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wonderlandwalker · 11 months ago

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Living Nightmares | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick wakes up to find you slipping away from him. As he tries to get help, he loses track of you, only to find you in the hands of the careers. The situation seems to get worse before he finally thinks he's at peace, but you're there to remind him to keep going.

Content Warnings/Tags: angst, a whole lot of it, fluff at the end though I'm not a monster, mentions of blood, hypothermia, violence

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I've been obsessing over our boy Finnick so here's a fic full of angst, because apparently that's the only thing my brain can think of. Dividers by @chilumitos

This wasn’t exactly where they had thought they’d be at the moment. It all started during the second day in the arena, they had the allies, they had the supplies, and they thought they had the advantage, but worry took over as they started losing sight of each other in a chase, and they tried to find the others, only to end up in a new part of the arena. It was dark, cold, and they had lost their supplies, and there was no food or water source nearby.

Neither of them was really to blame. It had been a long day, and the surroundings didn't inspire much hope. So, both of them had fallen asleep on some of the leaves that covered the ground. The cold air was still blowing around them.

But at least he wasn't alone, two sets of minds were better than one, at least he still had you.

The rising sun urged him to open his eyes, and he stretched out his arms, which had become stiff from the cold. It was only when he sat up and ran his hand through the hair that had fallen in your face that he noticed how cold you were. He quickly got up from behind you, pulling you into his lap, tilting your head up a little. Your skin was almost as white as snow, and your lips were starting to turn blue. The colour that once held so many fond memories of the ocean and the sky, now being replaced by fear and panic. He shook you lightly, trying to wake up as if you were just sleeping deeply. When you didn't react, he called out for you, his voice laced with concern.

“Y/n? Come on love, wake up.” But the only movement that came from you was your arm falling from where it was, the harsh thud to the ground reinforcing his fears.

“No, no come on. This isn't happening, wake up” Finnick had thought about this happening, how could he not when it was the basis for most of his nightmares? But he always woke up from those to find you resting in his arms, your soft breathing comforting him back to sleep. This time he didn't wake up, and he didn't hear your breathing to soothe him. He checked your pulse for a heartbeat, but all he could feel was his own heart racing in his chest. He looked around him as if there would be someone there to help, but you were alone.

He started CPR to try and quicken up your pulse, to get you to breathe again, and while he knew you probably couldn't hear him, he had to try.

“Do you remember when you came back from your first games, I really thought that had been the scariest moment of my life. When I survived my own, at least I knew you were alright at home. When you came back, I thought it was over, I wanted to see the positive side, but you seemed so weak, and having watched you, I knew how bad of a state you were in. It tore me apart to have to see it and not be able to do anything." His voice cracks a little, his head starting to swim with more thoughts.

"I won’t do this without you. You can't leave me now, not like this." He pushes a little harder on your chest while doing compression. He's sure if he does so anymore, he will crack one of your ribs.

"I imagined us getting married. I imagined proposing to you by the lake, that little spot you showed me, I know how happy you were in the middle of the field of dandelions. Every worry seemed to slip away from you, like a little hideaway from the horrors of the world. That's how you make me feel every time I'm with you. It's like there is no one in the whole world except us. And I know how cliche that sounds, I know you never liked cliches, but it's true, you are my world, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

Right as he was about to pour out more of his heart to you, he heard a noise coming from the distance. The steps were too heavy to be coming from a small animal, but his instincts also told him that whoever it was, they weren't there to help.

He knew he had two options. try and fight off whatever was coming while carrying the love of his life with him. Or keep you hidden, try and fight while distracting them away from you and coming back when the coast was clear. He tried his best to hide you underneath a blanket of leaves, making you disappear into the surroundings, he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, scared to get too close and feel how cold your skin still was. He heard the footsteps come closer.

“Just hold on a little longer darling, I’ll be back before you know it.”

And so he turned around, grabbing his trident a little harder than normal, and came face to face with one of the careers. Finnick's muscles were still sore from the night, but he was ready to run. He had to get away from here before the tribute started to wonder if he had been alone.

He ran towards a clearing, making the tribute follow behind him. He ran to a split in the path, which gave him two options, left or right. He heard rustling coming not far behind him, and his instincts told him to go right, so he did. He ran for a while until he reached a dead end, the line of trees becoming so dense he couldn't get through anymore. The tribute was still on his heels, and Finnick had to think fast again. He saw a body of water nearby and decided that diving in, despite the creatures that might be in it, and the chilling temperature it must be, would be better than certain death. He knew he would be able to outswim the career, it luckily being one of his strengths. He started to run towards it, and when he got to the edge, he jumped like his life depended on it, but it still wasn't his life he was worried about, it was yours.

Once he got to the other side of the water, he looked back, and the tribute was nowhere to be seen, probably having decided that the risk of the wild waters wasn't worth it. Finnick wasn't thinking about the relief of escape, all he was thinking about was how much time you had left.

It was by some sort of miracle he found Peeta, Johanna and the others on a small beach nearby, and he practically ran straight into them at full speed without even announcing himself. Once the others had realized it was Finnick, and he was not a danger to them, they calmed down, but the state of despair he was in did alarm them soon after

Peeta looked up at him, he was completely out of breath from how fast he had run.

“Sit down Finnick, try and catch your breath” He told him, while placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no time to sit down, I need to go back.” He spoke with such certainty it startled the others.

“Go back where?”

“ To the clearing, I don't know where it was, but I remember how to get there.”

“Why do you need to go back?” Johanna asked him, seeming confused.

“Because y/n is still there, and she doesn't have long”

The others didn't need to hear more, and started to pack up the things they had with them to follow him.

When they had made it back, Johanna was in front with Finnick, she wouldn't care to admit it out loud, but she was worried about you as well.

“Where?” She asked him

“Over by the cut-down stumps, next to the maple and the oak tree.” Finnick had memorized the entire area in order not to lose track of you, and with Johanna being from the lumber district, he knew this clue would be the most helpful to her.

“There’s no one here” she said, looking back at him frustrated.

“There has to be, she was right there when I left.”

“She might have been, but unless hypothermia comes with the power to turn invisible, she’s gone.”

“Well, she couldn't have left by herself” His mind was reeling with all the possibilities, each one more horrible than the last.

“Well then who took her, there are no drag marks, it wasn't any kind of mutt.”

“I don't know, maybe-” his eyes fell to the mud next to the fallen leaves, the ground here was in permafrost, it couldn't have come from here. When the tribute started chasing him he had already put distance between where you were and where he was going. They must have gone back after he went into the water to try and see if he had any supplies, and have found you. But your body wasn't here, that was a good thing, that means you must be alive, why else would they have taken you?

“They’re at the swamp”

“How are you so sure?”

“The career, he was alone when he chased me, he has to have set up camp somewhere with the others, it can't be far from here otherwise he wouldn't have carried her.”

“Alright, but we don't even know where that is, the swamp must be massive, they could be anywhere, we can’t just run in without a plan.” Johanna tried to reason, looking over to Finnick, only to realise he was no longer there.

“Where did he go?” Peeta asks her.

“Probably to the swamp, probably without a plan.” She sighed, she was annoyed, but couldn't say she was surprised, she knew he would do anything for you, including laying down his own life.

“How do we find him, we don't even know where the swamp is, y/n and Finnick were the only ones who crossed it.”

“You don't happen to have a map, do you?” Johanna asks, sarcasm heavy as usual.

While the others were trying to figure out where exactly Finnick had run off to, he himself ran into some trouble. He knew it was his fault for going in without a plan or any backup, but he had listened to his heart, not his head. His heart convinced him he had to find you, telling him that if he didn't find you and wake you up, he’d never be able to see your eyes looking back into his. His heart was telling him to go and save you, even though his head was telling him it was probably already too late anyway.

He wasn't paying close attention to his surroundings as he should have been, trying with all his might to find you. They had found him when he was distracted and from that moment on they kept trying to break him. He was tied with his back against a tree, most of his body covered in blood and a little dizzy from the loss of it.

“It’s very easy to figure out what makes you tick Odair” the district one tribute spoke to him. He couldn't see very far ahead of him, and he couldn't see you anywhere.

“What’s that supposed to mean” He was confused and angry. Confused about what they meant, why they hadn't killed him. Angry they kept him from finding you, from holding you.

“Don’t worry, you'll find out soon enough.”

And as if it was planned, right after the career had spoken, a loud, soul-cracking scream echoed around him. Finnick immediately recognized it, how could he ever forget? It couldn't be real, it had to be a trick, jabber-jays, something. But there wasn't a flock of birds around, and nothing would be able to replicate such a crushing sound. He tried closing his eyes, but when he did his imagination ran wild with images and scenarios, and it only made it worse. The only thing he could do to calm down was tell himself it wasn't real, even if he didn't believe it, repeating it like a mantra over and over.

“It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real.” It was nothing more than a whisper and most probably only a mumble of incoherent words.

“Oh but that's the best part Odair, it is real, and it's not gonna stop until you give us what we want. to know.”

“You’re lying” He spit out, barely able to say the next words without falling apart completely “I saw her die.” A single tear makes its way down his face as he tries to keep his composure, cracking now wouldn't do him or you any good.

“Are you willing to take that risk? She’s pretty feisty, I'll give you that, but if you don't crack soon and tell us where your friends are, she's not gonna make it.

He tried ignoring it, trying to listen to his head instead of his heart, but once again the attempt was futile. All he could hear was the screaming, even when he was sure it had actually stopped, the sound still lived in his head. It was hard to say which was worse, the deafening screams, or the silences in between.

He tried to think with his head, tried to think what you would say to him. It would probably be something along the lines of ‘don’t do anything stupid when I'm not there.’

It was far too late for that.

When the career returned, he had a smile on his face that seemed way too happy for the situation they were in.

“She’s strong, that girl of yours, that much is true. The question is for how much longer, everyone has a point of no return, and I have a feeling she’ll cross it soon, But you can make it stop, tell us where your friends are, and it’ll stop.” The tribute had bent down so he was face to face with him, and by the look in his eyes, he now knew for sure this wasn't a bluff.

Finnick didn't know where they were, they wouldn't have stayed at the beach where he found them or at the clearing where the two of you had slept for the night. And maybe it was for the best he didn't know, because right now if he was honest with himself, he would have told them anything he knew if they wanted it. He would do anything to get to hold you again, to feel the warmth of your body against his, to feel your lips pressed against his own. But the careers weren't stupid, he had no reason to believe they would actually let you go, and even if they did, he knew a part of you would never forgive him for what he would have done.

“This is a waste of time.” He screamed, silently hoping you were close enough and conscious enough to hear his voice, hoping it would be enough to tell you not to give up. He pulled at the ropes tying his hands together with all the strength he had left, knowing it would likely not achieve anything, but hoping for it nonetheless.

But it didn't make a difference, your screams didn't stop, and his heartache didn't stop. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, up until a point where Finnick couldn't tell how much time had passed. It was difficult to keep track of time when you kept blacking out, but it was peaceful in the most morbid way. He didn't sleep, he lost consciousness, so he didn't dream. When he blacked out he had a moment of peace, a moment where he didn't hear your screams echoing around in his head. But he would always wake up and have to face reality again.

He couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore, he couldn't hear his breathing or his thoughts, all he could hear was the screaming and the cries, even though he wasn't sure if they were there or if his mind kept playing tricks on him. He had always feared this, but he didn't think that his worst nightmares would actually come true.

He looked down and saw a puddle of his blood staining the ground and the leaves he was sitting on. The last thing he heard before he blacked out again was shouting coming from the distance.

When he wakes up he can't see much, his eyes heavy and his body tired. But he can feel his cheeks getting wet, it’s a heavy liquid and he guesses it's his blood until he opens his eyes far enough to see you kneeling in front of him, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift his face while you're silently crying, the tears creating a clear path down the grime on your face.

“y/n?” His voice barely reaches a whisper, but you look up into his eyes immediately.

“Finnick, oh god, please wake up we have to get out of here.” Your voice sounds strained, and Finnick isn't sure if it's because of all the screams that must have taken a toll on you, or if the sounds have damaged his ears, he hopes for your sake it's the latter.

“No we don’t” He says with a sense of peace that doesn't match up with the predicament you're in.

“What do you mean?” You ask him, while trying to remove some of the blood stains from his skin, but failing miserably.

“We’re in heaven, aren't we, that's why you're here, I was hoping I would see you.” A sob from your throat almost interrupts his whispering, and he looks up to you again.

“Why are you covered in so much blood” He reaches out to touch your face ever so gently, as if he's scared you're only a figment of his imagination, and you could disappear anytime.

“It’s nothing, I’m alright, I’m more worried about you, you look like you could open your very own blood bank with how much you’re losing.” Your voice is shaky, and it matches the tremble of your hands.

“No need to worry about that, You're here to bring me to heaven, we’ll be together again, it’ll all be perfect.”

“Finnick listen to me! I’m not here to take you to heaven, I’m real and I'm right here in front of you and I need you to stay awake!”

Only he’s not responding to you anymore, his eyes closed again.

“Goddamnit”

You tried to lift him off the ground, but almost fell over once you got him upright. You weren't in your strongest state, and Finnick not being in any conscious state wasn't helping, his whole body weight leaning on you. You put your arm around his shoulder and put the other around his middle, trying to keep him standing so you could move. But with your hands busy trying to keep Finnick upright, you had no way to defend yourself. All the commotion must have alerted other tributes, but you didn't know how many there were to begin with, or who even started the disturbance that allowed you to break free. You thanked whoever was listening that the two of you made it out of the swamp without running into further trouble, and entered an opening of trees that finally allowed bright sunlight to touch upon your skin. You can hear footsteps close by, and prepare for the worst.

“We need to get the two of you back to the others” A familiar voice enters your ears, and you didn't know you could ever be so grateful to find Beetee.

You make your way to a lake not far away. When you get there, you refuse to leave Finnick’s side when Beetee had insisted you needed tending to as well. It was like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of you was hurt, the other didn't leave their side until you were sure they were going to be okay. But you weren't sure, and you weren't leaving him. So you lay down next to him, and the others knew it was useless to try and separate you.

After some time had passed, Finnick started to softly grunt and woke you up with him. Your face contorted in a mix of anger and pain. You leapt up into his arms. It hurt him a little with how tight you were holding him, but he didn't dare let go. Still a little afraid it wasn't real. But he could feel your breathing against his neck, hear you crying in his ear, and hear your heart beating in your chest, in sync with his, you were here, and you were okay.

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starriegalaxy · 2 months ago

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Starrie's B'day Celebration Party!

Click this invite first pls so you can join the space! And this is to the main pinned (meet the artist) post for reference!

invitation link closed as it is a private magma server!

Here's the magma :

"You are formally invited to Starrie's B'day Party!"

"Please come and join 🥺"

Date : 27th Oct 2024

Theme : Starry Night 🌃✨☄️🪐🌌

Hellowwww everyone, with the seasons changing just like the leaves on the trees and a cold breeze is making itself known by winding through the streets, I'd like to invite y'all to draw on this board!!

You can draw anything so long as it's safe for work only - There's also room for your OCs, personas and of course, the daycare attendants! Whichever you prefer to represent you attending the virtual party. All is welcome and hurms, in terms of clothing, we could settle for a fancy glam / painting-esque inspired outfit one or you can stick to your outfit of choice or whatever you see fit in this board according to the theme - Feel free to contribute a background btw ^^

I don't think I'll be doodling in it as I'd like to rest my hands again 🥹 so it'll count as like a surprise gift of sorts for me ✨

P/S : For the writers, you're free to write a little drabble of fluff for me (the starsona with the new hairstyle) and the daycare attendants centred around the b'day theme ✨

Thanks so much in advance, everyone🥹💖✨💥🌌💕‼️

Important :

Remember to sign your tumblr username & make a lil box behind if needed so that it can be seen ^^

This is no pressure and all fun! You're free to do silly poses and whatnot - we'll make use of the 4 boards if needed so go ham and cheese and get the grind on that drawing inspiration! If ya need another board to make another sketch, feel free to use it 👀

Anyways, this magma will be open from 1st Oct - 26th Oct and then I'll post the finished results on 27th Oct! Plenty of time for y'all to cook up ideas and maybe do WIPs 🤣 I'll try my best not to peek until 27th (shaking with curiosity already). Emphasis on try.

Submissions of art gifts are also welcomed for my inbox / messages if ya feel a bit shy (though I'll probs only open my chats to all for like 2 weeks at best but we'll see). You may also just tag me in b'day art that you made and remember to tag accordingly with "Starrie's B'day Gift" 💥

Examples of gifts you can provide (with tags for reference!) :

starsona (#starsona)

fear factor au fanart (# fear factor au / #ffau / #ffau sun / #ffau moon / #ffau eclipse) I WOULD LOVE THIS SO MUCH PL E A SE PLSPLSPLSPLS - 😭😭😭

my OCs (#starrie's ocs) You can find my OCs here 🌠

anything as long as it's sfw and cute! Check FAQ if unsure.

That should be it. If there's any questions, feel free to ask thru my inbox or comment below and good luck 🫶🏻✨💞👻🍁‼️

Tagging the jesties & everyone who's free to join <33 :

@crabsnpersimmons @nighternex @simply-spade @belashadowcat @enduu115 @strawberrytamii @crystalmagpie447 @ghosteii @minxtheeenby @eggcromancer @overly-dramatic-artist @sun-e-chips @pineconecrows @amarynthian-chronicles @martinsorbit @yourfriendlydca @scribbyizhere @mainmoenmomentmaybe @chinchilla-clown @certified-handler @jerrsterrr @rambunctioustoons @way2gosuperrstarr @conspicuous-clown-car @spadillelicious @sleepycupcakesmiles @erarousfire @ryobitheaxololt @pizzabitez @mietziekatz @amberluvsbugs @alta1312 @morning-sweets @kaprisvn @hexcii @ping-ski @nebuladreamz @flowysgonemad @moriah-dooodles @wyervan @trenchcoat-full-of-snails @naiibun

And of course, you! 🫂✨

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zimt-deathnote · 3 months ago

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You asked for it, and here it is, Near scenario:

You mentioned a while ago that you imagined at some point Mello just lost it and injured Near seriously.

The fight is followed by a meltdown, a bad one like he hadn’t had in years. Near shuts himself in his room after receiving medical attention, his roommate his only contact with the outside.

He had gotten better at controlling his emotions and reactions since he got to Wammy’s, his self esteem had gotten slightly better since so many failures in public school. But losing it completely in front of all of his classmates, like some baby who can’t stand up for himself, is incredibly humiliating. He’s not angry at Mello. Not that he likes what happened, at all. Still, no matter how supportive his family is, how well Wammy’s taking care of him and helping him, he can’t help blaming himself every time he has an outburst.

Since the staff can’t manage to get him out, after two days they decide to call the family. He doesn’t want to speak to them. Not another failure, not after his parents had found some hope that he might manage on his own.

The day next, his sister comes. She comes into the room, Near’s roommate politely excuses himself.

Near’s in his corner/laboratory on the ground, keeping his hands and eyes busy by dismantling some toy robot. His face is all purple and bandaged.

After a while, his sister gets him to talk to her.

S (for sister, can’t remember her name): so, who do I have to kill? What happened?

N: Don’t be silly, if you want to commit a murder I should remind you that a school full of future detectives isn’t really the ideal place. Unless you want to become our new assignment of the week. You would make the children really happy though.

She asks if he wants to come back home, he refuses. It takes him a lot of effort to convince her that he was not being bullied, and that this was a very isolated accident. Yet, she insists on wanting to know what’s going on.

It’s afternoon, and yet the orange light does not come through the window in the isolated room that was picked just for his needs, sealing him away from his classmates.

Near shares his consternation at having been unable to read the situation before it escalated, and his shame for the meltdown in front of everyone. Of course he knows that it’s mostly Mello’s fault for beating him, but he also knows that if he wants to become a good detective he’ll have to know how to recognise a violent reaction when it’s arriving, or he’ll never be independent.

She smiles.

“Nate-“

“Don’t call me that, you can’t do it here.”

“Nate, when will you get it into that huge brain of yours that nobody ever is actually fully able to function on their own? All of us got blindspots, but not many are so aware of where they are, and not so many would be such sticklers in trying to make up for them. You are doing your best. That’s more than many people can say to do.”

N: “….I’ll admit I haven’t seen much improvement in Mello’s anger issues lately”

S: “haha definitely not, by the way where can I find him? Mom ordered me to-“

N: “whatever it is, please don’t.”

Near is not completely alone in his dark room for that evening.

That’s the gist of the scene. Hope it can be inspiring.

Thank you for reading ❤️❤️

I had this in my inbox for so long now cause I wanted to write that incident out better first but I couldn't get around to do it yet </3

But this here, this is the good shit ☝️ Thank you so so so much for this absolutely lovely scene, Anon ��

Sister's name is Alison btw!

----- My other socials Commission Info Let's drink some Ko-Fi! 🍵

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bunni-v1 · 1 year ago

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CONGRATS FOR THE 500 FOLLOWERS! 💫💫 can i request letters A, B, O, P, Q, S and Y of the sfw list for Malleus and Vil? But in a platonic way, as friendship, if you can<3

🍓I've had this one sitting in my inbox for a while because I've just not been in the mood to write for Malleus. He's a special flavor of autistic that I can only write when the inspiration strikes lol.

Malleus

A - Affection: Malleus is VERY affectionate! He's been loved on a lot by Lilia, so I wouldn't say he's touch-starved, but he does act like he is. He always wants to be holding you in some way, and if you are in his vicinity he will come and find you just to be near you. Always greets you with a hug and a kiss, regardless of who is around or where you're at. Worst of all, he gets pouty and throws a Malleus brand temper tantrum if you deny him any affection.

B - Best Friend: It's really weird to be best friends with Malleus. You sorta found him somewhere on accident, spoke with him, and gained yourself a dragon. You don't ever see him in any place that is conventional or normal, and you rarely actually "hang out" with him. When you do see him, though, he's prone to have these really deep interesting conversations with you and then disappear. Quite freaky.

O - Open: It doesn't occur to Malleus that, maybe, he doesn't need to tell you his whole life story at random times of the day. I mean, seriously, you guys will be doing something like study, and then he'll drop that fattest lore bomb known to man and leave you speechless.

P - Patience: Not very. In fact, most things that would piss other people off just tend to make him laugh. He's essentially a god amongst men with an ego to match, and that ego is anything BUT fragile. It's hard to make him mad. You can upset him and make him out, but anger is rare and SCARY.

Q - Quizzes: He's both really good and very bad. Malleus both has some much going on in his head and absolutely nothing. He remembers important dates, and all of your favorite things, but when it comes to like pulling through on important stuff? He sucks! He forgets! He feels so bad after too, like on his knees begging for forgiveness. Then, at the same time, he'll remember something really obscure that you mentioned in passing and it makes you wonder how the hell his mind works.

S - Security: Oh, Malleus is the MOST protective out of anyone in the twst cast. He's a dragon, after all, and they're mostly known for protecting things. You are his most prized and adored treasure, and he protects you as such. I'm talking like, he's always by your side, always watching you, always ready to jump at the chance to show you how amazing and powerful he is. Now, he never gets the chance because who in their right mind would ever upset THE Malleus Draconia, but he still keeps hoping.

Y - Yuck: He hates it when his title is held over his head. He wants friends and connections and love, but his crown gets in the way. If you ever try to use him for his power that would be an instant no from him, especially if he thought you loved him for more than just his position.

Vil

A - Affection: Vil is like... moderately affectionate. Now, he's not exactly the sweetest person. Vil is all about appearances, and hanging off in public doesn't exactly look good. In private, though? He's making up for the missed affection tenfold. Now he's not a huge cuddler, but he is a kisser. And kiss you he does, everywhere. He's so pleased with the bright red lipstick marks all over your face. On top of that, he pampers you like a princess. Massages, face masks, sweets and tea. Only the best for his darling.

B - Best Friend: Vil just decides that you're friends, and then you're stuck with him. It's really not bad though! He's quite a gossip, so you hear all the latest drama around the halls of NRC. You get free makeovers and get to relax around Pomefiore whenever you want. Most importantly, your social status rises to the top, because any friend of Vil's could be a friend worth having.

O - Open: Vil? Open? Please. He's got walls up greater than the wall of China. It takes him a lot of time to open up to you because all of those stupid emotions he's feeling make him so weak. Once you get the first bit of Vil lore, though, he's like a running faucet and just spills everything everywhere. It really makes you both grow so much closer though.

P - Patience: Eh. He's not awful, better than Riddle at least. Vil does have a temper though, and it's not as uncommon to see it as you may think. Now, he rarely ever gets mad at you unless you do something so stupid that he can't help it in his disbelief. Still, his anger is a sight to witness, and much worse when it's directed at you.

Q - Quizzes: Vil is very good at knowing everything there is to know about you. He writes it down, actually! In his notes app! He has a whole list that's just about you and your likes and dislikes and everything you tell him that he thinks is important. He makes sure to utilize it all the time, and it's really sweet how seen he makes you feel.

S - Security: Vil is moderately protective of you. He doesn't really worry about anyone in your classes, it's rare to find someone actually willing to mess with him. What he is worried about is the media. If they got ahold of you, his more intense fans might try to rip you apart. So, he shields you from that as best as he can, because he doesn't want to see you hurt.

Y - Yuck: If you only want him for his beauty. He is pretty, he knows that, and he understands that it's likely a part of why you love him. However, if you only seem to care about how pretty he is or only compliment his looks, he hates it. There is more to him, why can't you see that?

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #bunni's treats 🧁#malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit

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beyondthesefourwalls · 2 years ago

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Remember You Even When I Don't (8)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.5K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: Please note the updated warnings. These next few chapters are a new stage of Bradley and Pumpkin growing back together, and while I'm very excited about it, I know it may not be for everyone. For everyone who sticks around, please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

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You’re working today. You hadn’t wanted to, but a local congresswoman you had requested an interview with months ago finally agreed to a conversation in her office, and Bradley wouldn’t let you pass it up. It was only for a few hours, but he finds himself missing you while you’re gone.

This is the first time he had really been alone in the house for a long period of time since he got back from the hospital a month ago, and he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He had tried to read a book, or get lost in a movie, but nothing had really kept his attention. He was laying on the couch, the news on the tv in the background, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. He hadn’t fully dove into all that it contained, and he figured now was the time to do it, even if you weren’t here to answer any questions that he might have.

It’s interesting, seeing himself this way. Groupchats where he was an active participant, talking about parties or plans he has no recollection of, or discussing flight schedules for the week. He swaps Star Wars and Harry Potter trivia with Fanboy and gym regimes with Hangman and sends music back and forth with Coyote.

When he opens the text thread he has with you, the only one pinned to the top of his messages, his breath catches at the last message received.

I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.

It was sent the day of his accident, and he knew by the time stamp that it was sent after the crash. You must have texted that to him while you were waiting for news on his condition, and not for the first time, he feels both guilt and gratitude go through him; he’s so sorry that he’s hurt you like this, but he’s so glad he’s here now.

He scrolls for a while, reading you rambling to him about your work day and bouncing ideas for articles off of him, jumping from one topic to the next while you know he’s in the air or teaching a class so he doesn’t have his phone on him. Based on his responses that come later on, he knows he never minded the almost nonsensical messages. Even now, he finds it adorable and enjoys reading through them. There are conversations about dinner and what true crime documentary the two of you were going to watch that weekend.

There’s a little bit of everything in these messages between the two of you, but his brow furrows when he gets to a point about a week before his accident.

I’m on my way home, he had texted you, You better be ready for me, Pumpkin.

He scrolls further up, trying to find the beginning of the conversation that led to that, and he almost wishes he wouldn’t have.

You had texted him earlier that morning, when he barely must have left the house to go to base, a picture of you. There was a playful smirk on your lips, and you had what looked to be the cap from his formal dress whites perched crooked on your head. That in and of itself wasn’t what made his breath hitch, though. It was the fact that you were still in bed, your arm draped over your chest where he could see everything but everything, you hanging onto only a single shred of decency.

Fly well today, Lieutenant Commander.

It had descended into a day full of teasing from there, each message dirtier than the one before. Descriptions of what you wanted him to do to you and him warning you of what he would do when he got his hands on you. He feels flushed all over, but he keeps scrolling up. He bypasses recipes you wanted his opinion on and a reminder of what the Hulu password was, and eventually finds more pictures. Some are more risque than others, but all of them make him feel like the temperature in the room rose by multiple degrees.

There’s a tickle in his brain again, and he finds himself closing the messaging app and going to his photo albums. There’s a locked album there, and he knows, he just knows what it’s going to contain.

He shouldn’t. He knows that he shouldn’t. It feels like a strange invasion of privacy. But he’s wracking his mind to try and remember what the code would be to get into it anyway, and he curses when he gets it wrong first once, then a second time. He enters your birthday on the third attempt and groans out loud when he’s immediately met with the filthiest images he’s ever seen.

It’s a whole gallery of you, or the two of you together, and Bradley can’t stop himself from looking. He bites his lip as he takes in the photos, his mind so overrun with thoughts of how fucking stunning you are that he can barely think straight at all.

He stops at one in particular, clicking to enlarge it, and loses all thoughts entirely. Neither of your faces are in it, but he doesn’t need to guess that it’s the two of you. You’re sitting back against his chest, his ankles hooked over your legs, forcing them wide for him. He can see your nails biting into his thighs, but it’s his own hand that draws his attention. With the hand that’s not taking the selfie style photo, his fingers are gliding through the wetness gathered between your legs. You shine against the dark wedding band on his left land, one that’s noticeably absent from his finger now. He’s practically panting as he stares.

He’s so hypnotized by the way the two of you look together that he doesn’t hear the garage door open or the sound of you walking into the house.

“Baby?”

Your voice makes him jump so high that his phone goes flying out of his hand, a curse leaving his lips. He scrambles to pick it up when he sees you reaching for it as well, and your eyebrows are raised high as you look at him in surprise.

“Hey,” his voice cracks, higher pitched than normal, and he blushes. Your eyebrows raise a little bit higher. “Hi, sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yup,” he nods, faking a cough so he could try to clear his throat, his face flushed. “Totally fine.”

It’s not difficult to see how skeptical you are, and it’s hard for him to maintain eye contact with you and not let his eyes flicker down your body now that he has an idea of what rests underneath the smart dress you wore.

You eye him suspiciously, “Are you sure?”

He contemplates for a moment, trying to figure out a way to get himself out of this conversation, because the longer you looked at him like that the hotter he became under the collar. He took a deep breath, nodding again.

“I was looking at messages and pictures,” he says all in one breath, not liking the idea of completely lying to you. He rationalized that a different version of the truth was okay, even as the pictures flashed in his mind again. “Trying to see if anything jogged my memory.”

You search his eyes, and he tries his best to appear innocent, willing the hardening in his jeans to go down before you took notice. He suspected you already might have from the hint of a blush on your cheeks. “Did it?”

If he thought hard enough he swore he could almost feel you. Your back against his chest, how soft your inner thighs left. How warm your wetness felt against his fingers as he took you to the edge.

“No,” he stutters out after a moment, shaking his head, his face burning, “nothing yet.”

________

He finds himself rubbing his thumb against the fading tan line on his left ring finger, something he had seen you do time and time again. He hadn’t really wondered up until this point where his ring was, but ever since he saw the picture with it so clearly against your skin, he couldn’t get it out of his head.

He’s helping you in the kitchen a few days later, mesmerized as always by how efficient and easy you made everything look. You roll your eyes when he comments on it.

“It’s cookies, Bradley. Nothing fancy.”

“But they’re from scratch. The dough isn’t pre-made. That’s fancy!”

You laugh at him in response, shaking your head. You take the rings on your left hand off, sitting them beside the sink as you wash your hands before the two of you get started. It raises the subject back to the forefront of his mind. He had been desperate to ask you for the last few days, but hadn’t built up the courage to do it. But he can almost feel it on his finger now, can feel a ghost of your fingers as you slide it into place, and it’s suddenly more of a need to know.

“Can I uh…can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What happened to my wedding ring?”

You pause from where you’re cracking an egg into the mixing bowl, your eyebrows raised high. You set it down gently, turning to face him.

“Does it bother you…that I wear mine, still?”

“No!” he insists, hating even the idea of you taking it off. “It doesn’t bother me at all. I promise. We just have never acknowledged mine? I know that I wear one - I remember wearing one, and I’ve seen it in pictures, too.”

“You love your ring,” you tell him softly, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he says, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But you give him a small smile, though he can see the pain in your eyes, and shake your head.

“You don’t fly with it on,” you explain, “you tried, at first, but you had been flying so long without anything on your hands that you couldn’t get used to it being there when you were operating the controls.”

He thinks for a moment and the words come to him slowly. “You were the one who told me to start taking it off when I fly.”

“I was.”

“Why?”

Your lips quirk and you shrug. “I’m more worried about you flying safely than wearing your ring at all times. You keep it in one of the pockets of your flight suit when you go up in the air now.”

Of course you were more worried for him. He should have expected nothing less from you and the way you effortlessly care for him. He can also picture that, he thinks. It’s easy to imagine not wanting to be separated from the physical reminder that he belongs to you, so even if he couldn’t wear it, he’d at least have it on him, in the inner chest pocket right above his heart.

“So..” He doesn’t quite know how to ask his question, but you must read it on his face.

You twist your own ring on your finger in the way you always seemed to do to center yourself. Pain flashed across your face and Bradley knew you were remembering, too. “They uh..they had to cut your flight suit off, before you went into surgery. You weren’t breathing and were bleeding…” you cut yourself off, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking the visual from your head. “But it was still in your pocket. So. I have it.”

He sets down the bag of chocolate chips he had been holding and walks the few steps to where you’re standing at the counter. When he holds his arms open, you don’t hesitate to step into them. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as he breathes in your scent.

“I’m so sorry I put you through that,” he whispers into the strands of your hair, and he feels the way you squeeze him in response.

“You’re okay now,” you speak into his chest, and he thinks he might feel you press a kiss there, directly over the spot where that inner pocket of his flight suit would be, where he kept you when he had no other choice.

The two of you stand there wrapped up together for a long moment. When you lift your head, your eyes are glassy, but you give him a smile and a small kiss to his lips.

Later, after the cookies have been made and devoured, you join him on the back porch. You had taken to sitting on the swing together and when you sit beside him tonight, he sees you rolling something between your fingers. His breath catches when he sees exactly what it is. You’re staring at it too, your gaze intense and pondering. He doesn’t speak, not quite knowing what to say. Eventually, you break out of your haze and meet his eyes.

“You don’t have to put it back on,” you tell him, holding your hand out to him. His wedding band sits on your palm, shining against your skin. For a moment he sees you in white standing right in front of him, wildflowers in your hair.

His fingertips brush yours when he takes it from you, admiring the piece of jewelry he wasn’t aware that he missed until it was back in his possession.

“But it’s yours. I want - I want you to have it.”

He rolls it between his fingers, contemplating for a moment. He swallows, suddenly overcome with emotion he hadn’t seen coming and that tingling that’s starting to become familiar to him. You had picked it out yourself and he knows when he looks, he’ll see an engraving of your initials beside his. He was always so proud to be able to wear this, knowing that it symbolized being with you, a small way of telling anyone who saw it that he was lucky enough to be your husband.

But he wasn’t him - not yet, not completely. Everyday brought him closer to thinking that he could be, though.

“Pumpkin, I…” he trailed off, not sure what to say.

“Hey,” you murmur, cupping his cheek and turning his head to meet your eyes. You didn’t look mad, or upset, and you’re giving him the gentlest, kindest look anyone ever had. But your eyes didn’t hold pity or sympathy either - just a trust and love that he’s still not sure what he could have ever done to deserve. “Whenever you’re ready. And if you never are-”

“I will be,” he cut you off; he wanted nothing more than to be ready. “I just…I still have something to prove to myself.”

You nod, and Bradley leans forward to kiss you softly. He leaves his forehead pressed against yours when he pulls away, relishing in the calm you brought him.

“I’ll get there,” he says, “I promise.”

��------

He’s spent time alone, but he hasn’t spent time away from you with other people. He’s hesitant to accept the invite from Mav to visit the hanger he had here. But planes and his godfather had been a staple of Bradley’s childhood, an influence on his whole life, really. He had been cleared to drive earlier in the week, so that Saturday, he leaves early. He’s anxious at the thought of being away from you but he knows that the him from before wouldn’t have said no to the invitation and he was so determined to get back to who that was. And he knows that you have a life outside of taking care of him, too. You’re getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife later and he knows you’re excited, even if you hung onto him a little bit longer than a normal hug when he said goodbye. You had made him promise that he would call you if he needed anything and the whole way to the desert, his fingers twitched, wanting to call you just to hear your voice.

Mav greets him with a large smile and a tight hug, “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too,” Bradley says. He means it, even if he does miss you already. He looks around the hanger, taking note of the few planes and motorcycles throughout the long stretch. It was a lot more than the collection he had when Bradley was 17. “What are we working on today?”

Mav gives him his signature grin. “I want to show you something.”

He follows him to the end of the hanger, where a large blue tarp is covering what can’t be anything but a plane. His godfather gestures to it. Bradley raises an eyebrow but walks up to it, grabbing hold of the tarp and yanking it back. Like he suspected, he’s greeted by a Cessna. It’s a classic 172 by the looks of it, a smaller four seater. It’s a sleek white in color with subtle burnt orange line work. Bradley whistles. It was beautiful in a way that only planes like this could be.

“When’d you get this one?”

Mav smirks, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”

“What?”

“Take a look at the other side.” He nods his head, urging Bradley forward. Confused and intrigued, he follows the instructions, walking around to the other side of the small plane. He gets what Mav was saying, then, and sucks in a breath. Right there emblazoned on the side, in an elegant script, was Pumpkin.

This wasn’t Mav’s plane; it was his.

“You got her about six months ago,” he says softly when he joins him at his side.

Bradley reaches up and runs his fingers over the name. It’s foggy, but he thinks he can remember now. He had always wanted to own his own plane since the first time his godfather took him up in one at 6 years old. It was always a pipedream, though. He was never in one place for long enough, and while he was generally good with saving money, it was a bigger purchase than he had ever made. But then the two of you got married and a permanent station here in California. Between both of your savings and what he still had of his parents life insurance, the funds were there. It was you who had made the suggestion of finally pulling the trigger, and it was him who had suggested a four seater instead of a two seater so that if the two of you ever had children, you could all fly together. You cried when he showed you the name he had painted on it.

“Still needs some work done before she’s flyable. I thought maybe you’d want to work on it today.”

An eager smile appears on his face and he nods, already peeling his jacket off and heading toward the toolbox. If Mav noticed that he didn’t need to instruct him on where it was, he didn’t comment on it.

The two work in tandem for hours. It had only been six weeks since his accident, but he couldn’t recall a time since flight school that he had gone this long without being near a plane and it felt good doing so again. It’s easy, getting into the rhythm of twisting bolts and tinkering with the engine wires. He thinks it won’t be long until he can get this cleared to go in the air and he knows without a doubt that you’re going to be the first passenger.

His phone buzzes in the early afternoon and he doesn’t hesitate to put down the wrench he was working with and dig it out of his jeans pocket. You had sent him a selfie earlier when you had gotten to brunch, sunglasses on and a bright smile on your face with a mimosa in your hand, and he hoped it was another picture. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s Phoenix calling him, instead. He picks up, bringing the phone to his ear.

“Nat?”

“Your wife got stung by a bee. We’re on our way to the hospital.”

He can feel the dread as it settles over him. His heart beats faster in his chest. “What?”

She sighs on the other line, and he can hear commotion in the background. “She’s severely allergic, Rooster. We sat outside at brunch and we didn’t even realize it happened at first. She didn’t have her epipen on her so we had to call an ambulance. She’s going to be fine, but you should get here anyway, okay?”

He feels like he can barely breathe, like the room is closing in on him a little bit. Mav must notice the panic written all over him because he’s quick to come over and take the phone out of his hand, taking over the conversation. He can barely hear him over the roaring in his head. You were hurt. He knew you were extremely allergic to bees. That was something he had remembered. You were supposed to carry an epipen on you at all times. He can’t remember if you’d ever gotten stung when he was there. He can’t remember how bad it got if you ever were. But now you were in the back of an ambulance and on your way to a hospital and he could feel his fear all the way down to his bones.

“Bradley, hey. Look at me.”

Mav is in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders. He meets his eyes and tries to breathe, but all he can see is you, struggling to catch a breath and being loaded into the back of an ambulance.

“I’ll drive, okay? Let’s go.”

He follows him to the car, not really calculating anything other than the fact that he was almost an hour away from you and what if there was traffic and why didn’t you have your epipen on you?

“She’s going to be okay.”

“But-”

“Phoenix said the paramedics administered epi as soon as they arrived, and it didn’t take them long to get to her. She was awake and was already breathing easier when they left for the hospital. Didn’t even need to use the sirens.”

That doesn’t make him feel better. Not really. Knowing that trained professionals weren’t panicking must have meant that you were okay, but he knows how serious anaphylaxis is, too.

He can’t reconcile everything that he’s feeling right now. He has never, ever felt like this before. The thought of something happening to you is scarier than any mission he had ever been on, any enemy he had encountered in the air.

“Mav I can’t - I can’t lose her. I just got her.”

“You aren’t going to.”

Bradley doesn’t say anything, can’t think of a single thing to say, and instead buries his head in his hands from his spot in the passenger seat. You were going to be okay. You had to be okay. Because he may not remember everything about the two of you, but he did know for certain that if something ever happened to you, he would never, ever recover from it.

He doesn’t wait for Mav once they get to the hospital, the older man opting to drop him off at the front before going to find parking. He’s practically sprinting as he goes through the emergency room doors and vaguely, he remembers you telling him about the time this happened before, when you took yourself to the hospital and ended up needing surgery. He can almost feel that panic now, and it makes what he’s already feeling worse.

“Can I help-“

“I’m looking for my wife. She was brought in because of a bee sting-“

“Sir-“

“She’s really allergic and-“

“Sir!” The nurse behind the counter snaps, raising her voice over his to get through to him. “I need your wife’s name if I’m going to find her for you.”

Oh. Yes, he thinks, your name. They need your name.

It’s the first time he’s said your full name, and your first and his last name feel so right coming off his tongue. But he can’t focus on that right now, giving all of his attention to the nurse who is typing so slowly.

Before she can even hit enter, though, he hears his callsign echo behind him. He spins, heart racing with anxiety, and spots Nat making her way over to him. She gives the annoyed nurse a kind, charming smile as she grabs Bradley by the arm

“Sorry about him, ma’am. I got him from here.”

She pulls him away without another word, heading toward the hallway off the packed waiting room.

“Is she okay? Nat, is-“

“She’s fine, Rooster. Coming down from the adrenaline rush that the epinephrine gave her, but she’ll be okay.”

“What about-“

Nat stops in front of a closed door, lowering her voice. “Bradley. She’s okay.”

He’s pushing past her before she even finishes, spotting you on the bed through the glass and half drawn curtain. You look so small amongst the crinkly white sheets, still in the clothes you wore to brunch. Your makeup is a bit smudged and your eyes are red and he hates to think that you were scared enough to start crying. You’re holding an oxygen mask in your hand at your side.

“Hi baby.” Even your voice sounds more pitched. He’s quick to make it to your side.

Your breathing is slightly elevated, and the heart monitor is beating a little bit faster than he thinks is normal. He grabs the hand holding the mask, placing it over your mouth to start providing you with the supplemental air again. You make a small sound of surprise, but take in a deep breath of it anyway before pushing his hand away.

“I’m okay.”

But your hands are shaking and your eyes are wider than normal. The skin that he can see is splotchy with hives.

He looks back at Nat, who is still hovering in the doorway, an eyebrow arched and a small smirk on her face. He ignores the look. “Can you grab a doctor?”

You protest from the bed, but Bradley doesn’t waiver. With a fond roll of her eyes, Nat disappears from view.

“Bradley. Sweetheart.” You grip his wrist, trying to get him to focus on you. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

“You’re in the emergency room because you went into anaphylactic shock. You are not fine.”

“But I am,” you insist, smiling softly at him, even as your body trembles as it works to burn through the adrenaline that was injected into it, “medicine worked just fine.”

The door slides open before he can respond, an attending doctor who looks like he’s been up for longer than is healthy and in wrinkled green scrubs introducing himself as he walks in.

“Is she okay?” Bradley demands immediately, and the tired man looks startled for a moment at how abrupt the question was. Bradley stares at him, his eyes wide and unblinking as he waits for the answer. His heart is still pounding in his chest. He feels you tangle one of your hands with one of his and he squeezes back when he feels the pressure from you. He knows you’re trying to reassure him.

“And you are…?”

“I’m her husband,” he answers easily, the words falling off his tongue like he had said them a thousand times before. You suck in a small breath and tighten your grip on his hand again.

“Ah,” the doctor hums, flipping through the chart he’s holding. Bradley wonders if all non-military hospitals move this slowly or if it was just because of how anxious he is at this moment, but he really, really needs him to answer his question.

“Is she okay?” he repeats.

“Bradley,” you murmur, but he keeps his eyes trained on the man in the scrubs and white coat.

“She responded well to the epinephrine that was administered by the paramedics who brought her in,” he finally says, looking up from the chart and taking a step toward your side. He stops when he sees that Bradley doesn’t move an inch. He sighs, switching direction to go to your other side instead. “How are you feeling Mrs. Bradshaw?”

You answer his questions as they come, Bradley paying rapt attention the whole time. Your throat doesn’t feel tight anymore. You aren’t lightheaded, but you do feel a little shortness of breath. You feel jittery - wired, almost. You’re both assured that it’s completely normal as the drug works its way out of your system. They can give you something to try and calm you down, and they want you to stay for a few hours to make sure you don’t go back into the allergic reaction once the epinephrine has worn off. The thought makes his blood run cold.

“Should she stay overnight?” he asks, but the doctor shakes his head no.

“The standard observation timeslot should be just fine, Mr. Bradshaw. But we’ll make sure you both know what to look out for when you leave.”

He walks out without saying much else. Bradley feels you tug on his hand, his name leaving your lips in a whisper. He meets your gaze and he watches as your eyes soften even more.

“Sit down, honey.”

He listens to you, dragging the chair beside your bed as close as possible. He rests his elbows on the mattress beside you, holding your hand tightly between both of his.

“I’m okay,” you repeat again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your fingers and taking a deep breath. “I…this really scared me.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you say softly, running your thumb over one of the hands holding yours, soothing the skin and helping his racing heart. Your touch is like magic to him, providing an almost instant calm that he desperately needed. Guilt curled in his stomach, knowing that even now, you’re the one helping him.

“I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around.”

“We comfort each other, baby. That’s how this works.”

“Why didn’t you have your epipen on you, Pumpkin? Don’t you normally carry it?” he asks quietly, a touch of urgency still in his tone. He couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if you were alone and this happened, with no one around to call 911. He could have lost you, all over a silly little bee sting, and he can’t wrap his mind around that. He just got you. He had had you, he knew. But he was just getting you back.

“I switched bags this morning and forgot to take it out of the pocket of the old one, I guess. I haven’t had to use one since college. I forget about it, sometimes.”

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to rid himself of the worst case scenarios. He’s the one that normally reminds you to always have it on you, he thinks. He vaguely recalls having a spare in the glove compartment of the Bronco, and in the drawer in the kitchen and maybe one in the bedroom, too.

Not for the first time, he curses his memory and the accident that took it from him.

When he opens his eyes, his look is intense, “Never again, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, but Bradley shakes his head.

“No. Promise me. Please?”

Your lips part and you stare at him for a long moment. His gaze never waivers from yours. He needs you to listen to him. To hear him.

“I promise,” you finally whisper.

He rises from the chair, pressing a kiss to your lips. He keeps his forehead against yours, breathing you in.

“Will you lay with me?” You ask quietly, shy in a way reminiscent of when you asked him to say I love you on the porch all those weeks ago. He hates that you felt you even needed to ask.

With no hesitation, he maneuvered himself into the small bed beside you. He kisses your forehead once, twice, three times, holding you as tightly as he could. Your body still gave the occasional tremble but they had lessened now, your breaths coming a little bit easier, and he felt the tightness in his chest ease.

“Sorry for being a mess,” he whispers into your hair.

“Don’t,” you whisper back, and he feels you shake your head from where it’s tucked into his chest. “It means you care.”

The words are there, right on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t say them, not yet or here. You deserve more than a frantic hospital room confession.

-------

Part Nine :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I hope you liked this one! We're nearing the end, but I think everyone is really going to like the next chapter. Would love to hear any thoughts you may have :)

Tag List: @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-underthesun -@avengersfan25 - @wkndwlff - @zbeez-outlet - @lt-spork - @indynerdgirl - @loveforaugust - @mssleepy876b

@kassieesworld - @luckylexie - @lovemesomevesey - @mizzzpink - @books-for-summer - @a-serene-place-to-be - @deviltsunoda - @tv-fanatic18 - @memoriesat30 - @melody-death - @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog - @dabisblackprincess - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @realdirectionx - @waywardhunter95 - @myownworstenemyyy - @sexualparkour - @sadpetalsstuff - @almostgenerallyalways -@alilstressyandlotdepressy - @14readwritedraw96 - @ccbb2222 - @taytaylala12 - @alittlechaotics-blog - @starkleila

@shelbycillian - @mavrellover91 - @vici111 - @merishfit - @plaper1 - @lunamooncole - @eclecticfashionbookszipper - @pariahsparadise - @bunny-nonnie - @blackwidownat2814 - @huang-the-geek - @jpgliv - @topaz125 - @bluelicious - @loveyhoneydovey - @pisupsala - @nuvoleincielo - @littlemiss-n - @olivezeppelin - @jynxmirage - @shanimallina87 - @ouralcohol - @lumpypoll - @discowitchyy - @bellaireland1981- @princessmiaelicia - @eighthwvnder - @floydflys - @smile-child-13 - @rashelruby10 - @aj-weekend - @wolfiealina - @csoutsider - @cowboybarbie - @haydensith - @itsizzythebell - @caitlin222 - @vabeachazn - @phantomxoxo - @letsgomamas - @myhealthymarvelobsession - @slippinginto-theairwaves - @winterrebel04

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jakes3resin · 8 months ago

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Can you tell us about your other fics if you already have an established plot?

I'd love to! So there's quite a number of them I won't lie. I tend to get inspired by the randomest things. These are all in various stages of plotted out and written.

A/B/O fic (technically turning into 3 fics) that follows Bucky & Buck through the war, described below.

Courting Arc (top of my list to finish writing) - Bucky POV as he is anonymously courted during his time in the states just before he gets sent over to England (there's a post I'm basing my writing around I'll link it in a moment) <- published

England Arc- a quick look into their lives as they run missions with A/B/O elements (this will be pretty short I think) mostly snippets of scenes from the show just now with Omega Bucky and Alpha Buck <- published

Stalag Arc - Omega Bucky and his awful time in Germany. Here is where we see what being an Omega in war is really like in my omegaverse. Bucky is the highest ranked Omega in the camp meaning he's technically 'in charge' of keeping those Omegas in line. He's tested by his heats, keeping his pack together, and finally by a German order that could tear Buck and Bucky apart. This is a big fic for me to prepare for, and I'm building up to it by writing the Courting Arc first <- next on deck

Biker Gale AU (my beloved, genuinely obsessed with this AU) - this was inspired by one of hogans-heroes AUs. So, Gale leads an outlaw-esque biker club, and Bucky used to be his right hand (and lover) except one day out of the blue he just disappeared. Gale does everything he can to find Bucky, but there's no trail to follow, no clues to put together, nothing. Fast forward about two years, Bucky arrives on Curt's doorstep holding a small baby with the brightest blue eyes and prettiest blonde curls and begs Curt to watch his baby for 5 days. 5 days later Bucky comes back in town bruised to all hell with the FBI on his tail with their own nefarious reasons for tracking Bucky down. Bucky has nowhere else to turn especially since when he comes back to Curt's he finds Gale holding his little baby. (This could be A/B/O I haven't decided, but it's definitely at least mpreg)

Amnesia fic - this is based off of a post I made about the effects of Bucky getting hit over the head like 3 times in the span of two days, its... somewhere (edit: here). But its about Bucky waking up with no memory of who he is just before he gets interrogated by the Germans and sent to Stalag Luft III where he meets a man that his heart rejoices at seeing but his mind doesn't recognize. Buck of course has to deal with the love of his life forgetting him.

Magic AU - Bucky is a Scamander and its now everyone's problem to deal with it. The tag to find all of my ramblings for it is magic au (not that Tumblr's tag system works), and @getinthefuckingjaeger just wrote the best ever fic of Bucky and Theseus so go read that.

I've also got a few paragraphs written of Foster Kid Bucky somewhere but that might never see the light of day (that's also from a hogans-heroes AU) where Bucky is a jaded teenager just trying to make it to 18 to get out of his shitty foster placement when in comes Buck whose mother finally divorced his dad, got custody of her kids, and moved to her hometown to escape. It's about a Bright Buck meeting a Jaded Bucky (a flip on their usual dynamics)

Blonde Bucky AU - I wrote a blurb on the Twin Cleven AU post, and the idea of Bucky bleaching his hair on a drunken night out with Curt and Bubbles has haunted me since <- published as well

There might be more? But these are the only ones I can remember off the top of my head right now that are plotted out beyond oh that'd be a good fic. I have a lot of time spent sitting and waiting right now, so I have the ability to write a multitude of fics. I'm happy to talk about any of these fics if you want to come into my inbox or my messages.

#asks #my writing #buck x bucky #clegan

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honnelander · 2 months ago

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Hi there! Hope you are doing well. I was just wondering if you quit the “go fish” series. If not— there’s no rush. I just wanted to check in and ask how you are and share my compliments for you. I really like your writing style and how you beautifully capture every moment. Sometimes I even go back to reread your go fish series and appreciate how well you paint the atmosphere and each character’s essence. Are there any authors you take inspiration from or books you recommend?

If you are nervous about finishing the series— don’t be. You’re clearly gifted and should trust your intuition. Remember to take care of yourself first. I think your audience will adore anything you post, so don’t stress over it. And if you have a writer’s block but are still pushing through it, good luck. Thanks again for sharing your meticulously crafted work with the community.

hi there 🥹 thanks for checking in (you and everyone else who has been kind enough to leave asks in my inbox and comments on my posts)

I haven’t quit the series, it’s just taking me a hell of a lot longer to finish it than I ever expected due to a lot of different things. I had hit a writer’s block, have scrapped what I’ve started a few times, or didn’t like the idea I had and I didn’t want to rush anything or put something out there that didn’t feel authentic to the series that has touched thousands of people 🥹😭 I want to get this right.

Since writing has been always something I’ve enjoyed getting lost in, I thought now would be a good time to get back into it, especially since I have a lot of personal stuff going on.

Monthsssss ago I had finally started writing the next part for go fish! that I absolutely loved and then, quite literally had forgotten about it. I just went back to my work and re-read it, and it’s already 4.9 k words! I would love to just post the parts that are finished, because the actual confession everyone’s been waiting for months for isn’t done and will probably be another 3,000 words or so. (I tend to get carried away 😅)

So let me know what you guys would prefer! The finished part is 2.3k words. Would you guys like for me to post that? Or just wait longer to read everything at once? It’s definitely be over 6k words, which is how massive the last part was….(I honestly just might post what’s finished bc I feel bad to have left everyone hanging for so long 🥲)

And thank you, thank you, thank YOU for your (and everyone’s!) kind compliments and high praise- I really don’t feel deserving of any of it but it all truly means so much to me. 🥹🤍

To answer your question, I actually don’t really have an author or inspiration that I draw from 🤔 I used to read a ton as a kid (books and fic) and I guess that has helped me find my writing style? I also write things in a way that scratches an itch I have when I look for fic to read. I want just enough details to set the scene and the feelings of the characters but not be bogged down with too much that it drags the pace down 🫠 I’ll never forget when I read IT by Stephen King and it just dragged on FOREVER bc he would write so much word vomit that (in my opinion) took me out of the story and frustrated me. I wanted to get to the good parts but also not miss anything important, so when I write I try to get to the point 😂😅

#asks #go fish! au

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eggwishing · 4 months ago

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eebsiebeebsie how d i draw such fun sketchies like u do. how do u loosen up and get da creative juices flowing. how do u stick to ur style have u just found how u like 2 draw and feels good. whas it something u cultivated on purpose or just happened. how do u not forget how 2 draw every time u go to do it ( mayb this isnt a problem for u but it is for mee lol) Sawrry if this is a lot of questions for ur beautiful mind. i lov ur art and ur very inspiring 2 me always 🫶

!!! I just remembered this ask was in my inbox, oops …. Sorry anon🙏 it’s been a couple days!! Sometimes i just find myself in a mood to make art so i turn on music and draw whatever comes to mind first. Usually it;s like a dragon or some other creature, and then i go on from there after warming up. but other days it’s tougher than that. i’ll have to sit myself down and put away all distractions and force myself to get over the hurdle of getting started. Then i usually get into a flow. Sometimes i don’t so i give myself a minute before trying again. I really should be doing that right now lol.. i got things i need to do… but this isn’t about that!! Moving on!! i don’t really try to Stick to a style exactly, it kind of just comes out how it comes out. Sometimes i Will see cool art that i do like and note what about it appeals to me, and then try to incorporate that into what i draw the next time i sit down to do it. My style is incrementally & constantly changing in small ways n it happens both naturally as i improve at drawing certain things and unnaturally as i sprinkle in bits of other people’s styles. The main idea is just drawing what you think looks good !

sometimes i do forget things i’ve previously learned, but that just comes from going for a while without using it. Sometimes i go too long drawing simple paw-looking hands and have to take a minute and do a handful of hand studies to refresh. The best way to retain what you’ve learned is to use it regularly. It’s like a muscle 😊🙏 do some studies, then have fun making some drawings of characters you like or locations while applying it. i enjoy drawing anatomy on its own so i often just have pages of muscle sketches and weird poses. The way you learn is also important. if you’re following along & copying something without analyzing why it looks that way in that pose, or at that angle, it may make it harder in the long run to retain anything useful. Make cheat sheets for yourself. Leave little notes next to drawings with tips or explanations that may help you later. doing that helped a lot when i was first learning^^

also give yourself ample time to warm up. Sometimes you just need to go through a few rough sketches before it starts to come back to you. I used to get really frustrated, thinking i had suddenly forgotten everything , when really i just had to give my art brain a second to wake up. Patience and perseverance are key

thank you so much for the ask and your sweet words ^^ i’m really honored that my art inspired you, and i hope you’re able to get something useful out of what i’ve said!!

#Asks #Not art #advice

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ts1m1kas · 1 year ago

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Original Ask: how about kostas thinking his girlfriend forgot his birthday, literally everyone wished him a happy birthday but she didn't, and after training he comes back a little moody but finds a sweet cake baked with his girlfriend apologizing cause she wanted it to be surprise!! (@findingnemosworld)

Word Count: 1085 words

(author's note: thank you for the request my love !! i've been waiting desperately for a kostas request, so this one really inspired me 🫶)

Kostas woke up with a smile on his face. The sun shone through the curtains, illuminating the bedroom he shared with his girlfriend. However, today was extra special. It was his birthday. Kostas loved his birthday. He enjoyed nothing more than spending time with his family and the celebrations that came with the occasion.

He picked up his phone from his bedside table and began to reply to the mass of birthday wishes. His instagram inbox was the most full. Fans from all over the world took time out of their day to wish him happy birthday. It warmed his heart to know that he was appreciated and supported by so many people.

Kostas turned on his side and gently pulled his girlfriend closer to him. He decided to wake her up by pressing soft kisses onto the skin of her neck. Eventually, Y/N woke up and laid her head on Kostas’ chest.

“Good morning, baby,” she whispered tiredly, “Did you sleep well?”

Kostas was confused. He had expected her to say happy birthday and press a kiss to his lips. He decided not to dwell on it and chalked it down to her early morning tiredness.

“Yes, I slept fine.” He replied, trying not to let his annoyance show.

“Are you sure, you seem irritated?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I need to get ready for training now.”

“Okay my love,” she replied, smiling up at him as he got out of bed.

Kostas just looked away, knowing the hurt would be written across his face. He moved over to the wardrobe to busy himself with getting dressed. Y/N watched him intently. She always said he looked his best in the morning.

Once he was ready to go, he said a brief goodbye to Y/N and left. As he drove to the training ground he mulled over the events of the morning. Surely she hadn’t forgotten his birthday? Y/N was never the type of person to forget important dates. She always remembered every detail about the people she held dear to her.

The drive was over before he knew it. Kostas pulled into a parking space, grabbed his training bag off of the backseat of his car and headed inside the building.

The AXA training ground was one of Kostas’ favourite places to be. Football had been his passion since he was a small boy playing on the streets of Greece. He never in a million years thought he would be where he was now. The peaceful feeling overtook him as he made his way to the changing rooms.

Pushing open the door, Kostas walked in. “Hello birthday boy!” he heard Andrew cheer.

"Come on everyone, let's sing him a song!"

As his teammates began to sing happy birthday, he felt instantaneously better. At least they had remembered his birthday.

Meanwhile, Y/N felt awful. She knew it was Kostas’ birthday, but in order to surprise him she had to pretend she’d forgotten. She also had to pretend she didn’t see the wounded look on her boyfriend’s face as he came to the conclusion that she really hadn’t remembered his special day.

As soon as Kostas had left the house, Y/N jumped into action. She blew up balloons and littered them down the hallway. She stuck up banners in every room and hung up bunting on the doorways. Once she was satisfied with the decorations, she checked her phone.

Y/N had ordered a custom cake for Kostas from his favourite bakery. She meticulously planned the design before sending her ideas to the bakers. She had finally received the text that told her it was ready for collection.

Pulling on one of Kostas’ hoodies, she set off to the bakery. Once she had arrived, the workers brought the cake out for her to look at. It had a white icing base with blue detailing to reflect the flag of the country he had grown up in. Written on top of the cake was ‘Happy Birthday Kostas!’. Y/N paid for the cake and they packaged it up for her. After thanking them for their help, she began her walk home.

Kostas had just finished training. Luckily for him, the training session hadn’t been too gruelling and he wasn’t too sweaty. He changed out of his athletic gear and into the tracksuit he had arrived in. He then began his journey home.

Pulling into the driveway of his house, he exited the car, locked it and pulled out his house keys. He was still feeling sour from his morning, although the team had done a good job at cheering him up. Unlocking the door, his eyes widened when he saw the decorations. Y/N was sitting at the bottom of the staircase and upon seeing her boyfriend enter the house, jumped up and ran into his arms.

Kostas dropped his bags and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend’s middle. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and smiled down at her.

“Happy birthday handsome,” she said, looking up at him, reciprocating the smile he was directing at her.

"I knew you wouldn't forget."

“How could I forget one of the most special days of the year?”

This elicited a laugh from Kostas as he leant down to give his girlfriend a proper kiss. She smiled into the kiss and when they broke apart, grabbed his hand and began to lead him to the kitchen.

“I have another surprise for you.”

Once she had pulled Kostas into the kitchen, she motioned for him to stand in front of the box on their kitchen counter. Kostas looked up at her, giving her a look that read; should I open it? She nodded at him, urging him to continue.

Unwrapping the ribbon, Kostas pulled the lid of the box open and raked his eyes over the cake that lay inside. Looking up at his girlfriend and back down at the cake again, a warm feeling spread through his body. Kostas had never been so in love with anyone in his life.

He moved over and pulled Y/N into another hug. Once they pulled away, Kostas took a deep breath, “Thank you so much γλυκό κορίτσι. I love you.”

“I love you too, Kostas Tsimkas. I’d never forget your birthday.”

The pair then grabbed forks and sat at their dining table to eat the cake. The cake was not only a symbol of Kostas’ birthday, but a symbol of the love the couple shared.

#kostas tsimikas x reader #kostas tsimikas #fanfiction #fanfic #football #liverpool football club #lfc #hot footballers #liverpool fc #request #by ts1m1kas #🧡#kostas tsimikas blurb #kostas tsimikas imagine

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pavedinashes-if · 1 year ago

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how would the romanced ROs deal with an MC that sometimes just forgets to eat... all day. because they got distracted

Finally getting back to this Q, from what feels like a century ago. But, I have to say I was jumping around from excitement when I received it. This is such an amazing ask and it took me a while to get it done properly so it fits the ROs just the way I imagine it would... enough of this tho, here's the A to your Q: L-O-N-G RESPONSE BELOW [author's comment: dear followers, pls remember, these Qs addressing all ROs are from a time I had my inbox open for these kind of long scenarios. atm my inbox is closed. thank you 💜]

Your Neighbour: They are a bit surprised they didn't notice any earlier, and they feel ashamed for it. From now on, they will make sure to have some light snacks ready in their fridge - always something different to prevent boredom and perhaps even inspire your appetite. They will also leave you little messages on post-its and send mobile check-ins. If their schedule allows, they want to eat together with you to establish a healthy habit and combine it with some quality time. There will be an equal mix of eating at home and dining out.

Your Ex: They know you struggle with eating regularly, and they hate seeing you go through it. They worry a lot because of this. Therefore, they came up with an ultimate plan. While they admit they're not great at cooking, there's one dish they excel at: their signature lasagna. So one thing's for sure: there will always be some lasagna in the fridge that they'll feed you if necessary. Furthermore, they've developed a strategy of placing little treats you enjoy everywhere, like a tasty protein bar in your jacket, an apple in your backpack, or a self-made shake with your favorite ingredients in the fridge - hoping to remind you to eat, keep your mood up, or prevent your blood sugar from reaching hell.

Your New Foe: They're fuming. Seriously? You're not a kid anymore. They will definitely scold you about your careless behavior. Damn, this talk will be uncomfortable. What you don't know though, is that they are deeply worried. Unfortunately, their coping mechanism with worrying sucks. They're really mad at themselves for not seeing it sooner. Suddenly, they storm out of the room, and you think it's because they're still mad at you. When they don't return and you hear noise from the kitchen, you decide to check what's going on. "What are you...?" you ask, but all you get is some Polish mumbling, and although you don't understand it, you're sure they are cursing. Besides this, you don't get any attention for now; they are fully focused on cooking. Lucky for you, they are incredibly talented, and you can expect a table full of mouthwatering dishes. I mean, what you don't finish today will surely feed you for the rest of the week.

Your Best Friend: They sigh. They know you tend to skip meals, and they've tried to talk to you to figure out how to fix this, but until today, nothing has helped. When they find out it's one of those days again, they'll suggest going to eat something - maybe some deli, some fries, just something quick because their priority is to ensure you eat something as soon as possible. It's a nice side effect that the time meant for a quick meal turns into a fun exchange and a sorrow-free 2-hour talk. They'll set a reminder on their phone to check in on you and call at least once a day. In the evening, they will order food from your favorite restaurant and enjoy it with you at home.

Your New Friend: Your new friend is confused. To them, eating is almost a holy ritual, which they celebrate properly - maybe even a bit obsessively. "Wait a sec, imma be back real quick." A raised finger demands you not to move. They hurry out of the room, and 5 minutes later, they return with three plates full of... um... food? You take a skeptical look. You're not sure if it's some art project or something that your body will reject the moment it enters it. You try to recognize what's served. Are these flowers? Truffles? Gold leaves? WTF? Your brows furrow. When you look up at them, there's this expectant expression all over their face. All you manage is to send them an awkward "Thank you?" before you take a fork and cautiously explore the contents of the plates.

Your Childhood Friend: Bianca is surprised to hear that there are days when you don't eat. She only remembers that you had a healthy appetite when you two were friends as children. Fortunately, she always carries some snacks around. Maybe they're not the healthiest, but at least you won't faint. Besides, she will come visit you at work/university, etc., and bring you some fresh smoothies and cupcakes. Okay, okay, it's still all sugar, BUT (!) the smoothie has fruits in it, okay?

Your Rival: "The fuck do I care?!" Sigh, sorry, MC.

Your Best Friend’s BF/GF: It’s rare to see them so serious, and that’s because they suffered from an eating disorder for a very long time and only recently managed to regain control. They understand that food can be a sensitive topic. Suddenly, something in their expression changes, a smile growing on their face. “You know what, amore mio? We will eat together from now on. I will make sure you get some proper authentic Italian food. Nobody can say no to that. You don’t need to take care of anything, capisce? Let me…” they send you a seductive smirk, their finger gently running over your forearm, “…take care of you.” accompanied by a flirty wink.

Your Boss: You two sit in their office and talk, and then, out of nowhere, you drop the bomb. You didn’t eat anything today, and obviously, this is something that keeps happening to you. They look at you with an emotionless expression on their face, their eyes not betraying their thoughts - yet you notice their jaw clenching. Then they stand up without a word and leave the room, but before you can figure out what’s going on, they’re back and sit down again. None of you is talking. It’s an awkward atmosphere. To ease the strange energy, you begin to speak about your day, and they listen - still no emotion visible. About 20 minutes later, there is a knock at the door. “Come in,” they respond, without taking their eyes off of you. One of their employees enters with a plate full of food. Once it is placed down in front of you, you realize it’s your favorite dish, together with a glass of water. “Eat.” This single word makes you look up at them, their arms crossed as they expect you to do as ordered. They won’t leave before the plate is empty. And neither will you. Oh, and this will be the last time you didn’t eat anything in a day.

Your Doctor: Worried wrinkles on their forehead, their head resting on their hand, a heavy sigh with closed eyes. “Ok, that’s not working. We need to…” they hesitate, thinking which words to pick next. “figure out a way to avoid this in the future. Tell me, is there a reason this happens?” They’d like to find out why you don’t eat and since when this is the case. They will worry, a lot, and their thoughts will circle around this topic so much, they’ll be zoning out mid-day, thinking about you and whether you are okay. Knowing just too well about the consequences for your physical and mental health, they will make it their mission to help you develop a healthy coping strategy. To them, this means cooking for you in the evening and preparing little bento boxes for the day. Congrats, you’ve just added another thing to their long daily bucket list. Fun fact: Your meal plan is way superior to their own.

Your Supplier: Oh? They forget to eat too. It seems like you’ll both starve, and it’s just a question of who’s first. They’ll joke about it. Though, to your surprise, your admission changed something in them. It’s from this day on that they will finally eat regularly, just to make sure you do too. Who would’ve thought this was possible, turning this chaotic being into somebody taking responsibility for themselves and somebody else. Spending time together eating, creating a ritual out of it, this feels like a gift to them, and they discover emotions they never experienced before. Finally, your relationship takes another turn, a more serious one.

A Stranger: They noticed - of course they did - and while they tried to make sure you two eat when you are together, they cannot control your eating behavior when you are not together. They didn’t want to address it directly to avoid making you uncomfortable, but now that it’s out, they will ask if it is okay for you if they… take care of it. “What do you mean ‘take care’?” you ask them, confused by their remark. From tomorrow on, there will always be a delivery with the most delicious dishes for you, no matter where you are - at home, at work, wherever. And it will always be something you would kill for. Of course, when you two are together, you’ll be going to the fanciest restaurants in town and even abroad, because why not fly spontaneously to Paris for the freshest baguettes and croissants in the morning? Yup, they’re good at these kinds of things.

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