#mags post soon i promise
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catsnuggie · 1 year ago
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scrybe scribbling.
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mortal-kingss · 1 year ago
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“I guess the Corruption likes you as a moth. I think it’s fitting. Do you know what a moth is to a spider, Jon?”
“You know I don’t.” His back is to Martin, and he can feel another set of hands creep to his waist.
“Prey.” Martin whispers into his ear, taking his hands as he laughs softly.
HELLO!!! i made a fic for this piece, its an au!!! please check it out, i spent a long time working on it i hope u enjoy it <3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/49448209
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It’s asexual awareness week!!! I present the most aware asexual!!!
(Possible eyestrain and trypophobia, vague spoilers for tma under the cut)
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That is not his cardigan. You can decide whose it is, but it’s. It’s not his.
(Click for better quality)
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ruyakasunshine · 19 days ago
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F1 drivers rated on how likely they are to know what ao3 is
note : this is just for entertainment. I will also use this to make a general reminder not to get anything fanfic/rpf related outside of sites such as tumblr, ao3, or wattpad. Enjoy!
This is just the current grid, because if I had to do it with every driver that raced this season, I'd get a surprisingly high amount of drivers to talk about.
20. Fernando
Grandpa. Need I to say more?
19. Checo
In a recent GQ Sport interview, he revealed that he didn't even have social media on his phone. I'd be surprised to hear he has any ao3 tab open up there.
18. K-mag
I don't feel like I need to explain this one. But I also believe that if Haas got him to read a chapter of a wattpad fanfic out loud where he has to replace Y/N with his own name after every penalty point he gets, he would have stopped causing so much ruckus. Or he might even cause more, who knows what goes on inside his mind.
17. Nico Hulk
Hear me out, he doesn't know what a fanfic is, but if he were more popular with the writer, he'd read the shit out of those.
16. Valterri
I could pay actual money to hear him read a 'kidnapped by one direction' self insert story out loud. If there is any Sauber intern lurking here, please consider. Wattpad as a sponsor would bring you a lot of money, think about it. I promise you will see a rise in your fandom if the name of the team was "wattpad kick sauber". I would buy merch. You need the money the way the constructors are going. Think about it.
15. Lance
I don't know too much about him, but I will assume he doesn't spend too much time on social media, or googling himself with all the hate he gets. But maybe if he were to read a strollonso fanfic, we might get to see him have actual expressions on his face. Granted, that would be a look of horror, but I will take what I can.
14. Carlos
I think he might combust if he read any ABO fanfic. I might want to see that.
13. Max
He is too busy sim racing to care. Good for him, I wish I could say the same about myself but alas I am too busy reading the same fanfic for the 23th time.
12. Yuki
I believe if you pronounced the term "Y/N" next to him he might assume that's a car brand. Or, like, hello in a foreign language. Again, good for him.
11. Zhou
Hear me out, fanfics seem to be quite popular in China, and he has a sister, there is no way he hasn't heard of the existences of it. I don't think he has read any though, which is for the better.
10. Franco
Our dear Franquito hasn't been on the grid for long enough to discover the amazing word that fanfics have to offer, but let me tell you that if he hasn't found out stuff yet, he'll find some soon enough. Let the writers have time to write a little bit more about him, and soon we'll get an instagram live of him reacting to those.
9. Liam
I think he is young enough to have googled himself (he had to find something to do since he's been a reserve driver since like the year 2010), but he also hasn't been a permanent member, so he might not have enough material to accidentally stumble upon.
8. Esteban
He googles himself. He knows there are fanfics. And he fucking likes that. If there is a rise of pierresteban fics on ao3 after Brazil 2024, he will be the first one to know let me tell you that much.
7. Lewis
Okay you might be wondering why this senior citizen is up here, and the answer is simple : he is too famous not to know. Like COME ON. He's been here since 2007 (which is longer than some people who'll see this post have been alive for— that's a scary thought for another day), he has been in famous and televised rivalry, and he has to live with the existence of the quote "everything but a lover" about nico and him.
There is no way he hasn't READ a fucking brocedes fanfic. If he is willing, I will teach him how to use ao3 so he can look-up some "fix-it" fics. He might use some inspiration, and who is better for that than tired college students writing about their sad ass in between lectures?
6. George
He seems like the type to lurk a lot around the internet, so the chances of him finding the link to a fic on the third page of google isn't impossible to me.
If you find any comment of someone correcting your spelling, you know who did it.
5. Pierre
He probably googles his name too often not to have stumbled upon a "Reader x Pierre Gasly" wattpad fanfic. sigh.
4. Alex
Alex, I know that you are the second most likely to have tumblr (right after george who actually has an account). The chances of you knowing what a "lemon" is is way too high for my liking.
3. Charles
The C in Charles stands for Chronically Online. My boy was known for liking tweets about himself, and we know that fans talk about fanfics on twitter. He clicked on a link of a lestappen or sebchal fanfic at least once out of curiosity let me tell you this much.
2. Lando
Too chronically online not to have read fanfics about himself. I just know he typed in "lando norris fanfiction" straight in google at least once. Jail.
1. Oscar
Here me out : his sister is a K-pop fan. If you believe that she never yapped about a fanfic she read to her brother, you are strongly unfamiliar with sibling relationships. But the chances of him not listening to her are also very high, so maybe he shouldn't be so high up my list. But oh well.
He is also good at hiding his game, but he is as online as Charles (you thought you were sneaky but we caught you clicking on that link of Max playing air-hocket dear Osc.)
For my own mental health though, I will assume he hasn't read about his own self yet.
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oneshotnewbie · 9 months ago
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how are you??
i was looking at your list and saw that you write for the walking dead and was wondering if you’d be willing to do a request on it for me? thank you!!
so it’s basically maggie greene (rhee) x teen!reader where reader is like a daughter or a younger sister to her. it’s nothing special or major, but maybe just a cute little story where reader gets sick or hurt and maggie takes care of her and is all motherly/big sister-like with reader?
also reader’s carl’s age, so i think about fourteen then? again, you can change the age if you need to, i don’t mind!
- 🍄 anon
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Authors note: Hey, sweet mushroom. I am doing okay so far, I hope you are doing great! At the same time, I hope you like this little story ♥
ᕚ---ᕘ
The world was a shadowy landscape of ruined buildings, deserted streets and the faint echoes of past civilization. The earth, once vibrant with life, now lay in the grip of a post-apocalyptic silence.
In the middle of this desolate scenario, between rusty walls, lived Maggie with her small "family" - a group of survivors who had come together to survive in this unnatural world. Among them you, whose real name had long been lost in the turmoil of time.
It was the icy wind of a wintry morning that intensified the already bitter cold of the Forsaken Land as an ominous cough snaked its way through the silence of the house. Maggie sensed the icy breath of sickness beginning to spread through the ranks of the community. You, who had previously been a steadfast and indestructible pillar of the group, were among those affected and woke up with a feverish chill.
The symptoms appeared quickly: fever, chills and an exhausted look that bore the marks of suffering. But Maggie, a woman with an aura of determination and keen eye for your needs, recognized the gravity of your situation. Your body heavy, limbs aching, and eyes bloodshot from the fever that burned within you like a raging fire. "Hey, how are you feeling today kiddo?"
"Mags, I feel like I've been torn apart by a pack of wild dogs," you whispered, every movement making your body tremble as the older one approached your bed. Your voice, a faint breath in the gloomy silence, betrayed the exhaustion and weakness that the illness brought with it.
She sat down in an empty spot on your bed and gently placed a hand on your forehead. "You're literally burning. I have to see what I can find to help you. Otherwise the fever will kill you," she spoke with a look that told stories of loss and will to survive as her inner turmoil filled the air. "You want to leave me?"
"Just to get you and the others medicine,“ The group had hardly any remedies left to fight the disease. Medicines were in short supply, and the improvised teas offered no protection against the creeping germs. The post-apocalyptic world was not forgiving, and illnesses often became inescapable judgments. But the woman in front of you refused to just abandon you to your fate. Her connection to you was deeper than anyone else's. You had become like a little sister to her, someone she wanted and even needed to protect and support. "Carol will stay with you for the time I'm gone and take care of you. I'll get back to you as soon as possible. I promise."
With one last goodbye kiss, she left you in bed and set off with Daryl to do everything they could to bring you relief while, without her, time blurred into an endless succession of feverish hours and cough-ragged days.
The sun had long since hidden behind the toxic clouds in the sky when the search for medicine became a fight for survival in the shattered ruins of the buildings. The footsteps on broken glass and the constant gusts of wind blowing through the dilapidated shutters seemed to underscore the urgency of the mission.
She searched for medication in numerous abandoned pharmacies and barricaded doctor's offices. Her hands, battered by the cold and the endless digging through rubble, searched for the glimmer of hope amid the devastation until she finally came across locked cupboards, the only contents of which were a few bottles, expired medication and a few blankets. Maggie wasn't discouraged and took everything she could find. With a tenacity driven by her love for you, she returned to make use of what little she had found.
"Here, take this, sweetheart," she said, handing you a handful of expired medication. "It's not much, but it should at least bring down the fever a little." You smiled weakly and accepted the pills gratefully, barely getting into a sitting position. "Thanks. I don't know how I would do this without you."
She waved it off as if it were obvious. "In these times, we need to stick together. No one should wander alone in the dark. Especially not you," she helped you take the pills and then spread an extra blanket over you. "You're like my little sister, y/n. If something happened to you- I would never be happy again."
Over the next few days, your bedroom became a kind of makeshift hospital room and she began to care for you with a mix of old survival instincts and an unwavering caring nature. Blankets and hot water bottles became weapons in her fight against the invisible threat that took over your body.
The wind howled around the corners and an icy storm raged outside as the brunette spent the next few days cooking soups that she laced with fever-reducing drugs. She woke up by your side nightly, placing wet towels on your hot forehead and whispering soothing words into the darkness while you slept. The nights were long and quiet, interrupted only by the patients' wheezing and the crackling of their movements.
The group watched as the woman, who otherwise seemed so stoic and aloof, cared for you tenderly and self-sacrificingly. The others, who otherwise only knew the harsh reality of everyday life, witnessed a love between strangers that became family and that was more precious than any resource in these times.
Time crawled by and the disease tried to tighten its ugly claws. But Maggie's care and love proved to be powerful weapons. You fought against the disease, strengthened by their tireless help and solidarity support.
You lay weak, but your eyes still sparkled with life. In the quiet moments between feverish bouts, you and Maggie found time to talk quietly. "You have to stay strong, y/n. The world may have fallen apart, but we can't let it break us," she spoke as she cooled your forehead.
You smiled weakly, your eyes glassy with tiredness. "You're like a mother to me, Mags. I really can't imagine what it would be like without you."
Maggie just sighed quietly. "You are my family. I can't imagine what it would be like without you either."
The days passed and the illness slowly faded away like the side after a storm. You struggled back to your feet, strengthened by her unwavering belief in survival. The post-apocalyptic world may have been one of destruction and loss, but in this small corner of reality, humanity shone in its purest form, igniting a flame of hope for every survivor who walked the streets of Alexandria.
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archivistofmusic · 6 months ago
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Another ooc post (I promise I'll get back to writing soon haha).
Would anyone be interested in an rp blog that instead of following this Institute would follow The Archivist? It would be less focused on the writing and more roleplay focused (kind of similar to English Willy if you've ever seen those posts but without the art). For the universe I was kind of thinking same universe as TMA (fears, The Magnus Institute, the existence of the same characters), but the events of MAG 160 and beyond have not happened. I though it would be a way that I could continue creating content and lore for this blog and Institute without burning out quite as much haha. I just think it would be a fun way to both create more lore for this Institute, The Archivist of this Institute, and a way for people who like this blog to be able to interact with the universe in more ways than just sending in song requests.
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monsterfuckerconfessions · 6 months ago
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Inspired by Ben 10 alienfucking anon, but I gotta agree with the basic idea of looking back on childhood favorites and just saying
"...Ooooohhhh...Cool."
I have a lot of similar personal cases.
Some standard ones like Frankie Foster making a generation super horny for tight black dresses and chokers, or Saria giving Zelda fans some hesvy love for the childhood friend thing. The one that sticks out in my head from the same game really hard though...
Zora Princess Ruto
She did some shit to my dumb baby brain that maybe wouldn't be seen on that scale again until Undyne came along and awakened some fish dicks.
I was either 8, 9, or 10 when I played Ocarina of Time. I got on the N64 hypetrain late since I got the SNES console gaming introduction after the later rounder redesign model was out.
Had some fun starts from some classics. Donkey Kong Country 2, Kirby Super Star, Super Mario World/Kart, the usual cool shit.
But later on, when my mom's boyfriend at the time was cool about showing me some SNES and N64 gaming (He ended up being a cheating alcoholic asshole, but I didn't know that yet, so I just took him at face value here)
He'd entertain my silly gawking and plot questions while he played and ended up lending some cool ones he never came back for (which I can't help but spitefully laugh at now) and they were all pretty fun, but obvious hood classic "The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past" was particularly great and led to some Discoveries(tm) later with Ocarina of Time.
I was super hyped about getting an N64 even if a year or two late to the party. Got some staples of the time that came with it of course. The obligatory classic games, Super Mario 64, Smash Bros., and obviously OoT, some bulky unwieldy third party controllers, some slightly better than the official monstrosity, some worse, and somehow most importantly here, Nintendo Power or Game Informer or whatever paper stuff that had strategy guides with cool pictures and stuff.
Prefacing a bit here: I was a single mom's baby, my dad walked out when my sister was 3 and I was like 0.4, so our house didn't have the dad porn stash to find. There was other stuff, some Victoria's Secret ads, my kinda hot single fifth grade teacher who seemed so weirdly fixated on gushing about how cute I was that it brings up some uncomfortable implications I can't confirm now, but also basic shit like strategy guides, gaming mags, and manuals with neat illustrations.
And somehow with all that, the last option just struck first with sifting through to find tits out post-timeskip fishwife Ruto, and at that point I really couldn't not fuck around and/or find out.
So I felt some things, started the playthrough and got up to Jabu-Jabu's Belly. And hoo boy, I was sexually curious already, but her actual in-game personality just DID things to me.
The tsundere shtick got a little worn out later, but the bitchy spiteful attitude to marriage promise 180 pipeline, the love for blue colored characters that could fill a Bible thick DSM, and her overall character arc just ruined me as a person in a way I find really hot.
Yes, I was into the kid version at the time too, but I was basically the same age as her in-game, don't overthink it.
So if the childhood marriage promise thing hadn't hit hard enough, the Water Temple hit so much harder by the end.
Adult Ruto tits out fish lady fucking hotwired my dormant libido and drove that shit 0 to 150 mph into the sunset. After the infamously confusing dungeon crawl and the disappointingly easy Morpha fight, that sealed it in the Sacred Realm jail hard for me, and unlike Ganon breaking out easy peasy like a Batman villain, I was not going anywhere.
Soon as I figured some stuff out playing in the shower and making up for spacing out in early proto-sex ed talks, it was just gonna happen.
I grabbed the nearest Nintendo Power or manual etc in one hand, my dick in the other and went to town, left for Zora's Domain, and never really left from there, cause I just started jackhammering my dick til it got sore and came whatever buckets I had at the time staring at Big Blue Titty Fish.
Everyone who played it knew the drill and had their personal favorites in the Link brothel. Zelda, Shiek, Saria, Malon (more potent after the older Majora's Mask counterpart), the Cucco lady (same deal with Anju), Darunia for the gay bar crowd probably, Impa, Nabooru, and my obvs by now favorite:
Ruto.
And for a lot of shortcomings and gripes I had with Majora's Mask, I didn't actually mind her getting clothed. I missed the titty out look for a little, but the dress was cute, the Zora band gang was particularly cool and interesting to me, and even though the Great Bay Temple doubled down on the Water Temple's problems, I still enjoyed the third Mask hunt pretty well and thought the band idea was really awesome and probably low-key inspired some of my interests in making music later.
And dressed or not, the fish wife love held really strong.
Saria gave people some weird feelings about The Friend Zone, Cremia gave people some extra love for titty hug motorboats, and Ruto cemented my love of blue girls and fish girls of any cup size, and she all-around gave me some lasting complexes for years to come.
Not for everyone, but my older sister used to watch me play Majora's Mask and comment on how horny she got about Zora mask Link, so it might just be for more people than I thought.
Undyne has some strong dom lesbian appeal that fed some stuff I already had brewing about strong ladies by the time Undertale hit, but for me, the bitchy to lovingly clingy fish wife will hold a special place as my first true furry/scaly/monsterfucking-adjacent experience.
Undyne could suplex me into dust and I'd still be really into that, but Ruto was THE og Blue-coded fictional crush that defined a lot of weird boners for me that can still be felt over half-mast today. (Don't ever ask me about my thoughts on Ranni the Witch, that question is turning the safety off a loaded gun and deepthroating it) (I love her and it's positive, I'm just exaggerating to say how annoying I will inevitably get about it)
Anyway, point is I fucking love clingy fish tsundere and if there was a canon choice for everyone's dumb elf-eared heart, for my heart's canon, that was her.
That was Ruto <3
.
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meownotgood · 2 months ago
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hi mags! big big fan of your work 🥹 i just wanted to ask a lil about how you went about starting to write fanfic n self ship stuff? i’ve been wanting to for a while now but the thought of actually posting it out of nowhere seems pretty daunting to me 😭
dearest anon... I understand how you feel...... but listen... the very first time you start posting fics and silly stuff, you'll probably feel nervous at first, but then it's super fun and freeing... when I first started posting fanfic, it was one of the most fun and happy times in my whole life. once I got over that initial fear of what people would think, and realized I could just be myself, I truly enjoyed every aspect of my silly postings. and I'll always look at that time fondly, even if my writing has improved since then!
we all have to start somewhere!! just do what you love, it's such a nice feeling. and I promise soon you won't be alone, you'll find others who love the same things..........
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scripts4dreamers · 2 years ago
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Not Your Hero. Chapter 6
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CHAPTER SIX
Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three, Chapter four, Chapter five
AN: Whaaaaaaat? A chapter of a WIP? From me? Insanity
Characters: Finnick Odair, Coriolanus Snow, Mags Flanagan, James Karakus, Annie Cresta
Pairings: Finnick x reader
Spoiler(s): None
Warning(s): Mentions of blood, death, murder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, psychological manipulation, intimidation 
Prompt/Inspiration: House in Nebraska - Ethel Cain
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While the games are on, no one ever really leaves the viewing room. Finnick knew that, all the mentors did, but for you this was a whole new experience. He watched you pace like a caged animal, stress eat from the neverending flow of food brought in by avoxes, and talk with James in a low voice whenever something happened. He knew for a fact that you didn’t sleep at all. Some of the others did, he did, but you just sat on the couch every night with your knees pulled up under your chin, staring at the screen.
Because of that, you watched Adam Donaldson die in real time on the second night. Finnick had stayed up with you, sitting in a shared and quiet vigil because, if he was honest, he’d seen it coming. Maybe you’d seen it too, because the first tear had slipped down your cheek before the careers had even noticed the smoke from Adam’s small campfire and made the connection. Finnick wished he could say it had been quick and painless, an arrow to the heart, a snapped neck. It wasn’t. It had been a slow day and Finnick knew better than anyone how those kids were trained, first and foremost, to entertain. He tried not to watch Annie, tried not to watch you watching Annie, reminded himself not to tell you that Annie was a good girl, really, that she was just doing as she was told. Compassion would come later, he promised himself, for now you were living one of the worst moments in a mentor’s life. You wouldn’t appreciate a spirited defense of your tribute’s killer.
It took the careers three full hours to finally put Adam Donaldson out of his misery, and you didn’t make a sound the entire time. You didn’t shift or move or eat. You barely blinked. Adam screamed and bled and died, and Finnick watched you bear it, adding another lost life to the list of sins you could never really really be forgiven for. A few mentors tried to stop by and comfort you but you brushed them off or snapped for them to leave you alone, like an animal in a trap. Finnick was the only person who was spared your annoyance so he held your hand and didn’t let go. He didn’t try and tell you that it wasn’t your fault, he knew you wouldn’t have listened. Instead, he just promised that it would be over soon. Just hang on, he whispered again and again, just hold on for a little longer and then it’ll be over. If nothing else, it would be over.
When the dust settled and the remaining body fragments had been collected, Finnick had watched something in you deflate and his heart pinched. He knew that moment, the pain, the guilt, the relief. You’d made it through. You’d gritted your teeth and made it through.
“First one’s the hardest,” Haymitch had slurred, shocking Finnick, who hadn’t thought Haymitch had even noticed what was happening, “Gets easier,” he shrugged, “or so they keep telling me.”
You gave him a look, as though you were weighing up the benefits of biting his head off, but eventually you just nodded, “Thanks, Haymitch.”
“Don’t thank me,” he replied, “I didn’t say it gets bearable.”
Finnick felt a rush of protectiveness sweep over him, but he forced himself to just stay at your side until you assured him that you would be alright, and then he allowed himself a rest. You returned to your pattern. You watched the male tribute from Four get beheaded by a rival a few days later, watched Serena slip away into the darkness, clutching a bleeding shoulder that wouldn’t heal, watched Annie’s psyche start to crack as she isolated herself and cradled the air, imagining it was her partner’s bloody body. And you told it all to Finnick each morning in a dull, monotone voice, the bags under your eyes getting darker and darker with each passing day. He wanted to help. He wished that there was something he could say or do to help you deal with the grief, but he couldn’t. He had to focus, to keep his eye on the end point and, right now, he had other things on his mind.
Annie was AWOL.
Losing Ajack had broken something inside of her. You’d told him the whole story; about how he’d gotten into an argument with the boy from District one, how they’d pushed and shoved at one another until the boy from one had picked up an ax and ended it, hacking at Ajack’s neck while his partner held Annie back. Apparently she’d screamed at the boy to stop, begged him even, and after Ajack’s head had been completely severed, she’d held his body for so long that the hovercraft hadn’t been able to collect it until the early hours of the morning. After that, she’d vanished, disappearing into the bush without any supplies. Whenever the camera found her now, she was muttering to herself, or fiddling with her fingers, or staring out into space like she wasn’t there anymore.
Finnick had never felt more helpless. He’d chewed his nails down to the beds, and used every tool of persuasion in his arsenal to keep sponsors from pulling out. He supplied Annie with food and water, with sleeping gear and climbing supplies. None of it had helped. Now, as he clung to the very edges of his sanity and wracked his brain, he had to admit: he was out of tricks. There was nothing else he could do. The sponsors had pulled out in favor of the pair from district one; Annie had no weapons and, even if she did, she was in no fit state to use them and, worst of all, it had been nearly two days since the last gruesome death. That usually meant one thing; the crowd would be getting antsy and the gamemakers would be planning something awful. He watched Annie’s lifeless body on the screen as she twitched and muttered in her sleep, his heart twisting into painful knots.
“Finnick!” Annie screeched, giggling as she scrambled up the rocks and away from his attacks, “Stop! I don’t want to get wet.”
“Why?” he laughed, pushing up off the ocean floor and letting himself float on his back.
The cool water lapped against his temples, filling his ears and cradling his body in its strong, reliable arms. He loved the water, lived for it. There was nowhere that he felt more at home, or more like himself than when he could taste saltwater on his lips and feel sand on his skin. His stomach churned with anxiety and a mixture of fear and anticipation, but he breathed in deep, filling his lungs with bright sunlight and the smell of warm ocean rocks and let the rocking of the waves soothe him.
Annie was perched on the rocks like a seabird, her long dark hair swirling and tangling in the wind as she watched him swim, a kind of quiet longing in her eyes. Not for Finnick himself of course, but for his comfort, for his ease in the ocean. Annie was terrified of the sea, she always had been. She was a strong swimmer, as all the kids in district four were, but she’d never trusted it, never truly believed that it could carry her and support her weight. She always felt, privately, in the back of her mind, that it was just waiting to drag her under, to a dark watery grave. Finnick opened one eye and gave her, what he hoped was, a confident smile.
“Like what you see, Cresta?” he joked
She scoffed, a delicate blush coloring her cheeks, “You wish.” she paused, worrying at the inside of her cheek, “How are you never nervous? It’s reaping day, and you haven’t even broken a sweat.”
Finnick pushed forward, tipping into a steady tread, and shrugged, “Nothing to be nervous about. We’re fourteen, Annie, it’s not going to be us.”
“It might be,” she argued, “York said that none of the older kids are volunteering this year.”
“Why wouldn’t they be?”
Annie shrugged, “They just aren’t.”
“But they have to.” He insisted, “That’s the rules.”
“We haven’t won in years,” Annie reminded him, “I think they’re just sick of volunteering to die.”
Finnick pressed his lips together, feeling the cold hand of dread creeping into his chest again. No volunteers? That was unheard of. What would happen now? A normal reaping? Could anyone be picked now? Could he be picked? He met Annie’s eye and saw his own terror reflected there in vibrant sea green.
“It won’t be us, Annie,” he assured her, hoping that he sounded more confident than he was, “I promise you, it won’t be us.”
Finnick’s eyes started to sting and he swore softly under his breath, burying his head in his hands and carding his fingers through his hair. It felt like his heart was shattering piece by piece and dragging him down into the depths along with it. Out of the corner of his eye Finnick saw a familiar shadow and, despite everything, some of the tension in his shoulders relaxed. You collapsed onto the couch beside him, reaching out and resting a hand on his back comfortingly. God, he hated how good that felt. He hated how he longed to lean into your touch, to bury his head in the crook of your neck and weep like the broken boy he was. I’m just a kid! He wanted to scream, I can’t do this! I can’t do this anymore!
“I know, Fin,” you whispered, as though you could read his mind, “you’re doing so well.”
A tear slipped down his cheek and he shook his head frantically, “Annie’s screwed. The sponsor’s are gone, she’s barely eating. There’s nothing I can do to save her.”
You were quiet for a moment, “There’s never anything we can do, really. It’s always just a big gamble.”
“I know but-”
“And you aren’t out of sponsors. I spoke to my guys and they’re going to back Annie since-” You pressed your lips together, “since Adam’s gone and Serena-well-she’s not going to be able to hold on much longer.”
Finnick’s head shot up, a mixture of relief and incredulousness filling him so suddenly that he wasn’t even sure he’d heard you right.
“What? Y/N, no-I can’t accept that.”
You shrugged, a hint of a sad smile at the corner of your mouth, “Good thing you don’t have a say then. Take the help, Finnick. If not for you, then for Annie. She needs you on top of your game right now.”
He remembered the way Adam had called for his mother, how you’d flinched as each slow, deliberate cut had chipped away at the person he’d been until there was only a bloody corpse. Annie had been a part of that but, looking at you now, it didn’t seem to matter.
He shook his head again, the momentary relief being swallowed up again by hopelessness, “She can’t win. She can’t even seem to walk in a straight line right now.”
For a long moment you just watched the screen together, two victors acting in perfect synchronicity. You watched the pair from district one slice through the underbrush like demigods, looking powerful and determined and painfully self-assured. Smart money was on them, anyone could see that. They had everything on their side; all the training, all the sponsors, all the gear and, most dangerously, that deadly team mentality that would keep them together until it stopped serving them. Finnick knew how powerful that bond could be, it had kept him alive more than once during his games and his every instinct told him it would get this pair through it too. However, as useful as weapons, sponsors, food and allies were, you’d had none of that. You’d been alone from the moment you were reaped. You had no skills, no real buzz, no friends. No one had given you more than half a look in the Capitol, and you’d come out on top anyway. The thought gave Finnick hope. Maybe Annie wasn’t completely screwed. Maybe, with you by his side, Finnick could still find a way to bring her home.
---------------------------------
No one had really believed Annie Cresta had a shot. Not James, not Chaff, not Brutus, not Seeder, not even Mags really. When Ajack had died, every reliable metric in the book had said that district four’s hopes of having a winner on their hands had died with him. But every reliable metric in the book had also had you pegged as an early death, so you said fuck the metrics, and believed in her anyway. The more you felt Finnick give up, the harder you believed. The more other mentors started to gently suggest that you let her go and move on, the more vehemently you insisted that she wasn’t out of the game yet and redoubled your efforts. At some point over the past few days, possibly when she’d gone against her team and given Adam the death he’d long since earned, Annie Cresta had started to mean something to you.
She was every discounted tribute, every long shot who got written off and left to die. She was you, and she was the tributes you’d already failed to save and, maybe, if you could find a way to bring her home, you would be able to live with yourself for letting Adam and Serena die. Serena’s arm was infected now, badly. Experts said she had maybe three days of agony in front of her and there was nothing you could do to save her. But Annie was healthy. Some part of her mind had gotten her to eat and drink, she wasn’t physically injured, and a lifetime of having enough to eat gave her stamina.
She could win, and she would, you told yourself again and again. She had to.
You told Finnick too, and when you did some of his old sparkle would threaten to rear its head and he would almost smile. Almost. It never lasted. He slipped in and out, between resigned, grieving and unimaginably tense. Sometimes, you had the sneaking suspicion that your hand between his shoulder blades was all that was keeping him anchored to this reality. So you kept it there, and you fed him bits of biscuits and sandwiches, got him to drink water, shower and sleep, and you wondered how long he would last, and what would be left of him if Annie didn’t make it out.
Selfishly, unforgivably, a part of you wondered if he was in love with her. You would never ask, of course. It wasn’t your business, it wasn’t the right time, but you couldn’t stop the wondering. Was Annie the one who Finnick lay in bed pining for? Was she the woman he daydreamed about and had planned a future with? Did it bother you if she was? Always, it came back to the same single fact; it didn’t matter. You wanted Finnick to be happy, and you needed Annie to come home. That was that.
Some days you were so close to the edge that it was only the memory of Finnick’s voice in your head that kept you from crumbling.
Just hold on, he’d whispered, you’re so strong, you can do this, it’ll all be over soon. It was like a mantra now, more than a prayer, a promise that this too would pass. There would be time to fall apart, time to grieve, just not yet. First you had to get through, and get Annie through.
You spent your 17th birthday throwing a massive party for potential sponsors. It was the event of the season, the magazines exclaimed, absolutely anyone who was anyone was invited. Finnick and Mags weren’t there, a few noted, but that was to be expected this far into the games. Your prep team hid the signs of exhaustion under layers of makeup and pressed fake finger nails over your chewed ones. Your stylist pulled you into a tight, revealing outfit that, months ago, you would have been too self conscious to wear out, strapped you into some heels and you were ready. The music was loud, the press was there and the party lasted all night. You let the tv crews interview you, you gushed about the Capitol, choking down disgust. You danced with those victors who had come in support of you, and you flirted and teased your way to raising enough money to buy Annie some iodine for her drinking water.
Back at the control center, after you had scrubbed off the remnants of the powders and creams and sickly sweet perfumes and slipped into something more comfortable, Chaff brought you a cake shaped like a lightning bolt. James took responsibility for all the presents the other victors, and your various admirers, had lavished you with. You and Finnick ate pieces of cake together on the couch, sighing with relief as Annie successfully treated her water and took her first long drink in two days. You didn’t think about your last birthday.
After Chaff and James had led everyone in a genuinely enthusiastic bout of “Happy Birthday”, Finnick nudged you with his arm, tearing your attention away from the screens, where the pair from one were hot on the trail of the boy from nine.
“Happy birthday, Y/N/N,” he said softly, his deep green eyes sparkling with something so sweet it made your teeth ache, “I-”
“You don’t have to say anything,” you interrupted feeling, with certainty, that he was going to apologize for not being with you in the sponsor pit, “there’s more important things right now.”
Finnick smiled with a fondness that had you feeling uncomfortably found out, and he strung an arm around you loosely, turning both of your bodies so you were facing each other. It was the first time you’d seen him look fully away from the screens and monitors in days.
“I was going to say that I’m…I’m glad we met,” he explained, “and that I hope, for your next birthday, we can do something a little less morbid.”
You pressed your lips together, feeling oddly touched, and tried not to think about how, for that to happen, both of your tributes next year would have to be dead.
“Thanks, Finn,” you said instead, “I’m glad we met too.”
He took your hand and kissed your knuckles gently, sending a tingle of electricity through your entire body as he pressed a small gift into your palm.
“For later,” he explained, as you examined the parcel.
You nodded in understanding, slipped the parcel into your bag and, again acting with the perfect synchronicity of two people with identical goals, you both turned back to your monitors to watch for signs of trouble.
Two weeks into the games, after everyone had written her off, you knew Annie had won. It happened quickly, a few days of rain, some flooding and a crack. The dam seemed as though it fell in slow motion and, in mere moments, all the perfectly laid plans Cashmere and Gloss had been working on all season fell to ruin. Serena barely stirred as the wave crashed down on her, by all accounts she died in her sleep and you counted it as a mercy.
The gamemakers slowed the wave, so it didn’t flatten the competition entirely but, by nightfall, even those who could swim were starting to struggle. The beautiful arena was now entirely flooded and Annie was swimming. Not paddling around, not hanging on for dear life. Instead, for the first time since Ajack’s death, she was virtually coming to life. She gilded through the water like a sea otter, evading the other tributes with ease and finding safe areas to rest away from the dangerous currents and undertow.
“She’s going to make it,” Finnick said incredulously, “Oh my god, Y/N, she’s going to make it.”
You nodded, “Hell yeah she is.”
A few stragglers held on for a while but, after another two days, Annie Cresta was airlifted out of the drowned arena, the official victor of the 70th Hunger Games. When the final canon sounded you couldn’t contain the sound of relief and excitement that slipped past your lips, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. It was like watching a dream play out in real life. When you looked at the screen you saw yourself, felt the momentary rush of terror followed by pure ecstasy as you realised that the impossible had happened: you had won, you were going home.
She had won. She was coming home.
If you were happy, Finnick was joy personified. He leapt to his feet and cheered, laughing with the unrestrained incredulousness of someone who had been well and truly hopeless for ages. You smiled up at him as he watched the screen hungrily seeing, for a moment, his youth written on his body like a sign. It was easy to forget sometimes that he was only eighteen. It was easy to forget that you yourself were only technically an adult with how old and world weary you already felt. You tore your eyes away from Finnick and let them fall on Mags who was weeping silently, a wrinkled hand pressed to the base of her throat as she smiled. She caught your eye and extended her free hand for you to take. You gave it a squeeze and you hoped she could feel your sincerity, how truly happy for district four you were. A year after you had personally ripped their chances away, they were bringing home a win. It felt almost fair.
“I didn’t think I would see another win,” she explained to you softly, “not in my lifetime. I didn’t think I would get to bring another one home.”
“But you did,” you said, looking back at Finnick, “you did it.”
Mags shook her head, giving your hand another squeeze, “You did it, the both of you. Finnick is a wonderful mentor, but even he couldn’t have gotten any more help to her without your sponsors. I won’t forget that.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I won’t forget that,” she repeated, “and I’ll make sure he never does either.” she finished, gesturing at Finnick with her head.
At that exact moment Finnick seemed to remember your existence and he turned back, sweeping you up into his arms and spinning you around like a carousel.
“We did it!” He laughed, “We did it, Y/N, we did it!”
“We did,” you agreed, laughing fondly as you detangled yourself.
For the briefest moment when you broke the contact Finnick seemed crestfallen, but it was over so quickly, swallowed up by his happiness, that you almost thought you must have imagined it. He pulled Mags into a similar embrace, whispering something to her too low for anyone but Mags to hear before looking back at you.
“You and me, Y/N/N, we fucking did it!”
You heard Adam’s voice in your head, saw him strain at the restraints on his wrists as he was tortured and jeered at. His sister had watched that. Sweet, kind Genna, who laughed a little too loudly and never quite knew when to stop being friendly, had watched her older brother get systematically and clinically taken apart and she would probably never be herself again now. Serena had been just kid, she hadn’t even started high school yet. She died after days of agony, with a raging fever. Her father had wept when she was reaped. They had been yours, and you’d been less than useless to them. Suddenly you were so tired, so drained. How many days had it been since you slept? The fragile pieces of you were cracking under the strain. James caught your eye, the corners of his mouth tense with suppressed grief. You don’t know what you were looking for really. Not comfort, not saving, maybe an acknowledgement? The shared recognition that something had happened, something had been lost here.
“You lot better get ready,” James said to Finnick and Mags, coming to your rescue, the way he was wont to do, “Annie is going to need you both. You don’t want her to be alone when she wakes up.”
Finnick looked like he wanted to argue, but a brief word from Mags seemed to remind him where he was. He shot you and your mentor an apologetic look, but you could still see the shimmering, bubbling excitement just under the surface, ready to burst forward at any second.
“Thank you,” he said seriously, “both of you. Just-” he breathed, letting out a burst of relieved laughter, “thank you so much.”
You felt James’ hand on your shoulder, a rough but familiar anchor to reality and you gave Finnick a genuine smile. Just a little longer, you heard him whisper in your mind, just keep it together for a little longer.
“Of course,” James said, speaking for you both, “it’s the least we could do.”
That was a lie, but you all knew it, so it couldn’t hurt anyone.
“I’m so happy for you,” you said, “truly.”
Some of Finnick’s franticness seemed to seep out of him into something softer and fonder and you watched, in real time, as he remembered where you were, what you’d lost, what you’d been through.
“Y/N-” he started, moving as though to step toward you.
Your eyes were pricking now, the suppressed panic and rage rearing its head so powerfully that you were almost frightened of yourself. James tightened his grip on your shoulder and, in one fluid motion, moved subtly between you and Finnick, angling his body in such a way as to not be obvious but still clearly making himself a barrier. Finnick recoiled, a flash of hurt crossing his perfectly sculpted face. You wanted to assure him, your instinct was to reach out and promise that you were fine, that he’d done nothing wrong, that of course you wanted to stay and be with him and Mags, but you were just so fragile. James felt like a lifeline, like your protector, swooping in and delivering you from the private hell you’d been living in and, if you were honest, there was nothing you wanted more than to fall apart in private.
Mags tracked the interaction with her eyes, tugging Finnick’s arm gently as he stared James down.
“Come, boy,” she said soothingly, “Annie will be waiting.”
Finnick gave you one last deeply apologetic look, and then nodded, letting Mags pull him away. James didn’t move. He stayed where he was, waiting until every last mentor, even drunk old Haymitch Abernathy, had slipped out of the control center before he stepped forward and crouched down in front of you.
His face was creased with concern, his dark eyes filled with the deep understanding that only someone who had personally put you back together more than once could ever have, and you absolutely shattered. In moments you had collapsed into a fit of broken sobbing, keening like a wounded animal as weeks of pent up anxiety and fear rushed out at once. To his credit, James didn’t try to calm you down, he just let you cry. He’d always been wonderful at knowing what you needed, how to get you through the pain without smothering you or talking down to you. Even before you were a victor. Even when you were just a scared fifteen year old girl who’d been handed a death sentence.
It felt like you stayed there for an eon, working through every last drop of resentment and disappointment in yourself until there was nothing left but a sort of deep, throbbing ache.
“I am happy for them,” you eventually said, voice shaky through your tears, “r-really I a-am.”
“I know,” James assured you kindly, “I know, but you can be happy for them and furious for us at the same time. I know they were when you won last year.”
You nodded, feeling the first slivers of solid ground beneath your feet again as you wiped your face and took deep, steadying breaths.
“Did you cheer and twirl people around too?” you asked, trying for a joking tone and almost succeeding.
“Oh yeah,” he answered, “you bet I did. I was fist pumping the air and shouting like a maniac, I thought Finnick was going to swing on me. I think I threw a chair.”
“What?” you laughed incredulously, “You did not.”
“I’m pretty sure I did,” James insisted, “Y/N/N I was so proud of you. I cried like a baby for days.”
You sniffed and wiped your eyes again, welcoming the change of topic, “You did?”
He nodded, giving you another fond look and giving your shoulder a squeeze, “You were amazing, you did everything right, made good on every opportunity. I did my job, I set things up but you just…” he shook his head, whistling, “you just ran with it. I’ve been doing this for twenty-three years and I’ve never seen anyone come close to the upset you pulled off.”
You felt something that could have been pride, a stubborn urge to take some pleasure in your win, before the sadness won out again and your lip began to tremble.
“Fat lot of good it did them,” you said, “fat lot of good I did them.”
James sighed, “That’s what I’m trying to say here, there’s nothing you could have done. You made it out because you played smart, you fought hard, you kept your wits about you and you clawed your way to the top, not because I did something to get you out.”
“I had sponsors.”
“Not at first,” James admitted, “not enough, not nearly enough. You convinced more people to put their money behind Adam from the start than I’d managed to rustle up for you. At the end of the day the money means jack shit, there’s only so much we can do.”
“I told them to shift their pledge to Annie,” you whispered, Serena’s shaking body flashing behind your eyes like snippets of film, “I could have poured more into Serena. I told them not to, I told them to sign with Finnick and-”
“And Annie won.” he reminded you kindly, “Those rich idiots will blame you for their massive payouts and they’ll trust you implicitly now. How many more kids will you be able to help with their money in the coming years, hmm? The handful of die hard rich people we still had available to us couldn’t have raised the funds to save Serena from that infection, Ash, you know that.”
“I could’ve done something! I could’ve-”
He shook his head, “No, you couldn’t have. Listen, whatever you think you could’ve done, I’ve tried it. I’ve tortured myself with what-ifs for longer than you’ve been alive, they never work. Trust me, you did everything right.”
You tried your hardest to listen, to really take in what James was saying like he was offering you a balm for your aching heart, but the pain just sat there in your chest, stubbornly refusing to dull.
You felt your eyes start to prick again and you longed for home, for your mother’s embrace and the safety of your room.
“Then why does it hurt so much?” You cried, collapsing into James’ chest again as you devolved into a fresh bout of sobs.
James doesn’t have an answer for that, so he just held you close and tried to be as comforting as he possibly could be. James’ feelings for you were….surprising, to him at least. When he’d turned thirty-nine he’d joked to Ivette that the only thing he wanted for his fortieth was to make one return journey to the district with a living person. Just one, he’d laughed with an edge of franticness, he wasn’t asking for the plethora of success stories the mentors from some of the other districts had, he just wanted one.
It had been a joke, mostly, but here you were. When he’d first met you on the train after the reaping, there’d been a sort of ache in the back of his teeth, like the ghosts of the countless hours spent biting down on his jaw were finally coming back to haunt him. You were so young, he remembers thinking, not yet sixteen and already doomed to die. Only…there was something about you, something in your eyes that felt like defiance. It felt like anger, like the will to live. James had looked at you on the train and had seen himself, but even that hadn’t been enough to override his deep dread. He’d lost too many to have any real hope for your survival. At most, he hoped you would die quickly, and without suffering.
He still did his job, of course. He smiled, he made contacts with possible sponsors, liaised with stylists and publicists, he gave you advice on how to play smart, and he mapped out a place along his spine to tattoo your name, alongside the nearly forty others he carried with him, when you died. Unfortunately, as the big day came closer, James had gotten sort of fond of you. You were funny and smart, and you had a sharp tongue that made him laugh incessantly, but that also spoke to how personable you could be. Your interview had been a smash hit. You had an instinctual knack for grabbing an audience’s attention and holding it. For the first time in decades, James had felt something resembling hope, but he crushed it down. He reminded himself that there was only so much he could do, that personability wasn’t enough. He’d settled down and re-resigned himself to watching you die and delivering you home in a box.
The games started and when you made it through the first day, and the second, and the third, that damn spark of hope had come back in full force. It was small, he tried to temper it but when, on the fourth day, you’d managed to literally tear your way out of a net with a combination of your hands and teeth, and had successfully rewired the trap to spring up and capture your original capturer, he’d known that you could win. James had never worked the sponsor circuit that hard. He barely slept, he did anything and everything he could to get you whatever you needed; medicine for your bloody hands, food, some wire and, eventually, a current generator. He’d poured twenty-two years of dashed hopes and dreams into you, broken every carefully cultivated rule he’d ever set for himself about not getting attached and, when Claudius Templesmith announced that you were the winner of the sixty-ninth annual Hunger Games, he had wept like a baby and cheered until his voice was hoarse. Just two months shy of his fortieth birthday, James had gotten to make his return journey with you by his side, broken, battered and scarred, but alive.
Afterwards, James couldn’t quite shake his feelings of responsibility for you. He was still your mentor and you were still his tribute, and now the game he was determined to get you through was just life, the After of it all. He had never been able to bring himself to find a nice man and settle down or to have some kids of his own, but if he had, he imagined he might feel about them the way he felt about you. So this, sitting with you in his arms while you fell to pieces…well, it hurt pretty damn bad.
“Y/N/N,” he said gently, when your body had stopped heaving and your violent sobs had softened and faded, “let’s get you home, yeah?”
You nodded, wiping your eyes with the heel of your palm, and James couldn’t help but see your youth. You were a couple of days past 17, practically a baby in his eyes, and already the kind of tired that most adults don’t get until their mid-forties. You knew too much, you’d seen too many horrors and carried too much grief to ever be carefree, the way a 17 year-old should be and, for the millionth time, James felt the rush of pure, black rage bubble up in his stomach. He would tear the Capitol down for this, he promised himself. Not today. Not now, when Snow could take revenge for anything James did out on you and Ivette, but someday. Someday he would find a spark and he’d do what he did best, what had gotten him in that victor’s chair in the first place; he’d stoke it into a blaze, an inferno that would burn out the infection of the Hunger Games for good.
You let your mentor pull you up and walk you back to your apartments, now empty of tributes, and you clung to him like a child, wondering why you could so easily let yourself be held by him, but not by your own parents. Some small part of you wondered if this is how it started, if all those lonely victors you’d met, who had no one but each other, had once had family and friends who they couldn’t bear to be around anymore because they reminded them too much of a version of themselves that was long dead. It felt different, you noticed, as you and James sat down for dinner at an empty table. Not bad, just different, knowing that, on every floor but one, someone like you, with more scars than they deserved, was sitting down to dinner in an equally vacant apartment. Everyone had failed except Mags and Finnick. It should have felt depressing and morbid, and it was, but it was also a kind of solidarity. You weren’t suffering alone. The Capitol had done this to all of you, together and, in a way, that meant none of you were alone. Maybe this was your new home, maybe this was what you got now.
You waited until you were alone in your room to open Finnick’s present. It was small, about the size of a plum, wrapped in soft blue paper and twine. It looked too rustic for the Capitol, you noted with a sudden rush of warmth, as though he’d brought it from home just for you. Slowly, being careful not to tear the wrapping paper, you peeled it open, revealing a beautiful spiral shell, cleaned and polished, and woven bracelet. It was a combination of brown leather, blue chord and flat pearls braided together carefully, with practice and skill. Finnick and Mags both wore similar bracelets, you’d seen them weaving them aimlessly whenever they got stressed, but this was different. This one had been made for you. It wasn’t flashy, or polished, but it fit your wrist perfectly and you knew that, if it was your choice, you’d wear it forever. Slowly, you pushed yourself up and made your way over to the phone, dialing the extension for the floor below you.
“Y/N,” Finnick said, without hesitation, on the third ring, “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I was so tactless, I-”
“What would you have done if I was James?” You interrupted, smiling despite yourself, “I could have been James, you know?”
Finnick paused and then laughed, his voice tinged with barely suppressed exhaustion, “But you’re not James, are you? You’re my-” he corrected himself, “you’re Y/N/N. Mags made me promise to give you some space, but I knew you’d call.”
You hummed in agreement, worrying at the inside of your cheek as the silence stretched, warm and comfortable, “How is she?” you eventually asked.
“Annie?” Finnick asked, “she’s…she’s alive. That’s all that matters.” he continued with a deep sigh, “Her mind is fragile right now, I’m not sure she understands what’s happened exactly, but…yeah.”
“It’s early days, Finn,” you replied instinctively, “you remember what it was like at the start. I’m sure you were a little fragile too. She’s been out of the arena for less than 5 hours, give her time.”
“I knew where I was,Y/N,” he countered ruefully, “I knew it was over, I knew I’d won.”
You sighed, “Give her time,” you repeated, “she’ll come back to you when she’s ready.”
“The doctors say she had a psychotic break,” Finnick said, his voice small and vulnerable, “they say she might not ever…that she might always be…”
“She’s alive,” you interrupted, reminding him of his earlier words, “you’ve got the rest of your lives to figure out how to move forward from this, and yeah maybe she’ll always be a little fragile. That’s alright, we’ll take care of her when she needs us to.”
“We will?” Finnick asked hopefully.
“Of course we will,” you insisted, “you, me, Mags, Chaff, James, even Haymitch. We’re all here for you, and for her.”
“I’m sure Haymitch has some thoughts about that,” Finnick replied, jokingly.
You smiled, “Yeah well, he’ll have to take it up with me if he does.”
“Terrifying,” Finnick said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. Again, you sat in silence, just enjoying the sound of one another’s breathing, before Finnick continued, “ Did you open your present?”
You looked down at the bracelet, “Of course I did. Thank you, by the way, it’s beautiful.”
“Pretty bracelet for a pretty girl, what can I say? Just made sense,” Finnick joked, slipping into his old seductive persona, which pulled a breathless laugh from your chest. You could imagine the catlike grin on his face as he lounged against the wall, all faux grace and elegance, the picture of destructive beauty. “But really, you like it?” he asked in his regular voice.
“I love it,” you promised.
There was a pause on the line, and then Finnick let out a shaky breath. You could feel the exhaustion in your own body catching up to you again, the weeks of staying awake using expensive Capitol medication finally coming for their due.
“I-uh-I need some sleep,” you explained, “I’ll see you soon, Finn.”
“See you soon, kid,” he replied, “and thank you again for-”
“Stop thanking me,” you insisted, fondly, “and don’t call me kid.”
You hung up before you had a chance to change your mind and, as you lay down in your bed and drifted off to sleep, the ghosts of the veldt crept in, joined by two new faces; a tall, lanky boy with a sister who laughed too loud, and a young girl, clutching an infected shoulder, writhing with fever.
Finnick stared at the phone for a long time after you hung up, trying to parse his emotions in a way that made sense. His heart was a complete wreck, torn between grief and joy and hope and, fuck it, why hide it, love. Annie was alive, but broken. You were safe, but exhausted. He had his family, but he had secrets, and he’d never be able to stop towing the line without risking losing it all again.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered into the empty air, covering his mouth with his hand.
Beetee had assured him that he’d blocked the audio bugs in the apartments, but old habits die hard, and Finnick wasn’t taking any chances. Not with this. Not with you. He ached for the feeling of your hand between his shoulder blades, the comforting weight that had kept him grounded for weeks and that he’d grown to rely on without even noticing it. You had a strange way of worming your way into him like that, like a drug. One hit and he was hooked for months, chasing more time, chasing more closeness.
“Finnick, dinner’s ready!” Mags called from the dining room, “The doctor sent us updated reports on Annie.”
“Coming!” He responded, casting one last look at the telephone as he left, adjusting the band of woven leather, chord and pearls on his wrist.
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air-rising · 1 year ago
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Can you post the article??
Vriendin van Van de Donk eist dat Oranje wint voor haar 'Daan'
Girlfriend of Van de Donk demands that Orange win for her 'Daan'
[Ellie Carpenter en Daniëlle van de Donk leerden elkaar kennen bij Olympique Lyon, waar Damaris Egurrola ook onder contract staat.]
[Ellie Carpenter and Daniëlle van de Donk met at Olympique Lyon, where Damaris Egurrola is also under contract.]
Dat haar geliefde door een schorsing niet mag spelen in het kwartfinaleduel met Spanje, was ook een enorme teleurstelling voor Carpenter, volgens eigen zeggen de grootste fan van Van de Donk. „Ik heb geprobeerd haar een hart onder de riem te steken. Gelukkig krijgt ze veel steun van haar ploeggenoten en de staf, die haar het gevoel geven dat ze tot nu toe al heel veel heeft gedaan voor het team.”
The fact that her lover is not allowed to play in the quarterfinal due to a suspension with Spain was also a huge disappointment for Carpenter, according to his own words the biggest fan of Van de Donk. “I tried to support her. Fortunately, she gets a lot of support from her teammates and the staff, who make her feel like she has already done a lot for the team so far.”
Voor Carpenter is het een uitgemaakte zaak wie haar vriendin op het middenveld moet vervangen: Damaris Egurrola. „Zij kent Spanje van binnenuit, heeft met heel veel van die Spaanse meiden samengespeeld. Ik heb vertrouwen in dit Oranje en geniet van hun wedstrijden”, zegt de rechtsback van de Wallabies, die bij Olympique Lyon samenspeelt met Van de Donk en Egurrola.
For Carpenter, it is a foregone conclusion who should replace her friend in midfield: Damaris Egurrola. “She knows Spain from the inside out, has played with a lot of those Spanish girls. I have faith in this Orange and enjoy their matches,” says the Wallabies' right back, who plays alongside Van de Donk and Egurrola at Olympique Lyon.
Carpenter droomt van een WK-finale tegen Nederland. Dan gaat de beuk erin, belooft de verdedigster die op vijftienjarige leeftijd debuteerde voor het nationale team van Australië. „Mocht het zover komen, dan ga ik er vol voor. Zodra ik het veld oploop, is zij even niet meer mijn vriendin maar mijn tegenstander”, vertelde Carpenter na de 2-0 overwinning op Denemarken.Een eventuele eindstrijd tussen Australië en Nederland is sinds die zege weer een stapje dichterbij gekomen. Carpenter speelde voor ruim 75.000 toeschouwers in het uitverkochte olympisch stadion van Sydney. „De manier waarop we op het WK gesteund worden is fantastisch en heb ik nooit eerder meegemaakt. De mensen die in de nok van het stadion zaten kon ik niet eens zien. We weten amper wat we meemaken.”
Carpenter dreams of a World Cup final against the Netherlands. Then the beech goes in, promises the defender who debuted for Australia's national team at the age of fifteen. “Should it come to that, I'll go all out. As soon as I walk out on the field, she is no longer my girlfriend but my opponent,” Carpenter said after the 2-0 victory over Denmark. A possible final battle between Australia and the Netherlands has come one step closer since that victory. Carpenter played in front of over 75,000 spectators at Sydney's sold-out Olympic Stadium. “The way we are supported at the World Cup is fantastic and I have never experienced it before. I couldn't even see the people who were in the ridge of the stadium. We barely know what we're going through.”
Frankrijk (France)
Australië presteert met het bereiken van de laatst acht historisch goed, zegt Carpenter. „Ik ben trots dat we hier nog steeds staan, terwijl we werden gezien als underdogs. Voor elke wedstrijd is ons eerste doel het doel schoonhouden. De nul houden is voor ons belangrijker dan scoren. Dat is ons in drie van de vier wedstrijden gelukt.” Zaterdag spelen de ’Aussies’ in Brisbane tegen Frankrijk om een plek in de halve finale.
Australia is performing with reaching the last eight historical good, Carpenter says. “I am proud that we are still standing here, while we were seen as underdogs. For every match, our first goal is to keep the goal clean. Keeping the zero is more important to us than scoring. We succeeded in three of the four games.” On Saturday, the 'Aussies' will play in Brisbane against France for a spot in the semi-finals.
De vonk tussen Carpenter en Van de Donk sloeg over in Frankrijk, waar zij allebei bij Olympique Lyon spelen. Dat de 32-jarige Nederlandse nu eens aan Carpenters kant van de wereld is, vindt de Australische fijn. „Wij hebben hier ’down under’ zoveel te bieden.”
The spark between Carpenter and Van de Donk skipped in France, where they both play at Olympique Lyon. The Australian likes the fact that the 32-year-old Dutch is now on Carpenter's side of the world. 'We have so much to offer 'down under' here.'
Toekomstplannen (Future Plans)
Of dat ook betekent dat de twee uiteindelijk in Australië eindigen, durft Carpenter (23) niet te zeggen. „Mijn voetbalcarrière duurt logischerwijs nog langer dan die van Daniëlle. Ik kijk gewoon waar ik kan blijven voetballen en waar het ons naartoe brengt.”
Whether that also means that the two eventually end up in Australia, Carpenter (23) dares not say. “My football career logically lasts even longer than Daniëlle's. I'm just looking where I can keep playing football and where it takes us.”
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shizucheese · 8 months ago
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I finally did it. I decided to start posting one of my TMA fanfics! You can find it on AO3 here! I haven't decided yet if I'm going to also post the whole thing here on Tumblr or just post the prolog here and then just announce when I update here with chapter excerpts and a link to AO3 going forward but um....enjoy!
Fic description:
John and Martin survived the events of Mag 200 and ended up Somewhere Else, but now Martin has become an Avatar of the Eye. Now the two of them must navigate all of the complications of their still-new relationship now that they don't have a fear apocalypse distracting them, AND being in a relationship where both people involved are Eye Avatars, AND Martin's struggles as a baby Eye Avatar.
Prolog
Two doors stood before him.
To his right, he could feel something watching him, even with the door shut. It exposed every part of him he had always tried to keep hidden. But it also promised knowledge. It promised understanding.
To his left, a thick, foreboding fog rolled from beneath the door, beckoning him. The door itself was sturdy and gave off the impression that beyond its threshold, there was nothing but isolation. But it promised “no more hurt.” It promised “peace.”
He turned to the door to the right and opened it.
He was greeted by a woman on fire. They were in an apartment. Before her, another woman stared on in terror. The burning woman reached out to her, and as her fingers grazed her arm, the hairs on it burned. He wanted to help her, wanted to reach out and pull her away from the fire, but he found he could not. He could only stand there, and watch.
And then they were gone.
The next thing he saw was a building. A theater, dark and foreboding, with patrons made of stone frozen in place as if they were rushing in to see a show. The scene before him was cold and grey and lifeless, and there was a���hole here. Something missing, though he could not say what it was or how he knew.
And just like that, it too was gone, crumbling before him into dust.
He was in a café. A woman sat at a table. A man sat before her, staring at her intently, and though he did not know the man, there was something in his chest that told him the man was so achingly familiar that he could not place. From the man, he got the feeling of eyes. Of watching. And then the woman was underground, being pulled, pulled, and the man was there and the woman was staring at him in terror. And then she saw him, and her eyes widened in horror she didn’t realize she could know more of. And he could not console her. And then they were in the cafe again and the woman was crying as the man continued to sit before her, watching. And then it all fell away and he was falling into a sky made of paint, alongside a man whose face was filled with elation, a toppled ladder floating above them.
And then it repeated. Again, and again, and he was forced to watch as the woman in the apartment burned, as the woman in the cafe cried before the man before being pulled underground, watched dispassionately by the man. And as these scenes before him repeated, they changed. The women in the apartment and the café, and the man falling into the sky, faded more and more each time. The theater, with its empty space, vanished entirely. And each time he saw the man in the café, his heart ached, and something in the back of is mind told him that he was familiar, in a way that the others he saw were not.
And as he fell into the painted sky, he started to experience brief flashes of a different fall. Of debris of a collapsing building, and the smell of fire, and the sensation of someone else with him, holding on to him as they fell. Together.
Eventually, the people in the scenes before him vanished entirely, save for the burning woman and the man in the café, and soon even the scenes before him began to grow more and more faded. And in the distance, he began to hear a voice.
“…wake up.”
And he kept falling.
“Please wake up. I ca—cant lose you…”
Falling.
“It should have been me…”
Falling
“I can’t do this without you, no please, please wake up I need you….”
Falling
“Please, I love you...”
And then Martin woke up.
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ayayabaroque · 2 years ago
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tanginamo hilig mo mag procrastinate kahit aabi mo mag rerelease ka ng fic nung December 20-26
POSSIBLE WARNINGS FOR THE DARK(ISH??) THEMES AHEAD???
+delusional scarapoots, he sees you as both his mother figure and a romantic(ishh) interest hahahahahaha borderline insane but same ngl
Qhat if ano
Hear me out
Genshin SAGAU but Scaramouche never met his old mortal friends etcetc...
Time travelling shit
But wait, theres more
May sense of creepiness iykwis
Darling takes care of him throughout the time Ei supposedly abandoned him, but aftr he becomes a harbinger you suddenly leave for no reaspn
He misses you and hes mad at u for leaving him
Imagine the shock when he finds out that you returned.
Or, an impostor of per se
in the attempt to make the so-called 'God' he worships as of now, he k-words the 'impostor' (which is u btw and now you hate him since you're a vengeful person and by you i mean me)
Oh the horror he has on his face when he saw your gold blood seeping through your lifeless body.
He's constantly hearing a faint ringing in his head telling him—
"Sinner. Sinner. Sinner. SINNER."
In the desperate attempt to cling on to whatever life you had, he hugged your — now dead — form tightly, while pressing his cheek against yours for any source of warmth.
"Your Grace, please don't forsake me, for I have sinned against you—
...
"Please Your Grace, wake up!
...
"If you so wish to torment and torture me so be it! Just please, wake up!
...
"I-I won't do it again, I promise— I'll murder the true impostor at your command, please—
...
"I understand I am a disappointment, but please don't leave me! You're—
...all that I have.
"Mother...
My mother... You...
You are my true... mother, not Ei, not anyone, only you.
You are special to me.
You won't leave me too, right mother?"
Scaramouche coddles your dead, rotting corpse closer, rocking bad and forth as it settles in his mind that you're dead now. You're gone.
He doesn't accept the fact you're gone rather, he stares at you lovingly, kissing you endlessly as if you were under a curse.
He's aware of what he's done, he chooses not to face it. He didn't sin against you, he was with you here right now. He didn't kill you, you're in his arms, looking at him lovingly and with care. He wasn't the reason you died, in fact, you didn't die at all!
"My creator, my life, my darling, let us go home.
I shall patch up your wounds immediately.
After that, I shall lay with you in bed, seeking your warmth as I always have.
As I always would.
And as I ever will be."
As he fulfills his promise of murdering the impostor at your absent command, he is expectant of praise from a cold, rotting corpse.
"Oh mother...
Please tell me I've done you good.
Please, praise me again and tell me you won't leave me.
That I am your good boy.
No one else's.
Yours.
Mother.
My love.
You will always be."
i fucking wrote this at 12:55 i havent inhaled much sleep so fuck u if you laugh at this
Sincerely, Prince
btw wheres my christmas gift i asked for genesis crystals and you gave me a fuckcij rubber duck./lh/j
i dont want whatever the fuck you're on Prince stop writing your creepy ideas at midnight adik ka ba Prince? I'm also sorry I haven't been writing a lot, I promise I'll post the shit in my drafts soon. Much love and whatever else is left of me, Niecass. p.s: You're not getting another Christmas gift. The rubber duck gift set for children is all that I can afford.
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mroddmod · 2 years ago
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HEY i'm here to do that stupid sappy thing where i make a new years post and thank everyone for the great year.
i already said this on twt but i can genuinely say that i have never had this much fun in a fandom before. i've never CLICKED with a fandom and its participants in the way that i've clicked with the stranger things fandom. i've made more finished art than i have for any other franchise, i think. i've never gotten to connect with people and make friends in a fandom like i have with the stranger things fandom. THE FRIENDS IVE MADE ARE SOME OF THE BEST IVE HAD IN LIKE. EVER. you guys are seriously so awesome. NOT TO MENTION ALL THE INCREDIBLE PEOPLE THAT I ALWAYS SEE IN MY REBLOG TAGS AND REPLIES. i've had the privilege to get to meet, know, and interact, with some of the nicest and most talented people ever. it's been such a good year BECAUSE of the connections i've made. SOOOOO i'm gonna list off some of my favorite people and say a little something and TRY to keep it short. OBVIOUSLY THIS IS IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER
@astrobei : yeah, obviously you're in here, idiot. you wormed your way into my life way too quickly and WAYYYY too easily but i wouldn't change it (probably. just kidding. or Am I.....). i was a MEGA fan of your writing LOOOONG before i ever even spoke to you, so it's kind of a trip that i talk to you every day now. if you told mod from september that he'd be this tight w suni astrobi he absolutely would not believe you. anyway thank you for making me laugh so much and talking to me all the time even though you should probably be doing better things. keep being you. k love u (maybe) bye
@msquared1414 : MAGS. MY DEAR MAGS. I LOVE YOU SO DEARLY. you are a beacon of light in a fucked up and annoying world. i know i can always count on you for support and a good laugh. im so glad i got to know you over the time that we've been talking. i promise i have more special wips to send u soon. I MISS YOU ALL THE TIME BFF
@cherbearsz : CHER 😭😭😭 do you realize that you're actually one of the funniest people on the planet. did you Know. actually i take it back, you're the funniest. i could be having a shit day and suddenly cher gets in the chat and stirs up chaos and i am feeling like :) again. ty for being you, bro 🤝
@livsmessydoodles : we've known each other for a long time but i feel like i didn't really GET to know you until this year. but i'm so glad i did!! you are such a lively and positive energy that i love to see on my dash, in my notifs, in our group chats, anywhere. you are TRULY a unifying and joyful force. keep up your good energy, so many good things will come to you in life.
@halosketches : sorry but who gave you the right to be this cool. like i wanna know. YOU'RE ACTUALLY THE COOLEST PERSON IVE MET.... i know this is like a cringe thing to say but your vibes are Unmatched. i know i can always trust your takes because your taste in media is the Highest of quality. you're also way too nice. you're insane.
@wynsvre : sarah :((( my bro. my guy. you are an INSPIRATION to me and you always will be in so many ways. you are so real and honest and i value that in you so much. honestly you're just such a rad person. i aspire to be more like u.
@janceezer : KITE!!!!! i actually cannot believe how sappy and sweet you are it's CRAZY that you're just that way. YOURE JUST THAT GOOD. it pleasantly surprises me all the time. you are so down to earth and you care about people with everything you have, and i feel SO lucky to be one of those people. KEEP BEING YOU!!!
@tryingonametaphor : AH BHAVNA you have been an absolute pleasure to get to know this year. i was ALSO a huge fan of yours before i got to know you personally, but i was BLOWN away by how kind you are 😭 you are just so understanding and patient and RIDICULOUSLY creative. you're so cool, it's crazy.
@spacedru1d : MY BFF!!!!! my matching bff. you've been such a good friend and a delight to interact with. you're naturally such a good person without even trying. IVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH DURING YOUR TIME IN UNI but i'm proud of you for getting your shit done and finally getting the gf of ur dreams. I WISH YOU NOTHING BUT THE BEST BFF!!!
okay now that i've gotten all my Real Actual IRL Bestest Friends in the Entire World out of the way....
some other people that i've loved interacting with/seeing in my notifs/seeing on my dash:
@bujomoss, @http-byler, @smoosnoom, @bookinit02, @nnilkyway, @elekinetic, @wiseatom, @andiwriteordie, @paladibun, @noodles-and-tea, @aemiron-main, @caesarexile, and many more im CERTAIN i'm forgetting.
anyway. thanks for an incredible year. HERES TO 2023!!!
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trentonsimblr · 2 years ago
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Hi Lovelies!
Couple of announcements:
I'm pretty sure my story links aren't working right (thanks tumblr for messing them up). I haven't had the mental energy to fix them but they are on my list.
I'm working on a flash forward scene in honor of my two year anniversary that is coming up at the end of June but I will probably be posting it sooner than that.
I see the light at the end of the tunnel for this chapter! We will probably reach the end of it by the end of July(ish). I do plan to take a decent break during that time to plan out the next chapter in full. I will most likely be doing some mag covers and such to "pass the time" both in story and in real life.
I got a new job! (yay!) I'm really excited for it as it's back to healthcare/where my passion lies. I start that job on May 16th and I'm currently apartment hunting as well. If I'm not as responsive as usual, that's why.
I have a bunch of asks hanging out in my inbox, I will get to them soon! Promise! Some of them have been there for longer than I'd prefer.
Lastly (I think), I redid my first 3 generations of Rutherfords. They originals were just random sims that I took portraits of to hang around the palace before my gameplay turned into a story. They did not share sim genetics and two of them were the same sims as Elizabeth and Nathanael. I've added their pictures below and I will eventually update them in my Trenton History posts.
King Epidarius and Queen Jordan (the first King and Queen of Trenton)
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King Hayes, King Ekert and Queen Olena
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Queen Edwena and King Kellan
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Princess Everly, King Ezequiel, and Prince Irvin
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kingmagnificoofrosas · 8 months ago
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Hi!! I love your work and I sometimes go back to just admire your art ‘cause it’s so pretty!
I just have a small question, unless it’s details saved for your book…. since King Magnifico is the king of Rosas and Queen Myrah is the queen of Rosas then what kingdom is Queen Amaya the queen of? Or if I got it all wrong then my bad! Aha, so many king and queen words in that one sentence (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
Hiii! And awww thank you!!! 🥺❤️ I'm so happy to hear you love my art!!
Oh, don't worry, that question is totally fine! 🤭 I got ya! Royal mess of titles am I right? BUT, I wouldn't be the king's royal advicer and assistant if I couldn't reply to such questions! So ☝🏻 put your listening ears on 👂🏻, cause that answer takes a bit! 😌
Yes, our dear gem Magnifico was and is again, rightful king of Rosas and Myrah ( his soulmate ) logically - became queen after they married.
Amaya is Myrah's older cousin. That means, she's her mother's sister. Myrah's parents used to be king and queen of Solaris. A kingdom south-west from the iberian peninsula/spain. Through that royal connection, Amaya's parents were countess and earl, making Amaya a lady.
Amaya only became queen because she wanted to come with Magnifico to help him. Since they'd become close friends. Amaya's parents however, especially her father, was strictly against that, since she was still young at that time (16) . The only acceptable way for Magnifico to be able to take Amaya with him, would have been marriage. So Magnifico came up with the idea of a marriage of convenience. A secret promise he and Amaya made was, should they ever find their soulmates, the whole marriage by convenience would be nullified. Since Magnifico was royal from birth, he promised Amaya that he was able to do that once he stepped into his duty becoming king.
(I have s whole post about the marriage of convenience thing flying around on my blog somewhere too 😵‍💫 it's been a while )
Now, we all know how badly things went down . . . And my part is writing Magnifico's whole story 😉✍️🏼 so how exactly he and Myrah found each other and got together, that will be in my book as well. But you already know the most important fact. They are soulmates and of course, this time, Magnifico truly married for that reason.
Amaya has her soulmate as well and she married him eventually while Magnifico was still in the "cursed cage" as I like to call the realm he was trapped in. Don't worry, I've already promised to introduce Amaya's soulmate soon! So, while Mags was still gone, Amaya had remained in charge of Rosas for quite a while and through marrying Rowan (her soulmate) he became king for a short while. After Magnifico returned (yes it will all be in the book 😆 unless you truly want to hear the nitty gritty details. In that case, write me privately and I'll spill some tea!) He reclaimed his rightful place as king. Thus, Amaya went back to her status as lady making her husband a lord.
Magnifico let Amaya and Rowan stay home in his castle. Speaking the current timeline ( the present of my blog, past the events of my book ) Amaya and Rowan are Magnifico and Myrah's stand in's. That means, they take over watching Rosas whenever the royal couple takes some time off or goes on a vacation.
Phew! Quite a bit of an answer huh? I hope I could help you out 😄 thank you very much for that question! I enjoyed answering it!
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callsign-magnolia · 2 years ago
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I Hope You Dance // Ch. 30
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MATURE CONTENT (18+)
A/N: This is cross posted to my Wattpad, so if this seems familiar that is why!
TW: Mental abuse, emotional abuse, slight physical abuse, death and loss.
Description: When Caila meets Rooster, sparks fly. But, she's already married, to a man who she thought loved her, and won't let her go. Rooster will fight for her, he just has to convince Caila to fight for herself.
Word Count: 6.8k
Chapter 29 | Masterlist
"Okay, remember you have a lot behind you so pay attention when you change lanes." "Mags, I know." He said, a hint of annoyance in his tone. I pursed my lips, nodding. "I'm sorry." We both said, making us giggle. "I shouldn't have snapped like that." I shook my head at his words. "No, I'm trying to tell you how to drive." He hummed. "I mean, I've never pulled one of these before so it kinda makes sense." He said as he looked over at me, winking. We decided to spend our last Sunday together and go to Point Reyes National Seashore. It was an hour away so we decided to take the airstream so he could get more practice, and bring the dogs. I was worried about how Sadie would do in the car, but she's unfazed. Sleeping in the back, curled up on a blanket. "This is how it should be." I turned to Rooster, watching as he stared out the windshield. 
"What?" I asked, leaning my elbow on the door and looking at him. "This is what we should be able to do whenever we want. This is how we should start our lives together, not you leaving." I gave him a sad smile, reaching and taking his hand from the steering wheel. "As soon as I come home, how about we take time and travel to different national parks?"  He smiled at me as I pulled his hand up, kissing the back of it. He held my hand the entire way to the park, only letting go to turn up the volume when a song he liked came on. When we arrived we pulled into a parking lot just up from the beach. We got out and stretched, looking out at the gorgeous pacific. I went into the airstream, grabbing the beach blanket, towels and some waters while Bradley got the dogs out. 
We met up and he handed me Dahlia's leash before taking my hand and leading us down to the beach where he set up the large beach blanket and the umbrella. It was a beautiful sunny day, warm enough to sunbathe but with it being late October the water was chilly. I stripped down to my bathing suit, a forest green halter top and high waisted white bottoms with palms leaves on it. "Damn." I turned to see Rooster, his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at me. "Like what you see?" I asked, wiggling my butt before sitting down. "Hell yeah I do." He said before joining me on the blanket. "Someone's not a fan of the sand." I said as Sadie picked her little feet up hustling back onto the blanket. Rooster laughed at her little dance, her curling up against Rooster's leg. I looked to Dahlia who was staring at the water and I sighed. "Okay." I said her release word and she took off, sprinting towards the water and kicking sand onto Rooster. "Hey!" He yelled out as she ran face first into a small wave. 
"Don't you ever worry about her in the water?" I shook my head. "She doesn't like going too far out. About halfway up her legs is all she will tolerate." He nodded as we watch her run towards the waves and then away. "It's like having a child." Bradley laughed out as a wave knocked Dahlia over, sending her running back to us. She plopped down in the sand next to me, panting and looking around with wide eyes as if the wave would reach out and grab her. "So, you gonna read to me like you promised?" Rooster asked, laying his head on my stomach. "Of course." I said, reaching into the bag and pulling out the first Harry Potter book. "I can't believe you talked me into letting you read me the Harry Potter books." I giggled, running my fingers through his hair. "You'll love it, I promise." I said as I cracked open the book, starting the first chapter. 
We spent hours on the beach, relaxing, reading, playing with the dogs. Well, Dahlia. Sadie was more than happy to lay on the blanket and watch. We even sat under the awning of the airstream, eating lunch as the dogs laid in the air conditioning. After that we went back to the beach, lying in the sun just talking. We talked about the house, the deployment, flying, his parents and everything in between. He told me how his parents got married in Hawaii and how he came along only nine months later, his mother saying he was 'The surprise of a lifetime' making me laugh. I told him how my mom believed she was anything but pregnant when she had me. She refused to go to the doctor for awhile, saying she was too old to have another kid. She really wasn't but she just said it to say it. 
"What's she nosing at?" Rooster asked, turning my attention to Dahlia who was crouched down, sticking her nose in the sand. "I don't know-" Her yelping cut us off as she took off down the beach, away from us. We were on our feet, sprinting after her as she finally stopped running, opting to swing her head around. "DAHLS?!" I yelled, finally grabbing her collar to stop her. "Shit, she's got a crab stuck to her nose." Rooster said as he grabbed her head, keeping her from thrashing around. "Can you get it?" I asked, straddling Dahlia so she wouldn't run. He reached up, grabbing the crab which then turned and pinched him. "AH!" He squealed, swinging his hand and flinging the crab into the water. "Are you okay?" I asked, keeping a hold of Dahlia's collar and grabbing his hand. "Yes, it's just stings a little." He said, shaking his finger and grabbed Dahlia's face too get a good look at her. "Her nose is bleeding." 
I looked and she had a little bit of blood dripping from her nose, her big eyes looking between us. "Okay, we'll clean her up back in the airstream." He nodded, grabbing her collar as we walked back towards the blanket and umbrella. Sadie met us halfway, jumping around Dahlia. I swooped her up carrying her back to the airstream. Once there I set Sadie on the couch before we hauled Dahlia into the shower. Believe it or not she fits if she keeps her head turned. We rinsed all the sand and ocean water off of her before drying her off and cleaning her nose up. "Ready to go?" He asked and I nodded. "Yeah, just wish I had more energy. I don't think I'll be able to shower when we get home." I said, leaning my head on his shoulder. "Well, there's still water in the tank. We could shower here so then we could just stop for food and go home. 
I smirked up at him. "Only if you join me." He chuckled, but agreed anyway. The shower was a tight squeeze but we made it work before changing into clean clothes and getting out to get in the jeep. I walked to my door, after we loaded the dogs, reaching for the handle. I stopped, realizing Rooster wasn't rushing over to open my door. I looked around the jeep, seeing him leaned against the driver's side door. "Hey, you okay?" His head snapped to me and he nodded. "Yeah, just wish we could stay." I raised my brows. "We can go get food, then come back and stay the night. We'd just have to get up early so we can go to work." He sighed, throwing his arm around my shoulder and shaking his head. "No, I know you won't want to get up that early. Just stay here with me for a minute." I nodded, wrapping my arms around his waist as he pulled me close. We stood there as the sun went down, just enjoying ourselves. "Take a picture with me?" He looked down at me, smiling and nodding. I pulled my phone out, handing it to him so he could hold it out. He snapped the photo, making sure we looked good before handing the phone back to me. After awhile we got in the car and drove home, stopping for fast food on the way. 
I fell asleep in the car, only waking up as we pulled in the driveway. "Leave it all hooked up, we'll take the bronco in the morning." I muttered, getting out of the jeep and dragging myself into the house. We both slept like the dead, but felt great the next day, arriving at work with smiles on our faces. "Your shoes." Phoenix said holding up the gold heels as I met her in the parking lot. "Next time, tell me if they're designer. I was freaking out all night when I saw the Jimmy Choo label!" She said, making me laugh. "They're shoes!" I said shrugging and she scoffed as Rooster opened the door for us. "They're shoes that are over a thousand dollars! I mean what are those, diamonds?!" She asked as we walked into the locker room. "Absolutely not, they're crystals." She leaned her head back, eyes wide. "And they were a gift. Mom wore them once for an event and gave them to me. I may like designer shoes but those are a bit much for me, I only wore them once." I said as I set them in my locker with my duffel. 
"Now, onto the real matter. How was your date?" I asked excitedly. "It was... so amazing. I actually had a great time. It's just- he didn't come in after our date. I invited him in, and he said no. To be honest I was hoping to get laid and he just kissed my cheek and left." I smiled at her as she looked crestfallen. "Have you considered he didn't come in and sleep with you, because he wants you to know he sees you as more than a fuck buddy?" She sighed, leaning her head on the locker. "But it's so frustrating! We started hooking up to ease our tensions, he can't hold out on me now." I chuckled, patting her back. "Tell him that. Now come on, I don't want cyclone on our asses for being late to this briefing." She groaned, trailing behind me as we walked up to the ready room. 
The day was normal, flights went well but it was when I finished my last flight before lunch that the day got interesting. As I got out of the jet, my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, seeing Robin's name. "Hello?" I asked, lifting it to my ear as I wiped the sweat from my forehead. "Miss Motley. I was calling to tell you we have an applicant for Sadie." A part of me was happy, and another part of me was sad. "Oh yeah?" I asked, walking into the hangar to meet Rooster for lunch. "Yes, want me to tell you about him?" I nodded as I stopped in the shade. "Yes, please." 
After my conversation with Robin I walked inside to find Rooster. "Here, I got you that sandwich you like." He said as I sat next to him, sliding the container my way. I pursed my lips as he looked at me. "What's wrong?" I laid my phone on the table, turning to him. "Robin called. Someone put in an application for Sadie and she says he looks like a great fit for her." He swallowed his food, furrowing his brows at me. "Already? " I nodded. "But she's just now getting used to us and we're gonna just hand her off to some stranger?" I expected this reaction. Throughout the week Rooster has taken a liking to Sadie, almost like she was his dog. "He's a navy veteran that lives in Miramar, he doesn't work and he travels a bit so she'll be with him all the time. His kids are grown and he has no other animals, this is perfect for her." He huffed, looking back down at his food. 
"She's growing on me too, but we have to give her this shot." I said, pushing some hair back off his forehead. He stayed quiet, ignoring me for awhile as we ate until finally he sighed, sitting back in his seat. "When do hand her over?" He asked, a miserable look on his face. "He's going to meet us at the house with Robin at five." He furrowed his brows, looking over at me. "We get to meet this guy?" He asked and I nodded. "That was my stipulation with Robin. We had to meet him before we handed her over." He gave me a small smile. "Thank you." He said as he leaned over, kissing my cheek. "I knew it'd make you feel better." I said, taking another bite from my sandwich. "Yeah, it does." 
The rest of the day dragged by and finally we showered and changed on base before heading home. The ride was quiet, anxiety filling the air, almost suffocating me. I rolled the window down, the semi-warm air twirling around us. We didn't speak as we pulled in the driveway, or when we walked in the house. Rooster dropped his duffel and made his way to the laundry room. I pursed my lips, grabbing his bag and taking it upstairs. As I came back down he stopped at the bottom of the staircase, Sadie in his arms. "I would've gotten it, Mags." I shrugged. "It's okay. I put it up." He gave me a smile, scratching behind Sadie's ear. He turned and walked over to the couch, sitting down and propping his feet on the table. I watched him for a minute, my elbow on the banister and my chin in my hand. 
Part of me worried if this was the right choice. Originally I felt that way, but over the past week she's grown on me and she's really grown on Rooster. Was this really fair to her, or even Roo? I was pulled out of my thoughts by a sniffle. Sadie had tucked her head into his neck, staring at me as he cradled her. I walked over, sitting next to him as tears streaked his cheeks. I pulled his head onto my shoulder as Dahlia came over, resting her large head in my lap. We sat like that until there was a knock on the door, causing both dogs to bark. I stood as Sadie wiggled out of Bradley's arms following me to the door. I swung the door open, seeing a woman and man standing on the porch. "Caila?" I nodded, holding out my hand for her to shake. "You must be Robin." She nodded. "I am, and this is Rick. He's the one interested in adopting Sadie." I smiled and shook his hand as Sadie started barking again. "Sadie." I said and she stopped, sitting pretty with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. 
"Trained?" I nodded, opening the door wider for them to come in. "A little. She can sit, lay down, speak-" She barked at the word, making us laugh. I looked as Bradley stood, coming around the house. "This is my boyfriend Bradley. He's become quite fond of Sadie and vice versa." They nodded and greeted each other. "So tell us about Sadie." Robin said, pointing towards the little dog. "Well she weighs four pounds, which the vet says is a healthy weight for her. She eats a cup of food a day, we split that between two meals. She does not like the crate. We think she's spent most of her life in one, so we put her in the laundry room with a towel and a few toys when we're gone and at night. We put a baby gate up so she's not in the dark alone." They nodded as Sadie walked to the other side of the couch. They looked over a little startled at Dahlia sitting there, Sadie sitting under her chest. "Oh, and she likes our other dog. Dahlia." Robin chuckled as Rick seemed a little weary of Dahlia. 
"Wanna meet her?" I asked and they nodded. Rick got down in the floor, Sadie rushing over, excited that someone is on her level. Dahlia started over and I laughed. "Dahls." I called and she turned, resting her head on Rooster's legs. "So why a small dog?" I asked and Rick shrugged in response. "I travel a lot and I live alone. I wanted a companion. An older small dog that could go with me but didn't have more energy than me." We nodded as Sadie crawled in his lap, licking his face. After awhile he got up, deciding it was time to go. Robin had him fill out the paperwork while Rooster and I gathered her things, and saying goodbye. Rooster had tears in his eyes and so did I as Rick put her in the passenger seat of his truck. "That's not the safest place for her." He said. It was so quiet that if his head wasn't resting on mine I never would've heard him. 
I grabbed his hand, kissing his knuckles as Rick drove off, Sadie barking out the window as he drove away. "Letting them go is always hard." Robin said as she turned to us. "But, if you ever decide to do it again, here's my card." She said, holding out a business card. "Thank you, Robin." She nodded, heading for her car as Rooster went back inside. "Hey." I said, catching his hand. "I know you're upset. So am I. So why don't we go get some tacos and some beer? Huh?" He inhaled sharply as he fought back tears. "Yeah." He said, nodding. "I'll unhook the jeep from the airstream and we can go." He nodded as I went outside, unhooking the airstream and starting the jeep. He came around to the front and I redirected him to the passenger side. He buckled up and leaned his head back, making me sigh. I reach over, grabbing his hand and resting our now intertwined fingers on the center console. 
Once we arrived at the taco place I ordered from the little shack before joining him in the back of the jeep as we faced the beach. "I'm sorry." I said as I set my taco down. "Why?" He asked, looking at me puzzled. "For saying that putting her in another home was a good idea." He gave me a small smile. "You thought it was best." I nodded. "Was. Over time she grew on me and now I'm questioning if it was the right decision." He rested his hand on my knee, pulling my attention to him. "It was the right decision." I smiled, leaning over to kiss him. Once we finished out tacos I got back in the driver's seat, driving us to the store to pick up some beers. "They were out of Budweiser, so I got Ultra." He groaned, leaning his head back. "I guess I'll drink the Ultra." I giggled at his words. "Do you mind if I stop at this clothing store real quick? Online they have a shirt that would be perfect for my costume." He nodded and I pulled into the boutique parking lot.
We got out and he went in with me, following me around the small store as I looked for the top. A black leather jacket caught my eye and I stopped, admiring it as an associate came over. "Hi, finding everything alright?" I nodded, pulling out my phone. "Yeah, could you actually show me where this top is?" She looked and nodded with a smile. "Follow me." She led us over to the left of the store, showing me the top. "Can I get that in an XL?" She nodded, grabbing it and walking me over to the dressing room. "Sir, you can wait here while she tries this on." The girl said, motioning to a couch in front of the dressing rooms. "I'll be right out, okay?" I asked and he nodded, tugging my arm and pulling me in for a quick kiss before letting go. 
It's not unusual for Bradley to kiss me, but to do it so suddenly and randomly was dizzying. I was in a haze as I slowly changed shirts, tying it at the waist line of my jeans before stepping out. "Okay..." I trailed off not seeing Rooster anywhere. "Roo?" Suddenly he came back in, panting as he ran over. "Sorry, I had to go out to the jeep for a second." I held my arms out, motioning to the shirt. "What do we think?" He gave me a dopey smile, staring at my breasts. "I love it." I scowled at him. "Is it because I look good or my boobs look good?" His smile grew as he grabbed my hips. "Your boobs look amazing, but you, you look phenomenal!" He said, kissing me sweetly. "So I should buy it?" He nodded. "Oh, yes." I giggled, pulling away. I changed back into my shirt, going up to pay. "Here." Rooster said, setting his card down. "Oh no." I said as I handed it back to him. "Yes." He said as he held it out to the girl.
"No!" I whined, shoving his arm as I reached into my purse for my card. "Ma'am-" "Please. Don't take his card." I said as the woman grinned. Just as I got mine out of my wallet, it was snatched from my hand. "HEY!" I yelled, turning to Rooster. As I did he bent over, grabbing my thigh and lifting me over his shoulder. "Bradley!" I wailed, beating on his muscular back. I didn't want to kick and risk hurting him or the cashier but I was getting desperate. Just as I started to consider it, I heard him thank the woman and turn for the door, bringing me face to face with her. "I'm sorry. Thank you for putting up wit hour shenanigans." She just laughed, smiling at us. "It's all right. Have a nice day!" She called as we walked out the door. I expected him to put me down but instead he opened the door, and flung me off his shoulder, intending to put me in the seat. But instead the back of my head smashed into the door frame, making me yelp. 
"Mags!" He said as he stepped up on the running boards. "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean-" I held my hand up, the other rubbing my head. "I know, Roo. It's okay." He sighed, kissing my forehead. "I'll look at it when we get home, okay?" I nodded, leaning back in the seat as he closed my door. He got in on the drivers side, setting the bag in the back. "You sure you're okay?" I nodded. "I grew up with Jameson for a brother. Not my first bump on the head." He sighed, resting his hand on my thigh as he drove us home. Once there we got everything out, going inside. "Sit on the counter for me?" Rooster asked after I put the beer in the fridge. I nodded, jumping to sit on the counter as he lifted my hips. He ran his fingers through my hair, rubbing my scalp. I hissed in pain as his fingers brushed over the sore spot. "Does it hurt?" I nodded. "It's sore. Like a bruise." He nodded. 
"I don't think it's a concussion. But if you have a headache, nausea, dizziness, or pressure you're going straight to the hospital." I giggled. "Yes, doctor." He scoffed, pulling me off the counter. Wrapping my legs around his waist and lifting me, grinning at me as he walked over to the fridge, grabbing two beers and taking us outside. He sat on the swing, me now straddling his lap. "A beer for my pretty girl." He said handing it to me. He cracked his open, stealing a sip and looking out at the beach. I raised a brow, bottle still held up in my hand as I stared at him. "Mhmm." I cleared my throat and he looked back at me, his brows shooting up in realization. "Oh, I'm sorry, honey." He said, taking my beer and opening it. "Thank you." I said, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. "Mm, you're welcome." He said as I took a sip of my beer. He smiled at me as I set the bottle down next to us and I leaned forward, resting my head on his shoulder. 
"I love you, sweet girl." He said, his fingers threading through my tresses. "I love you too, Roo." We sat like that, Dahlia eventually ambling out and flopping on the porch to join us. We sat there for a while, watching the sun dip below the sea. It was finally dark when we got up, going inside to change into our pajamas. I was prepping our coffee for the next morning when my phone buzzed. I looked over at it, seeing a twitter notification. I opened the app, seeing another person commented on the picture I posted of Rooster and I yesterday. 'That is not your husband' My eyes rolled back so far in my head, I thought I saw my brain. I tossed my phone back on the counter, going back to the coffee. Once I finished I went upstairs, Dahlia sprawled across the bed as Rooster laid on his side. 
"I heard you toss your phone. What happened?" I shook my head, getting in the bed. "Just some stupid internet troll puttin' their two sense in on the photo I posted of us." He furrowed his brows, looking over at me. "You posted a photo of us?" He asked, sitting up and looking at me. My heart started racing. What if he was mad? "Uh, yeah. Should I not have? I can take it down-" "No, it's fine. I just didn't know you reactivated your socials." I nodded. "It felt like I was runnin' from everything. I was tired of it." He nodded, his hand sliding down my thigh. "Anyone giving you any trouble?" I nodded. "Nothing unusual. People still mad about Aaron, mad I look the way I do, mad a landed a stud like you." He chuckled at my words. "I'm serious. One lady was mad about the color of my eyes." He raised a brow in surprise. "Really?" I nodded. "Yeah. Some people just have to have something to be mad about." 
He scoffed, sliding down in the bed and cutting off his lamp. I grabbed the Harry Potter book we started yesterday as he shifted to lean on me. "You think she'll be okay?" I sighed, running my fingers through his hair. "I think she will." His arms wrapped around me, tugging me close as his eyes shifted to the foot of the bed where Dahlia was. "What about her?" He asked, nodding towards the large black dog. She's been a little mopey since Sadie left, obviously not happy her friend was gone. "She's upset. But she'll be okay." He nodded as he cracked open the book. "What line were we on?" 
"TROLL'S IN THE DUNGEON!" He yelled out, startling me. "You jerk!" I said, jabbing my fingers in his ribs as he laughed loudly, shaking the bed. "You know what? I'm done reading these to you. Read them yourself." I said, closing the book. "No! Honey, please! I love listening to your voice!" I pursed my lips, sighing and opening the book back up. "Okay, but you yell like that again and I will hit you with this book." He stared up at the hardcover book in my hand, a look of fear gracing his face. "Yes, ma'am." I smirked, going back to playing with his hair and started reading.
The next day I had a headache, I was worried I actually had a concussion so while Rooster, Payback and Fanboy were in the air I went to Maverick. "Mav." He turned to me, smiling. "Hey, Magnolia. You okay?" I shook my head. "I need to go to the hospital." He furrowed his brows. "Everything okay?" I shook my head. "Rooster went to put me in the jeep yesterday and he cracked my head on the frame pretty good. I was fine yesterday but now I have a headache." He nodded, motioning me closer and felt around my head. "Here." I said moving his hand over and hissing as he hit the spot. "You have a nasty bump. You're grounded until the doctor says other wise." I groaned. I can't have this right before a deployment. "Phoenix. Bob." The two came over, listening as Maverick gave them instructions to accompany me.
"Hey, Mav." He turned to me, aviators over his eyes. "Don't tell Rooster? He'll feel so guilty." He nodded, giving me a thumbs up before making his way over to Hangman and Coyote. "Come on." Bob said, resting his hand on my back and guiding me through the building until we were outside. "Here, I'll drive." Phoenix said as Bob helped me into the passenger seat and Phoenix got into the drivers seat of her car and Bob got in the back. Once we arrived at the hospital my headache had gotten worse so they both helped me out and to the door. Phoenix grabbed my paperwork and helped me fill it out before taking it back up there. When they finally called my name I went back alone, since they had to go back to training.
"So you think you have a concussion?" The doctor asked as I laid on the ER bed. "Yeah." He nodded, shining a light in my eyes. "How'd this happen?" I sighed, rubbing between my brows. "My boyfriend smashed my head in the car door frame." I said. I looked up as the doctor set his clipboard down, looking at me with a raised brow. "That came out wrong. He was carrying me to the car and when he went to put me in the passenger seat he lifted me too high and my head hit the door frame." He nodded, writing stuff down. "Uh huh. Tell me Lieutenant, has this ever happened before?" I knew where this was going. The same questions I got when I was with Aaron. "Not with him." The doctor raised his brow again. I wanted to rip it off, seeing that thing go up and down on his damn face. "I was married once. Abusive asshole, I know how these questions go." I snapped. "Ah." He said before nodding. "I want to do an MRI, just to make sure you don't have a concussion." 
I nodded, taking out my earrings and sticking them in my flight suit pocket as a transporter came in to wheel me to the MRI machine. Once in there I moved onto the table, lying flat as I waited for them to roll me in. "Okay, Lieutenant. We're going to roll you in and it may be loud but sit very still and we'll tell you when to hold your breath." I stuck my thumb up and waited. I held my breath when they said, and waited as the machine roared around. Finally they told me I could release my breath and I shifted from the tube back onto the gurney. They wheeled me back into the room, where Rooster was with his head in his hands. "Thank god!" He said, jumping up. "Coyote said you came to the hospital with a headache and I panicked!" I grabbed his hand, intertwining his fingers with mine.
"Bradley. Concussion or not, I'll be okay." He sighed. "You leave in five days. I could have put you out of commission." I shrugged. "They'd still send me out. I would just have to wait to fly." His face was red, like he was gonna cry. "Honey." I cooed, pulling him down next to me, resting my head on his shoulder. "It's okay. It was an accident." I said, rubbing my hand over our intertwined ones. "It was an accident, right? You weren't trying to keep me from going on this deployment? Because I wouldn't blame you." I joked, making him chuckle. Sniffing back his tears he turned, pressing his lips to my head. We sat like that until he had to leave and go back to the hangar, Mav only giving him thirty-minutes. After he left, I laid back, scrolling on my phone until the doctor came back in. "Okay, good news. You do not have a concussion, the hit probably just caused a headache. We're going to give you a tramadol shot and then you can go. You are free to start flying as soon as possible." I nodded, getting the shot from the nurse before leaving. Phoenix and Bob had to leave after I got called back, so I decided I would walk back. It wasn't too far. 
I walked through the streets of Coronado and after thirty minutes I made it back on base. I marched my way inside and out to the hangar. "She's back!" Payback yelled, clapping as I walked over. "Hangman, Phoenix and Bob are in the air. What'd the doctor say?" Mav said as I looked around, looking for them. "No concussion. Just a headache, I am free to fly." I said as Rooster wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "Good, we got some work to do." Mav said, encouraging us to go back to the ready room. We went through the motions of the day and after we got home, I changed into a sundress and some sandals. "Where are you goin' all dolled up?" He asked as I came downstairs. "I have to grab some things before I leave. So I'm running to the mall." I said as I picked up my keys. 
"Can I go with you?" He asked, leaning on the back of the couch. "Um, you wanna go shopping with me?" I asked with my brows furrowed. "Well of course. I don't care what we do as long as I get to spend time with you." My bottom lip jutted out at his words. "Really?" He nodded. Then I realized what I had to get. "Well, it's kind of personal so why don't you stay here." I said, reaching for the door. "What is it?" He asked and I stopped. "Come on. What could you be getting that I haven't already seen?" I bit my lip and I heard him stand. "Wait. Are you going for more pregnancy tests?" I whipped around, shaking my head. "No! I um..." I sighed in frustration. "I just need some new bras and maybe some underwear." His jaw dropped as he stepped closer, feigning hurt. "And you thought you were going to go without me?" 
"Yes?" He plucked the keys from my hand. "Absolutely not. Get that fine ass in the Jeep." I huffed, walking out and waiting for him to get my door before climbing in and pouting the entire way to the mall. Once we arrived I wasn't pouting but the grin on his face as we walked in annoyed me slightly. "So where are we going? Victoria Secret?" I scoffed as we got on the escalator. "You think they carry my size? I haven't worn VS since I was like seventeen." His eyebrows shot up at my words. "So then, where are we going?" I nodded at the store at the top of the escalator. He stared as we stepped off, the red sign shining brightly, catching his eye. I grabbed his hand, pulling him into the store with me.
"Hi, what can I help you find today?" I smiled at the raven haired woman that walked over. "Hi, I need a few more bras. Nothing sexy or lacy, just simple. It's only for a deployment." She nodded. "And what's your size?" I told her and she smiled. "We just got a large shipment of that size in today!" I cheered. "Great, because it's hard to find a size that big!" She laughed, motioning us to follow her. As we walked, Rooster was looking at everything. The lingerie on the mannequins, the walls of bras, fixtures of panties. "See something you like?" The lady asked and his face turned red, making me giggle. "Yes, he does." I answered as we stopped. "Would you like to try on some lingerie? I know it's not really deployment appropriate, but you might find you like it." 
My face turned red, I wanted to, I really did but I've never wore lingerie before. She grabbed a few black and nude bras before smiling at me. "Why don't we get you in this to try and then we'll go from there." It was a black babydoll with a matching g-string. It looked simple enough but I turned to look at Rooster, wanting his thoughts. "Well obviously I'm going to say yes, but you know it's up to you, pretty girl." He said, leaning over and kissing my temple. "Okay." I said shyly. "But you don't get to see here." He pouted at my words as I followed the lady to a dressing room. Rooster had to sit on a couch just outside the dressing rooms, but that was okay. "My name is Lydia if you need anything. I'll be back to check on you in a few minutes." I nodded. "Thank you." She shut the door and I pulled off my dress, taking off my own bra to try on the handful she gave me. 
Once I tried them on I turned to the babydoll she gave me. I admired the lace as well as the slit that ended on the ribs. I took a deep breath, slipping it on save for the underwear. I held the material in my hands, admiring it before glancing into the mirror. I really did look beautiful and I think that's the first time I ever said it to myself. I admired the way it complimented my figure. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. "Doing okay in there?" I nodded. "Yeah." I cracked the door, smiling at Lydia. "Could you actually get me a corset? I wanna try one." She nodded, rushing away as I closed the door and pulled out my phone, snapping a picture just before she came back. 
"Do you need help putting it on?" I nodded and she stepped in helping me to put the corset on and tightening it. "Holy shit." I gasped out and she grinned. I looked amazing, the corset was baby blue with minimal white lace detailing. "Can I make a suggestion?" I nodded. "I have some amazing white crotchless panties that would go with this." My face burned red and I hid my face at her words. "I'm sorry. I've never worn lingerie before so this is all new and the thought of crotchless panties is just-" "No! I get it! But look, that man out there seems absolutely taken with you. So it doesn't matter what you wear he'll love it. What we should focus on is if you love yourself in it." She was right, and I loved this. "I'll take it all, but try to keep it out of his sight?" She grinned excitedly and grabbed everything, nodding. "Absolutely." 
Once I had my own clothes back on I stepped out and as soon as I rounded the corner, Rooster was on his feet. "What're you getting?" He asked, making me grin. "Just the bras she gave me. A few nude and a few black." He nodded but I could see in his eyes that he was a little disappointed. I walked up to the register where she had my bag waiting. "Okay, that's Two-hundred and forty-eight dollars. "What?!" Roosted asked in shock. "Bras are expensive and I bought four." I said as I swiped my card. "That much for four bras? That makes them like sixty-two dollars a piece. I nodded, putting my wallet back in my purse. "Yes. The bigger they are, the more expensive they are. Also I pay for quality." I said as I grabbed my bag. "Thank you, Lydia." She nodded. "Have a nice evening." We nodded and left hand in hand. As we walked through the parking lot I saw him trying to peek into the bag. "Are you really not going to let me see them?" I shook my head. "Nope. Buy me dinner?" He laughed loudly at my words. "Your wish is my command, pretty girl." He said as he cranked the jeep.
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Taglist: @mak-32 @rosiahills22 @dhwanishah09
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