#when he stands there in awe at the crowd and the applause

[seeinganewlight]

i have never felt more genuine love and appreciation for fans than i did on friday night at niall's show. he thanked the fans so many times, and you could feel how much he truly meant it. he's the sweetest human and he deserves all the good things in the world. we really did make the right guy famous

[hemmingsleclerc]

Charles x reader where we’re going on our Renaissance world tour and our daughter comes out on stage with us (like blue Ivy). Charles + Leclerc family’s reactions and the grids reactions maybe??

World Tour┃charles leclerc

pairing(s): charles leclerc x singer!fem!reader

a/n: I LOVED THIS IDEA OMG!!! Hope u like it 💕💕

𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ ›

‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖

The lights in the sold-out stadium went out and the crowd noise grew louder as the opening chords of the song echoed through the arena. Charles sat in the VIP section, a proud smile on his face as he watched his wife take the stage. Next to him were his mother and brothers, as well as his closest friends, including Lando, Max, Daniel, Oscar with his girlfriend Lily, George with Carmen, Pierre with Kika, and Lewis.

Y/n's voice filled the stadium, moving everyone present. Halfway through the concert, a spotlight suddenly illuminated a small figure walking towards the stage. It was Jules, their daughter, dressed in a mini version of her mother's outfit that night.

Lando gasped and clutched his chest dramatically. "I think I'm going to faint," he whispered loudly, making the others laugh.

Daniel jumped from his seat, raising his arms in the air. "Jules! No way!" he yelled as he began to jump with joy.

Max had tears in his eyes. He dried them quickly, not wanting anyone to see them, but he couldn't help the wide smile that spread across his face. "She's amazing," he said softly, his voice filled with awe as he clutched his head. As the music intensified, Max began to sing and dance, performing the choreography to perfection. "I've never practiced this," he muttered under his breath, although everyone knew he had been doing it for the past two weeks.

Oscar leaned forward, his eyes wide with amazement. "She's amazing," he commented, clearly impressed as he smiled big.

Lily nodded, her eyes shining. "She is a star in the making" she said enjoying the concert too much, as she was a big fan of Y/n.

George was standing, clapping to the beat. "This is amazing! Watch her dance!" Carmen, next to him, was just as cheerful, loudly cheering for Jules.

Pierre put his arm around Kika and they both began to dance together. "Jules is naturally talented," Kika said, her voice full of admiration and emotion. The two began shouting at the top of their lungs in support of Jules, his voices almost drowned out by the cheers of the crowd.

Lewis recorded the moment on his phone, capturing every second. "This is going to be iconic," he said, already planning to send the video to Jules later.

When Jules began to dance alongside her mother, the audience erupted in cheers. The energy in the stadium was incredible. Charles couldn't contain his emotions. He stood up and joined the rest of the drivers as they sang. His heart filled with pride as he watched her daughter share the stage with the same grace and confidence as his beautiful wife.

Lando, now fully recovered from his initial shock, began to dance to the music, his movements exaggerated. "This is the best concert ever!" He declared, spinning around and nearly knocking Max over to the floor.

Max, despite his earlier tears, was now dancing out of pure joy. "I'm having the best time of my life!" he shouted over the music, following the choreography perfectly.

Daniel continued cheering loudly, his voice hoarse but his emotion intact. "Jules, you're amazing, I'm your fan!"

The concert continued with Jules and Y/n performing a duet. As the final notes of the song faded, the crowd erupted in applause. Jules and Y/n bowed as they said goodbye as confetti exploded from the sky and the rest of the dancers joined in to say goodbye.

Charles, almost on the verge of losing his voice, shouted proudly of his wife and daughter.

As the concert came to an end, Charles and his friends headed backstage to congratulate Y/n and Jules. The reunion was filled with laughter, hugs, and a few more tears as everyone celebrated the night.

Charles hugged Jules tightly and lifted her off the ground. "You were amazing, my little star."

Jules laughed and her eyes shone with happiness. "Did you like it, dad?"

''I adored it'' he said while with her other arm he hugged Y/n around her waist to give her a kiss.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 17

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: Suicide character.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Author Note: After this, you will hate Steve more.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Historic Victory! Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes Elected with Record-Breaking Votes."

You stood among the crowd in awe, feeling the gravity of the moment as Bucky stepped up first to take his oath. His right hand rested on the Bible, and his voice was steady, resonating across the packed hall and through the media broadcasted nationwide.

“I, James Buchanan Barnes, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, and that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion.”

He glanced at you briefly, pride mingling with disbelief in his eyes as he finished, “I pledge to faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter, so help me God.”

It was almost surreal, watching Bucky stand here, on the cusp of history. You could hardly believe it. He had done it; he was now the Vice President of the United States.

Then came Steve’s turn. He took his oath with an unwavering focus, his voice rich with conviction:

“I, Steven Grant Rogers, do solemnly swear to faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

As Steve finished his oath, the crowd erupted into applause. He stepped forward, eyes fierce with resolve, and gave his inaugural speech. "Today, we embark on a new journey,” he began, his words confident and calculated. “I promise to carve out every rotten part to make this country stronger and more flourishing than ever.” The crowd cheered wildly, the energy of the historic day surging through the masses.

Standing close to Bucky, you leaned toward him and whispered, “I hate him.”

He gave a small, amused smirk, clearing his throat as he pulled you closer, his arm draping protectively over your shoulder. “Stay calm, dear,” he whispered back. “We don’t want your bitter expression captured for posterity.” He pressed his hand gently against your back as you both moved through the crowd.

Across the room, Peggy watched the two of you, noting the way Bucky’s hand never left yours, even when he greeted others. The warmth and easy familiarity between you were evident to all. Peggy, however, stood isolated beside Steve, even as every camera focused on them as the new First Couple. She was now the First Lady, yet she felt utterly invisible.

Because in Steve's eyes, he only looked for Hazel. She remembered the disappointment on his face when he learned that the woman and the little boy were not joining him for the inauguration.

Then Caroline Barnes and her husband Julius approached her, their expressions triumphant. Caroline, with a rare, large smile, was the first to speak. “Congratulations, Peggy,” she said, her tone sweet yet cold.

She’d been Peggy’s confidante for years—long before the politics, the campaigns, and all the layers of public life that followed. They shared memories that went back to the days when they were just two young women navigating life and love, laughing over coffee and late-night conversations.

You couldn’t help but notice Caroline’s rare smile as she looked at you next, her eyes flashing with satisfaction. The silent message was clear: you had fulfilled your promise, standing beside her son as the Vice President’s wife.

Bucky, noticing her cold glare toward you, leaned in and murmured, “Seems like you’ve won her over.”

Just then, Natasha, a familiar figure in her sleek Secret Service uniform, approached you both. Her tone was clipped and professional. “The President would like to see you,” she said, giving you a pointed look.

You felt Bucky tense slightly beside you. As you moved to follow Natasha, Bucky instinctively stepped forward too.

“Alone,” Natasha added, her gaze shifting to Bucky.

You exchanged a confused look with him, both of you uncertain as to why you were being called without him. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. With one last glance, you followed Natasha toward the Oval Office.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The Oval Office was imposing, vast and elegant. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room, yet the weight of history and power was palpable in every corner. The walls were lined with portraits of past leaders, and every polished surface seemed to reflect Steve’s ascendant status. He stood before the massive, iconic desk, hands clasped behind his back, exuding an air of unyielding authority. In this space, he looked like a man who could command nations—a conqueror with the world at his feet.

As you entered, Steve turned, offering you a polished smile that held no warmth. “I imagine you’re wondering why I wanted you here alone,” he said, voice smooth yet laced with an edge that left no room for misinterpretation.

Your thoughts were racing. Being in this room with him—Steve Rogers, the man who had climbed to the highest seat of power while leaving a wake of destruction in his path—felt surreal. You could feel the walls closing in, every inch of the Oval Office amplifying the cold reality of his ambition.

Steve raised a single finger, his tone shifting to one of playful scorn. "Not once did you congratulate me." He let the silence hang, watching you. "I know why. You blame me for your friend’s death.”

Your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms as his accusation hit you. “So you admit it?” you shot back, unable to mask the tremor of anger in your voice.

He scoffed, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “Admit it? That man almost sabotaged the campaign. He betrayed you, and when he paid the price, I’m the one you despise? Most people would thank me.”

The words stung, each syllable a twist of the knife. He continued, almost mockingly, his voice lowering as he leaned slightly forward. “Are you sure you’re up for this fight?” His gaze sharpened, piercing. “Find a better reason to hate me.”

Every word he spoke grated against you, each line deliberately crafted to sting. But you swallowed, forcing yourself to keep your expression steady, refusing to let him see the turmoil swirling inside.

He shook his head, dismissing your anger with a faint chuckle, then leaned back against the desk. “What’s your plan, then? After you bring me down—let’s say you even succeed—what’s next? Do you want Nate to grow up with a criminal for a father?”

Your mind raced, the walls of the Oval Office seeming to close in even further as his words lingered in the air. Steve's gaze was fixed on you, measuring, calculating your silence. And then, as if sensing your hesitation, he gave a triumphant smile, his voice like velvet but colder. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding.”

He turned his back, leaving you standing there, stunned. 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Four Months Later

You sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the TV as Steve’s face filled the screen. Every channel was the same, broadcasting praise for him, with pundits and newscasters barely containing their admiration. It was unsettling. The media, usually fierce in their critiques, seemed almost reverent. You clenched your jaw, your annoyance simmering under the polished surface of his televised speeches and the careful flattery of his supporters.

From behind you, Bucky spoke up, his tone casual yet knowing. “That’s why people like him,” he said, coming closer. “He never once said he’d make this country fair or just. But he’s proving himself, little by little.”

You looked up, catching his serious expression. He continued, “Steve knew that every leader who vows fairness and justice ends up being despised as soon as they’re in power. They turn into exactly what they swore they’d destroy.”

You couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of your voice. “So… can we abdicate him?”

Bucky laughed softly. “Abdicate Steve?” He smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Honey, that’s a little extreme, even for you.”

“Steve’s ascension was legitimate. He fits the role, and from what the surveys say, voter turnout was historic.” He paused, meeting your gaze with a measured seriousness. “Overthrowing him would shatter public trust—not just in him, but in the entire government.”

“Would it, though?” you asked, challenging him with a raised eyebrow.

Bucky sighed, crossing over to sit beside you. He rested his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t focus on Steve alone—consider what my position means now too. I’m still seen as ‘the new kid,’ the one who made it here because of him. Plenty of people are watching, eager to see me stumble.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the determination there, but also the caution. Bucky knew the stakes, perhaps even more than you. You could feel the weight he carried, the delicate balancing act of supporting Steve while laying the groundwork for his own ambitions.

He took a deep breath, leaning closer, his voice low and resolute. “People may believe in me, but if we move too fast, we’ll lose them. And I won’t let that happen. I know you believe I could make a good president—and I plan to get there. But…” He paused, looking into your eyes, “we have to be patient.”

You remembered the priest’s words: ‘Believe in God’s timing.’ Patience, the one thing you struggled with most in a situation like this. But you trusted Bucky. You could feel his strength, his restraint, his understanding of the game they were all playing.

Bucky’s gaze softened, but his words were firm. “To succeed, I have to publicly support Steve, at least for now. In politics, loyalty and trust are everything. We need them on our side.”

As you processed his words, a chilling realization sank in. Steve’s mocking question echoed in your mind: “Are you sure you’re a match for me?” He was right—his plans were meticulous, every move calculated for safety. And Bucky was right too. This was a game of patience, timing, and subtlety.

But the question remained: Who would be powerful enough to finally bring Steve down?

🌸🌸🌸🌸

At the White House, Peggy approached the front entrance, only to be stopped by two Secret Service agents, their expressions impassive.

“I'm here to see my husband,” she said, her voice firm, though a tremor betrayed her unease.

One of the agents cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You don’t have clearance to enter.”

She blinked, the words sinking in like a slap. “Excuse me? This is my husband's residence. I have every right to be here.”

The agent’s face remained unreadable. “I understand, but orders are orders. Mr. Rogers specified… no access.”

Humiliated, Peggy took a step back, heat rising to her cheeks as a cold realization struck her: Steve was truly keeping his word. She was being kept out of his life, and now, out of his home. She turned, bitterness flooding her chest, and started down the steps, fighting to keep her composure.

As she walked toward her car, laughter drifted from the garden. Curiosity sparked, and she moved toward a nearby window, peeking inside. There, in the garden, was Steve, laughing as he played with Nate, while Hazel sat on a bench, watching them, her smile soft and warm.

The scene twisted like a knife in Peggy’s heart. They look like a family.

She clenched her fists, forcing down a surge of fury and grief. In a voice barely more than a whisper, she asked the guard at her side, “How often do they come here?”

“Every weekend, ma’am,” the guard replied softly.

Her voice cracked as she stammered, “D-Do they… stay the night?”

The guard’s silence was enough, but he finally nodded, “Yes.”

The words struck her like a blow to the gut. She stays here? She sleeps in the White House? Peggy had never once been allowed to spend the night here, but Hazel—Hazel could? The injustice stung in a way that words couldn’t capture.

On her drive back, the scenes replayed over and over, thoughts like poison seeping into her mind. She remembered a press conference where Steve had passionately pledged to support local manufacturing, calling out Hazel as a shining example.

“Like one designer, Hazel Barnes,” he had said, the admiration in his voice unmistakable. “She’s the kind of woman who understands her privilege and uses it to lift others up. Her business is 100% local, supporting homegrown talent. If we had more people like her, this country would thrive.”

The memory burned, the admiration in his tone a raw wound. Not once had he praised her. Not when he was in the military, not when he became governor, not when he ran for Senate, and certainly not now, when he was president. Hazel was now his example, his ideal, the woman he chose to highlight.

By the time she finally reached home, it was close to midnight. She entered the house in a daze, weary from her own broken heart. Yet despite the pain, she clung to her duties, driven to exhaustion by a schedule that seemed never-ending. As she set her bag down, her assistant approached her, offering a warm, sympathetic smile.

“The twins had a good day today,” her assistant said softly. “They finished their study sessions and met with the psychiatrist. They’re making great progress."

Peggy’s tired eyes softened at the news. “Thank you. That’s… that’s wonderful.” She gave a slight nod, the smallest glimmer of peace settling in her chest.

Quietly, she made her way to the twins’ room and opened the door to find them still awake, caught in the glow of a handheld game console.

“Hi, Mom,” one of them greeted her, quickly hiding the console behind his back. Both boys looked at her with guilty smiles, expecting a reprimand.

But instead of scolding them, she stepped forward, placing a soft kiss on each of their foreheads before wrapping her arms around them in a rare, tender hug.

“Mom?” they asked, voices laced with concern as they took in her weary expression.

She managed a small, tired smile. “I’m just… tired. That’s all.”

One of the boys squeezed her hand. “Take a hot bath, Mom. We’ll make you some milk with honey.”

The gesture nearly brought tears to her eyes. “Thank you, boys,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “Thank you so much.”

They left, shooting her worried looks over their shoulders as they went downstairs to prepare her drink. Peggy moved into her room, slipping off her heels and sitting at her vanity, removing her makeup with slow, methodical movements, as though going through the motions might somehow soothe her mind.

A knock came at her door, and she turned to see the twins standing there with a warm mug in hand, faces bright with concern. She mustered a smile, taking the milk from them. “Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. “It’s delicious.”

The twins lingered, watching her carefully, but after a moment, they seemed reassured. She looked the same as always—tired, maybe a little worn—but still their mother. With quiet “goodnights,” they slipped away to their room, leaving her alone in the silence of her own thoughts.

Peggy finished the drink, placing the empty mug down with trembling hands. She reached into her desk drawer, fingers brushing over an object she hadn’t touched in months. She pulled it out slowly, staring down at it for a long, heavy moment before standing and making her way to the bathroom.

She undressed and stepped into the hot bath, letting the warmth soak her weary body. But as the heat wrapped around her, it couldn’t reach the coldness embedded in her heart. She leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling, her mind swirling with everything she had once hoped for Steve, all the faith she'd placed in him.

He was supposed to be different. She’d thought that becoming president would have brought out wisdom and fairness in him, but instead, he clung to his principles, more ruthless than ever. Memories of the admiration in his voice when he praised Hazel flooded her thoughts, a contrast so sharp it was almost cruel. Steve had never looked at her that way, never spoken her name with that warmth, that pride.

For a moment, her mind drifted to Bucky and you, the loyalty he had shown you, unwavering, year after year. In the past five years, through everything, he had remained faithful, and you had accepted him fully, supporting him in ways Peggy could hardly fathom. She had never known that kind of love with Steve.

She looked down at her wrist, fingers tightening around the object from her desk. Her phone lay beside her, and she typed a short message before putting it aside. She traced the edge of the object against her wrist, whispering, “I’ll set you free.” Her voice was barely audible, fragile against the silence.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

At 2 a.m., Steve was pulled from sleep by the sound of his bedroom door opening. He sat up, irritation flashing in his eyes, ready to reprimand whoever had dared disturb him. But then he saw Natasha standing there, her face pale, eyes wide with urgency.

“Mr. President… I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice tight, “but this is very urgent.”

A chill crept through him as her words seemed to hang in the air. He got out of bed and followed her, feeling as though he was moving through a thick fog.

Moments later, Steve found himself staring down at Peggy in the bathtub, her body pale and lifeless, the water around her a deep, dark red. His knees buckled, and he collapsed beside her, reaching for her, his arms wrapping around her as if he could somehow bring her back.

“Peggy…” he whispered, his voice breaking. He tightened his hold on her, feeling the unbearable weight of the silence that filled the room.

The twins, William and Charles, stood just outside, tears streaming down their faces, unable to fully grasp the scene before them. They looked at their mother, broken and cold, the life drained from her, and their father, on his knees, clutching her like a lifeline.

Natasha cleared her throat, eyes averted as she whispered, “Mr. President… we should make an announcement.”

Steve’s head snapped up, his eyes sharp and commanding. “Stop.” The firmness in his voice was absolute, leaving no room for argument.

The room fell into stunned silence.

“Tell the public that the First Lady has collapsed from exhaustion,” Steve said coldly. “She was tireless, supporting me without a moment’s rest. Now… she’s taking time to recover.”

The twins’ eyes widened, shock and betrayal mingling with their grief.

“Dad?!” William’s voice cracked, staring at his father in disbelief.

“It would be disastrous for this country to know that the First Lady took her own life,” Steve continued, his tone as unyielding as steel. “It would tarnish her memory. She’d be seen as unstable, weak. This is for her legacy, for the image she worked so hard to uphold.”

The twins shook their heads, voices choked with pain. “No. Mother isn’t like that. She’s not some unstable woman.”

Steve knelt beside them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders, his voice soft but unyielding. “Boys, trust me. This is for the best. We want people to remember your mother’s dedication, her strength. Not… this.”

He pulled them into an embrace, eyes glistening as he held them close, as if his grip alone could silence their pain. Over their shoulders, his gaze drifted back to Peggy’s lifeless form, his expression unreadable. For a split second, a small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips as he thought, Her sacrifice won’t be forgotten.

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[sixosix]

PLASTIC FLOWERS | LYNEY

i. summary the great magician lyney wooing nine-to-fiver reader

ii. tags 1.8k words, fluff, reader is a little slow but hey that’s what 9-to-5 does to someone, pining lyney, awkward flirting, and a lot of wilted flowers im sorry…

You’ve heard of Lyney and Lynette in passing before. You might’ve rushed past one of their street performances once or twice, or maybe you stumbled upon flyers promoting their grand shows fluttering past. However, today, they are the center of every discussion, particularly Lyney, from your gushing coworkers. They swoon about how charming the young man was to them, and how exceptionally talented twins are.

You start to feel a little left out. You want to witness what all the excitement is all about, too. Your nine-to-five has you rushing back and forth the streets of Fontaine like there’s no tomorrow—and to your defense, with all the rumors and prophecies floating around, it might as well be that case.

Afternoon. Nearly evening. Your legs feel like water, liquid, and unable to keep themselves upright. You’re like a zombie walking back to your humble abode, drained of human life from too much human interaction.

A round of applause has you slowing your steps, your attention pulled towards a small crowd as if struck by a magnetic force.

A young man stands at the center, grinning devilishly as the crowd once again erupts into gasps of awe. He clutches a deck of cards in his hand, the classic image of what comes to mind when you think of magicians. Yet, you find yourself unable to move. It might be your water-legs; it might be how the man has everyone spellbound.

“Thank you, everyone!” he says, and the spell is broken at once. Was it a spell? It felt like one. “Be sure to come next week to Lynette and I’s performance at the Opera Epiclese, alright?” So he is Lyney.

Witnessing his elegance and heart-stealing smirk, you at least now know that your coworkers were certainly telling the truth.

The crowd filters out one by one. You do the same, wondering how much the tickets would cost. Hopefully no more than your usual dinner; that would mean you’d have to eat frozen bread for an entire evening.

“Wait, wait!”

You turn at the frantic exclamation, startled when Lyney is looking directly at you and rushing toward you. Panicked, you quickly scan your surroundings, only to find that there’s no one else he could possibly be referring to.

Just you.

“Hello,” you murmur begrudgingly once he’s at a close distance.

“Hi,” he says back, a little breathless. “You missed the show earlier.”

“I—I did.” Is he seriously talking to you? “But don’t worry! I saw enough. It was really cool!” Really? It was really cool?

He relaxes, his smile turning pleased. Lyney’s gaze feels heavy when you’re the only one holding onto it. “That’s a shame. I’ve seen you around before, zipping through. I won’t let you slip through my fingers this time around.”

His voice is smooth. You find yourself liking the lilac of his eyes.

At your stunned silence, Lyney continues, “Here, watch my hand closely, alright?”

You nod obediently, mostly to conceal how flustered his presence is making you feel. It feels as if his voice is right beside your ears, or it might just be how it seems like the world quiets down for this moment.

He closes his palm. You hear him huff a sweet laugh. You get distracted and glance up, though it seems it was a mistake. He grins at you knowingly, eyes twinkling—his stupid, dark eyes. You look back down, and a flower has magically appeared square on his palm.

It’s a flower you’re unfamiliar with, but it’s beautiful and smells sweet so you find yourself uncaring of whatever it could mean.

He stares patiently.

You blink, dumb-struck. “For me?”

“Of course,” he says with a dazzling grin.

“Oh, thank you, but I— I really don’t know how to take care of these things, and I’m so busy, I don’t know if I should—”

You reject it. Which, in hindsight, was most rude.

Lyney tilts his head, smiling like you’re some cute cat he found passing by—and that gaze has your words dying on your tongue. “I’m not giving it to you for you to feel burdened with the responsibility of taking care of it. Trust me, I just want you to have it.”

You look at him, uncertainty flashing in your expression. “You don’t want to give it to someone else…?”

“Why would I? I saved this one especially for you,” the sweet talker says.

You highly doubt his words, but it’s nice to hear nevertheless. With a bashful smile, you take the flower and vow to yourself to take care of it as much as you can. It’s the only flower you’ve received your entire life.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He lights up impossibly, standing out so easily against the crowd. Just like that, you’re captivated.

The next day, Lyney reappears in your life. You're beginning to suspect that his hat conceals an infinite stockpile of these roses, and maybe that's the true magic: the enigma of Lyney's never-ending supply.

This time around, he’s loitering the streets without plans for any performances, however small. Though, he still entertains you in different ways.

“My work’s not too nice,” you tell him when he asks why you look tired, all too aware of your sore feet and cheeks from straining smiles all day. “I don’t know how you performers do it non-stop. I feel like I could just sleep on this sidewalk.”

“It might be helping that I love doing what I do,” Lyney supplies after a thoughtful hum. It’s still a little surreal having the man printed in posters and pictures all over The Steambird is now casually walking alongside you, but it’s nice. You feel your world has just brightened up a little—the new change of pace painting over the dull back and forth you’ve been living through for a while.

“Hey,” Lyney starts, as your eyes flick up from the ground to him. He’s holding another flower.

You smile as you gingerly take it from his fingers, skin brushing against his glove-free hands. “You’re helping the flower shops thrive, that’s for sure.”

“What can I say? I’m wonderful like that.”

You laugh, but it quickly dies down when you catch a glimpse of how Lyney is staring at you so openly with a bit of awe.

You clear your throat, looking away.

Lyney does the same as you find your face heating up. “Sorry.”

“Um,” scrambling for a change of topic, you say, “Are you trying to get me to watch the show you and your sister are holding next week?”

“What?” Lyney blinks, caught off guard. He smiles lopsidedly as you await for an answer. “No, I’m talking to you because I like you. And here I thought I was making myself obvious.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit slow,” you say, in a daze at his blunt confession.

That was nothing (that has to be). That was probably just your imagination, honestly—fantasizing about a handsome face, a small braid, and a mischievous grin. And you definitely don’t find yourself lying awake at night thinking about it.

As always, Lyney comes with a flower in hand. And you find out that he wasn’t lying when he said he saves a special flower for you.

You’re not sure how it seamlessly became a routine with him. At times, you wonder if he’s actually keeping track of the roses if you haven’t been throwing them to the trash. You wouldn't be able to deny it; you eventually would have to discard a once again graying rose, no matter how heartbreaking the parting is.

This time, you’re prepared. You've been studying up, like a lovesick high school student devouring dating magazines during your spare moments at work. The rose will still most likely wilt unfairly fast with how you’re barely a presence in your own home; sleeping soundly as soon as you arrive.

Lyney is smiling softly as he gives this one to you, silent. Though that’s probably because you’re raving on about how you swear that the next ones he’ll give will live longer if you figure out how to do it right.

He likes doing that—staring at you like watching a film play even though he’s the one on stage more often than not.

“Do you know what all those flowers I gave you mean?” he asks as you’re twirling it around and counting the petals. They’re still bright pink, fading to yellow at its tips. You shake your head. It could mean anything, really. You haven’t gotten to that part of the book yet. “My feelings for you,” he says. “I give them to you every day so you’re reminded of it.”

Your finger catches on one of the petals, your skin burning. “…Is that what you think? I feel horrible; the flowers you’ve given me all die in a day or two.”

Lyney laughs. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“How else can I show you I’m not just casting your feelings aside?”

You turn to Lyney, wondering why he suddenly went silent. Only then, you see how he has his face buried in his palm, a dazed smile peeking out from what’s visible. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“...Sorry.”

He recovers fast. “Don’t be sorry.” Lyney holds your jaw in a precise grip, keeping your gaze focused on him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It’s only the next morning do you realize that the petals haven’t changed at all. You’re not sure why you haven’t noticed earlier.

Then again, you should’ve realized when he brought up what they mean so suddenly, that slick bastard.

Lyney sees you around the afternoon, and immediately he sees something new around your collar, probably because he keeps staring at it.

Lyney pulls you closer with a hand on the small of your back, and the other inspecting your brand-new necklace. “Is this…?”

It was a bit difficult to craft your own accessory, but you tried nevertheless. If Lyney goes out of his way to purchase different kinds of flowers, the least you can do is show him that each one makes you as happy as the first one did.

“You said they’re kind of like your feelings, right?” you say, unsure as to why you’re whispering. Lyney’s expression looks a little fragile. “So I made them into something to remind me of you every day.”

He presses his face onto your neck, and you nearly lose balance, holding onto the back of his head to keep yourself upright. “You’re too cute, amour. My heart can’t handle all of this,” he weeps dramatically.

( “Close your mouth, Lyney. You’re drooling,” Lynette says as she follows his gaze, watching you flutter past.

Lyney’s mouth snaps shut, wiping at his lips. He frowns. “I wasn’t even drooling.” He shakes his head. “Nevermind that—do you know who that was?”

“No,” Lynette says simply. “But I’m sure you’ll find a way to figure out eventually.” )

lyney went back to giving you real flowers after that btw

this was inspired by me daydreaming about lyney’s character quest and remembering that he literally gave us that flower accessory

[oldsoul007]

who’s the cute boy with the white jacket

nicholas chavez x singer!reader

summary: y/n comes out with a hit new single and fans have their suspicions who it’s about…

I had always poured my heart into my music, but this time, it was different. I had written an interesting song that came straight from my soul, every note and lyric echoing my feelings for Nicholas. Who I had an interesting relationship with. The song quickly became a hit, and my fans couldn't help but speculate that it was about him.

Nicholas, being the observant and thoughtful friend he was, started noticing the buzz. One evening, after a long day of filming, he decided he couldn't ignore it any longer. He needed to know the truth. He called me and asked to meet me in at his apartment.

When I sat down, Nicholas didn't waste any time. "Y/n, I need to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me. The new song you wrote... everyone is saying it's about me. Is it true?"

I felt my heart race as I looked into his eyes. I had never intended for him to find out this way, but there was no turning back now. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. "Yes, Nicholas. The song is about you. Writing that song was my way of expressing what I couldn't say out loud."

Nicholas sat back, absorbing my words. He had always cared deeply for me, but hearing my confession made him realize just how much she meant to him. "Y/n. Now that I know, I can't pretend I don't feel the same way. I've always admired you, not just as a friend, but as someone truly special to me."

The weight of unspoken emotions lifted between them, and for the first time, me and Nicholas faced the possibility of a future together, our bond stronger than ever.

I stepped onto the stage, my heart pounding with anticipation. The lights dimmed, and the audience fell silent, waiting for the first notes of my new album. I was dressed in a stunning vintage outfit, complete with a classic 1950s silhouette that perfectly complemented the retro vibe of my music, with a twist of my personality.

As the first song began, my voice filled the room, rich and emotive. The crowd was instantly captivated, swaying and singing along to the nostalgic melodies. Each song seemed to transport them back in time, and it was clear that I had struck a chord with my audience.

In the middle of my set, Lauren glanced out into the crowd and spotted Nicholas. He was standing near the front, his eyes locked on me, completely mesmerized. His admiration was palpable, and it gave me an extra boost of confidence. I smiled, knowing he was there, supporting my every step of the way.

As the final notes of my last song faded, the audience erupted into applause. People were on their feet, cheering and shouting for more. Y/n took a deep bow, my heart swelling with gratitude and joy.

But the excitement didn't end there. Someone in the crowd recognized Nicholas and pointed him out. A wave of whispers and camera flashes followed, as fans realized that the charming actor was there, completely smitten with the star of the night.

Nicholas didn't shy away; instead, he beamed with pride, clapping and cheering louder than anyone else. The sight of him so obviously in awe of y/n added to the magic of the evening. It was a moment neither of them would forget—a night where y/n talent shone brightly, and Nicholas's love and admiration were on full display for everyone to see.

I decided to have Nicholas Chavez in my music video, me and Nicholas are portrayed as star-crossed lovers in a glamorous, retro setting. The video opens with me singing in an elegant, dimly lit jazz club, my eyes occasionally drifting to Nicholas, who sits at a table, watching me intently.

As the song progresses, the scenes shift to more intimate moments. We share a slow dance under twinkling lights, our bodies close and movements synchronized. The camera captures our stolen glances and subtle touches, creating a palpable tension.

In another scene, we’re in a vintage convertible, driving through a city at night. The wind tousles my hair as Nicholas steals a glance at me, his affection evident. We stop at a secluded spot, where me share a tender moment, leaning in as if to kiss, but pulling back just enough to leave the audience yearning for more.

The video culminates in a dramatic rooftop scene, where we finally give in to their emotions. Under the moonlight, we share a passionate kiss, sealing our connection. The final shot fades out with us holding each other, the city skyline behind us, leaving fans captivated by our undeniable chemistry.

After months of subtle hints and soft launches, the night had finally arrived. Me and Nicholas were about to debut our relationship at a high-profile red carpet event. The air was electric with anticipation as we stepped out of the limousine, the flash of cameras capturing every moment.

I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. Nicholas, sensing my unease, gently squeezed my hand. "We've got this," he whispered, his eyes locking onto mine with unwavering support.

As we walked down the red carpet, the crowd's reaction was immediate. Whispers and gasps filled the air as people recognized us together, looking every bit the perfect couple. My stunning dress and Nicholas's sharp suit complemented each other flawlessly, creating a picture-perfect moment.

Reporters eagerly called out our names, asking for comments and photos. Nicholas wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. "We're here together," he said confidently, his voice steady. "And we couldn't be happier."

I smiled, my heart swelling with a mix of love and pride. I leaned into Nicholas, feeling the warmth of his embrace. The months of soft launches had led to this magical moment, and it was everything she had hoped for and more.

As they posed for photos, Nicholas's admiration for y/n was evident to everyone. His eyes never left her, filled with genuine affection and pride. The red carpet debut was not just a public declaration of their relationship but a testament to the deep connection they had built over time. Y/n, it was the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with love and endless possibilities.

[pastryfication]

hii, I don't know if you can and especially if you want to do this fic, but I just finished watching the Wimbledon final (I'm a Carlos Alcaraz girly) and I wanted to ask you if you could make a Leclerc sister! reader x Carlos Alcaraz (with the addition of Charles, Arthur and Lorenzo obviously) if you don't want to write it I apologize for the inconvenience, but if you do I thank you so much🫶🏼💕

(Sorry if My english Is not good, but Is not My native language)

hi! thank you so much for the request 🫶

i tried my best with this but i don’t know much about tennis and i’ve only watched like half the matches of wimbledon this year so i had to make my dad give me a quick break down of the finale… i know this is not as good as you probably expected but i hope you like it either way!!

wimbledon winner | carlos alcaraz

pairing: carlos alcaraz x leclerc sister!reader

warnings: very bad descriptions of tennis?

you can hardly contain your excitement as you guide your family through the bustling crowds of the wimbledon grounds. today is the day your boyfriend is competing in the final against none other than novak djokovic. the atmosphere is electric, and the excitement is palpable.

you had invited your entire family, wanting to share this special moment of your life with them and your brothers, charles and arthur, are just as—if not more—thrilled thrilled than you, though their enthusiasm is more subdued. your oldest brother, lorenzo, and his girlfriend, charlotte, are chatting animatedly, while your mother walks beside you, her eyes wide with awe at the grandeur of it all.

"i stilll can't believe we're here," arthur says, glancing around with a grin. "watching carlos in the final. it's incredible."

"he's going to do great," charles adds, giving you a reassuring smile. "he's worked so hard for this."

"i know," you reply, feeling a surge of pride for your boyfriend. "he's been training non-stop. he deserves this."

as you make your way to your seats, you can't help but feel a rush of nerves. the stadium is enormous, and the crowd's energy is almost overwhelming, but having your family here with you calms you a bit.

you find your seats and settle in, your heart pounding with anticipation. the match begins, and the tension is palpable. djokovic is a formidable opponent, but carlos is playing with a determination you've never seen before.

every point is a battle, and the crowd is on the edge of their seats. you find yourself gripping charles' hand, almost breaking his fingers, but he doesn’t mind. he’s unable to look away from the court as well, finding the match as exciting as you. carlos is moving with such grace and power, each shot more impressive than the last.

"he's incredible," charlotte whispers, her eyes wide with admiration. "i've never seen anyone play like this.”

"he's got this," lorenzo says confidently, sensing your nervousness. "you can see it in his eyes."

as the match progresses, carlos begins to pull ahead. his serves are precise, his volleys unstoppable. the crowd erupts with cheers, and you can't help but join in, your heart swelling with pride.

when the final point is won, and carlos emerges victorious, the stadium explodes with applause. you jump to your feet, tears of joy streaming down your face. your family is cheering just as loudly, their pride evident in their faces.

carlos looks up into the stands, his eyes searching for you. when he sees you, his face lights up with a radiant smile. he lifts his racket in triumph, and you blow him a kiss, your heart just about to burst.

"he did it!" you exclaim, turning to hug your mother. "he really did it!"

"we knew he could," she replies, her voice filled with emotion. "he's an incredible player."

as the celebrations continue, you make your way down to the court. carlos is surrounded by reporters and fans, but when he sees you, he breaks away and runs to you, scooping you up in his arms.

"you were amazing," you say, your voice choked with emotion. "i'm so proud of you."

"i couldn't have done it without you," he replies, his eyes shining with love. "having you here, knowing you were watching . . . it made all the difference."

you kiss him, the world fading away as you lose yourself in the moment.

your family joins you quickly after, and carlos is soon enveloped in hugs and congratulations.

"you were fantastic, mate," charles says, clapping carlos on the back. "absolutely incredible."

"thank you," carlos replies, his smile never wavering. "it means a lot to have you all here."

the rest of the day is a blur of celebrations and happiness. you can hardly believe it's real, that carlos has won the wimbledon final. but as you stand by his side, surrounded by your family, you know that this is just the beginning.

[m0chisenpai]

Louis x reader x Armand

The reader is a witch and she meets Armand and Louis and Claudia when going to watch a vampire play. They are mesmerized by her enchanting presence, wondering what and who she is

superstitious

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

˚｡⋆ platonic!claudia x black!fem!reader

in which the missing piece fills the gaps

author note: We're gonna play with the idea that Louis has somewhat integrated into coven life

Another night of plays. And a new role for Claudia. A nod to the past, Claudia plays the maid to Marie Antoinette who witnesses both affairs and murders of the king and queen.

The role is silent, but it is better than falling out a window every singe night in that godforsaken blue dress. At least she could be a woman for the many nights to come. She'll give Louis that little credit due.

As always, Louis assumes his usual spot, watching his sister perform while his companion sits above. There is peace between all three. And at the same time, a feeling of lonesome resides. Like there is something missing. He assumed Madeline would fill it, a fledgling that he felt such pride and dare say love.

But the loneliness remained. She could feel it in him. But Louis would brush her curious gaze aside.

Until that evening when she enters.

Armand smells her before she even steps foot into the theatre. It is rich, it is new. It almost smells familiar of his previous years abroad. Whoever is here, their blood sings to his dead heart. It begs for him to consume it, to be bathed in it.

Had an ancient one found their way back? He looks down into the seats. Soldiers, husbands and wives, students fill the house. But he sees nothing.

Louis catches Armand's gaze, he sees his gaze, 'what is it?'

'Something is here. An ancient thing or being. I do not know what it is. But there is power in it.'

His gaze shifts to Medline, 'keep watch over yourself and your companion.'

"One ticket please!" The dressed up vampire hands the young woman her ticket which she holds between gloved hands. She felt out of place in her softer colors against the dark theatre, but she always did stick out. Perhaps the vampire assumed her to be a child, she certainly exuded such child like excitement as she skipped into the theatre

"Vampires pretending to be humans pretending to be vampires," you whisper to yourself in awe finding your seat. "How dramatic, Prudence was right. But when is she never?"

The act begins. Murder marks the end of all the scenes and your laughter is like a bell in the vampires ears. Armand searched but can not find you nor can Louis pinpoint your presence. But a magnetizing feeling washes over their bodies.

Then the final act happens. The vampire troupe feast on the woman and silence fills the theatre. But you stand in loud applause shouting your praise in French. And it is as though the world ends when all three look upon you. Even though the applause thunders over your praise, they hear it so loudly.

How your eyes shimmer in praise, how your pearly white smile lights the room. Claudia freezes with the blood dripping along her lips. Trying to remember your face as the curtains pull shut. Armand watches as you look up, nodding your head giving your applause to him now.

But Louis, oh he wants you then and there. But the crowd keeps him from meeting you in the aisles as you quickly move out.

You may appreciate the arts, but you know not to engage those much farther up the food chain.

"Oh sisters it was wondrous as you said!" you whisper in awe as you tie your scarf looking in to the mirror of your flat.

"Did I not tell you it was a delight, though in their early days they were more Shakespearean. I suppose they choose to cater to their English crowd now."

"And times are changing sister dear. some of us have not graced this land as long as you have," you smirk as she gasps at your retort.

"And did you see the leader? Is he not handsome!" Your fellow sister Urydice exclaims moving Prudence aside to stand in front of the mirror. Her milky white gaze grounds you as she press forward closer.

"He was..beautiful." you shyly whisper and the girl squeals.

"Oh you must approach them! you must! if not for you then for romance my sister!" She was always the most romantic of you all. Each of your sisters had their areas of the arts they adored. And your dear sister favored love above all.

"Enough girls return to your chambers."

"Yes Mother." You whisper your goodbyes to all the girls until she sits in front. Your leader, the mother of your group. She is old and wise from the many lifetimes she has survived, but no age touches her complexion. Her hair large and thick is braided back and you realize how much you miss your mother.

"My darling," she whispers with a smile on her lips "I see you are adjusting well to the city of love." You quickly nod, folding your hands tight in your lap. "Be safe. These vampires hold great power. And they have numbers. Until we have arrived you are to not engage them, please my dear."

"Yes mother," you bow your head and press a kiss to your pointer and middle finger pressing it to the glass. And as soon as she does the same all that is left is your reflection.

You should listen to her, but you don't. You ponder and mull over the many protection casts that could offer you a chance to possibly approach. But in the end you toss any ideas aside and blow all the candles out and raise a hand to dim the lamps as well.

And as you shed your robe to slip into your bed. The golden eyes that watch from your balcony disappear into the night.

That next night you sit at the cafe writing letters to your scattered sisters. Some in English, three in French and the one in Italian you work on slowly, whispering your thoughts to yourself.

"You're not from here ma'am? Haven't heard Italian before," the young girl sitting in front of you startles you, but you keep your face neutral. The younger ones are far more dangerous. Quick tempered, more fierce.

You smile at her and shake your head. "No, I am not. But Italy is not my home unfortunately." You sip from your glass of coffee. "I must say you are an exceptional actress. The breath was taken right out of me, especially at the end."

"Thank you, years of practice led me here."

"From...America?" you guess, no you know.

Her eyes widen as does her smile, "how'd you know?"

"Southern accent. Heard it growing up when I was a bit younger than you, course till we moved and such."

"Claudia, what'd I tell you bout disturbing folks?"

You hate to admit how the man who joins you both at the table makes your eyes widen. The way he places his hand on the back of her chair, appearing from the entrance inside the cafe to sit beside her. Your cheeks feel hot as his gaze settles upon you. You seem to have some affect as well because he is no longer chiding at the girl.

"No, she is fine sir. Just some simple conversation is all" you tilt your head, "your daughter I am assuming?"

"Ah well...yes" he fumbles his words. "Lost her mother and wound up here for some time."

"How sweet," you smile at the two now bundling your letters to drop at the post hoping the tremble of your hand is unnoticeable. "I should be taking my leave now. It was lovely to speak to you both."

"Claudia," she quickly shakes your hand when you step to her.

"Louis."

They wish you could stay. But you toss the necessary amount by your cup and leave the two behind to watch you walk down the stony path. You move slowly, hoping the urgency in your leaving goes unnoticed. Where two are gathered surely a secret third will try and interceded. To make you a meal.

One night turns into two, then three when you return again it has been a challenging week. A week of you trying to avoid that theatre, but they call out to you in the night. "Come, come to us." It's as though they sit by your windows whispering, begging for you. But the leader requests your presence tonight.

One of the women leads you to where he sits. The only empty seat beside him is where you situate yourself.

"When did he turn you?"

"Don't have a creator." You whisper, eyes remaining on the stage. They flicker to Louis who looks up, giving you a smile which you quickly return along with a small wave.

"You know we are not human, yet you yourself are not one of us," now his head turns to look at you. "But you do not smell mortal. And your presence...it is unusual."

"I smell?"

"Nothing like the boys of war I can assure you, it is not unwelcoming" Armand can not help the smallest of smiles when he hears your sigh of relief. "But I must ask you again. What are you if not human?"

You hesitate, remembering the words of your mother. "We are not human. In the past humans maddened by thoughts of God and Satan killed us one by one. They stopped it from being publicized but they still hunt us to this day running us into the shadows of the night and to all corners of this world."

"You are a witch?"

"We refrain from calling ourselves that," your hand rests against a necklace. The very one all of you share engraved with an ancient sigil, the metal untouched by the years you have owned it. "We are scattered across the world to avoid any more unnecessary murders."

You pause to clap for Claudia, smiling as she grins up at you at the end of her act.

"Will you be in France for long?" Armand asks once you sit back down.

"I would like to be. Rome was for a moment. And I am not sure I wish to return again to Greece, though I miss the waters." Armand returns his gaze down to Claudia and Louis both steal glances at him.

"If you stay here, I can gurantee your safety."

Claudia adores you and spends any moment she can to hear about your travels. Taking you to Madeline's shop where the young fledgling happily dresses and styles you and around the city while Louis walks around the city with you. Taking shots of you facing the moonlight or along the river. They are some of his best work.

Armand shows you artwork from the world. And some of his older works of plays dating back to the theatre's founding days.

Each of them can not help but feel you fill the gap in their hearts.

They feel dizzy just being in the midst of your presence.

Then one night, as you sit atop Armand's lap. Louis' hand settles at the back of your neck, squeezing it gently to pull your head to look up at him. Your bare chest heaves as Armand lays kisses upon it. There is something electric in the air, something magical in your eyes.

The candles burn brighter with each kiss. Flickering with your breathing, as though they are breathing with you.

"Stay with us," his voice a whisper. Your eyes remain on his. He whispers it again, "join us."

Your mothers words are drowned from the two. Their warnings are nothing but a fly in your ear which you swat away.

"Yes, please." Armand lets a soft hiss as he bites into the juncture of your neck while Louis bites into the other side. And it is like liquid fire fills your vein and fills theirs.

The candles flicker out at that very moment.

It is as though you are bonded to them in that moment.

Theirs for an eternity.

[herstoryheaven]

Descendants Harry Hook x Reader: The Golden Glow of Change

Request: Hi! you could do a Harry hook x princess reader (Rapunzel's daughter) the reader is very shy, and when the barrier is removed, Harry flirt with her (can you not write the length of the hair, because I was thinking of a reader with short hair "in my case" but I don't know if it's okay for who read it) ty!

Reader: Female

Word count: 1739

Average reading time: 6 min 20 sec

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None

The atmosphere was magical as fairy godmother raised her wand, summoning her magic to bring down the barrier separating Auradon and the Isle of the Lost. A golden glow enveloped the barrier, and moments later, it shattered like glass, the shards dissolving into shimmering dust.

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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Cheers and applause filled the air as the people of the Isle began to cross the newly created bridge, stepping cautiously into Auradon. Y/n watched in awe, her heart swelling with a mixture of hope and nervousness. She knew this was a historical moment, but the uncertainty of what lay ahead left her feeling slightly uneasy.

As the celebration of Ben and Mal’s engagement continued, music began to play, and the people of Auradon and The Isle started to dance and mingle. Y/n found herself drifting toward the edge of the crowd, her shy nature making it difficult to fully enjoy the festivities. She was happy for her friends, but the thought of all these new faces made her stomach flutter with anxiety.

Just as she was thinking of finding a quiet spot to catch her breath, she overheard a conversation nearby. She couldn't help but eavesdrop, the voices familiar yet slightly out of context in the celebratory setting.

"So she's definitely taken?" Harry Hook's smooth, accented voice inquired, talking about Mal. There was a certain casual curiosity in his tone, laced with his usual mischief.

Evie nodded, her dark blue hair catching the light as she affirmed, "Definitely."

Doug, standing next to Evie, added with a hint of protectiveness. "So is Evie."

Uma, standing nearby with her signature confident smirk, interjected, "Ah! What's my name?"

Harry responded swiftly, leaning in towards Uma with a teasing smirk. "Uma."

Uma shook her head, her expression playful yet firm. "No."

Suddenly, Y/n found herself caught in Harry's line of sight. She hadn't intended to draw attention to herself, but there she was, standing awkwardly on the side of the gathering. Almost instinctively, she blurted out, "Hi."

Harry's eyes lit up with surprise and curiosity as he looked directly at her. "Hi. Whoa!" he exclaimed, nearly bumping into her in his enthusiasm. His ocean-blue gaze locked onto hers, and a charming smirk spread across his face. The glint in his eye made her heart skip a beat. His dark hair, tousled by the sea breeze, framed a face that was as captivating as it was dangerous.

"H-Harry Hook." she stammered, recognizing him from the stories she'd heard about from Mal and Evie. His reputation preceded him, tales of his daring antics and roguish charm were legendary.

"At your service, princess." he said with a dramatic bow, never taking his eyes off her. His movements were fluid, like a dance he'd perfected over years of navigating treacherous waters. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Y/n Fitzherbert" she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Daughter of Rapunzel and Eugene."

"Ah, the princess with the glowing hair." Harry said, his grin widening. "Though I must say, it's your eyes that have captured my attention, darling."

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up at his words. "Thank you," she murmured, not quite knowing how to handle his boldness. The people around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them in a bubble of their own making.

Harry's gaze softened slightly, sensing her discomfort. "You don't need to be shy around me, lass. I'm harmless... mostly." He winked, extending a hand to her. His fingers were rough from the years spend on the isle, yet his touch was surprisingly gentle. "Care to dance?"

"I-I don't know if I'm very good at dancing." Y/n admitted, looking at his outstretched hand hesitantly. The idea of dancing with a pirate, not just any pirate, Harry Hook, was messing with her head.

"Good thing I am, then." Harry replied, taking her hand gently and leading her to the dance floor. The music surounded them, a lively tune that seemed to mirror the rapid beat of her heart.

As they began to dance, Y/n found herself getting lost in Harry's eyes. They were so blue, like the deepest part of the ocean, and she couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Harry seemed to notice her staring and chuckled softly, the sound like a warm breeze on a summer night.

"Enjoying the view, princess?" he teased, his voice low and playful.

Y/n quickly averted her gaze, feeling her face flush. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No need to apologize, darling." Harry interrupted, twirling her gracefully. "I find your shyness rather charming." His smile was infectious, and she found herself smiling back, the nervous tension in her shoulders easing slightly.

"It's just... all of this is so new to me." Y/n confessed, her voice barely audible over the music. "The idea of all these people from the Isle coming to Auradon. It's wonderful, but also a bit scary."

Harry's expression turned more serious, though his eyes still held their playful spark. "I get that. Change can be scary. But sometimes, it's necessary. Besides, it's not all bad, is it?" He gave her a boyish smile, the kind that promised adventure and mischief.

Y/n couldn't help but laugh softly. "No, I suppose not."

They danced in comfortable silence for a while, the music and laughter of the celebration swirling around them. Harry's hand was warm and steady on hers, and she found herself feeling surprisingly at ease. The world outside their dance seemed to disappear, leaving just the rhythm of the music and the soft murmur of their breaths.

"You know," Harry said after a while, his voice thoughtful, "you're braver than you think, lass."

Y/n looked up at him, surprised. "Me? Brave?"

"Aye," Harry nodded. "It takes a lot of courage to face the unknown, to welcome people you've been taught to fear. Not to mention, standing here with a pirate like me." He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief and admiration.

Y/n smiled, feeling a little more confident. "Maybe you're right. But it's still hard sometimes. Especially with the idea of becoming queen one day. I'm not sure I'm cut out for it."

Harry stopped dancing and looked at her seriously, his gaze unwavering. "Listen to me, darling. Being a queen isn't about being perfect or never being afraid. It's about caring for your people, about wanting to make things better. And from what I've seen, you've got plenty of that."

Y/n felt her heart swell at his words. "Thank you, Harry. That means a lot." She realized then that his words were more than just flattery, they were a reassurance, a promise that she wasn't alone in her fears and uncertainties.

He smiled, a softer, more genuine smile this time. "Anytime, princess. Now, how about we enjoy the rest of this celebration, aye?"

She nodded, feeling a newfound sense of courage and hope. As they continued to dance, Y/n realized that maybe, just maybe, she could embrace this new beginning. And with Harry by her side, she knew she wouldn't have to face it alone. 

-----

As the days turned into weeks, Harry and Y/n spent more time together. Harry was constantly by her side, guiding her through new experiences and helping her find her voice. He took her on adventures around Auradon, exploring the beauty of the land and its people together. One evening, Harry took Y/n to a secluded spot by a lake, where the water reflected the twilight sky.

"I've got a surprise for you, princess." Harry said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"A surprise?" Y/n asked, her curiosity piqued.

Harry led her to a small boat, helping her in before pushing off from the shore. As they glided across the water, Y/n noticed small lanterns floating in the sky, their soft glow reflecting off the surface of the lake.

"Lanterns." Y/n whispered, her eyes wide with wonder. "Just like the ones my mother told me about."

Harry grinned. "I thought you might like them. It's a little piece of your history, right here in Auradon."

Y/n's heart swelled with emotion. "It's beautiful, Harry. Thank you."

As they watched the lanterns, Harry turned to her, his expression serious. "Y/n, I've seen you grow so much since we first met. You've gone from a shy girl to someone who's starting to find her own strength. I'm proud of you, lass."

Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. "I couldn't have done it without you, Harry. You've helped me more than you know."

Harry reached out, taking her hand in his. His touch was gentle yet firm, his thumb slowly brushing over her knuckles. "And I'll continue to be here for you, princess. No matter what."

Their eyes met, and Y/n felt her heart flutter. The connection between them was undeniable, and as the lanterns illuminated the night, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Harry's hand left hers only to reach up, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered for a moment, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "You look beautiful," he whispered, his voice soft and filled with sincerity.

Y/n's breath hitched, the intimacy of the moment making her pulse quicken. "Harry," she said, her voice barely audible, "I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Harry replied, his gaze never leaving hers. "Just be here with me."

He leaned closer, and Y/n's heart raced in anticipation. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle glow of the lanterns and the warmth of Harry's presence. His lips were inches from hers, and she could feel his breath against her skin.

In that perfect moment, Harry closed the gap, his lips capturing hers in a tender, lingering kiss. Y/n felt a surge of emotion, the kiss speaking volumes of the feelings they shared. It was soft and sweet, yet filled with a passion that took her breath away.

As they pulled back, their foreheads rested against each other, and Y/n smiled, her heart full. "Thank you, Harry," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Harry smiled back, his eyes shining with affection. "Anything for you, princess."

They sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, under the lights of the lanterns, feeling more connected than ever before. In that moment, Y/n knew that with Harry by her side, she could face anything the future held.

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Requested by: Anonymous

[alyrasturnz]

can you write a wedding day for matt since mr tough guy said some fucked up things about his wedding

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎TIMELESS

❐ summary » not even the relentless march of time, with all its cruel and unyielding nature, nor the finality of death itself, could sever the bond between matt and y/n. their connection, forged in the fires of shared experiences and deep emotions, transcends the temporal constraints and the veil of mortality, standing as a testament to a love that defies the very essence of existence and eternity.

❐ pairings » husband!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » none

❐ a/n && w/c » i hate this so much😣 my writers block is eating me alive • 1.93k

as you took your father's hand, he felt the profound weight of countless years of memories and boundless love. with each step he guided you down the aisle, the echoes of time resonated deeply, marking not just the passage of moments, but the culmination of a lifetime's journey.

your heels delicately pressed upon the meticulously arranged petals that adorned the ground, each step a symphony of grace. you watched as your flower girls, having fulfilled their enchanting duty, gracefully took their seats, their presence a testament to the beauty of the moment.

the sun was setting, casting a perfect tapestry of pink and orange hues across the sky. you chose the very beach where you and matt shared your first kiss, a place imbued with the tender echoes of your love's beginning.

when you reached matt, he paused, his gaze locking deeply with yours, silently conveying a profound symphony of love and pride. in that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the unspoken bond between you, a testament to the journey you had shared and the future that lay ahead.

he then turned to matt, placing your hand into his with a firm yet tender grip, a gesture that carried the weight of countless unspoken words. "take care of her," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, resonating with the depth of a father's love and the gravity of entrusting his most precious treasure.

a hush fell over the gathered crowd as matt’s eyes, brimming with a mixture of love and awe, met yours. your father, with a tender smile and perhaps a glimmer of a tear, stepped back, entrusting you, his precious daughter, to the man you had chosen. the weight of the moment hung in the air, a silent testament to the bonds of love and trust that had brought you to this juncture.

the officiant smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling with the gravity of the moment, as he began the ceremony. "dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the sacred union of matthew sturniolo and y/n l/n in holy matrimony," he intoned, his voice carrying the weight of tradition and the promise of a shared future.

"today, we celebrate love, commitment, and the beautiful journey that matthew and y/n are about to embark upon together," the officiant stated, his voice imbued with reverence and joy, as he acknowledged the profound significance of the vows about to be exchanged.

"and now, we will have a reading from nick sturniolo, who will share a passage that holds special meaning for matthew and y/n," he said, as nick walked up with a small, tear-stained smile on his face, the weight of his emotions evident in his every step.

nick takes a deep breath, steadying himself as he prepares to speak. "in the grand tapestry of life, there are threads that shine brighter than others. these threads are woven with love, trust, and shared dreams. today, we celebrate the union of two souls whose threads have intertwined, creating a pattern of beauty and strength. as they walk this path together, may they find joy in the simple moments, courage in the face of challenges, and a love that grows deeper with each passing day," he said, his voice laden with emotion. the crowd erupted in applause, their clapping echoing through the room as nick, his cheeks still glistening with tears, took a moment to compose himself.

with a small, heartfelt smile, he nodded to the couple before making his way back to his seat, each step measured and deliberate, the weight of the moment settling upon him.

your eyes welled with tears, the emotion swelling within you until it could no longer be contained. the tears found their way down your cheeks, tracing a path of raw, unfiltered sentiment, each droplet a testament to the depth of feeling that coursed through you in that poignant moment.

if someone had approached your younger self and foretold that you would one day stand here, side by side with matthew sturniolo, you would have scoffed at the notion. with a dismissive wave, you would have told them to kick rocks, utterly incredulous at the idea. the very thought would have seemed so far-fetched, so beyond the realm of possibility, that you would have dismissed it as nothing more than a fanciful tale. yet, here you are, defying the expectations of that younger self, living a reality that once seemed impossible.

"matthew and y/n, please join hands and exchange your vows," the officiant intoned, their voice a gentle command that pierced through the fog of your reverie, snapping you back to the present moment.

you lift your gaze to meet matt's, his eyes brimming with unspoken emotion. as you place your hands within his, the weight of the moment settles upon you, each touch a silent promise of the journey you are about to embark upon together.

"y/n, from the very first moment our eyes met, i felt an unspoken connection, a bond that transcends time and space. you are my anchor in the storm, my sanctuary, and the most precious gift life has bestowed upon me. your unwavering kindness, your boundless strength, and your infinite love have taught me what it truly means to be loved unconditionally. today, i pledge to be your steadfast partner, to stand by your side through every joy and every trial. i vow to share in your laughter, to soothe your tears, and to walk with you through every chapter of our lives. our story began the very second i found you on the swings when we were little, and from that moment, i knew you were destined to be a part of my life. you are not just my best friend or my soulmate; you are the very heartbeat of my existence. as we journey together, may our love be the eternal flame that guides us, illuminating our path and warming our hearts. with you, i have found my true home, my forever. and even when our earthly journey ends, not even death can do us part. i will find you in another life, for our souls are eternally intertwined. i will love you farther than the point when our bodies decay, for our love transcends the physical realm. with you, i am home," matt said, his voice cracking every now and then, each word laden with emotion. you let out a soft giggle, closing your eyes with a smile, feeling the weight of his words settle deep within your heart.

"in another life, you still would have turned my head. from the moment our eyes met, i knew my heart had found its eternal home. life is far too fleeting to love you in just one lifetime, so i vow to seek you out in all my other existences, to cherish every moment we share. from that first glance, my soul recognized yours, as if we were two halves of a whole finally reunited. your presence bestows upon me a sense of peace and completeness i had never known before. each day with you is a blessing, and i am endlessly grateful for the love we share. i pledge to stand by your side, through every joy and every challenge. i promise to be your rock, your confidant, and your greatest supporter. our love is a timeless melody, and i am grateful for every note we compose together. together, we will weather the storms and bask in the sunshine, knowing that our bond grows stronger with each passing day. with this ring, i pledge my eternal love, my unwavering commitment, and my deepest respect. for in every lifetime, in every era, it has always been you. you are my past, my present, and my future, and i will cherish you always, with every beat of my heart," you respond, your voice brimming with an emotion you never knew existed, every word resonating with the depth of your love. your hands tremble slightly as you reach out, gently clasping their fingers, feeling the warmth of their skin against yours.

your eyes lock, and in that instant, the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you standing in the timeless moment. a tear escapes, tracing a path down your cheek, embodying the profound connection you share.

matt's smile was a tender curve of reassurance, a silent promise that echoed in the quiet space between you. he gently disengaged your hands, the brief separation a whisper of cool air against your skin. his hand ascended with deliberate grace, each movement a delicate choreography of care. he cupped your face with a reverence that spoke volumes, his thumb tracing the path of your tears with an almost sacred tenderness.

the touch was more than just skin against skin; it was a balm for your soul, a wordless vow of unwavering support. after wiping away the remnants of your sorrow, he reclaimed your hand, the reconnection a reaffirmation of the bond that anchored you both.

"might i request the rings now?" the officiant intoned, his voice a blend of solemnity and anticipation. madi and chris approached with measured steps, their movements imbued with the gravity of the moment, the air thick with the weight of unspoken vows about to be sealed.

madi and chris, their faces awash with emotion, gently placed the rings into the officiant's waiting hand. as they turned to walk away, tears cascaded down their cheeks, each drop a testament to the profound significance of the moment.

"these rings stand as eternal emblems of your unwavering love and commitment," the officiant proclaimed, his voice resonating with solemnity. "matthew, please take the ring and place it upon y/n's finger, repeating after me." as he handed the ring to matthew, the moment seemed to crystallize.

"with this ring, i thee wed," matthew intoned, his words a binding promise woven into the fabric of their shared future. a gentle smile curved on his lips, a tender expression that spoke volumes, as he carefully slid the ring onto your finger.

"y/n, please take the ring and place it upon matthew's finger, repeating after me," the officiant instructed, his voice imbued with a solemn gravity. as he handed the ring to you, the atmosphere seemed to thicken with anticipation.

"with this ring, i thee wed," you echoed, your voice carrying the weight of a timeless vow. you lift your gaze to meet matt's eyes, a profound connection shimmering between you, as you delicately slide the ring onto his finger.

the officiant gazes at the both of you with a gentle, knowing smile. "by the power vested in me," he intones with a voice rich in solemnity, "i now pronounce you husband and wife. you may kiss the bride."

you gaze at matt with a radiant smile, your eyes locking in a moment of profound connection. slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his presence enveloping you. his hands, gentle yet firm, find their way around your waist, pulling you ever closer.

as your lips meet in a tender, heartfelt kiss, the world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this sacred moment. tears of joy cascade down your cheeks, mingling together in a shared expression of overwhelming emotion.

the crowd, witnessing this beautiful union, erupts in a symphony of applause, their claps echoing the joyous celebration of your love. amidst the applause, you feel the weight of this moment, a culmination of your journey together, filled with trials and triumphs, now sealed with a kiss that speaks of a future bound by love and understanding.

[xtra7s]

Well, since we know her iconic SNL performance (which was on loop) how would r react. Cause like I'm in love with herrrr. It could be like a live reaction or they are live and fans requested for a reaction vid

(Just a gay thought)

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋: 𝐒𝐍𝐋 ─── 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Y/N watches Renee preform on SNL.

Content: Renee Rapp x Fem!Reader, literally just Y/N swooning over Renee as she preforms, complete fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

masterlist | first part | second part | third part

a/n: I LOVED WRITING THIS, I added Snow Angel too because I felt like it was too short with just Not My Fault. Hope you enjoy!!

The stage lights bathed Renee Rapp in a warm glow as she took center stage on Saturday Night Live. The hushed anticipation in the studio was palpable, but amidst the cheering crowd, Y/N sat, fidgeting with nervous excitement. It was a secret thrill, knowing that the woman who held her heart was about to captivate the world.

Jacob Elordi was on stage, smiling widely as he introduced Renee. "Ladies and gentlemen, Renee Rapp!"

The stage was set in a soft, ethereal light as Renee Rapp prepared to perform "Snow Angel" on Saturday Night Live. The melancholic notes of the piano filled the studio, creating an atmosphere of haunting beauty. The audience hushed in anticipation as Renee lay on the stage floor, an ethereal figure amidst the gentle glow.

Y/N, seated amidst the crowd, watched with bated breath. As the first lines of the sorrowful ballad left Renee's lips, a wave of emotion washed over the audience. Renee's voice, rich with emotion, painted a poignant picture of heartache and longing. The harmonies join her as she sings, and Y/N finds herself captivated, unable to tear her gaze away from the captivating performance unfolding before her.

Renee's form on the ground seemed to embody the weight of the song's melancholy. The vulnerability in her voice resonated, and Y/N felt a deep connection to the emotions conveyed. The crowd sat in rapt silence, collectively holding their breath, as Renee lay there, pouring her heart into each delicate lyric.

More instruments joined the song, Renee standing up from the floor as the song swelled. The melancholy tones transitioned into a powerful crescendo, and the studio transformed into a sea of emotions. Y/N, now on the edge of her seat, felt a lump forming in her throat. The raw intensity of the performance left her in awe, a silent witness to the soul-baring artistry on display.

As Renee's voice soared through the studio, Y/N couldn't help but feel a deep admiration for the vulnerability and strength intertwined in the performance. It was a heartbreaking and beautiful symphony, and Y/N found herself lost in the haunting melody, her emotions mirroring the raw intensity and flow of the song.

When the final note hung in the air, the studio erupted into applause. Y/N joined in, her admiration for Renee's talent mingling with a profound sense of connection. As Renee smiled and the lights dimmed, she spun around and applauded the people playing the instruments to her song. Y/N couldn't shake the lingering impact of the song, grateful to have been present for a performance that transcended the stage and touched the depths of her soul.

After a short break, Jacob Elordi hosting and speaking, Rachel McAdams Walks on stage, smiling at the applause before gesturing her hands up.

"Ladies and gentlemen, once again, Renee Rapp!" She speaks loudly, gesturing her arms to the stage Renee is standing on top of.

The first notes of "Not My Fault" begin to float through the air, and Y/N's gaze is fixed on Renee. The way she was dancing, the raw power in her voice, the way she effortlessly commanded the stage, left Y/N breathless. Each lyric that came from her mouth had Y/N squirming in her seat. The crowd responded with thunderous applause, but for Y/N, it was a personal serenade, an intimate connection she could only share in secret.

"god damn, she looks so good I could die," Y/N murmurs under her breath, sitting up and adjusting in her seat.

As the song continued, Renee's stage presence intensified, her magnetic energy filling the room. Y/N couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion, pride, and an ache in her chest from the sheer brilliance of the performance. It was a potent mix of love and admiration, leaving her utterly flustered in the midst of the electrifying moment.

The entire time Renee has been singing, Y/N's eyes have been drifting down her neck to her stomach, her cheeks covered in a maroon shade as she takes in Renee's outfit. 

she has too much trust in that top.

Renee does a little dance as she sings with the backup dancers, getting to Y/N's favorite part. "Get her number, get her name, get a good thing while you can. Kiss a blonde, kiss a friend, can a gay girl get an amen?"

Y/N was immediately standing as she watched this, yelling out amen after Renee sang that part. Renee notices her in the crowd beyond the blinding lights and sends a wink her way.

The cake begins to spin around as Renee is singing, revealing Megan Thee Stallion as she raps her part of the song. Renee does a little dance in front of Megan as she sings, them both going into sync as they do their choreography. Renee sticks her tongue out while she smiles, making the cheers louder around Y/N.

Renee dances with her hands in the air and does a body roll as Megan sings, pulling her mic back to her face and singing again. It's short-lived as the song is getting to an end, Megan speaking into her mic. "What's up SNL??!" The cheers get louder as she does, Renee joining in. "Give it up for Megan Thee Stallion!!" She yells into the mic, jokingly twerking for a second before jumping back into the end of the song, "It's not my fault you're like in love with me." She sings as she gets closer to Megan, turning her head to smile at her. "You're like in love with me."

When the final notes hung in the air, the applause was deafening. Y/N joined in, clapping enthusiastically, but her eyes never left Renee. The stage seemed to shimmer around her secret girlfriend, a beacon of talent and passion that left Y/N in awe.

As Renee laughed with Megan and then hugged her, waving to the stage before rushing off stage the applause echoed, and Y/N couldn't suppress the giddy smile that spread across her face. She had witnessed something extraordinary, something incredibly sexy and beautiful, and it filled her with a warmth that lingered long after the lights dimmed. In the secrecy of the crowd, Y/N reveled in the magic of being in love with a woman who could command a stage with such brilliance, all while keeping their connection hidden like a precious secret between the notes of a song.

[b0r3dtod3ath]

ooh can i request you being ben shelton’s gf and watching one of his games (and maybe your not famous at all) and idk maybe he does something or u do something that kinda outs u as a couple

sorry if this is vague, i love ur stories:)

an: Thank you for the message! Omg someone loves my stories! I'm happy you like them. Also from this place I wanna express my appreciation for each one of you. Messages from my readers always make my day! Anyway, here's what I came up with.

One of the challenges you faced together while dating Ben was keeping the relationship private. You were not used to the amount of attention the rising star of tennis got. 

It was a big day for the both of you. Ben was playing in an important match, and you sat in his box, a few rows back from the court. It was the first tournament you had joined him. You were nervous, but also incredibly proud of him. You wore a simple outfit and a baseball cap, hoping to blend in with the crowd and not draw too much attention. You watched him in awe, noticed all the changes - his eyes fierce, expression confident but still focused and almost stone cold - it was in stark contrast to his softer side that you experienced almost everyday. Each powerful serve and strategic play had the crowd on their feet, cheering him on. You were so engrossed in the game that you didn’t notice the cameras occasionally panning to the crowd, capturing the excitement of the spectators. During the most intense exchanges during the match you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

When Ben hit a stunning winner ace, the crowd erupted in applause. Without thinking, you jumped up from your seat, cheering and clapping enthusiastically. It was at that moment that he turned towards the stands, his eyes searching the crowd. He spotted you, his face breaking into a wide, triumphant smile. His softer side breaking through the hard shell built up during the match. In a spontaneous, unguarded moment, he pointed directly at you, and mouthed, “For you. I love you.”

The cameras, always quick to catch any interesting moment, zoomed in on your happily surprised expression. The commentators, noticing the exchange, began speculating about who you might be. “That’s quite a gesture,” one of them said. “It looks like Ben Shelton just dedicated that point to someone special in the audience".

After the match and the on-court interview, you walked down the stairs to get closer to Ben, ignoring the glances from the last bits of crowd. He stood on his tippy toes, pulling you into a celebratory hug. “I’m sorry if that put you in the spotlight,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “I just couldn’t help it”. Although from the outside it didn’t look like the best hug ever as his body was covered in sweat and you were standing over a meter above him, your heart still swelled with love. You smiled up at him “It’s okay,” you replied. “I’m proud to be with you, Ben”. 

With that, he kissed you softly, right there in front of fans and cameras. People that haven’t left yet erupted once again, this time in a mixture of cheers and awws. It seemed that your relationship was no longer a secret as clips of you two instantly went viral and people on twitter compared you to Romeo and Juliet on a balcony, but at that moment, you didn’t care. You were just happy to be with Ben, sharing his victory and his love.

June 7, 2024

[nahoney22]

Gonna leave this here for I completely forget. I hope you’re doing great out there and giving your all! I had a thought recently.

Do you think you can give some headcanons on the bad batch/clones of your choice react to a civilian smiling at them? Could be one person, a child, elderly person, or multiple people.

From all that war and the things they saw. Seeing a friendly face smiling at them is a rare thing these days. And it’s nice to see hope become some of a good sign to them. :)

A Smile a Day Keeps… Clones Very Happy

How each of The Bad Batch react to a civilian smiling at them.

Authors Note: I love this idea! Enjoy 🤍

Warnings: none 😊

Echo

Standing amidst the debris of a town rescued from the Empire's clutches, he felt a mix of relief and frustration. Despite the devastation, he was glad to see the civilians unharmed but bitter at the unwarranted attack.

As he kicked at the debris, Wrecker's voice broke his thoughts. Looking towards Wrecker, he noticed a young boy peeking out from behind a cracked stone pillar, stealing glances at him. “That lil guy keeps staring at you Echo.”

Concern creased Echo's brow as he observed the boy's timid demeanor. Wrecker simply suggested, "Just wave at him, crack a smile. It won’t kill ya.” before sauntering off.

With a sigh, Echo gave a hesitant wave. Naturally Echo was uncomfortable, wondering if the boy was staring at his prosthetics but then, the boy smiled. Bright.

The action surprised him and even more so when the boy comes from behind the pillar and bounds toward the Clone, laughing and clearly just in awe of the man.

Echo blinks, unsure what to do but manages to smile back. It was rare to see such a friendly response from someone, especially recently. But, it made him feel good. Proud.

Hunter

Amidst the bustling streets of Coruscant teeming with people, accidents were inevitable—collisions, stumbling over obstacles, and more. Fortunately, Hunter found himself in the right place at the right time.

Accompanied by his squad, their duty was to uphold order among the civilians. Amidst their patrol, Hunter spotted an elderly lady struggling under the weight of numerous boxes, obstructing her view.

Despite the importance of their mission, Hunter's gut and sense of compassion propelled him into action. He silently slipped away from his group and approached the lady.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" His voice cut through the clamor, positioning himself to catch her attention. "Do you need help?"

The lady's face lit up with gratitude, momentarily surprising Hunter. Nevertheless, he quickly refocused, ready to lend a helping hand as she accepted his offer.

As the boxes were safely delivered, the lady turned to Hunter with a radiant smile, a rarity for some Clones to witness. "Thank you, sir. You're a good man," she beamed, reaching for her pocket to retrieve some credits as a token of her appreciation.

However, Hunter swiftly intervened, shaking his head. "Oh, that's okay. No payment needed.”

Perhaps her smile and gratitude were reward enough for the day.

Wrecker

Wrecker, typically exuded a menacing aura solely through his appearance to onlookers so a smile graced at him was quite rare. However, when chaos unfolded with the crash of speeders and vessels before him, he wasted no time in springing into action.

Amidst the wreckage, a man trapped beneath the debris cried out for help, but attempts to free him proved futile to passer-by’s.

Enter Wrecker.

"Step aside, everyone," his commanding voice cut through the chaos as he advanced. With remarkable swiftness and strength, he effortlessly lifted the wreckage off the trapped man as though it weighed nothing at all.

Initially met with shock and even a hint of disturbance from onlookers, their unease quickly transformed into applause—a collective expression of gratitude toward Wrecker for his heroic act. As the applause filled the air, Wrecker scanned the crowd, initially puzzled by the sudden acclaim. However, as realisation dawned upon him that the applause, cheers and smiles was directed at him, a swell of pride washed over him.

Rarely did anyone smile at him, let alone offer thanks, but in that moment, the gratitude of the crowd was enough to make his eyes glisten.

Tech

"Can we look at your armour, sir?"

Tech glanced up from his data pad, surprised by the small voice beside him. Two children stood there, their eyes wide with fascination.

"Why would you want to do that?" he asked, his tone tinged with skepticism as he observed their approach toward his comm.

"Because you look so cool!" one of the children exclaimed, their excitement palpable. Tech couldn't help but feel a hint of confusion, unaccustomed to such admiration for his armor or himself.

"It's not cool, it's practical," he replied matter-of-factly, before finding himself kneeling down to their eye level and reluctantly removing his armor. "You may look at my helmet, but I shall need it back soon."

The children exchanged gleeful glances before eagerly inspecting the helmet in their hands. Tech watched them with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, a small smile forming on his lips as they marveled at the technology.

Such admiration for clones was a rarity, but seeing the genuine excitement in the children's eyes filled Tech with an unexpected sense of pride. As he began to explain the functions of his armour, he couldn't help but feel a connection to these young admirers, appreciating their genuine interest in his expertise.

Crosshair

Talk about being in the right place at the right time.

Crosshair strolled down a bustling street, seeking respite from the chaos aboard the ship when his sharp eyes caught sight of a frail-looking lady who appeared lost.

Initially hesitant, he debated whether she could manage on her own. Yet, with no squad mates around to mock him, he decided to offer his assistance.

"Are you lost?" His voice startled the woman, eliciting a surprised yelp. She turned to him, explaining that she had taken a wrong turn.

"Do you want me to take you there?" he offered, looking down at her.

"Oh, that would be kind! Thank you," she replied gratefully.

Crosshair guided her in the right direction, feeling slightly uncomfortable as she gripped his arm for support. Despite his reservations, he allowed it.

Upon reaching her destination, Crosshair was taken aback as she affectionately pinched his cheek with a smile. "You are a nice man, thank you, sir."

The rare gesture caught Crosshair off guard, stirring something within him. As he watched the lady walk away, her smile lingering in his mind, he couldn't deny the warmth it brought to his otherwise stoic demeanor. It was a fleeting moment, yet it left an unexpected impression on him, reminding him that kindness could be found even in the most unlikely of places.

Masterlist

Requests Currently Open

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone e @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd @thiswitchloves9904

[httpsdana]

Could you do pau x Olympic gymnast reader fluff? Could she also be Brazilian plsss

Thank you!

Gold for Gold~Pau Cubarsi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

The crowd in the arena roared as y/n stood at the edge of the balance beam, her heart pounding in time with the cheers. The Brazilian flag waved in every corner, and she took a deep breath, centering herself. Out of all the faces in the audience, her eyes found Pau, sitting near the front row, his hands gripping the railing tightly, his expression a mixture of nerves and awe.

He caught her gaze and mouthed "You’ve got this"

And she believed him.

The routine felt like a dream. Every flip, leap, and landing came together in perfect harmony. As she stuck her dismount, the applause was deafening. She stood there, chest heaving, as the scoreboard updated.

15.966.

She did it.

Gold.

Her teammates swarmed her, their excitement matching her own, but her mind was elsewhere. Breaking free, she ran toward the stands, ignoring the cameras and the flashing lights. Pau was already standing, his arms wide open, and she leaped over the small barrier, landing right in his embrace.

"You did it!" he exclaimed, hugging her tightly as the crowd cheered even louder.

Tears streamed down her face as she pulled back just enough to press her lips to his, the world fading away in that moment. When she finally pulled apart, his hands cupped her face, his smile brighter than any medal.

"You’re incredible, meu amor. I’m so proud of you," he whispered.

"I couldn’t have done it without you," she replied, her fingers brushing against his jaw.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of celebrations, but as y/n fell asleep that night, Pau’s arms wrapped around her, she couldn’t stop smiling. Tomorrow, it would be his turn.

The following day, y/n sat in the stadium, nerves replacing the euphoria from her win. The Spanish flag was draped over her shoulders as she watched Pau and his teammates battle through the final match. Every pass, every shot, every save felt like a lifetime, but when the whistle blew, and the scoreboard confirmed their victory, she was on her feet, cheering louder than anyone.

Pau fell to his knees on the field, overcome with emotion, before his teammates piled on him in celebration. Her heart swelled with pride, tears gathering in her eyes as she watched him soak in the moment. But then his eyes found hers, and he broke away, running straight toward the stands.

"Pau!" she called out, leaning over the railing just as he reached her.

He jumped up, his arms wrapping around her waist as she leaned down to meet him. His lips crashed against hers, his sweat-soaked jersey and the salty tang of his tears making the moment raw and real.

"You’re a champion," she whispered against his lips, her fingers threading through his damp hair.

"And so are you," he replied, his forehead resting against her. "Gold for gold, yeah?"

She laughed softly, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "Gold for gold."

The cameras captured the moment, but neither of them cared. This was for her and him—a promise fulfilled, a dream realized, and a love that shone brighter than the medals around their necks.

[dearanakin]

I will be your fool

Summary: You are friends with Steve, who is about to perform for the very first time. You find yourself feeling jealous of him, not knowing he has a hold of you. He wrote "Fool" when he was thinking about you, though.

Note: This is based on DJO. I might have been obsessing over him and his music lately.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, unprotected sex. p in v. oral sex (f receiving) + 18 DNI

Word count: 2.6k

Sitting next to Robin at The Hideout, you both watch as Steve rehearsed for his first concert. After graduating, he decided to devote himself to a musical career.

He adopted the alter ego "STV" (Steve, but without the vowels) and formed an indie band that gained notoriety before their first official concert. He even decided to use another persona as well.

Steve was being supported by Eddie, because the metalhead was part of a band that had performed at the same venue.

He was sitting on the edge of the stage, strumming a few notes of his song "Climax".

As you and Robin sat on the chairs near the stage, you watched him intently.

"How's the sound over there?" he asked, waiting for feedback from both of you.

Robin gave him a thumbs up.

"Terrible, this is awful. It sounds like a cat being beaten" You replied, laughing as you watched him flip you the middle finger.

"Remind me to never call you to a rehearsal again, jerk" He replied.

The three of you laughed, and not long after he finished the rehearsal, he approached the two of you. Steve was sipping water from a bottle after coming down from the stage.

"So, overall?" he nervously asked. It was no surprise; it would be his first performance.

You and your friend smiled at each other; it was just what he needed.

"That's great, dingus. You're going to do great!" She squeezed her friend's shoulder, her smile wide and open.

He looked at you, waiting for your answer.

"She's right, it's gonna work out!" You smiled too. Steve let out a sigh of relief.

He rehearsed with his bandmates before setting up the stage for the big moment.

Eddie came later on to offer his friend advice and moral support. As a veteran of the place, he found it easier to deal with moments like that.

Besides Robin, your group of friends were there, including Dustin who wouldn't miss the performance of one of his best friends.

Steve had asked both of you to stand on the side of the stage, but you both decided to watch him from the crowd instead so that he could look at you both and feel less nervous.

When the band was announced, everyone applauded including the students from Hawkins High. He showed up in a white jumpsuit, Nike sneakers, a wig, a questionable mustache, and sunglasses.

The resemblance to Steve was almost imperceptible, except for the voice.

The band started the concert with "I Want Your Video". It was the first time you heard him play his music live. He wanted to leave the "first-time" experience as a surprise.

As the first two songs came to an end, more people started to arrive at the venue. The room was filled with the sound of applause, and Steve had a smile on his face. You could tell he had been looking at you and your group of friends for the entire time.

His music had a hint of psychedelia along with synth instrumentals, auto-tune, and drone chords.

You couldn't resist when your friend sang "Go For It." His voice was admired by you and many girls. But something unrecognizable bothered you. Was it jealousy?

Were you jealous of having to "share" your friend with other girls?

Robin was the only one who knew that "Fool" had a meaning for him, especially after he dedicated it to her.

Steve moved closer to the microphone as "Figure You Out" began to play.

"This is for my dear friend, Y/N. Thank you so much for helping me with this song" He crouched in front of you and handed you the guitar pick he used during the entire concert.

He stood up and grabbed another guitar pick from the mic stand. Your friends were elated and may have commented about it, but you were caught off guard.

Robin sang along to the song with her arm wrapped around your neck. At that moment, you tried to pay attention to the rest of the concert, but his words lingered in your mind.

Deep down, something between the two of you was different, but you never really realized it before. Maybe you needed to find out about it later. 

Steve's husky voice brought a unique essence to his brilliant performance, surprising the crowd with his guitar solos. He was completely ecstatic with the audience's reception.

It seemed like the concert had gone well, as the band received a standing ovation at the end, while Eddie celebrated his friend's success from the corner of the stage.

Steve had already changed his clothes and removed his wig and mustache before arriving at the bar. As soon as he got there, he was surrounded by his friends who hugged him and touched him everywhere. The amount of affection he received caused his hair to tangle.

As he approached you and Robin, he wrapped both arms around both of you and pulled you both in for a hug. It was surprising how the combination of his sweat and cologne made you feel dizzy.

Your nose was pressed against his neck, breathing in his scent.

"Holy shit, dingus! That was amazing!" She celebrated as soon as she let go of her friend's arms.

"Steve, you definitely killed it!" Your voice was a little slurred. Clearing your throat, you disguised so he wouldn't notice.

The boy was smiling too much, he was happy and proud of himself.

Before letting him respond, you narrowed your eyes and sipped your drink. "What's that about me helping you with your music?"

He widened his eyes, taken aback, and looked at his friend in confusion. She shrugged and muttered, "I'll leave you two alone."

He cleared his throat, fixed his hair, and then looked at you.

"I'll tell you later. There's a lot of noise here, a lot of people. I prefer a quieter place," he explained, turning to ask the bartender for a beer.

Steve looked at you again, smiling, and you nodded.

After he was greeted by your group of friends, no one else welcomed him besides a blonde girl who seemed to be overly intrigued. She examined him from top to bottom and even went as far as kissing him on the cheek.

You kept your eyes on her as she whispered something in his ear.

He could talk to anyone, but why did it affect you? No clear explanation.

The two of them talked for about a minute, then she gave him a subtle smile and left.

Steve turned around and downed the beer, causing you to raise your eyebrow. You waited for your friend to explain, but all he did was laugh and lower his head. "What is it, Harrington?"

He looked provocative as he said, "You can't hide it, can you?" The boy left his beer on the bar counter and approached you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hide what, Steve?” You held your own breath as you saw him get closer.

He leaned in close to your ear and whispered, "You feel jealous when someone gets close."

You tried to steady yourself on the stool, feeling your legs wobble. "Me, jealous of you, Steve? We're friends," you said.

It was clear that Steve had a hold on you, as you felt repulsed by any girl who came too close. Despite your efforts to resist, he laughed in your ear, causing the hairs on your body to stand on end. You couldn't help but feel weak for him.

As he placed his large hand on your face, you could feel the roughness of his calloused fingers, a result of his guitar playing.

The sensation heightened your senses, and your body was filled with restlessness. "We are friends, but why do our bodies seem to crave each other's touch?" He traced his lips down your cheek until he reached your mouth.

It didn't take long for you to respond and he kissed you passionately.

His tongue hits yours with pressure and need, pulling your body closer, like a magnet. Your hands wrapped around his neck and Steve pulled you by the waist with his other hand.

The background music and the noise of people talking seemed to fade away, and time appeared to stand still at that moment.

The way he held you showed his desperation for you, but the kiss remained gentle and calm. He held your lip between his teeth, causing a muffled moan to escape from your mouth.

You abandoned your friends back at the venue and arrived at Steve's house. The idea to go there was yours, not his. Steve insisted that he wouldn't do anything without your consent, which triggered a strong reaction inside you.

As soon as you got inside his bedroom, he pushed you towards his mattress and watched as you fell with bliss in your eyes. He laid on top of you, spreading kisses all over your neck, both of his hands wandering through your exposed skin.

His rough fingers were pressing against your thighs as he rode up the hem of your dress a little.

“God, I’ve been expecting this for so long” He grumbled against your chest. You were quickly panting as you could barely control your breathing.

Steve quickly spread both of your legs, pulling a sigh from your throat. He used both hands to remove the piece of lace panties that matched the color of your dress: black. The boy kissed your breasts covered in fabric and your stomach. 

When he got close to your cunt, he looked at you with lust. Your eyes glistened as you looked at him. You lay down, and he pulled you to the edge of the bed, still looking at you.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this” He whispered. Steve couldn't handle his own lust, but he would like to give you something he had wanted for a long time.

He gently moved your legs apart and slowly dipped his mouth into your clit, sucking lightly on your button, eliciting a grunt from your mouth. “Steve” You almost sobbed. 

The boy used the tip of his tongue through your slit, keeping his pace as he reached your hole. He licked you greedily, savoring your taste, murmuring in pleasure. It had barely started and it was already making you dizzy with so much pleasure. 

Your breathing was uneven and your legs were already weak. Steve rested one of his hands on your thigh, digging his nails into the skin, leaving marks on it. He used another hand and pressed his thumb on your clit, feeling as you arched your back.

He kept the movements light and slow, taking advantage of every inch of your skin, leaving long licks on your cunt. When you felt him insert the tip of his tongue inside you, you groaned loudly, gripping his hair.

He was going crazy as you mumbled disjointed words and rolled your hips into his face. Steve was loving it.

His finger circled against your clit, while his tongue thrust in and out of you, making you whimper. You were about to hit your orgasm if he didn't stop. Pulling the strands of his hair, you rocked your hips against him hard, and Steve got the message.

He removed himself from you, placing a light kiss on your most sensitive spot, looking back at you. His face was glistening from your juices, his lips were red and swollen, and his eyes were flickering with pleasure. 

He leaned forward for a more intense kiss, swirling his tongue against yours, teeth clashing with yours. With one hand, he pulled the strap of your dress down, watching your breasts bounce out. Still kissing you, he cupped one of your tits with his hand and rubbed your nipple. 

The kiss started to get sloppy as soon as you started moaning against his mouth and Steve undressed quickly, getting rid of his boxers soon after. He really wanted to fuck you, but you took his cock with your delicate hand, pumping him with lust.

The tip of his cock was already red and swollen, practically leaking with precum. You spread it all over his length, until you reached the base. Steve grunted into the kiss and you smirked against his mouth. It felt good to be the one in control. 

But he couldn't take it anymore so he broke the contact, leaving you on all fours for him. You looked over your shoulder to glance at him and you felt a knot in your stomach. This had become a moment of lubrication you both wanted to enjoy. 

He arranged himself behind you, resting one hand on his cock, while the other rested on your ass. Steve slid his shaft in a slow, painful motion across your clit before burying his length inside you. 

You both hissed when you felt each other. He was thick, and you were too tight. The sensation sent Steve into a frenzy as he thrust further in and hit your cervix. “Holy shit, you’re so tight. And so wet” He murmured. 

You felt his balls hit your ass and you rolled against his dick, watching him twitch with excitement. You rolled your eyes at the sight. 

As soon as he settled inside you, Steve began to thrust hard and fast, gripping the bands of your ass with his calloused hands. The air in the room was thin, stuffy, and your moans were echoing in sync. 

“Yes, Steve” You whimpered, feeling the tip of his cock hit against your most sensitive spot.

He murmured disjointed words while resting his body on your back. He kept his chin resting on your shoulder as you felt his breath hit your ear.

Yes, it was the most exciting thing you had ever felt in your entire life.

“You’re all wet for me, aren’t you?” He whispered and you couldn't reason out a response. “God, your pussy is taking me so well.”

You didn’t have time to rest your elbows on the mattress as Steve used two fingers to rub your clit.

In an involuntary movement, you rolled faster against him, trying to feel his entire length inside you. Your head was down, also resting on the mattress. You could barely breathe.

“Fuck-” He growled into your ear and your stomach sinked. The more his dick pounded inside you, the more your skin burned with desire for him.

His fingers’ moves became faster, your body responded too well to his touch. A shiver ran through your body, before the orgasm hit you. Your fingers curled, your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, and your breath hitched. 

He pounded against your cervix until you came for him and moaned his name.

Soon after, he collapsed on top of you, reaching his own orgasm, cumming inside you. His warm liquid enveloped your hole completely, as you felt his cock pulse inside you in a moment of pure ecstasy.

After you both cleaned up, he lay down next to you, wearing comfortable sweatpants. It was the first time you were staring at his naked body like that, and the countless moles spread across his skin were irresistible.

As Steve leaned against the headboard of the bed, he gazed at you with tenderness, softly stroking your face.

"I mentioned that song earlier because, at different times, you've helped me figure out who I really am," he explained.

You repeated his gesture and rested a hand on his chest. "Steve Harrington, you are wonderful."

He smiled at the compliment, pulling your body closer to his. “I will be your fool” He hummed, watching you look at him curiously.

“Steve…” You started to speak and he kissed the top of your head. "You don't…"

He shrugged, not caring if you knew you inspired his song.

“You never stop looking at me anyway” Steve continued, ignoring your surprised face. He pulled you into another kiss, this time it was more tender.

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 10: Pride

Word Count: 998

Rating: G

Pairing: None

CW: Language

Summary: Corroded Coffin plays a gig at a fundraiser in Hawkins and Eddie understands what it's like to really make it. Part of my As You Wish universe!

@corrodedcoffinfest

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Jesus, have we ever played in front of this many people before?” Gareth asks as he shakes out his wrists to loosen them up. 

“Have we ever performed in front of kids before?” Jeff questions in response.

“Have you guys ever played in front of your own kids?” Frank follows up, being the only one in the band who doesn’t have any children yet. 

“Not like this,” Eddie says, fiddling with the knobs on an amp. 

Somewhere out in the crowd of around two hundred are Ryan and Luke, anxiously awaiting their father’s rock star moment. They’re standing somewhere with Brittany and Wayne, and more than likely, Gareth’s and Jeff’s families too. 

At first, Eddie was surprised that Brittany actually followed through on this event and didn’t invent a last minute excuse. But then it occurred to him—this is a family event, this fundraiser for the Hawkins Police Department. If she didn’t show up, then it wouldn’t look like the Munsons are the idyllic white-picket-fence family that Brittany likes to pretend they are to those who don’t know any differently. 

Brittany probably felt obligated the moment Jeff’s wife Nicole, an officer with the Hawkins PD, asked Corroded Coffin if they’d perform at the fundraiser. Eddie wasn’t dumb enough to believe she was here out of the goodness of her heart or because she wanted to see her husband play music onstage. 

“I can’t believe after all the times I had to deal with you guys as punk kids, I’m now about to introduce your band onstage.” Chief Hopper shakes his head and tosses his stub of a cigarette down on the ground, the toe of his boot digging the bud into the dirt. 

“Aw, come on, Hop,” Gareth says, letting his hand land heavily on the taller man’s shoulder. “It was just a few noise complaints when our rehearsals went on too long.”

Hopper flicks the brim of his hat up and raises his eyebrows at the drummer.

“Yeah, with you. Caught Dawson here speeding almost every other week,” the police chief says, nodding towards Frank. “And Munson…well, shit, there’s not enough time before you guys are due on stage for me to get into that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie mumbles, a small smile on his lips, “Jeff’s the golden boy. Still is.”

“That’s because his wife has a gun,” Gareth stage whispers, making Frank and Eddie laugh. 

The applause coming from the crowd out front signals that whoever was entertaining them has finished, meaning the guys are up. 

“Ready boys?” Hopper asks, looking around at the band members. Once he’s satisfied with their nods of confirmation, he heads out onto the stage to make the introduction. 

Feedback crackles before the chief’s deep voice booms over the speakers.

“Up next, we’ve got a band that’s been playing together in Hawkins for well over a decade now. You may recognize them from The Hideout or have even called into the station with a noise complaint about them.” There’s a rumble of laughter from the audience. “And one of the members is married to our very own Officer Nicole Samuels. Please welcome, Corroded Coffin.”

Hearing their band’s name being announced still gives Eddie a thrill, the blood in his veins buzzing with excitement, even after all this time. 

The moment his boots hit the stage, Eddie can hear two particular cheers above all others.

“Yeeeeeah! Corroded Coffin!”

“Yay, Daddy! Go Daddy!”

It’s by far the best welcome he’s ever gotten whilst making an entrance. 

As Eddie adjusts the microphone at the front of the stage, his eyes scan the crowd, and he sees a cluster of familiar faces. Two with extra enthusiasm make his mouth spread into a wide grin. 

Ryan is sitting on Wayne’s shoulders, small black Corroded Coffin t-shirt on, throwing his fists in the air and cheering for his father. Luke is in Brittany’s arms, squirming around like crazy as he waves to Eddie on stage. To Brittany’s credit, she’s grimacing against all the movement Luke is doing, but she’s still holding him up so he can see.

Around them are the other guys’ families, along with Steve, Nancy, Max, and Lucas. 

Eddie gives a wave to his boys as his bandmates get situated behind him. It’s impossible to wipe the smile off his face as he takes everything in: being back on stage, having a crowd of more than five, most of them actually sober, and having so many people he cares about in the audience. Especially his sons.

A surge of warmth crashes over Eddie and he can’t explain it any other way than pure happiness and pride. 

“Hello, Hawkins,” Eddie says into the mic, receiving another round of applause in response. “How we doing tonight?”

“GOOD!” 

Luke’s sweet, loud voice echoes above everyone else’s and Eddie can’t help but chuckle into the mic.

“We’re Corroded Coffin and we hope you’re ready to have some fun.”

They open with Metallica’s version of Whiskey in the Jar. It’s his boys’ favorite song of the iconic band’s because of the fun lyrics that sound like nonsense when you sing along. Eddie knew right off the bat that this is the song he wanted to kick the show off with. 

As the part of the song that the boys like comes closer, Eddie finds them in the crowd and keeps his gaze locked on them.

Yeah, musha rain dum a doo, dum a da, ha, yeah

Whack for my daddy-o

Whack for my daddy-o

There’s whiskey in the jar, oh

The joy on Ryan and Luke’s faces brings Eddie a sense of rightness that he’s never felt before. It’s like something clicked into place within him that’s been waiting all these years to find where it belongs. 

I’ve made it, Eddie thinks to himself. Fuck a record label or a world tour. They don’t mean shit when his playing draws so much joy out of his sons. Nothing can top that. 

This is what making it feels like. 

[andy-15-07]

Night Change

masterlist ! pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

SUMMARY : When two souls become one

GENRE: fluff, loveeee

The opulent ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers and elaborate floral arrangements as Y/n descended the grand staircase, her ivory gown cascading around her like a waterfall of silk and lace. The room hushed in awe at the breathtaking sight before them. All eyes were on her as she made her way towards the altar, where Coriolanus Snow, the enigmatic and powerful leader of Panem, awaited.

Coriolanus stood at the front, dressed in a tailored suit that accentuated his authoritative presence. His steely gaze softened as he watched Y/n approach, captivated by her radiance. The air seemed to crackle with anticipation as they locked eyes, a silent promise passing between them.

The ceremony commenced with the officiant's words flowing through the air like a gentle melody. Y/n and Coriolanus exchanged vows, each word spoken with sincerity and love. As they slid the rings onto each other's fingers, a tangible connection formed, sealing their destinies together.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant declared, and a wave of applause erupted from the gathered crowd. Y/n and Coriolanus shared a tender kiss, sealing the union they had both longed for.

The reception unfolded with opulence, the ballroom transformed into a dreamscape of music, laughter, and decadent cuisine. Y/n and Coriolanus moved gracefully through the throng of guests, their connection evident in the shared glances and subtle touches that passed between them.

Amid the festivities, Y/n found a moment to steal away with her new husband to a quiet balcony overlooking the city. The night air was cool against their skin as they gazed at the sprawling lights below.

"Coriolanus," Y/n began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I never imagined I'd find myself here, married to the most powerful man in Panem."

He turned to her, a small smile playing on his lips. "And I never thought I'd find someone who could challenge me, who could understand the complexities of this world we live in."

Y/n's eyes softened as she looked into his. "I love you, Coriolanus Snow, with all that I am."

He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. "And I love you, Y/n, more than words could ever express. You are my equal, my partner in every sense."

The night continued with dancing and revelry, the couple moving effortlessly through the sea of well-wishers. Yet, amidst the celebration, a shadow of concern crossed Coriolanus's face.

"Y/n," he said, his voice low, "I know that my role in Panem has garnered its fair share of enemies. Are you prepared for the challenges that may come our way?"

She met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. "I am prepared for anything, Coriolanus. As long as we face it together."

He nodded, a mixture of gratitude and determination in his eyes. "Together, then."

The following days were a whirlwind of celebrations and newfound responsibilities. Y/n took on her role as the First Lady of Panem with grace and poise, standing by Coriolanus's side as they navigated the intricacies of political life.

Despite their united front, challenges did arise. Whispers of dissent and disapproval circulated among the Capitol elite, casting a shadow on their union. Y/n faced public scrutiny with resilience, standing firm beside her husband. Coriolanus, in turn, took decisive actions to quell the unrest, demonstrating to the Capitol that their leader's happiness was not to be trifled with.

One evening, as they strolled through the rose gardens of the Presidential Mansion, Y/n spoke softly to Coriolanus. "I never expected this life, but with you, I am willing to face whatever challenges come our way."

He took her hand, his thumb caressing her knuckles. "Y/n, you are my anchor, my source of strength. Together, we are unstoppable."

Their love story unfolded against the backdrop of political intrigue and societal expectations, a tale of two souls bound together in a world that sought to tear them apart. But through it all, Y/n and Coriolanus faced each obstacle with unwavering commitment, emerging stronger and more united than ever.

As they stood together on the balcony of the Presidential Mansion, gazing out at the Capitol skyline, they knew that their love was a force that transcended the boundaries of politics and power—a love that would endure, unyielding, against the tides of time.