#this is about jayvik and also jaymel

[rexxdjarin]

I would just like some jayce content that isn’t centered around his ship with another person please :) I feel like that’s not too much to ask lmao

I’m not a hater but like bro😭 can we let characters be individuals too please?

[letmyrighthandbeforgotten]

I think in the noxus show Mel should bring up Jayce exactly once and basically say "He died doing what he loved ... making everything about Viktor." Then move on

[nthflower]

One thing I think you guys get wrong is sky was not telling Viktor he was not going to miss their talks because it was meant nothing to him and he didn't even care about him.

It was because he was completely giving up his humanity and in the future he will have no emotions to miss sky even if he want to. He would be incapable of missing him not that he didn't even care about her????

Like am I misunderstanding or no because that was not a you don't care about me moment for me???

Sky understood what Viktor was giving up better than him to me. And let him go while reminding him what that means?

[andy-888]

Finally ppl are talking about Jayce background erasure like I feel like some arcane fans will turn a blind eye to Jayce's hardships, struggles and him in general just to lift up the other characters so much so that it's bluring him as a character. Jayce is working class, lost his father, almost died trying to reach Piltover, came from a lower house and depended on the Kiramann's money, him and his mother livehood on a tight spot. Like in the first moments we see of him are:

Him almost dying as a child

Him losing the work of a lifetime

Him being threatened to exile only saved by his mother pleads

Him almost killing himself

Even after being successful ppl kept using him as a marketing mascot and then as a political figure. Even in the council he tried to do right by Zaun and realized he shouldn't decide for Zaunites, consulted with Viktor, and even signed peace with Silco in exchange for their independence before Jinx shot the council. Btw I cannot belive there was actual discourse about Jayce shadowing Viktor during their partnership. It's crazy.

In season 2 his mistake was not letting Viktor die, a selfish action with big consequences for Viktor. He then gets absorbed into the arcane going through literal hell and becoming disabled himself. The fandom was so fast to turn on him when he shot Viktor even seeing his state and when it's demonstrated he was right it was like "eh whatever" bc I do think some ppl like Jayvik but not Jayce. Also I think he was right about being angry at Mel for using him, but he could never hate her and he keeps supporting her bc they did love each other in the end.

My hot take is that Jayce tried as hard as characters like Ekko, the difference is that Ekko wasn't put in the spot of making political decision that he was not prepared for, he was not played like a puppet unlike Jayce. He just don't get the recognition bc there are huge biases in the fandom and Jayce ends up reduced to a himbo/pretty face that is naive, the smiley guy who doesn't get it and is always wrong. Even CL (ew) says he was just the face of hextech as if he wasn't the one who created the theory and idea.

As a last note, I don't think ppl treat Jayce's sequels from the arcane seriously like his leg, ptsd, etc. I feel like I hardly seen it reflected in fanfiction or fanart. I think it would really nice to make more deep dives at this character that seems simple on the surface, but has a lot going on.

Anyways end of rant I needed to get it off my system.

And just in case this isn't hate towards any ship or character I genuinely don't think I hate anyone on the show lmao Perhaps Maddie. Good riddance.

[lemongogo]

is this the part where i say i like jaymel . bc i do

[world-class-curiosity]

my mom is a jaymel hater lmaooo

she is also a diehard caitvi shipper. literally as theyre about to head into zaun for the first time she goes “are they gonna be girlfriends?”

in conclusion: my mom says “fuck the straights, these bitches gay, good for them”

[allegorism]

arcane is a show about complex dynamics, how nothing is just black or white, and how fucked up some relationships come to be even when both parts have the intention to remain together, and yet everyone decided that mel was "just manipulating jayce" and "didn't actually love him", because she was "in the way of jayvik" when the dynamic between the three of them represents one of the core themes of arcane...

[itsbeenliketenyearsitsprettywild]

on tag responses and reply trains or: "click the readmore for my analysis of the the (mostly) Greek love terms that sum up jayvik and jaymel and also at some point i forget how to shut the fuck up and turn this into what might as well be a thesis paper on jaymel as a duo and How Mel Is Dedicated To Jayce Her Own Way"

starting from op @aurieeeeeenyx's tags that got me thinking:

#you mightve guessed that ive been listening to the hadestown soundtrack again recently#but anyways. jayce going back over and over and failing in timeline after timeline in the hopes that maybe this time. maybe just this once#he'll succeed and get his partner back#viktor putting the whole of his faith and trust in jayce that jayce will come back for him even though he fails again and again#but still viktor cannot imagine not believing in jayce one more time#the way the entire universe hangs in the balance of their bond oh man#i feel like jayvik is beyond categorization they're like the peak of classical romance which is not necessarily kisses and dating etc#but like the purest form of intimacy and affection. or something#i should write a fic abt this#anyways . idk . im a big fan of meljayvik so mel fits in here SOMEWHERE i just havent figured it out yet#if you made it to the bottom of this wall of tags here's a pie 🥧

(the last tag isn't exactly relevant, but hey. free pie 🥧) my response in the replies (with a few spelling edits):

moreso than calling what Jayce and Viktor have 'classical romance' (as such a phrase feel like it could be confused with the Romantic movement in the arts, which doesn't have much to do with love directly), I feel like it would almost be more accurate to describe it using the ancient (and a just few more modern) Greek terms for love. They already exist as a way to delineate the many types of love that can exist either combined or singular that can be part of a relationship between two people. (there's like eight or nine different Greek/Greek-derived words to categorize love at this point depending on who you ask, feel free to look 'em up yourself - there are six ancient Greek ones in there too. the Greeks have been dissecting love for a *very* long time) Of the types of love exhibited between Jayce and Viktor specifically, I think what you're getting at is that it's a bond which involves this incredibly beautiful blend of philia and agape, with a bit of mutual meraki as well. In actual English - their bond is made of deep personal affection on a mental/personality level (philia literally translates to 'soul connection') which isn't hurt by their shared love of creating/inventing new technology together. All of this being further boosted by the fact that they would anything for each other, even if it means damning themselves or other reallities in the process. I'd love to go into meljay as contrast, in large part because their relationship feels pretty unique in terms of what we see in media, but there's only so many characters allowed in a reply lol. feel free to ping me if you want me to put the rest of the deets on this or another post, though (and clarify you want it on a reblog instead of a reply if that's the case, as i default to replies otherwise)!

op's reply:

actually it's funny you say this because the romantic movement in the arts is pretty much what i had in mind just because of the like...aesthetic? i feel like it comes with a certain mood of sublime beauty and some mix of nature/humanity/passion/nostalgia while being both subdued and Not, which the jayvik finale sort of embodies to me if that makes sense (but then again i'm not an art connoisseur so i could be spouting total bullshit) i do agree with your analysis of their bond in the framework of greek terms for love and think that funnily enough it goes back to the orpheus and eurydice thing again (arcane when i come for you and your greek tragedies WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU--) sooo i guess i'll have to do some more research on that and i'd love to hear about your thoughts on meljay! if you feel comfortable i think a reblog might help more people see it (in which case you might need to put my notes and/or your comment as context to this admittedly very short post) but i don't mind either way :D

And, since the notes and comments have been placed, time to continue (I've been using this website for reference and been extrapolating best i can, but I'm no expert on the subject so feel free to correct me on it)

I honestly find JayMel really interesting to analyze from this perspective, because I feel like media doesn't show many relationships with this unique blend of loves, and especially not presented in a way where it's actually given some weight and value to both people within it. So, to start:

This list is very, very long, so let me this for the sake of everyone's sanity...

TL; DR - While Jaymel absolutely involves sexual attraction between the two of them (and is sometimes connected to these more casual, playful moments between the duo), those aren't nearly all the facets of their love. Some of the other types include: how they both enjoy working on Hextech (from the angles of technology and politics respectively), even if they sometimes have to make deals and do things with it they personally don't like; the surprisingly tentative yet compelling nature of their friendship together; the practical ways they (read; mostly Mel) are willing to help and support each other on a much more functional level, and how that in turn plays a very large part in letting them further emotionally connect with one another and deepen their bonds as people.

First (and most obviously), Mel and Jayce's dynamic obviously has a fair amount of eros in it. Eros can best be described as 'sexual love' or 'physical desire for each other' - the kind of love most people (largely allosexuals) assume are a part of "romantic" relationships by default, though one doesn't have to be a couple to act upon mutual eros. Either way, it's absolutely a part of their dynamic that deserves to mentioned and recognized - pretty sure none of us are going to forget the Sextech scene any time soon, and all. But that's only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to their dynamic.

In a fair few scenes where eros between them is evident, there's also pretty obviously some ludus going on. Ludus is one of the more modern categorizations love types, and describes 'playful love' - something more casual or carefree, no strings inherently attached, but a noted expression of affection all the same. You know that forge scene in season 1, where Mel sarcastically calls Jayce's smithing 'a delicate art' and she watches him sexily hammer out some metal, or at the end of that same scene, where she leans into him seductively... only to smack him in the tiddies with his own forge bolt and adds the one-liner, "Hold onto your nuts?" That absolutely reads as ludus following up on the eros within their dynamic. After all, ludus is the kind of love found in booty calls and one night stands, but could also just be enjoying a night out drinking with your pals. Which makes jaymel really interesting, considering the fact that it's also steeped in the opposite type of love....

....Which, in all honestly, I feel like I'll only be able to talk about once I've described meraki. You see, this and the next type of love seem pretty deeply entwined with one another when it comes to my categorizing and understanding of jaymel, but it feels like this is the one best needed to help describe the context of the other. Now, meraki one of the terms coined after the ancient Greeks, being a modern word that most people who don't speak Greek down know about. Essentially (and i could be wrong about the best term to use - but honestly i legitimately feel like this a type of love that shapes them, and don't know a better word to use), meraki is the love of creation, the love one pours into the act of making art or writing poetry or skillfully setting a table - or, best as i can sum all that up, a love of your work/what you do. And, lest we forget, the thing that brought them (alongside Viktor, though he's not the focus of this post) together is... well, Hextech. It's just that the work Jayce and Mel happen to be doing in relation to creating Hextech happen to be quite different in nature. Nonetheless they're both quite necessary for its creation to come to fruition. For Jayce, this 'love of creation' he has for hextech is quite literal - he's one of the two geniuses who invents, designs and very directly builds machines and technology that utilize Hextech within them, and it's obviously from the get go that he loves the idea of it so much that he dedicated his life to it (something something what that means in terms of what he said in the finale-). Mel, meanwhile, also loves Hextech and how she goes about creating it - but, in her case, she creates far less literally than how Jayce and Viktor do, though still plenty important. Because, for all the boys physically create the technology, it wouldn't be able to have nearly as much of an impact as it does if there wasn't someone politically advocating for its use and working for it to become societally integral. For all Viktor and Jayce may love making their gadgets and gizmos that utilize it, she's the one who loves it enough to build it up as A Brand and help get Jayce into top enough form that Hextech can even have its own seat on the council (no matter how much she regrets that decision almost immediately afterwards. But, it's this difference in terms of how they precisely they go about creating Hextech that can lead to a divide in how much they enjoy particular parts of shaping that leads to struggle in staying dedicated to specific parts of the process, which really comes down to their comfort with....

Pragma, or 'practical/dedicated love'. Pragma is the final love term coined after the time of Ancient Greece, and essentially acts as the complete opposite of ludus. While ludus is all about fun and in-the-moment playfulness, pragma is the love shown by doing what needs to be done to keep things functional, even if said actions are not particularly fun or enjoyable themselves. It's not the same thing as agape/'sacrificial' love, because it's not a case of being willing to throw everything just to keep this one person happy. These things are being done because they have to be done to make sure everything stays okay, not because the thing they love comes before absolutely anything else. Though it might seem boring (or maybe even selfish, if you compare it to agape in particular), it's a huge part of all kinds of relationships you can find between people, and says as much about nature of a dynamic as anything else. But, as stated, this type of love between Jayce and Mel is seen very specifically when it comes to their mutual love for Hextech and less directly for each other. In making Hextech and allowing it to flourish as a technology, steps have to be taken to ensure sponsors and investments, so that they never lose access to the resources required to continue working on it. As such, deals have to be cut and made, as seen in the concert scene, and continuing to make sure Jayce and Viktor's projects are properly funded is something they have to do over and over again just to keep things moving. In this sense, the main difference between the two of them in this context is the nuance of their meraki - for all they both enjoy creating Hextech in some way, the types of work they enjoy dedicating themselves to contrast quite a bit. For Jayce, politics and lobbying for funding are only a small part of what he does for Hextech - and not what he gravitate towards naturally, charismatic as he can be. To him, his love of is for the literal process - the one that Viktor both enjoy creating as a team moreso than they'll ever enjoy doing it alone. Meanwhile politicking and dedication to Hextech's social and financial success (which is where a lot of the pragma comes to the forefront) is what Mel enjoys doing - alone if necessary, but preferably with one of the creators of Hextech at her side, to have another hand on deck and a more direct face to associate with it. As such, it *does* make its own kind of sense that the duo (jayvik) whose meraki is almost identical have an time easier time bonding personality-wise (tho i do think Mel and Vik would have an easier time of it- *shoves my melvik-in-the-polycule headcanons in a box for later*), in comparison to the fascinatingly tentative nature of Jayce and Mel's....

Philia, or 'soul connection'. For all it sounds like a term for soulmates or such, what it really just means is that two people get along well with each other when it comes to general socializing and interaction. This is the type of love that underpins deep friendships, but also romantic couples that go beyond just being sexually compatible (or queerplatonic couples - sadly, the terms for love never developed in such a way to make it *easy* to differentiate aspec couples from other kinds of dynamics, but we work with what we got), or even just coworker who get along pretty well. And it's here in particular that I find jaymel compelling as we see them in the show, because, for all we see them work together well on Hextech and be playful with each other and Do The Fuck, their philia seems... surprisingly awkward, or at least not nearly as natural as it is for jayvik (or how i headcanon it would be for melvik). To be clear: you're allowed to headcanon jaymel as more naturally friendly than this, like how many people like to extrapolate jayvik out to include some level of eros (which, once again, not disparaging, just noting as not being shown in Arcane directly). But in terms of what we actually see in the show... jaymel has a bit of a hard time with getting close on an emotional level. Which i honestly really appreciate; the show doesn't invalidate the love that is there simply due to this fact, after all. All the other parts of their relationship exist and are recognized in the narrative while still letting the philia between them not come as naturally as everything else. People's personalities may end up with them clashing fairly often, but they can still be close anyways. (well, as long as they work at it - but I'll segue into that subcategory in a little bit.) And because of this, they're able to take a very fun option: showing some of these moments of tension or awkwardness between them, and letting us as the audience watch how the two navigate and end up resolving these moments. Though some of these moments do end up getting interrupted by a third party, which can end up impacting how these moments of tension end up getting resolved. (I'm looking at you, Viktor, for how you interrupted that moment between jaymel and instigated the season 2 council room fight. go to ur eldritch jesus shame corner /lh/j) Speaking of reaction: Mel and Jayce each have distinct ways of expressing emotional distress (at least most of the time - Mel lets herself get a lot more angry with her mother than she would otherwise). For Jayce, his reactions are what he's infamous for in fandom - impulsively jumping into action based on his current feelings without considering what consequences. (read: almost always not what he wanted.) Meanwhile, Mel tends to withdraw into herself and act more emotionally unaffected than she actually is - for example, how her reaction to Jayce leaving in the middle of the night after Sextech is to... well, paint, and respond relatively neutrally up until Jayce justifies his actions. But it's in resolving of these conflicts that the two of them are able to start building up their philia and comfort with each other (beyond their mutual focus on hextech or sex) into a deeper level of companionship. The reason why their philia is able to end up further developing is due to the active usage of...

Pragma, not within the framework of Hextech. You see, Hextech-focused pragma can quite often lead to added tension between them instead of anything getting resolved, as seen when Mel gets Jayce voted onto the council without asking him first. In comparison, many of the moments of pragma between them that aren't focused on Hextech itself often lead to to bonding moments between the two of them as individuals. (Which makes sense as talking about work, even if you like doing it, doesn't tend to lead to much personal emotional intimacy.) Alongside that, there's one other thing that differentiates these moments of pragma from those focused on Hextech directly: in those situations where willingly taking action leads to them getting closer, it's almost always Mel who takes the initiative. For Jayce, the vulnerability he shows to her is never from a place of willingly dropped guard or conscious intent, but instead due to being absolutely overwhelmed by his emotions. As such, it's Mel who consistently dedicates herself to their relationship by reacting in ways that only really serve to benefit or support Jayce, such as: -> accepting her suddenly-given role as emotional after the discovery Viktor is dying -> voting Heimerdinger out of the council on Jayce's inferred behest -> comforting Jayce over said vote that he pushed through -> stalling while he's supposed to be leading the council so he has time to find Viktor -> implicitly supporting Jayce's decision to bring Viktor back from at least the brink of death, if not death itself, at the beginning of season 2 Even past the ones I listed, there's so many moments Mel has which speak to her own brand of love for Jayce, especially in season 1. Times where she very much chooses to act in favor of his interests, even though it in no way benefits her, can be readily pointed to as cases of pragma. For all they might not be big and noticeable, they help keep the dynamic functional and healthy. Though, that's not to say Jayce doesn't have a moment of pragma outside of working on Hextech. Though, unless I'm missing something, it is just. A singular moment for him. Which is after his implicit apology for the argument the two had in the council room before the Viktor fight in season 2. After the apology, Mel goes on to open up to him about how she unlocked her abilities as a mage, that he comforts her by saying that Mel could never be just a passenger in her body - this is a moment that, while it does nothing to help him personally, still speaks to him caring about Mel. But... that's pretty much we only case we have of him directly engaging in pragma in relation to Mel. (...But then again, we see a lot of him and his active cases of pragma in those situations in season 1 focused on Hextech in particular, so in that regard it evens out if you consider pragma a whole without those specific contexts in mind. But I digress.)

There's potentially one other type of love i was tempted to add to all this, but this post has gotten very, very long, so i think I leave it here. If you somehow got this far down: holy shit what the fuck (impressed). For the sake of the sane people. I think I'll be putting my TL;DR at the top of the list.

oh yeah also jayvik are extremely orpheus and eurydice coded i don't make the rules

[dazevi]

CHAPTER ONE: GHOST IN THE ROOM

heart to heart series | vi x fem!reader

synopsis: with the tour coming to an end, vi's manager insists on the band taking a break. meanwhile, you help your best friend, mel, with planning her wedding.

content warnings: MDNI. angst (lots of it), slightly suggestive, rockstar!vi, writer!reader, eventual exes to lovers (more like exes to fwb to lovers), no smut but mentions of sex, jaymel cameo, bestfriend!mel, time skips, mentions of alcohol and smoking

wc: 11,388 (about—i made some edits lol)

note: good morning!! (its morning where i am) this is my first time writing a series so feedback would be very much appreciated—would love to hear what you guys think!!! also i had some trouble deciding if i wanted to write jayvik or jaymel but i felt like mel would’ve been more fitting for reader to have as a best friend lol anyways here is the first chapter! i hope you all enjoy!!! (fanart by bunimint_ on ig)

navigation | series masterlist | previous chapter

The hum of the venue echoed faintly through the backstage room, muffled by layers of concrete and steel.

The crowd had been electric tonight, their cheers and screams still ringing faintly in Vi’s ears as she sat on the small stool in front of a mirror. Her guitar sat propped against the brick wall behind her, its strings still vibrating in her memory from the final chords of the night. The air in the room smelled faintly of sweat and smoke, the residue of adrenaline and effort clinging to her skin.

The band was as much a family as it was a group of musicians. While Vi stands in front, Ekko was on lead guitar, the youngest of them but by far the most electric on stage, shredding solos and occasionally stepping up to rap when a song called for it. Then there was Steb on drums. He didn’t talk much, but he didn’t really need to. He was a crucial part of the band already and quite creative with his beats. And on bass was Loris, a big guy with a bigger heart, who filled every song with lines that could shake the floor of any venue.

But she was alone now, the rest of the band off celebrating the end of the tour, their laughter faint in the distance, just past the door. Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her—flushed cheeks, damp hair sticking to her temples, her tank top slightly wrinkled. Her chest rose and fell steadily, but her mind wasn’t calm.

Not really.

She reached up to push a strand of hair from her face when her fingers brushed against the cool silver chain around her neck.

Her hand stilled.

The necklace felt heavy on her neck as always, but she hardly thought about anymore.

Tonight, for some reason, it felt heavier. Vi tugged gently at it, pulling the necklace out from under her shirt to let it fall against her chest. They glimmered faintly in the dim backstage light, catching her eye like they always had.

She stared at them for a long moment, her throat tightening.

She hadn’t thought about it—about you—in a while.

Or… maybe that wasn’t true.

Maybe she’d just gotten better at pretending she didn’t.

But now, with the adrenaline of the stage fading away and the silence of the backstage room settling in, it hit her all over again.

Six years had passed since graduating high school. She remembers all the memories that came with it—that came with being with you—as if they happened yesterday.

But, three years.

It had been three years since the two of you had broken up, and Vi still couldn’t let go of this last piece of you. She told herself it was just a necklace, just a reminder of a time when life seemed simple, but deep down she knew it was more than that.

It was a lifeline to a past she hadn’t entirely made peace with—a time when the world didn’t feel quite so big, and her dreams hadn’t come at the cost of losing you.

She blinked at her reflection, her jaw tightening as her fingers played with the rings. The memories came flooding back despite her best efforts to push them down. The nights spent tangled up together in her room, the sound of your laugh as you teased her for pretending to know how to play certain songs when she wanted to impress you, the way you always smelled faintly of lavender and paper from all those books you carried around and loved so much. God, she could almost hear your voice if she closed her eyes, could almost feel the way your hands used to cup her face when you kissed her.

But you weren’t here. And you hadn’t been for years.

Vi exhaled shakily, letting the necklace fall back against her chest. She rubbed her hands over her face, her calloused fingers catching slightly on her damp skin.

She tried to tell herself this was what she wanted—what she had worked so hard for. The sold-out shows, the screaming fans, the endless crowds. It had been her dream for as long as she could remember.

But the truth was, none of it felt quite as fulfilling as she thought it would. Not without you.

The buzz of her phone on the dressing table broke her train of thought. She glanced at it, the screen lighting up with a text from Ekko reminding her to join them at the bar. She hesitated, her gaze drifting back to the mirror.

For a quick moment, she thought about it—thought about texting you. Maybe, calling you. Just to say hi. Just to hear your voice again, even if only through the cold distance of a phone call.

But she knew better. You had probably already moved on, or at least, you deserved to.

Vi stood slowly, adjusting the chain so it tucked back under her shirt, hidden from view. She ran a hand through her hair and grabbed her jacket, shrugging it on. As she walked out of the room, she felt the rings press lightly against her chest.

The party the next night was loud, chaotic, and everything it should have been to celebrate the end of a year-long tour. Vi found herself tucked into a corner of the room, a half-empty beer bottle in her hand as she watched her bandmates laugh and shout over the music. People swarmed around them—fans, industry suits, and a few familiar faces from the tour circuit.

It was exactly what she used to love, the kind of scene she’d dreamed about when she first picked up a guitar in her mom’s garage. But tonight, it all felt hollow.

She plastered on a grin when someone approached, making small talk she wouldn’t remember later, pretending the music wasn’t giving her a headache.

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the celebration. She should have been celebrating. A year long tour. Ninety shows. Sold-out venues in cities she never thought she’d even visit, let alone play in.

But now that it was over, the rush was fading.

Vi’s manager had pulled the band aside after the final show, giving them a rundown of what came next.

Or rather, what didn’t come next.

“You’ve earned it,” the manager had said, looking around at the group. “Take a break. Go home. Recharge. You’ve been going non-stop for years. You deserve this.”

Home. The word lingered in Vi’s mind. It felt heavy and unfamiliar.

She sipped her beer and glanced around the party again. Everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives, but Vi felt detached, like she was watching it all through a screen.

The truth was, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do now. This band, for the time being, had been her life. The shows, the music, the adrenaline—it all kept her moving forward, kept her distracted.

But now? Now she was being told to stop.

Her fingers brushed against the chain around her neck, hidden beneath her shirt. She’d done it out of habit, her thumb grazing the spot where the rings rested against her skin. She swallowed hard, her jaw tightening as she felt some sort of pain swell in her chest. She pushed it down, forcing herself to focus on the noise and the people around her.

When a girl caught her eye across the room—pretty, confident, the kind of girl who wouldn’t ask too many questions—Vi didn’t hesitate.

She let the girl take her hand and pull her upstairs to some empty room in the penthouse suite. It was mechanical by now, second nature. She knew what to say, where to touch, how to make it seem like she was present when, in truth, her mind was somewhere else.

Or rather, with someone else.

It always ended the same way.

Vi closed her eyes, and it was you. There was no one else she could think of other than you.

It didn’t help that every time she hovered over someone else, her necklace would dangle just in front of her, and she’d look down and catch a glimpse of you beneath her, all pretty and waiting, with eyes full of love and warmth—the very eyes she fell in love with again and again. Every laugh, every touch, every kiss—it was you she conjured up in her mind.

But it never lasted.

Reality always came crashing back when the girl whispered her name in a way that had no effect on her or when she clung to her a little too tightly, too roughly.

When it was over, Vi sat silently by the bed, pulling on her shirt, avoiding eye contact.

“Can you stay?” the girl asked softly.

“No,” Vi shook her head, grabbing her jacket. She never stayed. She never left her number. And she never looked back.

Walking out into the cold night air, Vi lit a cigarette with trembling hands.

She thought about you—again. She thought about the way you used to smile at her, how your fingers used to trail through her hair when she rested her head in your lap, how you’d call her name so softly that it felt like she was listening to her favorite song. The ache in her chest was unbearable, but it was the only thing that reminded her she was still alive.

Since the breakup, Vi had grown bitter, the world feeling heavier with each passing day. She hadn’t felt truly happy in years, hadn’t laughed the way she used to.

So she buried herself into anything that could distract her—work, music, and nights like this one.

But it was useless.

Because no matter how far she ran, how many strangers she kissed, or how loud the music played, she always had you in her mind.

Always you. Only you.

To the little town she used to call home. To the life she’d walked away from when she chose this one.

And for the first time in a long time, Vi wasn’t sure she’d made the right choice.

The chime of the bell above the flower shop door rang faintly as a customer left, and you glanced up from where you sat behind the counter, absentmindedly wrapping a bouquet of daisies in soft brown paper. The shop smelled sweet and earthy—comforting in a way that nothing else had been for the past few years.

It had been your mom’s idea for you to work here after you graduated college, though you hadn’t exactly protested. It was a nice job to have. Stress free. Relaxing. Arranging flowers, chatting with customers, and helping with orders had its own kind of peace.

You figured it would be nice way to pass some time while saving up money for your own shop—a book shop.

But some time has passed now, and all you’ve got to do is find the courage to go downtown and lease out that nice empty spot by the town gardens.

But, you decide to put that off for next month. Maybe after the wedding.

Your degree in literature had been the culmination of years of dreaming, of late nights spent pouring over books and writing short stories that no one else ever read. And for a while, everything felt like it was falling into place. That book—the one you poured your soul into, the one that had felt like ripping your heart out to write—had done surprisingly well. It wasn’t a bestseller, but it had been enough. Enough to make you believe you were on the right path, to reassure you that the sacrifices had been worth it.

But now, the blank pages in your notebook always stared back at you, mocking. The words didn’t come as easily as they used to. It wasn’t writer’s block, not exactly—it was something deeper. A lack of fire, you called it. And you told yourself that the flower shop was just a temporary stop, a place to regroup until the inspiration came back.

But part of you worried it never would.

As you finished tying a ribbon around the bouquet, your gaze drifted to the small bookshelf by the window. Copies of your book sat there, stacked neatly, the cover facing out. Your mom kept them in stock, proud and supportive as always, even if the sight of them made you wince. Every time you looked at it, you remembered how much of yourself you’d poured into that story—how you’d been told it was heartbreaking and beautiful, and yet writing it had felt like stitching up a wound that refused to heal.

You always tried not to think about who had inspired it.

But of course, you failed. You always did.

Some days, it was easier to pretend that part of your life hadn’t happened, to bury it under layers of routine and busy nights. Other days, it hit you out of nowhere—a song on the radio, a laugh in a movie, the way a stranger’s voice pitched just so.

And suddenly, you’d be back there.

Back to her.

The chime of the bell rang again, snapping you out of your thoughts as a new customer stepped in. You forced a polite smile, brushing your hands against your apron. The shop was warm and safe, a place where you could hide from the rest of the world.

But somewhere out there, the rest of the world kept moving—just as it had for Vi.

You remembered the day you saw that headline.

You hadn’t expected to see it, but there it was—Violet Lanes Spotted Dining With Famous Actress Caitlyn Kiramman—in bold, glaring letters across the entertainment news section of your phone screen.

The date on the article was just two weeks after your breakup, and it felt like the universe had decided to make sure you never forgot. You could still remember the way your heart sank as you read it, like the air was suddenly sucked out of your lungs, leaving you breathless and dizzy.

You’d known about Vi’s fame, how it grew quickly when she started making music professionally, of course—how could you not? She was a rockstar, her face plastered everywhere, her name trending almost daily.

But this… this was different.

Caitlyn Kiramman was an actress with a reputation that preceded her, a star on a different level entirely. Vi was supposed to be with you—at least, you thought so, at the time. But as you read through the details, the pictures of Vi smiling across the table at Caitlyn, her arm casually draped around the actress’s shoulders, something inside you snapped. It was the first time, in the aftermath of everything, that you’d truly felt like you’d lost her.

You tried to dismiss the burning ache in your chest. After all, you hadn’t exactly been an innocent party in your breakup. You had your reasons for walking away, too.

But seeing Vi so effortlessly move on, laughing and drinking wine with someone like Caitlyn—someone who could stand next to her in the spotlight without being swallowed by it—hit you harder than you expected.

It wasn’t jealousy, not really.

It was just you realizing that Vi had stepped into a world without you, just as you had stepped into one without her.

You thought about calling her, but you didn’t.

The last time you’d spoken, you’d said what needed to be said, even if it hadn’t felt like it at the time. You had told yourself you were better off, that you deserved more than being constantly second place to her career.

You didn’t want to call. Instead, you buried yourself in your work, threw yourself into your job, and started writing stories that felt too hollow to ever really be finished. You kept your distance from everything that reminded you of her, trying to forget the feeling of her hand in yours, the sound of her voice when she’d whisper your name in that low, raspy tone that made your heart flutter.

Maybe Vi was happy. Maybe she had found someone else who could give her the things you couldn’t. The thought hit you harder than it should, but you couldn’t stop it.

You thought about the necklace—the one Vi had worn, the one that had been yours too, back in high school. Your fingers traced the small silver chain around your neck, the one you hadn’t taken off since that night you two shared it.

Had she kept hers? You wondered, for the briefest second, if she still thought about you.

But you had no way of knowing. You hadn’t heard from her in years, and you had convinced yourself that it was for the best.

The familiar sound of the bell above the shop’s door jingled softly as your mom stepped out from the back room, balancing a couple of boxes in her arms. She looked like she’d been at it for hours, strands of her hair falling from the bun on top of her head.

“Sweetheart,” she said, setting the boxes down on the counter with a thud. “Mel’s going to call about the flowers soon. You know how particular she can be about the arrangements.”

You sighed, pausing mid-wrap on a bouquet of white roses and eucalyptus.

“I know, Mom,” you muttered, though you couldn’t quite keep the smile off your face.

Mel had been one of your closest friends since high school, and if anyone had a reason to be particular, it was her. She deserved the perfect wedding, after all.

“She’s already called three times this week about those centerpieces. I’m pretty sure I know her vision better than she does at this point.”

Your mom laughed softly, brushing her hands on her apron. “She’s just excited. It’s a big day.”

She gave you a knowing look, the kind that said she wasn’t just talking about Mel.

Before you could respond, the phone behind the counter buzzed, cutting through the silence of the shop. You reached for it instinctively, already knowing who it would be.

“I swear, she has a sixth sense for these things,” you mumbled as you picked up the receiver.

“Hello, Lane Florals, how can I help—”

“Don’t even start with the formalities, I know it’s you,” came Mel’s voice, bright and slightly exasperated on the other end. “And I know I’ve already called you a million times this week, but I need to talk about the bouquets again. Jayce thinks we’re good, but I’m having second thoughts about the hydrangeas.”

You let out a dramatic groan, though you couldn’t help the laugh that followed. “Mel, you’ve gotta stop stressing. You’re going to make me go gray before your wedding day. What’s wrong with the hydrangeas now?”

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed. “I just feel like they don’t have the right… feeling. Maybe we should go with lilies? Or peonies? Or—oh! Do you think we could mix in some sunflowers? Jayce looooves sunflowers.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, glancing over at your mom, who was now suppressing a grin as she watered the potted plants by the window.

“Mel, we’re two weeks away from the wedding,” you said gently. “If we keep changing things, you’re not going to have any flowers at all.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Mel sighed dramatically. “You’re right. Ugh, you’re right. I’m just overthinking it. I’m sorry, I’ll stop being such a pain your ass.”

“You’re not a pain,” you said, softening. “You’re just… a perfectionist. But it’s all going to be perfect, I promise. The hydrangeas are beautiful, and they’re going to look amazing with everything else. Trust me. I’ll throw in some sunflowers, too, for Jayce.”

Mel let out a small, relieved laugh. “Thanks, babe. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Lose your mind, probably,” you teased, leaning back against the counter. “But seriously, you’re going to be fine. And as your maid of honor, I think you should take my advice and roll with it.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, and you could hear the smile in her voice. “Oh, and don’t forget, you promised to help me with the seating chart this weekend.”

“I know, I know,” you assured her, though the thought of wrangling that seating chart made you want to pour yourself a strong drink. “I’ll see you Saturday, okay?”

“Okay. Love you!” she said quickly before hanging up.

You set the phone down with a sigh, turning to your mom, who was now watching you with an amused expression. “Hydrangeas again?” she asked.

“Hydrangeas,” you confirmed with a laugh, shaking your head. “I swear, if I hear the word one more time, I’m going to lose it.”

But despite the teasing, you felt nothing but warmth for Mel. She was one of the few people who had stuck by you through everything, and seeing her so happy with Jayce was something you couldn’t begrudge, no matter how stressful wedding planning had become.

You glanced at the calendar on the wall, your thoughts drifting briefly, as they so often did, to Vi.

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

At least, that’s what Vi had told you when she kissed you goodbye at the airport years ago, both of you standing on the edge of the new chapter—her with her band’s first big break, and you heading off to college.

She had cupped your face, her calloused hands warm against your cheeks, and promised, “We’ll make it work. You and me, we’re solid, baby. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

But it did.

You used to call everyday. Text everyday. It was so often that Vi would fall asleep on the phone every night, to the sound of your voice, telling her how much you missed her. You’d do the same, too.

But the calls that used to stretch into the early hours of the morning grew shorter and less frequent.

At first, Vi always made time for you, even if she was in the middle of nowhere, some dingy tour bus parked at a rest stop. She’d stay on the line, her gravelly voice cutting through the static as she told you about the show that night or the funny thing Ekko had done to annoy Steb. And you’d tell her about your classes, your professors, the friends you were making in your lit program. She also always used to mention you in interviews when people would ask the band if they were single or whatever.

And Vi would always say, “I’ve actually got a girl waiting for me back at home,” with cheekiest smile she could throw on.

For a while, it was enough.

But then the band’s success started to pick up, and Vi’s world got louder, busier. The calls started to come later and later—or sometimes not at all.

You’d stay up, staring at your phone, waiting for it to ring, only to wake up hours later with an empty inbox and a dull ache in your chest.

And the texts? They dwindled too.

You used to send each other everything—pictures, inside jokes, songs that reminded you of each other.

Days would pass before you’d hear from her. And when you did, it was always rushed. A quick voice message, “Sorry, babe, crazy day. Miss you, though. Love you,” followed by radio silence for the rest of the week.

You tried to understand. You really did.

You knew how much this meant to her, how hard she’d worked to get where she was. You were proud of her, more than you could ever put into words.

But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

One night, you were in your dorm room, sitting at your desk with a stack of notes and an unfinished essay in front of you, your phone balanced precariously on the edge. Vi had promised to call after a show—it had been over two weeks since you’d last spoken properly—but the clock was inching toward midnight, and there was still no word.

When the phone finally buzzed, you snatched it up, your heart pounding. “Vi?”

Her voice came through the line, raspy and tired. “Hey, baby. Sorry, show ran late.”

“It’s okay,” you lied, sinking back into your chair. “How was it?”

She sighed, and you could hear the exhaustion in it. “Good. Crowd was wild. But I’m beat.”

There was a pause, one that stretched too long, too heavy. You could feel the distance between you, the miles and the time zones and the weeks of missed calls.

“I miss you,” you said softly, your voice breaking a little.

“I miss you too,” she said, but it sounded automatic, like something she’d said a thousand times before—who are you kidding? She probably has.

You wanted to ask her why she hadn’t called, why it felt like you were slipping further and further apart.

But the words caught in your throat.

Instead, you said, “When are you coming home?”

“Uh…” Another pause. Then, “I don’t know, babe. Not for a while.”

It felt like a punch to the gut.

“Right,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’m sorry,” she added quickly, like she could sense your disappointment in her. “It’s just… everything’s so crazy right now. But I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Okay.”

When the call ended, you stared at your phone for a long time, tears blurring your vision. Vi had always been your safe place. But at that time, it felt like she was slipping away, and no matter how tightly you held on, you couldn’t stop it.

And Vi felt it too.

She hated the way things were between you, the way she could hear the hurt in your voice even when you tried to hide it. She wanted to fix it, to drop everything, fly to you and hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay.

But the truth was, she didn’t know if it would be.

Because no matter how much you loved each other, the distance was pulling you apart. And neither of you knew how to stop it.

NOVEMBER, THREE YEARS AGO.

It had been months since you’d last seen her—months that felt like years. You’d tried to bury yourself in your studies, keeping busy so you didn’t have to think about the loneliness she left behind with you.

But then your phone rang one rainy afternoon, and when Vi’s name flashed on the screen, you hesitated for only a moment before answering.

“Hey,” you said softly, curling up on your bed as you balanced the phone against your ear.

“Hey, babe,” she replied, her voice a little hoarse, like she’d been yelling or maybe singing too much. “How’s school?”

“It’s… fine,” you said, trying to keep your tone neutral.

You wanted to tell her everything—how much you missed her, how hard it was to fall asleep without her voice in your ear—but you swallowed the words.

“What are you up to?” You asked, bringing a hand up to rub the side of your neck.

“Nothing, right now… I’m in bed. I just finished up at the studio,” she said quietly. “It ran pretty late so…”

“Are you doing okay?”

You hear her take a breath before sighing softly, “Yeah, I’m… I just miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you echoed.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then she said, “I was thinking… I want you to come to New York.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “New York?”

“Yeah. The band got invited to this award show. It’s kind of a big deal, I guess. I—I want you to be my date.”

Your stomach twisted at the invitation. You could hear the hope in her voice, and for a second, all you wanted to do was say yes. But then reality set in.

“Vi, I don’t know. I have finals coming up, and plane tickets are—”

“Will be taken care of,” she interrupted quickly. “I’ll handle it, everything. Just say yes.”

“Vi…”

“I wanna see you,” she said, and her voice was soft, almost pleading. It caught you off guard. “Please. It’s been too long. I miss you.”

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the wall, and sighed.

It was always hard to say no to Vi.

“Okay,” you murmured. “I’ll come.”

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice brightening.

“Yeah.”

The next few weeks all happened too quickly.

Vi arranged everything—a plane ticket, a car to pick you up from the airport, even a dress for the event. You didn’t know how she’d managed it all, but you weren’t surprised. She could practically do anything she sets her mind to.

When you stepped off the plane and into the terminal, you were expecting to just follow the signs to baggage claim, look for the driver Vi had mentioned in passing, and quietly make your way to whatever fancy hotel she had booked for you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate her effort—Vi always went all out when it came to you—but you figured this was just another one of those things she couldn’t be present for, one more event she’d planned out from a distance.

But when you rounded the corner toward the arrivals area, your feet froze mid-step.

There she was.

Vi was standing near the entrance, her tall frame wrapped in an all-black outfit. A long black coat hung open over a fitted turtleneck and dark jeans, her combat boots planted firmly on the tiled floor. In her hands, she held a small bouquet of flowers—white daisies and a few pale pink roses wrapped in simple brown paper.

She looked every bit the rockstar she’d become, yet look on her face told a different story.

Her eyes scanned the crowd eagerly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the paper wrapping as though she were nervous.

Your breath hitched, and tears prickled at the corners of your eyes.

For a moment, you couldn’t move.

Then Vi’s eyes found yours.

Her face lit up like the sun breaking through a storm, and before you could even process what was happening, she was running toward you. Her long strides closed the distance in seconds, and then she was there—her arms wrapping tightly around you, pulling you into her chest.

“Hey, baby,” she whispered against your hair.

You couldn’t respond.

Your throat was too tight, and the only thing you could do was cling to her, burying your face in her neck as the tears spilled over. The flowers were crushed slightly between your bodies, but neither of you cared. Vi’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, holding you like she was afraid you might disappear.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands cupping your face as she scanned your features like she needed to memorize them all over again.

She let out a breathy sigh, a smile making its way onto her face, “God, you’re even prettier than I remember.”

You let out a watery laugh, wiping at your cheeks with trembling fingers.

“Shut up,” you teased, though your voice wavered.

Vi grinned, a little sheepishly, and handed you the now slightly crumpled bouquet. “These are for you. Sorry, I think I crushed them a little.”

“They’re perfect,” you said, taking the flowers and holding them close to your chest.

She smiled again, softer this time, and reached out to take your suitcase.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. We can go get lunch after the hotel. I know a place you might like.”

And for the first time in a long while, being with her finally felt right.

The weekend passed like something out of a dream. Vi stuck close to you, almost glued to your side, like she couldn’t bear to let go of you for even a second. She carried your bags, opened every door, kissed you in every private corner she could find.

In the the hotel room, with the city skyline stretching endlessly outside the window, she kissed you until her lips felt bruised, like she was trying to make up for every kiss she hadn’t been able to give you.

She made love to you slowly, tenderly, the way you deserved—whispering soft words against your skin, brushing stray strands of hair from your face, as if she couldn’t believe you were there with her.

“God, I missed you,” she murmured over and over again, her voice thick and quiet, spilling out each time her lips found yours. “I missed you so much.”

And it wasn’t just the being this close to you that left Vi breathless—it was everything else.

The way your laugh filled the room when she cracked a joke. The way you shyly tucked your head into her shoulder when she kissed your temple in public. The way your voice softened when you told her you missed her, that you loved her. Vi felt like she was relearning you, rediscovering all the tiny details she’d loved about you from the start—the way your fingertips felt trailing down her arm, the way you hummed absentmindedly when you were happy, the way you fit perfectly in her arms like you’d been made for her.

For once, Vi wasn’t thinking about work, about the band, about the next tour or the endless cycle of interviews and late-night rehearsals.

None of that mattered here.

The world felt smaller, quieter, when it was just the two of you.

She couldn’t believe how much she’d missed you, how much she’d missed this.

As the weekend was drawing to a close, you were lying in bed together, your head resting on her chest. Vi traced lazy circles along your shoulder with her fingertips, her other hand draped protectively across your waist. The sheets were tangled around your bare legs, the city lights painting soft, dim patterns on the walls.

“I forgot what this feels like,” Vi had said, her voice almost a whisper. “Just… being with you. I missed it.”

You tilted your head to look up at her, your eyes warm and full of something she couldn’t quite name.

“Me too,” you said softly, your hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face.

Vi leaned down to kiss you again slowly, her hand cradling your jaw.

She wanted to stay in this moment forever, to bottle it up and carry it with her wherever she went.

Being with you, she wasn’t worried about the distance, about the time apart, about anything other than you.

But happiness like that didn’t last for long and, tomorrow, it would all go to shit.

The night of the music award show was everything Vi had hoped it would be, glimmering lights, and flashing cameras. She could hardly contain her pride as she stood beside you, her arm around your waist, guiding you through. Everything had been planned, from your dress to the after-party, and it seemed like everything was falling into place.

You looked stunning in the dress she had picked out for you. It was a deep shade of red that hugged your body in all the right places, with delicate lace detailing along the neckline that made your girlfriend want to cover your collarbone with kisses. Vi couldn’t take her eyes off you when she first saw you in it. She kept telling you how beautiful you looked, her voice filled with awe every time she caught a glimpse of you.

You had always been beautiful in Vi’s eyes, but tonight, you looked like someone straight out of a dream, her dreams. She felt a pride swell up inside her every time she looked at you, like the world had never seemed brighter, knowing that you, her girl, were beside her.

But despite how nice it was all going, it wasn’t without its discomforts for you.

There were moments when you felt too out of place in the spotlight, when the flashing of cameras made your chest tighten, or when you were pulled away from Vi to stand beside some celebrities for interviews, your smile feeling stiff and forced. Every time you were apart from her, even for a moment, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of loneliness, wanting to be close to her again.

The show itself went smoothly, though.

Vi did her thing and you watched from the sidelines, starstruck and completely in awe. It was so surreal to see her like this, her bandmates by her side, to see other celebrities you watched from home, the crowd cheering for her every time her name was called. She looked radiant. And it was hard to not feel overwhelmed by it all.

But the further the night dragged on, the more it felt like you were losing her to this new world.

You felt more of it at the after party. Vi had been swept away by a group of celebrities who wanted to talk to her, leaving you standing alone at the bar.

Ekko noticed and came over to keep you company, but it still wasn’t the same. He asked about how things were at home, mentioned how much he missed eating Benzo’s cooking. And it was nice talking to him—nice to have a friend around who didn’t feel too far into the fame as everyone else did in the room.

As you leaned against the bar, nursing your drink, you found your eyes wandering back to Vi, standing across the room, laughing and chatting with some famous actress, her hand resting on her arm. She looked completely at ease, her eyes sparkling as she talked with the other guests.

But it was clear that you that were nothing more than a bystander to her world now.

Ekko’s voice snapped you out of your daze. “You okay?” he asked, noticing your distracted expression.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… a bit tired, I guess.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “You sure? Vi looks like she’s having a blast. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

You smiled again, though it felt hollow. “Yeah, she always has a way of talking to people, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she does,” Ekko agreed, grinning. “But you know she’s really happy to have you here tonight. She’s always talking about you. Can’t get her to shut up about you sometimes.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, but it faded almost as quickly as it appeared.

You stand there, drink in hand, feeling an odd tension settle in your chest as you watch Vi across the room. She’s talking to someone—a tall woman, all legs and sharp angles, with dark blue hair that catches the light in an almost ethereal way. The way the actress moves, the way she laughs—effortless, magnetic, like she’s always been in the spotlight.

You’ve seen her before, vaguely—magazines, red carpets, maybe a movie trailer. She’s the kind of woman people can’t help but stare at. Perfectly polished, perfectly poised.

And there’s Vi, her face bright with a smile you once thought was reserved just for you. But now, as she stands there, chatting easily, you feel like a ghost in the room, watching from the sidelines.

Your fingers tighten around your glass, but you don’t move. You can’t.

It’s strange, this feeling that tightens your chest, this longing and bitterness you can’t seem to shake. Vi’s laugh carries over through the party, and for a moment, you close your eyes, remembering when you were the one who made her laugh like that. When you were the one who kissed that smile from her lips.

But it all feels so far away now.

The more you watch them, the more out of place you feel.

The more you look at Vi, the more she seems to belong in this world—this world of lights and flashes, of perfect strangers who all seem to know exactly who they are, exactly where they fit.

And you?

You’re still standing in the corner of this room, feeling like you’re made of something that doesn’t belong, something that’s too small for this space.

You swallow, trying to force down the lump in your throat.

It’s stupid, you know it’s stupid.

You’re just a girl from a small town with college exams coming up and some books you wrote.

Nothing glamorous.

And Vi—Vi’s everything you aren’t. She’s out here, living the life you never had the guts to chase. You can’t even blame her for it. She’s been nothing but amazing, talented and hardworking, giving you so much of herself, even when it all felt too complicated.

But seeing her like this, only reminds you of how out of place you feel now, in her world, in this world.

“I… I think I’m just gonna get some fresh air,” you say quietly.

You excuse yourself from Ekko, offering him a small smile as you slip away from the conversation. You need air—fresh, cool, anything to clear the thoughts that have taken root in your mind.

You take the elevator down to the ground floor, your heels clicking softly on the polished floors. The doors open with a soft ding, and you step out, immediately greeted by the cool bite of the night air. It’s a entirely different compared to the warmth of the party inside, and for a moment, it feels like a relief, like you can finally breathe without the walls of the venue pressing in on you.

The city lights glow in the distance, the hustle of traffic and the low hum of conversations from nearby streets filled your ears. You pull your coat tighter around you, the fabric clinging to your shoulders, but it doesn’t do much to shield you from the knot tightening in your chest.

You stand there for a moment, breathing deeply. The cool air is refreshing, but it can’t seem to cool the heat rising in your cheeks, the bitter ache in your stomach. Everything about it reminds you of how far things have come—and how far apart you and Vi have drifted.

You didn’t want to feel this way tonight. You didn’t want to spend another evening consumed by jealousy, by doubt.

But here you are, standing outside in the dark, unable to fight the feeling.

You really hadn’t expected it to be this hard.

Maybe it’s silly to think you could’ve ever fit into that world.

But the truth stings.

You want things to be different. You want to be the one she looks at, the one she chooses. But everything about tonight has made you feel like that’s something you’ll never be again.

You look up at the sky, the stars barely visible through the city’s haze, and for a moment, you close your eyes, letting the cold air fill your lungs.

You wish things were different. You wish you could go back to when you were everything to each other.

But you can’t.

Not anymore.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Vi’s voice cuts through your train of thought.

She must have slipped out unnoticed, and now, there she is, standing behind you. Her arms come around your waist, pulling you closer, her front pressed against your back. Her chin rests gently on your shoulder, her breath tickling the back of your neck.

“Hi, baby,” she muttered quietly.

You want to speak, to tell her how you feel, how the space between you both is only growing wider.

But the words stick in your throat.

Vi stays there, waiting for you, her body warm against yours. Her hands move from your waist, softly tracing over your arms, gently coaxing you into the safety of her touch, even though you don’t know how safe it feels anymore.

For a moment, all you can do is breathe, just breathe, feeling her arms around you… as if it’s the last time you’ll feel it.

When you do finally speak, it’s quieter than you intend, barely above a whisper. “Vi, I think we… I think we should stop this.”

Vi stiffens behind you, her hands pausing on your skin.

You can feel her heart rate quicken slightly. But she doesn’t pull away.

Instead, she presses closer, her breath brushing your ear as she whispers, “What are you talking about?”

She holds you tighter, and for a brief second, you feel the urge to give in to her touch, to forget the mess in your head.

But it’s not enough anymore.

You try to speak again, but your words come out jumbled, like you’re struggling to find the right pieces to fit together.

“I… I don’t know. We’re not the same anymore.” You let out a shaky breath, frustrated with yourself for not being able to explain the mess of feelings inside your chest. “It’s like we’re just… strangers now. I can’t keep pretending it’s the same, Vi.”

Vi’s hands stay on your waist, but you feel her pause for a moment. She pulls back just a little, enough to look at you, but not enough to fully let go.

You can hear the uncertainty in her voice when she speaks, “What? It’s still us. You and me. I—” She swallows, and you can hear the faint tremor in her words. “I thought we were okay.”

You shake your head, your chest tight.

“We’re not. We haven’t been for a while. And, I can’t tell if you even notice. Do you? You’re… you’re so far away, and I’m just… here.” The pain in your voice stings, but it feels like it’s the only truth you have left. “And I don’t know how to make it work anymore. I don’t know how to feel close to you when you’re a million miles away all the time.”

Vi’s arms move again, but this time, they’re softer, as if she’s afraid you’ll break under her touch.

“Don’t say that. I-I do notice. I do. I know it’s been a bit rough lately, but we can fix this… right? We’ve always been able to fix things before.” She tries to lighten the air, a little laugh escaping her lips as if she’s trying to erase the tension in the air. “I-I promise to call more, baby, please—”

But it doesn’t reach you.

You step back from her, the space between you both growing with each step, and for the first time in so long, you feel something other than the ache in your chest. It’s cold, too cold, and the distance feels like it’s swallowing you whole.

Vi’s arms drop at her sides, her hands twitching as if she doesn’t know what to do with them.

She watches you carefully, her eyes wide as you move away. When she tries to move closer, you flinch. It’s instinct, something you didn’t mean to do, but you can’t help it. You just need space.

And Vi hates it.

“I wanna go home,” you say, your voice shaking with the everything you’ve been trying to ignore, trying to bury.

Vi’s smile falters, her brows furrow as she processes your words. She takes a small step toward you, the panic creeping into her voice. “O-Okay. I-I’ll call a cab and we can go back to the hotel and—“

You cut her off before she can finish, your heart hammering in your chest. “No, Vi. I want to go back home. I don’t… I don’t belong here with you.”

The ring in her ears and as soon as they leave your lips, you can see the color drain from Vi’s face. Her breath catches in her throat, and you watch her, eyes wide, disbelief settling in. She furrows her eyebrows, her entire posture faltering as she tries to process what you just said.

“What?” she whispers.

She takes a shaky breath, her gaze searching your face, looking for any sign that this might be some kind of cruel joke, some kind of misunderstanding.

But you can’t give her that. You can’t pretend anymore.

“I just…” you start, but the words get caught in your throat, like you’re suffocating on them. You look at her, at the girl you once knew better than anyone else, and you realize that you’re not the same person anymore. “I thought I could keep pretending, but I can’t. And… I-I don’t see how we can change anything right now. I’m sorry, I—”

Vi opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She just stares at you, like she’s trying to wrap her mind around what’s happening, and in her silence, you hear all the things you can’t say.

The tears begin yo roll down your cheeks and Vi wants to wipe them away immediately, wants to take all that pain you’re feeling away for good… but…

“I need to go home,” you whisper again, this time your voice firmer, because if you don’t say it again, you might never leave.

And the look in her eyes—this heartbreaking, raw pain that flits across her face—makes your heart shatter even more.

Because you never wanted to hurt her.

But you’re not sure how to fix any of this. How to find your way back when it feels like everything between you two has crumbled into dust.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, but the words feel so small. So insignificant.

Vi doesn’t say anything at first, just stands there, frozen in place. She swallows hard, her lips trembling as she finally finds her voice.

“I thought we were… I thought you wanted to be with me.”

“I always want to be with you, I do, but this—” you bring a hand up, wiping your cheeks quickly. “What did you think was gonna to happen after this weekend’s over? That we’d have a great time here together, then everything would be okay? All of our problems aren’t just magically gonna disappear, Vi… You barely call. You barely text. And I’ll go back home and you’ll stay here and I… What, I won’t see you again for another four—five months? I-I cant be in a relationship with someone who—fuck, with someone who can’t even really be with me. And I don’t want to make you choose. I can’t make you choose but, Vi…”

Her eyes widen in panic, her face twisting with desperation.

“Don’t say that. I-I can fix this. We can fix this, baby, just—” she starts, her voice broken, her words faltering, as though she’s trying to pull something, anything, to make things right.

“Stop it, Violet,” you say quiet.

“No, no, just—just tell me what to do,” she says. She’s shaking, but it’s not the gentle tremor of someone trying to hold it together. It’s raw. It’s frantic. “Tell me what I need to do to, please—”

You stand your ground, feeling the anger swell within you as her frustration starts to mirror your own.

“Stop it.”

“I love you.”

You freeze. Your heart skips a beat, and for a split second, you wonder if she’s right, if there’s a chance, if somehow everything can go back to how it used to be.

But then the reality sets in.

“Are you happy with me, Vi?” You ask.

Vi looks at you and furrows her brows, confused at the question, “Of course, I am—”

“You’re happy with the way things are right now? Really?”

Vi freezes, the words caught in her throat. The certainty she usually wears like armor slips away.

“You’re happy with how far apart we always are? You’re happy that we barely talk anymore? That we don’t have time for each other anymore? T-That when I go home, you’ll forget all about me until you suddenly remember that you have a girlfriend miles and miles away, just waiting for you to call or pick up your damn phone?”

“I…” she stammers, her brow furrowing as she tries to find the right thing to say, but nothing feels right. She’s taken aback, not just by your question but by the realization behind it—the way your words cut through the illusion that she’s been clinging to, that everything is okay.

The silence between you stretches for so long and Vi fucking hates it. She hates the way you’re looking at her, as if you already know the answer she’s too afraid to give. Because deep down, she knows she’s not happy—not with the distance, not with the missed calls and the half-hearted promises, not with the way she’s been letting you slip away.

But admitting that feels like admitting defeat, like saying out loud that she’s failing you, failing this.

“I—” she tries again, but she looks away, her jaw tightening. “I’m sorry.”

She wants to say that she’s happy, that you’re enough, that she wouldn’t trade this for anything—but the truth is, she doesn’t even know what this is anymore either.

And by the look in your eyes, neither do you.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, before opening them again to look up at her. Your hand reaches up, trembling slightly, and cups Vi’s cheek. Her skin is warm, damp from the tears she didn’t realize had fallen until now. The moment your palm makes contact, Vi leans into it instinctively. Her eyes flutter closed, and her shoulders quake as she lets out the softest, most broken sound—a quiet sob she tries to hide but can’t.

“Don’t,” she whispers, shaky and fragile. “Please…”

You don’t pull your hand away. Instead, your thumb brushes along the line of her cheekbone, and how gentle you were with her makes her cry harder. She feels your breath, and she hates how much she craves you, hates how much it hurts.

You swallow hard, the sound of your barely louder than a breath as you say, “This isn’t good for us.”

Vi’s eyes snap open, bloodshot and wide, her lips parting in disbelief. For a second, she freezes, the words not fully sinking in, like her brain refuses to process them.

“We should stop,” you say again, softer this time. Your hand is still on her cheek, and Vi clings to it, her larger hand wrapping around yours as though she could keep you there forever. “We’re hurting each other, Violet. We’ve been hurting each other for a while now.”

“No,” Vi pleads, shaking her head, her voice so weak you could barely hear her as she presses harder into your touch, desperate. “I don’t wanna stop. Please, just—let me fix this—”

You shake your head, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay, though they’re already blurring your vision.

“It’s not about fixing anything, Vi. We’re just in two completely different places and…” Your voice falters for a moment, breaking. “…and it’s not working for us.”

Vi’s breath hitches, and the hand gripping yours starts to tremble.

“I don’t know how to—” Her voice cracks, and she looks down, her tears falling freely onto the ground. “I don’t know how to do any of this this without you.”

Your heart clenches painfully, and for a fleeting second, you want to take it all back. You lean down slightly, pressing your forehead to hers, closing your eyes.

“Yeah, you do,” you whisper, the words like a final goodbye. “You’ve been doing all of this without me already.”

She shakes her head softly, “That’s not true.”

Vi’s breath comes out shaky, her tears mingling with yours as she presses herself closer, trying to savor the moment, to memorize the feel of you before it slips away entirely.

“I love you,” she says, words trembling as if the words are the last lifeline she has left to offer.

She watches you closely, her wide, teary eyes searching yours, desperate for something—anything—to tell her this isn’t the end.

But you don’t say it back right away.

And for those few agonizing seconds, the silence feels suffocating. Vi’s heart pounds painfully in her chest, and a lump forms in her throat, threatening to choke her. Her lips part to say something, to plead again, but before she can, you finally speak.

“I love you, Violet.”

It’s everything Vi wanted to hear, but as soon as the words leave your lips, they cut deeper than any silence ever could. There’s a softness to your voice, a finality in the way you say it, and Vi knows.

She knows what it means, what you’re trying to say without saying it outright.

And it hurts so fucking bad.

Her breath catches, and her hands drop slightly from where they’d been holding you, as if the weight of the words has drained her strength.

She shakes her head, voice cracking as she stammers, “Don’t say it like that.”

You look at her with so much tenderness it almost shatters her completely, but it’s that softness that makes it clear you’ve already made up your mind.

“Vi,” you whisper, and the way you say her name only makes the tears come faster.

She hates it. She hates how much of a goodbye it sounds.

“I love you so much,” she says, words breaking, barely audible now.

But even as the words leave her mouth, she knows they’re futile. She knows that no matter how much she loves you, no matter how much she tries to hold on, she can’t stop you from slipping through her fingers.

And for the first time, the love she’s always clung to feels hollow, like it’s not enough to keep you here.

Like she’s already lost you.

After a moment, you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to Vi’s cheek, the warmth of your lips lingering on her skin.

Vi closes her eyes at the touch, savoring it, even though something deep inside her tells her this is the last time. She wants to hold onto it, to freeze this moment, to make you stay just a little longer. But you’re already stepping back, pulling away from her reach.

“I’m gonna head back to the hotel,” you say quietly.

Vi nods instinctively, her breath catching in her throat as she responds, “I’ll go with you.”

Just a little more time, she thinks. She just wants whatever time she could get with you. Her voice is so weak under her breath, but she takes a step forward, already moving to follow, to stay by your side no matter what.

But then you stop her.

You place a hand up between you—not to push her away, but enough to keep her there, frozen in place. And when she sees the look in your eyes, Vi feels the first crack split through her chest.

“I’ll be okay,” you say softly. “I’ll call a cab and find my way back.”

It’s not the words themselves that break her; it’s the way you say them, like you’re letting her go in every sense of the word. Her heart shatters, the pieces falling one by one, and she doesn’t know how to stop it. She doesn’t know how to stop you.

“Let me go with you,” she breathes out, her voice, desperate to see more of you for as long as she still can.

But you shake your head gently, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill over, and she knows there’s no changing your mind.

She’s never felt so powerless, so useless, and all she can do is stand there, watching you walk away, feeling like you’re taking every part of her with you.

She watches your silhouette grow smaller and smaller, her mind clinging to every detail—how your hair looked under the dim streetlights, how soft your lips felt against her cheek, how your voice cracked when you said her name. She already misses all of it, every little piece of you.

But deep down, she knows she’s been missing you for far longer than just tonight.

The air is damp and Vi doesn’t move. She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing there, rooted to the ground, staring at the spot where you disappeared from her sight. A faint drizzle begins, tiny drops kissing her skin. She barely notices it at first, but soon the rain falls harder, soaking through her clothes.

She shivers, but she doesn’t move. Her hands fall limply at her sides, her mind replaying every moment of the night, every word you said, every second she couldn’t hold on to you. Her knees feel weak, but the ache in her chest is worse.

She wants to run after you, to stop you, but even if she said all the right words, she knows you’d still be leaving.

And it’s her fault, she thinks. She let it all slip away.

Hours pass, or maybe just minutes—it doesn’t matter. By the time she finally stumbles back to the party, her hair is dripping, her hands are trembling, and her heart feels hollow.

You booked the earliest flight you could, and as the sky begins to lighten, you pull your coat tighter around you and make your way to the airport.

In the next couple of days, in a big headline on your phone, you find out that Vi punched someone at that party.

SATURDAY, PRESENT DAY.

The hum of soft music drifted through the flower shop as you sat at the counter, a list of names and scribbled notes sprawled out in front of you. A steaming cup of tea sat untouched by your elbow, the faint aroma of lavender and honey filling the air.

You tapped your pen lightly against the edge of the paper, squinting at Mel’s unusually messy handwriting.

“Does Jayce even know this many people?” you muttered, half to yourself and half to Mel, who sat cross-legged on a stool across from you, flipping through her wedding binder.

Mel let out a melodious laugh, shaking her head.

“Oh, you’d be surprised. He seems to think everyone he’s ever spoken to needs a seat at this wedding.”

She reached over and plucked the list from your hands, glancing at the names.

“This is ridiculous. He even invited his college professor,” she squinted, pointing at a name near the bottom of the page, “—Heimer…dinger?”

You laughed softly, shrugging. “Don’t look at me.”

Mel groaned, leaning back and rubbing her temples. “I swear, at this rate, we’re going to have to build a second venue just to fit all these people.”

“Maybe you could just cut the guest list in half,” you suggested lightly, marking a few names off with your pen. “Say the venue has a sudden capacity issue.”

She smirked. “Tempting. Though, knowing Jayce, he’d probably build a whole new venue himself just to make sure no one gets left out.”

You smiled at her, then turned your attention back to the seating chart—you were only halfway through the list. You could feel the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through the shop’s windows. The scent of fresh blooms mixed with the faint perfume Mel always wore, filling the air with a sense of comfort you’ve gotten familiar with long ago.

“Do you think my mother will mind sitting next to Jayce’s?” Mel asks, uncertain. She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and frowns at the chart like it’s a puzzle she just can’t solve.

You glance up at her and let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I think they’re are old enough to behave for one meal.”

Mel sighs, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “You clearly haven’t met my family.”

“Yes, I have,” you roll your eyes and lean forward, studying the chart. “Okay, well… how about this?”

You move a few names around, scribbling quick arrows to new spots.

“We put your mom near your college friends. She can’t cause too much trouble if they’re surrounded by strangers.”

Mel grins at you, resting her chin on her hand as she watches you work.

“Perfect,” she says.

“How’s your mom holding up with all of this?” Mel asked suddenly, watching you as you meticulously rearranged the tiny paper name tags on the chart.

“She’s good,” you replied, your voice soft. “Excited, mostly. She keeps talking about how nice it is to have the shop involved in something so big.”

You paused, your hand hovering over one of the name tags.

“She’s just happy to see you and Jayce so… settled, I guess.”

Mel tilted her head, studying you with a thoughtful look in her eyes. “And you? How are you holding up?”

You hesitated, your fingers lightly brushing against the edge of the seating chart. For a moment, you considered giving her the same polite, surface-level answer you gave everyone else. But this was Mel—your best friend, the one person who’d known you through every high and low.

“I’m fine,” you said finally, though the words felt heavier than they should have. “Really.”

Mel’s gaze softened, but she didn’t push. Instead, she reached over and placed a reassuring hand on yours, her smile warm and understanding. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing great. And if you need anything—anything at all—you know I’m here.”

The phone rings before you can reply. You instinctively reach for it, the receiver cool against your hand as you press it to your ear. “Lane Florals, how can I help you?”

“Oh, hey! It’s Jayce,” a familiar voice greets you cheerfully on the other end. “Just checking in to see if Mel’s still holding you hostage over there.”

You laugh softly. “Hostage is a strong word, but yes, we’re almost done.”

Mel perks up at the sound of his name and reaches for the phone.

“Give me that,” she says playfully, taking it from you. “Jayce, we’ve been over this—your input doesn’t count unless you actually help with something.”

As Mel steps into the back to argue with her fiancé, you sit back in the chair, momentarily tuning out the sound of her voice. Your eyes wander around the shop, landing on the bundles of flowers waiting to be arranged, the sunlight filtering in through the windows, and the stillness of this place.

You absently twirl the pen in your hand, your mind drifting for a moment. It’s easy to stay busy here, to focus on what’s in front of you instead of the ache you don’t like to name.

“Jayce insists we keep his cousins together,” Mel said with a playful roll of her eyes as she returned to you. “I love him, but the man doesn’t understand how chaotic that side of the family is.”

“Maybe put them near the bar. That way they won’t bother anyone too much,” you suggested, earning a grateful laugh from Mel.

“Alright, I think we’ve almost got it,” she said, standing up to pour herself a glass of water.

Left alone for a moment, you leaned over the chart, eyes scanning the names to double-check the placements. Your gaze moved quickly at first, recognizing some familiar names and skimming unfamiliar ones, until it landed on something—towards the end of the list—that made your breath hitch.

Violet Lanes.

It was there, clear as day—her name printed neatly on a delicate little card, tucked beside a few other names at one of the smaller tables. Your hands stilled, hovering over the paper as a wave of something sharp and overwhelming crashed over you.

“Hey, you okay?” Mel’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You swallowed hard, nodding quickly.

“Yeah, I just—” You glanced down at the name again, your fingers brushing against the edge of the paper. “I’m fine.”

Mel’s eyes softened as she walked over, leaning over your shoulder. She followed your gaze to the card and let out a quiet sigh.

“I was going to tell you,” she said gently. “Jayce invited her. You know how they’ve been since high school. They’ve been in touch for a while, I guess. He didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

You nodded again, but the tightness in your chest didn’t ease.

“It’s fine,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow.

Mel reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“If it’s too much, I can figure something out,” she offered. “She hasn’t even confirmed with us yet… She’s probably so busy anyway.”

You shook your head, forcing a small smile. “No, it’s… it’s your wedding. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Mel, really. It’s okay,” you threw on one of the best fake smiles you could give. “It just caught me off guard, is all.”

Mel studies you for a moment, her gaze lingering on your face. “If you don’t want her there, I can tell Jayce—”

You cut her off with a quick shake of your head. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I promise.”

The words taste bitter on your tongue, but you push through it. The last thing you want is for Mel to feel guilty, or worse, pitying you.

She doesn’t seem convinced, but she nods anyway, going back to arranging the seating chart. You know she’s trying to keep things light, to keep you from feeling weighed down by whatever’s hanging in the air. And maybe you’re fooling yourself into thinking you’re not still carrying it.

But the truth is, you don’t know what to do with the ghost of her, or your love for her, lingering between everything you do.

“Hey,” Mel says after a beat, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Want to grab a coffee after we finish here? We could use a break.”

You nod, grateful for the distraction. “That sounds good.”

Glancing at the seating chart again, your finger rests on the name that’s still too familiar.

series masterlist | next chapter

taglist: @norwayromanoff @killuomi @wicked-laugh @bunnyrose01 @jupitism @sawaagyapong @trulyzizi @saturnhas82moons @oidloid @mk-a-1 @pornoangelz @savedforlaterr @catrapplesauces @ishamyshaylaaa @baylegend6 @auraclus @theapollochronicles @jivimatcha @chobssss @mystar-girl57 @narislvr @danonered @mikellie @xxyourlocaledgelordxx @thalchmy

if you would like to be added to the taglist please leave a comment on the series masterlist post (its easier for me to track that way!)

[arciam]

Underrated JayVik moments/lines (3/∞)

[The fact that Viktor turned away before Jayce looked at him like that.]

Piggybacking off of part 2, I still thought this one deserved its own entry.

There is that popular theory that you can actually pinpoint the exact moment when Viktor buries the idea that he might ever have a chance with Jayce, which, of course, is this one:

(While I am a bit on the fence about it, not only does it make for the more interesting story, but also from an animation standpoint I don't think it's an accident that Viktor - and his reaction - takes deadass centre frame here. Especially if what they had wanted to show off here was JayMel, it makes no fucking sense.)

So the pure tragedy that is Viktor - likely not even an hour prior - completely missing the fact that Jayce was looking equally starstruck at the back of his head him beautifully sets the stage for that same dance to continue for years to come.

(For further examples of said dance, refer to part 2.)

Part 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/7½/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20

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[myswanderlust]

⭒ staring meljay, jayvik and skyvik

!MDNI! !this has 18+ material!

it’s almost valentines and i miss my babies already! but i wanted to make a multi character w/ reader because all ships are my favorite.

please! please!- do not hate for the diversity of the ships or say how your ship is “better” idc and we are inclusive here. i’m a proud shipper of ALL. this post is not a debate, it’s a fanfic!

!sfw and nsfw!

⭒ jaymel- (sfw)

jayce and mel are two romantic people. jayce is a soft and assertive to his kindness while mel is a shot-caller and it shows in her affection more times than not. when reader is with the two of them, their love is almost overwhelmingly brilliant. mel is a gorgeous goddess that takes care of you and jayce, while jayce is a textbook golden retriver. when mel teases you , he will whine for you. her words have always had a giant effect on the two of you and it would be untrue to say otherwise.

when mel is gone, you and jayce miss her with every vessel of your being and talk about her at any chance, but can also enjoy your times alone with the other.

when jayce is gone, you and mel debate on visiting him from his kind presence being missed so deeply.

while mel is busy with the counsel and jayce is working on hextech, you are perishing. the perfect times are with the three of you. when there is endless cuddling, food and making fun of how jayce easts his burgers, it is too much fun and when they both are not around you, you always miss it.

(nsfw)

remember how we mentioned that jayce and mel are romantic? well sex with them can be a different story. they are textbook amazing in their lovey-dovey times, but in a more intimate setting, they are extremely parallel. when mel is doming, you and jayce are having a hard time not cumming, but she never lets either of you too fast. oh no. you cannot come until she tells you. if either of you fail to listen to her very explicit instructions, game over. the other will have to join in the domination along side mel, and it will not be merciful.

when it is you on the chopping block, jayce is a pathetic mess. he will stare down at your body in a spent state and eye mel to 'give them a break'. mel does not care. jayce should be lucky mel doesn't punish him for not listening to her without restraint. jayce bites down a smile when she twists his nipple at his slow attempt to her orders.

mel will touch her soaked heat at jayce, never faltering from his endless torture to you. his tongue touching and licking every place he knew would drive you closer to an orgasm, since he loved watching you cum on his tongue or in his mouth; so eager to please. mel would never let him watch his favorite part of giving you head, having to pull his head away by his hair many times. "they does not come until i have given permission, jayce. must i teach you a lesson about listening to clear instructions?" jayce whimpers and shakes his head. "good. continue." she lets go of her steady grip on his hair and let him continue on your sensitive sex until his jaw was slack.

if jayce was on the chopping block, things are very different. if he cums in mel's hand after she told him directly that he couldn't, she would gently grab your hand to straddle the poor boys' waist before stroking him one last time and burying his cock inside of you. he would throw his head back in overstimulation and grab your hips immediately.

mel would smack both hands away before letting her hands sneak up your naked waist to your nipples. she was rewarding you, while punishing him. she whispers a quick, "ride him, my love." before taking a seat behind you and letting her hand trail your sex for maximum pleasure. your hand would fall to his chiseled chest and grind and bounce on his cock. jayce would finally feel his pressure build, expecting mel to rip it away from him, though the pleasure built and hit its peak, resulting in his astounding groans and whimpers. he stared up confused, eyebrows furrowed and face still contracted from the previous orgasm. both of you were quiet before mel whispers to you again and he watches your eyes glint turn from pleasure to a quick smile with a bitten lip, staring down into jayce's worn out figure. he would look up in disbelief.

"i want his shooting blanks, my love. until he is begging us to stop, since he cannot listen."

⭒ jayvik- (sfw)

jayvik are SO LOVEY. these two boys have always and will always show endless love to reader. their personalities match in a beautiful way, like a puzzle. jayce, as mentioned before, is extremely giving, always putting you and viktor first.

little times, like when the three of you are finally home and all three of you need a shower more than anything. jayce is the first to give up the hot water for the two of you. he doesn’t care how cold it gets, and if there was a time he preferred a hot shower, he’ll just grab viktor when you are in the shower and jump in with you. then it’s them messing up your calm shower to tickle and bite you playfully. there's not much showering happening all together.

viktor is a sweet but almost always sarcastic in his cute ways. his brain works on heavy reason and that will translate into the relationship between you and jayce. viktor will not let a day or night go by without a cuddle session, at least you and him but if possible with all three of you. something about the serotonin blah blah, some science-y stuff about how cuddling is fantastic way to relieve stress. that way when jayce and you poke at him for being so passionate about the cuddling, he can say it is for "science". (he just wants to cuddle)

(nsfw)

viktor is the dominate of the trio, but a soft dom. asking jayce to please you before letting the full episode transpire, or letting you take both viktor and jayce into your talented mouth one by one. he relishes in the way jayce looks when your giving him the pleasure of your mouth; his own mouth ajar as on of his arm hangs to cover his eyes, knowing if he looks down, it is over for him.

viktor absolutely loves when you are all three making love. when they have prepped you perfectly to take them both and when they do ease into you, the pain never truly falters the first few minutes. they are big guys. jayce with a thicker girth while viktor sores the sky with his length. they both hit your spot without much effort and while it is so very intense, the slow sensuality makes it an arousing experience. they are kind and true to your body, already four plus orgasms in. jayce usually takes his spot on the bottom to watch the beauty of his two lovers. viktor is jealous of his spot so they must switch. he also wants to see the readers breath-taking face along with jayce's fucked out expression. viktor does not mind being behind you either, so he can whisper in your ears about the beauty you bless him with every single day; how much he loves you in that thick accent you love so much.

"my gorgeous love, i love feeling you around me. you never fail to make us the happiest men in the planet."

jayce loves when the three of you are fighting for dominance and being humbled by viktor. (he loses on purpose since he loves being dommed by either of you). he especially loves when viktor teaches you how to torment him the most. viktor always being the master, made you throw in his towel at times and take the reins on him because he loves to pleasure the two of you all the time.  jayce's favorite memory, is when they two of were laying down as viktor had his way with the two of you and when you both finished, viktor was taken down to the bed by jayce and you both clung your mouths to him. your lips on his lips. viktor was taken back by the sudden switch, but would be lying if he said he didn't love the surprise.

his hands slide to take hold of your backs and feel you both slowly make your way down to his twitching erection. he moans when jayce is the first to lick up the prominent vein, viktor's head flying back with a light hiss. you slide a hand up and down his arm in comfort as your eyes never leave jayce's face, or mouth to be more specific. he had already started taking viktor's lengthy cock down until he could not any longer. you hand flies to jayce's hair, pushing it back to see his handsome face.

you would whisper the same sweet nothings to viktor as the pleasure takes over him. his eyes can't end the constant switch between you and jayce, eyes watery and pleading for more. you then bring yourself next to jayce and smile at him before up at viktor. jayce had a hard time stopping his menstruations on viktor but does as you stroke and lightly tease him. you give jayce a look which he understands immediately. in a quick moment, viktor is in immense pleasure; jayce is sucking hard between viktor's balls and you are chocking lightly on is length.

jayce has a quick moment of extreme gratitude, touching your sex from next to him: "i love you both, so so much.."

⭒ skyvik- (sfw)

sky and viktor together took a ton of work. sky needed to get over her everlasting fear of what her crush on viktor did to her; she struggled speaking to him, but nonetheless, viktor knew and felt the same way. he loved her, and when you come around, they loved you more than word could describe. they were both nervous to ask if you would be alright with being with the two of them, since they loved each other but you had thrown off what they were used to. neither of them knew much of polyamorous relationships, but knew they were willing to try when they met you.

viktor came to sky first, admitting that he felt feelings alike to how he felt for her, explaining that it did not change anything: he panicked at her silence and she was quick to calm his nerves, letting him know that she felt the same about you. when they finally came to you, you were relieved. you loved the both of them but could never could imagine choosing either one without the other.

sky was always timid, adorable and blushed for what seemed like years at the praise you and viktor would give her from days prior. sky would remember it all the time. viktor, however, would take the flirting or praise to heart, but always double it back to either of you. if the two of you tried to get viktor to blush just like sky would, he would end up making the two of you blush harder than a person ever could.

(nsfw)

with sky being so timid, sex was very fun for you and viktor at the beginning. she loved the sex, but could never make heavy eye contact, talk or uncover her face for more than two minutes, which made it was easy to tease her because of it. when the relationship gets more comfortable, sky really was hiding the true freak she was.

sky loves doing stuff to you, but loves it more when viktor would watch the two of you. she was in love with him for years, and seeing him have a hard time containing his need when watching the two of you go at it would send her hurdling towards her orgasms faster than anything that either you or viktor could actually do to her.  viktor knows she loves when he watches from her heavy eye contact with him when you two are not facing each other. she is vocal, but in ways that means she sprouts gibberish or incoherency's when she's in immense pleasure.

when you and her are alone, or in missionary, her eyes are all on you. she loves watching you when you're grinding into or onto her; how your face flushes. her eye contact is consistent and another one of her biggest turn-on's. sky absolutely loves when you are trying to keep your eyes open to stare at her stunning face but can't help but toss your head back or close your eyes because she feels so good to you.

"plea-se keep your eyes on me, i love you.. i love this."

"don't-t stop.. 'mgh"

viktor loves when all three of you are together for sex, initially when you ride him or his face and sky does the other. the pleasure is exceedingly overwhelming to him. his stomach flutters at every moan, whimper and whine; making the both of you feel good at the same time drives him crazy. he also always loves when you or sky are on the bottom, getting fucked by him while the other rides on the others face, or simply lays next to them, kissing, licking or touching. when he is alone with either of you, sex is not always in the conversation because the three of you know its better to wait until you are all together. if it does happen, he always makes it up to the other (meaning he fucks both of you).

when the three of you finish, he will have the two of you laying next to the other, sky already cuddled into your frame and falling into slumber. he puts both hands on both of you faces, cradling your features and rubbing comfort into your skin,

"the loves of my life."

"i have never felt so favored by the universe to have the two of you."

! re-blogs are appraised !

i am shadow-banned and have been for a minute :( hope this gets noticed for my loves that love mel, vik, jayce and sky!

[furioussouls]

As much as I like the jayvik ship, the way that a lot of jayvik shippers treat Mel is absolutely disgusting. The blatant misogyny and racism and „hating the female character just for getting in the way of the mlm ship“ is unfortunately a tale as old as time. Also, actively seeking out jaycemel content to spam Viktors name in the comments and make everything about jayvik is childish. A lot of you act like the mlm ship becomes less valid if jayce was genuinely in love with a woman/ interested in a woman before and that makes me (and a lot of other queer people) very uncomfortable.

Also, there’s no indicator that Piltover and Zaun are heteronormative and homophobic societies, so it’s also kinda disingenuous when you guys say that Jayce only dated Mel because of „comphet“( which is also a mainly lesbian term in the first place), and yes it’s true that not everything needs to be explicitly said in order to be applied to our real life but there’s not even the slightest bit of evidence that different sexualities are frowned upon.

(None of this is about valid criticism of Mel and her status in society. Also not if you just prefer the jayvik ship over jaymel)

[krdaaaa]

We'll never have peace in the Mel, Jayce, Viktor shipping space will we...

At this point ppl really need to start blocking and muting each other.

Jayce and Mel loved each other and Jayce cared extremely deeply for Viktor (highly likely in the same regard as Mel).

JayMel and JayVik are completely fine ships on there own. (JayMelVik is also great but poly ships aren't my cup of tea)

There are fictional characters at the end of the day. Granted, there is a clear level of love ppl have for them (Especially Mel) because Mel is POC, and fandom spaces already have a shit reputation when talking about POC characters. (Also, I'm not gonna ignore the ableist and classiest talking points I've seen ppl use against Viktor as well, guys c'mon.)

At the end of the day nothing is being solved by yelling at each other, neither group is changing anyone's minds.

I'm so tired of ships wars y'all, I'm too old for this.

Anyway, I loved Mel's Lol champion trailer. Very nice design.

[our-lady-of-laurels]

SkyMel/Hexquad Interview With the Vampire AU 

Mel as Louis

Sky as Lestat

Ekko as Claudia

Jayce as Armand

Viktor as Daniel

I saw another Arcane IWTV AU and I wanted to do one tailored to my own super niche ship that like- 3 people are interested in but hey! IWTV is nothing if not the worlds messiest collection of exes and poly situations so theres a little something for everyone here. Devil's Minion Jayvik, Danlou Melvik, Viktor getting in the middle of Jaymel's divorce situation. Are you seeing the vision?

Ok so in terms of the actual story and "casting" so to speak I wanted to keep the racial dynamic from the amc show, where Lestat holds more power over Louis as a white man and I thought it might be interesting to explore that through the lens of colorism instead, where Sky, as a lighter-skinned black woman, holds more power over both Mel and Ekko.

I thought it would also be fun to see her usual character traits flipped on their head alongside a lot of characters. Shy, docile, and supportive Sky becomes attention-seeking, temperamental, and vicious. Ekko the level-headed, selfless leader and “Boy Savior” becomes volatile, selfish, and victim to the whims of those around him. And Jayce, who, despite his failings, overall tries to be good and kind, and is often pushed into positions he doesn’t want to hold, becomes proactive, scheming, and manipulative. 

Both Mel and Viktor share similarities with Louis and Daniel respectively, and while I think there are some differences, not so much as to completely upend their usual character like the others.

Anyway, this is so fun for me to think about, and it will probably be rattling around in my brain for the next week.

[holliwoobz]

i think my biggest complaint about the arcane character arcs was the backseating of familial relationships to romantic ones?

maybe it was part of the tragedy of it all but it was hard to care about caitvi/jayvik/timebomb/jaymel when there didn’t seem to be any resolution between any of the familial relationships that to me were the core tensions of the show (obviously the sisters vi & pow, but also vi & jinx & vander, jinx & silco, jinx & isha, even mel and ambessa). i don’t think my qualm was that they didn’t have a happy ending (though that would have been nice), but that it seemed like the relationships were pushed around and broken apart just for the shock of betrayal, then kind of just left there at the end of the show. a strong theme threaded through the show was family love, and it was just left dangling in lieu of satisfying romantic arcs

like, vi and jinx deserved to forgive each other. the constant betrayals undermined the “complicated sisterhood that’s always ultimately there for each other” and i honestly lost track of who did what at the end, or even what their relationship was supposed to mean/show. like you’re telling me “big sister loyal to a fault hothead grudge holding” violet gave up on her sister for some police chief pussy?? side eye to the gods.

speaking of jinx, she didn’t really get a satisfying arc for me, especially given the attention she was given in the plot overall. the aftermath of her relationship with silco was pretty much discarded completely, as was her relationship with vander. let’s not even get into her and vi (fym vi calls her jinx and not powder?? the name she had as her kid sister vs the name of her greatest regrets??). isha was the PERFECT mirror of vi/powder and then. That happens and reduces it all moot.

maybe i’m just biased as someone who’s very close with my sibling & adores a good exploration of complex family dynamics but i do feel like there were better ways to tie off the threads than the way they were handled

[skvaderarts]

I only now noticed you asked for jayvik fanfic ideas? I don't know if it's too late, but, so like, silly one-shot of Jayce being worried Heimedinger found out about him and Viktor being a couple, worried of getting kicked out/getting fired because what if it's not allowed when you're co-workers (don't ask how jaymel fits this idea :'D) but Heimedinger just didn't get them being a couple.

Also, Jayce getting violently protective of Viktor and Viktor finding that hot is something i'm surprised I haven't seen a lot. (Then again I don't read the most 🔞 works...and maybe this idea's more fun if it's Post-canon, them living low in a small village?)

Sorry if I misunderstood your asking post. 😅

I LOVE THESE. I love them so much in fact that you've probably seen one of them on the poll you answered yesterday XD That second one? Oh, I have PLANS for that second one you have NO IDEA. I like the way your brain works!

It's never too late to send me ideas! You aren't bothering me at all! You didn't misunderstand! This is exactly what I asked for. MOAR!