#i missed writing em

[milfcutlawquane]

Work Summary: In the wake of the battle of Kamino, Fives and Echo find something that probably was never meant to be found at all.

(the one where Rex, due to his natural blond mutation, was pulled away as a tubie to be experimented on)

[sharpedgedfool]

OBSESSED WITH YOUR FLEETADOW FIC I READ IT ALL IN ONE SITTING & HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT NONSTOP FOR DAYS SINCE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

Glad you liked it!! Heres some goobers

[transvampireboyfriend]

Here's a little snippet from a tattoo shop/bakery au that i got kinda stuck on and i dont know if ill ever finish.

some context: Chrissy and Eddie are best friends that live in different states, Eds is taking two weeks off work for Chris' visit, he won't be at his tattoo shop which means he won't see the cute baker from next door

Chrissy's in the middle of answering and he's stretching his arms above his head when they hear the front door opening and the little bell above it chiming.

Eddie left the sign up front switched to "CLOSED", which can only mean-

"Eds?" Steve calls into the studio

Eddie immediately gets up from his seat and goes to meet him at the lobby, missing Chrissy's surprised look.

"Hiya, Stevie." he greets, bumping his knuckles against the front counter where Steve is standing just to the side of it.

He's secretly been hoping Steve would stop by just so he could see him. Just so he could hear his voice one last time before he has to go on for days without it.

Steve looks good too, in a plain white shirt, his blue apron and the absolute best pair of lightwash jeans in the whole entire world (if you're asking Eddie).

"I thought I saw you come in" Steve says, "You've been here for hours and you didn't come by to get breakfast, so i brought you this" he lifts the tray in his hands.

There's a mug with coffee, several sugar packets and two chocolate croissants.

"Aw, Steve, you didn't have to" Eddie says, genuinely touched. His heart flutters even though this is typical of Steve. He's just the sweetest.

"Oh, stop it," Steve protests, sounding bashful "these are from yesterday, I can't sell them" he says, placing the tray on the counter. A blush colors his cheeks and Eddie smiles, he looks so pretty.

Eddie knows by now how a pastry looks when it's fresh. He can't be fooled anymore.

It's been so long of them doing this dance though, and Eddie knows if he mentions it Steve will just get embarrassed, so he keeps his mouth shut about it.

"Well, they look really good." Eddie says instead "Thank you, sweetheart" he adds softly, his eyes drawn to the pink blooming on Steve's cheeks and focusing on the flour smeared across Steve's nose. He wants to kiss it and get flour all over his lips.

Eddie leans towards the tray and breaks away a piece of croissant, taking a bite.

Yep. Either Steve made these this morning or he's got magic abilities.

" 'M sure gonna miss these" Eddie says around his mouthful, gesturing with the bit of pastry still in his hand.

"Ugh, don't remind me," Steve groans "the shop already feels dull today"

Eddie laughs softly "You flatterer" he accuses

"Just trying to get you to visit" Steve defends, leaning against the counter and into Eddie's personal space to tap the rim of Eddie's reading glasses.

"Like I could stay away from your shop" Eddie says, tries his best not to sound breathless. He thinks he fails, and he must be blushing too, judging by how Steve's eyes are roaming his face.

"Good. Cause we need the business this month" Steve jokes.

That makes Eddie snort and laugh, Steve's shop is filled to the brim with costumers at least twice a day, five days a week.

Steve smiles at him again and then he peers around Eddie.

"Oh, hi!" Steve greets, straightens up and waves a little.

Eddie turns to see Chrissy leaning against the lobby partition, observing with her arms crossed.

Fuck.

"Chriiisssyyyy!" Eddie draws, and she narrows her eyes suspiciously "C'mere!" Eddie soldiers on,

Chrissy eyes him warily but walks to the counter and smiles sweetly at Steve, "Hi!" she greets "I'm Chrissy."

Steve's eyes widen "Of course! Eddie was picking you up today! I'm Steve, it's nice meeting you!"

He's such an angel, Eddie wants to cry.

"Likewise, Steve. I'm so sorry, I don't think Eddie's mentioned you yet" Chris says, but directs it to Eddie, glaring at him.

Eddie's about to answer, offended, but gets stuck on Steve's crestfallen expression for a split second and then Steve beats him to it.

"Oh, it's okay" Steve says, his smile reappearing, "I own the bakery next door" he supplies.

"He brought croissants!" Eddie tries to redirect "The best croissants in the state I'd say" he offers, succeeding in lightening Steve's mood again, judging by the twinkle in his eye.

Satisfied, Eddie asks Chris "D'you want one?"

Chrissy looks at him weird but mutters "sure" and grabs the one still whole.

"Well!" Steve exclaims, softly clapping his hands against his sides,

"I was just dropping these by, I won't take up any more of your time." Steve says "Chrissy it was really nice meeting you, I hope you have a great time in our town."

He turns to Eddie then and reaches out to squeeze his arm "And Eds, I hope you get lots of rest during your break. And visit us." he adds, moving his hand up to softly pull on a stray bit of hair that fell off Eddie's bun "The place won't be the same without you"

Eddie deflects so he doesn't melt under his gaze.

"I'm not dying, Stevie." he says, grabbing him by the shoulders and bodily turning him around as Steve softly laughs.

Judging by how his own cheeks are burning, Eddie's sure that he's the exact shade of a ripe tomato.

"I'll be back before you know it." Eddie adds, and with that, he gets Steve out the door.

Steve turns to say "You better" to Eddie. And once again, he peers around him to wave his fingers at Chrissy "Bye!" he says.

Sweetheart.

Eddie forces himself to not watch him walk the few steps between their shops.

When he turns back to his best friend he's relieved to see she's not glaring at him anymore.

She's got chocolate in the corner of her mouth and she's nodding.

"These are really good" Chrissy says, lulling Eddie into a false sense of safety.

He walks towards her to pick up and continue eating his own croissant, but as soon as he's within reach, Chris smacks the back of her hand against his bicep.

"OW!" Eddie protests, leaning against the counter and rubbing his arm.

She's been an athlete ever since they were in middle school together and she's never pulled her punches with him, it's a big part of why he loves her so much.

"You never told me you had a boyfriend!" she accuses, her mouth still full.

[gunsatthaphan]

I hate their asses sdkjhgf

[goldenhypen]

⋆｡⠐ happy ✧｡♡

✴︎｡⠐ birthday ⠐⚬⋅｡

⋅｡⠐ to the kindest cutest most loving cheerful hard working greatest prettiest handsomest funniest hottest jakey sim 🦭 ⚬♡⋅｡

⎯ ⋅ ♡ ⋅ ⎯

jake, my love and admiration for you go beyond words. thank you for blessing me with so much joy and love in my life. you’re an inspiration to so many and i’m so grateful for you and incredibly proud of where you are and who you’ve become. and you deserve all the best things, or at least to have the best birthday of your life this year <3 eat well and celebrate lots my love <3 i love you and happy birthday <33

[pokimoko]

Hi, I just saw your art of the snake and the pigeon with aromantic flags, and they look amazing! I thought that a pigeon done in the colours of the queerplatonic and/or oriented aroace flag would be adorable. Did you know that pigeons mate for life and often show affection to their partner by cuddling with each other and giving them light pecks around the neck and head? They also are apparently great parents, with both males and females taking care of the young, this load is shared almost equally between the sexes. Both parents build nests, sit on eggs, and lactate (well “pseudo-lactation” technically) to feed chicks. I just thought the idea of two pigeons in a qpr would be really cute.

Sorry for the ramble about pigeons, I just really like them.

Don't apologise, I love me some pigeon facts. And you're absolutely right, two pigeons in a QPR would be really cute.

[rottin6]

layla beloved your frat initiation bartylily chasing-in-the-woods concept is something that i think about…. so frequently. haunts me. i don’t even need you write it atp i just need more THOUGHTS 😭

stopppp it i'm giggling at the thought of them 'cause they're so nasty @sommerregenjuniluft is wholly partly to blame

like picture it, frat boy barty daddy issues barty n trust fund barty all in one, like my guy has issues on top of issues. he's made to go to uni by his dad and (idk how frats work i am british) he's in his third and final year of his degree, and he's the president of the frat obviously cause so was his dad and so was his dad and so on

lily, however, loathes him. she thinks the absolute worst of him but she's never even spoken to him. she just hates what he comes from and all that stuff. she's doing a journalism degree and writes for the college paper, like she's on her grind trying to get through uni

one day lily gets some inside scoop that barty's frat is hosting an initiation ritual that apparently happens every night but no one actually knows what goes down so she makes it her mission to get in so she can publish it in the paper and ruin his image and all that jazz

AND THEN she gets there the night of the ritual and barty sees her and he knows who she is cause she hates him that much and and the ritual basically

the existing frat boys are recruiting the new year boys and as part of the initiation they get chased in the woods and the older years wear masks n shit and it’s fucked up in every sense, like they get their chase and it’s perverted and just so…barty if that makes sense

but it’s just an initiation for the boys, no one else at all so lily has to sneak in and she thinks she’s all slick hiding behind trees n stuff but then

barty creeps up behind her, an ache in the pit of his stomach. even in the night, he hates how he can recognise her by her stupid red hair. there’s an animalistic urge to pull on it, to yank her back into him, but instead he snakes his arm around her throat, his bicep pressing on her pulse. his other hand covers her mouth and he can feel the way her body shakes, how it squirms against him, and he tuts, shaking his head.

now obviously lily fights back, she hits her head back into his face and his lip’s bleeding and all but my barty’s huge, like this guy is built so he’s stronger than her and he’s had enough—he tightens his hold on her, pinning her against the tree and he’s pissed as fuck. he’s pressing his body against hers so she can’t move, also holding her by her throat cause he likes the feel of her panicking and how she gulps. he’s grinning like a madman, wiping the blood off his lip with his thumb and he’s all like “you can’t come and not play the game, doll.” and she’s crying, shaking her head and she’s begging him to stop but but

he lifts a leg up, pushing his knee on her stomach and he begins to undo his belt with one hand, the other stroking the side of her face. it’d be romantic in any other situation if not for the fact that lily thinks she’s well and truly going to die. he spits on the ground to the side of them, his thick cock pulsing at the sight of her tears. he relishes in the view, at her lips quivering and the way she still begs him to stop. it’s cute, he thinks.

and then at some other point

“are you—are you getting off on this?” barty snickers, his fingers trailing across the dampness on her panties. he watches the way she closes her eyes tight, her lips parting slightly. “you’re a sick bitch, y’know that, doll? a pretty fuckin whore, coming out here, thinkin’—thinkin’ you can just do what you want, hm?”

but she still struggles against him, trying to fight cause that’s just lily evans but he’s licking his lips, shaking his head and the next thing she knows is he’s taking out a gun from the waistband of his jeans, he’s got it to the bottom of her chin, murmuring, “i really wish you wouldn’t do that,” but she doesn’t care, she tries to wriggle out of his hold and he tightens his grip on her, moving the gun to her forehead, “don’t fuckin move. you move and i’ll fuckin shoot you, okay? you got it?”

“barty, please...” lily pleads with him, as he yanks her by her hair.

“barty, please,” he mocks. “jesus, you're fucking pathetic. you’re lucky that i haven't put a bullet in that pretty fucking skull of yours yet.”

and at some point she’s running again, after kicking him in the groin obviously and he’s chasing after her, he’s in love with the chase, getting so high off it and then he’s tackling her to the ground, mud over the both of them. he’s on top of her, gripping her by both her dimples and pushing her face down into the ground

“i know the shit you say about me, what you write about me in that—in that little paper of yours.” he’s breathing heavily, pulling the zipper down on his jeans as he mounts over her. “i should kill you right now,” he whispers heavily against her ear. “but that's not what you want, is it? you want me to fuck you, right here on the dirty fucking ground, don’t you?” he smiles, demented. and he moves the gun down to her mouth. "just a dirty little whore that wants to get filled with dick, right?"

and then they have hot steamy sex in the middle of the woods 🏌🏽‍♀️

[somebluemelodies]

happy holidays my friends! my gift to you in these trying lore times is canon divergence <3 angst? what’s that? i only know richas and pepito have gotten ahold of mistletoe—

The kids are planning something.

The kids in question? Richarlyson and Pepito, who have been chittering and giggling almost nonstop since they finished opening their presents, using their notebooks instead of signing so their parents can’t figure out what the fuck could be about to happen.

Cellbit and Roier stop trying to figure it out when they get denied information the third time, so they can only trust whatever the two hatchlings were plotting isn’t going to be explosive, at the very least.

Nothing in fact happens for a long while, and one could assume that maybe they don’t have any plans in mind. Maybe they’re just gossiping.

(God only knows how much Richarlyson loves to.)

And then the party happens. An island-wide thing, per most of the major celebrations. There’s a whole new area, too, decorated similarly to spawn. A snowy little wonderland, with colorful blinking lights strung between tall pines decorated with large ornaments and occasional garland.

(It’s a welcome change from everything that’s been transpiring over the last few weeks.

A chance to recuperate.)

Roier is talking to Étoiles and Bagi when something tugs his pant leg, and he looks down.

Bright eyes and big, round glasses are looking right back up at him. “Pepiux?”

Pepito grabs his hand instead, trying to pull him away. “Ay— ¿Qué pasa, Pepito? What the fuck?”

Pepito only tugs his hand again, more insistent. The hatchling is smiling, though, eyes twinkling with mirth Pepito has failed to conceal, and at the very least, Roier knows something hasn’t gone to shit. “Okay, okay. Vamos, Pepito, vamos.”

He’s led over to under some tree a good distance away, but he doesn’t see anything. The spider-hybrid looks around, shooting Pepito a questioning look, but Pepito only beams with no elaboration, still holding his hand.

Roier keeps looking around. Is he supposed to see something? Nobody seems to be doing anything unexpected.

And then he looks up. “No mames, wey— Pepiux, you sneaky—”

“Guapito?”

He looks back down, and finds his husband being led by a very determined-looking Richarlyson. “O que é isso, Richas?” Cellbit laughs, and warmth blooms in Roier’s heart at the sound.

The hatchling lets go of his hand when he and Roier are standing directly in front of each other, and Pepito finally lets go of the spider-hybrid’s, too.

Cellbit copies Roier and looks up, eyes widening slightly. But then a smile creeps onto his face, and his piercing eyes are shining in a way the lights can’t provide, in a way his husband hasn’t seen in a long while.

How the kids placed the mistletoe up there, they’re not gonna question.

Instead, their focus is on what the hatchlings added to the holiday sprig: pink amaranths.

Cellbit looks down at Richarlyson and Pepito, who have just finished a high-five and are looking extremely pleased with themselves. He quirks an eyebrow. “We’re literally married, you guys.”

Richarlyson whips out his notebook, writing with a comedic ferocity before holding it up. AND? YOUR POINT IS?

Pepito lifts his own notebook, a lot less aggressive as he bounces in place. FELIZ NAVIDAD APAS :-D

The cat-hybrid chuckles to himself, shaking his head. His attention is diverted by hands settling on his waist. Roier’s smile is soft, and he’s looking at Cellbit in a way that makes him weak, mind going pleasantly fuzzy. “Oi…”

“Hola, gatinho,” Roier murmurs.

(Satisfied, Richarlyson and Pepito slink off, giggling at the prospect of the next part of their grand plan.)

Cellbit closes the space between their bodies, one arm wrapping around his husband’s neck while the other cups his face. Roier feels a familiar coil around his leg.

The spider-hybrid spares one last glance up at the customized mistletoe before pressing their foreheads together. “Well? You gonna kiss me or what, pendejo?”

“Pendejo? With that mouth of yours?” the investigator quips.

“It’s more fun, no?”

Cellbit hums, his thumb brushing along Roier’s cheekbone. “Claro.”

And with that, Cellbit tilts his head and the distance is closed, eyes fluttering shut as they melt into the kiss.

Subconsciously, they hold each other tighter, pulling each other impossibly closer. The world fades out around them, until it’s nothing but each other.

(They’re already as close as they can get.)

(Not that the fact will stop them from trying.)

They don’t pull apart until their lungs are burning for oxygen, watching each other closely as their hearts race in their chests.

Their silent stare at each other hardly lasts a few seconds before grins are splitting their faces, foreheads pressing together as their shoulders shake with silent laughter.

But then Roier makes a sound, unable to keep quiet, and that’s all it takes for them to both fall into proper laughter. Cellbit’s head drops to his husband’s shoulder, burying it in an attempt to stifle the growing noise.

(He hears Roier through his laughter, “hijo de puta, Cellbo—”)

They rock in place until they’re finally able to calm back down and catch their breath, and Cellbit lifts his head. He moves his hands back, cupping Roier’s face in both and studying him fondly.

“Told you it was more fun,” the latter chirps, and it takes more self-control than Cellbit cares to admit to not start laughing again.

(Roier’s always been good at that: making him laugh even at the simplest of things.

Maybe it’s less Roier and more a testament to just how whipped Cellbit is. But that’s nobody’s business but his own.)

(Since day one.)

The cat-hybrid rolls his eyes, not a trace of malice to be found. “Whatever, man.”

“Ey, man, what the fuck?” Roier moves a hand from Cellbit’s waist, putting it to his heart. “You know I’m speaking facts. Pure facts.”

“Cállate, guapito.” The cat-hybrid pinches one of his cheeks.

“I have a better idea,” his husband answers.

Cellbit doesn’t even get a chance to ask before Roier’s hand is against the back of his head, threading through his hair, and their lips are pressed together once more. A little less gentle, a little more passionate, but no less perfect as it speaks the words they don’t need to.

(Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.)

(And across the way, a flustered scientist and an equally-flustered war veteran find themselves under a red-rosed mistletoe.)

(A very Merry Christmas, indeed.)

[corpsentry]

distance is a knife

[kobaruto-pyrite]

I wanted to draw Bortz’ smile from Chapter 86 💔

[sleepy-sham]

can't believe people like @karizard-ao3 & @sinigangsta-ao3 & @likesunsetorange & @littlerosette & @darlingkirstein & @strscrossed & @sunlightandsuffering & @cxcassii & @dead-dolphins & @herblacktights & @outthewoods & @six-magnitude-girl exist. like y'all are just out here writing books. for free. that we can enjoy. for free. like wow. truly incredible. could not support my crippling addiction to eremika without y'all. I am giving you all the biggest internet kiss.

[sagesolsticewrites]

Love’s Light Wings: Chapter 2 (“The course of true love never did run smooth”)

John Brady x Juliet Thompson (OFC)

Job interviews, wedding planning, and first meetings, oh my! John and Jules navigate his homecoming and start planning for their future while reckoning with the impact the past two years have had. Juliet finally puts a face to a name regarding a certain dear pen pal, along with several other new friends.

Word count: 6.4k

Warnings: description of a panic attack and PTSD symptoms (please let me know if there's anything I missed!)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Hugest of huge shoutouts to @winniemaywebber and @blakelysco-pilot for reading this many many times before I posted it; our girls are finally together! 🥹 I love y’all 💕

Masterlist | Prologue | Chapter 1 

Juliet wakes, as she always does these days, with a smile.

It’s been around two weeks since her Johnny came home— two wonderful weeks since he’d proposed in the back garden— and she’d loved every second. John had been settling back into life at home in sleepy Victor, New York, taking the time to grieve the friends he’d lost overseas and process the passing of his father, happy to have his mother fussing over him while he took a break before resuming the search for a job.

Juliet had indeed asked around as promised and found that Victor High School was in the market for a second music teacher— poor Mr. Brown was getting overwhelmed with the class load and was looking forward to some help. So today, John had an interview with the principal, and Juliet was coming along to introduce him.

Beaming, she rolls out of bed to get ready for the day. Once her face is washed and she’s donned her favorite light green shirtwaist dress, she races to her vanity for her new favorite part of her morning routine: slipping on her engagement ring.

A warm wave of joy rushes through her feeling the subtle weight of it on her finger, the emerald and two tiny diamonds sparkling in the sunlight.

She skips downstairs once she’s deemed herself presentable, greeting her parents with a kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning,” her mother laughs, “you’re certainly in a good mood today.”

“It’s a good day,” Juliet shrugs, trying to downplay her excitement.

“Because you get to see John?” 

“Yes…” she drags out at her mother’s knowing look, unable to hide her smile, “And because of my lunch date with the girls, remember?”

“Oh yes,” her father laughs from his place at the table, “How could we forget?” In a more sincere tone, he continues, “I hope you plan on thanking Olive for all her letters when you meet her.”

“Of course, Daddy,” Juliet replies, “She was such a wonderful friend to have when Johnny was…”

She trails off, then clears her throat, continuing with an unbothered smile. 

“And I can’t wait to meet Val, she sounded like quite the character in Olive's letters.”

“You’ll be home in time for dinner, yes?”

“Yes, mama, I will.”

Breakfast passes quickly with quiet conversation, and promptly at 10 o’clock there’s a knock at the door.

Juliet jumps up from her chair with a squeal, racing to the front door. She pauses, taking a moment to brush any wrinkles from her dress and adjust her favorite brooch before opening the door to a smiling John Brady.

“Hi sweetheart.”

Butterflies flurry to life in her stomach as he leans in to press a chaste kiss to her cheek, mindful of her parents nearby.

“Hi, Johnny,” she smiles, “You look very nice, honey.”

Her boy preens in that shy way he does whenever she compliments him, stepping into the foyer.

“And you look lovely as always, Jules.” He nods to her parents lingering in the hall with a smile, “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson.”

Greetings are exchanged, going over the schedule once more— interview, then John will drop Juliet off at the station so she can take the train into town for her lunch, he’ll be driving into town later to meet up with his fellow members of the 100th and dropping Juliet at home promptly at dinnertime.

Juliet’s parents wish John luck, reminding them to be safe, her mother urging her to say hello to all of the girls for her, and with some difficulty they manage to get out the door and into the car.

“You have your resume?”

John’s lips twitch slightly as he holds back a soft laugh, nodding to the glovebox, “Yes, dear—”

“And your c—”

“— and my cover letter, yes. As well as a few references.” He looks fondly over at his fiancée, “I have done this before, honey.”

“I know,” Juliet flushes a rosy pink, “I know, I just— I want to help in any way I can, Johnny.”

“You are helping, Jules,” he assures her, reaching to clasp her hand in his, thumb stroking gently over the back of it, “You’re introducing me to the new principal, you absolutely didn’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” she insists, “And besides, someone has to come in there and show you off,” she teases sweetly, “Knowing you, you’ll be the humble gentleman you always are and downplay all your experience.”

His lips quirk up into a smile reminiscing on his time as a teacher, which had come to an end when he enlisted after the Pearl Harbor attacks.

“Ah yes, my whole one semester of experience.”

“Hey,” she scolds at his sarcastic tone, “One semester is more than most people wanting this job have.” Her tone softens, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, “You’ve got this, Johnny.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Upon arriving at the school, Juliet directs him to the principal’s office, occupied by a man who seems to be about the same age as her father. The two exchange a friendly greeting, Juliet turning on her brilliant, most charming smile as she turns to her fiancé, making the brief introductions and subtly slipping in a comment about how John’s “looking forward to being back.”

“Well, I’ll let you two talk,” she smiles demurely, slipping quietly out the door and clicking it closed behind her.

An hour later, a familiar figure stands in the doorway of her classroom where she’d decided to make some progress on her curriculum preparations. Looking up, she can barely hold back a squeal.

“Johnny! How did it go?”

His smile tells her everything she needs to know, even as he says, “I think it went really, really well. Mr. Asher said I should hear from them in a few days with their decision.”

She flings her arms around him, beaming.

“I knew they’d see how amazing you are. We’ll be working together again!”

“Honey, did you hear the part where I have to wait a few days to hear their decision?”

“That’s just a formality, Johnny,” she assures him as they begin the walk back to the car, “If I know Mr. Asher, he wanted to give you the job right away.”

Her fiancée just laughs, pulling her close to press a kiss to her temple as he opens the door for her.

He drops her off at the station with a kiss and a “Say hi to Olive and Val for me— they’ll love you, honey, I promise,” and she passes the time quickly with the paperback tucked into her purse.

At the station, Juliet scans the crowd for her friends— despite her protests, they’d insisted they meet her there and walk to lunch together.

She grins as she spots Jo and Jean standing with two other women, racing towards them.

“Jo! Hi darling!” She says, flinging her arms around her friends, “And Mrs. Croz, looking lovely as always.”

“Thank you, honey,” Jean laughs.

“So good to see you, Jules.” Jo beams, and then her attention turns to the stylish brunette standing beside her, “This is—”

“Val DiRosano,” the woman beams, reaching over for a handshake, which Jules ignores as she goes in for a hug.

“So wonderful to meet you at last, Val.” She says, “I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things from Johnny.”

“I should hope so,” she grins, green eyes sparkling as she gestures towards the woman beside her, “Same here, from both Brady and Olive.”

The sweet brown-haired, hazel-eyed girl gives Juliet a wave.

“Hi, Jules,” she says softly, her accented voice a surprise to Juliet’s ears, “So happy to finally meet you.”

A wave of emotion wells up in Juliet as she recalls the dozens of letters she’d exchanged with the girl before her, pouring out her worries about John, her dreams for when the war was over, essays pages long in which they rambled about Shakespeare, eagerly forming a friendship on countless sheets of paper. She recalled the two letters she’d gotten on that awful October day— one from her friend wishing her the happiest of birthdays, no doubt informed by Johnny, the other in which Olive somberly informed her that her boy had gone down, with a promise— soon fulfilled— that she’d write as soon as she had any more news. This was the girl who had talked her through some of the most horrible months of her life an ocean away, and before she knows it, Juliet is moving to pull Olive into a tight hug, tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m so, so happy to meet you,” she murmurs, “Thank you for—” she swallows around the sudden lump in her throat, her voice tight, “for everything.”

Olive’s arms squeeze around her just as fiercely.

“Of course, darling.” She whispers, “I wish I could’ve done more—”

“No,” Juliet insists, “You were a lifeline when I needed one most, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for it.”

With one final squeeze, the girls separate, matching teary smiles on their faces.

“Well,” Juliet giggles, trying to lighten the mood as she brushes her tears away, “I knew you were a Brit, but somehow the accent was still a surprise.”

“It was for me, too,” Val laughs.

“It seems I’m just surprising in general,” Olive smiles, “Now come on, ladies, I’m starving.”

They soon find themselves seated in a booth at a sweet little diner, laughing like they’ve known each other their whole lives.

“No, really! Baseball superstar Val over here decided to take over entertaining Meatball and threw it right into the briefing room!”

“You know I didn’t mean to!” Val laughs, “And besides, Chicky wasn’t too mad at us.”

“Chicky?” Jean’s brow furrows, Jo mirroring her confused expression, and Olive snorts.

“Her little nickname for Colonel Chick Harding.”

“Wha—?”

“Oh please, I know he liked it no matter how many times he complained,” Val laughs, tucking away a stray hair behind her ear.

It’s then that Juliet catches a glimpse of a lovely emerald ring glinting in the light.

“Oh Val!,” she gushes, “That ring is gorgeous.”

“Oh! Thank you,” the girl seems to go soft as she glances down at her left hand, and the girls swoon as she recounts the story of Everett Blakely’s proposal, a wide smile lighting up her dignified face.

“That’s so sweet,” Juliet says, pressing a hand to her heart, and the other girls lean in to examine it as Val holds her hand out proudly.

“Wait, Jules, we haven’t gotten to see yours yet!”

Jo was right, Jules realized, she had phoned her and Jean as soon as she could to gush about John’s proposal, but in the excitement of meeting Olive and Val, actually showing them the ring as she’d promised had slipped her mind.

She politely waits until the girls are done ooohing and aaahing over Val’s exquisite ring to extend her own for inspection.

Olive’s eyes nearly bug out of her head.

“Juliet Thompson, Brady proposed and you didn’t tell me!”

“I’m telling you now!” Juliet laughs, “It was such a surprise… apparently he asked my parents for permission the night he came home,” she says, visibly softening at the memory, “and the next day he was down on one knee in our back garden with his grandmother’s ring.” She locks eyes with Olive, knowing she’ll appreciate this next part as she squeals, “He quoted Tempest.”

Olive lets out an outright gasp, “He did not!”

She nods fervently, beaming, “I would not wish—”

Olive finishes the quote with her, “— any companion in the world but you! Oh, that’s lovely, Jules.”

Val grins as she examines Juliet’s ring, extending her hand next to hers so the two emeralds are sparkling in the light.

“Brady’s got good taste, I see.”

“Looks like your Everett does, too,” Juliet laughs.

“Well of course he does,” Val says with a playful toss of her hair, “He’s with me, isn’t he?”

Jean lets out a happy sigh, her gaze scanning over the girls huddled together in the booth.

“It’s so wonderful that we’re all together now, isn’t it?”

“Almost all of us,” Jules reminds her kindly, “Vika wasn’t able to get away from the hotel— but she promised she’ll be at our next little get-together.”

“Vika?” Olive asks, the unfamiliar name having piqued her interest.

“One of my school friends,” Juliet replies, the glow of happiness surrounding her seeming to intensify, “We drifted apart a bit after graduation, but we’ve since reconnected and it’s been wonderful.”

“She’s been a darling addition to our little group here, you two will absolutely adore her,” Jean assures Olive and Val.

Jo, Jean, and Juliet fill Olive and Val in about their time spent with Vika, as if trying to fill the space where she should be.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Val says, red lips turned up into a sweet smile, “She sounds lovely.”

They talk for hours, though it seems like no time has passed at all when John enters the diner, scanning the room for Juliet, followed by several other men.

“Oh goodness, is it that time already?” Juliet glances at her watch as her fiancé makes his way over to their little booth.

“Hi sweetheart,” John says, bending down to press a chaste kiss to her cheek, then nodding to the rest of the girls, “Ladies. Olive, Val, very good to see you again.”

“Wonderful to see you, Brady.” Val grins. 

“Congratulations, by the way,” Olive says in a mock-offended tone, “I can't believe I had to wait two entire weeks to find out you proposed, Brady.”

The smile on his face stretches into a wide grin, seeing right through the act, “Well, you’re all invited to the wedding, will that be enough to make it up to you?”

“I suppose, “ Olive replies with a smile, her eyes going soft as her gaze drifts to the blue-eyed mustachioed man standing next to Brady, “Hi, honey.”

“Hey, Ollie,” the man replies sweetly, sliding into the booth next to her, then turning back to Brady, gesturing to the little group gathered around, “So, Brady, you gonna introduce us?”

With a good-natured roll of his eyes, John settles next to Juliet in the booth, gesturing between her and the boys.

“Gentlemen, this is my fiancée. Juliet.”

She gives him a tender smile, a swell of warmth rushing through her at her name on his lips alongside fiancée, though she soon remembers her manners and turns her attention back to the men, the names of whom John is currently listing— she had heard lots about them from the girls, but seeing them and putting faces to names was another thing entirely.

Rosie Rosenthal— the man Jo had been worrying over for months since he signed up for a second tour— gives her a kind smile, mustache twitching upwards. Harry Crosby— Jean’s beloved Bing— a softspoken man with kind brown eyes, greets her with a “Pleasure to meet you.” Everett Blakely beams, reaching over to greet her with a firm handshake, hazel eyes sparkling as he tells her how happy he is to finally meet the girl “Brady wouldn’t shut up about”, the comment bringing a blush to her cheeks. James Douglass— the man settled next to Olive, blue eyes bright and happy— perks up at her name.

“So I have you to thank for the Shakespeare lessons!”

“Yes, I’m glad they came in handy,” Juliet laughs, glancing pointedly at Olive. In one of his early letters, Johnny had asked for some of her particular favorite passages to pass on to Dougie in an attempt to help him woo Olive, and she was happy to see that they had helped— especially after she’d heard about the “I hope” incident.

“I mean, I don’t think I was that bad before, but—”

“‘I hope,’ sweetheart.”

“You are never gonna let that go, are you Ollie?”

“Never,” Olive beams, her smile matching the one on Dougie’s face.

The introductions quickly turn into another hour of talking before Juliet realizes how much time has passed. After a series of rushed goodbyes and long hugs, John ushers her into the car to begin the drive back upstate.

“Well? What did you think?”

“Of your friends? Johnny, they’re all wonderful,” Juliet smiles, “I'm so looking forward to getting to know them more. And Olive and Val! I feel like I’ve known them forever.”

She turns smiling to look out the window at the blur of trees passing by, green eyes turned golden in the setting sun.

“Yes, I think we’ll all be very good friends.”

“It was nice of Benny to offer to escort Vika home,” John observes a week later on their way home from their informal engagement party— they had gathered all of their friends at one of their favorite restaurants in the city, with the addition of Benny DeMarco and Juliet’s dear friend Ruthvika Patel— formerly “Ruthie”, now “Vika” thanks to the encouragement of the girls.

“Well of course he did,” Juliet laughs, “He’s absolutely smitten.” She sighs happily, “I knew he’d like her.”

“Really? How could you tell?”

“Are you joking, honey? He could hardly take his eyes off her the whole time,” she reaches over to poke him playfully, “Very similar to a certain someone I met in college.”

“Wha—? Okay, I was not that obvious…” John glances over at her, “Was I?”

“A little bit.”

“Well anyway,” he glosses over this revelation entirely, “I know DeMarco, if he likes her that much he’ll be asking her out in no time.”

“No, I hope he takes his time,” Juliet says, “Vika’s shy, and I don’t think she’s ever been in a relationship before. It’ll be better if they get to know each other as friends first.”

“Well, it’ll be interesting to see how it goes. They seemed to be getting along.”

“We’ll see if there’s any progress next week.”

“Next week?”

“Remember, your golf game with the boys? The girls and I are going shopping for the wedding while you all are out.”

“Shopping? But I thought you already had a dress, honey.”

Juliet shoots him a look.

“I need other things besides a dress, my love.”

“Of course, of course,” John says, holding one hand up in surrender, “I hope you girls have fun.”

“Thank you, honey.” Her tone is sincere as she reaches to intertwine her fingers, the car slowing as they pull up to the Thompson home.

“Hey,” he murmurs, turning to face her, “I love you.”

Her heart goes soft as he leans in to press a tender kiss to her mouth, pulling away just enough to meet her eyes.

“And I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I love you so much,” Juliet says softly, leaning in for another quick kiss, lingering as their eyes meet before she reluctantly slips out of the car, “I’ll see you soon, honey.” 

“Oh!” She calls, pausing as she makes her way up the front walk, “Do you still want help with putting together those lesson plans?”

“I'd love that,” he smiles, “Come over tomorrow? I know my mother would love to see her future daughter-in-law.”

“Yes! I can’t wait to catch up with her,” Juliet replies, lighting up at the prospect of seeing Mrs. Alice Brady.

John shakes his head, “Sometimes I wonder if you’re marrying me just to get to her.”

“Oh no, you caught me,” Juliet laughs, “What can I say, honey? We bonded.”

He chuckles, giving his fiancée a fond smile, “I’m glad you two get along so well. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” she confirms, blowing one last kiss his way before making her way inside, John only pulling away once the door is closed behind her.

One week— and one delightful visit to Mrs. Alice Brady— later, she and John are once again driving into the city.

“What are you girls shopping for again?”

“Just some accessories. And Jean said she was looking for a new dress— oh, and Olive wanted to stop by a bookstore at some point if there’s time—”

The corner of his smile twitches, just barely holding back a fond laugh, but all her fiancé says is, “Sounds like you have quite the day planned. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” Juliet laughs, “The girls and I will be talking your ear off at dinner.”

“I’ll tell the fellas to be prepared.”

“You girls have fun!”

“We’ll meet you for dinner at 6, alright?”

Juliet, Jo, Jean, Val, and Olive all wave off their respective men— and Vika shyly waves off Benny— with promises that they’d be at the restaurant at the agreed-upon time.

The boys went off to their golf game, and the girls drag Juliet along the bustling New York streets for the most important shopping day of her life.

“Oh Jules, look at that!” Jean gushes from her place beside her friend, pointing to a lace and tulle fascinator displayed in a boutique window.

Giggling, they descend upon the boutique, searching through the merchandise with girlish delight.

“Remind me, what does your dress look like, Jules?” Jo asks, picking through a selection of white gloves.

“Mama’s fixing up her own dress for me,” Juliet says with a wistful sigh, “I’ve always loved it. Ivory satin, gorgeous full skirt, pearls on the bodice…”

“Oh, it sounds lovely,” Val smiles, “Don’t you think, Vika?”

Vika glances up from where she’s fiddling with the lace of a fascinator, looking almost surprised to be included in the conversation even after several months of being embraced as a part of their little group.

“Hm? Oh!” She smiles shyly, “Yes, it sounds beautiful, Jules.”

“Oooh, what about this?” Olive holds up a truly ostentatious floral headdress bursting with tulle, “It’ll go perfectly with your bouquet.”

“I think that might be a bit much for Johnny.” Juliet laughs, glancing to make sure the woman who’d greeted them as they walked in is still busy helping another customer before whispering, “Is that what people wear to weddings in the future?”

“Not quite,” Olive giggles, “But you’re right, let’s find something else.”

“Jules,” Vika calls from a secluded corner of the store, “What about this?”

Juliet and Olive exchange a glance and follow her voice to the rest of the girls examining a selection of hats. Vika is standing next to a sweet ivory pillbox hat, a tulle veil attached at the top beneath a cluster of pearls.

Juliet is speechless.

“Isn’t it perfect?” Vika asks, brown eyes sparkling.

“It is,” Juliet squeals, rushing over to pick it up.

The girls cluster around a nearby mirror as she tries it on, and squeals of “gorgeous!” and “oh, you look beautiful, Jules!” echo out from their little corner of the boutique, tapering off awkwardly at the glares of the other customers.

Juliet laughs as she takes it off, then blanches when she sees the price tag.

“Well… it is gorgeous, but maybe we can find something else.” She says regretfully as she places it back on the display.

“What? No!” Jean frowns, “Honey, you’ve waited so long for this, you deserve it!”

“Jean, you’re sweet, but I just don’t have enough to be spending like that right now,” Juliet explains, “Come on, I’m sure we can find another option.”

Even as she says it and turns away, her eyes drift longingly back to the hat waiting on the shelf, settling there for just a moment before Juliet shakes herself and begins wandering back through the store.

There’s a series of whispers behind her, which Juliet assumes is the girls figuring out which section to peruse next, and the future Mrs. Brady finds herself back in front of the fascinators, trying to muster up the same enthusiasm she had when she first walked in.

“Jules?” Vika’s voice comes from behind her, and she jumps.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Her friend says apologetically, “ But, well… I think we’re ready to go if you are.”

Juliet turns, seeing the girls clustered behind Vika with poorly hidden smiles and a small hatbox held in Jean’s arms.

“Oh girls, you didn’t…”

“We all chipped in.” Jo beams.

“You deserve it, chicken,” Olive says, “It’s your wedding.”

A swell of emotion rises in Juliet’s chest, and it’s all she can do to squeak out a soft “I love you girls” before pulling them into a group hug.

“So do the two of you have a plan for after the wedding?” Jo asks as they stroll down to yet another boutique.

“I’m sure they do,” Olive says, eyebrows waggling.

“Oh hush!” Jo scolds with a playful swat to Olive’s arm, “Not like that. Jules, you know what I mean.”

Juliet nods, the blush at Olive’s comment fading in favor of a brilliant smile threatening to overtake her.

“There’s the sweetest little house for sale a few streets away from us,” she gushes, “Johnny’s been saving up, and his mother and my parents have offered to pitch in as well.”

“That’s very kind of them,” Jean says, “I can’t imagine how excited you must be— I remember how much I was looking forward to starting a life with Bing.”

“I am…”

Despite the joy in her voice, Juliet’s smile has dimmed the slightest bit.

 “I am, it’s just…”

The girls pause, identical frowns on their faces as they drift over to an awning over a dark storefront and wait patiently for Juliet to find the words.

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel real?” She finally says, her voice distant and soft, fingers worrying at the ring snug on her finger, “Like… like I’m in this wonderful dream, and at some point I’m going to wake up and he’ll be back in that place, and I’m alone again—”

“Oh, honey.”

Jo and Jean are the first to wrap their arms around her, the ones who know exactly how she feels— even after all the hoping and praying that their boys would come home safe, they knew that once they were home it took time to remember they were home for good now, that they were finally allowed to stop worrying and focus on the future ahead.

The girls said as much as they held their friend, trying to impart as much comfort as they could.

“Oh goodness,” Jules lets out a watery laugh, carefully brushing away the tears threatening to spill over and doing her best not to smudge her makeup, “I’m sorry, girls, this was supposed to be a fun day…”

“No, Jules, you have nothing to apologize for,” Olive assures her, “We’re all adjusting to life now that the war’s over, this is part of it. You and John will work through what you have to and build a beautiful life together, I just know it.”

Juliet shoots a grateful smile at the girls surrounding her, gratitude for the friendships they’d formed in such a dark time warming her to her core.

With one final squeeze, she returns to the subject that had gotten them on this path as they continue onward.

“You all absolutely have to come over once we’re all moved in, I’m dying to play hostess for you girls…”

They arrive at dinner promptly at six, the boys already waiting outside for them.

“Did you boys have a good time?” Juliet asks, already beaming as she brushes a chaste kiss to her fiancé’s lips.

“We did,” he smiles into the kiss, “How was your shopping trip? Can I have a peek?”

He makes a show of trying to peek into the hatbox in Juliet’s hands as she playfully swats him away.

“Absolutely not, John Brady, this is for mine and the girls’ eyes only until the wedding.”

“As you wish,” he says, the teasing sparkle in his eyes visibly softening at the mention of their wedding, “I know you’ll look beautiful no matter what, sweetheart.”

She rewards his tender words with another kiss as girls store their purchases safely in their respective vehicles, and the group heads in for dinner.

As promised, the girls chatter away about their shopping day, the boys doing their best to look interested, and vice versa when the topic turns to the boys’ golf game. The one quieter spot at the table is thanks to Benny and Vika— despite the orchestrations of Val and Jules to have them sit together, the two of them are still too shy to do more than say hello to each other when they’re surrounded by the excited conversation of their friends. 

Jules catches Val hiss something in Italian to Benny, to which he hisses something in return and redirects his attention to Rosie’s story about the fifth hole.

“How are they doing?” John whispers in her ear, his eyes flicking over to their mostly silent friends.

She shakes her head.

“Looks like still nothing yet,” she whispers back, “but Vika made it sound like they had a very nice time on the way back from the engagement dinner… oh I do wish they’d just talk to each other already.”

“Benny’ll come around,” he assures her, the comforting weight of his hand coming to rest on her knee— nothing improper of course, just letting her know he’s there.

Dinner flies by, aided by laughter and easy conversation, and before she knows it, her Johnny’s dropping her off back at home.

“You’re sure I can’t have just one tiny peek?” He whines once more as he shifts the car into park and she retrieves the hatbox from the backseat.

“No, Johnny,” Juliet replies, doing her best to bite back her smile in an attempt to look scolding and failing utterly, “I promise you’ll see it soon.”

“Soon,” he hums, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze and then tugging her in for a tender kiss.

It’s her turn to beam as he pulls away, warmth filling her as she realizes how soon soon really is.

Still, all she says is “I love you, drive safe, give my love to your mother,” before heading inside her childhood home, a piece of her future tucked inside the box in her arms.

It’s a balmy Saturday afternoon when Juliet takes the car to visit the Brady home. Wedding planning on top of both John and her planning for the upcoming school year has meant their time together is painfully limited, no matter how they try to find time to work together, and frankly? Juliet misses him.

So, an impromptu visit it is.

Armed with a tupperware of her mother’s chocolate chip cookies, she strides up the walk and knocks three times on the blue door, beaming as it opens to reveal Mrs. Alice Brady.

But instead of her usual cheerful smile, John’s mother seems more anxious than she’s seen her since John came home, and concern starts to whirl in the pit of Juliet’s stomach.

“Hello, Mrs. Brady, I— oh. Is everything alright?” 

“Hello, sweetheart,” Mrs. Brady puts on a far weaker version of her usual smile, “I’m sorry, John’s… he isn’t doing too well at the moment, honey—”

“What happened?” Juliet interrupts, her mind jumping to the worst possible scenarios.

Mrs. Brady appears torn, her mouth soundlessly opening and closing until she finally speaks again.

“He was helping me organize his father’s study… I— I dropped a book clearing off one of the bookshelves, and—” she takes a breath, forcing herself to continue, “He seems fine physically for the most part, but…” there’s a hint of fear in her eyes as she continues hesitantly, and the pit in Jules’s stomach grows, “he was shaking, he looked terrified, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t get him to recognize me.”

Jules’s hand flies to her mouth, doing her best to comprehend the situation.

“He seemed to be having some kind of attack, but I can’t help but think…” Alice Brady’s eyes meet Juliet’s, almost pleading now, “Maybe seeing you might help?”

”I… are you sure?”

“Absolutely, Juliet.” Mrs. Brady nods, “He may have missed me, but it wasn’t me he was fighting to come home to so he could propose. I have a feeling you’ll be able to help him through this in a way I can’t.”

With one last sad flicker of a smile, John’s mother leads Juliet through the house to the study that used to belong to Mr. Brady.

Her heart drops as she sees John crouched in a defensive position, blue eyes wild and unseeing, his breaths shallow as his eyes dart around the room looking for some unknown threat.

“Johnny,” she breathes, willing her voice not to break as she approaches him slowly. “Sweetheart?”

He stiffens at the sound but still doesn’t seem to recognize her and it’s breaking her heart to see him like this.

“Johnny,” she breathes again, using slow steady movements to crouch in front of him, “It’s me, honey, it’s Juliet. Your Jules.”

Maybe touching him would help—

It decidedly does not, as he flinches away from her, a sharp, gruff “no!” escaping him when she places a hand on his arm as if she’d brandished a gun in front of him.

Okay, different tactic.

“Can you look at me, Johnny?” She tries, pulling back and thinking for a moment before slowly brushing her fingertips to his.

It’s a soft enough touch that it doesn’t startle him, but it still hasn’t pulled him out of… whatever this attack is.

“Please—” she swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she slowly, inch by inch, threads their fingers together, “Please, Johnny, it’s me, it’s Jules, please look at me—”

He’s still shaking, but his shallow breathing is slowly returning to normal as he blinks, eyes focusing once more on what’s in front of him.

“Johnny?” She says softly, squeezing his hand gently, trying to ground him.

“Jules?” He breathes distractedly, as if labeling the person in front of him rather than speaking to her.

And then the realization hits, and there’s a sharp inhale as he jerks away.

“Oh, God— oh, God, no, you shouldn’t have— when did you—”

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” She asks frantically, trying to get him to meet her eyes.

He’s shaking his head frantically, “What are you doing here, you weren’t supposed to— you can’t see me like this—”

It’s that last part that hits her. That makes her realize this isn’t the first time this has happened.

“This… Johnny, this has happened before?”

“It’s nothing,” he practically spits, refusing to meet her eyes, “just… remembering things from that place, I’m— I’m working on it, I swear.”

That place, she knows, is the stalag. Neither of them have been able to say the word yet, but a trailed off sentence or indeed, that place, shoved in just the right spot and they know what the other means.

“My love,” Juliet says hesitantly, having some idea of what his reaction to this suggestion will be. Still, she persists.

“If you feel like you need to talk about it— I don’t know what happened, but—”

Johnny’s definitely avoiding her eyes now as he says in a low, forceful tone— his voice is distant still, but not as if it’s lost in memory in some far off place, no; this is the detached voice of someone shoving their emotions deep, deep down— “We were stuck there for… for far too long. It wasn’t good. Now I’m home. That’s it.”

Juliet nods, recognizing when to step back even as she murmurs, “I know, sweetheart. But if you ever do want to talk about it… I’m here. I don’t want you to worry about scaring me or anything,” she adds, knowing that that’s at least part of why he avoids this topic with her, “All that matters is that we work through this together. Whenever you’re ready.”

He gives her a wordless nod, and the two of them are left to sit in silence, hands intertwined, until Mrs. Brady comes bustling in with a glass of water.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathes a sigh of relief once she sees her son, promptly fussing over him “Are you alright, sweetheart? Here, drink this— let’s get you settled in the chair here—”

John is moved to a soft, squishy dark green armchair nearby, doing his best to calm his mother’s nerves.

“I’m fine, Ma, I promise—”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, me and my butterfingers did this—”

“Ma, it’s not your fault, really—”

“Mrs. Brady,” Juliet interrupts, gently placing a hand over Mrs. Brady’s nervously fluttering ones, “he’s okay. It’s alright.” 

John's mother lets out a long exhale, taking a moment before giving Juliet’s hands a grateful squeeze. “Yes. Thank you, darling.”

“Always,” Juliet smiles, her demeanor softening as her gaze drifts from Alice to John.

Always. She’s about to start her always with him, and if she’s honest? It’s a little nerve wracking, thinking about that after what just happened. Not in a bad way, of course, just… it’s going to be an adjustment, navigating what her Johnny brought back from the war with him.

He made it back, she reminds herself, that’s all that matters. 

They’ll work through what they have to, like Olive said, and then… she has forever to be with him. Home and safe and together.

“You alright, sweetheart?” John murmurs, brows furrowing at her silence.

She blinks, then gives him a smile that she hopes conveys even an ounce of the love she feels for him right now.

“I’m fine, Johnny,” she assures him, “I just remembered I brought cookies. And you look like you could use one.”

“The chocolate chip ones your mother makes?” John brightens, eyes lighting up like a child in a candy store.

“They’re in the kitchen, I’ll get them,” Mrs. Brady chimes in, leaving them to try to smother their giggles as they catch a mumble of “as if he didn’t eat the last of my snickerdoodles just yesterday, this boy…”

The moment his mother is gone, John wordlessly draws her into his lap, his arms wrapping around her and squeezing ever so slightly

“You sure you’re alright, darling?” Juliet asks, snuggling into him as he pulls her close..

The smile that greets her as she looks up at him isn’t quite the same one that she knew before he was shipped off. It isn’t stretched quite so wide, doesn’t reach his eyes in the same way. 

But she smiles back just the same as he assures her, “I’m perfect, Jules.”

“Now, are you sure you’re alright?”

She takes a moment to consider it and decides that right here, in her fiancé’s arms, mere weeks from marrying him…

“I’m perfect, too, Johnny.”

[wizardnuke]

important aspect of shadowgast To Me is that caleb thinks it's cute when essek's being a bitch and visa versa

[whosthere54]

There is an air around the things Icarus says in the final streams. They’re self aware, they aren’t stupid, they know exactly what they’re doing and what will happen in result of that.

They know that what they are doing is hurting everyone they care about. They’ve said that they know what they’re doing is wrong. But they’re doing it to fix things, to fix their mistakes.

Nobody would have to like them after that, they know that nobody would want to be around them with how much they’ve done. It’s easier to isolate themselves now than be faced with the realization later. They know that everyone will be angry, but when they’re done, when it’s all *done* everyone will have their family back. Centross will be back, Jamie will be back, they could even hope for momboo. Everyone they care about.

They all deserve that.

Icarus doesn’t.

Icarus had their best friend, and why would he want to be around them after what they did?

Atleast Rae would have his best friend back. Wolf and Ocea would have her partner. Oscar would have their dad.

They would all hate Icarus for it, and they know that.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt still.

It doesn’t mean that can’t wish it all turned out different, that they could be happy.

Their story is a tragedy after all, and they’re still drowning with the realization.

[conivolos]

i need to shift back into aelar mode

[quinloki]

Canon Characters vs OC vs x Reader

Disclaimer: This is just my two cents, and my perspective on things, and I'm not trying to lay down the law for everyone. I needed to just put this to words though, in order to sleep.

I was thinking about this because of a post I saw, and some, we'll say, kind of useless comments associated with the post. Mean-spirited stuff.

Normally, in one ear and out the other, but the vibes just kicked me off down a rabbit hole of sorts an I wanted to try to put some of my thoughts to words.

First, some style vibes:

Canon x Canon Canon/Canon stories are, to me, like reading an episode of that show. I'm sitting down in front of a TV or whatever, and I'm experiencing the story As A Viewer. I like this style because I don't really have to expend much energy and I just kind of roll with whatever's happening. Generally some sort of 3rd person perspective.

OC x canon OC/Canon stories are like being on a carnival ride. I'm sitting in a car on a roller-coaster, and maybe the OC is sitting next me. I'm experiencing the story more deeply than strictly canon stories, but my connection with the OC is no deeper than say, my connection with Katniss Everdeen when I read The Hunger Games. Sometimes 3rd person, sometimes first person.

Reader x canon Reader/Canon (or Reader x/ OC) is like putting on a VR helmet. I don't get much physical input about the "Reader OC" because I'm experiencing the story through their eyes. I don't expect the reader to be me, but there's a bigger feeling of immersion to be had. Some description might happen cause it's relevant to the story, and it's still a type of ride, I can't jump the rails on the roller coaster, after all. (Even with a VN you still follow the tracks). Sometimes first person, sometimes second person (I'm partial to 2nd person perspective, but that's just me).

I love Fan Fiction, I love it. All of it, and man even more than anything, what I love is that I'm going to dislike 80% of it. Because that 80% was written for someone who is not me. (Hell, that number's probably closer to 99% if we're looking at ALL fandoms, but I digress).

Second - The VENT:

What got me the most in the post that prompted this, was someone saying "Bring back the Mary Sue OCs!" and then they went on to describe something more detailed, and I just -

Look, respectfully, fuck you.

The point is, you're not going to be happy no matter what. Whether it's "mary sue" OCs, or x readers, or alternative universes, or a ship you don't like, you're going to find something to be unhappy about.

Cause people have been bitching about all styles of fan fiction since the first "You've Got Mail" chimed in 1991. And until 1998 and ff.net you really had to hunt for it, and until 2007 and Ao3 the idea of tagging a fic for any reason wasn't really a thing. Every click was a surprise! \o/

I just have seen the same song and dance a dozen times. It's exhausting. People become okay with OCs and decide x readers are the enemy, and before that OCs were *all* Mary Sues and cringe and people who made OCs were the enemy, and before OCs people who wrote even a little OOC were the enemy, and people who wrote AUs were the enemy, and you can write fan fic but it HAS to be Canon Compliant, and everyone MUST be in-character at all times - "They would not fucking say that" was the enemy.

Look, just please - please - in any capacity, stop it with the "All X style of story telling is crap" mindset. There's over a dozen different ways to do x readers alone. I know 20 x reader writers and I don't think any of us have the same style, preferences, or vibes.

I've had a lot of comments along the lines of "I thought I hated x readers, but I really loved this." on a few different fics I've written. Sometimes it's not the style of the fic, sometimes it's the style of the writer, and my Brother In Christ - you're going to have to read some awful shit to shuffle through the thousands of writers out there to find the vibes that resonate with you.

Ostracizing entire swathes of fan fic because you need something to be "The Enemy" so you can lift up something else, and then bitching you can't find anything new to read seems like a personal problem.

And I know y'all are scrolling by TONS of posts that don't interest you, every day, as a matter of course. So don't give me that "clogging up the tag" BS, because we deserve to be here same as anyone else in the fandom.