#I started watching the stage play 😭😭

[astrxq]

Stage Light, Palace Light .II

jacaerys velaryon x theatre!reader

words: 10.8k

notes: tumblr won’t let me post this as a full fic so i’m dividing in half… though i think that kind of takes away from the whole thing, it’s the only way for me to post it :(( i hope the length doesn’t scare you away 😭

content!!: jacaerys secretly attends a theater in town, disguised as a commoner. captivated by a fearless and enchanting penniless actress, he asks for a private reading of one of her plays for a chance to see her again. — luke is alive in this, notttt following canon events obviously.

both parts will be posted simultaneously!! so you don’t have to wait for me to upload it if you want to read it :) — [tap here for part 1!]

Through the castle's stained glass windows, the moon cast fractured patterns across Jacaerys's chambers. He sat at his desk, turning the sapphire ring over and over in his hands, watching how the moonlight caught in its facets. The familiar weight of it felt wrong now, tainted by the memory of your fingers pressing it into his palm.

A soft knock at his door made him start, quickly slipping the ring onto his finger. "Enter," he called, his voice rougher than intended.

Lucerys's familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway. "Well, this is new," his brother said lightly, though his eyes were sharp with concern. "You're actually in your chambers at this hour? I had to check twice to make sure I had the right room."

Jacaerys didn't respond, his thumb absently running over the dragon engravings on his ring. Lucerys's casual stance shifted, and he closed the door behind him with deliberate care.

"Jace?" he asked, dropping the teasing tone. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Jacaerys replied automatically, the practiced lie tasting bitter on his tongue. "I'm just tired."

Lucerys crossed the room, settling into the chair across from his brother's desk. "You've been 'just tired' all day. Barely touched your food at dinner. Haven't gone near the stables." He paused, studying Jacaerys's face in the moonlight. "Haven't sneaked out to wherever it is you've been disappearing to for the past months."

Jacaerys's hands stilled on the ring. He seemed to think for a second. “Yeah, just tired.”

“It blew up on your face, didn’t it?”

Jacaerys flinched at his brother's words, his fingers tightening reflexively around the ring. The moonlight caught his profile, highlighting the shadows under his eyes and the tension in his jaw.

"That obvious, was it?" he asked, his voice hollow.

Lucerys leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Only to someone who's been covering for you."

He watched as Jacaerys resumed fidgeting with the ring. In the dim light, it took him a moment to recognize the glint of their house seal on the sapphire ring.

"So that's where it went," Lucerys said softly, letting the door close behind him. "I thought you'd lost it."

Jacaerys didn't look up, his fingers still tracing the dragon engravings. "I did lose it," he said, his voice rough. "She found it."

Lucerys stilled. There was no need to ask who 'she' was – he'd watched his brother sneak out enough nights to guess. "Ah," he said carefully, moving to lean against the window frame.

The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft scrape of metal against metal as Jacaerys continued to turn the ring.

"She gave it back," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Pressed it into my hand like it was burning her." He let out a bitter laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Told me to go home. To go back where I belong."

Lucerys watched his brother carefully, noting how his shoulders curved inward, how his normally perfect posture had crumbled.

"It was always coming, wasn't it?" Lucerys said softly, though there was sympathy in his voice. "You did lie to her, after all."

"You're not helping," Jacaerys snapped, the words sharper than he'd intended. His hands were white-knuckled around the ring now, the dragon engravings surely leaving marks in his palm.

"I'm not trying to help," Lucerys replied, moving closer to rest a hand on his brother's tense shoulder. "I'm trying to understand. All these months, what did you think would happen?"

Jacaerys shrugged off his brother's touch, standing abruptly. The moonlight caught his face, revealing the raw anguish there. "I didn't think," he admitted, his voice cracking. "I just... I wanted to be near her. To be someone who could be near her."

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "Gods, you should have seen her face when she realized. Like I'd broken something irreparable."

Jacaerys dropped his hands, staring unseeing at the moonlit patterns on his desk. "She called me 'Your Grace' at the end. Like she was trying to remind herself who I really was." His voice turned bitter. "Who I've always been, apparently."

Lucerys was quiet for a long moment, watching his brother's reflection in the glass. "What was she like?" he finally asked. "When you were just Jace to her?"

The question seemed to physically pain Jacaerys. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, his breath fogging the surface.

The raw longing in his voice made Lucerys's chest ache for his brother. "And now?"

"Now she looks at me like I'm exactly what I am," Jacaerys said bitterly. "A liar. A prince. A fool who thought he could have something real in a life built on pretense."

Lucerys watched as his brother's fingers pressed against the window pane, leaving ghostly prints in the condensation. "She taught me her lines sometimes," Jacaerys said, his voice distant. "Said I had a gift for tragedy." A broken laugh escaped him. "I suppose she was right about that."

"Jace..." Lucerys started, but his brother wasn't finished.

"She tried to be so proper about it, so careful. 'My prince' this and 'Your Grace' that, like she was trying to build walls between us with every title." His forehead pressed harder against the window. "I think I preferred it when she was angry."

"Was she?"

"For a moment. But then she just looked... sad." Jacaerys turned suddenly, his eyes bright in the darkness.

"She has this laugh," he continued, "when something genuinely surprises her. Not the polite one she uses for the audience, but this bright, startled sound. And when she's really focused on something, she bites her lower lip, right at the corner..." His voice cracked. "Gods, Luke, what am I supposed to do?"

"You know what you have to do," Lucerys said gently. "What you've always had to do."

Jacaerys's forehead pressed harder against the glass.

"Brother..." Lucerys stepped closer, but Jacaerys waved him off.

"I can still feel her hands," he whispered, staring down at his own trembling fingers. "When she gave the ring back. She was so gentle about it, even then. Like she was afraid of hurting me, after everything I'd done to her." A ragged laugh escaped him. "She even fixed my cloak before sending me away. 'It's not safe for a prince to be out so late,'" he mimicked, his voice cracking on the words.

"You're going to make yourself sick," Lucerys observed quietly, noting how his brother's shoulders shook.

"Maybe I deserve to be," Jacaerys replied, but there was no heat in it, just a bone-deep exhaustion. He slumped back into his chair, the moonlight casting harsh shadows across his face.

Lucerys watched his brother for a long moment, then sighed softly. "I'll tell mother you've caught something," he said, moving to perch on the edge of the desk. "A fever or stomach ailment. Something that'll keep you out of court for a few days at least."

Jacaerys looked up sharply. "You don't have to–"

"Please," Lucerys cut him off with a wry smile. "You look wretched enough that no one would question it. And those tedious trade negotiations with the Iron Bank representatives can survive without you staring miserably into space."

"I wouldn't–"

"You would. You are." Lucerys gestured to where Jacaerys's fingers still worried at the ring. "Besides, I doubt anyone wants to hear your thoughts on maritime tariffs when you're like this. You'd probably accidentally start a war just to have something else to be miserable about."

That earned him a ghost of a smile, though it faded quickly. "The maesters will want to examine me," Jacaerys pointed out.

"Let me handle them." Lucerys waved a dismissive hand. "I'll tell them you've got that stomach bug that's been going around the kitchens. No one wants to get too close to that." He paused, studying his brother's drawn face. "Take a few days, Jace. Get some sleep. Stop turning that ring before you wear through it."

Jacaerys's hands stilled, though he didn't let go of the ring. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"Don't thank me yet," Lucerys replied, standing. "I'm still going to make you tell me everything about her eventually. When you're ready." He moved toward the door, then paused.

"And Jace? Try to actually sleep, would you? Brooding in moonlight might suit your current mood, but you look terrible."

"Thanks," Jacaerys said dryly, but there was genuine gratitude in his voice.

Once the door closed behind his brother, Jacaerys turned back to the window. The moon had shifted, casting new patterns across his chambers, but he barely noticed. His mind was still in a torch-lit theater, replaying the gentle pressure of your hands as you straightened his cloak one last time.

***

The days blurred together in Jacaerys's chambers, marked only by the rotating cast of concerned visitors. His mother would sweep in each morning, her silks rustling as she pressed a cool hand to his forehead, murmuring about his pallor. The maesters followed with their endless questions and concoctions, puzzling over symptoms they couldn't quite identify. None of them recognized the way his eyes kept straying to the window, to the city beyond where a certain theater's torches would be lighting for the evening performance.

Lucerys was the only one who didn't try to diagnose him, who simply sat in comfortable silence or brought books from the library that went unread. Sometimes he'd catch his brother staring at that sapphire ring and start talking about mundane castle gossip, a transparent but appreciated attempt at distraction.

Meanwhile, across the city, the theater carried on as it always had. You moved through your performances with practiced grace, delivering your lines perfectly, but something felt hollow now.

Each night, your eyes would drift to that shadowed corner where he used to sit, and each night you'd feel foolish for looking. The seat remained empty – not by design, simply by chance – but it felt like a physical presence, a reminder of everything that couldn't be.

Sometimes, during quiet moments between scenes, you'd catch yourself listening for familiar footsteps that never came. Your hand would brush against a dog-eared script, and you'd remember how he'd help you practice, the way his voice would shift with each character. The memory would make you pause, make your chest tight with an emotion you refused to name.

You told yourself it was selfish to miss him, to hope that somehow he'd appear in those shadows again. After all, hadn't you been the one to send him away? Hadn't you been right to do so? But still, each night, your eyes would search the crowd, and each night, that empty seat seemed to mock you with possibilities that could never be.

In his chambers, Jacaerys would press his forehead against the cool glass of his window, knowing that somewhere out there, you were performing. He wondered if you still bit your lip when concentrating on a difficult scene, if you still gestured with your scripts when explaining something passionate. He wondered if you thought of him at all, or if you'd already begun the process of forgetting the false dock worker who'd turned out to be a prince.

The week crawled by, measured in missed performances and untouched meals, in concerned looks and knowing silences. In the end, you were both right – it was impossible, it could never work, it had to end this way. But knowing that didn't stop either of you from searching – him through his window, you through your crowds – for something you knew you wouldn't find.

Lucerys had always been the softer of the brothers – both in appearance and temperament. Where Jacaerys had inherited their father's sharp features and commanding presence, Lucerys's face held a gentler cast, his smile coming easier, his manner more approachable. He was the one who smoothed ruffled feathers at court, who knew all the servants' names, who could talk his way out of trouble with nothing but charm and well-placed sympathy.

And he was also, notably, the one who meddled.

Which was precisely what he was doing now, standing before his mirror and adjusting a dark cloak that was decidedly less fine than his usual attire. His chambers were quiet save for the soft rustle of fabric as he secured the clasp, mentally reviewing the path through the castle that would draw the least attention. He'd spent enough time covering for Jacaerys's excursions to know exactly which guards were amenable to looking the other way, which corridors were least patrolled at this hour.

The Jacaerys he knew would have at least tried to sneak out by now, would have found some excuse to pass by the theater, even if just to torture himself with a glimpse. But instead, he'd spent the week alternating between staring out his window and turning that sapphire ring over and over in his hands, barely eating, barely sleeping.

No, this wouldn't do at all. And if Jacaerys wouldn't go to the theater, well... Lucerys tugged his hood lower, checking his reflection one last time. Someone would have to go in his stead.

After all, what were younger brothers for, if not to meddle in matters of the heart?

From his hidden vantage point in the shadows – the same corner his brother had haunted for months – Lucerys watched you command the stage. It took him less than a minute to understand why Jacaerys had been so thoroughly captivated. You moved with a natural grace that had nothing to do with practiced choreography, your voice carrying to every corner of the room without losing its intimate quality.

Your eyes would drift to this shadowed corner, just for a moment, before you caught yourself and looked away. It was such a small thing, so quick most wouldn't notice, but Lucerys saw how your smile would falter slightly afterward, how your hands would fidget with your scripts in a gesture that seemed born of recent habit.

He recognized the look in your eyes – he'd seen its mirror in Jacaerys's chambers all week. The same careful mask of composure, the same barely concealed longing, the same hurt trying to disguise itself as acceptance.

You nearly missed your cue when you first spotted the cloaked figure, your heart leaping traitorously before you caught the subtle differences – the softer jaw, the way he held himself without that familiar tension. When he shifted and scratched his cheek, revealing features that echoed Jacaerys' but didn't quite match, you knew exactly who had come to your theater.

As the last remnants of the audience filtered out, their conversations fading into the night, you moved through your familiar closing routine. Scripts needed to be gathered, props returned to their places, torches extinguished one by one. It was methodical work, the kind that usually helped quiet your mind after a performance.

But lately, each task seemed to carry its own weight of memory – the way he would help you sort the pages, how he'd lean against that column while you checked the props, his quiet laugh when you'd dramatically recite lines while cleaning.

You were reaching for a fallen script when you felt it – that familiar presence in the shadows. The quality of the silence was wrong, the weight of the presence slightly off. Still, you kept your back turned, your fingers gripping the script too tightly as you spoke.

"You know, for someone raised in a castle, you Targaryens have a terrible habit of lurking in shadows."

There was a soft exhale behind you – not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh – and you knew immediately it wasn't Jacaerys. This breath carried a different cadence, a lighter note.

"Ah," came a voice that was similar to his but softer around the edges, "I suppose some habits run in the family."

You turned then, slowly, to find a figure standing where Jacaerys used to wait. The hood was the same, the stance similar, but everything else was just slightly different – like looking at a familiar painting that had been done by a different hand.

"Prince Lucerys," you said softly, without hesitation.

You'd heard of him at public events, of course – the gentler brother, the one who could charm a crowd with a smile. He looked the same as Jacaerys, only with softened features which made it obvious he was younger.

Your hands fidgeted with the script, an unconscious echo of nervousness. "I assume you're not here to audition."

He pushed back his hood, his smile was apologetic, but his eyes were sharp with assessment.

"No," he agreed, staying where he was as if afraid of spooking you. "Though I must say, I understand now why my brother spent so many nights here. You're quite captivating on stage."

You turned away, busying yourself with straightening already-neat piles of parchment. "If you're here about Jacaerys–"

"He doesn't know I'm here," Lucerys interrupted gently. "In fact, he'd probably be furious if he knew. He's spent the week in his chambers, supposedly ill with some mysterious ailment that has the maesters quite confused."

Your hands stilled on the papers. "I'm sorry to hear he's unwell," you said carefully, your voice steady despite the way your heart clenched. "But I'm not sure what that has to do with me."

"Isn't it obvious?" Lucerys's voice was kind, almost too kind. "He's not sick. He's heartbroken."

You closed your eyes briefly, willing your voice to remain neutral. "That's hardly my concern anymore, Your Grace."

"Please," he said, "if you're going to break my brother's heart, you might as well call me Lucerys."

When you faced him again, Lucerys's expression held none of the accusation you'd feared. Instead, there was something almost sad in his smile, like he was watching a tragedy unfold on stage.

"I didn't–" you started, then stopped, unsure how to finish that sentence. Didn't mean to? Didn't want to? Both felt like lies, and you'd had enough of those lately.

"I know," Lucerys said softly. "Neither did he." He moved closer, but carefully, like approaching a nervous animal. "He's been staring out his window for days, you know. Always in the direction of the theater. Turning that ring over and over until I thought he'd wear a groove in it."

Your throat tightened at the image. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I've never seen my brother like this before." Lucerys's voice was quiet but intent. "He's always been the perfect prince – duty first, propriety above all. Until you." He tilted his head, studying you. "Do you know what he said to me? That you taught him how to laugh. How to be human."

You turned away sharply, but not before he caught the flash of pain across your face. "It doesn't matter what he said. What either of us said. Some things are impossible."

"Impossible?" Lucerys repeated thoughtfully. "Or just difficult?"

"Both," you said firmly, though your voice wavered slightly. "He's a prince, I'm a–"

"A remarkably talented performer who made my brother happier than I've ever seen him," Lucerys interrupted. "Who, if I'm not mistaken, misses him just as much as he misses you."

"That's not fair," you whispered.

"No," he agreed softly. "None of this is fair. But I'm not here to talk about what's fair. I'm here because my brother hasn't eaten properly in days, because he looks at that ring like it's both salvation and torture, because he keeps whispering your lines to himself when he thinks no one can hear."

A bitter laugh escaped you, though it sounded more like a sob. "The night he lost the ring..." You shook your head, turning back to face Lucerys. "He was already pulling away. Even before I found it, he was... distant. Guilty. Like he'd finally remembered who he was, who I..." You swallowed hard. "It was so easy to believe he'd just wanted some fun with a common girl. A story to tell his noble friends about the theater performer he'd charmed."

Lucerys's face softened with understanding. "That's what you thought? That he was just..."

"What else was I supposed to think?" Your voice cracked slightly. "He was withdrawing, making excuses, before he even knew I had the found his ring." Your fingers twisted in your skirts.

"He was scared," Lucerys said quietly. "Not of you finding out, exactly, but of losing you once you did. He'd convinced himself that the moment you knew who he really was, everything would change."

A sad smile crossed his face. "I suppose he was right about that, at least."

"Everything did change," you whispered. "Because everything had been a lie."

"Was it?" Lucerys asked, his voice gentle but challenging.

You pressed your lips together, fighting back the sting in your eyes. "It doesn't matter if they were. A prince can't... we can't..."

"Can't what?" Lucerys pressed. "Can't care for each other? Can't find moments of happiness in each other's company?" He paused, watching you carefully. "Can't love each other?"

The word hung in the air between you, making your chest ache. "Please," you said softly, "don't make this harder than it already is."

Lucerys sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture so similar to his brother's that it made your heart clench. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes distant as if working through a puzzle. Then he looked at you with renewed focus.

“What if..." he started, then paused, choosing his words carefully. "What if the castle requested a reading of one of your monologues?"

You stilled, looking at him warily. "What?"

"It wouldn't be unusual," he continued, his voice taking on that careful diplomatic tone you imagined he used in court. "The castle often hosts performers. And that piece you did tonight – the one about the warrior queen – it has historical significance. Educational value." His lips quirked. "The sort of thing that would be entirely appropriate for a royal audience."

"Are you..." You shook your head in disbelief. "Are you trying to orchestrate an official reason for me to..."

"To be in the castle? Where my brother wouldn't have to sneak around in hoods and lies?" Lucerys shrugged, but his eyes were sharp. "It would be completely proper. Above board. Just a performer doing what performers do – sharing stories with those who wish to hear them."

"My prince–"

"Lucerys," he corrected gently.

“Lucerys," you amended, "you can't possibly think that would solve anything. One performance wouldn't change who he is, or who I am, or–"

"No," he agreed. "But it might be a start. A chance to see each other in the light, without pretense." He tilted his head. "Unless you truly don't want to see him again?"

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with possibility.

***

Lucerys burst into Jacaerys's chambers with more force than necessary, finding his brother surrounded by the usual crowd of concerned maesters. The room smelled of various herbal concoctions, and Jacaerys looked thoroughly miserable as they debated his mysterious symptoms.

"Out," Lucerys commanded, channeling their mother's authoritative tone. "All of you. I need to speak with my brother."

The maesters hesitated, exchanging glances. "My prince, we haven't finished–"

"You've been 'not finished' for a week," Lucerys cut in. "And remarkably, my brother is still alive. Now out." He softened it with a diplomatic smile. "Please. Court matters."

Once the door closed behind the last grumbling maester, Lucerys turned to his brother. Jacaerys was still in bed, looking pale and disheveled, the sapphire ring glinting on his finger.

"Get up," Lucerys said, moving to Jacaerys's wardrobe and pulling out clothes.

"What?"

"Up. Now." Lucerys threw a fresh tunic at his brother's head. "You need to be dressed and presentable in the next quarter hour."

Jacaerys caught the tunic reflexively but didn't move to put it on. "Why?"

"Because," Lucerys said, now rummaging for appropriate boots, "there's going to be a performance in the great hall, and you need to look like a prince instead of a lovesick ghost."

"I'm not attending any performances," Jacaerys said flatly, though something flickered in his eyes at the word.

"Yes, you are." Lucerys threw a pair of boots beside the bed with more force than necessary. "It's a historical piece. Very educational. Mother specifically requested your presence."

"Luke–"

"And," Lucerys continued, now advancing on his brother with determined purpose, "if you don't get out of that bed right now, I will tell mother exactly why you've been 'sick' all week. I'm sure she'd love to hear about your nightly visits to the theater district."

Jacaerys stared at him, a mix of betrayal and confusion crossing his features. "You wouldn't."

"Try me." Lucerys grabbed his brother's arm, physically pulling him up. "Now get dressed. And for gods' sake, do something with your hair. You look like you've been wrestling with ravens."

"Luke, what are you–"

"Twelve minutes," Lucerys interrupted, already heading for the door. "If you're not ready by then, I'm sending the maesters back in. All of them. With their most experimental remedies."

The door closed behind him with a decisive click, leaving Jacaerys standing bewildered in the middle of his chambers, clutching a fresh tunic and wondering what exactly his brother had planned.

Jacaerys stood at the back of the great hall, tugging uncomfortably at his formal attire. The past hour had been a blur of Lucerys's insistent shepherding, servants fussing with his appearance, and his own mounting irritation. Now he lingered in the shadows – a habit he couldn't seem to break – watching as various nobles filtered in.

"Stop fidgeting," Lucerys murmured beside him. "You look like you're attending an execution rather than a performance."

"Maybe I am," Jacaerys muttered back, his fingers absently finding the ring on his hand. "My execution, if Mother realizes I'm not actually sick."

"You'll thank me later."

"Doubtful." Jacaerys leaned against a column, falling into the familiar melancholy that had haunted him all week. Even the grand hall's usual splendor seemed dulled, the afternoon light filtering through the high windows doing nothing to lift his spirits. His mind kept drifting to another performance space, torch-lit and intimate, where—

The great doors opened, and two members of the Kingsguard entered. Jacaerys barely glanced up, used to the ceremonial display of court life. But then he caught a glimpse of who they were escorting, and his whole world tilted on its axis.

You stood between the guards, clutching a script in hands that trembled slightly. You wore your best performance dress, your hair arranged more formally than he'd ever seen it, but you were unmistakably, achingly you. The afternoon sun caught you differently than torchlight had, making you look both familiar and strange, like a dream he'd had too many times to count.

His breath caught audibly, making Lucerys smirk beside him.

"Luke," he whispered, his voice rough with panic and something else entirely, "what did you do?"

But Lucerys just smiled, watching as you were formally announced to the court. Your eyes hadn't found Jacaerys yet, fixed carefully on some middle distance as you followed the guards' lead. But your fingers worried at the corner of your script in that familiar way that made Jacaerys's chest ache.

"Breathe, brother," Lucerys murmured, noting how Jacaerys's hands had gone white-knuckled on his chair's armrests. "She's here to perform the warrior queen's monologue. Very educational. Historical significance and all that."

"I'm going to kill you," Jacaerys breathed, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You looked so out of place and yet so perfectly right, like a character from one of your plays stepped into reality.

And then you looked up, your eyes finally meeting his across the great hall. The script trembled visibly in your hands for just a moment before you steadied yourself. Something passed between you in that look – recognition, longing, fear, hope – all wrapped in the formal distance required by your surroundings.

Jacaerys forgot to breathe entirely.

"Kill me later," Lucerys said softly, satisfaction clear in his voice.

"For now, just watch. And breathe, for gods' sake, before you actually do need those maesters."

But Jacaerys barely heard him. He was too caught up in the way you held yourself – proud despite your obvious nervousness, every inch the performer even in these overwhelming surroundings. You looked different in the daylight, more vulnerable somehow, but also stronger. The sun caught the subtle tremor in your hands as you opened your script, a gesture he'd seen a hundred times in candlelight.

A hush fell over the hall as you began to speak. Your voice carried differently here than in the theater, the acoustics grander, but the emotion in your words was just as intimate. It was the warrior queen's monologue – the one you'd practiced with him late one night, when he'd read the opposing lines and you'd laughed at his terrible attempts at different voices.

He knew every word, every pause, every subtle shift in your expression. But watching you now, in the harsh light of reality rather than the forgiving shadows of the theater, felt like seeing you for the first time all over again. You weren't just performing for the court – you were commanding the space, making the grand hall feel as intimate as your small stage had been.

His fingers found the ring again, tracing its familiar edges. You reached a particular line – one where you always bit your lip slightly before delivering it – and his breath caught again as you did exactly that, the gesture so achingly familiar it hurt.

"Stop looking at her like that," Lucerys whispered. "People will notice."

"How else am I supposed to look at her?" Jacaerys breathed back, not taking his eyes off you.

"Like a prince watching a performance," Lucerys replied. "Not like a man watching his heart perform in front of the entire court."

But it was too late for that kind of pretense. Because you'd reached the climax of the monologue – the part where your voice always carried a particular kind of raw honesty – and your eyes found his again, just for a moment. In that look was everything: the nights in the theater, the weight of secrets, the gentle press of your fingers returning his ring, the impossible distance between who you both were and who you'd pretended to be.

And Jacaerys knew, with sudden, crushing clarity, that he would never be able to look at you any other way.

Queen Rhaenyra leaned forward slightly in her seat, her eyes bright with genuine interest as your performance drew to a close. The great hall remained silent for a heartbeat after your final words, before breaking into appropriate, measured applause.

"Remarkable," she murmured, her voice carrying that particular tone that made both her sons tense slightly. "To memorize such a lengthy piece..." She turned to Jacaerys, and there was something knowing in her smile that made his stomach drop. "Wouldn't you agree, sweetling?"

Jacaerys forced himself to meet his mother's gaze, though he could feel Lucerys shifting nervously beside him. "Yes," he managed, his voice steadier than he felt.

"The theater district has always produced exceptional talent," Lucerys offered smoothly, but Rhaenyra's attention remained on her eldest son.

"Indeed," she said softly. A small smile played at the corners of her mouth as she watched Jacaerys's fingers unconsciously find his ring again.

He forced himself to meet her gaze, finding not the judgment he feared but something softer, more knowing.

"Mhmm," Rhaenyra hummed, her eyes drifting back to where you stood.

"The court always needs cultural enrichment," she said, rising gracefully. "And that was indeed an... educational performance." Her eyes met his, sharp with understanding. "Perhaps we should arrange more of them."

Your voice carried through the final lines, steady despite the way Jacaerys could see your hands trembling slightly around your script. The court burst into appreciative applause – of course they did, how could they not when you'd made the grand hall feel as intimate as a torch-lit theater? – but he barely heard it over the rushing in his ears.

You dipped into a perfect curtsy, every inch the professional performer. But as you straightened, your eyes found his again, and for a moment the carefully constructed walls of propriety cracked. There was something raw in your expression, something that made his chest ache with recognition.

"Breathe," Lucerys murmured again, nudging him slightly. "The entire court doesn't need to see you looking like you've been struck by lightning."

But how could he breathe when you were there, so close yet impossibly far, being led away by the Kingsguard as formally as you'd entered? Your back was straight, your steps measured, but he knew you well enough to see the tension in your shoulders, the way your fingers still worried at the corner of your script.

"I need to–" he started, already half-rising from his seat.

Lucerys caught his arm. "Not yet," he said quietly. "Wait until the court disperses. Unless you want to cause a scene that would make both your positions more difficult?"

Jacaerys sank back down, his fingers finding the ring again. A nervous tick of his.

"Turns out," Lucerys said softly, watching as you disappeared through the great doors, "You’re not the only one who's been miserable this past week." He paused, then added, "She looks at that empty seat in the theater the same way you look out your window, you know."

Jacaerys closed his eyes briefly, the words hitting him like a physical blow.

Lucerys's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, but they ignited something sharp in Jacaerys. His eyes snapped open, narrowing as he turned to his younger brother, who was still watching the now-closed doors with a smug, self-satisfied expression.

"You went to the theater?" Jacaerys hissed, his voice low and furious.

Lucerys barely spared him a glance, his nonchalant demeanor only fueling Jacaerys's anger. "Someone had to check on her," Lucerys replied, crossing his arms. "You certainly weren't going to."

"You had no right," Jacaerys snapped, keeping his voice low enough to avoid drawing attention but failing to mask the edge of his temper. "You don't get to meddle in this. Do you have any idea–"

"Do you?" Lucerys cut him off, his tone sharper now as he turned to face his brother fully. “I brought her here, didn’t I?”

Jacaerys stiffened, his jaw tightening. "That’s not the point, Luke. You went behind my back–"

"Because you weren’t doing anything!" Lucerys shot back, his voice rising slightly before he checked himself, glancing around the room.

"Luke..."

"She'll be escorted to the eastern solar," Lucerys continued casually, as if he hadn't just shaken his brother's entire world. "To rest after her performance. It's only proper to offer refreshments to our honored performers, after all." He stood, stretching deliberately. "The guard rotation changes in about ten minutes. Just in case you were wondering, though I bet you knew that already."

With that, he left Jacaerys alone with his thoughts, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the great hall as the court slowly emptied around him.

Jacaerys found himself standing outside the eastern solar far too soon and not soon enough. His heart hammered against his ribs as he noted the momentarily empty corridor – Lucerys's timing, no doubt. The same patterns of afternoon light that had caught in your hair during the performance now spilled across the floor at his feet, making patterns that reminded him of torch shadows.

He raised his hand to knock, then hesitated. What could he possibly say? 'I'm sorry' felt inadequate. 'I miss you' felt too raw. 'You were magnificent' felt too formal. All of them felt like poor substitutes for the tangle of emotions in his chest.

Before he could decide, the door opened, and suddenly you were there. You must have heard his footsteps, must have been waiting. You wore the same dress from the performance, but your hair had started to escape its formal arrangement, soft wisps falling around your face in a way that made his fingers itch to brush them back.

For a long moment, you just stared at each other. The silence stretched between you, heavy with everything unsaid.

"My prince," you finally murmured, dropping into a curtsy that felt like a blade between his ribs.

"Don't," he whispered, the word rough in his throat. "Please, not you. Not after..." He gestured helplessly, unable to find words for what he meant. Not after you'd known him as just Jace, not after you'd laughed with him in shadows, not after you'd taught him how to be human instead of just a prince.

You straightened from your curtsy but didn't meet his eyes, your fingers worrying at your script in that achingly familiar way. "I don't know what else to call you anymore."

"My name," he said softly. "Just... just my name. Like before."

Your eyes finally met his, and the raw honesty there made his breath catch.

“How are you?" he asked softly, the question feeling simultaneously inadequate and overwhelming. He wanted to ask so much more – how had your week been, did you still bite your lip when practicing new lines, did you miss him as desperately as he missed you?

You let out a small, bitter laugh. "I'm..." Your fingers traced the edge of your script. "I've been better. The theater feels... different now."

"Different how?" His voice was barely above a whisper, afraid to break whatever fragile moment this was.

"Emptier," you admitted, then seemed to regret the honesty. "Though that's foolish, isn't it? It's not as if we ever sold out performances. One empty seat shouldn't matter."

"But it does," he said quietly, understanding exactly what you meant. His fingers found the ring again, a habit he couldn't seem to break. You noticed the movement, your eyes following it before quickly looking away.

Your eyes lingered on where his fingers traced the ring before you forced them away. "I suppose it does," you said softly. "Though it shouldn't. Just like I shouldn't keep expecting to turn around and find you in the shadows."

"I wanted to come back," he admitted, his voice rough. "Every night this week, I've stood at my window, thinking about how easy it would be to just..."

"Put on a hood and pretend?" There was no bite to your words, just a quiet sadness. "We can't go back to that, Jacaerys. You know we can't”

The sound of his name on your lips made his chest ache. "I know. But I miss..." He paused, struggling to find the right words. "I miss how you'd gesture with your scripts when you were excited about a scene. How you'd laugh when I tried different voices for the characters. How you–“

"Please don't," you whispered, but he continued anyway, the words spilling out like he couldn't stop them.

"How you'd bite your lip right before a difficult line – like you did today, with the warrior queen's speech. How you'd let me help you practice, even though I was terrible at it. How you made me forget about titles and duties and just feel..."

"Real?" you offered quietly, and he nodded, the simple word capturing everything he'd been trying to say.

"You were the most real thing in my life," he said, taking a step closer. "Are. The most real thing."

You didn't step back, but your fingers tightened on your script. "And what good does that do us? Being real doesn't change who you are, or who I am, or what's possible between us."

"Doesn't it?" He was close enough now to see the subtle tremor in your hands, to catch the faint scent of stage powder that always clung to your clothes. "You're here now, in the castle. Properly, formally. No hiding, no lies."

"For one performance," you reminded him gently. "One afternoon of pretending we're not what we are – a prince and a common performer who forgot their places for a while."

"Is that all it was to you?" he asked, his voice barely audible. "Just forgetting our places?"

Your eyes met his, and the honesty there made his heart stutter. "You know it wasn't," you whispered. "But sometimes knowing that makes it worse."

He wanted to reach for you, to brush back those escaped strands of hair, to remember how it felt to be close without the weight of titles between you. But he kept his hands at his sides, one thumb still absently tracing the ring.

"I dream about you," he admitted softly. "About the theater, about your laugh, about... about everything we could have been if I'd just been honest from the start."

"And what would that have changed?" you asked, but your voice wavered slightly. "Would it have made me more suitable? Made the court more accepting? Made any of this possible?"

"Maybe not," he conceded. "But at least it would have been real from the beginning. At least we could have faced it together, instead of..."

"Instead of me finding out from a ring?" The words were quiet but they hit home, making him flinch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Gods, I'm so sorry. I never meant..."

"I know you didn't," you said softly. "That's what makes it harder. Nothing about this was meant to hurt anyone, and yet..."

You took a shaky breath, taking a small step back. The afternoon light caught the unshed tears in your eyes, making them shine. "And yet here we are," you said softly, "still hurting each other by wanting impossible things."

"They don't have to be impossible," he said, but even he could hear the desperation in his voice. "We could..."

"Could what?" Your smile was gentle but heartbreaking. "Could meet in shadows forever? Could pretend that duty and birth and responsibility don't exist?" You shook your head. "You're a prince, Jacaerys. A good one. The kind who puts his people first, who understands duty, who..." Your voice caught. "Who shouldn't be asked to choose between his birthright and a common girl who performs in torchlight."

"Don't," he whispered, "don't talk about yourself like that."

"Like what? Like the truth?" You gestured to your performance dress, to the grand solar around you. "Look at where we are. Look at how many plans and schemes it took just for me to be here properly, just for one afternoon." Your fingers brushed his sleeve, so lightly he might have imagined it. "You belong in sunlight, my prince. Not hiding in theater shadows."

"I belong with you," he said roughly, but you were already shaking your head.

"No," you said softly. "You belong to your people, to your duty, to your name. And I..." You smiled, though it trembled at the edges. "I belong to my stories, to my stage, to the world we create in torchlight."

He reached for you then, unable to stop himself, but you stepped back. "Please," he whispered, though he wasn't sure what he was begging for.

He caught your wrist just as you were turning away, his touch feather-light. The guards would be returning any moment, but he couldn't let you leave, not yet, not like this.

"Would it be terribly improper," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, "for a theater performer to give the prince a goodbye kiss?"

You stilled, your back still to him, and for a moment he thought you would refuse. But then you turned, slowly, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of longing and resignation that made his chest ache.

“Terribly," you murmured, but you were already reaching for him, your fingers ghosting along his jaw. "Absolutely forbidden."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. "I won't tell if you won't."

Your laugh was soft and broken, but then your lips were on his, gentle and desperate all at once. It was different from your kiss in the town’s shadows – more bitter, more final. He could taste the salt of tears, though he wasn't sure if they were yours or his.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer for just a moment, memorizing the feeling of you against him one last time. Your fingers curled into his formal clothes, and he felt the script press between you, a reminder of everything that separated you.

The kiss ended too soon, both of you aware of the approaching sound of armored footsteps. You pulled back just enough to rest your forehead against his, your breath shaky.

And then you were gone, slipping back into the solar and closing the door between you just as the guards rounded the corner.

Jacaerys touched his fingers to his lips, where he could still taste the bittersweet mix of your kiss and your tears. The guards nodded respectfully as they passed, never knowing that they'd just missed watching a prince's heart break in the afternoon sun.

He turned from the solar, still touching his lips, only to nearly collide with his mother. Her silver hair caught the afternoon light, her expression curious as she steadied him.

"Careful, my love," she said, then peered past him toward the solar door. "Has our performer already left? I wanted to congratulate her personally. That warrior queen monologue was quite moving."

Jacaerys struggled to compose his features, though he knew his mother's sharp eyes missed little. "I believe she's still..." his voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat and tried again. "She's still inside, yes."

His mother's gaze sharpened, taking in his flushed face, the slight redness around his eyes, the way his fingers kept straying to his lips. "Feeling better, I see," she said carefully.

"Much better," he managed, though the words felt like ash in his mouth. "The maesters were very... thorough."

His mother studied him for a long moment, her eyes lingering on where his thumb was absently tracing his ring. Something flickered across her face – understanding, perhaps, or memory – but she simply smiled and patted his cheek.

"I'm glad," she said softly. "Though perhaps you should rest a bit more. You still look... unwell." There was a gentleness in her voice that made his throat tight, a careful kindness in how she didn't mention the obvious tears in his eyes or the tremor in his hands.

"Thank you, Mother," he whispered, grateful for her pretense, for allowing him this small dignity in his heartbreak.

She squeezed his arm once, then moved past him toward the solar door.

Then she was gone, slipping into the solar to congratulate the performer who had so moved the court, leaving Jacaerys alone in the corridor with the ghost of your kiss on his lips and his mother's words echoing in his ears.

He touched his mouth one last time, then forced his hand down to his side. The afternoon sun continued to spill through the windows, indifferent to how it had witnessed both a kiss and a farewell, both a beginning and an end.

Somewhere behind that closed door, you were probably curtsying to his mother, probably hiding your own tears behind proper words and formal gestures. And he would never know, because some moments couldn't last, no matter how desperately you wished they could.

***

The light was fading from Jacaerys's chambers, but he hadn't bothered to light any candles. He sat in his window seat, absently watching his younger brothers play on the floor with their wooden dragons. Aegon was making elaborate swooping noises while Viserys carefully arranged his army of carved soldiers.

The door opened quietly, and their mother's familiar silhouette appeared. Queen Rhaenyra smiled at the sight of her youngest sons sprawled across the floor, their games having thoroughly disrupted the usual order of the chamber.

"Mother!" Viserys called out, abandoning his soldiers to run to her. She caught him easily, pressing a kiss to his dark curls.

"My little dragons," she said warmly, then looked up at where Jacaerys sat, still staring out the window. The same window, she noted, that faced the direction of the theater district. "Jace?"

He turned slightly at his name, though his fingers continued to trace the sapphire ring. "Yes, Mother?"

Rhaenyra studied him for a moment, taking in the shadows under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. "Walk with me?" she asked softly.

Aegon looked up from his dragons, his young face scrunching in concern. "But Jace was going to tell us about the warrior queen! He promised!"

"Later, little one," Rhaenyra said, giving Jacaerys a meaningful look. "Your brother and I need to discuss some matters of court."

Jacaerys stood slowly, like every movement cost him effort. As he passed his brothers, he ruffled Aegon's hair, managing a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll tell you the story tonight," he promised. "All about the queen who had to choose between her heart and her crown."

Rhaenyra's expression softened at his words, and she held out her arm for him to take. Together, they left the chamber, leaving the younger princes to their games and wooden dragons, unaware of the real dragons that sometimes had to sacrifice their hearts for duty.

Jacaerys walked beside his mother through the sun-dappled corridors, his heart still heavy in his chest. She kept a leisurely pace, her silver hair catching the light as she spoke.

"You know," she said casually, as if discussing the weather, "mothers have a particular talent for knowing when their sons are lying." She cast him a sideways glance. "Even when those sons think themselves quite clever about it."

Jacaerys's steps faltered slightly. "Mother–"

"Your brother, for instance," she continued, her lips quirking in amusement, "is not nearly as accomplished at deception as he believes. He told me so many times that you were ill, I half expected to find you on your deathbed." She paused, her voice softening. "Instead, I found you sneaking out to the theater district nearly every night."

He stopped walking entirely, his face draining of color. "You knew?"

"My love," she said gently, turning to face him, "Did you think the town guards wouldn't recognize you, even in the dark?" Her eyes were kind as she studied his stricken expression. "Though I must admit, I didn't realize quite why you were so drawn to that particular theater until today."

Jacaerys closed his eyes briefly, his fingers fidgeting again. "I never meant to…”

"Lie?" His mother's voice held no accusation, only a soft understanding that somehow made it worse. "No, I don't suppose you did. Sometimes the heart leads us to do foolish things, even with the best intentions."

She reached up, smoothing an errant strand of hair from his face in a motherly gesture that made his throat tight. "Though next time," she added with a hint of wry humor, "perhaps don't make your brother work quite so hard to cover for you. The poor boy nearly tied himself in knots trying to explain your mysterious ailment to the maesters."

Jacaerys felt a flush of shame creep up his neck. "I'll apologize to Luke," he murmured. "I shouldn't have involved him."

"No," Rhaenyra agreed, though her eyes held a glimmer of amusement. "Though I suspect he rather enjoyed the intrigue of it all." She began walking again, drawing him alongside her. "Tell me about her."

The words caught in his throat. He'd spent so many nights watching her on stage, memorizing every gesture, every lilting note of her voice, and yet now he found himself struggling to capture her essence in words.

"She's..." Jacaerys started, then faltered, unsure how to describe the way you made torchlight feel like sunlight, how you could make a cramped theater feel like the grandest hall in the realm. "She's remarkable," he finished softly.

"Yes," Rhaenyra agreed, a small smile playing at her lips. "I rather thought so myself when I spoke with her." She glanced at her son, noting how he tensed at her words. "She was quite composed, you know. Though her cheeks were rather flushed, and her eyes..." She paused delicately. "Well, they matched yours in their redness."

Jacaerys's fingers tightened around his ring. "Did she seem..."

"Heartbroken?" Rhaenyra supplied gently. "Yes. Though she tried admirably to hide it behind proper courtesies and formal words." She squeezed his arm. "She has a strength about her, your performer. Even in grief, she carried herself with dignity."

"She's not mine," Jacaerys whispered, the words raw in his throat.

"No," his mother agreed softly. "Though I suspect she wishes she could be, as much as you wish you could be hers."

She stopped walking, turning to face him fully. "You know, when I went to congratulate her, she was standing by the window, touching her lips." Her eyes held a knowing sadness. "Much like you were when I found you in the corridor.”

Jacaerys felt heat rise to his face, but his mother only smiled.

"She spoke beautifully of the theater," Rhaenyra continued. "Of the magic of stories, of how a simple stage can become a battlefield or a lover's garden or a storm-tossed ship." Her voice softened. "She reminded me rather a lot of myself at that age – so certain that duty and heart could never align, so resigned to choosing between them."

"Did they?" Jacaerys asked quietly. "Align?"

Rhaenyra's smile held centuries of understanding. "Sometimes," she said. "When we're very lucky, or very brave, or both." She reached up to cup his cheek. "The realm needs its stories, my love. Its theaters, its performers, its moments of magic in torchlight." She paused meaningfully. "Perhaps even its princes who understand the value of such things."

Jacaerys stared at his mother, hardly daring to hope he understood her meaning. "Mother?"

"The court does need cultural enrichment," she said carefully. "And it would be a shame to let such talent remain hidden in the lower town, wouldn't it?" Her eyes sparkled with something that looked suspiciously like mischief. "Though perhaps next time, we might arrange it without quite so many elaborate deceptions and mysterious illnesses."

For the first time in days, Jacaerys felt something like hope flutter in his chest. "You mean..."

"I mean that there are many ways to serve the realm," Rhaenyra said softly. "And many ways to honor both duty and heart, if one is clever enough to find them." She squeezed his arm. "Though perhaps we might start with properly introducing your performer to the court, rather than having her sneak in through side doors?"

Jacaerys let out a breath that was half laugh, half sob. "I don't deserve your understanding."

"No," his mother agreed, her eyes twinkling. "But you have it anyway. That's rather the point of being a mother." She began walking again, drawing him alongside her. "Now, tell me more about these performances of hers. I found her warrior queen quite compelling – though I suspect you found all of them equally so?"

As they walked through the fading sunlight, Jacaerys began to tell his mother about torchlit evenings and practiced lines, about the magic of stories and the girl who brought them to life. And if his voice caught sometimes, or if his fingers still worried at his ring, Rhaenyra pretended not to notice, content to let her son's heart begin its slow journey from breaking to healing to, perhaps, hope.

***

The whispers started the moment his horse's hooves touched the cobblestones of the theater district. Faces appeared in windows, merchants paused mid-transaction, and children stopped their games to stare openly at the prince riding through their streets in broad daylight.

No hood this time. No shadows to hide in. The sun caught the sapphire of his ring as he dismounted, the same deep blue as the formal clothes that marked him unmistakably as Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.

The theater looked different in daylight. Smaller, perhaps, though no less beloved. The morning light caught the faded paint of its facade, highlighting worn spots he'd never noticed in the torchlight. The poster from your last performance still clung to the wall, the edges curling slightly in the breeze.

He could hear your voice before he even reached the door – not performing, but running lines to yourself the way you always did during morning rehearsals. The sound made his heart stutter in his chest.

The door was unlocked, as it always was during rehearsal hours. He paused with his hand on the handle, remembering all the times he'd slipped in through the back entrance, hood drawn close. But that wasn't who he was today. Today, he was exactly who he was meant to be.

The hinges creaked – they always had, though the sound seemed louder now – and your voice cut off mid-line.

You stood center stage, script in hand, frozen in the shaft of sunlight that streamed through the high windows. Your practice dress was simpler than your performance attire, your hair loose around your shoulders the way he'd rarely got to see it. The surprise on your face would have been comical if it weren't for the way your hands started trembling.

"My prince," you breathed, already dropping into a curtsy. "I... we weren't expecting..."

He took a step forward, then another, letting the door fall closed behind him. The familiar smell of dust and wood and old velvet wrapped around him like a forgotten embrace.

"I missed morning rehearsals," he said simply.

Your laugh was shaky, uncertain. "You never attended morning rehearsals."

"No," he agreed, moving closer still. The floorboards creaked under his formal boots – so different from the soft shoes he'd worn in his disguise. "But I always wanted to."

You watched him approach, your eyes darting between his face and his clothes, lingering on the way sunlight caught his ring. "The whole district will be talking," you said softly.

"You're causing quite a scene," you murmured, nodding to where the whispers had started up again outside. "The prince, in a common theater..."

"Good," he said simply. "Let them whisper. Let them see." His voice softened. "Let them understand that their prince values more than just swords and politics – that he values stories, and art, and..." He reached up, his fingers ghosting along your cheek. "And the people who bring them to life."

Your breath caught at his touch. "Jace..." The name slipped out before you could stop it, and you immediately pressed your lips together, as if trying to take it back.

"Say it again," he whispered, his voice rough. "Please. Say my name."

You hesitated, your gaze searching his as though you might find some answer hidden in the stormy depths of his eyes. His touch was warm, grounding, and yet it set every nerve alight, a paradox you couldn’t quite reconcile.

“Jace,” you breathed, softer this time, as if the name itself was fragile, something precious you were afraid to break.

His eyes closed briefly, the sound of it a balm to wounds you didn’t even know he carried. When he opened them again, the intensity in his gaze pinned you in place.

“I’ve spent too long as a title, a duty, a shadow. But when you say my name…” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I feel like myself again.”

"I love you," he said simply, his hand still extended. "In shadows and in sunlight, in torchlight and in truth. And I'm done pretending otherwise."

Your hand trembled as you reached for his, your fingers hovering just above his palm. "Your mother..."

"Knows," he said softly. "Has known, apparently, for quite some time." His lips quirked in a small smile. "She thinks the court could use more cultural enrichment."

You stared at him, comprehension dawning slowly. "That's..."

"A way forward," he finished gently. "If you want it. No more shadows, no more hiding. Just... this. You, and me, and your stories. In sunlight."

Your eyes were bright with unshed tears, but your smile – your smile was like watching the sun rise. "You impossible man," you breathed, shaking your head as a laugh escaped, soft and disbelieving. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking of me?”

“I’m asking for everything,” Jace said, his voice steady, though his hand still hovered just short of yours, waiting. “And I’m offering the same.”

Your fingers trembled as they reached for his, but you didn't pull away. "The court won't like it," you whispered, even as your hands intertwined. "A common performer, elevated so high..."

“The court will do as the Queen says,” he said, a grin appearing to cover half of his face.

You laughed softly, though it caught on something that might have been a sob.

"This is the most real thing I've ever done." He glanced around the theater, at the dust motes dancing in the morning light, at the worn stage beneath your feet. "This is me, standing in sunlight, telling you that I love you. That I've loved you since you first made me believe in the magic of stories. That I want to build something with you – something that serves both the realm and our hearts."

Your breath hitched. "You've never said that before," you whispered. "That you love me."

"I was a coward," he admitted, bringing your joined hands to his lips. "Hiding behind a hood, pretending I could keep my heart separate from my duty." His eyes met yours, clear and certain. "I'm not hiding anymore."

The sound of whispers outside grew louder – more people gathering, no doubt, to witness their prince standing in a common theater, holding hands with a performer in the morning light. But for once, you didn't pull away, didn't try to maintain proper distance.

His smile faltered slightly. "I'm sorry," he started, but you shook your head.

"Don't be," you said, squeezing his hand. "We needed that time – those moments in torchlight, when we were just ourselves. It let us..." You paused, searching for words. "It let us build something real, before we had to figure out how to make it fit in the world."

"What happens now?" you asked softly, your free hand coming up to trace the formal embroidery on his sleeve – so different from the plain clothes he'd worn in shadows.

"Now," he said, smiling slightly, "you finish running your lines. And I..." He glanced at the script still clutched in your hand. "I help, badly, the way I always did. Though perhaps this time I won't have to whisper."

You laughed then, real and bright, the sound echoing off the theater's walls. "You were a terrible scene partner."

"I was," he agreed, grinning. "But I made up for it with enthusiasm."

"You did," you said softly, your eyes dropping to his lips for just a moment. "Though I seem to remember you being better at other kinds of performance."

His breath caught as you stepped closer, your fingers trailing up from his embroidered sleeve to the collar of his formal coat. "Oh?" he managed, his voice rougher than before.

"Mhmm," you hummed, rising up on your toes. "Would you like a demonstration?"

The sunlight caught the gold in his eyes as they darkened, his hands tightening on your waist. "I believe," he murmured, "that would be most educational."

You tilted your head, your hand brushing up to cradle his jaw, the stubble beneath your fingertips grounding you. His lips hovered close – so close you could feel the tremor of his exhale against your skin. And then, finally, he leaned in.

The kiss was soft at first, as if he feared breaking you. His lips brushed against yours in a way that sent a shiver through your body, light and careful, but quickly deepened into something fuller, something aching. His mouth opened slightly, inviting you in, and when your tongue slipped past the curve of his lower lip, he groaned low in his throat – a sound that sent a thrill rippling down your spine.

It was wet, eager, yet tender, a dance of give and take, of exploration and familiarity. His hand splayed wide against your back, pressing you closer, as though proximity alone could erase the years spent apart, the careful boundaries you'd both maintained.

Between breaths, his lips barely parted from yours, you murmured, “I love you.”

The words spilled from you like a secret too heavy to carry anymore, your voice trembling with raw honesty. His response was immediate – a sharper pull, his lips chasing yours with urgency, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that made your knees weaken.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads pressed together as his thumb traced lazy circles on your jaw. His eyes searched yours, a soft smile curving his lips despite the heat still pooling in his gaze.

“I take this as a yes?” he murmured, his grin widening when you laughed softly and kissed him once more, just to tell him yes without words.

Outside, the morning sun continued its climb through the sky, painting the theater district in shades of gold. The whispers would spread, the stories would grow, and soon all the realm would know of the prince who chose a performer, who dared to love in sunlight rather than shadow.

But in that moment, standing on your worn stage with his arms around you and the taste of his kiss still on your lips, none of that mattered. You had found your way back to each other, not in the secretive depths of night but in the honest light of day. And this time, neither of you was letting go.

taglist: @smurfelle @elliaze @sillylittlepenguin181818 @lustrz-anna @lovelyteenagebeard @misshale21 @cecestea @n4tsha @inspirationquxxn @rin588 @anoravx @bbubbllejisoo @vividxpages

gc lovelies tags: @benjinotes @earth4angels @xxselenite @eldrith @princessbellecerise @bryscorner @v3laryons @vee-mage @softspiderling @swordgrace @hxtd @divinesolas @housetargaryenloyalist @bucksplum @cregan-starks @fyrewept

[tar0star]

i love haikyuu so much omg I'm dying i just spent the last 4 hours consuming haikyuu content

[brushes-of-sage]

Not me crying over “I Want to Be a Hero” (Greatest Hero version) ‘cause they got Aoyama singing “I have a dream/Those who want to can laugh” and then Midoriya’s solo line in the chorus “I’ll carry it all”

SOBBING CRYING THROWING UP 😭😭😭

[akkivee]

today is catching up with stage day and i binged on mtr’s and bat’s rep lives back to back and i’m still driven to peak insanity by stage jakurai, stage hifumi’s antics were kinda crazy esp with doppo lol speaking of, i might also be not normal about stage doppo, stage hitoya got to be a menace, stage jyushi only gets cuter and cuter and hooooooooooly shiiiiiiiiiit the power of just letting stage kuukou rock out for an hour plus i am dead!!!!!!! deceased!!!!! perished!!!!!! evaporated!!!!!!!! eviserated!!!!!! destroyed!!!!! decimated—

[simp-ly-writes]

Save Me

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.5)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Assistant!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Jayce feels like he failed you, failed to truly do the good he wanted to for Piltover but with a taste for redemption, new and old faces appearing, and a war on the cusp of starting; he looks towards revenge as he battles with his original creation. You on the other hand? Well it appears everyone is out for your blood for one reason or another...

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, protective!Jayce (as in kills someone 😬), hurt/comfort and angst, blood, kissing, briefly mentioned nonconsensual touching, mentions of blood and death, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce, S2: EP 1-7 spoilers! cliffhanger- to be continued.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,124

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: I so badly want to cut towards them being all cute and hot together 🫣 so freakin' bad but the angst before will make it feel that much better when it happens 😭

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─ · · Jayce tossed and turned in your bed last night, restless without the warmth of you beside him. He lived in your apartment, needing to feel that you were near when in actuality... he had no idea where you were...

─ · · When his mother visited him after the attack, she had to get enforcers to kick down your door to reach her son sitting amongst your blueprint covered floors doing his best to not let his tears stain your hard work.

"Jayce," Ximena Talis whispered, sitting down beside her son as he refused to look at her. "Tell me that I'm a bad person, that I failed, I lost myself, I am nothing." Ximena gasped, grasping on tightly, shaking her head and crying once feeling Jayce didn't move to hold her, just sat there.

"You are not lost, you are not nothing, you are my son, you are a leader-"

"Then why don't I feel like one?"

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─ · · Jayce stood a the front of the crowd standing alongside the remaining councillors, he was asked- was supposed to provide the speech yet he could not- not when he was the one that created this mess, not when he failed you.

─ · · Everyone watched as Mel slowly took to the stage, the microphone ringing before she cleared her throat. Tears welled in her eyes, catching in her throat but she persevered knowing that even though these words were hard to admit to herself, admit to the public, they needed to be heard. These people deserved to be remembered and as she looked down to Jayce, his eyes blank yet his outwards appearance still the perfect "golden boy" society expected of him.

But if you looked closer at the details of his outfit, you would find a wrinkled undershirt, a hair-tie of yours stretched around his wrist, and a spot of Viktor's blood on his boots he kept- forcing himself to remember what he had done.

Hearing a shuffling in the crowd, Jayce looked to see Vi and that young girl who had ran up to you both, the picture of what your future together could have looked life- Jayce felt sick. Blinking away tears as he watched the girl look around him to find you before turning up empty handed, she sobbed into her fathers shoulder and suddenly he felt thousands of eyes starring at him- shock and horror coating there features.

Jayce lowered his head as if to confirm their thoughts and not a sound could be heard as Mel continued her speech as everyone had yet another reason to grieve.

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─ · · You were shaking like a leaf in your spot, a gun pressed into your side. The whole cart-ride there the guard was playing with the safety, giggling every time you flinched 'so adorably.' They said you had the 'prettiest whimpers' the 'saddest, shiniest eyes' they had ever seen and what they all loved most of all? That you were Jayce's lover- his world. The perfect way at sticking it back on Piltover.

─ · · Another showed you the drawings they had planned for your corpse afterwards, your head on a stake so that 'Jayce could continue to admire you.' and you felt sick, you didn't want Jayce to see if you were gone, you prayed that they would just kill you in the Undercity, throwing your body into the bay without a hope of being found

─ · · "She would be a fun fuck, wouldn't she? Knees shaking, lips quivering, as you try and fit her-" you shut off your brain, ears ringing as you felt hands touch your waist that brought you back, "is your brain already going dumb? listen up." You wanted nothing more than to be in Jayce's comforting arms, to smell his aftershave in the mornings and be cuddled up by his desk by evening.

─ · · When you arrived at the venue, you were being ushered backstage and for the first time in your life, you hoped to be in the crowd, listening along. Mels speech was good but you had hoped Jayce would have been speaking at your funeral... perhaps that was a selfish thought of yours- wanting to hear your boyfriend speak in your final moments but that would be unfair to him

─ · · You stood still, hands bound behind your back and shackles around your feet. Your mouth was fixed shut with a metal mask, you closed your eyes taking in a deep breath to experience it slowly, listened to your heart beating and thought only about Jayce about every moment you loved and you were ready...

A scream sounded, you were used to the sound by now as your back got kicked falling into view of the crowd in front of Jayce. You could see him immediately stride forwards, grabbing an enforcers shotgun and taking aim before a figure emerged from behind a veil and the two exchanged shots. Mel was being forced off stage with the rest of the council members as you silently cried. There goes my peaceful death.

You tried to yell his name in mourning yet no sound escaped. You tried to get up yet a boot crushed your spine to the stage floor. Your hands stretched and grasped air, trying to reach out but never becoming successful.

You watched as Jayce was restrained, his muscles flexing as he tried to force himself out of the two mans grasps, he shouted your name over and over again, his voice becoming raspier by the minute. You could hear the chainsaw start as you were picked up by the hair on your head. "Are you ready Jayce? is everyone ready!" the voiced mocked, a drop of your blood spilling as Jayce growled and kicked, his eyes promised blood as Renni continued to speak, "your precious little love about to be all dead. But don't you worry my men had their fun with her before this, made sure she's truly going out with a bang! Don't you think it fair for killing my son? I get to take everything away from you in one fell swoop just like you did."

You knew their words about you to be untrue, just being used to dig into Jayce's heart but he took them as truth, watching you struggle, he wanted to kill, a part of you was also hurting for them, for their loss that you understood too well. Then suddenly, a red haired woman came into view holding Jayce's hammer as she swung it across their back, your kidnapper falling towards the crowd, towards Jayce. Your eyes went wide watching as Jayce's back was cut open alongside his shoulder, you gagged and gasped, hands shaking.

"Run... run!" the red haired woman yelled at you, slamming between your feet to split the shackles in two. Caitlyn waved her hand over, pointing towards an exist as you nodded your head and stumbled into a run. You turned your head to watch as Jayce yelled slamming a piece of scrap metal, bashing it against their skull- losing himself to the violence and you shivered.

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─ · · You were sitting in a medical tent, a guards hand shook as they hesitantly touched you, your eyes pleading that it was alright as they pulled the mask from your face and forced the restraints off your hands. You stretched out your jaw, twisting your wrists and testing your joints as they felt around your head and patched up your minor injuries... minor injuries. You thought back to Jayce's back and side but before you could ask, a freshly bandaged Jayce was stumbling towards you, the medical team rushing behind him, bandages in their arms and bags around their shoulders- worried but understanding once they saw you.

You could see as Caitlyn stood at the back, smiling and shaking her head with a scoff, "of course." Jayce held your face, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against your own. You felt his tears fall and stream down your own cheeks. You were hesitant to touch him seeing the blood dripping across his chest and the various wraps he wore. He pressed his lips against your own, "You're okay," he cried with a smile, "you're okay," he repeated, as if reminding himself you were real.

"Are you okay?" you asked, bringing a hand to touch his cheek. He stared up at you, "yes, I'm okay now. I'm okay." You nodded, unable to find words before gently removing your touch. "You have to finished getting treated, Jayce," you said in response to his pout before moving over on the table and offering him a seat. Jayce held your hand, watching the connection closely to ground himself as he got fixed up.

To your shock when you looked back up Mel and her mother Ambessa were now looking over you both. Mel's mother took a long look at you, analyzing you with disgust, "such a weak thing." You looked back down, gritting your teeth, and gripping Jayce's hand- forcing him to not say anything back.

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─ · · You and Jayce would sit and watch Viktor slowly healed yet as if the sight were too much for him at times, Jayce escaped to the forge. He had an endless pent up anger within him recently that you had never seen before- he wanted, craved revenge.

─ · · You sat in front of Viktor, taking notes by the hour to monitor his condition and heart rate. You gave up trying to track the arcane as it changed too quickly for you to keep up and all your journals had been filled by the first hour of your watching.

Your eyes grew heavy as you leaned on the desk in front of you, back feeling the moonlight as you closed your eyes until a grunt than a groan before a loud bang was heard and you bolted up from your seat to see... AN ALIVE VIKTOR?! You rush over to him, "Oh Viktor!" you cry out, "we're alive, we're okay," you sob to yourself gripping his cane before offering it to him.

"Jayce put you through this too?" Viktor asked, tone cold- angry as he looked you over. "No, no, no! I was kidnapped! Oh you must be cold and you really must eat too- I had no idea how to feed you!" you quickly explain rushing to grab your lab coat and offering it to your old lab partner. You listen to how his scoff echos as you take a cautious step backwards, allowing him space to dress, "Like being kidnapped is any better."

You shake your head with a smile, "what can I get you to eat?" you ask, turning back around before hugging a now clothes Viktor. His hand hover above your back, watching as Jayce stumbles into the room, looking at him and you in shock, tears welling in his eyes- "you're alive!" Jayce rejoices, coming over to join the hug.

"I'm not hungry I just feel a... pulse within me, regenerative but not unpleasant... you promised me... Jayce, that you would destroy the hexcore..." you take a step back, allowing the men to share their moment. You thought to have heard everything that happened in the lab, but this... this was all new information to you. You looked over at the wall Viktor emerged from, how to pulsed like an organic engine, you were tempted to look closer at it... touch it but just before you could, Viktor firmly grasped your wrist, "no... don't."

His words rattled in your skull as you held your head and whined. Viktor quickly let go, a part of him afraid as Jayce quickly ran over to you, checking if any of your wounds had reopened before looking back at Viktor, "I'm stepping down as councillor, we can all work together again. Where we belong all along!"

"I must go now Jayce," Viktor looks down at you, eyes filled with sorrow, "I was supposed to be dead but now... now I must figure out what I must do... alone."

"Do you think its easy? To leave when your whole city looks to you for salvation? To cling to principles when you think your girl and best friend are dead?! You were dying in my arms- she nearly got her head chopped off? I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS! and all you can think to do is walk away and leave?!" Jayce yells, his heart tearing just as it was healing. You bring a chair over, falling into it, not finding the strength in yourself anymore to plead. You just look up to Viktor, watching as his eyes shift in change as you blink your own, thinking to be seeing things, please, take care of yourself, is all you silently ask him.

He does not respond, turning his back, "goodbye." Is all Viktor says, the sound of his cane becoming quieter as he walks down the hall. Jayce looks to where Viktor once stood before turning to you, "I-if you are unsure about anything, just leave me now... I-I rather it all happen at once."

"Jayce," you whisper, standing and quickly striding over to the man holding his head and brushing the hair that falls into his eyes, I never did book that haircut. "I love you, I'm not leaving, I promise, at least not willingly," you try and joke as Jayce lets out a breathy laugh, just leaning into your touch, "thank you."

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─ · · You and Jayce silently clean up the laboratory yet decide to keep Viktor's desk as is.. maybe he will return after some time, you reassure yourself. Standing up on a ladder, Jayce supports the bottom, closely watching as put up another box into storage before picking you up on the way down and settling you on your feet and pulling you in for a kiss.

You smile into it, both giving each other this brief little moment of happiness as the kettle clicks off, you both had agreed to pull an all-nighter for old times sake but by the sounds of screws loosening and some whisper shouting coming up from between the floorboards. Jayce was shoving you behind himself and picking up his hammer.

"Jayce, you're injured!" you whisper-shouted angrily, placing a hand on his hip, trying to pull him back. He glared at you form over his shoulder, "like I would allow you to be taken away from me again," he huffs before turning back around, the end of his hammer shifting your hip so that you are entirely covered by his frame.

"SHHH!" the unknown voice sounds before a tiny head pops-up from the vent cover. The room turns blue as Jayce takes aim and your eyes close, hands covering your ears in preparation before feeling Jayce's hammer slam back down onto the floor. You place your hands on his hips, peering your head around cautious before seeing... the Professor and a young man? looking back at you.

"Professor!" you jump out from behind Jayce, swatting his hand away as he tries to reel you back in before you fall to your knees and welcome him in for a hug. "Its a wonder to see you again!" you smile widely, the Professor returns the short hug before giving you a smile then glaring at Jayce, "What in the devils name has gotten into you!" He points an accusatory finger towards your boyfriend as you stand and laugh.

Jayce gives you an unimpressed look, his palm opening, asking you to return to his side yet you don't return right away, crossing your arms with a mocking glare as he returns a truthful one. "Love that you have my side, babe," Jayce says in a dry tone, "Now why the hell are you two breaking into my lab? and who is he?" he questions.

The boy in question looks up at Jayce before settling on you and offers a wink that has you turning back to Jayce's side between his hammer and hip. "T-this is my new pupil Ekko... Ekko meet my former pupil Jayce and the very brilliant assistant (name)." You all share a nod.

"I apologize for the intrusion," the Professor continues to speak, looking between you and Jayce with curiosity. "I also always knew that you two would work out." It's now your time to scoff, "Hmm, sure you did prof." you begin leaning against Jayce's hammer, "Just like how you tried to marry me and Viktor during my first week." Jayce tenses remembering seeing you in the halls with Viktor when he had just started and before you two began working with one another.

─ · · Ekko continues to stare hard at you as if trying to pick you apart. Jayce and the Professor began their own discussion as you and Ekko shared a silent one, "Hey! Stop giving my girl the eyes," Jayce warned, kissing your cheek in an outwards display. You blinked- looking away, following Jayce's touch as he lead you back to your chairs and pulled you into his lap before presenting a cup of tea for you.

─ · · When the sample gets presented, you both jump to your feet taking your positions as you sit beside the microscope, journal ready and tool bag in your lap. You both smile at one another as Jayce reads you back what he's seeing, flipping through the pages you find your trials on plants when trying to help Viktor, your heart lurches in your chest.

You tap with your finger on a negative box from the results, looking at one another with a wince yet equal curiosity. "How is this here and there?" Jayce mumbles, scratching at his chin while looking at you, "Maybe its something to do with Viktor," you respond in a whisper, eyes searching one another's.

"Are they always like this?" Ekko whispers his questions as the Professor hums thinking back. "For the most part... yes."

"Sooo... whats the verdict?" Ekko addresses the group as you hop down from the desk, taking a look through the microscope. Jayce begins to explain Viktor's hypothesis of wild runes as you run back over to the storage and take out the books Viktor used.

"Sooo, you pissed the arcane off?" Ekko cuts Jayce off. Spinning around in a spare chair. "Well every action sparks a reaction~" Heimerdinger sings before spilling over your tool bag and starts cursing himself out, you giggle, helping to pick up the spill.

"SO! when's the wedding, I'm getting old you know," he asks, handing you the tools. You shake your head, "I don't think either of us have the room on our plates for that plus we've only been officially dating for a year-"

"WHAT! So this entire time you both have not been together?" you shush him before your shoulders sag, "Thats what I've been saying!" Jayce calls from across the room before conversation returns back to seriousness. "If this is affecting the underground then..."

"...the gates," you both whisper before looking up at one another. "Let me come with you and-" Jayce holds you against his chest, his answer firm, "no, stay here and find out if Viktor had anything else on the subject... I'll take them both down." You hesitate, hands resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

"Be sure to come back," you press your head against his heart. He places a hand on your lower back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "I will. I promise."

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─ · · You watch as Jayce softly closes the door as you take to the shelves and look under the floorboards, you tare apart the lab in a deep search before hearing a rumble. Dust falls off the highest shelves as you take a few steps back and pause. The rumbling gets louder as you look towards the test gemstones all clattering in their storage casing. You gasp in horror as some start to rise, the room being painted in blue as you duck underneath a table, bracing your head between your knees. What have we done?

─ · · By the time he dust settles, a dozen enforcers have you pinned to the floor alongside a red guard. You shake and try and roll yourself away with no use. Ambessa stands before you, crouching down to pick up your head with a glare, her daughter was so close to having this city under her grasp... if only you were out of the picture. "You are to be put in trial and jailed for endangering the lives of innocence by experimenting with Hextech to the public. Yet you will provide me with answers and results, do you hear me, girl?" You feel yourself getting pick up by your neck, you choke and gasp for air as you feet dangle, you don't want to agree to her terms and yet, how could you refuse? - Jayce, please, forgive me. You nod and take a gasp of breath back, falling to your knees, hands delicately reaching up to your neck with a sob.

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─ · · When Jayce got consumed by the wild rune he was slammed into a dark Piltover and injured, staggering to his feet, he swayed in the foggy depths before seeing a dozen distant figures turning away from him, he called out receiving no response.

His already torn shoulder screaming out in pain, he did not have the strength to pick up his hammer as he stumbled after what he thought to have just saw. Horror and grief shocked his features as he fell into the arms of a screaming face, one that resembled you. He fell backwards, crawling on his hands and feet. no, no, no! This can't be real, Jayce begged, hands gripping into the earth, burying underneath his fingertips.

He stood, walking up closer yet you changed appearances, now a husk of an ivory sculpture- its neck craning to lean into his shoulder just as you would... the lifeless, faceless figure stared through him. An overwhelming sickness erupted from his guts as he hunched over coughing, stumbling towards a mountains edge to overlook what remained of the city before him and a glowing light in the distance.

─ · · Jayce ran back for his hammer, dragging it along with himself as he took to the streets, his head swung back and forth seeing shadows move, he saw that little girl again, this time she jumped for his neck as he swung back with a grunt, his shoulder giving out as he tipped back and fell... but all he could feel was air, see the sky becoming more distance and then... complete darkness

─ · · When Jayce had reawakened, every bone in his body felt cracked, every muscle bruise so much so it hurt to breath as he forced himself to roll over. Pressing a fist to his mouth to keep him from exposing his guts. He yelled up to the cave ceiling, water dripped to his forehead, he cried while treating his wounds, stumbling as he tried to climb but ultimately failed.

─ · · Jayce felt as his hair and beard grew out, his clothes ripped and tore. He had to dismantle his hammer, fingers bleeding from the sharp metal parts within that now scared his hands in order to fix his leg. Jayce swore to see you the longer he stayed in that ravine, saw you calling out to him above in the shadows. He felt your touch in his sleep, pretended to lay right next to you as the fire embers died part way through.

─ · · Time was lost to the man, he couldn't even recognize his reflection, he talked to a ghost of you in his mind, climb, fine me, please. I need you, you called out to him as he looked up and gritted his teeth. Please, Jayce, you begged as he gripped his hair covering his ears with a yell. PLEASE!

─ · · Day by day, ledge by ledge, Jayce climbed up from the chasm and using the remaining handle of his hammer, he forced himself back up into the light, I'm coming darling, I'm coming, he told himself like a mantra to keep himself somewhat sane. The only thought driving his every step forward without rest or water was the thought of your warm embrace, your lips against his, your laugh in his ear.

He made a promise to you and he was going to keep it.

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─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490

─ · · A/N: jayce stormin' in there all hot, sweaty and bothered afterwards AHHHHH the brainrot is intense rn that i'm attempting my first long-form smut fic in the next chapter...

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

[cyberjam]

E!42 MILES DATING A SHY!SOFT READER . . . ☆

warnings - black fem!reader in mind but you can imagine it however you'd like, miles having a soft spot for you, pink coquette vibes from reader, profanity, slightly suggestive.

word count - 2.2k | lowercase intended.

main masterlist | proof read?: kinda😭

song rec for fic?: yo love - from "queen and slim: the soundtrack - vince staples, 6lack, mereba <3

ᘏ⑅ᘏ

. . HOW YOU FIRST MET . .

ఇ . . . you two were assigned as partners for a science project that would play a big part in your final grade. you knew of each other but never fully interacted until now.

ఇ . . . miles knew you as quiet, only speaking when spoken to. you were an approachable person with a warm smile. you carried yourself well, and treated others kindly, even if they were undeserving. he was entranced by you to say the least. with how things were currently going in new york, he was surprised that the city hadn't dimmed your light. miles wanted to know more about you and this project gave him the perfect opportunity to do so.

ఇ . . . you knew of miles as well. he had the reputation of being an unapproachable person. easily intimidating others without trying, and keeping his circle of people small. you took a small interest in him as well. you'd catch yourself glancing at him every now and then, trying to break down his character. he didn't seem as mean as everyone claimed but now was finally your chance to see for yourself.

ఇ . . . that project was only the beginning of your and miles' relationship.

ᘏ⑅ᘏ

. . CRUSHING STAGE . .

ఇ . . . miles protectiveness increases the more your relationship grows. he'll cut into situations and defend you before you can fully form a thought. he never hesitates to step in-front of you as a human-shield and tell someone off with a simple phrase.

"ay, watch yo mouth." | "huh? repeat yo'self." | "i know you not talkin'-"

ఇ . . . he starts eating lunch with you. his friends get on him for being a simp but he brushes it off every-time. he enjoys the convos you two have during lunch and would rather sit next to you than a rowdy group of boys who use the lunch food as science experiments.

ఇ . . . he seeks you out. during school, after school, on his nightly patrols, etc. without even fully knowing it himself, miles is always looking for you no matter where he is. he just naturally gravitates towards you. you bring something to miles life that he hasn't had in a long time. peace.

ఇ . . . let's you mess with his hair. when he's over your place he'll let you put your cute baby pink hair clips in his braids and even tie in some hair bo-bo's at the end of them. but only if you take them out as soon as you're done and don't take any pictures. (you still take pictures)

ఇ . . . let's you draw on him. you can't remember when it exactly started but it's became a routine for you to doodle and write on his hands in every class you two share. he'll return the favor, if you ask nicely. he copies whatever drawing you did on his hand to yours so you'd be matching. (he dreams of getting matching tattoos with you.) <3

ఇ . . . scares classmates away. whether it be a glare from across the room or an arm slung around your shoulders, miles is always scaring your classmates away. even if they show the smallest romantic interest in you.

ఇ . . . maintains eye contact. he's always looking for your eyes and trying to remain in contact with them when you talk. he just loves staring into your pretty doe eyes while you ramble about something you like.

ఇ . . . nicknames. miles doesn't want to scare you off by being too forward, so he'll limit his nicknames. the ones he does call you while crushing on you are ma and princesa.

ఇ . . . passes notes in class. he's a bit of a "model student" in class (not talking back, not interrupting or disrespecting classmates, turning in his work early on time. he just wants to be left alone lmao) but he's more than willing to pass notes with you throughout the entire period. you'll catch him up on the newest gossip and he'd update you on the stuff him and his homeboys get into.

ఇ . . . he'll help you study. if you don't know spanish or you're just a struggling student, he'll teach you everything you're having a hard time with at a comfortable pace. he'll quiz you every once in awhile just to make sure you fully understand and don't feel behind in anything. if you've shown a significant amount of improvement he'll treat you by taking you out for your choice of dessert. (it's really just an excuse to take you out on a date without using the word date)

ఇ . . . there's an unspoken rule that you are his. classmates know, your friends know, his homeboys know, hell, even the teachers know. you're the only person miles gives the time of day. you're the only one who gets to walk around with his arm on your shoulders, have his undivided attention, as well as be the reason for his smile. you are his and he is yours.

ᘏ⑅ᘏ

. . DATING STAGE . .

ఇ . . . late night facetime calls. you two are truly never apart. when you're not together physically you're on facetime with each other. he loves when you call him and showcase the cute things you bought for yourself using his card. he also just loves the comfort those calls bring him. seeing you engulfed in a warm blanket fast asleep while he's doing his own thing just makes him feel content. you're able to be there for each other without physically being there and that's enough for him to wait patiently until he's able to hold you again.

ఇ . . . clingy as hell. although, he'll never voice out his wants for your touch he will initiate it. miles will be the one to commence 80% of affection. partly because you're shy and mainly because he can't keep his hands off of you. miles is always touching you in some way. whether it be an arm around your shoulder, a hand resting on your thigh, or a hand rubbing your ass while you're cuddling. he can't resist kissing you either. his lips always finding any available part of your skin to kiss when he feels like it.

ఇ . . . compliments. every chance he gets he'll remind you how good you look. always hyping you up and telling you how beautiful you are. whenever you get overwhelmed by the flow of affectionate words that smoothly flow out of his mouth, you'll cover your face with your hands and turn away from him. it only gives him more fuel in the long run because he loves to see his girl get all shy and cute for him. sometimes he doesn't even use his words. a simple look up and down while licking his lips will leave you weak in the knees.

"that's all mine right there."

ఇ . . . genuinely hates arguing with you. he hates when you're upset with him. there are plenty of times where miles has provoked you to the point you've gotten upset with him and that's usually when he knows he's gone too far. you're his girl, his everything. he can't have you sulking because of him. although, miles does have a bit of a short-temper, he remains calm throughout these situations. he lets you both voice your sides and he won't let the situation go until you come to an agreement. he tends to avoid arguments at all costs. usually murmuring a "you got it, ma." before it turns into something more. after settling long disagreements, he'll engulf you in a hug and give you a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"love you. don't want my girl goin to bed mad at me."

ఇ . . . nicknames! his nicknames will consist of mi vida, mi reina, ma, mami, baby, etc. any term of endearment you can think of he's most-likely called you. usually consisting of 'my/mine'. he's very possessive. your contact name in his phone is 'mi corazon 💘' and you're the only one with an emoji next to your name.

ఇ . . . spoils you. you want it? you got it. although, miles isn't incredibly wealthy, he does have money. he uses it to take care of you and his mom, providing help for the both of you. he helps rio with actual necessities, while with you he provides you with gifts. ranging from shoes, eyelashes, lace fronts, plushies, clothes, or electronics. the most expensive gift he's gotten for you is an ipad and apple pencil. it was for your birthday and he knew he had to get it for you after hearing you fangirl about it nonstop.

ఇ . . . lets you do his hair. he usually only lets rio do his hair, he's a major mama's boy. so, when you were granted the privilege to do his hair you felt honored. he also just loves when you take his braids out and give him scalp massages. he's fallen asleep on occasion because of how gentle and soothing your hands are. he's also tender-headed as hell so, please be careful or you'll get a earful of him complaining.

"damn, ma. why you gotta pull so tight?"

ఇ . . . buys matching sets. he buys you both matching shoes, clothes, and jewelry. he likes the simplicity of being able to match with you and show everyone you're his without voicing it. you two are the couple that matches on christmas. matching christmas tree pants, and santa hats...rio thinks it's adorable. for your 5 month anniversary you were gifted a gold necklace with his name written in cursive and once he helped you put it on he revealed the necklace that was under his shirt that had your name in gold written in cursive. only time you two take it off is when you're in the shower/pool. he'll take it off during prowler business as well, he doesn't want to disclose any of his personal business at work, it's very dangerous for the both of you.

ఇ . . . cant sleep without you. once miles gets a taste of what life is like keeping you close and holding you to sleep, it's hard for him to go without it. he loves cuddling with you and if there were any instance where you two wouldn't be together he would toss and turn all night and look at the ceiling until his body physically shut down itself. it's not the healthiest way to go by so when he starts to show up to school with deeper eye bags than usual, you decide to give him a plushie of his own. he'll buy the plushie little clothes and change them every now and then. he names it after you, and he even bought the exact perfume you wear and sprays it on the stuffed animal before going to bed and cuddling it. he's embarrassed to admit it, so he'll never tell you how much he pampers it. (you don't need him to tho, you've caught him kissing the top of the stuffed animals head before cradling it in his arms and murmuring 'goodnight, mi vida.')

ఇ . . . will go to the barbie movie with you. he'll thrown on a pink hoodie, black jeans, and pair it with some jordan's while you're decked out from head to toe in pink. he's gonna cry at one point during the movie and you have to pretend you didn't see. when you ask him if he liked it he'll shrug his shoulders while sniffling. he def gave his mom a big hug when he got back home. :')

"yeah, yeah...it was alright, i guess."

ఇ . . . talks about you to his mom. mile's didn't speak much of you when he had a crush on you, but he really didn't have to. his mom knew there was something or more so someone occupying his mind whenever he'd come back from school with a slight dazed expression and the tiniest smile.

ఇ . . . graffiti's your initials together. whenever he's bored and has a little extra time on his hands he'll graffiti his and yours initials together. sometimes replacing your last initial with an 'M' for Morales..

ఇ . . . treats your stuffed animals like they're your children. he scolds you if he catches one of them on the floor, he'll name them future child names he has in mind because he def wants to get married and start a family w/ you, he gives them hugs and buys cute little tutu's for them. lowkey will throw a fit if he finds out you gave some of them away.

ఇ . . . buys/sends things that reminds him of you. he'll buy you your fave bag of chips if he sees it in the store, he'll pick up a keychain with your name on it and attach it to his bookbag, he'll send you memes or recommend a tv show because the character reminded him of you. you're really on his mind 25/8.

ఇ . . . bakes with you. he loves baking with you. you two will bake the hell out of some chocolate chip cookies or some brownies. nothing that takes too long or a lot of preparation though, he'll get antsy and kinda touchy which leads to burnt products and a ruined cake pan.

ఇ . . . shows you off/brags about you. his friends and close family members know all about you and your achievements. if you play sports he'll cheer you on and brag about your wins, if you're an artist he'll post your artwork, if you have a small clothing brand he'll wear it and tell people to buy from your store if they ask, if you knit/crochet he'll ask you to make him a bucket hat or a mini version of you and him, if you dance he'll stay up all night on the phone while you show him your new choreography. it doesn't matter what you do, miles will continue to support you and brag about any and every achievement you accomplish. big or small.

ఇ . . . miles morales loves his sweet soft significant other.

currently re-writing my miles morales fic that was 6k words because tumblr decided to randomly delete it 🥲 i'll try to get it out soon! <3

also sorry for inactivity, i've been busy w/ school and work but i'll try to shoot out fics faster when i get the time :) !!

[astrologylunadream]

Messages From Your Soulmate!💌🍂🎀 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hi, it's Lunadream🩷 In this reading you will find messages from your soulmate, what they want to tell you~✨️💭 So your soulmate can be the person that is meant for you, feel free to interpret any way you like! hope you find your message🧡

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your soulmate, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🍂🩷💌

Pile 1🎸

Pile 2🍂

Pile 3✨️

Pile 4🍁

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 🩷

Pile 1🎸

Sign energy: Innocence, Spiral, Therapy, April, Even, Chiron, Virgo, Fire, Sagittarius, Aquarius,🎣🏃‍♀️✉️👈

🧡Your soulmate's energy: First of all this person is the sweetest! Their energy is just so soft and bright.😭 My pile 1's your soulmate is has a very pure soul and also a very innocent mind.💭 This soulmate is kind and loving, I'm also hearing fragile. They could have a sensitive side, they feel like a therapist because their energy is so caring and helpful.🥺🩷 The envolope emoji is definitely confirmation that this person wants to send you a message, haha. Some of you may know this person from online or a community, they could be going through something similar to you right now or have the same emotional wounds/sensitivities as you.🫂🎀 Your soulmate has a loving and nurturing energy towards you, they energetically feel any pain or difficulties you have and whenever you feel down. This person could have Virgo, Sagittarius, or Aquarius placements, Chiron in Aquarius or Virgo, Also fire energy is present here. April may be a significant time for your soulmate, maybe that is your meeting time or someone's birthday.🎂 This person is light hearted and enjoyable, it feels like you and this person are in similar situations or stage of life. Like if you're starting college or job, they are on the same page.🎓💼 This person watches you from a distance and wants to help you and be by your side, It is possible that this soulmate is going to be a coworker or someone you collaborate with.🤝 They have a bright smile that can cure depression I'm hearing, and this soulmate is a very healing connection for my pile 1's.☺️💞 It feels like you and this person have shared experiences, or part of the same community. Maybe they felt surpressed or unable to fit into certain expectations. Your soulmate is a free-thinker and you are both very like-minded. No wonder this is your soulmate because it feels like you are meant come together and heal eachother!🫶❤️‍🩹

💌Messages from them: Far away, Trial and error, Role, Hair, Follower, Water, Neptune, 5th house, Capricorn, Vertex, I wish I could control anything, Don't be so sad, It makes me nervous, I feel your pain, Your soul is mine, I like you, I understand you, You have so much worth,🤚✔️😫👇

Ohh okay so your soulmate wants you to know that they are far away right now, but they will do anything to follow you😢❤️ They want to play a role in your love life, and bring you the love and attention you deserve.👑💋 They want you to stay strong, they are taking steps to get where they need to be for you. It feels like this person is working hard on themselves right now, they want to be successful and able to provide and support you.💼💰 Your soulmate wants you to know they are going to give you everything, also they hope you won't waste your energy and time falling into obsession with every detail of your future spouse or into romantic connections that may not be realistic or true. They want you to know THEY are the real deal, a serious solid lover and not a one sided or half hearted relationship.👤🚫 Wow, your soulmate is possessive over you and wants to tell you that you don't deserve to be neglected or give your energy away with nothing in return, this energy is kinda ticked off tbh like that really bothers your soulmate. So they really hope you won't give in to toxic connections that aren't giving you any love or care.💔 Your soulmate wants to let you know that your pain is their pain and they hate seeing you upset, they want to be available to you right now.😭 Also another message is that your soulmate wants to let you know that your hair/head is very attractive.🩷✨️ They want you to know that they will inevitably find their way to you despite all the obstacles and trials. They're lightly complaining about how they wish they could take care of you and make things easier on you🥺💞 They feel a strong sense of responsibility to make sure you are okay and taken care of, they wish they could fill the care-taker role for you, like help you with your schedule and cook for you even🍵🍳 Your soulmate wants you to be confident in their existence, like "Yes pile 1 your perfect person is out there working hard to come to you", they don't want you to lose hope or overthink things but instead happily accept their promise and energy and let everything fall into place!💌 They are genuinely loving and attentive to you pile 1!

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🤗🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the guitar emoji~🎸 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🍁🩷

Pile 2🍂

Sign energy: Fight, Role, Mermaid, Jawbone, Children, 4th house, Cancer, Taurus, Vertex, 9th house,🔒🥇👗⛺️

🧡Your soulmate's energy: Aw this is cute! Your soulmate is really caring and comforting, especially for your inner-child🧸 They are very family-oriented and fiercely protective, like they would fight anyone who hurts their loved ones.😢🥊 Their jaw and neck are very attractive and noticable, also their voice is soothing and sweet. My pile 2's your soulmate is such a softie but strong, they're like a gentle giant on the inside!🥰💞 Also they have such a siren energy and vibe to them, they could have red hair like Ariel❤️ For those who this soulmate is a feminine, they wear beautiful dresses, also whether a feminine or a masculine they may often wear soft huggable clothes. This person is just so sweet I love their energy😭 They would make a great spouse or parent, they are very caring towards you like you're their baby. Their placements could be Cancer, Taurus, or Sagittarius, it's very likely for them to have 4th house placements. Your soulmate plays a crucial role in your home life, for some this could be someone who has lived overseas or is a foreigner settling down in a new country.🏠💕🛫 Family is extremely important to your soulmate, you will have a strong bond with this person. Also! Your soulmate literally gives the best hugs, the most comforting and loving cuddles😩🫂 You may meet them in their home country or abroad, but for some in your neighborhood. They will feel familiar to you, like you have known them forever. They have a good amount of feminine energy which makes them so caring and loving🩷 It's very likely that a lot of you in this pile will start a family with this person, even have children for some. But overall this person's energy just feels like home to you, I'm also hearing "number one dad/mom" that may resonate for some. Your soulmate may be someone you really want to tie the knot with, they're also someone really committed and devoted to their spouse or family💍👑 Your soulmate is definitely giving "trophy husband/wife" lol, I love how they're both extremely kind and gentle but they also have a fiery rougher side that comes out when them or their loved ones are theatened in any way.🔪🔥 Your soulmate may like the color blue, and interested in other countries and cultures. They are extremely caring and sweet to you.😫🩷

💌Messages from them: Career, First, Aura, Believe, Fishing, 8th house, Earth, South node, Fire, Pluto, Whatever, This is interesting, You make me blush, I want to hurt you so good, There's no chance, I want to surprise you, Your energy is so youthful, Kiss me and don't stop,🕺🪽🛸🎢

Alright so I was surprised by the suggestive energy that sort of popped out of nowhere lmao I guess that's what your soulmate means by wanting to surprise you😳❤️‍🔥 I wasn't expecting such passionate energy from them, they have a lot of romantic feelings and attraction towards you. They want you to feel their intensity and love for you, like they can't hide it omg. Your soulmate seems like the type to openly express their romantic/sensual thoughts and feelings for you🙈💋 I think they would be whispering sweet nothings to you right now, that's a lot of their messages honestly. I'm trying to keep this pile light, but your soulmate is real naughty😭 They also want to tell you that they're obsessed with you, haha also they're kind of a troublemaker like they are such a tease in a cute way.😜🌟 I think it's interesting that "career first" came out, I think they're trying to say either you or them need to focus on their stability and professions right now before coming together 🔜💼 I'm hearing "this is what I need to do", they want to make a solid foundation for you, this could also be because they want to move in with you and they feel like they need to have the means for that. Also this sounds hilarious but your soulmate wishes they could just abduct you like an alien and bring you into their life instantly😂😭 Lmao this person will definitely make you laugh, they're so funny. They really do want you with them right now, but they know they still have responsibilities to take care of at this time before they can finally have you💐 Your soulmate wants to properly shift into a stable and secure earthly energy before you are divinely united, they want to tell you that their life is like a rollercoaster and is too chaotic right now🎢🔥😬 They feel like they're not capable enough to have you. They want you to feel their loving energy and believe in them, believe that fate will bring them to you. Maybe they also feel like their energy may be too intense for you right now, and they need to raise their vibrations to meet your standard😊🩷 Your soulmate wants you to know that they are preparing themselves for you, becoming their best self to present to you. They might be coming sooner than you think, because they feel a little impatient to be with you.😅 But they're resisting impulsiveness in order to make sure they are right for you.💍

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🤗🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the fallen leaves emoji~🍂 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🍁🩷

Pile 3✨️

Sign energy: Lovesick, More, Sarcasm, Cinderella, Options, Air, Fire, 7th house, Uranus, 1st house,✔️🫂🟨👩‍🔬

🧡Your soulmate's energy: Ah so interesting, your soulmate is uniquely beautiful☀️ The second you meet them you will notice how they aren't quite like anyone else, something about them definitely stands out.🤭🩷 For some reason I'm getting that a lot of people may be envious or out to get this person, their individuality makes others on the fence. Your soulmate is experimental and they may not have a set ideal type. Your soulmate is very innovative especially in their relationships, oh you know they might be a fire or air moon🌙 Libra or Aquarius placements, Aries, 1st house aspects, their energy has a lot of duality. They can be feminine or masculine, wild or tame, dreamy or realistic depending on the time or mood. Your soulmate has a lot of contacts and close relationships, I'm also seeing lots of options romantically take that however it fits. Blue and yellow are significant colors for them, maybe those could be favorite colors💛🌊 I feel like this soulmate doesn't like fitting into gender roles/labels, they desire something new and different💡💭 This pile could either go two ways, for the first half of you, this person is a hopeless romantic and Impulsive with finding love/suitors❤️‍🔥🔍 For others are the complete opposite and maybe stopped caring about love and relationships because they don't want to feel constrained and vulnerable.💍🚫 Now I am seeing the duality of the terms "hopeless romantic" and "hopeless romantic" if you know what I mean☹️💔 This person may have tried several dating apps or hoped to find the one but none of the options clicked with them. Your soulmate may be very disappointed or even disgusted by love, I'm hearing "I want something more" that could be their thoughts on love🥀 For some of you this person may look like a player or like they have a lot of suitors, but they just roll their eyes because they can't feel any spark with those people. They feel like they still haven't found the one, their soulmate, which is pile 3🥰 I'm hearing this person is not settling for something dull, they want to find a real passionate and unique romance that lights up their world🩷✨️

💌Messages from them: Mouth, Legs, Taste, Vent, Friendly, Eros, Moon, Vertex, Aquarius, Pluto, I wish I could control it, Think of me, I'm stuck with you, It's not me, You have a future ahead of you, I love the way you dress Your fantasies are unreasonable, I wanna take you down,🧎‍♂️🙏🏍🧩

Okay this is interesting, I actually forgot to mention a lot of you may start out as friends with your soulmate, but there is a really strong energy of friends with benefits.😳 Honestly for some of my pile 3's your person is a freak and they can't hide it, they might even try to stay in the friendzone for their sake or yours.😭💋 So anyway, your soulmate has many messages for you, in a way that they kinda want to vent to you right now lmao. Your soulmate would tell you they're on their knees praying for you to walk into their life.🙏🩷 And this is your soulmate but not necessarily your next partner, so they're honestly afraid because they feel like they have no control over your fate and they don't know for certain if you will choose them or fall for someone else💔 Their heart is pouring out from their words my pile 3's they wish you were with them right now. I almost said future spouse lol but yeah your soulmate is being very open with you about how possessive and insecure they are feeling because they aren't yours.😰💌 I think this person might not know you two are meant to be, they want to hold on to you tight pile 3. This person is afraid of losing you (or never having you) tbh too they get really turned on by you but they can't control it they just feel so attracted to you.❤️‍🔥😫 This may get in the way of your friendship at the beginning of this connection, so they try to hide it. Your soulmate hopes you will think of them as more than a friend, also they wanna tell you that you always dress really nice🫦👀 I think mainly it feels like your soulmate wants to rid of the buddy-buddy energy between you both, they don't like acting friendly to you and want to be closer to you in a more intimate romantic way🫢♨️ So that's what they want you to know, maybe they're afraid of you seeing them as a friend when you meet them or of you've already seen them that way. They also feel like you have strange requirements in love but they want you to know they can fulfill those unlike anyone else.🫣💌 They want to tell you they're your perfect match, I'm thinking "match your speed" however that resonates. Your soulmate also wants you to know how much they care about you and that you bring them the most comfort.🫂🩷 I'm hearing "You are my missing piece"😢💖

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🤗🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the sparkle emoji~✨️ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🍂🩷

Pile 4🍁

Sign energy: Childhood, Affect, Gold, Unafraid, Trauma, Uranus, 2nd house, Earth, Mercury, Sagittarius,📿⛸️🎤🟪

⚠️Note: Brief mentions of verbal mistreatment, proceed with caution!

🧡Your soulmate's energy: Okay this pile may be a little sensitive topic, but your soulmate may have some childhood trauma.☹️ Especially verbal abuse or being treated differently, your soulmate may have felt like an outcast.💔 I think this affected their self worth and caused them to feel like they lack value in some way, so this person tries to accommodate by becoming more beautiful, richer, smarter, ect. I am definitely seeing your soulmate rising above those who looked down on them, and their current energy is now stable and successful.✨️ They don't let anyone bring them down, and now they have very strong boundaries and high standards. Your soulmate is unique and may be from another culture/religion than you, for some they may have converted to a different religion from what they were raised in. Ice skating may be significant, also they may be a public speaker, singer, or lecturer and they are quite financially stable in their career.💼💰💸 Your soulmate has such a grounded energy, like no one can affect them because they are so strong and successful.👏 Your soulmate wears jewelry or luxury items like watches, handbags, earrings, fancy stuff. Purple is a significant color here, your soulmate could definitely be rich. My pile 4's soulmate has an inspiring life story, like their life could be made into a movie lol.🎥🎞 They have such a fancy vibe about them, also a nice voice. This person could be an online beauty influencer for some, but I'm also seeing that as this person definitely loves online shopping.👜🏷 Signs for them could be Aquarius, Taurus, Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, also placements like uranus in 2nd house, mercury in earth signs or sagittarius, uranus in sagittarius, chiron conjunct mercury or uranus. Omg pile 4 your soulmate is so pretty?? Their beauty has a radiating affect on others, so graceful and charming.👑 They could definitely wear golden jewelry and accessories, I'm imagining wrist wear for some of my pile 4's. Also maybe a gold-ish skin tone? Lol their skin just glows, your soulmate is a stunning and expensive person!!

💌Messages from them: Makeup, Message, Treat, Leo, Invitation, Pisces, North node, Vertex, Aquarius, 10th house, It's hard to make this work, Don't compare yourself, I know, Seriously? I think we're alike, Let me know, They're just jealous, What did I do?🧣🐈😔🛸

Haha ok this is interesting, so your soulmate wants to tell you that even if things get tough, please don't be hard on yourself pile 4🥺💖 They don't want you to blame yourself for difficult times, or compare yourself to others that seem more successful or achieved than you. Also specifically they don't want you to compare yourself to beauty influencers or celebrities, your soulmate is saying that no one wakes up effortlessly attractive or accomplished and not everything is as it seems.🔍🚫 That message is really coming out strongly from your soulmate, they hate seeing you upset or feeling like you aren't good enough. Your soulmate hopes you will treat yourself with pride, respect and self love🩷✨️ Also for some of my pile 4's your relationship with this soulmate may recieve public recognition and even jealousy, so your soulmate wants to let you know that won't keep you two apart.🌹 I'm hearing people making up rumors and delusions about you two, but your soulmate doesn't want you to let them affect you. Also only for some but you may get an opportunity to work with your soulmate, could be an online campaign or some sort of collaboration that will bring attention to you both.👀📸 I am seeing some of my pile 4's might compare themselves to this soulmate, and they are here to assure you that you two are no different. It may seem like this person is more efficient or ahead of you in some way, but they want you to know that they are not as great as they appear and they make mistakes just like anyone else.☹️💓 Your soulmate really wants you to know that you are just as good as anyone else, they want you to remember your worth. You are someone admirable to them, they themselves are a greatly respected and loved person but they only see you.🔗🩷 So pile 4 your soulmate wants you to keep your chin up and love the person you have become! They are so proud of you and they are your biggest supporter, they believe in you.🥰

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🤗🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the orange leaf emoji~🍁 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🍂🩷

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

[caotictimmy]

I was in fear that I was the only one with their brain completely rotted by mouthwashing and swansea appreciation 😭😭 good to know I'm not alone in this

We love Swansea😍😍 but yes guys I’m finally doing his headcanons. I’m sorry it took so long to start making it. I’m still not completely recovered from the side effects from my meds. But I love my man swansea sm. Gonna bit a little bit angsty but mostly happy. Gonna be Just like the rest of my headcanon.

Crushing - Confession

- It’s gonna take a long time for Swansea to like you. I think we all get this. He’s been through a lot in his life.

- Your guys relationship goes through stages before he starts to like you. Like different stages of trusts. But when he fully trusts you. He’s Inlove, like INLOVE with you. GOD I LOVE HIM SM.

- Swansea isn’t gonna be to noticeable he finally figures out he likes you. There will be hints. Subtle hints. But still hints.

- Like curly. He will treat you different. Not that much different. He’d be a bit nicer with you. Nicer with his sarcastic comments. Nicer with his insults. Just not being as harsh on you. He might crack a smile at you.

- Swansea will be protective. Not in a weird alpha male thing. He’s worried about your safety. Let’s say you wanted to help work on the broken vent. He will adamantly say no. He knows how dangerous some of the stuff he works on can be. He’ll let you watch but he doesn’t want you to get hurt. Not even a paper cut. ( doesn’t worry he doesn’t coddle you)

- If you ever do get hurt. If it’s not bad Swansea will help you himself (he’s trying to be romantic give this man a break.). If you accidently got cut put a bandaid or bandage on it. Scolding you for being so ‘stupid’ and getting yourself hurt. (He was really worried, you almost gave that poor man a heart attack)

- He’ll do little things for you. Saving you a seat next to him. Waiting for you to catch up to him. Saving you the last candy bar on the ship (much to Daisuke’s dismay). He doesn’t really mention that he does this stuff. And if you ask him about it he’ll deny and look at you like you’re crazy.

- Swansea is constantly thinking about you. In such a sweet way. Oh this reminds me of them. They would like this. I wonder what their doing right now. He always has you in the back of his mind. He also a romantic but he’s just emotionally stunted. PROVE ME WRONG.

- Swansea is gonna be a bit scared to try again. But you make him wanna try again. You make him feel like he’s in his prime again. So it might take a long time for him to confess.

- I think when he does confess, it would be late at night. You guys would be talking. Laughing the night away. Just having a genuine good time. He’d pause for a moment. Making you confused. You guys lock eyes

- “Y’know you can be a parasite sometimes. Always in my god damn head. You really made an old fool like me fall in love like I was back in my twenties.” He won’t directly ask you to date him but I think you get it

- When you say you wanna date him. He’ll just smirk. Wrapping an arm around you as guys continue your night. (He was absolutely terrified you’d say no.)

Dating

- Another dude he likes hearing you yap. It could be about anything. Be warned he will probably tease you. But he doesn’t do it in a mean way! His sarcasm is just his way of showing you love. But he truly does listen to you talk. Sometimes when you guys talk hell randomly bring up something you talked about like 2 months ago.

- I think his love language for receiving would be quality time and words of affirmation. And I think his giving love language would be quality time and acts of service.

- (receiving) I feel like Swansea likes you around while he’s working. Whether that be talking, listening to music, or just in silence. He likes having you around. I already talked about how much he likes listening to you talk. So that definitely plays a big role. So whether you’re yapping about how Daisuke almost broke his arm trying to get a pack of sugar, or doing your own thing next to him. He just wants you around.

- (receiving) He’s had a rough past. I think we all get that. So I firmly believe he’d love some praise. Whether that you talking about how handsome he is, or complimenting his skill. Swansea will act like he doesn’t care when you do this. But he does. He really really does. He’s not gonna tell you though.

- (giving) Said again. This man loves having you around. He’ll actively invite you to hang out with him while he’s working. Swansea is gonna act like it isn’t a big deal. But he really wants you to show up. So please don’t turn down his offers to spend time with him!!!

- (giving) Swansea will do small things for you. Saving you the last of cereal for breakfast(even after Daisuke begged to have the last of it). Doing your laundry with his, making you some food when he’s cooking. They’re not humongous gestures but he does them frequently. It’s like a second nature to him. Swansea isn’t thinking ‘I’ll wash their clothe cause I wanna be nice”. He just kinda does it. Like an unconscious part of him just makes him do these things.

- This man will always swing his arm around you. Like always. Whether that be walking down the hall together. Wrapping an arm around you during movie night(the crew definitely as movie nights sue me). He always has an arm around you. (GUYS I KNOW THIS IS SIMILAR TO CURLY GIVE ME A BREAK😭🙏)

- Do spa masks with him. He’ll call them stupid but trust me. You will have a lot of fun. It will turn into a gossip night. You can’t tell me this man doesn’t gossip at least a little bit. He doesn’t call it ‘gossip’. But this man is sassy when he’s ’talking shit’. Like Swansea bae… Just call it gossip.

- Swansea defiantly calls you nickname. Don’t get your pitch forks out yet please😔. I think his main nicknames would be toots, sweetheart. And other old timey nicknames.

- Daisuke looks up to you guys. He’s definitely more than once called you guys ‘dad and ___’ (keeping it gender neutral gang).

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (AFAB)

- We know this man is old. I think we ALL get it. So he’s not gonna have that much energy. But what he is gonna have. Experience and knowledge. LOT’S OF EXPERIENCE AND KNOWLEDGE. So your not gonna have to worry if your gonna be satisfied by the end of the night.

- SWANSEA PREP GAME IS ON POOOIIINNNNTTTTTT. He will make sure you are ready! I’ve said before, he does not like seeing you hurt. So I firmly believe he’ll spend a lot of time on prep. If you wanna give him some special thanks go ahead. All he’s really worried about is making it less painful for you.

- I do not believe he’s a selfish lover. No matter what anyone else says. I’ve seen people talking about how he would be selfish during sex. LOUD INCORRECT BUZZARD. Argue with a fucking wall. While he does like getting pleasured. I think he likes a good 50/50

- Cock warming king. Sometimes when he knows no one will bother him. Hell unbuckle his pants and just slide you right on. You guys haven’t been caught so🙏🙏 Try to make sure it stays that way.

- Call you a whole ass phone book ass size of pet names. PUT THE PITCH FORKS AWAY!! Honestly I feel like it just slips out. He’s not fully focusing on what to say. (I’m sorry. No im not sorry. He would not call you baby girl/baby boy during sex,.)

- Swansea prefers having these intimate moments in one of your guys bedroom. He’ll take a risk sometimes if he’s that horny. But he feels it’s more special in one of your guys room. He doesn’t get that thrill of it. (He also prefers the plushness of a bed.)

- Swansea loves holding you after sex. That post nut clarity really hits. He feels so special knowing you’re here with him. Willing to be so intimate with each other. He feels lucky that he has you. That he gets to try again.

- I feel deep in my heart he’s a grunter. I don’t think he’s like a loud one. But you’ll hear a grunt every so often, your gonna have to train your ears to really listen to it

- He talks you through it. ARGUE WITH A DAMN FUCKING WALL HE TALKS YOU THROUGH IT. He gets pleasure from it to, comeing at you that your doing good, that you can keep going, just a little longer. My opinion is better suck my dick.

Authors note: I FINALLY GOT IT OUT. Sorry it took so long but it’s finally out!!!

[kiesbrainjuice]

hey hey hey 💆🏻‍♀️ i saw you wrote something about “them reacting to you at your first match as a their gf”(hope it’s understandable 😭😭) with fukurodani so can i request the same but with inarizaki ? particularly with the twins

thank you have a good day ! ♡

—THEM REACTING TO YOU AT YOUR FIRST MATCH AS HIS GIRLFRIEND ! inarizaki

pr : atsumu x fem!reader; osamu x fem!reader; suna x fem!reader; kita x fem!reader

syn : them reacting to you playing volleyball for the first time since you got together

wc : 3.8k

tw : none, just some jealousy and tease ykkk, pure fluff

a/n : sure! i wanted to do it for a long time! anyway i did the twins in particularity :) enjoy reading!

As they entered the bustling gymnasium, the air thick with excitement and the chatter of spectators, he felt a surge of pride. He might not be on the court today, but he was here for something equally important - to support the person who had become such a significant part of his life.

The Inarizaki team made their way to their seats, ... positioning himself for the best view of the court. As they settled in, the atmosphere electric with anticipation, he allowed himself a moment of reflection. He thought about the countless hours of practice you'd put in, the late-night strategy discussions you'd shared, the unwavering determination he'd seen in your eyes. A warmth spread through his chest, a feeling he was still getting used to but cherished nonetheless.

The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, introducing the teams. Kita leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on the court entrance. Any moment now, you would step out, ready to show the world what he already knew - that you were a force to be reckoned with, both on and off the court.

ATSUMU MIYA

The gymnasium buzzed with anticipation, its air thick with the scent of excitement and nervous energy. Amidst the sea of spectators, one figure stood out - Atsumu Miya, the talented setter from Inarizaki High. He couldn't contain his enthusiasm, his body practically vibrating with excitement as he perched on the edge of his seat. His honey-brown eyes, usually sharp and calculating on the court, were now wide with childlike wonder.

"There she is! That's her!" Atsumu exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. His arm shot out, finger pointing eagerly as you stepped onto the polished wooden court. "Did you see that serve warm-up? She's gonna crush 'em!" 

Atsumu's teammates, seated in a row beside him, exchanged knowing glances and suppressed smiles. They had endured weeks of Atsumu's endless chatter about you, his voice always taking on a dreamy quality when he spoke your name. Now, finally witnessing the object of their setter's affections in person, they couldn't help but be curious.

Osamu, Atsumu's twin brother, leaned back in his seat with a smirk playing on his lips. He ran a hand through his dyed gray hair, a stark contrast to Atsumu's blonde locks. "You've been yammering about her nonstop, 'Tsumu," he drawled. "Time to see if she's as good as ya say."

Atsumu whirled to face his twin, indignation flashing in his eyes. "She ain't just good, you scrub! She's freaking amazing!" he declared, puffing out his chest like a proud peacock. "Watch 'n learn, 'Samu!"

As the shrill whistle pierced the air, signaling the start of the match, all eyes turned to the court. You immediately took center stage, your presence commanding attention. Your serves were nothing short of spectacular - powerful and precise, they cut through the air like missiles, leaving your opponents scrambling. When you spiked, it was with a ferocity that belied your frame, the ball slamming onto the opposite court with resounding force. On defense, you were a wall, your receives steady and your blocks impenetrable.

Atsumu's voice rose above the cacophony of the crowd, his cheers the loudest and most enthusiastic. "That's my girl! Show ‘em what you're made of, [Y/N]!" he shouted, his face flushed with pride and exertion from his constant yelling.

As the match progressed, however, the Inarizaki team couldn't resist the opportunity for some playful banter. Suna Rintarou, known for his deadpan humor, leaned over with a mischievous glint in his usually sleepy eyes. "Damn, Atsumu," he commented, nudging the setter with his elbow, "She's a real catch!"

Atsumu's reaction was instantaneous. His cheeks flamed red, clashing adorably with his blonde hair. He tried to sound nonchalant but failed miserably, his voice coming out squeaky. "Course she is! She's perfect... Got the best setter in Japan teaching her, after all!"

Kita Shinsuke, the team's stoic captain, surprised everyone with a chuckle. His usually stern face softened with amusement as he added, "Careful, Atsumu, he might steal her away from you."

The effect on Atsumu was electric. His eyes narrowed dangerously, a pout forming on his lips as he clutched the armrests of his seat. "Hey! Don't even think about it!" he declared vehemently. "She's mine, you hear?"

Despite the constant teasing from his teammates, Atsumu's focus remained unwaveringly on you. His eyes tracked your every movement on the court, drinking in the sight of you in your element. You were a force of nature - fierce yet graceful, your movements fluid and purposeful. There was no doubt in anyone's mind about your skill and dedication.

"I taught her that move!" Atsumu often retorted when you executed a particularly impressive play, his chest swelling with pride and admiration. "Well, mostly. She's a natural, you know?"

As the match drew to its climactic close, tension mounted in the gymnasium. The scores were tight, but your team had the slight edge. In a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, you leapt high into the air, your arm drawn back like a loaded spring. Time seemed to slow as you connected with the ball, sending it hurtling across the net with a resounding crack. The ball slammed onto the opposite court, untouched by the opposing team's defenders.

The gymnasium erupted into a deafening roar as the final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory. But even amidst the chaos, Atsumu's voice rang out clear and jubilant. He jumped up from his seat, nearly toppling over in his excitement, his fist pumping the air triumphantly. "You did it! That's my girl! Told ya she was the best!"

As the crowd began to disperse, still buzzing with excitement from the match, you made your way over to where Atsumu and his teammates were seated. Your face was flushed from exertion, wisps of hair escaping from your ponytail, but your eyes shone with happiness and pride.

The moment Atsumu saw you approaching, he bounded down the bleachers, taking the steps two at a time in his haste to reach you. Without hesitation, he swept you up into a tight embrace, his strong arms lifting you clean off your feet. You felt the rumble of his laughter against your chest as he spun you around, uncaring of the amused looks from passersby.

"Ya were amazing, [Y/N]!" Atsumu exclaimed, his voice thick with emotion. "Knew you had it in ya! Bet those scrubs didn't know what hit them!"

You laughed, the sound muffled against his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Thanks, Atsumu," you replied, your heart swelling with affection. "Means a lot that you were here."

As Atsumu set you back on your feet, his teammates approached, each offering their congratulations. Suna stepped forward first, a genuine smile replacing his usual deadpan expression as he offered you a high five. "Great game, [Y/N]," he said, impressed. "You're as impressive as Atsumu said. Maybe even more so."

You returned the high five with a warm smile. "Thanks, Suna. That means a lot coming from you guys."

Osamu grinned, throwing a muscular arm around his twin's shoulder. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he said, "Ya know, [Your Name], with skills like that, we might have to recruit ya."

Atsumu's reaction was immediate and predictable. "Back off, ‘samu!" he protested loudly, pulling you closer to his side possessively. His cheeks puffed out in annoyance, reminiscent of a child protecting his favorite toy. "She's mine, and she's staying right where she is! Go find your own amazing girlfriend if you can!"

Aran Ojiro, the team's powerful wing spiker, let out a deep, rumbling laugh. "Looks like Atsumu's getting protective," he observed, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. "Can't blame him, though. You're quite the player, [Y/N]."

You felt a blush creeping up your neck at all the attention and praise. Squeezing Atsumu's hand reassuringly, you chuckled. "Don't worry, 'Tsumu, I'm not going' anywhere," you assured him, before adding with a playful wink, "But maybe I'll join a practice or two. Could be fun to spike your sets for a change."

Atsumu's face lit up like a Christmas tree, his grin threatening to split his face in two. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, now shone with unbridled affection and pride. "You're the best, [Y/N]," he declared, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "Let's go celebrate! I'm buying! Gonna treat my star player right!"

As you walked off the court hand in hand with Atsumu, surrounded by his boisterous teammates, you felt a profound sense of belonging. The victory was sweet, but the knowledge that you had such unwavering support - especially from Atsumu - was even sweeter. 

OSAMU MIYA

The Sendai City Gymnasium hummed with anticipation, its vast interior a cacophony of excited chatter. Amidst the sea of spectators, Miya Osamu sat with uncharacteristic restlessness, his usually calm demeanor betrayed by the slight tapping of his foot. His grey eyes, typically laid-back, now held an intensity that matched his twin's on the volleyball court.

"There she is," Osamu said quietly, a soft smile playing on his lips as you stepped onto the gleaming court, your team's colors vivid against your skin.

Beside him, his twin brother Atsumu leaned forward, honey-brown eyes wide with curiosity. "So that's her, huh? The girl who's got my brother all soft and mushy?"

Osamu's elbow found Atsumu's ribs with practiced ease. "Shut it, ya scrub," he muttered, but there was no real heat in his words. His eyes remained fixed on you, drinking in your pre-game ritual.

Suna, seated on Osamu's other side, smirked. "Never thought I'd see the day Osamu got all worked up over something other than food."

"I'm not worked up," Osamu protested, his calm voice at odds with the slight blush creeping up his neck. "I'm just... supportive."

Atsumu snorted. "Yeah, real supportive. That's why you've been fussing with your hair for the past ten minutes, right?"

Osamu's hand, which had indeed been absently running through his grey locks, dropped to his lap. "I don't fuss," he grumbled.

As the teams gathered for their pre-game huddles, Atsumu's curiosity got the better of him. "So, what's she like on the court? Any good?"

For the first time since arriving, Osamu's eyes left you, turning to his brother with a hint of pride. "She's amazing," he said simply. "Just watch."

The shrill whistle cut through the air, signaling the start of the match. From the very first serve - yours, as it happened - it was clear that Osamu's assessment wasn't just lovestruck bias. Your serve rocketed across the net, leaving the opposing team scrambling.

"Woah," Atsumu breathed, genuinely impressed. "That was-"

"I know," Osamu interrupted, unable to keep the smugness from his voice.

As the match progressed, Osamu's teammates couldn't help but notice the changes in him. The usually stoic middle blocker was on the edge of his seat, grey eyes tracking your every move. When you scored a particularly impressive point, a rare, unguarded grin split his face.

"Look at that," Suna drawled, nudging Atsumu. "I think we've found something Osamu loves more than fatty tuna."

Atsumu snickered. "Nah, that's impossible. But maybe it's a close second."

Osamu ignored them, too focused on the match to rise to their bait. But when you executed a perfect cut shot, threading the ball between two blockers, he couldn't contain himself. "That's my girl!" he shouted, startling those around him with his uncharacteristic volume.

Atsumu's eyebrows shot up. "Wow, 'Samu. I didn't know ya could yell like that."

"Learned from the best," Osamu retorted dryly, earning a laugh from his teammates.

As the match drew to its climactic close, even Atsumu and Suna found themselves caught up in the excitement. The scores were tight, but your team had the edge. In a heart-stopping moment, you leapt high, arm drawn back. The gymnasium seemed to hold its breath as you connected with the ball, sending it hurtling past the opponents' defenses.

The final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory. The crowd erupted, but no one cheered louder than Osamu. He was on his feet in an instant, pumping his fist in the air. "That's it! Ya did it!"

Atsumu stared at his twin in amused disbelief. "Who are you and what have ya done with my brother?"

As the crowd began to disperse, you made your way over to where Osamu and his teammates were seated. Osamu vaulted over the railing, ignoring Kita's reproachful look, and met you halfway. Without hesitation, he swept you up into a tight embrace, spinning you around.

"You were incredible," he murmured, setting you down but keeping his arms around you.

You laughed, flushed with victory and affection. "Thanks for coming, 'Samu. Means a lot."

"Wouldn't have missed it for anything'," he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Oi, oi," Atsumu called, approaching with the rest of the team. "Don't I get to meet the girl who's turned my brother into a cheerin' softie?"

Osamu rolled his eyes but kept an arm around your waist as he turned to face his team. "Guys, this is [Y/N]. [Y/N], these are the scrubs I put up with."

As introductions were made, Atsumu couldn't resist teasing his twin. "Ya know, [Y/N], if you ever get tired of this guy's cooking, I make a mean-"

"Don't even think about it," Osamu cut in, pulling you closer. "My cooking skills are part of the package deal."

You laughed, leaning into Osamu's side. "Don't worry, 'Samu. You had me at onigiri."

Suna smirked. "Now that's true love."

As the group headed out to celebrate your victory, you found yourself in the middle of the twins' familiar bickering, Osamu's arm a comforting weight around your shoulders.

RINTARO SUNA

The Sendai City Gymnasium buzzed with anticipation, its vast interior filled with excited chatter. Amidst the sea of spectators, Suna Rintarou sat with his usual languid posture, but his typically half-lidded eyes were wide open and alert, fixed intently on the court entrance.

As you stepped onto the gleaming court, your team's colors bold against your skin, a small, genuine smile tugged at Suna's lips - a rare sight that didn't go unnoticed by his teammates.

"Woah, is Suna actually showing emotion?" Atsumu teased, nudging the middle blocker with his elbow.

Suna's expression immediately smoothed back into his characteristic deadpan. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he drawled, though his eyes never left you.

Osamu leaned forward, intrigued. "So that's her, huh? The one who's got our Suna staying awake during matches he's not playing in?"

"I always stay awake," Suna retorted, finally tearing his gaze away to give Osamu an unimpressed look.

"Yeah, but ya usually look like yer wishing you were asleep," Atsumu chimed in. "Now ya actually look... interested."

Suna shrugged, a hint of pride seeping into his voice despite his best efforts. "She's worth staying awake for."

As the teams gathered for their pre-game huddles, Atsumu's curiosity got the better of him. "So, what's she like on the court? Any good?"

For a moment, Suna's usual bored expression gave way to a smirk. "Just watch," he said simply, settling back in his seat.

The shrill whistle cut through the air, signaling the start of the match. From your very first move, it was clear that Suna's confidence in your abilities wasn't misplaced. Your plays were sharp, your reflexes quick, and your game sense impressive.

"Damn," Osamu muttered after you pulled off a particularly clever feint. "She's good."

"Of course she is," Suna replied, unable to keep a note of smugness from his voice. "We practice together sometimes."

Atsumu's eyes widened. "You mean ya actually voluntarily do extra practice? Who are you and what have ya done with the real Suna?"

Suna merely shrugged, but the soft look in his eyes as he watched you play spoke volumes.

As the match progressed, Suna's teammates couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in his demeanor. While he wasn't as openly expressive as Atsumu might be, the tension in his shoulders when you were up to serve, the way he leaned forward during crucial points, and the ghost of a smile when you scored - it all painted a picture of a Suna they rarely saw.

When you executed a perfect block that sent the ball spinning back to the opponent's court, Suna actually stood up, a rare grin spreading across his face. "Nice kill," he said, loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

Kita raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I've ever heard Suna cheer before."

"It's not cheering," Suna protested weakly, sinking back into his seat. "It's... appreciating good volleyball."

"Sure, sure," Atsumu snickered. "And I'm sure it has nothing to do with who's playing that good volleyball, right?"

As the match drew to its climactic close, even Suna couldn't maintain his usual nonchalance. The scores were tight, but your team had the edge. In a heart-stopping moment, you leapt high for a spike, your form perfect. The gymnasium seemed to hold its breath as you connected with the ball, sending it hurtling past the opponents' defenses.

The final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory. While the crowd erupted in cheers, Suna's reaction was more subdued but no less meaningful. He was on his feet, a genuine smile on his face, clapping with more enthusiasm than his teammates had ever seen from him.

"Way to go, [Y/N]," he said softly, though his eyes shone with pride.

As the crowd began to disperse, you made your way over to where Suna and his teammates were seated. Suna met you halfway, his usual languid movements quickened by excitement he couldn't quite hide.

"Nice game," he said, pulling you into a hug that surprised his watching teammates. "You were amazing out there."

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. "Thanks for coming, Rin. Means a lot."

"Wouldn't have missed it," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before pulling back, aware of his teammates' eyes on you both.

"So this is the famous [Y/N]," Atsumu said, approaching with a grin. "The girl who's got our Suna actually showing interest in something besides blocking and napping."

Suna rolled his eyes, but kept an arm around your waist. "Guys, this is [Y/N]. [Y/N], these are the idiots I'm forced to play with."

As introductions were made, the twins couldn't resist teasing Suna.

"Ya know, [Y/N]," Osamu started, a mischievous glint in his eye, "if ya ever want to see what it's like to date someone with actual energy-"

"I have plenty of energy for what matters," Suna cut in smoothly, pulling you closer. 

You chuckled, leaning into Suna's side. "Don't worry, guys. I like my volleyball players tall, skilled, and delightfully snarky."

Atsumu clutched his chest in mock hurt. "Ouch, what about us?"

"I said skilled, didn't I?" you retorted with a grin, causing Suna to snort in amusement.

As the group headed out to celebrate your victory, you found yourself in the middle of the team's friendly banter, Suna's arm a comforting weight around your shoulders. 

SHINSUKE KITA

The Sendai City Gymnasium hummed with anticipation, its vast interior a sea of excited spectators. Among them sat the Inarizaki team, with Kita Shinsuke at the center, his posture perfect and his expression serene. Yet, those who knew him well could detect a subtle tension in his shoulders, a barely perceptible eagerness in his usually calm eyes.

As you stepped onto the gleaming court, your team's colors vibrant against your skin, the corners of Kita's mouth turned up in a small, but unmistakably warm smile.

Aran, seated beside Kita, noticed the change immediately. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile before a match you're not playing in, Kita," he remarked quietly.

Kita's expression remained soft as he replied, "There's a first time for everything, Aran."

Atsumu, never one for subtlety, leaned forward with a grin. "So that's her, Kita-san? The one who's got our captain all starry-eyed?"

"I wouldn't say starry-eyed," Kita responded evenly, though his gaze never left you. "But yes, that's [Y/N]."

Osamu, more perceptive than his twin, noted, "Ya look proud, Kita-san."

Kita nodded, a hint of warmth coloring his voice. "I am. [Y/N] works hard and plays with integrity. There's a lot to be proud of."

As the teams gathered for their pre-game huddles, Suna couldn't resist asking, "So, what's she like on the court, Kita-san? As disciplined as you?"

For a moment, a flash of affectionate amusement crossed Kita's face. "She has her own style," he said simply. "Watch, and you'll see."

The shrill whistle signaled the start of the match. From your very first move, it was clear that Kita's pride wasn't misplaced. Your plays were precise, your movements efficient, and your game sense impressive.

"Wow," Atsumu muttered after you executed a particularly well-timed set. "She's really good."

"Of course," Kita replied, his tone matter-of-fact but tinged with warmth. "She practices diligently every day."

Aran chuckled. "Sounds like someone else we know."

As the match progressed, Kita's teammates couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in their usually stoic captain. While he remained composed, there was an intensity in his gaze as he watched you play, a slight lean forward during crucial points, and a barely audible intake of breath when you were up to serve.

When you pulled off a perfect receive that turned the tide of a rally, Kita actually stood up, applauding softly but earnestly. "Excellent form," he said, loud enough for his teammates to hear.

Atsumu's eyes widened in surprise. "Woah, Kita-san actually cheered!"

"It's not cheering," Kita corrected calmly, settling back into his seat. "It's acknowledging good volleyball."

"Right," Osamu smirked. "And I'm sure it has nothing to do with who's playing that good volleyball."

Kita's response was a serene smile that somehow managed to silence even the rambunctious twins.

As the match reached its climax, even Kita couldn't maintain his usual calm demeanor entirely. The scores were tight, but your team had the edge. In a critical moment, you positioned yourself perfectly for a block, your timing impeccable. The gymnasium held its breath as you jumped, your hands forming a solid wall that sent the ball spinning back to the opponent's court.

The final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory. While the crowd erupted in cheers, Kita's reaction was more subdued but no less meaningful. He stood, applauding with genuine enthusiasm, a proud smile gracing his features.

"Well done, [Y/N]," he said softly, his eyes shining with admiration.

As the crowd began to disperse, you made your way over to where Kita and his teammates were seated. Kita met you halfway, his usual measured stride quickened by an eagerness he couldn't quite conceal.

"Congratulations," he said warmly, reaching out to take your hand. "You played beautifully."

You beamed at him, squeezing his hand. "Thanks for coming, Shin. It means a lot."

"I wouldn't have missed it," he replied, his thumb brushing over your knuckles affectionately.

"So this is the famous [Y/N]," Aran said, approaching with a friendly smile. "The one who's managed to make our Kita break his composure."

Kita's expression remained serene, but a faint blush colored his cheeks. "Everyone, this is [Y/N]. [Y/N], these are my teammates."

As introductions were made, the twins couldn't resist some gentle teasing.

"Ya know, [Y/N]," Atsumu started with a mischievous grin, "if ya ever want tips on how to get Kita-san to loosen up a bit-"

"I assure you, she doesn't need any tips," Kita interjected smoothly, his calm tone belied by the protective way he stepped closer to you.

You chuckled, leaning slightly into Kita's side. "Don't worry, guys. I appreciate Shin just as he is - reliable, hardworking, and wonderfully supportive."

Osamu nodded approvingly. "You've got good taste, [Y/N]-san."

As the group headed out to celebrate your victory, you found yourself walking beside Kita, his steady presence a comforting constant amidst the team's lively chatter. 

Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[scarletsknight]

f*ck me like you’re famous

wc: 3.3k

pairing: eddie x fem!reader

synopsis: the man everyone wants only wants you 

cw: 18+ mdni!!, rockstar!eddie, non canon au, smut, use of marijuana, mentions of alcohol consumption, established relationship, pet names, teasing, eddie's rings (y’all alr know), choking, fingering, oral sex (giving/receiving), orgasm denial, praising, hair pulling, reader has an oral fixation (lowkey), multiple orgasms, mirror sex (not really but kinda), lil bit of possessiveness, overuse of the word fuck, marking, sex while under the influence, unprotected sex, aftercare, fluff?

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts since my first acc got snipped and just never reposted 😭 but i lowkey wanna get back into writing for this account. pls don’t come for me if i don’t follow through tho life is just fucking crazy rn but i miss this blog and i miss you guys so i’ll try. but until then i hope y’all enjoy this!! 🫶🏽

Eddie wasn't expecting much difference when Corroded Coffin started playing at the Hideout on Fridays instead of Tuesdays. But the crowd more than quadrupled in size, and it seemed to keep growing every week they came back. 

In the middle of one of their songs, Eddie spotted you not too far from the small stage.

You had been fixated on the band's lead guitarist since you got here, barely taking your eyes from him as he expertly moved his fingers over the strings of his instrument. 

This is what Eddie's always wanted; playing for an actual crowd of people and not just five drunks. But now, as he hears the cheers and sees everyone headbanging along to the music, a dream he's had for so long, all he can do is focus on you. 

After their set was over, Eddie was surprisingly quick to start loading their things into his van.

Eddie was getting no help from his bandmates as they were distracted by the group of girls that had come up and started talking to them. One of them even tried flirting with Eddie, but he quickly excuses himself once he finds you again, smoking.

He weaves his way past the people crowding the alleyway behind the bar, walking through clouds of smoke.

With your back turned to him, you didn't see him coming as you were in the middle of a conversation with your friends, passing a joint around. 

Eddie's eyes slowly drank you in as he approached you.

To say you look good would be an understatement. Not that Eddie would ever think otherwise, but it was something about the fitting leather pants you were wearing that he was slowly growing obsessed with. 

You feel two hands on your hips, and your back meets his chest. Eddie snakes his arms around you. 

Resting your head against Eddie's shoulder, you turn your head to face him. 

"My love," you lazily grin at him. 

"Hi, angel," Eddie cupped your jaw and brought your lips to his. He could taste the faint traces of alcohol on your tongue and the smoke your lips still tasted of. 

The friends you arrived with all commended Eddie and his band for their performance before you added onto the praises.

"You guys were fucking amazing," you tell him. 

"You really think so?" he asks. 

You turn your body toward him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

"Yeah, of course," you nod, "And I could tell your little groupies thought so too," you said. 

Eddie scoffed, "Groupies? I don't have groupies."

"I beg to differ," you say. Eddie follows your eyes, looking at the same girl from earlier, watching you and Eddie, seeming a little mad that someone else has their hands all over him. But you don't give a shit; Eddie was yours first. 

"You jealous?" he teases.

"Never. You're so fucking hot," you tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him closer as if there was any space left between you, "And I don't know, I kinda loved watching everyone go crazy over you, knowing you're gonna fuck my brains out later."

Eddie backed you up against the side of your friend's car, deepening the kiss as he held your face. 

"Keep talking and looking at me like that, I'll take you right here," he threatens, and you laugh. 

Eddie slid his leg between yours, making you hum against his lips, and you felt his thighs come into contact with your core. 

"Eddie," you murmur. From the look in your eyes, he could already tell what you were thinking. 

"Wanna get out of here?" 

"Do you really have to ask?" you smirk.

You bid your friends goodbye, Eddie thanking all of them for coming and letting them know when and where Corroded Coffin is playing next. Walking to his van, hand in hand, Eddie opens the passenger side door for you after you said your byes to the rest of the band. 

Eddie kept one hand on the wheel while the other rested on your thigh. Briefly looking over at you, Eddie feels his chest swell. He watches you roll a joint for him, not wanting to waste any time once you get home, and he couldn't be more in love.

Watching your face twist up in concentration as you wrap the paper around the bud, using the skills he taught you, only made something stir inside Eddie. His hand on your leg started inching higher and higher, firmly squeezing your thigh. 

"Babe, don't start. I'm tryna concentrate," you said, rolling the paper between your fingers. 

"Can't help it when you're the hottest girlfriend on the planet," he grins. 

You glance over at him out of the corner of your eye. "Just shut up and keep your eyes on the road, Munson," you said. 

But Eddie didn't miss the smile that stretched across your face from his words. 

Once Eddie was parked, he hopped out of the van with the freshly rolled joint between his lips, still unlit. He was humming one of Corroded Coffin's songs as he waited for you with his held hand out for you to take as you got out of the van. 

Knowing the whole place was empty, Eddie loudly sang as the two of you slow danced into his trailer. Eddie, dramatically swaying and spinning you around, had giggles spilling from your mouth as you made your way to his room. 

Taking off his shoes and jacket, Eddie swipes a lighter from his desk before sitting at the edge of his bed and sparking the joint. 

Eddie hummed delightedly as thick clouds of smoke entered his lungs. He fell back onto his bed, staring up at his ceiling, taking another drag. 

Having gotten distracted by your boyfriend's immense music collection, not knowing what to put on, you finally make your way over to him. 

Eddie feels the bed sink on either side of his legs as you climb on top of him. He rests one hand on your hip while he smokes with the other. 

You pluck the joint out of his mouth, bringing the filter to your lips and taking a hit for yourself. 

Both his hands are on you now, moving up to your waist. You readjust yourself in his lap, and you hear Eddie sigh. You start subtly dragging your hips against his as you expel the smoke through your nose.

Eddie looked up at you like you were a goddess he was more than ready to worship. 

"God, you're so fucking perfect," Eddie said, "And all mine." 

You would've clenched your thighs together if Eddie's body wasn't between them. You leaned down, grabbing Eddie's jaw and bringing his lips closer to yours. Eddie parted his lips as you blew the smoke into his mouth. 

"And you're mine," you whisper, kissing his face. 

You both sit up, your lips still connected to his. 

"You know that I love you," he stared up at you, his big brown eyes drowning in adoration for you.

"I know," you lean your forehead against his, "I love you too," you tell him before pressing your lips to his.

"Ever since high school. The moment you walked into O'Donnell's class 30 minutes late wearing that goddamn skirt," Eddie slides his hands up your thighs.

You hum into his mouth, kissing him deeply.

"Just promise you won't forget me when you guys become famous," you joke.

"I would never," he says, "You think I'm crazy enough to give this pussy up."

"I hate you," you giggle against his lips.

"Didn't you just say you love me?"

"Yeah, well I change my mind and take it back," you teasingly say, getting out of his lap.

You turn your back to him, but Eddie doesn't let you get too far before he's on his feet too, wrapping his arms around you. Laughs spill from your lips as he holds you against his chest, burying his face into your neck.

"Tell me you love me," he said lowly in your ear, the raspiness of his voice causing slick to pool between your legs.

"No," you said like a moody child.

"Come on, sweetheart, just tell me."

Eddie's fingers found the buttons on your pants, starting to undo them. You wiggle your hips a little assisting Eddie in getting the leather down your legs. He slipped one of his hands between your thighs, stroking your clothed heat.

If Eddie's arm wasn't wrapped around your middle, your knees would've buckled. Between being high and having been incredibly horny for your boyfriend all night, you were extremely sensitive to his touch.

"Let me hear it," he rasps in your ear.

"Eddie," you let your head fall back against his shoulder.

"Mhm?" he hums into your neck.

"I-" the words die on your tongue when he slips his hand into your underwear.

You whimper, feeling the cool metal of his rings against your warm skin. He runs his fingers through your folds, letting your slick coat his digits, purposely neglecting your clit.

"All this for a man you hate?" he scoffs.

You whine, squirming in his arms, trying to move your hips against his hand. But Eddie's strength doesn't allow for it.

"Tell me you love me and I'll give you anything, baby."

You quickly drop the act, falling deeper into this headspace, desperate for Eddie to do anything.

"I love you, Eddie."

"See? That wasn't so hard, now, was it."

He kisses your cheek, starting to rub small circles on your clit. You practically melt against his body, and he falls back onto his bed with you between his legs. You turn your head to capture Eddie's lips in a kiss. At the same time, you're lifting your hips and pulling your underwear off, carelessly letting the piece of fabric hang from your ankle.

Eddie grabs your thighs, keeping them apart. He brings his hand back down to your pussy, lazily playing with your clit.

"Look at you, baby," you follow Eddie's eyes to the mirror by his bed. The sight of you between his legs as he toyed with your clit should've flooded you with embarrassment, but you were already too far gone to care. "So fucking beautiful." he kissed your temple.

"Eds," you start squirming.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Please," you grabbed his wrist, directing his hand where you really needed him.

"So so wet," the tip of his finger teasingly circled your hole before slipping inside you, "And so fucking tight." he then added a second.

You braced yourself with your hands on Eddie's thighs, your nails scratching the denim of his jeans.

"That feel good, baby?"

"Y-Yes. So good."

Eddie pressed his lips to yours as he found a steady rhythm for his fingers. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, and you moan around the wet muscle as he curls his fingers against your soft walls.

"Oh god, Eddie—please," you tell him.

Your legs threatened to close around his hand before he pulled them apart with his other hand. The same hand trails up your body, cupping your boob over your shirt, feeling your perky nipple beneath the material since you opted for no bra tonight. He tweaked the sensitive nub between his fingers, causing you to gasp and your pussy to flutter around his fingers.

"Fuck-m'gonna cum."

"Yeah? you wanna cum all over my fingers, pretty girl?"

"Yes! please please l-"

You let out a broken cry, feeling your orgasm being so abruptly ripped away. You heard Eddie laugh as your hips tried to chase his hand before he left you untouched.

"That's what you get for acting like a brat," he said.

That teasing little fucker.

Turning yourself around to face him, Eddie sees the pout on your face before it's taken over by a smirk.

"I'm sorry, baby," you slowly let your fingers trail down his chest, "let me make it up to you," you fluttered your lashes at him.

Eddie grinned as your hand reached the front of his jeans, palming his semi hard on through his clothes.

He pulled his shirt over his head, flinging it somewhere in the room. You quickly undo his jeans, slipping your hand inside his boxers and beginning to stroke his length.

"Fuck, princess," Eddie groans when you squeeze your fist around him.

You started pulling his jeans off along with his underwear, and Eddie kicked them off his legs the rest of the way. You positioned yourself between his legs, circling your thumb around the tip, smearing the beads of precum all over his cock.

You look up at him through your lashes before you take him into your mouth. You start slow, only sucking on the head, letting the salty precum land on your tongue while you wrap your hand around the base of his cock.

"That's it, sweetheart. Just like that," Eddie sighs, stroking the back of your head as you take more of him into your mouth.

Whether it was your high or just your infatuation with this man, you couldn't get enough of the feeling of Eddie in your mouth. The weight of his cock on your tongue and his breathy moans were enough to have you pressing your thighs together.

You run your tongue along the underside of his cock, coating his length in your saliva. Eddie ran a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes as if he didn't want to miss a thing. Even with tears in your eyes and spit pooling out of the corners of your mouth, Eddie still couldn't take his eyes off you. 

The muscles in Eddie's stomach contracted as he started to roll his hips against your face. You slowly started taking more of him into your mouth, focusing on breathing through your nose as you relax your throat for Eddie. You didn't care about the limits of your gag reflex, taking Eddie's dick deeper down your throat.

Eddie tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you off him. You whine, not just from the pleasurable pain throbbing from your scalp but the loss of his cock in your mouth.

"Shit, you almost made me cum," he said, shallowly breathing.

"So why didn't you?" you ask, ready to slide him back into your mouth.

Eddie's hold on your hair tightens as he holds you where he wants you.

He smiles as you weakly moan, "Cause as much as I love watching you take me down that pretty little throat of yours, I really need to fuck you."

You moan again, but this time at his words. 

"Please fuck me, Eddie," you didn't care how desperate you sounded. "Please."

"I know, angel, I know."

Once every piece of clothing was discarded, your teeth clashed with his in a heated kiss. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, easily dominating the kiss. Your head met the pillows as Eddie's laid you down. He took his place between your legs, looking down at you. 

Your eyes travel down Eddie's body, studying the ink littered all over his skin like you haven't hundreds of times before.

The muscles in his arm flexed as he pumped his cock in his hand, and you wanted desperately to squeeze your thighs together. 

"How bad do you want it?"

"I want you so fucking badly, Eddie. Been thinking about having you all night. It was hard not thinking about getting up on that stage and letting you have your way with me in front of everyone, so they know who you belong to."

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you before you shrug.

"I told you, not jealous. Maybe just a little possessive."

"That's even hotter," Eddie tells you, "You're mine just as much as I'm yours," you felt his cockhead nudging into your entrance. 

"Yours...Mine," you moan out the word as he slides into you.

You thought the feeling of Eddie inside of you, filling you up, would make you delirious. 

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good."

"Eddie~" 

Eddie started moving slowly, only rocking his hips into yours steadily. 

Eddie knew you as well as the back of his hand. From every movement you make to the noises that spill from your lips, it's like he could tell what you wanted without vocalizing it.

He circled his arms under your legs, your calves resting on his shoulders. 

"Yes—my fucking god, Eddie," you buried your head into the pillows. 

You reach out to him, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in his skin as he folds you over, pressing your knees to your chest. Eddie's cock deliciously stretched your walls, feeling him so deep you were sure he was in your guts. 

Eddie dropped your legs from his shoulders to kiss you. He swallowed your moans, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. 

"You're so fucking wet," he groans against your lips. 

"You feel so good," you whimper. 

Sitting back on his haunches, he spreads your legs wider, mesmerized by the way his cock disappears inside you. 

His cock twitches against your soft walls, seeing you fucked out beneath him. Your tits bounce with every one of his movements. Goosebumps rose on your skin from his rings as he slid his hand up your torso. He didn't miss the chance to tease you, rolling and pinching one of your nipples between his fingers. 

You grab Eddie's wrist, silently telling him what you want as you bring his hand to your neck. Eddie wraps his fingers around your throat, applying pressure to the sides, sure to not crush your windpipe. 

Your eyes rolled back, and Eddie could feel your pussy pulsing around him. Feeling the stainless steel digging into your skin added to the euphoria coursing through your veins. 

Eddie saw the smile etched onto your face as he pounded into you and thought he couldn't be more in love. 

"Shit, angel, I don't know if I'm gonna last any longer."

"Please don't stop. I'm so close."

"You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"

"Yes...Please, Eddie." 

"I want you to cum with me," Eddie's hand finds its way between you, rubbing uncoordinated circles on your clit. 

All you could do was weakly nod at him. 

The music was barely heard over the sounds of your moans and heavy breaths with the obscene squelching coming from where your bodies connected. You blink your eyes to refocus on the man above you. Eddie's messy hair clung to his forehead and neck from the thin layer of sweat covering his skin. The guitar pick he has on the small chain around his neck dangles above your face, and you slightly tug on it to bring him back down and meet his lips with yours. 

"I fucking love you," you said to Eddie as you came. 

Eddie couldn't hold off any longer, cumming after you said those words to him. His cum painted your walls white, slowly thrusting into you as your pussy milked his cock. 

"Fuck, I love you too," he mumbled into your mouth. 

You lazily made out, the both of you taking your time to come down from your highs. 

Eddie finally moved from between your legs, and you could already feel his cum start to spill out of you.

"Don't move," he tells you. 

"Like I have a choice. Unless you want another addition to the collection of stains."

"Like you aren't responsible for half the stains on this bed."

You gasp dramatically, "And whose fault is that!?"

Eddie laughed, picking up his boxers from the pile of clothes on the floor before leaving the room. He came back shortly with a damp washcloth and took his place back between your legs. 

You saw Eddie lick his lips as he stared at your pussy, messy with his cum. 

"Baby, the sheets," you remind him.

"Right," he snapped out of his thoughts, "It's kinda hot, though," he said with a smirk, wiping your sticky skin. 

"You're so gross," you shake your head. 

"But you love it," he grins.

a/n: feedback is appreciated!! thank you for reading <33

[moonstruckme]

hii idk if ur taking requests but can u write sth with rockstar!remus who’s like full of adrenaline after a shkw and just kisses r ☹️☹️ the others wont let them be LOLLL😭😭😭 hope ur having an amazing day 💘

You have an amazing day too !

rockstar!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 643 words

James all but sprints off the stage, as he always does, working off his post-show adrenaline the best way he knows how. His routine seems unaltered by the fact that this is the biggest show the boys have played yet, but you don’t suppose he can really kick it into a higher gear than it already is. It’s also entertaining for the rest of you, watching him hurdle over sound equipment and careen past frightened-looking crew members before calling a “sorry!” behind him. 

You know to expect Remus behind him, leaving the stage at a slower pace while Sirius stays and soaks up the energy for as long as he can before someone physically drags him off, but you’re not expecting the unusual energy about your boyfriend when he comes in. 

Remus is crackling, the exact sound of when he plugs his bass into the amp but around him like an aura. Your heart kicks in your chest. 

You beam at him, holding up the small bouquet you’d impulse-bought at a stand a few blocks from the venue. You feel a bit silly, but Remus doesn’t seem to mind. 

He lets out a breathy little laugh at the sight of you and shakes his head as he takes two long strides, grasping your hips and pressing you into the wall. 

The flowers are instantly forgotten. Remus’ mouth is warm and insistent on yours, his knee pushing in between your legs and his nose pressed into your cheek. You don’t realize you’ve stopped breathing until he breaks the kiss. 

He sets both hands on your cheeks. There are crew members buzzing around you, and the crowd is still thrumming outside, and somewhere James is talking loudly, but Remus’ face is the only thing in the world. Scarred and sweaty and smiling at you. 

“Great show,” you scrape out. 

Another short laugh. If you didn’t know better, you’d say your boyfriend was giddy. “Yeah?” He gives you another kiss, shorter but still shock-happy. His lips stay curved against yours. “I thought so,” he admits, a bit softer, like a secret. 

You lower your voice to match. “You were incredible.” 

Remus grins even bigger, brilliant and totally unlike himself. He’s practically glowing. 

“Remus,” Sirius shouts, prancing toward the both of you with his usual regard for private intimacy, “if you’d pause in fondling your girlfriend, James says we’ve got a group out back who wants autographs.” 

Remus drops his forehead to yours, his disbelieving puff of air tickling over your nose. You pet down the hairs at his nape. 

“Oh, are these for us?” Sirius sounds delighted. Remus doesn’t take the bait, but you do, turning to find him looking at the flowers hanging limply from your grasp. “Doll, you shouldn’t have!”

“How could I resist,” you play along, letting go of Remus to ease one of the stems out from the rest. Sirius takes it from you happily. “They go so well with your outfits.” 

“More Remus’ than ours,” James notes, coming over. He’s even sweatier than the other two, but his excess energy seems mostly spent, “but I’m sure that’s only coincidence.” 

“Certainly,” Sirius agrees. “She’d never pick favorites. Say, babe, want me to sign something of yours?”

“She’s good,” Remus answers for you, tugging you closer and touching his lips to your brow. “I’ve got this one.” 

“I’ll bet you do.” James is grinning. He prods Remus’ shoulder, encouraging you both to follow him towards where the fans are waiting. “She may not pick favorites, but you will, is that right?” 

“Enough,” Remus says, but he’s still too happy to work up any real rancor. 

“Oh, I already know you’re gonna get an extra special autograph, doll,” Sirius teases. Your face starts to heat. “Likely when we see you tomorrow, he’ll have left you some even darker than a marker could do—” 

“Enough.” 

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔼𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: ℂ𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕒𝕝

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 ℙ𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: fluff, pet names, swearing, ruthie’s a bully, ruthie and the reader fight, heavy angst, gaslighting, verbal altercation between rafe and the reader, drinking

All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! The premise the reader catches Rafe, Topper, and Ruthie talking about her from a distance (homage to s4). There will also be a nod to the beach episode with added drama between Ruthie and the reader. This post is based off an ask requesting a tie between the story and the song “Casual” by Chappell Roan ♥️

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

The Island Club Christmas Party… You never thought you'd find yourself here.

You rest your back against the wall, listening to the party from down the hall, taking a moment to yourself. Well, it started that way until you heard his voice. You couldn't help but hang back, listening to him speak candidly, intrigued as Rafe’s voice weaves deftly between a conversation with Topper and his girlfriend.

“Y/n?” Ruthie cuts as Rafe mentions looking for a bigger house, making plans for the future. Your name on her lips makes your stomach turn.

“What about her?” Rafe drawls before taking a sip.

"She’s pretty Pogue. Isn't she? Are you and y/n getting serious now? She seems… invested,” she needles, wrapping her glossy lips around her straw.

Rafe pauses for a moment, thinking of a reply, letting the words hang in the air for far too long. “Just ‘cause we hooked up doesn't mean she’s my girlfriend. Okay?” He mumbles.

“I’m just saying the two of you are together a lot… Wait, are you lookin’ for a place with her?” She asks, tilting her head slightly, letting her judgment bleed into her tone.

“I’m not livin’ with a Pogue,” Rafe answers without hesitantion.

Ruthie and Topper smile at each other and chuckle at the ridiculousness of her question. “I don't know. Just thought I'd ask,” she giggles to Top as he wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

“It’s casual… Nothin’ more. Nothin’ less,” Rafe adds, getting the final word. The rug gets pulled from underneath you. The harsh realization that you mean so little to him cutting through you like a knife, especially when he means everything to you.

You walk back to the ballroom—the party hitting you at full force—the smug laughter of the Kooks, rich music flowing, the clinking of champagne glasses between lofty toasts. All the noises battle Rafe’s cruel words, screaming in your mind.

"You coming to brunch tomorrow?" Wheezie’s voice startles you, pulling you out of the depths. She stands in front of you, bright-eyed and innocent, looking up at you with a sweet smile. “John B’s comin’ too,” Rafe’s little sister mentions a familiar friend in an attempt to sway you and make you feel more comfortable, her question just twisting the knife further, every word driving it home that you weren't anything more than a fling— your invitation to brunch apparently lost somewhere down the line.

You offer a strained smile, lips trembling. "Maybe," you say quietly, "I might have plans."

Wheezie’s lips tug to the side, and she nods, not wanting to push it further. “Well, I hope you can make it,” she smiles gently before stepping away.

You walk toward the tables, looking up at the stage, seeing Pope behind the piano playing for the crowd. His fingers move masterfully along the keys, holding their attention as he weaves between Christmas songs, flowing into the next effortlessly. He looks the part; his tailored suit fits him like a glove. You can't help but envy how well he slips into this world, which seems to weigh heavier on your shoulders with every passing second.

You reach for your champagne flute, watching it tremble in your hand. Heat builds behind your eyes as you start to pick yourself apart, just simple things. You notice how chipped your sparkly nails had gotten from doing the dishes before you left, something so superficial now a strike held against you. You toss back the rest of your drink, tucking your hands under the table.

“A drink, My Lady,” your eyes lift to another friend. JJ Maybank. He rests a glass of champagne on the table, taking away your spent drink. His smile falls as his eyes match yours. “Hey-Hey, you alright?” He asks quickly, his voice laced with concern. JJ’s gaze shoots up, scanning the party for Rafe, knowing it most likely has something to do with him.

“It’s fine, Jayj,” you breathe.

“Want me to kill him?” He asks dryly, making you laugh and roll your eyes.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” you sigh.

You look over your shoulder, heart fluttering as Rafe walks around the corner with two mixed drinks. He looks handsome—his honey-colored hair brushed back, showing off his beautiful face. His muscular body is hugged in a dark green suit, matching your dress perfectly as the two of you had planned. Rafe scans the crowd, smiling brightly as he sees you.

You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to forget everything he said, but you can't.

Casual? There was nothing casual about us. How could I not know this is how he felt? How could I be so wrong?

Six months… What’s causal about that? Were you casual this morning when he woke up in your bed? When you made him breakfast and sipped coffee as you chatted about tonight? Were you casual when he took you out to dinner? His beautiful blue eyes locked on yours while he whispered you were ‘the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen…’

Rafe Cameron, the man who trusts no one told you secrets you had to promise to say no one… Casual? I'm a fucking idiot.

Your jaw tightens, teeth-gritted, as you see Ruthie and Topper step around the corner too, following along. The three of them stroll toward your table, sitting down, making themselves comfortable as you try to compose yourself—doing your best to hide the disappointment painted all over your face.

"Wow," she calls as she looks around the room, chuckling mockingly, "We have Heyward and Maybank. I could use something to eat, y/n. Is that your job?"

You straighten up in your seat, cocking an eyebrow in her direction, biting back an angry reply as you feel Rafe’s hand rest on your thigh, grounding you in the moment. Ruthie smirks, catching the shift in your demeanor, getting off on the fact that she got to you, not wanting to stop now that she started.

"Your friends seem to know their place,” she smiles as she points to JJ, gathering some trash from an empty table, "accidentally" knocking her glass over in the process, soaking the lap of your dress before you can get a word out.

You gasp, watching the liquor spread along the fabric. All eyes turn to you. "Oh no,” she pouts, poking out her bottom lip. "Shit, y/n. I’m sorry.” Rafe quickly grabs a linen napkin, blotting the stain. You bite your cheek, fluttering your lashes to hold back tears.

“You okay, baby?” He whispers. You shake your head ‘no,’ feeling the champagne seep through your dress, trickling down your legs and onto the floor below. “Don’t know what the policy is on a rental. Maybe they’ll cut you a deal,” Ruthie giggles airily against the rim of her champagne flute before taking a sip.

The room spins around you; humiliation and sadness quickly snuffed out by a surge of rage. You shove out of your seat, grabbing for Ruthie before tearing her to the floor. “Fuck you!” You hiss as you draw your hand back, slapping her face like you’ve want to do for months, making her head snap to the side.

She shrieks in anger, clawing her manicured hands against your face and arms in an attempt to get you off as you start swinging, blacking out completely.

"Get off me!" She cries.

“Y/n, stop,” Rafe yells as he grabs your arms, pulling you off her. You lift your foot, kicking her back down to the ground, making her sob as your spike heel hits her quick and hard.

"You think you’re better than everyone?" You shout as you fight against Rafe’s grasp. "You’re not-”

“Control you, Pogue, Cameron,” Ruthie cuts over to Rafe as she thumbs some blood from her bottom lip.

“Fuckin’ cunt,” you grunt as you escape, grabbing for her, but Rafe lifts you off your feet, hauling you back. “If you keep running your mouth, Ruthie. You better learn how to fuckin’ fight-”

"Enough!" Rafe snarls in a low, angry tone.

He grabs your arm tightly, dragging you toward the door, guiding you into the freezing night’s air. You tear away from his grasp, charging toward the main road, letting the tears you held in all night go.

“Let me go!” You scream as he grabs you, whirling you around.

“What the fuck was that, huh?” He explodes as he steps closer.

“What was that?” You scream back, voice echoing through the dim parking lot. “I heard you, Rafe. I heard the disgusting shit that you said about me…"

He freezes, his expression shifting from anger to guilt. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he stammers.

“‘Just ‘cause we hooked up doesn't mean she’s my girlfriend.’ What the fuck am I to you, huh?”

“Baby, c’mon…”

“You’d never live with a Pogue. We’re casual. No more. No less. I mean nothing to you.”

“You’re twisting my words.”

"I am not twisting shit!" You hiss, voice cracking with emotion. "You don't respect me. You never fuckin’ did. Admit it.”

“That’s not true!”

“Bullshit!” You bang your fist against his chest, making him shut his eyes, drawing a deep, frustrated breath. “Look at me, Rafe,” you whimper as you show him your dress.

“That was an accident-”

“You’re not that stupid. I know you're not.”

“She’s a bitch… That’s just Ruthie,” he mutters like that excuse will get him anywhere. “You know I'll pay for it. The night’s almost over.”

“And that makes it okay? You let her talk to me like that. You didn’t say anything. You just sat there while she embarrassed me.”

"I’m sorry. Okay?" He softens his voice, looking around the parking lot for watchers-on.

“You sat there and watched her tell me I don’t know my place.”

"That was wrong. It’ll never happen again. I'll fix it. I'll tell them we’re not casual. I'll tell Ruthie everything I should have said when she was talking to you like that. I'll make this right. Just let me make this right-"

You shake your head fast, the bitterness leaving your lips in a disgusted laugh. “You don’t get it, Rafe, do you? You can't repair what just happened in there. It’s done. The little regard you had for me is all they’ll remember. You do not have my back. Allowing them to talk to me like you did without stepping in is somethin’ they’ll never forget. It’s just somethin’ they can use against me. You don't think she’ll bring that shit up again? You think those little comments you made died on your lips, Rafe? ‘Cause they didn’t.”

Rafe reaches for you, his eyes desperate and glossy with tears. “You’re upset. Let’s talk about this tomorrow. Please, just—”

"No. I’m done. I am done not being good enough for you, Rafe.”

"Let me help you relax," he says, lowering his tone further as he reaches for again. "You're just overwhelmed." You shove him back, anger and heartbreak churning in your system. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me. I’m done.”

The Twinkie rumbles behind you, breaking the tension. Pope pulls beside you, opening the door, his concerned stare meeting you. JJ hops out of the van before it can even roll to a complete stop; a wide, wild smile is painted on his lips, just begging Rafe to grab you again.

“Think she told you to stop touchin’ her, Cameron,” JJ cuts to Rafe as he steps between the two of you. Rafe shoves him, the two quickly getting in each other's faces. You grab JJ’s arm, tugging him back to the van. Without another word, you climb in, slamming the door shut.

Rafe’s rapid breathing mists in the night as the blood drains from his face. "Don't go, baby. C’mon,” he begs, his pleas getting swallowed up by the roar of the van's motor.

You look back at him through the window, feeling your heart break all over again. Rafe’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears, his head hanging low as he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his phone and keys.

Pope wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. You rest your head on his chest, taking a deep, needed breath.

After a few minutes, your phone buzzes in your lap as the van heads north, leaving Figure Eight in the dust. You blink away the tears from your eyes, looking down at the text from Rafe.

Rafe: I'm sorry princess. I was a fucking idiot and I hurt you. I care about you so much more than I ever let you know.

Rafe: I'm sorry I fucked up and embarrassed you like I did.

Rafe: Please let me make it right. I'll do anything. Even if it means leaving you alone while you figure out if I'm worth it

Rafe: please give me another chance

You smear a tear into the screen and lock it, wanting to believe him, but you're too overwhelmed. As soon as you close it, another text comes in.

Rafe: I’m driving to your place right now.

Rafe: Please give me a chance to explain. There’s nothing casual about us.

Rafe: Not to me.

Your chest tightens, anger and heartbreak warring on you. Those were his words. He said you were casual. He said he couldn’t see a future with you. And he said that shit ‘cause he thought you weren't listening. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, and against your better judgment, you type.

You: Ok

Rafe’s car pulls up to the front of the château. You watch as he steps out of the car in his suit, his jacket off, and his tie loose. His hair is messy now, hanging down on his forehead, his cheeks dewy and splotchy from the tears he’d never let the Pogues see.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his words wavering. “I didn’t mean what I said back there. That was the stupidest shit I’ve ever done. Alright? You mean everything to me-”

“Do I?” You ask, challenging his words. “Because you made me feel like nothing, Rafe.”

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “I’ll spend every day proving it to you if you let me.”

“You love me, Rafe? Love? Why the fuck would you say that now? Do you think I’ll let this go ‘cause you “love me”?” You hurt me, Rafe,” you whisper. “How can I trust that you mean what you say when you talk about me like that behind my back? ”

“I know,” he said. “And I’ll never forgive myself for it. But I can’t lose you.”

“I need some time, Rafe.”

“A break-”

“We’re casual…” You correct him. “A break from what?”

He buries his head in his hands as his emotions start chipping away at his icy exterior.

Rafe meets your gaze again, bushing the sleeve of his white shirt along his eyes. “Can’t we go back to the way we were before? Back to how we were before we got to that stupid fuckin’ party. I can work to prove that you are right this time. That we’re together—you and me. Boyfriend; girlfriend. There’ll be no questions from you or anyone else that it’s serious… That I'm serious about you and I,” he rambles.

You look back at the broken man before you, hating yourself for wanting to do just that, loving yourself enough to shake your head ‘no.’ “We can't go back to the way things were…”

His head falls, tears tumbling to concrete steps below. “Please,” he sniffles.

“I don't want what we had. I want something different. I'm gonna need more, Rafe.”

He nods his head, taking in your words. “Can I pick you up tomorrow? Nine AM. Brunch… With my family, if you’re interested. Please say ‘yes’…”

He steps a little closer, taking your hand in his, his eyes pleading with yours for another chance.

“I don’t know, Rafe…” You whisper.

“Please, baby. I don't deserve it, I know. I got a lot I have to fix, and if shit doesn't change, you can drop me, and I swear I’ll leave you alone. You won't have to worry about me anymore. Okay?”

“Rafe…”

“I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. Everything I just said to you I meant. And I know you said you don't believe that I love you and I don't blame you. I’m gonna show you. Okay? Everyday… Your place is beside me, alright? Where I go is where you belong. You gotta believe me.”

You look up into his tear-stained eyes, and for the second time, you go against your better judgment, putting your heart in the hands of a boy you can only hope means every word he says, unwilling to lose the man you thought you had.

“Okay.”

[rainynightmoonlight]

GXHDJSJSJS I JUST READ YOUR FIC ABOUT THE MERMAN CUTIE AND OMG I LOVE LOVE LOVE RANEE (I THINK THAT"S HOW YOU SPELL THAT) HE'S JUST PERFECT😭😭😭

ANYWAYSSS, so i was thinking... what he do if reader suddenly stopped coming to kayak, because they got sick? How would he react when they finally started coming back again?

Love your works btw😉💋💖💖

Where's my Human? || Yandere Merman x Gn Kayaker Reader

Characters: Ranee

Summary: He gets so worried when you're not there to kayak

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence, stalking

A/n: Yeah that's how you spell it, I'm so happy you love him nonnie! He's my special merboy! And thank you! Also, mention of Malakai

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Let's be real, Ranee has no concept of sickness or injuries. Fin rot is the closest thing he knows, and it's only common within pet fish. There are parasites and other ocean germs, but nothing like human sickness. So if you stop showing up for a while brings up so much concern. He straight up thinks you're dead. Though it takes a bit of build up for him to actually think of that conclusion.

The first day you don't show up to the beach, he just thinks you got busy. You usually don't come to kayak every day. That's something you told him when he freaked out the first time you didn't show up. Something about sore muscles. He was too focused on you when you told him so he didn't listen.

The second day is when he becomes a bit panicked. This is the stage where he starts swimming the coastline and asking other sea creatures that swim the coast about you. When they say they haven't seen you that's when his brain starts to spiral. Ranee just swims up and down the coastline for the next couple of days, watching the beaches for any sign of you in case you moved and forgot to tell him.

Then a thought comes to his mind, much to his distaste. Ranee thought and contemplated on visiting your human friend. One reason he was against it was because your human friend was trying to take you away from him. Didn't this human know that you were his mate? Beside the point, he didn't have you to guide him out once he swims in, and he's so easily lost.

After grumbling and pacing around in his sea cave to the nearest fish who have no clue what is going on, he decides to visit your human friend. He managed to remember the way there, you better praise him if you ever come back.

He groans as he sees your human friend on his dock of his very shiny home. Malakai prepares himself for any mischief Ranee has brought today but is caught of guard by the merman talking using the limited language he has. Malakai eventually catches your name in the merman's garbled up human speak and barely catches on.

“Oh, you mean Y/n? Yeah, they're sick right now. Texted me they won't be by the docks for a few days.”

Thus leads into Malakai trying to explain what sickness is to the very confused Ranee. After a few hours of body anatomy lessons Ranee comes to the conclusion that you are in fact dying. So the merman is trying to find any way to your home only to realize you don't live near any body of water.

A few more days of your absence leaves Ranee all mopy. Just invite him to your funeral okay? He couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least part with you properly. He's slumped over on a rock, holding the things he had taken from you. He peppered each in tiny kisses. Oh, gods please hear him and give your soul back to him. That's the leas they could do for torturing you like this!

All the fish that came past his cave would swim in and nibble on his skin. Sea lions and seals alike would come in to push him out of the cave. Ranee didn't want to come out to play like he usually does. Not without you!

His life is so meaningless without you. The seals were barking at him to come out of his cave until a ray had swam over. His mopy attitude switches when he gets news from the ray that it saw you back on your kayak and was paddling out in the open. Ranee is completely overjoyed that you were back.

Swimming as fast as his fins could take him, Ranee jumps out like a dolphin and tackles you into the water. You're startled and thrashing but Ranee's cold, scaly face calms you down. You can only chuckle at the merman's clingyness.

“You don't have to almost drown me if you want my attention every time, Ranee.”

He shakes his head as his tail coils around your legs. You shiver as you're pulled closer to his cold body. No way is he letting go. You worried the hell out of him! Making him think you were dead. Bad mate! He only hits the top of your head, scolding you in grumbles.

“Never allowed, fish sticks and fries.”

You were practically an expert in Ranee talk at this point. You came to understand that he was demanding you to stay and never leave him again for that long. As much as you wanted to comply with such a request, you were going to get sick again if you didn't get out of this cold water.

Begrudgingly did Ranee help you back onto your kayak and pushes you back to shore. When you're drying off on the dock, you tell him what happen and give him a better explanation of what happened.

You're now stuck on that dock, listening to Ranee talk about what he had done while you were gone. He gurgles at your praises when he told you he swam through the harbor all by himself.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[yesimwriting]

Heyy ya!! Hwo you doing? I wanted to ask maybe you can write Coriolanus x reader when he gets to district after just finishing training for pacekeepers, or maybe where his tribute just arrived to the capitol and the reader maybe says the “what does my mentor do besides bring me roses?” Line? ❤️

A/n the turn around for this was so fast for me 😭 i got excited

hi!! i love these prompts and am so glad for the excuse to write something for him 😭,, also i didn't blatantly make the reader the district 12 tribute bc i didn't want to necessarily cute lucy gray out all together, but it's clear that she's from a poorer district and that being assigned to mentor her is an insult to the Snow name,, also reader pulls a katniss and volunteers for a younger family member bc the irony of that scratches an inch in my brain

Summary: After the very public slight of being assigned to mentor a female tribute from a lower district, all Snow can think about is the uphill battle that winning the Plinth prize will now be. Until, he realizes, that he's been given the first ever district volunteer who seems to have a quality that makes people care about her.

Warnings: my first time writing for a specific character, Coriolanus's internal thoughts are a little softer than they should be at some points but i love the accidental and deeply impractical crush trope so

---

Of Angels

The desperation masquerading as fierceness behind her eyes is undeniable. Coriolanus feels the way your panic, your shock as the weight of your own words dawn on you in his chest. He swallows, forcing down the feeling.

Take me--take me instead! The phrase is repeated again and again, shaky and pleading.

Something about the display, about the 12-year-old girl that desperately tries to cling to you as peace keepers push you forward, makes it hard to watch. Even worse, it makes it impossible to look away.

The first ever district volunteer. A suicide mission or a--a desperate call for attention? A decision made out of hysteria that you're already starting to regret?

He can't decide as the footage of you being ushered onto stage is played. Surely, Dr. Gaul and other Capitol officials won't find this acceptable. The concept of volunteering has always been reserved for the careers, the districts that produce well fed children that train for this. It's a way to allow them to pick their best, their strongest. It is not a way for someone to lay down their life for someone else.

"Are you saying you volunteer?"

You blink, eyes wild and bright as you openly survey the crowd. Coriolanus briefly thinks that you might attempt to take what he doubts is an actual out. You seem to be considering something before finally nodding once. The motion so stiff it makes you look smaller, like the girl whose name was originally called.

"Yes," you mumble. The softness of it is a personal accost. Your choice was made in panic, but that isn't who you are. You're not much of a performer or a fighter or even bold...you're not much of a chance at the Plinth Prize. "I-I volunteer."

----

In the end, he had come because of Tigris. She had insisted that there was a way to see his tribute as more than just another face from the districts, as more human than animal.

She loves that little girl enough to die in her place. If I was her, I'd want someone to tell me that my choice meant something. I'd want someone to show that they care about me.

The words had felt dismissible at first, but the more he thought about them, the more it made sense. Panem had seen the entire thing, had seen the way that his tribute continued to comfort the younger girl even after sentencing herself to death. There's a story worthy of a show in that.

If he can convince you to go on camera, to speak of the girl, of the choice...maybe he'd have a chance at his future. And if the public support manages to help you in some way or another, that'd only be an additional benefit. You love that girl enough to die for her, maybe that means you love her enough to fight tooth and nail to live for her as well.

The train that stops at each district pulls to a stop. The doors open, releasing the sound of tributes that are learning the consequences of attempting to cause issues for the peacekeepers.

A boy he vaguely recognizes steps out, and then a younger girl. Are you one of the tributes already risking their lives in an attempt to aggravate peacekeepers? Or maybe you're cowering at the back of the train, clinging onto the safety of a familiar space.

You prove to be neither. You emerge from the train, perfectly in tact and stable.

Coriolanus parts his lips, yet no words manage to come out. You're different in person, the white you're dressed in is objectively dirtier than it was when you were reaped and yet somehow, here in the dim, gray station it feels brighter. A stray beam of sunlight breaking through a cluster of clouds. A promise that the storm will end soon and that the angels have yet to abandon the earth.

Your dress is a simple thing, loose enough to be a hand-me-down or maybe even borrowed, the lace of the skirt falling farther down your knees than it should. That paired with the ribbon scraps tied to each side of your head make you look younger and cruelly innocent.

"Hello." The blandness of his own beginning forces a burning sort of regret to take over his chest. You attentively turn, expression kind and expecting. It only makes the embarrassment he doesn't fully understand scorch him from the inside out with more violence. He's once again struck with the desire to look away and finding himself incapable of doing so. "My name is Coriolanus Snow, and I'm your mentor."

You nod, features hardening. You've pieced it all together--his appearance, what he's saying, and where you are. He's revealed himself as part of the Capitol and now you can no longer watch him with kind, accepting eyes. The look you're giving him is almost enough to make him wish he could have presented this differently.

Coriolanus extends an arm, the carefully chosen pure white rose an olive branch. You blink, eyebrows drawing together before you slowly reach out and take the flower by its stem. Your fingertips brush against his own, the warmth of your skin is so shocking he has to remind himself not to flinch.

"A mentor?" You repeat the word like your only reason for doing so is to try out the foreign word on your tongue. "Does everyone get one or am I just lucky?" You look down at the rose you're now holding. "Or has the rumor that I'm a rebellion trick spread to the Capitol?"

The last question genuinely surprises him. It shouldn't, there had been some talk about why anyone from a poor district would ever choose to go into the games. The way you and the girl you saved reacted to each other could have been staged...but Coriolanus didn't think it was enough to warrant genuine rumors. Anyone that had looked at your eyes and seen the fear in them would have known that it was sacrifice. Is sacrifice. That girl means the world to you.

"No," he starts slowly, "No, everyone gets one and no one here has any preconceptions about you."

You raise your eyebrows, making it clear that you don't believe him. No preconceptions had been a strong way to phrase things, but the urge to assure you had taken over with no warning. You then look away, glancing around to take in your surroundings.

"Then why isn't there..." You trail off, your gaze landing firmly on him. "You're not supposed to be here."

He blinks. For the first time, it feels like you're truly looking at him. His own susceptibility to your wide eyes turns his stomach. You're the one that should feel like something up for display under his stare. "No, I'm not."

The admission forces the edge of your lips to pull upwards. "Alright," you hum, "So what does my mentor do for me besides bring me roses?"

"I do my best to take care of you."

For a second, all you do is stare. He's surprised you. The realization brings him more relief than it should. "The girl who you volunteered for..."

You tilt your head downwards, hiding your expression as your fingers carefully toy with the exterior of the soft petals. "My cousin," the explanation is low, cautious, "But we uh--we're more like sisters."

An in that he doesn't even have to work for. "I understand that." You look up, not bothering to hide your confusion. Maybe you weren't expecting something so human to come out. Maybe human works for you. "During the war, we took care of each other...and then after our parents passed, we were left in the care of our grandmother."

The silence that follows is tight, straining against the sympathies you're not willing to extend to someone like him. Your lips part, and Coriolanus is disgusted by the part of him that's curious about what's going to come next.

You're pushed back with no warning. His attention snaps towards the peacekeeper who is shoving against your shoulder with more force than necessary.

"Excuse--" No reaction, no response as another peacekeeper grabs your arm. "Excuse me, I'm her--" You're being dragged away in order to be packed into another vehicle of transportation with the rest of them.

Coriolanus stays near, doing his best to never lose sight of you in the chaos. A tribute breaks free from the hold of the peacekeepers and launches his body forward. An ill thought out escape attempt. The distraction is all Coriolanus needs. This is his chance to go after you, to cement a connection that will guarantee cooperation.

It's not the distraction that gets him to move or even thoughts of the Plinth prize, it's the final flash of angel white fabric as its forced back into darkness. He rushes forward before he can overthink, entering the vehicle just as the doors shut.

----

i think i might make a part 2!!

[rainy-weather-supremacy]

My thoughts/ideas on a TMA musical

(If anyone wants to help me with this it would be apprechiated 😭😭)

(Under the cut because it's kinda long)

Act I: Introduction, Prentiss & Shenanigans A

Act II: Shenanigans B; Unknowing & Shenanigans C

Act III: Door and Eyepocalypse

TMA important plot points

Act I

Jon hates Martin

Bicon Tim!! 💖💜💙

Prentiss

Michael (Sasha & Helen)

Not!Sasha

Rip Gertrude

Paranoia

Homophobic vase

Table

Leitner

Wanted :(

Georgie & Admiral

Jude

Mike & Daisy

Elias is evil???? 😱😱😱

Act II

Kidnapping

Helen

Jon & Tim trauma 😃👍🏽

Unknowing

Rip Daisy

Zzzzz

Melanie 🔪

Non-Human

Bone 🦴

Oh hey Daisy! :D

🔪��� Melanie uhoh

Lukas & lonely

Jmart (Cows)

Akt III

Eyepocalypse

Kicking the asses of various Avatars

Martin 😶‍🌫️😭

Rip Daisy 2 electrical boogaloo

Salesa

Tower

Annabelle (But musical plot)

Rip boys 😭🥲😔🫡

Stuff

Peter only shows up at the end when he has to, other than that he is either not there or poorly hidden. He doesnt want people to see him.

Annabelles plan is for a musical instead

Jon feeds on the applause after a number

Not!Sasha always loudly declares to the audience that she is Sasha and that the other actor is…. Taking a break. :)

Jon and Tim sing about their childhood trauma (Daisy: I killed a man when I was eleven. Jon and Tim: 😟 [End song]) 

Unknowing is Nikolas villain song

Worm song

Statements are short songs Jon/Statement givers burst out into

Elias interruping Jon‘s song abt how he is finally happy (😭) and forcing him to sing a duet with him in mag 160

Annabelles evil song sounds like she's a grade 2 teacher and explaining why pandas are bears or whatever. Yeah that but she keeps starting out easy and then gets too complicated quickly so she has to start again

Distortion pops out of random doors that led to entirely different places just before and after

Helen slams the door into Michaels face when she enters and he dies(™️)

The 'crawls and chokes and blinds and falls' part is a rap

Helen falls through the trap door floor when she dies (maybe?)

Toothrotting Jmart fluff. I can do what I wnat tbis is my musical

Sad ending

One or more person sees the audience (Elias; Anabelle; Jon (as the pupil); Not!Sasha; Helen; More?)

While Jon is in a coma, calm music plays. There is screaming in the background and Melanie running around with knifes, first being chased by something and then chasing something. Both she and the thing leave through Helens door, who waves to the audience and then closes the door in a cool way

Mag 100 is a short comedic intermission you only understand 1/5 of

Every time Jon enters the stage after leaving, he is in slightly worse condition

I open the door immediately before the 2. pause bc big applause (When he says it the doors open for the break?)

Paranoid Jon song: I see you

End of S4 song: I see you (Reprise) [I know who you are / I'll find you out] vs [I know who you are / I'll find you and I'll get you out]

All the fears have a specific instrument assigned to them

Before the first pause, Elias is alone on stage for a moment, turns to the audience and bows. With the applause, a eye appears on/over him by projector

Spotlight as a symbolisation of the eye, something that might be seen as a blessing but becomes a curse if unwanted. It turns on during statements etc and in the tunnels, it's a flashlight instead because they are illuminating themselfes. You walk and the light that shows where you are follows. Running from the spotlight.

Beginning, to audience: You are an eye. Watching over the people if the world for ages yet, there are a few people that stand out to you. Here's one that will become important to you soon. (Cue curtain open to reveal Jon at his desk going 'one, two, one, two, test, test'.)

Ending, to audience: You are an eye. You have watched this world for a long time, but now, it's time to go… somewhere else. (Before bows)

S4 Lonely song called 'no one but you' where Perter is like 'you have no one but you' and Martin agrees and sings along but when Peter is gone he thinks of Jon and sings it in a way that 'you' is Jon like "I have no one but you".

The people who get smited (smitten?) see the audience and are horrified

When people get smitten, a bright spotlight focuses on them and a soft green one on Jon

Akt I

Beginning, first statement (Maybe it's only kind of a rhyme, not a full-on song yet)

More statements & Introduction to the Archival assistants (Martin is introduced first so that he's absent for the rest of the song) (I'm so smart) (Here we can probably also establish that Jon hates him and that Tim is bi?) (Also Melanie shows up for the first time)

-> What about combining those first two points and making like. An archiving song 🤔

Martin storms in with the worms in a jar (That in one scene, cut to a person going "youre saying that… [plot]?")

Sasha meets Michael and Jon first Helen, then Michael as well (A kind of spiral song)

Attack von Prentiss (Worm song)

Sasha gets killed & replaced (Maybe do something meta with the actors here, or just someone that looks completely different shows up wearing a 'the real sasha james' shirt?)

Martin finds Gertrude's corpse, notices the alarm is over and Jane is defeated. Does kind of a weak 'oh… I- I guess it's over' and stumbles away

They meet back up in bandages, not!Sasha is like "YES IT'S ME! SASHA!!!"

Jon's talking to the tape recorder like 'Idk I feel like somethings's wrong' and stalks on the archival assistants who are just like. Drinking tea. Talking. Doing work (or not). Meanwhile Sasha is in the background doing the most obvious and sus shit which he always just barely misses

Jon concludes that someone wants to kill him and sings abt it (I see you)

The song has an interruption with the others coming in for the intervention (And he only gets more paranoid after)

1 or 2 more statements are being read out during the song (or just the title/s said?)

He realizes that it's not Sasha by listening to a tape. In it, on the other side of the stage, Sasha and Tim are talking.  Not!Sasha tries to use her body to stop the audience from seeing this, but fails bc thats not really possible (walks around back and forth waving her arms so she doesn't acually block it for someone the whole time y'know?)

He says a final time "I see you" and the song ends

Jon destroy the table, Not!Sasha and Michael show up

Leitner uses the book to conjure up magical spirits (stage crew) and move the set so u cant see Not!Sasha anymore, which makes her mad but oh well

He starts to explain but mid-song Jon 'goes outside' and Elias comes in, finishes the song in an EVIL (😨) way and turns to the audience, puts a finger to his lips and leaves

Jon comes back and is like 'o shit' and runs away off-stage

Daisy and Basira come by to interrogate everyone (Show here Jon is wanted by police)

He stays at Georgies, who is cool, and pets the admiral

Jon sings a statement abt how Jude is dangerous and decides to pay her a visit. What could go wrong?? He leaves.

Melanie gets hired (Mention that she got shot by a ghost)

Jon's back from Jude and he has a burnt hand but is also on his way to Mike Crew- Surely he cant fuck this one up!

He visits Mike, fucks it up

Daisy kills Mike (rip) and wants to kill Jon but Basira is like wtf and stops her murder song before she can (Something like Get away with this?)

They all confront Elias an he is actually…. E V I L ?!???!!?? 😱😨🤯

Akt II

(First MAG 100?)

For the kidnapping, probably start with him kidnapped and then Michael shows up and is like "Wow Archivist u fucked up I cant believe EVIL SKIN STEALING DOLLS KIDNAPPED YOU AND WANT TO [plot]"

Helen shows up and slams Michaels door in his face and is like 'cmon lets go'

We need to stop the unknowing guys

Tim confronts Jon (Do not ask me what this means all I know is that here we establish they have beef)

Jon & Tim trauma song

They somehow find dynamite. Maybe one more short statement here as well?

They go to the wax museum and there is talking

Nikola villain song (aka unknowing) that ends with Tim being smug and also exploding. During the song there is a brief segment to what each of the characters is going through

The Martin also has to be somewhere here 🔥📃

Jon is in a coma and the Melanie/Weird stuff chase scene

Oliver comes by and he wakes up

They still dont like him

Oh so Martin is working for Mr. Evil man and also Tim and Daisy are dead?!

Statements

(Idk what happens here? Stuff ig???)

Melanie operation (Gone wrong‼️)

Jon realizes he's not really human anymore, which he kind of knew but still he comes to the conclusion that it sucks and therefore so does he (bestie please)

The coffin is delivered

He goes straight into Helens hallways and comes back out with a rib. While he's gone, Martin passes by briefly and we see how lonely he is.

Jon goes into the coffin and finds Daisy which is a song for sure

They come back out and Basira and Daisy are like 🫂

The Dark??

Jon finds out how to leave

Lets gouge our eyes out scene

Melanie gets her eyes' ass and goes away to kiss Georgie (Shes just like "guess ill go get rid of my eyes & kiss my girlfriend byyyeee")

Statement that is interrupted/just after it the hunters come and Jon is like "oh no the hunters from my trip to america" basira/daisy: "when were you in amerika???" Jon: "That time I came home and you said I smelled like guns. Anyways panik."

Daisy goes wolf mode very dramatically after Jon runs off stage to find martin

Elias and Peter (who we finally really ses) reveal the evil plan to Martin who is like "how about no" and then tries to stab Peter (or something like that idk) but there is fog and he is gone

Jon storms in like "MAHTIN!"

The lonely scene with the song

They are in a nice house and it's cool and fluffy

Martin leaves for milk and cows

Jon sings abt how he's finally happy and Elias gets his smug bastard ass in there and forces him to dance along and sing a duet and to fucking rap oh my god this is a crime (After all this time)

It ends with "I- OPEN- THE- DOOR!" as all the door out of the room open

Akt III

Jon goes into a song about the safehouse but Tim and Sasha sing a duet in the background 

They decide to leave

Helen shows up like the bothersome creature (/aff) she is

They meet the Not!Them

Smiting song, which is mostly action-packed but there's four parts and the third is MAG 165 (Not!Them - Jude - Lonely house - Jared)

Hunt song starting with Trevor and ending with Daisys death

Uptown house (Either off-stage or Salesa starts trying to sing a song but they faint and he complains when the lights go out)

Martin sings a duet with himself 

Jon kills real estate agent, which starts off as a statement but that one woman derails it

Short song abt the Eye & London

Song abt and/or by WTG about their cult where they 1) love each other and 2) deny being prophets whil the cultists sing a chorus about how great the prophets are

Jmart visit Jonah & Jon sings about how he could make things better in his place and gets more & more enthusiastic until Martin interrupts him and they fight (through song?), ending with Martin storming away

Jon sings abt how he knows what's best / Annabelle sings to Martin that she can show him what's best

Jon notices that Martin is gone and goes after him in a boat. (While he's rowing, Fight Song starts going "like a small boat… on the ocean….." and then Basira shows up and climbs in his boat and stops the song (shoots the speaker?) /hj)

Annabelle villain song in which she also explains the rift ("You've grabbed something/someone's attention" while looking directly at the audience. Jon, Martin & Basira follow her gaze but don't see anything) + for sure do the "You have no idea who's listening/watching, do you?"

They talk about what to do & vote that they'll follow Annabelles plan, much to Jons distress. (Make what they want to do very clear here)

Jon goes up, song where he gets his revenge (& ascends)

When he becomes the pupil and the song stops, Jon really looks around and sees the audience & goes kind of "What… Who- Who…? O-Oh. Oh." and stares at them before getting distracted by Martin arriving, who can't see them

Martin arrives and they talk and find what they have to do

Short but bitter-sweet last song together

Ending

Bows

[munson-blurbs]

BUUUG oh my god i also watched wicked last weekend and i literally have not moved on 😭 i haven’t listened to ANYTHING else aside from the soundtrack and it got me thinking.............theater girlie reader performing i’m not that girl and absolutely nailing the song because she’s actually pining over eddie 🥲 (i also relate to the song because jonathan bailey isn’t in love with me lmao)

Did somebody say...Wicked and pining? I'm in.

Warnings: idiots in love, dual POV, light angst, mutual pining, happily ever after, I don't know what year this takes place in because Wicked opened in 2003 but there's nothing indicating modern!Eddie

WC: 3.5k

Divider credit to @strangergraphics

It wasn’t love at first sight for Eddie. It was love at first sound. 

He was cleaning up after Hellfire on a rainy Friday afternoon, determined to race home and check the sofa cushions for change so he could order a pizza. If all else failed, he could always dip into his primary income source, kept locked tight in his lunchbox. 

Hellfire Club continued to be the best part of his week, as it had been since he’d joined six years ago as a gawky freshman, but there was something comforting about the stillness after everyone else had left. Sometimes Eddie didn’t get that privilege—especially when he was tasked with giving Henderson a ride home. The kid wouldn’t shut up if his life depended on it. But today, he reveled in the peace while he placed the game pieces back in their box. 

He barely registered the small commotion in the adjoining auditorium as you took the stage and began your vocal warmups. You couldn’t take any chances of straining your voice; not when your years of hard work and dedication to the Drama Club finally paid off. 

You trilled to the top of your register before taking it back down, repeating it over and over until you felt ready to practice. Ready to become Elphaba Thropp. 

You were wholly unaware that Eddie Munson stood just on the other side of the wall, whistling a Black Sabbath song under his breath. Maybe that was good, considering your ridiculous crush on him. Like he’d ever notice you—a theatre nerd who never stepped out of line. You certainly weren’t one of the cheerleaders he constantly tried to impress. 

There was no mistaking the way he blushed and stammered around Chrissy Cunningham, playing with a few strands of his curls as he shamelessly flirted with her. You could deny that the sight of it all turned your stomach, but everyone and their mother would know it was a lie. 

A relationship—even a friendship—between you and Eddie would never manifest naturally. You didn’t have many classes together, and it wasn’t like he showed up to them anyway. Rumor had it that he and Chrissy only started talking because she bought weed from him, but the idea of meeting up with him in the woods, alone, overwhelmed you. And Eddie Munson definitely didn’t frequent the school plays. 

You thought about this now, the way you would never measure up to the girls he wanted to be with. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply and let the emotions course through you. 

Frustration—towards yourself for harboring a crush on someone so unattainable. 

Envy—of Chrissy Cunningham, who happened to be playing Galinda, and the other cheerleaders who didn’t even have to try to get his attention. 

Dejection—because though Eddie had never outright rejected you, each day that you continued slipping under his radar twisted your heart more. 

You took it all and put it into the song. 

Hands touch, eyes meet Sudden silence, sudden heat Hearts leap in a giddy whirl He could be that boy But I’m not that girl 

Eddie was deciding whether to splurge for the meat-lovers pizza or stick with just pepperoni when he heard the voice of an angel coming from next door. 

Don’t dream too far Don’t lose sight of who you are Don’t remember that rush of joy He could be that boy I’m not that girl

His ears pricked up. Who was that? He’d been at this school for six years, and he thought he knew everybody. 

He rushed over to the adjacent wall, body moving faster than his brain. One sneakered foot caught on the leg of his Dungeon Master throne, sending him tumbling to the ground. In a moment of desperation, Eddie grabbed for the closest object in his vicinity—a mannequin, clad in a Captain Hook costume from last semester’s production of Peter Pan. It came tumbling down along with him, both hitting the ground with an unmistakable thump. 

The voice stopped singing mid-verse. 

“Shit,” Eddie grumbled, picking himself up and brushing the dust off of his ripped jeans. He waited for a moment, then another, in hopes that the song would resume. 

But there was only silence. Once cherished, but now a punishment for his own clumsiness. 

I should go over and apologize. He dismissed the idea almost as soon as it came. Except…what if it was just a coincidence? What if she didn’t hear any of that? I’ll look like a total moron. 

Instead, Eddie continued cleaning up, hoping the pink flush staining his cheeks would fade by the time he left school. 

Every so often we long to steal  To the land of—

A crash cut you off, your gaze flicking from the pretend audience to the stage door. Who was sticking around school on a Friday afternoon?

I should make sure they’re okay. 

You started towards the door, stopping in your tracks when a sinking thought washed over you. What if the person had made noise purposely so I’d stop singing? What if I check on them and they tell me that I suck? I’ll look pathetic. 

Fighting back a cringe at the notion of being humiliated, you scooped up your backpack and hurried out of the auditorium. 

Practice would have to wait until Monday. 

Eddie tried to hide his newfound fascination with the mystery girl who sang her way into his heart. Week after week, he insisted on cleaning up after Hellfire alone on the off chance he’d hear her rehearsing. 

But after that first time, there was nothing. Not a single note. Sure, other people used the auditorium to practice, but none of them were her. 

It was a rainy Friday when she finally returned. The weather—torrential storms all day—meant that Dustin would not be walking home. He begged Eddie to drive him, insisting that if his mom picked him up, she would thoroughly humiliate him. 

Having met Claudia Henderson on multiple occasions, Eddie could attest to that statement’s truthfulness. 

And while having Dustin around to clean up after Hellfire wasn’t a bad thing, he filled the room with incessant chatter and expected Eddie to respond. 

Eddie, however, was in a world of his own, losing himself in the somber lyrics and trying to tune out whatever the freshman was blathering on about. 

Every so often we long to steal  To the land of what-might-have-been 

“And then her dad took away her computer! All because she helped me change one measly grade!”

But that doesn't soften the ache we feel  When reality sets back in

“I mean, it’s completely unfair. Her siblings are batshit crazy and he can’t be bothered to care. But Suzie lies, probably for the first time in her life—”

“Henderson, can you just shut up for two seconds?!” Eddie hissed through clenched teeth, his nostrils flaring. His gaze softened slightly when he saw the shock and hurt on his friend’s face. “Sorry, man, I’m just…”

“Christ,” Dustin scoffed, regaining his composure. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Eddie cinched the dice drawstring bag closed, not making eye contact with Dustin. “Nothing. Just tired. Long week,” he added lamely. 

Blithe smile, lithe limb  She who's winsome, she wins him  Gold hair with a gentle curl  That's the girl he chose  And Heaven knows  I'm not that girl

Dustin noticed the way a smile tugged at the corners of Eddie’s scowl. A knowing grin spread across his face. 

“Why, Mr. Eddie. Look at you,” he said, donning a posh accent. “You’re lovesick.”

“W-What?” Eddie sputtered. 

Dustin rolled his eyes. “It’s a play on a quote from Wicked.” When the older boy kept his nose wrinkled in confusion, he continued with a huff. “Wicked. That’s the show the Drama Club is doing. That’s where the song is from.”

“Oh.” Eddie shook his head. “Yeah, it’s a, uh, a nice song.”

He fidgeted with his rings, spinning the skull around his finger until perspiration built up beneath the band. 

“Maybe we should see the show.” Dustin hoisted himself up onto the table, letting his legs dangle. “Y’know, actually watch your lady love on stage rather than secretly creep on her.”

“First of all,” Eddie pointed a finger at him, “she is not my ‘lady love.’ I don’t even know who she is. For all I know, it’s Jason Carver with a killer falsetto.”

The notion, while ridiculous, was the only way he could stifle the butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the term ‘lady love.’

“A possibility. Or,” Dustin countered, “she’s the love of your life, waiting just beyond this pesky wall for you to sweep her off of her talented feet.”

To his credit, Eddie considered the idea for a full second before shaking his head. Metalhead, music snob Eddie Munson watching the school musical? If anyone saw him there, he’d never live it down. 

Dustin, however, was relentless. The boy had a litany of tricks up his Weird Al shirtsleeve. 

“Well, I’m gonna go. My friend Robin is in the band. I wonder who else will be there?” He tapped his finger against his chin, feigning ponderance. “Oh, that’s right! Steve Harrington. You remember Steve, right? Great hair, great with the ladies…maybe he’ll even talk to your ‘friend.’”

Eddie’s blood boiled in his veins. Harrington showing up and being your knight in shining armor, parading around town with you on his arm—

“Fine. I’ll go.” Eddie grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “But you keep that jockstrap with a toupee away from her, got it?”

“Alright, alright. Jeez.” Dustin put his hands up in surrender. “No need to be so testy, Nessarose.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what that meant, but he had a feeling he was about to find out. 

Opening night. 

You didn’t allow yourself to peek out behind the stage curtain for fear of someone seeing you in your green makeup, but if the loud chatter emanating from the audience was any indication, it seemed to be a full house. 

Fred Benson came backstage a few moments later, wearing his stage manager headset and a huge grin. “We’re sold out!” He waited for the cheering from your fellow cast-mates to die down before announcing: “Places in five.”

Five minutes. Five measly minutes until you became Elphaba Thropp, the Wicked Witch of the West. 

And if that wasn’t enough to send nerves spiraling through you, the next sentence you overheard certainly did:

“Eddie Munson is here?!”

No. No, no, no.

“Are you serious? I thought he only listened to shit that makes your ears bleed.”

Whatever stage fright you’d already been battling paled in comparison to what you currently felt. Eddie Munson, the man who unknowingly served as your muse for unrequited love, was sitting in the audience.

When Chrissy Cunningham laughed behind you, it all became clear. He was here for her. He wanted to watch her flit across the stage, tossing her blonde hair and waving a magic wand. 

Well, at least you’d barely have to act when Galinda got the man Elphaba pined after.

Eddie sat straight up in his seat when the lights dimmed, clutching the bouquet of roses close to his lap. He didn’t want to risk putting them on the floor and stepping on them, so he did his best to hold them in place without constantly crinkling the cellophane.

They weren’t anything special–he’d gotten them from the refrigerated display case at Bradley’s Big Buy–but he hoped they were enough.

Chrissy came onstage first, wearing a poofy baby blue ball gown and a sparkling tiara. Eddie’s stomach flipped. Was Chrissy the girl he’d heard singing? No, she couldn’t have been. Her voice sounded nothing like the mystery girl. Chrissy’s voice was light and airy, like a princess. The other voice had a slight heaviness to it, like it held some pain.

So…not Chrissy. Good to know, but that still left him with more questions than answers.

He clapped when the audience clapped, pretending to focus on the plot while actually scouring the stage for clues. Maybe she was one of the chorus members; that would definitely make it more difficult to pick her out…

Resignedly, he sat back, summoning every ounce of music training he’d acquired over the years to pick out the sound of her voice among the crowd. 

Nothing. 

“This is bull—” he started to grumble to Dustin, but then his gaze fell upon someone…green. Even covered head-to-toe in pure stage makeup, her beauty shone through. 

Eddie just sat there, fully entranced. He didn’t want to allow himself to believe that this was the girl—because if she wasn’t the one he’d been obsessing over, then he was totally screwed. 

Please, he silently prayed, please let this be her. 

Please, you silently prayed, don’t let Eddie be here. 

Though you willed yourself to keep your eyes on that dark spot in the back of the auditorium, you couldn’t help but scan the audience for him. 

And there he was, sitting between Steve Harrington and one of the freshmen who followed him around the school like a little sheep. He had a dopey grin on his face and roses in his lap. 

Roses, you realized, that he’d present to Chrissy as he held her and congratulated her on an incredible performance—

Focus. You shedded your own skin at the stage door and took on Elphaba’s green hue, and you needed to act like her, not you. And her first song was upbeat and hopeful. Heartbrokenness would have to wait. 

She sang. After what seemed like endless dialogue between her and the teacher—Ms. Horrible? He couldn’t remember, nor did he particularly care—she sang. 

And from that first note, Eddie knew. 

It’s her. 

He almost didn’t want to believe it. He wouldn’t allow himself to believe it, because how could someone be so beautiful and talented? No, this must be someone who sounded similar, but the girl who sang that melancholy song would be someone else. Someone he didn’t feel wholly inadequate when he approached her. 

“Shh!” Someone hissed behind him. Only then did he realize that he was flexing his hand around the rose stems, the cellophane crackling under his tight grasp. 

Eddie muttered an apology, never taking his eyes off of the stage. God, she was breathtaking. He could practically hear her calling his name:

Eddie…Eddie…

“Eddie!” Steve’s annoyed voice snapped Eddie out of his stupor. “Move your foot, man!”

Eddie looked down to see that he was sitting at the edge of his seat, legs spread far enough to nudge Steve’s sneaker with his own. He quickly composed himself, hoping the dark auditorium masked his pink cheeks. 

“What the hell is his deal?” Steve whispered to Dustin. 

The younger boy shrugged. “Pretty sure he’s in love with the girl who plays the witch. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Eddie barely heard the exchange, too wrapped up in the way the notes seem to float from Elphaba’s lips, ethereal in nature. Normally when he listened to showtunes—which wasn’t very often, but his uncle was partial to his Annie Get Your Gun record—he would pass the time thinking about how he could rearrange the song to fit a more metal vibe. 

But for the first time in a long time, metal is the last thing on his mind. He wants to know more of Elphaba’s story, how she went from a shy college student to one of the most well-known villains in cinematic history. The rest of the world had gone quiet, like a background noise he easily ignored. 

The few scenes without Elphaba were torturous enough, but Eddie soon realized that there was something even worse than that. Someone, actually. 

Fiyero Tigelaar. 

He watched the man in a makeshift Shiz University clutching the stuffed lion toy, already sensing some sort of romantic tension between him and Elphaba. There was no denying the way Eddie’s body tensed when a green hand rested on the man’s cheek, so loving and tender.

As if sensing his friend’s inner turmoil, Dustin turned slightly and whispered, “don’t worry. Rumor has it that he’s more into Boq, if you catch my drift.”

That information allowed Eddie to relax a little, but only for a moment before Elphaba began singing again.

Hands touch, eyes meet Sudden silence, sudden heat

“That’s the song,” Dustin announced to Steve.

Steve nodded, offering a smirk. “So that must be the girl.”

Body wrought with emotion, you could only hope you could stave off the tears until you got offstage. It would be almost impossible to cry and remain on-key, especially given just how low you–not Elphaba–truly felt.

Blithe smile, lithe limb  She who's winsome, she wins him  Gold hair with a gentle curl  That's the girl he chose  And Heaven knows  I'm not that girl

You could get through this. It was no secret that you weren’t Eddie’s type. The girl he chose would be Chrissy Cunningham or someone like her, not the dorky theatre girl who only came out of her shell while performing.

Don't wish, don't start 

Wishing only wounds the heart  I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl  There's a girl I know  He loves her so  I'm not that girl

No, you were definitely not that girl. That girl was backstage, touching up her makeup and probably giggling about the flowers she’d receive from her metalhead crush.

The applause might have been thunderous; it might have been completely silent. You didn’t know. All you could think about was getting off the stage before you got another glimpse of Eddie and the stupid bouquet he was giving to Chrissy. 

The rest of the show was spectacular. Maybe you were a bit biased, considering you were the lead, but it couldn’t have gone any better if you’d tried. You’d even managed to stay in character, keeping your focus on your scene partners rather than the man in the audience who held your heart.

You couldn’t wash off the green makeup fast enough, an arduous process that your castmates thankfully expedited with a plethora of baby wipes and makeup remover. Despite everyone’s best efforts, your face and hands remained tinged with a green hue. You supposed you’d look like that for a few days after the show closed. 

“Excuse me?”

You turned around, still in costume, to see Eddie Munson now standing before you. The two of you were alone, the rest of the cast having cleaned up before you did.

“I think Chrissy’s with her friends,” you blurted out. 

“Oh. Cool.” Confusion creased his brows for a second before he continued. “You did, um, an amazing job tonight. Seriously, I was just…wow. I never knew being anti-establishment could sound so beautiful.”

You smiled, fiddling with a stray black thread on your dress. “Thanks. Elphaba really is a badass.”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s eyes flicked over your face. He noticed you looking at the flowers in his arms. “Oh, shit–these are for you. I hope you like them and you’re not, like, allergic or anything.” He shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Maybe I should’ve gotten poppies instead, since, y’know…that was Elphaba’s thing.”

“I love them!” Too enthusiastic. Well, at least you didn’t say you loved him. “You didn’t have to get me anything, though. I’m just glad you liked the show.” Timidly, you admitted, “I’m kind of surprised to see you at the school musical, honestly.”

He scratched at the back of his neck. “Can I level with you for a sec?” When you nodded, he sighed. “I didn’t even know the school was doing a musical. I’m only here because I heard you practicing from the Hellfire room, and my friend told me about the show.”

You froze. Did you hear him correctly? Eddie was here because of you? Because he wanted to meet you?

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so green,” he added with a nervous laugh.

You quirked up an eyebrow. “You weren’t expecting the Wicked Witch of the West to be green? Please tell me you’ve seen The Wizard of Oz.”

“Of course I have! It’s a classic. I just didn’t know what Wicked was about.” He raked a hand through his curls. “Anyway, if you’re not busy tonight, I was hoping you might want to hang out? Maybe go to Benny’s and split some cheese fries?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Y-Yeah! I love fries. And cheese.” You cleared your throat, trying to ward off the embarrassment. “Let me just get out of this costume and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Cool. I’ll go tell my friends to fuck off or whatever.” Eddie smiled, shaking his hair out of his beautiful brown eyes. He started towards the door before half-turning to add,

“And, by the way, you look beautiful even when you’re green.”

--