#and benvolio has to walk in one last time on his own

[merrilygreen]

FOUR DAYS LEFT COME ON

THEY WON’T WIN BUT WE CAN AT LEAST EVEN IT OUT A LITTLE BIT

More quotes, submitter's comments, and credits for photos under the cut!

Mercutio and Benvolio

Additional quote I picked out:

Mercutio technically calls Benvolio hot here, just saying

Submitter's comments:

Hamlet and Horatio

Additional quotes I picked out:

let's get this one out of the way

an earlier part of Hamlet's "passion's slave" speech shown above, essentially saying "my soul chose you as its own":

Hamlet persuading Horatio not to kill himself over his, Hamlet's, imminent death:

Submitter's comments:

(^ yep, I got 10 submissions total, the joint most of anyone)

Photos:

Mercutio & Benvolio: The Globe, 2015

Hamlet & Horatio: Hamlet (2009) TV movie by the Royal Shakespeare Company

[hyacinth-sims]

Juliette hoped that her agreement with Tybalt would be the end of their discussion about Romeo. It was a foolish thought, to think that Tybalt wouldn’t stick his nose in her private life under the guise of “protecting” her. 

Tybalt was quite good at poking around in other people's business, and it was starting to wear Juliette thin. She really needed to get him a boyfriend, or some kind of hobby to keep him occupied. 

It’d been silent for most of their walk to school, both Hermia and Juliette unsure of what to say. She hadn’t told Hermia yet about what happened that previous night, and the presence of Tybalt wasn’t making it any easier. He never walked to school with them; he was always arriving early for time in the gym. 

Hermia let out a small cough, Juliette glancing over to her. “Er—“ She began, looking up at Tybalt, “So not that I’m complaining or anything but—why are you walking to school with us?” 

“Am I not allowed to spend time with my younger sisters?” Tybalt answered, raising an eyebrow. Oh, what utter bullshit. Tybalt didn’t like spending time with anyone, he was just excellent at faking it in the presence of their grandfather. The only things he ever enjoyed doing were bossing people around and getting into one-sided fights with Mercutio Monty.

Juliette let out a groan, “He caught me with Romeo last night and now I guess he won’t let me out of his sight for even a moment.” She loved her brother, she really did. After all, he was still her brother who had—decent but somewhat misguided intentions. However, there was not another human being on the planet that got on her nerves more. He felt the need to be in charge of everything, to take matters into his own hands when it was never even asked of him.

“Trying to keep forbidden love apart, Tybs?” Hermia asked teasingly, “How—villainous of you.”

“I am not trying to keep anyone apart, actually,” Tybalt retorted, “Juliette knows that I’ve agreed to keep her secret, albeit with some boundaries in place.” The boy scowled at a few figures standing in the distance, “I just do not trust those—savages he is usually seen around.”

Juliette raised an eyebrow as she looked up at Tybalt, “I thought you didn’t have any problems with Benvolio?” If he did, he had never expressed them outwardly. Benvolio was an advocate for peace, even being friendly with members of the Capp family despite being closely aligned with the Monty’s. 

“I do not have any issues with Benvolio,” Tybalt stated plainly. Oh—of course, this was never about Romeo. He was just looking for another excuse to start shit with Mercutio, as always. His insistence on making an enemy out of that boy was strange to Juliette, although it wasn’t like Juliette cared for him either. He was a little much so to say. 

Hermia snorted, “So you mean Mercutio, you’re basically saying you don’t trust Mercutio—that’s absolutely groundbreaking, brother. Please tell us why that is the case.”

“I would say one of the reasons is that he’s been flirting with my younger sister, who he is far too old for,” Tybalt pointed out, a scowl on his face as he glanced towards his rival at the front of the school. “It’s been obvious that you hang out with him quite a lot, you tend to sometimes have his signature scent of axe body spray and desperation on your clothing,” He added, Juliette trying to hold back her giggling. “Although truthfully, that scent will rub off on anyone who stands too close to him for a mere second.” 

Hermia rolled her eyes with a groan, speeding ahead of her siblings. “Can you stop with your weird homoerotic tangents, please?” She exclaimed, “Honestly, your stupid rivalry has more sexual tension involved than anything between me and Mercutio.” 

“Homoerotic?” Tybalt repeated, “Tangent? Looks like Hermia learned some new words, can we get a round of applause please?” 

“You two are truly two sides of the same coin,” Juliette exclaimed with a heavy sigh as she linked arms with her older brother before letting out a small giggle, “But Hermia is definitely right though.” 

Tybalt scowled as he continued to rant, with Juliette simply shutting it out. She was more focused on being alone with Romeo later that day, something that would surely become less common with the stupid rules Tybalt had put in place.

But at least he was on her side, it definitely made things somewhat easier. 

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tubbo jack niki and wilbur - racing across the sea

requested: yes/no

part 8 of the great adventures series

warning: cursing, anxiety about the sea

ever since the argument you and tubbo had become inseparable, he practically lived with you and your parents at this point, and your community was loving it. everytime one of you would stream, tens of thousands of people would tune into your stream to see what madness was going on and today was no different. the pair of you decided to stream a laugh and the stream ends challenge. safe to say you ended up changing the rules several times, you even made ranboo join the stream so you could have extra lives. not long after the stream ended you, ranboo, and tubbo practically dominated the twitter trending page. today however was tubbos last day at yours and shortly after you ended stream, the pair of you headed out to the train station so you could make sure your best friend made it onto the train safely. after you said your goodbyes, you decided to facetime jack on your way home to discuss vlog ideas, and just to talk to him, as you had been rather busy this past week going over plans with ranboo, tubbo, and all of your parents about the uk trip that was happening pretty soon.

a few days later, it was finally time to go film the vlog. you couldn’t exactly lie, you weren’t exactly looking forward to this, as you were told it had something to do with the sea and boats which oddly enough didn’t mix very well with your fear of the deep sea. you had no idea what’s down there and you didn’t want to find out, but hey at least you’d be with tubbo.

your parents offered to drive you there so you didnt have any additional stress from having to get a train then a taxi, this allowed you to have a pretty quiet journey to meet up with your friends. you sat in the back of the car on facetime with tommy who was the only one who knew about your fear and was rather confused as the why you would agree to do such a thing

“i’ll never understand what goes through your mind, you’ve got this though! you’re going to be completely okay, plus you never know it might help you get over your fear, you did tell me you had been working on getting over it.”

“I suppose you’re right, it can’t be too bad. I mean I love the sea. I just don’t like what’s deep down, you feel me?”

“i understand mate, but you need to remember jack wouldn’t put you in danger. as much as he acts like he would, and even if you do fall off the boat or some how end up in the water, you won’t automatically end up at the bottom of the sea. just try to enjoy yourself, yeah?”

“...yeah”

“call me when you get home you can tell me all about what happened, afterwards we can record a minecraft mod video.”

“of course, boss man.”

“you hang out with tubbo too much, you should hang out with me a lot more.”

the car pulled into the car park and within a minute of the car stopping tubbo was at the window shouting your name.

“right tommy, i should probably go, ill see you later bud!”

you said goodbye to your parents as tubbo opened your car door for you.

“what a gentleman, thank you, tubbo.”

“anything for you, now let’s go. jack began filming the intro and i really want the hat hes wearing.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

he stood with his arms crossed shaking his head, pretending to be offended before walking off with you not far behind him.

you stood with niki and wilbur as tubbo went off filming some of the intro with jack. the three of you stood talking about how you have all been and discussing more plans for your meetup.

“y/n, go control your friend, he’s stealing a hat!”

you ran up behind tubbo and stole the hat from him, putting it on your own head.

“why have you got the hat now?”

“i am now captain!”

“but i wanted to be captain!”

you and tubbo stood arguing back and forth over who was captain, ignoring jack trying to get the pair of you to stop.

“you have 5 seconds to stop arguing or you’re being separated 5...4...3...2...1 right.”

“jack no!”

jack pulled you aside claiming he has something really important to ask you.

“so did you bring something valuable?”

“yeah i did actually, i brought tubbo and the necklace tommy gave me for my birthday last year.”

tubbo overhearing the conversation walked over telling you both that he also brought a valuable item, in fact it was a family heirloom.

“i brought an urn.”

“why would you do that tubbo? what the fuck-“

“you two do realise if either of you lose it had to go in the sea?”

“poor grandma.”

“aye about that you will have to pry that necklace out of my hands in order to throw it in the sea!”

the three of you went up to wilbur and niki where wilbur stole the hat you stole from tubbo, and you were told that you were all about to race to the isle of wight.

it was unfortunately time to board the boat, you sat next to tubbo, so that you felt like you had some sort of control with what was about to happen. the others sat making jokes about what was going on whilst you were trying to get control of your breathing. as you all set sail, you thought you were doing a good job of hiding the fact you were potentially about to have a panic attack as no one seemed to notice, or so you thought. considering the fact tubbo was your best friend, he instantly noticed something was wrong and wrapped an arm around you, and decided that distracting you would be a lot better than making you focus on what was currently happening.

“hey y/n, i have an amazing idea for when ranboos in the uk. a 4 month sleep over.”

“heh?”

before you had time to fully process what was going on, all you could hear was wilbur now claiming to be captain then going on to tell you why portsmouth is called portsmouth. you couldnt help but laugh at the random things he was coming up with since he put the captains hat on.

“that is a cinema..i’ve been in this industry for a while now, isn’t that right?”

it was silent for a while until niki tried to steal the captains hat, but was unfortunately unsuccessful .

“maybe next time niki.”

“thank you for believing in me, y/n.”

you pointed out a castle which ended up with wilbur talking about how the planned executions there .

“are they dead?”

“...tubbo of course they’re dead. what kind of question was that?”

the other boat began getting closer to the boat you were all currently in, indicating that it was almost time for you all to split up into two groups.

“my boat is going much faster.”

“that is a sign of pollution.”

“wow jack you’re polluting the world, i hope you’re happy!”

the ride was pretty chill until jack asked what he had lost in the past.

“past relationships.”

“the love or host.”

“laugh you lose streams.”

“the waterslide races from when we went to the water park.”

you and tubbo continued listening things that jack had lost.

“okay. so i’ve lost a few things.”

jack looked towards the other boat.

“however, you two are about to lose each other.”

“excuse you?”

“no, y/n is mine!”

eventually wilbur had enough and picked tubbo up and took him to the other boat with him.

“TUBBO!”

“Y/N!”

you and niki sat laughing as jack and wilbur bickered about who was going to win the boat race. whilst jack was distracted, you felt niki tap your arm and told you to look over to the other boat where tubbo was reaching his arm out to you so you could quickly swap boats.

you quickly got into the boat and sat next to your best friend, tubbo knew you were still slightly nervous, so made it so you would be sat in between him and wilbur so you would feel a lot more comfortable. a few minutes later, your boat began to set off and all you could hear was a mixture of tubbos laughter and jacks yelling getting quieter the further you went.

“AY THEY CANT START WITHOUT US!. AND THEY GOT Y/N, WHEN DID THEY GET THEM?!”

you turned to face wilbur who pointed towards a building before announcing that it definitely belonged to the the three of you, and was renaming it reddit gold.

“reddit..reddit gold, are you serious?” you said through your laughter, the three of you sat together taking turns narrating what was happening .

“go on, y/n.”

“if this capsizes, were all drowning.”

“cheerful as awful.”

“do you think sharks are beneath us?”

“i’m not even answering that question.”

you looked over your shoulder to see that niki and jack were catching up to you all.

“i hope they don’t overtake us, otherwise it’s bye bye tubbo.”

“and grandma.”

“excuse you, tubbo?”

“he’s claiming that he brought an urn with him and if we lose our valuable item gets chucked into the sea.”

a little while later jacks boat was next to yours and you and wilbur started to shout how it was like romeo and juliet.

“y/n, you studied this at gcse a while back, yell some quotes.”

“tubbo i didn’t listen to the teachers.”

“do it!”

“no!”

wilbur continued to talk to the others whilst you and tubbo sat bickering about William Shakespeare .

“tubbo my favourite character was benvolio and he fucked off halfway through.”

“what do you mean he fucked off?”

“he literally disappeared.”

wilbur was genuinely questioning what he was listening to he slowly turned around and tried to catch your attention; however you were currently in the middle of a debate about why benvolio disappeared, which was that last thing you expected to be doing on the boat. eventually your debate died down and you looked up to see wilbur shaking his head at you both, clearly confused as to why you spent 5 minutes arguing about romeo and juliet. an idea came to wilburs mind as he started laughing and pointing at the sea.

“drink some seawater, tubbo.”

you looked away as tubbo reached into the water trying to hold as much water as he could before bringing it to his lips and drinking the seawater.

“tubbo did you really just-“

“more tubbo!”

tubbo did the same as before, however this time brought his hands towards your face.

“drink it, y/n!”

“yeah, y/n, you can help desalinate it.”

“how wonderful, i’ll pass though.”

tubbo looked at you pretending to be upset and lifted his hands towards you again, this time you gave in and drank some of the water.

“thanks, tubbo, I can now only taste salt.”

jack noticed what you and tubbo were doing and looked at wilbur confused.

“im making them drink seawater!”

“what’s it like?”

“potassium!”

“salt.. a lot of salt!”

you checked your phone as you kept receiving multiple messages from tommy trying to get your attention, forgetting that you were currently on a boat with the others. you looked up from your phone to see tubbo drinking more seawater.

“AGAIN?”

you had no idea what was going on for jack and niki, but it sounded a lot like they lost hope as jack yelled asking if there was room for him on the boat while tubbo sat flipping him off in response to his question. jack continued to yell at the three of you however none of you could hear what he was yelling, so you kind of sat just nodding your head in agreement to what he was saying. wilbur pointed out that he could see the finishing line and how it looked like you were all going to make it. you looked over to see jack and niki recreating that one scene from titanic tubbo looked at you smiling, trying not to laugh.

“absolutely not one of us, if not both of us, would end up in the sea.”

the boat began to go significantly faster. at the start you were unsure how to feel, however a few minutes into it you began laughing enjoying how fast you were going.

“woahhh we’re turning!”

the boat did a loop before going straight on as fast as it could go.

“y/n, tubbo, we’re going. we’re going.”

“OH MY GOD!”

you ended up passing another boat you and tubbo instantly waved to everyone on the boat a few people waved back .

“they don’t wanna wave.”

“they know their boat is bigger than ours.”

“they could easily ram us and kill us all.”

“hopefully they decide against doing that.”

the boat began weaving resulting in you, tubbo, and wilbur constantly crashing into each other, not that any of you cared you were all having the time of your lives. you pointed at a boat which was cutting off the boat jack and niki were in .

“we’ve got this in the bag boys, victory is ours!”

your boat slowed down so it could dock.

“i think we’ve won!”

“we won”!

“holy shit we won! tubbo doesn’t have to go in the sea now!”

everyone got out of the boat so you could all wait for jack and niki to reach the dock, as the two of them approached you all tubbo began to sing.

“we are the champions my friend!”

“STOP IT!”

“i have to go into the fucking water!”

you pulled niki into a hug.

“jack you cruel man.”

“did you not have fun niki..we had a great time.”

you let go of niki and stood behind tubbo placing your head on his shoulder whilst jack explained to wilbur what was going to happen if they lost.

“oh, I thought we got to decide who was thrown into the water.”

“no no no no no no!”

“well i think considering we won..”

after a small discussion as a team, you all instantly agreed that jack should be thrown into the water, you all stood on the boat as niki argued that he cant throw her into the water. a couple seconds later wilbur walks towards jack handing him the camera before picking him up.

“are you ready?”

“i don’t think the bits that funny will, i don’t think the bits that funny!”

you all screamed and laughed as jack was thrown into the water. jack complained about the temperature of the sea as he climbed back onto the boat only to be pushed off again by you and tubbo.

“that’s revenge for trying to put us on separate boats!”

you spent the rest of the day together just hanging together as a group before you said your goodbyes.

the ride back home was you excitedly explaining what your boat ride was like to your parents, once you got home you ran upstairs to your room then called tommy on discord

“how was it then?”

“tommy it was so cool, honestly i wish you could have come with us.”

“i mean you’re coming with me george and wilbur to a water course next week, you don’t have a choice.”

“oh okay, it’s a good job i’d love to be there then, tom, also what mod are we playing just so i can check i have it ready.”

“rlcraft.”

the two of you spent a good hour talking before getting ready to film a video with charlie and jschlatt for tommys youtube channel.

taglist:

@l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @c1loudee

[luverofralts]

Post Arkhelios

She had put on a positive face for Abe, but internally Ulyssa was extremely conflicted about her feelings for Roman. She knew that he legitimately cared about Abe, but also knew how self absorbed Roman could be. It was the Bellamy way to act like they were above everyone else and Roman had learned a lot from his grandfather. It seemed like Abe was the only person able to cut through the Bellamy brainwashing and get Roman to feel. In the corner of her mind, Ulyssa wondered how Roman would have treated the situation if she had gotten pregnant from their brief affair or if he’d ever been able to seduce her idiot brother. Probably even worse than this, if she was being honest with herself.

Her feelings towards Roman were always in flux because of the huge wall that he put up between him and the world. She was never sure if she actually liked Roman or was attracted to him, or felt pity for him, or if she secretly enjoyed their little arguments. Maybe Abe could help bring that wall down permanently one day, or at the very least, keep Roman from pissing people off so frequently.

Ulyssa left an hour later, after making sure Abe was in an okay place about his boyfriend. If she wasn’t sure about her feelings about Roman, she at least was starting to see Abe and Lucy as friends because of all of this. In a place like Arkhelios, teen friendships seemed to be rare, and however this all ended, Ulyssa was glad that she had gotten to better know the Chuns. Between this secret, and their parents running off together, she knew that if she needed support, she could actually find some back in Arkhelios.

Abe had gone to bed immediately after Ulyssa left, if only to have some time for himself away from Lucy’s over protectiveness. His mind was swirling with thoughts and feelings that he needed to process by himself without her open anger at Roman. To be honest though, he was starting to feel influenced by her remarks. Maybe Roman wasn’t coming back after all. Maybe he would return to school, and only see his family over school breaks.

An even worse feeling came over him suddenly. What if he brought home someone else from Pleasantview? Even if it had been arranged by his grandfather without Roman’s input, Abe wasn’t sure that he could live in an Arkhelios where Roman was engaged to some rich sim and forgot about all about him. He knew Lucy thought about this possibility all the time, and it had been Roman’s mission to bring new people here by any means necessary....

Abe buried his head in his pillow and groaned. This was a line of thought for tomorrow, when he didn’t feel so hopeless.

His bedroom door squeaked open, and Abe figured that it was just Lucy checking on him again. He turned on his side and pretended to be asleep, so she wouldn’t stay to make even more pitying remarks about Roman’s intentions.

“Abe? Are you awake?”

Abe bolted up quickly in his bed. He’d know that voice anywhere!

“Roman! You’re here! I can’t believe it!”

Against all odds, Roman was actually standing in Abe’s bedroom. Unless this was some kind of magical hallucination or trick, Abe had been right about Roman’s feelings for him.

Roman looked awkwardly at his feet.

“....Hi. How are you?” Roman cursed himself internally for being so awkward. It was just Abe after all. Still, it felt weird to talk to him now without bringing up the elephant in the room.

“Lucy was convinced that you were half-way to Veronaville by now.”

Roman flushed furiously. Neither teen moved for fear of spooking the other one. Abe could feel the tension in the room like it was physically pressing on him.

“I just needed some time,” Roman said. “I shouldn’t have run...but I’m here now. I want to be there for you...if you still want me to be.”

The tension began to ease. Abe quickly crossed the distance between them and grabbed Roman’s hands, placing them on his ever expanding stomach.

“Of course I still want you here!” he said fiercely. “It’s all I’ve been wanting since I found out about this...situation.”

The two teens sat on the floor and looked at the ground. Neither one seemed to know what to say. Roman reached for Abe’s hand, which caused Abe to jump and Roman quickly withdrew his own hand. Touching each other was what had caused this situation in the first place, and Abe still had Lucy’s warnings ringing in his head. Maybe if Roman had come immediately things would have been fine, but Abe had been freaking out alone for days now, and there was still awkwardness between them. Roman cleared his throat.

“H-how have things been?”

“The morning sickness has gotten a lot better, thank god,” Abe replied, and Roman nodded sympathetically.

“That sounds rough.” He made and held eye contact with Abe. “I’m sorry that I took so long to get here. I...I’m sorry that I put you in this position to start with. I never intended for this to happen.”

Abe reached for his hand without hesitation this time.

“I know,” he said. ��Neither did I. It’s been kind of a roller coaster of feelings the past few days.”

“My uncle Hunter is adopted,” Roman blurted out suddenly. ���His dad was Launce Durant, and my grandparents adopted him.”

Abe realized where this conversation was heading, and he was glad that Roman brought it up first. He had heard the Durants talking about their long lost half-brother before, and everyone wondered who Hunter’s other parent had been. Abe’s mom used to date Launce, but everyone knew how Launce’s life had spiraled out of control when his brother Benvolio died. Any one could be Hunter’s mother or father. Elaine had certainly not commented on Hunter’s origins, and Abe figured that if he had a half-brother out there, she would have probably mentioned it by now.

“When I worked at the orphanage, the kids seemed pretty happy,” Roman continued, playing absentmindedly with his shoelaces. “Some of them got adopted really quickly. I don’t think anyone here would know if...if we went there.”

Tears were starting to well up for both teens. Abe nodded and wiped his eyes.

“Yeah, no one would know,” he repeated sadly. “Maybe that’s best. Hunter seems really happy, and Launce sees him all the time now.”

Abe crawled back into his bed, and Roman mindlessly followed. Abe wrapped himself around Roman and tried not to cry.

“Roman? I don’t want to be like Launce,” he whispered. “Stay with me? We can figure this out together. What’s the difference of our families finding out about us now instead of when we’re in college? It’s only a few years.”

Roman froze momentarily, remembering his grandfather’s anger at the idea of him even talking to the Chuns, and the disappointment of his grandmother for not heeding her warnings about him following his hormones. He thought of how intensely Elaine watched him while he was near Abe, and what Lucy and Ulyssa surely thought of him by now.

He pulled Abe in closer to him.

“Okay,” he vowed. “We’ll do this together. Who cares about who knows.”

Elaine left for work early in the morning, blissfully unaware of the teenage drama brewing in her house. Oriana had pressing business at the bank for Abraham’s estate, and hitched a ride downtown with her wife, leaving the house in Ironman’s control. He had been acting a little dodgy lately when she talked about the kids, but she chalked it up to him readjusting to having Elaine back in his life, and getting to know the kids he had never seen because of Elaine and Abraham’s fighting.

Ironman purposely started his house cleaning away from the noisy kitchen, where he could hear Lucy shouting. Better to have plausible deniability and not check into that, he decided. He wasn’t sure to what extent his programming would allow him to keep information from his partner, so knowing nothing was probably the safer route. He felt that Oriana and Elaine would have more compassion than Abraham had shown for Elaine all those years ago, but he didn’t want to risk history repeating itself.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Lucy was shouting presumably at some one who didn’t normally live there, and was therefore a part of this messy situation. Ironman made himself scarce before he found out more.

Jorah had come over to walk to school with Lucy like he usually did, and was currently holding her back from attacking Roman.

“It’s romantic, he sighed dreamily. “Two people from fighting families falling in love and running off to start a life together....”

Finding Roman making pancakes for her brother was the last thing Lucy had expected to see that morning. The fact that they were acting so weirdly in love, and holding each other like they had planned this whole mess...It was impossible to stomach. Roman abandoned Abe for days and now here he was making a mess of the kitchen and spouting off syrupy declarations of love to her idiot brother.

“Jorah you can’t be buying this,” she groaned. “This is ridiculous! This isn’t a Veronaville soap opera, it’s real life and you two are about to ruin both of yours. Don’t let Roman drag you down like this Abe. He may have hit rock bottom, but you still have a future!”

“I haven’t hit rock bottom,” Roman corrected while flipping pancakes. “Dropping out of school means that I have time to be a dad now, and I can make breakfast for Abe every day.”

“Dropping out? You are being expelled,” Lucy corrected angrily. “And you have no money, no job and now no education. Where are you going to live? How are you going to pay for things like diapers and you know, basic things like food?”

Abe poked at his pancakes nervously.

“Well, Mom might let us stay,” he said. “Or the Bellamys. I’m sure they’d understand, and want to help raise their grandkid.”

“You think Mom is going to let Roman Bellamy live in our house? You think the Bellamys won’t just kick you to the curb? Look at how they’ve treated Adam his whole life. Look at how they’re treating him and Omar now!”

“But this would be different,” Abe protested. “Our families could come together now and be happy. Romeo and Juliet’s love always ends the fighting in the stories.”

Lucy just stared at her brother, unable to comprehend his line of thinking.

“No, you know what brings Romeo and Juliet’s families together? Death and lots of it.” She pointed at Abe with intensity. “If you decide to bring this idiot to Mom or walk into Salem Bellamy’s house with a baby, that’s all you will get too. If you are really serious about ruining your life, then go anywhere but here with Roman. Go to Pleasantview. Go live out your stupid fantasy in Veronaville. Just leave before you become yet another unsolved murder here.”

Lucy stood up dramatically, dragging an open mouthed Jorah with her.

“Some of us still have school to attend.”

[whynotwinnie]

Timida part 2: Roger Taylor x OC

a quick part 2 that i wrote just now hopefully I keep the momentum lol

Timida Part 2 

No Trigger warnings yet (there is one cuss word though)

MICKEY

“It took you long enough,” Roger said you could see his fake mad face from here. You couldn’t help but laugh checking the clock on your wall reading 7:37

“Sorry, I left the cafe a little later than expected.”

“What time did you end up leaving?”

“It was almost 7 when I walked out.”

“Are you kidding me?” he shouted into the receiver. You flinched at the sudden noise jerking your head from the speaker.

“I was literally right there, I could’ve stopped by after recording to go see you again. I thought you would be gone by then.” hearing the pout that he definitely had on his face made your heart jerk.

“I actually usually stay there for a while, I don’t like being at home by myself,” you cringed at yourself realizing how you sound “I mean like- I don’t like being lonely,” you ran your hand through your hair wishing you could go back in time.

“I understand what you mean like you realize how alone you are when you’re… well alone. I used to get like that too when I moved out but now that I live with one of my bandmates I wish I could be alone.” He joked.

God, he is so nice and respectful good thing you didn’t hang up.

“That’s exactly how I feel.” you almost whispered to the receiver

“Don’t feel bad I’m sure everyone has gone through that in one way or another, but hey you’re never alone you have me, and if you’re lucky I’ll only bother you all the time.”

You laughed, he is so good at talking you felt yourself start to relax and you pulled a nearby chair to the phone hook so you can sit and talk.

“How was your band recording going?” wishing you sounded less awkward than you felt. 

“It was great actually we hardly fought this time and we didn’t have to record the same song more than six times so I’ll say it’s a win.”

“Do you guys fight often?”

“Well… Noooo-yeah we do but we know not to take it to heart we all just want the best for the group, by the end of the day whatever fight broke out is forgotten and forgiven. It’s very rare that we don’t fight but hey, maybe today was my lucky day with meeting you and a good band practice.”

Your face burned. 

“Oh well, I got free coffee today and met you so I think I got lucky too.”

You spent the rest of the time getting to know little things about each other

What’s your last name? Taylor, What’s yours? Oliviero-Vila. What’s your favorite color? Black, can I guess yours. Sure. Purple. No, it’s Green. Green does suit you, Mickey. Do you have any siblings? Yeah, my sister is named Clare. Do you have siblings? I have four older brothers. Jesus Christ four? Yeah, their names are Lucas, Marcelino, Benvolio, and Matias. How was that? Yeah, growing up was a pain but I love them… I guess. Do you have a middle name, mine is Luciana. No, I don’t have a middle name. You don’t? Nope. Are you sure? I’m sure. Are you lying? No why would I lie about my middle name? I don’t know maybe because you don’t like it. Who doesn’t like their middle name? Roger are you going to tell me your middle name or not. Fine… It’s Meddows. I like it! Well of course you do, you’re a girl. I’ll switch you Luciana for Meddows. I’ll take that deal.

It went on and on until he brought up what you did for work. 

“Well it’s kind of a long story but I used to work for this seamstress downtown but recently I decided to go a different direction and work for myself.”

“So do you like fix clothes?” 

Ouch 

“Well I do that, but I also make my own clothes which is my real passion but as of right now all the orders I get are me making hemlines or fixing a patch.” 

“Where have you advertise your stuff?”

“At the cafe actually I put my information on the community bulletin board and got a handful of customers.”

“Next time you and I can go hang flyers all throughout town advertising your stuff if you want.”

“That’s okay,” you said grinning “I think I’m doing well for myself as of right now.”

“Let me kno- Fred are you serious right now Mickey can you give me a second please.”

You heard commotion on the other end of the line another voice and Roger arguing back and forth until.

“Hello Darling, is this Mickey?” you heard Rogers voice faintly in the background “Fred stop that’s not funny.”

“Umm yes.”

“You sound pretty I can understand why Roger was an hour late to recording today.” Rogers voice again in the back “C’mon don’t do that”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t know he had anywhere to be.” were you in trouble right now?

“That’s okay dear I don’t blame you, of course, it’s this devil over here that causes all the trouble. But I have to say he could not stop talking about you he just kept going on and on about how you were so beautiful and how funny you are.”

You stayed quiet, how are you supposed to answer that?

“I don’t think I’m that funny.” 

The other voice laughed “I think we’re going to get along great, I’m Freddie one of Roger’s bandmates and his flatmate so for future warning don’t fuck in my room.”

You choked red in the face “Oh gosh no- I wouldn’t- I mean in your room- I mean I just met Ro-”

“I’m just joking darling! Please you are too sweet I’ll let you go but I do expect to see you soon. Ta!” Freddie then handed the phone to Roger who had some choice words for him.

“I’m so sorry about that Mickey, I couldn’t grab the phone from him because he was sitting on me.”

“It’s okay no harm done, he is actually quite funny.”

“Yeah, he’s like that all the time.” he yawned you checked the time 12:26.

“I can let you go, I think that’s enough excitement for the day,” you said 

“I would love to continue to talk to you Mickey, honestly.” 

“Can I call you tomorrow?” you said softly

“Yes please,” he sighed “Our recording ends at the same time but on the weekend we’re off, do you think I can take you on a date then?”

“I would like that very much, Roger.” 

“Great. I’ll let you get your sleep now Mickey.”

“Ok, I’ll talk to you tomorrow Roger.”

“Goodnight love” and he hung up.

That “goodnight love” kept replaying in your head until it felt fake, you couldn’t possibly go to bed. 

You looked back at the discarded fabric at your work station and decided that it was time to start the gown.

You turned on your ancient sewing machine and pulled out your mannequin to drape the fabric on. 

Five hours later you had finished a dark blue off shoulder, A-line evening dress. It was simple but chic. You wish you had a camera so you could take a photo of it but the sketch would do. Maybe you could ask the client to take a photo of it for you so you can save it to your portfolio. You yawned shaking your head, now you really needed to go to bed.

Taking off your jeans you slid into your comforter thinking about how your day played out, wondering what turn of events led you to meet Roger. Thinking about him made your heart squeeze and then you thought of the last thing he said to you was “Good night love.” and you shut your eyes and slept.

[toyboy-molloy]

reddie + romeo and juliet

"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.”

Eddie could barely concentrate on the lines Richie was supposed to be learning thanks to the ridiculous itchy blonde wig he’d made him wear ‘for authenticity’. Richie was taking his surprise role as the leading man in Derry’s High production of Romeo + Juliet incredibly seriously. Eddie, not one for the theatre, glanced up from his own borrowed script. Richie was in character, a lovelorn expression on his face as he gazed at his ‘Juliet’. He broke a moment later, grinning like a fool.

“How was that?”

Eddie huffed, tossing aside the script to scratch his uncomfortable scalp under the wig, “who’s playing Juliet, again?”

"Lizzie Smith,” Richie replied with a salacious smirk, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. 

Lizzie Smith was a very pretty student who got most of the lead parts in productions. She had a reputation for dating her counterpart. Now he knew why Richie auditioned for Romeo. Eddie rolled his eyes, trying not to sound as jealous as he felt.

“Are we done now?”

“Hold on, I think I’ve got the first half of the play covered,” Richie flipped through his script, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “can we go over the death scene again?”

Again. The third time today Richie had wanted to perfect the final scene. The scene where he will have to kiss a girl on stage in front of his class, his friends, his parents and Eddie Kaspbrak. A girl he would possibly end up dating and marrying and raising kids with. But, like the idiot he was, Eddie nodded and clambered onto the bed, arranging himself to play dead. In character, Richie approached his ‘body’ and delivered his lines passionately and slightly over-the-top, dramatically brandishing an empty vial in the air before taking a pretend swig.

He fell limply at Eddie’s side, subtly arranging himself more comfortably. At his cute, Eddie rose from his ‘death’ and, after a quick glance at the script, cleared his throat and began reciting Juliet’s lines.

“I will kiss thy lips. Haply some poison yet doth hang on them. To make me die with a restorative.” As he began to lean down, Richie interrupted.

“Can you take the wig off?”

Eddie blinked his eyes open, his lips still puckered, “huh?”

“It gets in the way,” Richie said matter-of-factly, still very much pretending to be dead other than the fact his lips moved occasionally. Eddie wasn’t going to argue.

He tore the wig off of his head and threw into some corner of Richie’s room. He didn’t let himself think after that. He was too busy focusing on the feel of Richie’s lips, which were supposed to be cold, dead and unmoving. The tongue in his mouth and hands running through his hair suggested he was anything otherwise. Eddie pulled away, after much longer than he cared to admit.

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

Richie was grinning again, pushing his glasses back into place, “if Lizzie Smith kisses anything like that, Eds, everyone’s gonna know I’m anything but.”

“So gross,” he said, gathering his school bag and coat. Once he was ready, he turned to see Richie still spread out on his bed, a faraway look on his face and a dreamy smile, “I’ve gotta go, Rich.”

“Okay, Eds. Thanks for the help. I’ll call you later.”

Eddie smiled, closing Richie’s door behind him as he left. He bade goodbye to Maggie and Went and began walking home. He tried everything he could not to concentrate on what it felt like to kiss Richie, to be held by him, knowing it was all for someone else. Of course, it was all he could think about.

-

Opening night of the play came quicker than Eddie expected it to. He and Richie had rehearsed every night for the last three weeks; they’d practised the final death scene more than any others much to Eddie’s inner torment. Eddie arrived at school to help with the preparations. Bev was designing costumes and Ben was working on scenery. Mike and Bill had been cast as Benvolio and Paris respectively (Richie was especially excited about having to pretend to kill Bill). Stan wanted to stay as far away as possible and had been put on tickets; he didn’t mind. In fact, he was relieved.

It was almost time to start and Eddie still hadn’t seen Richie; he’d wanted to wish him luck or ‘break a leg’ as he’d been told many times. All too soon he was being pulled into a spectator’s seat next to Bev. Sighing, Eddie resigned himself to watching the play. Thanks to Richie, he knew the stupid thing almost off by heart. Which was why he was shocked when someone other than Richie swanned onto the stage, uttering Romeo’s lines. He was confused, wondering if Richie had dropped out or gotten nervous. That was until Richie pranced out onto the stage, wearing a very different costume and speaking vastly different lines to the ones he’d been learning with Eddie. He turned to Bev questioningly, leaning close to whisper to her.

“What’s going on?”

Bev frowned, looking from the stage to Eddie, “what? Richie’s doing a great job. He was born to play Mercutio.”

“Then, why did he tell me he was playing Romeo?” Eddie was looking back at the stage, watching as Richie did his finest, and campest, acting. He had to admit, he was very good. But he was still confused, “he made me practice the kissing scene like fifty times. Why would he do that if he wasn’t playing Romeo?”

Bev just looked at him, an infuriatingly knowing smile on her face, “Eddie, honey...”

As realisation swept over Eddie, he turned back towards the stage. Richie was still performing but he managed to catch Eddie’s eye and the bastard had the audacity to wink. Eddie tried not to smile, shaking his head as Richie gave the subtlest shrug before getting back to work. Eddie watched the rest of the play with a dumb smile on his face, counting down the minutes until he could congratulate Richie properly.

[diveronaevents]

DATE: April 10th

TIME: 10 AM

LOCATION: Cimitero Monumentale di Verona

TRIGGERS: Death, Grieving

The procession is a deliberately public affair. To lose a police officer gets the whole city out in droves, and while the funeral itself is closed to the public, they gather outside the set perimeter, tears in their eyes. Sure, they may recognize that many of those in attendance are Montagues, but in this moment they feel united with them in their grief. In this moment, the city will mourn with them as well, and the press have gathered to watch it all unfold.

SEBASTIAN, CELIA, BENVOLIO, MERCUTIO, ROSALIND, and TAMORA are asked to act as pallbearers, and there is no traditional funeral mass. It seemed obscene to try, considering where Valentina died. In lieu of having a priest stand up for her, ROMEO takes the podium to offer a eulogy, and comfort to his familia in their grief. Damiano Montague is not present for the ceremony.

“Before we begin, I have been asked to give my father’s apologies,” ROMEO says, appropriately solemn as he stands elevated above the crowd, but for those close enough to spot it, they find a hint if reproach in his expression. “He has deemed it an unnecessary risk to make himself so vulnerable today, but he grieves with us, and is here in spirit.” The words are carefully chosen, and they hit their mark; he sees some faces twist in anger at Damiano’s cowardice, SEBASTIAN chief among them. 

ROMEO continues: 

“Friends,” he begins, clearing his throat. “Family. We gather here today to mourn the loss of one of our brightest. Valentina Gallo was not merely a soldier, not merely an officer of the law. She was loved as she loved us — fiercely and without reserve.” Cheers go up in the crowd from various Montagues alike, from both those who knew her and those who only saw her in passing. They did not need to know her to rally around her. 

“She had a difficult task, but no matter what was asked of her, she faced it with courage I should hope someday to possess myself. She inspired me, and I know she has also inspired many of you.” Roman looks down at the podium, for his voice has begun to shake, but he regains his momentum quickly. “We will not be the same without her. We will never be the same, after the loss of one of our own, but we will have each other. Too long I have leaned on all of you; today, I offer myself as a pillar of support.” His voice hardens, taking on an edge of steel. “I will catch you if you fall. Losing Valentina is not about being strong in the face of suffering. It’s about feeling that pain, letting that hurt well up inside us, and using it to build something better. We will ensure, together, that her death does not go unpunished.”

He says no more on that subject, for press surround them and he must stop just shy of outright discussing mafia business. Instead, he turns toward the open casket, Valentina’s porcelain skin white even against the inside lining, hair dark and long around her face like a pool of ink. “Today, we do not leave Valentina behind. We will always carry her with us, and she will always push us to fly higher, try harder, do more than we thought we could. I know that all of us, no matter how well we knew her, will leave this place ready to make her proud.” Emotion colors his words, and he knows there are some within the crowd who’ve begun to cry. “Thank you, VIOLA. Drinks in your honor tonight.” 

Eulogy done, he steps down from the podium with a nod to SEBASTIAN. Traditionally, he would also say a few words, but as they put together the funeral, it was ultimately decided that it would be worse pain to subject him to talking about her than to let someone else take over. Still, ROMEO thinks as he watches SEBASTIAN be the first to step forward and kiss her cheek. He lingers a moment before walking around to the other side of the casket to shut it, and one by one, the Montagues step forward to toss dirt and flowers on her grave. A few even bring shots with them, which puts a smile on more than one face, even in the midst of tears and tragedy.

It is a good ceremony. Imperfect, but emotional, exactly like VIOLA herself.

-

OVERVIEW: And that's that! At last, we have officially concluded the events for this time period. While not all Montagues are mentioned, all who wish to be are present, and you may headcanon or write within the ceremony as you please. In addition, any Capulets who wish to pay their respects (or watch the show) are welcome to be a part of the crowd surrounding, and members of the press were also in attendance, of course. While this is a Montague event, all are welcome to participate within the bounds of what’s outlined here! Thank you Alyx for giving us a wonderful Valentina.

[iwannawritepls]

Writing Update 05

Guess who finished. guess. go on guess. That’s right it was me!!

It was pretty intense because my playlist had finished and so I was sat feverishly typing the last paragraph out in silence and then when I went round for the final spell check I was listening to Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths and it finished as I finished and it was a moment.

So so so. in total we have

69069 words (nice) and 102 pages spread over 23 chapters and 5 parts. I can actually go into the plot and stuff now too because I know what that is from start to finish. I won’t go into that here I’ll just talk about the last chapters. Buckle up this ones gonna be long.

Whence last we left off there were 17 chapters and now there’s twenty-three. Chapter seventeen also has an actual name too so yay.

Chapter 17 – Pinches of Catgut

Chapter 18 – Yours Forever, Echo

Chapter 19 – Ink’s Tarnish

Chapter 20 – Red Room

Chapter 21 – Crosshatched Scars

Chapter 22 – Chasing Sundust

Chapter 23 – Amen

Chapter 17 originally is now what chapter 18 and chapter 23 isn’t really an epilogue but it also is y’know? Like the last two chapters are the endings in their own right (I say as if I didn’t stop reading The Darkest Minds seven pages from the end)

But c’est la vie!

Chapter 16 (I can finally explain this stuff woo) we had the fallout to the guy’s being told they have to pay the devil – who isn’t really the devil and is actually a god in his own right but that’s beside the point – back for everything he’s done for them. this one focuses on Valentine and Albert having a bit of a moment where I realised ‘oh gosh everyone is a foil to everyone oh gosh’

Chapter 17 is kinda the same but from William and Basil’s side where they have their own conversation about who Will killed Charlie by accident….yeah…William is still baby he just killed someone that’s fine. This is fine.

Chapter 18 is where shit hits the fan because oh my god James is back!!!!! Idk if I mentioned this but James is Enoch’s dead bf who wasn’t dead at all and I’ve been hinting at it the entre god damned book. I almost didn’t include it but after a talk with one of my friends I realised that James’ being alive would bring in more tea than ever before and well,,,,,,why wouldn’t I?

Oh yeah James also tells Enoch that everyone is coming to find them.

The way I'm explaining this seems like stuff just happens, but I swear I do add threads throughout! I'm just disjointed in my thought process.

Chapter 19 is the beginning of the end. We have a rush to pack as they’re trying to get out and they would have more help from James but Basil doesn’t trust James, Enoch is drunk, William has lost a lot of blood and both Al and Valentine had been asleep so they’re slow and groggy and it’s raining because England and winter and the coast is just a great combination.

Enoch and James end up going ahead cus people are getting close and they need to get their stuff away from there. There were three cases left to tie but they didn’t have time so while James and Enoch go ahead the others are carrying the last three cases to the docks so they can tie and run.

Chapter 20 is where Enoch wraps his beef with Aristide up. kinda. He originally planned on just saying goodbye but then stuff happens and he feels bad for Aristide so he just gives him to the devil without the murder part of it.

Chapter 21 valentine kills his uncle and gets closure™

Chapter 22 this chapter is so good. I love it, I love it so much. I'm still kinda feeling funky about it because its got a flashback and the rest of the book hasn’t got anything exactly like this – unless you consider the small titbit in chapter 17 a flashback. But I really delve into Sebastian’s psyche and before then I kinda hated Sebastian but it feels like he's had a whole ass character arch and I love it. I really love this chapter so much.

And finally chapter 23 is them running and the last of the setup for the next book

I want to include memes but they’re all old stuff. If I have anything new, I’ll insert it if not I’ll keep 5 random facts about the boy’s as my transition.

Albert

When he was a bab he wanted to meet keats before he realised the mans is dead.

Can write in shorthand in both Russian and English just so long as he doesn’t focus too hard on it

Albert is his middle name, Lyonya is his first name

Is a cat person.

Orders the same meal at every restaurant even if they don’t serve it. if they don’t serve it he has a tiny crisis.

Also defo has one of the others order for him

Basil

Defo a gifted and talented student if he was alive today

He's technically an accountant and low key enjoys it

Can fight but is a pacifist by choice

Skipped class once and got bored and never did it again

When they were still at school he would look after the groups deeds to land and do all the legal stuff for them because they had no clue. He still has all of Valentine’s papers and so could technically steal valentines land and nobody would care.

Enoch

Isn’t gay is actually bisexual

Is really good at science but just doesn’t care about it

He ate leek and potato soup exclusively for three weeks on a dare

Once played Mercutio and tripped on stage. Managed to hide it pretty well but hasn’t lived it down.

Would live in an old theatre if he could just for the aesthetic and bragging rights

Valentine

His family is of German heritage

Bakes as a stress relief but gets hyper focused on one thing for ages (tarts is the big one of the year)

Is the mum of the group but wouldn’t ever admit it

Cannot do maths for shit. or much else. He can just speak a lot and paint.

It’s a continuous joke irl and in novel universe that he’s called Valentine, but his birthday is on February 15th because his parents thought it was still February 14th when he was born.

William

Allergic to honey but would eat it anyway

Joined classes three years after everyone else

Is the only one in the group that understands people

Has a really bad centre of gravity and falls over a lot

He's 6’7

Bonus – a wild Sebastian appeared.

Acts 50 is 20

Is just brine

In a constant state of identity crisis

Was he born or did he just appear fully formed? Nobody knows

Always stuck as Benvolio. No matter what. forever. He hates it.

Excerpts! –

“you are a walking disaster.” Basil sighed

“I'm your favourite disaster though.” He could hear the smile in Enoch’s voice.

I just like these lines. Nothing too deep just thought they were funny.

Basil placed a hand on his knee hoping the rain could drown out what the music that followed William could not.

My mans being a supportive friend

He finished pulling the manuscript together and reached for the box Albert kept all his current writings in. it was a small box with darker patches between the broken veins where ink had spit and flowed between the cracks.

i have nothing to say about this 

They only had real tenderness with some of the fragile things. A school given copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream, a book by a man called Sashenka Potemkin, teacups with still blooming meadows painted onto them, a book about a monastery, a violin case that had nail marks embedded into the leather, an easel.

Y’know keepsakes are Important but if you’re running shouldn’t you pack light? Probably but these guys are sentimental bastards

The shops were alive with people, the two pubs were open and selling even the tailoress was in business. He wasn’t entirely surprised; worms came out during a storm. They thrived when the squawking of the gulls had disappeared.

We live in a society – Enoch 2019

The gate yielded under his hand, the closest he got to acceptance in the high walls. It seemed colder once he’d walked into the threshold, urging him towards the sickening feeling of unbelonging that sat in his gut. It made him want to turn away and never come back some of the time. How much he didn’t belong there.

Sebastian is yearning™

Basil reached into Albert’s pocket and pulled the crocus out. Albert didn’t react as he did so. he stared at it twirling it between his fingers staring at the petals and their untarnished glory despite having been used to kill them all at least once.

And while that isn’t the last line that’s the end of this. I'm taking a break from beginning anything big and while I want to move onto writing Adalius, Ariane and Adionis’ story I’ll wait for a moment before I do. just because I cant bring myself to think about how I'm starting this yet.

Anyway. That means no updates for at least 3 weeks. I know you’re all distraught. But yeah.

I hope you have a good day.

Thanks for reading this!

BYEEE!

[fantasticallyfoolishidea]

Something that occurred to me just now:

The four young men in Romeo and Juliet – Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio and Tybalt – each seem to represent one of the four temperaments as described in the theory of humorism. And I doubt that’s a coincidence.

You see, the theory of the four temperaments was widely accepted in Elizabethan England. You had the four humors (fancy speak for body fluids): blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm, and lack or excess of one of them was thought to cause certain moods, emotions or behaviours.

Now, in the “ideal” personality those four humors and the associated traits were in balance, however, in the “less ideal” types, one is dominant over the others. The personalities associated with each humour are sanguine (blood), choleric (yellow gall), melancholic (black gall), and phlegmatic (phlegm).

Shakespeare frequently references the four humors in his plays, some of the most prominent examples probably being the melancholic Hamlet and the choleric Lady Macbeth. But there are also mentions of the temperaments in R&J which brings me back to what I initially meant to talk about. (For simplicity’s sake, I’m quoting Wikipedia on the descriptions of the temperaments.)

Mercutio: sanguine personality types were said to be highly talkative, enthusiastic, active, and social. They’re extroverted and enjoy being part of a crowd. They find that being social, outgoing, and charismatic is easy to accomplish. They have a hard time doing nothing and engage in more risk seeking behaviour. Sound familiar? That list of traits could just as well be a description of Mercutio. Furthermore, in the very scene that Benvolio points out “these hot days, is the mad blood stirring” Mercutio ends up involving himself in a duel and getting himself killed.

Tybalt – choleric personality types were said to be extroverted. They are independent, decisive, goal-oriented, and ambitious. These traits and their dominant, result-oriented outlook make them natural leaders. They were also violent, vengeful, and short-tempered. Short-tempered, as in issuing a challenge over someone gatecrashing a party and being told to let it go? Tybalt also directly references the humors in that same scene “Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting / Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.”

Romeo – melancholic personality types were said to be analytical and detail-oriented, deep thinkers and feelers. They are introverted and try to avoid being singled out in a crowd; self-reliant individuals who are thoughtful, reserved, and often anxious. They strive for perfection within themselves and their surroundings, which leads to tidy and detail oriented behavior. While I’m not sure about that last bit, and downright skeptic about “thoughtful and reserved”, being “deep thinkers and feelers” fits Romeo to a T. He spends much of the first act doing little else but feeling and tries his hardest to avoid going to the party Mercutio and Benvolio are trying to drag him to and has a habit of ditching them in favour of his own pursuits. He also subtly references the humors as he’s monologuing about the nature of love “a madness most discreet, / A choking gall and a preserving sweet.”

Benvolio – phlegmatic personality types were said to be relaxed, peaceful, quiet, and easy-going. They are sympathetic and care about others. They try to hide their emotions. Phlegmatic individuals are good at generalizing ideas or problems to the world and making compromises. Benvolio spends much of his time trying to keep the peace and solve other people’s problems. He offers to talk to Romeo to see what’s wrong with him, he tries to help Romeo get over Rosaline, and he tries to keep Mercutio out of trouble, and when Romeo and Mercutio engage in some friendly ribbing he tends to keep out of it. He mentions that “A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad” at some point, but unlike Romeo never goes into depth about what’s troubling him.

In other words, you have four young men, each with a personality that’s dominated by one particular humour. Or rather, four young men, none of which has a “balanced” personality due to each of them being influenced by the excess of one particular humor. The ideas of balance and harmony were actually kind of a big deal during the Renaissance. And in R&R it becomes quite clear that excess – particularly excess of emotion, be it love, hate, sadness, anger, whatever – is not exactly a good thing.

And then Act III, Scene 1 happens. Mercutio, Tybalt, Romeo, and Benvolio with their violently contrasting personalities are all on stage together. You could go even deeper: melancholic and phlegmatic personalities were said to have cold qualities; sanguine and choleric personalities hot. Cold was said to suppress action, whereas heat stimulated it. Take the duel: Benvolio tries to stop it before breaks out, Mercutio provokes it, Tybalt insists upon it, Romeo first tries to avoid then to stop it.

In scene III.1 four excessive personalities mingle and for the first time there is no outside influence to diffuse the situation (like Lord Capulet did at the ball). They clash and, like a barrel of gunpowder, everything goes up in flames.

[aki-draws-things]

I've been staring at your Bad Things Happen bingo while just giggling "stabbing, hehehe..." but more seriously: would you mind doing "Never got to say goodbye" for our dear Tybalt and Paris?

I did it!!! I can’t believe, but it’s finally there! (I’ll check mistakes tomorrow, so I apologize in advance.)

It got longer than expected, but ehy! The boys deserve it, right? (Though they don’t deserve what happened to them.)The stabbing one would have been interesting too...I hope you’ll like it ~

@badthingshappenbingo

Prompt:  Never got to say goodbye Fandom: Romeo et JulietteShip: Tyris

“Uncle said not to leave the house. Mercutio are you listening? Mercut –” The door slammed close and Valentine was left alone in the big hall; he couldn’t blame his brother, he couldn’t force him to remain in the house for God only knew how long. Sure, he wanted to keep him safe, just as everyone else, but knowing his friends maybe he was safer outside. Maybe. Not that Valentine could take the risk.

“Find the man who brought the news here. - He said turning to two guards behind himself. - And bring him to me.” They both nodded at unison, bowed slightly to the younger Escalus and left. What else could he do, after all? With his uncle in Mantua since the previous night and Mercutio outside in the streets he was the only one in the house with some authority and he would use it all without reserve.

“I can’t lie to you, Mercutio. I don’t feel particularly sad for what happened. - “Romeo, for the love of--!” Benvolio stepped in. - I mean, yes, it’s bad and I’m not happy it happened. But I’m not sad either.” Mercutio wanted to laugh, he knew how Romeo would feel even before telling them what happened, they both knew already, a shorter version, no details nor anything. Just like all of Verona by then.

“I get it. - Mercutio sat on a bench between them. - There was a time when I couldn’t care less of how he was, but things changed over the years. Things…” He lowered his eyes as realization settled in.

His uncle had no time to think of that, not while leaving in the dead of the night after the news of an ambush against his son happened, but himself and Valentine… they could’ve thought of it sooner. Or simply thought of it. But didn’t, either of them.

“Someone has to tell him. - He whispered to himself. - He would know already, but someone has to tell him.” A dread feeling engulfed his heart and cut out his friend’s voices. “How can I tell him?” Every other sound got cut out and he just stared ahead.

Lunch was already a moment Tybalt hated, with his uncle’s complaining about everything he did, his talks of Juliet’s marriage with Paris, his –  well, his uncle talking. It always ended up ruining his mood in one way or another; that day had been no different.

He started complaining of his laziness, how he remained in bed until late morning, not knowing the kind of night he had spent, alone.

He woke up in the middle of the night, red curtains drawn around his bed and an unpleasant suffocating feeling. All he could remember was dreaming, what would be too much to ask, it was bad, that he knew for sure, he felt panic rise in his chest, like a bubble swelling in his throat, an unspoken fear taking hold of him. He laid in bed, blankets thrown aside, trying his best to remember what he was dreaming about, what could shock him so much. By the end of the night, before falling back asleep, all that came to his mind was that he must have dreamed of death. It was far from being a comforting thought, but he was too tired to fight it. It was a dream and nothing more, he said to himself, and yet he had this sense of dread, like a knot in his stomach refusing to leave, and it was still there at lunch.

“Are you okay, cousin?” Juliet’s voice mingled with the low whispered one of a servant, talking quickly at Lord Capulet. He only heard Paris’ name, nothing else.

“It seems that Count Paris – He looked up at Juliet, expecting her to show some interest in the news, instead it was Tybalt that turned just slightly at the mention. - had been wounded in an ambush last night.” The knot, or whatever was in his stomach, tightened, he felt his heart miss a beat, felt it drop, and suddenly his head was light, everything confused and dazed. He felt sick. Sicker than he had ever been before in his life, and damn, he had been sick.

“Tybalt? - Juliet’s voice was so far from him. It was wrong. It was so wrong. - Tybalt what’s wrong? Are you sick? You look like you’re going to have a fit. Or throw up. Or straight up faint.”

He pushed himself up, swayed a little and steadied himself with a hand on the chair. He had to get out. He needed air. He needed to be alone. He needed to find Mercutio. If someone knew more about this rumor that would be Mercutio.

“Sorry, I – - He stopped, stumbled back toward the door, his face pale, for a moment he feared Juliet would be right about the fit. Except he didn’t feel it coming, not yet at least. - I just need some air. I don’t feel too good since last night. I might be coming down with something. I – I –” He turned and walked, ran, outside, slumping against the wall as soon as he left the palace.

“We found this in his possession, Lord Escalus.” Valentine turned, it always sounded strange when guards talked so formally to him. Normally that title was reserved to his uncle, sometimes to Paris. Mercutio had been called like that exactly once in his life and he laughed until he cried. Him, on the other hand, he simply felt strange but there wasn’t much he could do, in that exact moment he was the one in charge, mostly because Mercutio ran out of the house as soon as he could. - But again, Valentine couldn’t blame him. -

“Show me.” He walked closer to the guard and took the dagger from his hands; it was familiar, sure he saw it at his cousin’s hip since – Well, Valentine didn’t remember when he first saw it, it had been years, that he was sure of. One of the first gifts. A promise, instead of giving a ring. He remembered how Paris had been proud and jealous of that particular dagger, a rose engraved on the hilt by expert hands, a callback to the Capulet’s crest. Tybalt personally made that dagger and, not without shame, Paris gave him his.

“It’s ruined, used, maybe not even too sharp. But it bears our crest. It’s yours, if you want it.” Tybalt sharpened the blade and kept it on himself since then, just like Paris did. And now the dagger was in Valentine’s hands. It shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t know. Maybe he didn’t but Valentine couldn’t take the risk, family was everything, he had been taught. Whether it was by blood or not.

“Find out everything he knows. You, - He pointed at one guard, the one who gave him the dagger. - with me.”

Everything felt hazy, like living in a lost dream, somewhere where Tybalt could barely make out the borders and everything around him merged in a whirlpool of forms and colors. He made three steps, not more, before what little lunch he managed to eat found new residence on the cobbles of the street but didn’t help him feeling any better. His head was still spinning, the heart pounding fast in his ribcage, for a moment he thought he was going to faint right where he was, or maybe Juliet was right and a fit, one of the bad ones, was coming, despite him not feeling it. - He truly hoped it wasn’t the case. It had been only three months since the last one, having one this soon would do no good for him. He still remembered how it was when he was a child and they were much more frequent.

As soon as he felt his legs again, without them buckling up at the mere thought of taking a step, he ran. The thought of running straight to Mantua slipped through his thoughts as he passed a stable.

“No. No, you fool. Find Mercutio, he will know what’s going on.” The second thought caught him by surprise, everything was so blurred, thoughts included, that it was strange he could make it out so clearly. The dream still lingered in the back of his mind, far away, blurred as everything else, but deeply unsettling, the more he thought of it, just as that previous night, and less he could remember.

Mercutio was sitting between his two friends when Tybalt finally found him, so caught in his own thoughts that at first he didn’t notice him. Romeo and Benvolio did, though, and slid a bit closer to their friend, like they wanted to protect him. - Protect him from an unarmed man? - They wouldn’t be so wrong if the rumor was true, maybe Mercutio was in danger too.

He walked closer, he tried to. Suddenly his legs were heavy again, the world was spinning and he felt like he was going to fall; still he pushed himself forward dragging his feet on the ground. What were they thinking? He must have looked drunk, hobbling their way like some kind of reanimated corpse.

“Tell me… - His voice sounded raspy, for a moment, a very long moment, he believed he was going to throw up again just because he opened his mouth. He didn’t but the feeling was there. - Tell me it’s not true. Tell me it’s just a rumor.”

Mercutio looked up without saying a word. For a moment he didn’t even recognize Tybalt.

He took in his appearance. He noticed how pale his face was, a sickening white, like a ghost, the sweat sticking the blond strands to his forehead, - “Sweat from what? Did he ran? Is he sick? Maybe both. Is he going to have a fit? Oh good Lord, no please. We can’t stay here, and he’ll need a medic.” Mercutio's mind seemed to run too fast for him to keep up. - Tybalt’s eyes were wide in fear and desperation, pleading him for an answer he didn’t have. He was only wearing a plain shirt, one Mercutio was sure he saw him wearing in bed, disheveled and even dirty, no red coat, no sword at his side, only the familiar dagger. The one Paris gave him.

For a moment Mercutio thought he had to sprint forward and grab him before he fell, for a second moment he thought he would see his beloved cousin drop like a broken doll in front of them.

“I beg of you, dear Mercutio… - Tybalt held out a hand, tried to grab his, his voice broken just as his look in Mercutio’s eyes, his words, affectionate and pleading, telling him he didn’t care if others could hear them. - Tell me it’s not true.”

He wanted to. He really wanted to, but that would have been lying, wouldn’t it? Mercutio wasn’t even sure himself, there was anything of the whole ordeal he was sure of. His uncle was still in Mantua, his cousin was hurt, maybe even dying, - Almost certainly dying. - his little brother trying to keep himself together and –

“Tybalt!” Valentine’s voice interrupted his thoughts and made everyone turn. One would believe the younger Escalus was angry, maybe even furious, from the tone he used. He joined them running, a guard in black and yellow following shortly after him. “Where on Earth were you? And don’t you dare answering me! - He exclaimed pointing a finger at him. - I went to the Capulet Palace and Lady Juliet said you ran away claiming you were sick. One would not go around when sick. Not even my brother does that.” He walked closer breathing heavily and looked back and forth between Tybalt and Mercutio before sighing. “Am I the only one in this God forsaken family who understand the meaning of safety?”

“I am safe.” Mercutio almost complained. Almost. Valentine looked too worried in that moment, he would only make him angry, and both him and Tybalt were aware of how dangerous Valentine could be if provoked.

“You need to come with me. Both of you, actually.”

“Valent – ” Tybalt started but the boy stopped him immediately, before he could even finish his name. He took the dagger from under his cloak and held it to Tybalt.

“The guards stopped a man who was spreading the news around Verona. We don’t know yet if hes the perpetrator or just a messenger, but he had this on himself when they stopped him.” He waved at the dagger with the engraved rose, dagger Tybalt turned in his hands careful, like he was hlding the most precious treasure. The ground shifted slightly beneath his feet. “Now, for the love of God, will you both come with me?”

He looked at Romeo and Benvolio who were now eyeing the dagger and Tybalt, Valentine was almost sure they were thinking he was somehow responsible for what happened, he almost dared them to say a word.

“Don’t make me force you. - He begged, and Mercutio took a step forward. - There’s no one I trust right now , apart from family. No Montagues, no Capulets, no one. Just this time, Just this one time do as I ask.”

Tybalt didn’t hear him, he couldn’t take his eyes away from the dagger, everything was spinning once again. It was his dagger, the one he made, the one he gifted to Paris. If the man, whoever he was, had it it meant he knew. And not only him perhaps. They knew about him, about them.

What if it was his fault Paris got –

Mercutio grabbed him, stretched his arms out and caught him as he fell, Tybalt blinked slowly, confused to finding himself on the ground, with Mercutio’s arms closed around his body.

“Everything is fine, just breathe.”

“Liar.” he wanted to say but his voice was nowhere to be found, lost somewhere like he felt he was too. His head hurt more than before, black dots danced in front of him making him nauseous. “Nothing is fine. Nothing will be fine. Paris is – ”

He grabbed his arm in despair moving restlessly despite Mercutio’s hold.

“I – - His voice came out shaky and small. - I should be in Mantua.”

Valentine almost laughed, he stepped in front of him and knelt on the ground until he was everything Tybalt could see.

“So they can get you too? No way in hell, no. I won’t allow that. Listen to me – Listen, Tybalt. - He took his face in the hands and forced him to look at him. - We’ll need you. Mercutio, and me, and our uncle to. We will need you, whatever will happen. Mantua will need you. I something happens, and I’m not saying it will, - He added when Tybalt squirmed and tried to break free from his gentle hold. - if it does happen we will need you to be safe. And right now that city is far from safe. Especially for you.”

“By his side. I promised, Valentine… You know I did.”

“Yes. - It was Mercutio now, his arms still holding him tight. - And Paris would want you safe too. You know that even better than we do.”

He lifted him, stopping the guard from helping them with a quick wave of the hand.

“Mercutio what – ?” Romeo tried to move closer but Valentine stepped between them, picked up the dagger that slipped from Tybalt’s hand and held it out.

“Stay where you are. I don’t care how long you’ve been friend with Mercutio, or how much he can trust you, you follow us and I’ll have you head decorating the hall.” Unconsciously Romeo took a few steps back. Benvolio, on the other hand, moved forward, uncaring of the knife.

“Whatever happened he, for sure, won’t be safe around a Capulet. That dagger is the proof. What if he –”

“He’s an Escalus, you dumb, blue-clothed monkey.” Valentine said, annoyed, the blade shifting just slightly in his hand, resting against Benvolio’s neck without hurting him. Yet. “We’re much better than you all at keeping secrets, especially when said secret is about a marriage.” He eyed Romeo briefly, then turned once sure they wouldn’t follow them just yet.

He would be a good Prince one day, Tybalt thought dazed. A respected Prince. One Verona could even learn to love, maybe. - A dangerous, loyal and powerful Prince, too. Whether he would rule with power or justice or love only the future would tell. -

Days later the world broke. The ground opened beneath Tybalt’s feet and threatened to swallow him, was not for Mercutio and Valentine being so close to him to catch him. He should’ve been there. He should have been by his side, he kept saying. He should have at least said goodbye.

Months later he force a smile on his face, so fake that he could only fool the guests at the party, but never the rest of his family.

He watched as Juliet entered the room and his gaze softened for a moment walking toward her, it almost surprised him how she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly, a thousand questions falling from her lips.

“Where have you been? What are you wearing?” Tybalt laughed, it wasn’t happy, not really, but it was the closest think to a laugh Mercutio heard in months.

“Asks the one dressed in blue.” He linked their arms and walked back toward Mercutio and Valentine.

“And you’re wearing…  White. And gold. That’s quite neutral.”

“Thank God they’re neutral. It would have been a problem, otherwise.” Valentine hugged him just as she did a moment before before parting when the Prince joined them.

“I hoped you would make it on time. - Juliet looked positively confused at the familiar tone the man used with Tybalt, like he was family, or something of sort. - Come, tell me how is Mantua, my dear Count.”

[hanatriestowrite]

Not Quite Mortal (R&J Fae Mercutio AU)

(An AU Based off of @unlinedpapers‘s fanart of Mercutio that you can see here. Their art is actually amazing, you should go check it out! 

(TW: blood + choking + temporary character death )

Whispers of the fae were nothing new in Verona. Parents would spin tales about these magical creatures and their terrifying ethereal natures. The citizens of Verona used these creatures to create cautionary stories to keep their children away from the wood when the night was nigh, or to keep them from acting out. Very few actually bothered to leave milk or honey out on their doorsteps as offerings. The people of Verona were not one to entertain superstitions, they had other things to be concerned about. Like the feud between the Montagues and the Capulets.

The people of Verona may not have entertained superstitions, but Romeo Montague reveled in the idea of their existence. Perhaps it was his romantic nature which drew him to these fantastical creatures. Romeo was never one to find himself in the library’s in most days, unlike his cousin, but he scoured the entire town for books about the people of the fae. Changelings, elves, sirens, and more, he learned of them all.

In hindsight, he should’ve been able to discover the truth about his best friend armed with this information. The signs had been blaring at his face for years now. He was blindsided by Mercutio’s trickster gambets and charming personality to see what was hidden from him. The aversion to the church and the Friar, only being able to get away with not showing up to mass because he was the Prince’s kinsman. When there were burns along Mercutio’s hands, he would simply laugh it off, telling them that the iron was hot. Romeo didn’t realize at the time that he too had placed his hands on the same iron bar, and it was cold to the touch.

Romeo could have foreseen this, maybe that’s why he found himself hating himself even more for what had happened.

The second Mercutio was struck down, the whole town saw that there was something terribly wrong. As the blood began to pool under his body, inky thunder clouds rolled through the sky, eclipsing the once unbearably sunny day. The crackling thunder roared from the heavens above. A cool breeze swept across the streets, leaving an icy chill in the air. Benvolio kneeled on the ground, Mercutio’s head lying on his lap as he desperately attempted to stop the blood from flowing out of the wound. Tybalt stood frozen, his hands trembled, looking down at his blood-stained hands. His mouth moved wordlessly, his breath visible through the chilling vapors.

Romeo grabbed the rapier from the ground and began to slowly make his way towards Tybalt, white-knuckled. His vision went red and the rage surfaced inside of him. His only intention was a strike down Tybalt, no matter what the consequences may be. In one lifetime, the Prince of Cat might have been struck down by the dreamer of Verona but that is not this lifetime.

Before Romeo could draw his sword against Tybalt, dark chuckle echoed throughout the streets. Romeo felt his throat go dry, the voice was omnipresent, sounding everywhere and nowhere at once. The presence of the voice was suffocating, shaking the population to their very core. If the atmosphere felt cold before, it was completely frozen now. The clattering of metal followed quickly as the Capulets’ swords slipped out of their hands and their eyes were clouded with horror. Romeo turned his head around.

He saw Benvolio, his cousin, backing away on the ground, the blood on his hands already drying. He had one hand raised over his mouth and trembled at the sight before him.

A dark purple aura washed over the street of Verona. It lashed and spread violently, gathering up at one spot. A figure stood before them, silhouetted by the aura. The tendrils of purple flickered, latching onto the figure before tentatively disappearing into wisps in the air. A cloud of thick smog blanketed the area around them, breathing seemed to be near impossible. The deep purple started to fade, giving features to the figure. It was only then that Romeo realized, Mercutio was not lying on Benvolio’s lap, Mercutio was not bleeding out on the ground.

Piercing purple eyes illuminated in the smog, blazing with a form of primal fury. Disheveled dark hair stuck onto their forehead from the sweat. Dirt and grime matted their newly tattered and torn clothes. Crimson red blood dyed his mouth and torso. Their side was exposed to show a skin that was unblemished where there should’ve been a fatal wound. A familiar wicked grin stretched across their face, but it dripped with malice and bloodstained teeth. Romeo’s heart hammered in his chest, as the blood drained from his face. It couldn’t be...

“Mer- Mercutio?”

Romeo flinched as two violet eyes met his. A deep rumble shook the city as, the once dead, Mercutio let out a humorless laugh. “Oh Tybalt,” Mercutio’s voice dripped with mock saccharine, his voice booming. The ever-present nature forcing them to listen. “Did you think that getting rid of me would be that easy? How naive. How mortal of you to think so.”

Mercutio glided gracefully along the streets toward the man who “ended” his life. “To strike me down in such a way. I wonder Tybalt, did you plan to mock me in such a way, I’m hurt.”

Mercutio made his way toward Tybalt, easily towering over his frozen figure. The purple tendrils delicately wrapped around the Capulet’s neck, lifting him up a couple of inches off the ground to meet his eyes.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to never enrage a child of the fae?”

Romeo couldn’t hear Tybalt strangled reply, but he could see the terror etched onto his face. Tears flooded his face as he stammered out what Romeo could only determine as apologies. Bile was building its way up Romeo’s throat. Romeo pushed it down with everything he had left. This wasn’t Mercutio. This couldn’t be their friend.

Tybalt’s hands made their way up to his neck as he tried to claw his neck free from the tendrils. The tendrils only tightened around his neck and Mercutio grinned. The Capulet kicked and clawed and squirmed. His face slowly losing its color. His lips turned blue.

Both Capulets and Montagues could do nothing but watch in horror as one of their own was being subjected to an excruciatingly painful death.

“Mercutio, stop it. You’re killing him!”

The tendrils withdrew. Tybalt fell to the ground, gasping to make up for lost air. A couple of Capulets attempted to flock to Tybalt, but Mercutio lifted a hand and a shockwave sent them slamming on the stone road. Mercutio’s eyes flickered from Tybalt to the man who had just spoken.

Romeo found his cousin standing next to him. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Benvolio ever getting up from the ground, but then again he was preoccupied with the scene that was being displayed in front of him. Benvolio was pale, there was dried blood all along his arms and legs. If Romeo didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that it was his cousin who committed the crime.

“Benvolio, always such a saint aren’t you?” Mercutio hissed.

Benvolio breath hitched. Legs shaking at the sound of his name from Mercutio’s voice. Benvolio closed his eyes. Evened his breath. And one foot in front of the other, he walked up to Mercutio.  

He swallowed thickly. “I’m not,” he rasped, reaching out for Mercutio’s hand, “but hasn’t there been enough bloodshed?”

Mercutio’s face softened for a split second. The smog thinning. But then he scowled, slapping away Benvolio’s hand. “And who’s fault is that?” Mercutio stretched out his arms to gesture to the scene before them. “Both your families’ senseless fighting brought how many people to the ends of their lives? How much blood was shed by both sides? How much blood was shed by people like me, with no stake in the godforsaken feud?” Mercutio screamed, his throat raw. “ And for what? Nobody knows how this goddamn feud even began! Yet you fight and you continue this cycle of violence for generations.”

“Mercutio,” Benvolio tried.

His purple eyes blazed with senseless rage. “My uncle is not the only one who will try to put an end to this feud, nor will he be the last. There was an abundant number of people who slaved to make an end to this feud, but I wonder why they even bothered to try. This is a hopeless cause. Animals, that’s what you have all become. Animals!”

Something inside of Benvolio snapped. “You’ve always been so goddamn arrogant!” Benvolio spat.

Mercutio froze. “Excuse me?”

“What do you plan to do? Execute your own twisted justice on the people of Verona? Don’t make me laugh.” Benvolio grabbed Mercutio by the collar of his shirt. “You speak of how many people have fought for the peace between our two families, but yet you have don’t nothing but fuel the fire between us. You start fights with the Capulets in the name of the Montagues but in honesty. You’re just itching for a fight, aren’t you? Tell me Mercutio how many fights have I tried to talk you out of, and how many of them have you fought anyways. It seems as if you’re the one who is continuing this cycle of violence.” The purple aura was nearly engulfing the two of them, restlessly thrashing out to stretch further out. The foreboding clouds struck bolts of lighting, streaking the sky with a touch of light. The thunder began to rumble louder and violently.

“I confess this feud has caused so much harm to the city that it was birth from, but this isn’t about that, isn’t it” Benvolio continued lowly, “Don’t you dare blame this on the feud when the only reason why you are throwing a tantrum like a child because a mortal was able to kill you.”

Mercutio roared in rage. He grabbed Benvolio’s wrists and ripped them off his collar. The ground around them began to shake under Mercutio command. Benvolio lost his balance and collapsed onto the floor. Mercutio’s eyes began to glow a deeper shade of purple as furious incantations escaped his lips. The sounds of the crashing thunder were near deafening. The smog thickened where Romeo couldn’t see a single thing except for the glowing figure of Mercutio, head hanging low.

“A plague o’ both your houses,” he whispered. He lifted his head up, eyes filled with tears.

“A plague o’ Both your houses!”

And with that, he was gone.

[go-bonkers-go-foolish]

ALL RIGHT LADS

so some of y’all may remember the story of the best production of Hamlet i’ve ever seen

well welcome to the sequel

the best production of romeo and juliet i’ve EVER seen

in my ENTIRE life

again. it’s gonna be a long one

so.

this production was also put on by my little brother’s middle school class

it was WILD

literally

the theme was the wild west

they have a spaghetti dinner beforehand so it was a literal spaghetti western

the kid who played romeo, the one i used to babysit, also played hamlet last year

the kid has a flair for the dramatic

he was the most dumbass romeo i’ve ever seen and it worked so well with the show

the girl playing juliet was new this year, and she was INCREDIBLE

she’s the quietest kid but she has such a stage presence??

she also has this lovely demeanor that made everything juliet said sound really earnest and sincere

she literally said the first three words of the balcony speech and my wig was GONE y’all, it was SO BEAUTIFUL

((during the balcony scene, she was standing at a podium and romeo was just straight up lying on the ground and it might have been the funniest thing i’ve ever seen))

((romeo did a lot of lying on the ground dramatically))

my friend who played nurse already has a southern accent, but her delivery was s e n d i n g m e 

she sounded like ye olde miley cyrus on crack

the kid playing benvolio was such a sweetie

i’ve known him since he was a baby and he just has the one brain cell but it is heart shaped and he is full of Love for Everything™

benvolio also just had the one brain cell

the kid playing friar lawrence apparently didn’t own a poncho or anything so he wore a burlap bag that someone cut a hole in

my little brother was tybalt and BOY lemme tell you

he had on this ridiculous poncho thing and a bandanna

he looked like a crackhead but he was actually really awesome???

especially considering he’s always like “oh, acting is your thing, blah blah blah”

oh, man, MERCUTIO

lemme tell y’all

the girl playing her had on a flannel and cowboy hat

also everyone kept saying “mercuRtio” and trying to be southern and it was hell on my ears but also hysterical

juliet had two moms and my soul ascended

they were both wearing flannels

the capulets said Gay Rights™

also in that one scene where they give Peter the invite list, they both left and peter just looks out at the audience and says in the most forlorn voice “i can’t read...........”

i was LOSING IT

paris was just??? not in the show??? honestly good riddance

nurse called romeo a dishrag and i was HOLLERING

romeo also had two moms!!!!

the montagues, coincidentally, also said Gay Rights™

this teeny gal was the prince and it was so funny, literally everyone onstage was like “oh shit the prince, he’s so scary and intimidating” and she’s like four foot nine and talked like a lil mouse

friar john had on the biggest, stupidest cowboy hat i’ve ever seen in my life and i was living for it

also.

HOLY SHIT.

DURING THE BALLROOM SCENE WHERE ROMEO AND JULIET MEET???

nurse goes “strike up the band” and FUCKING ‘OLD TOWN ROAD’ STARTS BLASTING FROM THE SPEAKERS

AT FIRST EVERYONE WAS JUST WALKING IN CIRCLES TO THE BEAT AND THEN HE GOES “I GOT THE HORSES IN THE BACK” AND ROMEO AND JULIET JUST STRAIGHT UP START S Q U A R E  D A N C I N G

i was on the goddamn GROUND y’all

tybalt said “you’ve yeed your last haw” to romeo during the fight scene

“you’re like one of those guys that puts his gun on the bar and goes ‘sure hope i never have to use this’ then two drinks in you pull it on the bartender for being slow” -mercutio, to benvolio

“if i fought like you i’d have some HIGH LIFE INSURANCE” -benvolio, in response

juliet had on the prettiest dress i was literally about to cry

when romeo got exiled and went to go see the friar, they yelled back and forth for a hot minute, then romeo just,,,,lay down on the ground and started crying and lemme tell you if that ain’t the MOOD OF THE CENTURY

the wedding scene consisted of the friar in a bucket hat going “ok let’s get you two married” and then they just left?????

when tybalt died he goes “aaaaaaaaaaagh” and just fell down onto his face and it was actually hilarious

also when mercutio got stabbed she just goes “AAAAAAAAAAGHHHH I’VE BEEN STABBED.,,,,,,,,it HURT,,,,,,,,” and then let benvolio’s scrawny ass drag her off and it was the most in-character death scene i’ve ever seen

when lord cap was like “hey maybe DON’T kill romeo at my party” Tybalt just went in the corner and stared at people for the rest of the scene and honestly i felt that

mercutio had on a cowboy hat, did i mention the cowboy hat yet

nurse had on thigh-high cowboy boots you guys

THIGH

HIGH

COWBOY

BOOTS

i don’t even know where she got them

literally everyone was wearing flannel, a stupid hat, or both

i still haven’t gotten over romeo and juliet having their first meeting

the most famous romance scene IN HISTORY

literally the dance that sets the whole damn plot in motion to goddamn Old Town Road

side note, nothing’s ever gonna be funnier that benvolio in that scene

he was leading some kind of weird conga line before the square dance started???

just aggressively stomping the ground to the beat with his hands on his hips 

“i’m gonna (S T O M P) my (S T O M P) to the (S T O M P) town (S TO M P), i’m gonna (S T O M P) riiiiiiiiide till i (S T O M P) no more”

juliet’s all “then let lips do what hands do, you kiss by the book, blah blah blah, give me my sin again” and fuckin’ billy ray’s in the background like “I G O T  T H E  H O R S E S  I N  T H E  B A C K”

i got a video and i’m going to watch it on a loop for two days

anyway so yeah that’s the best production of romeo and juliet i’ve ever seen**

thanks for reading lads

**live production. the dicaprio version is still the best version of all time and y’all can fight me on this

[salmon2245]

Rewrite the Stars

Romeo et Juliette fanfic

Paris/Benvolio, Romeo/Juliet, Mercutio&Tybalt mentioned in the background

The Greatest Show au

Characters based on R&J French musical 2018 China tour

Translated from Chinese. Apologize for any grammar mistakes cause I suck at it.

Feel free to ask me anything

1

    It all started with Juliet's unreasonable little wish.

    Tired of high-end restaurants, classical music concerts and art exhibitions in museums, Paris's fiancée decided to go to the eastside of the city for a popular circus show on her next date.

    Can you imagine? circus! Only Juliet dared to make such a request to him. Paris, the youngest son of the Escalus, being a play actor more like a hobby than a job. And the kind of performance that only high-class families can afford to enjoy. After his marriage with Miss Capulet, he will have to inherit the huge industry of his family as his real living method.

    Considering of his status as well as his own occupation, he naturally put himself and the circus on the opposite side. Even if the performance of the now more than famous Circus has been discussed all over the streets, he has never thought of stepping into that low-level entertainment site. However, lady first, since his fiancée made such a request, Paris has no reason to refuse. It was just an innocuous circus show, he thought, just a date as usual.

    He likes Juliet. Miss Capulet is as sweet, kind and clever as people say. He certainly appreciates such kind of girls, but what outsiders don't know is that Juliet is far from the virtuous wife they need who can be pushed around by her man. So Paris won't treat her like his wife-to-be. Juliet doesn't love him. Paris knew that very well. He didn't care about spending the rest of his life with such a perfect girl, but Juliet herself obviously is waiting for a gentleman who she is willingly to give up everything for.

    Before that, they will just allow their parents to match a couple who certainly don't fit together. Anyway, their lives are already trapped like this, and there is no other bird in the cage to accompany them.

2

    Juliet didn't like holding Paris's arm. Except where she had to do this. She prefers to drag Paris through the crowd, and often when Paris turned around, the girl is nowhere to see. When she appeared again, Juliet shoved the propaganda poster she had bought after the ticket into Paris's arms, pointed to the black silhouette with excitement and said, "Look, it’s the trapeze!"

    Paris frowned and flattened the ink-rich poster. He checked his shirt to make sure there isn’t any ink trace. He saw the two little men pointed by his fiancée's finger. "It must be interesting." Paris nodded in concurrence.

    It turns out more than just fun.

    When the two trapeze actors made their final appearances, Juliet squeezed his hands. Paris is incompatible with the noisy surroundings. He embarrassedly lowered his head and played with his pocket watch all the time. He lifted his head feeling the pain caused by Juliet on his hand, and right at that moment, he saw the most breathtaking scene that he had seen in his short life. A brown-haired boy hung upside down on a swing and flew towards him with a gentle and confident smile. When Paris thought he could reach him with a hand, he fell back and accelerated. He doesn't have wings, right? Or is he actually an angel with beautiful wings on his back, and Paris as a stupid mortal has no right to see the white feather? He knew the circus were all freaks, but this was different from what he imagined.

    "Who is that?" He asked.

    Juliet let go of his hand and pulled out a poster sheet that had been folded into a small piece. In the dim light of the auditorium, she was struggling to identify the small line below the picture.

    His fiancée told him: "It's Montague brothers."

3

    Juliet showed extraordinary enthusiasm for the circus in the east of the city. The following month, she took Paris to the circus performance three times, and made an excuse to leave when the third performance was about to end. She told Paris: "The housekeeper will come to pick me up, I’m sorry you have to go back alone, sir. Forgive me."

    Even though it was an engaged relationship, Juliet still called him sir of Mister but not his name. Well, Paris doesn't care. He figured out the names of the trapeze brothers at the ticket seller today, the one who flew to Paris is the older brother Benvolio. He wonders if it was a coincidence that he and Juliet always buy the seat close to the trapeze show every time.

    Paris found that he had already begun to appreciate this critic's farce. The surrounding audience was infected with this pure happiness, they exclaimed, laughed loudly, and even stood up and danced at the final climax! He had never seen such a scene in his own performance before, and this wonderful experience made him overwhelmed. The most important thing is that every time the flying boy swayed in front of his eyes, Paris's heart seemed to stop beating, he held his breath unconsciously, catching the flashing light in the maroon pupils.

    The show is over, Juliet probably has already gone back, and Paris walked out of the theater somewhat dreamily. The carriage he had hired would arrive later, he thought he would go to the park after show with Juliet as usual, and he was left alone with nothing to do but wait. He lit a cigarette, standing against the wall and couldn't help recalling the trapeze actor named Benvolio. Paris hasn’t figure out what was special about that boy, he was a circus actor, Paris’ worst counterpart. But he smiled so nicely that he seemed to be the most free bird in his flying posture. Paris couldn't see the chains on his body, and Paris himself had always been with them.

    "Mr. Escalus?"

    The lighted cigarette was dyed because he didn't get two sips, the burning feeling on his fingertips brings him back and he turned his head. The face that had been seen on the stage several times reached his eyes.

    Paris did not expect that the person who had just disturbed his mind would suddenly appear beside him. He hesitated before responding and asked him, "Do you know me?"

    Benvolio tilted his head and looked at him with a funny look, and asked, "Can anyone in this city not know you? The most famous young actor, you can be on the newspaper just because of your engagement!"

    "I'm not saying that I want to be in the newspaper like this," Paris shrugged a little helplessly. "You know; the reporters just don't want to let me go."

    "Yeah, what a big piece of cake you are!" Benvolio said and patted Paris's arm with the back of his hand. Wow, he mumbled that it was quite strong.

    Paris took out a new cigarette and handed it to Benvolio. He pushed back with a smile: "I don't smoke, besides the flying performance, the circus also needs me to sing."

    Paris didn't notice, Benvolio also participated in the collective song and dance performance of the circus, but there were too many people at that time, and he couldn't tell which voice belonged to him.

    He knew that singers have to protect their throats, feeling embarrassed, Paris took the cigarette back, thinking about it and saying, "Your performance ... is very interesting, although I can’t actually get it from a professional perspective. Proper words to describe ... "

    "Are you happy?" Benvolio interrupted him.

    "Well," Paris agreed, "yes. I believe I am. Happy."

    "This is what we hope to achieve, Mr. Escalus," the boy smiled at him again. "We are a circus, which just need everyone to be happy, happiness is the most important thing."

    "Call me Paris." He raised an eyebrow. Why do people like to call him Mister that much, it sounds a bit of distanced?

    "Well, then my name is Benvolio," Benvolio reached out to him, Paris shook his hand, and felt several rough cocoons in the acrobat's palm. "Next time you come to the circus, try to find my sound will you?"

    In fact, every time he came to the circus, he thought it would be the last time, at least he believed so. Moreover, Juliet left the scene early today. The girl might have finally lost interest in this circus thing, and he would never come see the circus alone. Even so, Paris nodded.

4

    Romeo removed his bandages that help to protect his hands and feet in their small dormitory. Banvolio pushed the door open. His brother was lying on the bed, holding the bandage, apparently thoughts lost in somewhere else. Benvolio tugged him on his shoulder. With a bounce, Romeo patted his chest in guilty conscience, and asked, pretending to be okay, "Where have you just been, brother?"

    Benvolio sat down next to Romeo's bed and slipped off his shoes. "I ran into a big bug at the exit of the theater, and just talked to him by the way."

    "Which big bug?"

    "Oh, you won’t believe me," Benvolio sneered. "The famous drama actor Paris Escalus, never seems to be the one who come for circus."

    Romeo's expression seemed like he has just crewed a fly, he swallowed hard and asked: "Is that Mr. Escalus who recently engaged?"

    "Yeah, what's the name of his fiancée ..." Benvolio helped Romeo remove the bandages and put them away, then turned around to arrange the clothes they left at the end of the bed, while racking his brain he remember, "Juliet or something, right? I don't remember the last name."

    Romeo's face was even more pale. He is lucky that Benvolio just turned his back on him at the moment, and quickly adjusted his emotions before his brother can find out.

    "I want to take a leave form rehearsal tomorrow," Romeo grabbed Benvolio's hand, "please help me to tell the boss."

    "Just take your break then, what are you so nervous about?" Benvolio looked at him confused. "Our performances during this season are all current projects, and you are already very skilled, I’m sure there won’t be any problems for one day off."

    Romeo dropped his shoulders with relief: "That's good."

    Benvolio thought about it and realized there was something wrong. He asked again, "What do you need the break for? It’s not like you have other things to do anyway."

    His brother blushed.

    "Oh," Benvolio went to slap Romeo's arm until he howled. "My little boy finally grows up, now he knows to go out with the girl and entertain himself."

    "It's a date! It's serious!" Romeo explained anxiously.

    "Date it is, whatever you say." Benvolio grinned and couldn't stop grinning. He reached out and rubbed Romeo's face, and he was still happy when his brother managed to punch his stomach.

5

    Before Paris realized, he bought another ticket for the circus show. For the price of a few coins, he comforted himself, watching 10,000 shows like this was nothing to him. Though he also knew that this was not about money at all.

    This time he still smoked against the corner of the theater after leaving, and Benvolio actually did appear like last time.

    "Did you hear me singing?" The flying boy hasn’t changed his costume off, just added a coat over it. Paris noticed that he was just a lean acrobat without scary large muscles, when wearing normal clothe he still looked a little thin.

    As Benvolio approached, Paris stopped his smoke.

    "No," Paris told the truth. "There are too many people, forgive me for not hearing so well."

    "And now I know that well-educated people do speak differently. Even this thing can be expressed as an apology for you," Benvolio joked. "It doesn't matter; I can sing again if you want."

    So Benvolio sang their curtain call song. Paris listened very carefully. After all, he felt depressed for not recognizing Benvolio’s voice before. He has listened to too many well-known singers. He has been invited to the Golden Hall of Vienna. The golden voices that are proud of various countries have cooperated or communicated with him, but no one sings like Benvolio.

    What magic does he have that makes people so happy? Even his expression of singing was cute, and Paris can’t stop smiling.

    On the way back, Paris couldn't help but feel tangled. Juliet didn't mention to him the circus anymore. It is likely that he would not have chance to come with his fiancée, but he still wanted to see the show. God, Paris, what’s the matter with you, he asked himself in his mind. This is a circus! You are the most promising drama actor, but let yourself indulge in this stupid joy, you let yourself corrupt, Paris, which is not a good thing.

    But ... think about Benvolio, think about this magic boy.

    Paris covered his face and suddenly realized that it wasn't just about professional dignity. Fuck, he fell in love with the flying boy.

    It doesn't matter, Juliet doesn't love you either. He comforts himself, but couldn’t feel better. Damn, hell, he really can't go to the circus anymore.

6

    The last time always becomes the past time.

    It wasn't until he pressed Benvolio to kiss him on the wall of the alley behind the theater that Paris realized that there would never be the last time. Benvolio felt as good as he imagined. Long-term acrobatic training gifts him the perfect figure, and apart from those tight muscles, there were always some soft places that could surprise him.

    "This is not the usual service I would offer," Benvolio paused after Paris let go of his lips, "but ... it makes you happy, right?"

    Paris nodded.

    "Well," Benvolio seemed to have made a very important decision, "keep going then."

    Although Benvolio did not seem to disagree, Paris refused to have sex in such an inconsiderate place. He took Benvolio back to his home. Juliet never came, she would only wait for him at home and have date in public places. They huddled on the king size bed where Paris always sleeps alone.

    The boy is not particularly experienced, but he is enthusiastic enough, his soft body can be put into various poses, and Paris just have extraordinary patience. Their bodies fit perfectly. Sex is generally happy. But when your sex partner is Benvolio, Paris thinks of the sleeping person in his arms, then this happiness will exceed imagination.

    The next morning, when Paris opened his eyes, Benvolio was looking at him with a smile he was already familiar with, and he said, "How much would you pay me?"

    And Paris woke up completely. He bounced, for a moment has no idea what to say: "I don't, this is not ... you ..."

    "Not what?" Benvolio also sat up. "Paris, you are already engaged. There will be a new mistress in this bed six months later."

    "I don't want to," Paris rubbed his sleepy hair. "I won't think of you as ..."

    "It's okay," Benvolio sighed. He climbed out of the bed, with the body full of marks they made last night, picked up his clothes and put them on one by one. "I know you're a good gentleman. You don't do such indecent things. At least give me some money for the carriage?"

    Paris gave Benvolio a soaring amount of unnecessary carriage money, and he watched the boy wave at him on the carriage: "Anyway, you are welcome to come and enjoy our show."

    He watched the carriage go further and further, and his heart sinks into somewhere deep undersea. Well, there can’t be pure joy in real world, welcome back to reality, Paris, you should wake up.

7

    He didn’t know how Romeo and his mysterious girlfriend is going. Sitting in the carriage heading east, Benvolio thought so. His body is still a bit sour. If Romeo has a "dating day" today, he can practice less without cooperating with him, which is a good thing. Benvolio just hope that Romeo doesn't fall in love with some rich young lady. Benvolio laughed out, his silly little brother, how can any rich young lady fancy him? However, it reminded him of Paris. No, Paris is different.

    Paris appears unlike what he should be at all, which annoyed Benvolio. If he was just an aristocratic master with only sperm in his head, it would be much easy to deal with. The problem is that not only is he not, but he even actually knows how to be general and kind. And probably, know how to love another soul. Benvolio finds out for the first time, that he may be unable to handle him.

    Benvolio, stop dreaming. He rubbed his arm. Who do you think Paris is? The promising young actor, the cover character of newspapers and magazines, with a fiancée who is in the perfect matched status. The only thing you can get from him is money, nothing more.

    This thought did not make him feel better. The gentle touch seemed to remain on his body. The skin he had been kissed on shoulder and neck still feels on fire at this moment. Benvolio sighed and leaned back into the seat. It's best that Romeo doesn't have a "dating day" today. He doesn't want to think about something he shouldn't think because he has too much spare time to waste.

8

    Before any of them came up with a solution to current situation, Mercutio makes his move. Paris was surprised to be visited by the head of the circus. He couldn't think of any reason to let the freak come to see him.

    "Oh, I'm feel my heart broken," Mercutio pouted. "Don't you remember me ... my dear nephew?"

    Nephew?

    The head of the circus is the one who ran away from the Escalus family?

    Paris didn't expect this. He only knew that there was a rebellious relative in his family. He had abandon his family name for a long time because of disagreement. It’s been years, and Paris barely had any impression of that guy. He only remembered that he had exaggerated black long curls and swagger through the street with no shame at all.

    Alright, Paris accepted that the head of the circus was his uncle who ran away from home. And his so called uncle is actually as young as him.

    "I'm here to offer you an opportunity," Mercutio looked at him confidently. "Look what a shit you live right now! Champagne, daydreams, messy parties ... Paris, we all come from the upper class, I bet you understand how boring and disgusting that circle is more than I do. I know you came to my circus, and you have been there several times. What do you think, interested? "

    He was right. Paris's life now is totally full of shit. He has a fiancée who doesn't love him and will never love him in the future. He has a job to please those peerages. He has a family property waiting to be taken over. He also has a little trapeze in his heart. Shit's fine. Definitely a huge bag of shit.

    "Join us, maybe you can make your life more miserable, who knows," Mercutio is really not a lobbyist, "but maybe you will get some happiness, happy is the product we yield."

    Paris took over the olive branch Mercutio offered, he became a member of the circus, he knows how to pack and promote, therefore the performance became more popular, he managed to attract more audiences, who sat below watching Benvolio flying in the air.

9

    Paris waited for Benvolio at the back door of the theater.

    He still went to bed with Benvolio, they also talked and did some causal things together. But Paris just couldn't talk about feelings in a serious way. After all, he didn't have the qualification. Fortunately, as long as he didn't bring it up, Benvolio won’t. He used to think that he would spent the rest of his life with Juliet. If the girl doesn’t like him, it’s fine. Given that they became married as the Escalus couple by name, it didn't matter what their real life is behind that reputation. He won’t mind Juliet falling in love with any other man, he was saying, this is the freedom she had, right? All they need is a paper confirmed engagement, a pair of rings, and they can continue their own lives afterwards.

    But now, he met Benvolio. Benvolio became the biggest change in life. The boy flew into his life and shone so bright that he failed to move away his eyes. Paris couldn't help thinking about what a whole different life he will live if having Benvolio by his side ... happiness, joyful, just like the best life in the world would be.

    The stage door of the theater was in an inconspicuous corner. There were no people passing by. A few of stinky trash cans standing in the night silently not far away. Paris walks as usual, and stood still, froze. He saw someone he never thought he would meet here.

    Juliet changed her usual luxurious dress and wrapped herself in a humble dark shawl. She waited there with a light smile, her blond hair fell out of her hood and hung on the girl's red fluttering face.

    "Juliet?" Paris tentatively called his fiancée's name.

    The girl was jumped by his voice. She saw Paris, and her face was completely bloodless. She opened her mouth for a long time without saying a word, and finally whispered to him: "Mr. Escalus."

    Paris could tell that Juliet was waiting for someone, she was holding a rose in her hand. He found it hidden under her shawl subconsciously. Well, Paris understood most of it. His lovely fiancée didn't lose interest in the circus, it’s just they are not appropriate to enjoy it together anymore. Like he said, Paris didn't mind this, he calmly asked: "Are you waiting for someone?"

    Seeing no sign of angry, Juliet gave her a sigh of relief and added: "the trapeze."

    Paris froze again. "Me too," he said.

    "Pardon?" Juliet looked at him puzzled.

    "The trapeze." Paris tried to smile at her.

    Well, things are getting awkward now. Paris recalled seeing the circus for the first time, and Juliet clenched his hands unconsciously at the beginning of the trapeze show. How likely is he and his fiancée to fell in love with the same person at the same time? There was the figure of Benvolio in his mind again, remembering that he smiled mildly and asked how much he could pay him ... his thoughts began to slide away in some unclear directions, and Paris clenched his fists. He did not want to speculate maliciously others, but, but. Even if Benvolio is Benvolio, he is still a low-ranking acrobat, how he grew up, if he will fall to his knees just to survive his life, and how much loyalty had left for people at the bottom of the society like him? Paris knew nothing.

    His fiancée looks no better than him. Paris didn't know if he should comfort him or not, poor girl.

    The door opened, and the two came out laughing and joking, then both stopped.

    "Romeo?" Juliet called Romeo's name carefully, as if asking for proof.

    Benvolio looked at his younger brother, Miss Capulet, who was still conspicuous even when dressed like this, and finally Paris.

   "Fuck," he groans, "fuck."

10

    Romeo and Juliet no longer have their love life underground.

    After the embarrassing showdown night at the back door of the theater, the little couple seemed to be finally freed from prison, and they started their sweet and bright dates. Romeo smiled even more often, and Benvolio didn’t know this can be possible for Romeo, who already wear a silly happy face most of the time.

    The boy writes poems, draws small greeting cards on his own, and picks up his old skill in childhood for handicrafts to make various gadgets for Juliet. Benvolio is wrapped in a quilt and shrunk on the bed to see his brother sitting on the floor ambitiously making gifts, with a slight headache . Romeo, like every young man out there who fell in love, went blind and hold his heart in his hands. Benvolio couldn't help worrying about him. It’s Juliet they are talking about, the well-known young lady who got the pure blue blood. The aristocratic stratum Romeo can never climb in all his life, let alone that she was half Step into the grave of marriage.

    "Romeo, you get yourself too involved," Benvolio frowned at him, "this is not a good thing."

    "I love her, she loves me," Romeo didn't look up. "I don't think there is anything wrong. You should see how happy Juliet is with me. She is my rose, my star. I will marry her someday. "

    He raised the newly folded paper rose to his brother, and with a dreamy sweet smile on his face, Benvolio was stabbed in his heart, he grabbed the flower: "She won't marry your."

    "Why not?" Romeo was a little angry. "You don't know her. You don't get to say what kind of girl she is. Give the flower back."

    "It’s true I don’t know her," Benvolio wrinkled the paper rose in his hands without knowing it. "But I know what her family name is, and I know she has a fiancé that you absolutely can't compete with. I know what is waiting for them at the end of the year. A church wedding. Romeo, she may love you, but she won't marry you, even if she wants. "

    "I'll ask her myself, you don't speak for Juliet," Romeo snatched the paper flowers back, carefully flattening the folds. "And Paris loves you, why should I compete with him?"

    "Paris doesn't love me," Benvolio retorted without thinking. "We are just business, not love."

    "How can you think so?" Romeo looked at him in shock. "He loves you, and I can see that, you are so cruel!"

    It's not cruel or ruthless. Benvolio sighed in his heart. He began to reflect on whether he had protected Romeo so well in the years when the two brothers depended on each other, now that he became like this—simply ridiculous, unreserved, and too easy to be broken.

    Take a thousand steps back, even if Juliet really loves Romeo, and take another thousand steps ... even if Paris really loves him, this is impossible. They are trapeze, even if they are stars in the circus, even if they bring people joy and laughter, they are still the lowest entertainment practitioners when walking on the street. The job of trapeze performance is for the young. They can’t make a live by that for a lifetime. What will happen after they can no longer fly? How can they struggle to afford a roof and bread? They don’t have a future to be looking for. Mercutio gave them this home, but Benvolio knows that the good time is mean to be end. Moreover, the two trapeze brothers and Paris or Juliet, they were originally from two separate worlds.

    "She'll marry me," Romeo waved his fist violently at Banvolio. "You wait and see."

11

    Paris and Juliet's engagement was like a fishbone stuck in Benvolio's throat. Now he not only has to find a way to deal with his feelings for Paris, but also spread half his mind to worry about his little fool-like brother.

    The Mr. Escalus was not satisfied with just having sex with him. He invited Benvolio to see his drama performances. He took Benvolio to dinner with so much folks and knives that he couldn't figure out how to use. At least the food was delicious, Benvolio thought. He watched Paris's performance on the stage. He is another kind of star. He raised his hands and pitched his feet in an elegant and decent manner. Sometimes, Benvolio couldn't understand what he was saying. They were all in a state of contemplation. He was sleepy, and felt that it was unreasonable to fall asleep in the Grand Theater. After several too obvious yawns, the gentleman sitting beside him shoots him a glare.

    Even though he was uncomfortable staying in such a place, Benvolio persisted until the end of the show. Paris ran over to him and asked with anticipation how he performed. Benvolio smiled awkwardly, saying, "You look great."

    "This script is probably too rigid," Paris scratched Benvolio's shoulder indifferently. "After becoming a partner of the circus, I increasingly feel that such a drama is not interesting at all, your performance is the best. I’d like to see the audience laugh. You are the professor. I have tried to learn your skill for a long time and yet still making no progress at all. "

    Benvolio hums absent-minded. He followed Paris and walked out, feeling tired and sleepy as hell, worried that he would not have the strength to deal with the bedroom thing later tonight.

    However, the carriage called by Paris did not drive back to the man’s house, but instead it returned Benvolio to the dormitory where the circus lived. When the carriage stopped, he was awakened by Paris, not knowing where he is for a second. Paris walked him to the gate. Benvolio asked why he didn't return to his home.

    "I didn't really expect that you would come to see my show today," Paris hugged him. "This is a wonderful date, thank you. You have to be on stage tomorrow. Take a good rest."

    Before he could react, Paris kissed him with his face in his hands, his fingers brushed through Benvolio’s soft brown hair. Benvolio watched him leave blankly, pushing open the door of his dormitory. Romeo was doing his daily stretch before going to bed, and shocked to see him wearing the emotionless face. He ran over to support him and asked worryingly, "what happened?"

    "He said, this is a wonderful date," said Benvolio.

    Romeo didn't know where the problem was, and he asked with confusion, "Yeah, haven't you had a good date?"

    "We're not dating," Benvolio wide his eyes, "Romeo, that's the problem. We're not dating."

    "God," Romeo frowned his hair, "Benvolio Montague, don't you understand what is happening right now? You love him, he loves you, it's that simple! Bro, not I said, can’t you live even a tiny bit happier? I got tired just by looking you struggling. "

    "I do not……"

    "Don't you try to quibble with me," Romeo interrupted. "Is it that hard to follow your heart? It's just a matter of simple admission that you love him."

    Benvolio thrust his palm into his eye socket. The farce should have stopped, otherwise no matter he or Paris, no one will be able to retreat. He didn't want to end up like that. Too good memories are poison for people like him, and Paris's life can't bear such a stain.

12

     Critical comments appeared in the newspaper, and more and more people gathered to resist the circus performance, no matter how they shouted freaks, bullshit or social maggots, Benvolio tried to calm things down, but failed every time. From time to time, wounds appeared on Romeo’s body. Benvolio knew that they were not caused by the training. His righteous young brother always fearlessly rushed to the front of the theater to argue and protest, never really pay attention to what Benvolio used to warn him. When Benvolio is warping his wounds, the boy who used to be loud and sorrowful didn't say a word, just gnashed his teeth and let the anger grows in his heart silently.

    There is nothing Benvolio can help, and all he could do was telling Romeo to make sure he protects himself. Because of the frequent conflicts, everyone in the troupe has recently got bruises and cuts on them. Benvolio went to purchase medicines, and finally gave his mind a little time to think about Paris.

    He refused several dates to Paris for the passing weeks. But being a formal member of the circus, Paris came to the show as usual. Benvolio had already remembered where Paris was always sitting. He flew in the prescribed direction and Paris reached out to him.

I must tell him, Benvolio thought. With only two months left between Paris and Juliet's wedding, Benvolio knows that the two have begun to prepare. Juliet had complained to Romeo that there are too many cakes to taste, and the wedding invitation has been sent all over the world.

They have to stop.

    He walked back with a pack of pills and saw ominous black smoke coming out of the street. Benvolio hurried with fear, their flaming theater gradually became clear in his eyes. His friends stumbled out of it, panting awkwardly, and Romeo stood outside holding the elephant dragged by him coughing. Benvolio grabbed his arm and shouted in a mess: "Where is Paris? Where is Paris!"

    "I didn't, I didn't see him," Romeo said intermittently, shaking his head. "Mercutio, said he came to discuss the loan today."

    Benvolio looked around in a panic, and Mercutio was outside, hands supporting on the animal trainer girl to keep her from tremble--Paris was not with him.

    "Romeo!" Juliet didn't know when she came over, the girl cried and rushed into Romeo's arms, and the two clasped together, starting to control the sobbing voice. "God, gosh, you're fine, you're alive. "

    Benvolio dropped his bag and stormed into the sea of ​​fire.

    "Benvolio, come back!" Mercutio cought sight of the boy running toward the theater, and was about to pull him out. The fragile door finally collapsed after it’s long struggle in the fire, "Benvolio! "

    Romeo stood up in shock. He glanced at Juliet. Tears and sweat are all over her cheeks, but she firmly grasped Romeo's hand and nodded. However, Mercutio held him down and shouted: "You stay here."

    Their boss wrapped himself in a soaked curtain, breaking in the building through the side window.

    

13

    The fire made Benvolio's familiar theater strange. He couldn't see the path clearly and could only fumble forward with his impressions. Collapsed prop structures everywhere now became his roadblock. The thick smoke ran into his throat and he couldn't breathe. He was hurt and felt a burning pain in his body, but he kept walking inside.

    The wooden beam fell and rubbed his shoulder, Benvolio hissed in pain. He was smashed to his knees and climbed up on the hot ground. He called Paris' name, but his voice was hoarse enough that can’t make a sound. Since Paris was here to find Mercutio, he should be in the studio on the second floor ... Benvolio quickly ran towards the stairs and was hugged from behind when he stepped onto the first step.

    "Benvolio!" It was Mercutio calling him, "Get out with me!"

    "Let me go ..." Benvolio tried his best to push away Mercutio's arms around his waist, but he couldn't shake it, "Paris ..."

    "Paris is not here. He's gone to the bank!" Mercutio carried him to his shoulders without further explaining, and Benvolio struggled restlessly. Mercutio shouted at him, "I won't lie to you!"

    Mercutio ran out with him and fell out of the window at the last moment of the theatre dump. He didn’t see it when in the firing theatre, but now his vision became clear. Benvolio's shoulder and neck were burnt with flesh and blood, he carefully lowered the person, and Benvolio tried hard to open his eyes. He saw a white figure running towards him. Paris knelt beside him. For a while, his didn’t know where to place his hands. He wanted to hold the boy in his arms, but he dared not touch him anywhere. Benvolio pinched and reach out to hold his fingers, the stone in Paris’ heart finally fall. Benvolio smiled at Paris and lost consciousness.

    The rescue team called by Mercutio had arrived. They carried Benvolio on the stretcher, and the wound was urgently bandaged. Scarlet blood was still seeping through the thick gauze. Paris followed the way and they rushed to the hospital. only was left outside the operating room. Romeo and Juliet were sitting with him. Juliet grabbed Paris's hand. Romeo's eyes were terribly red. He whispered: "My brother rushed in because he can’t find you outside anywhere... I can't stop him."

    Paris closed his mouth and took a deep breath, he didn't know what to say, damn it, Paris, you're a lucky bastard, what the fuck are you still struggling with? You know he just doesn't say it.

    "I shouldn't say that, but," Romeo paused. "He loves you."

    he knows. Paris lost his words under the huge impact. He couldn't speak, then Juliet turned and hugged him.

    Suddenly something coming to his head, Paris took Juliet's arm and asked her in a pleasurable tone: "Miss Juliet Capulet, I'm sorry, I beg you to cancel our engagement."

    "I will, I will," Juliet said with tears. "I'll tell my parents tomorrow."

    "No, you don't have to," Paris interrupted her. "It was me who broke the engagement, you didn't do anything, you know what I mean. You did nothing."

    Juliet knew she needs to play the role of a victim, and even if she didn't want Paris to take all the responsibility, the man didn't care about anything now. She nodded: "I understand."

    "Thank you." Romeo also took his hand.

14

    Benvolio fell into a long coma, during which he had many unreasonable dreams. However, these dreams had a strange similarity. His palms were always wrapped in something warm. He was unable to lift from the swing because of his weak arms. When he fell down, there would always be some invisible force grabbed him tightly to prevent him from falling, strong and eager.

    Until one day, the warm he feels disappeared, Benvolio fell to the floor of the stage, and woke up in severe pain. The nurse told him that during his unconscious days, someone came to see him every day, held his hand and said something bland. Benvolio opened his mouth and asked when he came, only to find his voice hoarse. He reached out to rub his itchy throat, accidentally touched a pothole in the side of his neck.

    That day he saw for the first time what he looks like now. The left shoulder and neck were covered with burn scars on his arm. He had recovered more after a few weeks of treatment, but still, he trembled in the mirror and touched it. He still felt the sharp pain of being licked by the fire. Which should be a psychological effect. The muscle was inevitably injured. At first, his left hand couldn’t even hold up a cup, in the future he can only recover to a normal life under rehabilitation training. Benvolio knew he couldn't return to the stage.

    He was already asleep when Paris came to see him later, but after he woke up, Paris never showed up again. Romeo came to see him and mentioned Paris, Benvolio just avoided the topic: "I don't want to talk about this."

    Benvolio had been in a coma for too long, weeks passing by, it was time for Paris and Juliet's wedding. He was probably so busy now that he didn't have much time to see himself ... not that Benvolio wanted him to come. He had better not come. It's better not to come now for everyone, not even Romeo.

    He didn't dare to look at himself now. After confirming with the doctor that he would not be infected, Benvolio covered himself with a high-necked coat and scarf. He decided to get discharged on a cold day, and predicted to leave alone, but ran into Mercutio who is waiting at the hospital door.

    When he was hospitalized, he read the newspaper and knew that the troupe had abandoned the reconstruction of the theater. They set up a tent. As usual, Mercutio quarreled with the critic named Tybalt on the media. They won’t get up on persuading each other.

    "The contract hasn't expired yet," said Mercutio, "I'm not about to fire you."

    When found by Mercutio, the desperate Montague brothers almost signed the longest contract allowed in their careers so they could play in the circus until their retirement.

    Benvolio shook his head: "I can't fly now, can't sing, can't move the props, what do you pay for my salary? I can't even sit in the ticket office ... people will be scared away."

    "In the beginning, everyone thought that others would be scared away by themselves," Mercutio laughed. "Isn't that why I start looking for all of you in the beginning?"

    "Everyone is waiting for you to come home."

15

    Benvolio finally determined to leave.

    He really didn't know what else he could do, and while there was still a little deposit, most of which was he saved from Paris's carriage money, he had the opportunity to start a new life elsewhere. He knows that no one has given up on him, he just, he just doesn't know how to face these familiar people, and Paris. Fortunately, Paris will not appear in the theater now.

    Romeo respected his decision, so there was nothing else to say. Benvolio said goodbye to everyone. He packed up his few luggage, bought the midnight train ticket, and received everyone's hug.

    Paris's residence was empty at the moment. Juliet knew that he had been taken away from his house by the elders of the family. Romeo ran on the wide street with Juliet. The girl stepped on Romeo's shoulder and climbed over the wall. Romeo was outside the wall. Anxiously waiting, Juliet picked up a stone and smashed it at Paris's window.

    Dissolution of the marriage was undoubtedly a scandal. The reason why there was no news yet was because Paris was under house arrest. He cheated, had an affair, deceived his fiancée, and broke the heart of a good girl. Juliet was at Capulet's house. That two lines of tears are the best proof. The Escalus insisted on keeping their marriage relationship. They came up the solution of keeping detain Paris before the wedding, and then forced him into the church until the raw rice was cooked.

    Paris opened the window, leaned forward and asked expectantly, "Has he been discharged?"

    "Benvolio is leaving!" Juliet jumped under the windowsill anxiously. "It's the train tonight!"

    Paris then noticed that Juliet was carrying a thin bundle of rope. The girl tried it several times, and finally threw the end with the heavy weight into Paris's room. Paris fixed it and flipped out of the window. He slipped too fast, wiped his palms with two bloodstains.

    The cloak with the big hood covered him with only one face exposed. Benvolio was sitting on the platform holding the box, and he kept looking up to see the clock in the hall. Passengers passed one by one, his tickets were tucked in his pockets and soaked with sweat. Benvolio couldn't tell what he was waiting for. Benvolio thought, maybe, just a little possible, that Paris would come to him. But it was Benvolio who chose not to tell him, how could Paris know? Even if he knew, he was about to get married in a week, this was probably a sensitive time.

    Benvolio waited quietly until his train enter the station, waited until he got on, and Paris didn't show up until his train set off. He had been out of the platform for a long time, with his luggage kept between his feet. He lowered his head to study the signature that everyone wrote to him, his nose started to feel sore. The circus no longer has its own theater. They are performing in tents. They will go to perform all over the world. They will meet again, Benvolio thought. He was worried what Romeo would become of after Juliet got married. How could his brother learn to accept the reality when his elder brother left him?

    There was a gentleman coming in this deck, it seemed that he had gone the wrong way before. From the perspective of Benvolio, he could only see one leg passing by him, and then stopped and sat down opposite him. He looked at the familiar white leather shoes, felt a stinging stab in his eyes, and turned to look out of the window. The reflection from the windowpane reflected the image of the person opposite him, it’s Paris waved to him in the window: "Hi, Peter Pan."

    Benvolio turned his head in shock, and Paris smiled at him.

    "I finally caught up with you."

16

    You may afraid that I will sacrifice other options for this choice. But I only want to give you the second half of my life.

    You are willing to do it for me, and I am willing to do it for you.

[fallinfor-youreyes]

Rosvolio for the “We’ve been communicating entirely by email/phone/carrier pigeon/paid messenger for the past year as we work to bring some peace and order to this troubled land” prompt please! (if you feel so inclined)

Full prompt: “We’ve been communicating entirely by email/phone/carrier pigeon/paid messenger for the past year as we work to bring some peace and order to this troubled land, so when I walked into the negotiation room to sit down with the fearsome and terrible politician/businessperson/famed warrior that all my people are so afraid of, I didn’t really expect it to be you.” This fic got away from me and became a monster, but I hope you enjoy it. Read it on Ao3!

The entire disaster startswith an email.

Shehas about a million emails a day — perks of being her aunt’ssecretary— but this one sticks out.

I’ma dumbass, please help.

It’spossibly the first subject line that has made her laugh ever, so sheopens it first, instead of one of the other million emails thatcurrently need her attention before her one o’clock meeting thisafternoon,

Igot your email from one of the organizers, but I missed theconference last week, and I was wondering if you had some notes. Mydumbass of a boss forgot that I wasn’t there, and didn’t take anynotes himself, and as you know, it was a really important meeting.Any information you could send my way would be a great help.

Ben

Rosalinerolls her eyes as she collects all of notes from the conference intoa folder, and attaches it to the email. She assumes it’s a poorintern or new hire, not even high enough on the totem pole to get anofficial email.

Don’tworry. You’re not a dumbass. Happens all the time. Let me know ifyou have any questions.

Ros

Shedeletes her official signature, as to not intimate the poor guy,expecting that to be the end of it and moves her way back intothe slog of other emails. She gets through about 10 more before hercomputer dings, and dumbass extraordinaire has responded to her.

Youare a lifesaver. Honestly. I owe you a drink at the next conference.

Ben

Rosalinestares at the email for a little longer than necessary. Most peoplejust see her as the secretary to the assembly woman, the note taker,the email answerer. No one ever really goes out of their way to wantto thank her.

Hercursor hovers over the reply button for a moment too long.

I’llhold you to it.

Ros

Thesecond she hits send, her aunts voice echoes through the hall, andRosaline tries her best to not smash her head into the desk.

Twomore years. Two more years until Livia is out of college, andRosaline can quit being her aunt’s secretary. Two more years untilshe doesn’t have to answer emails, and take notes, and makes up allof the plans and proposals, and basically be running the entireCapulet side of Verona by herself.

Twomore years.

Andthen she can leave.

He’sabsentmindedly going through all of his personal emails when it popsup.

Soabout that drink…

Hehad almost completely forgotten about his hungover escapade intoattempting to be fired, which only led to his Uncle’s threateningto take away his wages and have him arrested for embezzlement.

Benvolioknew better than underestimate his uncle, so he fell back in line,and tracked down someone who could get him what he needed.

Whichled him to the apparent ‘best note taker in all of Veronapolitics’. In his attempt to get back onto his uncles good side,Benvolio had only found her email, completely forgotten her name, andforgot the password to his official email account, leaving her witheven less information about him.

Thefact that she even emails him back is astounding.

Hernotes are clear and impeccable, and quite literally saved his life.He might not know exactly who she is, but he’s pretty sure shecould take over the world.

Heclicks open the email, half expecting half hoping that she’s goingto cash in on his offer from a few weeks ago.

Fromone dumbass to another, are you at the conference this weekend? Andif you are, could you share your notes? Something came up with myboss, but I know this conference is really important, so anything youhave will be amazing.

Ros

Theslightest bit of disappointment runs through him, but he pushes itaway, and instead focuses on the more important things going on.

Ican guarantee they will not be as good as yours, but yeah, once Iclean them up I’ll send them your way.

Hepauses a moment, thinking. It wouldn’t hurt to have the number ofthe best note taker in all of Verona. It would probably be a goodthing, in all honesty.

Here’smy number in case you have any questions.

Ben

Hepockets his phone and straightens himself out when he hears thefootsteps coming down the hall.

“Benvolio.”His uncle says, eyes sharp and calculating. “This is AmbassadorRyan. He’s very important in the plans we have coming up withVerona.”

Theman studies Benvolio through cold, blue eyes. He’s used to this. Tobeing questioned by his uncle’s people, to being studied, andwatched.

“I’veheard a lot about you, Mr. Montague,” the ambassador says.

“Allgood things, I hope.”

Hisuncle flashes him a warning look, but the ambassador just swallowshard.

“Thatyou are even more ruthless than your uncle here.”

Benvolioducks his head and tries not to smile. People don’t tend to likehim because he’s quiet. Because he watches them back.

“Justtrying to do what is best for Verona,” he says. His uncle claps hisback, and it takes all of his willpower not to jump.

Hecan get through this. He has to.

Hehas no other choice.

Sheputs him as dumbass in her phone.

Rosalineis in Milan, at a fashion show that her aunt deemed more importantthan the conference. Because apparently, maintain a foreign relationby going to a fashion show is more important than keeping Verona fromfalling apart.

Heraunt is off schmoozing someone and she decided that she could handleit by herself, so Rosaline is sitting alone, at the hotel bar, andfor some reason, she pulls out her hone and stares at his contactinformation.

Shethinks it’s because he’s the first person who’s made her laughin a few weeks, or she just wants to talk to someone who doesn’tknow anything about her, or maybe the Italian wine is just going toher head, but she clicks on her number and types out the message.

Sowhat exactly did you do that qualifies you as a dumbass?

Benvoliostares at the message, making sure it is actually from the number ofthe best note taker in the all of Verona.

Hetakes another sip of his drink, drums his fingers on the table, andcontemplates.

Hecould tell her the truth. About how he got drunk enough to forget himown name, and slept through his flight, too hungover to call hisuncle and tell him he quit.

Orhe could lie. Say he got sick or lost his passport, or simply wrotethe wrong date in his schedule.

Benvolioorders another drink.

Wasdoing my best to get fired?

Whatchanged?

Gotmy priorities straight.

Forsome reason they don’t stop talking. They somehow never are at thesame conference or meeting or debate at the same time, so they tradenotes back and forth over email, and then they text. It starts off astypically work related things, but eventually, they start todissolve.

“Whatare you smiling at?” Livia asks, jumping up onto the kitchencounter.

“Nothing.”Rosaline stuffs her phone in her pocket, and continues to stir thepasta. Livia’s eyes narrow at her, but Rosaline ignores her. She’shad lots of practice.

Herphone buzzes, and Livia jumps off the counter, skillfully slipping itfrom her pocket before Rosaline can stop her. She’s had lots ofpractice too.

“Who’sDumbass?”

“Livia,”Rosaline groans, attempting to grab her phone back, but Livia dancesout of reach.

“Sothen Merc trips up the last step and right into Romeo, who drops thebottle that we had literally spent all day trying to get, and that’show our night ended. Sitting on the roof of our high school,completely sober like a bunch of idiots.” Livia’s face softens abit as she reads. “Sounds sweet.”

“Giveit back.” Rosaline elbows her in the gut in an attempt to get herphone, but Livia is quick.

“Whoare they?”

“He’snobody!”

Liviapauses, jaw dropping. “He? Doesn’t sound like a nobody.”

“Heis. I promise.”

“Whyis he called dumbass in your phone?”

Rosalinereaches out again, hoping she’s too distracted looking at thephone. She’s able to get hand on it, but Livia pulls back and thensome how, the screen changes, and the phone is ringing, and Rosalinedrops it.

Liviacatches the phone just before it collides with the floor, and a voiceechoes from the inside.

“Hello?”

There’sglee written all over Livia’s face, and Rosaline dives for it,easily taking it out of her sisters hands.

“Hi.”

“Ros?”The voice at the end says, and he’s only spoken two words, but shelikes his voice. She likes his voice a whole lot.

“Yeah.Yeah, sorry my sister thinks she’s funny. I didn’t mean to botheryou,” Rosaline says, slipping out of the kitchen.

“You’renot bothering me,” he says. He must notice he says it too fast,because he quickly tacks on, “What are you up to?”

“Iwas making dinner. What about you?” Rosaline lets herself collapseonto the couch, swinging her legs over the arm rest.

“Readingover the latest agreement.”

“Thislate?”

“Worksnever done is it?” He sighs, and she thinks it sounds like he’ssettling into a chair or something, but she can’t be sure.

“Whichparts are you reviewing?”

“Thecompromise settlement. Even though it will never go through.”

“Ican walk you through it,” Rosaline offers. She slips up before sherealizes what she’s said. They have an anonymity about this. Shedoesn’t know who he works for, and her email doesn’t include herexact position or what office she is apart of.

“You’reworking on the compromise acts as well?” Ben asks.

“Yeah.I wrote part of act 5 in the latest attempt.”

Bencoughs likes he’s choking on something. “Jesus, you’re not oneof the administration, are you?”

“No,”Rosaline says, unable to stop the laughter in her voice. “Just asecretary.”

“Whowrites the bills?”

“It’sa complicated arrangement.” Rosaline twists herself on the couchuntil she can pulls her legs up to her chest. “You’re notadministration, are you?”

“Noway. Official title is aide, but I like to call it personal servant.”

“Whydon’t you leave?”

There’sa pause at the other end of the line, and she feels like she can hearhim thinking.

“It’sa complicated arrangement.” He repeats her words back to her, andfor stupid reason, it fills her with warmth.

“Soyou don’t think they will work? Th new accords?” Rosaline asks.

“Probablynot. Both sides are asking too much, and neither will give in. Theywon’t compromise for the compromise.”

“Hmm.”Rosaline switches the phone to speaker, and pulls up the compromiseon her phone.

“What?”Ben asks.

“Whatif we tried.”

“Whatdo you mean?”

“Justme and you. The aide and the secretary. I write most of my bossessections, and you probably have some information that could beuseful. They’ve been trying to reach a compromise for over a yearnow. Maybe we can try something different.” It’s a crazy idea.Rosaline knows that. But she also knows that if nothing is doneVerona will tear itself to the ground, and as much as she wants toleave, Verona is her home.

“Okay.I mean the worst that can happen is we can get fired.” Benvolioagrees.

“Exactly.”Rosaline brings the phone back up to her ear. “I’ll email youabout it. Once I find some time.”

“Yeah.Yeah, that sounds good.”

There’sa pause of silence, but it’s comfortable. She finds herself smilingfor no good reason.

“Ros?”He says, after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“I’mglad your sister accidentally called me.”

Thesmile on her face grows a stupid amount. “Yeah. Me too.”

Benvoliostares at his phone for a little longer than necessary after shehangs up. He still has about 20 pages of the accords to read beforetomorrow, and needs to type up the main points for his uncle, butthere’s something about the best note taker in the Verona that hecan’t tie down.

They’veonly known each other for a few weeks, and he knows approximatelythree things about her, but he liked talking to her. He enjoyedtalking to her, about work of all things.

Andnow they are going to try and save Verona together. Because he likedtalking to her.

Hisphone buzzes in his hand and he jumps almost dropping it, before hesees Mercutio texted the group chat about a party on Saturday, andthat if Benvolio didn’t come, he was going to revoke his friendshipcard.

Benvoliotexts them back, telling them he’ll keep them updated. Before helocks his phone, he flicks back to her contact information, andbefore he chickens out, he types out a message and sends it.

Heturns his phone off before she can answer back, and focuses on thetask at hand.

Youcan call me anytime you want.

Theywork surprisingly well together. Over the next week they not onlystart discussing a plan to finish the compromise, but they also fallinto a routine.

Hetexts her sometimes, first thing in the morning while he’s waitingonline for his coffee. Most of the time it’s stupid things like astupid quote he saw on a calendar, or a picture of a dog he sees onhis walk. One morning, he asks texts her good morning, and asks whather her coffee order.

Why?

Whenwe finally meet I’m taking you out for coffee. Or drinks. You canpick your poison.

Shetexts him back a picture of her iced vanilla coffee and an eye rollemoji, and for the rest of the day, he can’t stop smiling.

He’stexting her about some of the ideas for the compromise when he walksinto the party that Mercutio told him about, hitting send just asRomeo crashes into him with way too much energy for how late it is.

“Iswear to god, I haven’t seen you in six months.”

Benvolioshrugs his cousin off, only to be attacked by Mercutio a secondlater.

“Guys,it’s been 3 weeks. Tops,” He says, making his way over to grab adrink before they can fight him on it.

“No,”Mercutio shakes his head and pulls out his phone. “This photo wastaken 2 months ago. That was the last time we saw you.”

Benvoliotakes a sip of his drink and glances at the photo. He knows they areright, but he refuses to give them the satisfaction. “It’s beenbusy at work.”

Aflash of concern crossed Romeo’s face, but it’s gone in aninstant when he sees someone walk through the door. “I’ll beright back!”

Benvolio’sphone buzzes at that exact moment, so he turns away from his friendsand can’t stop the smile on his face when he sees her name.

Mycousin is literally going to be the death of me.

Canwe pick up the compromise tmm? I refuse to work past 9 on Saturdays.

Course.I’m out anyway.

Shedoesn’t text him back explaining the cousin thing, and it hits himthat she probably thinks he doesn’t want to talk to her anymore,which the exact opposite of what he wanted, so he pulls his phoneback out just as Romeo comes back, this time, a beautiful girl on hisarm.

Whathappened with your cousin?

“Guys,this is Jules.” Romeo says, almost bouncing with energy.

Mercutiosimply raises an eyebrow at them over his drink.

“She’smy girlfriend.”

Julesblushes and hides her face in his shoulder.

“Ben,”Benvolio says, offering her his hand.

“Juliet.”She gives him a dazzling smile before turning to Mercutio.

“Ofthe Capulet variety, right?” Mercutio asks, dropping a kiss to herknuckles.

Thesmile drops from her face and she turns to Romeo,  and Benvolio ispretty sure he can see some fear in her eyes.

“Theyknow?”

“Ididn’t—“

“Iam a Prince, my dear. It’s part of my parameters that I know who’swho, and knowing the sole heir of the Capulet’s is basically at thetop of that list.” Mercutio says. “Would you like a drink, love?”

Julietrelaxes just slightly.

Benvolioglares at his cousin when her back is turned, prepared to talk somesense into him later.

Shemakes bad dating choices. And then I have to clean up the mess.

Tellme about it. Pretty sure my cousin is using his girlfriend to rebelagainst his dad.

Mercutio’schin digs into Benvolio’s shoulder, and he locks his phone as fastas he can.

“Whoya talking to Benny Boy?”

“Noone.”

“Mhmm.”Mercutio pokes him in the stomach hard enough to almost make himspill his drink. “Been busy at work? Or been busy with a newromantic prospect.”

“Youknow you would be the first to know, Merc.”

“Whatdo you think about them?” Mercutio says, slinging an arm aroundBenvolio’s shoulder.

Romeois whispering something to Juliet and she’s laughing, leaning intohim, a giant smile on Romeo’s face.

“Ithink it’s a recipe for trouble.”

“Wealways knew that Romeo would end up in it eventually, hanging out thelikes of us.”

Benvoliotakes a sip of his drink, and tries to ignore his phone buzz in hispocket. “I’ll talk to him about it later.”

Mercutiopats his head, and steals the rest of his drink. “Until then, letshave some fun shall we.”

Ohyoung love. I remember having time for that.

“Hello?”

Sheanswers on the first ring, and for some reason it makes the entireworld stop shaking.

“Iseverything okay? It’s 3 in the morning.”

Sheshould be asleep, but her aunt called her 4 hours ago about a problemwith an upcoming meeting that needed to be fixed asap.

“Isit lame if I say I missed your voice?” He sounds groggy, like hejust work up, or hasn’t even gotten to bed yet.

Shegiggles, light and beautiful, and he doesn’t even know what shelooks like but he might be half in love with her.

“No,”she sighs, but she sound content. “No, it’s not lame as all.”

Theyare silent for a beat, and he can hear papers ruffling across thephone.

“Iseverything okay?” She asks again.

“Yeah,it’s just…”

He’sdrunk. And his hands have been shaking for the last hour, and all hewants to quit his job and leave Verona, and never return, but there’sthings he needs to do. Like make sure Romeo is safe, and finish thiscompromise, and maybe, finally, meet her.

He’ssilent for long time, like he’s thinking of the right words. Shelets him think, just listening to him breathe and imagining what helooks like, all the way across the phone.

“It’sbeen a tough week. And I’m a dumbass,” he finally says. There’san edge to his voice that she can’t place.

“Samereason as last time?”

“Ihaven’t missed work yet, so no. But close.” He sighs, and she’spretty sure she can hear his head thump against something.

“God,”he groans. “I’ve really missed your voice.”

Rosalinepulls her legs up to her and chest and rests her head on her knees.

“What’syour coffee order?” She asks, because she never goes his.

“CaramelMacchiato.”

“Nowthat’s lame,” she says, laughing at him,

“No,it’s not. It’s delicious.” He’s automatically on the defense,trained by years of Romeo and Mercutio’s teasing.

“Iguess I’ll have to try it then. When you take me out for thatcoffee.” She says it so easily that it almost takes him off guard.

Forthe first time in almost his entire career, he’s looking forward tothe next meeting.

“Yeah.When we get that coffee.”

“Areyou sure everything is alright?”

“Yeah.I’m good.” Better now, he wants to say, but it’s late, and he’sdrunk, and it might not be for the best.

“Good.”

Theyhang up only a few moments later, and Rosaline drops her head to herdesk. She really cannot wait for that coffee.

Chancesof you being at the Midlands conference?

Beingsent back to Milan that day.

Boardmeeting on the 10th?

Requiredto be two states away for a speech.

It’slike the universe it working against us, Ros.

I’mmissing the meetings for the next three weeks after that. Campaignduties.

Well.Seems like we won’t be able to get that coffee until the nextcompromise conference.

28days.

Isit lame if I say I’m counting the minutes.

Very.

ButI like lame.

“Ohno,” Guiliana says, collapsing dramatically into her desk chair, aweek before the next compromise conference.  It’s the first she’sbeen in before 10 in the last month so it much be pretty important.

“What’swrong?” Rosaline asks, pulling out the stress relief tea that shesaved for special occasions.

“TheMontague’s. They are bringing along their aide to the compromise.”Guiliana accepts the tea, and clicks her nails along the desk. “It’ssaid he’s even more terrible than his uncle.”

“Isthat even possible?”

Guiliananods. “How are the proposals coming along. They need to be perfectif that monster is dragging along his beast. I’ll need your noteson it by Friday. “

Rosalinesnags one of the stress teas for herself. She had been working on theproposal with Ben for the last few weeks, casually flirting inbetween emails and late night conversations.

Theydefinitely aren’t dating, but this is the closest thing she’s hadto a relationship since her last breakup over two years ago. And shelikes him. Likes him way more than she should.

Butthey work well together. And for the first time, Rosaline feels likethe compromise might actually work.

“Ihave some notes now. About the new voting zones, if you wanted todiscuss them.” Rosaline offers.

“Isaid Friday, Rosaline,” Guiliana snaps. She waves her hand toindicate that she is done with her, and Rosaline steals anotherpacket of tea for good measure.

Justa few more years, she tells herself.

Justa few more years.

willyou be my alibi for when I set my boss’s office on fire?

Course.I’ll even help you if you want.

“Wait?The Montague aide is coming?” Isabella asks, almost choking on herwine.

“Whyis everyone reacting like that?” Rosaline says, refillingIsabella’s glass.

“Because,I mean, he’s literally found problems even in the most perfectproposals. And he’s quiet. But like, pretty sure he knows all ofyour secrets. He just watches you.” Isabella shivers. “I’veonly met him once, but he’s scary.”

Helenatips her head back on the couch. “I’ve heard he isn’t all thatbad. You just feel like he is studying you. And he only speaks to hisuncle.”

“It’sunnerving.” Isabella protests. She settles on the couch next to hergirlfriend, and takes a sip of her wine. “But enough talk about theconference. Tell us about phone boy,” Isabella says, her eyessparkling.

“Youmean dumbass?’ Livia says, dropping her book bag at the door andkicking off her shoes.

“Whosedumbass?” Juliet asks, following Livia into the living room.

“He’sjust a guy.” Rosaline says, glad that no one can see her blush.

“Howcome I haven’t heard of him?” Juliet asks, pouring two moreglasses of wine, and passing one to Livia.

“Becauseyou’ve been too busy dating a Montague for the past few months.”Rosaline shoots back.

“Fair.”Juliet tips her glass, and settles on the floor. “What’s his realname?”

“Ben.”Isabella supplies before Rosaline can answer. “And she’s meetinghim at the conference on Tuesday.”

“Shutup,” Rosaline says, stuffing her face into a pillow.

“Oh,”Juliet says. “Ohhhhh.”

“Yep.”Livia pokes Rosaline in the knee. “Are you excited?”

“I’mnot taking about this.”

Helenastarts to laugh, and then the entire room is laughing, and Rosalinethrows a handful of popcorn in their general directions.

Herphone buzzes, and her cheeks flush even more.

WouldI be getting my hopes up if I asked you to dinner after our coffee?

“Betchathat’s him,” Isabella says.

“She’sblushing,” Livia says.

“Shutup.”

Goingto be running late today. Boss had some mishaps this morning. Getcoffee after?

Benvolioreads over the text again, and his stomach drops. He was hoping theycould meet before the meeting, before the craziness, beforeeverything possibly went to shit.

Yeah.That works for me. Hope everything is okay.

Yeah.Just typical boss problems.

Hisuncle claps a hand on his shoulder, and Benvolio almost drops hisphone.

“Areyou ready, nephew?”

“Yes,”Benvolio says, trying not to grind his teeth.

“TheCapulet’s are running late, so we should have at least a little bitof pull for our side today.” Damiano slips down the hall, andsomething in Benvolio’s heart snaps.

Capulet’s.

Runninglate.

Justhis luck. The girl he’s halfway in love with is most likely amember of his families worst enemy.

Hecan already hear Mercutio laughing at him

Shesneaks into the conference room at the last second before the meetingstarts, settling into her typical seat on the outskirts of the room,computer at the ready for notes.

But she’s not looking at hercomputer. She looking around the room, hoping to stumble across thename tag for a Benjamin or a Ben. It’s childish of her, but shewants to find him before he finds her.

Peopleare still chatting quietly with each other, so she takes her timescanning the names, the anticipation making her heart beat a littlebit too fast.

Hereyes fall upon the Montagues’ and she takes a moment from lookingfor Ben to investigate the apparently terrible aide. There’sDamiano Montague who she knows very well, and her eyes fall to thenext name tag.

BenvolioMontague.

Rosaline let’s her eyesslide up to the man’s face, but he’s already looking at her.

He’s attractive. The kind ofattractive that is almost dangerous. Everyone had told her he wasdangerous,  a beast in his own right.

But something about him makesher want to trust him.

His features melt into a smallsmile, and he raises his hand in greeting.

And that’s when it hits her.

Ben.

Benvolio.

As in Montague.

All of the excitement meltsinto stress.

Of course she wouldaccidentally fall in love with the one person she could never have.

She could see her friendslaughing at her already.

Surprisingly, the compromisegoes over well. The Montague’s get the church and the surroundingareas that they had been after for years, and in return, theCapulet’s get the university. The opposing sides all agree, and anofficial signing date is decided.

It worked. Their compromiseworked.

And no one would ever know itwas them.

Rosaline can understand whyeveryone was afraid of the Montague aid. He had watchful eyes, and attimes, it looked like he see right through people. He was alwaysscribbling furiously, and when he spoke to his uncle, the entire roomheld their breath.

But, she also knew him. Andshe knew that he wanted this compromise as bad as she did.

She’s walking out of theconference room, when someone grabs her arm, and before she knows it,she’s being swept into one of the smaller waiting rooms.

And he’s there.

Ben.

Benvolio Montague.

The man she is supposed tohate, and fear, and never, ever trust.

But all she wants to do iskiss him.

“Hi,” she says, trying tocontain the smile on her face.

“Hi.”

She’s beautiful. Even morebeautiful close up.

Ros.

Rosaline.

Of the Capulet variety.

He honestly should have seenit coming, retribution for the way he talked to Romeo about Juliet.

“You’re not at scary aseveryone thinks you are, you know.” Rosaline Capulet is smiling athim. She has mischief in her eyes, and a proud smile on her lips, andgod, if he wasn’t already half in love with her, he’s pretty surethis could send him over the edge.

“I never claimed to be.”

“I think it’s because younever smile.”

She’s teasing him. They’vebeen talking long enough for him to know that.

“Maybe I had nothing tosmile at.” He says. He takes a step toward, like there’s agravitational pull leading him straight to her side.

She’s hugging her laptop toher chest, and she ducks her head, hiding her own smile from him.“You smiled at me.”

She doesn’t know what toexpect. He’s too far away from her for her to touch him, but whenshe glances back up, he’s closer to her.

“I did.” The edges of hislips quirk up, and Rosaline shakes her head at him.

He’s ridiculous. And aflirt. And she’s really, really attracted to him.

“You know,” she says,placing her laptop down on one of the desk, before making her own wayto be closer to him. “I didn’t expect one of the most ruthlessmen in all of Verona Politics to be you.”

Benvolio scoffs, and she’spretty sure she sees him retract into himself slightly. “Why,because the Montague’s are such outstanding people?”

There’s a poison in hisvoice, one she’s heard before when he talked about his ‘boss’,who she now realizes in his uncle. There’s a hatred there, a stripof exposed wiring, a wound full of salt.

“No.” She shakes her head,and takes the last few steps until she’s close enough that if shewanted she could reach out and touch his arm. “I meant, I didn’texpect the guy who sent me the only email heading that has ever mademe laugh, the guy who I had spent the last three months trying tosave Verona  with, the guy who would call me at three in the morningto tell me he missed my voice, to also be considered dangerous andruthless, and all around terrible. Because that is not the man Iknow.” She stops, right in front of him, gently grabbing his jaw tomake him look at her. “That is not the man I saw in there. That isnot the man I am seriously thinking about kissing right now.”

He’s pretty sure he hasforgotten how to breathe.

It’s one of the first thingshe learned how to do, so he’s not sure how she’s managed to makehim forget, but he has.

She wants to kiss him. And hevery desperately wants to kiss her back.

But, he’s forgotten how tobreath, and his brain is not functioning at full capacity.

“I like your voice evenbetter in person.” It’s not his most eloquent moment, but herface lights up, and he suddenly remembers how to be a person, andslips his hand around her waist so he can tug her closer.

“So how about that coffee?”He asks, his other hand sliding around the curve of jaw.

“Would it be terrible of meto say lets skip the coffee and go straight to dinner? The only thingI’ve had to eat today was half a day old croissant.”

“No. Dinner sounds good.”He’s smiling at her when her hands slide over his shoulders, andthen the next thing he knows, her lips find his, and he forgetseverything expect her name.

Ros.

Rosaline.

Of the Capulet variety.

His heart may or may not skipright out of his chest.

“Wait, that’sdumbass?”Juliet all but screams, grabbing Rosaline’s arm in theprocess. “Benvolio Montague?”

Rosaline attempts to detachher cousin from her arm, while Isabella stares at at said dumbassacross the bar, who is telling his collective group of friends abouther.

Livia has her ‘I-knew-it’smile on her face, and Helena is trying her best to not look smug.

“After all the shit you gaveme about Romeo, and you have been secretly dating your own Montaguefor months!” Juliet says, loud enough that the Benvolio glances upat them.

“Jules, calm down,”Rosaline pleads. “We haven’t been dating for months. It’s onlybeen like a week.”

Juliet scoffs, and evenIsabella can’t stop her laugh.

“Pretty your phone historywould go against that statement, Rosaline,” Isabella says.

“Shut up.” Rosaline pullsher drink closer, and glares at her friends.

“Can I take credit for this?I mean, I’m the reason you guys started talking.” Livia says,hooking her chin over her sisters shoulder.

“No.”

Benvolio glances at themagain, and this time he catches her eye and smiles. She instantlysmiles back, and her friends collectively start to laugh.

But she ignores them.

Benvolio mouths, ‘all good?’at her and she nods, causing his smile to grow. She watches at hepats Romeo on the shoulder, and then before she knows it, he’s oftheir side of the bar, wrapping his arms around her and burying hishead into her neck.

“Hi.” He says, lipsbrushing over her skin.

“Hi.”

Someone groans and makes acomment about PDA, but Rosaline ignores them. All of them are guiltyof the same thing, so they don’t have a say.

“Would it be lame if I saidI missed you.” Benvolio mumbles, wrapping his arms tighter aroundher.

“Yes. But I missed you too.”

She feels him smile againsther skin, and then, he’s twirling her around and his lips are onhers, and everything falls into place.

They both still have terriblejobs and even worse families, but they have each other. And plans tochange things, and great friends, and a Verona that might justsurvive because of their compromise, and each other.

He pulls back and rests hisforehead against hers.

He’s a self-proclaimeddumbass and a regretful Montague, and much better man than he giveshimself credit for, and he’s all hers.

All because of an email.

She wouldn’t have it anyother way.

[aelixandra]

Dreaming On Your Feet: Chapter 30

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Aelin Galathynius is one of the newest company members of the Rifthold Ballet Theatre, and she is eager to make all of her dreams a reality. She has the talent, the ambition, the walls no one can get past, and the thick skin that no one can get under. Except for new principal dancer Rowan Whitethorn. He’s arrogant, talented, and infuriating - and they just might have more in common than they think.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Chapter 30: Between the Lines

Twenty minutes.

That was all the time Rowan had between Act One and Act Two – and he knew just what to do with it.

He needed to write.

With great reluctance, he tore himself away from Juliet’s – no, Aelin’s – balcony and ran upstairs to his dressing room.

He pulled his white, flowing shirt off over his head, quickly hanging it back up on the wardrobe rack. He picked his backpack up and set it on his chair, rummaging through it and tossing irrelevant things aside.

“Come on, I know it was in here yesterday,” he muttered to himself, taking his sweatshirt out of the bag next –

Thud.

He looked down at his feet to see exactly what he was looking for.

His journal.

Rowan bent to pick it up. As he opened it, he realized he was holding it backwards and upside down.

Because the corner of a piece of paper was sticking out from what was apparently a hidden pocket in the back cover of the journal.

His heart pounded as he pulled out the folded paper, opened it, and began to read.

 ~

Who knows what will have happened by the time you get here? Or maybe you’ll never write in this journal and you’ll never see this.

Which would be a problem, because then you’d never know how I feel.

I hated you, you know. From the moment you walked into class with that condescending little smirk on your stupidly handsome face. You reminded me so much of who I was and what I lost, and I hated it. I had lost everything – and then you came along.

And then you said two words to me that first partnering class. Do you remember?

“Trust me.”

Gods, you had no idea what you were asking of me.

But despite everything. . . I started to.

I eventually trusted you with every single one of my broken, fractured pieces, and you helped put me back together. Now, as I’m writing this, I’m the person that I want to be – because of you.

And in case you were wondering, I still trust you. I trust you more than anyone or anything in this world.

There was always one thing I held back from you, though.

My heart.

But now, I’m trusting you with it. The last piece I have left to give of myself.

Do with it what you like, but it’s yours. It’s been yours since the first time we danced together.

Back in the fall, you said you wanted to know everything about me. Well, Rowan Whitethorn, there’s one more thing need to know.

Now all you have to do is ask me what it is.

Merry Christmas,

Aelin

 ~

Rowan’s vision blurred about halfway through her letter.

Christmas.

Christmas.

He plopped down into a chair as it hit him.

The journal hadn’t been Aelin’s Christmas present to him.

It had been her heart.

She had told him to write his own story.

And she had already put herself within its pages.

Rowan smiled and swiped at his eyes. He grabbed a towel and lightly dabbed at his face before patting the sweat off of his upper body. He took a deep breath. There were still two acts to go, after all. He put his Act Two tunic on, leaving it unhooked for now to let his back cool off. Then came his sweatpants and his dance boots; it was important to keep his muscles warm.

She deserves a Romeo at the top of his game, he thought to himself.

With one last look in the mirror, he headed back downstairs, silently counting down the minutes until he could dance with Aelin again.

----------

Aelin sat in her dressing room, already changed back into her teal dress from Act One. She wore sweatpants underneath the dress and her warmup boots on her currently-bare feet.

In her hands was Rowan’s Christmas present to her.

She scanned the pages and the highlighted text. After the way he had just kissed her – gods above, Rowan had kissed her – she couldn’t help but wonder if she had missed something. A hidden message, maybe.

Like the note she had left in his journal. . .

“Dancers, ten minutes till the top of Act Two, ten minutes to Act Two,” came Amren’s voice over the backstage monitor.

Aelin only had one scene in this entire act, so she wasn’t worried as she kept searching the words of Shakespeare, hoping to find words of Rowan’s instead.

By now, she had read it so many times that she knew which lines were highlighted already.

 Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!

For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. . .

 Can I go forward when my heart is here?

 It is my lady, O, it is my love!

O, that she knew she were!

 “Oh, Rowan,” she whispered as the highlighted words began to make sense.

 Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. . .

 Forgetting any other home but this. . .

 Heaven is here, where Juliet lives. . .

Aelin smiled as tears burned behind her eyes. Rowan hadn’t been trying to tell her that he was Romeo; he was using Romeo’s words to tell her how he felt about her. She just hadn’t seen it. “You were trying to tell me all along, weren’t you?”

She pictured him back in December, poring over the play and trying to pick the lines he wanted her to see. It had probably been as agonizing for him as writing the note had been for her.

Wait.

Has he found the note yet?

No. If he had, he would have come asking.

Wouldn’t he?

“Five minutes to places, five minutes –”

Aelin practically leapt out of her chair, setting the copy of Romeo and Juliet on the counter. She needed to see him. She just –

Is this what love feels like? Wanting to be around him without knowing why?

Closing the door behind her, she made her way down the hall to the stairwell. After one flight, she caught sight of a familiar, silver-haired head, whose back was exposed by his still-undone tunic.

“Wait!” she called.

Rowan stopped, his back still to her.

“Your – your hooks,” she explained a bit sheepishly.

“Ah,” he replied, still facing away.

She lifted her hands tentatively to the row of hooks and eyes, starting with the bottom one. The way the costume was made, the backs of her fingers touched his back every time she hooked one.

He was so still, she wasn’t sure if he was still breathing.

Or if she was, for that matter.

She finally made it to the top hook at the base of his neck. As she hooked it together, his hand suddenly covered hers. He gently tugged her hand, pulling her around to stand in front of him.

Words failed Aelin. Especially with him looking at her like this.

“Thank you.” Rowan’s green eyes never left hers as he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her fingers. Then he laced his fingers with hers, and they descended the rest of the stairs together.

When they made it backstage, Rowan gave her hand one last squeeze. “I’ll see you in a few minutes?” he said quietly.

Aelin nodded, giving him an encouraging smile as she watched him join Aedion and Dorian with a few warmup jumps.

And she began counting down the minutes until she could dance with him again.

----------

The second act was a lot more work for Rowan.

He had made it through the first marketplace scene, which ended with Romeo, Mercutio, and Benvolio teasing Juliet’s Nurse, there to give Romeo a letter from Juliet.

That led to where Rowan was now.

He entered Friar Laurence’s cell, showing the Friar the letter. With a kind smile, the Friar smiled, nodding his consent.

Next came the Nurse, who gave the Friar a low curtsy, gesturing that her young mistress was on her way. Rowan stood waiting by the Friar.

The breath left his lungs again when she appeared, running in with steps light as air.

Aelin took the Friar’s hand and curtsied low. Rowan stepped forward with a hand outstretched, and she took it with a brilliant smile. They knelt before the Friar together, waiting as he blessed their marriage.

Marriage.

Rowan’s thoughts drifted as he waited for his next cue.

Here I am, marrying Juliet onstage in front of a full house.

What would it be like to actually get married?

What would it be like to marry Aelin?

Rowan’s gaze shot to Aelin, whose turquoise eyes were pensive behind her smile.

Is she wondering the same thing?

He stood up with the music, helping Aelin to her feet. He took in every detail of her face as he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers once again.

He had already kissed her once, but this time – it still felt like the world tilted under his feet. He didn’t know if she would ever kiss him outside of this ballet, so he savored everything about it. The tickle of her false eyelashes on his cheek, the softness of her lips, the way they curved into a little smile against his.

Rowan still had a difficult remainder of the act, but as the Nurse pulled his Juliet away, he knew that her kiss could get him through the rest of this act.

And her presence alone, just knowing that she was a few steps away. . . that could get him through anything.

----------

Aelin stood in the wings, watching as Rowan picked up a fencing foil from the stage floor, a few feet from where Dorian lay dead as Mercutio.

Rowan turned to face Lorcan, tonight’s Tybalt, and she caught sight of the blistering wrath that blazed in his eyes.

It took her by surprise.

Aelin realized that had never seen him truly angry before. Frustrated, yes; annoyed, yes – never this angry. But the way he was going after Lorcan, she figured she was getting a glimpse; a sliver of the bitter, broken man he had been after Lyria’s death.

She knew that feeling all too well.

A small part of her wondered if he remembered what she had told him about Lorcan, about him crowning her the “fire-breathing bitch-queen.”

She could certainly fight her own battles when it came to Lorcan Salvaterre.

But if Rowan was making it extra hard for Lorcan on her behalf. . .

Well, she wouldn’t complain.

[mkayisinsane]

Another 11/11/11 Tag Game!!

I was tagged again haha thanks @spilledinkpot for the tag, I really appreciate it! Again, sorry I took so long!

Her questions:

1. Are any (or all) of your ocs inspired by real people or other characters?

Not all of them, and much less so as I get older, but in my early writing every character had a real-life counterpart. Most often, my protagonist's best friend or most trusted person is based off of my parabatai. However, I do pretty much always imagine myself as the main character, or sometimes the villain. Also, imagining yourself as your OC aids the writing process SO MUCH I cannot stress that enough.

2. What is/was your inspiration for your current WIP?

I have a lot of current WIPs, I'm gonna go with my most recent, Flirting with Death. My inspiration was kinda morbid, I was literally sitting in the library at my college waiting on my mother to get me so we could carpool to a funeral. And a few guys were walking past where I sat, eyeing me up and down and I thought to myself, "I swear if one of them tries to hit on me right now I'm gonna make them regret it." And then Thana Carmichael was born. And those guys quickly escaped the death glare I gave them.

3. Do you prefer to plan your characters out, or develop them as the story progresses?

I normally have the base of my character and their personality and how they handle things worked out before I start writing them, but for the most part I develop them as the story progresses. I like to write them in such a way that I learn a little more about them as I go, just like the reader would.

4. How do you deal with writer's block?

I don't lol just kidding! It really depends, if I'm writing and I don't absolutely have to continue or get it done right then, I take a break. Listen to musical soundtracks, play video games, watch a film who's genre corresponds with the type of scene I'm writing. Anything with a story. If I do have to get it done right then though, I just keep writing. I write absolute shit that makes no sense and then take it out later. I once wrote a whole page of "blah" over and over again. I free write until I get my mojo back.

5. What/who first encouraged you to begin writing?

According to my earliest childhood babysitter, I've been writing since I learned the alphabet. I remember once when I was six, I wrote a whole six page book with pictures I drew about why I thought birds were pretty and cool (Update: I am now afraid of birds.) It was titled "BIRDS," yes in all caps, and I cried because my name was so long that I couldn't fit the whole thing on the cover. However, I didn't start really writing until about 6th grade. I was reading a book, and the ending was so sad that I got mad and rewrote it, and I realized how much I loved making stories, how much I loved choosing my own ending. In my life as a child, nothing was certain and I never stayed in one place for too long or made any lasting friendships, but writing was always a constant for me. And through writing I made more friends, and they helped me write and it was just incredible. I can't put into words how much writing has done for me.

6. Are you able to write everyday, or need a couple of days intermediate?

For my WIPs, I definitely need a day or two off before I continue the story but I definitely try to write something every day, even if it's just free-writing or ranting about my day or journaling, I write something every day. It isn't progress on my WIPs, but it helps.

7. How long have you been writing for?

In general, since about age 6 or 7. Seriously, about 6th grade, but I didn't like any of my writing until 8th grade, and at times I don't even now. So in general, 12 or 13 years, but seriously only about 7 or 8 years.

8. What inspired your first WIP?

The Percy Jackson series. I was 10 or 11, and I had just finished that series and I was mad there wasn't more, so I wrote myself into the books as like a spin-off type thing with the minor gods (btw in case anyone cares, I'm a Hades kid). Seven chapters in, my OC still hadn't left her house. It was not my finest work haha

9. Who are the authors that you looked up to, to develop your writing?

Lemony Snicket (yes I know that's a pen name, but I mean A Series of Unfortunate Events specifically), Neal Shusterman with his Unwind series, Marie Lu with literally anything she's written, Cassandra Clare with The Infernal Devices and The Mortal Instruments, J.K. Rowling with Harry Potter (I'm a huge Potterhead, Slytherin btw), Rick Riordan with anything he's ever written, Leigh Bardugo with anything she's ever written but mainly Six of Crows, and Oscar Wilde with The Picture of Dorian Gray. Probably many many more, I'll think of them later.

10. Is there a book that inspired you to write your own story?

Remember I mentioned that I didn't like the ending of a book I was reading so I rewrote it? That book was Bridge to Teribethia. If you read it, you know why I changed the ending. But also, I drew inspiration from books that made me feel like I was actually in the story, like I could see it all for myself. The stories felt real, and I wanted to be able to tell stories like that. To travel the world without leaving my room.

11. Do you include moral points in your writing, or prefer just the entertainment?

There is always something to take away from my writing, some lesson to be had, whether it be an emotion, a theme, a vice, or a virtue. I can't promise it's always moral, but it's always there.

My questions:

Which of your OCs fits the quote, "those with no vices have very few virtues"?

If you could meet just one of your favorite authors, dead or alive, who would it be?

What is your number one goal as a writer? (i.e. have your books taught in schools as "classics," write a series that makes people cry, get fanmail, mine personally is to create the perfect villain that no one can hate no matter what they do)

Do you project onto your writing?

Favorite ship you've written? Why?

Do you write LGBTQ+ characters? Why?

Do you write characters with mental illness? Why?

Have you ever tried to get published/actually been published?

What keeps you motivated to write?

What is your writing support system?

Do you write book dedications, and if so, are they always different?

And this concludes our 11/11/11 tag game! If I've tagged you and you have no clue who I am, I'm sorry lol I panicked tagging people but it means that either I follow you or you follow me. Rules are simple: answer my 11 questions, ask your own 11 questions, tag 11 people to answer them! Of course you don't have to play if you don't wanna, don't feel pressured to. If you want to tag me back or have me answer my own questions or just random questions, shoot me an ask. Thanks, and good luck!

@r-avenlee @writingmyselfintoanearlygrave @benvolio-writes @illiteracy-is-for-woozles @ill-write-when-im-dead @mercyandcruelty @crimescenedwrites @fictionalthrills @writerofscribbles @els-writes @gaslightwestern