#(lucianna and monty. don't need a ring for my finger; just need a steady hand to hold)

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LUCIANNA ‘LUCILLE’ HOWARD &. EMMETT ‘MONTY’ MONTGOMERY — “please...you’re so beautiful. you may eat me if you like. i’d sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else.” for @asystcle

louise glück, poems 1962-2012; “marathon” // elvira madigan (1967) dir. bo widerberg // salma deera, letters from medea // richard siken, crush // dara scully, the caress // margaret atwood, power politics // susan sontag, as consciousness is harnessed to flesh: journals & notebooks, 1964 – 1980 // atonement (2007) dir. joe wright // charles dickens, great expectations // antonio canova, psyche revived by cupid’s kiss (1787)

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for @asystcle // our ships as couples that make me feel incredibly unwell and unhinged.

part iii. lucille &. monty as…anna &. vronsky — “don’t you know that you’re all my life to me? but i know no peace, and i can’t give it to you; all myself—and love...yes. i can’t think of you and myself apart. you and i are one to me. and i see no chance before us of peace for me or for you. i see a chance of despair, of wretchedness...or i see a chance of bliss, what bliss!...can it be there’s no chance of it?”

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welcome to...the belle & mackenzie cinematic universe —

          for @hclyrcller, cofounder of mad studios (mutually assured destruction)

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🤍🤍🤍🤍 for you know who, bitch! (luv u)

me seeing this in my inbox like i didn't ask you to send me memes 😯

RELATIONSHIP HEADCANON MEMES. for @hclyrcller luv u

aaron &. willow——

Who cooks meals for the other? They cook for each other! I think Aaron and Willow are the type of couple who have set date nights, and they like to alternate on who comes up with the plan but I also think they’re very casual about it

Who spams the other with memes? Willow :)

Who likes to tidy around the house? I think Aaron most likely enjoys it more because spending most of his adolescence on a tour bus kind of resulted in him reveling in having a real home to clean up

Who likes to play pranks on the other? Willow would absolutely play pranks on Aaron more often, but Aaron would save really good pranks for Willow and do them sporadically so she never catches on

Who asked the other to move in with them? I think it was a conversation between the two of them and where they think they’re at in their relationship, but considering Aaron lives in a loft with roommates, he would ask to find a place for just the two of them

Who is in charge of the music during a car ride? Aaron says that he’s in charge and then Willow changes the song every five seconds

Who is more likely to tickle the other mercilessly? Aaron >:)

Who needs to hold the other during scary movies? I don’t know if either of them would be scared tbh

Who has to help the other when it comes to technology? They’re both fine with technology

Who likes to get a bit frisky in public / an inappropriate setting? That’s a Willow thing, baby!!! Aaron’s not mad about it tho

Who wakes up first, and do they wake up the other or let them rest? Tbh I think it depends on what their schedules are for the day. If Aaron has a show one night and Willow wakes up earlier the following morning, she wouldn’t wake him up, but there are also times when Aaron has to be up first and may or may not wake her up, etc. They don’t follow normal 9–5 schedules so it’s not always consistent.

Who is always taking pictures of the other when they aren’t looking? Willow lmaooo Aaron tries to take good pictures of Willow on his phone but he’s not the best at catching the perfect moments. It’s great for having embarrassing pictures of her as his contact photo, though

Who always forgets their wallet and never ends up paying for anything? Willow had to force Aaron to put his card on his phone because he kept forgetting his wallet

Who can’t sleep because the other snores or moves too much at night? I think Aaron is a very still and silent sleeper (again, because of living on a tour bus for a long time), but I don’t know if it’s Willow

Who is better at video games, and do they let the other win or show no mercy? They’re both ruthless

Who always gets up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and accidentally wakes up the other? Probably Willow

blake &. cami——

Who cooks meals for the other? Camille :’) cooking is a love language for her. The first time she cooked a meal for Blake, she was very nervous

Who spams the other with memes? Camille likes to spam Blake when he’s at work

Who likes to tidy around the house? Blake. Camille isn’t messy but she is forgetful and she likes to have a lot of stuff out

Who likes to play pranks on the other? I don’t think they’re pranking people

Who asked the other to move in with them? Well :/ their parents technically

Who is in charge of the music during a car ride? Camille takes full control and then slaps Blake’s hand if he tries to change it

Who is more likely to tickle the other mercilessly? Blake, but rarely

Who needs to hold the other during scary movies? Camille would see Blake get nervous during a scary movie and then tease him about wanting her to hold him

Who has to help the other when it comes to technology? They’re both fine with it

Who likes to get a bit frisky in public / an inappropriate setting? They’re both pretty into it. I think Camille was shocked at how into it Blake was

Who wakes up first, and do they wake up the other or let them rest? They’re both up pretty early, Blake because he has to be up for work and Camille because she actually really enjoys waking up early regardless of her terrible sleeping habits

Who is always taking pictures of the other when they aren’t looking? They both take pictures of each other all the time

Who always forgets their wallet and never ends up paying for anything? Camille

Who can’t sleep because the other snores or moves too much at night? Camille will complain that Blake’s snoring is keeping her up but she’s just being dramatic

Who is better at video games, and do they let the other win or show no mercy? Camille’s never touch a video game controller in her life

Who always gets up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and accidentally wakes up the other? Camille

lucille &. monty——

Who cooks meals for the other? I think Monty would want to cook for Lucille, but she loves to bake for him

Who spams the other with memes? Monty would

Who likes to tidy around the house? I think they’re both pretty good at keeping their house neat

Who likes to play pranks on the other? Lucille. She grew up in a house with four other sister, she’s pretty good at it

Who asked the other to move in with them? Monty did 😭

Who is in charge of the music during a car ride? Monty. Lucille doesn’t care much

Who is more likely to tickle the other mercilessly? Monty would absolutely

Who needs to hold the other during scary movies? Monty would hold Lucille :’)

Who has to help the other when it comes to technology? They’d both be lost

Who likes to get a bit frisky in public / an inappropriate setting? Hear me out. Lucille

Who wakes up first, and do they wake up the other or let them rest? I think Lucille wakes up earlier but she would let Monty sleep in

Who is always taking pictures of the other when they aren’t looking? Both :)

Who always forgets their wallet and never ends up paying for anything? Neither of them

Who can’t sleep because the other snores or moves too much at night? Lucille is a pretty restless sleeper

Who is better at video games, and do they let the other win or show no mercy? Mayyybe Monty would be better but he would also pretend to suck so Lucille could win

Who always gets up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and accidentally wakes up the other? They both do it probably

nari &. samir——

Who cooks meals for the other? Nari can barely boil water and I feel like Samir is a “I eat food for sustenance, not enjoyment” kind of person 💀 they get takeout if i’m wrong pls correct me

Who spams the other with memes? Nari would do it just to frustrate him

Who likes to tidy around the house? I get Samir vibes, I feel like he’s pretty fussy about it. Nari is a clutter queen <3

Who likes to play pranks on the other? I don’t think they’re pranking people. Neither of them have great senses of genuine humor, their humor is more sarcastic or dry and cutting than like, jokes yk

Who asked the other to move in with them? I imagine one day Nari just didn’t go home and neither of them ever spoke about it

Who is in charge of the music during a car ride? They fight over the music

Who is more likely to tickle the other mercilessly? Nari isn’t ticklish but she would at least try with Samir

Who needs to hold the other during scary movies? In the beginning Nari pretends to be scared

Who has to help the other when it comes to technology? Nari helps Samir

Who likes to get a bit frisky in public / an inappropriate setting? Nari 💀 Actually you know what, Samir too. They’re heathens

Who wakes up first, and do they wake up the other or let them rest? I feel like Samir is up at the crack of dawn but he does let Nari sleep in. Nari’s sleep schedule is all over the place, but she does usually have to be up early as well to get to rehearsals

Who is always taking pictures of the other when they aren’t looking? I get Samir vibes 😭

Who always forgets their wallet and never ends up paying for anything? Nari

Who can’t sleep because the other snores or moves too much at night? I genuinely feel like neither of make any noise and they sleep completely still

Who is better at video games, and do they let the other win or show no mercy? I swear for the life of me I cannot imagine them playing video games

Who always gets up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and accidentally wakes up the other? Samir’s pretty stealthy and Nari’s a ballerina—they’re both very quiet on their feet. Neither of them.

[julictcapulet]

lucianna howard &. emmett montgomery as———                    A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM.

happy four years of writing together, @asystcle

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( FIX ) for monty & lucille 👀

SEDUCTION STARTERS. written for @rosecolore-d <3 yes i did listen to mirrorball at least six times while writing this :)

( FIX ) Fixing or straightening my mine’s clothes.

Everything about the ball was wonderful except the amount of people whispering about Fred’s absence.

Lucille stood at the edges of the crowd, watching the couples dancing across the floor, pretending like she couldn’t hear the other guests making assumptions and drawing their own conclusions as to why Fred wasn’t present tonight, and more importantly, why Lucille had come without him when everyone knew they were seconds away from a proper engagement.

She hadn’t danced a single dance that night, nor had she done much more than make a circle or two around the room, socializing with the girls she knew were friendly and the few who were genuine enough to ignore the gossip about her. The truth of it was, Lucille wasn’t sure why Fred wasn’t here tonight and the only notice she had been given was a note from him saying that he wouldn’t be in attendance. Had their relationship not been so well-known, Lucille wouldn’t have felt so nervous to attend the ball tonight, but when people saw her, they assumed Fred wouldn’t be far behind, and when he wasn’t, it became strange. Not exactly suspicious, but out of place. There was, of course, a part of her that wondered if Fred would be angry with her when he heard that she’d gone without him, but she quickly brushed it aside and blamed it on her own paranoia from the whispers. He wasn’t mean in the slightest—if anything, he would invite her to tell him all about it on a carriage ride through the country.

The approach of Emmett Montgomery shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise as it did, but Lucille had never quite gotten used to him. “Alone tonight?” he asked in greeting.

Lucille shifted her gaze towards him and offered a smile. “Fred won’t be here tonight, unfortunately. But I wouldn’t miss out on a ball.”

There was a familiarity between them that never faded, nor did Lucille want it to. She didn’t feel uncomfortable standing beside him, nor tense. Only all too aware of his presence next to her. Because that was how it had always been. Monty had always been such a steady fixture in her life since childhood and he had never once inspired a feeling close to discomfort. But she’d never been able to forget that he was there. Not in the same way as Katherine, who would never let you forget she was in the room. Rather, she had always been so attuned to him that it was impossible not to notice.

It didn’t take much time before the two of them moved away from the main ballroom. In one of the smaller rooms, a pretty girl who couldn’t have been much older than Lucille herself was playing the piano, and they settled near the back wall, allowing the music to serve as background noise to their whispered conversation.

It was much like old times, back in the Howard estate where they would invite Monty over for days on end and he would do nothing but make up games on the spot with her sisters and somehow find a spot for each of them. Sophia would often serve as a moderator and make sure no one cheated, while Elizabeth and Katherine fought over which of them would take on the role of leader no matter the game. Lucille would always vouch for Elizabeth, and Anna would sit to the side, spectating with sharp eyes until she felt she grasped the rules well enough to join.

Except now there were no games. There was rarely any laughter like what there used to be, either. Now, it was Lucille and Monty sitting in two mismatched chairs that were placed very close together, and they were miles and countries and continents away from her family, and time was passing by because didn’t it always when she was with him?

It was only when the crowd standing in front of them broke out into applause that they looked up. A different woman had been playing the piano for some time now, but Lucille didn’t recall her coming in. She wondered how much time had passed.

“Don’t you think the other ladies have missed your company?” Monty asked.

Lucille shrugged her shoulders. “Possibly. I should be getting back.”

“You sound very excited about that.”

“Don’t make fun. Not everyone gets to sneak off and gamble and drink without any consequences.”

With that, she stood up and waited for him to do the same. A part of her wondered if the other ladies had in fact missed her company, or if they had continued on like nothing was amiss. The latter seemed more likely, in all honesty, but Lucille didn’t feel any remorse over the fact. She wanted to bring the attention back to their conversation, but she didn’t want to seem like she was desperate for his company. Truthfully, if she couldn’t have his company now, she would rather leave right now. Without anyone to dance with, the night was wasted, and if coming alone was enough to start gossip, dancing with anyone but Fred when he wasn’t around would surely cause a fresh wave of whispering.

Lucille made it to the door of the music room before she turned around to face Monty, standing right behind her. “Are you going back?” she asked. “To the ball?”

“Probably not. It’s not the most interesting night?”

“Going to find something more interesting, then?” Lucille wasn’t even sure what she was insinuating, but she wanted to see Monty shake his head. He gave her no answer at all, and her shoulders tensed. “I think I’ll be going home, then. I’m rather tired.”

It was nothing more than manners for him to offer to walk her back to her carriage, if he was going back to his own as well. Walking through the courtyard was a silent affair, and though it remained comfortable, Lucille wished they hadn’t left that room. She wished they remained inside, where no one would bother them and they could continue passing time like it didn’t matter.

“Miss Howard,” Monty said with an exaggerated air as they approached her carriage, and Lucille rolled her eyes.

“I hate when you call me that,” she told him, curling one hand over the side. “It’s not right.”

“So what is? Lucianna?”

She fell silent, letting the sound of her full name hang in the air between them. It was late and the sky was dark, but she still hoped he couldn’t see her expression. She wanted to hear him say it again. She didn’t dare ask.

He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Lucy?” he continued, raising one eyebrow. “Does that sound right?” he asked.

Yes, she wanted to say, it did. She never wanted him to call her Lucille again, only Lucianna or Lucy, the two names she had claimed for herself and yet never heard from anyone except her family. But she couldn’t find the words.

Monty didn’t seem to notice the war she was having with herself. “Can I pass by the hotel tomorrow? I’d like to say hi to your aunt.”

Lucille gathered herself well enough to roll her eyes. “She doesn’t like you.”

“Of course she does. Come, I’ll help you up.”

She allowed him to take her hand to help her in the carriage, the hem of her gown getting tangled around her feet. Without hesitation, Monty pulled himself up next to her and easily righted the twisted fabric with his free hand. “Don’t trip,” he told her.

She pulled her hand from his as if it burned her and sat down. “Don’t fall,” she replied, pointedly looking away from him.

For a moment, she could have sworn he looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he closed his mouth and hopped back down onto the ground. He didn’t stay, only began walking to his own carriage.

Lucille sat back and brought her hands to her lap, trying to will herself into forgetting about tonight before Monty came to visit tomorrow. “We can go now,” she told the driver, and didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

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for the evermore meme.... "You dropped my hand while dancing, left me out there standing," & "What would he do if he found us out?" for monty/lucille || "Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you," & "Did I shatter you?" for aaron/willow || "After giving you the best I had, tell me what to give after that?" & "Sorry for not making you my centerfold," for blake/camille!

TAYLOR SWIFT; EVERMORE PROMPTS. written for the loml @rosecolore-d <3 <3 <3 enjoy the pain, enjoy seeing the out of the woods references i put into each prompt :)

LUCILLE &. MONTY

you dropped my hand while dancing, left me out there standing

Eyes closed, hands fisted at her sides, Lucille forced herself to not cry.

If she closed her eyes, she wouldn’t have to see Monty standing in front of her, looking at her like he knew every single secret she’d ever buried in her chest and refused to tell, all of them a single whisper of his name.

If she clenched her hands, she wouldn’t have to feel them shaking uncontrollably as they recognized the touch of Monty’s skin against hers, pressing so close she wondered if he meant to mold himself to her body.

The last thing she wanted to do was cry, because of course here was a ball. Of course here was surrounded by friends and acquaintances and Fred, who had smiled at her so calmly and urged her forward when Monty approached her and asked for a dance.

She didn’t deserve him. While he stood aside and spoke to one of his old friends from school, Lucille was out on the ballroom floor, tense only because she knew that if she allowed herself to relax, she would wrap herself around Monty like a vine itching to grow attached to him, just as she always had wanted.

It had made everything about their dance uncomfortable, and she had dropped his hand and fled from the room before Monty could even ask what had gone wrong.

Her face burned red with shame, pressing the back of her head hard against the wall in an attempt to ground herself even slightly. Lucille knew more than anyone what a reputation meant, good or bad. All she ever heard anymore was the importance of keeping herself in the good opinion of those around her. But every time she was around Monty, she felt like she wanted to forget everything proper she’d ever learned and kiss him or embrace him or something. She wasn’t sure what it was that she felt anymore. All Lucille knew anymore was that every time, she felt like she was wearing her love and devotion to him on her face and everyone could see it whenever they were around each other.

Everyone, Lucille thought to herself as she opened her eyes, except Monty. He was looking down at her in confusion and hurt, and it only made her ache. Hurt, because of her. Because she’d left him standing there with his hand open when it had only been holding hers seconds before.

“Don’t be mad,” she whispered hoarsely. “Or embarrassed, please. I’m not...I’m sorry, I just don’t know what’s come over me. One second I’m fine and the next I feel as if I’m about to fall apart.” It was the most she dared to say. She already feared losing control of her tongue and telling him all that she held in her heart for him. All the love and care and affection that she had always had for him, growing steadily even when she had thought she’d managed to rid herself of everything that had once plagued her. Because that’s what it felt like now. A weight upon her shoulders that she couldn’t rid herself of.

He was part of her. He always would be, and Lucille didn’t know if that meant she would always carry these feelings for him or if they would fade, but she did know that she wished she had never felt them in the first place.

Was this what it felt like for him, she wondered, watching Katherine for years, always hoping her eyes would linger on him just a second longer? Surely, Lucille had loved Monty the same amount of time he had loved her sister. The thought of him feeling the same things she did for another—worse, for her sister—made her want to retch. As selfish as it was, she only wanted him to feel that devastating, bone-crushing sort of love for her, the same way she felt it only for him and no one else. Not even Fred, as lovely and respectable and wonderful as he was, couldn’t possibly send her heart racing with one single glance her way, or have her cheeks warming at just one indecent thought. She felt guilty and ashamed and she knew she would have been berated if anyone found out.

The truth of the matter was that she had danced hundreds of dances with Fred, but she couldn’t get through a single one with Monty.

“I’m not mad,” Monty reassured her. “I’m just—”

“Don’t be worried,” Lucille interrupted before he could finish his sentence. The last thing she wanted was his pity. “I’m just—”

“Lucille?”

Lucille turned and found Fred standing in the doorway, his face the perfect picture of gentlemanly concern. “Fred,” she breathed.

“Is everything alright?”

She looked to Monty, searching his face for any hardness, any tension that might have hinted at his disappointment in Fred coming to intrude on their conversation. When she found none, she ignored the tightening in her chest and turned back to Fred.

“Everything is fine. I’m just feeling a bit ill. I think I might turn in for the night.”

She didn’t look back at Monty as she walked away, her arm secured in Fred’s.

what would he do if he found us out? (infidelity au)

Lucille would say she had forgotten what it was like to breathe when she was around Monty, but she knew that had she been honest with herself, she’d admit that she never really knew how to. She’d always been an expert at lying to herself, though.

How long had she spent so attuned to him, his presence, everything about him? Years spent growing up at his side had sharpened her senses around him while everything else dulled in comparison, fading to black and white while he stood out in screaming color. Long summer days spent laying in the grass outside of the Howard estate, Lucille’s eyes constantly searching for Monty no matter what. Listening to him play his music like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. Always seeing him at her sister’s side, Katherine’s hand clutching at his arm as she spoke in rapid tones, feeling her chest cave in with the knowledge that she could never touch him so casually because she knew it would never be as simple for her as it was for Katherine. For Lucille, it would always mean something more, and for Monty, the only one who would hold that right was her sister. But then so many things had changed, and they’d all happened out of order: She’d gotten married to the wrong man while the right one stood aside and let it happen, and only after did they come together in rushed, heated moments that had her burning with shame—not just for what she had done, but for the knowledge that she was going to do it again, and she wasn’t even trying to pretend otherwise.

And now Monty stood in front of her, his eyes searching her face desperately as the words fell from his lips, knowing how dangerous it was to speak of what they had between them. What would he do if he found us out?

Lucille didn’t know why he was doing this now. Why he was speaking so freely, why he was toeing a line far too risky to approach, why he was pressing himself closer to her, crowding her personal space like he had earned the right to do so. But hadn’t she given him the right when she’d kissed him the first time—or had he kissed her? There had been so many since that first time that Lucille forgot where they had even begun, only that they simply had, and she no longer knew if it was possible for them to end.

They were forever intertwined, not just because of the secrets they carried together, but because something had been discovered in between nights spent between the other’s sheets, their hands finding solace in each other’s bodies, holding on with vicelike grips so they wouldn’t slip away. She couldn’t deny it. His mind, to her, resembled an altar that she had fallen to her knees at repeatedly in worship, and she had never been able to recover from the way she felt when he treated her like she was worth the same reverence.

“What would he do?” Lucille repeated, her voice tense as she took a step away from Monty. “My husband, you mean?”

Her tone was harsh, sparing no niceties for Monty. Not when he was like this, showing her that streak of something she couldn’t quite call vicious, but a deliberate sort of hurt.

She didn’t feel guilty when she saw his face fall at the term. He’d brought Fred up, and she wouldn’t hide behind vague hims.

“I imagine he would be positively livid. As he should be. If you had been married and discovered that your wife was having an affair, wouldn’t you despise them?”

It got no easier to discuss their infidelity, but Lucille tried to sound as flippant as possible. She didn’t know how to do any of this. Every single night, she thought about what her family would think of her if they found out. The way she would make her father avoid her eyes to hide his disappointment, the way Katherine would resent her as if she still held the right to feel anything where Monty was concerned.

Because underneath all the shame, underneath all the guilt, Lucille still couldn’t help but feel like this was supposed to happen. She was often torn between hating Monty for not being fast enough, not brave enough, not bold enough, and hating herself for the same thing. Even still, it was Monty. If she couldn’t have him as her husband because they had run out of time, Lucille was loath to admit that she still felt owed something, so they stole all the time they could. She had never wanted to consider herself a selfish person, but the truth was staring her in the face in the form of dark hair and brown eyes and Lucille knew that no matter how cold she acted towards Monty, no matter how many times Fred kissed her cheek and told her he loved her...she knew she wouldn’t stop.

“No one could ever hate you,” Monty said quietly, his face softening for just a moment before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her neck. Lucille inhaled sharply, her eyes fluttering closed and her hands clenching at her sides, gathering the fabric of her dress in tight fists.

“I doubt that,” she replied, but her voice was shaking, and at this point Monty must know she was only talking to argue, to avoid the inevitable.

“No one,” he started again, his lips drifting farther down her neck, across the expanse of her chest, towards the neckline of her gown, “could ever hate you.”

And with that, he brought his head back up and caught her lips in a hard, bruising kiss that should have wiped every thought out of her mind except the way Monty’s hands were already undoing the laces of her gown, the anticipation of what part of her body he would touch next, the knowledge that soon, she would be so caught up in bliss that no words would fall from her lips except a repetition of his name over and over and over again.

No, Lucille said to herself, unable to stop the thoughts from coming even as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to neck, Fred would hate me. Katherine would hate me.

But Monty never would, and in the end, that was all that mattered.

AARON &. WILLOW

everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

The words came in a quiet whisper, underneath a blanket wrapped tightly around a body that was burrowed deep into the mattress, the clock on the nightstand blinking 1:34am in neon red numbers that made Aaron’s eyes burn if he looked at them too long.

Beside him, Willow lay there, her colorful hair splayed across the pillow like different strips of paint splattered across the sheets. He liked the look of her laying there, adding color to the stark whiteness of everything in his room. He thought it was rather appropriate for the way she had come into his life and added something that he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing. Like everything before her had been black and white and he hadn’t even realized it until she’d shown up and suddenly, his life was bursting with colors he hadn’t yet discovered.

Now, Aaron reached out with tentative fingers and brushed some of Willow’s hair away from her face, his eyebrows stitching together as he regarded her curiously, struggling to make out her expression in the dark. He knew her like the back of his hand, but there were some moments—moments like these—where she was as unknowable as she was afraid of becoming. He struggled to hold on to her in those moments, but so far, he hadn’t slipped up. He hoped he never would.

“What do you mean?” he asked. He wondered if it was the sleepiness, or if it was simply the sight of her walls breaking down, letting him in to see parts of her insecurities that she refused to show anybody, refused to acknowledge for her own sake.

“People talk about you,” she continued. Aaron still couldn’t see her face, and maybe that was another reason she was being so honest with him right now. “They talk about you like they know you.”

It came with the territory. It had been an adjustment, slowly gaining recognition in the world where he was once a blip on the radar of so few. It was a downside to doing what he loved, but he’d always known that gaining the fanbase he needed to share his music would also result in those same people prying into his life like they thought they owned it. He didn’t think about it very often, but apparently Willow did because while he couldn’t see her face, he could hear her voice, and it didn’t sound very steady.

“And they wonder what it would be like to be with me?” he asked, still trying to understand what it was that she was getting at.

“No,” Willow responded, finally sitting up. “They wonder what it would be like to love you.”

Repeating the words didn’t help clarify it for him any better. For him, those who wanted to speculate were free to do so. He was private enough and only mildly successful that no one cared that much.

But it was the insinuation in the words that didn’t sit well with him.

“And what is that like?” Aaron asked finally, after several beats of silence that Willow chose not to fill with further meaning to her words. “Loving me?”

Even in the dark, he felt the way Willow tensed. Felt it in the subtle shift of the bedsheets, saw it in the blurred edge of her shoulders as they drew in on themselves, heard it in the abrupt way she stopped breathing so audibly.

For a second, Aaron wondered if he’d crossed a line. Worried that he couldn’t jump back to where they were five minutes ago with no damage.

Willow didn’t answer him, but she didn’t turn away from, either. She was still stiff, stewing in the words that neither of them had the courage to say out loud just yet—Willow because she was afraid, Aaron because he knew that. She chose to pick up the blanket and wrap it back around herself, leaving him enough to cover himself with it, too, and laid her head back down on the pillow.

She had settled herself back down just a bit closer to Aaron than she had been before. He took comfort in it.

Even while Willow’s breath evened out fairly soon, Aaron stayed awake, unable to fall asleep. Thoughts of broken promises and whispered confessions filled his mind and invaded his thoughts, unable to get rid of them. Next to him, he hoped Willow was dreaming peacefully. He hoped that one day they would be able to make their own confessions without feeling the weight of it on their shoulders the entire time. He had grown tired of being an accessory to those who only wanted to use him long ago, but not once had he thought those were Willow's motivations. Yet he still couldn't help but feel confused about what she actually felt.

Willow said everybody wondered what it would be like to love him, but all Aaron could think about was what it would be like to be loved.

did i shatter you?

Was that what it had been?

Aaron looked at Willow standing there, her eyes red like she could barely keep them open, and he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to reach out and hold her. It was an effort to keep his hands at his sides.

Had she shattered him? Had his own love for her somehow broken him when he’d spent all this time thinking it was building him up? Pages of his notebook were littered with lyrics dedicated to her, the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly, the whole and the damaged, every single part of her that he had learned and memorized. What if it wasn’t as romantic and poetic as he had once thought?

But if she had shattered him, then surely he must have broken her, as well. Surely he had an even bigger role in this than she did—hadn’t it been him, after all, that had told her how perfect they were together?

Hadn’t it been him, after all, who had told her that they could no longer be together?

Or was it all just him? Aaron knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t find it in himself to blame Willow for any of it. It was wrong to believe that she was perfect, especially when he knew that she wasn’t, he had seen all of her imperfections firsthand and dealt with them more intimately than anyone besides her therapist probably had. It was that which had made him love her in the first place. Was that where it all went wrong? Had he gone too quickly, had he scared her more than he had helped her? Had he even helped her at all, or had he only deluded himself into thinking he had?

Aaron thought that if he could just show Willow how much she meant to him, then she would see something in herself worth it all. He didn’t know how, but maybe he could show her through his own love for her.

Or maybe he was just doing exactly what Willow always accused him of, and was trying to picture her as the perfect girl. Not the one to fix all of his problems, but the one to feed into all of them. Because Aaron had never thrived on the healthy aspects of the few relationships he’d had. He’d always thrived on believing them to be above him, always higher than him, and marveling at how his old girlfriends had chosen to be with him. And then he’d never bothered to reach the standard he’d imagined in his head. With Willow, it wasn’t the same. He’d felt like they were on equal footing, even ground.

He’d felt, for once, like he belonged in this relationship. Because he didn’t want to feel awed by his unworthiness of her—he wanted to work hard enough until he was worthy of her. He’d never felt that before.

Distantly, Aaron despised the way he couldn’t simply walk away. Why couldn’t he just accept that their relationship had come to a close, and it was now time to move on? Why did he have to stand here and watch Willow, knowing how desperately he wanted to be with her again, knowing that he’d do just about anything to prove to her that he still loved her?

Why couldn’t he simply tell himself that every relationship taught a new lesson, and this one had taught him that he couldn’t fix everything, and that he couldn’t expect his own damage to be mended through someone else? Why couldn’t he learn that things happened for a reason and that he needed to stop looking at love as the end all be all for meaning in life? Why couldn’t he learn that love wasn’t the only thing to look for and that he could just as easily have his breath taken away by a stunning sunset, a song that drove him to tears, a long ride through the country that never seemed to end?

Except he had learned all of those lessons. He knew them, had become familiar with the impact they’d had on his life. He wanted to put those lessons to good use and try again with Willow, but he knew that she would never take him back.

“No,” Aaron said. “God, no, Willow. You didn’t shatter me. You made me.”

CAMILLE &. BLAKE

after giving you the best i had, tell me what to give after that?

“You call that your best?” Camille asked, her voice biting savagely through each word, ripping them off her tongue. “Don’t insult me like that. You might not think so, but I deserve better than that bullshit excuse. Your best was going to a lawyer to discuss divorce?” She scoffed in disgust. “That’s pathetic.”

Pain and hurt drove her words but she could feel the truth of them underneath her skin. What happened to the man who had shown up at her best friend’s apartment building and wouldn’t leave until she’d come downstairs despite the rain, telling her that he loved her and kissing her hard enough to leave her shaking? What had happened to the man who promised to accept her for who she was and not hold her own self against her? Where had the lines blurred between who she was and who he thought she was, who he wanted her to be?

“You went to a lawyer for what?” Camille said, her eyebrows raised. “Because the doctor told us that I wasn’t pregnant? Because I said I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to be?”

And there it was, out in the open. The thing that had been hanging over their heads for weeks, months. Camille had tried to accept the possibility of a child when she'd first thought she was pregnant, if only because Blake’s face had lit up when she told him she was late after throwing up in the bathroom three mornings in a row. But then the doctor had told them it was a false alarm and Camille thought that would be it. It was only later, weeks later, that Blake said something about trying and she could feel herself tensing up.

Camille knew that when she said she loved Blake, there would be difficulties. She just didn’t know that it would mean finding emails on his computer exchanged between him and a divorce lawyer concerning her.

“I’ll be honest, I’m disappointed. I mean, if you were going to leave, I would have expected you to actually have the guts to say it to my face instead of going all Katie fucking Holmes on me. You’re a fucking coward.”

They’d been here before—the fighting and the yelling and the refusal to listen to any sort of reason or excuse. Camille remembered all too well what it had felt like to argue with Blake every single night. Some nights it had been her that started the fight, other nights it had been. There had been nights where they were both itching to rip each other’s throats out and they’d fed into those habits for so long. She remembered what it was like to be on opposite sides of their apartment, some nights ending with Camille grabbing her keys on her way out because she couldn’t stand it.

Being back in that place made her want to tear her hair out.

“Am I not enough for you?” she asked, hating herself for how her voice cracked. “Is that it?”

Blake’s eyes were wide as she began to shake his head, already shaking his head and reaching out to take her waist into the circle of his arms, but Camille took a sharp step backwards.

“Don’t touch me,” she demanded. “Answer me. Am I not enough for you? Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t think you can be with me anymore if we don’t have kids?”

Every single word hurt her to say but Camille couldn’t live the rest of her life not knowing.

And Blake couldn’t answer her.

She knew they’d both crossed lines in the past. She’d said hurtful things in the beginning, mean, spiteful things about Blake and his family that showed him just how little she cared about his parents, just how little she respected them and how disappointed she was in him that he allowed himself to be pushed around like his life didn’t matter. And he’d been mean and spiteful, too. She’d heard him call her a bitch a handful of times, telling her that she was spoiled and rude and cold, that she was selfish and resentful —she’d never denied a single one of them, but something about the way it all sounded rolling off of Blake’s tongue, like he thought he was better than her, only made her hate him more.

This was different.

This felt like something was breaking.

“You know what?” Camille started, unable to stand the silence. She couldn’t look at him anymore, not when he couldn’t give her an answer, even if it was a no. She might be able to get over it, then, but not like this. “Don’t waste your time trying to figure out what way you can spin your words to get me to give in. I’m not naïve, and I’m not your project. I’m a person.”

Somehow, she felt like she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince Blake.

Camille was already halfway across the living room, her hand grabbing her purse off the table where she’d dropped it on her way back home, just like she always did. “I’ll be back tomorrow when you’re at work to get my things.”

It was only after she’d locked the door behind her and gone to the elevator that she allowed the tears to fall.

sorry for not making you my centerfold (romeo & juliet au)

Camille had never wanted to be someone’s centerfold.

What she had wanted, wanted above everything else, was to be respected. To be recognized as her own person and respected, if not liked or admired, for who she was.

The opinion of other people had never been such a large concern for her. She never bothered thinking about what people thought about the way she dressed or the way she spoke, the people she dated or the school she went to. She liked her clothes and she spoke her mind, she dated who she liked and Columbia was an amazing school that should have felt honored to have taught her for four years.

But Blake Keller was different. She’d felt it once before, the knowledge that someone had come into her life and they were about to change it forever. But Nathaniel was gone, somewhere in Europe in a school that would mold him into the perfect man for someone that wasn’t her.

She’d once thought it would be her at his side forever, and then her parents had ruined everything.

And that had been it, she’d assumed. A few good years of true happiness, a high school romance that taught her more about herself than anything else ever could have. Camille refused to forgive her parents, not because she still had any feelings leftover from five years ago, but because she knew it hadn’t been for her own good. Nothing they ever did had ever been for her own good. Everything was about making sure she never made a single misstep, so she had decided to never stop making them. Some people called it pettiness, Camille called it bitterness—she’d never shied away from the word. She didn’t particularly like it, but she wasn’t arrogant enough to think it didn’t apply to her.

It wasn’t pettiness because she wasn’t holding a grudge. It was who her parents were. It wasn’t because they thought she was too immature, because she knew they would never stop dictating who she was with until she was married.

And if they knew she was with Blake Keller, the only son of the family they despised the most, they would only assume the worst. That she had gotten involved with him to spit in their faces—tempting, but Camille simply didn’t care about them enough to only think about how to make them shake their heads in disappointment. She preferred to live her life by her own rules and revel in the fact that her rules clashed horrifically with her parents’. The truth of the matter was that she had seen Blake for the first time in probably seven years and she hadn’t even realized who he was. She’d thought he was a stranger, a new face from somewhere outside of New York.

Hearing his name had been a jolt. Discovering that she wanted him had been jarring. Finding out that he wanted her, too—Blake Keller, who always followed the rules and never stepped out of line—had been satisfying.

She’d expected a short, secret affair. She’d expected to get off on the secrecy of it all, to be excited at the idea of being brought to his family’s home and allowing herself to be pushed against the wall and kissed numb.  Not to run her fingers through his hair while they laid together in bed, her legs tangled with his as he told her all about his childhood, his parents, the lack of life that he had outside of work. In turn, she shared her own stories about how she used to love her mother more than anything because she wanted to be just like her. She told him about ballet lessons from childhood and designs that she wanted to make real, regrets she’d had and memories she would never take back for all the money in the world.

She hadn’t expected feelings. She hadn’t expected the realization that hit her harder than anything ever had—where there had once been the black and white of rigid morality, Blake had brought with him not a gray area, but screaming colors.

But he was who he was, and that was his father’s son. Camille had to have known that she would never be his first priority. She didn’t know if she would even make the top five. She gave him a small, wry smile, trying not to feel betrayed.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, unable to meet his eye as she lied through her teeth. “I never made you mine, either.”

[julictcapulet]

💘 + for all three of our ships!!!!!!

literally MY CHILDREN i love them :’)

AARON &. WILLOW

where they first met and how: Willow was hired as the band’s photographer so she and Aaron met at the photoshoot, and they hit it off right away

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved: Sooo long, like it was over a year before feelings were actually confronted. It was a lot of both of them having feelings they ignored because they assumed they’d just go away and then realizing they weren’t going away so they had to hide them because they both thought the other didn’t reciprocate, and then over a year later Aaron got impatient.

who fell for who first ( if applicable ): Aaron for sure.

where their first date was and what it was like: I always imagined their first proper date to be at a bar, probably the same one they’ve been going to since they met, and at first it was awkward because they were both very aware that this was a ~date~ but after like ten minutes, things smoothed out.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ): I think after they get their shit sorted out, it was kinda just like....a thing?

who proposes first: Aaron :)

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away: Well, everybody in their friend group already knows they have feelings for each other and they find it insufferable, but after they actually begin dating, I think they’d let it go like two or three weeks without saying anything just so they can have their time, you know?

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ): Aaron proposes in his apartment because they’re both private people

if they adopt any pets together: Omg please, I want them to have so many pets

who’s more dominant: Willow. Aaron’s a very mild guy, and Willow is not.

where their first kiss was and what it was like: A lil drunk, way before things got serious between them, and even though they both enjoyed it, it left things very complicated for a bit. That didn’t stop them from kissing a few more times before they even thought of getting together.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ): I don’t know actually? Feel free to give me your ideas qheifujwjkq

how into pda they are: They’re into PDA when it’s not, like......PDA, you know? Like, they’ll hold hands and Willow will lean her head on his shoulder in front of the group and stuff, like they’re fine with being touchy because they are, but when it comes to kissing and more in public, they’ll do it in isolated areas and still get a thrill from knowing people can see them.

who holds the umbrella when it rains: Aaron because he’s taller

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable ): Either their favorite bar or Aaron’s loft

who’s more protective: Aaron. He’s seen Willow get hurt too many times to not be protective

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ ): Over a year before they had sex, but they’d probably slept in the same bed a few times at that point.

if they argue about anything: Commitment, lmao. Also, what movie they watch.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ): Willow. We love a top

who steals whose clothes and how often: Willow steals all of Aaron’s shirts

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ): Facing each other because they’re sickeningly in love

what their favourite nonsexual activity is: You know what? I see them playing board games, okay.

how long they stay mad at each other: Probably like a few hours lol. Until shit really hits the fan but we won’t talk about that.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are: Aaron drinks his coffee black and his tea with extra sugar but idk about Willow

if they ever have any children together: I can see it and it makes me emo :’)

if they have any special pet names for each other: I’m not going over this question again okay

if they ever split up and / or get back together: Lmao yes

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? ): Messy with not a lot of decor, mostly some of Aaron’s favorite photographs of Willow’s that she’s taken that he hangs around the loft (like aEsThEtIc ones yk) and pics of them. Some fake plants probably

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like: Cute as hell, probably with their whole friend group celebrating together

what their names are in each other’s phones: Their names with emojis next to them <3

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ): Movie nights!!

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first: Aaron falls asleep and wakes up first.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon: Aaron’s the big spoon, Willow’s the little spoon

who hogs the bathroom: Willow

who kills the spiders / takes them outside: Aaron

CAMILLE &. BLAKE

where they first met and how: They grew up in the same sort of circle since childhood because of their parents, and they were both aware of each other’s existence especially in high school, but because Blake was older and Camille had a reputation that he didn’t associate with, they never actually met until their parents told them about the wedding.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved: There was no real ‘flirting’ phase, there was a lot of arguing, a lot of sex, and then somehow they fell in love.

who fell for who first ( if applicable ): I really really think Blake fell first, if only because Camille was still so understandably upset about the wedding and how Blake handled it? She never even thought about whether or not she had feelings for him until she heard him say ‘I love you’.

where their first date was and what it was like: An arranged public outing at some fancy restaurant that their parents arranged. It was really tense because Camille wouldn’t cooperate and at the end, she wouldn’t even let him put his arm around her for any cameras.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ): Their parents did it for them lol

who proposes first: Do I really need to answer this question? But the second time, it’s after their second huge fight, about the lawyer, and they decide to have a second wedding together.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away: Lmao cute

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ): It’s not a thing, it’s more like their parents just put an announcement on the front page of the paper and that’s how everyone knew. The second time, like the actual proposal, was just between the two of them after Camille came home and it was more of a discussion, not a proposal.

if they adopt any pets together: I don’t see it, just because Camille is a control freak and she can’t handle the responsibility.

who’s more dominant: They both have their moments.

where their first kiss was and what it was like: Their first kiss was a picture for their engagement announcement, but their first like, actual kiss was when Camille came to his office to get him to call of the wedding and they started arguing.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ): They probably got so many matching couples gifts from their first wedding because it was obscenely big and their parents probably invited like 400 people, but I doubt they kept any of it.

how into pda they are: Very :)

who holds the umbrella when it rains: Blake because height difference

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable ): A really nice restaurant probably.

who’s more protective: Both of them

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ ): They first had sex when Camille went to ask him to call off the wedding and he said no, and I think when they first moved in together, they didn’t really sleep in the same bed for a bit. One of them was probably always going to a different room to sleep without saying anything about it, and then one time they had sex and neither of them got up so it just became a thing.

if they argue about anything: Everything.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ): Blake leaves a lot of marks on Camille, usually where no one can see, like bruises on her hips or her neck that she covers up, and Camille leaves scratches on his back

who steals whose clothes and how often: Camille would steal any of his sweatshirts.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ): Spooning

what their favourite nonsexual activity is: They really just like spending time together when things sort of calm down between them. They’ll sit and talk with each other, or they’ll be doing their own thing but like, together, you know?

how long they stay mad at each other: A while

what their usual coffee / tea orders are: Camille’s is an iced caramel latte no matter the season or the weather because she’s a typical New Yorker

if they ever have any children together: Max, two kids. God help Camille if her first kid isn’t a girl.

if they have any special pet names for each other: I’m not answering this

if they ever split up and / or get back together: Yeah like three times

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? ): Clean because Camille is a neat freak and a control freak and she used her designer’s eye to make sure they live in a very nice home

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like: It was probably terrible. They most likely spent it with their families together after their first wedding and they both had an awful time

what their names are in each other’s phones: If Cami’s name isn’t My Wife with an engagement ring emoji next to it in Blake’s phone, I’m suing. In her phone, it’s his name with the 💝 emoji

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ): I think after they become a very stable couple, they both want to actually have dates together so they decide to go to new places every so often. Also, Camille would try to teach Blake how to cook.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first: Camille falls asleep first, Blake wakes up first.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon: Blake is the big spoon

who hogs the bathroom: Camille, but it’s a big bathroom with a his and hers side so they’re fine, she’s just in there longer.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside: Blake.

MONTY &. LUCILLE

where they first met and how: As children :’) Lucille was immediately infatuated with Monty

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved: Was there really a flirting phase, though? Was it not more of Lucille being in love with him and him being in love with her sister and then after they met again in Paris, she was literally engaged so it was just a lot of tension?

who fell for who first ( if applicable ): Lucille

where their first date was and what it was like: A picnic, fight me

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ): Monty probably makes a scene in front of Lucille but like, no one else is around, it’s just them

who proposes first: Monty

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away: They probably don’t tell anybody back home until they get home

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ): Probably on another picnic, FIGHT ME

if they adopt any pets together: Maybe a cat. Lucille is a cat person

who’s more dominant: Monty. Lucille is not dominant in the slightest.

where their first kiss was and what it was like: Monty probably just snapped and kissed Lucille and she didn’t expect it and didn’t know what to do

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ): Hand towels as a wedding present.

how into pda they are: Lucille gets a thrill out of it because it makes her feel ~*~scandalous~*~

who holds the umbrella when it rains: Monty because he’s a gentleman

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable ): A really nice field or courtyard

who’s more protective: Monty

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ ): You know, I have a feeling that before they got married Lucille probably let Monty sleep in her bed, but they didn’t have sex until after

if they argue about anything: They debate over literature constantly, but also, feelings :) If you want some angst when they finally get together, think about Lucille having doubts about Monty and Katherine and thinking she’s a consolation prize and them arguing about it

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ): Lucille likes when Monty leaves marks, but she’d also leave lipstick marks on him

who steals whose clothes and how often: She’d take some of his clothes.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ): Both

what their favourite nonsexual activity is: Going to see plays and operas together

how long they stay mad at each other: Lucille can hold a grudge for a while

what their usual coffee / tea orders are: Milk and sugar

if they ever have any children together: Yes :’)

if they have any special pet names for each other: Enough

if they ever split up and / or get back together: No, it just takes them a long long long time to get together, but once they do, they’re solid

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? ): It’s a big space but it’s still a home. It looks lived in and it doesn’t feel like a cold estate.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like: Probably much like it was when they were spending the holidays together as children. Just lots of family around them.

what their names are in each other’s phones: If they had phones, Lucille would just have his name as Monty in hers because she wouldn’t like emojis in contact names. She would use them excessively when texting, though.

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ): p i c n i c s

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first: Lucille falls asleep first, Monty wakes up first

who’s the big spoon / little spoon: Lucille is the little spoon.

who hogs the bathroom: Lucille

who kills the spiders / takes them outside: Monty, what a man

[julictcapulet]

NSFW for our ships bc give me sin or give me death ✌🏻

ajwjfjksk let me LIVE !!! the sin is under the cut <3

Aaron &. Willow

If they have a set setup (more dominant/more submissive) or if they are fairly versatile: Fairly versatile. When Willow is the one to really get into it and start to take a bit more control, Aaron gets ridiculously turned on, but it’s not like a regular, negotiated thing for them or anything.

Who gives the best oral sex: Aaron :) Willow is also very good at it, but Aaron has an oral fixation so I’m gonna say him

Each member’s secret fetish/kink: I think for both of them, it’s sex in a public place. And it’s definitely obvious.

Favourite position: We love a good hookup against a wall, don’t we? Or when Willow is on top.

Sexy nicknames: I don’t think they have any? I also kind of gag at “““sexy””” nicknames though so maybe that’s just a me problem idk man.

Something they tried that they will never do again: Probably a threesome, honestly? They most likely tried one out because, in theory, they thought it’d be pretty awesome, but Aaron and Willow are just so attuned to each other that a third party kind of throws them off their rhythm. (No, I did not just think about John Mulaney when I wrote that, what do you mean)

Who initiates most often: Willow, the hottest top ever.

Who is really noisy and can’t help it: Willow lol, Aaron is so quiet every second of his life.

Favourite toy to use: I’m pretty sure we’ve spoken about this but I don’t really see them being that into using sex toys? Like okay, they’ll bring in a vibrator or a pair of handcuffs once in a while, but that’s like the extent of it.

Who cums the fastest: They’re probably that cheesy ass couple that cums together tbh. And if they don’t, it would be Aaron and he’d finish Willow off himself.

Camille &. Blake

If they have a set setup (more dominant/more submissive) or if they are fairly versatile: Yep, Blake is 98% always the dominant one and that’s how they prefer it. If Camille isn’t either being handled roughly or restrained in some sort of way, she just won’t enjoy it as much

Who gives the best oral sex: Are they tied? I’d say they’re tied. They’re both super into actually giving oral sex, so that’s something.

Each member’s secret fetish/kink: It’s not even a secret that Camille’s favorite is choking, so I’ll say any kind of dirty talk is also a big thing for her, whether it’s Blake talking to her or him making her say what she wants him to do. For Blake, I think he gets off on the idea of being in control and acting on it, and actually seeing that she responds positively to it

Favourite position: Any kind? With a certain affinity for doggy style or missionary, perhaps?

Sexy nicknames: None stop asking me this question, their names are fine

Something they tried that they will never do again: Can I say anal? We’ve never spoken about that ever, but like, no.

Who initiates most often: Camille. I think Blake initiates sex more often than Camille would expect, but she’s still the one to do it more often just because she’s a very sexual person.

Who is really noisy and can’t help it: Camille. Gag her.

Favourite toy to use: Camille’s is anything that can restrain her wrists (she doesn’t like her legs to be restrained) or a blindfold.

Who cums the fastest: If Blake is just rough enough with Camille, it’s her.

Lucille &. Monty

If they have a set setup (more dominant/more submissive) or if they are fairly versatile: I don’t think so, I’d say they’re fairly versatile. It all depends on the Mood

Who gives the best oral sex: Monty, fight me on this.

Each member’s secret fetish/kink: Lucille is a big big fan of having her hair pulled on, and I have no idea for Monty please feel free to add

Favourite position: Either missionary or against a wall

Sexy nicknames: I swear to god if I have to see this question one more time

Something they tried that they will never do again: Hmm, it was probably a certain position that just wasn’t comfortable for either of them and they were like no never again

Who initiates most often: I think they both do

Who is really noisy and can’t help it: Monty

Favourite toy to use: Sex toys might have existed in the 1800s but I don’t think they were all that great, so I’m gonna say none.

Who cums the fastest: Monty probably. Lucille’s got a complicated relationship with sex in general because of how it was treated, especially for women, at the time, so she has a lot of mental blocks that don’t often work in her favor.

[julictcapulet]

Girlhood was a war, and you fought. No one talks about it anymore, but you came into the world screaming. You kicked your legs and screamed at the top of your lungs. Your mother said, even as she cradled you in her arms, that you were a tough one, a fighter. Childhood was bright and yellow, with ribbons you’d threaded through your braids flying out behind you as you raced through the gardens, your sisters all chasing each other until you landed in a heap in the middle of the grass. Scraped knees and calloused hands, cans of paint knocked over and books littering the floor of your room. You were wild and courageous. You laughed out loud, almost obnoxious in your insistent happiness. It was like you were determined to see sunshine everywhere, and where there was none, you created it out of thin air, out of paintings on a canvas, out of poetry you spewed from your lips, meaningless and more important to you than anyone would ever know. You ice skated across the frozen pond in the middle of winter and danced in the summer, played piano for your father during the spring and pressed fallen leaves to your palms during autumn. Days were long but you still felt like life was short, and you were so eager to live all of it, all at once. Paint smudged across your forehead, knotted hair, flushed cheeks. You refused to be sad, and that was the exact reason why you were so loved. You refused to be anything but bright. You wanted to shine, you wanted to embody rays of sun and crackling fireplaces, shooting stars and burning candles, anything that gave off light. You wanted to be golden, not perfect. Even with your bouts of dramatics, your penchant of theatrics, you could make anyone smile at you in exasperated fondness. Golden.

Girlhood was a war, and you bled. No one talks about it anymore, but you came into adolescence raging. Your two eldest sisters married soon enough, leaving you in a house with one more older sister who stood taller than you, and a younger one who didn’t look to you for guidance the way you’d hoped she would. When you had been younger, all you did was trail after your sisters, hoping to find the ways to imitate them. The lack of reciprocation from your one younger sibling carved a hole in your chest, leaving you to wonder where you had been lacking. With adolescence came the expectation of maturity, and it wasn’t long before your father packed up your paints and your easels and stored them in the attic for a later date. When you asked after them day after day, he promised that you could return to your little paintings when you were accomplished enough as a young lady. No more flower crowns and pretty frocks—now, you twisted your hair into an elegant knot and wore dresses that actually fit your age. You entered society to look for a husband to call your own, but your eyes never strayed from the boy who’d had your heart from the very beginning. You thought the separation would do you good, but all it did was weigh you down. It didn’t help that you now had to shoulder the rest of your family along with the feelings that you kept locked in your untouched heart. Night after night, reaching across pillows for a body that wasn’t there, watching your sister’s husbands sweep them across the floor and kiss them even when it was considered improper. You kissed your younger years goodbye on a ship sailing off to Europe, but you no longer had that flushed excitement to your cheeks. You had dulled. You tried not to think about how it might keep you from finding a husband.

Girlhood was a war, and you lost. No one talks about it anymore, but you came into adulthood resigned, sad, lost. Nineteen wasn’t old enough to consider yourself a woman grown, and yet here you were, expected to behave as such. With the weight of your entire family resting upon your shoulders, you gave up childhood fantasies and pastel daydreams long ago. There’s a man who intends to marry you, even though he hasn’t gone down properly on one knee. You know you’ll say yes when he does, because what other choice do you have? You could love him, you think. It would be almost easy. Handsome, rich, already half in love with you. Ready to indulge you in all your wildest wishes, though you crushed all of those when you suffocated your own childhood with a pillow to muffle your screams, hidden behind your bedroom door, locked so no one would disturb you as you cracked apart. No one heard you anyway. While two sisters have settled into married life, satisfied and loved, there’s another sister who turns heads without even trying, and one more who still has the last few precious years of innocence to cling to. You try not to feel bitter towards any of them, but it’s difficult. If they hadn’t all been so impulsive, you might have had a chance at your own life. You still remember the day you were asked to travel across Europe. You had been so excited, but even underneath all of the bubbling joy, you knew what it was all about. Marriage. Status. Finding a man to secure your place in society. Fred could do that for you. He isn’t the one you want, though. It’s silly to continue trying, and you know it’s all done in vain. You haven’t had control of your own heart since he took it from you long ago, without even knowing it. How long has it been since you went to sleep at night without thinking of him first? Childhood is over, you remind yourself. You don’t think about how you barely had one to begin with.

LISTEN HERE // @rosecolore-d

[julictcapulet]

SHE TURNS AROUND TO GET ONE LAST LOOK AT HIM. SHE LOVES HIM, AS SHE’S ALWAYS LOVED HIM.

                  LUCIANNA HOWARD &. EMMETT MONTGOMERY

[ L I S T E N ] @rosecolore-d

[julictcapulet]

lucille & monty: “i get it never, ever, occurred to you that i can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye.” & “i’ll be loving you for quite some time.” // and for the au: “you know what they say, you can’t help who you fall for and you and i fell like an early spring snow.”

TAYLOR SWIFT; RED PROMPTS. written for my favorite @asystclestcle <3 <3 please enjoy the pain i made sure to put in a lot just for you :) Everything is under the cut because it got way too long rip.

I BET IT NEVER, EVER OCCURRED TO YOU THAT I CAN’T SAY HELLO TO YOU AND RISK ANOTHER GOODBYE.

Lucille’s skin burned from where Monty touched her, the back of his knuckles brushing against her cheek, but his eyes were hard despite the softness of his touch. The gesture was tender, almost loving, but the expression hiding behind his eyes was anything but.

And she couldn’t bear to look at him right then, both from confusion and anger. Confusion, because what could Monty ever possibly know of the heartache that came with saying goodbye to him. Anger, because he so easily brushed aside how she had been on the receiving end of that lack of surety, that anxiety, for years.

“Never occurred to me,” she breathed. She brought her own hand up, moved Monty’s hand to the side so he was no longer touching her, and she caught the way his expression shifted with that small action, that anger blinking away to concern and loss in an instant.

He hadn’t been expecting it, his eyebrows stitched together in a question he wasn’t willing to ask and Lucille didn’t expect him to. She never thought of Monty as a coward, could never possibly think of him so, but for a moment, her chest hurt with the knowledge that he wouldn’t take her words and see what was hidden underneath, always pulling them out from between her teeth.

“What do you think I felt? A childhood full of each other and not once did I ever feel easy saying goodbye to you. How could I, when it was always clear to me how you saw me. A little girl, a tagalong, a nuisance.” Lucille looked to the side, refusing to look Monty in the eye. “Never occurred to me,” she repeated, almost as if she couldn’t believe the words, blinking past the stinging in her eyes. “What you’re feeling now is just a shadow of what I’ve felt for years and feel even now, and it still—”

She shut her mouth, closing her eyes as she stopped herself from saying the words she so desperately longed to throw at him. How she’d waited for a moment like this, and yet she couldn’t go through with it.

It still doesn’t come close. It hurts from the freshness of it all, but not from sincerity. Because of course it wasn’t sincere, how could it be? Monty, fond of her; it was almost enough to send Lucille into a laughing fit. It was petty and spiteful to think so, but she was selfish and she wanted the pain for herself. She’d had time to grow with it, molded her heart around that pain, tended to it like she used to tend after her dolls as a child, like the way Sophia and Elizabeth had tended to her as a little girl. She’d indulged in the childhood heartbreak that existed from knowing you were the farthest from being preferred, settled with the dull ache that would make itself known when Monty would appear with decreasing frequency as they got older and Lucille drew further into herself.

The pain was hers, not his. She’d born it, ignored it, entertained it, cried over it, and now Monty was claiming it for his own. By the time Lucille had realized what any of it meant, he had become so attached to Katherine that nothing could have turned his eye, and Lucille was quite used to coming up last.

“I wanted to...” Lucille choked on a small cry, looking back at Monty and feeling, for perhaps the first time, that he saw her truthfully. How many times had she examined her reflection in the mirror after a day spent with all of the Howard children and Monty indulging in the wonders of childhood, realizing what affection was for the first time and familiarizing herself with the feeling of having that affection go unnoticed or unwanted. She’d studied the way Monty looked at Katherine as they got older, when her own feelings had shifted towards bitterness in adolescence, and wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of those soft looks, the rapt attention that he paid to every word out of her sister’s mouth.

“I don’t think you even know the half of what you feel,” Lucille told him. “What is it? Fondness for me? Longing for Katherine? Longing for anyone in my family as some sort of...consolation?” She felt a tear slip out despite herself. “I’m not interested.”

Fingers traced the edge of her jaw, turning her back up to look him in the eye, and Lucille felt a hollow ache in her chest that reminded her of the way she had once felt so lonely. Not at the fault of Monty, but to feel so seen by someone for the first time knocked her off her own senses. Lucille didn’t know what she wanted, whether it was to reach up and kiss him as she’d imagined so many times before, or to push him away to gain her wits back, or to simply stay as they were where time couldn’t reach them. She distantly remembered once overhearing Katherine say to Elizabeth that Lucille was not an easy person to handle. Elizabeth had replied rather quickly with the observation that Katherine wasn’t much better, but it had stuck with Lucille. 

That short exchange echoed in her head, causing her to take a step back from Monty even as his hand remained steady on the delicate spot between her throat and jaw.

“It’s not anything like—”

“I don’t care,” Lucille said before she could stop herself. “I don’t care what it feels like for you, nor do I want to sit here and listen to you try and convince me that I should.”

“You’d rather I stay silent about it forever, then?”

She jerked away and Monty’s hand immediately shot out to grasp her wrist when he could no longer reach her face. She opened her mouth to answer, the words ready to escape at a moment’s notice—I would have stayed silent if you hadn’t ruined everything. But she couldn’t do it. They’d been doing this long enough and she was tired.

“Let me go,” she whispered, tugging softly. “I have to go back, people will be looking for me.”

“Among them will be Fred, I presume,” Monty retorted acidly, his hand dropping from hers.

“Perhaps.” Lucille stepped back once more, glancing over her shoulder at the closed door that separated the two of them from the outside world. Could it, she wondered, be possible that Monty meant what he said. In his own way, maybe, but there was a part of Lucille, a part of her that she doubted would ever truly be silent, that would always wonder if he meant it only because the pain of losing her sister had driven him to find the closest thing resembling her.

As much as it pained her to turn away from him, Lucille knew she had to. That possibility was too much to consider and she would rather have his indifference than a misplaced affection that carried the unrequited remnants of love for another.

I’LL BE LOVING YOU FOR QUITE SOME TIME (INFIDELITY AU)

Laying in bed beside Monty, she felt the words brush across her skin, the way they wrapped around her so tightly. Her eyes were closed but her lips twitched in satisfaction at the sound of his voice, low and deep.

“How nice for you,” she said softly. She allowed her eyes to drift open slowly, as if there were a bright light shining through, but it was just Monty’s smiling face that greeted her. “I do believe I’ll love you for quite some time myself.” Lucille’s fingers twitched on the pillow propped underneath her cheek. Monty, whose fingers were close enough to touch, saw the movement from the corner of his eye and immediately wrapped her hand in his. Somewhere beyond the open window beside the bed, a bird had landed on a branch of the orange tree outside and was chirping while the leaves cast shadows on the wall through the curtains that were shifting with the breeze. The only other noise was the steady breathing between the two of them.

With Fred away and their estate empty, Lucille could not help herself from telling Monty to come see her. It was impossible to tell him to stay away no matter how dangerous she knew this was, and Fred was always gone for business. During the times the three of them did come into company, the exchanges were pleasant, perfectly polite, and above all, performed with the utmost propriety. Lucille knew Fred didn’t suspect a thing and though she felt a dull pain in her chest every time she looked at him, it was nothing compared to the sharp twinge that twisted in her gut whenever she met Monty’s eye across the room, knowing they couldn’t so much as brush fingertips when they wanted to do so much more.

Shifting underneath the bedsheets, Lucille turned over on her back and tightened her grasp around Monty’s hand. In response, he pushed her blonde hair away from her forehead, smoothing out the tangled mess it had become in her sleep.

“What time do you think it is?” Lucille asked. Though she hated having to ask the question, she knew there was no other matter more important. If she allowed them to spend too long laying in bed like they didn’t have a care in the world, it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the world woke with them and it would be far too complicated for Monty to leave when no one had seen him arriving. Even the thought of someone asking if Monty had possible spent the night when Fred wasn’t anywhere to be seen and their house was otherwise empty made Lucille shudder.

“I imagine it’s early. The rest of the world is quite silent,” Monty replied. He knew her too well. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to use placations to ease her back into bed for a few more hours and Lucille had allowed him to win on several occasions. But not today. She put her free hand on his bare chest but she didn’t push him away. She simply held her hand there, not meeting his eyes, doing all she could to focus on nothing but the sound of the bird chirping on the branch of her orange tree outside.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to allow me to leave this bed so I can get dressed?” Lucille asked, half-joking, half-serious.

Monty laughed. “There is perhaps nothing I would hate more than that.” He grabbed her hand on his chest so he was holding both of them now and leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead.

From her forehead down to her cheek, his lips moved across various spots on her face until he ended up by her jaw, where he knew very well how much she liked him to stay.

“Stay in bed with me a little while longer,” he whispered by her neck. It sent shivers up her spine, feeling how close he was.

“You know I can’t.”

“I’ll be loving you,” Monty began to repeat, “for quite some time.” He detached one of his hands from hers and placed it on the bare skin of her waist. They rarely bothered dressing at night, preferring to sleep wrapped up in each other for warmth instead of the comfort of clothing, but Lucille felt unreasonably chilly now. “Stay in bed with me. I’ll make it worth it.”

Lucille laughed despite herself, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure you would. But you know we can’t. You never know who might happen to visit. A passing neighbor. A business partner. God forbid, my family.” Lucille had plenty of sisters, two healthy parents, and an abundance of nieces and nephews, but the only person she could envision was Katherine. She could just picture the shrewdness of her gaze latching onto the two of them. Lucille didn’t know if Katherine would ever say anything to Fred if she found out, but the last thing she ever wanted to do was push her luck enough that she might discover the answer for herself one day.

The way Monty looked at her told her he knew where her mind had drifted off to. “Promise me we can go away together soon.” Lucille began laughing again, this time at the sheer absurdity of his suggestion, but Monty pushed her back onto the bed when she began sitting up. “Promise me. You can say you’re visiting distant cousins. I’ll disappear once more. No one would suspect a thing.”

Lucille stared up at Monty from her spot amongst the pillows and blankets surrounding her, her eyes softening under the sincerity of his pleas. She put a hand to his cheek as he so often did to her and held it there tenderly until he turned to kiss her palm. “I would love nothing more.The same way I would love nothing more than to spend the morning with you, and the afternoon, and every evening following.”

There was more to say, both of them knew it, but Lucille didn’t continue. There were so many ways she could finish it off, reminding him of her husband that could send a letter any day announcing his intent to return, or the need to make themselves scarce, but there was only one thing that would have satisfied Monty and it wasn’t an answer Lucille was ready to give.

“Would it make you feel any better,” she asked in an uncharacteristic show of genuine emotion, “if I told you I can’t imagine loving anyone the way I’ve loved you?”

Monty’s expression could have broken hearts with the softness of it. “There’s only thing that could make me feel better than even that.”

But neither of them could think to say it aloud.

YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY, YOU CAN’T HELP WHO YOU FALL FOR AND YOU AND I FELL LIKE AN EARLY SPRING SNOW

There was a kind of bitter satisfaction that came with hearing the words. It almost washed out the stinging sensation of heartache that accompanied it.

“I don’t think I’d like to hold the affection of someone who didn’t want to want me,” Lucille said quietly.

On some level, she understood everything Monty was saying. She hadn’t known what it had meant when she’d looked at Monty for the first time and felt that unbelievably heavy weight in her stomach that came with flushed cheeks and unsteady voices, always hanging a few steps back out of fear for being a bother and never seeing anyone else but him when she closed her eyes.

But she wasn’t a child anymore who could hide behind adolescent infatuation that no one could help. On a deeper level, Lucille believed there was something different about the way Monty had chosen Katherine in a way he had never chosen her. From the very first, it was as if they were joined by the hip and it was so simple for the two of them, to choose each other.

Lucille had been the subject of affection for those who claimed they couldn’t help but want her and it had always seemed so shallow. Perhaps that’s why she had entertained Fred the longest. Perhaps that’s why she had allowed her own affection for him to continue to grow, though it seemed it had become impossible for it to develop past a warm familiarity ever since she’d been reunited with Monty. He did not sway her with words of her moving beauty or her dazzling charm. Instead, Fred spoke about how she had interested him, how her hobbies and talents were what drew her to him. He had wanted, he’d said, to pursue her in the hopes of getting to know her better so he might choose her properly.

It reminded her of how Monty had chased after Katherine, desperate to discover everything about her, underneath every layer. She’d wanted that her whole life, to be wanted by choice.

“That’s not what I—”

“I watched you for years,” Lucille interrupted, knowing exactly what Monty was going to say and finding that she didn’t have the stomach to hear it. “I know exactly how you felt about Katherine and you can say it was because of childhood or because of familiarity and proximity and a million other factors that you’ve distanced yourself from now, but I still saw it. I know I’m not...” She looked down to the floor, as if the tiles would tell her the right words. “I know I’m not the one you’d choose, and I don’t want to be the one you pursue because it feels easy.”

Her eyes were stinging fiercely and Lucille wasn’t willing to let Monty see it. “There is no we, there’s no simple answer. Whatever you feel for me, I just...I don’t believe you’ll ever understand that I can’t trust it’s truly genuine. The last thing I’ve ever wanted was to be the person standing in my sister’s place because she didn’t want to be there.”

It was a harsh thing, to remind Monty of Katherine’s feelings in such a way, but she didn’t mean for it to be so. The words were so close to slipping out, the simplest I love you she could have ever said, and still those old feelings of jealousy and anxiety had mixed together to form a lump in her throat, blocking her from getting the words out. The fear was enough to drive him to hate her for rejecting him in a way he could only be too familiar with, but she still hoped it wouldn’t stick.

Selfishly, she stared at him, waiting to see if he would fight her on it: To tell her that there was no real choice because there was no one but her, to tell her he would only ever choose her and it would be with the utmost intention of forever.

She couldn’t bear the silence that followed.