#and then reblogs post with 'you'll never guess what happened :('

[torgawl]

i want dottore to be playable so bad, i need to know his thoughts on diluc

[lazymilkshakeyy]

wouldn’t it be funny if you watched a movie and then your internet went out the next day so you couldn’t listen to any of the songs stuck in your head???

wouldn’t that be fucking hilarious??? a tad bit humorous??? hysterical, even???

[flavorcountry]

Instant Band Night 27 is in TWO WEEKS

Are you in the San Francisco Bay? Maybe? Do you know anyone who lives there? Probably?? Wanna just reblog this and help out???

You can probably guess what happens at Instant Band Night, but here's how it goes:

The stage has a drum kit, guitar, bass, keyboard, and mics

We draw names out of hats to make instant bands that get 5 minutes in the green room to plan a 5-minute set. That's usually one (1) song

A hat-drawn artist will draw the band's gig poster on a meeting room easel pad while they play

The first rule of Instant Band Night is: 👏 YOU 👏 DON'T 👏 HAVE 👏 TO 👏 PLAY 👏 AN 👏 INSTRUMENT 👏 TO 👏 ATTEND 👏

Every show needs an audience! You can be part of it!

The second rule of Instant Band Night is: We guarantee you (the audience) an astonishingly excellent time

You'll see something you've never seen before every 5 minutes, it's gonna be great

The third rule of Instant Band Night is: Bring a friend or three!

July 11 2024 ALL DETAILS HERE (INCLUDES A VERY GOOD FAQ)

Come play or watch!!! Can't do either? Reblog!!

I've Blazed posts about the previous Instant Band Nights and a few people actually showed up who were either from Tumblr directly or got sent by friends who were, so I'm just going to keep doing it

If you want to hear about future Instant Band Nights, you can add yourself to the email list here!

[runningfrom2am]

in this life or the next

summary: It's the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games, and you were just unlucky enough to get picked; but lucky enough for this Quarter Quell to feature pre-selected teams. You get paired up with District One's pride and joy, the one and only Rafe Cameron.

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 15k (oh my LORD)

tags/warnings: its the hunger games so like... yeah... violence and gore and stuff. definitely swearing, spoilers for the og Hunger Games movie I guess (but also not bc i changed it up a bit- you'll see), reader has a special talent that i won't spoil here, Rafe is lowkey a dick at the beginning, Ward being a shitty dad (what's new). also this isn't thoroughly edited bc.. its 15k words and i'm lazy.

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: hello lovelies!! oh my gosh i have been slowly chipping away at this for actual literal months, and i am so proud of how it turned out!! i’m really glad i could finally post it by my birthday!! (i’m 23 wtf??)

thank you so much if you're going to put in the time to read this, but it honestly means a lot to me that you've made it this far. reblogs and likes would be so appreciated and let me know your thoughts in the replies! i really, really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. let me know if you want a part two of what happens post games, bc i think i left it at a minor baby sized cliffhanger. anyway, i’m off to eat cake now! enjoy!

Staring blankly out at the crowd in front of you, you attempt to process the echoing of your heartbeat in your ears.

"I'd like us to give a round of applause for our brave, brave tributes this year, and wish them the best of luck in this year's quarter quell!" Your attention is drawn to the woman next to you, the District Five escort, Opal, dressed head to toe in bright yellow. A universally happy color- what a joke.

The crowd is mostly silent and you can't bear the thought of even glancing in the direction of your parents. You turn silently as you're ushered back into the building from the stage, tripping slightly over your feet as the shock sets in. People are talking, possibly to you, but you can hardly hear a thing. You almost made it. You were almost eighteen- one more year and you would have been free.

You were granted the briefest of goodbyes to your family, but you were tempted to even turn that down. An action you regret not taking as your parents walk into the room, your mother with tears already coating her cheeks and your father trying to keep a strong resolve for you and your siblings.

"We'll see you soon, Bug. Remember we love you," He whispers into your hair as you sob into his shoulder. You know he doesn't necessarily mean in this lifetime.

Your tunnel vision settles back in as you're walked out of the room, glancing one last time over your shoulder only to see your dad's shoulders shaking from his silent cries as he turns his back to you.

You are quickly pushed onto the train taking you out of District Five, ignoring the other three tributes and your mentors as they talk. You just stare out the window with tired, red eyes and say a silent goodbye to the home you're already sure you'll never see again.

"Y/N..?" The girl next to you says, tapping you on the shoulder and making you jump.

"Hm?" You hum your acknowledgment, looking at the girl beside you. She's only a year older than you, and you went to school together for years; Maisie, you remember.

"I just wanted to make sure you hear them," Maisie whispers, gesturing to Opal as she starts to explain what the premise of the games is this year.

"So," she claps her hands together, clad in tacky yellow gloves. "I'm sure you have noticed that this year there are four of you, and you'll each be paired up with another tribute to compete. Not necessarily from your own District, but, anything is possible, I suppose. The exciting news is that there's a possibility for two winners this year! You and your teammate will be given a score throughout the games, and if your score as the final two is above ten, you will both be crowned victors!" The woman says excitedly- like it's a good thing.

"And if we don't have over ten?" The boy sitting across from you asks flatly.

"Well... the games shall continue," Opal explains vaguely, but you know what that means. You've seen it before.

"Okay, well, how do we get a good score?" The boy asks.

"I-" The escort starts, hesitance clear in her tone as she's quickly interrupted.

"You kill people," Your female mentor answers. She's leaning her elbows on the end of the table, standing with a knife in her hand, spinning it around like it's some kind of toy.

Your eyes drop from her form, staring down at the table in front of you, suddenly remembering your glass of water and quickly grabbing it when you realize your mouth has gone completely dry just from the idea of what's to come.

You arrive at the Capitol in the middle of the night and despite this fact, the crowds are still there. You didn't expect this, even though you've seen it on the beat-up television in your living room every year. It feels less real, somehow, when you're the one getting pushed through the crowd, not knowing what to do besides give awkward smiles to people yelling your name.

Your room is beautiful. You've never seen anything like this, but you can fully customize it at will with a remote, and this level of technology fascinates you. You spend hours flicking through different images that can appear on the walls, surrounding you in another world. Exhaustion and the sound of an artificial thunderstorm put you to sleep with the remote still resting in your palm.

"Up, up, up, my dear! We've got a big day ahead!" Opal's cheery voice startles you awake from your less-than-cozy spot on the floor. "There's breakfast on the table then we've got to get you down to prep, so hurry up, please." She says, and just like that she's gone, no doubt off to wake the other District Five tributes in a similar fashion.

"You're going to be meeting your teammates for the first time today so you can train together- gosh isn't that just so exciting!" Opal claps as you all stand in the elevator. There's a silence that follows as you and Maisie just nod, not excited about the whole idea. You're about to meet someone who will either be spending the last days of your life with you, or be killing you themselves, and you're not fond of either.

"This way you'll get to train together first, which I do believe to be a very generous act on behalf of the game makers." She adds, making you roll your eyes. How considerate. The most you can hope for is someone who is capable, and preferably someone who isn't in the twelve to fifteen age range, having seen that there were several drawn from different districts.

You shift on your feet as you try to adjust to the uncomfortably tight catsuit they squeezed you into, covered in what must be sapphire and diamond rhinestones, pinching your skin with every slight movement. Gold accents line the seams of the suit, extending out into something that resembles wings and lightning bolts protruding from your back. District Five; power. You get it, but we're the diamonds necessary? You hardly take note of the varying outfits you're surrounded with from the other kids in your district, before Opal is guiding the four of you up the line of extravagant carriages you're meant to parade out on for the people of the Capitol to fawn over.

You take note of where all of the other tributes from Five are lead, guessing based on the order of carriages that Maisie got paired up with another girl from Eleven, and the boys somehow ended up paired together. There must be some sort of personal aspect to this decision, considering you have watched those two boys fight back home. You're last, and Opal looks at you excitedly as you follow her up, and up, and up- to the very front of the line.

"Surprise!" She grins, clapping excitedly as you approach the very first carriage. "Y/N, getting paired with a career is huge. Your odds are good already, your partner has trained his whole life- he even volunteered."

"Sucks for him." You mutter under your breath as you get closer, eyeing up the boy in front of you, wearing an almost matching outfit. All the rhinestones make sense now, blending power with luxury could only mean as much.

"Y/N Y/L/N, meet Rafe Cameron. He'll be your teammate in the games." She smiles as she introduces you.

"Hi." You say quietly, taking his hand as he holds it out to you to help you up onto the carriage.

"Hey." He mutters, avoiding your gaze. It's off to a rough start for him for sure, seeing he's being paired up with someone from an outlying district must be daunting, when for you it should be exciting. Rafe did volunteer, yes, but he doesn't want to risk any kind of attachment- despite what the people of the Capitol want for their entertainment. He wants to come out alive, he doesn't care so much about who he's with.

"Okay, Y/N, remember to smile, please." Opal reminds you and you nod, looking down at her as you hold onto the handle in front of you.

You promise her with a nod, willing to do almost anything at this point to win the favour of possible sponsors. Again, your odds look better next to a career on that front, as well.

Quickly everyone is cleared away from the horses and the carriages and you start moving, catching you off guard and you stumble a little, readjusting your grip on the railing. "Careful." Rafe says beside you, quick to reach out to steady you if you needed it. You think you see the smallest of smiles on his face, but that must have just been your own mind trying to find comfort in anything around you.

"I got it." You whisper, blushing slightly. You've been with your teammate for all of a minute, and you're already proving yourself to be clumsy.

The lights hit your eyes the same time all the cheering does, being the first carriage, it's already so loud you can hardly hear yourself think. You snap out of it quickly, plastering on a smile once you see your own face on a giant screen ahead of you, you don't even look like yourself anymore. Your eyes land on the screen adjacent to the one showing you, seeing Rafe as well. He's smiling too, clearly having headed Opal's advice, or his many years of training is getting to him and he's excited. You really don't know. Then his head turns, and you turn your head as well, making dead eye contact with him for only a moment before he's looking past you into the crowds, taking in the moment.

When you finally get out of the extremely public eye and back into the building you exited from, you feel like you can finally breathe again. Not fully, in the tight, rigid suit they had you dressed up in, but more than you realized you were with all that yelling in your ears and lights in your face.

"District Five, right?" Rafe asks you as you're both stepping down and you nod. "Jeez, you don't talk much, do you?" He follows up with, taking a water bottle from someone who's walking by with them.

"I talk." You reply quietly. "Just... not much to talk about at the moment."

"The shock? Yeah, that'll do it." He nods, taking a sip from the water bottle and holding it out to you. You shake your head and push it away, making him shrug. "Shitty bust when you're not a volunteer."

You just stare at him, taken off guard by the comment. "That being said..." He leans in closer to make sure no one else hears. "I've been waiting my whole life for this, so don't ruin it for me, yeah?"

You pull back away from him and just nod again, not wanting to get on his bad side already. He won't be the one to kill you, probably, but it would still be nice if you spent your final days without your teammate hating your guts. "Thanks, darling." He smirks, patting your shoulder and brushing past you to go to the elevators.

The next day, bright and early yet again, you have your first day of training. You're sure Rafe won't even need it, but you certainly will. Your mentor told you he will likely be using it to size up the other tributes, especially considering there is a staggering amount of them this year, and you will need to focus on survival skills. Only survival skills, if you had to pick one thing- and your mentor drove that into your head until it was all that was echoing in your mind when you entered the training center.

After the trainers speech which ironically tried to do the same thing, you beeline straight for the fire making station. You're shocked to see almost no one else listened, definitely none of the boys, mostly lining up to show off their physical strengths, likely to try and intimidate each other. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't working.

You look up as you hear echoing laughter coming from the other side of the room, eyes scanning over the wall lined with silhouette targets, and racks with an array of weapons before landing on your teammate, laughing away with the other career tributes over a joke you didn't hear. He's got a spear in one hand, leaning his weight on it as his head drops back with laughter. You shake your head to get back on task, rolling the rough wood in your palms in hopes of making a spark. Good to see at least one of you is having fun, especially in your final days.

After a few minutes you get it, sitting back into your calves where you were kneeling on the ground, taking a breath of relief as you're satisfied with your success. You glance around to see how others are doing, giving a small smile and wave to Maisie when you see her, reading a book about different edible plants and trying desperately to memorize every image. You watch as Rafe takes the same spear he was leaning on before, hurling towards one of the targets. A direct hit, right in the chest, slightly right of the centre. You jump a little at the sound it makes on impact, looking finally at the boy who threw it.

He's pacing, huffing and looking a little frustrated with himself. A little to the left would have been perfect, but it was a kill shot nonetheless. There would be no coming back from that, and you count yourself lucky that it likely won't be you in place of the target in the games.

You quickly put out your fire and try again, making sure you've got the hang of it. You'll sit here all day if you must. After three more successful attempts, you're satisfied for the day, deciding you'll return to that station tomorrow and try again. You get up and brush the dirt off your knees, trekking over to where they have supplies to make game traps. You've never done this before, but there's no better time to learn, especially since your teammate has shown no interest in survival skills so far today.

"What are you doing?" Suddenly Rafe is standing behind you, as you're once again kneeling on the ground attempting to get the trigger on your bladeless trap to work.

You jump a little, startled by someone talking to you. "Uh, trying to make a snare, I think." You answer, turning to look up at him.

"Looks good." He nods, crouching down next to you. "Uh, isn't there supposed to be a blade or a spearhead or something on that piece?" He says, pointing to it.

"Well, yeah, I just didn't want to stab myself by accident." You laugh slightly, trying the trigger again- and this time it works, snapping forward into his arm.

"Ouch, yeah, fair enough." Rafe chuckles, rubbing the spot on his arm where the wood made contact.

You just nod and begin to reset it to test it again. "What if you can't get any of this shit in the arena?" He asks.

"What, a stick?" You ask, hitting the trigger one more time, sending the stick into his arm again, which he had decided not to move.

"Ow! Yes, a stick. We don't know what it will look like." He rubs his arm, examining the trap you built closer now.

"Then we're screwed I guess." You joke, leaning back on your calves again, watching him dissect it piece by piece to figure out how it works.

"So, is this like, your thing?" Rafe asks, and you tilt your head at him as you think it over.

"My thing?" You ask, unsure entirely what he meant. "I've never made one before, if that's what you're asking."

"Really?" He seems shocked by this.

"Uh, yeah, really. Unfortunately for you, you got paired up with someone who has zero survival or combat skills."

Rafe looks at you, a smug grin crossing his features. "Ha ha, very funny." He clearly thinks you're joking, but you're definitely not.

"I'm serious." You say, confused as to why he doesn't believe you.

His smile falters, replaced with wrinkles of confusion on his forehead. "But- I just watched you look at the instruction book for no more than like, three seconds before sitting down to make this."

"And..?"

"If you've never done it before it's supposed to be harder than that."

"Well, I've seen other people do it on TV and stuff every year for like, ever." You shrug. "I've just got a good memory, I guess."

Rafe nods, looking at the deconstructed trap in front of him for a moment, thinking about the implications of this. How far does this go? Could he use it? He'd never dreamt of having to work in a team in his games, but maybe it would benefit him after all. "Come with me." He stands up, and you follow as he paces over to two big screens, covered with a large array of different symbols.

"Try this, I just want to see something." Rafe says, standing next to you with his arms crossed as you quickly look over the screen, reaching down toward the one in front of you. You notice quickly that the screens mirror each other, all the images placed in the same spots as they are above. You look up at your teammate briefly who nods at you and then you tap one, watching it disappear from both screens before you tap the matching symbol. It's a matching game.

Your eyes are locked on the top screen as you tap away at the bottom one, quickly making all the images disappear one by one. It takes you no more than a minute to get rid of them all, and then a timer appears on the screen replaying your every move in real-time. Forty-two seconds. Were you really going that fast?

"Neat." Rafe says to himself, nodding as he watches it replay on the screen. That was impressive, sure, but his mind is straining to find a practical implication for this in the arena. "Go back to survival stuff. Learn as much as you can." He settles on, turning and walking off back to where he was before, returning to combat training.

The four days of training fly by insanely fast, and that's likely due to your dread of what's to come. you've got through everything in survival no less than three times, and you're pretty sure last night you dreamt of plants and making a fire. Not surprisingly, Rafe has left you pretty much alone the whole time, but you did watch from a distance as he cycled through every weapon the training center had to offer, proving he's almost mastered every last one. Of course, with over ten years of training, anything less wouldn't make sense. What scares you is the other careers showing a similar skill level to that of your teammate, but he seems to be on good terms with them. Again, maybe this would be a good thing in the beginning of the games.

You sit down for your last day of making fires and fishing hooks, working solely on memory since day one, you're feeling pretty confident that the elements or exposure won't be what takes you out- but you don't know if that's a good thing or not. You just hope your death will be quick.

"Y/N, c'mere." Rafe is suddenly calling to you, motioning for you to join him in the combat area. Not seeing much of a choice, and not looking forward to another day of doing the same thing over and over, you listen.

You make your way over, avoiding the gaze of other tributes who are looking at you like you're about to make a fool of yourself. It's possible you are. "I want you to learn how to use this." He says as you walk up, holding out the handle of a knife to you.

You take it, turning the sharp blade over in your hand. "I thought you were the weapons master." You joke, looking up at him briefly.

"Well, I need you to make fires and shit so you have to stay alive somehow, and if we get separated or something I need to know you can at least defend yourself. These are good from a distance and up close, but remember that any weapon you have they can take and use against you. So keep distance whenever you can." He answers, pointing over to the target about fifteen feet away. "So, throw it."

You look over to where he was pointing, adjusting your grip on the handle as you nod, taking in the information he's dumping on you. He is probably right, especially since you don't think he plans on protecting you himself. Why would he? If you die, he can still win without you.

You lift your arm over your shoulder, closing one eye to narrow down your aim before throwing it hard towards the target, which the knife bounces off of and clatters to the ground. You and Rafe both turn at the same time to look at the group that's laughing at you, the clang of the metal on the cement echoing loudly in the vast space.

"Don't worry about them. They're not there." Rafe is quick to grab another one, handing it to you the same way. "Try again, this time, hold it like this..." He says, grabbing your hand and placing your fingers in the correct spots on the handle. "Keep your wrist tense and straight, don't flick it or anything. Yeah, like that." He nods, taking a step back.

You look over how you're holding it, committing the feeling and finger placement to memory before raising your arm again. You throw it again, and this time it sticks, but your aim is off and it ends up in the target's leg. You look over at Rafe, unsure if you're hoping for approval or just satisfaction. "That's perfect." He nods. "Not a death blow, but that'll buy you time to get away. which is all you need."

"Okay." You agree quietly.

"Would it help if you watched me?" He offered, already grabbing a new knife while you nod. "So, you want to follow through with the throw, your shoulders should end about here if you're doing it right. You get more power that way, and better aim." He explains, standing with one foot forward, parallel to the target.

You step back to watch his strategy, noting the way he held the blade and his form when he aimed to throw it. He lets it fly from his fingers as his shoulders fall forward, smirking to himself as it hits the bullseye circle, right in the chest.

"You got it?" He asks, standing up straight again. You nod in response and he's handing you yet another knife to try again.

You go back and forth for hours, not caring that you're keeping anyone else from practicing. You're not the best at it, but it's become muscle memory now, and every time it sticks, most of the time hitting the silhouette somewhere. You tried the moving targets briefly, the gold, pixelated figures running at you quickly. You were immediately overwhelmed, and Rafe ended up having to step in to help. He said after that the minimal skill you had would be good enough to get away, and that is all you would need. You just have to focus on that.

You didn't talk a lot, besides taking a few short breaks to gather the knives and his arrows as Rafe explained the pros and cons of every weapon they had present, showing you briefly how to use some of them. Mostly how to defend yourself against them. It's hard for him to sum up years of training in one day, but he's dead set on the idea that you won't need most of it- just having to focus on keeping the two of you sheltered and fed, he can handle the rest; hopefully.

You sit outside the training center next to Rafe, waiting for your name to be called. It was the youngest female tribute from his district first, so if you had to guess, you would be third and fourth to go, which doesn't buy you a lot of time to decide what to do to best show your skills.

"What are you gonna do?" You ask, whispering in the deathly quiet room.

"Huh?" Rafe hums, leaning closer to hear you better.

You clear your throat, before speaking this time, unsure if you were clear enough. "What are you gonna do? Like which skill?" You clarify.

"Oh, uh..." He mutters, adjusting how he's sitting as he thinks about what to say. "I'm just going to cycle through some different weapons, different distance targets, I think. My mentors want me to show like, a variety of what I can do."

You nod at this, making a mental note of that. Maybe you should do the matching game and then try the knives. Opal told you that you would be scored both individually, and as a team. You hope you won't bring down his score too much, since you know he's aiming high. You planned on going for a mid-level score, not to be seen as a threat but also not as an easy kill. A perfect six would be your ideal score. "What about you?" Rafe interrupts your thought process.

"I'm not sure." You answer honestly.

"You should do your survival stuff. That will improve our team score, if we show them we have strengths at both." Rafe suggests. That's not actually a bad idea. Your individual score will likely be lower, but that's a risk you're willing to take.

"Yeah, I'll do that."

You ended up scoring a six, the judges obviously not seeing you as any kind of threat. This is what you expected, though, and you were correct about your group score as well. Rafe and you together scored a ten. On his own, he scored a ten, so you hadn't affected it in the way you feared. This left you reeling over the idea of other tributes seeing you both as a threat as you stand in yet another extravagant dress, waiting in line to be called out for your interview. The games were tomorrow, and the last thing you wanted was to get in front of a crowd and subtly plead with them to let you live, to send you gifts, and to give you their sympathy.

So far it's been in the same order they called everyone for assessments yesterday, which means you would be next. Rafe stands behind you, arms crossed in a suit that looks more expensive than any you've seen back home in all of your life, but he looks comfortable in it. Your dress is once again covered in rhinestones, and your waist is cinched in so tight you can hardly breathe as it is, so you're not looking forward to going on stage.

"Our next tribute, welcome to the stage from District Five, Miss Y/N Y/L/N!" You hear the familiar voice of Caesar Flickerman calling you out and some guards usher you forward onto the stage, very briefly glancing over your shoulder at Rafe.

You're quick to smile as you turn back around, giving a small wave to the host and then out to the audience as they cheer for you. For a brief moment, you feel as if they don't plan on watching you die as early as tomorrow, you feel as if they're rooting for you. "Hi!" You say as you get closer and Caesar stands up to greet you, shaking your hand and giving you a quick hug before gesturing for you to sit down across from him.

You look around the large theatre, spotting every camera you can. Your family is out there watching, somewhere, and you know they'll see right through this show you have to put on. You wish they wouldn't. You can picture so vividly your living room back home, with your parents and siblings scattered across the couch and the floor watching you with bated breath, they can see you- and on some level, you can see them too.

"Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for being here." Caesar sighs, reaching out and patting your hand where it sits on the armrest next to you.

"Well, I didn't have any other plans for the night, so..." You shrug, making him laugh. Laughter echoes from the audience and you smile, hoping that your plan to win people over is working.

"What? A beautiful girl like you?" He asks after he's done laughing. "You weren't planning on spending some of your free time with your teammate?" As if you got even a minute of free time since you've been here.

"Well, I guess we'll never know." You chuckle, looking back at the boy where he stands in the wing, giving you a small smile.

"Now listen, Y/N, Rafe is..." He has to stop after mentioning his name as cheers erupt again, laughing as he waits for the audience to quiet down. "Your teammate is, as you may have guessed, a popular face in the Capitol right now. Are you feeling lucky about your pairing?"

Rafe crossed his arms as he watches intently, feeling smug about his odds, especially now knowing the Capitol's opinion of him. He knows his dad is back home watching, full of pride that his son has become a fan favourite.

"I am." You answer honestly. "He's very talented."

"And handsome, don't you think?"

"I mean, who am I to argue with the people?" You joke, waving your hand dismissively as you hear the cheers pick up again. "Besides, his looks won't save us. We will save ourselves." You add seriously.

Caesar nods in acknowledgment, showing that to an extent, he agrees with you. "Well, I hope that you are right, dear." He smiles, getting up to signal you've run out of time. You stand as well, taking his hand as he holds it up above your heads. "It was so lovely to meet you, and may the odds stay ever in your favor. Y/N Y/L/N, everyone!"

You smile and thank him quietly, waving to everyone with both hands as you walk across the stage to exit on the other side. You take a few deep breaths as you step into yet another waiting room, watching the screen as Rafe is called out right behind you.

Rafe sits down on the chair across from Caesar after his introduction, which allows a few moments for the audience to quiet down. He smiles proudly as he rests one of his feet on his other knee, bouncing his leg with anxiety. He hopes it's interpreted as excitement. "Rafe." Caesar smiles at him, sitting back down as well. "I'll be honest, I have been so excited to finally meet you."

"It's good to meet you too." Rafe grins, chuckling slightly at the few whistles he gets scattered from the crowd.

"You got a fabulous score, how are you feeling about that?"

"Really good, yeah. Obviously I've been waiting my whole life for this opportunity, so it feels amazing to see it all paying off." Rafe answers, focussing on keeping the confidence in his tone.

"We can tell, can't we?" Caesar laughs, riling up the audience again, making Rafe laugh to himself as he softly shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah. So, with all this planning you've been doing, how do you feel about getting paired up? You probably expected to be going in solo."

"I did, for sure, but I don't think this is a bad thing." Rafe admits.

"Oh, getting along well with your teammate?" Caesar asks, a hint of suggestion in his tone.

"Yeah, we get on really well." Rafe exaggerates your relationship a bit, knowing it will earn you more sponsors, and maybe keep other tributes away from you in the games. "At least I think we do, I'm not fully sure about her thoughts on me, though."

"You scored incredibly well together, despite Y/N having a fairly average score on her own. What are your thoughts and feelings on that?"

Rafe chuckles as he leans forward a bit, pointing out to the audience as he speaks. "Don't underestimate her based on the score. I won't give you any spoilers, but trust me, don't overlook her. She's got as good a shot as any of us. Maybe better."

Caesar makes a surprised expression as he nods. "Well okay! Does she have some sort of secret weapon we should be worried about?" He chuckles, gripping the armrests and looking around as the audience laughs.

Rafe just shrugs in response, smirking slightly, which you can tell the audience just eats up. You're trying to decide if this is good or bad for you, though, as you watch, gnawing at your nails in anticipation as you stare at the screen.

"Okay, alright, don't spoil anything then." Caesar laughs. "It'll make for a better show, and I can get behind that."

After a moment of waiting for the cheers to die down, Caesar speaks up again. "Rafe, if I can ask, I know your father has a lot of influence in your district- how is he feeling about your selection for the games?"

You furrow your brow a little bit as you look at the screen, finally learning something interesting about your teammate. If he's from a prominent family in District One of all places, that would certainly explain his attitude. Rafe, on the other hand, doesn't want to talk about his father at all- but of course they would bring him up.

"Yeah, of course." Rafe replies, shifting in his seat. "He's thrilled, it's a huge honour to be here, and to be the first out of his children to be chosen is really special to me. I just hope I can make him and my sisters proud, he's always encouraged us to volunteer."

"I'm sure that you will." Caesar smiles at him. "I hope I will have the honour of hosting one of your sisters on this stage one day, as well."

Your stomach churns just watching this. How can any father who loves his children want this fate for them? This was your father's worst nightmare. You watch as Rafe nods with a smile, and you can see behind his eyes that he doesn't want that, not at all.

The audience cheers as they both stand up, shaking hands before Rafe leaves the stage, a cocky smirk on his face as he waves and winks at the audience. Before Rafe makes it down to the waiting room, you're grabbed an escorted out, heading for the elevator back to your room.

You can't eat, but you know you should. This will likely be your last meal for a while. You decide on just taking a large bowl of fruit and toast to your room, trying to get it down slowly with all the nerves, while you have a bath. Your parents never let you eat in the bath. It's hard to get out knowing this is likely the last bath you'll ever have.

The morning goes by in a blur, you feel Opal's arms around you as she hugs you goodbye and wishes you luck. You know you'll need all of it. You stare down at the ground in front of you as you're pushed onto a plane, of sorts, along with all the other tributes. Once you're sat down, you look around at everyone else. You remember all of their names as you scan over their faces, but you wish you didn't. You get stuck on one of the girls from District Eleven, Hope, who was only thirteen.

She's shaking, and you can see that from where you're sat down the row from her. She reminds you of Rue, the tribute from last year. Her death was a tragedy, it broke the hearts of everyone outside of the Capitol and the career districts. Hope's curly hair sat in a bun on top of her head, and tears fell down her cheeks as she sniffled. She got paired up with a girl from Twelve- the lengths the Capitol will go to to make a mockery of last years games will never cease to amaze you.

"Hey, you look a little pale." Rafe whispers, leaning close to you. You didn't even notice him sit down on the other side of you.

You shake your head slightly, looking down at your knees. "I'm fine."

"Don't think about it." Rafe instructs you, holding his arm out for the tracker to be injected as a guard approaches with the device.

You wince as you hear it get shot into his arm and he chuckles, shaking his arm off to ease the sting. You raise your shaking arm as they hold their hand out expectantly to you. You don't know what it is they're putting in you, but you've never been fond of needles. This is a million times worse. "It's not that bad," Rafe tells you, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel pressure on your forearm, followed by a sharp, stabbing pain. You bite your tongue to keep from making a sound, dropping your arm onto your lap as they quickly walk away.

"What did they do?" You ask him, trying to keep a steady tone.

"It's a tracker, so they know where we are in the arena." He explains quietly. You were the only two talking, and you notice it's earning you glares from several other tributes. Rafe notices this as well, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, taking this time to size everyone up.

The plane takes off, and before you know it, you're landing at the arena on the outskirts of Capitol property. You wonder if you're close to the ocean, not that you'll get to see it anyways.

You're paraded off of the plane, still trying not to let it show how afraid you are of what's to come. You make the briefest of eye contact with Maisie as she's pulled towards a different hallway, and neither of you have it in you to smile anymore.

"We've gotta get supplies, that's our first move." Rafe says to you as you're led out of earshot of other tributes, into your own hall.

"My mentor said to run." You reply quietly.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. "Your what, one mentor said that? Cool. I have fifteen that are still alive and well enough to show up every year. I think we should get supplies." He tells you firmly, but you know that will get you instantly killed, maybe not him, but you stand no shot. "Just stick with me if you want to live."

You just nod a little bit, glancing at him again briefly before you're directed into a separate room across the hall from him. His pedestal will be next to yours, which is a bit of a relief. Your stylist quickly instructs you to strip, and then she helps you into the uniform you assume you'll all be wearing. It's exactly the same as last year, you notice this quickly, but with a '75' logo embroidered on the chest where the District Twelve tribute had her pin placed. Katniss, you remember her name was. She had volunteered for her sister, and at the time you contemplated heavily on whether or not you would do the same. She was so, so close to winning- to getting to see her sister again, but she and the boy from her district, the final two tributes, ended up committing together rather than giving the Capitol their Victor. It was an admirable stance, but you couldn't imagine what that was like for her family, and his.

You step off the concrete floor once you're dressed, instructed to get into the pod that will lift you up into the arena; a glass elevator. Your stylist says nothing to you as they walk out of the room, the glass door sliding shut in front of you. Your knees get weak as you realize you are totally, completely alone, and likely no more than twenty minutes from dying. You think of your family, your siblings, your dad- and the last words he said to you. You'll see him soon.

Your thoughts are halted when the elevator starts to move, lifting you up as the ceiling falls away and you can see sunlight coming through. You squint and shield your eyes as you try to look up to get a better grasp on your surroundings before you can even see anything. Once trees come into view you're frantically looking around, trying to process as much information as you can, and quickly. It's exactly the same as last year, but from what you can tell, flipped in reverse, and made larger to accommodate twice as many tributes. Or everything on camera last year was flipped. There's a silver cornucopia in the middle with the timer that's immediately counting down and supplies inside and scattered around the field in front of you. Rafe is to your right, and a boy from Seven on your left. He scored a six, the same as you, so he's not the biggest threat to you immediately.

You adjust your stance, getting ready to run once the timer hits zero. In what direction, you don't know yet. Rafe wants you to run to the supplies, but statistically, the most deaths will happen in the next five minutes and you don't want any part of that. The supply bags and weapons spread out on the grass are all the same too, by the looks of it. The closest bag to you got picked up by the girl from Seven last year, and it didn't have much of anything helpful. If you're remembering right, it had a rope and some matches, and that was it. It definitely would be useful, but you know you can do better. There should be a bag four pedestals to your right, with a water bottle, an emergency blanket, a fire starter, a first aid kit, and a knife. Right now, that's the one you have to get to. That's your best bet.

Ten, nine, eight... The timer ticks down to the final seconds as you look over at Rafe, who's already looking at you. You point to the bag as your eyes land on it on the other side of him across the field, and he looks at you confused. He's closer, he has a better shot, but you know he won't take it.

Rafe is confused, following your finger and spotting the bag. Why would you want that one specifically? There are others closer, he doesn't feel like now is a time to be picky.

Four, three, two...

Your ears ring with shock as the clock reaches zero, and you're watching most of the other tributes booking it for the center. No one has seen your bag yet as you jump down, beelining across the field and narrowly brushing past Rafe in your move for the small backpack. He stops to let you pass, almost crashing into you head-on. He doesn't have time to worry about you, so he continues on his path to the middle, but he's lost time. Precious time that he doesn't have to lose right at the beginning of the games.

He gets into the bloodbath that the cornucopia has already turned into, looking back over his shoulder quickly as he grabs at any weapon he can get his hands on. He quickly has to sacrifice the blade he just grabbed when he hears footsteps quickly approaching from behind him, turning quickly and plunging it into the boy's chest. He doesn't think to look at who it was.

Cannon's echo around you, and you're counting how many internally as you get to the bag, reaching down to grab it as you run past, trying not to slow down. You look back over your shoulder, hoping to spot your teammate somewhere, but you can't see him. You're scanning the area, blocking out the blood you see flying and scattered along the silver metal of the cornucopia. You can hardly hear any screams over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You can't help but watch as the girl from Three jumps on who is supposed to be her partner, a girl from Twelve, snapping her neck in a second. Within moments, she just drops to the ground next to her- another cannon following. That makes a strong incentive for working in teams. At least Rafe won't betray you early on.

You freeze up for a moment, stopping to scan your surroundings. You still can't find Rafe, taking in the number of bodies scattered around the cornucopia and a few tributes running into the tree line. At least some people were smart. Something flies past your head, making you jump back a step as you look up ahead of you. Within an instant, you're being tackled back by the body of the boy from your district.

"Y/N, fancy seeing you here." He chuckles darkly while you try and fight him off.

"Don't!" You squeak out, him pressing his forearm down against your throat on the ground.

"I've wanted to do this since the second they called your name." He growls, shoving you down again.

"We can help each other, Jack..." You say weakly, clawing at his arm.

"You don't need me. You've got your career boyfriend- and whatever your secret weapon is." He scoffs. "You don't have a secret weapon, Y/N. He's bluffing and he won't convince us."

You gather all your strength and knee him in the crotch, scrambling to get away as he fumbles for just a moment. "God- you are a bitch!" He shouts, grabbing for your ankle just has you pick up the knife he had thrown at you. You grip it the way Rafe had shown you, quickly shoving it into Jack's leg. You just needed to get away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, backing away quickly. Jack doesn't say another word, cutting his losses and getting up to make an escape for the woods. You hope he ends up okay.

You make your break for it as well, running back towards the woods as you once again scan your surroundings for your partner.

Suddenly you're on the ground, having run straight into the side of one of the pedestals and falling over it. You yelp with the sudden impact of the ground, scrambling to get up and continue when suddenly someone is grabbing your jacket, slamming you into the pedestal again. You scream, trying to shove them off, but they're much stronger than you. "Jael! Wait, wait- Jael!" You make out your own voice yelling the boy's name, which makes him falter. He's the oldest tribute from Eight- he seems shocked you even know his name.

In the moment when he loosened his grip, he jerks forward and then falls over you, a cannon booming making you gasp as you panic to get away. Rafe is quickly running towards you, slinging the bow he just used over his shoulder and yanking the arrow out of the boy's back. "Y/N, let's go!" He shouts, motioning for you to follow him as you continue toward the tree line, both of you keeping an eye on what's happening behind you as you disappear into the woods.

"Let's stay close, but not too close," Rafe suggests as soon as you feel safe enough to slow down, your chest heaving with the exertion of energy and boost of adrenaline. He glances at you briefly, then does a double take. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, coughing to ease the stinging in your throat. "I'm fine. You?"

"Good," Rafe answers, slowing his pace to match yours.

"We, uh, I think we should go the other way." You say, looking around to try and mentally place where abouts you are.

Rafe stops and furrows his brow at you, seemingly frustrated by your resistance. "Why does it matter?"

"The arena, it's the same as last year. Exactly the same. Just, scaled up a bit." You explain. "We should head south, that's where the river is. We'll need water soon."

Rafe laughs slightly, his demeanor changing as he places his hands on his hips and looks at you. "No shit," He says, truly surprised and impressed that you could tell. A lot of the games tend to look like this, and he would never notice a repeat arena down to the rivers if it punched him in the face. Your 'secret weapon' is already paying off. "And you could tell that right away?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess so. The bags were all the same, everything was laid out the same. I bet there's a river down south." You nod, having a sudden realization. "We should get to that cave- the one the tributes from Twelve holed up in last year. That'll be a good, stable shelter. We can pretty much wait it out." You say, starting to walk in what you believe is the right direction.

"No," Rafe replies, making you stop in your tracks. "Unless you want me to have to kill you in the end."

"Oh, right." You forgot about that part, keeping score. "We're still going to need somewhere to sleep, though."

"Yeah, we'll find it anyways." Rafe nods, carrying on in the direction you started heading. You follow a few steps behind, keeping a bit of distance in the somewhat awkward silence that fell over you two after his comment about having to kill you.

You walk in the thick of the woods for about an hour before you feel like you're reaching the river. You can feel it under your feet, the soil is slightly softer, and the trees a little more green.

Cannons interrupt your thoughts a few times in the hike, totaling up to twenty-three by the time you reach the riverbank. "You were right." Rafe chuckles, mentally disparaging any skepticism he faced during the long, quiet walk.

"Thank god." You giggle, dropping your bag and crouching down to dig through it, hoping for a water bottle. You were right, everything you expected was accounted for.

"Why that bag?" Rafe says, already sitting down on the rocky water's edge to rest for a moment.

"Huh?" You question, unsure you heard over the shuffling of the bag while you zip it up.

"You pointed to it, during the countdown. Why did you want that one?"

"Oh, uh, like I said they all looked the same as last year, and I hoped I remembered what was inside." You say, laying down to reach into the water and fill up the bottle.

"Were you right?"

You nod with a small smile, sitting back up and holding the bottle out to him as you cross your legs.

"That's actually insane." Rafe shakes his head in disbelief as he takes it, downing just about everything in it before handing it back.

You take it and refill it again for yourself. "I'll choose to take that as a compliment."

Rafe wouldn't admit it, but at this moment as he's watching you drink, he's grateful that he got paired up with you. But now, that it's been shown on national television that you know the arena in and out, he wonders what obstacles the gamemakers will desperately throw your way.

"We should keep moving. I feel like a sitting duck out here in the open, I don't like it." Rafe mutters, checking his attitude as he stands up. You're quick to fill up the bottle again, following behind him yet again as the arrows in his quiver rattle together against his back walking over the rocky and unstable terrain, knife gripped tightly in his hand.

You wonder to yourself how he's feeling about leaving behind his predestined alliance of the career pack, but with the factor of most of them being paired up with other districts, it was already too unpredictable. You wouldn't have stuck around either.

The sun started to set as you followed the river upstream. You didn't want to settle without some kind of shelter, and you were committed to finding that cave before you could relax. You could tell that Rafe had the same idea, his steps ahead of you gradually picking up speed with the bow still gripped firmly in his palm.

"It's a beautiful sunset." You speak your mind before thinking, desperately wanting to fill the silence.

Rafe just hums in response, looking up only briefly before training his gaze once again on the ragged rocks at his feet and continuing on. "What's it like in District One?" You ask.

"Fine." He replies coldly. You aren't sure what you expected, but this response was pretty on par. You knew you had almost no chance of survival, so it would at least be nice to get to know the person you spend your final days with, even if he would be the one to kill you in the end.

"I've never been, but I've heard it's... nice." You've only ever heard about it from the perspective of other bitter individuals from Five, jealous of the cushy lifestyle everyone knew they must have lived.

"Yeah." Rafe agrees, clearly not wanting to discuss it.

"What are your sister's names?" You ask, deciding to push a little bit. It's not like he can kill you just yet.

Rafe sighs, but answers anyways. "Wheezie and Sarah."

You're shocked that he answered at all, but you could tell in his interview that he has a soft spot for them. "Cute." You nod, smiling to yourself. "Is Wheezie a nickname?"

"Yep, it's short for Louise."

"That's adorable." You grin, shaking your head.

"Hey, look. There." Rafe says, changing the subject and pointing down the rocks, where there's a small opening under a ledge.

"That's it!" You exclaim, deciding to drop the topic of his sisters in favour for finding your shelter for the night. You rush past him, watching your step as you climb down into the small cave.

Rafe quickly draws his bow, slowing down and peaking into the cave and bracing himself for your screams. How could you be so careless in a game like this? He doesn't understand your lightheartedness, your somewhat positive attitude, and your ability to make small talk despite the circumstances. "Hey, careful!"

"It's perfect!" You call back out as you look around, and Rafe steps down carefully, looking around more carefully than you had. He relaxes once he's satisfied that there's nothing down there waiting to kill you.

"Nice, okay." Rafe nods to himself, and you both get to work making a small fire near the entrance, hidden from view.

You take off your jacket and roll it up, using it as a makeshift pillow as you lay next to the fire, staring at the orange flicker of the flames you made.

Rafe is sitting across from you, knees tucked up to his chest as he does just the same. His mind is absolutely reeling- he needs to find something to eat, and soon. That will be the first thing you'll do in the morning, he'll have to employ your help to find something edible. "How are you with making traps?" He asks.

"I can do it." You reply, sitting up and leaning on your elbow so you can see him. "I'll set some up in the morning."

Rafe nods a little bit. He already knew you could, of course, but he's wondering about the logistics of how they work. "So like... hypothetically, would they work the same if you made them bigger?"

"Like... human-sized?" You ask, catching on to what he's suggesting. It's not ethical- but nothing about this game is. For you, this would definitely be preferable to fighting other kids to death over and over again.

Rafe nods, adjusting how he was sitting and crossing his legs.

"Yeah. I can't see why not." You answer. "It would be harder since I've never done it, but I think it could work."

"Then I say we try it."

The next day, you wake up as the sun rises and the light beats down on you from the entrance of the cave. You didn't sleep comfortably, that's for sure, waking up twice throughout the night to the sound of the cannon. That's twenty-seven. You wonder how many teams have already reached their ten-kill quota, you imagine someone in the career pack already has. Both times when you were startled awake, Rafe was standing at the cave entrance, bow drawn as he squinted into the darkness, hoping that whoever was out hunting other tributes wasn't nearby.

You sit up slowly, stretching out your tired limbs as you look over to see Rafe, fast asleep with a blade in his hand. You should let him sleep, and get to work on finding something to eat, and making some traps.

You grab one of the knives Rafe somehow collected from the bag laying next to him as quietly as possible, sneaking outside and taking in your surroundings. The sound of the river flowing and the smell of morning dew was amazing- you wish you could truly enjoy it in different circumstances.

You quickly get to work tracking down something to eat, landing on a few different plants you know to be edible. You're trekking through the woods near your cave when you come across an apple tree- making you pause as you look it over. It looks out of place- and maybe no one got close enough to it in the games last time that you wouldn't have seen it, but that seems unlikely. It must be new; it makes for the perfect place to try and set up a trap for the next hungry tribute who would be unfortunate enough to wander too close to your hideout.

You're digging a hole in the ground with your hands, avoiding the roots of the tree and sticking in some sticks you sharpened when you hear a twig snap behind you. You freeze, hoping that by some miracle, it's just an animal. You slowly turn your head to try and look, picking up the knife from the ground next to you and holding it tight.

"Just me." Rafe's voice relaxes you, and you stand up, brushing off your knees.

"You scared me." You admit as he takes to looking down into the hole you just dug.

"That looks... awful." He chuckles, patting your shoulder. "It won't kill, but it'll slow someone down enough that I can finish the job."

You nod slightly, staring into the dirt as well. You hated the idea that you were crafting something intentionally to bring harm to another person, but realistically you have no choice. "We'll set up more, along the riverbed and closer to the career pack. We can't monitor them all at once, though- can you make more fatal ones next time?" Rafe asks, pointing back towards the river to accentuate his point.

"That depends, how many arrows can you spare?"

The next few days saw the death toll rise to thirty-six. You kept track every night, scratching their numbers and names into the walls of the cave despite being able to remember anyway. You viewed it as a small memorial, Rafe saw it as a timer ticking down to when he'd have to kill you.

Your first trap had worked on one person, their screams of pain from a cut-up leg summoning your teammate back to the apple tree. He insisted you stay behind as he finished what you started. You had to reset several other traps as well, closer to the cornucopia.

Rafe would never admit it, but he was really starting to like you. He didn't want to hurt you- he was worried the traps wouldn't do enough. The passive approach you so preferred wasn't what he expected, and he knew his dad would be disappointed in him. But Ward would never understand.

He sighed as he poked at the fire with a stick, leaning his head back against the rocky wall of the cave, another cold night ahead of you.

You had your head laid on his lap, his thigh replacing the thin material of your coat that you had been using the last few days.

"How old are your sisters?" You ask out of nowhere, prompting him to look down at you. He had thought you fell asleep a while ago.

"Why does it matter?" Rafe replies, and you just shrug a little bit.

"Gives us something to talk about."

"Fifteen and Eleven." He relents.

"Hey, me too." You smile a little to yourself.

"You have sisters?" Rafe asks. He never asked much about you- he didn't really want to know, in the case he had to kill you.

"Yep. And a brother." You nod, sitting up a little bit. "He's older though, he aged out last year."

Rafe finds himself clenching his jaw. He can't hear that- to see you as a little sister. He doesn't want to imagine what it would be like to see his sisters face the same fate. "Lucky guy." He says quietly.

"Why? I thought it was a privilege, and all that." You chuckle.

"Well, yeah, but not for most. For the outlying districts like you."

"At least you get it." You agree. "How does it feel? Now that you're here, I mean."

"Scary." Rafe admits, throwing caution to the wind now with what his father will think. "Not what everyone tells you it'll be like."

"Is that because of me?" You ask after a few moments, and he nods slightly.

"Not in a bad way, though. It's just different. I expected to be on my own, to die alone, or kill my allies if I had to. Now... I don't know that I have to. Or if I even could." He can practically hear his father shouting at their large screen at home, or storming out claiming he was an embarrassment. He was told his whole life to never show weakness, to 'be a man', but now, at the end, that doesn't matter to him.

"I won't take it personally." You giggle softly, voice shaking as you try to make light of it. "My family won't either, I don't think. Maybe my dad, at first, but eventually he'll understand. They'll forgive you." You try and ease his mind, knowing that in the case that Rafe does win without you, he'll have to face your family in the next month or so during the victory tour.

"I wouldn't ever expect him to." Rafe tells you, tossing his stick into the flames now. He feels sick hearing you talk about it like it's inevitable- but if he has anything to do with it, you'll be coming home with him.

"They're good people." You assure him.

"Don't say that." Rafe chuckles, shaking his head. "I would never forgive myself."

"Okay, fine. They're awful. Just... the worst." You smile, looking up at him and resting your chin in your hand.

"That's better. Thank you." Rafe laughs, poking your forehead and gazing out onto the river as the flames illuminate the water.

In the morning, you're awoken to something brushing your leg. You groan and roll over, head landing once more on Rafe's extended arm underneath you. At least he was finally getting some sleep, pretty much unable to close his eyes since you set foot in the arena. You feel the brush again, followed by something moving on your arm, several things, suddenly, and your eyes fly open and look down when you remember where you are. You let out a scream, scrambling to sit up and pushing yourself back against the wall.

Rafe wakes up quickly, scrambling for the bow next to him when he realizes it won't be any help. You're surrounded by and quickly almost covered in a sickening combination of snakes and spiders.

You're still screaming, trying to shove the creatures off of you. "Come on- come on!" Rafe is yelling at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the exit. You don't get the chance to grab your back and you regret that as you're jumping into the river in attempt to get the spiders off of your skin and out of your clothes.

You're breathing heavily as you come up for air, and Rafe is quickly there, brushing his hands over your hair to make sure every last spider is gone. He looks back at the entrance of the cave, chest heaving like yours as the bugs and snakes spill out of it. It sends a shiver down his spine- he was never a fan of snakes.

"I guess that's the gamemakers telling us enough was enough." He sighs, gently pulling you towards the shore again a safe distance away. "Are you bit?" He asks once you're a safe distance away.

"I don't think so..." You reply, hiking up the ankles of your pants to look at your calves and over your bare arms as you sit on the shore. "You?"

Rafe shakes his head, doing the same. "It was probably just a warning. We have to move." He quickly lowers his pant leg over the puncture wounds in his leg, hoping you didn't see. If it gets worse, he'll tell you. The bite itself didn't hurt much, so if it's going to be fatal, he's glad he won't have to hurt you.

Rafe helps you up, leading you up towards the tree line. "They probably want to push us in toward the other tributes, I think we should go with it before they throw something worse at us." You, the two of you now left with nothing but what you had on you, along with Rafe's bow and a few spare arrows.

He nods. "It's our best move anyways. How many tributes are left?"

"Twelve including us." You answer quickly. "There's Avril, a boy from six, Maisie, she's from my district, most of the careers I think are still in it but not their teammates," You begin to rattle off the list,

"I don't want to know names." Rafe cuts you off, and you understand why. He's been doing all the dirty work, and part of you knows it's because he's hoping to have time to learn names and feel guilty about it later. Right now, he can't afford to see them as human.

"Right." You agree. "It doesn't really matter, anyways."

"Do you know scores?" He asks, walking alongside you now.

You nod, beginning to list off all the remaining tributes and their scores, from lowest to highest. The lowest being you- and the highest being ten, shared by Rafe and a boy from district two.

After hearing two more cannons that day, and checking all the traps you had set, you're circling back to the river to be near fresh water before you set up camp again. You don't have your water bottle anymore, or anything to set up any kind of shelter with, you do your best. You set up a fire, Rafe insisting that if it draws other tributes to you so be it- he's ready for this to end just as much as you, but you don't want to rush into your death or an ambush. It's safe to say you won't be sleeping tonight.

You didn't sleep, but at least, curled up under a tree, the night sky was beautiful. The stars seemed realistic, and you wondered if somehow they were real. Between the two more cannons that struck overnight, you still wondered if you were somewhere near the ocean, or somewhere closer to home. While you're sitting next to each other in a peaceful silence, both admiring the vastness of the night sky, you hear a ringing sound coming from above.

Rafe quickly stands, reaching for the small silver pack with a parachute before it hits the ground. He's quick to open it as you stand up, looking into the container. You grab the small card, tilting it into the light of your fire to read it.

For our Y/N,

Keep fighting. Please come home to us.

Love You Always, Dad

Tears form in your eyes almost instantly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. "It's just a water bottle and some kind of granola bars... or something." Rafe says, turning the water bottle over in his hand.

He looks up at you, frowning when he sees how upset you look. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." You quickly shake your head, wiping your eyes. "Uhm, it's from my dad."

The fact that your family could spare enough money to send you something in the games at all was amazing to you. You heard horror stories of the astronomical prices of trying to send something from outside of the capitol, without the status and funds of a sponsor.

"Oh." Rafe replies, handing you the tin and bottle now, taking the card from you gently. He reads it over slowly, and over and over again. His family had seemingly endless amounts of money, and they had sent him nothing. He knew his father viewed it as cheating, and that you shouldn't need any kind of help to win. If he loved him, though, that wouldn't matter. He should be willing to do anything he could to keep his son alive. The way your parents did.

"My mom made these." You sniffle, grabbing a small bar from the container in her hand. "They're my favourite, she only makes them on birthdays or special occasions." You explain.

"That's... that's really nice." Rafe says, putting the card back in the tin. He doesn't know how to handle this, or what to say.

You smile sadly as you sit back down against the tree, placing the tin on your lap as Rafe joins you. "Here." You hold the bar out to him.

"They're for you." Rafe shakes his head, pushing it away.

"They're for us." You insist, holding it out to him again. "They wouldn't have sent two if I wasn't meant to share."

"Thank you." Rafe smiles genuinely, for the first time in weeks as he takes it. He's starving, having eaten only small amounts of meat and plants over the last week or so, so he's quick to take a bite. It's sweet, more so than he expected. He never thought he could enjoy sugar this much.

"No wonder they're reserved for celebrations, hey?" You giggle, having intently watched his reaction.

Rafe nods. "Yeah, it's really good. Super sweet." He says, mouth still full. You grin, satisfied as you take a bite of your own.

The night flew by so quickly, you're feeling as though it must have gotten shorter. The sunrise went by fast too. You're guessing the gamemakers and the viewers were getting antsy. To be honest, you were as well.

Renewed with your energy the sugary baking your parents had sent, you set about gathering food and water, while Rafe goes on to check a few of your traps to see if they needed to be reset. He could do it on his own, but he liked watching you do it, working the ropes between your fingers and tying intricate knots, pulling back on the stick used to trigger the arrow. By the afternoon, having taken a mental note of the amount of cannons that had fired. It was a few, at least. You must be getting down to the end. He prayed it wasn't you, but the cries of some kind of mutts in the distance right before the cannons lead him to believe that you were fine- but he should be getting back soon anyways.

You were wandering down to the water, reluctant to leave your camp, but you knew water was a priority. You were just filling up the new bottle when you heard a scream. It sounded like a boy. You quickly look back over your shoulder, noticing it was nearby. Toward the apple tree. You stand slowly, looking around as you attach the water bottle back to your side with a carabiner, reaching instead for the knife Rafe had left with you. God, you hoped it wasn't him. The absence of a cannon gives you hope, though.

You quietly head in that direction, watching your step so your presence isn't detected. When you get closer to the tree, you hear crying. Painful crying, as you're faced with the reality of the trap you set.

You watch from behind a tree as the boy from eight tries to pull his leg up from the ground, screaming out again as the sharp sticks dig into his flesh. You should go get Rafe- you feel guilty, but you can't kill him yourself. You turn quickly, and before you can get a step away you're face to face with one of the other careers- a sword held up against your neck.

"Don't move." Blake says, a smile that can only be described as evil spreading over his lips.

You try and scream out for help, hoping Rafe was still in earshot but a hand is quickly covering your mouth. "Not yet." He whispers, shaking his head. "We've got a plan, it'll be fun. You wouldn't want to ruin that, right?"

As Rafe gets back to your small camp, he expects to see you there waiting. He scans the trees above him, wondering if you had climbed up for some reason. He calls your name when he doesn't see you, brow furrowed. You definitely should be back by now. As he's heading down to the water to look for you, he hears a cannon, which at this point wouldn't bother him- if it wasn't for the scream that followed after. It was you. No doubt in his mind that it was you. With his bow drawn, he's moving quickly towards where he heard your voice, throwing caution to the wind.

You scream again, crying as the tip of the sword is dug into your shoulder, laying down next to the apple tree. You can't help it- but you don't want their trap to work. You don't want Rafe to come, so you bite your tongue until you taste blood, hoping to keep quiet. "It'll only get worse for you if you don't scream, Y/N/N." Blake scolds you, digging in the blade more. "He has to hear you." He adds through gritted teeth.

You hear a twig snap just outside the small clearing, and Blake is quickly turning to look with the sword still pinning you to the ground. "Rafe it's a trap!" You shout, hoping that it's him.

Rafe steps out then, into full view with his bow drawn as he aims at the boy in front of him. When they first met, he knew they would have been good friends if they met anywhere else. "You won't shoot me." Blake chuckles, and Rafe quickly readjusts his grip.

"I will." Rafe says sternly, pulling the string tighter as Blake moves the sword to hover over your chest. Over your heart.

"If you shoot, the last of my energy will go into killing her. I don't think you want that." He shakes his head, smiling smugly.

"I don't care." Rafe says, making your heart clench. You know that you're friends, at the very least. He does care. He's bluffing- you have to believe that.

"If you didn't care you would have shot me already." Blake calls it, and Rafe tenses up, looking down at you only briefly.

"Then what do you want?" Rafe spits.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted you to watch." Blake shrugs. "Just makes it a little more fun, you know? But don't worry, you'll be next." You know he just wants to prove himself, somehow, not having scored as high as Rafe did. You wonder if his family was somehow similar- that he needed some kind of approval that he thought he might find through sadism.

Rafe looks down at you again, and you just nod, tears streaming down your temples to your ears. He quickly readjusts before letting the arrow fly, planting straight in the shoulder that held the sword as you quickly roll over, slicing across your chest and shoulder in the process. It was well worth it.

Rafe fires another arrow into his chest, not taking any risks and the cannon quickly follows as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" He's asking, hands hovering above you as he's kneeled next to you, unsure what to do.

You nod, still biting into your tongue as blood continues to slide down your skin, dampening your now torn up clothes.

"It's not that bad." Rafe says, looking over the cuts as best he can, but you wince when he pulls the fabric away. "You're gonna be fine, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah..." You mumble, letting your head fall back against the brush below you. Rafe is quick to take his coat off, using it to push down on the deepest part of the wound on your shoulder, trying with his other hand to apply pressure to the rest of it. You try and focus on your breathing, rather than the pain, but it's hard when a significant amount of weight is being applied to your shoulder and chest.

"I'm sorry, I have to." Rafe tells you, jaw tense as he lifts his coat to check whether or not the bleeding has slowed. You didn't even realize you were crying.

After a few minutes, he's lessened the pressure a bit, still holding the fabric firmly over your skin. "You could have ran." You mumble, voice hardly above a whisper.

"I wasn't gonna leave you." Rafe shakes his head, gently peeling away his now blood soaked windbreaker.

"You at least shouldn't have saved me. Not much point in that, is there?" You smile softly, trying to sit up and Rafe is quick to help.

"There is. You have to win." He mutters.

"I'm not winning, Rafe." You smile sadly at him. "Infection will kill me if you won't, and if no one else does first."

"No, they'll fix you up. This cut will be gone in a week, the technology they have is-"

"Rafe." You grab his attention again and he looks up to meet your eyes. They seemed to suck in all the light of the sunset above the two of you, reflecting back at him in a way that makes his breath hitch. The thought is cut short, however, when you say something that breaks his heart. "Don't give me hope like that."

"Why? You're gonna go home. I mean it." He promises. "I'll make sure of it."

"I don't think we have enough." You remind him sadly, a small smile still evident on your lips as you reach up to cup his cheek in your palm. "I never expected to go home. I'm okay with that."

Your friend shakes his head softly. "That doesn't matter. You have your family to get home to, I read that note from your dad. They need you, I can see that. For me, these games are all I was raised for. I have nothing left for me after this." He admits, avoiding eye contact with you.  "I could never forgive myself if I didn't get you home."

Tears are forming in your eyes again as you look up at him. The world is watching, and in this moment of vulnerability you feel that more than ever- despite the quiet sounds around you being only the rushing water in the nearby river and the birds chirping around you. "You're a good person, Rafe." You smile at him, watching as he gently raises his hand to yours, grabbing it in his own. "I hope you know that."

In this moment, you settle on the idea that you would die for him. You never understood last years tributes, honestly, how they were willing to die for each other instead of getting home to their own loved ones, but now you do. Completely.

Without a second thought, you find yourself leaning closer, Rafe doing the same as he kneels next to you in the dark. Your eyes meet once more, lips only an inch from touching when you hear a howl in the distance, and you snap your head to the direction it came from. "The Mutts... Already?" You say, scrambling to get up and ignoring the pain in your shoulder.

"I- I heard them earlier, they sound far away." Rafe says, trying to calm you.

"You heard them? You didn't tell me?" You ask, frantically grabbing his bow from the ground and handing it to him as he goes to pull the discarded arrows out of Blake's body.

"I didn't think it mattered!" He defends, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

"There were four left last year when they sent them out. I think... yeah I think that's right. There's four of us. We have to run." You say in a panic, pulling on his hand. "Our best bet is making it back to the cornucopia."

"It'll be too open- can't we climb a tree or something?" Rafe says, following after you as you're running through the bush now in the direction of the open field.

"I don't know if that will work, but I know we'll be safe there." You explain like it's obvious. "We have to risk it- and if you can get to the others first, if they have the same idea, we'll be at ten."

You're out of breath already, adrenaline pushing you through as you hear scattered barking getting steadily closer after one more cannon. Part of you wants to stop, turn, and force Rafe to take the win if you couldn't have it, but with any hope left, you have to try and get back to where this started. The traps was an unfortunate choice in how you got your kills, because you couldn't keep track of how many since by the time you got around to checking them, the body's would have been airlifted off if it wasn't a misfire. If you had to guess, though, you were sitting at eight.

Rafe is running similar calculations in his head as he lets you lead him by memory straight to the field, mind short-circuiting as he sees the silver moonlight reflect off the cornucopia.

You sprint across the open field, blood pouring from your undressed wound again with the intense exertion of energy. Rafe doesn't pass you, though, despite you expecting that he would. You have tunnel vision as you make it to the metal structure, practically slamming into it before you can even stop. Rafe is quick to lift you and shove you up, both of you looking over your shoulders as you struggle to hold onto the edge, kicking the sides to hold yourself up.

You finally get up, reaching down to help pull Rafe up. He grabs onto your arm for leverage, mostly pulling himself up and you wince as you feel the tension from his weight in your cuts.

You flop down onto your back on the cold surface as he climbs over you, immediately standing up with bow drawn as he intently scans the surrounding area. He's only got the two arrows left, which makes him nervous if that's all he has to defend the both of you with.

You try to settle your breathing, which only lasts for a moment until the sky lights up with the recap. You miss your cave, where you could contribute to your memorial, especially seeing the face of Maisie flash above you on the sky while the anthem plays.

You close your eyes, just listening to the music now until you hear barking just outside of where Rafe can see, and you're quickly sitting up. He draws the bow tighter, aiming in the direction the howls came from just as someone pushes out into the clearing. Rafe is aimed straight at them, bow string pressed to his cheek. He's getting dizzy, and quickly. His aim can't fail him now, he doesn't have that option.

You watch them, in the dark you think it's the other boy from district one, and in your exhaustion you can't remember his name. You wouldn't dare say it, anyways. He's screaming for help, a call you know you can't answer, and you watch as they stumble on their feet, shoes and hands digging into the ground as they try to get up, just ten or so yards from you by now.

Rafe wants to shoot just then, it would be as simple as letting his finger loose and the arrow would fly towards its target. It would be a merciful end for the boy he's trained with for years now, only a couple years younger than him. The muscle in his jaw is aching from the tension he's put on it when he forces himself to let go. He has to do it, for himself, if he wants to go home.

He misses. The yelp of one of the mutts tells you it landed in a paw or back, and you look up at Rafe who's already drawn his second. "Rafe!" You cry out, pushing yourself up onto your feet and standing behind him now.

He hates to admit that your empathy has rubbed off on him. Watching you every night carving seemingly endless names and numbers into the rocks that lined the space you stepped in. He recalls waking up one morning and seeing your name and his carved in as well, closer to where he laid by the fire, his underlined and yours with a heart at the end. Like a signature on the top of a math test. He had wondered if you always wrote your name like that, and in this moment as he releases the bow again, he knows he has to find out for himself.

It happened so fast, the mutts knocking down the boy and the arrow flying from Rafe's shaky hands into where he should have been right as the cannon sounds. You don't know that it was Rafe's arrow that did him in.

"No..." You mumble, clamouring forward and onto your knees again to look over as the boys body is torn apart by the mutts. "You had to have done it. You had to." You say, trying to get a better view.

In a second, Rafe's arms are around you and he's pulling you back from the edge, sitting now behind you with his arms wrapped tightly over your body. "It's okay.. it's over." He mumbles, kissing the side of your head as the sunlight comes over the trees. He's fighting off the urge to vomit, everything spinning around him now.

You sit with him, gripping onto his arms and crying. Nothing is happening, so you must not have made it to ten. You feel sick- your heart is in your throat and suddenly you're really hot, moving away from him to look over the edge again, this time incase you have to throw up. You freeze, looking over to where the boy's body once was. The second arrow was in the ground. He missed again.

Rafe sees it at the same time as you. He sighs, hanging his legs over the edge. "Shit... Y/N, I'm sorry." He mumbles, gently reaching over to rub your back.

"No, no. It's okay." You insist, sitting up next to him. "I knew this would happen."

"I'll get you home." Rafe says, sliding down the side of the cornucopia before you can stop him. He stumbles the landing, swaying in his walk as he heads towards the arrow lodged into the dirt.

"Wait! Wait, wait, Rafe!" You're sliding down after him, running to his side and grabbing his arm before he can get to the arrow in the ground.

He turns to you quickly, hand on your cheek and he's pressing his lips to your forehead. "Sit with me?" He asks, knees already giving out as he falls to the ground.

You're instantly on the ground beside him, practically holding his head up with your free hand as you search him visually for some kind of injury.  "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Uh, I guess so." Rafe mutters. "Snake bite. I think."

"You didn't tell me? I could have fixed this, I could have helped..." You ramble on, his eyes dropping shut now. "Hey, eyes open."

"It's okay. Just sit with me..." He says again, smiling weakly. "Wait with me... please?"

You nod, sniffling as you fight back the tears that want to fall. "Yeah, of course. I'll stay."

Before he closes his eyes, the music starts again and your eyes are drawn up to the sky after you notice Rafe is looking first.

Then, begins a similar slideshow of faces you recognize. Ten in total. Rafe's eyes flicker with slight recollection, remembering any kills he made himself and you gasp when you see Jack. Whatever damage you had done when he tackled you on the first day must have killed him. "Rafe.." You mumble, lowering your eyes to meet his. "I think we won."

Your point is accentuated by the voice of the head gamemaker over some unseen speakers. "Introducing the Victors of the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games!"

"We did it." Rafe laughs weakly, squeezing your hand.

You fully ignore the aircraft hovering down in front of you on the grass, turning your head to look down at him. You don't say anything, neither of you do, and you finally feel your lips against his. The kiss is bad, it doesn't really work when both of you are stuck smiling ear to ear, but you don't care one bit. The only thing that matters is that you got this chance at all.

Rafe pulls away from you slowly, using all the strength he has left to lift himself onto his feet as you steady him. "He needs help!" You shout to them, and you're quickly being lead onto the plane.

"They've got really good technology," You mock what he said to you just the day before. "It'll be like it never happened in a week, okay?" You chuckle, feeling waves of happiness, worry, and relief all at once as you quickly wipe away a tear with your free hand, other arm wrapped tightly around Rafe's waist to hold him up.

He laughs, and you lean into him more, your forehead against his shoulder as the aircraft door slides shut behind you.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy @dee127

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Elks Version 2.0

My fanfiction writing journey began in February of this year. Prior to that, I had never written anything akin to fanfic or fiction for my own enjoyment. On March 19 I was finally able to shush the anxiety and second-guessing of stepping into the world of sharing my words. Thanks to @ohheypedrito’s steadfast enthusiasm along with @justagalwhowrites’ kind words and guidance I hit post on Golden Walkway. Since then I've shared over 100,000 words and had the support of countless kind souls. Some of those kind souls have looked through my writing and marked it up making me better at the craft. With all of this newly acquired knowledge, I look back on some of my earlier works and really see the holes that needed to be filled by more practice. If I'm being honest, that's why it's been so hard for me to continue on my first multi-chapter fic; the ugly voice inside my head wants me to just call it quits and give up because the writing doesn't match the caliber I hold myself to. I can't allow that to happen. So, with all of that being said, I have made the decision to go back and re-edit my first multi-chapter fic Elks. Soft Jackson Joel meets a shy, artsy girl who loves music and has somewhat of a smart mouth and wooow they fall for each other? Shocking, I know. This story means a lot to me, and is definitely me coping with what just might rear its ugly head during season two. That's what I love about fanfic, we can choose any new adventure for our blorbo.

My plan is starting next week, on the 9th, I will repost the edited *first* chapter of Elks, along with a small ficlet from Joel's perspective, moodboard, and playlist for each selected chapter. Each week you can expect the same thing, until I catch up to the unpublished chapters my Google Docs hold. I've never done anything like this before and I'd really love to have y'all participate if you'd like. One of the best parts of this whole journey has been meeting so many new friends and sharing in the fun of the PPCU. I hope you'll join me. Comment, reblog, send me a DM, stick a post-it note to my back, and I'll add you to the taglist. You can participate as little or as much as you'd like, so much of this is just me thanking scared-to-post past Mallory for stepping foot on this new journey that has turned into a fun and fulfilling hobby. As always, thanks for reading. 💕

[arcane-vagabond]

Hey there...

You got a second? Come chat with me.

After talking with a couple of other creators on here and seeing the reaction to a couple of my other posts, I thought it might be a good idea to chat about engagement and what that means, specifically here on Tumblr.

Engagement is the life blood of fandom. It is what keeps people enthusiastic, happy, and, well....engaged! I think there have been some misconceptions about what exactly it is content creators (fanfic writers, moodboard makers, gif makers, fan art makers, etc.) mean when they say they want meaningful engagement.

Meaningful is the operative word here. Yes, likes and reblogs do count as engagement with your favorite creators, but do they count as meaningful?

Imagine with me for a second that you are competing in a sporting event....lets say track and field. You've been preparing for this event for a while now, putting your all into it so that you can do your best. The time comes and your event goes really well!! Afterwards, you go to mingle with the crowds, your friends, your families, except...no one says a word to you. Sure, they give you thumbs up and applause, but nothing else.

You're starting to feel a little self conscious now. You thought you did really well, but no one is saying anything? So you ask them how they thought you did. Several of them just smile at you and nod their heads, giving you another thumbs up, and one of your friends even says "you did good!"

"Well, what did you all think about...?" You ask. Again, no one says anything. You look over and several other teammates are having the same thing happen to them. One or two have people gushing about their performance, and it's well deserved! They worked really hard, and they did amazing in their event! But you did too...right? You're not so sure now, and now you're starting to second guess yourself. Should you even be doing this at all? People gave you thumbs up and applause, but....

A few weeks later, you're not as engaged with track and field anymore. In fact, you've all but quit at this point, running in your free time, but you're not doing it competitively for others to see. You still enjoy the act, but you don't want to subject others to seeing you do it if they don't want to. One day, a friend comes up to you and says "You were so good at track and field! Why did you stop??"

"I didn't think anyone liked seeing me do it, so I stopped," you explain. Your friend looks at you confused.

"We all did?" They say. "We gave you thumbs up and applause. Why would you think we didn't like your events?"

"Because you never said you did. You never put forth the effort to tell me, so how was I supposed to know?" You reply.

Now, given reactions to other posts like this, I'm sure some of you are going to call me condescending or patronizing. I'm not trying to be. I'm trying to show you all why meaningful engagement is so vital to fandom experiences. Your favorite creators WILL stop creating if you don't talk to them about their work. They'll keep doing what they love, but eventually they will stop sharing it with you. You'll never know how your favorite fic ends. You'll never see your favorite characters in that style exactly again. You'll get fewer and fewer gifs.

Likes are okay, and reblogs are important for getting more eyes on your favorite things, but talking to your writers and engaging with them in the different events, their content, or fun things they try to do for you all is so important.

I joked, but the whole "ten likes and five comments for the next update" used to be a very real thing in fandom spaces. Your favorite content creators do not want to be on here constantly begging you all to talk to them. We are human beings who want to speak with other human beings, we don't want to be treated like mindless content machines for you all. Days of work go in to what we create, and a single sentence of "I really liked when X character said this! I can't wait to see what they'll do when Y happens!" on a fic takes you ten seconds. And I guarantee that the author will absolutely bombard you with their excitement to talk about their story. You're never bothering someone when you talk about their work. They share it because they WANT to talk to you about it.

Don't want to show your face? That's totally fine! That's what the anonymous feature is ACTUALLY for. Show love through anonymous messages if you don't want people to know it's you!

Show your favorite creators some more love. It's so easy.

[atlantis-just-drowned]

Im urging for Duke content soo if its okay, can i request Duke x gen! Reader on what they do on a daily basis in nevermore? Thank you!!

A/N: Hi Anon thank you for your patience! I'm extremely bad at acronyms and shit but I've been told gen is the same as gn so like gender neutral, or it means generic, so I'm going to go with that and if you meant something else then, have an extra hour in the ball pit I guess.

Duke x gn!reader general headcanons

Please reblog to show support! Likes don't boost posts on Tumblr :(

Masterlist

Troubles.

Lots of troubles.

You probably skip classes any occasion you get just to hang out together

Mainly I think Duke would love to explore the Academy with you

He'll point out every weird or unusual detail about the place just to make you laugh

Please laugh at his jokes he'll be delighted if you do

Mfer grins so wide it practically split his face in two every time you find one of his jokes funny I swear

If you do not already speak French, you'll probably learn a few words over time

Duke likes to hide around corners just to spook you

He loves to show you his magic tricks too

Any chance he gets, he's making you pick cards, watch coins disappear and so on

But he'll never teach you

I'm not kidding, when I say never I do mean never

Duke is too proud of your reactions to ever risk making you lose this magical spark in your eyes every time he performs just for you

He would rather die than to explain the trick

Even if you beg him for it

Also, calmness is never an option

Even if you just want to search for a book and lay down for a bit

He'll end up disorganizing the shelves and poking at you the second he starts to get bored

I mean come on there's far funnier things to do around here don't you think?

You will never be free as long as he's anywhere close to you

Unfortunately you're also one of his favorite humans which means he's almost constantly close to you

He doesn't like leaving you alone because he genuinely thinks you'll get bored without him

When you're together with the rest of the Misfits

Duke's practically always by your side

Except when he's trying to get everyone's attention

But outside from those moments you can be sure he'll always match your pace just to be by your side

I like to think that once he's familiarized with you, he learns to read your body language pretty fast

He knows what you look like when you're lost in your thoughts, when you've got a new idea, and when somethings weights you down

And whenever he sees you like this, he always asks what's on your mind

If it's a dumb plan to cause troubles he'll absolutely follows you

I'm honestly pretty sure it happens almost every single day you spend together at the Academy

You guys are probably famous (and feared) for your pranks among the other students

He's delighted every time you actively participate in his deeds what can I say this man's love language is tomfooleries

Duke also can't resist you if you ask him to pick you up/carry you/give you a piggyback ride

He'll groan and pretend to be annoyed about it (he really isn't that much) but he'll comply anyway because he just can't refuse when it's coming from you

He will tease you about it tho

To be honest teasing you probably also is one of his main activities

You can never escape his teases and flirts I swear

But the second someone else than him tries to tease or mock you he's shooting them death stares

Man is the only one authorized to (playfully) make fun of you

If he makes you uncomfortable with one of his jokes he'll immediately feels guilty and mutter an apology before changing the subject

[drarry-week]

Got questions? We've got answers! Not sure where you are or how you got here? Check out the about page!

When's the event being held?

Event dates are January 5 - 11, 2025. Can't make it in time? That's ok! Late posts will be reblogged from the DrarryWeek2025 tag until January 31, 2025. Can't make the late posts deadline? That's fine too! If you @ this account, your post will be reblogged no matter what. Life happens, we understand.

How do I post my work?

Posting your work on Tumblr with the DrarryWeek2025 will guarantee your work will be reblogged onto this account. Please follow the tagging system in the about page to ensure ease of reblogging.

Will there be an Ao3 collection?

Yes, there will be. It will be linked here once its made.

Is NSFW content allowed?

Yup! However, it must be tagged appropriately and all NSFW content must be below a "read more" button. To see the proper tagging system, please check out the about page. There are no explicitly NSFW prompts, but feel free to take any prompts in any direction you wish.

Can I participate if I didn't fill out the interest check?/Is the interest check mandatory?

The interest check is not mandatory, but appreciated. The interest check is only there to see if the week is worth running and getting people's opinions on prompts and posting dates. The interest check is now closed, but we appreciate all who submitted responses!

How much do I have to participate?

As much or as little as you want! There are no word counts or restrictions. 10k full chapter fic? Love it! 100 word oneshot? Love it! Fully rendered art? Love it! Doodle in the margins of your notebook? You'll never guess. LOVE IT! All we ask is that anyone who filled out the interest check with a "Yes, I will participate" please post for at least one day.

Are late posts accepted?

Yes, late posts will be reblogged. The DrarryWeek2025 tag will be monitored until January 31, 2025. After that? Just @ us and we'll reblog it, no matter how late. Life happens, we understand.

Have another question?

The ask box is always open. If you asked a question in the interest check form, we may not be able to answer it without your info. The ask box is the best way we'll see it!

Not convinced? Check out the about page! Convinced? We cant wait to see your creations!

[front-facing-pokemon]

I want to apologise for bombing your notifications with eevee reblogs

Though eevee does very much deserve it :3

i turned off notifications loooong, long ago on this blog. so they all got grouped together on one line when scrolling through the activity pane! but yes, eevee absolutely deserves it

hello, everyone! it's time for my basically-bi-monthly-at-this-point round of asks! i said i'd get better about answering these more often, but. well! here we are. maybe i'll do it this time! here we go:

for the most part, the models resource! there are a few other associated websites like this one, such as the spriters resource and the sounds resource, which are all incredibly good for all of your random-game-resource needs!

iii'm not sure entirely what you mean! for a lot of them, i do prefer to have the angles close-up and taking up the whole frame (as i just find this funnier), and it does depend on the angle in question. for the record, angles are voted upon in the front-facing pokémon discord server, meaning if you join there, you'll get to see multiple more angles for any given pokémon (and you don't have to say anything—or even vote, technically!). however, if what you're looking for is more head-on angles (as i've been told these were good for art references in the past), then you can reference the first round of the pokédex on this blog, which you can find by just searching any given pokémon's name! (e.g., searching the #rayquaza tag on the blog should give you a result you may be looking for, although looking at that angle now [and toucannon as well] i can see how these in particular may not be very helpful for art references) given the state of the original rayquaza and toucannon posts, i'll see what i can do right here:

toucannon, unfortunately, just genuinely does look like that from the front, no matter how much i zoom it out:

so here's a 45º-ish angle:

hopefully these serve your needs!

a concept i've talked about many times before! perhaps you need to read my tags more often! in short, i took up shiny hunting in scarlet/violet earlier this year, and in my efforts shiny hunting, i found that the game didn't like me very much, and would often spawn shinies for Literally Everything Except The Pokémon I Was Hunting. my flygon hunt was an especially notorious one, creating that clip that i believe i posted where i ended up with two shiny exeggutor spawning on the same screen while i was in the midst of shiny hunting the trapinch line. quite awful! i've come to call these shinies that spawn while i am hunting any other pokémon "evil shinies," as it's happened to me enough times to have a name of its own. i have maaany video clips of this very same thing happening to me multiple times, but lucky for me eventually i got all the shinies i wanted and just. stopped shiny hunting. now it's just something i do on rare occasions to pass time

this is… an interesting perspective! i guess looking at its older 2d sprites and its official art, the way that it's posed could… suggest this if you never really looked at it close enough. like that one post where the artist thought blaziken had big baby eyes because of the sprite. it's interesting how many different interpretations can arise due to the medium of pixel art!

sorry! that was a little issue with rearranging the queue– wait mamoswine is a retrofi—

oh! yeah, it was! that's… the only reason you didn't see it after piloswine, surely… no other reason…

anyway! that's all for now. my inbox is still lying to me about the number of asks in it, in case you were wondering..!

[asksoldieron]

SO-31: And We're Back!

If there's a lot of engagement on this, this post is liable to get real long, beware before you expand.

No art, but I am working on it and I will add it retroactively. I hope.

Welcome to the Engagement Lounge, for April Fool (260|31) an instalment! Short comments can go in the replies, but there's a 475 character limit. Longer ones will need a reblog. Remember to @asksoldieron if you're reblogging someone else's reblog, so I can see it too!

Okay! WordPress's latest updates have given me the power to do simple things I should've been able to do years ago without a plugin - for example, freezing the backgrounds. I HAD TO REFORMAT EVERYTHING due to missing style options FINALLY being available in the templates. I may have broken some stuff trying to fix it, let me know.

And we're doing the fascism now, I guess? IRL? I mean, I'm not, but I'm definitely hearing a lot of voices ready to slide into denial or be oppressed. Like, because that's the rules. Just hand the obvious shrieking fascist all the toys and shake his hand, because anything else would be bad for democracy. I honestly did not expect that to be the story. Like, from Biden and the establishment, OK. They never believed democracy as really in danger in the first place. But I'm also seeing it from the media and individuals who are left-of-centre, politically. That shit's fucked.

I'm not certain how to amplify my assertion that the shit is fucked, and my fictionalized methods for coping with it, but the sporadic nature of the updates needs to stop. You're not gonna remember what's going on and you're gonna miss stuff!

I may need another break when this six is done, just so I can get a head start on everything I've been putting off and stop taking all these breaks. I am working on a new way of illustrating, but my eyes are also improving. I was told I'd have a year's recovery at most. I appear to still be recovering. My blurry vision isn't as bad as that sheet I rendered a few months back, I can compare. I have started driving again - short distances, no highways yet. I want to draw, but I'm not sure if I should wait and see if my eyes improve enough to give me more options, or how long I would be waiting in that case. (I definitely need to collage less. The Public Domain is infested with AI images and I can't always tell them on sight anymore. I'm not even going to be able to avoid AI by cutting up magazines like I used to, or by buying stock images. WTF?)

But, in the meantime, you get a text-based six pack! And David's back! Yaaay?

Well, I like him. Everyone in the story is more ambivalent. It is April 1st, in-universe, so maybe they'll forgive him his little prank. That's him pretending to be Erik as soon as he spins around in the chair the second time - his language is a little more sloppy than the real Erik, he can't help making fun of the kid, but it's subtle.

I will eventually get you the three versions of David's backstory, all of which have elements of the "true" one. Erik knows what really happened already - it's pretty bad. David prefers his illusions.

Did I break the screenwriting rules and have the good guys fail to save the cat? Well, you'll have to wait a while to see. I thought they'd be home by now, but there's a whole world out there to explore. It took way more words to do it any justice.

[joelwindows7]

Cardiac Extract

Pixiv 78405 (it.)

Nerplex blocked me, here's the bean. Reblogs of blogger who nerplex didn't block

What did I do wrong? Telling you to sauce URL offends you?

Man, I'm gonna be canceled here. I guess this shall be the time we act now. Love you all, gamers, who still with me of course.

Wait!

It, gamers, if you're here, pls don't angry just yet. Actually, the story is funny. Uhh a blogger, nerplex yes, said your name and others, but without sauce URL. Plus that person blocked me and of course no reason given.

Look, I'm trying to save your clout... I mean make you popular! Idk what's the say here, point is, I want to be the good example of how to credit properly, when I am really lazy. Well very easy! As possible, attribute sauce URL! That's it at least.

Again, above picture's not mine, there's your sauce who drew this. You're welcome. You must act too, don't stay there! Spread that sauce to other friends!! I beg you. Artists deserves respect, and thefts (same reuploader but did not sauce URL) deserves.. You got the idea.

Here, my subsidiary are making changes, and they're in the process of spilling the bean. Actually this subsidiary was the outlying connector to one my division, Archive Division. Not to be confused with Archive.org, that's different story.

So from now on, if you see your art reuploaded here (even it's still live on the sauce), pls don't cancel me, I beg you. Look I promise I attach the sauce URL of it. even my own art, all has URLs to source SVG, Blend, etc. We are the company of Sauce, we want gamers to know where did you downloaded this file.

Okay, to disrespectful gamers. You. You block me, you left no choice. I wanted to reblog and that's it. I never wanted to talk to you, unless you asked for it, or whatever neverary. I just commented your post, And tried my best to not offend you in assumption of universal ethic settings as far as I know. If you had it here, we'll it's your fault. I wanted to reblog but [tumblr] says it's gone, and you're not deactivated. Peck you. I can't fathom why did you do that, when you could've only & exclusively block scam spam bots instead. Want to me stop? Just unblock me, and the trouble is over. That's all I want.

I don't know and I cannot know why I'm blocked coz that happens to be the social media common ethics (that's really flawed). So want it or not, blocking, ................ means provocation. Right?.. I.. Won't see why!! HUH?! If I was making social media, I make sure they tell the reason why. Oh, this account is scammer, so I may a look at it to confirm. Oh, I just hate this guy, and I can take a look at it and then... No, not ban. Maybe send that person to class idk. This is just concept, more need to design.

Ok back to you again. Yeah. I'm sorry. I lost all my sanity. Everyday, the world.. derails my mental condition, through this. Idk if they got hacked.. or just.. hate me?

yeah. idk anymore. what do you think?

Huh, Yeah?

isn't queen gambit method may cause trouble to yourself?

.. Who said I'm gonna often post that [tumblr] url here? Well.. perhaps I don't have to, instead. Scroll down. Ctrl + F keyword of "block". You'll see. Okay you may not see it now. Soon. and more soon.

.

That's all for today. I'm sorry if there is mistake or whatever wrong here. Got comment, let us know, idk.

Edit:

Being resolved

Update soon

Edit 2:

Failed

Pls do not bad against

[dovelydraws]

Are the characters you draw from a really intricate dnd campaign?? I‘ve never played so I‘m only guessing based off the lingo

Either way, what would the best way be to get to know the characters? And their story? Is it ‚only‘ whats written in the pinned post or is there more?

YOU'VE ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD....

In short, YES the characters I'm always drawing are from a tabletop game!! We're playing pathfinder, which is very similar to dnd but, in my opinion, has much better mechanics and customization (and it's also open source and not owned by wizards of the coast, which is a pleasant bonus lol)!

There's plenty more than what's in my pinned post, that's mostly just an introduction to our characters so anyone who's curious can have a baseline idea of what's going on. We've had 8 more sessions past the recap point that @jinbugs wrote, and a lot has happened! Perhaps we should update that...

We tag everything we post regarding our characters or the game with #vivere campaign (iirc that came from the phrase "memento vivere," the opposite and other side of memento mori), so if you search through our blogs you'll be able to see everything we've posted! Although, we're also all keeping secrets from each other, so we can't reblog everything from each other. Posts that the others aren't allowed to know about are tagged with #campaign spoilers.

Revun belongs to me, so you'll find most things about them on my blog. Kwan belongs to @jinbugs, Polites belongs to @mossy-garden, and Ferra belongs to @artpepkin.

Our GM @eternalglitch reblogs from all four of us, so if you wanna find everything in one place, I'd search down the tag on their blog!

That all being said, I would ADORE if anyone wanted to send me asks about Revun!! I've been hyperfixated on this character since like February of last year, so she's all I want to talk about all the time sdlkjfljk

Perhaps I should make a big summary post about their whole backstory. But the last time I tried to summarize it still ended up being 3k words long... 😅

[flavorcountry]

The next Instant Band Night is IMMINENT

Are you in the San Francisco Bay? Maybe? Do you know anyone who lives there? Probably?? Wanna just reblog this and help out???

You can probably guess what happens there, but here's how it goes:

The stage has a drum kit, guitar, bass, keyboard, and mics

We draw names out of hats to make instant bands that get 5 minutes in the green room to plan a 5-minute set. That's usually one (1) song

A hat-drawn artist will draw the band's gig poster on a meeting room easel pad while they play

The first rule of Instant Band Night is: 👏 YOU 👏 DON'T 👏 HAVE 👏 TO 👏 PLAY 👏 AN 👏 INSTRUMENT 👏 TO 👏 ATTEND 👏

Every show needs an audience! You can be part of it!

The second rule of Instant Band Night is: We guarantee you (the audience) an astonishingly excellent time

You'll see something you've never seen before every 5 minutes, it's gonna be great

The third rule of Instant Band Night is: Bring a friend or three!

May 9 2024 ALL DETAILS HERE (INCLUDES A VERY GOOD FAQ)

Come play or watch!!!

I've Blazed posts about the previous Instant Band Nights and a few people actually showed up who were either from Tumblr directly or got sent by friends who were, so I'm just going to keep doing it

If you want to hear about future Instant Band Nights, you can add yourself to the email list here!

[spyroforlife]

not gonna reblog the actual post I saw because I don't feel like derailing and I will always just give people room to be haters on their own blogs, I understand the venting, I do. But it's always so funny to me when I see posts like "just let this ace/aro character be ace/aro you weird fuckin shippers!!"

because like

babes

they still are

they literally are whatever they are in canon. That is always gonna be the same. The representation is not being taken away from you in any way whatsoever because other fans are doing what fans do and making silly lil shipping drawings and fics, because they just personally find shipping fun and will do it to literally whoever they find interesting and want to imagine in situationships

The creator of your fav ace blorbo is not gonna go on Tumblr.com and look in the fandom tags and see a drawing of them making out with another character and go "hmm you know what. I dig that more actually. So asexuality retconned, he's gonna fuck (character) on screen now <3"

That doesn't happen. Can seeing the ship art be off-putting if you can't see the character being like that? Of course! Yes! Not denying it! But like. They're not changing anything about the character in canon. It's not some kind of problem in fandom that needs to be fixed. Shipping just happens, pretty sure it's a goddamn rule of the Internet.

But I promise you, there is still gonna be a variety of fans who would MUCH RATHER actually focus on that asexuality and/or aromanticism and discuss that, and portray it in their works. You can follow those people specifically, and join in their discussions! And who knows, it might get more people talking about it, so you'll see more of what you actually wanna see with the character.

It's just like. Idk. I get complaining but I just start feeling itchy as soon as it takes a turn into any sort of "so other people SHOULDN'T do x/y/z with blorbo actually" because okay hit the brakes, fandom is just for fun, it's a hobby, shipping is just playing around in imagination land and who cares if people do dumb or impossible things. You can dislike it, you can want to avoid it, but trying to tell other people what they can and can't do with fictional characters??

idk man. just rubs me the wrong way I guess. And in the end I'm just ALSO bitching about a fandom thing on my own blog and this ultimately doesn't matter too much to me because I DO have a job and fandom is just a hobby for me.

But I guess I just really don't see people shipping aroace characters as a big deal, because let's be real shipping has ALWAYS been about ignoring canon sexualities, this is nothing new. People will literally just smash together whoever they find hottest, or the most fascinating, or the most fucked up, or whatever tickles their fancy. And what's happening in some weird lil corner of fandom just isn't gonna have any impact on what actually happens with the canon character relationships, and it was never about that anyway, so. who cares and let people have fun. I promise when you go back to whatever media your blorbo is from, they're still gonna be their cool asexual/aromantic selves, because canon isn't fanon

signed, an asexual who gets amusement from dumb ships because I know I personally would never do this stuff but it's fun living it through random fictional characters <3

[wenellyb]

Hello, I know you’re new to the fandom so I just want to tell you you two things:

1. You can be mad a Ryan for what he said but believing he only apologised for keeping the job is just projecting. Oliver was mad too and not only him but more members and he didn’t speak to Ryan in years, they’re friends now, that means that Ryan is human and he has learnt, because we all made mistake and we all have to unlearn and educate ourselves.

Also, and please I love Tommy, but it’s also fun seeing how a lot of people (who hates Ryan/Eddie and Buddie) defend Tommy when he was racist and misogynistic when we met him. And he didn’t apologise, we just saw him talking with Chim and helping them and assumed that he did. So, if people can forgive a character and defend him saying “he has grown up and he has learnt and he made mistakes because he’s human and Chim and Hen have forgiven him”, we can say the same to a real human who was also forgiven by Oliver, Aisha and other members.

2. As people said, Roben from lone star (I don’t even know if that’s how you write his name) supports the genocide. He’s also problematic in different ways, and he hasn’t apologised, not even once. In fact, he has done the opposite and he hasn’t taken the time to unlearn and educate himself.

I’m not here to make you love Ryan, but we can learn from our mistakes. And maybe, if you can’t see just that, maybe it’s because you’re not ready and that’s why you’re projecting your feelings towards his apology. Anyways, that’s all! Bye!

Hi Anon!!!

Please don't mix 2 things:

- Tommy: fictional person

- Ryan Guzman : Actual real person

No matter how bad Tommy's actions have been, you can't compare the 2. It's easier for me to believe that a character has grown than a real person even though it happens all the time.

Now that we made that clear, please show me the post of people defending Tommy's past actions, because I'm not saying there aren't any, I'm saying I haven't seen any.

The post I have seen were posts calling out Tommy's past actions but saying he has grown since then , especially he made up with Chimney and Hen, exactly everthing you are saying about Ryan Guzman. You're saying there hasn't been an onscreen apology but with the kid of show 911 is...there are always scenes missing, where we have to guess what happened in between.

And again no!!! Fictional characters are not the same as real people! I love Anakin Skywalker but would hate him in real life (extreme example I know). Moving past Tommy's actions isn't the same as moving past Ryan's actions.

What you can do is compare Ryan's actions to Lou's actions: two actual people.

And take a look at your fandom, that is calling for forgiveness , education and growth for one, but calling for the other one to get fired??

Can you see why I'm annoyed by the double standards?

Especially since Lou's video was taken out of context.

This isn't against you anon personnally it's more a general statement, but fandoms will select whether or not to be mad based on whether the person involved is their fave or not.

So let me tell you the timeline of what happened and you'll let me know when I "projected my feelings about his apology":

1. I saw an interview where Ryan Guzman was defending the use of the n-word by non-Black people adding the classic "I have Black friends..."

2. I reblogged the interview and tagged it "wtf"

3. I received asks telling me about it and how bad it was, and pointed out the hypocrisy of the fandom because they wanted Lou to get fired for his "teasing" comment about Tommy but didn't want the same for Ryan.

4. I pointed out that the apology didn't feel genuine because instead of apologizing right away he, at first, doubled down on what he said.

Mind you, I never told anyone to get mad at Ryan, or ask for him to get fired, I was just pointing out the double standards.

I appreciate yoy sending this, and again, as I said this isn't "against" you I'm just taking the opportunity to share how I see this whole thing.

I'm of course new to this fandom, but I'm not new to fandoms in general, and this is the Sebastian Stan take a knee instagram post all over again. I know how it goes, I'm not surprised by the influx of messages about growth and forgiveness etc... But when those scandales involve people who are not your faves they get feral...

[lostheretics]

PLOT TWIST (4)

▸ chapter 4; the art of learning and overthinking

pt. 1 || pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4

✵ cast : jung wooyoung x fem!reader, kim hongjoong, lee juyeon, kim younghoon, ateez, mentioned oc and many kpop artists name or group

✵ genre : romance, marriage life, eventual angst, smut, mafia!au, non idol!au

✵ summary : there was a saying that learning is a lifelong process. what will you learn about the underworld, the first time you stepped into it? you might have what they call a beginner's luck, but will that be enough for the things you'll be facing soon?

✵ notes : 8k-ish. wow. thanks for waiting, to those whoever awaits i guess. i was thinking of making a taglist for this fic. taglist will be used for updates; ANY updates regarding PT. just drop ur @ in my askbox (here). also, PLS REBLOG.

WARNINGS BELOW CUT.

☒ warnings: smut... like a wholeass breeding kink i laid it all there, once more. marriage talk, maybe a swear word(s) here and there, do remind me if i missed anything

☒ i do not condone mafia acts nor any acts that goes against the law at all. everything mentioned are just purely fiction, made to entertain myself and fellow readers in this particular platforms.

☒ do not repost this on any other platform without my permission!

✓ reblogging, liking, and commenting this post in tumblr (through comment or askbox) are very much appreciated.

"what's happening?"

"i think they're fighting."

"over what?"

"dunno."

"guys, why are you standing like that?"

"like what?"

"like clearly, fucking eavesdropping. who—"

"—ssshh! they're at it again. can you hear what he said to her?"

"not a single word."

seven men stood in front of hongjoong's office with their ears flat against the door, hoping they could get a hint of anything that happened inside. however nothing was heard, no clear words exchanged between you and hongjoong got out of the door, courtesy of his soundproof room. that was besides from hongjoong's screams alongside your own. your two voices went against each other, each time getting louder and louder.

hongjoong was livid upon your actions before.

yet you stood your ground still. 

"—we just had this opportunity, y/n, and the one time, the one fucking time i trusted you to stand under the light, you fucking threw everything that we worked hard for away just like that!" he screamed, clearly driven by anger upon your actions back at the lee mansion. to the lee juyeon.

"i threw no one and nothing! i did what i was supposed to do, i was trying to save ateez!" you screamed back defending yourself.

to your words he almost laughed maniacally. ”save ateez? by putting us in jeopardy?”

closing your eyes, you sighed. the atmosphere was tense between you and hongjoong, and it was not something that you imagined would happen in the first months of officially being a part of ateez. as a part of ateez, of course it was your goal to make ateez better and powerful. yet hongjoong couldn’t seem to see it from your point of view.

exasperatedly, you sighed. ”have some trust in me. am i not a part of ateez?"

"precisely.” 

he pressed, before continuing. “because you're a part of ateez, y/n, that's precisely why you should be more careful! anything that's gonna happen to you, gonna happen to us and it's all on you. you risk not only your life or mine, but our brothers. your husband. our allies. everyone that worked under and with us, can't you see it?"

"did i not secure our place in the gala? on my first night introduced to the underworld?"

hongjoong was immediately silenced. on that note, you were right. you secured ateez’ place in the gala.

on a special note, that is.

“hongjoong?”

turning to juyeon, hongjoong stuttered his words out, “mr. lee, please forgive y/n’s boldness, she only worked in the shadow before a-and never ha-“

“make sure you all come to my gala. the whole week, i expect you all to be there. i’ll introduce you to some of my friends.” juyeon cut his words. looking back, hongjoong caught juyeon’s eyes wandering to the corner where he just had his conversations with you, but to no avail when he didn’t caught you in his line of sight.

juyeon drew a small smile which surprised hongjoong, before looking back to him, “she’s intriguing. i should have more time to know her, and i insist it.” he then straightened his hand out for hongjoong to take,

“i should hope to see ateez more in the future.”

“what did you two talk about?”

it was a question, but you know hongjoong would demand an answer from you.

a shadow brought into the light, and not even in one night, was able to reach a place even hongjoong has never reached before. a higher league. anyone in their right mind would question it the way hongjoong did. 

“what did he say to you?” you countered.

“don’t answer a question with another, and i asked first.” 

with the staring contest the both of you were having and hongjoong’s stubborness, you know you wouldn’t win against your captain. 

you sighed, “i just said something about admiring his father’s work, that he was a winner, then he just said i fascinate him and made sure i came to the gala. that’s all, i promise.” you explained.

“joong, i don’t know what else to say but i just wish you could see that i’m on your side. i want ateez to win, the way you want it. nothing else.”

silence took over as hongjoong’s thoughts done the same to his head. 

"okay." he sighed after a few moments. "but i'm warning you, y/n. no more bold moves that i don't know of. behave." he pressed. he moved towards his table and sat down. 

"you're dismissed."

and so you left the room.

it takes time. 

it takes time, was the sentence you say to yourself repeatedly on daily basis. ever since you got tangled with ateez, married to one of its member. ever since you knew hongjoong and worked your hardest for his trust. that it would take time for hongjoong to fully trust you. 

your intentions haven't faded still. 

midnight strikes. the kitchen was cold and empty. sitting on the island, the bourbon in your hand had melted the ice as you hold it, just staring at it blankly. you chugged it in one go and filled your cup once again. a sigh slipped through your lips unconsciously. 

were you too much? 

the events that happened the last weeks played in your mind, as you go through it one by one, moment by moment, correcting yourself in your mind. 

the first time hongjoong unofficially accepted you into ateez. 

babel. 

lee juyeon and the conversation you had. 

it most definitely was the unexpected outcome, how you crossed the boundary, how, weirdly enough, he was intrigued by you instead of angered by your statements. how you secured ateez's place in the gala all because of he insisted you'd be there. based on that thoughts alone, you couldn't help but wonder what will happen at the gala soon. 

and that man in the garden, with his piercing brown eyes. 

strikingly handsome man. 

it was quite an embarrassing scene, yet all through it he only showed his concerns. even after he picked you up and moved you to a quiet hall. even after you just said a quick thank you and hurriedly ran away from him, not wanting to cause another scene any further. 

you didn't get to know his name. 

not that you needed it, it was just for formality. he saved you, after all. 

raising your cup, you sipped your bourbon again. you were just reaching the bottle to pour another, when wooyoung's voice halted you. "how many have you had?" 

turning your head, you saw him standing near the arch with a disapproving look on his face. 

"five... this would've been the sixth," you answered truthfully, chuckling to ease the air. 

"you know i hate it when you drink. i don't want you to bring back that awful drinking habit of yours." he scowled. "i don't want you to get sick, baby. you know that, right?"

by bad habit, he might be referring to your habit of drinking those poisons like water. you'd drink when you're happy. when you're sad. when you got problems. for lunch, for dinner. any time you could drink you'd drink, and it had became a part of your life so much that you didn't think much of it. though you always stay sober instead of drunk. 

and wooyoung hated it so much he cut off all access to alcohol after the first few months of becoming your boyfriend. it was a weird feeling, the withdrawal you had. yet you weren't being fussy about it, only coming back to alcohol on certain occasion like parties, dinner, and now, just casually thinking of life on a slightly deeper level. 

you smiled, "you're worried. i understand." you put down your cup on the sink, and put away the bottle back on its rack. you sat back on the chair as wooyoung walked towards you. he positioned himself between your thighs. your hands instinctively circled his neck, as he caressed your thighs softly. a peck landed on your chin. 

"a penny for your thoughts?"

the dreading question left his lips. the one question which has no definite answer, at least for the night. too much thing going around in your head with little to no way to explain it. you shook your head, only answering to him with that smile from before. 

"was it hongjoong hyung? what did you guys talk about? he seemed mad." he urged still. 

"you asked as if it was bad and you were ready to land a punch on him."

"that's because i might."

chuckling, you circled your hands tightly around him, assuring him. "i'm okay. we're okay. he's just concerned and he voiced it all so well. as he's supposed to do, as our captain." you assured him, adding a peck on his cheek to secure your statement. "don't worry, woo. it was just about the gala."

"you sure?"

"yeah."

"then there's no reason for you to stay up late anymore..." he pulled on your waist, "come to bed then? i hate sleeping without you." he whined. 

he offered you his hand, which you took happily. hand in hand the both of you walked towards your room, ending the night. safely tucked underneath the warm blanket, protected by the arms of none other than your lovely husband.

there were papers scattered around the wooden table, the computer screen was on but untouched, and a half cup of coffee that turned cold by then. 

messy table, messy head they say. 

yet it was far from how juyeon looked standing by his windowsill. his shirt were still unchanged from last morning, but still fits him well with no crinkles. his tie was loose, with his sleeves rolled up. the clock on his table was the only reminder the day had changed and the sun will soon be up, yet there he was still. 

lacking sleep and deep in his thoughts. 

a knock arrived on his office door yet he didn't bother to look up, only doing so when his butler called his name. 

"sir juyeon," he called. 

breaking his train of thoughts, juyeon looked to the elderly man standing near his desk. "ah, park jipsa*." 

"sir, the sun is almost up and you haven't had any sleep. you're not doing any of your job either. you're risking your health, sir." the elderly butler reminded him, which juyeon only replied with a chuckle. 

"you sound like you actually care about me." he mused with a chuckle, not forgetting to give him a side look. 

"that's because it's my job, sir. to make sure the lee family line goes on. it's always been a park's job to make sure of it, since years ago and for years to come," he countered back, face straight yet his eyes still hold a hard look in them. 

"not to mention it was your father's dying wish for me to keep you safe." 

ah, the lee minhyuk. dearest father. melancholy hit him, juyeon gazed to the purplish orange sky sitting outside his window. the sun was starting to show itself, welcoming itself to the morning. 

"never thought i'd be here without him." juyeon murmured to himself. 

"he loved you so much he designed everything through and through, just for you to be here," 

that old man had served the lee family since the time of juyeon's grandfather's reign. he had served lee jiyoung until her downfall, served lee minhyuk until his death, and finally lee juyeon himself. for those years, nothing about the man ever changed. 

his tongue still sharp as ever,

and his loyalty remained strong as ever. 

nothing but truth came out of his mouth. lee minhyuk was one of the fiercest man to ever live; despite his ways of usurping and his infamous act in backstabbing his own family. the world might remember him as a hero, as a villain, but to juyeon he was simply a loving father. loving enough to fulfill juyeon's need as a child even after his mother's death. 

to put everything in, he simply missed his father.

juyeon blinked a tear away, sighing before he brought back himself to reality. "you got the thing i asked for?"

"yes sir." park jipsa took out a folder and moved forward, handing it to juyeon. juyeon took it from him, opening the folder himself and screened through its pages. 

"jung y/n was an orphan. her lineage is unknown at all, our investigator asked around the orphanage and said she was just dropped there and have been there since she was a baby. the orphanage had a funding program which enabled people to fund for the children there, if they wish to help but not to adopt. that funding helped jung y/n to go to school and after that, she got a scholarship to pursue further education abroad,” the butler explained, before adding, "not much is found about her life there. after that she just went back here and took small jobs. she met ateez and jung wooyoung, courtesy of the dirty job her boss had with ateez. the rest are history, they got married and here they were."

juyeon hummed. "nothing else?"

"nothing else. nothing related to you nor the mafia world,” he answered. "may i ask who she is to you, sir? for you to look about her this way."

"that's what i'm trying to find out too, park jipsa." he grinned, closing the folder. "i just found her, and she's... enticing. i can't quite put it in words yet. like i've known her before. but alas, we haven't. but i’ll make sure we do.”

"ah, and that thing i requested?" juyeon asked once again.

his butler nodded, "it's almost ready and will be sent first thing after it's done."

juyeon let out a satisfied hum. standing up, he stretched a bit before retreating from his office. 

"i'll be resting the whole day. don't bother cleaning up my desk. i'll be available for work tomorrow." he announced as he walked out. 

the butler nodded and bowed. 

"as you wish, sir."

the lee family gala week only started a few days after chuseok. with a few days off, ateez decided that they'd visit a family for the holiday. that family happened to be wooyoung's only remaining relative; his father who lived around the rural area of the town.

it's not like the rest of the members didn't have a family. however, wooyoung's father was the only elderly figure that aligned with ateez, as in being in underworld. he was a part of a small gang who understood a little of the underworld, only stopping when he had wooyoung. some said he sort of trained wooyoung to get into the underworld. the rest of ateez's relative aren't much involved; hence the bond was better with wooyoung's father. 

jung ilwoo, but he was more famous as just mr. jung. 

the air in the countryside sure was different from the one in the city. along the fresh air  the smell of barbecued beef filled your nose. the members were preparing for dinner behind you, going back and forth. 

"food's almost ready!" seonghwa shouted, and people quickly gathered around, finishing their tasks faster. 

"guys, where's wooyoung?" you asked when you couldn't found him within the crowd. 

"try the kitchen. he was in charge of making songpyeon." one of them quipped. 

answering a quick okay, you walked into the house. you called upon your husband by his name, which he loudly answered back, telling you of his whereabouts. 

there you found him, sitting in the kitchen comfortably, skillfully molding the colorful songpyeons by hand. 

"woo, come on, dinner's almost ready," 

"hold on," he didn't even spare you a glance, "i'm trying to make the songpyeons as pretty as possible." he remarked while proudly showing you one of the songpyeons he made. 

you tsked him. "they're gonna end up ruined in our stomach anyways."

your nonchalantness had him scowling. "it's holidays, we deserve something pretty. and they say if you can make pretty songpyeons, you'll make pretty babies." he insisted. 

"you seemed to be interested in babies a lot these days." you noted, with a lighthearted chuckle. 

but it didn't set a reaction you expected out of wooyoung. rather than giving you another witty remarks or anything light to the moment like he always did, he stopped a while, stunned, before lowering his head, consumed by deep thoughts in his head. that chuckle and smile on your face was quickly wiped out as you reach for him. 

"woo?" you called, nudging him by his shoulders lightly with your fingers. 

he raised his hand, grazing your fingers before taking it in his own palm. he took a moment of silence while holding your hand, tracing every marks in there. 

"i've been thinking about making a family of our own. it's been a while," he blurted out. 

"i know. san told me," your other hand went up to his cheek, caressing him softly. "why haven't you told me this face to face?" you asked him. 

"i dropped hints. like a lot." he jokingly said. "but i guess anyone would take it as a joke as usual—"

"you're not a joke, never."

"—point is i was just afraid, i guess." he finished nervously. 

"of what?"

"that maybe you don't want kids. that maybe we'd be bad parents, or worse, if i wasn't good enough to become a dad, considering my... line of work. and many more reason." he explained, eyes still looking down at his own feet. 

there's only one jung wooyoung. 

however the times you've spent with each other had made you both realize that there are many things you don't know about each other. like how hard it was for wooyoung to voice out his thoughts, preferring acts than words. as a capo he was more used to receiving commands, listening, doing things and getting them done, despite being able to have thoughts of his own and proving it more than once. having lived with it longer than he was with you, it became something that stays with him. he might be mouthy and loud when he was clingy or showing his affections to you and others, but not when it comes to himself.

i’m okay, it’s nothing much. those were the words that most likely would came out of his mouth. all those times when he came home bruised all over his body, or even bleeding. when he could barely move without wincing in every step he took, clearly in pain. when he came out of hongjoong’s office with his head down, always the same answer.

it took you hours, even days to extract it out of him. and you’d never forget to appreciate him when he finally came clean about his problems. 

“woo, look at me.” you spoke softly, pulling up his chin softly to stare into his eyes. “i’m your wife, you’re my husband. remember? we made a vow.” which he nodded. 

“i understand that you might need time to speak up, but i don’t want us to keep anything from each other. especially things regarding our marriage, our family.” you explained. 

“and about that,” you quipped, “i’m not opposed to it. but i want us to be more ready instead of just being reckless.”

upon your words, a hopeful smile appeared on his face, his eyes turned crescent along with it. “really?” he asked, making sure which you answer with a nod. “does that mean we can start trying and preparing?”

you feigned a gasp, “i thought you’ve been trying since forever?” 

you both laughed to it. the moment was soon broken by a shout from outside, loudly calling for dinner. "c'mon, let's not make others wait."

hollers welcomed you when you and wooyoung walked out of the house, joining the rest on the veranda for dinner. 

“i hope you didn’t taint the kitchen. your dad cooks and eat there, y’know.” yeosang teased, eliciting laughs from others. 

“how about i taint your ears, shithead?” wooyoung taunted back menacingly, “i’ll gladly move next to your room, if that’s what you want.” he ended. the smile quickly wiped out of yeosang’s face as it turned pale with the imagination of restless nights caused by your nightly acts next to his room. and with wooyoung's stamina? it'd be miracle to have a 3 hours quiet time. 

after all, that's why you both got your own quarters, far from others' in the mansion. 

“i’d rather have my ears stabbed then.” he deadpanned.  

dinner started, along with chatters shared between the boys and wooyoung's father. though the old man preferred to answer shortly, being a quiet person he was. 

you didn't talk much with him, with how he answered so shortly. yet you still care for him, constantly reminding wooyoung to come home once in a while or bringing things for his father. 

"woo, aren't we gonna make offerings with the songpyeon and everything?" you quipped. dinner was done, you and wooyoung were in charge of washing dishes. 

wooyoung raised his eyebrows and returned a loud, "huh? what offerings?" 

"to your ancestors? it's a part of the holiday too, right?" you asked. 

after thinking for a while, he let out a loud 'ah'. "my dad stopped doing that when i was like... ten? i don't know." he answered nonchalantly. "besides, my dad said my grandpa and grandma passed a long time ago, when he was younger. he kinda decided it's way past the time."

"not even to your mom?"

the question left him stunned for a while. 

"right... she's dead. i don't know a thing about her though."

"i'm sorry, love." you offered an sympathetic smile. "was she bad, did she neglect you or something?"

he shrugged, "i don't know. dad never really talked about her, he was kinda dismissive about it. just said that she died not long after i was born."

he inhaled, then exhaled, seemingly deep in thoughts before speaking again. "but i don't think she's bad at all." he stated. "one time when i came home from school, i think i was around eleven or twelve... he set up an offering table. there were no photos, no name or anything. i asked him who it was for, and he said it was for my mom. he said it was an... important time and she would want to be remembered. so we prayed for her. and i asked one more time about her to my dad."

"what did he say?"

"he just said he believed that my mom would've loved me. it's just that fate didn't really allow us to be together. sounds cliche as fuck and i don't really get it even now. but i decide  to believe that she did love me. it's easier that way too. i never asked much after that."

"so you never know anything about her? at all?" you queried, invested in his back story. 

stopping his movement in wiping the plates, he leaned back and furrowed his brows, deeply thinking. then he answered, 

"dad said my eyes were like hers, and she gave me my name. he also said she was brave and i took after her, just in a reckless way." 

that conversation ended with laughs escaping from both of your mouths. and so did the night. 

midnight passed, and you were sure everyone was fast asleep when you moved to the living room. 

the songpyeons you had spared before were placed neatly on a plate, along with some other offerings like fruits. there were a bowl of rice and a soup. lighting the candles, you sat down in front of the table. 

you've decided to pay a little respect for wooyoung's mother, if he and his father decided not to. 

you thanked mrs. jung for bringing wooyoung to where he is now; as your loved one, while wondering what would she be like if she were still here. what would she see from you, and many things. you prayed that wherever she is now she'll do well, promising you'll do your best to be wooyoung's wife. 

he might be a pain in the ass sometimes but thank you, he's the sweetness everyone needed in this bitter life.

you were just sitting comfortably in the silence when you heard someone clearing their throat just behind you. turning your back, your eyes found mr. jung standing there, just staring at you blankly. 

"abeoji*..." you stuttered like a deer caught in the headlight, quickly standing up. awkwardness filled in, you knew you weren't wrong for doing it, but it feels unfair to do it yourself when wooyoung and his father didn't even do so. despite being in laws with mr. jung, you still feel like a stranger in the household. 

he raised his hand calmly, dismissing the awkwardness. then he smiled at you. he took a closer look to the offering table you made for mrs. jung. 

he then just stared at it longingly. 

not a single word slipped out of your lips when he observed you and your midnight activity. he just sighed again, retreating. 

"you really are something else." he chuckled with his deep voice. 

"i'm sorry if this offended you." you apologized, but he just shook his head. 

"you're doing something nice, how am i offended?" he said, "i trust she'll be at ease... now that you're here."

he then proceeded to speak more. "always a surprise, something else she was. i wish she could've seen wooyoung and how he grew up, what kind of man he will grown into."

"i'm sure she would've been so proud oof wooyoung and you. for raising him to the man he is today. i believe she'd do anything for you if she could." you said soothingly. 

"hmm, it shows." he quipped. “for everything to fall this way, i can see why she chose…“ he stopped himself, staring at you for a while, before moving his eyes to the offering table once more. 

“this.” 

you raised your eyebrows upon the cryptic message, confusion written all over your face. upon seeing your contorted face, instead of further explaining things, the man chose to retreat, offering you a small smile.

“good night, y/n.”

it was a weird encounter with mr. jung. 

however, you remembered wooyoung and hongjoong's words, about how cryptic and confusing the elderly man can be. and you were never in one thought anyway with mr. jung, so you decided to drop the thoughts of that night. 

but surprise, surprise, oh the thoughts you were going to have today. 

"...say what?" you dumbly ask once again. 

your butler sighed, once again offering the fancy box in his hand. "it came just this morning, madam. a gift from lee juyeon for the gala, addressed to mrs. jung y/n." he explained. 

the whole people sat around the table were silent as they watched the scene unfold before them. wooyoung rose to action first, snatching the box from the butler and putting it on the table.

upon opening the box, he was met with a neatly folded fabric of what seemed to be a dress, a set of jewelry, a pair of masks, an invitation and a piece of paper. he took both the invitation and paper, observing the contents. he found the gala theme to be a masquerade party, the lee family invited ateez to be a part of the gala for a week. he then moved his eyes to the other piece of paper, reading it carefully. 

he decided to read it out loud. "dearest mrs. jung, i hope you accept this token of good friendship between us, ateez and lee family. come to the gala and— what the fuck? —and allow me to have a dance with you— what the," he seethed, "what is this royal bastard doing?! sending you these and- and a dance?! hyung didn't you tell him she was married?" he asked, voice going an octave higher. 

"well he did use 'mrs. jung', so he should've known." yeosang quipped, back to eating his breakfast. 

"hongjoong?" you asked him unsurely. he took the paper from wooyoung's hand, reading the content quickly before putting it down. 

"we need this connection." he sighed, but proceed to look up to you, "how about you? are you okay with this? i know this is important and we kinda don't have a choice, but i wanna know how you feel about this. don't do it if you're not comfortable." he made sure, eyes glimmering with hesitation. you just nod, though hesitating, you sure want to give the best. 

"we have no choice." you murmured agreeing with him. 

"uh, excuse me? i'm her husband? shouldn't i be the one saying that?" wooyoung cut in the conversation, still salty and filled with jealousy. 

"ooh, the green monster is showing." one of the boys said, inducing laughter. 

hongjoong just chuckled. "hey, no one is in fault in here. i told him she was married, y/n explained to him that you are, no doubt, her husband." he explained. 

"you do you, woo. watch on your wife, but remember," he pressed on his last word, "business is business. keep it professional. and i see there's a pair of matching masquerade mask in there. i think it speaks a lot." 

standing up, hongjoong clasped his hands together, gathering his voice before announcing, "tonights is the start of the gala week. prepare yourselves, show up all clean, be ready, and be at your best behavior. i expect the best out of all of us. we're leaving at five this evening."

he raised his cup of morning tea, proposing a toast.

"to our glory."

the whole day, wooyoung has been pouting, seething, if not drowning in jealousy over the morning shenanigans. it was bound to happen anyway, with how possessive he could be. not that you're complaining, that side of him could lead to many passionate things to your marriage life. 

passionate arguments, and even more passionate endings, fiery make ups. 

you constantly teased him, drawing even more crinkle on his face leading to you laughing. he was still upset, but it went moderate when you found that juyeon not only included a pair of matching mask, but also a matching tie to your dress for wooyoung's attire, in which wooyoung complained with a ‘tie and a dress? that’s hardly fair.’

in the end, you both had to use the gift well. 

"fuck, that royal bastard has a good taste, too." he murmured, on today's evening while waiting for you on the living room. 

he was trying his best to still look upset, keyword trying. the only thing that made him angry in the first place was the fact some other guy gave you something personal; but can he truly stay mad when you look this good? 

it was a long black dress, his favorite color. a sleeveless dress with a halter style top and a choker neckline. the piece being backless and having an absolutely low cut on the front part did not help at all, only accentuating the curves of your breasts. the only cute thing the dress provided was the frilly tulle skirt. the pair of earrings and bracelet only made you shine brighter, giving you that elegant look. 

and it didn't help you the way wooyoung look with his all black suit and a tie matching to your black dress. his usually messy hair was now tied up. the rolex he got sat nicely on his wrist, giving him that professional look. as if he wasn't ravishing enough to begin with in his usual baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, he had to rub his handsomeness to your face this way. 

"you look absolutely ravishing, wife," he couldn't help but blurt out, eyes still watching you like a hawk watching on its prey. he landed a smooth kiss on the back of your hand. 

"and so are you, husband." you smirked. you boldly reach out, pulling on his neck to land a playful kiss on his lips which he happily returned. 

"please, for the love of god, get a room." 

at this point, none of the boys' complaints got into any of your brains. hand in hand, and still stars trucked, you both got into the designed rolls royce. you thought the sunset looked nice that day, but all wooyoung see was you, all the way to the lee family mansion.

the lee family mansion, to say it was nicely decorated wouldn't do any justice. 

everything was decorated in a golden brown hue, the lights were set in a yellow tone. just from the lobby you could faintly hear a classical music played by orchestra, and you could see some art pieces here and there, the ones that were guarded and, maybe, were lent from museum. 

talking about old money. 

there are some guests chatting just around the corner of the great hall, while the rest busy themselves waltzing around in the middle of the room with their respective partners. 

"tiger in. is everybody in the room?"

hongjoong's voice came through each of your ear pieces. you and wooyoung look at each other before nodding, confirming that you hear the same thing. pressing a button, you each confirmed of your presence. 

"yeon in."

"uno in."

"mars in."

"lion in."

"howl in."

"bear in."

"fox in."

lastly, you spoke, "ocean in."

"remember. behave. dance or talk around, make new allies, and observe. dismissed." hongjoong's voice once again blasted, before a light beep came through, ending the conversation. 

from the corner of your eyes you could faintly see the members starting to scatter around the room, some in pairs, some alone. your arm was still intertwined with wooyoung, as he lead you further into the great hall. 

"i think we have some time for us." wooyoung remarked, stopping in near the dancing crowd. stepping in front of you, he offered his hand. "what do you say? shall we dance?" 

smirking, you accepted his hand. "lead the way, husband."

he hold your hand in his, while his other hand rested on your waist. you put your other hand on his shoulder. he lead you both to the middle of the dancing crowd, feet tapping to the music as he swayed you in his arms. 

wooyoung was undoubtedly a good dancer. he lead you in such a way you were easily swayed and moved, as if your muscles became his to move around. he spin you around, eliciting chuckles from the both of you when your tulle twirled with your movement. once again his hand landed on your waist, pulling you close to his body. 

"you're so beautiful." he whispered. 

"and you're so handsome. how many times more are we going to have this conversation?" you ask amusedly. 

"until i forget how beautiful you are." 

he lowered his eyes, taking your whole attire. the dress, the black with gold stripes mask similar to his adorning your eyes, the soft velvet gloves encasing your hands— you looked stunning. you looked so stunning he couldn't help his hand to go higher, resting it on your bare back, giving it a gentle squeeze. his breath went heavier as he felt your smooth skin under his palm. 

you hissed upon his touch, hot against your skin. "woo—" you warned. 

"i need you," he exhaled, "god, i need you so desperately. you're so beautiful it's driving me insane." he spoke breathily. 

"baby, we're at work." you reminded him of the reality, but it didn't seem to bother him at all as he moved his lips near your ears, his breath ghosted around as he lightly nip your earlobe. 

"it'll be quick, i promise. i'll make it good." his grip on your back went tighter, "please," he begged. 

he moved his head back, staring at your eyes and lips for a second. lust were clear in his eyes, from behind his mask. he dived for your lips, kissing you lightly, though you know he's holding himself back so much as you were both in a middle of a crowd, while at work. the kiss might be light and seemly innocent, but not with the way he bit your lower lip when he pulled back, alluring you with his lustful gaze. 

he pleaded once again. 

in which you could no longer keep your stance, nor your needs, nor your sanity. a whispered yes escaped your lips, and he was fast in pulling you away from the crowd, away from the great hall, practically running to the farthest and quietest bathroom. patience be damned, as thin as ice when he backed you up against each hallway, kissing and groping each other as if there's no tomorrow. 

thank the lees for having such a big bathroom. 

wooyoung basically pushed you inside the room, making your waist hit the cabinet as he locked the room. 

oh, the primal look in his eyes. 

he took of his mask, threw it somewhere across the room. you did the same. he stepped forward, claiming your lips with his once again, this time with no restraint as no one was around. you could hear your breaths racing, the messy smacking of your lips against his, raising heat to your face and your insides. 

"baby," you pulled, trying hard to hold him, "baby we gotta be quick," you reminded him. 

he just nodded. "turn around for me." and you obeyed him, turning around to face the huge mirror in front of you. "watch us baby. don't take your eyes off the mirror." he commanded. 

and you did.

you watched as he stared at you through the mirror, his hands busy in picking up your tulle skirt revealing your black panties. you picked your skirt from his hand, bunching some of the fabric in your hands, putting it aside. 

he slid his hand through your (already soaked) panties, and you involuntarily closed. "eyes open, baby girl." he gripped your jaw. he quickly pulled his zipper, lowering both his underwear and pants just enough to let his dick out. you couldn't see it, the anticipation of it filling you, until you could feel him putting your panties aside, teasing your other lips with his tip before he pushed his dick inside your walls, up to the brim and stilling, catching his breath. 

"stop fluttering around me," he whined feeling your walls massaging his cock nicely. "fuck, so tight."

you were already a moaning mess by the time he slowly moved. 

"faster, woo," you begged already letting the greed take over. his faint smirk was visible through the mirror. 

the snapping movement he created was so good you almost lost balance, but he caught you just in time as he brought his body closer to you, trapping you between the cabinet and himself. he put his hand near your stomach on the cabinet to save you from further unwanted pain, as he laid his head against yours, lips right beside your ears. 

"my good girl, so dirty, so in love with me she'd let me take her in someone else's bathroom, at work," he groaned into your ears. "your moans are so pretty, baby. here i thought the dress was the only pretty thing on you." 

praising or degrading, at this point you have no idea. not with how delicious his cock glided around your velvet walls. not with how his lips playfully glided across the column of neck, giving feathery kisses. 

"y-you're fucking me so good, woo," you moaned out. 

"yeah? always giving the best for my girl, no?" he asked you, and you nod obediently. 

"look at how beautiful you are now, y/n." he gripped your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes open, "other men might give you this dress, and this dress looked so damn good on you, yes,"

so this is what it was about. partly. 

"but only i can make you moan so pretty like this. make your pretty pussy flutter, make your face contort in pleasure prettily when i give you those mind blowing orgasm," he taunted, "only my dick can please you, filling you up with my cum the way you like it."

a loud moan slipped through you agape mouth, amusing wooyoung. "you always loved my cum, don't you? filling you up to the brim. fuck, could get you all round and pregnant. would you like that?" 

"yes, yes, yes!"

"yes what, baby?"

"give me your babies, fill me up, i'll be pregnant for you, fuck!" you cried out, feeling the hot wave on your lower parts, "fuck baby, i'm—" your brain short circuited stopping your words, completely replacing it with louder moans. 

"you're gonna walk around and dance around with my cum inside you. i don't want a bit of it spilled out. want you to remember that you're carrying me inside of you while you talk and move around with other men." he seethed. he slipped his hand under your skirt, easily found your clit and pressed it with his thumb, making fast figure eights on it. 

you desperately turned your face, hand going behind you to pull him by the cheek closer to your face, wanting to kiss him so bad. he captured your lips in a messy kiss, creating strings of saliva as both tongue danced around. he fastened his movement when he felt your pussy fluttering around him and your moans getting messier, which only mean you're close. 

you came with a loud moan, your essence wetting his dick and some dripping down your thighs. wooyoung chased his high, groaning loudly when he stilled, making sure he put his cum deep inside you.

"clench baby. keep it inside." he inquired as he pulled out slowly. he quickly put your panties back, getting some tissue from the cabinet to wipe the rest of your essence on your legs as well from his overly wet dick, before putting it back to its place. 

he zipped himself up before helping you to stand properly, straightening your skirt to put it back to its proper state, then smiled as if you both didn't just sin in someone else's bathroom. you were still dazed and catching your breath. turning around, you circled your hands around his neck, pulling him for a sweet soft kiss for a cherry on top. 

a ringtone blasted from wooyoung's phone, breaking the kiss. 

"shit, it's hongjoong hyung." he cussed, but still pressing the green button, "hello?"

"where the fuck are you? and where's y/n? why aren't you both answering to your receivers?" hongjoong's voice blasted from the speaker so loud wooyoung flinched and had to put his phone away from his ears, trying not to be deaf in such a young age. 

"hyung, chill, we were just stepping out for... a fresh air." he made up while holding back his own laugh. hongjoong might be absolutely mad over this shenanigans, but it's so worth it.

"get back here asap. juyeon's asking for y/n. and i've sent everyone out to look for yo—"

and just then, the door bursted open, revealing jongho and his face, contorting in disgust when he finally realize the scene happening in front of him. 

"in the middle of work? really?" wooyoung could only throw a sheepish smile. he sighed, before answering to his earpiece, "found the two lovebirds. in a damn bathroom so far in the east wing doing god knows what." he almost gagged. 

jongho stepped backwards, "let's go. y/n's wanted."

"never knew bathroom air could be so fresh."  someone quipped through the receiver. 

the crowd in the great hall once again welcomed you. you caught hongjoong and juyeon in the line of your sight, and you knew it was your cue to go. sharing one more quick kiss with wooyoung, you departed for the two men, leaving wooyoung and jongho behind.

you threw juyeon a sweet smile, "evening mr. lee. what a great party you have here."

"and attended by a great person, too. i see you're putting my token of goodwill to good use." he remarked, taking your hand and landing a kiss there. "and i hope this a way to say yes to a dance with me?" 

"it's a yes, sir."

juyeon smiled back, excusing you and himself to hongjoong before leading you to the dance floor. his movement was slightly stiffer than wooyoung's but he proved to still able to lead a dance. never having to stood this close to another man made you feel nervous, obvious to your awkward touch on his shoulder. 

juyeon watched your awkward body language with an amused grin on his face, "lighten up, mrs. jung.  i can promise you it's not my intention to create any problem between our relationship. especially so early like this."

"so you're planning to do it in the future, then?" you teased, in which he replied with a curt smile. 

"i hope not. i'd like to make friends more than foes." 

you followed his lead in the dance, lightening up yourself before juyeon as you both chatted. lee juyeon is as smooth as he is light with his lips, in contrast to his usual hard look and rumored harsh personality. despite you being the one who had to approach him and initiate alliance, he talked more and eased the air around, sometimes even joking around.

after a while, you finally decided to push the topic you've been dreading for the past week. "so what do you think, mr. lee? of my proposal, alliance between us?" you asked, anxiety churning in the pit of your stomach. 

juyeon went quiet upon your sudden intrusion, and you thought maybe you were too fast on confronting the issue. his eyes wandered around the room, trying to escape your gaze, you presumed. however he tightened his grip on you, bringing you closer to him. 

"i actually have considered it, and i think it's a nice proposal, but," he stopped for a while, "i must make sure that this will work, the lees and ateez. so i can't just accept you working under my family just like that," he continued. 

your heart almost dropped, and maybe so did your face behind the mask. 

"however, i have a way to do that." he spoke again, and you quickly raised your head, awaiting his next response. 

"look to your left. your nine o'clock." he commanded. you slightly turned to your left, eyeing the part of the room he mentioned. he then stated, "see the man in black and white suit, a black diamond pin on his necktie and plain black mask?" 

you nodded, confirming that you saw the same man. 

"his name is kim younghoon, from seoul kim family. ever heard of them?"

"yes. another mafia royal family. almost like your family, i think."

"not as mighty as mine, but yes." he asserted.

"what about them?" you questioned. 

juyeon took a deep breath, readying himself as he explained. "the lees and the kims have been an ally for many generations. but unfortunately, after the thing... between my dad and lee jiyoung, it sort of created a gap between us." he added, "most of their families were supporters of my aunt." you nodded. 

"their fields are similar to ateez's biggest industry at the moment. meds, drugs, et cetera. you'd found common ground with them and ateez will grow more. here's where you came in handy." he remarked, "i want you to act as a third party between our families. fix things between us. i'll introduce you to kim younghoon, pass you up for a dance. you'll work with them, and if your work is good, your bond with them will automatically be stronger, however, they won't be able to ignore the fact that i was the one that brought you to them."

"a good work to the kims means a good work for me and my family. a good work with the kims and lees means you have connections to two of the most powerful mafia families. a win-win, a perfect domino effect, don't you think?" he proposed. 

you furrowed your brows. 

truthfully, juyeon was right. it would be like hitting two birds with one stone. the lees are ruler of the south, and the kims held most part of seoul, not to mention the amount of their members that entered the politics and industries.

you’ve heard yeosang mentioning the kims more than twice. how they owned many hospitals, many other companies as well, but putting their drug company as their main family business. the kims are born from a line of doctors, professors of medicinal world, as well as businessmen dan businesswomen. some of them are even took part in the government’s ministry of health office, to maintain free passage for their own business. they don’t take much part in the dirty work within the mafia world, but they were still influential enough within it.

“taking a sweet time, aren’t we?” 

“i’ll take the offer.” you quickly blurted out.

juyeon stared at your face, your eyes, trying to find any faults, any sign of hesitation, as this was considerably a hard job for a rookie no matter how easy it sounded. yet all he was met was a pair piercing eyes staring right back at him. “i won’t pull back. just like what i said before.” 

the music stopped, just after you said your last word. you both bowed at each other, ending the first dance session perfectly. taking his offered hands to you, he led you away from the dance floor right to your awaiting guest. you walked just slightly behind him, letting juyeon take all the lead.

juyeon tapped on the said man’s shoulder when you stepped behind him.

juyeon let out a curt smile when kim younghoon turned around to face him. “kim younghoon,” he greeted shortly.

“juyeon.” younghoon replied just as short with a smile on his face. “nice party.” 

juyeon hummed, “never a boring party with the lees.”

the cold and thick atmosphere between the two were unmistakable, clear to anyone’s eyes who dared to observe. juyeon and his piercing gaze, kim younghoon as his calm demeanor, yet straight eyes and body language, keeping his dominant persona in check. 

when juyeon realized the meaningless chit-chat would lead nowhere, he pulled you forward placing you right beside him. “this is mrs. jung y/n of ateez. i told you about her just before the gala, remember?”

upon the introduction, you quickly bowed at kim younghoon out of courtesy. you wouldn’t dare to stare yet, but you could see him offering you a warm smile and a bow just from the corner of your eyes.

“i do remember.” 

“well, in my opinion you should offer her a dance. she’s a great dancer, from my short yet unforgettable experience,” juyeon had said, pulling you even further for you to stand before kim younghoon. “she follows exceptionally well.” he implied.

“then i should find out by myself.”

he offered juyeon one last bow out of courtesy, which juyeon replied back with one. juyeon stepped back, before turning around and completely disappear from both of your presence to give you a space of your own.

a counting tap was heard, indicating the start of the next dance session. younghoon offered his hand to you, “may i?”

you took his hand in you just when the music started, and he quickly led the dance, bringing you to the middle of the dancefloor between the crowd. 

it started off awkwardly, as you racked your brain, thinking hardly of what to say, of how to start a conversation at all. lifting your gaze, you were met with younghoon’s pair of soft brown eyes, already staring at you.

oh. oh. you felt something tugging in your stomach as your brain remembered and tried to recall the deja vu you just had. those brown eyes. the garden, the sound of your breath hitching.

“you…” your words were stuck, as you were stunned.

the man in the garden, your helper, your savior, was none other than kim younghoon.

younghoon smiled, you could see his eyes curved into a crescent from behind his mask making his brown eyes shine even brighter.

“miss,” he greeted softly. “i finally know your name now, y/n.”

what kind of coincidence was this?

also i almost lost my whole document (fic bits, drafts, etc) bc i stupidly brought my phone to the pool and now it's dead.

* jipsa; butler

* abeoji; father (sorta formal)

ok i think i might start aiming to write >5k for each chapter so WE. CAN. GET. IT. DONE.

also i feel like i'm gonna focus more on younghoon, juyeon, y/n and hongjoong in the next chapter bc i need to start building the plot up.

I HOPE U ENJOY