#also damn i have to put titles on these things lol

[c-nan]

ooh yay! wip poll time! tagged by @orionlancasterr (thank you!!! <3)

Rules: Make a 24-hour poll with the names of your wips, let it run, then write one sentence for every vote the winner received.

tagging @lenny-kosnowski @krismunroes @dancedance-resolution @bluehairedspidey @sprqpointintern @sappy-sappho and anyone else who wants to!! (omg idk who all writes fic!!! im sorry if i missed anyone 😭 pls do this if you see it and want to! (and don’t forget to tag me so i can vote 👍))

[coolshadowtwins]

Shen Brothers where the system puts SY into the role of SJ’s brother (younger or twin, either), and changes the world accordingly. This happens around the time that SY would have come to the world normally (Binghe is 14~)

Ask YQY, and of course he would tell you about Xiao-Yuan, who had been there all their childhood.

Ask LQG, and he will tell you how he absolutely hates SJ, the bastard, but he guesses his brother is ok. He doesn’t like him or anything but.

Ask QHT, and she will angrily tell you about the man who ruined her life, SJ, and how he just pulled his sweet brother into it. How SY was always quiet and withdrawn in the manor and so obviously wouldn’t have helped kill her family.

As NYY or MF, and any of them would tell you about their Shizun’s brother who only comes around sometimes but is really nice to them.

Ask SJ? He will tell you that he has no brother, he has never had a brother and who the hell is this stranger with his face?

The system changed everything, except for the tagged characters- ‘protagonist’ and ‘scum villain’ did not get involved with the world change, and have no idea who SY is. LBH is pretty ok with this. SJ absolutely is not.

SJ- You stay away!

YQY- Shen-Shidi, I don’t think Xiao-Yuan has done anything….?

SJ- Xiao-Yuan? Xiao-Yuan?! Who is he?! We did not grow up with him!!

This does lead into a horrifying idea where, as SY breaks SJ’s walls down and befriends him, SJ becomes less of a ‘scum villain’. And as he loses the title, then he gets more memories of ‘his brother’ back from childhood. Idk, that level of manipulation, especially where they can’t do anything about it, sounds horrific lol

(I did think of a funnier thing as I was writing this where the title of ‘wife’ was also excluded. It wouldn’t change much, because not many wives would have come into contact with SY but that does mean a couple of things.

1) NYY has no idea who all her martial siblings are talking about. Shizun’s nice brother? Since when??? At least A-Luo has also not met him.

2) LMY has no idea when her brother had gotten this crush, but are we sure this guy is even real? Don’t get her wrong, the idea of falling in love with your hated rival’s sibling sounds romantic, but she has never in her life heard LQG talk about this guy before. And apparently they were disciples together! Does her brother just not tell her things, or is he making things up? LQG, on his part, insists he had mentioned SY just last week. Also, he didn’t have a crush on his hated rival’s sibling, thank you very much!

Man’s QHT would only know about SJ. She sees him together and goes… ‘who’s he?’ And SJ is like ‘Thank you! I never want to see you again, but someone else finds this weird!’

And then someone, probably OPM, pulls out a slave contact and goes ‘hmmm… but it says here both Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan were sold to the Qius…?’

QHT:……. That sounds fake, but I’ll go with it for the sake of my accusations.

SJ-Damn it!)

[mrs-kmikaelson]

Our Song and Dance¹

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: super-duper-duper long, exploitation of minors, forced prostitution, unrequited love, complicated relationships, violence, death, mental health issues, canadian spelling lol, and i make up some names (lmk if i missed smth) Words: 19.7K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: i alr have this finished, but it was way too long to post in one part (as you can see) so i split it up into three parts. this one goes from pre-hunger games to right before the quell. had this idea in my head as soon as i finished thg, so i hope u enjoy!

Y/N Y/L/N, victor of the 67th Hunger Games. You were from district 4, one of the youngest victors that not only your district has ever had, but also all of Panem. Of course, you weren’t the youngest; that title belonged to none other than Finnick Odair.

A man you hated with a passion and, frankly, a man who didn’t like you very much either.

You could still remember the night you met.

Snow was droning on and on, giving a speech about something you couldn’t care less about. It was all lies, anyway, and you were only gonna end up in some rich man’s bed tonight, so you’d prefer to go through that interaction as drunk as you could be. With that thought, you downed the rest of your flute.

“Ah, careful, Princess.” Before you even saw the person, you knew it was him. His voice was so easily recognizable, even though you had never met, not even after living in the same district, then the Victors’ Village, or even at these little Capitol parties. 

Finnick.

You turned, a faux smile on your face that he fully reciprocated. “Snow wouldn’t want the Capitol’s pride and joy to be under the influence,” he said, teasing but with an undertone that put you off.

You didn’t give a damn what Snow thought, but you weren’t gonna say that, especially not in his own home. Instead, you gave him the smile you gave the rest of Panem and directed the topic of conversation away from the President. “I won my Games, Finnick. Trust me, I’m not a lightweight.” Oh, but you wish you were. You wish you could get so drunk that you’d forget who you were entirely.

A part of you felt bad: twenty-three other people died while you walked out of the arena, and yet you wanted nothing more than for your life to end. A part of you wondered if the great Finnick Odair ever felt this way, either, but it wouldn’t be good small talk to ask.

Finnick’s grin only widened. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

Your eyes just so imperceptibly narrowed. “Likewise.”

He started to walk away, but he suddenly paused like he forgot something, leaning closer to you. Your breath got caught in your throat when you felt his on your neck. Your eyes locked, and all of a sudden, you wondered how it was possible that you never noticed how beautiful his eyes were. 

“May the odds be ever in your favour, darling,” he whispered, and then he walked away without giving you another glance.

That night, Finnick didn’t leave your mind. It wasn’t until there was a resident of the Capitol lying on top of you that you stopped thinking about him. When you were in that position, you stopped thinking about everything, really.

When you walked out of your hotel room, done with your little job, Finnick was brought back to the forefront of your mind as your eyes met his. He looked like he was in the same state as you, also having been leaving a room. He looked surprised to see you.

You stared at him for a moment, but then you let yourself disappear down the hallway before he could say anything.

You knew what that meant; you knew it wasn’t his own room that he was leaving. When you got to your own room, you realized you were much more alike than you thought. You supposed that you couldn’t be surprised; Finnick was desirable, so of course Snow would put him up for sale.

You were in the exact same boat.

Since that night, you saw him in a different light.

You two didn’t talk when you got back home, no, but at your next Capitol event, you decided that you’d refuse to leave him alone, to leave someone who was going through the same thing as you to their own devices. That’s what you told yourself, but deep down, you just didn’t want to suffer in silence, either.

So you went and found him after a night with another Capitol pig. Standing outside, hands in his pockets, he looked so calm, but you saw a storm brewing in his eyes that only few could ever decipher.

You went and stood next to him, even though it was freezing cold out. He glanced over at you, and then his face became surprised, not surprise at you being there, but at you being there with him. Neither of you said anything; it was either that you were too afraid of a jabberjay overhearing or of yourselves. You just stood there in a comfortable silence.

You’d learn that, with Finnick, sometimes doing nothing could mean everything.

The two of you went on to do this every time you were there until, slowly, you graduated from just silence to holding each other. Oh, Finnick Odair was a cocky asshole, but when you were in the Capitol, he wasn’t him and you weren’t you. You were just two people that needed comfort, and that was enough.

You still didn’t talk, though, and when you were at home, you didn’t communicate at all. That was why you were surprised when you answered your door to see him standing on the other side.

Finnick went back to being Finnick, striding into your home without so much as an invitation. This caused you to roll your eyes, but they suddenly widened at his words. “Caesar Flickerman is on TV, saying that we’re dating.”

If you were drinking something, you would’ve spit it out. “What?” An incredulous look was painted onto your face.

Finnick, on the other hand, was a little more stoic, not exactly the charmer he was on television or in Capitol balls, but you could easily guess why—and if you hadn’t, then he was gonna tell you, anyways. “You know what this means.” He looked you in the eye, jaw clenched. “Two of Snow’s best—the Prince and Princess of Panem—dating? It’s the last thing he wants.”

“Finnick-”

“No, he won’t be able to sell us if we’re together, and if he can’t sell us, then he’ll start killing the people we love.” This was the first time either of you were even acknowledging the situation you were in.

You felt stung for some reason, even though you didn’t love Finnick—and he didn’t love you. But, deep down, no matter how much you tried to repress it, you knew there was something between you, so hearing him speak to you this way, like you were just nothing, hurt.

However, you got over your feelings quickly, the same way you always had. You moved your thoughts away from your heart and started thinking with your head. You were quiet for a second until you let out a soft gasp, like a light bulb went off in your head.

This time, you made eye contact with Finnick effortlessly. “What if this is exactly what we need?” You asked, a glint in your eye that he hadn’t seen before.

The blond scoffed. “I don’t see how our families dying is exactly what we need, Y/N.”

“No- no, Finnick, you already said it.” You grabbed onto his shoulders. “The Capitol- hell, everyone already thinks we’re the Prince and Princess of Panem. If we give them what they want, then- then we’d be unstoppable.” You paused to let him weigh in, but he only stared heavily at you, not a trace of what he was thinking on display, so you continued, “Snow and all of those Capitol motherfuckers will eat this shit up, Finnick. And then we’ll be free.”

You were trying not to show any emotion, either, but you couldn’t help it. At the mere thought of freedom, something you never thought was possible, you felt so many different things at once. While you were holding your feelings on your sleeve, Finnick was less easy to read.

But, in seconds, you knew exactly how he felt.

“We will never be free, Y/N.”

He walked out after that, leaving you alone in your living room. He’d never know it, but you stayed in that same spot for three hours, staring at where he once stood. His words had awakened something in you, the part of yourself that’d been thrown into the Hunger Games at only fifteen-years-old. 

At the time, you thought you were going to die. You were hopeless, but after you won, you realized there was hope after all. You could still make it. Even as Snow allowed your body to be violated, your mind to deteriorate, you still had hope. But Finnick’s words brought back that frightened little girl in you that you thought died.

You’d later realize just how lucky you were that he buried her again. He came back and told you that he’d do it, and as easily as he brought that little girl back to life, he drowned her.

It wasn’t easy at first, pretending to be in love. You didn’t know the first thing about it, but Finnick helped you as if he’d been doing it all his life.

“C’mon, Y/N, it’s gonna be fine-”

“No, it’s not gonna be fine. Caesar’s gonna call us out immediately- and if he doesn’t, then Snow will-”

“Y/N.” Finnick cut off your nervous ramblings with a stern calling of your name. Even him saying your name was still weird to you. You weren’t used to so much conversation with the victor, but now you were gonna have to pretend to love him. “We’re gonna be fine.”

You weren’t convinced, and he saw that with the twitching of your fingers. You knew Finnick was a great actor, and normally you were, too, but this situation was unlike any other that you’d ever been in. It was foreign territory for you.

“Look,” he grabbed onto your hand, “whenever you get nervous up there, you just hold my hand, alright? You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m right here.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say your heart skipped a beat. If you didn’t know any better, you’d even say you felt a spark when his skin met yours.

For a second, you pretended that you weren’t pretending. You pretended that you were holding hands because you were two kids in love, not because you had to survive. You pretended you were never in The Games, that you never killed so ruthlessly just to live without truly living. You pretended that you weren’t you, and Finnick wasn’t Finnick, and you were holding hands just because, not because you were about to go on TV and lie.

But that second ended far too quickly as you pulled your hand out of his grasp, nodding. “Okay,” you took a deep breath, repeating his words to yourself, “we’re gonna be okay.”

“Of course, we are. Now tell me again how we met.”

When the time came for the actual interview, you never let Finnick’s hand go.

The experience became more familiar to you as you went on. It was the same as any other show you’d put on for the Capitol. When you were younger, you dreamed of being a storyteller.

Now, you told stories of a life of yours that’d never existed.

Finnick and you were thrusted into the public eye, reciting the same stories day after day. It almost felt like it was actually real, and sometimes, you wished it was.

He’d look at you with a look of love in his eyes in front of all of the cameras, touching you tenderly. Oh, he was a wonderful liar. He even made you believe it for a second, too. But you knew that no such thing would ever happen.

Finnick Odair would never fall for a girl like you. Even if you were slowly falling for him.

During nights alone, you’d marvel at the turn of events. Finnick was once a man that you hated, but now look at you. You didn’t even know if you were faking it anymore. But it is fake, you’d remind yourself. He doesn’t love you, and you won’t love him.

You weren’t gonna let yourself love him. Truth be told, you were never gonna let yourself love anybody in the first place. Loving someone only made a new liability, a new weakness for the Capitol to exploit, but you could not love Finnick.

You’d been through a lot; your heart had taken many blows and survived, but you knew loving Finnick would only one day break it into a million little pieces. Still, it’s not like he made it easy.

You were lying in your bed- your shared bed with Finnick. Since announcing that you were dating, you moved in with him. You both decided it’d be easier to hide it all that way, easier for the public to believe, too. Sharing a bed was his idea—“just in case,” he’d said.

You wanted to object, but what would you even tell him? That you were afraid of falling in love with him? You would never even put the mere idea into his head. So you went along with it.

It was funny, though: you never went to bed alone, but that’s still how it felt. Being next to him, under the covers… it didn’t make you as warm as you hoped it would.

He didn’t live with anyone else. From what you gathered, Mags, your shared mentor, was his only family. His parents died of sickness early on; Mags took him in and kept him alive, all the way up until he was sent to The Games. Finnick didn’t get sappy with you often, but you knew that he couldn’t lose her.

What he was doing for Snow, he was doing for Mags. You thought Mags was the only person he cared about, but you learned that this wasn’t true. There was one other person who he was close to, who he’d do anything to keep safe. That person was Annie Cresta.

You met her once. She was beautiful and sweet, so you understood immediately why Finnick was in love with her. He never talked to you about her, but you could tell just from how he looked at her that she was the light of his life, even if she herself wasn’t aware of that.

Annie was good, the perfect girl for Finnick. She didn’t come with all the baggage you had, she wasn’t as rude, and she always knew what to say. You would’ve wanted them together, too, if it weren’t for the fact that Finnick was becoming your Annie. He was becoming your person, and so it killed you to know that not only was he in love with another girl, but he was also unhappy.

He’d never be happy with you. While you wished you could spare him the torment and just let him be with her, you had people you cared about, too, and he was now also on that list. So your job was to keep you all alive, not happy.

The door to your bedroom opened, interrupting your train of thought. You faced away from the entrance, but you knew it was Finnick. He had perfected soundless footsteps, even though you weren’t in an arena anymore. But you supposed you were still fighting for your lives, anyway.

He climbed into bed, letting out a big exhale when his back hit the mattress. You didn’t greet him, nor did he greet you, even though he knew you were awake. You’d gone through this whole song and dance already. You had to pretend in front of the cameras; you weren’t gonna do that in here, too.

The two of you were silent. This wasn’t a silence like before when you stood together in the Capitol after those horrible nights. This was a silence that was suffocating.

Things were never the same after you decided to go through with this charade. Maybe you were almost friends before, but now you were allies at most, just there to help the other survive. Oh, you wished you could be friends, but life was never so kind.

As if he could hear you begging for companionship, he whispered, “Y/N?”

Your breath hitched. “Yes?”

There was a beat of silence before his response. You wondered what his face looked like, but you wouldn’t dare turn around. “Can we- can we just be together tonight?”

Out of all the things he could’ve said, that didn’t even make your list. You sharply inhaled. Finnick didn’t sound like Finnick at all. He sounded small, and vulnerable, and scared, all states that he’d never let you see him in. But he was.

“What do you mean?” You didn’t turn around. “We are together.”

So unlike Finnick, he stammered, “No, I mean- can I- I want to hold you.”

If this were the dance you compared it to in your head, then you’d be stumbling over your own feet. He’d never asked about anything like that before. In fact, Finnick never even seemed to like you or this predicament much. Sure, you interested him, and maybe you were friends, but you knew that if he could’ve pick anyone else to dance this dance with, he would’ve.

You wondered what brought him to this point. Maybe it had something to do with Annie, but at that moment, you couldn’t bother thinking about it. He’d never know it, but you could never say no to him.

So you turned around and let him wrap his arm around you. But little did he know, you obliged not just to comfort him, but also yourself.

You’d fall asleep in Finnick’s arms every night after that. 

You’d always been so independent, so alone, that you forgot what it felt like to lean on someone, even if it was just for a little while in the dead of night. But when Finnick held you, sleep came easier and nightmares came less.

He had no idea that he became your knight in shining armour; he never meant to, but he did. Soon after you started “dating,” Snow left you alone. You still attended Capitol parties, still mentored kids every year, but you no longer found yourself in bed with members of Snow’s cabinet, and neither did Finnick.

It was easier once it stopped, but you still had to grapple with the pain of what had already happened to you; all of this didn’t even take into account The Games. Sure, you were done, but you still had to come back once a year and prepare a kid to kill or be killed. Nothing dredged up old memories like that did.

Doing it with him was what got you through it. When you lost a kid, Finnick was there to hold you and reassure you and himself that it wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t have done much more to stop it. At times like those especially, you had to reel yourself in and remind yourself that, yes, he cared for you, but he wasn’t in love with you.

There were times that every bone in your body told you the exact opposite, that Finnick’s actions told you the exact opposite. Sometimes, he’d kiss you for the cameras and made you fall for it, too.

God, you were a team, such a great team. Would it be so horrible of you to assume you could be more?

You’d later realize that, yes, it was.

Because at the reaping for the 70th Hunger Games, Annie Cresta’s name was called and your little fantasy of a relationship with Finnick was shattered to pieces.

His usually calm demeanour was broken as he ran toward her as soon as you both got on the train, engulfing her in a hug and soothing her while she sobbed. You just watched from the sidelines, a frown on your face. You wished you were frowning because your dear friend Annie was just chosen to be in a fight to the death, but you were frowning because Finnick had never hugged you like that.

There were no cameras here; this wasn’t for show. He never looked at you like that when there weren’t any cameras around.

You felt like you were intruding on a private moment, even though you were just standing there, even though you were supposed to be his girlfriend, not Annie. A girlfriend would’ve probably cleared her throat, interrupted the interaction, but you couldn’t find the courage to do that.

Instead, you waited for the moment to end and walked over to her yourself when Finnick stepped away, giving her a tight hug as if she hadn’t just brought you to the brink of tears. But that didn’t matter. Annie could possibly die, so your little feelings for Finnick were pretty insignificant at the moment.

You tossed those very feelings to the side, directing all your attention to preparing your tribute. Finnick was trying to explain everything, but he was too worried, so you took over for him, pushing forth all your efforts while he focused on the boy that’d been reaped from your district.

You always tried your best with the tributes, always, but this wasn’t just any tribute. This was Annie Cresta, your friend and the love of Finnick’s life. You needed her to make it out of this alive—Finnick wouldn’t survive without her.

You gave her every piece of advice you could think of during that trip, digging through your memory for things you might’ve even forgotten. You wished you could help the boy in the same way, but there could only be one victor in these Games, and it had to be her.

Remember that these are games, Annie. Don’t worry about the killing once you’re in the arena; you need to treat it like a game, like the other tributes are just pieces that need to be knocked off the board, you told her. You hated every word that came out of your mouth, but she needed to hear it. She needed to overcome the shock now so she didn’t get choked up during the actual Games like you did.

When the time finally came for you to send the tributes off into the arena, you hugged yourself, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. You imagined that it was Finnick’s arms that were around you, but you weren’t gonna ask him to comfort you. He was the one that needed comforting, but you knew he wouldn’t accept it, so you didn’t offer.

Instead, you worked your ass off to get Annie sponsors, to get people to like her as if they didn’t already. You didn’t sleep for days, and neither did Finnick until he accidentally fell asleep for a few hours one day.

You both watched as she took the tips you’d given her, using them in her own way. She was small, but she was smart and she picked up on how to play the game quickly.

Only when the last tribute was dead did a sigh of relief finally leave you. Your shoulders slumped as you sat in front of the TV. Finnick’s muttering fell upon deaf ears as static filled your brain. She made it, you thought. She’s okay.

But that didn’t make life any more okay.

After all, nobody ever really won The Games.

“Annie- Annie, it’s alright-” 

“No, it’s not!” You heard something break, like it had thrown it to the ground. When you walked further into your house, your guess was proven right. Finnick and Annie stood in your living room, the former worried and the latter frantic, pieces of a broken vase all over the ground.

“Nothing is okay, Finn! Nothing! Do you hear me- nothing is okay!” The redhead was pacing around with your so called boyfriend trying to stop and calm her down. They were both so panicked that neither of them noticed you, and you didn’t announce your presence, either.

You only stood from the side, just like on that Capitol train. The Annie that went into that arena was innocent. She was eighteen, but she was still more of a child than either of you ever got the chance to be. Now that she won, she didn’t look so innocent anymore.

She wore a look that was so familiar to you. She was alive, but Annie had never looked more like a ghost of herself.

“Annie, please-” Finnick’s voice cracked mid-sentence. He kept trying to get close to her, but she moved away every time. The tears in his eyes made yours watery, too. You had never seen him look so broken, not even as you stood in the Capitol together those cold nights after being used.

If you weren’t sure of how much Finnick loved Annie, you were now.

“No, no, nothing is okay!” She screamed, tears streaming down her face. She suddenly stopped, letting out a sob before collapsing onto the ground. Finnick ran to her right away, pulling her close and rocking her as she repeated the same thing over and over.

You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until you felt the tear falling onto your cheek, wiping at it immediately and turning around to walk away as quietly as you possibly could. You weren’t gonna just stand by and do nothing while Annie fell apart and Finnick cut himself trying to put the pieces back together. You couldn’t.

You found yourself in the kitchen, putting a kettle on the stove to distract yourself. Your eyes zeroed in on it as you tried to block out the sound of Annie’s crying, trying not to cry yourself. At one point, you succeeded, because you couldn’t hear anything anymore.

You don’t know how long you stood there, but you were eventually broken out of your trance by a hand reaching out in front of you to turn off the stove, moving the kettle. It was only now that you realized how loudly it was whistling.

You turned to see the hand belonged to Finnick who now poured the hot water into your expensive tea cups. They were a gift given to you by a patron of the Capitol, an old man with kids and a wife. He was somewhat of a regular of yours, and so he gave you that tea set to try and make himself feel better for what he was doing, along with many other gifts.

You never told Finnick any of this. You wondered if he would so readily pull them out if he knew where they came from.

He wordlessly put the tea bags into the cups, sliding one over on the island to where you stood. Then he brought the cup to his lips, taking a sip of the scalding liquid like it was nothing. You ignored your disbelief and the rational part of your brain, picking the cup to do the same thing.

When the tea met your tongue, it burned, even as it went down your throat, but you still went back in for a second sip, anyway. This pain was able to distract you from all the thoughts bouncing around in your head, and so that made it feel like it was worth it. You wondered if this was Finnick’s logic, too.

You didn’t say anything for a long while, didn’t ask about Annie or where she went. You knew he must’ve known that you heard what happened, but he didn’t mention it, either. You assumed that she fell asleep.

You wished you could fall asleep so easily, too.

Your song kept playing as you both danced around the same topics, standing together silently as your world crumbled. You danced, and danced, and danced, until your tea cups were empty, but the song was still playing.

Finnick’s voice cut through the silence of your music effortlessly, even though he was still so quiet.

“Sometimes, I think she would’ve been better off if she died.” You slowly brought your head up to meet his eyes, but they were aimed at the cup in his hand. He looked nothing like the Prince of Panem, the charming man who always had something witty to say. No, he looked beaten down, just as lifeless as Annie. Maybe you looked as lifeless as you felt, too; maybe you were all so unaware of how broken you seemed.

You didn’t know what to say to his confession. So you didn’t say anything at all.

You’d never know where that conversation would’ve went, because in seconds, Finnick collected your cups, put them in the sink, and then he left you standing there.

His words from before echoed through your head. We will never be free, Y/N.

And maybe he was right.

Annie was back home, but she never really came back from that arena—none of you did. Hell, you were thrusted into a life you never wanted, a victor’s life, as soon as you were out. You thanked God that Annie wasn’t gonna have to go through what you did; the way she was spinning out made her undesirable. At least a good thing came out of her losing it.

Oh, you were starting to find a silver-lining with everything. You had to—otherwise, you’d lose it, just like Annie. You had to find some sort of good in this situation because, otherwise, what was the point?

Time supposedly healed all wounds, but you felt like you were still bleeding. You just learned to conceal it better than others.

Before The Games, you had friends. Now you really only talked to Finnick, and you two didn’t talk much, either. Every now and then, you’d see Annie and Mags, but they weren’t your people. And your family… well, how close could you be with them after what happened? You weren’t the same girl your mother raised.

She could barely even look at you anymore.

But you couldn’t think about any of this. If you did, you’d fall apart, and you couldn’t do that. You had a role to play, an image to protect—for your safety, for your family’s safety, for his safety.

You couldn’t afford to break down like that in your living room and throw things. You wanted to, so badly, but you didn’t have that luxury.

So your song kept playing, and you danced along with it.

Finnick’s walls went back up, too. His charisma was like a light bulb that briefly flickered, but it was back now. He was dancing, too. But, without even realizing it, you both held each other tighter at night, as if you were trying not to lose the other to the tornado that was your life.

However, when you woke up, you both pretended the tornado didn’t even exist.

Annie wasn’t one for pretending. Oh, she got wrapped up into the tornado the second she was declared a victor and there was no saving her anymore. Yes, she would’ve been better off dead, maybe you all would’ve been, but if you thought about this for too long, if you let the song stop, then you’d get caught in the cyclone, too.

You pretended for a year, attending Capitol galas with a smile on your face, getting interviewed right next to Finnick with his hand in yours, acting like you were the picture perfect couple. He spoke about you like he knew you like the back of his hand, but truth be told, he didn’t know you at all; he barely ever tried to. You didn’t blame him, though; it was hard to try to talk to someone when the music was so loud.

Then came the 71st Hunger Games, and you were mentors again. Meeting the tributes, it was almost like the music stopped- almost. The girl was quiet but angry, and she reminded you so much of yourself. The boy kept cracking jokes that she didn’t laugh at, jokes that were probably inappropriate for a time like this, but you knew he wasn’t doing it to be an ass. This was his way of coping.

He reminded you of Finnick.

Looking at these kids was like looking into a mirror. On the last day of training, he finally got a reaction out of her, made her smile with a faint blush on her cheeks. Oh, these kids should’ve been laughing together in the diner back home, not on their way to die.

They were too young and too innocent. It makes you wonder if things would’ve been different if you and Finnick had met before The Games. Would that have made soothed the heartbreak?

You didn’t know. But when you saw that boy crying as he held her in that arena, blood pouring onto him from her stab-wound, you knew that heartbreak was what he felt.

Too young. They were too young.

The boy died too. He didn’t even put up a fight.

These kids were just kids, and they died young.

Just like you and Finnick did.

You sat in your room at the Capitol, swirling your scotch around in your glass. It was a crystal glass so beautiful you knew it could’ve only been crafted by hand, but you didn’t want to admire it; you wanted to throw it at the wall.

Their names were Delta and Aalto. Aalto was the more talkative one; he said he dreamed of opening his own bakery one day, right in the middle of the district with food that everyone could afford and enjoy.

He’d never get to do that now.

And Delta- she didn’t know what she wanted out of life yet. She never got the chance to figure it out.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

The door to the room opened, making you look up from the liquor in your hand to see Finnick walking into the room. He looked defeated. Of course, he was better at hiding it than you were, but you knew how to read him better now, after all these years.

The bed dipped as he sat down next to you. You held your glass out, almost like a peace offering, and he took it without much thought, downing it in one go.

You sat there together the same way you had many times before, not saying a word. But this time felt different. It felt like there was something you were supposed to say. So you turned to look at Finnick, trying to see if he felt the same weight, only to see that he was already looking at you.

You could tell just by his eyes that he felt it, too. He opened his mouth, then closed it like he’d lost his train of thought. When you met him, you never thought you’d see the day when Finnick was speechless.

Look at how wrong you were.

You opened your mouth after a few seconds, wanting to articulate your feelings in some way, but Finnick’s lips slammed against yours before you get anything out. Without thinking, you kissed back; it felt like second-nature to you.

This wasn’t the first time you’d kissed, but he had never kissed you like this, so passionately, not a camera in sight. He was kissing you like you were air and he’d been holding his breath for so long, like you were the treasure he’d been searching for and he didn’t want to let go.

It felt like nothing you’d ever experienced.

When you eventually pulled away for air and opened your eyes, you were brought back to the real world. There was something you were supposed to say. But you quickly disregarded it, pulling him back in for another kiss before he could notice the way you were looking at him.

Yes, there was something you were supposed to say. But you couldn’t put it into words.

So you hoped that this kiss said everything that you couldn’t.

You were both grieving, and you were both there. And you knew that Finnick didn’t like you like that, so you weren’t gonna get your hopes up. This meant nothing, even if it felt like everything for you when it was happening.

He was the only person you’d ever done anything like this with before. You did things with those people Snow set you up with, but that didn’t count. You were doing this because you wanted to. You didn’t know if this was his first time or not, but you weren’t gonna ask. You did everything but talk for the rest of the night.

When you woke up, it was still dark out and Finnick was still asleep. You stared at him for a few seconds, his fluffy blond hair that you messed up, his swollen lips. He looked so peaceful like this; you couldn’t bear to wake him up and ruin that, bring him back to this nightmare.

So you got up as quietly as you could, wrapping yourself in a robe and closing the door to the bedroom, walking into the living room. The rooms the Capitol provided the victors were beautiful, but never beautiful enough to make you forget about the ugly reason that you were here.

You sat on the couch, exhaling and leaning back. You were gonna sit there in silence, but your song kept playing, and the record was skipping, and you were starting to get a headache, so you turned on the TV.

Without having to change the channel at all, you were immediately met with the news, Caesar Flickerman’s face on the flat screen. It wasn’t long before you realized why he was so excited: the Hunger Games were over. Someone won.

Caesar’s attitude made your mood go sour. He was behaving like twenty-three children weren’t just killed. It didn’t matter if they died of starvation, dehydration, an animal, or actually another tribute—it was all murder, and the Capitol was the perpetrator. It disgusted you that there were people who found enjoyment in watching these Games, Caesar Flickerman included. They’d pretend to be sympathetic, but at the end of the day, you were all just circus animals to them.

The victor’s face came onto the TV, and you immediately recognized her from the rankings. Johanna Mason. Caesar kept talking, explaining how Johanna had managed to cause so many people to be enamoured of her, and you suddenly felt sick.

Snow was gonna jump at this opportunity. He was gonna use her, too.

You turned off the TV, going back to your room and getting back into bed like you’d never left. Your song came back on, and you went back to preferring to listen to it instead of your own thoughts. You weren’t gonna think about Johanna much longer; there wasn’t any point.

There was nothing you could do.

The next time you woke up and it was actually morning, you were surprised to see that Finnick was still there. While you were sleeping, he managed to snake his arms around you. 

You didn’t get up, even though there were Capitol duties to attend to.

You stayed in bed and pretended that you were a normal couple, that maybe Finnick actually felt something for you, that you weren’t in the Capitol right now, that the world wasn’t so fucked up, that you weren’t so fucked up. But you didn’t pretend for long, eventually getting up and facing the world that you didn’t want to be apart of but had been sucked into.

He didn’t tell you this, but he was pretending, too.

You both went to the gatherings you had to go to, talked to the people you had to talk to, kept smiles on your faces, and shook Snow’s hand, even though it made you want to puke. You endured it all—you both did. The Prince and Princess of Panem…

You realized it was true what they said, heavy is the head that wears the crown. This figurative crown was weighing you down; you wondered if it’d be so coveted if people got the chance to feel how you felt.

Then you went back home, even if it didn’t really feel like a home to you. It was still all you had. But Finnick kept surprising you.

Your dance suddenly changed. The song was still playing, but the dance was different, almost like that night you’d spent together had actually meant something.

You started having dinner together every night. Before, you often forgot to eat, but now how could you? You were beginning to look forward to your daily dinners; there wasn’t much more to look forward to in the life you led.

He made it hard for you not to fall even more in love with him.

You two still didn’t talk during dinner, but it almost did feel normal, like you were a family- like you could be a family.

And then the dance changed again, and that dream felt even more real.

You pulled your chair out at your dinner table, sitting down across from Finnick. You were both dressed “down” in more comfortable clothes, but you knew there was some people in the district that still couldn’t afford them. That bothered you, but when you had dinner, most of your worries were pushed to the back of your mind.

When you two had dinner, you just enjoyed the dance.

You were a few minutes into dinner when you noticed that Finnick wasn’t eating but he was staring at you. He hadn’t stared at you like that since when you first met, so curiously, like you were a secret he wanted to be let in on.

You couldn’t ignore his stare, even if you tried. However, you tried to act nonchalant. “Is there something you want to say?” You quizzed, twirling another bite of pasta like you were unaffected by his gaze.

Finnick responded in the same beat, so much like the Finnick that was charismatic and lively, not the quiet one you normally lived with. “Something I want to ask you, actually.”

“Oh,” you said, immediately kicking yourself at how stupid you sounded. “Well, ask away.” He didn’t need to be told twice.

“What’s your favourite colour?” 

You were caught off guard by his question, blinking like you were trying to figure out if you just imagined him saying him that or if he really did. He blinked back at you but never faltered.

“What?”

He repeated himself, slower this time. “What is your favourite colour?” You blinked again when you realized he was being totally serious. “You know, colours, like a rainbow-”

“I know what colours are, Finnick.”

“Ohhhh.” His eyes got big as if he thought you actually didn’t know what a rainbow was. “Sorry, you were just looking at me like I had said the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. So what’s your favourite colour?”

You couldn’t stop the corners of your lips going up as his grin just got wider. God, you hadn’t seen him smile like that in so long. It actually looked real.

You thought about it for a second, looking right into his eyes when you came up with an answer. “It’s blue, not really dark or light either. Sort of green- it’s close to grey, too.”

He looked at you for a few seconds before blurting, “Y/N, that sounds like the least vibrant shade of blue I’ve ever heard of.”

You laughed. “It’s vibrant to me!” He laughed, too, shaking his head like you were crazy. That shade of blue that you described was more vibrant than any other blue you’d ever seen. You could never tired of looking at it whenever you looked into Finnick’s eyes.

When the laughter died down, you asked him the same question. “Okay, now what’s your favourite colour?”

He shrugged. “Don’t have one.”

You scoffed, “Oh, come. on. You have to have a favourite colour; you can’t be that boring.”

“That boring? I’m not boring at all,” he argued, a look of faux offence on his face.

You snorted. “I beg to differ.”

“I can make you beg a lot more if you don’t take that back.” Your eyes immediately went wide and, against your will, a faint redness spread on your cheeks.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said, crossing his arms. He looked pleased at the reaction he got out of you. “Take it back.”

You scoffed again, but you weren’t sure if it was because of your stubbornness or because you wanted to see how far you could push him. “I’m not taking anything back.”

He just stared at you for a few seconds before flashing that famous smirk of his, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Really?”

You crossed your arms, too, nodding. “Mhm.”

He chuckled. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning.”

And then he spent the rest of the night showing you just how boring he wasn’t.

The day after, you didn’t wake up dejected but instead with a smile on your face. You didn’t get out of bed at all, staying in Finnick’s arms. You felt giddy, like a school girl. There were no thoughts of his lack of feelings for you, Annie, or The Games. You just laid there and enjoyed the moment.

It didn’t even feel like you were pretending.

When Finnick woke up, you did it all over again. You ended up staying in bed all day together, cancelling your plans.

And when the time came to get out of bed, to go back to the real world, the music didn’t go back to normal. It was more upbeat now. You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the beat to drop, but it didn’t.

Finnick didn’t pretend like you two sleeping together never happened. In fact, you two kept doing it almost every day. You actually had conversations during dinner. You learned basic things about him that you hadn’t known in all of the time you were living together.

He made you laugh often. You stopped crying so much.

Is this what happiness feels like? you wondered. If it was, you never wanted anything different. Whatever Finnick felt for you, it didn’t matter. As long as he kept making you happy, it didn’t matter.

You were so in love with him that it stopped mattering if he reciprocated your feelings. You didn’t want anything to ruin this, what you had. Your relationship was the most special thing you’d ever had, even if you didn’t know what to call it, so you were gonna do your damn best to hold onto it.

The things he’d say in front of the cameras felt real, then the things he did when you were alone made you believe it even more. Whatever this was between you, it felt real.

So real.

You were stirring something on the stove when two arms snaked around your waist, tickling you, making a squeal fly from your lips. “Finnick!” You screeched, trying to suppress your giggles as you turned around. The culprit (who was shirtless) didn’t look guilty at all, a shit-eating grin on his face. You shoved his shoulder. “I am trying to cook us breakfast.”

He snorted. “Yeah, trying and failing.” You shoved him again, causing him to laugh. “I’m sorry, you can’t cook!”

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. “I’ll have you know, I can cook very well, actually.”

He wrapped his arms around you again. “You know, you’re cute when you pout.”

“I’m not pouting!” You exclaimed, but a blush still arose on your cheeks that Finnick noticed right away. It was almost like he was always watching for those types of things, always trying to say or do something to get you red.

“You’re even cuter when you blush.” 

Your blush worsened, but you weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction of your defeat. “I’m not blushing. We’re in a kitchen, and it’s hot.”

He pulled you closer to him, grin widening. “Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart, about your blushing or your cooking.” He glanced behind you. “Oh, look, burnt food.”

Your eyes went wide, immediately turning around. You groaned when you saw the brown eggs and the trail of smoke coming from them. “It’s all your fault, Finn, you distracted me.”

He gave your head a kiss, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “Sure, darling, whatever you say.” Luckily, you were turned away from him so he couldn’t see how your cheeks reddened. You still weren’t used to the pet names, even though Finnick seemed to adore them. “Let’s leave the cooking to me from now on.”

You lightly scoffed, “Whatever.” He kissed your cheek before you started walking away, planning to sit on the couch while you waited for him to cook the food. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was probably smug.

“Who messes up eggs?” he muttered under his breath once you were a few feet away.

“I heard that, Finnick!” you shouted, but he only let out a loud laugh.

You shook your head at him, plopping down onto the couch in the adjoining living room and turning the TV on, but it was really just background noise. You found it much more enticing to watch Finnick cook. The way he moved so swiftly looked effortless; he knew what he was doing, that was sure. And it didn’t help that he was shirtless.

You discreetly stared at him for a while—or, you thought you were being discreet. Without looking up from what he was doing, he teased, “You know that I can feel you ogling at me, right?”

You went red as a tomato. “Shut up, Finnick!” you shrieked, turning back to the TV as if you even knew what was playing. His laugh boomed and you turned up the volume to tune it out, only causing him to laugh even louder.

Even though you were thoroughly embarrassed that he’d caught you staring at him, a smile still found its way onto your face. Around Finnick, it was hard not find a reason to smile.

You’d be content if you didn’t do anything for the rest of your life but wake up to him every day.

You spent many more mornings like that together, and lunches, and dinners, and everything in between. You exchanged jokes and playful banter constantly. Finnick really did make your cheeks hurt.

But he knew when to be serious.

There were still nights when you’d wake up from nightmares, and he’d comfort you back to sleep every time. When you caught him in a nightmare, you’d try your best to repay the favour, even though that didn’t happen often. He rarely wanted you to see him like that, so he hid his nightmares, but you did everything you could to keep him happy while he was awake to make up for it.

When you went to the Capitol, all of the darkness crept back in, squeezing in through the cracks of the walls that you’d built—for both of you. But you kept each other grounded. You weren’t alone.

Once, he had to talk you back from the edge as you had a panic attack in the bathroom. He locked the door and stayed there with you until you calmed down. You told him that you saw someone you hadn’t seen up close in a while, an old patron, and that just opened the floodgates. You saw his hands ball up into fists; he tried to hide the anger on his face, but you saw it and you understood it. 

He was angry at the Capitol, and so were you. He’d been through the same things you had, and that made it so much easier to cope, to have someone that understood. He understood for you and you understood for him, and so when things were bad, they at least became more okay. As long as you were there for each other, things were okay.

Meeting Johanna Mason at a later event nearly brought you right back to the brink. Her family was dead, she’d told you. And you wished you hadn’t understood so fast. You wished that none of you ever had to understand these things, that you could’ve stayed kids for longer before childhood was ripped away from you.

It’s not fair, you cried to Finnick. He killed her family. She said no, and he killed her family.

He let you cry on his shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down your back as he whispered, I know. It’s not fair, I know. But it was the world you lived in, and, unfortunately, neither of you had the power to do anything about it, even though you were the so called Prince and Princess of Panem.

So you did what you could. You were there for Johanna like how you were there for Finnick when you still didn’t know him. Both of you were there for her, teaching her the moves to your dance so she could dance with you while you were all at the Capitol together.

She was brutally honest, maybe even rude to the average onlooker, but it was what The Games did to her. Finnick and you understood that, and that led to you both forming a friendship with her. Coping with other people, people who understood, was the best painkiller that not even money could provide.

The Games were the hardest, but you went through that together, too. You trained those tributes with everything you had. You tried your best, but sometimes, not even that was enough to keep them alive. Finnick and you would grieve together. At times, he was more rational than you, reminding you that it wasn’t your fault, that these were games made to kill.

Whatever you went through, you went through it together. The good days, the bad days, the laughs, the tears—you were together every step of the way.

Things went like this for years. You really were a team, and nothing could convince you otherwise this time. You loved him more and more each day, but you never told him that; you didn’t need to, and you didn’t need him to love you, either. Being there, being together was good enough.

Your song never got old. You were so in sync as you danced. Oh, you never would’ve thought that Finnick Odair of all people would not only make your life bearable, but also joyful.

You were fake boyfriend and girlfriend, and yeah those lines started to blur, but you also became best friends over time. 

Finnick and you lied together in bed, the TV going on in the background. Your head was on his chest as he pet your hair. It was your seventh time doing this mentor thing, but it never seemed to get easier.

Your tributes were promising, but they still died early on, even though you both got them as many sponsors as you could. Mentors were usually down in the lobby, talking to sponsors and watching The Games with everyone else, but after your tributes died, there was no point.

So you went upstairs, and you both just lied there. It was one of those times where neither of you had to say anything. You were together, alive together, and that was enough.

Listening to Finnick’s heartbeat could calm you down in any situation. You must’ve been doing something to help him, too, because his heartbeat was steady. You stayed like that for a bit until he moved a bit, murmuring under his breath, “What?”

He sat up, making you sit up, too, while he grabbed the remote, turning the volume up. You glanced at it and the scene immediately caught your attention. You heard the last bits of what the announcer was saying, that a rule about two victors was being annulled. Your brows furrowed; you must not have seen the part where any such thing was declared.

You recognized the tributes who you quickly realized were the last people left standing. They were the kids from district 12, the Girl on Fire and the boy in love with her.

You scoffed. “Of course, they want the star-crossed lovers to battle to the death.” You were about to turn away, refusing to indulge in the Capitol’s bullshit, but Finnick grabbed onto your arm.

“Wait.”

You stopped, turning back. The girl, Katniss, had a bow and arrow in her hands. Peeta was a few steps away from her. They were both staring at each other, Katniss looking like she didn’t know what do, but Peeta looked like he already accepted that he was going to die.

You didn’t want to watch this, watch two people fall apart on television, but for some reason, this had captured Finnick’s attention.

One of us should go home, he said. One of us has to die; they have to have their victor. Katniss was already shaking her head.

No. She dropped her arrow to the ground, walking forward. They don’t.

You tilted your head, but you understood what was happening when she pulled a handful of berries from her pocket. “Holy shit.”

Peeta grabbed her hand, rejecting the idea immediately, but she whispered, Trust me. He must’ve really been in love with her, because he did. She poured some berries into the palm of his hand, making you lean closer.

“You don’t think they’re gonna…” you trailed off, puzzled. There were people that’d killed themselves in past games, but this had never happened. There was always a victor.

Peeta hesitated, but looked sure when he looked back into Katniss’ eyes. Together? he mumbled.

She repeated his words. Together. She looked up for a second, and then you suddenly recognized the look on her face. This was a bluff.

They counted down from three, and just as they were gonna bring the berries to their mouths, the announcer frantically cut in, Stop- stop! He cleared his throat. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners… of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.

Relief flooded into Katniss’ eyes as she embraced Peeta in a hug. Shock flowed through you, and Finnick’s expression was no different.

Once you had processed the information, you couldn’t help the grin that grew on your face, disbelief and pride filling you at the same time. “They just screwed the Capitol.”

You turned to see him smirking. “Hell yeah, they did.”

And this made your Hunger Games experience just a little bit better.

Neither of you were surprised that Seneca Crane was found dead days later. He made a grave mistake, letting two victors win. Snow wouldn’t have that, and you could guess why.

What Katniss and Peeta did was causing chatter, sparking hope. People in district 4 were more hush-hush about it, but outlying districts, like 11, had gone into revolts. The Capitol must’ve been stressed, and knowing that brought you some sick form of comfort.

Katniss and Peeta were spinning their actions, making them out to be this act of love, like they couldn’t bear to live without each other, but you and Finnick saw right through it. After all, if there was anyone who could spot a fake relationship, it was you two.

However, the two love-birds flew from your mind when you got home. You were brought back to your little world, living life alongside Finnick. The urge grew to ask him what you were, if you were still in a fake relationship just like Katniss and Peeta or if this was real, as real as you felt it was, but you didn’t wanna mess up the one good thing you had going.

The truth was, you don’t know how long you would’ve made it without him.

Finnick was your lifeline, and he had no idea.

The next time you were at the Capitol, you were in the Presidential Palace for the so called biggest party of the year. It was always hosted right before the Hunger Games, so being there gave you many things to be anxious about.

But, like always, you concealed it, smiling and shaking hands with the people you came across, even as you were disgusted. Some of these people, the very people who paid for your body at sixteen, were there with their families. You wondered how they could have children and still do what they did.

You were a child, too.

Normally, Finnick would be there to calm you down, but he snuck off somewhere without telling you.

You were wandering around, trying to find him when a head of brown hair streaked with red came into your view. “Hey, Princess.”

A sigh left your lips, both out of relief that you found someone you knew and discontent at the nickname. “Hey, Jo.” You would usually make conversation with her, but you were pretty distracted, glancing around behind her. “Have you seen Finnick anywhere? I’ve been looking for him for a while now.”

When you looked back to her, a look you couldn’t decipher flashed across her face, but it was gone in an instant. “No, can’t say I have.”

For some reason, you got a weird feeling from her. It was almost like she knew something that you didn’t.

“Hey, why don’t we go grab a bite while we wait for him?” She suggested, gesturing to the buffet. “I’m starving.”

You shook your head, dazed. “I’ll catch up with you- I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”

She perked up. “I’ll go with you.”

You were quick to decline. “No, that’s fine; go eat. I’ll be back in a sec.” She was hesitant  for reasons you couldn’t fathom, but she eventually nodded, agreeing to meet you later.

You walked through the halls, passing the bathrooms and not even sparing them a glance. You didn’t really know why you lied about where you were going, but in that moment, it felt like instinct. You trusted Johanna, but you were catching the same weird vibe from countless other people. All you wanted was to find Finnick and have him tell you everything was alright.

You didn’t have to look long before you found him, outside along with many other partygoers. But he wasn’t alone. Standing next to him was a man you’d just recently seen on TV. You just couldn’t remember his name.

You made your way over to them. They cut themselves off as soon as they saw you, not letting you overhear a single detail of whatever they were talking about. You stifled the reappearance of that weird feeling that was starting to feel a lot like suspicion. “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen.”

Finnick waved you off, “No, it’s fine, sweetheart.” He pulled you into his side, kissing your temple. “This is Plutarch Heavensbee.” A lightbulb went off in your head as you looked to the man.

He was Seneca Crane’s replacement.

What the hell was Finnick doing talking to him?

“It’s an honour and a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted, holding his hand out. There was something about him that was throwing you off, not just your revelation of who he was, but you still shook his hand.

“Pleasure’s mine, Mr. Heavensbee,” you replied, smiling your umpteenth fake smile of the night. But you had an inkling that no one in the Capitol was as genuine as they seemed.

Plutarch didn’t try to stay and make small talk like the rest of the people you encountered at the Capitol, bidding you both farewell and wishing you a good night. Something told you his departure had something to do with your arrival.

Once he was out of earshot, you turned in Finnick’s arms. “Was that the new head Gamemaker?” He nodded, but didn’t offer any explanation. You furrowed your brows. “What were you talking about?” 

Finnick shrugged nonchalantly, but for some reason, he seemed tense. “He wanted to meet the youngest victor of The Games.”

You found that hard to believe, holding back a scoff. “Well, he didn’t seem too interested in meeting me.”

A smile arose on his face as he wrapped his arms back around your waist. “That is because you, darling, are not the youngest person to ever win.”

This time, you did scoff, but the tense atmosphere dissipated. “You’re a dick.”

“You love me.” Your heart nearly stopped, but you kept your composure. You did love him, more than he’d ever know.

You shook your head, acting unaffected. “C’mon, Johanna’s waiting for us by the buffet.” You tried walking away, but your faux façade of annoyance was broken by Finnick latching onto your hand and walking forward with you, chuckling.

And then the entire matter of everyone’s weird behaviour was pushed to the back of your mind.

Returning home from the Capitol was always peaceful, like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, but this time was unlike any of those other times. When you got home, the so called peace that the Capitol so delicately crafted was ripping at the seams.

The chatter from before, from when Katniss and Peeta defied the Capitol, was louder than ever. They had just gone on their victor’s tour, right before you left for the Presidential Palace, and they had apparently sparked a reaction in just about every district they visited, yours included.

You found out that district 4 had been in a revolt since Everdeen and Mellark came and gave their speech. The people were outraged. The news talked about seafood shortages due to bad weather, but the Capitol just didn’t want to let Panem know what was going on, that people were refusing work, that Peacekeepers were murdering innocent people left and right for the smallest of incidents.

When you were all caught up with what had happened, you were furious, too. You wanted to march out onto the streets and give the Capitol the finger, but Finnick pulled you back. 

“What are you gonna do, Y/N?” he questioned, not even giving you the time to answer. “You don’t even know.”

Your voice was vicious as you responded, a tone you’d never given him. You were angry, and you both knew you weren’t thinking clearly; you just didn’t care. “I don’t know right now, but I’m gonna do something, Finnick.” You tried pulling your arm away, but he was much stronger than you.

“I’m not gonna let you go out there and get yourself killed.” You could tell by his demeanour that he was angry, but not for the same reasons that you were.

You shook your head. “You of all people should understand where I’m coming from.”

His eyes went hard. “You must not know me well if you think I’d let my girlfriend kill herself.” That shut you up.

His girlfriend.

He called you his girlfriend.

You got over the shock and, suddenly, you were even more angry than before. While you could pretend all you wanted to that you lived in candy-land, the cruel reality was still there. Finnick didn’t love you. He was only playing with your emotions.

Tears built up in your eyes: sad tears, angry tears—they were everything tears. You felt everything. “I’m your girlfriend now?”

He scoffed, “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t be serious right now.”

“I am so serious right now.” 

At your deadpan, he finally let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair. A part of you felt bad that he was so stressed, but you were stressed, too. He looked like he was trying to figure out what to say when he looked back up at you. His voice was no longer harsh, but small. “Y/N, please.”

You swallowed. 

“I’m just asking you to trust me.” He grabbed onto your hands. “Please just trust me.” He was begging you.

“Trust you to do what?”

“I just need you to trust me, Y/N, please.” He held your hands tighter. “Trust me.”

Oh, it didn’t matter how angry you were, if your thoughts were set in stone. Finnick would still be able to mold you like clay. Every time.

“I trust you.”

There was something different about him, but you were too distracted to try and figure it out.

There were so many things going on.

You were with Annie when it happened. Oh, that must have been some cruel joke from the universe. You were walking through the town square, on your way to Victors’ Village with pastries from the bakery in your hands. You were slowed down by the all of the people congregating together, watching the screen.

President Snow was announcing the third Quarter Quell, and they were eating it up. You weren’t gonna do that, entertain his lunacy. You’d go the Capitol and play your role, but you weren’t gonna watch these broadcasts anymore. You weren’t gonna play along.

Finnick could explain it to you later so you’d be able to prep your tributes. The Quells were always made out to be the hallmark of The Games; they were always harder. You felt for whatever kids would have to go through them.

You felt a lot more once you realized who these tributes were gonna be.

You weren’t listening to what Snow was was saying, but his words cut through any sort of mental block you had. “On this, the third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are… to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.” 

Your stopped walking as if you’d hit a wall, the stuff in your hands falling the ground, but it was almost like you didn’t hear it. You stopped hearing anything, not Snow explaining the condition or everyone’s gasps. Your ears rang. Everything was muffled like you were underwater.

You were done. You were supposed to be done. You went through those Games, you won, and now you were supposed to be done.

He was gonna make you go through it all over again.

You were so shocked that you pinched yourself, like you were a child and this was some nightmare, and even though you didn’t wake up, even though you knew you were awake, you were still caught in a nightmare that you’d have to die to escape from.

Your senses came back to you and you spun around, pulling Annie into a tight hug the second you saw the tears streaming down her face. She muttered the same thing over and over into your shoulder.

“This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.”

She couldn’t go through this again. The Games broke her beyond repair. She couldn’t mentor because of it; she could barely ever attend any of the Capitol parties you and Finnick frequented. She would die in that arena, either mentally or physically.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Your song played on a loop in your mind, making the decision for you. You were reminded that, even though your dance may have changed, Finnick didn’t love you. He loved Annie, and he would be destroyed if she died.

You couldn’t let that happen.

You couldn’t let Mags go back into the arena, either. He needed her. These were the only people he cared about; you couldn’t let them go through this.

Then and there, you decided your fate.

You were gonna be the one to go back into the arena, and no one was gonna stop you.

When you and Annie had made it to your house, ignoring all of the looks of pity thrown your way, Finnick looked just as beaten down as you, but not surprised. You didn’t have time to analyze that.

He hugged Annie first, shooting you an apologetic look, but you didn’t understand what it was for. You knew what Annie meant to him.

You weren’t so deluded that you’d believe you came before her. Besides, she needed to be consoled more than you did. You were calm. Annie was lost right now, but you knew exactly where you were headed.

That night, once Annie left, your clothes came off, and you and Finnick had the softest sex you ever had. It was gentle, and you let yourself feel loved one last time. You let yourself be selfish and have this one thing, just one last time.

You knew that the odds of coming out of that arena were slim, so you kissed Finnick like you were gonna die the very next day. I just might, you thought. And then as you fell asleep in his arms, you pretended that everything was alright. You pretended that your dance wasn’t gonna end so soon, that you weren’t gonna sign your life away when you woke up, that Finnick really loved you, that he loved you just as much as you loved him. You pretended one last time.

The next day, you and all of the other victors walked to the Hall of Justice, escorted by a dozen Peacekeepers. There were so many male tributes. As terrible as it sounded, you were praying that it’d be one of them that was chosen, not Finnick. If he was, then you would throw away any chance you had of winning.

If he went in with you, then he’d be the one walking out.

Cassia Locke stood in the middle of the stage, in between the male and female victors. You found it funny, almost: you were victors, but now the Capitol was gonna rip that refuge away after they’d already taken everything from you.

Cassia was just another mutt in your eyes. She was district 4’s Capitol escort; she was meant to be an advisor, but she didn’t do that well, not for you or the other tributes you mentored. But you supposed you couldn’t be too surprised. Her job was to make spectacles, not survivors.

However, she almost looked human for a moment, glancing at the women sympathetically before she pulled out a folded paper from the bowl. You stood on edge; there were only three of you. Unbeknownst to you, Finnick also stood straighter in trepidation.

She cleared her throat, announcing, “The female tribute for the 75th Annual Hunger Games and third Quarter Quell is… Annie Cresta.”

Annie’s face fell, but you quickly stepped forward. “I volunteer as tribute.”

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Annie whispered, putting a hand on your shoulder, but you brushed her off and ignored her.

Cassia nodded. “Very well, then.” She moved back to the bowl. “Now for the males.”

You glanced over to see that Finnick was already looking at you, an unknown emotion written all over his face, though you realized what it was quickly. Betrayal.

You were confused why. If anything, he should’ve been relieved.

“The male tribute for the 75th Annual Hunger Games will be…” she unfolded the paper, “Finnick Odair.”

Your heart dropped. That wasn’t supposed to happen. 

The universe must’ve hated you.

Finnick’s mask was back on. Any trace of emotion on his face was erased and replaced with the cocky, charming façade that he’d perfected. He smirked as if he wasn’t just chosen for the most brutal “game” there ever was, like there was nothing to be worried about.

He was so good at pretending. Maybe even better than you.

You both walked toward the centre of the stage simultaneously, routinely. You’ve danced this dance before.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our tributes for the Hunger Games.”

Right after that, Peacekeepers came from the side, trying to grab at your arms, but you shook them off. “We know where to go,” you said. You don’t know if it was the your tone of voice or the look on your face, but they actually listened.

You were escorted into an inactive chamber, the same one you were brought to for your first Games. Memories flashed through your mind before you shook them away. You couldn’t get PTSD right before you went into this.

Finnick was stoic as he stared you, but before either of you could say anything, Mags and Annie came rushing into the room. Annie took you by surprise, immediately engulfing you tightly.

She was still crying, but manage to blubber out through her tears, “Why- why would you do that?”

You rubbed her back. “Annie-”

“Why would you do that for me? It was supposed to be me. Supposed to be me, supposed to be me.” She kept repeating herself over and over, shaking in your arms.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Finnick and Mags watching you. “It’s gonna be okay, Annie,” you told her, but you knew it was a lie. “I’m gonna be fine.” You weren’t.

As if she knew this, she only cried harder. You didn’t know what else to say, so you just kept rubbing her back, hoping that she’d calm down. Eventually, she stopped shaking, but tears kept flowing from her eyes like a waterfall. She tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming.

She sniffled, going over to hug Finnick, then hugging you one last time before she left. “Take care of each other- please,” she asked, and you weren’t thinking of doing anything but.

You nodded, assuring her that you would do just that. Mags hugged you, saying the words she couldn’t express through her gaze. You could tell that neither of them wanted to leave, but they had to. 

Only one of you was gonna come back, and that was gonna be hard to come to terms with.

They left, and then it was just you and Finnick. The music kept playing, and playing, and playing, and you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You didn’t want to hear this song ever again if it could be your last time listening.

If you could have it your way, you’d dance together until the end of time. But forever was never promised, not in the world you lived in.

The silence, however, felt like it lasted a forever in the moment, so you broke it. “Can you say something?” Finnick just kept staring at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The music got louder. Tears came to your eyes. “Please.”

Maybe he took pity on you, because he did say something. You just weren’t sure if it was any better than the silence. “Why would you do that?” His voice was cold.

You felt cold.

You swallowed. “Finn-”

“Why would you volunteer?” He stepped closer to you, so much venom seeping through his tone that you thought you were gonna be sick. “Annie was going to go-”

You cut him off, throwing your hands up. “You saw her, Finnick. She’s a mess.”

“She was going to be fine-”

“She can’t go through The Games again!” You shouted, losing it. Why was he berating you as if you didn’t just save the love of his life? “It would kill whatever part of her is left.”

“She would’ve been fine. You would’ve been fine-”

“God, why do you care about what happens to me? Annie’s gonna be okay—you’re gonna be able to come home to her and build the family you’ve always wanted-”

He snapped. “You’re my family!” You recoiled like he just hit you with his words. It was like you’d been doused in cold water. Finnick sighed, running a hand through his hair. There was a beat where neither of you said anything, letting his revelation soak in.

But you didn’t know what that meant.

When he spoke up again, his voice was quieter. He didn’t look like the Finnick that smirked up on that stage; he looked defeated, not triumphant. “You’re my family, Y/N. Don’t you get that?” He looked back up at you. “I could’ve protected Annie in that arena, and you would’ve been safe, here—not there with me.”

You shook your head. “There is no protecting someone in an arena- you and I know that best.” You let a tear fall, smiling sadly. “You’re gonna come home, Finnick-”

“Stop.”

“You’re gonna come home and you’re gonna live a long life with Annie-”

“Stop it.”

“You have people to take care of. I don’t.”

“Y/N, stop it.”

Another tear. “You deserve this-”

“Stop it.” Finnick grabbed onto your shoulders. You didn’t even know he got so close. “I’m not gonna let you die in there. Do you hear me? You’re not dying.”

“Only one of us is coming back, Finn. It’s gonna be you.”

You don’t know if your eyes were just really that blurry or if there were actually tears in his eyes, too. “No, you are coming home-”

“Finni-”

He grabbed you tighter. “We are both coming home.” The dam in your eyes broke, and all of the tears you were trying to hold came flooding down your cheeks.

Why was he saying these things? He knew it was impossible.

“We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear,” he promised, but these were promises he couldn’t keep. These were things he couldn’t control. Why was he lying to you- why was he lying to himself?

You wanted to say all these things, to scream, to tell him that it wasn’t true, that you were going to die. But then you remembered every other time you lied in bed together, every time you kissed and held each other. You’ve been lying to yourself all along, pretending you could have a future together when, deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.

So you held everything in, pulling Finnick to you and hugging him with everything you had. You were gonna let him pretend, just this last time.

You were gonna dance together one last time.

You spent the entire train ride in each other’s arms, only getting up to eat and go to the bathroom before getting back in bed. You didn’t have mentors—you were the mentors. You’d been here before already, and that was surreal in and of itself.

You thought you already won. But nobody ever won, did they?

Those games killed everyone, victors included.

The press was insane, but just as you expected it. You were the Prince and Princess of Panem; they didn’t want to watch you die. Turns out, people in the Capitol did have hearts; clearly, they weren’t all too functional.

This visit, in more ways than one, was completely different from any other time you’d been in the city. Instead of the graceful show you normally put on, waving and smiling, you were much more mute. You were gonna die, anyway, so what was the point of continuing to be a puppet? 

Finnick was still his usual self, smirky and arrogant, but even his anger snuck through the cracks of his act. All of you were angry, all of the victors. You could tell just by the mere glances you’d gotten of them, by the news coverage. Nobody wanted to go into an arena and kill people, not even the Careers (who you’d admit were pretty crazy).

However, this was all still a show to the Capitol, with you as the unlucky cast. And the show had to go on.

You and Finnick were separated to be prepped by the “glam teams.” The first time around, you remember being scared, but now you were just bored.

You were sitting idly in the dressing room, waiting for your designer when a man walked in, making you raise a brow.

This was a designer, but not your designer.

“Wait, I know you.” You tilted your head as his face became more familiar to you. “You’re Cinna- you designed those outfits with the fire.”

Cinna nodded in a way that you perceived as both humble and prideful at the same time. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Princess.”

This elicited a bitter chuckle from you. “Please, call me Y/N.” You then stood up to shake his hand when your curiosity sparked. “Aren’t you Katniss’ designer?”

“Yes, but I’m also going to be designing your outfits, as well,” he replied. “The head Gamemaker requested it. You are the Princess, after all.”

The corners of your lips went up. Most people you met at the Capitol would beat around the bush, but this guy didn’t seem shy. It was refreshing. You teased, “Ah, and since I’m a princess, I get Panem’s best to dress me?” 

Cinna chuckled a bit under his breath, but didn’t confirm or deny your comment. He dived straight into his plans, explaining what he wanted to for you with a twinkle in his eye that you noticed most artists had when speaking about their work. “I want to stay true to the district 4 theme, but I want to make a statement.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling.”

He smiled. “We’re gonna show the Capitol that they can’t control you.”

And then your little smile turned into a grin.

Cinna did not disappoint. You were in a golden, long-sleeve, grid shirt with holes where the squares were supposed to be; your velvet skirt was a dark blueish-green, skin-tight; and atop your head was a golden crown, decorated with blue jewels.

Of course, it wasn’t a normal outfit, but you were gonna save the theatrics for the parade.

Finnick was around somewhere, likely causing trouble while you were walking around, looking for Johanna. However, you ended up running into someone else.

“Peeta,” you called, and he turned around. He immediately reminded you of Finnick, a mask of charm hiding him. Although Peeta had only been at this for a year, he already knew how to play the game, unlike Katniss who was rather unapproachable.

“Y/N,” he greeted. He scrambled for something to say for a few seconds. “I heard about how you volunteered for that girl. It was really brave.”

You hummed, almost sarcastically. “You don’t have to suck up to me—it’s not like I bite.”

He got red, making you stifle a laugh. “That’s, uh- that’s not what I meant-”

“It’s fine, I get it,” you waved it off. “It’s probably intimidating to be here around all of us, just a year after you won.” He didn’t say anything, just awkwardly smiled. “You know, you don’t have to be scared. You have a lot of power ‘round here; you just need to learn how to wield it.”

He gave you a confused look, so you elaborated, “There’s power in the masses, Peeta. The people here love you.” You paused. “Use that.”

A look of realization crossed his face, and so you decided that you said all you needed to say. He thanked you, but his mind looked to be elsewhere. You nodded, then walked off to find your carriage.

Sure, the Capitol could try and treat you all like pieces on a chess board, but if you got rid of the board altogether, then there would be no game to play. You spoke to Peeta to help him realize that. It didn’t matter if you were all meant to be on different sides; until you got into that arena, you were all one team, and you were gonna try your hardest to stop The Games before they began.

If that didn’t work, then you would just have to concede. One way or another, you would make sure that Finnick made it out of that arena alive. Peeta reminded you an awful lot of him, and while you would otherwise be rooting for him, you would choose Finnick if it came down to it.

You met Finnick at the chariot not long after leaving Peeta. He was shirtless, wearing a skirt similar to your top, rope around his wrists like bracelets. If you weren’t about to go into this stupid parade, you would’ve probably been making out already, but you were far too worried to think about that.

You had Cinna to thank for calming your nerves, giving you something to look forward to. Once the parade had started and you were coming through, you pressed the button of the device he had given you and then your top went up in flames, disintegrating until you were just in a black bralette, revealing the swirls of blue they painted on your arms, resembling waves. The rope around Finnick’s wrists caught fire, too, burning up until there was nothing there.

The crowd cheered, chanting your names. The faintest of smirks grew on your lips, but you really had to stifle your enjoyment when you saw Snow staring your carriage down.

What you did symbolized freeing yourself of the shackles of the Capitol, of these stupid Games. They could try, but they wouldn’t control you. 

You would’ve usually felt some sort of fear- hell, you were never so defiant just in fear of what they would do to you. But what more could they do to you? They were already going to kill you. You didn’t care anymore.

After the parade, you ran into Johanna who gave you a good laugh as she told you how she stripped in the elevator. You would’ve paid good money to see it, that was for sure. You also talked to a few other victors on your way back to your suite.

You’d been friends with many of these people for years and now the Capitol was just gonna try and pit you against each other. None of you were looking forward to that—you were friends. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t make any allies.

Alliances didn’t last forever in the arena, but they lasted long enough. Considering your status, almost everyone wanted you and your “boyfriend” as allies; they certainly didn’t want you as enemies.

The next day was spent at the training centre, a brand new one made specially for the Quarter Quell. The thought made you roll your eyes. The Capitol would spend their money on things like this and yet there were still kids out there starving. What kind of world was that? One that you were okay with leaving, so long as Finnick would remain in it.

On your way in, you passed Cashmere and Gloss throwing knives at holograms. They were good, you noted, but not better at it than you. Johanna was off practicing by herself—though you were sure that she was doing it more so to release her pent-up aggression. Wiress and Beetee, Nuts and Volts as Jo called them, were by themselves, much less violent than everyone else here and much more strategic. Finnick was tying knots, looking more bored than anything. And you… you weren’t doing anything.

You leaned back on a wall, watching the other tributes instead of joining them. You didn’t care about the rankings or making yourself look dangerous. You didn’t have anything to prove; you did that already, and you really didn’t need to “practice,” either.

You’ve danced this dance before.

However, not everyone was so aware of just how well you danced last time.

“Not practicing?” You turned your head, seeing the newest victor walking up to you, donning her famous hairstyle. The corners of your lips quirked up in amusement. 

She must have been told to make friends. You couldn’t imagine it was working out so well if she was coming to you.

“Don’t need to, Everdeen,” you replied, shrugging. “I don’t need the spotlight; got enough of that.”

She lightly snorted. “Yeah, I know what that’s like.” And you didn’t doubt that. Katniss had definitely captured the attention of Panem with her actions, and she certainly acquired the attention of the Capitol. Snow couldn’t have been her biggest fan.

In another life, you could picture you and her being friends, but you knew it wasn’t gonna happen in this one.

“You’re lucky, you know,” you said. You knew she didn’t see that way, and maybe it was a little bitter of you to say that, but it was true. At least she hadn’t been under the spotlight long enough for it to burn her like it’d burned you. 

She scoffed, “How so?” The girl had restraint, you’d give her that. She clearly wanted to say a lot more than that, but she was smart. She knew better.

You shrugged again. “You just are.” And you left it there. If she wanted all the dirty details about you, she could try her luck with one of the other victors, but you doubted she sensed the real meaning of your words. She hadn’t been dancing long enough to even hear the song yet.

A dramatic sigh then escaped your lips. “Ah, though I suppose even your luck can only run so far, Girl on Fire. So sorry about your wedding.” The sarcasm in your voice was toned down just enough that it wasn’t so evident but evident enough to make your point.

She gave you a tense smile, although you weren’t sure if any of Katniss’ smiles ever weren’t tense. “Thanks,” she responded with zero sincerity in her tone. “I’m sorry you and Finnick never had one, either. Would’ve been a real royal occasion.”

You hummed, smiling your royal smile back at her. The Kat has claws, you thought. But you didn’t really feel like standing here and trading subliminals with her all day; you’d have enough of that with everyone else, anyway.

You left it at that, going to walk away before pausing as if you’d forgotten something. “Tell Haymitch I said hi.” You gave her a once over. “He’s done a good job.” And then you walked away.

Finnick’s voice rang through your head: May the odds be ever in your favour, darling. You almost felt like recycling that line and repeating it to Katniss, but you had already messed with her enough. 

Your demeanour was in stark contrast of how you normally behaved. You may have been more agreeable or kind at home, sweet on cameras, but in this territory, you had an entirely different reputation. Sharp, cunning, unpredictable—ruthless. That’s the way it needed to be if you wanted to survive, or at least survive long enough to do what you needed to do.

So, you supposed that you had a mask, too.

You all did.

When you got back to your suite later in the evening, Finnick informed you of Katniss’ display with her bow and arrow, how she had renowned victors quaking in their boots, but people were even more scared of you, and you hadn’t even done anything at training.  

You basically had the entire pool of tributes to choose from for an alliance. You were choosing Johanna, of course, and Finnick already had his mind made up on his pick.

Making his way over to you, he tossed you something that you swiftly caught before sitting down on the armchair across from the sofa you were sitting on. You looked down, opening your hand to see a golden pendant, a medallion with a rose in the middle.

You raised a brow. This wasn’t a present. “A rose?”

“They’re a Capitol favourite.” Precisely why you hated them.

“Alright, and why are you giving it to me?”

Finnick brought his wrist up, showing you a golden bracelet made of vines while wiggling his fingers. “They’re gifts,” he told you, “from Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy.”

You were familiar with both people. Effie Trinket was crazy, but that wasn’t the dominant thought on your mind. “Gifts for what?”

He answered, “They’ve brokered an alliance with us on behalf of Katniss and Peeta.” At that, you groaned, but Finnick readily cut you off. “This will be good for us, Y/N.”

“They’re brand new to this,” you countered. Sure, you liked the spark that the Girl on Fire had, and Peeta was quite the catch, but they only won a year ago. The Careers would be a better pick, even though you didn’t exactly like them, either.

“Yes, but they’re good; you’ve seen them. And the Capitol’s gonna love it, the two pairs of lovers together. C’mon, you know all this.” You did. You knew that this was one of the best avenues to take, but something in you was against it.

Maybe it was just that Peeta reminded you of the man you were in love with, and Katniss reminded you of yourself. But right now, you had to remind yourself to think with your head, not your heart. You needed to disregard your feelings and do whatever it took to win this.

To you, winning didn’t mean surviving this. Winning meant that Finnick did.

So, with a sigh, you surrendered, agreeing to this little deal. “So, these accessories are, what? Bargaining chips?”

He smirked. “No, they’re symbols. Katniss and Peeta have theirs, too.”

You chuckled, shaking your head and mocking, “So we’re in a little golden alliance, then?”

“It appears so, darling.”

After a little more conversation, Finnick and you headed off to bed, even though neither of you could really sleep. You held each other, though, and so the insomnia was bearable. He told you to stow the necklace away, that you were saving the objects for The Games. Apparently, Katniss and Peeta still needed a little persuasion for this, especially the former.

She was smart not to trust you, but she was equally as naive for the same reason. If you wanted to, you could be judgemental all day, but you didn’t have the time for it, so your mind didn’t linger on the subject.

When you were waiting to be assessed the next day with the rest of the tributes, your mind didn’t really linger on anything. You felt numb: not pleased, not sad, just numb. If you could pin-point an emotion, it had to be anger, but that feeling hadn’t left you since your first Games.

Finnick, on the other hand, looked no different, maybe even a little amused by the tension in the room, too amused for somebody who had to go back to the arena. But Finnick was always one to look a challenge into the eye and, instead of looking away, give it a wink. That was his persona while you were here, in the Capitol, so you’d let him indulge in it if that’s what made him feel better.

You’d do anything for him, even if he didn’t love you back.

He went into the room first. You didn’t know exactly what he was gonna do, but you knew that you were all basically doing the same thing. Plutarch Heavensbee may have been new, but even he knew who you all were. You’ve all shown your skills already, been here already, danced this dance already.

The song was getting old.

You were all giving your own personal fuck you to the Capitol.

When Finnick walked out, he flashed you a smirk that almost made you laugh. You stifled a smile as you walked into the room yourself, but it was quickly wiped off your face as memories played in your head like a movie.

You remembered the first time you did this, coming in and saying your name, scared out of your mind but ready to win, ready to impress the sponsors.

Now, you didn’t have to say your name. You caught their attention as soon as you walked in. You were the Princess. You needed no introduction.

It was funny, though, how that imaginary crown couldn’t save you from this.

The thought of your inevitable death was what fuelled you. You were known for your abilities with a sword, but that wasn’t what you reached for. You reached for the jug of gasoline and a lighter, immediately opening it and pouring in a circle in the middle of the room before stepping into it.

Then you looked right up at all of them and their confused faces, and threw the open lighter to the liquid in front of you, igniting a circle of fire around you.

You stared right at the head Gamemaker as you did it, expressionless. His expression told you that he got the message, or at least your hostility.

You would burn this place to the ground if you had to, even if you got burned while doing it. 

When the flames got smaller, you turned and stepped over them, walking out of the room without another glance or word to the Capitol mutts. As far as you were concerned, they weren’t worth your time—you were running out of that, anyways.

Once the assessments were over, all any of you had time to do was get ready for the show. Caesar wasn’t exactly a face you wanted to see right now. Maybe he saw his enthusiasm as a way of “calming the tributes down,” but it was really just his lack of empathy. You didn’t need him cheering and practically gossiping about your death before it happened. 

As much as the people in the Capitol liked to think of these Games as games, they weren’t. They were your lives. But you really could spend days obsessing over it, days that you didn’t have.

It was time to dance, and there was nothing you did better.

You were backstage, standing with Finnick and Johanna, waiting your turns. Cinna had made you very pretty. He was good at what he did.

You were wearing a dark blue dress with wide straps tied into blue bows at your shoulders and a sweetheart neckline. The bottom half was pretty fitted, but it was covered by a sparkly, golden, A-line, hoop petticoat made of the same material as your top from the parade, gridded with holes like before. And of course, your crown sat atop your head—Cinna insisted.

He really wanted to nail the whole Princess thing, milk it for all it was worth. And you let him, because his designs were great. Part of you wished you could’ve gotten more into fashion; now you’d never get the chance to.

You couldn’t blame Katniss for being so stand-offish. You’d be intimidated, too, if you were new to the club, watching from the sidelines. You, Finnick, and Johanna didn’t really seem all too approachable right now, either, even the ever so charming Odair. They were exchanging jokes and laughing at the interviews, mocking them, while you were rather stoic, observing the interviews watchfully.

Cashmere and Gloss went first, of course. They did theirs together since they were brother and sister. It was odd to you, how two siblings managed to get reaped together out of all the victors district 1 had, but you were paying more attention to the act they were putting on. 

Casmere was sobbing. She’s a much better killer than she is an actor, you thought, but the people in the audience clearly bought it. You’d give her credit, though; you were all trying your best to get this thing cancelled, even if that was highly unlikely.

Next came the two crazy Careers who made Gloss’ acting look world class. Then Beetee went on stage, using logic as a tactic rather than emotion. Smart, but logic wouldn’t sway President Snow’s wishes. The Capitol sent innocent kids off to die every year in a televised event to pay for something that happened years before any of them were born—logic was obviously not their strong suit.

Wiress went next, and that’s basically when you tuned out. She was pretty out of it, not really saying much. Finnick was going after her. That’s what occupied your thoughts.

“Hey, you alright?” Your were snapped out of your daze by the very man you were thinking about, as if he was reading your mind. Those blue eyes that you loved so much stared down at you, concern swimming through them.

Those ocean eyes. You could drown in them.

You cleared your throat, straightening your shoulders. “Yeah, I’m good.” He continued to stare down at you like he was completely unconvinced, but before he could say anything, they were calling his name.

He cursed under his breath then placed a soft kiss on your temple before having to walk out on stage, that famous smirk on his face. He was so good at that, at going from hard to soft so easily, cursing to kissing you.

He was good. He was real good, and he was a much better actor than any other tribute here. He was so good that he could make even you believe his performance.

You watched them from the TV backstage. “Finnick,” Caesar started. “As I recall, the last time we spoke, it was with your other half, who is here today.” The crowd cheered.

Finn nodded, smiling tensely, which you were sure he did on purpose. “That’s right.”

“You and the Princess have so graciously shared your love with us, and we have fallen in love with you both, perhaps as much as you love each other.” You and Johanna simultaneously rolled your eyes. Finnick, though, smiled to the cheering audience, mouthing thank you’s that no doubt made them swoon. “None of us know how to deal with the fact that you are both going into The Games- I certainly haven’t come to terms with it. Tell us, how are you dealing with this?”

You scoffed. If there was something the people of the Capitol liked to do, it was pretending that your tragedy was their own. They didn’t know even half of your pain, any of yours. 

Caesar practically shoved the microphone in Finnick’s face. He looked down, like he was thinking, but you knew he probably had this bit down pat already. “If I’m being honest, neither Y/N nor I have come to terms with it, either.” He now looked right to the camera. “What I do know is that I will do whatever it takes to protect the woman I love.” The crowd cooed as you looked straight at the TV, as if Finnick was staring into your eyes. “And if I… if I die in that arena, then my last thought will be of her lips… and how lucky I was to have met her and have had the opportunity to give her my heart.”

The crowd went wild and Caesar said something in response, but you couldn’t hear it. You were stuck staring into Finnick’s eyes, the eyes you fell in love with. Oh, he was so good. He could dance the dance so much better than you. Because everything he said, he almost made you believe that he meant it.

You blinked the tears in your eyes away when Johanna shook you, telling you they were about to announce your name. You put the mask back on, and it was your love for Finnick that made you do it. You were doing this for him.

An exhale left your lips as you waited for your cue. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, as our Prince exits, I have the honour of welcoming his counterpart to the stage. The winner of the 67th Hunger Games. The Princess of Panem. Y/N Y/L/N!”

The doors you stood behind opened and you walked onto the stage, a stellar smile on your face as you waved to the roaring crowd. You just had to play the role, and everything would be fine.

When the cheers died down, Caesar gave you a sympathetic look, or at least a look that he thought was sympathetic. “Now, Y/N, it is lovely to see you. You look stunning.”

“Thank you, Caesar. It’s always wonderful to see you. I just wish it was under different circumstances.” You glanced to the crowd, catching their pity. For once, that was the exact emotion you wished to inspire.

“Yes, I think I speak for us all when I say that this is not easy.” You tightly smiled, even though you really just wanted to flip him off. “We just spoke to Finnick, he has been quite expressive these past few days in the Capitol, but you, Y/N, you have not been as revealing. Please, we’d like to know what’s been on your mind.”

If Caesar really heard what was on your mind, then he’d be appalled. That wasn’t your goal, even though you’d greatly enjoy that. Instead, you had a different play.

The audience was very quiet in anticipation of your response. You sighed, keeping the tired smile. “I, um… I’ve had a lot on my mind, really. Finnick and I, we thought we had more time, time to get married and even have kids, but now it’s like that time has just been… stolen from us.” Collective awes resounded throughout the crowd as Caesar brought his other hand to his chest, like your words moved him. “It’s- it’s just not fair, simple as that. But I love him, and that love will survive, even if I don’t.”

The audience let their dismay be known while Caesar shook his head. “Oh, my dear, I have seen your love- we all have, and I know that it will never die.” You nodded in agreement, listening to everyone else agree with you.

The acting was easier than you thought it’d be. Maybe that was because it wasn’t all acting, not for you. You knew your role, and you knew it well, but your love for Finnick was not something you had to fake. It was perhaps one of the only real things you had left.

“Now, we are all in for an emotional night, so I’d just like to lighten the mood a little- is that alright?” You nodded again, though you wondered how he would’ve reacted if you didn’t. “Okay, now we all saw your display at the parade- isn’t that right, everyone?” He paused, letting them applaud. “Yes, it was magnificent. Would I be right in assuming that you have something similar planned tonight?”

��Oh, you’d be correct,” you responded, flashing a grin at the whooping crowd.

“Please, please.” He stepped back. “Go right ahead.”

You glanced at Cinna sitting front row before pressing the button of the device he gave you. The golden petticoat then went up in flames, seemingly “ejecting” the skirt of your dress, sending it from above your knees to your ankles as it went from skin-tight to flowy. The very bottom faded into a teal colour, like the sea.

The crowd’s cheers got louder than you thought possible. Caesar wowed, then raised his voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Princess of Panem!” You gave the crowd one last wave before making your way up the stairs to stand with the rest of the victors.

You were standing next to Finnick by the time the next tribute was called out and the attention was on them. To your surprise, he grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. But what really surprised you was the slight tremble you felt.

You looked up at him to see him already staring down at you. His mask fell a little, and instead of the at-ease Finnick you just saw, you were looking at a much more serious, stern version. You were confused by what could’ve brought this on, but then he leant down slightly, whispering in your ear, “I told you. I’m not letting you die.” When he pulled away, he didn’t look any less serious.

Oh, what a great liar he could be. There he was, making you believe in things that couldn’t possibly be true. You were going to die. You knew that, and you’d accepted it already. But Finnick hadn’t accepted it at all. He looked like he was believing his own lie.

You don’t know why this had shaken him so badly. Maybe he felt obligated to you, maybe he felt bad for you, but whatever it was, you weren’t gonna make it worse.

You could be a good actor, too.

For him.

You nodded, whispering back, “I know.” This looked to have calmed him down a little. He kissed the side of your head, and then the mask was back up. He kept his tight hold on your hand, and you let him.

You never know when it’d be the last time you held hands, and so you were gonna enjoy this while it lasted.

Even though this was an “emotional night,” as Caesar had dubbed it, you still got satisfaction out of everything the victors were pulling. When Johanna came on stage, she had a totally different approach than all of your sad acts and Beetee’s logic: she said what you all really wanted to say, giving the Capitol a loud fuck you.

You and Finnick had to stop yourselves from laughing amidst your shock. Caesar definitely wasn’t expecting that. You knew Snow definitely wasn’t expecting that, either. You hoped he was watching this right now, and you hoped that all of Panem could feel your outrage.

But if you were surprised by anything, it was the so called star-crossed lovers from district 12. Katniss’ wedding dress was a nice touch; she could’ve convinced even you that they were in love, if you didn’t know any better.

You weren’t the only one with a message to send to the Capitol with your attire. She spun around and her white dress was engulfed in flames, transforming into a midnight blue dress similar to yours. And when she lifted her arms, wings were revealed, and the smile on your lips widened.

“It’s a bird,” Caesar stammered in awe. “It’s like, a- it’s got feathers- it’s a bird- like a-”

You murmured at the same time as Katniss spoke up, “Like a Mockingjay.” You looked up to Finnick, seeing him already smirking. Everdeen was a lot ballsier than you thought.

“Your stylist certainly has outdone himself this time, hasn’t he? Bestowing not one, but two just astonishing looks upon us! What theatricality.” The attention was drawn to your designer. “Cinna! Take a bow.”

You were growing to like this man more and more, knowing that the Capitol must have hated him.

When the cheers died down and Katniss came and joined you all, the event was almost over with just Peeta left. You remembered the advice you gave him; you had high hopes for him, and he did not disappoint. 

He claimed he and Katniss had a secret wedding, reeled them all in, and then he added the cherry on top. “You know, Katniss and I, we’ve been luckier than most. And I wouldn’t have any regrets at all…” he paused, choking up, “i-if, if it weren’t… if…”

“If it weren’t for what? What, Peeta?”

“If it weren’t for the baby.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

The audience clamoured. You slapped a hand over your mouth to hide the upturn of your lips, feigning horror. Finnick was in the same boat, stifling a laugh.

Golden boy was smarter than he got credit for.

People in the audience stood up, shouting while Caesar tried to calm them down. They were calling for The Games to be stopped, exactly what you’d been trying to achieve all night. Caesar whispered something to Peeta away from the microphone, and he walked up the stairs to the rest of you, hugging his apparent wife.

Then suddenly, you were nudged by the person next to you, looking down to see their hand outstretched. You quickly realized what was going on and grabbed it. And then amidst all the fury, you brought your hands up together. Yes, they wanted you to kill each other, but you were all united in the same fight first.

It became obvious that Caesar couldn’t contain the crowd’s indignation any longer, so the anthem played, increasing in volume to try and drown them out, but your actions were still so much louder than words. 

That’s when the lights cut out.

But it would be a lot harder for the Capitol to snuff out the spark you all lit.

While you all did your best, your efforts appeared to be futile. Snow wasn’t against killing children, so you supposed that you all should’ve known better than to think that he’d cancel The Games for Everdeen’s baby.

However, it wasn’t completely useless. You had the public’s support. Sponsors wouldn’t be hard to get, so at least that was something. But all in all, The Games were still happening. One winner. Twenty-three of you would be dead, and you were going to be one of them.

Your last Games, you were relentless, selling your soul to stay alive. And you were gonna do it all over again, but this time, your objective wasn’t staying alive at all. It was making sure Finnick could make it home to Annie. 

Lying there in Finnick’s arms that night for what could possibly be the last time, you realized that you would die without ever having been loved by someone. You were with Finnick, and you loved him, but he didn’t love you back.

These last few days, you had been consumed by fire, knowing that you would burn everything down if it meant your lover would be safe, but it was like it was just hitting you that you’d been warming yourself up with a flame that wasn’t ever really yours.

You knew without a doubt that Finnick Odair was your soulmate.

But you weren’t his.

Tears pooled into your eyes at the thought, and so you quickly buried your head into his chest before a panic attack could came on. You calmed down to the sound of his heartbeat, the heartbeat that you personally would make sure didn’t stop until he was old and his hair was grey.

The next day was a blur between the hovercraft, having the trackers injected into you, and then being separated from Finnick. The only thing you really could remember was how he kissed your cheek before he left.

And then you were in the tube, rising up into the arena. You couldn’t get a good look at it. Every time you blinked, your Games flashed before your eyes. Sun, cold, dirt, blood, screaming, murder.

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as the announcer counted down. Pull yourself together, Y/N, you thought.

And then The Games begun.

Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade

[chevelleneech]

semi-live blog

They are immediately the cutest fucking people when together. So soft, so giggly.

I know it’s part of their social culture, but they drink a lot. Maybe it’s because I don’t drink, but dang.

“Jungkook is currently doing his skincare.” They add to the screen after panning away for scenery, yet leaving the sounds of *slap slap slap*😭

Jungkook cycling through multiple pairs of sunglasses, and Jimin swanning in and picking the first pair is peak! They’re so similar I yet so different, lol.

Another thing I’m sure is part of their culture, is the way they pay for stuff, but I find it interesting still that we’ve seen Jimin buy almost everything during their trips, since as far as we know they have pretty lax hierarchy rules between the two of them normally.

Jungkook is in the most romantic moment of his life, lmao! “I love it here!!!” said a million times. That man was experiencing a real life Hallmark movie in his head.

I also thought they spoke/understood way more Japanese than they apparently do.

“Come on everybody!” I understood that reference.

The way they chose to animate over everything to avoid having to blur a billion people in the station is HILARIOUS!

Jimin is too funny bro.

This train ride is so peaceful, it’s selling me on visiting Sapporo despite being broke and not speaking a lick of Japanese.

Can we also discuss how “My man, my man, my man.” Jungkook is? Yet Jimin is too, and somehow both is more than the other, lol. They are perpetually on some, “Jimin will like this.” “Where’s Jungkook?” *films food, pans to Jimin* *films the outside world, pans to Jungkook* *cuddle even while walking* type stuff. Just lovesick.

Girl!dad Jimin confirmed🥰 He’ll be such a sweet dad too, I think. He’s so patient and kind, which is heavily required to raise another human.

I loooooooooe Jimin’s jacket dude.

The way Jimin immediately pivoted to making JK laugh when he tried to downplay himself. Like I said, “My man, my man, my man.” Don’t talk bad about his man, even if you are his man.

My most delusional Jikook theory you’ll ever hear from me: “Are You Sure?” actually became the title because they were asking it if each other, because they in looooooooooove.

Also, to answer my own question from my previous list… yes, the bubble is back.

Role play Jikook strikes again!

Jungkook is it slick! He played with that sip of whiskey the entire time, but the minute Jimin left he downed it.

Them forgetting to pay would’ve been me. And JK initially sending Jimin back to do it would have also been me. You got it, extrovert! Take the embarrassment for the both of us!

They’re so cute! This snow fight makes me want to be somewhere cold for the holiday☹️

The food always looks so damn good! Lord I’m jealous.

I need someone to compile all the times JM and JK go out to eat together, and let me know if Jimin is the one with his back always to the door? It’s a thing in America at least, that the “protector” tends to sit where they can see the door, and I don’t know if that’s a thing in SK as well, but it’s cute, because it matches their dynamic either way.

“Your fingers were all over it.” SIR!? You’ve had his sweaty ear in your mouth… he’s had his mouth on your neck… you’ve also had his fingers in your mouth before and vice verse… AND y’all constantly eat and drink off each other… in fact… yesterday he bit the very sausage you were in the middle of eating and then you continued eating it… before that you gladly allowed him to put his TOES next to your face while you were BRUSHING YOUR TEETH. Stop playing with me, Jeon Jungkook!

Jimin legit being ready to beat Tae’s ass over a dumpling is too crazy, lol. And folks be acting like he some docile helpless baby. Meanwhile, JK is a mediator. They definitely made for each other.

End of the episode. It was fun. Felt like the start of a holiday special. And I didn’t mention it up top, because I decided to “live blog” thoughts like ten minutes in or whatever, but Jungkook softly and sweetly saying he wanted to come back to Japan because it reminded him of their first trip together… SOBBING! He’s such a sentimental guy, with an equally as sentimental guy on his arm.

They truly do vibe so well, and I understand with each passing episode why them enlisting together was a non-choice choice. They click. Like they said themselves, they’re one person split into two bodies, and it’s clear as day they thrive off of being around one another.

Not to get too sappy either, but it’s insane they feel that way about their bond and dynamic, on top of all the things that already just so happened to bring them together. Not just born in the same country, but same city. Auditioned for the same music group. Actually made it into the same group… they were destined to meet, and even they feel that way. All that’s missing is them being the same age, and they’d be the same person. That’s an insane thing to say, but really tells you how deeply they value their connection.

[seungfl0wer]

*Purple*

Seungmin x Reader (Fem)

Although this is shorter than what I normally write, I feel like this needs warnings. Also a note this scenario has been on my mind for awhile and I just needed to write it lol.

Warnings: Seungmin says some harsh things, the sex not feeling good anymore. You have to use the safe word. This has slight smut, angst and a happy ending (of course)

-🩵

Seungmin has had a bad day up and down. He hoped the party after work with his amazing girlfriend would help him relax but- of course it did not. Seeing all the men wanting to talk to you made his blood boil. He knew you would never do anything on purpose you were just so kind and outgoing. However the feeling of today made it seem more- flirtatious?

When you both got into the car seungmin gripped the steering wheel tightly. Not saying one word. You felt your heart racing not knowing why he was upset. Trying to ask him was only met with a ‘I’m fine’. Which was obvious bullshit. Walking up to the apartment as you opened the door you were met with Seungmin grabbing your arm pulling you to your room.

“You think you can just act like a slut and expect things to be fine?” He spat. He practically ripped your clothes off before taking his own off. “Seung I didn’t-“ you started to say before a strong smack to your pussy was connected. “Shut up.” He hissed. All the rage from today came flowing out and before you knew it he had you face down ass up. Face buried into the pillow your noises muffled.

“You’re such a dumb whore you know that?” He says as he’s pounding into you. “I bet if I wasn’t there you’d be sucking face with those guys” he said his words actually digging into you. The feeling of everything was honestly off a bit. It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good but it also kinda didn’t? Seungmin slapped your ass hard “Little slut probably thinking of them railing you right now huh?”

Another smack this time it was harder, it hurt and not in a good way. You felt tears forming in the corners of your eyes, however when you tried to move seungmin just pushed your face down into the bed more. You couldn’t move and then the panic started to set in. ‘Did he really think those things?’ Your chest was starting to tighten as he fucked you. There wasn’t any pleasure anymore and you started to sob.

“Crying because you’re getting punished? Such a fucking baby” he spat taking his hand to smack your ass again. The bright red marks turning a soft purple. Seungmin moved the hand that was on the back of your head to your hips as he fucked you deeper. Finally. You pulled your head up and could only muster up a small “purple.” Your body shutting down as seungmins movements began to slow. “Pur-ple” you stuttered out again. This time seungmins body froze. “Purple?” He repeated eyes going big.

This was the safe word you guys had in place at all times, even when you weren’t being rough it was there just incase. Seungmin quickly wrapped his arms around you pulling you to him. “What do need pup?” He said trying to make his voice as sweet as possible but you could hear how frantic he sounded. When you didn’t reply he titled your head up to him to look at you.

The damn holding back all your tears finally breaking as the flood poured from your eyes. Your body trembled under him as you curled up into a ball in his arms. Head finding cover in his chest where you muffled cries dared to come out. Seungmin felt his heart breaking at the state of you. “Y/n- hey m’sorry- don’t cry” he rubbed your back trying to help you calm down. As the flood started to die down you sniffled a small “do- you hate me”

Seungmin nearly lost it, biting back tears this whole time trying to be there for you. “Love, id never hate you.” He said rubbing the back of your head. “But..” you started to say feeling more tears about to fall “you think I’d really cheat on you?” You said choking those tears back.

“No! Y/n no. I know you’d never do it.. my brain was just putting bad thoughts in my mind. I didn’t mean it in any other way than dirty talk” he said pulling you into him even closer than before. “Y/n I love you with all my heart, I’m so fucking sorry I made you feel that way.” He said kissing your head softly. You nod looking up at the him, he took the opportunity to wipe the tears from your face.

“Want me to run a warm bath? We can soak together would you want that?” He coo’d. You smiled a bit nodding yes. This was always one of your favorite things just in the warm water as seungmin held on to you from behind. “Alright love let me go start the water and we can get in. Do you need anything a drink? Snack?” He asked still worried about you. You shook your head no looking at him again “just need you” you said softly wrapping your arms around him.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[k-zuzu]

홍중

kim hongjoong 𖹭 fem idol!reader

DESTINY.

synopsis: idol!reader is very open about her love for ateez kim hongjoong, scandal breaks, they end up together. (feat. bang chan of skz being wise.)

content: eventual smut mdni, cringe/crack, angst if u squint, strangers2friends2lovers, reader uses she/her pronouns, slow burn?, this is shit, choppy storyline lots of time skips and anticlimactic, fluffy?, lots of use of the pet name 'baby', cuddling, big sexy hongjoong, swearing, not proofread, lowercase intended. explicit warnings: in the studio couch, handjob, p in v, no prep, vanilla, unprotected, creampie, sub/dom undertones?, virgin/inexperienced reader

guide: italics in dialogues are used when they speak in korean. chat fonted dialogues are comments and exchanged texts. long blocks of dialogues are used during lives because they're not really doing anything apart from speaking!

zuzu's note: main masterlist. the girl in the picture is just a reference/icon to get the overall vibe of the "idol aesthetic." also, because it's difficult to make things neutral, i created your group and fandom's name, and also put in a groupmate's name in as placeholders because it's difficult to write without mentioning them lol.

you spent two years honing your skills as a trainee at a modest, struggling company before rising to fame as the leader of your own group, DESTINY. your impressive duality on stage, seamlessly transitioning from intense, commanding dance moves and mature raps to the charming, feminine aegyo concept, quickly won over fans. your first award was hard-earned for your sultry debut song titled "Sit." (in which you would subtly imply that you want to sit on someone's face).

you, in particular, gained a significant international following because of your hilarious bedroom lives where you would often deliver sassy comebacks to fans, showcase your impressive english language skills, and share random chatter that fans couldn't help but love. Initially, you became known for your goofy on-screen personality. however, as your talents and stage presence shone through, it was no surprise that people fell for you.

DESTINY has cemented their status as THE 5th generation girl group, making waves in the music industry. numerous renowned idols you adored in the past (one of which, was Kim Hongjoong) have taken notice of your group's bold lyrics and praised your distinctive style and captivating concept.

one day, you decide to hop onto instagram to go live and have a casual chat with your dedicated fans, also known as fates, during a brief pause from rehearsing the dance routine for your upcoming comeback album titled "idgaf." despite having beads of sweat clinging to your forehead and being slightly winded from the dance, you maintain a casual conversation with your viewers;

"so, a few days ago i was on my phone and i was watching these uh, these compilations of other idols talking about me—" you pause to catch your breath and slightly chuckle at how ridiculous you sound. "someone made one of those cute videos on youtube." you repeat in korean. "my favorite part was when they showed ateez reaction to me casually rapping that one part in WORK during one of my lives..." you took a deep inhale and looked away as you thought about it some more. "hongjoong-sunbaenim was sooo, aaaagh! he was— i mean, okay, so, don't like, make a big deal out of this, but i had a hugeeee crush on him for so long, so long, like, before i debuted, i swear, his charizzma is unmatched!!! aaaaaGH, he COMPLIMENTED MY RAPPING IN THE VIDEO! and then i began to wonder if, like, was my rapping even good? damn, i could've done better if i knew hongjoong-sunbaenim would watch it. he was also, actually my inspiration as a leader and a producer..."

you continued chattering on, unaware that your manager would soon reprimand you for discussing that particular topic, citing potential negative consequences. however, it wasn't a major issue, since your fans actually valued your candidness. sure, there were a few hateful remarks scattered among the positive comments, but many responded positively, with remarks such as:

"help she's so real 😭"

"waaah, wishing i was hongjoon rn"

"she can't have hongjoong! he is dating atiny" — "she is atiny tho?" someone replied.

"totally ship them" and it was all enough to make your day.

it's not too long before you come across a reel on instagram that many fans tagged you in; hongjoong reacting to a clip of you simping over him on your livestream. your heartbeat picked up its pace and you sat up properly, raising the volume on your phone as you mentally prepared yourself for the video.

"yahh, i already saw this." he says and you pause the video. fuck. you play it again. "honestly, i thought it was a bit cute." you blush and kick your feet until he speaks again. "it's rare to see junior idols showcasing their admiration for their seniors, but it's really nice, i really like it... especially when they admire me," he shows a heart to the camera. "y/n, if you're watching this, please continue to show your love and support to ateez!"

you were a little disappointed because he seemed to spin it off that you were just a supportive junior/atiny, but you decided to brush it off.

weeks pass and the topic dies down until a photo of you and hongjoong chatting while he signed your album at their fansign event was spreading around the internet and rumors began — you didn't think it would be hidden since it was a public event, but you also didn't think that it would be a scandal. it's your first time being able to chat with hongjoong at all and the dating rumors are just ridiculous. your manager gives you the go signal and you decide to address the rumors by going live in your iconic bed, the lights are dim and you're bare faced, wearing glasses —

"helllooo..." you adjusted the camera at the foot of the bed and you laid on your stomach in front of it. "yesterday... i met kim hongjoong-sunbaenim of ateez..." you paused as you thought about what to say next — you didn't want a script, you wanted to stay yourself: authentic and genuine.

"and today, i was very disappointed because many fates say that we are dating and expressed their hatred for the idea... i would like to point out that i only admire him now as my senior and inspiration for being an idol! i would like to address that, honestly, the dating rumors are a bit ridiculous just because i said i had a crush. it was my first time meeting hongjoong-sunbaenim," your tone was a bit defensive and pouty, you paused as you fiddled with your earring and stared at the camera, snivveling.

"it was my very first time meeting him, it was awkward. more awkward than if he was with a regular fan, maybe because i am an idol and i expressed my admiration for him very publicly, but he was very kind and considerate about it. he really expressed his appreciation for me as his junior and atiny and that was the extent of our interaction. i hope you guys don't spread rumors like this again even if it's true, it would be private business and you shouldn't gossip about someone's love life like this. if you guys like it so much, i suggest you guys focus on your own." you make a light joke of the situation, slightly hoping you don't get hate for that as well. soon after that live, you posted a selfie you took with hongjoong at the fansign event with the caption "forever atiny! 🫶" and you decided to stop and stray away from the whole hongjoong topic because you didn't want to cause him any more trouble.

luckily, after that, many fates decided to come forward and be more open as they showed a lot of support for you and hongjoong.

"this is ridiculous! she shouldn't have to address those dumb rumors, please respect them! they are idols, your baseless rumors could ruin their career."

"i feel so bad for her and hongjoong. i love their innocent chemistry and i believe they should interact more often! male and female idols should be able to interact without being "accused" of dating. like she said, even if they are, it is none of our business! so sad that she'll probably have avoid him after this. so disappointed in whoever made the rumors."

months later, your group and ateez both were in Chicago, USA for your comeback world tour at the same time and while you were there, you decided to attend their concert and you screamed at the top of your lungs and went along every fan chant like a pro, you were far away from the stage so there were no hopes of being noticed — since it was convenient, your managers decided that your group and ateez should collaborate on dances of your comeback title songs, and naturally, you and hongjoong were paired together by your managers in hopes of using this dance as a warning for fans not to mess with the two of you. much to your convenience, the title track of your comeback album is "idgaf."

"hongjoong-sunbaenim!" you slightly jogged over to him and the staff and group members and bowed as deep as you could, your manager and fellow DESTINY members following close by.

"there's no need for that," hongjoong waves you off as you came back up and you chuckle slightly as you awkwardly look around the silent room — you often gossiped with your members about how you'd 'let hongjoong do things to you' among other questionable remarks, and right now you silently hope they wouldn't say a word about it. "i already learned the dance earlier, it's really good! i heard you choreographed it? " hongjoong attempts at small talk and you nod politely in response, holding your hands together, noticing the ateez members behind him glancing at you guys, whispering, and chuckling.

"yes, it took me a month to perfect the choreography before i taught my members." you explain, but before hongjoong could continue, one of the staff unknowingly interrupts your chat.

"okayyy, let's get started! in your positions, please."

you guys complete the dance on the second take, and once it was posted, the fans absolutely adore your chemistry (just as you did) they fawn over the idea of you and hongjoong together (just as you did).

after the posting of the dance, you have a casual live featuring your group mate, nina, who also spoke english. the theme; "doing face masks in my bed and eating ramen." during that very live, you receive a notification while your friend talks to the viewers. you picked you your phone to check what it was, your heart almost literally stopped.

kim hongjoong...

was...

following you back on instagram.

your eyes almost popped out of your head and you let out a really long high pitched screech.

"what? " nina looks at you, befuddled but laughing at your odd reaction. after a few seconds you still don't respond to her as you kick your feet. "ya, what is it? " she attempts once again and lean over your shoulder to check your phone but you slam it down on the bed. you slowly turn to her, trying and failing to contain your smile as you whisper so the audience couldn't hear.

"hongjoong-sunbaenim is following me on instagram..."

her eyes widen and she smiles. "are you sure?" she asked in a high pitched voice and you nodded frantically, showing her your phone. her smile widens and the two of you couldn't hold it in anymore — you both begin squealing and grabbing each others hands live and the fate's comments kept coming in.

"what are you two talking abouttt???"

"i didn't hear what she said!"

fans would soon understand what you were screeching about and this time, instead of dating rumors, it was "feeling" rumors. fans would gossip and speculate about how you two obviously had feelings for each other, other speculations include your "random chemistry" with hongjoong to be a marketing strategy — to always put you two together to gather more attention, likes, and fan reactions.

what they don't know is that they are correct on both accounts; because you and hongjoong so obviously had feelings each other the staff would always put you together.

the tipping point.

hongjoong posted a picture on his story of a ticket purchase to your world tour comeback concert.

the concert is coming to an end.

DESTINY is singing the encore, which is also your last chance; ever since hongjoong posted that on his story you made a plan. but you told everyone that it was in the heat of the moment when you did it. that's what you told yourself — the adrenaline, your sore muscles, your vocal cords beginning to strain, the screams of fate, the sound of your heartbeat, the thought of hongjoong. your lines in the song were coming close — before the beat drops, you skip toward the center and you raise your hand, microphone close to your mouth, you screamed.

"HONGJOONG-SUNBAENIM!" you scream out, your voice echoing through the arena. "this one's for you!" the fate fans erupt into a frenzy of deafening screams and cheers. the stunned expressions of the DESTINY members are captured on the iphone cameras held by fans. "FATE! let me hear you FUCKING SCREAM YOUR HEARTS OUT!" you shout, launching into the chorus of the song. as the beat drops and the intensity kicks in, everything around you becomes a hazy blur, and for a moment, your mind goes blissfully blank.

as the concert reaches its finale, the members of DESTINY retreat backstage to catch their breath and decompress. you immediately seek refuge in the nearest chair, plopping down and exhaling a loud, tired sigh.

"ya, y/n, what were you thinking?" nina sits on the chair next to you. "we don't know what could happen now."

that was the worst possible feeling to have as an idol. the anxiety of what comes next.

...it reminded you of the time mingi swore to jongho on a live.

"it's not that big of a deal," you say as you chug and finish an entire bottle of water. "it's to feed fate's hunger..."

"yaaah, how you think hongjoong-sunbaenim would react? " she ponders and you shrug, choosing not to think about it. despite your nonchalant demeanor, you completely regret it. 'how would everyone react?' sure, you constantly openly express your admiration for him everywhere else, but onstage was something else, 'what happened to professionalism?' you sigh and put your hand on your forehead. you're going to get in a lot of trouble with your manager now.

that nonsense yet iconic line would get you the title of the "most ballsy k-pop leader of the 5th generation " which is also the headline of the hit article that would later accuse you of being "too forward" with your "poor attempt" at bringing modern media and standards to korean culture and k-pop. back then, your line at the concert would not be acceptable, but now there are so many of your fans — your fates defending you, supporting you, and fighting all of the haters and closed fates who openly express their distaste and negativity for your unprofessional behaviour. you still believe that you deserve at least half of it.

it's no surprise that hongjoong doesn't share or post any public reaction to your iconic line of 2024, unlike you, an immature newer idol, he has been in the entertainment industry longer and is an expert on how to maintain professionalism, especially when it comes to dating scandals. agh, he probably lost his respect for you after that moment.

another few weeks pass. to your surprise, even after your unprofessional behaviour, DESTINY was invited to an award show, and during one of the performances, nature called, so you got up to head to the bathroom. in one of the hallways, the smallest of small chances and the most cliche of cliches happened. you and hongjoong stood in front of each other at the hallway that led to the bathrooms, you bow deeply and greet him softly, a bit embarrased you hunch in shame. "hello..."

"y/n-ah! " he's surprisingly relaxed, he raises a hand forward and you awkwardly double check it before high fiving him and he puts it back in his pocket. "how are you? i've actually been a bit of a fate myself these past few weeks and that thing you said at the concert wasss, wow."

'okay, so he addressed the elephant in the room just like that. was it even the elephant for him? it seemed like a koala, or... a chipmunk or something.' goes through your mind. you awkwardly chuckle and push your hair away from your face. "yeah... i'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, i've regretted it ever since—"

"no! you don't have to be. it was cool. really cool. i liked it." he says. his cute, reassuring smile remains and you can't help but smile back.

"really?" you ask, you don't how pathetic you sound asking it but hongjoong liked how it came out of your mouth — your personality now is so soft-spoken and different from the "ballsy 5th gen leader" the internet made you out to be, he adored the duality. "i was actually super nervous, i was afraid you would think i ruined the face of my group or something and unfollow me on instagram..." you ramble nervously.

"ya, i would never! " he said and took his phone out. "i am a certified fate from here on out, you and are- are the fate-inies." he handed you his phone. "i was actually wondering if we can exchange contacts?" you look at him, shocked painted across your face.

"really???" you ask and don't hesitate to grab his phone. "of course!" you try your best not to sound too eager but of course, you fail. hongjoong laughs at your innocent reaction and you return his phone. he smiles, satisfied, and lifts it up and shaking the screen in front of you.

"i'll text you," he says casually. "will you reply?" you nod, trying to contain your smile because you don't wanna scare him away.

"of course! why else would i give you my number?" he makes way for you in the small hallway and mumbles a farewell as he waves his hand and he begins to walk away, you turn and watch him until he's out of sight before you run to the bathroom, slam the door behind you and scream your lungs out in the mirror. you totally lost the urge to pee and you return to your groupmates immediately after, already gossiping about what went down. later that night, DESTINY wins an award, you celebrate, and head back to your dorm, wash up and fall on your bed where you would receive a text from hongjoong.

hongjoong: "yo! congratulations on your win! i was very happy when DESTINY was announced and saw you onstage ㅋㅋㅋㅋ."

you bite your nail, thinking of your response.

you: "hi! tysm! congratulations on your award as well. it's expected of ateez-sunbaenim, i already see it coming ㅋㅋㅋ"

hongjoong: "ah, don't be like that. it's hard to live up to expectations"

you chuckle at his response. his typing style was different than you expected. you got ready to type out another response until he messaged again.

hongjoong: "btw, when r u available? we should celebrate our win together. as leaders."

your heart skips a beat... or two. is he asking you out?

you: "how about tomorrow night?"

hongjoong: "oh, no can do. ateez celebration party tomorrow with a few close friends."

you sigh and you're about to put your phone down for the night when you reel another vibration.

hongjoong: "unless u wanna come? ur more than welcome"

you: "idk, it might not be the best choice. will there be other female idols there?"

hongjoong: "uhh, ur being kinda dubious. do you want there to be female idols?"

you: "yes pls"

hongjoong: "then there will be female idols there. why? are you going to choose them over me?"

you: "ㅋㅋㅋㅋ only if the entirety of blackpink are there."

hongjoong: "it might seem crazy what i'm 'bout to say..."

hongjoong: "sorry but lisa was all we could book 4 the night"

you: "U FR?!"

hongjoong: "no"

hongjoong: "ateez is not made of gold. lisa-sunbaenim is also busy with more important matters"

hongjoong: "ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ"

hongjoong: "...are you still coming?"

hongjoong: "..."

hongjoong: "y/n?"

you: "yes! it sounds great"

hongjoong: "great. i'll send u the details, see u there ;)"

...is that a fucking winky face? you swear this man is the bane of your existence.

you go to the party alone — and surprisingly, it isn't the small gathering you expected, there were so many recognizable faces, not just of idols, but actors. the venue is a large vip lounge of an underground club in the city. the interior was obnoxious and practically made of gold —you look around and see choi san leaning on a wall, alone. he's a familiar face that you're comfortable talking with. you make eye contact across the room and you walk your way toward him confidently. "hello, sunbaenim!! congratulations on your win~" you give him a soft smile and he smiles back, taking a sip from the glass in his hand — is that brandy? you watch as he silently puts the cup down on the table next to him without so much as a thanks to your greeting, he puts his hands on each of your cheeks, and you wonder if his drunk until you're flustered as he forcibly turns your head 90° to the right.

"hyung is over there."

you easily recognize your hongjoong.

he is chatting with who you recognize to be bang chan of stray kids but your eyes just lock in on him — everyone else around is suddenly blurred and he's the only one you see. you focus on the way his lips move as he speaks, the way he softly nods — this is him when he thinks you're not watching and it's so damn hot, him being himself. the mere fact that he breathes is hot. damn, you're so in love. san chuckles at how you already forgot he was next to you, he conks you in the head and walks away.

you walk toward hongjoong and excuse yourself to their conversation. "y/n!" he says enthusiastically and places a hand around your shoulders. "bang chan, i'm sure your familiar," hongjoong says casually and he makes eye contact with someone in the room — getting distracted, he walks away. of course, it's his group's celebratoon party, you weren't the only guest he would tend to. you awkwardly look up at bang chan and wave.

"hi, sunbaenim! i really love maniac and superbowl, amazing songs!" you give him two thumbs ups and he giggles bashedly, almost blushing — you knew bangchan to alwayd be a flustered mess, he never knew how to react to compliments. "also, i subscribed to your bubble once, wowwww." you tried to make small talk and he laughed once more.

"yeahhh, i can get pretty crazy there. you know, i would also watch your lives sometimes, you're funny!" he says, and you smile.

"you really think so? aaah, i know i have a lot of cringe moments, especially when i first revealed my crush on hongjoong."

"oh yeah, no, it wasn't cringe at all! everybody in the industry already saw your chemistry from before you mentioned it. i totally support you guys haha." he speaks casually and your eyes widen.

"wh-what? support our what? what do we have? what chemistry?" you ramble and bang chan chuckles.

"relax, relax — it's nothing, just, we see your flirting here and there and you two would be so cute together. but, if you want my advise, i wouldn't recommend going public with it, honestly. DESTINY— it's DESTINY, right? you guys just debuted, i don't think having a public relationship with an idol older than you is the right career choice this early on." he says and you nod along, you totally understood where he was coming from but when you stayed silent too long for comfort, bangchan tilted his head. "hey? did i say something wrong?"

you snapped your attention back at him. "hm? yeah, i mean NO! i completely understand what you said and i agree. plus, there's nothinggg between me and hongjoong, we're just... i don't know we're, okay, so there might be a little bit of a thing, but it'll take a long time until it actually becomes something~" you giggle and bangchan giggles as well and the two of you are just a giggling mess and hongjoong comes back to join your group.

"hey, what's all the giggling about?" he moves his head to look at you, then bang chan, then you, then bang chan — "isn't this your first time being acquainted? why are you two having so much fun without me? " then bangchan just smiles, then looks at you, then hongjoong, then you, then hongjoong.

"i'll get going nowww~" he says in a goofy tone and walks away.

"what's with him?" hongjoong mutters and looks at you. "have you eaten? eat! there's plenty of appetizers and foods around—"

"hongjoong-sunbaenim," you interrupt him. "ah, no... hongjoong-oppa." you look up at him, and he stares at you, expression blank but clearly flustered at the new title he got from you. "what are we?" you decide to live up to your title as the most ballsy kpop leader of the 5th generation and he chokes on air, eyebrows raising and eyes blinking repeatedly as he processes what you said.

"um," hongjoong looks around the room nervously, maybe concerned if anyone overheard what you just said. "i... like- hm? huh? i-" he can barely get a word out and you tilt your head, maybe you shouldn't have been to forward, it was wayyy too soon.

"sorry, you don't have to answer." you say calmly and he lets out a very obvious sigh of relief and you chuckle.

"felt like i was trying to defuse a time bomb." he laughs, holding a hand over his chest and you smile as not to ruin the mood, but your next question would do just that for you.

"but... be honest, this is more than a friendship, right? " you can see his smile falter ever so slightly and the silent pause is way too long for comfort. maybe you shouldn't have asked.

"...we'll see where it goes, yeah? " hongjoong smiles. you nod in understanding and he pets your head ever-so-softly as not to ruin your hair. "let's go, let's enjoy the party."

later that night, he takes you to your dorm in the same car he is being driven home in — he waves goodbye and you bow politely. "i'll text you!" hongjoong says, loud enough for you to hear. the car drives off in the distance and you smile and wave. "i'll reply!" you yell back.

your relationship lasted in the talking stage for a few months. rumors were nonexistent because you and hongjoong didn't have to express your attraction to each other through lives and posts and stories anymore, fans assumed it was because the staff felt the tension between you two died down and stopped using it for clout, little did they know that it all began hiding behind closed doors through hundreds of flirty texts and phone calls, cute selcas, handmade gifts, ordering food for each other, occasional video calls, and personal dates throughout your busy schedule. you were practically dating now but you and hongjoong never had a label.

"so, what are you guys? " wooyoung would ask.

hongjoong takes a moment to answer as he scrolls through his laptop. "...we're in a situationship."

"aren't you a little too old to be afraid of commitment?"

"ya, bastard—"

it wouldn't take too long for your "situationship" to spread among other idols and since everyone else was pretty closed off or "careful" it was the gossip of the industry.

about 6 months into whatever you and hongjoong had; you two were alone together in the living room of his dorm, everyone else was out and about, busy tending to their own lives leaving you two were finally alone together. one of the few moments you treasured. you laid comfortably into his chest as you both focused on wonka (timothee ver.) playing on the flat screen tv. hongjoong subconsciously pets your hair every now and then and you nuzzled deeper into his chest but there was a lingering thought in your head that you have been meaning to ask.

"hongjoong-oppa..." you mumble. hongjoong humms in response — you feel the vibration of his voice against your ear that rests just above his chest. you shuffled to look at him, he glances at you, seeing that you're a bit serious, he pauses the movie and he sits up a bit. "...is it still to early to ask what we are?"

hongjoong's expression doesn't change. it makes it hard for you to read him and how he feels about the question you have been too scared to ask these past few weeks. hongjoong doesn't respond however, just looking at you with clueless eyes. you sigh, expressing your disappointment and gently push him back into his position on the couch and laid back on top of him.

"nevermind." you murmur. you don't wanna force him into rushing the relationship or do anything he's uncomfortable with, but you don't want to wait too long either. shouldn't the two of you always be on the same page? you sigh again the more you thought about it, but your thoughts were interrupted as soon as hongjoong pushed you back up into your position.

"no," he simply said. "it's not too soon. in fact, it's a little late." he began and you started listening to him, pout evident on your face. hongjoong takes a deep breath. "the truth is, i have been thinking about this topic... me and some of the members would talk about it, and they kept telling me to "put a label on it," but my response was always that i was too scared." you looked at him, brows furrowed. "i really like you, y/n. it scares me." he whispers.

"...you don't... have to be scared." you say softly.

"i know, i know—" he rubs his forehead and he lets out a deep sigh. "but a label makes it so official, y'know...? "

"i know, oppa, but if our relationship, is not going anywhere then we might as well stop now." you can feel the anger in you bubbling up. "i don't date around, you know. you said yourself that you wanted to see where this would go, it's been months and after everything we've done together, i still can't believe we're not even called boyfriend and girlfriend," you pause to take a breath and calm yourself down. "i don't want to force you anything, but i just, i can't help but think that you don't want to continue this but you're too afraid to tell me. i don't want to wake up tomorrow and you change your mind and decide that you don't want me anymore, i need to propose an ultimatum." you pause, licking your lips nervously. "if you don't want to be my boyfriend now then maybe you shouldn't be my boyfriend at all."

you rambled on like you usually do, but hongjoong doesn't want to interrupt you, he never wanted to, he loves listening to you talk, but hearing the words that came out of your mouth upset him.

"...y/n, don't get me wrong," he began. "i want to be your boyfriend and i want you to be my girlfriend, i want a label, but you have to understand that it's hard for me..." he explained calmly, voice soft.

his words don't change how you feel, and you frown. "then why? what are you waiting for—? " your words are interrupted when you feel his lips smash into yours in a soft and wet kiss, it's almost aggressive but eventually, it melts into a tender, passionate connection before pulling away. you look at hongjoong, a little dazed but befuddled. that was the last thing you expected but somehow it calmed your nerves, unlike his words. you look away from him as a blush creeps into your face — that was your first ever kiss with him. "why'd you do that..? "

"because, y/n," hongjoong softly squishes your cheeks and guides you to look into his eyes. "you're beautiful. not just physically — your personality is beautiful, your passion is beautiful... you're a wonderful person and i am very lucky to have you." you're glad that you're looking at him because you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "...and i love how much you care and i- i know that i am ready to have a label, it's just that i told you... i'm scared... but, i guess, we don't always jump into things prepared..." he says and your expression softens. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him just a little bit closer. "y/n... can i be your boyfriend?" he asks softly.

"of course. what's wrong with you?" you playfully hit his chest and pull him into another short kiss. "i literally had a breakdown about the fact that you didn't wanna be my boyfriend and you're still asking me if i want you to be my boyfriend?" you laugh, hongjoong leans in, another small kiss.

"ya, don't tease me." he mumbles against your lips and you smile mischievously.

"or what~?" you ask, suggestively tilting your head as you look into his gorgeous eyes. hongjoong simply chuckles at your boldness and pecks your cheek, pulling you in for a proper hug and he whispers in your ear.

"don't push it," you were shocked at how deep his voice became. "i might not be able to contain myself..." he says casually and lays back down as if he didn't just leave you wet. "...right, let's continue the movie." he grabs the remote from the table and unpauses it. you just sit there, high and dry.

it's been a year since you and hongjoong have been together, fans are still unaware but catch on to random hints and slip-ups here and there but usually they are too far fetched to be considered a "soft launch" (like you accidentally calling hongjoong "oppa" on a livestream), and only ateez and DESTINY know that your relationship is official official (even your managers don't know, which made it super difficult to go on dates.)

their reactions include but are not limited to:

"finally. you two were beginning to be insufferable..." — DESTINY

"NO WAYYY!?!? THAT'S SO GREAT!!!" — Ateez

"oppaaa!" you yell loudly as you enter the dance studio hongjoong and a few of his members were practicing in. it was late at night and not many people were in the building at the time, you ran over to him and jumped in his arms.

"hi, baby! what are you doing here so late?" he kisses your cheek as he carries you by your thighs against him and you look into his eyes.

"why? can't i see my baby while he's working? " your arms are wrapped around his neck and you kiss his nose, he smiles and scrunches his nose, nuzzling it into yours like a rabbit.

"ahh, come on, you know you're my baby!" he says in a sweet aegyo voice and you giggle. he puts you down and seonghwa walks by.

"come on guys, seriously, i think i might barf..."

"i know, 'oppa, you're my baby, not just that — i want your babies~'" san decides to join in and mock you two with a skit and feigning a high pitched voice. pretending to be you and that seonghwa was hongjoong, playfully hitting his chest.

"ya, stop that, you weirdo—" seonghwa chuckles and hits san back.

you both ignore them, already used to their antics. you hold hongjoong's hands, looking into his eyes. "oppa, wanna go get a snack?"

"totally! let's go." he lets go of your left hand and holds on to your right as he leads you out the dancing studio and into the corridor. "so, where are we going?"

"what? why would i know? i thought you knew." you say, dumbfounded.

"why should i know? you're the one who suggested that we go out for a snack!" he exclaims.

"okay, okay! sooo... let's just go back to the dancing studio? " you turn around and hongjoong pauses, his smile remains the same.

"...actually, i have something else in mind." his voice is soft yet deep — you tilt your head in curiosity as he leads you to the end of the corridor and to the elevators, clicking the down button.

"...soo, are you going to tell me or..?"

"let's hang out in my studio."

this was undeniably the smartest idea Hongjoong had come up with since the beginning of your relationship (considering your surprise). it was incredibly rare for the two of you to get some precious alone time together, so you vowed to savor every single moment. laying on the couch in your favorite position (with you comfortably sprawled on top of him), a soothing silence enveloped the room, where the sound of your synchronized breathing patterns filled the air.

"'joong," you mumble, almost falling asleep, eyes closed. you shift on top of him and feel something rather peculiar down there. your eyes shot wide open. "'joong?!" you playfully hit his chest and sit up. "ya, i thought we were just chilling!"

"sorry! sorry- i couldn't help it, you were positioned so-" he pauses, staring at you as you urged him to continue with a smile and furrowed brows. "nevermind, nevermind, lay back down. it's chill, i promise."

"no," you suddenly say.

"no???" hongjoong questions. "wh- what do you mean?" he tries to laugh it off.

"i mean no, you said it was my fault. i have to help you," you innocently said and slid off of him, going on your knees on the floor.

"woah, woah, woah, wait- no, y/n, i can't let you do that," hongjoong attempts to pull you back up, but you refuse, your hands rest on his thighs, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, eagerly waiting for him to say yes. it's difficult for hongjoong to say no to that expression, he curses under his breath, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. "ahh, shit." he grumbles. "have you ever even sucked a dick, y/n?" he looks down at you, and you shake your head.

"no," you innocently respond. "but i can learn with you right? it's difficult for me to have a sex life, y'know, with our schedules and all."

"yeah, yeah…" he looks away, hand covering the flush of his cheeks.

"…wait," you suddenly stood up. "is this your way of telling me you've been sucked off before?"

"was that your way of telling me you've never been fucked before?" hongjoong quipped.

"is that your other way of telling me you've fucked someone else before?!" you shot back.

he chuckles, "c'mon, baby, this is a good thing!" he runs his hands up and down your arms, attempting to soothe your annoyance, although he's not quite sure whether you're joking or serious. "i could teach you a thing or two, you know? how does that sound, sweetheart?" he stands up and spins around, gently guiding you to sit on the couch with him. despite your earlier irritation, you can't help but giggle as he showers your face with kisses, eventually kissing your lips and coaxing you to lay down on the couch as the make-out session intensifies. he climbs on top of you, grinding his hips into yours, you whine into his kiss. "you like that?" hongjoong mumbles in between kisses, abruptly pulling away to rid of his clothing, prompting you to get rid of yours.

you were practically drooling over his cock, already waiting for him to trace it to your entrance as he wrapped his hand tightly around himself, but he didn't. instead, he leaned back on the other end of the couch, head thrown back as he pumped himself hard. as much as you were disappointed, you gotta say, what a fucking sight. the kim hongjoong was masturbating in front of you, to you. eager, you leaned forward and wrapped your hands around his hand that pumped his cock, wanting to make his job easier, hongjoong stared at you blankly for a moment, considering what he should let you do, slowly, he guided your hands to wrap around his thick girth, urging you to pump up and down, occassionally squeezing at the tip, watching as his precum escaped.

"fuck," hongjoong cursed under his breath. "ah, shit, shit, wait," he pulled your hands off of him. concerned you might've hurt him or done a bad job, you pulled away and watched as he ran a hand through his hair. "sorry, i was just so close to cumming." he mumbled, covering his face with both hands in shame.

you tilt your head, confused. "that's a good thing, though."

"no, no, i wanna make you cum first, baby…" his hand met your cheek, stroking it gently. "you want my tongue or fingers?"

"mmh, cock…" you mumbled, laying on your back and spreading your legs, showing your pretty, tight hole on fully display for him to use. "i want your cock, hongjoong…"

"fuck," hongjoong cllimbed over you and eagerly placed his tip at your entrance. who the hell was he to say no to his innocent baby? he stuck two fingers inside you, collectine some of your arousal to wrap around his cock as lubrication, "fuck, will you be able to take me?" he slowly pushed his tip inside, already struggling as your poor pussy hole fluttered around him. "baby, i don't think it'll fit-" he almost laughed.

"it'll fit!" you whined, grabbing his bare forearms. "i've fingered myself thinking about this moment many times, baby, it'll fit, make it fit, please, i want this, rip me apart, baby-"

slowly, hongjoong bottomed out inside you. the stretch stinging you — he almost came at your mere words and he didn't want to hear another second of it, so he patiently settled inside you for a moment, letting you get used to the sensation before he couldn't take it anymore. he might accidently cum inside you with the way your tight virgin hole squeezed around his long, fat cock. his pace started off slow, he pulled out at his tip before harshly slamming back inside you. you whined. "j-joong," you blubbered. "not too hard."

"okay, baby, i'm sorry," hongjoong leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips before slamming back inside you, slowly and gently. he set the vanilla pace. fuck, fuck, fuck, he was fucking you so good. you hated the thought that he had done this with other girls, but then again, if he didn't then he probably wouldn't have had the skill to fuck you like this right now.

"aah- faster," you whined and hongjoong complied, wanting nothing but to please you, to make your first time memorable. he thrust harder into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot you never even knew existed. "aah! ahhh~!" you involuntarily whined, you had never felt so good in your life, you never felt this before, the desire to reach your climax and the desire to never want this feeling to end. "i-i'm cumming, 'joong-" you whined as he fucked harder into you, abrupt thrusts, his head rested in the crook of your neck, letting out soft groans, his warm breath against your skin.

"cum for me, baby, that's right," he groaned as you squeezed tightly around him, creaming around his cock. "fuck, fuck, that's right baby…" he whispered, reaching his climax as well and painting your insides whiter than they have ever been.

"mmng…" you moaned, you couldn't get a word out even if you wanted to. too fucked out to form a coherent thought, hongjoong stayed inside of you until he softened. he pulled out, placing a kiss on your lips and nose.

"fuck, you took me so well, baby, you know that?" he made his way to face your pussy and began pushing the cum back inside your small hole. "mmh, your first time, you had a creampie? what a dirty slut you are, hmm?" he whispered, kissing the inside of your thigh before grabbing your discarded panties from the floor and sliding it back up your legs. all you could let out was a helpless whine, hongjoong dressed himself up, climbing into the couch wiht you, cuddling your naked, fucked out form into his fully clothed one. "sleep, baby, i'll clean you up at my dorm tomorrow, m'kay?"

"y'sure..?"

"yes, baby, don't worry."

[dansemacabre]

are you stuck trying to decode the book of bill but you don’t want the keys handed to you? i was in your shoes literally three days ago! i failed and looked up codes on reddit (because a good grade in book of bill is a normal thing to want and a possible thing to get) but now you don’t have to!! here are some BOOK OF BILL CODEBREAKING HINTS designed to kindly shove you in the right direction!

my credentials are: one summer cryptography class i took in high school, autism, weirdly good pattern recognition (probably because of the autism), and a desperate need to make things make sense. sorry in advance if any of this seems patronizing. hints below the page break!!

general tips:

- A and I will become your bestest friends. like 99 times out of 100 any single letter is a or i. try those out first

- the apostrophe will also become your bestest friend- especially x’x, which will almost always be i’m (except there’s one place in the book where it is not. don’t make my mistakes.)

- themysteryofgravityfalls.com is SO so helpful. for non-symbolic ciphers u can lowkey put in codes and button mash caesar and atbash. godsend. devilsend? idk someone sent it and it’s wonderful

- call every phone number, visit every website. they bought those domains for a reason! i think!

- any list of numbers 1-26 is a1z26. like that’s simply a truth

cipher specific hints now !!!

RUNES (characters taken from norse runes)

- there is a key for this one in the book! maybe u spotted it right away but i did not lol, so look for an instance of 26 rune-y characters!

- the rune code on the inside cover is a graffiti joke- translates to a common thing people write on walls or carve into books made out of brain matter ig

THERAPESE (found in the last few pages during bills court-ordered therapy)

- bill’s picture is labeled in this section, so those characters translate directly to “bill cipher” ! once you have those, you can apply them to other instances of the code and go from there

- the rest of the names of the… things around him on the inpatients page are puns, titles, and/or weird words. they might look wrong until you have Every Character- trust ur key! use the rest of the instances of this code to find the missing letters first, make sense of it and laugh at the clever little joke later

BROSCODE (only two instances, found in journal 3 lost pages)

- the name is a hint by itself- this is stanley and stanford related! both stans use it once somewhere in the book!

NEWBILL (the most common symbolic cipher in the book)

- if you have journal three, the characters are VERY similar to a code there- not the same though, so don’t try and use that key. but like journal three, this code will (almost) always be bill speaking.

- ok lowkey i think the best way to explain this is just to give you one answer. i cracked this by randomly guessing that the small writing by the galaxy drawing on the journal three page “a voice form the past” translates to “forget the past”. go from there my loves

- that being said. everything else from journal three uses the same characters, but a different code. haven’t cracked it yet. looking for advice tee bee haych. i’ll edit this once i find it out

- also: dipper uses this code in his section. that’s pretty helpful to get most of the rest of the characters!

now some page specific hints!:

silly straw page. Oh god

- damn that themysteryofgravityfallsdotcom sure is helpful! Anyway,

- the numbers code is Weird. but the number don’t equal letters. notice the spaces between number groups- pair the groups, try and add a dash somewhere within the first group and a colon somewhere within the second group. you’ll have to use your resources a little

- if that made zero sense: “uhvrxufhv” phdqv brxu idyrulwh ghhsob ohjdo wy vkrz ylhzlqj zhevlwh. ru brxu kxox dffrxqw

- sorry for the vagueness but i really don’t want to spoil this one- i got it spoiled but i think figuring it out on your own would be really rewarding and worth your Time

messages on your tv

- there are strange boxes on the bottom of the page. gonna be so honest don’t know how they mean anything at all to anyone but allegedly it’s a code! i’ll look into it. idk man

okay. i think that’s all i’ve got? please comment if u have questions for me or other folks on here or suggestions on how to sound less like a fucking nerd talking abt this shit. idk i love that people are set on cracking this book asap but i hope this helps ppl who prefer The Thrill Of The Chase and also like to feel smart and important and so very talented

[woofwof21]

MOVIE DATES / CHRIS STURNIOLO

idk if im back or not but here's something !!

also i had no idea what to make the title be but this'll do ig lol

warnings? idk: chris sturniolo x reader, use of y/n, use of cursewords, fluff, relatively long story i think

"chris, come onnnn!!!"

i wiggle my hand around in the air, impatiently waiting for my boyfriend to finally get out of the car while he has the AUDACITY to suddenly take ages with the most simple task of pressing down onto a little button and getting his ass off the damn seatwarmer.

"hold onnn, babe! ill be right with you", he replies and after a few more loud clashing noises and plastic ruffling he finally steps out of the passenger seat, slamming the car door shut.

my eyes widen, noticing his hands gripping onto a tiny quarter-shaped box in one and an even tinier plastic bag in the other.

"for you", he proudly announces with the most stupidest grin spread wide across his cheeks that causes a teenage-girl-like giggle to escape my lips.

as chris walks up closer, holding the contenments in his hands right up to me, i recognise lots of strawberries stacked up on one another in the plastic bag. the bag is sweetly decorated with tiny hearts that were, respectfully, pretty obviously drawn onto by chris....and a shiny, golden string is tied into an average looking bow around the top as closure.

"oh my god, baby are you serious??!"

my voice echoes loudly through the entire parking lot, but i don't even care. i shift my gaze to look back into his beautiful eyes and notice the smile on his face softened into a look that pretty much expressed his love to me in all the right ways which causes my stomach to tighten with butterflies that fill it up to the brim.

"i saw a little fruit stand on a street and thought like 'oh y/n likes strawberries!', so i got you strawberries", he explains nonchalantly as if this wasn't the most adorable thing he could've ever possibly done.

"that is SO sweet!! thank you SO much!!!"

my arms snake through the small space between arms and torso, wrapping them around his waist to give him a good squeeze.

he chuckles while draping his arms over my shoulders. i feel the warm palm of his hand rub up and down my back while casually giving me the warmest, most comforting hug i'll ever receive.

"you're welcome"

i feel his soft lips swiftly brush against my forehead in a light kiss before pulling put of the embrace.

he shoves the gifts right up against my chest, into my arms and places his hand on the small of my back, gently pressing down to set my feet back into walking pace.

"we're gonna miss the movie", he states as he guiding me through the parking lot and i roll my eyes while silently inspecting my presents, twisting and turning the box wich appears to have some chocolates inside and running my thumb over the adorable little drawn on hearts on the plastic bag.

"wait, we can't take those with us into the movie theater, babe!"

i look up to him with worried eyes and notice the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk. the devious glint in his eyes causes my brows to furrow in confusion. what the fuck is that fucker on.

"don't worry, i know what to do"

???

as we reach the frontdoors of the building i trip on my feet, feeling his hand wrap around my arm and pulling me to the side.

he grabs the box from my hand and slides it under his hoodie before snatching the strawberries out of my grasp and shoving them under my shirt aswell.

all i can do is give him a disappointed look and shake my head left to right...that was his solution??

"dude, you can CLEARLY see this, chris you can't be serious", i exclaim while running my hand over the very obvious bulge on my shirt which even causes the plastic to crinkle and echo through the whole goddamn street!

chris laughs at the plain disappointment my furrowed brows presented and presses his lips on my wrinkled forehead as he places his hand on the bump.

"we're pregnant!!", he announces with a way too proud grin like he made the creation of the century

"you're fucking kidding me"

chris once again breaks out into a fit of laughter. he's enjoying this a little too much and the fact that he's being absolutely fucking adorable about it irritates me even more. how the fuck am i supposed to be mad at this dumbass when he's like this????

once he's FINALLY calmed back down he grips onto my hand, dragging me back to the entrance and i defeatedly stare at the stupid smirk that remained spread wide from cheek to cheek, showing off his teeth "come on"

we step inside the movie theater and my heart starts racing in thoughts of what the fuck would actually happen if they caught us.

i mean obviously they would just throw the food into the bin and then just continue on following to the script, tell us to enjoy our movie and have a nice day and whatever....

'oh my god, what if the cops get involved??'

'girl calm down, it's just food, no one really gives THAT much of a shit'

'wait, maybe they're gonna just start laughing and give us a pass!'

'okay you're not THAT special'

i get pulled out of my thoughts at the feeling of chris' lips press against my forehead and look up to him confused as he once again smirks down at me. he leans closer to my ear, his arm that is now draped around my shoulder squeezes me slightly more against his chest and a shiver runs down my spine once his breath hits my neck and the softness of his whispering-voice travels through my ear.

"told you we'd make it through"

my head practically jolts to look behind us and i now realize we've surpassed the security. holy shit, was i deep in thought.

k bye 😭

i've been tryna get myself to write like..not about chris for once heh but like idfk this is like my forth time writing like a one shot ever anyway so like whatever

[toskarin]

just because I'm thinking about it, here's one of those periodic posts where I list off a few random youtube channel recommendations I've been enjoying lately (or have been enjoying long-term (or for any length of time really))

Masaru. - I like fishing. but I can't do it at the moment. Masaru also likes to fish. he free dives, he brings a fish up, he cooks the fish, then he says how it tastes. sometimes it is an unusual fish. sometimes it tastes good. sometimes it tastes wretched. he will tell you. this singlehandedly solves basically every single complaint I have with most cooking/fishing channels. this is cocomelon to me

MIQ(MIO) - it's MIQ! one of the strongest anison vocalists of... well, basically ever. it's her official channel! she uploads concert recordings, karaoke advice for her own songs, and general updates on what she's doing here. I'm always aghast when I see how low her viewcounts are, given that she's an industry legend who's been going strong for over 40 years.

bellykelly - vinyl collector, uploading some really good cuts that you'd be hard-pressed to find anywhere else. one of those channels where I'm always up to date on uploads, and when I fall behind, I just playlist it all to catch up

Xerxes Vinyl Classics - vinyl collector, hasn't upload in a while, but has lots of older releases and remix pressings that are otherwise pretty rare. has some of the higher quality recordings of cantopop releases that are otherwise a little difficult to listen to in acceptable quality

Zuka Zhvania - music-enjoyer and song-uploader with a VERY frequent upload schedule. he's (as far as I know) not an official promoter or anything, but he's pretty damned good at keeping the tunes coming. if you're looking for someone to set you on some obscure industrial and house cuts, check out this channel

LIVING ONLY RECORDS - official channel for a doujin label with some absolutely fantastic noise rock, punk, and shoegaze bands on it. it's my understanding that this is less of "a record label" and more of a way for 群青リボン and friends to book out live houses together while selling merch at one table. which is a pretty noble cause

Someone45356 - probably laying pretty safe claim to the title of "most genre-firsts in the touhou doujin scene," Someone45356 is a strong recommend just for the level of care they put into their arrangements. I love their video thumbnails and their arrangement notes in the video description. a great channel at any level of musical interest (but an ESPECIALLY good channel if you're also a musician)

UPROAR24 - sick and tired of plguin and samplepack demo videos that are 75% ad copy by volume and still don't manage to show you the stupid thing in action? tired of looking at questionably-useful free vsts and not being able to tell whether you're even comfortable having that rubbish on your pc? UPROAR24 runs a channel that's pretty explicitly a reaction to this, making dodgy demos of dodgier plugins. works lovely as a catalogue to browse when you're looking for a new toy

USUDA - the pillar of the Armored Core fan community, USUDA has arranged more Armored Core music than anyone else short of actual FromSoft staff. he also releases his music for free download, including his midi arrangements. very friendly guy in all the interactions I've seen, and also pretty good at remembering people he's seen in other comment sections. I'd honestly shoot him a message first if I had any questions about arranging songs from these games lol

Ricardo Cruz - if you've listened to any portugese (br) covers of anison, you've heard Ricardo Cruz. even if you only listen to originals, there's still a pretty fucking solid chance you've heard him, because he's a JAM Project contributor. absolutely wonderful channel if you like watching skilful singers duet with other powerhouses

Saint Mauve - the best Hellsinker channel on youtube, which isn't an especially competitive title. but I think Saint Mauve would probably still be the best Hellsinker channel on youtube even if there were more than like three. my qualifier for when I've found something weird in the Hellsinker periphery is when I haven't seen Saint Mauve post about it. also plays other (often HS-adjacent) doujin stg and has good opinions on them

Tom Green - this is a weird recommendation but if you don't intuitively understand the appeal of a now-early-50s Tom Green calmly talking about his farm animals and riding around on a horse for hours at a time, I'm really not sure I can sell you on it. oddly calming

mercurytower - this channel is run by Asa, the musician behind Souvenirs to Forget. before they started releasing their original work, this was mostly used to upload guitar covers (which are good, but guitar covers aren't really enough to make me give a glowing recommendation of a channel). Souvenirs to Forget is a really exciting solo project and one I'm personally keeping an eye on. naturally, they upload their releases to this channel

Trance Classics - vinyl collector, records videos to go with the music, focuses more or less entirely on trance. I've got no excuse here. I just fucking love trance and always have, so you can pander to me really easily by just making a channel like this. if you like trance, it has hours and hours of trance

SJ HanStone Lee - the early-gen Mabinogi composer, among a lot of other things. it's been a while since he's posted anything new on this channel, but I check in every now and again. by my reckoning, one of the best mmo composers (and honestly one of the best game composers in general) of the past two decades. there's some stuff on here and his soundcloud that serves as wink-wink-nudge-nudge loveletters to his time working on the early Mabinogi soundtrack

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Cooking with Felix ‗ ❍

Pairing : Felix x f reader

Summary : chapter six of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, fluff, crack lol, disasters in the kitchen but that's it

Word count : 990 words (longest yet)

A/n : Just got the news that him and Seungmin are living together...they'll live off brownies and cookies I fear. Also the green muffins story it's true, that's me I'm bitches

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You and Felix both had a thing for the kitchen. Wether this was good or bad, well, it depended on the situation.

Felix had an extraordinary gift for baking sweets, specifically. His cookies, banana bread and brownies were renowned for being amazing. And that's honestly impressive, it does take a certain type of precision to bake.

On the other hand, when it came to actual cooking...like salty meals...well!

He tried. He really tried. He just didn't have the same gift at handling salt as he had with sugar. Like than one time he wanted to surprise you and tried key word tried to cook seafood pasta...

"Hi Lixie" you called out as soon as you arrived home.

"Hi angel, I'm in here!" he replied, and when you understood that his voice was coming from the kitchen, as well a certain smell, you just had to take a deep breath before walking in.

"Oh wow! Did you make something nice?" the sweetness in your tone along with a kiss on his cheek covered a bit of the fear.

He smiled widely, making a funny excited noise as he kept stirring the spaghetti and sauce in the pan. To be fair the smell was not bad per se, it was just a bit strong since it was seafood. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad?

"So how is it? I actually added a bit of spices because I didn't think the color of the sauce was quite right." he talked casually, as you sucked in the inside of your cheeks to try and desperately activate some salivation as well as sedate the sting caused from the pepper.

"Mmh", you took a generous sip of water nodding, more to try and not disappoint him too much than to agree.

"It's certainly...savory" you smiled, clearing your throat, "Maybe a bit too spicy for me you know? I'm a bit weak ahah"

His face drops a bit, in confusion at first, since he knows that's a lie and you handle spice well. Or better than him, regardless.

So he reaches for his fork, rolling some of the spaghetti on it, then putting it into his mouth.

As soon as he chomps down, his jaw freezes. His brown eyes glaring at you like you cooked the damn pasta.

"How is-"

"Shut up" he interrupts while spitting the bite out in a piece of paper.

But thankfully he barely, if ever, got baking wrong. It had become almost a 'saving grace' for Felix. He had to bring a housewarming or dinner gift? Cake or sweet bread. He wanted to make a snack for you or the members? Brownies or cookies. He needed to ask forgiveness? Pick either of the previous options.

On the other hand, if that was his strong point, it definitely wasn't yours. The most you could do was have pre-packed and measured ingredients, maybe then you could avoid fucking it up.

Lord knows you became as much as a liability as he did when you tried to use the oven.

As soon as the boys finally got a break, Felix walked back to his bag, fishing out his phone, actually meaning to write to you.

But you wrote first! And what he saw made him a little worried but mainly smile, endeared. It's just his nature to always be positive after all.

hi bub <3 how's practice going?

I saw this recipe on tiktok and I kinda tried to make it with what we had at home lol

It's still in the oven tho so I think they'll be ready just in time when you get home

say hi from me, laters <3

Felix smiled and responded with a selfie of himself pouting, saying he can't wait to be home and wash up. And was also looking forward to this treat!

Famous last words...

"Okay I need you to be a bit open minded right now"

"Right" he nodded, still in his practice clothes. He had just stepped foot into the apartment and already smelled something burning.

"They- uh- listen they're a bit ugly, a bit melted let's say...but it doesn't mean they'll taste bad!" he was genuinely trying not to laugh with all his might, seeing you so flustered.

"Let's see the creatures, then"

"Oh my God don't call them that" you yelled, effectively making him lose his shit and start laughing. He raised his hands in defeat.

"I'm just saying! I don't even know what you made, you keep calling them 'them'!" he explained. You waved him off with one hand.

"Yeah yeah, okay", you bent down a bit to open the oven, which actually didn't exactly smell bad, it just smelled a bit intense. You probably overcooked whatever it was, he thought.

Nothing could've prepared him for the absolute failed laboratory experiments that you put on the table. He truly couldn't even tell what they were supposed to be. Mini cakes? Muffins?

The only indication was the paper wrappers that, fortunately, contained the -most certainly- radioactive results.

He bit his bottom lip, slowly walking closer to inspect the situation.

"So...what were they supposed to be, angel?"

"Uh...blueberry muffins?" you responded sheepishly. He nodded slowly, closing his eyes to try and contain himself.

"I see." he courageously reached to take a tiny piece of dugh -the one that didn't explode, that is- and tasted it.

He chewed, genuinely trying to savor it and see if it was any good. He sighed.

"I think that something was wrong in the main dough, angel. That's why it kinda exploded and didn't rise properly." he explained sweetly, pulling you closer by the waist.

"How about we set aside these green hulk babies and tomorrow, since I've got the day off, we don't try again together?" he smiled when he say you smile behind the hand covering your face.

"Okay" your voice sounded small, like a scolded kid. He chuckled, kissing your forehead at your cuteness.

"Okay."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[fractualized]

Alright. Let's break down this "oh" of an ending. NEGATIVE NANCY, COMING THROUGH

Spoilers, ho!

Ending a story is hard, if they're long or short. Whether you wrap up key threads or leave them open, you want some kind of takeaway that puts a period on things. Even in comics, where we know these characters will go on and on, ideally a story will end in a way that just... fits. Even amateur fic writers have loads of WIPs just sitting there because exactly how to end this damn thing eludes them.

I don't know if Rosenberg had an ending in mind when he started The Man Who Stopped Laughing. I don't know if he decided he'd figure it out by the end of it's year-long run. I don't know if DC Editorial lets people do that; it sounds insane, but if you've been paying attention to their current level of editorial "oversight," which I imagine is supposed to make concurrent titles mesh together reasonably well, I wouldn't be shocked if they let people wing it. Or, more likely, perhaps DC Editorial swooped in and made Rosenberg change the ending he had planned and that's why the result falls flat.

In any case, after 11 issues of enjoying myself, I'm left feeling deflated.

But let's start where #12 does, with the Joker who's been told he's John Keyser, a toxin'd henchmen that the real Joker made into a doppelganger for funsies. He approaches a hotdog vendor.

I'm stuck on "Hello. I've been looking for you"?? I didn't catch that on my first read. Joker has a favorite hotdog vendor? lol

Shut up, Waffles!! All we have is your word for it!!

In any case, hey, Keyser Joker has already been Jokering this long, so yeah, why not keep going? And why not with help from poor woobie Jason, fresh from nearly getting himself killed in Gotham War?

Bruce did not fix Jason at the end of Gotham War, so his adrenaline is still triggering fear in his brain. But Keyser Joker has a solution for that!

It's a tiny dose of Joker toxin to take the edge off of Bruce's programming. Joker makes a point of saying that the effects are only temporary, though. (And like, I assume this is just the quick-fix solution Rosenberg came up with to pull off his own ending when told Bruce's plans for Jason over in the other titles.) Jason is skeptical of this "help," naturally, but Keyser Joker brings up their matching interest: getting rid of the other Joker.

Jason, why you gotta ruin Albert's good time? 🙄

Cut to Red Hood dragging a clown henchman through the streets of Gotham.

But "his" face being blacked out and some of the dialogue clue the reader in: things aren't what they seem.

DERAIL TIME: what is up with this batmobile?

Like from some other angles, it looks sportier, but in most of the panels it looks like an old Buick? lol ANYWAY.

With the flaily way this person jumps off the bike and runs, I was sure that this was Keyser Joker and we might see Batman interact with him. Alas.

It's Ravager, who survived last issue's explosion. She's helping Jason 1) distract Batman and 2) get Albert out of harm's way, far from Keyser Joker's plan.

Naturally Keyser Joker is planning something more destructive than he's led Jason to believe. Also like…

The idea that Keyser Joker really is this John guy, not the real deal, is still not sitting fucking right with me. Seeing him here in another costume, with a goofy death train with mismatched eyes just like his, it feels like a signal that he actually is Joker and Waffles is either lying or mistaken somehow. Like compared to the other Joker, who we haven't seen in a costume? Who left Gotham for weird reasons? I really thought there was going to be a reverse reveal.

And since it doesn't come, I guess it's a good time to mention that! There is no reverse reveal of who the real Joker is. Things get a little muddy later, but…. hrm. HRM.

That said, the other Joker does something pretty dang Jokery: he shows up in a dirigible with his face on it.

Killer Moth and a bunch of clown goons (that aren't supposed to be available because of Gotham War but WHATEVER) attach the dirigible to the train and it's pretty chaotic!

I love when villains are like, "Look I may kill people, but an endangered gorilla?! Get outta here!" 😂

Jason also arrives in style.

I guess he was observing Ravager's distraction?? Which feels like it defeats part of the purpose of having her do the distraction. But then he couldn't have this cool entrance in which he bludgeons people with a motorcycle. Trade offs!

Meanwhile, Real Joker makes it to the front of the train to confront Keyser Joker. One of Real's goons offers to shoot Keyser, but Real Joker wants to make this personal and kills the poor hench so he can do it himself.

Jason coming in like YEEEEEAAAAHHHHH 😎

Then he gets the bad news.

Keyser is as casually suicidal as your average Joker! Also "Real" Joker never acknowledges Red Hood's identity, afaik. It's always Keyser Joker. Details like this got me thinking that reverse reveal was coming, AND YET.

That aside, next comes a fun comedy beat.

Real Joker going right for the hair!

Jason isn't going to let this be the end of it, of course, and once again Killer Moth must suffer at his hands.

Jason shoots so many clowns. Just never the one he wants. 😞

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaait wait wait. You're telling me that Bruce knew about the imminent TWO JOKERS situation. But he decided to prioritize a report of Red Hood dragging a clown through the streets. When in the same breath he's saying there are other people coming to the scene with him, so he obviously could've sent someone else? On the same day Batman #139 is like "oooh Bruce is totally onto Joker now"? This is what you're telling me?? Augh.

Well, we can't rely on Batman right now, clearly, so it's up to Jason.

Meanwhile, Keyser Joker has told the other one that he actually does have a secret way off the runaway train safely. After they fight some more, the tune starts to change.

Alright so, this "deal," which would sort of start them back at square one, doesn't bother me because obviously it's on shaky-ass ground and one of them is definitely killing the other before this issue is over. What does bug me is the "franchising" line, for two reasons:

1) Is this supposed to imply that Real Joker is the one who was behind Joker Incorporated in the Batman Incorporated issues, not a third one?

2) I was just SO SURE it was another indication we were getting a reverse reveal. Joker absolutely does not love the franchising idea. That's kind of been the point of this whole series. The genuine Joker in Keyser Joker's hallucination/memory said that having two Jokers around is stupid. HRRRRMMM.

Anyhow, they leave the train together, though the escape plan is literally just jumping off, which has more issues than they bargained for.

So do you think, assuming the Gotham War writers actually communicated at least a little, that Zdarsky asked Rosenberg what he needed Jason for at the end of TMWSL, and Rosenberg was like, "oh I need him to heroically crash a toxic blimp and almost die?" And then Zdarsky was like, "er, I need him to heroically fly a plane into a magic meteor and almost die?" And then they just shrugged and closed the Zoom?

But yeah, the blimp crashes, and I'm sort of confused because I thought that earlier Bruce was saying that even if the toxin gets into the water, it'll still make it's way to the city. So for one thing, it's still exploding in the air and it's still gonna drift. And the parts that dissolve in water are still gonna drift. There's a part to the equation missing here.

But these two are just thrilled at the excitement.

Until the sudden yet inevitable betrayal.

BUT WHO WAS JOKE

Shortly after this, Ravager shows up with Manhunter, who also survived last issue's explosion. (It just doesn't come up at all. Like it doesn't have to, I guess, but it's just weird that there's not a word or wound about it.) Ravager dives into the water looking for Jason, because she instinctually knows he did something grand and dumb. She finds him among the clown bodies and brings him to shore.

Nothing can kill this man! He came back from the dead with nine lives! And also maybe that Lazarus resin from TFZ is still helping, I dunno.

Elsewhere along the shore, what's left of both Jokers' crews find themselves waiting in the same spot for the Joker they expect to be triumphant.

You know what. I'm soured on Waffles now. Leave him.

And then, from the water…

And that's it. That's how it ends. With a sort of snide cop-out?

Like, it's Joker's POV, so yeah, you could say the dickish tone is just him. But following this story for a year, and then seeing it end with simply the old "you'll never know which Joker prevailed," it doesn't feel clever or whatever this is going for. It just feels obnoxious.

Honestly, it feels like the same takeaway as freaking Three Jokers. 😐 That it doesn't matter who Joker is. All the lead-up to this, where maybe we get a tiny bit of depth and development, even if just in this story, eh. Doesn't matter! We're ending this with blah payoff.

On the other hand, the part of about about there being more questions, about this ending not being tidy, makes me think that this is leaving open the possibility that Keyser Joker actually was the real one. After all, we don't get a flashback to the actual events. The events we see are part of a hallucination, and Keyser never said he had clear memories of being the real or the fake one. He just went from assuming he was the real one to taking Waffles' word for it that he was the henchman.

Also, Keyser Joker was always the Joker giving narration. And the narration boxes for the Final Joker at the end remain in his style. So it seems like we actually have a huge indication of which Joker prevailed-- unless we're meant to assume that if the other Joker prevailed, he merely took over the narration.

I mean, this is what we have. So if I can just choose what I want to believe, I'm going to believe both that Keyser was actually the real guy and that he won. But it puts a real sour taste in my mouth to be super engaged with a story and wanting an ending that says something about Joker's character… and the ending is just that one murders the other and you don't know who, neener neener. It's anticlimactic. It's a predictable direction that I thought SURELY Rosenberg wouldn't go in. It feels like a dick move.

And... what else is there to say? So ends my year of consistently buying a comic, I guess. Nothing else has really grabbed me like TMWSL did, though City of Madness looks promising. After the multiverse and Gotham War stuff, I'm not about to start picking up Zdarsky's Batman. #139 had plenty I should enjoy, but it's soured by Zdarsky deciding to bring a canonical take to the three Jokers concept for some ungodly reason.

A new three Jokers take feels extra stupid after a year of a story about two Jokers. And the second Joker in TMWSL isn't even taken into account in Zdarsky's story. Based off that #135 scene, it really looks like he's going to say that Darwin Halliday accidentally copied TKJ Joker somehow. lmao Why. Why do we have to do this. Why can't this just be one of the things that gets retconned away. I just want my murderclown to be fun.

I need to get back to my list of unread older comics. Or read One Operation Joker! I didn't think I was interested, but I think a random goofy premise is actually just what I need.

[writing-whump]

Hector fic with Isaiah caretaker

Missing their brotherly love

Awww. This came at the perfect moment, nonny! Very very sick Hector from the seawater plus Isaiah. I struggled with this continuation for two days, then scrapped it and wrote it from the beginning and now I think it finally works, lol

Seawater part 2

"Isaiah. Isaiah, wake up."

Isaiah groaned, opening one eye at Matthew shaking his shoulder lightly. "Hmmm?"

"Stop playing a vampire. Up with you."

"Is something wrong?" Cowebs of sleep were slowing down his thoughts. Between training and afternoon, he slept like a dead, that was true. It helped him function for the rest of the time like he was fine.

Then again, Matthew wouldn't disturb him if it wasn't something serious.

"Go check on your brothers. Hector's sick as heck."

Yep, that was like a bucket of cold water, washing the cobwebs away. Isaiah sat up, kneading at his forehead. "What do you mean sick? What happened?"

Matthew shrugged, crossing his arms on his chest. "Threw up all over the hall, that's what happened. All seawater too. Think he drowned himself in a hissy fit or something."

"Seawater..."

"Yeah. I cleaned it up, just so you know."

Isaiah got up from the bed to change his lose shirt into a more formal short-sleeved button up and pants. "Did he ask for me?" he said hopefully.

"Nope." Matthew grinned. "Asked me not to get you, actually." He sounded terribly happy with himself for doing the exact opposite.

Isaiah shook his head. "Alright. Thank you." In that moment Isaiah was incredibly grateful Matthew was his second and would always be in his corner. Nobody else's.

...

Hector was pretty sure this was what rock bottom felt like.

He was heaving over the toilet for the umpteenth time, thick gushes of seawater shooting out of him like someone opened a damn faucet. Although that must have been the 8th time he was puking, his stomach still felt all bubbly and distended, firm to the touch.

He felt so incredibly full. The stupid water didn't seem to want to stop—he couldn't remember drinking as much of that damn thing as was coming back.

His mouth tasted bitter and salty, and he wasn't sure if his voice was shot from the salt or the repeated vomiting of it. Even worse was the constant thirst. He felt so thirsty his eyes and tongue burned, but he also couldn't phantom putting anything in his stomach.

It was as swollen ball of swirling cramps and misery. It hurt to touch, to not touch, to lean against anything.

Oh and the killer headache he was developing, that was fun too. Hector rarely got headaches, they were always somehow relegated to his youngest brother. Must have been from the dehydrayation.

He would have loved to drink so much, but the mere idea had him retching violently over the toilet again to the point he was seeing starts.

"Okay, just get it up, it's okay," Arnie said in a frantic voice that told him it was everything but okay. The younger blonde crouched beside Hector, one hand braced on his heaving brother's back, the other scrolling through Google articles about seawater poisoning.

Google to the rescue for real.

Hector spat a tangly bit of saliva into the toilet. It was just cloudy whirling seawater. He flushed the toilet and slumped back against the wall. A woozy feeling was joining the chorus of pains, the cold titles of the tiny apartment's bathroom digging into his knees.

His vision was swimming in and out of focus. Was he still at sea? His stomach was somersaulting like on a damn boat.

"This is good Hex. Your body will get rid of the salt and then you will make up for it with proper water and you'll be okay," Arnie said, hand patting Hector's cheek. "Just don't go passing out on me, deal?"

Hector forced his eyes open and snorted, the sound reverberating in his chest like a bullet. "Not passing out. 's fine, pipsquak. I'm fine."

His stomach muscles convulsed again and he struggled to keep the grimace off his face.

Arnie winced, attuned to his breathing. His hand landed on Hector's elbow as he helped him lean over the toilet again. Just in time for Hector's stomach to wring itself out of his throat, the splash echoing over the room.

Hector heaved several more times on empty, feeling the water swirl in his stomach, fighting for freedom. Or maybe just inflamming everything it touched for good measure. "Damn thing...w-won't stop..."

Arnie lifted himself on his knees to rub Hector's back, a steady presence. His worry warmed Hector up, gave him something to focus on. It helped with the panicky feeling rising in his chest as goosebumps rose on his arms.

The nausea was always there, horrible, higher than he ever felt before. He constantly felt like he could throw up, jaw tingling with it.

His stomach cramped fiercely, and Hector doubled over with a groan, falling into Arnie. The younger boy squealed, almost toppling under Hector's weight. "You can't even hold your head up anymore...we need to get you into bed-"

"God, my stomach...." Hector was way beyond caring what he was saying. The way his belly seized drowned out anything else. He curled up on the floor around his middle, moaning as his overfull insides tried to tear themselves in two.

"I got him," came a sudden voice. Another pair of hands was on Hector's back, massaging into the center of the tightly locked muscles. His body convulsed on the floor, his head almost bumping into the toilet tank, wasn't it for someone's palm on his forehead suddenly softening the impact.

"-Arnie, we need something to rehydrate him quickly-"

"-won't keep anything down! He retches every two fucking minutes, I don't know-"

The voices mixed, rose and fell with emotion but Hector couldn't tell them apart. It felt like his head was underwater, everything muffled by bubbles, and blood was rushing in his ears.

He recognized words like "pharmacy," "taxi," and "take Matthew." On some level, he could still perceive Arnie's voice jumping in worry and another calmer voice with an almost commanding presence saying something back.

The floor shifted under him and then fell away with a terrible sinking feeling. Hector struggled against the weird sensation, someone's arm around his back, hoisting him up. It was too quick, too unexpected. His belly cramped and sent out a new fountain of seawater. He felt like a water ballon toy squished in the middle.

"Hang on, buddy, hang on. It will be over in a second."

The temperatures changed as did the light, but his vision was still out. He could only see from behind his eyelids, eyes squeezed shut against the wave of vertigo and nausea clawing his mouth open at every turn.

He felt something soft underneath as he was lowered onto the bed, almost melting at the contact. That felt so much better than the hard floor. Before he could find his bearings, a gross feeling drove his teeth apart as yet another watery puke sprayed out.

Hands on his back again. Lifting him up on his side just enough so he could puke into something with a plastic bottom, the water splashing loudly against it. "There you go. It's okay, just breathe. Breathe, Hex."

It was a good tip since his throat burned with the rest of the salty contents. Hector took a breath, feeling like drowning all over again. He had to cough to clear his throat, but once he was breathing, he went completely limp against the pillow, exhausted.

It felt like he was asleep for entire two minutes, when he woke up again. He blinked his eyes open against, the offending afternoon sunlight. His mouth still felt terrible, his throat ached from thrist...the nausea was still there, high and horrible, but he could sleep through it, he would love to sleep through it...

A piercing cramp, like a knife to the stomach made him distinctly aware why he woke up. He shifted, trapped underneath the blankets, to curl up on his side, a whole-bodied shiver of revulsion shaking him from head to toe.

"You awake? Hey, bud." A hand on his arm, stroking small circles. He recognized the voice with a wince.

"Zaya...?"

"Yeah, right here. Welcome back to the land of the living." There was a smile in his tone, but with an edge of artificial lightness.

Hector forced himself to roll on his back to see and indeed, Isaiah was there, sitting against the wall on top of the blankets. All in black to keep in style, his hand still on Hector's shoulder, going with his movement.

Hector squinted his eyes, his head was hammering away with every breath he took.

Something about the sight of his oldest brother with that calm expression, only a gentle frown and the focused calmness of his eyes had Hector's insides twisting.

This was Isaiah's crisis face, the one when he was being attacked. When something was hurting. As if Hector's state could do that to him.

His breath hitched and he retched right there in bed. Isaiah grabbed the bowl near his leg with lightning speed, lifting Hector up into a sitting position.

Hector struggled over the bowl, stomach muscles spasming and burning with the exertion, but only a dribble of foamy bile came up.

"There, there. I know this sucks, but you are going to be okay," Isaiah said, patting his back gently while he put the bowl away again.

Hector wanted to laugh at the tone, the expression, the fussing. The exhaustion and nausea morphed into an intense, unexplainable stabbing in his gut. It came from deeper than his stomach, like it was stringing a cord all the way from his core. It caused an entirely different reaction than he expected.

He burst into tears.

Folding over himself, he was sobbing over his lap. He was just so tired of it all. He wasn't sure why he was sobbing, the pressure in his temples increasing all the more. His pulse quicked, his body protesting and struggling to give the last drops of liquid left to the few tiny tears that burned his eyes.

"Oh god, Hex, are you crying?" Isaiah pulled him into his lap, arms encircling him immediately. "You feel really rough, huh?"

"S-sorry, I'm sorry," he hiccuped, whole jest jostling with the force.

"Shhh, it's okay. You can cry all you want, it's fine. It's just me." Isaiah pressed him against his stomach, hand carding through the sweaty mess of his curly hair.

And Hector just gave in to the feeling. Being held like this, falling apart this thoroughly...he was shaking and tired and hurting and Isaiah was right there, where he needed him. He wrapped his hands around Isaiah like he wanted to physically stop him from ever moving again.

When the shaking sobs brought up a couple of burps, Isaiah didn't even flinch, just held him tighter. Hector was basically drooling in his lap, but the other wolf said nothing, cold fingers sliding to his cheek, his neck, shushing him like a child.

"Okay. We are okay. I'm right here. Everything will be alright," Isaiah chanted quietly in his ears, rocking back and forth. And Hector let go, losing himself in the reassurance.

[caffeinetheif]

Greenhouse

Yandere! Daivolo x GN! MC

WC: 2.5k

Warnings: basically everything that involves yanderes, blood, heavily implied (but not described) minor character death, imprisonment of MC, implied forced cuddling/bed sharing, blood, mentions of paranoia and the feeling of being watched, some minor violence from MC towards Diavolo (let’s be honest he kinda deserves it), attempt at a non-consentual kiss

A/N: y’all I’m super sorry for the absense. Work and school has been hectic. The stress of prepping for a study abroad is taking its toll that’s for sure. As always, I hope you enjoy and let me know if I missed any warnings! The title is a little cryptic, but I have my reasons for choosing it :)) Also, this was low key based off of a dream I had a while ago lol

“MC, darling,” a gentle voice rouses you from your peaceful slumber. It takes you a moment to remember where you are and who you are with.

Your mind reacts with panic. You’re still here, stuck in this cursed room with the demon who stole you away. The demon who faked your disappearance so he could keep you just for his own selfish desires.

“What, Diavolo?” you can’t help but let a bit of resentment slip into your voice. If there’s one thing that’s stayed the same after being snatched, it’s your distaste for being woken up.

The demon chuckles, “I apologize for waking you, dear, especially so late. There’s urgent business that I must attend to, but I promise I won’t be gone long!”

You glare at the back of Diavolo’s imposingly tall form as he stands up from your shared bed and dresses himself. If you had it your way, you wouldn’t even be here, much less sharing a bed with the Prince of the Devildom. You tried demanding your own room or bed when he first whisked you into his castle, but he laughed and told you that there was no need to be so stubborn.

Noticing your angry stare, Diavolo turns to you and smiles, “You can go back to sleep, MC. I know how much you hate being woken up.”

Diavolo restates that he’ll be back as soon as he can as he moves to press a kiss to your forehead. In a split second act of rebellion, knock your head into his chin as hard as you could without much of a windup. The demon doesn’t even flinch, but laughs instead.

“Still feisty as always!”

You think you see a flash of annoyance and disappointment in his honey gold eyes, but quickly flop back down in bed and turn your back to him. Maybe if he thinks you’re going back to sleep he will leave you be. You hear him bustle around the room a bit more before hearing his boots move towards the door.

That damn door! It locks from the outside and Diavolo has the only key. No matter how much you destroy the room searching for the key, you have never found where he keeps it hidden. The only idea you have is that it is somehow enchanted and bound to Diavolo in some way. Every time he enters and exits the room, he always locks the door behind him, which ruins your chances of any escape through it. Even the solitary window in the room is magically locked and indestructible to anything you throw or hit it with.

You hear the clicking of the lock becoming undone and the door opening. The door is shut quickly and you assume Diavolo has left. Time passes as you wait for the resounding ‘click’ of the lock sliding back into place. The sound never happens, your heart jumps with excitement at the prospect of Diavolo actually forgetting to relock the door in his hurry to attend to business. You quietly sit up and swing your legs over to stand. You move towards the tall solid wood door and listen for any notion that the prince is returning. You hear nothing for several minutes before you decide to test your luck.

Your shaky hand reaches out for the cold iron door handle and you slowly twist it. The inner mechanisms click and you wince as they echo throughout the empty room. Slowly, and ever so carefully, you push open the door. The hinges faintly groan but put up no fight.

The hallway outside is quiet. There is no sign of life from Diavolo or servants or maids. No footsteps or voices are heard. No demon is there to order you to stop or to get back in the room. There is no light coming from the hanging light fixtures or candle holders on the walls. The only light source is the gentle moonlight beaming in through the windows. The lack of life almost seems too good to be true, but it’s your only chance at escaping this hellhole.

Ever so carefully, you sneak out of the doorway. Twisting the handle, this time from the outside, you push the door shut so the hardware doesn’t alert anyone to the door being shut once more. You almost don’t believe that you’re out of that room. Before you begin the next phase of your escape, you look down the hall both ways. No one can see you leave, but that is an unlikely occurrence. So, you just have to out run them if you encounter anyone.

You start at a careful speed walk down the left hall. The paintings and portraits that hang along the wall seem to follow you with their eyes. A strong sense of foreboding urges you to move faster. A creak echoes from down the hall, and that’s all it takes for you to take off. You run down the ornate halls, ones that you had once admired. Now, they’re nothing but a mocking labyrinth and the paintings that adorn the walls mock you as you run. The tiled floor below does nothing to dampen the sound of your feet as your feet hit the ground.

Making turn after turn, you quickly find yourself lost in a state of panic and desperation. None of these halls look familiar and there is not a single living soul wandering around. No one is there to help you.

Or so you think. You make another turn and run face first into another person with a grunt. The force of the impact knocks you to the ground, but the other stays on their feet. You look up at the figure, the first living being you have encountered since arriving at the castle. He’s taller than you, but not tall by demon standards. He rubs at the spot on his chest where your head hit and he glances down at you in surprise.

“Huh?” he begins speaking, “there’s not supposed to be anyone in this wing of the castle, much less a human.”

Asking this demon, a servant of the castle, for help is a risky gamble, but one that you’re willing to take, “Please, you have to help me! I’m being held captive by Diavolo. Please, I need your help!”

The servant nervously glances around him, looking for any listening ears or prying eyes. He takes a shaky breath before saying, “You… you’re the reason Young Master has been acting strange.”

He sighs and looks like he’s contemplating something, “I shouldn’t. My Lord will have my head if he finds out I am helping you.”

Your gut drops, this is the first living being you have seen since you were brought to this wretched place! Is he really going to just… ignore you?

In a fit of desperation, you reach out and grab his sleeve, “Don’t leave me! I have to get out of here! I need to escape!”

Your outburst startles the demon and he shakes his head, “I didn’t say I was going to leave you. Follow me, and be quiet.”

Your heart leaps and you have to fight the urge to thank him, who knows if there is anyone listening. Turning on a dime, the servant walks through the decorative halls, making a number of right and left turns down other hallways. The two of you approach a ‘T’ shaped corridor and he seems to be attempting to remember something. Several seconds pass before he turns to the left option. 

The length of the hall is uncharacteristically dirty, with dust coating the vases and paintings. The only light present comes from the moon peering through the occasional window. The few paintings that have been long neglected seem to follow you with their gaze and you hurry to keep up with your guide’s long strides. 

Soon, the two of you finally arrive at a large, hardwood door. The demon quickly glances down the hall where you two just came from before flicking through his keyring. Finally, he stops once he finds a small, bronze key that matches the delicate hardware on the door and slides it into the keyhole. The key is twisted and you hear a dull click as the door is unlocked. The door creaks ominously as it is swung open to reveal a dusty, sparsely decorated room. 

The unnamed demon enters the room and motions for you to follow him inside. Once you do, he relocks the door and quickly walks towards a tall painting that hangs on the wall.

The servant glances back at you, “Help me move this painting. There’s an old passageway behind here that leads to the courtyard.”

The sound of his voice brings your attention and you hurry to help him. As you approach the demon, you notice the painting is a portrait of a very young Lord Diavolo and his father sitting together. Something about this painting doesn’t sit right with you, but you choose to ignore it in favor of helping the servant move the large painting. The two of you lift in tandem and he guides the heavy frame to the side, leaving an opening just wide enough for you to fit.

“This is where I Ieave you. The rest of your escape is up to you. I will do my best to cover your tracks.”

As you slip between the wall and the frame, you glance at the demon and whisper a gracious, “Thank you, for everything.”

The demon nods and shifts the painting back over the entrance to the passageway and darkness engulfs you. It seems more like a tunnel than anything, but it is wide and tall, clearly made for much taller and broader demons. The lack of light wouldn’t phase any demon who enters due to their superior vision in the dark, but you? You’re nearly blind and depend on the feeling of the wall at your side to guide you.

As you maneuver down the pathway, you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. You know it’s silly and chalk it up to the paranoia resulting from Diavolo’s constant hovering. Regardless, you pick up your pace, opting to ignore the burning sensation of the stone wall dragging against your hand.

You don’t know how long you walk for. Luckily, the secret tunnel doesn’t seem to have any alternate hallways and consists of a single, winding one that leads to your destination. The chilly air and cold stone walls seem to sap all the heat from your body and you begin to shiver. 

You finally see the moonlight beaming down at what you assume is the end of the tunnel. Glee fills you and you break out into a run as you grow closer to the light. The moonlight drifts down through a metal grate in the ceiling of the tunnel. It looks like it should be big enough for you to squeeze your shoulders through to get out. You stand under the grate and investigate the hardware. You don’t see any bolts or hinges on the grate that might hold it shut to your surprise. 

The only thing that poses an issue is the height of the exit. The tunnel was not constructed with human height in mind, leaving the only exit a great deal above your head. With your arm stretched straight up as far as you could go, you still aren’t able to touch the metal. Even rising to your tiptoes the piece of metal is just too tall for you to touch. 

With your heart pounding, you jump and swipe at the grate. The tips of your fingers brush against it. You jump and hit it again, and again, and again before the grate is dislodged far enough for you to be able to get your hand between the edge of it and the opening. With one more jump and a hard shove at the metal covering, the hole is completely uncovered. You mentally cheer, not wanting to give away your location to anyone who may hear.

It takes a couple more jumps for you to grasp onto the ledge securely, and at this point your arms and legs are exhausted. But you can’t give up, especially when you’re so close to being free! Just the feeling of the fresh air and cool breeze on your fingers is enough to spur you on. You bring your feet up against the stone wall as extra leverage to push yourself up and out of the hole. Adrenaline is one hell of a motivator. 

The breeze caresses your face as you roll onto the grass surrounding the outside of the hole. You want to laugh, cry, yell, whoop and holler at the feeling of finally being outside. How long has it been since you have smelt dirt? You never thought you would miss the stuff, yet here you are.

“Have you finished having fun? I must say, you made it quite far.” 

Your eyes snap open and your head shoots up to find the voice.

You see the one demon you are trying to escape. Diavolo, in all his glory, is crouching down a mere six feet away from the hole you just pulled yourself out of. The smile on his face doesn’t match the disappointment in his eyes.

A metallic stench fills your nose and brings your attention to Diavolo’s hands. Even with the moonlight projecting his silhouette and hiding most of him in darkness, you can still see the deep, ruby blood staining his hands. In the back of your mind, you know who it came from, but you don’t want to believe it. Lately, you find yourself not wanting to believe a lot of things.

Diavolo chuckles when he notices your eyes fixated on his hands, “It’s a shame, he was such a hard worker. To think such a dedicated servant would go behind my back to help you run away from me. Though, I do have several demons eager to replace him.”

No, no no no no! This can’t be happening! You didn’t even know his name, yet you find yourself grieving for the demon you just met.

Diavolo stands and a large, bloody hand wraps around your upper arm. He hauls you up like a sack of potatoes and ignores how you flinch and squirm at the feeling of the still warm blood seeping through your shirt. You can tell he’s furious as he moves to guide you back towards the castle.

“No, please, I just want to go home!” You panic, you can’t go back. If he gets you inside the castle again, you’re never getting out.

“Your home is here, MC. It’s here at my side where I can keep you locked away, where I can keep you safe!”

Anger surges through you and you kick and writhe, doing anything to get out of his grasp, “I’m not some object for you to own! I don’t belong to anyone, and certainly not you!”

Diavolo’s eyes narrow, and the aura he gives off is oppressive. Your brain screams at you to run, to get away, that Diavolo was dangerous. After all, he killed a demon in cold blood just because they brought you to an escape route.

“You were mine the day you arrived in the Devildom.”

[randomyuu]

so hold my hand (consign me not to darkness) [1/4]

Ah, yes. The fic that made me realise I’m in desperate need of Cursed Spirit Gojou in my ever-growing favourite GoYuu tropes.

Content Warning!

Major Character Death. Other characters are disrespectful to the corpse.

I highly suggest you read the fic first, or just the fic, since I don’t think I was properly able to adapt it into drawings. While I managed to use roughly two weeks of on-and-off planning, researching, and storyboarding, I only had a full week to finish it. You can read more of my thoughts below the comic if you’re curious.

Title: so hold my hand (consign me not to darkness)

Author: qalb_al_louz

It’s ongoing, and as of this drawing, the fic is in its third chapter. While this is (sexually) SFW, always be mindful of the tags! Please keep yourself safe and sound.

Please read from right to left, and enjoy!

You can only upload 30 images in one post, huh Damn, I gotta divide it into parts

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Alrighty, I'll put my watered down unhinged thoughts below. No extra drawings down there if you're curious haha (unless you want to see the storyboard and the characters' full body character sheet, lemme know). You can skip the stuff underneath the Keep Reading for all parts.

This fic had me grinning from ear to ear every time I read this. The atmosphere, how it goes from POV to POV—of pure fear and panic—and the peak excitement I got when Yuuji properly meets Gojou, like brooooo 😭

Gosh I cannot emphasise how much I love this fic. I’ve always been wanting to make a whole comic out of it, especially since it was 2 chapters and it doesn’t look like the author will update it, but it just… kind of forgotten ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

But then the author posted a new chapter and I told myself this is a sign I should really start.

also goddamn I was so naive to think I can tackle 2 chapters as comic—no I was in fact cannot

The moment I laid my eyes on the first paragraph, things were portrayed very vividly in my mind. The panel, the angle, Gojou's head rolling down... I was like, hell yeah. Then I continued reading and I finally succumbed to my desire to draw this out.

At first I want to adapt this into a vertical format like those manhwas. However the longer I try to learn and storyboard it... I am simply not yet comfortable with it, especially for such a big project. Even the 1st storyboard starts vaguely vertical before the panels quickly crammed into that B4-B5 format lol. The first sketch estimated 69 (heh) pages for 90% of chapter 1. I said "no" for my own sanity and fully focused on the usual manga format and it was narrowed down to 60. Still a lot though, quantity and time-wise. So with a heavy heart, I can only do the majority of chapter 1 :”) I really really want to draw Sukuna talks back to Gojou—do you have any idea how good that scene was??? Gojou tried so hard to restrain himself, he’s so other I love him 😭

Due to the sheer length of this comic (I'm still in disbelief), I have limit lots of things, and that includes the drawing. If you've seen my other JJK fanarts, they are more rendered than this one. Well, this one is purely sketched with the help of the eraser to tidy up some lines. This is also the first fanart that I did purely on Photoshop, so I can control the typesets and drawings in one place. Usually, I use Photoshop for panels and typesetting and Krita for drawing.

I don't really like Photoshop's brush, but it did really well in curbing my perfectionist tendencies, so that's good.

It's also been quite a while since I draw in general (sobs) so... yeah, you might find differences, or not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

I know setting is important, but maaan I genuinely won't miss rereading chapter 83-93 with a heavy focus on background and character locations. I just want to read the action and dialogue😭 However continuity is really important. But my spatial intelligence is almost non-existent even GPS sometimes can't help me. All I'm saying is that if you find some silly drawing mistakes, do forgive me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿I only drew all this in a week because otherwise I won't have another chance to complete this.

Well, lots of things I won't miss from this project, but haha let's talk about the characters instead because holy shit what was I thinking, starting this year drawing this many characters in the same project??? I have never drawn anyone here except for Yuuji, Gojou, Nanami and Megumi. I don't think I've ever drawn older Getou before. I already forgot how to draw my boy Yuuji and I gotta draw all these people???

This is what you call making a bad decision, kids. Don't do your "drawing warmup" after months of not drawing and tackling a project of a scale way bigger than you've ever tackled before.

Thank you for reading this far! I hope you find my complaint entertaining! But make no mistake, I genuinely still love the fic. Drawing this, even with all the headaches it gave me, only makes me adore this fic even more.

Thank you very much to each one of you who follows and leaves comments and tags on my silly art—it never failed to make my day :D And I sincerely wish this one also made your day or even made your minute! I'll see you in the next part!

[onthewaytosomewhere]

okay since i've been hit or miss on this lately setting his up to post now since i posted fic and it's the obvious choice for sentences lol

so i posted a sequel of sorts to that Alex beats off to thoughts of Shaan at Kensington post-cakegate fic

it was called henry had sex dreams about shaan and drunkenly hit on him and alex just needs to know all about it on the word doc but it's actually titled in my dreams, at oxford, still with those damn pajama pants and it's just smutty smutty smut and has a tumblr post and everything lolz

okay so sunday i got some tags from wonderful people and i was a slacker who had her nose buried in a fic doc so i didn't post anything except for that fic at like the end of the day lolz

so @suseagull04 @firstprincehornyramblings @sophie1973 @run-for-chamo-miles @taste-thewaste

@tailsbeth-writes @porcelainmortal @thighzp thanks so much for the sunday tags i'm now gonna flip them back to you for wed tags cuz that's how i roll

and a big old open tag for anyone else who want to play along and some no-pressure call-outs under the cut along with the smutty words for this week (ur not surprised they're smut lolz)

also - fuck i was ramble-y TL:DR i posted a fic sequel to that one other fic and am flipping some tags from sunday back to them

“Tell me, how much being around him made you think about getting your mouth on his cock for real? Did Oxford Henry want his equerry to fuck his mouth? What other parts did your slutty ass want him to put that cock into?” Alex nips his way across his hip and down to the juncture of his thigh and groin, and Henry bucks up into the contact. “Fuck, Alex, I wanted him to fuck my mouth so bad. It made my dreams filled with nothing but that. For a while, I would dream about it every night, and …” Henry gasps when Alex licks up his cock. Alex’s mouth around the tip of Henry’s cock, tonguing at his slit and foreskin, makes Henry moan—he pulls off and asks, “When did those dreams of Shaan fucking you start? When did your horny lil brain move past getting your mouth around him to getting your ass around that cock?” “Oh, fuck,” Henry whispers with a moan. “I—it was not long, all it took was one night where the person I thought I was hooking up balked at the whole NDA thing, and Shaan had to put me, sloshed off my arse, to bed once again. Let’s just say those threadbare pajama pants you saw him in—well, he’s always seemed to wear them until they fall apart. If I could have made my drunk mind function enough to form the words, I’m sure I would have hit on him that night.”

tag ur it! @adreamareads @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites @catdadacd

@caterpills @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03

@emmalostinwonderland @england-would-fall @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @firstsprinces

@forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inell

@inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jellibuns @jmagnabo92 @judasofsuburbia

@kiwiana-writes @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @mikibwrites @myheartalivewrites

@ninzied @nocoastposts @orchidscript @piratefals @priincebutt

@softboynick @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @thedramasummer @cactusdragon517

@theprinceandagcd @thesleepyskipper @thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex @typicalopposite

@zwiazdziarka @stratocumulusperlucidus @basil-bird @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead

[beautifulfuckup99]

Request is simple

Alpha JK * Chubby Girl 🫠

Babes, you know I got you! Gonna make this a bit of a part 2 to "I Can Handle It", which has reached 390 hearts so far. I'm so glad ya'll enjoyed it! Lol

Title: A Little Reminder...

Warning(s): SMUT! (Obviously), Body image issues, pregnancy S!X, And, yes, fluff too! Lol

Author's Note: This is for my beautiful Big/Curvy Girls. Love ya'll!

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Jungkook's POV:

My phone rang out as I waited for the light to turn green. I looked down at my phone expecting to see my wife calling, but it wasn't her number. I picked up the call and put the phone on speaker so I could talk without getting a ticket for it.

"Hello?" I asked and quickly heard a sigh of relief come from the other side.

"Finally. What the hell are you doing out there?" Namjoon's deep voice came out in an angry tone, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the conversation I know he'll be having with me soon. Even on hiatuses, he was still my Hyung...

"Joon please, I have enough people mad at me for tonight." I muttered softly, hoping for some mercy after the week I've been dragged through.

"Well, someone's gotta figure out where your damn head is at. Y/N says you're cheating on her?" He asks and I want to yell out. 'I'M NOT CHEATING!', but I hold in the frustration. Married. Married, living together, and expecting our first child, and Y/N's insecurities had found a way right back to us.

"She called me crying after you walked out tonight? Didn't I teach you to never leave just leave a fight unresolved?" He lectures and I hit my forehead on the steering wheel before looking back at the road as I drive around the city streets of Soeul. "She said you never touch her and that-" I finally cut Namjoon off from his worried rant.

"I know what she said! I hear it all the damn time. That's why I left. I'm sick and tired of her always accusing me of looking at different women when we're out together or saying that she's not attractive anymore. She's having my child, Joon! We're married for crying out loud! What more should I do to prove I'm not going anywhere?" I asked in pure exhaustion. I'd even taken this break for her, and it seems like nothing was working. This was honestly worse than when we were dating. I hear my Hyung sigh before he begins speaking again.

"You need to understand that she's very sensitive right now, Jungkook. Any and every little thing will find a way to set her off. Especially since you guys haven't been doing much-" I cut him off again.

"That's none of your business." I say fast and then pause. "I-I'm sorry, Joon..." I sigh, just angry that Y/N would even tell him all of this. He hums.

"Jungkook. Y/N said that she believes the reason you won't touch her is because you think she's getting fat." He says, and I huff in annoyance as I stop at another red light.

"Joon..." I whispered while shaking my head. "I still, and will always, look at Y/N like I did the night we met. I've told her how much I love her body!" I try and defend. Namjoon hums again.

"But her body has changed, Jungkook." He points out. "Have you given her a reminder?" He asks and I nod my head before realizing that he can't see me.

"Not a day has gone by where I didn't tell her that..." I stated before remembering the last few weeks. "I... Well, I mean... Work has been busy lately... And... Shit!" I groaned as I hit my head on the steering wheel again before quickly focusing back on the road.

"'Shit' is right." Namjoon sighs. "You know what you've gotta do now right?" He asks and I stay silent, secretly needing this advice. Even as a grown man with a kid on the way, I knew I'll always need the insight of my Hyung.

"You gotta go home and remind your wife why you wanted a ring on that finger." He stats and I chuckle softly before sighing and pulling over on some random street.

"You're right. I gotta go. Thanks, Hyung." I mumbled and heard Namjoon say a small 'goodnight' and also 'good luck' before hanging up.

I had to make this up to my wife, and fast.

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I get home just as the clock shows 2:30am, but I'm not tired at all. I close the door behind me and hear the stairs creak a bit as someone comes downstairs. Turning around, I see my beautiful wife standing at the bottom of the staircase, hands crossed over her chest as she bit the corner of her bottom lip as if waiting for the right words to come to mind... So was I.

I had everything I was gonna say ready in the back of my mind, yet now, seeing her there with her hair a mess, her cute little nose red, and her gorgeous eyes puffy, all from crying... I just felt shame for even putting her through this.

"Baby..." I begin as I started walking over to her, flowers in hand, her favorite. "I am so sorry for everything-" She cuts me off with a shake of her head.

"No... I-It's my fault." She states. "I should've known that you would never cheat on me and I'm sorry I accused you. I-It's just everyone talking about you having 'so much chemistry' with that actress in your new music video... I-I guess I just kinda... Kinda lost it." She whispers with her head going down in shame.

I open my mouth to speak again but my voice gets caught in my throat. What good are words at a point like this? I walk over to my wife and grab her chin, tilting her head up to look at me. "I want you Y/N..." I whisper as I look her in the eyes. She pauses and I grab her by the waist, pulling her against me, her curves working as amazing place holders for my arms.

"You don't have to-" I cut her off by picking her up bridal style so I could take her up the stairs to our bedroom.

"I thought I told you back when we were dating. I can handle you just fine. I think you need a little reminder." I whisper in her ear.

As soon as we get through the doorway of the bedroom, I pinned her up against the first wall I could. I didn't mean to be rough with her, but it's been so long since we've even made out... Lust clouded my mind when she moaned into the kiss because of the sting my hand had just left on her plump ass. I kissed her, my tongue shooting into her mouth so I could taste her for the first-time in... I don't know how long.

I pushed her up against the wall harder as my hands reached down to her legs so she could get the hint to jump up and wrap them around me. My hands went to the hem of my shirt she'd been wearing, basically ripping it off of her. I moved away to get a better look at her and moaned. She was wearing red lace. "You were prepared." I pant and she blushes. "I don't know what you're talking about..." She taunts quietly. I put her down to get a better view of her and her body.

Her gorgeous body...

With a spin of my index finger, I motioned for her to turn for me. She slowly and hesitantly did. She turned her back towards me and I slowly grabbed her hips and squeezed. Fuck, I love this view the most...

"I'd be insane to get tired of a body like this." I whisper in her ear, causing her to turn to look at me from over her shoulder. Her bright eyes made my heart flutter like always.

"You mean that?" She whispers softly, as if challenging my sweet words. Our relationship was always a tug of war, and I loved it. She always kept me on my toes, kept me sharp. I smile before cupping her face, the pad of my thumb stroking her cheek.

"With every fiber in my being." I whisper back before leaning in to kiss her, this time more slowly. Our lips move like butter on a hot pan, the motion is slow and consistent, her tongue licking at my lower lip makes me shiver. I pull away from her lips though as my hands pull her closer to my body.

"How did I get so lucky?" I ask as I eye her, and Y/N blushes slightly, thrusting her butt against me to bump me away a bit before turning fully towards me.

"You make it sound like I'm some goddess..." She tries to taunt but I notice how little sarcasm is in her voice, like now she truly believes that she isn't. It makes an anger spark inside me that is quickly replaced with a need to make her believe me.

"Y/N..." I whisper as I make her look at me. "You are a goddess." I state.

"No, I'm not..." She begins, but I lean in and kiss her again. She puts her hands on my shoulders to probably push me back, but I know what she likes. My lips wrap around her bottom lip to suck on softly, my arms wrapping around her waist to hold her as close as her stomach would let me.

As we make out, my hands move to grip her ass, loving the feel of it in my hands. I loved the feel of her cellulite, the stretch marks, how soft it felt when I squeezed. Like dough. I especially loved the noise it made when I...

Smack!

Y/n gasps against my mouth as I rub the ass cheek I'd just smacked. "Get on the bed. I fucking missed this body." I whisper, tonguing my lip ring as I eye her bashful state. She was always so cute...

"Jungkook-" I cut her off.

"Don't 'Jungkook' me. This is what you wanted, right? Why you've been so fussy? It's cause I haven't been giving it to you lately. I'm gonna make up for that right now." I say as I grab her chin firmly, loving how she breathes unevenly at the promise. "Now get on the fucking bed." I order, not in a mood to repeat myself. Not when all I wanted was her withering under me...

Y/N is quick to get on the bed and I drop my jacket finally before walking over while undoing my belt. I yank it off and use it on her wrists, not needing her hands wondering. "Let me take care of this body." I smirk as my hands roam her half naked body now.

I grope her breasts as she gently moans and it's music to my ears. I kiss the tops of her breasts as I squeeze them. Her back aches so I can reach behind her and take her bra off. I slip her bra off of her perfect body and take time to really look at her again. Her hair's a mess, her cheeks are flushed, and she's never looked better. 

"I am so fucking lucky." I begin. "I get to wake up next to you every morning," I kiss the middle of her chest. "Come home to you every afternoon," I kiss down her stomach. "And make love to you every night. I'm in heaven..." I whispered softly before I pull her underwear all the way off and throw it over my shoulder, not caring where it lands. I spread her legs and get comfy between them.

I focus on her inner thighs, wanting to mark them up, biting and leaving hickeys on her perfect skin. "P-Please... Kookie, please!" Y/N begs in need, and it makes me smirk. Being pregnant made her more sensitive. She was practically leaking on the bed already. My breath brushes over her soaked pussy as I tease her more.

"You want it? Hm?" I taunt quietly as she shivers. I smirk and move to face her. "You know what I wanna hear." I say.

"I-I'm a pretty girl..." She whimpers softly. "Please. Please give it to me..." She whines softly. I hum and cup her pussy in one hand, rubbing my palm against her clit. It makes her moan louder and makes me smirk.

"Fuck, you're so wet, I can hear it..." I say happily as I slide two fingers into her at once cause I know she can take it. And she does. She always takes my fingers so easily. Almost as easy as she takes my cock...

"Oh my god..." She whines as her hips hump against my hand. I move to lay next to her as I focus on finger fucking her, eyes almost rolling every time her walls milked my fingers.

"Look at me. Look at me." I order between pants, and her eyes are half shut as she does, forcing herself to stay focused and not lose it to the pleasure yet. "My pretty girl. You like it?" I whisper against her lips, her hands moving against the belt tied around her wrists.

"Yes! Yes! Please, faster. Please, I love-" I cut her off by adding a third finger and rapidly thrusting them in and out, making her head roll back, and I wasn't letting up. The gushing sound coming from her pussy as I finger fucked her was egging me on too much to let up.

"Baby! Baby!" She gasps in pleasure, hips halting as I get to her sweet spot. I relentlessly hit that spot, over and over again as she says my name and my ego grows. I always thought hearing my name from ARMY was music to my ears, but having my wife chant it as I hold her shaking body with my fingers buried deep inside her? It was just a better use of my name...

"Take me baby... Please. Please, fuck me." She whimpers and I feel completely lightheaded at her pleas. I pull my fingers out, making her groan at the loss.

"Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna give you something much bigger." I assure in her ear, making her squeal. I roll her on to her side with me behind her.

"My hands! Please!" She pants as I kiss and bite along her neck. I groan softly and kiss her ear before releasing her wrists. My hands roam her body before I finally undo my jeans that were acting as a prison for my cock. I moan at the relief of my bulge finally being free from it's trap.

Her hand is on my cock before I can even guide it between her legs myself. I smirk as I watch her eyes stay glued to the mirror by our bed. "You know exactly where to look. Good girl..." I praise as I help push into her.

She sucks in some air fast and I grab her leg to hold over my hip so I can push in deeper. "Fuck..." I groan as I feel my cock instantly become surrounded by her warm and wet walls that squeeze around my length in need. "Treat my cock so good, baby..." I pant.

"Give me..." She whines and it makes me smirk. So needy...

I start fucking her faster and her hand goes to mine that's around her waist. Her nails dig into my arm and the burn of her nails going up my forearm only makes me thrust faster. "Oh... Fuck, baby!" I groaned as I move my hips so I can find her sweet spot.

"Jungkook!" She moans out loudly and I smirk. Found it.

Y/N throws her head back, her hair everywhere and her chest moving rapidly up and down. My head moves to the cork of her neck so naturally. This was so natural. I could never experience this with anyone else. And if I had to fuck her speechless to get it through her head that she was my one and only, then so be it.

"So perfect..." I breathed out against her ear as I watch het through the mirror before slowing down. I wanted her to feel every fucking inch of my cock. I wanted to feel just how tight her walls wrap around my cock with need to keep me in.

"Look at me." I whispered and grab Y/N by her chin before she can move, making her whimper loudly. She locks eyes with me.

"Please. Please, fuck me. I have to cum..." She shivers and I smirk as I move my forehead, so it's pressed to hers. She gasps loudly as I give her hard and slow thrusts.

"You are so perfect." I breathed out and she just whispers my name shakily. I smile at her reaction, eyes rolling shut and mouth dropping open. My firm hand moves to her clit to rub it. The look on her face was one of pure need. Pure beauty...

"I love you. I love your body. I love your mind, baby. Fuck..." I pant. "I fucking love everything about you..." I ramble on as she blushes more, whining how much she loves me.

"Kookie... I... Oh god... H-Harder... I-I love you! Please, baby, harder." Y/N cries out, and I move harder. Her hand moves down to hold mine that's rubbing at her clit faster now. I kiss along her face as she trembles.

"Let go, baby." I breathe out. "Come on, beautiful... Cum for me." I continue and Y/N presses her lips against mine hard, but she barely kisses me, too lost in pleasure. I don't mind though. I swallow all of her moans as she cums hard, her whole body shaking as she throws her head back against my shoulder blade, breaking our kiss. I continue through her orgasm and after a few more thrusts, I cum just as hard inside of her.

We don't move after such an intense session. The silence in the room is loud as we try to catch our breaths. I do, however, spend time kissing all over her face, neck, and shoulder as she softly begins giggling, something she does when fully satisfied, and it's always enough to make me fall all over again.

"I love you." The voice is weak and shaky, but it belongs to the woman I love. So, it's perfect...

"I love you too, baby." I say back, my voice hoarse. I slowly move out of her, making her gasp softly at the loss. I pull her into my side to cuddle.

"I'm sorry. For being a handful." She mutters quietly and I chuckle softly.

"Don't be. I'll always be ready to remind you just how amazing you are. I can handle you, baby. Never forget it." I smirk before kissing her tenderly.

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Also, can we talk about the fact that I've reached 300 followers! Love you all!