#it's okay this is just the start of the interview

[maxarchive]

Listen to the full interview here.

Now, just as the championship was starting to get to a really tense point around Austin, there was this big controversy about driving ethics between you and Lando. The drivers had a big conversation with the FIA after that race about the guidelines and it felt in some ways that it was a consequence of what had happened in Austin. How did you feel about that? Did you ever feel like they were singling you out?

You know, honestly, I don't, even if they would have done or did, I, first of all, I don't care because I drive to what I think is possible and what is allowed in the rules. And if the rules are written like that, I will use the rules. I'm just not the type of person that I think, if that would have happened to me the other way around, you know. There is then other people commenting on, other drivers commenting on that were not involved in that whatever incident or whatever you call it. I don't think I would have been the person then to complain so hard because I would just think to myself that, okay, if that's the rules, that's how we do it instead of screaming that we need to change the rules. Because the problem is, if you make less rules and then something happens, then they will start screaming for more rules. Now we have the rules, maybe not perfect, but it will never be perfect. Because if we get to a certain rule set, there will be another incident where someone is not happy about and then they start screaming that the rules are not correct again. It's the same in football. If there's a foul and there are some clear rules about certain things, it's not always that the right decision is made on it, or is it a penalty given or not? Or was it offside or not? That's why you can never, at the end of the day, do it right. Do I think that consistency in the penalties can be better? Yes, for sure. But that only comes with, I think, stewards that are paid, you know, professional stewards. Not that I think that the stewards that we have right now, you know, they're doing their very best to what they have, you know, but I do think that, you know, in a sport like this, like you see in other sports as well, that when you have a paid board of stewards, I think it just works way better.

You said something very interesting there about the rules that you were always driving to the rules. And that's the fundamental point. I think no one said in Austin or thought that you'd done anything against the rules. But there was this particular kind of defense, you know, the kind of race to the apex, trying to be ahead and all the rest of it that people are talking about now. Do you think that just taking a step back from that particular incident, do you feel that that's the right way to go racing? Would you choose to do it that way if those weren't the rules? How would you like to do it?

Like I grew up with go-karting, where it's not about who is ahead of the apex or not. I think every driver is anyway a little bit different. I remember from go-karting as well with some, you just knew that if you went around the outside, you could hang it around the outside. And with some others, you couldn't because they would push you off. And I think you need a little bit more freedom on that. Because when... When it's that clear rule that you need to be ahead or alongside fully to the apex, you will create other issues with that, right?

So would you naturally want to give someone room on the outside on the exit if you were racing?

Well, me personally, I don't race like that.

You don't... What, sorry, what do you mean?

Well, it's like when I... So when I race with someone, I would... Well, he will not be able to overtake me around the outside.

Okay. Why?

Because that's how I grew up racing.

Okay. So you always think it's okay to go to the edge of the track and force someone off?

Yes, but I've raced against other people in go-karting that would give me space. You know, it's like, it's just a driver-related thing, that some drivers are just a bit more passive, you know, in racing. And that's just how they are. And some I know that even in F1 I can't hang it around the outside because they will push me off. It's just, it's like a bit more of like a racing, I would say, instinct.

So I think if you were to play the devil's advocate, how would someone ever overtake you? Because you will always go to the inside to defend.

It depends on the track layout. I think the main problem is that when you have so much tarmac on the outside, you, even if you lock up a little bit, you just run a little bit wide. But on old-school tracks, you normally never really have these kind of issues because it just doesn't happen because people are a little bit more tentative on the brakes. Also, the guy that is trying to overtake knows that if he makes a mistake and locks up, he's in the gravel and his race is done. You know, so that's what I think is the problem is the track layout is letting us do these kind of, like, you then have questions with some moves. Where if you go to, like, Suzuka or even Red Bull Ring in turn four, the downhill right-hander, where sometimes, you know, it's very rare that there is any, like, question mark move that has been done there because if you make a mistake and you brake too late, you go off in the gravel and you're penalized anyway. And I think we have to try and go back to these kind of things that when a driver goes off the track, there's a harsher penalty with just natural, like, track limits.

So you would never give someone in the outside room on the exit of the corner if you were racing?

Well, that's just normally the case, yeah.

Yeah, okay, cool.

And, of course, when the track is naturally the limit with the gravel being there, then no one even want to go around the outside because they know that. So you then try to go for a cutback or, you know, set yourself up in a different way.

[lover-of-mine]

Hi, welcome to Buck just had his oh moment and the color theory of it all.

Usual shoutout to @stagefoureddiediaz because being mind meld with her is what's getting me here lol

First, I'm gonna break my own rule and give too much power to the showrunners, I know I keep saying not to, but hear me out. Buck, Bothered and Bewildered is on Buck's pov, right? That was made clear by the episode and then confirmed in interviews that that was the vision, and well, Tim also said that that scene was from Buck's pov, it's all about Buck's reaction and how he will go crazy about this because he's abandonment issues personified, that is also confirmed with the way we don't see what Eddie is doing until he tells Buck, we are learning things at the same time as Buck is.

Okay, well, why am I going back to 704? Well, Buck's fear of losing Eddie (I don't care what Buck says, he wanted Eddie's attention) made him go completely batshit crazy last time. But it also triggered something really important: Buck's bisexuality. And they just repeated that trigger, but this time with Buck choosing to walk in.

They repeated the bt first kiss structure but with Buck making the choices that create that change. The bt kiss, Buck is working on some bills, Tommy shows up, Buck is spiraling because of Eddie, Tommy kisses him, Buck has the bisexual realization. The 808 scene, Eddie is working on the houses, Buck shows up, he's spiraling about Tommy, Eddie reveals something, and Buck is snapped into the realization. Important thing to notice is that Buck still doesn't fully understand the depth of what his relationship with Tommy showed him about himself, so Buck still might not understand the impact of what his abandonment issues just told him while he was sitting on Eddie's couch. And it's all on Buck's pov.

But Anna, you said color theory.

I'm getting there. Because, well, the bt kiss is blue and red.

Same as 808. So we are evoking the same feeling, especially because of Buck's short sleeves and the buttons (and not a white shirt under this like he had all season lol)

And thinking about the blue and yellow coding Buck's bi arc, he worked his way to lighter blues. He starts with the navy blue colors until that lighter teal tone from the coming out scene.

It's also interesting that in the scenes that are about Eddie in a sense, when he's talking to Maddie and he got it right about it being about Eddie, and the coming out scene being about their friendship, are lighter colors along with Buck matching his background. We don't have the yellow elements but we have that cohesion on the frame composition. (I guess the 606 hoodie also counts since blue and green theory but I don't want to make another image now).

If you're new here, the theory is that Buck worked his way to his blue from darker colors, his blue being the color he is wearing during the coming out scene (and Eddie will find his yellow, but we are not talking about Eddie).

We are back in the darker blue but the composition of the scene is lighter. Buck is literally in front of the light as he is talking to Eddie in the kitchen, and it's the middle of the day.

He matches the background, the couch, the Texas frame, the lighting is also a lot colder than it usually is in Eddie's house. And it's also very important that he is on the couch, because yay couch theory.

But Anna how does any of this prove anything?

Well, Buck is working his way back to his blue while in the darker colors, because while he got the bisexuality part right, Tommy wasn't the right person, and he's finally back in the light, we don't have the dimmed light and the obstruction of his face created by the shadow, dare I saw Buck is finally starting to see things clearer.

But why am I so sure? The shirt he was wearing today?

Same color but in a darker shade than his blue.

Buck is back on the discovery feeling that comes with the darker blue but this time he's in the correct hue, he just needs to get to the right shade, and he just figured something out.

Abandonment issues personified just had his oh moment about Eddie at the thought of losing him permanently, sitting on Eddie's couch while wearing his blue.

Other things to notice, Buck knocked but walked in before Eddie could get to the door, he used his key and the knocking was just to let Eddie know he was there, Buck is the one who suggests moving to the couch and the couch ties it back to the couch theory and the 601 dinner, dare I say that even Buck offering to bake for Eddie and the cooking aspect of it all, and the idea that the couch is home and home is a person and for Buck that's Eddie.

Something else is the way that we finally see someone eating whatever it is Buck is stress baking. Madney don't eat at the loft and the chief interrupts them at the firehouse. Eddie on the other hand is DIGGING into those. And food in 911, in media in general, is about connection, and is very pointedly about love here, and the whole stress baking is great because the kitchen is Buck's safe space, he cooks for people he loves, we see that from when Maddie comes back, to the pointed way he gets take out for his parents in 610, to the lasagna, making chilly with Bobby, cooking for the house on 709 and getting Bobby's approval. And the fact that we are getting Eddie eating what Buck's nervous state is creating while allowing Buck to just go through his kitchen to make more because he is not about to not accept every part of Buck Buck offers him is important.

The fact that Eddie isn't objecting to Buck rummaging around his kitchen is also important in the way the show uses Eddie's house in a meta way, kinda like the way the show uses the loft to match Buck's spirits in a sense, how the kitchen is his heart and for family, how the living room ends up being for guests and it's made pointed about the couch his mother bought "for his guests", Eddie's kitchen and the whole way it's the space Eddie allows himself to be vulnerable but there's the thing of honesty, the core of who Eddie is is tied to the kitchen, and the fact that he's just letting Buck move around like it's his kitchen ads a lot. Buck is the only person who walked into the house through the back door, Buck has a key, Buck has been in every room (except the bathroom but I think they are saving that for buddie canon), that's home for him too and Eddie never thinks to question and Buck never thinks to doubt it ("this is Eddie's house, I'm not really a guest").

Anyway, Buck oh moment real. Buddie 8b real. Color theory got me so high I'm wondering this is what doing hard drugs feels like. I think this is all I have to say. I might come back, who knows? I don't.

If you read this I love you.

taglist (interact with this post if you wanna get tagged)

@sparkedblaze @caw-salem @dreamofsomepiphany @100ceruleaneyes @linus-lucy @chaosqueery @gina-spike @chimchiminie98 @elvensorceress @singitforthegirls @dangerpronebuddie @182daysof @steadfastsaturnsrings @sparklespiff @inell @miles--to--go @jesuisici33 @wolfdeans @lunarsolar1 @joshwritesfics @glasscities @kejfeblintz @stagefoureddiediaz @mosaicstardust @eddiedisasterdiaz @hermioneindisguise @queerprincesseddiediaz @lookforanewangle @becausebuckley @lemotmo @thenainitaldisaster @epiaphany @trudayss @shelfthe-reader @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @buckgettingstruck @scoupsahoy @the-whispers-of-death @iced-coffee-jesus @izzysbeans @starkytower @thegeekcompanion @sunflower-eddiediaz @bucks-daddy-issues

@dingdongfries @angelcamael

[wonsroyalty]

predictable, 박종성

pairing/warnings - 2.3k,, spider-man!jay x f!reader, college/uni students, switch!jay x switch!f reader,, smut, blood, wounding 🔥

a/n: no fancy theme because i’m writing this on a whim: inspired by this tiktok i saw earlier, no doubt mv has actually changed me and i loveeeeee jay so enjoy🤗

masterlist

You sat in your bedroom tapping your pen unconsciously at your desk.

“I need the report in for tomorrow, Yn. You’ve already had a week.”… You remembered the head of the school newsletter scolding you earlier.

How on earth did she think that you could gain access to the football team in order to ask them about their frat lifestyle AND write up everything from your seven-hour interview as a small section in such a short amount of time.

You thought back to your best friend Jay.

He’d always had a way with words and you knew that if he were with you he’d say something like, “Sunghoon said he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because he literally threw himself at you during this interview, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame loser who doesn’t get any hoes because I fucked around and found out’, done!”

A giggle slipped from your lips at the thought of imaginary Jay but you quickly gained composure because the thought of having to pull an all nighter, in order to finish, didn’t seem appealing.

And the fact that Jay had turned down your plan of him helping you because he claimed he had “important business” whipped you into shape.

Ding!

7 messages from mother🐻

hey pumpkin!

i may be later than usual tonight

just been told to prep for emergency surgery

left your dinner in the oven to heat up

first aid kit above the front cabinet

don’t hurt yourself pls!!!

love you bye 🥰

You reacted with a heart and wished her luck then threw your phone onto your bed.

The upper half of your body slumped onto the desk.

“I’m so screwed.” you whispered in defeat.

Your phone then began to ring causing a loud groan to leave your throat as your body lugged itself to the source.

“Hey Jay, what’s up?” you sighed. “What do you want?”

“Open your window.” he panted out.

You could hear sirens in the background and Jay didn’t sound too good.

“Whats happening right now? Are you okay?”

“Open the window, please.” he begged. “Trust me, just open it!”

“I don’t trust you.” You joked. “Besides which one would I open, there’s three.”

Jay started shouting at someone on the other end of the line.

“Fuck!” he groaned in agony. “The- the one facing central park.”

“Uh.. okay. I just did it.”

“Step back! Like backkkk.” he warned.

“Moving back as I speak.” you sighed. “Is this the super important thing you had to do?”

You had spoken too soon.

A man precisely shot his body through the gap of your window then slammed it shut behind him and slumped onto the ground.

“Spider-man?! What the..” you stepped towards him tentatively. “Are you- wait Jay! Oh my, I think he’s hurt.”

You began to type out a message to the boy when Spider-man ripped his mask off.

“Jay Park?! You have got to be shitting me!” you gaped. “What the fuck?!”

Jay winced in pain as he shot a web at your jumper to pull you down towards him.

He’d pulled you off balance and while your legs straddled his hips, your hands fell onto the gaping wound in his abdomen.

“Stay down.” he whined. “Can’t let them see.”

“Them..?” you mouthed.

“I was in the middle of a fight.” he rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“We’re gonna talk about this later, I need to close that up.” you glared at him.

His head hit the wall behind him as he began to register the state he was in.

You crawled out of the room and ran over to the cabinet that your mother left the first aid in. Nimble fingers turning the oven and a timer on your way out so that Jay would have something to eat before he left.

If any other friend of yours were in this situation, you would’ve patched them up, scolded them and sent them on their way.

But with Jay, you always wanted to keep him around because you… liked him.

You had to stop yourself from checking him out when you got back to your room, he’d pulled his suit down to his hips, toned stomach on display.

“You sure you know what you’re doing..?” he frowned.

Instead of responding you shoved a piece of cloth into his mouth.

“Bite on it.”

Jay used his free hands to pull the cloth out. His hands reached into the box to grab a painkiller and swallow it dry.

“Ew.” you sneered. “I have water..”

He ignored you. “There’s nothing in the wound, I already checked.”

Taking alcohol, you cleaned the outside of the wound and prepped your synthetic polymer fibres.

As soon as the cool metal pierced Jay’s skin he began to squirm around.

His jaw flexed as he groaned out in pain.

“Please stop moving, Jay,” you begged. “It’s gonna hurt more if you keep moving.”

Despite your plea, he continued to twist and turn.

You groaned in frustration.

“Stop moving!”

The cloth was placed in his mouth again and you got up onto your knees to snatch the scarf that dangled off your bed frame.

Your hands grabbed his wrists and tied them behind his back, double knotting the scarf so that he wouldn’t move.

Jay thrashed around trying to rip out of the restraints.

“Okay, calm down, I’m starting again,”

You slowly but surely sutured the wound and wrapped his waist in a bandage.

Jay whimpered.

“Huh?” your head snapped up as you took the cloth out of his mouth.

Without missing a beat, he leaned forward and kissed you.

Your fingers automatically made their way into his hair as you licked along his bottom lip.

He opened his mouth and pressed his tongue flat against yours before fighting for dominance in your mouth.

You couldn’t get enough. Your lungs gasped for air as you continued to practically eat his face off.

Subconsciously you lowered your hips onto his, rolling to get friction from his semi hard on against your pulsing core.

“Fuck.” he whimpered. Again.

“Always whining,” you teased him. “Never thought you’d be such a bottom, Jongie.”

He ripped the scarf as he broke free from the restraints.

Now you were the one whining.

“All I did was rip the scarf and you’re already dripping into my lap, who’s the real bottom here?” he mocked you with a fake look of shock all over his face. “Always wanted to have you under me..”

His words had your hips rutting against his, pathetic moans leaving your throat.

“Do I even have to do anything or will you get off just like this?” he grinned, marking up your neck.

A faint beeping broke you out of your trance.

“AHHHH! THE OVEN!”

You got up immediately, ignoring the way your fuzzy cat pyjamas clung to your lower body, and ran to the kitchen.

Thankfully the food wasn’t burnt but you clutched your heart as Jay launched himself onto your waist.

“I meant to say thank you.” he whispered.

His fingers made their way to where you needed him most, circling your clit through the fabric.

“Yeah- right. You.. You’re welcome.” you moaned at the end of your sentence, the pressure building up.

“Is this okay..?” he asked.

“Yes.” you nodded.

Jay pulled away laughing at your protest.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

You kept your lips shut. There was no way in hell that you were gonna submit to him so easily.

“Come on, baby.” he stared down at you through half lidded eyes. “Tell me where you want me..”

You shook your head, stubbornness radiating off your body.

“Is it here?” Jay asked.

His fingers unbuttoned your shirt, gasping at your uncovered chest as he tugged at your nipples.

A loud whine left your lips.

“Sensitive.. I see.” he looked determined.

“I’m not.” you grumbled.

He grazed your left nipple with his teeth, fondling the other with his warm hand.

“Fuck.” you moaned as his wet tongue circled the sensitive spot.

“You’re not huh?” he shook his head at your lie.

“Jay please.” you whined, hips chasing his.

“Please what?” he leaned away.

You swallowed your pride for the sake of your pleasure.

“I need you.” you moaned. “Need your fingers inside me.”

Jay lowered his head as an overwhelming wave of pleasure hit his body. He always knew that he’d liked you, but those words sent him over the edge.

He needed to have you immediately.

“Say it again.” he growled.

Once his lust filled eyes made eye contact with yours, you clenched your legs together.

“I need you so bad, Jay.” you whined.

He manhandled your body onto the kitchen counter, ripping off your pyjama bottoms and underwear in one go.

His tongue licked a stripe up your dripping hole, collecting the slick that leaked out.

Jay closed his eyes, taking in the taste.

“You taste so fucking good.” he whined.

Without missing the chance to take advantage of his submissive state, you tugged at his hair.

“Fuck..” he moaned loudly.

“You’re so hot.” you whimpered.

Seeing him like this made you feel a certain way.

He eagerly embraced your clit with his tongue and shoved his fingers into your cunt. They scissored you open before curling into you at a rapid pace.

Your hips thrashed up, chasing your high, not even caring about the loud sounds leaving your mouth and lewd sounds coming from Jay.

“You close?” he asked between moans.

You nodded, unable to form proper sentences.

“You have to ask.” Jay firmly stood his ground.

“Jay, please. Please let me cum!” you pathetically begged.

“Okay, princess.” he nodded. “Come for me..”

The orgasm hit you like five trucks, it truly felt never ending as Jay helped you through it.

Once your body recovered, you jumped down onto shaky legs attacking Jay’s lips as you pushed him backwards.

He absentmindedly followed the direction, tripping backwards as his legs made contact with your bed.

“Close your eyes.”

Jay made himself comfortable, lying down with his eyes closed.

“Wait- what!” his eyes shot open.

You’d handcuffed him to the headboard.

“Now why do you have these..” he questioned.

“Was saving them for when you’d come around.” you whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “Now i’m gonna help you, with your little problem.”

You gestured to the way his cock painfully throbbed in the tight material of his suit.

“It’s not a little problem- Shit.”

He closed his eyes as you grabbed at his crotch.

You left kisses down his body, licking his abs before pulling the rest of his suit off.

His cock slapped up against his stomach causing him to moan loudly.

“How are you so wet..?” you questioned in awe, staring at him in disbelief.

“Stop staring at me..” he blushed.

“You weren’t lying about this not being a little problem.” you praised, licking a stripe along the underside. “You’re so big, so thick.”

Jay’s hips thrusted up, more precum leaking out.

“Please.. help me.” he cried.

“Don’t cry, baby,” you wiped away the tear that left his eye, babying him. “I’ll help you.”

Instead of sucking him off, you lowered your hips onto his dick.

Jay felt like he was going to explode.

“Fuck! You’re so tight,” he moaned.

The stretch had your eyes rolling back.

Hands falling onto his chest for support, you slowly found your own pace to bounce at.

“Please let me touch you..” he begged.

“No.” you scolded. “I’m going to go at my pace and you’re gonna get off this way.”

Tears were fully streaking down his face at this point.

His balls were heavy and tip throbbing, the sensation being too much for him to handle.

You continued to bounce on him, eyes closing at the pleasure of his thickness rubbing against your walls.

The moans leaving your throat increased in volume as slick gushed out of your pussy. The thought of using Jay had you excited.

Seeing you on top of him, using him for your own pleasure had Jay going insane.

He broke out of the handcuffs and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Fuck! Jay, right there!” you cried out in surprise.

His palms smacked at your ass, rapidly pushing you back onto his dick.

“Wait.. wait I wanna see your face when I cum.” he whined, flipping your body over.

Your legs rested on his shoulders as you cried at the newer, deeper angle.

His balls smacked against your ass as he slammed his hips against yours.

“Jay, I can’t,” you moaned.

“Yes you can.” he growled. “I’m so close.”

His hips began to falter before they stilled, shooting cum deep inside you.

You came right after him, his whines and moans setting you off.

Jay slumped onto your body, cradling your face with his hands.

“I like you so so much.” he confessed, kissing you sweetly.

“Well I think I’ve liked you for longer.” you laughed.

“If you say so.” he giggled, hugging your chest. “That was so good, I don’t think I’ll ever let you have anyone other than myself.”

“Same here.” you played with his hair. “WAIT FUCK MY PAPER!”

THE END.

~

bonus scene:

After getting cleaned up and eating (Jay forced you to) you sat on his lap at your desk, typing onto your desktop computer.

He read out the transcript and helped you summarise it into text.

“Sunghoon says that he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because I remember him throwing himself at you during this interview hoping that you’d give him attention, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame ass bitch who doesn’t get any hoes’ he truly did fuck around and find out!”

You laughed at his words.

“I knew you’d say something like that.”

He snuggled up to your back.

“So I’m getting predictable now, huh…”

You shook your head. “Never..”

“Guess our date will have to be something you wouldn’t expect.”

He was right, you really didn’t expect lunch on top of Brooklyn Bridge.

[starkeyslibrary]

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 2

pairing: you x drew starkey

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden light across your shared bedroom. You stirred awake to the sound of Drew shuffling around the room, already half-dressed for his next press obligation. His movements were quick, almost practiced, as he buttoned his shirt and grabbed his watch from the nightstand.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Drew’s voice was soft, a gentle whisper as he leaned over to kiss your forehead. He was already in work mode, his hair still damp from the shower, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne. His presence should have been comforting, but today, it just felt distant.

“Morning,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes and adjusting the blanket to wrap yourself tighter. You didn’t feel like facing the day. The night before had been difficult enough, and you didn’t know how to move forward from it. “What’s on the schedule today?”

“More interviews,” Drew said, running his hand through his damp hair. “Odessa and I are doing a segment for some morning show. Same old PR stuff.”

You nodded, your throat tightening, trying not to let your discomfort show. You had gotten used to this routine – being around Drew when the cameras were on, the endless interviews, the flashes, the constant attention. But this time, something about the way he said her name made it feel different. More real.

“You’ll do great,” you said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Drew’s gaze softened, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Yeah,” you replied quickly, but it was too fast. You knew it didn’t sound convincing.

Drew nodded but didn’t press further. He bent down and kissed you on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

The day dragged on. You couldn’t focus, your thoughts a whirlwind of insecurity and doubt. You found yourself staring at your phone every few minutes, waiting for Drew to check in. But nothing. He was busy with the press tour, and every update you saw on social media made things worse.

Drew and Odessa. Odessa and Drew. Their names were all over the internet. You could almost feel the heat radiating from your phone screen as you scrolled through the clips from that morning’s interview.

In the clip, they looked so natural together, so comfortable. Drew’s easy laughter filled the air as Odessa leaned into him, her hand brushing his arm in what seemed like a casual, innocent gesture. But you knew better. This wasn’t just a movie press tour. This was a carefully crafted performance.

Still, it didn’t stop the pit in your stomach from growing.

“Working with Drew has been amazing,” Odessa said in the clip, her voice light, playful. “He’s so talented, and we just clicked instantly.”

Drew’s smile was warm, maybe too warm. “Yeah, Odessa makes it easy. She’s incredible,” he added, his eyes never leaving her face.

The host leaned forward with a teasing smile. “I can tell. You two have such great chemistry. Think the fans will start shipping you together?”

Odessa glanced at Drew, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe,” she said with a flirtatious tone. “But we’re just having fun. Giving the people what they want.”

The camera zoomed in on them, capturing the moment when Drew’s fingers brushed Odessa’s hand. You could feel your heart sinking, the jealousy and pain too raw to ignore.

The comments started flooding in within minutes:

@/user9819837: “I ship them SO hard! They’re adorable!”

@/lover987756: “Move over Y/N, #Dressa is the new endgame.”

@/user3012002039: “Their chemistry is off the charts.. bet it’s not just acting 😉”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt the wetness on your cheek.

You tried to push the feelings away, focusing on something – anything – else. But the restlessness in your chest wouldn’t let up. Finally, you texted your best friend, Madelyn, desperate for someone who understood.

You: I don’t know what to do anymore. I saw the interview today. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. I feel like I’m invisible to him.

The reply came almost instantly.

Madelyn: I’m sorry you’re going through this. I get it, I really do. Maybe it’s just the PR stuff? They’re working, you know? But I know it’s tough. Have you talked to him about it?

You stared at the screen for a moment. How could you talk to Drew about this? Every time you tried, he dismissed your concerns as if they didn’t matter. As if this was just part of his job, and you needed to accept it.

You: I’ve tried, it’s like he doesn’t get how much it hurts to see him with her, even if it’s all fake. I don’t know if I can take it.

You stared at the text, hoping Madelyn would have something better to say. Instead, she was blunt, but kind.

Madelyn: I know you’re hurting, but you’ve got to be honest with him. He’s not going to change if he doesn’t know what you’re going through. You have to talk to him. For you.

By the time Drew came home, the tension between you was unbearable. You hadn’t spoken since the morning, and when Drew walked in, it was clear that something was off. But before you could say anything, he dropped his bag and ran his fingers through his hair, looking exhausted.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I’m gonna head out with the guys tonight. Some of the crew from Outer Banks are getting together. I’ve gotta keep up appearances.”

You stared at him, not sure what to say. He seemed so distant, like the space between you had grown too  large to bridge. You nodded, trying not to let your frustration show.

“I’ll be fine,” you said, even though it was the farthest thing from the truth. You didn’t want to spend another night alone, so you texted the girls group chat.

You: “Hey want to come over tonight? I need some company.”

Madelyn: “Of course! I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Madison: “Count me and Carlacia in! She is riding with me <3”

You were relieved when your friends arrived – Madelyn, Madison and a few others. They could tell something was wrong. As soon as they stepped inside, Madelyn pulled you aside.

“What’s going on? You look like you’ve been through hell.”

You didn’t want to break down in front of them, but the words tumbled out before you could step them.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Maddie. The way Drew is with Odessa… it feels like he’s slipping away, and I’m powerless to stop it.”

Madelyn sat down beside you, rubbing your back comfortingly. “You’re not powerless, Y/N. He’s just – caught up in the PR stuff. But you have to talk to him about it.”

“I’ve tried,” you whispered, your eyes filling with tears. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

The night passed in a blur of laughter and distractions, but the moment your friends left, everything came rushing back. You grabbed your phone to check for messages, hoping for something from Drew, but instead you were met with the flashing headlines on your feed.

“Drew Starkey and Odessa A’Zion Together Again – The ‘Dresda’ Romance Heats Up!”

You clicked on the article, your heart sinking when you saw the photos. Drew and Odessa walking together in the city at night. Their hands were brushing, and there was an intimacy between them you hadn’t seen between you and Drew in weeks. The photos made it look effortless, like they were a couple – nothing about it screamed “PR stunt.”

You felt your world crumble around you as the images loaded, one after another. Drew’s smile was wide and genuine, a stark contrast to the forced, stiff smiles he’d been giving you lately. Odessa was laughing, her head tilted back, looking up at him with that same spark you’d seen in their interviews. They looked perfect together.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the last of the photos appeared on the screen – Drew and Odessa stopped at a café, sitting so close their legs brushed. You swiped through the photos again, then again, hoping at the next swipe would somehow make it stop. But it didn’t.

Your heart ached in a way you couldn’t put into words. Drew was supposed to be your person. But now? It felt like he had chosen someone else – someone who wasn’t you.

The room spun as you tried to steady your breath. You curled up into yourself, feeling the weight of everything press down on you.

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss

[koyagifs]

𝓱𝓸𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼

ʚɞ pairing : wooyoung x reader ʚɞ au : idol! | 9th member ʚɞ word count: 3.280 words ʚɞ summary : yn and wooyoung do an interview on The Hot Ones! ʚɞ what if! wooyoung and yn dated

" Hey what's going everybody, for first we feast i'm Sean Evans and you're watching hot ones," Sean said, as the camera pans to show yn and Wooyoung seat next to each other.

" it's the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today we are joined by yn ln and Jung Wooyoung. They're apart of the sensational group called ATEEZ." Sean announced with enthusiasm, as the camera zoomed in on Yn and Wooyoung, who both waved with bright smiles.

Wooyoung chuckled, shooting a confident grin at the camera. “I’ve been preparing for this my whole life,” he joked, earning a laugh from Yn and Sean.

Sean continued, “Yn, Wooyoung, welcome to Hot Ones. You’re both known for tackling some intense stages and delivering jaw-dropping performances. But today, the real test is whether you can handle these hot wings and even hotter questions.”

Yn glanced at the lineup of sauces nervously, then turned to Wooyoung with a playful smirk. “Think we can handle it?”

Wooyoung leaned back with a smirk. “Oh, I can handle it. But Yn… let’s see if you’re ready to keep up.”

Sean laughed, leaning forward as he lifted the first wing. “Alright, let’s see if the heat lives up to ATEEZ standards. First wing up!”

scoville level 1,700: first question - how did you guys come up with your aniteez characters?

Yn took a bite of the first wing, savoring the mild heat as she thought about the question. She smiled, looking at Wooyoung before turning to Sean.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, trying to hold back a laugh. "I swear, I’m not a cat. I just happen to have… cat-like tendencies, okay?” He looked at the camera, raising his eyebrows. “You can thank Yn for that rumor!”

Yn grinned and shrugged. “Hey, I’m just saying, our fans notice these things. Plus, if anyone were going to have an alter ego as a cat-like character, it’d be you!”

Sean leaned in, clearly entertained by their dynamic. “So, Wooyoung, does this mean your A-NITEEZ character embodies all those cat-like traits?”

Wooyoung smirked, leaning back confidently. “Oh, absolutely. My character’s got this mysterious, sleek vibe—totally cool, just like a cat. But I also added a little bit of mischief in there because, you know, why not?”

Yn laughed, nodding. “See? I rest my case.”

Sean shook his head, laughing along. “Alright, so we’ve confirmed that Wooyoung is practically the group’s resident cat in A-NITEEZ and maybe in real life. Let’s see if we can uncover any more secrets as the wings get hotter!”

scoville level 6,200: second question - favorite song on golden hour pt.1?

Yn took a deep breath before biting into the second wing, her eyes widening a bit at the subtle increase in heat. “Ooh, okay, definitely feeling it now,” she laughed, reaching for her water.

After a moment, she looked at Sean. “My favorite song on Golden Hour Pt. 1 has to be 'Empty Box.’ It just has this… deep, atmospheric vibe that hits differently. Plus, it was so fun to record; we really experimented with vocal layers and harmonies.”

Wooyoung nodded, his own mouth slightly burning but still grinning through it. “For me, it’s gotta be ‘ Bind ’ I love how upbeat it is—it’s like this perfect mix of hype."

Sean raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed with their choices. "Great picks. 'Empty Box' has that haunting, layered feeling to it, and 'Bind'—I can see why Wooyoung would pick that one. It's got so much energy. Now, as the heat starts to kick in, let��s see if you two are still as cool as ever!"

Yn gave a playful smile, trying to keep her composure as the spice started to settle in. "Definitely feelin’ the heat," she admitted, wiping her brow.

Wooyoung, still grinning despite the rising heat, leaned in. "Honestly, though, 'Bind' is one of those songs that makes you wanna just lose yourself in it, you know? Like you’re in a different world. It's an easy song to get lost in."

Sean laughed, glancing at the wings. "I think this next one might test your limits even more. Ready for the next round?"

Yn and Wooyoung exchanged looks before nodding in determination, both of them bracing themselves for what was next.

scoville level 18,00: third question - what has been your favorite place to travel?

Yn took a cautious bite of the third wing, her eyes widening as the heat immediately kicked up. “Whoa, okay, this is the real deal now,” she said, laughing through the heat. “But... favorite place to travel?”

Yn took another sip of water, trying to cool off, but the heat was definitely taking its toll. "I’d have to say Mexico," she continued, her voice slightly strained from the spice. "The culture, the food, the beaches... it’s all so vibrant. I loved getting to experience everything from the food markets to the ancient ruins. And the people—everyone was so welcoming."

Wooyoung nodded vigorously, still feeling the burn but pushing through it. "I can definitely get behind that. Mexico is beautiful. For me, though, it’s gotta be Italy. The history, the art, the food—everything about it felt like I was walking through a dream. I’ll never forget the first time I saw the Colosseum. It was unreal."

Sean smiled, wiping his hands on his napkin. "Great picks, both of you. The heat’s clearly not slowing you down! So, what’s next?"

Yn wiped her forehead, a little sweat beginning to form as she looked at Wooyoung. "I think we’re just getting started, right?" she said, giving him a determined look.

Wooyoung grinned, but his eyes were watering a little from the spice. "Yeah, no turning back now!"

scoville level 33,00: fourth question - favorite mv filming location?

Yn’s eyes widened as she took a bite of the fourth wing, immediately feeling the intense heat. She paused for a moment, trying to keep her composure, before letting out a small gasp. “Okay, this one’s definitely hitting harder,” she said, trying to keep a grin on her face despite the spice. “Favorite MV filming location, though?”

She glanced over at Wooyoung, who was also struggling to keep it together. “For me, it’s gotta be the desert for Treasure and Pirate King. That was such a unique experience. The atmosphere was just incredible—this vast, open space that made everything feel so dramatic and cinematic. Plus, it was pretty hot, so I was already mentally prepared for this moment,” she joked, fanning her face.

Wooyoung chuckled, rubbing his mouth with a napkin. “I totally agree with you on the desert. But for me, I think my favorite has to be the beach from ‘Wave.’ It felt like we were filming in a fairy tale. The natural setting, the misty trees—it was just such a vibe. I really felt like I could lose myself in that world.”

Sean was laughing, clearly enjoying their reactions. "Those are some epic locations! The desert’s got that raw, expansive feel, and the forest is all mystical. Alright, we’re cranking up the heat, but you’re doing great. Ready to tackle the next one?"

Yn and Wooyoung exchanged a quick glance before nodding. “Let’s do it,” Yn said through a strained smile, still trying to power through the burn.

scoville level 54,00: fifth question - what is your favorite song to perfom / would like perform?

Yn and Wooyoung both hesitated for a moment, staring at the fifth wing in front of them. The heat from the previous wing was still lingering, and the next one looked like it would be a whole new level.

Yn bravely took a bite, trying to hold it together, but her eyes widened as soon as the heat hit. "Okay, this one is definitely no joke," she laughed, wiping her brow with a napkin.

After a moment, she looked at Sean, trying to focus through the heat. “Favorite song to perform… I think I’d say ‘Hala Hala.’ It’s just so intense and has so much energy. When the crowd gets into it, it’s like a wave of adrenaline that you can’t beat. The whole performance is so wild, and it really pulls everything out of you.”

Wooyoung, also struggling to keep his cool, took a bite of his wing. His face immediately flushed as the heat made its presence known, but he grinned through the pain. "For me, it’s gotta be ‘Answer.’ That song has such an emotional weight to it, especially when you’re performing it live. The connection with the fans is unreal, and it just feels so powerful. It’s the type of performance where you really pour everything into it."

Sean smiled, clearly impressed with their answers despite the heat. “Both songs are legendary for different reasons—Hala Hala is all about the hype and the energy, and Answer really pulls at the heartstrings. You guys are holding up like pros!”

Yn laughed weakly, her eyes watering. “We might be almost professionals now…”

Wooyoung wiped his forehead with a napkin, giving her a thumbs up. “Yeah, we’re definitely pros now. Just keep moving forward!”

scoville level 71,00: sixth question - how did you two become the closest ?

Yn and Wooyoung both took hesitant bites of the sixth wing, and immediately, their faces contorted with the intense heat. Yn let out a breath, fanning her face while trying to hold her composure. “Okay, this... this is a whole new level,” she said through gritted teeth, wiping her eyes.

Wooyoung, clearly struggling too, took a moment before he spoke. “We’ve officially reached the point where everything burns," he chuckled, rubbing his mouth.

Once they both took a few deep breaths, Yn answered, "How we became the closest? Well, Wooyoung and I have always had this... weird connection, I think. We clicked pretty early on. He’s the type of person who doesn’t let anyone get too far away, and I’m... well, I'm the type who’ll keep everyone together. We just naturally gravitated toward each other, supporting each other through everything.”

Wooyoung nodded, still fighting the heat but grinning. “Yeah, it was kind of like that. It was the little things—like making sure Yn wasn’t overworking herself or giving each other space when we needed it. But then, when it came down to the tough moments, we always had each other's backs, no matter what.”

Yn smiled, turning to Wooyoung. “And it wasn’t just the big things, right? It was also laughing at the smallest jokes, or sharing those quiet moments when no one else was around. We just knew how to support each other.”

Sean grinned, clearly impressed with how they were handling the heat. “It’s awesome to see that kind of bond between you two. It’s like that perfect balance of support and fun."

scoville level 126,00: seventh question - favorite movie / books

Yn and Wooyoung both took a deep breath before biting into the seventh wing, knowing this would be the final stretch. As soon as they tasted the sauce, their faces immediately reflected the shock of heat. Yn reached for her water, trying not to cough as the burn surged.

“Okay, this is the moment we’ve been waiting for…” she said, her voice a little hoarse from the spice. She wiped her forehead, trying to keep a smile on her face. "Favorite movie or book?" she repeated, clearly feeling the heat.

She thought for a moment, then said, “ i love the hunger games series, including the books. It's all i would read during our free time in our trainee days."

Wooyoung, still battling the heat, nodded in agreement with Yn’s choice. “I remember that. We’d all gather around during free time, and Yn would be deep into The Hunger Games—I swear, she knew every detail of that series by heart.” He chuckled through the pain, his face flushed.

Wooyoung chugged his water, let out a sigh of relief before he spoke. " i love the harry potter movies, definietly something yn would join me watching them."

scoville level 135,600: eighth question - any solo projects coming soon?

Yn and Wooyoung both braced themselves as they eyed the eighth wing, knowing this would be the hottest challenge yet. Wooyoung, despite the obvious struggle, took a deep breath and bit into the wing. Immediately, his eyes watered, and he reached for his water, trying not to cough.

"Okay... this one might actually be the end of me," he said, his voice slightly hoarse from the burn.

Yn, equally affected, quickly followed suit, biting into her wing. The heat hit her immediately, and she winced. "Oh my god, it’s like my mouth is on fire,” she said, fanning her face and trying to smile through it.

After a few moments of both of them trying to recover, Sean smirked, knowing he had stumped them with this one. "Any solo projects coming soon?"

Yn wiped her brow, gathering her thoughts. "Well, we’ve been working really hard on group projects right now, but… I do have some solo things I’ve been thinking about. I’ve been experimenting with some personal music and concepts that are a bit different from what we’ve done as a group, so we’ll see what happens with that."

Wooyoung, still rubbing his eyes from the heat, nodded slowly, clearly fighting through the pain. "For me, I’ve been focusing a lot on improving my skills, you know? Some personal projects are in the works—maybe more music and some other fun things to share with our fans in the future."

Yn managed a laugh, wiping her forehead. “The heat’s definitely making this harder to answer, but we’ll have some surprises coming your way for sure.”

Sean gave them both a supportive nod. “Love it! You’re keeping things under wraps, huh? Well, with the heat getting to you guys, I’ll say this—if the solo projects are anything like the effort you put into handling these wings, they’re going to be fire."

Wooyoung chuckled weakly, raising his water bottle. "You could say we’re burning with ideas."

scoville level 700,000: ninth question - any games you guys are playing at the moment?

Yn and Wooyoung both eyed the ninth wing with a mix of dread and determination. After a few moments of hesitation, they each took a bite, and the intense heat hit them like a freight train. Their faces immediately flushed, and both of them struggled to keep their composure, reaching for their water bottles.

"Okay, this is way too hot," Yn managed to laugh, wiping her forehead. "But games…"

She paused, trying to breathe through the heat. " valorant. I think yunho and i play rank a lot. I think last i played was diamond ?"

Yn nodded, her eyes watering slightly from the heat but managing to push through. "Yeah, Valorant has definitely been a go-to. Yunho and I have been playing ranked a lot together. I think the last time I played, I was in Diamond? It’s definitely a grind, but we always have a blast, even when things get intense."

Wooyoung, still recovering from the heat, laughed weakly. "Yeah, Yunho’s pretty serious about his rank, but he’s also a great teammate. You two definitely make a solid duo."

Yn chuckled, though it was clear the burn was still lingering. " wooyoung and i play as well! We play league of legends, although im not the best at it"

Wooyoung, still wiping his face from the heat, grinned and nodded. "Oh, League of Legends, yes! We play that together too, but trust me, Yn’s being humble. She’s actually way better than she lets on. I, on the other hand... I’m just trying not to feed the enemy team," he laughed, clearly still feeling the spice but in good spirits.

Yn laughed weakly, her face flushed from both the heat and the conversation. "I try, but I’m definitely not as good as Wooyoung. I just get carried along for the ride," she teased, her voice a little raspy. "But it’s fun! Playing together just makes it all more entertaining, even if we end up getting wrecked."

Sean laughed at their dynamic. "Sounds like you guys have a blast even when things don’t go according to plan. A true team effort!"

Wooyoung nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! And honestly, the chaos in League is like the chaos from these wings. You never know what’s coming next, but you just have to roll with it."

Yn grinned, looking at Wooyoung. "Yeah, just like this hot sauce—League is always unpredictable."

scoville level 2,693,000: tenth question - are you two dating

Both Yn and Wooyoung froze for a moment, clearly taken aback by the intensity of the question, especially with the heat still burning. The tenth wing sat in front of them, glowing ominously. Wooyoung hesitated for a second, his mouth still on fire, before he slowly took a bite of the final wing, trying his best to maintain his composure.

Yn followed suit, biting into the fiery wing and immediately feeling the intense burn. The heat hit them both at once, and for a brief moment, neither of them could speak. Wooyoung wiped his eyes, trying to recover, and then finally managed to laugh weakly.

"Okay, this is really hot," he said, attempting to push through the question.

Tears flowed down both of their faces, yn hands out as one of the staff handed her another glass of milk.

Wooyoung, clearly struggling to keep it together, looked over at Yn, who was holding the milk with shaky hands. Tears streamed down their faces as they both tried to cool down from the scorching heat of the tenth wing. Wooyoung took a long swig of water, eyes wide as he tried to clear the fire from his mouth.

Yn took a sip of the milk, feeling a brief moment of relief as the coolness hit her tongue. She gave Wooyoung a sympathetic look, her eyes still teary. "This is a whole new level of spicy," she managed to say, her voice strained.

"uh, dating?" he repeated, glancing at Yn, who was still trying to manage the heat.

Yn, also struggling but determined to answer, managed a soft laugh through the burn. “ we're - holy shit " she gasped, eyes watering from the heat.

Wooyoung gulped the last of milk, " yes, we're dating, " he hoarse out

Yn took a deep breath, her face flushed from both the heat and the revelation. Her voice still a bit strained, she managed to finish her sentence, "We've been dating since 2020... right after we spent that whole summer together, just the two of us, during one of the most insane schedules we’ve ever had."

She wiped her face, still trying to cool down, and shot Wooyoung a playful look. "It wasn't exactly how we planned it, but I guess the wings weren't the only thing that got heated today."

Wooyoung, still trying to recover from the heat, gave a weak chuckle. "Yeah, I mean, it took us some time to figure things out, but… here we are. In front of everyone, telling the world."

Sean, clearly enjoying the moment, grinned widely. "Well, folks, looks like we just got a Hot Ones exclusive! Dating since 2020—what a reveal!"

Yn laughed weakly, her eyes still a bit watery. "I swear, these wings made everything 10 times harder, but yeah, here we are. And now everyone knows."

Wooyoung gave her a small grin, his voice soft. "Yeah, no more secrets. We’re in this together."

Sean, clearly impressed, leaned back in his chair. "Well, that’s a wrap for today's episode of Hot Ones. You both survived the heat, spilled the tea, and kept your sense of humor through it all. You’re legends in my book."

[woodywood101blog]

Experimental: Postpartum

It was a rough 24 hours following the birth of the babies, but the quick-thinking duo of Mike and Anna were able to rapidly stabilise the internal bleeding resulting from Yazan’s body rejecting the uterus. Randy barely got any sleep as he stayed by Yazan’s bedside to make sure he and the babies were okay. The team fed Yazan through a drip to ensure that he could produce milk for the babies. Randy helped get the breast pumps set up to feed the babies by bottle.

After a week in a medically induced coma, the team decided to try and wake up Yazan. In what could only be described as a miracle, Yazan woke up. He groaned and turned to face Randy. Randy tightly gripped Yazan’s hands as he burst into tears. “Oh my god, Yaz! You scared me for a hot minute!”

“Wh-where’s my babies?” Yazan looked down at his breasts being pumped and his smaller belly and rapidly looked around the room.

“Yaz, your babies are alright. They’re in the nursery next door. We can bring them in.”

Yazan started crying intensely as he realised just how close he was to never being able to see his kids that he grew so attached to over the months. Randy got up and hugged Yazan tightly, kissing his head as they both cried together. “You’re alright, babe.”

After a further two weeks at the RPA, the team provided clearance for Yazan and the babies to be discharged. All four of the babies passed their tests with flying colours, which Randy had great pleasure in running. Yazan felt sore from both being in a coma and as his body started to readjust back to a vague presentation of itself before he got pregnant.

“Hey, before you go, I just have something I need to sort out with you. Can we talk privately?” Mike said to Yazan. They walked towards a courtyard table and sat, Yazan groaning as he tried to contort his legs to sit.

“You are one incredible man, you know that right? I truly cannot believe how incredibly strong and courageous you are. Take away the history of being the first man to successfully carry children to term, you are now a father to four beautiful children. And that man over there,” Mike said as he pointed towards Randy. “That man loves everything about you. He literally did not leave your bedside until we forced him to go back to the apartment to ‘grab things’. He ran all the tests and did all the feedings of the babies. That is true love right there.”

Yazan glanced back at Randy, who was holding a coffee while chatting with Anna. Randy looked back and smiled at Yazan.

“I can’t be a barrier to true love. So, I spoke with a family lawyer, and I’m going to get the process started on relinquishing my parental responsibilities. I have also arranged for Randy to speak with another lawyer to get the ball rolling on getting the kids American passports, because technically your kids are just Australians at the moment.”

Yazan looked up at Mike and quietly said, “Thank you. I am so sorry for being an asshole.”

“I’ll blame the hormones, it’s fine.” Mike and Yazan chuckled as they sipped their cups of coffee.

***

After a couple more weeks of interviews, urgent Family Court hearings and interviews at the United States Consulate in Sydney, Yazan was granted sole parental responsibility of the four kids, and the four kids were granted American citizenship. From there, it was just a matter of getting the kids back to the United States to start their new life together, alongside Randy.

Randy relished the opportunity to be a father, and took a strong lead in supporting Yazan to settle into a routine. This also included selling his apartment downtown and moving in with Yazan to the newly expanded family home. Randy did a lot of the day chores, like cleaning, cooking and bills, while Yazan focused on feeding the babies and other odd bits of chores as needed.

Yazan awkwardly had to explain to the hospital’s HR that he needed to move to part-time work as he had four babies to look after. His cause was not helped when his breasts started to leak milk during the meeting. However, he managed to arrange 3 full months of leave, and would slowly transition back to 3 days a week. Randy also took two weeks paternity leave, which he was surprised HR agreed to.

Over the days and weeks, Yazan and Randy found their groove as they settled into their new life with Anna, Michael, Tanner and Richard. Yazan chose Anna and Michael to recognise the incredible support they gave during the birth, and Randy chose Tanner and Richard after other close colleagues at work.

They never truly explained to friends what happened. However, their friend Tanner was clued into Yazan’s growing belly, but never commented in fear it was just regular weight gain. Yazan quietly told Tanner the full story over lunch one day as he brought the kids in to see his haematology colleagues, plus Randy.

***

Yazan was getting himself ready one morning before the kids woke up, and sighed as he looked in the mirror. His entire body had transformed from the muscular hunk he was known to be at the hospital to an overweight man with actual breasts that needed to be pumped to avoid unexpected leakages. He started to wonder whether he could ever get his pre-baby body back.

As Yazan walked out of the bedroom and into the living room, Randy noticed Yazan’s demeanour.

“Hey, babe, how are you feeling today?”

“I feel disgusting today.”

“What brought that feeling?”

“I just.. I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking cow with full-grown double-D tits. I still look like I’m pregnant and I just… I just want this to go back to normal.”

Randy stood up and slowly walked towards Yazan, who felt ashamed.

“I know I should be proud because my body went through so much to bring these kids into the world, and I get to sustain life with these breasts, but I’m not a man anymore. I’m just… a baby machine!”

Randy chuckled as he hugged Yazan tightly, kissing him on the forehead. “Rightio, Yaz. As you said, you have gone through so much. And you know what, you’re alive, the kids are alive, and if the price to pay at the moment is that you have some love handles, is that really the end of the world?”

“No…”

“Right. I love you, Yaz. I love all of you, every nook and crevice. And yes, I even love your belly and your tits. Why? Because you are so much stronger than any other man on Earth. You have literally done what no other man has done: bring new life. That is beyond incredible, babe! Heck, if I could, I would.”

“Don’t say that too loudly, I still have Mike’s number.”

“You get the point! I love you and I will be there for you, regardless of how you look or how you’ve changed or what’s happened. You are who I want to be with for my whole life.”

Yazan raised an eyebrow as he saw Randy step back and bend down on one knee.

“Randy.. What are you doing?”

“Look, I don’t have a ring, but I’ll ask anyway: I love you, Yazan. I want to spend the rest of my life with you… Yazan, will you marry me?”

Yazan’s eyes widened as he realised what Randy just asked. He beamed and quietly screamed out “Yes!”. As he ran towards Randy to hug and kiss, they heard the baby monitor squeal with the four babies awake.

***

Six months later, Yazan and Randy managed to tie the knot. They didn’t want to wait much longer, and didn’t necessarily care for a lot of the formalities, given the unconventional nature of how they became a family, so it was fairly easy to arrange the wedding at a civil registry, and then arrange a low-key dinner with friends, family and other loved ones.

They invited Mike and Anna to come along from Australia to the ceremony. They were delighted to be invited, and eagerly accepted a separate invite from Yazan to come to their place and see the kids.

As Anna was holding up baby Anna, Mike got to chatting with Randy and Yazan. “So, we have some news from the research side of things. The university provisionally approved further research.”

“Oh, amazing! That’s good to hear.” Randy said.

“Yeah, it was a bit stressful trying to explain at a high level what happened, but the university saw the merit in continuing the research into the hormone supplements to see what sort of expanded uses it could help with. And, Yazan, you’d be pleased to know that the research approval had nothing to do with your pregnancy.”

“Wait, what? How?” Yazan was confused.

“Well… I hadn’t actually told anyone at the time, but when you were being discharged from hospital, I was actually 12 weeks pregnant.”

Randy and Yazan’s eyes widened in shock. Mike pulled out his phone to show his lock screen photo. It showed a small baby girl. “This is Shayna.” Randy and Yazan joyfully hugged Mike as Mike started to tear up in happiness too.

“I’ve been doing this research for years because I so desperately wanted to have a child of my own. My dream has come true.” Mike said through tears.

***

A year later, the four kids had grown into their own distinct personalities. Anna was the boss and had no hesitation in getting her brothers to do what she wanted. Michael was inquisitive, always waddling around the house looking for something exciting to do. Tanner was quieter, sometimes in his own world, but always happy and joyful. And Richard was energetic, always running around the house and making Yazan and Randy’s lives busier than it already was.

As they settled the four kids into bed, Yazan and Randy slid onto the sofa and sighed.

Randy sighed, “Ahh, isn’t this bliss? The kids are asleep, the house is clean, everyone is fed, and I now have a nice glass of red.”

“Yep, cheers to that.” Yazan replied as they clinked their glasses. “Hey babe, I was thinking today…”

“You know I don’t like it when you start phrases like that!”

“Randy, you’ll like this idea! I was thinking… about seeing whether Mike was really correct about the uterus and ovary being fully-functional?”

“Huh, what?”

“You know how I vented that the magic salt -”

“The hormonal supplements?”

“Yes, the hormonal supplements caused me to grow a fully-functioning uterus and ovary… I was wondering whether you wanted to see if that hypothesis was correct?”

“Are you saying you want another child?”

“In other words, yes.”

Randy scooched over towards Yazan and sensually kissed his lips. “I’ve been wondering whether you would ever say yes to having another child.”

Yazan moaned, “I want you to breed me with your kid, or kids.”

They slowly took each other’s shirts off and continued to make out on their sofa. We’ll clean this up tomorrow, Yazan thought as he took his shorts off and prepared to take Randy’s dick once again in his manpussy.

***

One lazy Saturday morning, Yazan was sitting at the dining table, making sure the kids ate their scrambled eggs and toast. Randy turned around with two plates filled with a classic Yazan breakfast: scrambled eggs, bacon, avocado, salt and pepper and toast.

As Randy put the plate of food down in front of Yazan, Yazan’s nose twitched. He felt a sudden wave of nausea.

“Babe, are you o-”

Yazan ran to the closest bathroom and vomited into the toilet. Randy quickly calmed the kids down then moved across to Yazan in the bathroom. He knocked on the door. “Babe? Are you okay?”

Yazan groaned. Randy opened the door and saw Yazan sitting near the toilet bowl, looking worse for wear.

“Should I run past the pharmacist and get a test?”

The End

Note from Woody: Just want to send a massive thank you to everyone for their lovely words and motivation to get this over the line. It's been a labour of love, so to speak... In particular, a massive thank you to @bigmpregnm for both the morphs and the support!

[kathlare]

out off the bag

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: In the midst of the Emilia Romagna Grand Prix weekend, Lando Norris faces the unexpected challenge of discussing his relationship with Amelie, now very public after their kiss in Miami. As the media and fellow drivers tease him about the newfound attention, Lando navigates the awkwardness with a mix of humor and genuine sentiment for his girlfriend.

Wordcount: 0.7 k

Warnings: just fluff

May 17th, 2024 - Imola, Italy

The Emilia Romagna Grand Prix weekend had officially begun, and Lando Norris stood on the fan stage in front of a cheering crowd of fans, most of whom were eagerly awaiting to hear about the upcoming race. His usual confidence in front of the fans was there, but there was an unmistakable unease in his posture. It had only been a couple of weeks since the race in Miami, where the whole world had found out about his relationship with Amelie—his beautiful, talented, and slightly chaotic girlfriend.

The kiss they shared at the Miami Grand Prix had gone viral almost immediately, sending social media into a frenzy. And now, just thirteen days later, he was standing on stage, trying to answer questions while also processing the fact that this was no longer a secret. Amelie was a part of his life, a very public part of his life.

Lando took a deep breath and looked at the interviewer, who was smiling a bit too mischievously for his liking. The interviewer, a young man with a sharp wit, wasn’t going to let Lando off easy.

—So, Lando,— the interviewer started, drawing the crowd’s attention with his exaggerated enthusiasm, —I think we need to talk about your… new relationship status. It’s been all over the news after Miami. Can you tell us a bit more about how things are going with Amelie?—

Lando’s stomach did a flip. It was only natural that people would ask about it, but now that it was out there, he wasn’t sure how to talk about it publicly. His cheeks flushed slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He was so used to talking about racing, strategy, and the latest car developments—this felt... different.

—Uh, yeah, it’s, uh… going great,— Lando began, shifting on his feet. —We’ve known each other for a while now. Been good friends for a long time, and, uh, things just kind of happened after we started spending more time together last year. But, yeah, Miami definitely… well, I guess it made everything a bit more public.— He chuckled awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood, but the crowd was already roaring with excitement, some fans cheering, others shouting his and Amelie’s names.

As soon as Lando mentioned Miami, the teasing began. Oscar Piastri, who had been standing next to Lando on the stage, smirked and leaned in, nudging him with his elbow.

—Oh, come on, Lando,— Oscar said with a grin, —you can’t just brush off that moment. The whole world watched you two kiss. You really didn’t think you were getting away with keeping it private, did you?—

Lando’s face flushed even more, and he shot Oscar a glare, but it didn’t do much to stop the teasing.

—Yeah, mate,— Alex Albon chimed in from the other side of Lando, his tone dripping with mock sympathy, —you looked like a man in love. Pretty sure I’m still getting tagged in memes about it.—

Logan Sargeant, standing just behind them, couldn’t help but add his two cents.

—You two were basically a real-life rom-com moment. Can you at least admit that?—

Lando groaned, his hands finding their way into his pockets as he tried to steady his racing thoughts. This wasn’t how he expected this whole thing to go.

—Alright, alright, I get it, okay?— Lando said, a nervous laugh escaping him. —But seriously, I’m just trying to talk about the race, yeah?—

The interviewer was clearly enjoying himself, leaning into the banter. He gestured toward Lando and the teasing trio.

—Well, it looks like we’ve got some new fans for Team Lando & Amelie here! But tell me, Lando, what’s it like having your relationship out there for everyone to see now? I mean, Miami was a big deal. There’s been a lot of attention. How are you handling it?—

Lando hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting down for a brief second before he met the crowd’s eyes again.

—Honestly, it’s… it’s weird at first. I’ve been in the spotlight for a long time, but this feels different, you know?— Lando began, trying to find the right words. —Amelie and I, we’ve always been really close. I’ve always admired her, and now that we’re… together, it’s just natural. But yeah, having it all out there for everyone to see is a little overwhelming. It’s not something I ever thought I’d have to talk about so publicly.—

—So what’s the deal with the kiss in Miami, Lando?— the interviewer pressed, smirking.

Lando’s hand shot up in the air in mock surrender.

—It was a spontaneous thing! I mean, we were celebrating, and...uh, well, it just happened! Not everything needs an explanation, right?—

Oscar snorted, shaking his head.

—It’s fine, mate, we’ve all seen it. You looked pretty happy. And I’m sure you didn’t mind the attention. We’ve been getting tagged in Amelie’s posts too, haven’t we? She has a bit of a following herself.—

Alex jumped in with a sly grin.

—Yeah, and don’t forget the constant memes and the romantic captions she puts up. I’m sure she’s loving it just as much as you are, Lando.—

Lando groaned, trying to hide his face behind his hand.

—Alright, alright, you lot are too much right now. Just let me get through this, please? I’ve already said enough about my love life for one day.—

The crowd was absolutely loving the banter, and Lando had to admit, it did make things feel a bit easier. He caught a glimpse of his phone, and for a moment, his thoughts drifted to Amelie. He hadn’t spoken to her in hours, as she was on her way to New York for her Saturday Night Live appearance, but just thinking about her put a smile on his face.

—It’s great though,— Lando added, his voice softening a little. —She’s amazing, and I’m lucky to have her. But we’re both just taking things one day at a time. For now, though, I’ll just stick to racing.— He cleared his throat, trying to shift the conversation back to something more comfortable for him. —Speaking of which, let’s talk about the race weekend. How are you lot feeling about the track?—

The crowd cheered, and just like that, the conversation shifted back to racing, but Lando could still feel the playful teasing hanging in the air. He knew that he couldn’t avoid the subject forever, especially now that Amelie was a part of his world in such a public way.

But at least for now, it was done. And for a brief moment, he could just focus on the race, on the adrenaline of the track. He couldn’t wait for what the weekend would bring.

[umgeorge]

george russell is interviewed during the press conference on media day, las vegas - november 20, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "George, let's come to you now. Brazil last time out seemed like a missed opportunity for you and Mercedes. What lessons were learned?" George: "Yeah, it definitely felt like a missed opportunity. I think, having reviewed the race, you recognize how quickly things can change, and we made the pit stop, which with the perfect benefit of hindsight, that was incorrect. But had that virtual safety car stayed for ten seconds longer or fifteen seconds longer it would have been absolutely the right thing to do. So it just shows how quickly an external decision can change your race and how you need to be very quick to adapt to that, and we kind of were a little bit too focused on that pit stop and not actually seeing that a car that was beached on the road was being pushed off and the VSC was ending." Interviewer: "And how much encouragement do you take from the pace of the car in Brazil; the front row start? I mean, you've had a stack of points finishes since the summer break, but how close are you to having a race winning car again? George: "I mean, Brazil was definitely a bit of a one-off, I think. When it rains, it presents opportunities, and for ourself it was an opportunity. For everyone at Alpine it was a huge opportunity, which they capitalized. And I think we need to look back to the sprint qualifying and the sprint race for a bit of a fairer picture of where we are, and that was behind the front four teams. Interviewer: "George, final one: When you look at this season as a whole, look at the races you've won, but look at also the frustrations as well, how will you review the season?" George: "I think now we've done almost a full season, we totally understand why the car is so up and down. It has just such a narrow window, and when we can set the car up in a way that we exploit that window, we have a race winning car. But when you go to different circuits and you have to change where you position the set-up, we totally fall outside of our working window. So it's obviously frustrating when you know the car has that potential, but I think for everyone you have these fluctuations in performance. We've done a good job to capitalise on races that we did, had the pole positions when the car was capable of pole positions, and ultimately we just need to make a more consistent car over the course of 24 races." Interviewer: "Alright. Thanks to all three of you. Let's now open this to the floor, to the broadcasters first. David."

Journalist: "David Croft, Sky Sports F1. George, to you and with your GPDA hat on, please. In between the last race and this, the FIA have dispensed with the services of Niels Wittich, the Race Director. Is this something that the GPDA were aware of before it happened? Are you concerned that there are three races to go and we now have a new Race Director, especially coming in to a street race like Las Vegas, which we saw last year can have a whole load of unforeseen problems?" George: "Yeah, we definitely weren't aware. It was a bit of a surprise, I think, for everybody, and it's a hell of a lot of pressure now onto the new Race Director; just three races left. So I think for us… Often, as drivers, we probably feel like we're the last to find out this sort of information, and when it involves us kind of directly it would be nice to sort of be kept in the loop and just have an understanding of what decisions are being made. So yeah, time will tell. I'm sure the new guy will handle the position just fine, but definitely not an easy race for a new race director." Interviewer: "Okay. Thanks George. Yep, next one." Journalist: "Nelson Valkenburg, Viaplay. Also for George, but I'd love for you both to chime in, as well. Last week, a pointed statement from the GPDA towards the FIA and especially towards the President. The tone seemed stronger than I expected. Does that reflect the mood in the field of drivers, as well?" George: "I mean, talking as a fellow driver, as opposed to sort of my role with the GPDA, I think everybody felt, with certain things that have happened over the course of this year, that we wanted to sort of stand united. At the end of the day, we just want to be transparent with the FIA and have this dialogue that is happening, and I think the departure of Niels is also a prime example of not being a part of these conversations.

And, ultimately, we want to work with the FIA to make the best for the sport that we all love, so I think it's kind of us now putting the pressure back on them to work with us and work with everyone, including F1 as well, just to maximize this opportunity which Formula 1 is in at the moment, which is an amazing time to be a part of." [time jump] Journalist: "Diego Mejia, Fox Sports. Question to George: I think that the GPDA created an Instagram account to publish this letter. Is there going to be a different way of… Was there a need to make things more public now from the GPDA side when creating this more public forum?" George: "Yeah, well I think times are changing and the fans are a huge part of this sport, and I think if we're talking about openness and transparency and including everybody in this for the greater good, then having it on a social media platform makes perfect sense." Interviewer: "David?" Journalist: "David Croft, Sky Sports. Sorry, George, GPDA public forum, this one. Did you and the GPDA think that the Race Director needed replacing?" George: "I mean, I can only talk on behalf of myself here, as opposed to any of the other drivers, but… Yeah, I think there's no secret that some were not happy with what was going on, in terms of the decisions that were being made. But, at the end of the day, I think if you worked together with us, that we could have helped improve the matter, and I think sometimes just hiring and firing is not the solution. You kind of need to work together to improve the problem. So let's see what this new sort of era is going to bring, but every time there is a change, you have to take one step back before you make the two steps forwards."

[lemotmo]

911 8x08 thoughts and freak outs!

Okay…

Well…

WOW…

OMG!!!

What do I say about this episode? 😶

Uhm…

Well, my first reaction was this: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! 🤣🤣🤣

And I mean this in a very good way! 😏

I’m just going to start with the thing that made me go AAAAAH! In the first place:

Eddie and Chris! That scene was heartbreaking and when Brad talked to ‘Edmundo’ about his estranged son it was a great moment. Eddie has started to realise he has to act NOW, because he son is growing up without him and he doesn’t want that gap to become any wider. 😭

Side-note: Fuck the Diaz parents big time! They suck! 😠

So Eddie decides to move to Texas, which is so very much the wrong thing to do. But I get why he’s considering it. The right thing to do for him would be to go to Texas, talk to Chris and telling him he needs to come home, back to LA. But I don’t think Eddie is ready for that yet. He’ll need some time to get there, but he’ll get there in the end.

Which leads me to that one scene with Buck. And OMG! In the seven years that I’ve been here, shipping Buddie, I’ve seen a lot scenes between them that suggested something more, but it was never really anything concrete… you know? 🤷‍♀️

This scene? It was like being hit over the head with a sledgehammer. Buck just walks into Eddie’s house and Eddie’s okay with that. He’s teasing him about the tablet and Eddie lets him. They know each other through and through. And Buck’s face when Eddie told him it was in El Paso? That was interesting. And of course he wants to help Eddie. It almost feels like they’re buying a house together for a moment there. But then…

Then when Buck’s sitting on the Diaz couch (yes… hello couch theory, great to see you again! 😂), his face falls and there is something there that wasn’t there before. Guys… we just witnessed the very early beginnings of Buck’s ‘OH’ moment. Eddie making plans to move will help Buck realise just how much he truly cares for Eddie. 🥲🥲🥲

So, this is it. This is THAT scene we’ve all been hoping for.

I feel unwell.

In a good way.

The Buddie-arc has officially begun. 😋🌈😁☀️

So unwell right now.

Still in a good way.

But oh… this is going to be such a good hiatus! That scene alone will inspire so many writers to write excellent fic, it will fuel us for months and ignite the fandom to speculate and theorise. It’ll be epic! 😎

I wonder if there’ll actually be a time-jump or they’ll just pick up where they left off after hiatus. 🤔

On to the rest of the episode:

Where was the Maddie storyline they talked about?

Athena’s storyline was actually nice this time. It is entirely possible that something flew over my head when it comes to her scenes as a police officer. But to my non-American eyes, it was a nice storyline. The cart cop kid was a little naive, but he was likeable I suppose. I don’t really enjoy watching people like that on YouTube, but for the show it was okay.

I unexpectedly really enjoyed the Brad storyline. Granted, him rescuing that woman and risking hurting her? That was iffy, but 911 is like HotShots in that respect, you know? We aren’t supposed to take it all ‘that’ seriously. So I can live with that scene. I love the growth in Brad and how he talked that guy from the ledge. Do we think that scene was based on the fact that Jon Bon Jovi talked someone from the ledge a couple of months ago? I think that’s where Tim got his inspiration for this.

So overall, I really enjoyed this episode and I have to admit that I didn’t really expect too much of it. But it managed to surprise me in a few ways. But mostly that Buddie-moment… it just blew my mind. 🤯

I can happily skip into hiatus now. All is right with my fictional TV-show world again.

😎😎😎

I'm off to read the post interviews now and answer some asks in my inbox. YAY!

[hidden-poet]

Poison: part 2

Summary: Coriolanus always hated Sejanus Plinth. He had everything that Coriolanus should of had; money, influence, and you.

Warnings: Coryo being de-lu-lu, unrequited love, Reader insert, dark!Coriolanus snow, unedited, dead dove to not eat

Word count: 15,053

Part 1 here

Part 3 coming.

Coriolaus wakes early the next morning and races to the Citadel to drop off Dr Gauls homework. 

He carried his anxiety about Dr Gauls potential comments along with him to his session with Lucy-Grey. 

He struggled to sit still, twirling his pen around and around in his hand. It was not how he wanted to present himself to Lucy-gray. 

What he wanted was her trust, her loyalty, her obedience. Things that would be hard to gain if he gave off a school-boy impression. 

Instead he forced his nails into the palm of his hand under the table, and tried to focus on Lucy-Gray as she spoke. 

“I am sorry about your friend”, she offered. 

“Thank you”, he returned. 

“That other girl. Was she okay? The guards whisked you away so fast. I couldn’t see-”. 

Something about her asking about you made Coriolanus irritated. 

He supposed it was just the image it brought back. The sheer shock upon your face, the fear that he wouldn’t get to you in time. 

“She’s fine”, he interrupted. His pen began twirling in his hand again. 

He wished he could have seen you this morning to check on you. You most likely woke up in the arms of Sejanus. He wouldn’t check on you like he should. His first words would have been complaints about the games. 

He shouldn’t be here really. Who choses mentoring a boy sure to die rather than taking care of you at home. Coriolanus bet he made no protest when you got ready for school. 

If it had been Coriolanus, as it should be, he would have ensured you stayed home in bed. He wouldn’t have left your side after yesterday. He wouldn’t have even let you be there yesterday. 

First Sejanus causes the wound, and then he isn’t man enough to take care of you properly. How sweet it will be, the day you finally belong to Coriolanus Snow. 

“I need you to sing in these interviews. It’s your last chance to win people over. I can’t send you gifts in the area without their money”, he states. 

“Maybe a guitar could persuade me. Maybe”, Lucy-gray offers. 

“Snow. Dovecote” Dean highbottom calls. 

Coriolanus whips around to see Peacekeepers waiting for them by the door. 

He could piece the clues together to come to the conclusion that Dr Gaul had called them. 

Clemmie on the other hand waited until they were climbing the Citadel steps to ask her obvious question. 

“She can’t actually have expected us to write that report. Could she? I was crying for hours last night”. 

Corionaus sighs. If Clemmie had kept her mouth shut he would have been next to you. You’d be nervous and in need of comfort, no matter how tough you talked.

“We did write it. I handed it in this morning”, he states. 

This time Clemmie sighed, “Great, give me the highlights”. 

Coriolanus obliged her if only to keep his mind focused. His bullet points took him up the entry stairs and through the doorway to Dr Gauls lab.

The lab exceeded coriolanus horrific expectations. 

It was cold and the large space only housed a long corridor of strange creatures in glass cabinets. 

Coriolanus taps the casing of a fish-type creature only to see if it moves. 

Its eyes shoot open only for a second before falling back into a drugged sleepy state. 

What exactly was Dr Gaul doing? What were these things? For what purpose could they be used for? 

“Mr Snow. Ms Dovecote. Come and see my new babies”. Dr Gaul's voice boomed in the empty space.

Coriolaus left the fish, following Clemmie as Dr Gaul led them to a new section and over to a large tank of colorful serpents. 

The rainbow moved within the glass in perfect sync. It was hard to tell where one snake started and another ended. 

“Is there a point to the color?”Clemmie asked. 

Dr Gaul scoffs at her as she ascends the stairs to the top of the glass cage.

“There’s a point to everything, Ms Dovecote, or nothing at all”, Dr Gauls answers. 

She spins to face the children, and rests against the side of the enclosure. 

“I must say I was expecting Miss y/n, in your place Ms Dovecott”. 

“As I said, Dr Gaul, Coriolanus and I do all our assignments together”, Clemmie defended. 

“Which is exactly why I was expecting the other one”. Dr Gauls eyes flick to Coriolanus, “exactly, which part did you write Miss Dovecott?”. 

Coriolanus tries to pull Clemmie out of the hole she was in but Clemmie talks over top of him.

“There was-”.

“I was inspired by Coriolanus, of course. But the sponsorships, and the gifts in the arena. They were all mine”, she cut him off. 

“Clemmie”, he warns. Dr Gaul already knew she played no part. Lying to her would only aggravate her sadistic tenancies. 

Dr Gual takes the bait. Crossing her hands in an almost gleeful manner she addresses Clemmie. 

“So it’s your sweaty handwriting on that page? Very impressive, Miss Dovecote”, Dr Gauls fawns. 

Coriolanus knew it was a tease. He anticipated the come down and the potential consequences of her lie. 

“Unfortunately’, Dr Gaul continues, “My assistant mistook it for trash and lined the shelf of this very terrarium with it”. 

Dr Gaul slides back the hatch to show the students the paper that was trapped between the snakes. 

“Retrieve it for us, won't you? So we might all consider your inspired ideas”, Dr Gaul smiles. 

Coriolanus hand twitched. He imagines you in Clemmies place now. How close he would have pulled you. How his own hands would latch themselves over yours and shield them against your chest. 

He wondered if he should do the same for Clemmie. She was an old friend, and her grades helped him to the top. 

Still he only stood back and watched. Half-Curious as to what would happen. 

The snakes couldn't be poisonous. Dr Gaul wouldn’t play with a students life. Especially a student from a high status family like Clemmie’s. 

Maybe. Coriolanus thinks back to the weird, mutated animals that lined the hallway. There was really no telling what Dr Gaul was capable of. 

“Don’t worry. My little predators are perfectly docile with those they can trust. So if they’re used to your scent, if you’ve handled their food, for example, or if they have inhaled the sweat of your palm on a page..they’ll leave you alone. If not, You’d be on your own, little girl”. 

Coriolanus knew from her words that Dr Gaul words were a threat. Those Snakes would harm Clemmie. 

Yet she reached her hand into the enclosure. 

“Clemmie!” Coriolanus grits. 

He is ignored to her own peril. 

As soon as her hand brushes against the edge of the page, a Snake lashes out and strikes the flesh that proposes to retrieve the paper. 

Clemmie screams upon impact. Trying desperately to shake the snake from her hand, she loses balance and topples off the stand. 

“Clemmie! No, no!” Coriolanus attempts to catch her as she falls, but Dr Gaul hinders him by pulling him back by his arm. 

She lands with a heavy thud on her back. Gasps fill the air as she tires to regain her breath. 

Already she looked pale. The skin on her hand turned a pale green color, and her eyes refused to blink or look anywhere else but directly in front of her. 

“You asked about the colors, Ms Dovecott.  I want my enemies to see a rainbow of destruction engulfing the world. I am not above using spectacle to create a little terror. A strategy your classmate here articulated very well in his proposal”. 

Coriolanus watches as two peacekeepers and assistant come running over. The assistant administered a large needle which helped Clemmie regain her breath but not her composition. 

The Peacekeepers then, without care, began to drag Clemmie across the floor and out a near door. 

Coriolanus was left alone with Dr Gaul who turned her attention to him. 

“I wonder if y/n would have chosen the same decision?”, she questioned. 

“Will she die?” Coriolanus asked in a hard tone. More than Dr Gaul mentioning you, he hated the image of you lying in Clemmies place. 

Dr Gaul shrugs her shoulders as if it didn’t really matter. 

“The pleasure of breaking ground in one’s research is one gets to find out”, she dismissed. 

She smirks as she turns back to the enclosure. Her hand reaches in and she begins to play with her pet snakes. 

“You don’t like me talking about her do you?”, Dr Gaul picks up a loose piece of paper and thrusts it at Coriolanus, “for a boy who came up with these proposals, you sure do wear your heart on your sleeve”. 

The paper crumbles in Coriolanus' grip. He looks at it to avoid eye contact with Dr Gaul. 

“What would Miss y/n think if she saw them? They’re good, these proposals. I am planning to implement as many as possible”. 

This causes Coriolanus to look up at Dr Gaul. If you knew, you were sure to never forgive him. 

“Don’t worry” Dr Gaul said, as if she could read his mind, “I’ll take credit for this one. Miss y/n is yet to realize her place in this world”. 

Dr Gaul closes the hatch to the snakes enclosure, turning her body towards Coriolanus. 

“And who is to be beside her, wouldn’t you say?”, she taunts. 

Coriolanus straightens up, dropping the ruined paper to the ground. 

“Y/n isn’t part of this conversation”, Coriolanus snaps.

Dr Gaul grins at him in response, stepping closer so she could talk quieter but still be heard. 

“We both want a new world, Mr Snow. My only question is how far are you willing to go to get it?’

She doesn’t let him answer. Seemingly, now bored of the conversation. 

“Now run along, you have an arena to promote and it’s time for my milk and crackers”, she dismisses. 

He takes the chance to leave. Storming down the steps and back along the hallway as fast as he could. 

Coriolanus tries to keep himself from running out of the Citadel. He nearly stumbles over his feet trying to get out as quick as he can. 

Turning behind him every so often to make sure no one was following him. 

The whole scene plays in his mind again and again. 

He was glad it wasn’t you in the end. You were already so traumatized after yesterday, it was a relief to not have to put you through that ordeal. 

The walk through of the arena was not for another hour. He had time to check on you. 

He was sure you were at school. Your parents wouldn’t let Sejanus into the house, and you wouldn’t have left Sejanus after yesterday. There was little chance you would have stayed at the Plinths. A smaller chance of Sejanus forcing you to as he should have. 

Suddenly, Sejanus’ lack of care turned out to be a good thing. 

Sejanus would be with his mentor getting ready for the tour. Which meant Coriolanus could see you without company. 

He knew your class schedule well. He liked the knowledge while he was in one class, he knew which one you were in. 

So he knew where to go and wait until the bell rang. 

A group of people rushed out of the classroom before you. You were the only one walking alone so you were easy to spot. 

You almost walk past him but he grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the line of people to a quiet staircase. 

“Coriolanus?” you question. 

You don’t fight him as he pulls you against the wall and stands in front of you like a shield. 

The people who walk past eye the scene but make nothing of it. 

“Coriolanus, are you okay?” you question. 

He couldn’t tell you about Clemmie and Dr Gaul but he was also so desperate for comfort. 

“Is it Arachne?” you ask. He nods his head ‘yes’ although his mind was far from it. 

You put your hand that was free from the weight of your books on his shoulder. 

“It’s not your fault’’, you console. 

“I just wish I could have done more”, he lied. 

He had thought little about Arachne since last night. But she was once again bringing you closer to him.

You shake your head, a sad expression pulls across your face and he instantly regrets his lie. Yesterday was traumatic to you, he shouldn't have played it up just for some sympathy. 

“No” you repeat, “what happened was no one's fault but her own”.

He wanted to make the argument that perhaps the fault lies with no one else but the tribute, but it would open a conversation he did not want to have. 

Instead he reaches up and places his hand on your elbow that had reached out to him.  

“Are you okay?” he asks. It should have been his first question.

“I am fine” you say. 

Your hand drops from his shoulder and he is forced to put his hand on the brick wall next to your hip. 

The position wedged you in a corner. With his tall frame towering over you and now his arm blocking you in. It felt as if you were trapped. 

“You should talk to someone. Arachne was your friend”, you state.

You shuffle slightly forward to hint to him that he was too close but he remains stagnant in his place. 

“Arachne was not my friend”, he deflects. 

You never liked her which meant Coriolanus never liked her. 

“You're my friend. Arachne was just someone I grew up with. I hardly knew her”, Coriolanus tried a softer tone as his previous speech came off harder than intended. 

He offered a kind smile that you did not return. 

“I’ve been worried about you all day” he breathes. 

His hand moves to your hip, and you are quick to push it off. 

“Coriolanus you are acting strange, perhaps you should go see the school doctor. No one would blame you if you chose to drop out of mentoring after yesterday”. 

Strange you called it. Not a man desperately in love. But a mad man that needs to be taken away. 

This causes him to take a step back away from you. His eyes go down to the ground but shoot back up at you. Mentoring. In a haste he checks his watch. 

He was supposed to be at the Arena in fifteen minutes but he is twenty minutes away. 

He groans, cursing the length of the Citadel from here, and cursing your late class.

 “I have to leave”, he says, “i just came to make sure you were okay”. 

“I am”, you acknowledge. 

He steps forward again, placing his hands on your shoulder blades and pulling you forward into his chest. 

You stumble into him, timidly raising your hands to pat his lower back. 

“Forget your last class, you should go home”, he begs. 

He feels you push back against him so he lets you go and takes a step back. 

“You should worry more about yourself. You look so pale”. 

When you reach out to touch his forehead, he leans into your touch. Loving the way your little warm hand felt. 

He knew it didn’t mean anything. You were kind. He could have been anyone and you would have done the same thing. 

Still he allows himself a second of pretend that it meant more. 

“I have to go”, he says again, “Just promise me that you’ll go home”.

“Sure, Coriolanus”, you amuse. 

It was enough to hear it. He didn’t need to believe it. 

With a final smile, he reaches up to touch your elbow once more and leaves you in the dark corner. 

His run to the arena would have been easier for him if he had any fuel to burn.

His breakfast of a single potato did not provide enough energy to make the distance, yet he pushed himself further than his body wanted him to. 

It paid off when he reached the arena just in time for walk-in. 

He filed in next to Lucy-Grey seconds before the doors opened. 

“I didn’t think you were going to make it”, lucy-Grey admits. 

“We’re going to win this” Coriolanus vows, “Together”. 

The arena is dark. An ominous red glow from the ticket vendor invites them in. 

The camera crew are already there, pointing their large frames in the faces of the tributes. 

Lucy-Grey smiles at it, before it pans to a Solomon looking Sejanus walking behind his tribute.

When the shutters open, the streaming light startles Lucy-Grey who pulls back against Coriolanus. 

He steadies her, looking around for possible strategies. 

“Please” Lucy-Grey grabs his arm to turn him towards her, “Please, Coriolanus, don’t let me die in here tomorrow”.

Before he can answer he is knocked off his feet by a large explosion. He feels heavy gusts of wind from three other directions meaning there was no safe direction he could turn too. 

Lucy-Grey lands beside him, and he scrambles to help her to her feet. 

The dust is heavy and clouds them. He could feel lucy-gray in his grasp but could only faintly see her.  The screams and commotion make it impossible to hear what she is trying to say. 

Another loud explosion tore the roof down over them. 

He releases Lucy-gray so they could both run for cover. 

Days of the war spring to his memory. The rebels were back to finish him off. 

The force of the explosion knocked him off balance and onto the floor. 

He could see peoples feet as they scramble past but none stop to help him. 

A louder, cracking noise spoke of his bigger issue and he turns to see a large pailing coming down towards him. 

Knowing he wouldn't have enough time to get to his feet, he began to crawl as fast as he could. 

It wasn’t fast enough. The hot metal pailing pins his shoulder to the ground. He could smell his own flesh burning as he lay trapped. 

Was this how it ended? He regrets not kissing you today. He had always been reserved. Afraid of your rejection. But he should have just took. Now he’ll die without ever getting to taste you. 

Through the smoke he could see Lucy-Grays boots come into view. 

“Help me” he begs. He still had so much to do. 

She looks to be bending down to assist when she is interrupted by Marcus flying across towards the open door. 

“Leave him” he demands, “He wouldn’t save you”. 

Marcus doesn’t stick around for her decision. Running to his freedom just across the room. 

It was true, if it come down to it Coriolanus would save himself. But Lucy-Gray needed him to survive. She would only get caught in the Capitol and then thrown in the area without a mentor. 

She must have realized that too because she bent back down to lift the burning metal off Coriolanus. She didn’t have to lift it far for Coriolanus to roll out from under it.

He is panting heavily he realizes, and is unable to move his shoulder.When Peacekeeper came to take lucy-gray away. Coriolanus couldn’t even rise from the floor to stop them. 

He throws out his good hand in an attempt to do something. But the searing pain in his shoulder and his cloudy head hindered him from being able to help. 

The last image he could see was her looking down at her burnt hands before it all went black. 

His pounding headache woke him to the sight of you by his bed. 

He didn’t believe it. He had to be dead. 

His hand lashes out to take a hold of your wrist. You felt real. 

Your reaction seemed real. A startled look of surprise and discomfort. 

“Woah, Corio, take it slow”, the voice of Tigres calls to him. 

He looks away from your face to see Tigres sitting in the chair next to you. 

“What?” Coriolanus questioned, “What happened?”. 

He lets go of your wrist only so he could rise from the bed. The ache in his shoulder becoming more apparent as he moved. 

“It was a rebel bombing. They must have been planning it for months. Four tributes were killed”. 

Coriolanus almost scowls hearing his voice. 

Sejanus sat in a chair positioned on the other side of the bed. You hadn’t come to him in his hour of need. You were merely tagging along with your boyfriend. 

“Everyone is terrified, Corio” Tigres explains, “Fliex Ravenstill is on life support”. 

“The rebels released a message. They said they want to tear down the symbol of the Hunger Games. Marcus got out. He’s the only one. Peacekeepers are hunting him in the streets but at least he has a better chance out there than he would tomorrow”, Sejanus gravely mutters. 

“Tomorrow?” Coriolanus expounds, “They’re not still going ahead with the Games?”

“We can’t look weak in front of the enemy,” you spat, “Everything is going ahead as scheduled. I don’t even know if Lucy-Gray will be able to play tonight”.

“The interviews”, Coriolanus guessed, still hazy. 

He pulls himself up out of bed, holding out his arm for you to help his rise. 

You do, automatically, hooking his good arm over your shoulder and wrapping your arm across his waist to keep him up. 

‘‘You shouldn’t get out of bed”, you criticize him. 

Normally he wouldn’t ignore you, but the interviews started fifty minutes ago. 

Sejanus rises to in order to assist Coriolanus as he shuffles forward, but Coriolanus barks another order at him. 

“Sejanus, turn the Tv to the interviews”. 

Like a good dog, he obeys. Leaving another man hanging onto his girlfriend. 

“Careful, Corio” Tigres directs. 

Coriolanus takes tigres arm as he couldn’t lift his shoulder so all his weight wasn’t passed on to you. 

The Tv turns just in time to watch Lucy-gray come out with a guitar, and a big smile. 

Sejanus makes his way over to you, offering to take your place as Coriolanus’ anchor. 

He is quick to speak for you. Stating that the change would topple him to the floor. 

Sejanus relents and takes his place beside you. You made no complaints so Coriolanus’ weight couldn’t have been hurting you. 

Coriolanus had missed the opening introduction due to Sejanus, but was now focused enough as Lucy-Gray went into her song. 

“Where did she get the guitar?” Coriolanus asks. He had been too busy to organize her one before the bombing. 

“I brought it for her”, you answer, “i went to see if she was okay after the bombing and she said she needed a guitar for her interview. Said she’ll feel naked without it”. 

“Thank you. That was very kind”, Coriolanus commended softly. 

Coriolanus always knew someday that you and him would make a great team.

Your eyes are trained on Lucy-gray, and Coriolanus followed suit. 

She sang about a boy back home and a betrayal. Was that what she was referring to when she said it was complicated back home. Will she fight with everything she had in her or does she secretly hope that she will die just to spite her past lover. 

It was additional stress Coriolanus could have lived without. 

“The poor girl” you mutter with tears rolling down your face. 

Coriolanus squeezes your shoulders in comfort. 

‘She’ll be okay” he promises. He would ensure it for his own survival and your personal satisfaction now that you and his tribute were friendly. 

“Thank you for being here”, he says looking down at you, before turning his sights to Tigres, “All of you”. 

“It’s what friends do”, Sejanus answers. The only person Coriolanus was not speaking to. 

“I don’t think you should be standing”, you say, trying to turn Coriolanus back to bed. 

He allows you to lead him there where you tuck him back into bed. 

You ruin the moment by going straight back into Sejanus’ arms once Coriolanus has settled. 

“We’ll leave you to rest” Sejanus states. 

He looked too unhappy for a man who held you in his arms. 

“Goodnight” he bids, ‘and y/n, thank you for helping Lucy-Gray tonight”.

Her performance wouldn't have been half as moving with the soft, sad melody accompanying it. 

“Good luck, Coriolanus. I hope she wins”, you remark. 

With the Plinth prize and the love of his life on the line; lucy-gray was going to be the 10th annual winner of the Hunger Games. 

Coriolanus just had to figure out how to give her a competitive edge. 

He visited the zoo later that night after scouting out the new arena. With four tributes already dead and the new tunnels revealed, the bombing may have been the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

“Lucy-gray!” he calls softly, “Lucy-gray!”

He can hear the pounding of her footsteps as they come closer. He checks for Guards and woken tributes as she made unnecessary noise. None were aroused so he remained in his spot. 

“You’re alive!” She exclaims as she nears the fence. 

“Those bombs have changed everything”, he wastes no time to explain his purpose here, “They blew the walls out. So that means you can escape up into the stands. Theres a hole down in the floor, it leads down to some tunnels. You can escape there, I tried it.So the moment you hear that bell ring, you run as fast as you can for that hole and find a palace to hide down below alone”. 

‘Alone? No, jessups my friend”, she argues. 

He shakes his head ‘no’. 

“The moment that bell rings, you can’t trust anyone. Not even jessup. Just lay low down there until its safe to come out”, he demands. 

Couldn't she see that she was risking not only her own life, but his, with her undying loyalty. 

“Thank you. You and y/n have been so nice to me. I don’t know what I would have done without you both”, Lucy-Grey declares, “I don’t know how i’ll ever pay you back for your kindness”. 

“You can win”, Coriolanus orders, “you winning will be life changing for y/n and I. We can finally live the life we want to live. When you win, you’ll win for all of us”. 

‘I’ll try, but-” she begins but never finishes as Coriolanus cuts her off. 

“Theres no ‘buts’. Theres no other option”, he asserts. 

Lucy-Gray begins to cry from the pressure of it all. 

“Hey”, he whispers in sympathy. 

“I am sorry. I am more hopeful in the day light but when it gets to night”, she whimpers. 

“It’s okay” he consoles, reaching for his handkerchief in his pocket. The same one he used to wipe your tears, he now used to wipe the tears of Lucy-gray. 

“We are going to win, Lucy-Gray. I promise.”.

“Y/n, real lucky to have a friend like you” Lucy-gray comments. 

He knew that. Who else would be willing to risk everything for your happiness. It didn’t even bother him that Lucy-gray referred to him as your friend. 

All that matters is that someone else realizes the depth of his love. 

“I am very lucky to have her”. He breaths. He was cautious to say too much.

“Look, that song, I need to know that you are serious about winning”, he demands. 

“That song? That was just pay back, that’s all”, she defenders, “my old boyfriend Billy taupe was cheating on me with the mayor's daughter. She got crazy jealous, had her pa read my name out on stage, and now everyone will know what they did to me”.

The look upon her face told him that she was serious, so he reached into his breast pocket to pull out his most prized possession. 

“Here” he shoves the compact into Lucy’s-Grays hand.

“I can’t” she resists, “It’s too fine”

He clasps his hands over hers to stop her passing it back. 

“It’s not a gift. It’s a loan. His large hands wrap entirely around Lucy-Gray’s little fingers. 

“Whats in here, don’t touch it. Don’t even breathe it in because small amounts can be deadly”. 

He could faintly see Lucy-gray staring back at him in the dark. Her big brown eyes caught the lighting of the Zoo and shined back at him. 

“I have seen what war does to people, okay?”, he lectures, “I’ve seen it, and there will come a time when you need this, when you need to act. We all do things we’re not proud of to survive.”

Unexpectedly she brings her head forward to bars in an attempt to kiss him. He lowers his head slightly to dissuade her. 

The last thing he needed was word getting back to you through a Tribute pretending to be asleep, or just his poor luck to have a Capitol citizen decide to visit the Zoo at the exact moment of weakness. 

“I am sorry”, she gasps, “you said it was complicated with y/n, and y/n said she was with Sejanus so I”. 

She doesn’t finish her sentence, too embarrassed. 

Coriolanus shakes it off like it was nothing, in an attempt to ease her. 

“It’s fine. I just”, Coriolanus wasn’t sure what to say. 

You were with Sejanus. There was no real reason why he couldn’t kiss lucy-gray. 

It was mis-guided loyalty to a woman who kissed another man. Sometimes right in front of Coriolanus. 

Still it didn’t feel right. He wanted you to be the only person he kissed. 

“It’s”, Coriolanus begins. 

“Complicated”, Lucy-Gray finishes. 

Coriolanus moves closer, bringing his head as far as he could to the bars.

“We’re gonna win this Lucy-Gray. We’re gonna win this together. I’m going to get you home, back to the Covery, okay? I promise”. 

Coriolanus looks at his victor. His dog in the race. He’s bet it all on her, and he’ll be damned if she was going to let him down.

The morning of the Games, Coriolanus couldn’t even eat his cabbage soup that Tigres had worked so hard to prepare. 

He kisses Grandma’am and Tigress goodbye before beginning his long journey to school. 

There would be cameras and crowds of people. He had to look composed, but inside he felt the most scared he had ever been. 

The feeling eased seeing you across the auditorium. 

Your hair was down, and your uniform looked freshly pressed. Sejanus held you by the waist as you spoke to him, and you rested your hands on top of his. 

It didn’t matter you were here for Coriolanus just as much as you were for Sejanus. His tribute wasn’t even participating. If anything you had come to support Coriolanus and Lucy-Gray. 

“Coryo!” Sejanus called for him as he approached the mentors chairs. 

Sejanus lets go of you, which is something Coriolanus would never do, to place a hand on Coriolanus shoulder. 

“Hey” Coriolanus greets. His eyes remain on you and how you smile at him. 

“How you doing?  You alright?” Sejanus asks. 

“Better”, Coriolanus dismisses. 

He sees a photographer approaching from the corner of his eye, and takes the opportunity to take a step back to invite you between Sejanus and himself. 

With a hand on your lower back, he propels you forward. The hand remains as you shuffle next to him. 

“Over here please!”, the man with the large camera calls. 

Coriolanus smiles at the camera, and he hoped you were too. The flash blinds him, and your smiles fades too fast to be certain it ever was really there. 

“How are you this morning?”, Coriolanus asks softly. 

“Not about to be forced to fight to the death”, you snap.

You don’t look at him as you speak as you often choose not to do. 

“Here we go. Here we go, everyone, come on”, Lucky flickerman diverts people back to their seats, before Coriolanus has the opportunity to comfort you.

Sejanus' large hand goes to the back of your neck, and he leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“Wait for me over there?” he asks, flicking his head to the nearest bleacher to his seat. 

It was the furthest from Coriolanus’ seat, but you nod in agreement and move to his direction. 

Coriolanus is ushered into his own seat. He has to crane his neck to look at you sitting on the end of the bleacher all by yourself. He hates to see you as a social out-cast. 

“Five, four, three, two”, the music signals the start of Lucky Flickerman's introduction. 

Coriolanus ignores him mostly. Turning in his chair to watch you engrossed in the large television in front of you. 

Your hands grip the seat underneath you. He would give anything to be able to comfort you. 

He wanted to tell you that it was all going to be okay. If he sat you where he wanted, he would have been able to hold your hand, but Sejanus had put distance between you and him, so he would have to watch from afar. 

Suddenly you gasp, bring your hand up to your mouth with a frightened expression. 

Coriolanus turns back to the screens to see what could have caused such a reaction. 

They had found Marcus and left him strung up and half-alive in the arena. It was cruel even for Coriolanus. 

You shouldn’t have had to see that. Coriolanus wished he could have protected you from it. A district boy taught a lesson, at the expense of your poor, soft heart. 

You’ll be crying about it for weeks with only Sejanus for consolation. 

Coriolanus wasn’t sure who would be comforting who with the way Sejanus jumped from his chair. 

As soon as he is out of it, the chair was flying across the room. Only stopping when it hits the force of the wall. 

“You’re monsters! All of you!” He screams to the audience. 

He storms past Lucky flickerman who begins the countdown to the Games as if Sejanus had never existed at all. 

Coriolanus gets up, rushing over to you as you rise to follow Sejanus. 

He manages to catch your arm just as you make it to the exit way. 

The scene was out of the line of camera-shot. Past the first three rows of seats, and hidden by the depth of the stands. 

Coriolanus felt hidden enough to not let go of your arm, despite you struggling against him. 

You turn back to see how had stopped you with an angry expression, but it doesn’t soften when you see it’s him. 

“Don’t”, he begs. He wanted you to stay and support him. 

It didn’t matter if you knew it or not, but you were his biggest comfort, and that’s what he needed as he watched Lucy-Gray fight for his life. 

You don’t listen to him, tugging your arm out of his grip and chasing after Sejanus without looking back. 

Coriolanus watches as you go with a heavy breath.

‘And they’re off!” Lucky announces. 

Coriolanus turns to watch Lucy-Gray run from her mark.

“Run”, he demands softly. He takes a few steps forward but is halted when Lucy-Gray remains in the same spot, looking around. 

“What are you doing? Run” he groans. 

He staggers back to his seat, gripping the plastic back tightly in his hand. 

His eyes shut when Lucy-Gray narrowly avoids a strike from Reaper.  

Why won’t anyone ever listen to him, he wondered. 

A district 2 kid gets slaughtered which gains the Cameras full attention. When it pans back to a field shot, Lucy-Gray was crossing the broken fragments with Coral hot on her heels. 

Coriolanus felt the need to take a seat as he watched. A few of his eliminated classmates wished him well as they left, but Coriolanus remained slumped against his hand. 

It wasn’t until she had gathered Jessup and began racing for the hole in the ground that Coriolanus lifted his head again. 

“Go, go, go”, he muttered. The pack was closing in. Hell bent on taking out Lucy-gray. 

They almost manage to, but Lucy-Gray slips through the broken door, and a squabble prohibits the hunters coming in. 

He sighs. At least she was safe for now. He would worry about Jessup when it came time for it. Whats the point of worrying now? It was still anybody's game. He could very well die within the next hour from a surprise attack. 

Coriolanus squirms in his seat watching as another child is hacked apart by dull weapons. 

He pushes it from his mind as soon as the camera shifts. Lucy-Gray was safe, thats all that mattered. She still has a shot at winning. 

Nothing more happened. All the tributes found shelter in one corner or another. Only Reaper paced the opened space, willing someone to come attack him. 

Coriolanus wonders if you will be back. He hoped you would come check on him. 

Coriolanus rises his head to the screen once more as Lamina makes her way up the broken fragments to where Marcus hung. Reaper gave her space, seemingly knowing what she was doing. 

A small conversation between the two preceded Lamina swinging her axe down. 

Coriolanus shudders hearing the impact. He hoped you didn’t see that. 

He could only imagine the sobbing it would cause. 

Lamina cuts marcus down and he falls like a bag of bricks. 

She gazes down at him. Coriolanus couldn’t tell if it was in remorse, or in quiet pride of giving him a merciful death.

The sound of the drone coming near broke her concentration. The water attached swung in the air as it flew too fast towards her. She rose, reaching out to catch it. 

Coriolanus almost laughed when it drove straight past her and smashed into the rocks. 

The night dragged on, but Coriolanus remained. Eyes glued to the screen in hope of a glance of Lucy-Gray. 

The camera stayed mainly above ground where the action was, but sometimes he got a dash at what Lucy-Gray was doing. 

She was still alive. Or at least was, ten minutes ago. 

The other mentors, and most of the audience had left as the night bled. 

Nothing had really happened for hours. A squabble or a chase here and there but most of the fight had left the tributes. 

“If only you could trap y/n as easily as you have trapped that poor girl”, Dean Highbottoms voice surprised Coriolanus.

“I’ve trapped her?”Coriolanus fought, “I didn’t create the Games”.

He saw Dean Highbottom flinch ever so slightly. If he hadn't been looking so intensely, he would have missed it. 

“No”, Highbottom concedes, “but you’ve fueled its continuance. You’ve turned dying children into spectacles , Mr Snow. Congratulations”.

Coriolanus ignores him, turning back to the screens. 

“Are you honestly hoping that winning the plinth prize will win you the girl?”, Dean Highbottom mocks. 

“I am hoping my hard work will pay off”, Coriolanus bites. 

“I saw you before with miss y/n, trying to stop her from leaving”. 

“I was trying to stop her from making a fool out of herself”.

“What do you want from that poor girl?”. 

Coriolanus knew there was no point in lying. Dean Highbottom had already figured out Coriolanus’ intentions. 

“Only whats best”, he answers. 

“Hm and you think winning the Plinth prize will help you decide what is best for her?”, Hightbom begins to laugh, his voice taking on a sing-songy tone, “Wake up mr Snow. Who do you think decides? Even if your songbird wins, I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you don’t see a single dime of that prize money’. 

Coriolanus turns back to Highbottom with his anger logged in his throat.

The older man smiles back. Coriolanus knew the man was trying to get him to slip up. But his aggravation won’t lose him the prize. If Highbottom wanted it, he would have to rip it from Coriolanus’s hands. 

Instead he turns back to the screen. Lucy-gray was still underground, feeding Jessup water. 

He could hear Dean Highbottom walking away which left him with a small victory. 

Coriolanus takes a deep breath, and sits straightener in his chair. 

It wasn’t over. Dean Highbottom wasn’t the only authority. When Coriolanus won, surely Dr Gaul would fight for him. The other teachers too. The star pupil robbed of the victory? Coriolanus would see to an up roar. 

At some point Coriolanus began to doze off. The late night and the slow turn of events left him the last one in the auditorium. The quietness of it all had his eyes shutting.

“Coriolanus?”. He heard your voice call. 

He ignores it ,sure it was a dream. But you tap his arm, and his eyes shoot open to see you standing in front of him. 

You were still in your school uniform, your hair slightly more messy than a couple of hours prior and you looked on the verge of tears. 

It panicked him greatly to see you in such a state. 

He reaches out, quickly taking your wrist in his hold. 

“Huh, what happened? Are you okay?”, he asks. 

“Has Sejanus been here?”, you quake. 

Coriolanus shakes his head ‘no’. 

He could have rolled his eyes. Of course, Sejanus was behind your tears once more. Coriolanus had never made you cry. 

“Why would he be here?”, Coriolanus asks. It seemed an unlikely place to visit while his old friend lay dead on several different screens.

Tears begin to roll down your cheeks causing Coriolanus to spring up, attempting to bring you in his arms. You push him away, keeping an arms length distance between you both. 

“I thought maybe he would come see you. We were sleeping and I woke up, and he was gone”, you explain with a shaky breath, “I don’t know where he could have went, Coriolanus. He’s not in a good place. I am worried-”

“Not in a good place, indeed” Dr Gauls voice booms through the open space. 

This time when Coriolanus touched you, he was given permission. He pulls you next to him to face Dr Gaul together. 

Dr Gaul was disinterested in the couple, taking the master remote and turning all the channels  to the same camera. 

“Sejanus!”, you gasp upon seeing your boyfriend knelt down next to his old friend in the arena. 

Your hand takes a hold of Coriolanus' arm in a tight grip. Your painted nails dig into his uniform jacket. 

“Breadcrumbs” Dr Gaul annotates while the room watches Sejanus spread the food over his friend, “I believe substance for a fallen comrade in his final journey. A district 2 superstition”. 

“How did he get in there?” you question, never once tearing your eyes from the screen. 

“I’ll work on finding the peacekeeper he bribed to let him in, and remove his tongue”, Dr Gual snarls, “in the meantime I need you to get him out right now”. 

Dr Gaul looked directly at you which spiked Coriolanus heart rate, 

“You should send Peacekeepers in”, he demanded. There was no way you were joining Sejanus in the arena. 

“Only to have him bolt and hide like a rabbit?”, Dr Gaul retorts. “Fleix Ravenstill is fighting for his life in a hospital bed, Mr Snow. I will not have these rebels make a further mockery of my games. Anyone sees us lose control of this arena, it might as well be sounding a horn to the districts to revolt!”. 

Dr Gaul takes a breath, trying to regain the composure lost. She turns her sight back on you, who had dropped Coriolanus' arm during her speech. 

You stood brave, staring straight back at her with discontempt. 

“You choose to be lovers with the radical. Don’t you want him out?”, Dr Gaul gages you. 

Coriolanus steps forward trying to take Dr Gauls attention away from you. 

‘‘Sending her into the arena will get her killed. It’ll look a lot worse if the tributes kill two Capitol students”, Coriolanus justifies. 

“A volunteer then?”,Dr Gual pushes.

“I’ll go”, You say too quickly, “I can get him out”.

“I’ll go”, Coriolanus declares. 

The mere thought of you in the arena left a sick feeling in his stomach. He wouldn’t watch helplessly on the other side of the screen while you risked your life for Sejanus. 

He couldn’t believe Sejanus had put you in this position. Coriolanus’s every move was calculated with you in mind. 

It was pure luck that you had chosen to seek Coriolanus out. If you hadn’t he would have woken the next morning to see you dead in the arena next to Sejanus. 

He would go into the arena to save Sejanus if it meant saving you. 

“No!” you protested, once again grabbing hold of Coriolanus arm to pull him back. 

He turns to you with a look of irritation on his face. 

“What chance do you think you stand if one of the tributes decide to attack? I am stronger, faster”, Coriolanus explained. He hated being irritated at you, but you wouldn’t see sense, “I’ll get him out, y/n. I promise”. 

“Unless you are both secretly hoping he’ll die in that arena, we need to move fast”, Dr Gaul utters.

Her expression had changed from one of anger to quiet amusement, but she had not forgotten the task at hand. 

She turns, expecting the children to follow her as she talks. Coriolanus follows suit, leading you as you wrap yourself around his arm. 

He would have shaken you off. You had no place being even near the arena, let alone outside of its gates, but he loved the way you clung to him. 

Your tight hold told him you would fight if he tried to leave you. Really it was the way you should be holding him. Not just now, in a state of emergency. 

“I’ll freeze the feed for one hour”, Dr Gaul says as she moves out of the school, “I expect thats all the time we have until someone notices”. 

A Peacekeeper van is waiting down the steps of the school. Dr Gaul jumps in, leaving the back of the van open for the children. 

Coriolanus helps you up into the back of the van before lifting himself up behind you. The doors are closed shut as he enters, and the van takes off before he is fully sat next to you.

You are unusually quiet. Coriolanus could tell you were scared from the way you sat. Arms crossed across your chest, looking straight ahead of you with a glazed look. 

Coriolanus places a hand on your knee in comfort but you don’t seem to register it. 

He tries not to mind Dr Gauls' searing stare from the other bench. He focuses on you and your state of worry. 

You begin to chew your lip absentmindedly. He wanted to pull it from between your teeth to get you to stop, but the van lurched forward as it stopped. 

The drive wasn’t long, but the peacekeeper sped to it anyway. 

As the doors are pulled open, Coriolanus takes a deep breath. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't be beaten to death by a tribute trying to save a man he loathed. 

Grandma’am and Tigres wouldn’t survive without him, but if he died, he would at least make sure Sejanus died along with him. 

If he couldn't have you, Sejanus definitely couldn’t. 

“Lets go, Mr Snow”, Dr Gual urges. 

She jumps out first. Coriolanus could hear her directing the Peacekeepers on what was about to happen. 

You rise with Coriolanus. But He doesn’t allow you to get to the door as he does. 

He jumps down and spins, placing his hand on the doors and bringing them closer together. 

"Stay in the van”, he orders. 

Surely, even on the off chance that a tribute managed to get through the gates, you would be safe in a locked van. 

You nod your head in understanding, trying to ease his worry. 

It doesn’t work but he appreciates it anyway. 

He smiles up at you, taking the time to have a good look at you in case it was his last time. 

With the doors shut on you, he could focus more clearly. He wasn’t going to die in that arena. He wasn’t going to die by a district hand. 

He was going to get out alive. You were going to wake up to yourself and realise that you had been hopelessly in love with Coriolanus this whole time. 

The gates are unlocked and he feels his confidence waver. Nevertheless, he persits with his mission and with a careful step he enters the arena. 

It’s dark and quiet. The moonlight does little to help. A tribute could jump out at any time and Coriolanus would never see them coming. 

He was cautious to make any sounds,  stepping softly on the fragmented rocks. 

The gate makes it stupid welcome message as he passes through it under the belief the game makers would have been smart enough to disable it. 

His breath gets caught in his throat while waiting to see who it attracts. He doesn’t move. 

He feels the blood rush to his ears, and his body ready itself to fight. No one comes. 

Coriolanus’s eyes scan the room for whatever movement he could pick up on. It seemed there was none. 

With a shaky breath he attempts to continue on, when his heightened ears pick up on a scuffle behind him. 

He spins quickly, ready to dodge an attack. He wished it had been a tribute, and not you trying to climb over the turn stalls. 

On its own accord, his face scrunches in anger. His footsteps are louder than he liked as he stormed over to you. 

He takes your hips into what he was sure was a painful hold, and looks past you to see they had already locked the gate. You were now trapped in here with angry Tributes with nothing to lose. 

Previously, he had never thought it possible to be angry with you. Now he wanted to scream in your face until you cried. 

He helps you down, softly to the ground, and catches your hand harshly in his. 

“You’re an idiot”, he whispers, “Stay close”. 

He squeezes your fingers into the palm of his hand, but you make no complaint as you follow him into the arena. 

Coriolanus felt his anxiety and senses heightened. He could faintly see Sejanus in the moonlight still knelt on the ground next to Marcus. 

He felt you pull against his hold as you near Sejanus, but he refuses to let you go an inch. 

If there was a tribute lurking he wanted to know where you were. 

“Sejanus”, you whisper when you are within earshot. 

He spins straight away upon hearing you. The panic he should have had all along, comes crashing all at once. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost as he rose from the floor. 

‘What are you doing here?”, he questions in a strained, soft voice. 

Sejanus takes your arms in his hands. Coriolanus wanted to yank you out of his hold, but a squabble would cause unnecessary attention. 

“Get her out of here, Coryo”, Sejanus demands.

“I would like to. Believe me”, Coriolanus scolds. His eyes darted around the room, ensuring that all was still unnoticed. 

“I am not leaving without you”, with your free hand you reach out to take a fist full of Sejanus shirt. 

“I have to do this” Sejanus justifies, “I have to go where the cameras are”. 

“You think anyone is watching this?” Coriolanus spat, taking a step closer to the couple, “Gaul cut the feed. Tributes kill you in here, she’s just going to say you died from the flu”. 

“They won’t kill me”, Sejanus vows. 

“Yes they will!” you reproach. 

Maybe there was hope for you, Coriolanus thinks, Maybe Sejanus hadn’t brainwashed you fully. 

The moonlight as it bounces off Lamina’s axe catches Coriolanus’s eye, and the safety net had now disappeared. She wouldn’t attack, but she could draw attention at any time. 

“You need to decide right now”, Coriolanus demands, he breaks Sejanus' hold on you in case you need to run, and focuses Sejanus attention on himself, “do you want to fight these tributes or fight for them? Because if you want to make real change, you need to stay alive”. 

“How can I make any change from out there?”, Sejanus discredits his power. 

He was not worthy of his power if he had no brains on how to use it. 

“You’re rich, smart. You care. You stood up to Gaul in that class, didn’t you? Spend your fathers money, do some real good”, a clash of the metal resounds in the arena. More would wake from the noise, and the group wouldn’t stand a chance. 

“We’re dead. Y/n’s dead if we don’t leave right now”, Coriolanus reprimand, “Come with us, or just be another body in Gaul’s war”. 

He knew he would have to fight to get you to leave Sejanus. But he was only allowing a few more seconds before he raced you to the exit. 

Worried that you would get yourself killed in the struggle to save Sejanus, Coriolanus turns to begging as a last resort. 

Placing a hand on Sejanus' shoulder, he brings the delusional boy closer. 

“Please, Sejanus. We’re friends. Trust me”, Coriolanus pleaded. 

You tug on Sejanus' shirt to move, “Come” you implore. 

His large, dirty palm goes over your hand, “Alright”, he whispers. 

The attack came at the perfect time. Coriolanus heard the shuffling of the boys shoes giving him time to pull you back towards the exit, before the war cry resounded through the arena. 

“Go, Run!” he demands, pushing you ahead of him. 

You sprint as fast as you can across the broken floor. Coriolanus caught up easily, pushing you forward urging you to move faster.  

Sejanus lagged behind, choosing to look at the fast approaching tribute. 

“Go! Go!” Coriolanus yells at you when you turn around to see where Sejanus was. 

You don’t look back again, until you reach the turn stalls. 

Coriolanus jumps over with ease, turning back to help you over. You stumble as your foot gets stuck on the rusty metal turn, and Coriolanus drags you over it as fast as he could. 

His hand takes a hold of yours once more as Sejanus approaches the stand with the tribute hot on his heels. 

He runs forward with you, eager to get you to safety beyond the gates. 

Sejanus screams as he stumbles over the hard metal and you halt your quick pace to safety. 

You call for him, trying to tug your hand out of Coriolanus’s. He resists, trying to get you to leave Sejanus.

Coriolanus promises to go back for him once you were beyond the gates but you wouldn’t have it. 

He drops your hand, rathering his own life to be in danger for Sejanus than yours. 

Coriolanus reaches Sejanus quicker than you do, and yanks him off the ground. 

‘Come on, get up!”Sejanus tries to regain his feet but his knee refuses to take any weight, “y/n, get to the gate!”, Coriolanus commands. 

You don’t turn, running towards Sejanus instead of away. You take his other arm over your shoulder, trying to assist Coriolanus. 

The screaming of the tribute came closer, and before Coriolanus could move, the sharp edge of a blade hacked into his shoulder. It was a far swing from the tribute but with enough force to split skin. 

He drops Sejanus to dodge the next attack. You fall into the wall, unable to support Sejanus by yourself.

The tribute now closer, stalks over to you with his sword held high. Sejanus tries a feeble attempt to shield you, but Coriolanus takes hold of a metal ruin that was stuck between cement, determined that not one hair on your head would be touched. 

He scrambles off the ground and swings the cement at the tribute with a loud scream. 

The young boy stumbles off balance, but readies himself again. He swung back with the blade which Coriolanus narrowly missed before bringing the cement down across the boy's head. 

It lands him on the ground, but Coriolanus doesn’t stop there, bringing it down once more on the boy who threatened his girl 

“Coriolanus!” you call to him. More tributes were coming out of the shadows. 

He drops his weapon, going back over to you to help lift the weight of Sejanus. 

Sejanus pushes through the pain to quicken the pace of the shuffle, but comotion had inlived  the most dangerous pack. Corals groups hooped and hollered as they approached.  

“Y/n, open the gate!”, Coriolanus demands, wanting you to be first out. 

Sejanus drops his arm from your shoulder, and you take the permission to take off ahead and bang on the gate until it opens. 

Coriolanus could hear the tributes as they run. They weren’t far off. He wasn’t sure they would even make it to the gate in time, but you would and that’s what matters. 

You push yourself out with the gate as it opens, turning back to look at the boys with wide, fearful eyes. 

Coriolanus pushes himself to be faster, taking nearly all of Sejanus' weight onto him. 

They make it just in time, and fall to a heap on the floor next to Peacekeepers boots. 

Corioanus pushes Sejanus off him. His hand reaches for his shoulder that now weeped blood. 

He groans as he feels the ache of the gash, next to his still searing burn mark.

He is distracted momentarily when Coral reaches the gate, and throws her spear into it. 

“Keep your eyes on the screen, gorgeous”, she taunts Coriolaus, throwing her head in the direction of you, “ I may have missed her tonight, but your songbirds next on my list”. 

The Peacekeepers demand that her group get back and the tributes disappear back into the dark tunnel.

He had followed Corals gaze to you on the floor. Your tears run down your cheeks now that the adrenaline is gone. 

Coriolanus moves to get you off the floor and into his arms, but you move as he does, and crawl across the floor to where Sejanus lay. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and sob into him. 

“I am okay”, he promises. His large hand rubs soothing circles on your back. 

You pull back in anger and begin hitting his chest as you speak. 

“How could you?”, you reprimand, “how could you do that?”.

“I am sorry, I had to do something”. Sejanus winces as he tries to sit up. His knee no doubt, completely ruined. 

“You could have been killed”, you cry with a push against his attempted hold. 

Was this the end of the bleeding heart couple? Coriolanus felt a spark of joy, watching as you fought. 

“Coriolanus could have died!”, as if you had forgotten about him you now turn to him, ‘Oh, Coriolanus”, you cry, “Are you okay?”. 

Coriolanus hand went back to his shoulder, feeling the wet patch of blood soak through his school jacket. He had no other uniform, even Tigres wouldn't be able to fix it. 

“Coryo, I am so sorry”, Sejanus apologies. It meant nothing to Coriolanus who ignored him. 

A car screeches to a stop and two car doors slam. 

The car is sleek and expensive with its own full time driver waiting with the lights on. 

Next to it stood Ma and Mr Plinth, who were well dressed as always. 

Ma was crying, but Mr Plinth stood stoic and angry. 

He gave Coriolanus a thankful nod but remained far away expecting his son to come to him. 

Ma runs over to her baby, wrapping herself around her sons head. 

Coriolanus takes the opportunity to move closer to you. You stand upon seeing him approach. 

“Are you alright?’, he questioned. 

You reach up, taking his neck and bringing him down into a hug. He gratefully goes, never expecting a hug before the relationship began. 

“Thank you, Coriolanus. I would have died in there”, you muttered. 

The hug is too short, before he is ready you are pulling away to look at his shoulder. 

“Coriolanus needs help!’, you announce, “Somebody needs to take him to the hospital!”. 

“Come with me”, he begs you.

“Don’t worry, Miss y/n. I’ll take care of our hero here”, Dr Gaul inserts herself where she is not wanted once more. She looked amused at Coriolanus’s physical and emotional pain. 

“Y/n, baby”, Sejanus calls to you. The driver had left the car to assist Sejanus while his father looks on. 

Coriolanus reluctantly lets go as you move to the sound of your name. 

“You’ll look after him?”, you question Dr Gaul. Coriolanus wanted to beg you not to believe her. 

“He’ll be good as new. You have my word”, Dr Gaul promises. 

He shutters as you move further back. 

Mr Plinth does not cross for his son, but he crosses to come collect you. 

He wraps an arm around your shoulder to lead you to the car. 

You look back at Coriolanus as you are led. Taking one final glance before entering the car with Sejanus. 

Coriolanus watches as the car takes off. He wondered if you had your arms wrapped around Sejanus in the back. 

He decides it is best not to submit his body to further stress and pushes it out of his mind. The walk home would help him clear his head, and focus only on the positives of the night. You relied on him tonight. Even acknowledged that he had saved your life. That was a step in the right direction. 

“And where do you think you are going, Mr Snow”, Dr Gaul calls out after him. 

“Home”, he announces over his good shoulder. 

‘And make a liar out of me?” she walks in the opposite direction towards the Peacekeeper van, “Come”. 

The ride back is silent. The same hurry to get there was not offered on the way back. Coriolanus shoulder ached, the blood would not stop pouring, sticking his shirt to his back and irritating his wound. 

Dr gaul doesn’t speak again until they are back in her lab. 

He couldn’t believe she had taken him back to her experimental freak show instead of a hospital. But he was in pain and in need of medical care so he didn’t verbalize his complaints.

“How did it feel?” she asks as she readies her station for him, “when you killed the boy to save y/n?”. 

He should have known she was watching. 

‘I didn’t have a choice”, he spat as he unbuttoned his shirt and took a seat in front of her. 

She laughs at him as she begins her first stitch. 

“All your fine manners, education, background, stripped away in a blink of an eye. Fueled with the terror of becoming prey, how fast we become predators".

Coriolanus lets out a shaky breath as the adrenaline dies down and the needle stitches him together. 

“Who would have thought that one day Crassus Snow’s boy would be fighting for his life in the area over a girl?”, he feels her stop stitching while she waits for the answer to her next question, “That's why you did it no? It wasn’t until news of her involvement that you volunteered. Or did you still wish to proceed with the guise of friendship?”

“Sejanus is not my friend”, Coriolanus declares. 

Her needle work began again, pleased with his answer. 

“You want to protect y/n, Mr Snow? Then it’s essential that you accept what human beings are, and what it takes to control them”. 

He feels her knot the thread into his skin

“So I’ll ask you again, when you beat that boy to death with a club, how did it feel?”. 

“It felt”, Coriolanus breathed, wondering if he should give the honest answer. Deciding he had nothing to lose from it, he answers. 

“It felt powerful”.

“Answer this next one honestly and you won’t have to walk home”, Dr Gaul teases, “Were you hoping that Sejanus died tonight?”

“Yes”, Coriolanus croaks. His own tears welling in his eyes. He refuses to let any more than two fall, which are wiped away harshly. 

“How did it feel to have her life in your hands tonight?”, Dr Gaul pushes. 

Coriolanus nods, unable to form words. 

A hand is placed on his good shoulder. She squeezes to let him know the sincerity of her words. 

“People will do anything to survive, Mr Snow. It doesn’t matter how miserable of an existence it is”. 

Coriolanus thinks to his bare apartment, and cinder block bed. It was true, and he was living proof. 

Survival meant hope. 

He closes his eyes, feeling more tears forming and remembers how malleable you were tonight. You trusted him wholly with your survival, and with that came power over you. 

Lucy-Gray was the same. Tonight you showed him the same loyalty, and respect that you had denied him previously. 

Lucy-Gray had tried to kiss him, and you melded your body to him when you could. He was sure if you were alone, you would have kissed him for saving your life. 

If only he could trap you as easily as Lucy-gray. Keep you in a state of panic that rendered you totally dependent on him. 

He lets out a low, breathy laugh, remembering Dean Highbottoms words. 

Maybe the old man could see more than Coriolanus would like. 

Despite the pain in his shoulder and his little sleep, Coriolanus arrived back at the auditorium bright and early.

Lucy-Gray was still alive. He could see her sleeping against a pole next to Jessup. 

The dead tribute was noticed, but soon forgotten. Only Lysistrata pushed to know more, but she too dropped the subject as the tributes began to wake and fight. 

There were ten tributes left. Not an impossible task for Lucy-Gray to outlive them all. 

He kept careful watch of the screens.  While the rest of the mentors took lunch, and socialized, Coriolanus sat with his head in his hand, hoping for a split second of screen time that told him Lucy-Gray was okay. 

“Coriolanus!”. Your voice shocked him as it appeared. 

He stood to greet you. It was a welcomed but unexpected visit. The games were announced a public holiday, you had no obligation to be at school. 

He would have thought after last night that you would be glued to Sejanus’s side. Was this the beginning of the end? 

“Y/n, what are you doing here?”, he questioned. 

In the daylight he could see a bruise on your temple from when toppled into the wall, under Sejanus. He reaches out to run his finger across the black spot, and you hit his hand away. 

“What are you doing here?”, you push back with a hard tone “I went to your house to check on you, but Tigres said you were here?”. 

Coriolanus felt his body twitch at your words. You went to his run down apartment? How much did you see? Surely, Tigres shielded his shame. Your eyes didn’t carry pity, maybe you didn’t know. 

“Don’t you ever go to my apartment without my permission again”, he scolded. 

That was close. Too close. He was days from getting the plinth prize. Days from burying his decade long shame. 

You seemed drawn back at his harsh tone. He had never spoken to you unkindly before. 

In an effort to ease the mood once more, before you left, he threw his hands up as if it wasn’t a big deal. 

“My Grandmother has severe social anxiety. We can’t have unexpected visitors”, he lies with a soft and airy tone. 

“Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t know”, you offer. 

Coriolanus tuts, bringing his hand up once more to brush the hair off your bruise. 

“You shouldn’t have been in there”, he complains. 

The bruise looked painful. He was sure it would cause you a headache. You should be resting with ice upon it, not here talking to him. 

“No one should be in there”, you return. 

His hand is pushed away again, but he attributes it being too soft to touch, rather than disdain for him touching you. 

"Thank you for checking on me”, he says. 

“You shouldn’t be here, Coriolanus. Not after last night”. 

“Lucy-Gray needs me”, he observes.

Your eyes flick to the screen behind him, before back to Coriolanus’s eyes and nod in agreement.

“Sejanus is in the hospital. They have him on morphline. His knee will never work fully, but he is alive and that's because of you”, you proclaim, “Lucy-Gray is fortunate to have you looking out for her. We all are”. 

His heart flutters. ‘We all are’, yes! Yes! You were lucky to have him looking out for you. Have you finally come to appreciate all he does for you?

He smiles down at you. If his shoulder didn’t ache, he would have reached out for you. 

“If there’s anything I can do”, you offer.

“There is!” He responds too quickly. 

He clears his throat, trying to conceal his eagerness. 

“There is”, repeats more even toned, “You could stay. I could use the support”. 

You looked unsure of the request, but he had saved your life just hours prior, so you felt an obligation to do as he asked. 

“Sure, Coriolanus”, you finally say, although you still looked unsure, “I can stay for a little bit”. 

He could barely breathe. The “great” he manages to get out is hardly above a whisper. 

He leads you to the front bench just in front of the first row of mentor chairs.

You sit obediently and he takes his new seat in front of you.

The tributes have become more lively. Coral was on the hunt for Lucy-Gray trying to convince one of her group members to go down and flush her out. 

None would so they go back to making traps to catch Reaper. 

Coriolanus reaches his hand back to you, trying to see how far his luck would take him. 

You do take his hand into your own, but only for the time it took to give him three encouraging pats to the back of his hand. 

It was close enough. Leaving Coriolanus with a feeling of satisfaction. 

The feeling stayed for less than a second. His good mood disappeared when the camera flew back to Lucy-Gray underground. 

Jessup was getting agitated. Yelling at Lucy-Gray and twitching uncontrollably. 

“What’s he doing?”Coriolanus jumps out of his chair and moves closer to the screens. 

“They’re friends. He wouldn’t hurt her”, you comment, coming up beside him. 

“Somethings wrong”, Lysistrata agrees, “He wouldn’t turn on her like this”.

Lucy-Gray makes a mad dash away which only further angers Jessup, determined that he had done something. 

Coriolanus watches in panic. Lucy-gray couldn't defend herself. She would never hurt Jessup, even in his mad state. 

“Go to the stands, go to the stands!”, he directs. 

Lucy-gray does go to the stands, climbing up as fast as she could but Jessup was determined to catch her. 

Coriolanus couldn’t watch. He turns and paces, trying to figure out a way to save Lucy-Gray. 

It couldn’t be over. You had only just come around, he needed more time.

The camera zooms in on Jessup allowing full view of the white form dripping down his lips. 

‘Wait, look”, he tells you. 

Your hand balls at your mouth. He hated to see you so frightened yet again. 

As soon as this was all over, he would ensure nothing would ever worry you again. 

“I think it rabies," he announces. 

He could have danced. There was a way out of this mess. The game wasn’t over yet. 

“That bite from the train”, Lysistrata deducts. 

“Send him water”. He demands of Lysistrata. 

“What? No”, she denines. 

He leans across her desk so she is forced to look at him. He was half tempted to just take control of her computer himself. 

“You remember the posters from the war. Rabies. It makes you scared of water. Send him a drone”, he demanded. 

“That’ll scare him”. 

He knew Livy had come to care for Jessup

“Yes” Coriolanus agrees in a hard tone, “away from her”. 

Lysistrata still looked in denial. There was no other option, both their tributes didn’t have to die. 

“Jessup is done”, he says with haste, “Livy, you’re the only one that can get it right to him”. 

Coming to grips with reality, Livy does as she is told, sending a water drone in the direction of Jessup. 

“Thank you”, Coriolanus feels better watching the drone fly in. 

“Nothing to be proud of”, Livy mutters. 

As planned, the drone smashes into him just as he reaches Lucy-gray. 

He hears you gasp as Jessup falls to his death and hits the bottom with a heavy thud. 

He turns to see you still with your hand pressed tightly against your mouth, and eyes squeezed shut. 

The sight makes him feel horrible that he had asked you to stay. 

You were on the side of his sore shoulder so he had to reach across with his good hand to touch you. 

“Coryo”, Livy called as Carol’s group came out of hiding. 

The hand on you balls watching as Corals group surrounds Lucy-gray. 

“Oh no”, he complains. 

He needed to make a distraction, so she could run and hide. He couldn’t just stand and watch. But the only thing he could do was send food and water in on badly operated drones. 

The same badly operated drones that just took Jessup out. 

He reaches for his communipad, and selects as many bottles of water as it would let him. 

He didn’t need to kill the group. Only give Lucy-Gray a chance to get away

The drones go flying in. He hoped Lucy-Gray wouldn’t give the surprise away, but she managed to keep her cool until it was time to duck. 

“Hey! You can’t attack the tributes” a fellow mentor complained. 

“I am just sending water”, Coriolanus jeered. 

He could hear your chuckle of approval behind him. You reach out to his good shoulder and murmur in his ear. 

“Good work”, you encouraged. 

He wished he could have stayed in the moment but it wasn’t over yet. Lucy-gray disappears into the dust, taking with her a bottle of water. 

She hides in the shelter of the ruin and he can faintly see her take something from her dress pocket. 

No there, he wanted to say. What if someone saw her poison the water and he was disquailified. 

He looks around the room to check no one else is noticing. All eyes seemed to be on the group turning against Lamina. 

Lucy-Gray ducks back out with the water, placing it back on the ground before emptying the others collected. It wasn’t a bad idea. 

Lamina's death stopped the clock and the attention was once more turned back to Lucy-gray. 

“Go” you mutter, flicking your hands out as if she could see. 

Lucy-Gray takes off with Coral and her group chasing her back up the stands. She finds an air duct and dives to close it in time. 

Coral catches it before it fully closes and it begins a tug of war against the two. 

“No, No”, you complain. 

He wanted to shield your eyes from the screen. With every inch Coral got, Lucy-Gray found the strength to tug it back. 

When it finally closes, sealing Lucy-gray in safety, Coriolanus lets out  a sigh of relief. 

“She’s Okay” he says to you. 

Coral takes out another tribute over a squabble over the water, and Dill drinks the poisoned water. 

So that was three dead tributes in less than 20 minutes. With this pace Coriolanus would be announced winner before the night ended. 

He sat you back down on your seat, and retook his in front of you. Your fingers cling to the bench underneath you, and your posture is tight and unnatural. 

He expects you to leave him, but you remain watching as Reaper collects the fallen tributes into a neat line and draps the Panam flag over him. 

“Are you going to punish me now?” reaper yells to the cameras. 

He begins to scream again but his words are cut off by a broadcast from Dr Gaul. 

“Capitol Citizens, I’m afraid I must interrupt our games to announce a tragic loss. Fleix Ravienstill, son of our beloved president, has this morning succumbed to his injuries sustained in the rebel bombing.Out there, in the districts, they will be celebrating this young boys death. I will not allow my games to give our enemies such a victory. I swear to you here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there’s to be no victor in these games”. 

The broadcast ends, and the tributes go back on screen. 

“What?” you spit, “What does she mean no victor? That's not fair. She can't do that”. 

You rise from your outrage, ranting to Coriolanus. Your anxiety has been taken over by your anger. Coriolanus agreed it was not fair. All his hard work gone down the drain because of the death of Felix,  who was never going to amount to anything anyway. 

A rainbow of destruction. The snakes. There was no way he could protect lucy-Gray from them. 

He would need something with her scent. Could he get the string of her guitar that she played in the interviews? He didn’t even know where it was. By the time he found it, the Games were sure to be over. 

Maybe, he could go to the zoo. Toss as many things as he could into the snake pit and hope one of them was hers? It might mean the survival of everyone but her too. 

The zoo, he remembers. He digs into his breast pocket to pull out the handkerchief he used to wipe her tears away. If the sweat of his palm can keep him safe against the snakes, then surely her fresh tears dried on the handkerchief could. 

He had to get it to the lab before it was too late.

He grabs your forearms and turns you away from the screen to him so he had your full attention. 

“Stay here, okay. I’ll be right back”. He commands. 

“Where are you going?”, you ask astounded that he could be leaving after such news. 

“Just stay here. Don’t move”, he reiterated. 

You nod sensing his urgency and he dashes out of the auditorium into the empty hallway. 

He knew he couldn’t walk into Dr Guals lab without a reason, and begging for Lucy-Grays life wasn’t a good one. 

As he jogs down the steps, he claws at the stitches in his back, reopening the wound. 

He groans from the pain but ensures all eight stitches have torn open. 

His body is weak as he sprints to Dr gauls lab. It barely gets him through the front door, where he demands to see Dr gaul. 

As if she was expecting him, the Peacekeeper lets him directly through. 

“Come to beg for her life?” Dr gaul asks uninterested. 

“No” Coriolanus puffs, “No, my stitches. They came loose. I didn’t want the doctors asking questions”.

She looks at him suspiciously but relents, going to her work table. 

“Come, pull down your shirt”, she directs. 

He walks past a row of black birds locked in cages. Her newest toys. 

“The news must have shocked you Mr Snow. With no tributes, no victor, with no victor, no girl”. 

Coriolanus faces the birds as Dr Gaul stitches the needle into his shoulder. He eyes the large snake tank in the corner and the people who ready it for transport. 

“Y/n’s actually at the auditorium. She came to support me. She’s the one who noticed the stitches”, Coriolanus lies. 

“Support you and not her boyfriend in hospital? Things are looking promising”, she says. 

"Looking promising, looking promising” her voice echoes across the room. Seemingly from the mouth of the birds. 

She sighs and stops stitching to click a receiver. 

“Jabberjays”, she explained, “We sent them out during the war to pick up rebel conversations. A failed experiment. They only pick up useless phrases unless manually operated. I am collecting them to see what better purpose they serve”. 

Coriolanus remains quiet trying to figure out how he could reach the cage before it was too late. 

The needle knots in his back, a feeling Coriolanus had come to know to mean that the stitching was done. 

“I’ll see you and your girl back in the auditorium for the finale, Mr Snow”, Dr Gaul dismisses, “you should be proud of yourself. Your songbird put on a wonderful show, and you didn’t need money to steal the girl after all”. 

Coriolanus quickly buttons up his shirt, watching as the cage was wheeled out. 

“Thank you, Dr Gaul”, he says. 

He races to catch up to the assistants wheeling the cage, pretending to be following them out. 

They don’t see him as a threat so pay him no mind. He falls back as they take a hallway just off the exit, and watches as they leave the cage out for an airlift. 

He stays hidden behind a pole until it was time. Leaving his jacket to keep the door wedged open. With their back turned, he dashes out to cage. The snakes are upset when he slams into the large cage, beginning to move and fight with each other. 

He finds an air hole large enough and stuffs the handkerchief in. it moves along the bodies of the snakes until Coriolanus could no longer see the white in between the rainbow. 

When the harness is lowered, Coriolanus makes a run back to the door, taking his jacket and making his own exit from the Citadel. 

He pays for the taxi this time. Sure that his body couldn’t take anymore strain. 

It cost him his fathers watch, but he arrived back in the auditorium before the entrance of the snakes. 

“What happened?” he quizzes you, taking a hold of your arm, “Lucy-gray is she okay?”. 

You point to the screen where Coral and Treech poke and prod a vent. 

“She’s in there”, you address with horror in your voice. 

Treech points up and Coral takes his palace directly under the vent. 

Blocking the camera, Treech begins to sway of balance and nose begins leek small amounts of blood. 

“Wait, what's wrong with Treech?” his mentor asks. 

Corilanious was worried about his own tribute, who was three lucky strikes away from being impaled. 

Coral hits the metal too many times and the vent collapses on top of her. 

Coriolanus' hand latches out to yours, which you accept with the same nervous tension in your fingers. 

“Run, run” Coriolanus begs. 

She runs back into the arena. Not the safest place with reaper still sitting by the dead tributes. 

Coral chases after her, too slow to catch up. 

The whole arena stops when the chopper lowers in the cage. 

“Please work”, Coriolanus whispers. 

“What is that?” you ask. 

“Wouldn’t it be fun if it was candy?” Lucy Flickerman answers you. 

Coriolanus feels your hand tense in his, then open in surprise when the glass cage cracks and the snakes fly out. 

“Not candy!” Lucky Flickerman announces as three tributes are overtaken in rainbow. 

The Snakes chase the last two tribute who head to the stands for higher ground. 

“Lucy-Gray, please” Coral begs. The snakes lash at her heels as she tries to drag herself up the stands, “Please it couldn’t have all be for nothing”.

It was. More snakes latch on and Coral dies with two loud screams. 

“Now all colors lead to Gray” Lucy Flickerman narrates. 

The snakes slither up and around Lucy-Gray but none bite her. 

Coriolanus lets out an unbelievable scoff. 

‘She’s..She’s won” he says watching as the snakes continue to follow Lucy-Gray. He had won. The 10th annual victor. She was last standing, even Dean Highbottom couldn’t contest his win.

“It’a over. She won”, he says in a louder voice. Why was no one doing anything to stop the snakes, “Let her out!”

“Afraid that’s not your call to make, mr Snow”, Lucky insists. 

He turns to the audience. Dr Gaul had come to see the final show. She sat high up in the breeches and must of come in when Coriolanus was distracted. 

He drops your hand so he could turn and face her. She stared back with the same hateful and curious gaze. She knew what he had done. 

But if she squealed on him, he would return the favor. 

Your hands fly up to your face once more when Lucy-gray begins to sing. Tears pour from your eyes watching the young girl sing her last song. 

Looking to get away from the camera that played on your pain, you pushed your way to the back.  

“Dr gaul. She’s won”, Coriolanus yells, “It’s over let her out”. 

“Why aren’t they attacking her?” Festus asks. 

Dr Gual raises her eyebrows at him in a mocking fashion. 

“It must be the signing. It’s calming them”, he deceives. 

“She can’t sing forever”, Festus comments bitterly. 

She just needs to sing long enough for Coriolanus to figure out a way to get her out. 

“Dr Gaul, please”, Coriolanus tries, “Get her out”. 

He could see the audience engrossed in the scene. He just needed to figure out how to turn it against Dr Gaul. 

“Get her out!”, you yell across the room, following Coriolanus stare to Dr gaul. 

Her eyes flick to you and you scream at her once more to release Lucy-gray. 

Others join, chanting in protest. 

“Who will watch the games if there is no victor?” he threatens. 

Dr Gaul raises her hand to silence the audience, before turning to her assistant. 

“Get her out”, she says loud enough for everyone to hear. 

A cheer erupts the auditorium and Dr gaul wades herself through it to the silence of the hallway. 

“She’s won! Lucy-Gray! Coriolanus Snow is the winner of the tenth annual Hunger games!” Lucky announces. 

People rush from the stands to swarm him. Offering him congratulations and applause. 

It all felt real now. He had done it. The plinth prize, you, were all his now. 

He pushes to the crowd to get to where you stood in front of the bleaches. 

You were smiling and clapping. He wasn’t sure if it was entirely for him, or if you were just glad Lucy-gray would live. 

You looked beautiful and for once Sejanus was nowhere by your side. In this moment, you were entirely his. 

You treated you as such, taking your face between his hands and stilling you for a kiss. 

His lips smashed against you, his teeth nipped at the skin of your bottom lip asking you to part them for him. 

You don’t pull away at first, but his lips are on you for less than ten seconds before you are shoving against his sore shoulder. 

He is forced to drop his hand upon the impact. His shoulder ached from pain of being moved, and on reflux he lowered his arm to ease it. 

Coriolanus could tell by the look on your face, you did not enjoy the kiss. Did he come on too strong? Did he accidently hit your bruise when he kissed you?

He opened his mouth to apologize for the above, but you took off before he could catch you. 

It was impossible to follow you through the crowd of people. People would not part to let him through. 

Some jeered at him for being pushed away but most still rode his victory wave. 

Had he made a mistake? Where you not ready to leave Sejanus for him yet?

You had no right to reject him. He had won. Saved your life. Risked his own. 

Coriolanus took a seat while the crowd surrounded him, and then disappeared. He stayed there until he was summoned by a peacekeeper much later. 

He figured he was to see his victor before they sent her back home. The Peacekeeper led him to a chamber, but Lucy-Gray was nowhere to be seen. 

“Lucy-Gray?” he called, “Lucy-Gray?”. 

He sees a table in the middle of the room with his fathers handkerchief and his mother compact. 

“To think, Mr Snow, you almost had it all” Dean Highbottom's voice taunts him. 

“Where’s Lucy-Gray?”Coriolanus demanded. Had they hurt her for Coriolanus’s mistake?

“I would be more worried about yourself” Highbottom answered, stalking towards him. 

“First y/n rejects you and now the prize money slips through your fingers”, Highbottom torments, “it’s fitting that both your parents could be here for your big moment”. 

He gestures to the items on the table in front of Coriolanus. 

“That compact, how many times did I see your mother use it? Come now, we both know that child from eleven didn’t die of disease. And that old handkerchief, we found it in the snake tank, condemning you with your fathers own initials”. 

Highbottom rounds Coriolanus completely before standing in front of Coriolanus across the table. 

“President Ravenstill has left your form of punishment up to me, and I’ve decided banishment to the districts where you’ll serve your Capitol in exile for the next twenty years as an anonymous, peacekeeping grunt”. 

Dean Highbottom grins at Coriolanus who felt too frozen to do anything. 

“You’ll never get your hands on y/n. She’s too good for you Mr Snow. By the time you get back I imagine her and Sejanus will be married with three or four children”. 

It was true. Coriolanus wouldn’t be able to block the ongoing turn of events that was sure to happen with Sejanus. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He had worked so hard to have you, only to be taken away as soon as he got on equal footing with Sejanus. 

“You hear that boy? That’s the sound of snow failing”, Highbottom proclaims. 

He’ll be left with nothing more than a memory of you, while you will forget completely of the man who loved you so. 

[meelusinee]

AN OPERA HOUSE ☆ T.N X READER

in which you’re Theo's girlfriend and went to visit him on tour.

pairing: singer!theodore nott x singer!reader

tags: band!au, mostly fluff

word count: 2.6k

warnings: none, just fluff! (and mattheo getting water bottles thrown his way)

author’s note: my first post! for starters, i made a small playlist for this fic if you’d like to check it out. theodore, who i imagine as a cigarettes after sex singer. secondly, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

AN OPERA HOUSE | T.N x SINGER!READER

God, he hated interviews.

The lights that were blaring in Theodore’s face, along with the sound of people walking around both in front and behind the set, were really starting to piss him off. Theo didn’t know how Enzo and Mattheo did it, both of them smiling bright as if they were having a nice fuck or smoking a rather heavy cigarette.

Theodore really could use a cigarette right now. Either that, or you.

Thoughts of nicotine and you had been running rampant in his mind ever since he had to leave you for his national tour, the tour that celebrated the release of the band’s newest album Cigarettes After Sex. A debut of sorts, Theodore wasn’t really sure what to call it. If he were to name it anything, he’d want to name it his love letter to you. But Mattheo had said he couldn’t do that, so he stuck with the band name.

“Today is a rather special day for you, isn’t it?”

Theodore’s mind zoned back in as Blaise gently nudged his leg, his posture straightening up as the interviewer finally started asking questions. Perhaps they needed time to make the lights even brighter, Theo thought, his hand moving to cover the frown growing on his face. 

“Very special indeed,” Mattheo said, his signature smirk that got a lot of people involved with the band plastered on his face. “We just released an album, did you hear?”

“Yes, I did!” the interviewer said, smiling brightly as she adjusted the notes in her hand. “I was hoping we could ask you some questions about it, the musical process and making it mostly.”

Theo hummed non-committedly as the rest of them nodded their heads. Questions about music production didn’t sound too bad compared to a media interrogation.

“Do you mind if we did an introduction?” the lady asked, her fingers patting the cards.

“Course not love,” Blaise said, waving his hand casually as he sat up straighter. Theodore rolled his eyes, looking down at the ground. Blaise was always the biggest player out of the four of them. And that said a lot, seeing as though Mattheo Riddle was in the band as well. 

Theodore watched as the cameras focused in on each of them, the interviewer putting her cards down momentarily to introduce them to the show. “Today is a very special day for all of us, I can imagine.” she said, smiling as she made some sort of dramatic hand gesture towards them. “Today, I’m here with the members of Cigarettes after Sex. We’re going to ask questions about their newest album.”

“I’m so excited.” Lorenzo squeaked, straightening up as he and Mattheo made funny faces to the camera.

“I wanted to start with the first question I had, which was how working on the album went.” she started almost instantly, sitting up a bit straighter. Theo rather appreciated that about her. “I mean, there’s four people in your band, and a lot of timing and other issues that you’d have to work on together. Does that stuff come easier to you than to others, do you think?”

“I think we work pretty well together, right?” Lorenzo asked, leaning forward to look at the other three before smirking in Theo’s direction. “Other than Mr. Grumpy over there, he gets pissy a lot.”

“Oh definitely.” Mattheo said, smirking as he ruffled Theo’s hair. “But it’s okay, because he writes us songs and mothers us whenever we drink. We love him very dearly.”

“It’s not my fault you decide to get concerningly drunk almost every time we hit a bar.” Theo grumbled, sitting up a bit straighter as he prepared to answer the question seriously. “We work as a team a lot of the time, especially when it comes to music. The only non-negotiable is the lyrics, which I write by myself. Other than that though, it’s free reign.”

“So things like instruments and rhythm are all decided by everyone in the band collectively?” the interviewer asked.

“Pretty much,” Blaise explained. “Usually Mattheo and Enzo make a starting beat for songs, and Theo and I usually build guitar chords off of that. Theo here has most of the control with singing though, rhythm and stuff.”

“That’s really cool.” the interviewer nodded. “I wish my family had that amount of coordination during the holidays.”

The four of them chuckled at varying degrees, with Mattheo winking at the interviewer after. “Maybe if we came over we could give you some pointers.”

“That sounds really lovely, actually.” she said, the comment obviously getting to her. Her cheeks became visibly more flushed, fingers tapping faster against her notes. “I wanted to ask you guys a little bit about the lyrics though, if you don’t mind.”

And here we go.

“That’s all Theo’s field.” Lorenzo said, all three of their fingers dramatically pointing at the top of Theo’s head. He really felt like walking out for a smoke, and maybe burning them all with the ashes out of spite for their existence. But he wasn’t going to let them know that.

“Now, I’m sure you can guess where this is headed,” she chuckled softly, flipping one of her flashcards over. “I was wondering what the inspiration for your songs was. Do you have a muse or anything of the sort?”

Theodore sighed, feeling the moment almost pause in time as he tried to think of an answer. He very much did have a muse, you were waiting at home in his bed. Even still, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that public. Especially since the both of you were rather quiet creatures.

He supposed it couldn’t hurt too much though.

“I do,” he whispered, clearing his throat after he spoke. He didn't realize how choked he would sound speaking. “Yeah, she’s really pretty.”

“Theo’s got a girlfriend!” Mattheo teased, poking Theo’s cheek teasingly. “He’s got a girlfriend who he loves very much. That woman has stolen his heart from me!”

“For shame of her, the audacity even.” Blaise chuckled amusedly, both Mattheo and Enzo playing a heartbroken bit. Theo smirked softly as Mattheo dramatically rested his head on Lorenzo’s shoulder, fake sobs escaping his mouth as they mourned over the loss of a non-existent relationship. 

“You’ll be fine.” Theo said, gently patting Mattheo’s back.

“I’ll never recover from this.” he sniffled, sitting up a bit straighter. “Mark my words.”

It was a midsummer night, the sweltering heat doing nothing to deter the line of fangirls waiting at the entrance gates. The muggy and dense air seemed to surround everyone with a humid blanket, every bit of contact made as they tried to get through the doors like a match on gasoline. The concerts you went to weren’t usually this crowded and suffocating. 

Then again, you usually never went to such well known-bands.

Luckily for you, you had been able to sneak a VIP seat ticket for the higher tip-tops of the opera house, a fitting venue for the band that was playing tonight. Cigarettes After Sex was flashing on the monitor they had set up near the back of the stage, the camera zoomed in to focus on the currently empty microphone stand. 

Voices filled the area as everyone began to take their seats, some people pushing and shoving as they made their way around with water and sneaked in alcohol. Some of them had on merch for the band, some of them didn’t. Most of them wore darker clothes though, lots of black with leather jackets and heavy boots.

Your eyes zoned in on the screen as the lights began to dim, the voices all hushing as four men walked out onto the stage. Lorenzo Berkshire was the drummer, one of the most well-known band drummers that you could name off the top of your head. Mattheo Riddle was already stationed by the keyboards, his unruly curls already a little damp from the humidity inside the room. Blaise Zabini walked out with his bass guitar in hand, a role you knew he took on just so he could look hot while strumming the strings. Then came out Theodore Nott. 

Your boyfriend.

You could tell that the heat was affecting him the least out of all of the band members, his waterline covered in the tiniest bit of eyeliner. You smiled softly as you recalled the memory of putting eyeliner on him when you two first started dating, the giggling fit the both of you had broken out into as the other three begged you to do their eyeliner as well. 

He looked beautiful in the lighting too, his outfit framing his figure in an almost holy light. You were almost tempted to start writing a song about it right then and there. But now wasn’t your time, now was the time of the band.

You supposed the band thought the same thing as well, Blaise’s fingers beginning the strum the opening of their most popular song. Theo made his way up to the microphone stand, smiling softly at the crowd as he began to sing. His voice was just as angelic as his face, echoing through the opera house like the ghost of a long forgotten lover. He had completely captivated the room, the silence barely just quieter than the sound of his voice. 

“Your lips, my lips,” you smiled softly as he sang the lyrics, leaning your head on your hand. “Apocalypse.”

You remember the time when he wrote that song. Your tongue was barely darted out as you tried to focus on not messing up the edges of a painting you had been working on, the brush trembling with your hands focused. It was a galaxy, the blues and purples blending together in a  jaw-dropping beauty of a display. Mattheo had come into the room as you finished, a low whistle escaping his mouth as he glanced over at it.

“Looks like an apocalypse.”

Apparently, those words had rung through Theo’s mind for the week after that. He eventually sat you down on the bed, pulling out his guitar as he began to sing the lyrics to you. They needed a bit of polishing with the rhythm, his fingers plucking the wrong strings at times as he sang. But it was one of the most beautiful pieces you had heard regardless, tears welling in your eyes as you moved to hug him. That hug also ran through Theo’s mind for yet another week, in which he had apparently produced an entire studio album based on you. 

You smiled softly as the end of the song came about, the final string echoing through the silent theatre. Theo had gone to grab a bottle of water by the speaker, his eyes locking onto yours.

You winked playfully, smiling at the blush that covered his features. You also just remembered that he had not expected you at the tour. 

“You need to come get your lover boy,” were the words that rang through your phone speaker as you tried to press it against your ear.

“What?” you asked again, pen in your hand as you spoke.

“I said,” Mattheo’s voice rang through the speaker. “You need to come get your lover boy. He is really depressed right now, like, really. He’s missing you terribly and is currently refusing to work because of it.”

You heard him and Blaise beginning to argue in the background, the both of them knowing that Theo would eventually get up. But Mattheo seemed to think that you being there would solve every single one of his problems.

“I don’t know if I can go, Mattheo,” you mumbled, placing your notebook down. “I doubt I could get a spontaneous ticket.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I already sent a driver to pick you up, he’ll be there in about 10 minutes. I’m just calling to let you know.”

“You what?” you said, looking at the phone incredulously. “Mattheo, I don’t have any time to pack! What would I wear?”

“You say that as if Theo won’t buy you a whole wardrobe based on you liking a single piece of jewelry!” Mattheo said back, groaning as Blaise called for him. “I gotta go, make sure you get in that car and come over. He’s really, really missing you.”

“Mattheo, I swear to Merlin.” you began, but didn’t have any time to finish as you heard the beeping at the end of the line. 

(divider)

“Is that amore mio?” Theo asked Blaise incredulously, looking over at the other three before catching Mattheo’s smirk. “Oh, you bastard.”

“You were missing her!” he said, running away from the keyboard so Theo could throw water at him. “It's not my fault you got depressed!”

“She is meant to be resting, testa di cazzo!” Theo said, sighing as he put the bottle down. No doubt that would be clipped in magazine headers across the country. Theo looked over at you, a soft smile coming on his face when you came into vision. You still had that smile on your face, if not brighter now that you were giggling. He smiled back, picking up his microphone again.

“For our next song,” he spoke into the microphone, placing it back on the stand. “I think it’d be rather nice to sing something about the building we’re in as well. Something about the opera house.” he said, smirking softly as the crowd of fans began cheering. The lights dimmed again as the music began playing, his eyes closing as he let it run through his soul.

“Built an opera house for you in the deepest jungle,” he began, the music coursing through his veins. The words flowed out of him like a waterfall, his voice sweet as candy as he began walking back and forth at the front of the stage. Though every time the chorus hit he found himself in the middle, eyes focused on yours as he sang the lyrics. 

“I was meant to love you, and always keep you in my life. I was meant to love you, I knew I loved you at first sight.”

The lights cut off completely as the equipment turned off, a smile growing on Theo’s face as the end of the concert came. 

“Theo!” you squeaked as you saw him, waddling up to him like a happy penguin as you embraced him in a hug. You hadn’t seen him in over two weeks, the longest either of you had ever spent apart. “I never want to abandon you ever again.”

“If anyone was doing the abandoning, it was me.” he chuckled, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your forehead lovingly. “I missed you so much principessa,” 

“I missed you too,” you mumbled, burying your face in his chest. “Teddy.”

“Are you calling me a teddy bear?” he chuckled softly, pulling away from the hug to cup your face lovingly. His eyes were filled with devotion you only thought possible in dreams and fairytales, that was until you eventually met him at least. 

“Yes I am.” you smiled softly.

“You are ridiculous.” he chuckled softly, pressing his lips against yours as he caressed your cheeks lovingly. “Merlin, I love you.”

“I love you too.” she whispered lovingly. 

The two of you stood comfortably in the silence, wrapped in a hug neither wanted to leave. That was until Mattheo popped in.

“Told you that you missed her!”

His face had rather quickly met two empty water bottles. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thank you so much for reading! i got kind of lazy during the end of this, i'm not going to lie to you (it's three am), but! if you want more of these two lovely beauties i might maybe make a part two! (i originally drafted this with reader as a singer in mind, so if you'd like to be singing some adrianne lenker songs to theo just let me know)

please like and comment and all that jazz, i practically live off of validation at this point.

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Las Vegas 2024

-Fun Fact: Listening to the national anthem at 12:50 am does not make you feel more awake, but hearing a 1S song in the background of the pre-race interviews does

-Props to Franco Colapinto and the Williams garage for getting back into shape so quickly

-Charles!!! Let’s go!! He really loves those p4s!! How does he manage those starts???

-“It’s a brave man who makes a move against Kevin Magnussen” Hehe

-Go Nico!

-Alpine being the bane of my existence right now

-Seeing Yuki and Nico in p7 and p8 just feels right

-Fernando Alonso is just going for it! I need him to have a good race for once

-Also, Zhou p12??

-“Here comes Charles Leclerc…” And there goes Max Verstappen!!

-Alonso?? Oh he had softs on

-Oscar false start?

-Alpine, you’re back to being good babe

-“I think Charles has to get this move done on George Russel” I think his move on Carlos Sainz was what was more important

-Woah that replay between Kevin and Liam, so close to contact

-Come on Lewis, come on, come on

-Ohmygodd Max!! Lewis!! Aaaaah!

-Yuki and Pierre!!

-Why the hell are the graphics showing Charles p4? Fix that immediately!

-Lewis! Lewis! Lewis!

-Charles and Lando pitting now??

-Ferrari if you mess this up for me I will be having words

-Max and Lewis again!! Making moves!

-Max stuck in a Mercedes sandwich. It’s giving old times

-Okay it’s fine I guess, the pit stop, for Ferrari (but why is Charles behind Carlos)

-Okay Red Bull be good

-No way Merc is double stacking… yeah they’re not

-Okay okayyy Ferrari

-Oh no Ocon? What was that pit stop?

-Would it be crazy for me to manifest a Hulk podium? Yeahh, never mind, he just dropped way down after that stop

-Cool how George still got back out in the lead after pitting

-“No power!” Oh no Pierre. Oh god that’s so unfortunate, so so unfortunate

-Come on Lewis, come on, come on

-Yes!

-Ah Yuki!!

-Charles and Checo (Vegas 2023 I miss you)!

-Okay Checo really needs to pit now

-“I think Hamilton unquestionably has the pace” I’ve been waiting so long to hear that

-We forgot way to quickly how bad that Alpine was, Brazil got us dreaming too big

-“We’ll come back to you” agshsjsvshajnabs

-The way I’ve been urging Lewis on for the last five laps

-Nico! Nico! Nico!

-Lol how is Yuki stuck in a McLaren sandwich again

-“Man these guys are fast on the straights”

-Can people stop with the “shelf-life” comments? So distasteful

-Zhou’s doing pretty well isn’t he?

-“Can we just get a race without problems?” Alex I’m so sorry

-How are Checo and Liam even near each other right now?

-Oh come on Charles

-“Swap positions” Ooh I wasn’t expecting that. Are Ferrari finally taking things seriously??

-Oh my god, Carlos whyyyy?

-“Stay out, stay out, stay out” Come on!!

-Checo finally overtaking the Sauber

-Why not have just let Carlos come in?? Now he might have a penalty? Surely that’s not good

-“Wake up guys! Come on!” Ughhh

-Why hasn’t Lando pit yet?

-I am still so annoyed about Ferrari. What are you doing??

-“His arch rival- nemesis really” The 2021 season was really one for the ages

-I love when Max knows when to play it safe

-George having so much time between him and p2 to pit

-How was I praising Ferrari strategy five seconds earlier?

-How many times are we going make a joke about Yuki’s airport incident? Please just shut up

-Okay Sauber, I had way too much faith in your pit stops there for a second

-If Merc pulls team orders I will scream

-“ All the traffic in one group behind Tsonoda” Why’d that make me laugh

-It’s so funny how I was saying this is giving old times, with a Merc 1-2 and Max p3

-Alonso!!

-Woah Checo! Let’s go! That’s was amazing!!

-“Do you want me to try and keep them behind or what?” “I think you should yeah”

-Still don’t get why Carlos is ahead there

-So confused about this whole Ferrari situation. What is going on?

-Like how is Carlos somehow helping Max cover off his teammate?

-Last five laps. I know we have this in the bag but I’m not trusting that car until it crosses the checkered flag

-“What a talent. What a team” LETS GO BABY

-“He picked his battles well” YES HE DID

-“It’s victory in Vegas” “That’s four in a row Max, four in a row” “Ohmygodd what a season”

-Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah

-“Vegas baby” I wonder if the baby George fan was awake to see this

-“Formation flying for Mercedes-Benz”

-“Never thought this was possible” The way he pulled through right when it was critical

-Yea!! 4! 4! 4!

-Aw this team

-George and Max hugging! Yuki congratulating Max! Max and Fernando!!

-The other team mechanics nodding their head in acknowledgment>>>

-Aah so happy right now!!

-“I also have to go there?” He’s so cuteee

-“Oh he’s got his own car” Haha

-Max and GP!!

-“I think they got a little spoiled last year with the wins” 😭😭 MAX

-The chants of “Max, Max, Max” in the background>>>

-Ah I’m so so happy

[violetmuses]

Curtain - R. Reigns 🖤

Title: Curtain - R. Reigns 🖤

Fandom: WWE

Character: Roman Reigns

Pairing: Roman Reigns + Production!Reader

Main Storyline: Someone has a crush behind the scenes.

@expert-texpert @persethegawd @episodes-ff @adriennegabriella @fearlesschimera @secretlifeoofmarpessa @mytribalnightmare @adoresmiles @blackgurlnhermoods @msbigredmachine @trippinsorrows 🏷

=====

2012

“Joe?” Someone had knocked on the private door this evening.

Joseph Anoa'i stood near one decent mirror and personally styled his dark yet long hair now.

Clearing his throat for a second, Joseph finished adjusting that hair and walked shirtless, pairing shorts with black shoes to answer the door.

“Yes, Ma'am?” Offering kindness, Joe wouldn't pull his character yet and smiled when you stood wearing this headset for the production team.

“I'll join our camera crew, but I wanted to show my face before we start rolling.” You grinned and nodded, keeping Joseph aware before the match.

“No problem. It's nice to meet you.” Joe understood pleasantries, but his heart started to race.

Even while you dressed to handle work backstage, Joseph almost turned flabbergasted.

You're so pretty, it's unfair.

“See you out there.” Leaving that door open, you gave Joseph his last few minutes alone before the match started.

Soon enough, monster Roman Reigns would burn this place to the ground.

****

Defeating opponent CJ Parker, Joseph Anoa'i channeled his dangerous persona and quickly shook the world beyond NXT, encouraging noise.

When Roman inked that main roster beside Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins, you helped large-scale cameras with the biggest smile on your own face.

The Shield was born.

_____

As “wreckage” plummeted the Survivor Series event, you found Joseph in person and grinned while this cleaning staff hustled.

“Congratulations.” You genuinely respected this man.

“Thank you.” Wearing black and sporting new pants to replace shorts, Joseph nearly towered beyond height when compared with your stance.

Uh-oh. Joe realized.

Whenever facing you, butterflies almost swarmed his stomach like the movies.

Before this man could speak again, security arrived to escort teams home.

“Take care.” You bid farewell and Joseph watched your footsteps leave the tunnel, already protective.

Damn.

*****

While big-time events continue hitting the famous schedule, every single wrestler kept fighting various opponents throughout televised chaos.

Even interviews became different.

One night, SHIELD gathered for this post-match conference with media platforms and the Reigns character pulled back up, showing off an attitude.

“Catch my good side.” His strong voice would settle anger and everyone laughed when your camera zoomed toward his own face.

“In all seriousness, I just wanna thank everyone for welcoming our squad near the WWE family. Good night and stay safe, y'all.” Joseph returned and broke the fourth wall to meet reality again.

Finding your presence, Joe winked after leaving the press table and moved forward, yet those invisible butterflies would rattle once more.

“You're bold.” You nearly whispered, but Joseph caught on and walked toward the camera.

“Let somebody else film until we leave.” Joseph answered this time.

“Okay. Is something wrong?” You squinted, definitely concerned.

“No, but we should talk in private.” Joseph no longer pulled the character idea.

“All right.” You agreed, led down the corridor near dressing rooms for this program.

_____

“Whatever you need, I'll do it.” Joseph attempted to explain himself without saying too much.

“I appreciate your respect.” You understood his generosity.

“Thank you for everything.” Joseph moved away, before you could respond, but your mind stood puzzled now.

What happened?

=====

2014

Two years later, everything changed.

With SHIELD now lying dead in the name of cinematic betrayal, WWE started to promote Roman Reigns as a solo act for the first time.

Despite facing changes, you would stand right there and keep composure while millions of disappointed fans still loathed this outright turn of events.

Meanwhile, Joe still looked out for you.

*****

Before his match against Mark Henry would take place, Roman knocked in full costume, but smiled off camera.

“Don't I look good?” His strong voice nearly flirted as footsteps marched closer to you.

“Yeah.” You almost giggled, excited to witness the broadcast. “Now, get out there. Everyone's screaming through the walls already.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” Biting his lip, Ro smoothed back perfectly long hair and turned down that hall, ready for war.

*****

“Welcome back. We are here broadcasting live for Monday Night Raw! Roman Reigns has readjusted his momentum and will now stalk legend Mark Henry.” Pundits described updates following one of the commercial breaks.

“Hold on. What's this? Oh my! Reigns bolted forward and locked down this hefty spear maneuver to defeat the world's strongest man right now!” Announcers kicked up shock while fans lost their minds.

“I did that. Me!” Reigns nearly sprinted to your camera and showed out while celebrating this victory. Even footage began to shake up.

This is my job? Awesome! You couldn't help smiling regardless.

Ooh-wa!

______

In the tunnel, Joe dashed beyond his adrenaline and lifted your weight out of nowhere, then spinning this joyful moment round and round.

Even when your stance reached this floor again, Joe stepped back and offered distance.

“Sorry. I'm still excited now.” While Joseph glanced down to meet your eyes, his Southern accent pulled forward.

“It's all right, that was fun.” You smiled and his heart flipped again.

Good Lord. Joseph thought.

Right before Joe would talk again, your work phone rang and its noise echoed in the tunnel.

I'll go.” Joseph pointed backwards and planned to exit with security guards.

You nodded before picking up the call and your voice still lingered when Joe began to leave.

“Hello? Colby, what's wrong?” You greeted wrestler Seth Rollins by his real name, Colby Lopez. “Flat tire? Shame. I'll contact someone right now.”

Watching frustration reach your eyes, Joseph stood with guards while other professionals helped, moving to the lot found outdoors.

_____

Waiting in this dressing room just in case, Joseph stood up immediately when you knocked on the door again.

“All set.” You offered the update. “Everyone should be good to go with transportation and security’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks.” Joseph didn't even think about personnel, but excused himself anyway, grateful as you joined the parking lot to depart.

Everyone is safe, especially you.

*****

As time moved along, Ro would take charge beyond words.

“I'm not talkin’ to Renee. Look at me.” Roman locked down brutal eye contact with your camera and the fans whistled, seeking his next move.

“Woo!” Spectators encouraged Reigns more and more.

“You're not slick here. Stop flirting before I do something too hot for TV.” Reigns bit his lip and stepped right back.

Even commentators laughed before the program ended.

Your thoughts know exactly what Roman meant tonight.

Before filming, you dressed in black for work as usual, but the outfit teased your curves without pushing boundaries regarding this important job.

Off camera, Joseph nearly couldn't stand your presence this time. Even as you clicked heels in all directions, his firing glare would keep its torch.

“Where are you going?” Joseph peeked around the corner later and noticed you, trailing your footsteps near his dressing room.

“Ah - Put me down, Joe!” Yet, he caught up just in time and carried you over his shoulder, stomping in the tunnel when your laughter nearly howled.

Happy birthday to me! You thought.

His silly behavior lasted all night and this special card waited.

Boss,

Best wishes to my favorite camera expert. 🫂

Always,

-Big Dog 🐾

====

2017

Years would leave calendars once more and you secured different experiences many times, still working with that famous company nowadays.

But when The Undertaker loomed between shadows for “Wrestlemania,” you made popcorn and gathered everyone, just awaiting madness.

Ouch. Each passing strike crossed Big Dog as an icon marked danger.

Dueling back and forth, each competitor slammed this movie in real time.

“Watch this.” Grabbing this chair, Ro acknowledged your main camera and threw down the tough prop with all of his might, fighting back.

“No!” Thousands of people would shout with disbelief.

“Stay down, this is my yard!” Roman barked at The Deadman and knocked out one last spear to beat this legendary monster.

“Roman Reigns has defeated The Undertaker at Wrestlemania!” Announcers revealed that impossible finale as Deadman centered this ring.

_____

“Are you serious?” You still couldn't believe what happened.

Joe stuck out his tongue and left with security guards, never answering.

When you jokingly casted both eyes toward the ceiling, your coworkers just laughed beyond this special venue to leave another spectacle marked.

Ro still took care of business.

*****

Months later, John Cena would line up for the “No Mercy” event.

“I've heard rumors about the cameras. What's going on, Roman?” Cena walked forward in this ring.

“Don't start. Wanna get your ass beat?” Ro shook his head and defended you in silence.

“There it is.” Cena caught how venom struck Roman's glare and the crowd watched in shock.

“I will knock you out right now. Just keep talking, John!” Ro paced back and forth, heating jealousy to fuel the match this evening.

“Make a move, Big Dog! Somebody else could get her phone number.” Cena struck one more comment right before this duel would kick off.

Ding, ding, ding!

The massive audience erupted throughout another venue. Even Roman headlocked Cena first and quickly started the battle right now.

“C'mon! Get him, Ro.” Even when Reign failed different maneuvers, you kept shouting behind the camera.

“I got it.” His Southern accent pulled beyond the rasping voice just before Roman knocked out victory again!

“Oh my goodness. What an incredible match tonight! Ladies and gentlemen, The Big Dog Roman Reigns just took down John Cena.”

****

For the first time since crossing the NXT match, Joseph whispered to you in private and held hands while walking right through this tunnel.

"Too much?” He offered kindness to help you feel comfortable.

“No.” You welcomed his gesture, but paused near the dressing room.

“Oh, right.” Joseph realized the point of you stepping back and cleared his throat for a second.

“See you next time.” Your heels clicked once more, but Joseph couldn't help answering differently.

“Baby…” Sighing, Joe slipped that nickname for you and no longer kept up with his Roman Reigns persona.

Turning around, you looked up to face his nearly pleading stare.

“What's going on, Joe?” You offered this burning question.

Peering down beyond towered height, Joseph bit his lip and moved closer, fading proximity for you b

“I want…” His strong voice revealed genuine truth here.

Your breath hitched while his power nearly shook up thoughts. Tempting lips almost met inches away.

Before you'd consider this point of no return, sother voices interrupted.

“Time to go, everyone!” An announcement signaled the building for departure.

Pulling together several emotions, you know much better and stepped away from Joseph, leaving this place like nothing happened.

====

The Announcement - October 22, 2018

“My real name is Joe and I've battled leukemia for the past eleven years.” Joseph Anoa'i revealed his personal medical condition to the world.

Backstage, loved ones arrived to give l and offered support before Joseph would begin his lifesaving treatment.

You nearly sobbed alongside Paul Heyman, unable to smile past true feelings. The spectacle of WWE no longer made a difference tonight.

“Hey.” Joseph opened both arms to hug you despite everything.

The embrace nearly squeezed beyond comprehension, but you didn't even care.

“You got this, okay? If you need anything, let me know. Take care, all right?” You sniffled through remarks and still faced him.

“Thank you. God bless.” Joseph's kindness never wavered and you watched him leave to fight such an unbelievable illness.

=====

The Return - February 25, 2019

“I'm in remission, y'all.” Everyone cheered when Joseph returned to WWE and revealed the most amazing news.

Once Colby Lopez, also known as Seth Rollins, welcomed back Joseph another voice, while echoed throughout the large-scale space.

“What's up, Big Dog?” Spotlights beamed as your favorite color changed the show.

That unexpected greeting crossed lively music while the audience sent this night into a frenzy and Joseph couldn't help looking for you.

Even working behind the scenes, your own legend stood high among this WWE platform.

Within seconds, this entire space darkened and one effect with clicking heels reminded Joe of countless memories. Fans only wailed louder.

Another light revealed your silhouette and when this room brightened, cheering almost shook when you stood across from Joseph in person.

“Thank you so much. Thank you!” Emotions ran high no matter what as Joe whispered on camera.

“Welcome back, I'm so proud of you.” Your tears reached smiles this time.

“Baby Girl, you have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you.” Joseph held your hand in the most subtle manner despite footage.

The overjoyed crowd screamed beyond words to kick off another broadcast while Joseph looped his arm around your shoulder, reunited for good.

=====

2022

“Careful, Sweetheart. Don't forget who's in charge here. Huh? Ten years with your pretty self. You know I'm right.” Even while fighting opponents, his matured yet classic voice still offered habits for you during trash talk.

Complying, you nodded behind the camera and smiled, accepting his chances to flirt again.

“Locked the vice grip around this guy.” Roman continued battling someone and you caught on.

“You haven't met my clutch.” You snuck this opportunity right back.

“What did you just say?” His Southern accent pulled even further regardless of the match.

“You heard me, Ro.” Your next comment shortened his ring nickname as Roman scored this victory on purpose.

****

“Get back here! Stop running.” Joseph Anoa'i finally won you over.

Nearly chasing your steps down that tunnel this time, Joseph no longer held back and felt spurred by your laughter. The sound just echoed again.

No better feeling in the world.

“Look.” Setting your bum on top of this private table in his dressing room, Joseph lifted your chin and knelt between your legs.

“Yes?” Your gaze would still offer undivided attention.

“If you'll have me, I love you.” His rough tone settled down with this confession.

At long last, you looked down and his lips met yours for the very first time.

[valiwrites]

omg joão like in an interview and he didn’t even look at the woman interviewing and he kept talking about the reader and we tease him for it and it can be all really fluffy

THE ONLY ONE I WANT

pairing: joao felix x reader

type: fluff

warnings: none

MASTERLIST

<><><><><><>

João had been bouncing from one interview to the next all afternoon, his polished charm and easy smile carrying him through as usual. You’d come along with him, mostly because he asked you to. He’d said he felt calmer when you were around, and honestly, you didn’t mind tagging along. It was fun seeing him in his element, answering questions with a mix of humility and wit that always had people eating out of the palm of his hand.

By the time he sat down for the last interview of the day, though, you could tell he was tired. His smile was a little tighter, his posture a little more slouched. Still, he waved you over to a spot just off-camera, making sure you stayed close enough to watch.

The interviewer was a young woman with a bright demeanor, her energy seemingly untouched by the long day. “João!” she greeted cheerfully, settling into her chair. “Thanks so much for taking the time to chat with us today.”

“Of course,” João replied with a nod, his usual soft smile in place.

The questions started off standard: reflections on his last match, his goals for the rest of the season, his thoughts on the team’s recent performances. João answered them all easily, but something was... different.

As the minutes went by, it became obvious that João wasn’t giving the interviewer his full attention. Sure, his answers were thoughtful, but his eyes kept drifting—towards you.

You stood there in your corner, arms crossed, watching him with an amused smile. Every time his gaze flicked to you, you raised a brow or tilted your head teasingly. He was trying so hard to be subtle, but he was failing spectacularly.

At one point, the interviewer paused mid-question, a small laugh escaping her. “João, I have to ask—are you okay? You seem... a little distracted.”

João blinked, his attention snapping back to her. “Ah, no, I’m fine. Sorry,” he said quickly, a hint of pink rising to his cheeks.

She laughed again, clearly taking his apology at face value, and repeated her question. But as soon as she finished, João’s eyes darted back to you. This time, you couldn’t suppress your laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle it.

When the interview finally wrapped up, João stood and made a beeline for you, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Well?” you asked, unable to hide your grin. “How do you think that went?”

“Good, I think,” he replied, but he wasn’t looking at you.

“Good? Really?” you pressed. “Because from where I was standing, it looked like you barely even listened to the poor woman.”

He stopped fiddling with the zipper on his jacket, his head snapping up to meet your gaze. “I was listening!”

You gave him a pointed look. “João. You didn’t even look at her half the time. You were too busy staring at me.”

“I wasn’t staring,” he muttered, but the way his ears turned red told a different story.

“Oh, you weren’t?” you said, stepping closer to him. “Because it sure felt like every time I looked at you, you were already looking at me.”

“I wasn’t staring,” he repeated, quieter this time. His shoulders hunched a little, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just—” He hesitated, his brows knitting together as he searched for the right words.

“You just what?” you asked, your tone softening.

João sighed, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t know. It’s just... when you’re there, I want to look at you. I don’t mean to be rude, but—” He trailed off, his lips pressing into a thin line.

For a moment, you were stunned into silence. João was shy by nature, but the raw honesty in his words caught you completely off guard.

“João,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “You know you’re ridiculous, right?”

His head shot up, his wide-eyed expression almost comically defensive. “What? Why?”

“Because you can’t just say something like that and expect me not to tease you about it.”

His lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile breaking through. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad? No.” You reached out, gently tugging at the sleeve of his jacket. “But I am going to make fun of you for it. Forever.”

João groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Great.”

“You brought this on yourself,” you said, unable to hold back your laughter now.

He dropped his hand and looked at you, his expression softening. “I don’t mind,” he admitted quietly.

That stopped you in your tracks. “You don’t mind?”

“No,” he said simply. “I like when you laugh. Even if it’s at me.”

Your chest tightened, warmth blooming under your ribs. For someone who spent his life under a spotlight, João had this incredible way of making moments feel intimate, like nothing else existed but the two of you.

“Okay,” you said, your voice quieter now. “I’ll give you a break this time.”

“Thank you,” he said, his smile breaking into something more boyish, more relieved. “But only this time?”

“Don’t push your luck, Félix,” you warned, though your tone was more playful than serious.

He laughed, the sound low and warm, and reached out to take your hand. “Deal.”

As you walked out of the studio together, João’s fingers laced with yours, you couldn’t help but glance up at him. His eyes were on you again, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it.

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. João might be ridiculous, but he was your ridiculous—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

--------

[reve-de-sang]

for @vamptember -- Sept. 6: library / genderswap / shrine

Present-day AU, loustat. Going by the hints in the “Long Face” lyrics, Lestat is ready for commitment. Louis really, really isn’t. But they meet in the middle with a situationship. “We’re just having fun, yeah?” 

This is the opposite of fun for Lestat.

--

The secret compulsion was scathingly embarrassing, but Lestat was pretty sure he’d left a chunk of self-respect back in the 1950s. 

He heard the hotel room door click closed, and turned over in the tangled bedsheets. The condom wrapper was still under the pillow where he’d pushed it. He smoothed it out as best he could.

Alone again, he reached for his Hermès backpack by the nightstand and pulled out a weathered cigar box wrapped in a vintage--antique--sweater. He unraveled it. The box carried the branding of the cigars Louis used to smoke in the 30’s. Lestat had found it on eBay. It looked exactly like it should, and it made Lestat’s heart squeeze a little whenever he looked at it.

He flipped back the lid and mused on the contents.

An unfiltered cigarette butt swaddled in a small plastic bag (he’d learned these tended to disintegrate easily without care). Fifteen plastic hotel room key cards from hotels spanning the globe. A pilfered earbud. A stolen cufflink. A flyer from that club in Chicago. Various branded condom wrappers (Louis wanted condoms now. He said found it more efficient, and he no longer seemed interested in Lestat eating his spend out of Louis. Each condom wrapper collected here made Lestat’s heart squeeze in the bad way.) Louis’s business card. One of the twenty dollar bills Louis had intended to leave for housekeeping in Atlanta (that Lestat had replaced with one of his own). A button. The wrapper from the hotel room soap Louis had used in Madrid. And his most prized possession, the strip of their photo booth photos Louis had gone along with, blitzed after a particularly intoxicated victim in Vegas. Louis hadn’t wanted any of the pictures when Lestat had offered to split them.

Everything was digital now—they had no letters, notes, tickets, receipts—but he could still find ties to the physical. None of these things smelled like Louis (the earbud and cufflink had disappointed him), and that quality was currently the brass ring.

As a treat—Louis was only meeting up for one night this time, it was going to be rough in the following days—Lestat slowly arranged the memorabilia like a small shrine on the bedside table. He propped the photo strip up against the lamp, and everything glowed under its light.

Lestat froze as he heard the hotel room door open, and Louis re-entered the suite. 

Louis strode through the bedroom door. “Forgot my jacket,” he said, grabbing it from the back of the chair by the desk. He paused on his way back out the bedroom door and noticed the collection on the nightstand. He raised an eyebrow as he fished for his pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket. “See you around, Lestat.”

He left.

Lestat’s face burned hot as he swept the collection off the glass tabletop and into the bedside trashcan. 

[keikakudori]

                                     how easily those eyes lingered upon the small blonde, his height no lessened for the fact that his posture was relaxed, confident. a hundred years had gone by from when his shoulders had been perhaps one of the largest things about him, his body filling out from whippet thin youth into the height of maturity. a fast growth, but the muscle had taken time to come in. how he smiled, though, as if to reassure.

                                     or, perhaps, it was merely the calm before a potential storm.

                                     still, he was not truly bothered by the way that izuru seemed to stumble over his own answer to the simple question; why are you here?

                                     so he listened, waiting with that considerable patience that had seen him through the decades between the night which had seen his captain and others entering exile before a haori marked with three slashes of black had settled upon thin shoulders. and moreover, that patience had seen him through more than a hundred years of carefully meticulous work.

                                     thus it was that he waited for the answer, considering, watching - but never pressing. the blonde would speak in his own time, after all, and it gave the tea time to cool. even while he waited, those large hands moved, adding a bit of honey to the dark-toned choice of the day and stirring it in slowly before a smile touched his mouth once the answer emerged into the air. ah. how charming, really.

                                     ❝ you just moved, is it? what a fascinating notion. i can say, after all, that you are truly an exemplary man, kira-kun. you are the true model of a lieutenant; brave, loyal, and unwilling to see abuse aimed towards your captain. ❞

                                     was that a compliment? a proclamation that he was well aware of how izuru had stepped in between gin and momo? both?

                                     or perhaps it remained a reminder too that, no matter how brief a time it had been, izuru had been part of his own division.

                                     or maybe aizen was just screwing with him.

                                     he had left the handling of izuru up to gin, not stepping into that situation, and had been aware that izuru had led toshiro and rangiku both away though the boy had returned quickly enough. he had commented on it to gin; hitsugaya-taichou's returned earlier and in better shape than expected. the flippant reply of how gin had overestimated the effectiveness of his diversion on the other hand ... it was something to wonder about.

                                     still, his gaze took izuru in now, mouth still curled into a smile --- those eyes still probing, intent and intense alike, still ready to swallow him up.

                                     to be beneath the scrutiny of aizen sousuke was a heady, potent thing; the man who remained the source of that focus could perhaps speak on it later, if he were to know, and aizen had little doubt that gin was lurking nearby or observing through one of the surveillance systems. but no, there was little for the viper to worry about. not really.

                                     it was, however, a situation where aizen did want answers.

                                     up came the cup and he sipped at the tea, that unblinking gaze still upon the almost delicate features of the young man who sat across from him. the white was deliberate; against the monochrome surroundings, colors flashed bright. but then, were not the stands and sky outside also of singular palettes themselves? better questions to ask might be of how long it had taken for this place to be constructed, of the plans drawn up, of when it was that aizen had chosen to place the seat of his power here instead of at another locale in this realm.

                                     perhaps they would get to those questions, eventually.

                                     ❝ still -- i find it curious that your response was to show up and throw yourself into following us here. ❞

                                     now was when the smile faded and the auguring stare of those shades of mahogany seemed to sharpen even further, if that were possible --- yet possible it was as the traces of good humor faded into something far more serious while aizen partook of what he saw in izuru here and now.

                                     ❝ you see -- i am trying to decide on what should be done with you. i certainly won't send you back to the seireitei; not with what you've seen here so far. ❞ a dreadful hint of what might've been perhaps best to dispose of you almost seemed to skirt the edges of the conversation. ❝ your presence is an unknown factor. i know how well your loyalty to gin stands, given you were willing to step in to stop hinamori-kun from attacking him, but... ❞

                                     a tap of a finger against the mug he held.

                                     ❝ the situation, you see, raises all sorts of questions in my mind --- and makes me wonder how far your loyalty goes. if you are willing to follow him here -- then how far are you willing to walk down the path after him? if you are loyal to gin, then by extension, that means you are loyal to me too, after all. or do you disagree with that notion? ❞

                                     how dark those eyes were as he beheld izuru, the faint smile displaced in favor of a sternness that had been quite familiar in his time serving as a captain. truthfulness was the best bet; deception was not possible beneath that stare. not for someone like izuru.

     Aizen’s voice goes down warm like a shot of whiskey, amber and rich and intoxicating. As it has ever been. Izuru has never had this man’s attention so fixed on him before, but now, standing under the proverbial spotlight with Aizen as like his ‘ captive audience ‘, he thinks that he can see how such focus must have lured others in. Like insects to a honey-laced trap.

     If Izuru doesn’t watch his step, he will be ensnared. There are so many ways that Aizen could kill him; he has already seen what monstrous means the man will go to dispose of anyone who has lost their ‘ usefulness’ to him. Izuru cannot even imagine what would become of him if he somehow managed to invoke Aizen’s ire, or confirm whatever suspicions he has of the former lieutenant. Maybe Izuru’s already dead and he hasn’t realized it yet.

     What else can he do but what he’s told? Somehow, despite the tunnel-vision blinkering him to all but Aizen, Izuru’s hand manages to find the back of the chair and pull it out for him to take its seat.

     ❝ I’m here… ❞

     A false start. Is he here, though? His mind stalls. His mouth is dry and the words stick to its insides like sharp burrs.

     He just doesn’t…have an answer. His gaze slides off from Aizen’s and falls to the pristine surface of the table between them. Everything about this place────Las Noches, was it?────feels so…sterile. Nothing can hide in the blinding white.

     ❝ I don’t really know why, ❞ he admits. ❝ I just…moved. ❞