Carlos and me, Lucy appeared in front of me.

Her blonde hair lay dishevelled on her face, her cheeks shimmered red and she put her hands on her hips, out of breath.

" Lucy are you okay? " I asked cautiously and all I got in reply was a squeezed " Water. "

After I handed Lucy my water, which she drank within a few seconds and then just stood there for a few more seconds, I got nervous.

I could sense that something wasn't right and the fact that Lucy just wouldn't come out with it made me even more nervous.

" Lucy... " I almost urged as you began to shift restlessly on the chair.

" Carlos is here! " she almost shouted so loudly that one or two Ferrari employees turned to us both and looked at me in confusion.

"Sorry, I meant Carlos is here," she repeated more quietly as she dropped into the chair opposite me and rested her elbows on the table.

" What? Why is he here? He just had an operation yesterday! " I looked at the person opposite me with wide eyes as I almost jumped up.

" I have no idea! I saw a story on Instagram where he's walking through the paddock. Or should I say crawling? He can barely walk, he looks absolutely pale and like he's in pain! " she continued, making strange hand movements that I couldn't interpret at all.

" What?! " I repeated again, almost stunned, while my heart began to beat faster.

Why was he here and not resting? He couldn't be serious.

I immediately began to worry so much that I jumped up and ran off without waiting for an answer from Lucy.

" Thanks for breakfast! " she called after me, but I hardly noticed because I only had one thing on my mind. Carlos.

I kept dodging various members of other teams as I ran, keeping my eyes peeled for Carlos.

It wasn't long before I found him and a few other Ferrari employees in the pits, where he was greeted warmly with hugs and a few words.

I stayed in the background and watched Carlos from a distance. And indeed, he looked anything but well.

His posture was more hunched than upright and his face was rather pale, which occasionally even showed that he must clearly be in pain.

Why the hell wasn't he lying in bed and resting?

It took a few minutes for the Spaniard to catch sight of me. Within a few seconds, his face brightened and he literally crept over to me.

"Mariquita," he greeted me with a smile on his lips and pulled me into a warm hug shortly afterwards.

I carefully wrapped my arms around him, hoping not to cause him any more pain.

" Carlos, what are you doing here? " was the first thing I said to him.

" How about a "Oh, hello Carlos. I'm glad you're doing well and that you've come through everything okay?" " he asked as he let go of me and then leant against the wall next to me.

He seemed to find it difficult to even stand up straight. He was even still wearing his hospital bracelet. It was as if he'd literally fled from the hospital and gone straight to the track.

" Are you crazy? You had appendicitis, had to have an operation and haven't even rested for a day? You can barely walk, you look incredibly shitty and you still seem to be in pain! " I spoke in an angry voice and didn't care if anyone was listening. Because apparently I was the first person to say these words to him.

And probably the only one who was thinking straight.

"I'm fine," he tried to reassure me, but he seemed to realise himself that this wasn't the case.

" No, you're not! " I looked at him seriously for a few seconds before turning on my heel and leaving.

Carlos' warm hand grabbed my arm and caused a slight electric shock to run through my body.

"I'm sorry, Mariquita. Let's talk in peace," his voice sounded soft and calm.

He carefully led me into a kind of storeroom that I had never been in before.

A few things were stored here, such as drinks and spare items for the mechanics, like a sofa that stood in the middle of the room.

Carlos slowly lowered himself onto the sofa, grimacing slightly, and then carefully pulled me next to him.

The sofa was so narrow that we sat there more or less pressed against each other and the touch of our knees and arms made my heart start beating faster again and I became slightly restless.

" You have every right to be angry with me and to worry. That's really sweet of you, but it was entirely my decision to come here. In hospital, the ceiling would have literally fallen on my head and I wanted everyone to know that I was okay."

"But you should take it easy, Carlos..." I almost mumbled and looked at the Spaniard, whose eyes were on me.

"I will, I promise," he assured me as he came a little closer to me and I felt his breath on my cheek.

Shortly afterwards, I felt his warm lips lightly on my cheek, which made the area start to tingle warmly and the heat shot up my cheek.

" I've heard from some people how worried you were about me. That was really incredibly sweet of you, Mariquita," Carlos began and gently stroked a strand of my hair behind my ear before continuing.

"We both know that there's more between us. And that's why I want to ask you if you'd like to go on a date with me? " His brown eyes rested calmly on me while a soft smile formed on his lips.

His words caused chaos to awaken in my stomach, as all the butterflies that had just been lying there quietly for a long time began to awaken and turn my feelings completely upside down.

" Yes, but only if you take it easy. Otherwise you can forget the date," I replied with a partly serious and partly worried look.

It was important to me that Carlos recovered fully from the operation and regained his strength so that he would soon be fit again and able to get back into the car.

"I promise, Mariquita."

[bellarkeselection]

Could you do a will halstead x reader where they’re engaged and she’s a detective in intelligence, she’s been having stomach pains for about a week but put it down to cramps or stress whenever someone asked especially when Will asked but then at work she collapses and when they take her to med they find out the pain was appendicitis and Will’s like why didn’t you say something before

Didn’t Want You to Worry

@annieradcliff

“Y/n, are you sure you're okay in there?” My fiancé Will asked on the other side of the door. We had both gotten dressed and ready for work, me as an intelligence detective and he an ED doc. Unfortunately I felt harsh pain hit me so I went and sat down in the bathroom waiting until they went away.

I assumed it had to be cramps or something like that. Except I didn't think my period was supposed to come for another two weeks. “I'll be fine, Will. It's just some cramps is all. If you need to go to work that's fine.”

“Okay. You know I can stay home if you want to and take care of you if you're not feeling good.” He explained through the other side of the door.

Pushing myself up off the ground I felt them disappear allowing me to open the door and give him a half smile. “Seriously it's nothing. My period is probably coming earlier or it's just stress from the long case we've been working on.”

“Okay just call me if it's gets any worse.” He leans forward planting a kiss on my forehead before he left our apartment.

Making my way to work I was simply sitting down at my desk moving through fingers files on the computer till another wave of pain shot through my body. “Ah! Son of a bitch.” I winced gripping the wood of my desk underneath my fingernails.

Voiets office door opened and Will's brother Jay came out coming over to talk to me. “It's crazy to think you're going to be Mt sister in law in a few more weeks. Hey are you alright?”

“Just some pain stomach pain today - are you bringing Hayley to the wedding?”

Jay sat down on the edge of my desk scanning his eyes over me. “Do you want me to get you some advil?”

“No, I can get it myself. I have some in my locker. I'll be right back.” Standing up from my desk chair I had managed to walk into the hallway before my eyes grew heavier and my body fell forward where I collapsed into the nearest door.

I could hear Jay holler my name, coming around the corner to see what had happened. “Y/n! Oh geez. Voiet call an ambulance.”

“Jay - I'm - okay.” I croaked out barely able to keep my eyes open.

He brushed hair out of my face seeing I was struggling to stay awake. “Just hang on, Y/n. We're gonna get you to Med.” After that I must have blacked out because the next thing I knew I was waking up in the ED, laying on one of their hospital beds.

I began looking around the room noticing that there was an iv in my left hand and the screens were popping up with all different kinds of numbers clearly reading my vitals. “Where is she. Where is she, Msggie!” I recognized Will’s voice coming down the hallway.

“She’s in here.” Maggie drew open the curtain to my room.

Will bolted inside the room rushing to my bedside. “Y/n! Oh my god I knew something was wrong this morning. Why were you trying to act like it wasn’t?” His eyes scanning over mine almost a mile a minute.

I shake my head wishing he wouldn’t worry. “Will, I just got light headed. I'm probably dehydrated. Just give me some liquids and I'll be on my way.”

“Y/n, Jay told me you collapsed st work. That isn’t something minor.” Will spat me with worry in his voice.

I huffed crossing my arms over my chest seeing the curtain move again and Dr. Manning enter the room with an iPad in her hands. “Hi Y/n, how are you feeling?”

“I'd feel a lot better it I was out of - he-ah!” I gasped holding my stomach trying to curl myself into a ball on the bed.

Will rubbed my lower back keeping his other hand on my shoulder eyeing his friend. “Nat, what's wrong with her?”

“I wish I could say it was something minor but it’s not. You are actually going to need surgery. You have something wrong with your appendix. That’s why you’ve been feeling so much pain for the past couple of weeks.”

Will sent her a look asking. “Can you give us a minute, Nat. Y/n, why didn’t you tell me sooner and just have been lying about it.”

“I didn’t want to worry you. You already have enough on your plate with getting the wedding venu and everything else. I didn’t want to add onto the stress when I really believed it was my period cramps or stress myself, at least until this morning.”

Will closed the gap between us, cupping my face in his hands kissing me deeply. “I’m gonna be your husband, babe. You don’t have to keep things from me. I’m always going to be here for you.”

“Thank you, Will. I - I really appreciate you saying that to me,” I sniffed through happy tears relieved that he would be for me no matter what came our way. Our jobs in day to day life was hard enough, but we’d get through everything together. “I love you, Will Halstead.”

He smiled down at me, kissing my forehead sweetly. “I love you too, soon to be Mrs. Halstead.” I must have gotten pretty lucky to end up calling him my husband for the rest of my life.

[vxsellie]

‧₊˚┊simple living things﹗

a hunger games!au ellie williams fanfiction.⌇ 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭 𝔳𝔦

summary. our tributes are to be rounded up, judged by the gamemakers, and ranked 1-12 on skill. what with all that took place the night prior, this should be fun!

content warnings. graphic depictions of abuse (memories), lack of communication, complex emotions (neither of these girls can process their feelings wtf)

total wc. 10,190

notes!! i've got nothing to say here. i talked a LOT in the post-notes tho! so be sure to check those out! anyway,,, once again, reminder that it's better read on ao3!

𝜗𝜚 series masterlist ⸝⸝ playlist ⸝⸝ ao3 𝜗𝜚

09:30.

TRAINING CENTER, GROUND LEVEL.

Echoes of desolation ring throughout the training room. Hardly anyone showed up today, deeming it more salient to practice for the ratings at noon. See, following lunch, everyone will be called by District to the Observation room. Within it will reside the Gamemakers—those responsible for the brutality for the Games each year. There, the tributes will show off their skills and earn a score that ranges from one to twelve. To be given a one is the lowest possible rating, deeming the tribute to be menial; to be given a twelve is, well, unheard of. Nobody has scored a twelve. To earn higher than even an eight is considered incredible.

Anyway, due to today’s peculiarity, most tributes have dedicated the day to rest, not wishing to waste their energy prior to the ratings. Only six people are here, seven with Ellie appended—everyone else having opted for absence. Including you.

Among those present are Sam and Henry, which is unsurprising as they spend every second possible within the training room. As well as Dahlia Hart, the young girl from Eleven, who has yet to venture away from the animal station, a large book clutched in her small hands as she reads about random creatures of her interest. Elliot Delcan from Nine is here as well, too caught up in his own interests to care much for his surroundings. Anthea Solace from One is immersed in a deep conversation with the trainer who teaches tributes to make fishing hooks and nets, though they both seem to have long since abandoned the actuality of their situation. Remy Wilson, your District partner, is present as well, struggling to build a shelter out of sticks and moss.

Ellie is currently being lectured on how to tie a knot. The trainer was stoical for the first twenty minutes, though he’s seemed to lose that sense of patience. But Ellie’s stupid rope won’t bend the way his does, the fibers all frayed and twisted.

“Under, Williams.” The man repeats for the hundredth time. He holds the rope out as he easily ties a bowline knot, forming a perfect circle. His hands move too fast for her to grasp his exact motions. He raises his brows. “See?”

Fuck this. Ellie heaves a heavy sigh, throwing the rope onto the tiled floor before pushing to her feet and storming off. 

As she heads over to a random station across the gym, someone blocks her path. Ellie nearly trips over them, their frame far too small to be jumping out at people like that. She looks down, already irritated. Two feet shorter than her in height, Dahlia Hart’s big brown eyes stare up at her. Ellie’s anger dissipates instantly at the sight of the young girl. There are so many kids in the Games this year. Too many.

“Can I talk to you?” Dahlia asks, tilting a head of coily hair. Her voice is so small, yet her tone remains direct and terse.

“Uh, yeah.” Ellie forces herself to push down any prior—and unrelated—feelings of vexation as she agrees to speak with the girl. She follows Dahlia over to a secluded area of the gym, the two of them partially hidden behind a rack of weaponry. “What’s up?”

“Your ear.” Dahlia speaks lowly, pointing to the gauze that it’s currently wrapped in. 

Ellie had attempted to cover the bandages with her hair this morning, even asking Tilly for some help with a better way to style it, though she couldn’t do much. She simply situated the auburn strands more deliberately before coating her entire scalp in some kind of hairspray that left it feeling oddly solidified in place. 

“What about it?” She attempts to sound casual as she raises a brow at the child. 

“I saw.” She whispers as though they’re sharing some horrible secret. They might be. “Nolan attacked you yesterday. He threw a spear at your head and Y/n defended you. She hit him for breaking the rules and she’s the one being punished.”

The mention of you protecting Ellie sends a shiver down her spine, especially after everything from last night—which she’s been doing a good job at trying not to think about. Thanks a lot, Dahlia.

“She’s a L/n, nothing’ll happen to her.” Ellie assures her shortly, wanting to get out of this conversation as soon as possible.

Dahlia frowns. “I thought you guys were friends.”

Friends. 

What a strange word. It entails so much, yet so little. It describes two people who have known one another their entire life, yet can also describe two people who have spoken thrice. So much room for interpretation. So much room to fuck it all up. 

Ellie thinks of you, though the word doesn’t embody your enigmatic relationship with accuracy. Moonlight on soft skin, smoke in chilled night air, pillowy lips joining of idiotic impulse. Such gentility. But there are other memories as well; a duality. Sharp gazes across crowded rooms, words cryptic when shared in publicity, fists finding purchase in the other’s body during practice.

After you, she thinks of Riley. A friend for life, naught else. Their laughter rang true, the same sound trailing all the way back to their shared youth. To have grown with someone is a special feat that not many are lucky enough to experience. She’s watched Riley’s jaw set with age, her teeth fall out and regrow over the years, her voice roughen with puberty. But now, when she needs that seemingly impenetrable bond most, there’s nothing. A voyage from splendor to oblivion, from brilliance to shadowy nihility. 

Friends. What a joke.

Ellie looks down at Dahlia’s curious eyes and can’t bring herself to get mad at her. It’s not the child’s fault that the world is so cruel, so faulty. She’s yet to be exposed to such torment, and she likely never will. Not after she was Reaped. Not after you inevitably steal the victor’s crown from the hands of twenty-three innocent tributes.

“There can’t be friends in the Hunger Games, Dahlia.” Ellie says solemnly, gaze softening.

“Yes there can.” She speaks as though there's not a doubt in her mind. Perhaps there’s not. Perhaps the purity of youth is all anyone can cling to for a sense of clarity in a world such as this. Dahlia presses her lips together, mouth twisting to the side. “Friends can be made anywhere, my mom said. So long as you’re willing to maintain them.”

“Your mom must be a very wise woman.” 

“Oh, she is. She’s a preschool teacher back in Eleven.” Dahlia says proudly. “She’s had hundreds of kids and she’s never wrong.”

“I suppose teachers rarely are, huh?”

She nods. “They’re the bravest of us all, I think. Nobody else is fearless enough to tolerate such unruly kids, daily.”

“Yeah,” Ellie chuckles.

She’s not exactly the best person to have the conversation with. The entire reason she and Riley met was because they happened to be sneaking out of school at the same time. Ellie was fleeing the concrete building when she spotted Riley scaling the fence, just barely out of sight from the Peacekeepers that patrolled the campus.

Point is, she’s feeling a bit on edge at the moment—speaking to a child about the morality of professors, knowing damn well she was the most disrespectful student any of hers had the displeasure of teaching. Despite this, she manages to maintain a rather monotonous conversation with Dahlia about this, happy to indulge the girl enough to keep her attention away from the initial reason behind their meeting here. She’d withhold this small talk all day, if she needed to.

Anything to keep her mind off of you.

However, the comfortability of the dull discussion is cut off when Dahlia somehow manages to loop the topic right back to Ellie’s ear. And she does it so seamlessly that it’s almost impressive, as if she’d planned it all along.

“Another thing my mom always talks about,” She says, “Is honesty. How good people shouldn’t be punished for bad peoples’ misdeeds.”

The look she gives Ellie’s ear is enough to make her swallow harshly, unable to form a good response to the accusation.

“Y/n is a good person, right? Why is she getting all the effects caused by Nolan’s badness?” Dahlia sounds more like she’s simply thinking aloud rather than speaking to Ellie. “It doesn’t make sense. You should be honest, tell everyone that he hurt you and she was being a good person by defending you.”

“Sorry, kid.” Ellie sighs. “But it’s far more complicated than that.”

“How?” Dahlia shoots back.

Too many ways. First of all, Nolan is a career tribute despite being Reaped from District Ten. He’s trained for brutality and expects to be shown respect. Ellie, albeit unintentionally, dismounted this by fooling him. He’s a victim to the Games just as everyone else is. Second, you weren’t technically defending Ellie. You pushed him for her, sure, but you hit him because of what he’d said about your family. And if that were to be revealed to the Capitol, they’d likely have Nolan turned into an Avox for speaking ill of the L/ns—which is terribly dramatic and unfair on their part. Lastly, Ellie would be seen as weak for needing to be protected. Plus, considering all that’s happened between the two of you, she doesn’t much wish to see you praised for saving her.

“How about this,” Ellie proposes, “Why don’t we go ask Remy what to do? He’d be good friends with Y/n because they’re from the same district, wouldn’t you think?”

“Hmm,” Dahlia hums in thought, “Maybe…”

She places her hands on each of Dahlia’s shoulders and begins to lead her out from behind the weaponry, bringing her back into the gym area with everyone else. She quickly gazes around the room until she spots where Remy remains at the shelter-making station, patiently picking up a stick that’s fallen from the shabby roof. 

He looks up as Dahlia and Ellie approach, his eyes widening.

Ellie hasn’t spoken to Remy, only having seen him in passing. He seems to be far more shy than Dahlia—who is quite outspoken and, as it turns out, unafraid to confront people. His build is far smaller than any of the other kids, appearing to be three years younger than he actually is. His body is thin, topped with a head of curly brown hair and big eyes filled with wonder. 

“Dahlia, meet Remy.” Ellie says, hoping this will manage to get her out of the accusatory conversation regarding her wounded ear. “Remy, meet Dahlia.”

Remy doesn’t have the chance to speak before Dahlia is jumping right to the point. “Your partner, Y/n, did you notice anything odd about her last night?”

Ellie is a bit impressed, as well as grateful, that she’d refrained from blurting out the entire situation to him. She knew there was a high chance someone had witnessed the entire scene, though she was far more caught up in other issues to care much for possibilities such as that. Dahlia’s refrain is a good sign that she won’t go around telling random people.

“She–” Remy blinks, his brown eyes flicking between Ellie and Dahlia repeatedly. His hands begin to fiddle with the stick he’s still holding onto. He makes an expression of discomfort, revealing his crooked teeth with gaps between each one. “I– uh, I don’t talk to her much. She was in her room all last night, I think. I didn’t see her. Not– She didn’t show up to dinner, I don’t think.”

“Did she talk to your mentor about anything related to Nolan?” Dahlia interrogates him, leaning closer with wide eyes. Remy looks terrified as he takes a careful step away from her. 

“Nolan?”

“Yeah.” Dahlia nods. “He’s the buff guy from Ten. Did they mention him?”

“I–I don’t know what they talk about.” He tells her shakily. “They don’t talk much. If they do, it’s private. Or– Well, sometimes they argue? I dunno. They’re weird.”

Ellie frowns, thinking of the things you’d told her about your brother—you two were best friends as kids until he was Reaped. It vaguely reminds her of Riley and herself. She imagines a small child watching them in the suite. Having to bear witness to the tension and unspoken words. That must be a heavyweight on his shoulder, on all of your shoulders.

She pats Dahlia on the head before she can interrogate him further. “Alrighty. Let’s leave him alone for now, yeah?”

“But–”

“C’mon,” She says, “You can show me what animals you were reading about.”

This seems to excite the girl, brown eyes lighting up. She grabs Ellie by the wrist and tugs her toward the animal station. As she’s pulled away from Remy, she casts a glance over her shoulder just in time to see his frown. He’s twisting the stick in his hands as he stares at the floor, expression saddened. He’s never looked smaller.

Dahlia sits Ellie down on the wooden bench and begins telling her all about the random creatures in her book. She nods along to what she’s saying, though her mind is elsewhere. On Remy, on you.

Is Remy disheartened because of Dahlia's pushiness to know about you? Or is it about the Games in general? If it’s to be the former, Ellie wonders why. Nothing too bad could happen within the suite considering the abundance of cameras around the center. Does he have issues back home that plague his mind, or is it just you? Ellie wishes desperately that she could see all that’s happened within the fourth floor. Just for a few moments. Just for a few answers.

Not only to uncover the root to Remy’s despondency but also for her own selfishness. A beastly feeling that rears its head in your proximity. The desire to know more, more, more about you. It sickens her to know that this is what the entire Capitol feels—an insatiable yearning to become acquainted with the L/ns. She’s nothing more than one of them, yet another poor soul to have fallen in the trap of your lineage.

But, worse than that, she can’t seem to hate you for it. She’d gotten to know you quite well in the past few days. Even if it were all a trick of your own concoction, she can’t stop thinking of those words you’d shared in regards to Cat. 

“We weren’t much of anything before we were nothing.” Ellie had said.

“Yet you were still something.” You pointed out. “That’s what matters.”

Perhaps there’s a common denominator here, and it’s Ellie. She’d been with women before, and plenty of them. Her first relationship was when she was in year six, having dated a girl for two days before they broke up over something childish and dumb. Then, in highschool, she dated Riley for half of a year, though they eventually came to realize that they work best as friends. Then there was Cat—a girl she met at the Hob while selling her quarry. They were sleeping together on and off for two years before the Reaping, never having assigned the title of girlfriend to their relationship. 

Ellie has no idea what your dating history looks like, but she’s certain it’s not as pathetic as her own. She’d never been with anyone seriously. Even when she was with Riley, they didn’t do anything more than hold hands and kiss. And Cat hardly counts in actuality—though the emotional effects remain prominent despite the lack of acknowledgement. 

She’s annoyed that you left her, yes, but there had to be something more. You kissed her as though you were just as desirous as she. Plus, the look of fear in your eyes when you pulled away pointed to something other than a mere change of heart.

Her hopes were to talk to you today, to sort through everything that's happened. But you didn’t show up to training, which she should have expected. Maybe she’ll be able to catch you in the halls or something. As long as it takes place before the Games, she hardly minds the circumstantial location. Because as soon as you’re all placed into the arena, there’s no possibility that she’ll be able to have a conversation with you. And, even if you two miraculously ran into each other, your words would have to be cryptic due to the cameras.

It might be pathetic, but Ellie doesn’t even care what happens. Regardless of whether you scream at her or hug her, the ending will be the same—her dead in the arena as you exit as a Diamond. She just wants closure before she’s killed. Because this has been driving her insane all day. She slept a total of thirty minutes last night, actually.

“-–And this is a tree-rat.” Dahlia says as Ellie turns back into her words. “They’re Capitol made, I believe. Look at their snouts, that’s not evolutionarily induced.”

Ellie nods, humming as Dahlia points to the photograph on the laminated page before she begins reading out the paragraph below it that explains the animal’s function. Her voice is so soft, her fingers so thin. It’s absolutely monstrous that she’s expected to fight to the death in the arena. Especially when the ages this year stretch so high. 

After a conversion with Joel last night over dinner, Ellie found out that the tributes from Twelve are in their late forties. Due to the lack of children in their District, middle-aged citizens took up the majority of the slips of paper. In Twelve, hundreds of kids die everyday due to starvation. Even if a child were to be Reaped, they’d likely have killed themself upon seeing the food on the train—accidentally filling their bellies too full.

The men seemed ominous when Ellie saw them during prior training days, looming over the other tributes creepily. Joel informed her that their names were David and James. David has a red nose and grey hair parted in the side. James is always wearing a beanie over his greasy hair, sticking to David like glue.

Ellie looks across the room at Remy’s crooked smile as he finally finishes creating a shelter. A few stations down, Sam is getting better at creating a fire, Henry cheering loudly whenever he manages to create a spark. She then gazes down at Dahlia’s expression of excitement as she goes on about a random fish. These kids are so innocent, so undeserving of this fate. There’s also Cooper Whitlock from Eleven and Lev from Two. 

Never, in the history of the Games, have so many children been Reaped. This year’s arena must be especially brutal.

10:42.

TRAINING CENTER, FLOOR 4.

You’ve hardly left your room today, seeking the comfort of privacy. You’d lowered the temperature last night so the air is freezing, causing you to burrow under your heavy blankets with heightened vehemency. Plus, the metallic machine built into the wall beside your door can materialize food, so there’s really no reason to leave. You have everything you need.

You’ve fallen in and out of slumber all morning, your dreams filled with distorted images of various people in your life—Ruben, your mother, Remy, Ellie, Alice. It’s disturbing, the malformity. Each dream ends the same, causing you to wake with a jolt every time. It ends with a very distinct sound. Your mother’s cane slamming against tiled flooring. The word ‘again’ ringing through your ears in a gravelly voice that sounds like a mix of everyone’s. Over time, as you’ve experienced this over and over, the sound starts to remind you of something else. Of a lighter falling from a pocket.

“Again.” The mangled voice croons, hot breath tickling the back of your neck. You oblige, body fatigued with overexertion. You try your hardest to train without fault, to be perfectly flawless in each move you make. But, as always, you misstep. Right beside your ear, a loud clacking sound is heard. It’s so loud, reverberating through your skull as the floor shatters beneath your feet.

You jolt awake, chest heaving as you sit up in your bed. Despite the cold air of your room, you’re coated in sweat. Just like each time prior to this, you have to look around to remind yourself that the dream wasn’t real. 

A half-eaten plate of food sits on your nightstand, thin rays of sunlight struggling to squeeze between your closed curtains. On your desk resides an abandoned notebook with a minimum of twenty pages torn from the spine. It wasn’t real. It was a dream. Again.

Just as you begin to burrow down into the bed, a knocking is heard at the door. Knuckles on wood, wood on metal, metal on tile. It all sounds the same. Knocking, clacking, clanging. A fist, a cane, a lighter. With a deep breath, you sit upright and attempt to straighten out your hair.

“Come in.” You call out, though your fingers continue to battle with the tangled strands.

The door creaks open and Ruben’s head pokes through the crack. His expression is soft as he speaks harshly, “It’s almost noon, get off your ass.”

You lift your head, recognizing the look in his eye. He doesn’t mean his words, they’re forged by the Capitol. He’s unable to speak his mind, even in the privacy of your assigned bedroom. But this isn’t your bedroom, is it? It’s the equivalent to a pigpen where animals for slaughter are kept prior to their death. There’s nothing comforting about that.

You kick the blanket from your body, suddenly feeling disgusted by it all. 

Ruben continues to watch you from the doorway, arms crossed over his chest to paint a facade of impatience. He sighs, “You look horrible.” 

This statement is actually true. You’ve yet to take a shower or brush your hair, still wearing the outfit that you’d worn while watching a movie with him last night. The ratings are in an hour and a half, just enough time for you to clean yourself up.

“I’ll take a shower then come down for lunch.” You say, feigning obedience.

“Good.” Ruben speaks harshly before turning on his heel and leaving the room, slamming the door behind him. That was a nice touch, you ought to admit.

You remain in your bed for a few moments even after he’s left, staring at the wall as your mind reels. You’ve yet to give yourself time to process things—anything. Whenever your brain begun to stray, you’d simply fallen back asleep. Now that that’s no longer an option, you feel as though you’re drowning in your own thoughts. Good thing you’re from Four, you’re rather skilled at staying afloat.

With a deep inhale, you stand from the bed. Cold air licks down your spine, tracing goosebumps along the entirety of your skin. Shivering, you walk over to the thermostat and reset the temperature back to a normal setting. You then enter the bathroom and strip out of your nightclothes.

The warm water is heavenly in contrast to the biting air outside of the bathroom. Your body visibly relaxes under the heat, allowing the shower to rain down as you stand there, unmoving.

It reminds you of the sea from Four. Despite only having visited a few times—due to your parents prohibiting any unnecessary expeditions from home—you’d come to love it. The endlessness of the horizon, the sound of crashing waves, the scent of salt. Oh, if you were to live in your ideal oasis, it’d be the ocean. Such tranquility for something deemed to be evil. The ocean is a woman, always has been and always will be. And that in itself is enough to make you fond of her.

You can easily recall the days you and Ruben were brave enough to sneak to the beach. Sand squished beneath your toes as Ruben splashed around in the waves. He’d pick you up by the arms over each comber. You giggled as he hauled you into the air, your eyes shut and mouth wide with delight. 

I mean, it was so close to your home. You needed only to walk three minutes South and you were in the surf. Plus, contradictory to your parents’ beliefs, nobody even noticed the two of you. Until they did.

One time, when your parents were called to the Capitol for a few days for some kind of Diamond party, you and Ruben snuck down to the beach. You had begged him to take you, pleading as he continuously refused. Eventually, however, he gave in—as he always did when it came to you. It was noon when you’d reached the sandy dunes, wind whipping through your hair. You giggled and ran through the hot sediment toward the surf. Ruben, carrying all your belongings, clambered after you with a heavy sigh. You were seven, he was twelve. You were both so blissfully unaware of the calamity that would evoke in the year to follow.

Ruben set up the umbrella and chairs as you darted straight for the water, laughing the whole way down. The waves were rough, stretching far higher than normal. Not that you paid much mind. By the time Ruben joined you in the water, you were deep into the ocean—enough so that your feet came off the ground when the waves rolled in.

“You’re too far out, Y/n, c’mon.” He said, grabbing your wrist as he began to tug you toward the shore. You groaned, though you allowed yourself to be led away. You floated on your back as he gently pulled you through the rippled water.

He stopped once the water was shallow enough to have reached his knees and your belly button. You frowned, “I wanna go deeper, Ru.”

His lips thinned, casting a glance out at the horizon. The waves were huge, white-capping as they curled into themselves. A few, out deeper, even reached three feet in height. Ruben turned back to you with a pointed expression. “Maybe later. It’s too windy right now.”

“Fine.” You huffed, though you weren’t entirely swayed into conduct. 

The two of you ended up having lots of fun, notwithstanding your prior complaints. He taught you the names of different fish, though the ones you were able to see were only varieties of different minnows. He also showed you how to read the tides, explaining the way the moon’s gravity pulls the water like a rope. You didn’t understand it, but appreciated the lesson. As he pointed out at the horizon, moving on to explain the underwater currents, something deep in your chest yearned to venture forth. Like a tether tied you to the deep blue. You ignored it, knowing it’d be best to obey your brother’s orders. He knows best, after all.

The sun moved along its coast through the sky, inching lower as the hours ticked by. By the time pink clouds were beginning to feather through the vacant blueness, Ruben decided it was time to eat something. He’d packed the ingredients to make fish sandwiches, stored away in his green bag that sat by the umbrella. 

“Can I swim for a little while longer?” You asked him. 

“Fine.” He gave in instantly. “But only while I prepare the food. Once it’s done, you’re eating with me, okay?”

“Okay!” You agreed, nodding with a wide smile.

He kissed you on the head before wading through the water back to the sand. You watched him go, salty water trickling down his scarred legs as he crouched into the sand. He dug through the bag, his back facing you.

You turned toward the water, cupping your hands around your eyes as you looked for the fish he’d taught you about. You see a school of shiners and a few fatheads. Then, a large shadow catches your gaze. Childish curiosity filled you as the huge fish swam through the seagrass. Eyes still downcast, you began to follow it. As the fish sped up, so did you. Giggling, you wandered deeper into the water as the fish swam out to sea. Before you knew it, the waves were washing over your head.

A particularly large wave swiped your feet out from under you, causing your entire body to be pulled under the wash. You resurfaced a few feet away from where you’d just been, the current having tugged you away like a puppet. You coughed, throat burning with salt as you treaded water. 

“Ru?” You called out in a rough voice. You spun in a circle only to find water on all sides of you. The waves kept coming, washing you under the surface. Panic gripped you by the neck as your legs kicked in the water. You began to cry. “Ruben!”

Another wave, another shout. You began to see the sand in the troughs of the waves, golden  and glistening like a beacon. Your arms were getting tired, the current only pulling you farther and farther from shore. Suddenly, someone was grabbing your wrist. Young, alone, and taught to trust nobody, you instantly kicked them in the breastbone. 

Cursing under their breath, the person released you. It was a stranger, a middle aged woman who was big enough to touch the ground with her feet. You breathed hard, tears streaking your salty face. She sputtered, looking up at you with a worried expression. It quickly faded to astonishment as her eyes widened in recognition. “You’re Y/n L/n.”

You continued to stare at her, still treading water and still crying. You called for Ruben again, which only confirmed her suspicion. 

“I can take you to him.” She claimed, holding out her hand.

A mixture of youthful naivety and lack of choices caused you to take her hand. She held you on her hip as she walked through the water. You continued to cry as she attempted to make conversation—asking about your family and what you’re doing all alone. You didn’t answer her, uninterested in such small talk.

By the time you reached the shore, Ruben was already running over to you. The moment you saw him, you kicked the woman hard in the side and caused her to drop you into the sand. You quickly pushed to your feet and ran to your brother, sobbing incoherent apologies. He ran his fingers through your hair, pressing kisses to your head as he assured you that everything was fine now that he knew you were okay.

That night, word got back to your parents in the Capitol. Word of their children causing quite the scene at a beach. You two had made headlines within a few hours—’Little Y/n L/n, lost at sea, saved by a kind passerby who she’d repaid with violence. Sounds like she’s already an innate victor with such instinctive barbarity.’

Your parents came home earlier than planned, having stormed into the house in the middle of the night. You’d been curled up against Ruben when they slammed open the bedroom door and flipped on the light. You had barely rubbed the sleep from your eyes when your father clamped his hands around your ankles and tore you from the bed. You slammed against the floor, instantly woken.

He held out a crumpled newspaper, “What the fuck is this?”

“I–” Your eyes were wide as a bruise already began to form on your back where you’d smacked the hardwood floor. “I don’t know what–” “I told her it was a good idea.” Ruben spoke up from the bed, voice quiet and shaky. You were taken aback by the blatant lie, though he didn’t back down. “I knew you guys would be gone for two days and– Well, I’d always wanted to go to the beach, so…”

That did it. That was enough for your parents to redirect the blame. 

You’d so rarely seen your father. He was always holed up in his home within the victor’s village. But he was beckoned to the Capitol alongside your mother and so they likely heard the news in unison. As such, they decided to act on their unanimous rage together.

As a child as young as you were, it’s expected to have missed your father. Even in knowing of his faults and abusiveness, you still yearned for his being in your life. This night erased that with entirety.

You spent the rest of that night sobbing in your bed. You trembled under your blankets, your pillow clutched to cover your ears from the sounds of your brother’s screams. You could hear the noises of impact before another scream left him. Or, more worryingly, you wouldn’t hear him getting hit. Just the screams.

Needless to say, that was your last visit to the beach.

And the last time your parents ever trusted you guys enough to leave you home alone.

As the warm water washes over your body, relaxing your tensed muscles, you can’t help but feel that same sense of guilt that you had all those years ago. Lying in your bed, cold and alone, naught but shame crept up your throat.

That same sense of self depreciation embodies you now. For what, however, you’re nescient. It could be for causing Ruben to put on a facade of hatred for the Capitol; it could be for having left Ellie last night due to your own past misery. But both are lucid, right? Ruben knows you hit Nolan for a reason and admitted to having forgiven you. And Ellie is one of the most understanding people you know. Tonight, when the two of you meet on the roof, you’ll explain everything. She’ll listen, as she always does. She’ll forgive you, because that’s the type of person she is.

You didn’t attend training today because you couldn’t seem to pull yourself from bed. 

Last night, after the events on the roof, you snuck into Ruben’s bedroom in the dark of night. Just as you’d promised. The two of you watched a movie, just as you had as kids. It was awkward at first—sitting a few feet away from each other and not speaking a word. But, as time passed, that familiar sense of comfortability overtook you both. This wasn’t Ruben, the morphling Capitol Diamond. This was Ru, your big brother.

You turn off the faucet and wrap yourself in a towel, dripping water onto the tiled floor. The bathroom is huge, stretching to be at least thirty feet long and ten feet wide. The mirrors are fogged and you wipe your hand across the glass to see your reflection. There are bags under your eyes. Part of you wants to cover every inch of your skin in makeup to conceal the lack of sleep you’d gotten. But another, more satisfying, part of you wishes to show up to the Observation room a mess. The Gamemakers love your brother for his beauty. They’re likely itching to get their eyes on you, praying to the heavens that you’ll be just as easily exploited. 

“Hurry up!” Ruben calls through the door. “Your outfit is sitting on the bed.”

Every tribute is to wear an identical outfit so as to not flaunt individuality. To the Capitol, the tributes are no more important to them than a blade of grass crushed beneath their boots. For them to showcase their personalities and feelings would be to make themselves personified, human.

You leave the bathroom, dress into your assigned clothing, and head to the living room. Everyone is already waiting there. Alice is crouched down, fiddling with Remy’s messy curls. Ruben is leaned against the wall, watching. When he spots you, his lips tug upward in fondness. He’s quick to hide it, but not quick enough for it to have gone unnoticed. Not by you at least, perhaps by the cameras though.

“Took you long enough.” He grumbles.

You shoot him a look just as feigned. “I just couldn’t get enough of Capitolistic delicacies. Their showers here are wonderful.”

Ruben has to look away to avoid laughing at your evident sarcasm. Alice looks up, appearing pleased by your display of appreciation, unaware of its insincerity. She stands to her feet, brushing her hands on her frilly skirt. “That’s good to hear, Y/n, I’m glad you’re finding comfort here.”

“As am I.” You smile.

Ruben falls into a coughing fit. You know him well enough to recognize this as a way to hide his laughter—a trick you’d both abused at the dinner table with your parents. When he’d make a comment that went over your father’s head or when you’d make a face to mock your mother. Coughing was always a good way to shield humor.

Once he’s managed to regain sanity and Alice has finished tampering with Remy’s mused curls, the four of you head down to the cafeteria. In the elevator, Ruben turns to you.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” He says.

“It’s just an evaluation,” You roll your eyes at him, “I think I’ll be fine.”

He gives you a pointed look. “I know you. I know you’ll be tempted to do something foolish. All I’m asking is that you don’t act on impulse.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The elevator doors open to reveal a bustling hallway. Tributes, mentors, and escorts walk around. Mentors give their final pieces of advice, escorts attempt to tidy up appearance, and tributes try not to puke from nerves. 

You try to pick out the people you recognize. Nora Harris, the mentor for District Eight, speaks gently with a nervous Raven Hansley. You hardly remember Raven from training because all she did was study plants and animals, never practicing any sort of combat. A few feet down the hall from them, Dina Woodward is braiding Dahlia’s hair. She speaks soothingly to the child, her hands moving with gentility. Even farther down, Abigail Anderson is speaking with Owen Moore—the mentor for District Ten—in a hushed voice. 

Mentors and escorts are prohibited entry into the Observation room. They’re not even allowed into the cafeteria where you’ll wait for your name to be called. They have the choice to either head back to their suite or wait in the hall for their tributes to return. Seems like most of them have yet to enter the cafeteria, even. 

It takes less than a minute before Ruben is pulled into a conversation with another mentor. You turn and recognize her to be Thea Thatcher—Thalia’s older sister. She won the 68th Games. Thea starts small talk with Ruben, which he returns kindly. You find the conversation a bore, though you remain at his side, scowling at her silently. Remy doesn’t dare stray far either, practically clinging to Alice as she starts a conversation with Tilly down the hall. You turn in her direction, squinting. But you don’t see Joel—or Ellie—anywhere. She must already be inside waiting.

Slowly, the crowd begins to disperse. The tributes enter the cafeteria and the mentors either take their leave or remain in wait. You see that Abigail and Owen both leave once their tributes have entered, though Dina stands in the hallway to wait for her youthful tributes’ return. She’ll be waiting a while, though, seeing as they’re from Eleven.

You make a mental note of all the mentors you didn’t see. The ones that likely arrived earlier than everyone else. Teresa Servopoulos from Three, Maria and Joel Miller from Five and Seven, Bill from Nine, and Stephen Lawrence from Twelve. Everyone else, you spotted in the hallway at least once. These are the people who, either don’t give a shit about formalities and didn’t care to show up, or care a lot arrived prematurely.

“C’mon, then.” Ruben says once Thea has long since left. “I think Alice already walked Remy inside, I don’t see either of them.”

You nod in agreement, walking with him down to the cafeteria. You pass Dina, Thea, Nora, and Jordan who have all decided to wait for their tributes. Thea, you can understand, because Thalia is her sister and she’ll return sooner than anyone else seeing as she’s from One. Going back to the suite would be pointless, really. Dina, you know, is big hearted and is waiting because of how young her tributes are. You don’t know much about Nora, but you know one of her tributes is Deaf, so perhaps that’s a reason behind why she’s waiting. You respect Ashley though, you don’t pity her. She’s strong, more so than a lot of the other tributes. You’re sure she’ll make it far in the Games. And Jordan, who is the mentor for Roland and Archie—the lovers from Six—you’re completely unsure of why he’s waiting.

“You’re so nosey.” Ruben says, nudging you along as he notices your staring.

“I’m just observant.” You reply. “It’s a good habit to have.”

“I suppose.” He shrugs before pushing the cafeteria door open for you. Just before you’re able to walk through, he places a hand on your shoulder. You turn to him. “Remember what I said about your impulsiveness. Don’t be reckless.”

You shrug his hand away, giving him an expression of reassurance. “I got it, Ru, don’t worry.”

He nods, though it’s clear that you did little to ease his nervosity. The doors shut behind him and you enter the cafeteria. Large, circular tables are spread across the room. Most people have paired up by District, sitting with their partners from the Reaping. There’s also the Careers, who have already formed their group prior to the Games.

You see where Ellie sits beside Riley. Dahlia has also joined them, appearing to be talking Riley’s ear off. Brows furrowed, you look around for her District partner, Cooper Whitlock. Then you see him and oh. Oh, that poor boy. He’s joined up with the Careers. 

You turn back to where Dahlia sits, only to find that Ellie’s eyes are pinned on you. The hairs on your neck rise at the feel of her gaze piercing straight through you. You know exactly what she’s communicating. With a twitch of her brow, you know. She has no clue why you left last night. Yet you’re both aware that you’re doomed. From the very start, you’re doomed.

You consider walking over there and explaining it. Saying everything that begins to bubble in your throat. But then you catch another sight in your peripheral. Remy. He’s sitting all alone at a small metal table, his leg bouncing with nerves. With one last apologetic glance shot Ellie’s way, you turn on your heel and head toward him.

She’ll understand. She’s kind and compassionate and she will. She will understand when you explain everything tonight. When you explain that your mother’s ghost still haunts you; when you explain that the kiss you shared was rapture incarnate; when you explain that, despite the perfection of the moment, it can never happen again; when you explain that the Games are a wall built to keep the two of you separate, that’s how it is and that’s how it forever will remain. She’ll understand because she’s Ellie and she’s never done anything wrong.

“Thalia Thatcher from District One.” A scratchy voice calls over the intercom. Immediately, the girl stands from her table and walks over to the Observation room with a high held chin. Her hair is platinum blonde and perfectly straight as she walks past your table, brown eyes contorted into a sharp glare. Okay, then. Fuck her too.

It’s twenty minutes before the next name is called. Anthea Solace from One. She spends thirty minutes in the room before Lev from Two is called. Then Yara. Each tribute takes between twenty to forty minutes during evaluation. Throughout it all, the cafeteria is completely silent, waiting for the next name to be announced. This evaluation is the make or break of a tribute’s reputation. It’s the only way to show off your skills prior to the Games. The only way to show the sponsors your skill via the rating you’re given. Nobody will know what happens within the Observation room, but everyone will see the score. It’s imperative that it’s high.

Ellie’s eyes remain pinned on you for the entire two and a half hours that you wait for your name. The whole time, you refuse to look in her direction. You sit beside Remy, your back straightened. His knee has yet to cease its bouncing, eyes blown wide in anxiety. The tension in the room is so high that you’re almost glad to hear your name called.

You stand from the table, the entire cafeteria silent as you walk over to the double doors that lead to the hallway. You push them open and walk down to the Observation room. The door is heavy, though you find that the air within hangs even heavier.

The floors are concrete, walls lined with various weapons to choose from. There are targets for archery and knife throwing, dummies for spears and swords. High above, a small room overlooks the gym. Within it resides the Gamemakers. They sit on plush couches with tables full of warm foods and bubbly drinks. They live in luxury, haphazardly giving scores to tributes without much care. Without thinking of how this can end someone’s life.

They stare down at you with anticipation, expressions ranging from greed to hunger to lust. Your stomach churns as you look up at them. They’re excited. They’re leaning forward to watch you with wide eyes, itching to see what you do. You’re your father’s son, your brother’s sister. You’re bound for greatness and they cannot fucking wait to see you in the arena. Can’t wait to see how you fight to survive. How you look when you’re hungry, when you’re killing someone, when you’re bathing.

What weapon will you grab? How long will you take? What score will you get?

Overcome with disgust and rage for the Capitol, you make an impulsive decision. You hadn’t known, at first, what Ruben meant by recklessness. It was just an evaluation. You walk in, throw a few knives, and leave. But now? Under their beady-eyed appetency? You know exactly what he was telling you not to do. And you do it.

With a scoff, you turn on your heel and exit the room. You won’t give them a show. You don’t feed their yearning stomachs. You won’t provide them with anything they can use against you. You won’t play their Games.

14:32.

TRAINING CENTER, CAFETERIA.

You only spent a minute in the Observation room. The next name is called almost immediately after you. Ellie’s brow creases in confusion. Everyone else spent roughly half an hour each. And yet, here you are, always managing to stand out.

It irks her.

Yesterday, she’d have been overcome with piqued interest and wide eyes. But not now. Not after you left her last night, didn’t show up to training, and blatantly ignored her in the cafeteria. She knew it would happen. She knew you wouldn’t be able to speak to her. But, for some reason, it still pisses her off to know that you value your reputation above her.

And she knows it’s stupid. You two have only known each other for three days and spent the majority of our time together illegally smoking. But still. And she’s even more angry at herself for being angry in the first place.

Another hour passes before Riley’s name is called. She doesn’t say a word, standing from the table and leaving silently. They’ve still yet to speak. And that adds yet another weight on Ellie’s chest. It’s too much all at once and she thinks the tonnage might crush her like an insect. 

“Are you nervous?” Dahlia’s voice is below a whisper as she speaks.

Ellie gives her a small smile. “Everyone is.”

“Even the strong people over there?” She nods toward the Careers—Lev, Yara, Nolan, Thalia, Violetta, Ashley, and little Cooper. Ellie has no idea why they allowed Cooper into their group, but it can’t be good. Whatever it means, it’ll lead to his demise in the end.

“Yes.” Ellie confirms. “Even them.” Dahlia nods, attempting to ground herself. Just then, the intercom clicks on and a distorted voice comes through the buzzing speaker. “Ellie Williams from District Seven.” She pats Dahlia on the shoulder before standing to her feet. 

Riley spent thirty four minutes in the Observation room. Ellie wishes they still spoke because she’s dying to know what she did. She wishes they could sneak into each other’s room and share their respective stories from the evaluation. But that’s not possible, not now. She enters the room with a sigh.

She doesn’t even look at the Gamemakers before she walks over to the bows and arrows. She can hear their chatter, but pays them no mind. She stands on the white line painted a few yards away from the target. Bow in hand, she holds it out in front of her. She shuts one eye, pulling the arrow back. With a grin at knowing it’ll land perfectly, she lets it fly. Just as anticipated, the point of the arrow lands right on the target. Perfect aim.

Her heart beats fast in her chest. Maybe she’ll get a high score. She looks up at the Gamemaker’s room only to see they’re not even looking at her. They’re getting drunk, talking and laughing together over hearsay. Anger traces through her body, igniting within her bones.

Not a single one watched her.

There’s a fancy lightbulb hanging from the ceiling on a thin chain. It’s the only source of light in their little room. Without thinking, she grabs a second arrow and aims it upward. Urged by vexation alone, she pulls it back as far as it’ll go before releasing it.

The arrow wizzes through the air before the point collides with the thin chain, snapping it easily.

The bulb falls to the floor, glass shattering all around the room. The Gamemakers fall silent within the blackened room. With shock, their heads turn toward the tribute of cause. They hadn’t even been keeping up with who was in the room. But here she is. Ellie Williams. 

She scowls at them deeply for a moment before slamming the wooden bow onto the floor and storming out of the room without dismissal. She slams the door behind her loud enough to cause the mentors waiting in the hall to jolt. They all appear annoyed. Except for Dina Woodward, who looks more amused than irritated. Ellie hates her. 

Well, that was dramatic. She doesn’t have Dina. She hates everything. The residual anger in her body is so overwhelmingly vast that it clouds her vision and tightens her throat. She can hear the muffled announcement of Raven Hansley’s name being called as she enters the elevator. She punches the number seven button. When the doors slide open, her anger hasn’t so much as inched lower. If anything, it seems to be growing. Her hands are shaking and she can’t puzzle out why.

“How was it?” Tilly asks as soon as she enters the suite. She’d barely had time to fucking breathe before the woman is on her. 

Ellie shoots her a glare. “You’ll find out along with everyone else when the scores are revealed.”

“Oh,” Tilly frowns, “Well, then.”

Ellie brushes past her. Joel and Riley are in the sitting room, likely talking about how her evaluation went. Normally, Ellie would rush to join them as she’s eager to hear about Riley’s experience. But not now. Not when her emotions are swallowing her whole.

She enters her room, accidentally slamming the door behind her. She tears the outfit off her body, the high neckline feeling as though it’s choking her. She changes into something more comfortable, opting to spend the next few hours in her bedroom until she has to watch the scores be announced.

She sits at her desk, sketching random items. But nothing looks right. The lines are too choppy, the lighting is completely abstract. She ends up balling up twenty pages before she gives up.

Why is she so mad? It’s no shock, really, that the Gamemakers weren’t paying her any mind. She halfway expected it. There wasn’t that high of a chance that they'd be anticipating her arrival. That they’d give a damn about tributes like her—tributes that weren’t you. She wonders how your evaluation went. Did you walk in, give them a charming smile, and leave? She wouldn’t put it past you. The Capitolites would eat that up. You’d easily earn a fucking twelve for flashing them a grin.

That’s when it registers.

She’s not mad, she’s overwhelmed. All the shit from these past few days is finally coming crashing down on her. That would explain that shaky hands and ragged breathing. She tries a different approach. Instead of forcing herself to sit still and draw something, she lies on her bed and allows her mind to swarm.

Marlene. What was the first thing that she thought when she heard Ellie’s name called? Did her breath hitch? Did her eyes water? Did she feel like her child was being ripped away? Or did she just avert her gaze, not wishing to witness the effects of the Capitol infiltrate into her personal life?

Riley. What the hell is going on inside her head? For the majority of Ellie’s life, she could easily read what she was thinking. She could decipher each and every thought that brushed through her mind. To have been stripped of that, to have a security blanket torn from her? She feels bare and vulnerable. She doesn’t have her best friend to run to, she doesn’t have anyone to confide in.

Which is likely why she found such comfort in you. From the moment she got on that train in Seven, she was advised to stay as far away from you as possible. She was told that you were from a family of murderers and had such blood in your veins. Yet, she refused to heed that warning. She met up with you in secret, smoking illegally with the cigarettes Joel was kind enough to lend her. She confided in you because she was dumb enough to think you’d done the same. But who’s to say you weren’t spouting complete lies? Nobody knows anything about you. Each word that left your mouth could have been untrue and Ellie would have absolutely no way of knowing. Despite this, she kissed you. Or you kissed her. Whatever the small details may be, your lips met nonetheless. 

Which brings her to Cat. For the first time, she allows herself to truly contemplate all that happened regarding her. Sure, the relationship itself was never set in stone. Yes, everything they shared was built on sand. And yes, she ended up slipping right through Ellie’s fingers. But it still felt real. She still cared for her and loved her. Cat explained everything in the Justice Building, Ellie simply hadn't been listening. She was blinded by her own sorrow to recognize that Cat was acting for her. She was acting out of love. She ended things with Ellie because she knew that continuing would only add more layers of  complication. Ellie would go into the arena with a lover back home. No. Not back home. Here, in the Capitol. A stylist. Her stylist. God, how fucked up is that? If anyone were to figure that out, they could both be arrested. Turned into enslaved, muted Avoxes. 

Cat did what she did for Ellie. And she returned the favor by kissing you. By abandoning what they had for you—someone who doesn’t give a single damn about her. Someone who plans on killing her as soon as you’re put into the arena together. How stupid could she be? She needs to get her head screwed on right. She needs to stop evading her feelings to chase momentary bliss. 

A knock at her door grounds her.

Good. 

She needs to explain everything to Joel and Alice. She needs to tell them that she’d just fucked up any chance she had at obtaining sponsors. The Gamemakers are sure to give her a low rank. They might even punish Ellie by killing Marlene—as a way to show that defying the Capitol never ends well. She needs to tell Joel. Maybe he can do something. He’s good at this stuff, right?

Ellie opens her door to see Joel in the doorway. 

“Perfect.” She speaks.

He raises a brow. “What’re you on about?”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“I dunno how much time we’ve got.” He rubs the back of his neck, unsure. “They’re ‘bout to air the evaluation scores. I was supposed t’ come get’cha.”

“I’ll be quick.” She promises.

And then she tells him about the evaluation. How she shot an arrow right at the Gamemakers, successfully shattering the lightbulb. Joel looks absolutely appalled, so she hurries to continue speaking before he has the chance. She explains her relationship with Marlene—how she’d raised her, but isn’t technically her mother—and asks him if he thinks the Capitol will punish her for what Ellie did today. 

Once she’s finished, Joel just stares at her for a few seconds. “God, kiddo, you sure know how t’ get into an assload o’ trouble.”

“Answer the question.” She says. “Will they do anything to her?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, plunging his hands in the front pockets of his worn out jeans. “They ain’t gonna kill your ma. They won’t do anythin’ to her unless ya win. If you die in the Games, there’s no point in hurtin’ her. All it’ll do is cost ‘em money. If ya win, though, they can punish her. But I doubt they will. ‘Specially if they end up likin’ you.”

“Well.” Ellie frowns. “I doubt I’ll be winning this year.”

“‘N’ why’s that?”

“There’s no hope for anyone who’s put into an arena with a L/n.” She says. “You know that.”

He shrugs. “Well, I’ve got some good news for ya then.” She raises a brow. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard from a few o’ the other mentors that Y/n did absolutely terrible on her evaluation.” He tells her, voice lowered, like they’re sharing a secret. It reminds her of Dahlia. That girl is always saying things she shouldn't. “They say that she walked in, stood there for a sec’, then walked right on out.”

“Hm.” Ellie thinks on this for a moment.

She knows you went in for less than a minute because she heard how fast they called for the next tribute. But she didn’t wonder if you’d somehow fucked up, she just always assumed that everything you did was genius and intentional.

“C’mon, kiddo.” Joel says, patting her shoulder. “Tilly ‘n’ Riley are dyin’ to see the scores.”

She nods, following him down the hall to the sitting room. Surely enough, they’re both already on the couch waiting for Joel to have fetched Ellie. Riley is in an armchair talking to Tilly, who is sitting on the long couch. Joel takes the other armchair, forcing Ellie to sit beside Tilly.

On the screen, a news reporter is talking about the tributes, working up the audience’s excitement levels. His hair is bright green, just like all the other Capitol people she’s seen thus far. Such an odd fashion trend, vibrancy.

“—And, without further ado, here are the scores.”

The screen travels in order, scrolling down to show each tribute. It has a picture of their face on the right, their name and score placed on the left. Thalia earns an eight, Anthea earns a four. Lev and Yara both get the same score, a nine. Sam receives a six, Henry a seven. Then there’s you. 

“What!?” Tilly blurts out as she sees your score, her upside down eyes blown wide in shock. Even Riley looks taken aback by the number. Joel just chuckles, leaning back with a small grin.

A one. You earned a one. 

The lowest score anyone could possibly obtain and you, a L/n, has managed to get it. The commentator even sounds unsure on what to say, happy to continue scrolling through the tributes. He moves down a bit quicker, trying to get your appalling number off the screen. Remy earned a five, which the news reporter is more than glad to offer comments on. 

Joel must’ve been right. You walked in there and did nothing. Ellie would usually be amused by this, impressed even. But instead, she’s just irritated. You seriously thought you could just waltz in there and get an astonishingly high number. Fucking ego.

Ariadne got a nine, Selene got an eight. Archie earned a five and Roland earned a six. 

And then there’s Riley. She got an eight. Tilly compliments her, grinning widely at the high score. Joel says something kind as well, though he gives Ellie a strange look. Perhaps he’s recalling what she did, knowing her score is next. It’s a bit comforting to know she won’t get lower than you. That’d be impossible. At least she did something.

Her picture comes on the screen alongside her name. Then her number.

An Eleven!

[post] notes!! Okokok idk if I explained any of that well. At all. 😣 Their emotions are so hard to write because THEY don't even know wtf is going on. If u already get the gist of their inner monologue u can skip this, if not I'm gonna give a brief rundown to try & explain a bit better without their mental bias:: Yn is easier to explain so I'll be doing hers first. She thinks that Ellie is an absolute saint - which we all know is #FALSE, but since she's been thru so much as a kid and was so blatantly neglected of attention & love, she instinctively clings to whoever provides her with that (hence her attachment to Ruben and her unknowingly forming attachment to Ellie). Since she and Ellie spent so much time together (it was literally 2 days & a total of like 3 hrs MAX), and she grew to trust her enough to confide in her, she now deems her to be, as I said, a SAINT. Which is why, in her POV, we see her brushing off Ellie's staring & everything bc she's under the impression that Ellie will understand her if she explains. Ellie, on the other hand, is far more complex than merely thinking "omg shes so awesome I trust her, she'll understand! woohoo!". No, Ellie is torn - which was hard to write bc she's unaware of her own division. She trusts and cares for Yn, as anyone in her position would. I mean, shit, we saw the way she literally SWOONED over everything that girl did. But, due to her instantaneous attraction to her, Ellie has now been let down even more harshly. Or, in relation to her Icarus metaphor, "the higher you fly, the farther you fall" and needless to say Ellie flew really high really fast. Which was 100% her fault, but she's under so much pressure that she takes out all the built up frustration induced by Riley, Marlene, the Games, the Evaluation, EVERYTHING, on Yn. Well,, mentally. She's yet to do anything outward. So yeah. Yn thinks Ellie is a perfect angel & Ellie thinks Yn is the devil who's to fault for all things bad. But neither of them know what the other is thinking. YAY! So excited to see how they (healthily) handle this!! ☺️

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[ni-idea-07]

A Little Princess

TW: mild yandere, manipulation, brainwashing, neglect by your real parents. Mentions of blood, mutilation, cannibalism, and murder. English is not my first language.

After escaping to Norway. A beautiful, semi-rural place, where Will could enjoy fishing and Hannibal…let’s just say he enjoyed hunting -human hunting, that is-.

Hannibal introduced himself as a surgeon named Adam Bakersfield and Will introduced himself as Ryan Bakersfield, a college professor who specialized in psychology. That’s what they said when there were curious people asking.

You were first met when your grandparents had called Hannibal to help you -he was the only doctor in town-. You had a huge pain in your side, which Hannibal easily diagnosed as appendicitis and quickly operated on you. Your body seemed to be healthy and once you’re a little older you could be an exquisite dish once you grow up since he doesn’t eat children.

Still, they hardly appeared in public and many had rumors about them. The house they got was quite far from the town, it was a house where they could do what they wanted without anyone bothering them.

But still one of them went out to do the weekly shopping. Hannibal had seen the way Will’s eyes sparkled when he talked about you and how you had helped him carry the bags to his car.

Okay, they see you as the perfect addition to the family, but they’re not crazy enough to kidnap you out of nowhere. No.

They invited you to have a snack at their house every afternoon and would plant ideas in your head little by little, telling you that your parents used you to make you work in small part-time jobs. Otherwise, why could you never buy yourself the nail polish you wanted so much? You also started to doubt if for your parents you were just the free babysitter they used to take care of your 2 younger brothers when they went on trips -something they did regularly to revive their relationship-.

They brainwashed you, they used your insecurities against you.

Did you never spend much time with your father since he preferred to spend quality time with his sons? Well, you won’t have a father figure, you’ll have two. Will will take you fishing and teach you all his tricks, Hannibal would teach you to play the piano or some other instrument you prefer.

Did they never let you have a pet? Well, you’ll be able to spend a lot of time with the dogs that Will recently adopted.

Did they never prepare something you choose? Problem solved! Hannibal will prepare your favorite meals every time you go to his house. -And I hope you like it, people died so he could cook. Literally-

With them you had everything, love, attention…

The people of the town didn’t know why you weren’t going around and helping everyone like always. They assumed that maybe you had a boyfriend or that simply taking care of your brothers kept you very busy.

Whatever.

You weren’t of age yet and that was a disadvantage for them since you couldn’t disappear without the whole town looking for you, but at the same time it was an advantage, you were young, a young person who could be easily manipulated.

But you weren’t stupid, they inspired you and that’s why you wanted to move forward, to be able to go to a nice university far from that small town.

One night you were doing some research, you were using Will’s computer while they were preparing dinner -or whatever they do-.

You knew they were a couple and you didn’t want to bother them, that’s why you tried to look up by yourself the things you wanted to present in an essay you had to hand in. You chose the passage of time and how AI developed.

You finished earlier than expected so you decided to have a little moment of leisure, you don’t know why or how, but you watched a documentary about the most terrifying murders in the world.

That was unusual for you since that kind of videos gave you anxiety since most of them still had the killers on the loose.

But still, what you saw in the top 4 left you disturbed. They were the photos of your friendly friends with other names: Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham.

Let me clarify that they introduced themselves under another name with you, they were Adam and Ryan Bakersfield.

You couldn’t believe it, at first you took it as a mistake but then you started to investigate even more.

Murder, mutilation and cannibalism was what you found.

You were very scared and nauseous.

You closed all the pages and sighed trying to keep everything in your stomach.

The door opened.

-“Honey, dinner is ready. Prepare the garlic bread you like so much”- Hannibal came in.

You nodded awkwardly and went to wash your hands, you were very scared but you wouldn’t say what you discovered, you would just act like you didn’t know anything and then you would go home to never return.

Once at the table Will noticed quickly, you were easy to read and even more so after Hannibal told him what he saw in the computer’s search history.

This You were so nervous, so scared that it was really hard to stay calm, at dinner, you could barely pick up the food with your fork.

Well. This can lead to three possible alternative endings depending on what you choose.

The first. If they see that you are too nervous, they will look at each other before smiling, they clearly know that the situation was too much for you.

-“Honey, is there something you want to say?”- Hannibal asked.

You dropped the fork on the plate and then stared at it in silence, like a deer looking into the headlights of a vehicle. You were scared and that would be easily seen just by looking at you.

In this scenario the situation got the better of you and you told them what you saw.

-“Oh, well…we wanted to tell you before, but we knew that would scare you.”- Hannibal began.

-“We will explain everything, finish your dinner first, okay? It’s not what it seems”- Will continued after stroking your head.

They explained to you that each of their crimes was justified. That they were doing good or at least trying to, but the FBI misunderstood them and considered them a danger to society. They had no choice but to flee.

And you believed them.

You believed absolutely everything they said and you were at a point where you no longer wanted to return to the town with your real parents. They manipulated you so much that you no longer wanted to be away from them. The brainwashing was so successful that you ended up being the daughter they both always wanted.

But you still had a sensitive stomach. Which still didn’t allow you to participate in their crimes, and they also kept you away from the kitchen when Hannibal dismembered the bodies.

Still, the three of you were happy together as a family. It’s a shame that the whole town is looking for you after you “disappeared.” But they don’t know that you are happier than ever with your new parents.

The second possibility is that you didn’t empathize with them or their murders, you felt disgust for having eaten their food

-“Honey, come. Let’s talk”- said Hannibal while he searched for you in the small forest behind his house. But you knew it wouldn’t be just like that, not while he had that knife in his hand.

-“We’ll just talk a little, then we’ll eat ice cream and we can watch a movie you like”- added Will while he had a flashlight in one hand and his phone in the other, calling you to make your phone ring.

Your phone rang inside, you were so absent-minded that you forgot it there. That gave you the opportunity to flee to the road and run to your house.

You had been able to escape, but when you got home, your parents were having dinner, they hadn’t even waited for you or saved a portion for you.

-“Oh, Y/N, we thought you would have already eaten at the Bakersfield house. You should have been here and helped me prepare dinner, if you wanted to eat you had to help”- your mother spoke when she saw you out of the corner of her eye, she didn’t even look at you, otherwise she would know how scared you were.

You ignored what she said and went straight to your room.

But your body stopped thinking and your mind stopped being on alert.

Even though they were murderers, they were much better than your parents. They loved you –in a twisted way But they still did it–.

Or maybe it was Stockholm syndrome talking for you.

You went out the window and went back to their house.

You were like a lamb going straight to the slaughter. Adorable.

But they believed in second chances, you were their perfect and beloved daughter, everyone makes mistakes sometimes, right? You were still too young.

And the third possibility… It’s the worst of all.

You don’t confront them directly. Rather, they already know.

You try to run But Will grabs you and immobilizes you while Hannibal prepared something in a glass and squeezes your cheeks until you open your mouth and drink what he prepared.

Maybe it took you 4 or 5 minutes to pass out in Will’s arms.

But it wouldn’t be the same for you anymore. You would be in that house away from everything whether you wanted to or not.

One or six months passed, you didn’t know it, But you were no longer the bright young woman, the one who smiled at everything and liked to help, they knew it just by looking at you.

That’s why they decided to free you. But not in the way you would have liked.

One afternoon when you were curled up next to your bed in the room they gave you. Will came in and crouched down next to you.

–“Hi honey, you know you’re a good girl, right?”– he asked as he caressed your cheek, which was now thinner than he would have liked.

You nodded in silence. Hannibal appeared at the door.

–“Wash your hands, darling, it’s time for a snack.”

You did and then went downstairs. Both of you looked at each other when you sat down at the tea table on the patio.

The place, the tablecloth, the snack, everything was similar to the same thing you had the first time you arrived, when Will wanted to thank you for helping him carry the groceries…

–“Darling, you know how special you are to us, right?”– Hannibal began as Will stood up –“You were the best daughter we ever had. We love you and we want you to stop suffering.”

When Will stood behind you, you instinctively stood up but Hannibal grabbed your wrists.

–“we’re sorry baby, but this will be the best for you”– Will said after putting his hands on your thin neck.–“we love you baby”

“We love you” was the last thing you heard before losing consciousness. Will was suffocating you with his hands.

You had been so special to them and they hated to see you suffer, that’s why they had freed you.

But hey! You can choose one of the three endings. It all depends on you and the choices you made.

THE END

A little too long, sorry I really like Hannigram as a platonic yandere.

By the way, there are still requests open. Please leave your request and I’ll be happy to fulfill it.

Thanks for reading and greetings.🫠

[baldurs-gape]

Best. Day. Ever.

Who knew that vampiric elves could get appendicitis? Not Gale, that's for sure. He had kissed Astarion goodbye in the car before getting a train to a conference. The plan had been to be away for three days. Alas, on the second day he got a call from Karlach of all people to say she was in hospital with Astarion, he was being wheeled off to the operating theatre with a suspected ruptured appendix. Never before had Gale cursed public transport more, rushing to his room to shove everything into a suitcase and running for a bus to take him to the train station.

"How is he?" He asked Karlach from the taxi that would finally get him to the hospital.

"Just waking up, they've let me sit with him."

"Thank you. I'll be there in ten minutes." Holding the phone away from his mouth, Gale leaned forward to talk to the driver. "I will pay you double your rate if you get me there in five minutes."

Still on the phone, he blindly handed over notes and waved off any change. "Right, through the main entrance, first set of stairs on the right, up a flight, out the corridor and?"

"Turn right, past the corridor to the theatres and it's the next corridor with double doors on the left. It's signposted." Karlach laughed softly. "You're going to love this, he's adorable."

Adorable was not a word Gale would have usually applied to Astarion and his brows rose. Almost tripping up the stairs, he tried not to sprint the last little bit. Slipping through the double doors, the nurses' station was manned by a couple of people, one of whom pointed him to a curtained off rail. Tugging his shirt straight, Gale walked over and took a moment to listen to Karlach's voice, soft and gentle.

"-and then we had to phone Dammon to help us untangle our horns. Can you believe Wyll almost broke my other one? He didn't dare kiss me for days afterward!"

Along with her warm cadence was the steady beep of a machine, no doubt monitoring all sorts of vitals. At least it was all steady and nobody was coming running. Gale stepped in.

The beeping of the machine stopped for a moment, missing one of the regular beats before picking up at a faster pace.

"Wow." Astarion was staring at him with wide eyes, mouth a little open. "You're beautiful."

Usually Gale would have laughed it off, it was something Astarion liked to tell him to fluster him. However, none of the usual teasing was there, just honest awe.

"I could say the same about you," he replied and stepped closer, taking one of Astarion's hands in his. "How are you feeling?"

To his chagrin, the hand was pulled from his with a soft "oh no, no thank you" and Astarion stared up at him, heart still beating fast. Next to the bed, Karlach looked like she was about to lose her battle against laughter.

"You're kind but I'm married," Astarion continued staring at Gale, unblinking.

"I know." Holding up his hand, Gale showed his ring. "I'm married to you."

"Really?" The joy on Astarion's face was unguarded and pure. "You really chose to marry me?"

Reaching out again, Gale's hand was grabbed this time and the ring was inspected as Astarion pulled himself up to get a better look.

"I put that on you. With your permission!" As quickly as Gale's hand was grabbed, it was released as Astarion flopped back and grinned up at the ceiling, a huff of a laugh escaped him before he turned to look at Karlach. "Did you know I was allowed to marry him?"

"I was there, Fangs, as your best man."

If it was possible, Astarion's eyes went wider and he smiled like he'd won the lottery, eyes closed.

"I have friends. Who came to my wedding. To my husband." The words became a mumble but as Karlach and Gale's eyes met, they heard one more sleepy murmur. "Best. Day. Ever."

[blackynsupremacy]

COOPER HELPING YOU RECOVER FROM SURGERY

pairing: cooper koch x black!fem!reader

summary: no matter what operation you get, the aftermath is the hardest part. fortunately, you have cooper by your side to make things easier.

contains: based off this request, fluff, perceived as either platonic or romantic it’s up to the reader, mention of pain, illness, broken bones, needles, drawing blood, vomiting, anesthesia, cooper being a green flag always, hurt/comfort.

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa @miguelspvssy

• there always comes a time in your health when greater measures have to be taken.

• you guessed it: surgery.

• there’s many ways you could end up in this situation.

• your wisdom teeth, tonsils, or appendix had to removed.

• maybe you’ve broken a bone so bad that not just a cast would do.

• if you’re not scared of hospitals, needles, and the like, you’re set, sis!

• if so, don’t worry! you’ve got cooper koch being the rock you need in a time like this.

• if it’s an emergency surgery like appendicitis or a broken bone, you know he’s going to be in that waiting room.

• he will keep your family updated with everything they need to know.

• he’s a bit anxious because appendicitis and broken bones may be common, but they’re nothing to play with.

• he believes that the doctors are doing the best they can.

• cooper might go to take a bathroom or coffee break, but he’s not leaving the hospital until you’re safely put in a room.

• if you’re having a minor, scheduled surgery like tonsil or wisdom teeth removal, he’s going to make sure you took all of the precautions that the doctor gave you prior to surgery.

• “y/n, did you remember to use that mouthwash?”

• “remember, you can’t eat for at least eight hours before tomorrow—i know it sucks, babes, but this is for your health.”

• he’s obviously driving you and gives you a pep talk on the way there.

• “don’t think about it too much, okay? it’ll be over before you know it.”

• to lighten the mood, you beg cooper to record you if you’re lit off the anesthesia.

• he already had that in mind, but it was refreshing to hear that you were on board with it.

• while you’re under the knife, you know he’s sticking around no matter how long it takes.

• looks at you with sympathy when you’re being wheeled out from the o.r.

• it was all over and you pulled through—you’re cooper’s trooper.

• you’re loopy and lit right now, so he takes the opportunity to film you.

• you’re a whole trip.

• “cooper, you the best white boy on my rosterrrrrr!” you slur, doing a little dance. lord, he is dying!

• “cooper, cooper gimme a hugggg! pleaseeee?” as much as he wanted to, the doctor was literally doing an examination on you.

• you even catch an attitude with the doctor while under the influence, “man, get off meee! i want cooper!”

• you try to reach your arms out, but that iv in your arm caused you to hiss in pain.

• “it’s okay, sweetheart, i’ll give you a hug later when you get some rest.” he reassured, trying to contain his laughter.

• “you did so well, honey.” he’d softly cheer, planting a kiss to your hand, forehead, and cheek.

• “i’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

• if you’re feeling nauseous from that anesthesia, he’s got a bag right in front of your face for you.

• if you do, he rubs your back in comfort.

• “let it out, babe. it’s okay.”

• if you have to stay in the hospital for a few days—girl, cooper is gonna come in clutch.

• while you’re asleep, he will get you a bag packed with all of the essentials you need like your toothbrush, fresh undies, deodorant, skin care, and your electronics just in case.

• he definitely brings your bonnet and edge scarf because you’re gonna be on bed rest! it doesn’t matter what style your hair is in, he knows that being with you long enough he finally understands your hair care routine.

• he spoils you, he might get you a new one and some non-slip socks in your favorite color.

• you absolutely loathe the hospital food.

• cooper buys or cooks for you the food that is appropriate for your condition.

• you cutely ask if he can feed you because you’re still a bit loopy and in pain.

• cooper melts and he accepts. you don’t even have to ask. he gently feeds you and praises you when you get your fill.

• if you hate needles, he holds your hand if the doctor has to put in another to draw blood for testing.

• when it’s time to go home, cooper attentively takes notes of all the post op care for you. prescriptions, home remedies, bandage/gauze changes, all of that fun stuff.

• cooper is so amazing at nursing you back to health.

• he makes sure you take your medicine.

• he continues to feed you the foods you need, but your favorite is the ice cream.

• he makes you sundaes!

• don’t skip on that water in his presence.

• if it’s too painful for you to walk, he is gonna carry you.

• he’s got you so spoiled!

• massages, binge watching, and helping with your hair is all part of the package.

• laughter is the best medicine and cooper proves that by showing you the video of when you were lit after the procedure.

• “man, what i was doing!?” you held yourself trying not to overdo it in laughter. it was like watching this whole other side of you.

• “but you still looked cute though!” cooper defended, joining in your laughter.

• when he hears the melodious sound of your laughter and the brightness of your smile, he knows in his heart that you’re getting better day by day.

[florencesf1blog]

hii I hope you’re doing well I’ve been loving your writing recently!! I wanted to request Carlos x fem reader that’s based at home, v fluffy a bit angsty about him overthinking his future and getting a bit emotional from the stress and pressure comforting him with long hugs a cozy nap after cuddles and finishing off with “I don’t know what I’d do without you”🥰

Thanks in advsnceee💕

nothing without you.

Carlos Sainz x Reader

In which your boyfriend is helpless without you.

Words: 645 Warnings: none

Things had been tense around your boyfriend lately. Ever since it was announced that Lewis Hamilton would be joining Ferarri in 2025, things felt off.

It started out fine, the first race ending in a podium place. The appendicitis seemed like a major set back, until he managed to win the race in Australia. It wasn't until his home ace that he realized the seriousness of his situation.

The amount of talk, the rumors that had been spreading about his future seemed to put a lot of pressure on him. Although it came across as if everything had been thought out, he was not half as calm and collective as he pretended to be.

You glance over at the nervous man next to you, his index finger repeatedly tapping the side of his phone. trying to ignore it, you go back to focus on your own thing. But the constant movement in the corner of your eye made it so you couldn't concentrate.

Once again, you turn your head in his direction. "What is it?" you ask him, eyebrow slightly raised. In that moment, it's like he snaps out of a trance. He quickly turns his head to look at you, looking at you like he forgot you were there. "Qué?" (what?) he asks, staring at you with those wide eyes.

The stressed look on his face doesn't go unnoticed, and you bring up a hand to hold is chin. Almost instinctively, he leans into your touch and your thumb rubs over his stubble. "You need to take your mind off of things. You'll worry yourself to death" you tell him calmly.

"It doesn't work like that. I don't have a lot of time left, i need to do this now" he sighs, turning his head away from you and your grasp. his attention turns back to his phone, the tenseness returning in his shoulders.

"Carlos." you say in a somewhat stern tone. But his attention stays on his phone, ignoring you while he tries to focus. "Caaarloooos..." you call out, stretching the syllables. You prop yourself up on your elbow as you roll over to face him, starting to get annoyed. "Carlos put th-"

"Por favor, do you mind?!" (please) he abruptly snaps at you, the overwhelming tension getting the best of him. He notices the way your face falters and your shoulders slump, and he's immediately met with a pang of guilt.

"Espera lo siento cariño..." (wait im sorry honey) he mutters, clearly regretting his words as his big eyes seemed to turn glassy. He was afraid of how you'd respond to his little outburst, knowing you were the one person he needed through all of this.

"Carlos just put the phone down" you tell him, a sympathetic look on your face. Little did he know you knew him far too well to be scared away by some tiny outburst.

He lowers his phone, slowly turning it off. "I didn't-" he starts, but you cut him off instantly. "I know. But you need to listen to me and take a break. Even if it's just tonight."

A small sigh escapes him, a tiny nod of his head going along. He shifts, moving further down under the covers and placing his head on your chest. Usually, it'd be you receiving the comfort from him. But he needed this, and you knew it too.

You almost want to mock him with the way he rests on you, a small pout on his lips. But you refrain from doing so, deciding to save the mockery for another time. His arms go around your waist as he nestles his face in your chest.

Your hand goes up to play with his hair as the other settles on rubbing his back. "I don't know what i'd do without you" he mumbles before slowly falling into a deep slumber.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: thankyoouu anon, you are too sweet. i hope youll enjoy this work like my others! :) i wanted to finish this earlier but got lazy tbh so here it is. also ignore any typos i checked but i tend to overlook.

[chilisworld55]

Talk to me | Carlos Sainz c55

🌶️ warnings: none, just fluff and comfort

a/n: hi! i hope you like this and im so sorry for any mistakes, ill try to improve! feel free to leave requests, feedbacks or anything your want to 🫶🏻

Since the news of Hamilton replacing Carlos in ferrari went out, he’s been trying not to be so affected about it but it seems to be impossible.

The Spaniard has been doing great this season, podiums in almost all races, except from the one in which he couldn’t race thanks to his appendicitis, but he got in first place on the next race. Latest race was awful for the tifosi though, both ferraris DNF.

Carlos’ been loaded with a bunch of questions whether it was in interviews or simply social media

“have you signed with another team?”,

“where are you going for next season?”,

“do you think you will have a seat in 2025?”

and many more of this kind…

“Amor…” you called him but his gaze just seems lost in his thoughts.

“Amor, are you okay?” you called him again, walking closer to him. He was sitting at the couch so you got in front of him, your hand caressing his cheek trying to find his gaze.

Once you did, he gave you a little smile but he looked sad. “Perdóname cariño ¿qué pasa?” im sorry, love. what’s wrong? he asks, placing his hand over yours, bringing it closer to his mouth and place a kiss on the back of it.

“what do you mean whats wrong? that’s what I am asking you. you seem off lately, everything is okay? did something happen?” your thumb caressed his cheek, sitting on the little table in front of the sofa.

“no… i mean, yes. everything’s fine, don’t worry” he gave you that little sad smile again and you know him well, he does that every time something’s wrong.

“hey, Carlos please, talk to me. i don’t like seeing you like this” you pout and lean in to leave a little peck on his puffy lips.

“can we cuddle?” he asks with a little voice and you heart melted. you love how his love language is mostly physical touch but when he asks for it? he’s just too cute.

“sure, love… wanna go to out bed or-“ he didn’t even let you finish your sentence before he grabbed you and pulled you on his lap, your legs on each side. His strong arms wrapped around your waist and his face buried on your neck.

He just stayed there in absolute silence, breathing slowly and having his eyes closed tight. He just wanted to have you close to him, needing this for a moment.

“im just worried about my career and everything else related to that…” he whispered, finally speaking up after about 10 minutes of silence, burying his face further into you neck if it’s possible.

“is this about your seat for next season?” you ask, hands going up and gently start caressing his hair, your fingers combing it back.

“which i do not have yet… but yes.” he mumbled, fingers playing with one of the stands of your hair and you were about to say something but he interrupted-

“what if i don’t have a seat for next season? what if they find someone million times better and i don’t get to have a seat? what if my career as a f1 driver ends this year? In every interview or every fan that asks me what’s going to happen with me for next season… i don’t know what else to answer”

he’s been overthinking about this so much and you know it, so you are always trying your best in listening to all his concerns and being supportive, always being there for him no matter what.

“Carlos, mi amor, it’s okay to be worried but i don’t really think that your career is going to end this year or any time soon” you whisper, you fingers pulling his chin up just wanting him to look into your eyes. “you are such a great driver, i need you to know that”

“but… i had to retire in the last race… cometí un estúpido error” i made an stupid mistake he looked into your lips, not standing to look into your eyes, feeling so vulnerable as he rarely shows this side of him. “what if the results of the last race affected my opportunities-“

“Carlos don’t do this to yourself” you interrupted him this time. ���You are a human being, you make mistakes, I make mistakes, everyone makes mistakes. Even the best F1 driver of all history makes mistakes!” you ran your fingers over his soft hair once again.

“you’re one of the very few drivers who had won and been in podium at most races during this season. You just had a bad weekend like every other driver. And you know what? next week it’s your home race. And you’re going to be back on podium, okay?” you cupped his cheeks and he finally looked into your eyes with a lovely stare, full of love and admiration for you.

“te amo. te amo muchísimo. lo sabes, verdad?” i love you. i love you so much. you know that. right? He placed his forehead against yours, both of your lips brushing together as you smile widely at his words.

“si, lo sé, yo también te amo mucho” yes, i know, i love you so much as well You kiss him passionately for a couple of seconds, his arms hugging your figure and caressing your sides.

“And for next season and for the rest of this one, you will do so good that ferrari and any other team is going to regret not having you”

“Que afortunado que soy, que he hecho para merecerte, cariño” how lucky i am, what have i done to deserve you, love

[halsteadlover]

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Connor Rhodes x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: yes by anon.

• Summary: Connor shows his possessive and jealous side and you love every bit of it.

• Warnings: jealousy, few curse words and I don’t know what else, please let me know if I missed any lol.

• Word count: 1930.

• A/N: I’m not sure about this one but here it is anyway since I was too lazy to write it all over again 😭 I hope you’ll like it, looking forward for your opinion. Comment, like and reblog, it’d would mean the world 💕 I love you all xx

Connor's first case since coming back to Med’s was fairly simple.

He thought that day would go uneventful. He thought.

An elementary school girl was taken to the ER after her teacher called 911 because of an intense abdominal pain and after an ultrasound it turned out to be a case of acute appendicitis.

“She’ll need surgery, where are the parents? We need their consent,” Connor had asked Natalie while they examined the little patient who was still writhing in pain. She was given a small dose of morphine to calm some of her excruciating pain.

At that same moment Maggie entered the room and Connor glanced at her as he tried to calm the little girl, whose name turned out to be Daisy. “Her teacher is here and asked about a doctor.”

“I'll talk to her,” Connor said and Natalie nodded.

Connor and Maggie exited the patient's room and his gaze fell on a figure near the nurses' station who was filling out some forms.

He tried to keep an expression as serious and impassive as possible even though internally a flock of butterflies had just exploded in his stomach.

There was no need to even take a double take, he would’ve recognized that figure even in a crowd of thousands of people. After all, how could he not recognize his own girlfriend?

You were a teacher and taught science in an elementary school but what were the chances that you would’ve been the little girl’s teacher?

You and Connor had been together for about few months them so none of his colleagues knew you existed yet. He had to act like he didn’t know you, like he didn’t want to breathtakingly kiss you right then and there.

He couldn't help but let his eyes wander over your body suppressing the innate desire to approach you and grab your ass like he always did.

He approached the nurses' station, hands shoved in his uniform pocket. “Ma’am.”

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard not a voice but his voice. You immediately tried to suppress the smile that threatened to appear on your face as well as the urge to giggle since he knew how much it annoyed you when he’d call you ‘ma’am’.

“It’s ‘miss’, actually.”

You said when you turned to him, pen still in your fingers as you gave him a polite smile and chuckling to yourself when you saw Connor press his lips together in an attempt not to burst out laughing.

“Nice to meet you miss, I’m doctor Rhodes. I’m treating Daisy.”

Your eyes quickly scanned his body, trying to maintain composure and not blush like a fourteen year old when thoughts about you and him in his bed that morning crept into your mind.

“How is she, doctor?” You asked, failing miserably at not giving him a little mischievou smile.

“Unfortunately I cannot discuss my patient's health status with people outside of her family. I wanted to ask you if you have by any chance notified her parents? We need to talk to them,” he replied in a professional tone although the way his eyes shone as they spoke to you and the way he couldn't help but check you out gave him away.

Maggie and April, who were there at the time and witnessing your conversation, couldn't help but exchange a knowing look.

They had both thought the exact same thing.

There was no way you and Connor didn't know each other.

It was so obvious and even funny how you both tried to maintain a professional and unemotional facade. But the way he looked at you, the way his eyes had never left yours, the way his body was totally turned towards you and in which he seemed to be imperceptibly drawn continuously towards yours had revealed there was no way in hell that he didn't know you.

But it was also how your head was tilted slightly as you spoke to him, how you kept touching your hair, how you batted your eyelashes and the shadow of a smile that never left your lips that had given definitive confirmation that you two knew each other very well.

And not talking about the fact you two were blatantly flirting.

“I came here in a hurry so I didn't have time to call them, but I'll do it right away,” you had said and Connor had nodded, trying to keep himself from following you with his eyes as you walked away to make the call but failing miserably.

“Connor oh my god! What was that?!” April screamed/whispered, approaching Connor with Maggie, a look of pure surprise and amazement on both their faces. “You know her?!”.

Connor shrugged nonchalantly. “N-no of course not.”

“Oh come on we saw the way you looked at each other, you clearly know her and there is definitely something going on!” Maggie retorted.

“She's just a good looking woman, that's all,” Connor remarked even if ‘good looking’ didn’t even come close to how gorgeous you were.

All his attention though had shifted from Maggie and April for a moment, his eyes falling on the two doctors that were talking as they looked through some patients' medical records.

He saw the direction of their gaze, hearing the comments about the object – or rather the person – that had attracted their attention.

“Man if she was a stripper I would’ve spent my whole salary on her, did you see that ass?”. One of them had confessed to one of them while he was pretending to fill out the medical records even though he was watching you like a hawk while you were talking on the phone.

“I would’ve never skipped a class if I had a teacher as hot as her,” the other continued laughing.

“You think she has someone?”.

“Oh I hope not, but if it is he is a damn lucky bastard.”

Connor clenched his hands into two fists, almost having a brain aneurysm.

A wave of jealousy washed over him, every cell of his body exploding with anger at hearing the words directed towards you who unawarely continued to talk on the phone.

His jaw clenched as he struggled to stay calm, but God how much he wanted to beat the shit out of those two sons of bitches. He hated the way they looked at you, the way they made those disgusting comments about your body.

He hated it so much because that was the way he looked at you.

He was the only one who could make those comments about you, the only one who could have those sinful thoughts about you, the only one who could touch and admire you.

Your ass, your legs, your smile, your laugh, that twinkle in your eyes when you looked at him, that body, all of this were his.

It was as if his mind had gone into blackout, as if all his reasoning, judgment and common sense had just flown away because now all he could do was imagine the bastards' heads banging against the wall over and over again.

Drastic? Perhaps. Excessive? Probably. But Connor didn't give a fuck.

And it was in fact at that precise moment that he did something he’d never have thought of doing for anyone.

“Daisy's parents are…-” you announced as you ended the call and walked back to the nurses' station but stopped on your tracks when Connor came towards you, and a confused expression appeared on your face.

Your eyes widened and you almost had a heart attack when he grabbed your face and crushed his lips on yours.

He didn't give a shit.

Neither that you both were keeping your relationship a secret anymore, nor that you were in the middle of the ER, nor that everyone at that moment had stopped to witness that scene.

He wasn’t thinking clearly and in that moment it was that part of him with which he had never come face to face before that controlled him, that primitive and caveman part he was hating so much.

Even though that gesture had taken you completely by surprise, your body reacted before your mind could even understand what was happening, so you kissed him back, feeling your breath stopping in your lungs. Your hands slid up his chest and fisted his uniform as he wrapped his arms around your hips, sliding his hands down to your ass.

He didn't care he’d receive an endless scolding for what he was doing, he didn't care about the voices that commented the scene, he didn't care that everyone saw his hands squeezing your ass.

He didn't care because he wanted them to see, he wanted everyone to know you belonged to him, that he was the only one who could kiss you, fuck you, squeeze that stripper ass, that loved you.

You broke away from the kiss before the situation could escalate, your heart pounding and your legs shaking like jelly. “Babe oh my god…-”.

“You’re mine, you know that right?” He whispered. “Only mine.” His hands moved up from your ass back to your face and his thumbs caressed your cheekbones before placing a small kiss on his lips. “And I love you.”

Woah hold on.

Did he fucking say ‘I love you’? In an ER?

Wait. Connor loves me?

You looked at him in shock but you didn't have time to process and figure out what the hell was going on because he grabbed your hand and led you back towards the nurses' station, where Maggie and April's jaws were now on the floor.

“Meet my girlfriend, Y/n,” he announced, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close as you were about to faint. Your heart was beating so fast you feared you’d need a defibrillator to revive you sooner or later.

You were so shocked you couldn’t elaborate a word, fuck you couldn’t even think about one.

Connor's eyes focused on the two doctors that had been talking about you until recently but who at that moment were looking around embarrassed.

“You wanted to know if she was taken? Yes, she is. I’m the lucky bastard who gets to have her and now let me hear one more thing about my girlfriend, I fucking dare you.”

You looked with confusion at your boyfriend, then at the doctors he was glaring at, and then back at him. You had no idea what he was talking about and you were so dazed and confused that your mind didn't know what to process first.

From the way Connor’s hand was gripping your hip, the way he held you so close to him, and the way he glared at the two doctors, you imagined it was somehow about you. And although the embarrassment of being the center of attention made you want to be swallowed by the floor, you couldn't help but feel… Flattered.

Was this the right word?

You didn’t know.

You couldn't even describe it, but that jealous, protective side of him lit a fire inside you that burned every single fucking cell of your body.

You knew Connor always had this protective instinct towards you but knowing he had ‘marked his territory’ so blatantly, just to stop whatever they were saying, made you giggle to yourself like a teenage girl.

It was so damn hot and sexy, more than you would’ve ever expected.

And instead of thinking about how out of place or inappropriate that gesture was, the only thing you could think about as you looked at Connor was how good he was going to get it that night.

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