#juliet x oliver

[honeyedache]

location: the thorpe drawing room, before the ball featuring: @secretgcrdens

It took a few hours to ready the beautiful Thorpe Lady for the debutante gala that night. It had been Juliet's dream, her desires, ever since she could remember when she was a small girl. It had meant everything to her, to be debuted as a noble woman out for breeding - and the exquisite nature of Lady Juliet was something that many men would pick up on. Juliet stood on a small stool, out for all to see, as they preened and prepped her, fluffing her perfect dress, her long blonde curls - she looked like a dream. It was then the dining room doors opened to reveal Mister Oliver Heywood, a butler of the house - and a man that sent Juliet's heart crashing and knees weak at the knees. For as prim and beautiful as Juliet was - a woman of society - she could not tear herself away from the magnetism she felt for Oliver. A playful smirk rested upon pink lips, happy to be on full display for him before the ball.

"Doesn't our darling Lady Juliet look absolutely stunning, Mister Heywood?" One of her fawning maids preened over her, and Juliet felt herself blush, eyes catching with his.

"Be right back, my lady - more ribbons for your hair." The woman servant told her, leaving Oliver and Juliet alone. Her eyes searched for his as she smirked, that familiar, magnetic lovely little smile only reserved for him.

"Is that what you think, Mister Heywood? That I look absolutely stunning?" She stepped down from the stool, waiting for his response. "I am of the most thrilled to see you, darling."

[strawberrybyers]

it’s the way everyone saw oliver’s red flags but felix ignored what everyone said and decided to still be oliver’s friend. like ok yeah i get how felix is used to people being subservient to him and if they’re not then he disposes of them, but what felix felt for oliver was different. I KNOW A PART OF HIM LOVED OLIVER TOO. he enjoyed caring for oliver. he enjoyed his company. he left the fucking bathroom door open so oliver could see him jerking off like bro you don’t just do that with a friend that you don’t have romantic or sexual feelings for. it’s the fact that even after finding out the truth about oliver’s parents—he still let him stay so he could celebrate his birthday. IM SORRY BUT IF I FOUND OUT MY FRIEND WHO HAS BEEN LIVING WITH ME FOR WEEKS LIED ABOUT THEIR ENTIRE UPBRINGING THEY’RE GETTING LEFT RIGHT AT THEIR PARENTS HOUSE. it’s the fact that felix still cared!! he said oliver makes his blood run cold and that’s because finding out the person you love and care for isn’t who they say they are instills a type of fear, sadness, and anger in you that you’ve never felt before!! not to fucking mention that there’s a reference of being cold-blooded made by venetia to oliver. she refers to the entire catton family as being “cold-blooded”. if felix was cold-blooded, meaning he’s filled with cruelty and unsympathetic , then for him to say oliver makes his blood run cold means he was different with oliver. he notices the change oliver had on him!! he loved and cared for him. idc felix and oliver were in love and oliver’s obsession/manipulativeness poisoned (literally and figuratively) felix which is why their relationship had no chance of being anything except a tragedy.

[winniemaywebber]

It's Been A Long, Long Time: Lover, Come Back

Harry Crosby x Jean Crosby

There's a surprise waiting in the mail for Jean Crosby - the news of her husband returning home a four week furlough. How ever much happiness this brings her, she must contend with the sadness of her best friend and roommate, Jo, who is facing the harsh realities of her own sweetheart, Rosie, reupping rather than returning home to her.

A warm evening breeze sweeps past Jean and Josephine as they begin the short walk home from the bus stop. It was finally Friday, the two girls looking forward to a couple days of rest over the weekend. They liked to keep one weekend a month free of any plans, where they could just laze about the house in their pajamas and rejuvenate before entering the workforce reality again on Monday morning - this weekend, the final one of June, was the one they’d chosen for the month, both of them greatly looking forward to it.

As they approach the brown brick house in the middle of a neat cul-de-sac, Jean spots the flag at mast on the mailbox. “Get the mail, doll,” she smirks, knowing Jo was practically chomping at the bit for the next letter from her love. Robert Rosenthal had just re-upped, separating the couple for much longer than Jo had initially envisioned, the subject always covered with disdain and sharp words whenever it was brought up. Jean knew by now to avoid it unless Jo herself sounded off about it.

With a heavy sigh, she silently hands the stack of mail to her companion after quickly rifling through it, hoping to spot that familiar scrawled penmanship on an envelope. “Not today,” Jo says through subtly gritted teeth, holding her hand out for the keys and unlocking the door before throwing her purse on to the telephone table. “It’s been two weeks, what on Earth could he be doing? Do you think the letter simply got lost?”

“No, dear,” she sighs. “You know mail has been a little slow lately, maybe it’s just taking its time to get here from England.”

“You don’t think…” she gulps, pausing with the fear that grips her throat, “you don’t think he’s the one that is lost, do you?”

“Goodness, Jo, darling,” Jean comforts, wrapping her arm around her friend’s heaving shoulders as she sits down on one of the dining chairs. “Sweetheart, you know Binger would contact us at the first sign of any trouble like that, hm?”

“I guess,” Jo shrugs. “Get it over with then. What do you have?”

Jean flips through the envelopes, spotting the only other handwriting that’s familiar to her. Jo sees it too, her eyes widening with fear as they fill with tears.

“Now, doll,” Jean says, trying her best to keep a calm voice. “I’m sure it’s just him writing to me to tell me the goings on on base. Breathe, Josephine.”

“Mhm,” she nods, her brow furrowed with the effort of speaking through a closed throat. Jean tears the letter from its envelope and begins to read.

“Mrs Crosby,

I’ll be on my way home to you next week. I’ll be with you for four weeks and I can hardly wait.

See you in New York.

Binger.”

Jean’s mouth drops open, trying to formulate words that won’t come out.

“Well?” Jo urges, eyes darting across her friend’s face to gauge any emotion. “What is it?!”

“He’s–he’s…”

“Spit it out, Mrs Croz.”

“He’s coming home!” Jean squeals, the information finally sinking in and causing her to emphatically jump up and down, her heels clacking on the kitchen floor. It’s when she stops to smile at Jo that she sees her face fall, hand on her chest to steady the ragged breaths she’s pushing from her body. “Jo? Oh, darling. Come here.”

“Should be me hugging you, not the other way around,” she sobs, dampening Jean’s dress. She gulps and sniffs, Jean pulling a chair from the head of the table to sit next to her. “I’m sorry, I really am happy for you, it’s just–”

“I wasn’t being fair,” she says with a shake of her head. “Being that excited wasn’t right of me.”

“No! You should be excited; you’re about to see your husband after two years. It’s just…I don’t know, Jean. I’m so…”

“Angry?”

“Yes!” she blurts out, wiping at her face angrily. “How could he sacrifice the future we’ve been planning together because he’s just so prideful? It makes me so mad. So disgustingly mad.”

“I know,” Jean soothes, holding Jo’s head to her. “But at least you’ll worry less with Bing around.”

“How?” Jo replies, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“He won’t lie to you. He’ll tell you what’s what. The truth about how Robert is truly coping.”

“That’ll help, I guess, but–”

“But you’d rather have him home,” Jean interjects. “To dance with at Minton’s and go home together.”

Jo nods sadly, fresh tears springing into her eyes. “I just want my Robbie home with me,” she weeps, whimpering like a small child.

“I know, darling. I know.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” Jo sniffs. “I really am happy for you, Jean. When will he be here?”

Jean pulls the letter out again, eyes rushing over the words. “Next week,” she nods. “Wants me to meet him in the city.”

Jo looks over at the note in her hand, scanning over it herself. She inhales, bracing herself for the reaction to what she’s about to suggest. “I’ll call Jules in the morning.”

“Whatever for?” Jean screeches, eyes narrowing.

“I can’t be here while you and Harry, you know…” she pauses, lips purse to try and hold in a juvenile giggle. “Make up for lost time.”

Jean releases the most girlish little giggle that causes Jo to break into the same laughter, the two girls holding each other as the amusement peels off them.

“While you’re correct - we absolutely will be doing that - it isn’t fair that you should have to go somewhere else. This is your home, Jo.”

“I’ll come right back after Harry has returned, mark my words. But, I don’t want to hear, well…all that making up for lost time!”

“No, no, I get it. You have to promise me you’ll come home though. Please?”

“Darling, I promise. Aside from Robbie, you are my person.”

“And you’re mine, too.”

***

With a heavy sigh, Jean exits her eerily empty house. When she had asked Jo to move in with her all those months ago, she could never have imagined an outcome where she was alone again after so long. Part of her understood why Jo had left, agreeing with the idea that the Crosbys needed some much deserved alone time after much time apart. However, the part that she hated was this; the underlying, constant loneliness until Bing was home with her again.

Josephine had kept to her word, calling Jules the day after the pair had received Jean’s good news. She had also received a call from Vika - the girl now an integral part of their little group since they’d met at the beach - offering Josephine a few nights at her family’s hotel.

“It’ll be like a holiday,” Vika had teased, sipping at a weak martini. “It’ll be fun, a way for us to get to know each other a little better.” Jo had agreed emphatically, Jean even spending a night there with her to have a little time with the girls before the big day.

Jean spots the girls waiting at the bus stop the moment the brakes of the vehicle hiss, them all waving at one another so enthusiastically that Jean is sure all their arms may drop off. They greet one another with a girlish, juvenile squeal, the girls pulling Jean into a tight embrace. Shouts of “Hi, Mrs Crosby!” and “Eeee, the big day is tomorrow,” echo across the busy city streets as they begin their jaunt to their favorite dress shop.

***

“Remind me again which ones you liked best in the magazine?” Jo asks as she picks through racks of beautiful dresses. She finds one that Jean falls in love with instantly: a mulberry swing dress with a sweetheart neckline.

“I don’t think I need to,” Jean exhales, taking the dress from her friend. “This is gorgeous.”

“So very you, my girl,” she smiles, going back to the rack in front of her. The hangars scrape as she leafs through, a furrow upon her concentrated brow. “Is it too premature to find one for when Robbie comes home?”

Jules seems to have the same idea, rifling through a discount rack at the back of the store as Jean scouts around to find where the dressing rooms are located. Jules holds a dress up to her body, sashaying this way and that in front of Vika.

“What do you think?” she asked, a worried tone to her voice.

“Hm, not really your color, Juliet. How about…” Vika rifles through the rack herself, finding a beautiful light green a-line dress that she knows will compliment her friend perfectly. “This?”

“Vika, you’re a dream,” she compliments, admiring how the color brings out her eyes. “Aren’t you looking for something?”

“Me?” she laughs, shaking her head. “I don’t have a sweetheart to dress up for, you know that.”

“Why don’t we find you one?” Jean asks, pulling the velvet curtain back on an unoccupied stall. “I’m sure one of the boys’ friends will be raring to have a date with you.”

“My goodness, yes!” Jo replies, eyes lighting up for the first time in a week. “Say, who was the man Olive mentioned in her first letter to you, Jules? Douglass and someone? Benjamin?”

“Bernard. Benny Demarco.”

“That’s the one!”

“I’m sure he’d love that. He’s with Johnny right now…” At the mention of his name, the reminder of where he is waiting out the remainder of this dreadful war, Jules suddenly lets out a little weep. “Sorry, girls, it’s just…sometimes I just forget and it all comes flooding back to me.”

“Oh, darling,” Jo coos, holding her. “I understand.”

“We all do,” Jean squeaks, making herself scarce behind the heavy drape. Once in there, she herself lets a thick cry escape her throat, covering her mouth to muffle the sound. Of course she understands; those endless nights without her husband, waiting for a phone call or a sweet love letter - though those had become scarce these last few months. She can’t stop the tears falling down her rouged cheeks, mascara falling down her face in thick, black trails as she pulls her chosen gown on her tense body.

“Jean?” Jo calls, her voice still wavering with emotion.

“Yeah?” Jean croaks in reply, her voice cracking again. “Be right out.”

Before she can wipe her face and make her exit, Jo scrapes back the curtain to find her friend in a hell of a mess: eyes puffy and swollen, lips red from where she had bitten them to keep the wails at bay, a stress rash attacking her pale neck. “Jean, whatever is it?”

“I don’t know, I just feel–I feel like an imposter. And I feel like I’ve let you all down and–”

“Oh my goodness, darling, come here.” Jo scoops Jean up from almost falling, sitting down with her on the dressing room floor.

“I feel like I’ve failed you all.”

“Now, what on Earth are you talking about?”

“Here’s me saying I understand how you and Jules feel, yet what are we here for? To find me a pretty dress for my husband’s furlough. I feel like I just should keep my mouth shut. I feel so unfair towards you both and–”

“Now, Jean, that’s enough,” Jo replies sternly. “You are not to feel this way, do you understand? We are so happy for you, can’t you see that?” Jean nods, sniffing and wiping her tears away. “Of course we are a little envious - as would you be if it was Robbie coming home, not your Bing. The same would be said for if John were still with the fellas and he got furlough. You see?” There is a pause as Jean nods along, trying to formulate a sentence without her voice faltering. “While I am excited to see Croz, I do wish it were Robbie. I keep thinking about the life we were meant to start and he chose–”

It is Jean’s turn to comfort her friend, holding her close as they both weep together. “Look at the state of us,” Jean laughs, sniffling. “What a sight.”

“Yeah, well,” Jo weeps, pulling a handkerchief from her purse. “Nobody else I’d rather cry with, hon.”

“Me, too.”

“You’re my other half, Jean. Robbie is absolutely my soul mate, but you? Well, I thank this ghastly war for putting us together. You’re my person, Mrs Crosby. I am so blissfully happy for you.”

“Ditto. Jo?”

“Yes?”

“Love you.”

“Softie…I love you, too.”

***

Jean almost collapses all over again when she hears the price of the dress. After she and Jo had calmed down, Jo had buttoned her into it. It had fit her like a glove, the material clinging to her perfectly. “Jean!” Jo had gasped, hands on her cheeks. “You’ve got to have it!”

Now checking out, the price had taken Mrs Crosby aback just a tad. Rummaging in her purse for extra cash, Jo pointedly lays down a stack of notes. “Had a bit of a whip round,” she winks, placing a hand on top of Jean’s to stop her panicking. “It’s from all of us.”

“Josephine!” she gasps, clinging to her. “And girls, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, doll,” Jules replies. “I know Harry will fall to his knees the moment he sees you in that. Dare I say, you won’t be wearing it for long.”

“Juliet!” Vika urges, giggling nonetheless.

“What? Am I wrong?”

“Let’s hope not!” Jean replies, taking the dress’ garment bag from the teller. “Come on, I need a drink.”

***

The girls arrive back at Vika's family’s hotel just before nightfall, Jean carefully uncovering the hidden martini ingredients from her suitcase. “Sure is hard to keep cocktail making quiet,” she laughs as there is a sudden rap on the door.

“Shit,” Juliet giggles, stashing the bottles under the blankets. The four of them laugh like schoolgirls at a sleepover, Jean laying across the smuggled alcohol as Vika answers the door, shushing her friends.

“You need to stop!” she whispers, trying to be stern but the tone is cracked with a fit of giggles, Vika covering her mouth to stifle the laughter. “Girls, stop it, I’m going to crack a rib!” She waves her hand in front of them all, them all hushing immediately.

“Mammi,” she greets, her voice going an octave higher.

“Ruthvika,” she says, nodding towards the girls. “Please remember to keep it down, yes? We still have guests.”

“Yes, mammi, of course.”

Mrs Patel looks between her daughter and the girls, beginning to speak in Gujarati as her glance carries on going between them all. “Okay?” she finishes, walking towards the door. Vika nods again, running to open the door for her.

“Goodnight, Mrs Patel,” the girls all chorus, their warmth seeming to envelope the room. Jean can see that Vika feels it, her body seeming to relax the moment they speak.

“Goodnight, girls,” she replies, smiling at them.

Vika closes the door before leaning against it, exhaling and holding her chest dramatically. “That was close.”

“Sure was, doll,” Jules giggles, the bottles clanging as she pulls the blanket back. “Now, who’s up for a drink? We need to have one for our Mrs Crosby, who we are so excited for.”

“We certainly are,” Jules replies, holding on to Jean’s hand and grinning at her. “We love you, Mrs Croz. Truly.”

“And I love you all, too. So much.”

***

“This is it,” Jo says, as she and the group hear the whistle of a train in the distance. “Now, have you got everything?”

“I think so,” Jean replies, her voice tiny, tight and anxious. She chews at the inside of her mouth with worry, the nausea beginning to settle in with each moment the train draws closer.

“Enough of that, Mrs Croz,” Jo scolds as she sees her friend's eyes glaze over and continuously bite her lips. “You'll make yourself bleed.”

“Speaking of having everything,” Jules perks up, “do you have a book for the journey, doll?”

“I don't,” she squeaks, remembering the rushed packing she had done days ago. “I didn't even think of anything like that.”

“Well, luckily for you, I did!” She triumphantly smiles, pulling a small paperback out of her purse. “Thought you'd enjoy this one. It's one of my favorites - Olive’s too.”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” Jean reads, stroking the titled cover. “Thank you, Juliet. So much.”

“And this is from Mammi,” Vika joins, handing her a small paper bag. “In case you get hungry on the way.”

“Oh, girls. Thanks ever so.”

The four of them look between one another, an awkward silence hanging in the air as Jean and Jo catch each other's eye.

“Come on, Ruthie,” Jules says, taking her by the arm. “Let's go wait inside, yes?”

“Fantastic idea. Bye, Jean!”

With Jean and Jo left alone for the first time in days, it takes everything in Jean to not break out into sobs. A moment of silence passes between them, the pair seemingly lost for words for the first time their entire friendship. Jean opens her mouth to say something, distracted by Jo pulling her into a tight hug.

“Have the most wonderful time, Mrs Croz.”

“Jo…I–I'm so sorry.”

“Enough of that, darling. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“But…”

“No buts, lady. I'll see you soon, okay?”

“I'll miss you so much.”

“I'll miss you, too. But, believe me, this is a good thing,” she sighs, pulling out of the hug, but keeping her hands on Jean’s shoulders. “For both of us.”

“All aboard!”

Jo hands Jean her suitcases, Jean planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Love you, doll.”

“Love you more.”

***

The train carriage feels stiflingly hot, Jean removing every layer she possibly can while trying her best to look calm. Her jacket is flung onto the seat next to her, followed by her silk scarf and pretty gloves, sweat dripping down her back and making her unable to get comfortable in the plush seat. She tells herself to try and keep breathing, taking shaky inhales and exhaling them as the train chugs on. Jean pays no mind to the scenery zooming past. It has all suddenly become so real, the reality weighing on her that she is about to see her husband for the first time in years.

Would he still love her? she wonders, as she pulls the book Jules gave her from her bag. Would he still think she’s pretty? Would he even be the same man? She wasn’t the same woman, that much was certain - she felt she had grown in great strides since he had shipped out, learning so much about herself in the time they had been apart.

The words begin to blur together on the page, Jean barely able to make a sentence string together in her mind by the time the train stops. The conductor calls out their location: “This is Grand Central Station. This stop is Grand Central Station.”

She feels the nerves bubbling up in her gut, the butterflies causing her to become weak at the knees and she hopes they can hold her up long enough to disembark the train carriage. As her foot touches the ground of the platform, she cranes her head up in the hopes of spotting Bing on the platform, the station seemingly the busiest it’s ever been on today of all days.

It’s when she cuts through a group congregating around a bench that she spots him in the distance - his hair looks different: slicked back to the side, his usually tousled curls combed into some new found submission, not tumbling down his forehead carelessly like they used to. He stands taller, hands less fidgety and his aura less anxious. Jean finds herself frozen to the spot, jagged breaths leaving her parted lips as she takes him in for the first time in what feels like forever. She’s not even sure she recognizes him at first; his sweet face is a little more aged from the stress and horrors he’s endured since leaving for England. But it’s his eyes - those big, brown, downturned cow eyes that send her heart aflutter and make her brain register that it’s really him. Those same eyes light up in recognition, his mouth slightly agape as she sees his chest fall at the sight of her after all these years.

She begins to run, closing the smallest space that’s been between them in years and leaps into his arms.

“Darling,” she weeps, her throat closing as tears fall onto him. “Darling, darling,” she repeats, her arms wound tightly around his neck.

“Jean…oh, Jean,” he murmurs into her, holding her just as tightly. “Let me look at you.”

He places her down on the ground gently, as if he were touching a precious antique. “My goodness, Mrs Crosby,” he says, taking her chin in his hand. “I could just kiss the face off you.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she giggles, the sound cut off by her husband’s mouth capturing hers in a tender kiss, neither of them wanting it to cease.

“I love you,” he murmurs into her mouth, never breaking the affection. “I’m sorry I ever went away.”

“I love you, Binger,” she replies, kissing him over and over, not caring who is watching. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @blakelysco-pilot @hephaestn @manonsmanicmind @derry-rain @bobparkhurst @archival-hogwash @lestweforget5 @butterfly9012 @ptvstvrrr

[sagesolsticewrites]

Love’s Light Wings: Chapter 3 (“There stays a husband to make you a wife”)

John Brady x Juliet Thompson (OFC)

The day has finally arrived! You are cordially invited to the wedding of Captain John Brady and Juliet Thompson— complete with an abundance of tears, joy, nerves, and Jean Crosby’s infamous martinis.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: none, I think? As always, please let me know if I missed anything!

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 I love y’all 💕 here’s to our girlies!

Masterlist | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 

Juliet is already up and bustling about her room when her mother peeks in on the morning of her wedding.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re up already!”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Juliet grins sheepishly, fiddling with the pearl necklace laid out on her vanity, “I was too excited.”

That, she thinks, and the pounding headache she’s had since she woke up several hours ago prevented her from going back to sleep— she’s sincerely regretting that last lemon drop.

“It’s a big day,” Her mother smiles knowingly, “just remember the girls will be here soon.”

“Everything’s set up at the hotel, right?” 

“I just called, they assured me everything’s ready for you girls.”

“And the church—”

“John’s mother and I are going to stop in to check everything before we join you at the hotel, yes.”

“But what about—”

“Sweetheart,” her mother steps forward, taking one hand in her own, “breathe.”

Juliet wants to ask about the rest of the preparations— everything has to be perfect— but she closes her eyes, does as her mother asks, and lets her voice wash over her.

“I know that you have a thousand things running through your mind right now,” she says gently, “But I just want you to take a moment.”

Juliet swallows, feeling pressure build behind her eyes as her mother’s voice grows thick, no doubt becoming teary-eyed herself.

“My baby girl’s getting married today—”

“Mama!” Juliet lets out a watery laugh, tears threatening to overflow as she opens her eyes to see tears streaming down her mother’s cheeks, “No, if you cry I’ll cry, and then we won’t get to the hotel at all!”

“I’m sorry, honey, I’m sorry,” she laughs, brushing her tears away, “I just…”

She trails off with a sigh. “I remember how scared you were when he was gone, sweetheart. How terrified you were the day we got that letter… I was so scared of what it would do to you if your boy didn’t come home.” 

“But,” her mother takes a steadying breath, trying to compose herself, “Now here you are. Ready to build a home of your own with him. A life. And I…” she blinks rapidly, and Juliet can’t help but laugh at her attempt to hold fresh tears at bay, “I’m so, so happy for you, honey.”

Juliet throws her arms around her mother, holding her tight as she tucks her face into her shoulder, curling into her like she did as a child.

“Thank you, Mama,” she murmurs into her robe, crying and smiling and feeling a thousand things at once that all culminate into one fierce spark of love.

With one final squeeze, her mother pulls away.

“I’d better let you get dressed, the girls will be here soon.”

Juliet nods, her hand moving to fiddle with the pearl necklace once more. The long list of things she’s worried about, everything that needs to be done on time for today to run smoothly, is nagging at the back of her mind, but she pushes it back for just a moment.

She’s getting married.

The smile on her face still hasn’t faded by the time cars start to pull up to their driveway, and she can’t hold back a squeal seeing her friends make their way to the front door.

There’s a chorus of greetings between Juliet, her friends, and her parents as they’re ushered inside, her mother rushing off to get coffees for everyone as they settle in the living room.

“How are you feeling after last night?” Olive whispers once Mrs. Thompson is out of earshot.

“Like I need lots and lots of black coffee,” Juliet admits, and her friends’ eyebrows shoot up collectively.

“That bad?” Vika asks, frowning sympathetically at her nod.

“It’s getting better,” she assures them, adding with an excited giggle, “Especially once it hit me what today was.”

“Yes!” Jean exclaims, having experience as the one married member of their little group, “How are you feeling, honey, any nerves?”

Juliet’s fingers twist, fiddling with the emerald ring on her left hand as she tries and fails to bite back a smile.

“I just… I can’t believe it’s really happening,” she admits, “I… I had hoped for so long while he was gone, and even before that, but now that it’s finally here—”

Jo’s arm wraps around her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. Her friend knew intimately how worried Jules had been for Johnny during the war— Jo’s own sweetheart Robert Rosenthal signing up for a second tour while John had been taken prisoner in Germany had led to the two bonding over their worries for their boys an ocean away— and knew exactly how long she had been longing for this day.

“You deserve it, honey,” Olive says, hazel eyes soft as she reaches for her friend’s hand.

Juliet gives it a grateful squeeze. 

“It’ll be your turn next,” she grins.

“Me and Ev first,” Val chimes in, vibrant green eyes sparkling as bright as the emerald on her finger.

Jules nods, letting out a happy sigh.

“I’m so happy for you girls.”

“Who gives a fig about us?” Jo says playfully, though her gaze is soft as it meets Jules’s, “This is your day, Jules.”

Jules opens her mouth to retort that she, in fact, gives a fig— these girls had become as good as family over the past couple years, their joys and sadnesses shared no matter what— when her mother returns with a tray of steaming mugs.

Several cups of coffee (and a slight lessening of her headache) later, they’re whisked off to the hotel in a pile of chatter and giggles.

“Vika, that color is gorgeous on you!” Val gushes as she finally emerges, the last of the girls to change into their pastel green bridesmaid dresses.

“You all look lovely,” Mrs. Brady smiles from her place on the couch, her gentle gaze sweeping over the girls. 

“Not as lovely as she will,” Olive says after the chorus of thank you and so do you Mrs. Brady, nodding over to the screen where Mrs. Thompson is helping Juliet into her wedding dress.

There’s a beat, a moment where her words hang in the air before Mrs. Brady speaks again, her voice soft.

“She’s been good for my Johnny. And for his father and I, when he was…” She trails off, blinking back tears as she composes herself. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without her.”

The room is quiet, the only sound the occasional rustle of fabric or a soft sigh as each girl listens intently.

“I’ve known my boy wanted to marry her since the moment he told me about this girl who dragged him around to every bookstore in Ithaca. Even just hearing him over the phone, I knew he was head over heels,” she laughs. “And then when I finally met her?” 

Mrs. Brady’s eyes go soft, distantly recalling the first time John had brought Juliet Thompson home.

“That’s when I knew she was the one,” she says with a soft laugh, “When I asked her about her studies, she started talking about some sort of assignment she had regarding Shakespeare, and Johnny— who couldn’t have cared less about Shakespeare, or reading anything for that matter— was hanging onto her every word. The look on his face…”

“I’ll be so proud,” Mrs. Brady murmurs, “to call her my daughter.”

“I know she can’t wait to be part of your family,” Jo smiles earnestly.

“He still gets like that when she talks about Shakespeare, Mrs. Brady,“ Olive giggles, “Even on base, we could tell when he’d just gotten one of her letters. Strong, serious Lieutenant Brady walking around with the silliest grin on his face—”

Behind the screen, the idle chatter of Mrs. Brady and the girls provides a soothing backdrop for Juliet, and their laughter brings a smile to her face as she steps into her wedding dress.

It’s not the first time she’s worn it— her mother had her try it on several times over the course of her sewing and resewing her own wedding dress to be repurposed for her daughter’s big day— but she knows down to her bones that this time is different. There are no pins, no Mama fussing about a seam here or a loose thread there.

Well, there is a little bit of that, but it’s minimal as she pins the darling pillbox hat she’d found with the girls in place, adjusting the veil so it falls just so over her impeccably made-up face. With all the fussing and preparation they've done over the past couple months, Juliet almost expects to see a stranger staring back at her from the mirror.

But it’s just… her. About to be married.

“Oh my darling…” her mother says, meeting her eyes in their reflection as hers well up with tears, “You look beautiful.”

Juliet takes in a shaky breath as she smooths down the full silk skirt, a bundle of tulle forming a sort of bow at her waistline. Her gaze follows the path of pearls up the creamy silk to an illusion neckline, a string of pearls resting at her throat, and something about seeing it through the haze of the veil over her eyes makes it feel that much more real.

She turns to embrace her mother, murmuring a soft and sincere “Thank you.”

Her mother’s arms squeeze tight around her for a moment before she steps back, not wanting to wrinkle the fabric.

“Well,” she says, “Ready to show everyone?”

Juliet and her mother step out from behind the screen, and the room falls silent.

“Juliet…”

Mrs. Brady is the first to break the breathless hush that’s fallen over the room.

“Sweetheart, you look lovely.”

“It’s perfect, Jules.”

“Brady’s gonna be speechless.”

Her heart thumps in her chest, glowing under the praise. She’s glad her friends love it as much as she does, but what she really wants to see is Johnny’s reaction. 

The girls’ voices fade into the background as that thought lingers, and lingers, and—

She blinks, and suddenly her mother is giving her a final kiss on the cheek as she and Mrs. Brady inch towards the door.

“We’ll be back when it’s time to go.”

The moment they’re gone, Juliet collapses into a chair, the full weight of what’s about to happen hitting her all at once.

“Oh gulabo,” Vika turns towards her, eyes wide, “are you alright?”

“Darling, you look like you’re about to pass out,” Olive says, frowning slightly as she peers intently at her friend. “Earth to Jules,” she urges, waving a hand in front of her face.

“Sorry,” Juliet says shakily, pushing her veil back over her head with trembling hands, because even that thin fabric between her and the world feels too confining at the moment, “I just— I’m so nervous.”

“About what, chickie?” Val chimes in, “You’re marrying your boy. Smooth sailing from there!”

“Yes!” Vika says, beaming, “This is the day we’ve been waiting for!”

There’s a clink from the other side of the room, and their attention snaps towards it.

Juliet blinks, anxiety momentarily traded for confusion as Jean produces bar equipment from who knows where, starting the familiar process of mixing her infamous martinis.

“Uhm, where did—?”

“Jo sweet-talked Rosie into convincing the barman to let us… borrow some of his things last night,” Olive giggles over the clinking of ice, “His lawyer charm worked an absolute treat.”

She still has… several questions, but before she can voice any of them, the anxiety returns with a vengeance.

“Here,” Jean says, shoving a glass into her hand, “Drink up, pumpkin. Only half an hour to go!”

Juliet focuses on the cool glass, letting the sensation ground her as Jo helps pass drinks around to the other girls.

“To the Bradys.”

She raises her glass, the words repeating around the room, smiles audible.

A thrill runs up Jules’s spine at the toast, and she smiles into her drink as she takes a generous sip, wincing slightly at the strength of it.

In half an hour, she’ll be Juliet Brady.

“Doll,” Jo rests a hand on her shoulder, “Do you need us to check up on anything?”

“If one of you wouldn’t mind walking over to the church… make sure everything is set—”

“I’ve got it, chicken,” Olive says, standing to drape the silk shawl that matches their bridesmaid dresses over her shoulders. “Anyone wanna join?”

Jules can’t help but grin as Vika eagerly volunteers, and the sound of Olive teasing her about seeing Benny fades as the door closes behind them.

“Tell us again where you’re going on your honeymoon, Jules.”

Jo’s voice cuts through the sound of her heartbeat in her ears, and Juliet feels a blush heating her cheeks as she answers.

“We’ve booked a lakehouse up near Rochester. Ten whole days.”

“That sounds wonderful, honey.” Jean smiles.

“It does,” Val chimes in with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “A whole house to yourself? And on a lake, too, very romantic. Plenty of privacy…” She singsongs.

“You’ll have lots of fun, I promise.” Jean adds with a wink.

“You’re all awful,” Jules giggles, nearly choking on her next sip. “As excited as I am for that,” she says, her blush intensifying, “I’m even more excited to see the house, once we’re back.”

“He got it?!”

“You haven’t seen it yet?!”

The girls’ questions overlap, and it takes Juliet a moment to parse who said what.

“He did. Johnny’s been working on it for a while with my father, getting as much as he can fixed up before we move in” she confirms, sliding into an almost-whine as she continues, “and he won’t let me see it! Says he wants it to be a surprise.”

“He’s probably fixing up a private library just for you,” Jo teases sweetly through a sip of her own drink.

Juliet shakes her head. “Don’t be silly,” she waves the comment away, but can’t help the grin growing on her face. What if…?

She can feel her cheeks heat and pinken as they work their way through Jean’s well-strengthened martinis, and by the time her glass is drained, her nerves are gone, replaced by an all-encompassing giddiness.

And just in time, as a soft rap of knuckles on wood alerts her to someone at the door before it bursts open to reveal her mother, Mrs. Brady, Olive and Vika. They pile into the room, all smiles and— in her mother’s case— eyes shiny with unshed tears.

“It’s time, sweetheart.”

Her eye flick to Olive and Vika, and her dearest friends grin reassuringly.

“The church looks beautiful, chicken.”

“Everything’s ready, Jules,” Vika smiles, her voice sweet and soft, “All we need is you.”

Juliet nods, pushing to her feet. One deep breath in and out as she looks around at her friends— no, her family.

She beams.

“Here we go.”

It’s a short drive to the church, and in no time she’s slipping out of the car and walking up the steps to the side entrance, the girls helping with her short train and her mother clutching her bouquet of gardenias and pink roses.

“I’ll go check in with Johnny and let your father know you’re here,” Mrs. Brady whispers as they enter, giving her hand one last squeeze. “See you later, honey.”

Juliet thanks her softly, and with one last smile over her shoulder, she’s gone.

Their little group makes their way to the small room just down the hall where they’ll wait for the ceremony to start. The church is small, small enough that she can hear the soft chatter of their guests in the main chapel, and butterflies once again stir to life in her belly.

Peeking in the mirror to make sure her makeup is still immaculate, she sees the door open behind her, and she whirls around with a grin.

“Daddy…”

Her father is in his best suit, and his eyes are wide as he takes in his daughter on her wedding day.

He steps forward and pulls her into his chest.

“My little girl,” he whispers, his hoarse voice the only hint of the emotion he’s holding back, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, hugging him tight. Juliet feels tears welling up and rapidly blinks them back as she steps out of her father’s embrace with a watery smile.

She can hear the chatter outside soften slightly, the string quartet and choir start up, and knows that Johnny’s following Father Pat down the aisle, just like they rehearsed. Any minute now they’ll be called for the procession…

Juliet turns back to the mirror for a flurry of last-minute adjustments, tucking away a stray hair here and there, fixing the way her necklace lays against her collarbones, one last affectionate twist of her engagement ring, and she can hardly keep the smile off her face as her mother looks up from her watch to announce:

“It’s time.”

Jules stays tucked just around the corner with her father as her mother brushes one last kiss to her cheek, her eyes keen as if taking in every detail of Juliet’s face before she turns and disappears down the hall leading to the main chapel. The music rises and falls as the large doors open and then close behind Mrs. Thompson.

The girls flutter around her one last time, fussing with her train and veil before they, too, line up with their respective men— Benny and Vika looking not at all upset, if a bit shy, that they ended up paired together— and disappear into the chapel.

Now it’s just Juliet and her father, and he’s looking at her with an indescribable emotion on his face— as if he’s seeing all the hers she’s ever been.

The little six-year-old begging for another story at bedtime, wide green eyes and a trembling lip drawing another fairytale out of him.

The ten-year-old listening rapt as he read A Midsummer Night’s Dream aloud, giggling and starry-eyed and believing wholeheartedly in fairies.

The teenager accumulating a more impressive collection of books than even he could have imagined, carefully nurturing an appreciation of Shakespeare he’d planted himself alongside a newly-developing thirst for romance.

The near-grown woman, smiling bright as the sun at the prospect of attending Cornell, ready to take on the world and then some.

“Ready, my Juliet?” is all he says as they wait for the doors to open once more.

Juliet beams up at him, forcing back the pressure behind her eyes— she refuses to have ruined mascara on her way down the aisle— and nods.

And then the doors are opening, revealing the chapel resplendent with white streamers and fragrant with gardenias, the few modest rows of friends and family and neighbors turning to look as she enters, but there’s only one face she cares about.

Juliet’s eyes lock on John Brady standing at the end of the aisle, finding his gaze as easy as breathing. He looks… positively awestruck, an adoring grin spreading across his face, and she can’t stop smiling back, lovely, bright, heart achingly sweet happiness bubbling up inside her at the sight of him standing proud in his dress uniform at the end of the aisle.

The world shrinks until it’s just the two of them, Canon in D a sweet victorious hymn in the background— he made it out, made it home to her, made it back to a place where he could put the war behind him, they made it. 

Through separation and war and uncertainty and worry and fear, they made it. 

The tears well at her lashline, threaten to spill over, but she holds them back as best she can until she catches a slight change in the music. Her eyes flick to Olive, whose teary eyes are now bright with proud mischief, then back to her Johnny as the song shifts to something it takes her a moment to recognize.

The tears spill over her cheeks as soon as her brain fills in the lyrics to a song she shouldn’t know, but has felt a connection to since the moment her friend played it for her.

Can I go where you go?…

The world is hazy through her veil, and blurry through her tears until she blinks them away to find herself standing barely a foot away from Johnny. Surprise and fondness sparks through her when she sees that his own blue eyes are shining with tears as her father presses a final kiss to her cheek and presses her hand into John Brady’s.

She knows her boy will take care of her. She knows her father knows that too, but it warms her heart all the same to see John give a solemn nod to Mr. Thompson as his hand envelops hers, his face— for the barest flash of a moment— as serious as the day he went off to war.

She passes off her bouquet to Vika, and turns back to him smiling.

“Hi,” she breathes, a greeting for his ears alone. She wants nothing more than to kiss him senseless, but she can’t… not yet.

“Hi,” he whispers back fondly, that crooked grin she adores widening as his eyebrows lift slightly in amusement. 

The priest allows them this small moment, giving them an indulgent smile before— finally— beginning the ceremony.

Juliet does her best to memorize every detail of the hour-long ceremony, but afterwards she’ll admit it’s all a blur until the moment Benny gives John the rings.

She remembers every second after that for the rest of her life.

She remembers seeing Johnny’s smile through the haze of her veil, Father Pat’s friendly rumble faded to background noise as he asked him to vow for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?. She remembers the surety in her soon-to-be husband’s voice as he replied “I do”, the weight of the simple gold band sliding to join the emerald on her ring finger.

She remembers Father Pat asking her the same— for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?— and the “I do” that tumbles out of her almost before he’s finished speaking, prompting a titter of fond laughter to echo through the crowd of guests.

She remembers his hand, warm and strong and scarred and sure in hers as she slides on his own wedding band.

They’re pronounced man and wife, and Johnny can finally lift the veil over her head, and— oh.

She understands now, why at every wedding she’s attended here, the bride seems to be hit by a wave of sudden emotion after her veil is lifted. There’s something that rocks her to her core about seeing the world through a haze and it only being lifted once they’ve promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

Johnny’s beaming, his eyes soft as he takes her in properly. His thumb strokes gently along her cheek, his gaze almost greedily snatching at the details the sheer fabric was hiding from him. 

And then he’s leaning in, and her husband is kissing her, soft and chaste and sweet in front of all of their loved ones, and something warm blooms in her chest as she smiles into the kiss, something that tells her this is only the beginning of a very happy new chapter.

Her parents, Mrs. Brady, and the bridal party linger for pictures on the church steps after the guests file out— Juliet makes sure to get a picture of her and the girls together, demure smiles abandoned in favor of outright beaming at the camera.

Once the pictures are done, the whole group is whisked back to the Thompson home. Her mother bustles off to the kitchen, Mrs. Brady hot on her heels, while John and Juliet field congratulations from neighbors and family and friends— only a handful of people, all things considered, but everyone they deemed important.

As somewhat overwhelming as all of it is, Juliet can’t stop smiling, nodding and thanking everyone for coming. Meatball’s arrival— courtesy of Mrs. Demarco, who had volunteered to keep an eye on him at home so he wouldn’t cause any havoc at the ceremony— provides a welcome reprieve, the husky eagerly greeting the new faces as Benny’s mother offers her congratulations and goes to find a well-deserved glass of champagne.

Everyone settles at the mismatched tables in the backyard, covered with every scrap of respectable linen Juliet and her mother could scrounge up. The warm, sunny afternoon is a perfect backdrop as the toasts start.

Her father’s makes her cry, her giggles morphing into tears as he reminisces on the fine young lady his daughter has grown up to be, slipping from jokingly threatening John to wishing them the happiest of lives together. Mr. Thompson is a fairly stoic man, but Juliet can just barely see the telltale sheen of unshed tears as he raises a glass in their direction.

“To the bride and groom.”

The toast is echoed by their guests as her father returns to his seat and the groomsmen take turns speaking. Despite the tradition of speeches being limited to just the best man and maid of honor, both Juliet and John thought it was only right for all of their friends to have the opportunity to speak if they wished.

All five of them— Benny, Ev, Dougie, Rosie, and Croz— are surprisingly sentimental, each of them taking a moment in their own way to tell the newly proclaimed Mr. and Mrs. Brady how happy they are for them— they all know how long Brady had waited for this day, and to see it realized, to be there to celebrate with him, was an honor and a joy they tried their hardest to put into words.

Seeing the grateful smile on her husband’s face as they speak, Juliet feels a wave of fondness rush over her— as awful as the war was, it gave both of them some very dear friends on the other side, and she’s sure neither of them would change it for the world.

Speaking of very dear friends…

Vika steps up first, a shy smile on her face as she speaks about their childhood friendship, reconnecting as adults, how even with how long she’s known her, she sees Juliet at her absolute happiest when she’s with John.

“I hope that never fades,” she concludes, raising her glass in a slender hand, “And may we all be lucky enough to find a love like yours.”

Olive comes next, her speech sprinkled with Shakespeare references as she talks about a friendship built on pages sent across oceans.

“Brady lit up when he first told me about his girl who shared a name with one of Shakespeare’s heroines, and I was so excited when he offered to send along an essay for me— thanks for letting me take up so much space in your letters, Brady—” the Brit adds with a wink, “I was more than happy to talk about tragedies with you, Jules, but I’m over the moon seeing you get your well-deserved happy ending.”

Jean steps up with a sweet smile as Olive returns to her seat. She talks of friendships forged in worry and wartime, and reminds Juliet that should she need anything— there’s something fierce yet soft in her gaze that tells Juliet she truly means anything— she’s only a letter or phone call away.

Jo’s next, reminiscing on their time spent distracting each other from the ever-present worry of the past couple years, building a lifelong friendship in the process, and echoing Jean’s reminder that they’re there for anything. “Especially if you’re itching for another ride on the Cyclone,” she laughs, “And that goes for you, too, John.”

(John shakes his head vehemently, still smiling, and Juliet makes it her mission then and there to get her husband on that rollercoaster at least once).

Val brings the speeches to an end, all sweet Brooklyn snark— “still can’t believe Brady landed someone as sweet as you, Jules, have you seen how grumpy he is in the mornings?”— laced with the genuine, infectious  joy they’re all feeling today.

Juliet frantically dabs away another round of tears, blowing kisses to each of her friends as the speeches come to an end. She’d left the option of speeches open to all of them, of course, but she hadn’t anticipated…

Johnny squeezes her hand, and she turns to see his sweet smile. His blue eyes are soft as he lifts her left hand to press a kiss to the back of it, and she thinks she might actually burst from the amount of love she feels in that moment.

The sweet moment is interrupted by motion out of the corner of her eye, followed by soft gasps and murmurs from their guests, and she turns to see her mother wheeling the cake over to their table, a bright, proud smile gracing Helen Thompson’s face.

Juliet’s jaw drops as she takes in the tiered confection, elaborately decorated with thick cream frosting. She’d told her mother it didn’t need to be anything fancy— the simple lemon cake from her childhood was all she’d really pictured— not wanting her to save their sugar rations just for this, but…

She scrambles out of her seat and races to her mother, Johnny following close behind as she pulls her in for a fierce hug.

“Mama, it’s wonderful. Thank you so, so much, it’s just perfect, how on earth did you manage this?”

“It was nothing, sweetheart,” Mrs. Thompson says modestly, eyes flicking between her daughter and her new son-in-law, “You deserved nothing but the best on your wedding day.”

“It’s wonderful, Mrs. Thompson,” John says, “Thank you.”

Her mother beams in thanks, and gestures them closer to the table.

“Oh, go on and cut it already— but wait for your father, he wants to get pictures!”

The newlywed Bradys take up the kitchen knife that’s been set beside the cake and— exchanging a smile— carefully cut into the bottom tier, pulling out a small slice. Juliet grins when her husband holds his fingers to her lips, accepting the small bite that Johnny pinches off the slice for her.

She happily does the same for him, and— oh, she can’t resist. 

With a giggle, she smears the bit of frosting left on her finger onto the tip of his nose. The moment of pure shock on his face is well worth his revenge when she ends up with a matching dot of frosting on herself.

Her own shock is wiped off her face as her grinning husband swoops in to kiss her. She smiles into the kiss, tasting lemon and sugar on his lips as their guests cheer.

Her mother soon reappears, shooing them back to their seats with slices of cake so she can commence distributing the rest to the guests. They happily oblige, feeding each other bite by bite until nothing but crumbs remain and Juliet’s head is deliciously fuzzy with champagne and sugar.

Which makes it that much easier for her husband to pull her onto the little section of grass they called the dance floor, Juliet fighting back a blush as she’s pulled into his arms for a slow dance. A few of their neighbors with musical talents had happily offered their services for the reception, and it's thanks to them that John can twirl his bride around the floor to his heart’s content as the tempo picks up and their friends join in.

The improvised band returns to a slow song, and Johnny’s arms wind around her waist to pull her close. Face tucked against his shoulder, she looks out at their friends— Benny and Vika chatting at a table nearby, the Crosbys, Rosie and Jo, Ev and Val surrounding them on the grass… She catches Olive’s eye, swaying nearby with Dougie, and beams, reaching out instinctively for her friend. Olive’s neatly manicured hand clasps her own, and she gives a soft squeeze, hoping that tiny action conveys even a fraction of the gratitude she feels. 

When they first started writing, she couldn’t have imagined how close she’d become to the sweet English girl an ocean away— a lifetime away— helping keep tabs on her Johnny. She adored Jo and Jean and the rest of the girls equally, of course, but Olive’s updates— even after Johnny had gone down— were a large part of the reason she hadn’t gone completely out of her mind with worry. Any news that came from Olive came in the guise of soft conversation with a friend, rather than those dreaded stoic telegrams, and it was… easier, somehow.

Olive squeezes back, hazel eyes glinting with happiness, and with one last knowing smile, they each return to their respective partners. 

Goodness, she can’t wait for their wedding.

Her husband catches her attention with a gentle squeeze of her waist, and Juliet pulls back to look up at him questioningly.

“I’m glad I got to introduce you two,” he smiles, nodding towards Olive, “Even if those essays did take up far too many of my letters.”

“Me too,” Juliet replies, adding teasingly, “And you hush, I know you read them too.”

“Maybe a few,” Johnny admits, “Still didn’t understand a word.”

“Better get used to it, sweetheart,” Juliet beams, “You’re stuck with me now.”

He leans in, smiling against her lips.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Mrs. Brady.”

Their guests slowly trickle out after the cake and dancing, and soon it’s just her family— both biological and found— milling about to clean up the backyard. She can’t help but giggle at the various scoldings from the girls to “Be careful!” as the boys gather what the Thompsons deem their “good plates” to be returned to the kitchen, and something warm settles in her chest, seeing all of her friends milling about her childhood home— all the people she loves in one place. 

Once the last of the tables have been put away (that is, returned to their various neighbors, with profuse thanks for allowing them to borrow them), Juliet finds herself standing beside the gardenia bush she’d planted below her bedroom window.

“Everything okay?”

She turns to see Johnny making his way over to her and smiles in spite of herself.

“I’m fine,” she assures her husband, “just… taking a moment before we start getting ready to leave.”

He nods, looking up at her window as he stands beside her.

“Good thing you won’t have me tossing rocks at your window to sneak you out of here anymore.”

She blinks, unsure of where that came from. Yes, that was something that had happened when they first started dating… more often than she cared to admit, but what did that have to do with now?

John turns his gaze to the blooming gardenia at their feet.

“This poor fella would’ve been trampled to bits.”

Juliet giggles, “I’ll admit I wasn’t thinking about that when I planted it here. I just liked the smell— I couldn’t bear the thought of it being gone when we converted the garden.”

He smiles, leaning down to gently pluck a blossom from the bush.

“We’ll plant as many as you want at the new place,” he murmurs, tucking the flower carefully behind her ear.

She beams, a thrill running through her at the thought that after the celebration, after their honeymoon, they still have a home to set up —to make their own.

“I can’t wait.”

Soon Juliet is whisked off to change, her dress tucked carefully into a garment bag to be kept safe at her parents’ home until after the honeymoon.

Her husband— husband, husband, husband, the word fills her with sunshine every time she thinks it— stands smiling at the bottom of the stairs as she descends. She slips her hand into his, and together they run out of her childhood home in a shower of rice. They pause before entering the car waiting at the end of the walk, and Juliet turns back. Grinning, she tosses her bouquet blindly, a few stray petals fluttering to the ground as it sails through the air and is caught by Val.

Her friend beams, a wide red-lipped smile stretching across her face as she glances towards Ev, green eyes sparkling like the emerald on her ring finger.

Juliet blows the girls a kiss, squeezes her parents tight one last time, and slips into the car, John closing the door for her before running around to the driver’s side.

Waving frantically until their friends fade from view, the car is silent as they drive unceremoniously past the tiny town limit sign. Juliet turns to look at Johnny— and beams when she sees he’s already staring at her.

She’s already said it a thousand times today, but she can’t resist repeating again.

“I love you.”

His reply is the same as it’s been the other thousand times, as though he’ll never tire of saying it— though this time there’s something tacked on at the end that makes her feel warm all over,  like she just swallowed sunshine.

“I love you, too, Mrs. Brady.”

[mylovelookup]

Cattonquick boarding school sweethearts/romeo & Juliet AU

In which Oliver also comes from old money and he and Felix fall in love in boarding school(?). The Quicks and the Cattons have been business partners since Queen Victoria was still kicking so Ollie and Felix have known each other their whole lives (summers and holidays always spent together) but when their family ties are suddenly severed after a hostile fight between their fathers, the boys’ last year at Eton is irrevocably ruined. As a reaction they decide (it was Felix’s idea and he succeeded in cajoling Oliver to agree) to elope run away on the first day of the Christmas holidays (imagine their respective chauffeurs endlessly waiting for them at the school gates lmao) and get married on a whim (also Felix’s idea to somehow "fix" things like ta-da! Can’t separate us now dad, we’re fucking married. Oliver is now a Catton. Family peace restored! No, not really Felix lmao.)

[basicrese]

Luke Castellan Fic Recs

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luke castellan fic recs (pt.2)

one - shots

Fate by @gh0stsp1d3r

firegirl by @calliopeslyrics

freaky friday by @too-deviant

Girls Castellan might like by @wenigstenshabeichesversucht

how to get a girl’s attention by @scwheeler

I Can See You by @sycamoregirlsworld

i like me better when i’m with you by @queer-little-demigod

I’m an Idiot by @alipal97

late night cravings by @lixzey

lighting the fuse might result in a bang by @love-that-we-were-in

LOML by @xspeter

Lovers Lake by @balletfilmss

luke castellan x poseidon!reader by @apollos-calliope

oh he looks so cute, wrapped around my finger! by @moneyndior

perk by @veryberryjelly

romeo meets juliet by @kafkasmuses

silver springs by @girlkisser13

something out of my dreams by @celesterayel

Sweetheart by @leafleaf

take a chance with me by @krkiiz

the clearing by @angelicdanvers

The Dare by @strawberries-and-summer-days

The Olive Theory by @neo-nomatrix

treat me like a fool by @moneyndior

true luck’s kiss by @atlabeth

what’s a girl gonna do when she’s in love with you? by @emiliehornby

when you get me alone, it’s so simple by @emiliehornby

series & multi-parts

all-american bitch by @cobrakaisb

dancing with our hands tied by @xspeter

everything in between by @fawnindawn

feigning for ya’ by @amoreva

he’s not just a man, mom by @brodieland

jackie and wilson by @too-deviant

lovelorn by @lixzey

luke castellan x nemesis!reader by @kamaluhkhan

mind over matter by @woodlandwrites

one year with luke castellan by @tangledinlove

partners in crime by @ma1dita

poisoned mercury by @wlntrsldler

ready to love by @svnny-days

The Jubilee Recollection by @klineinie

the prophecy by @wlntrsldler

three weeks by @too-deviant

the incessant ringing of loneliness

social media AUs

i’ve loved you in secret by @lizlovestofangirl

must be love! by @livlaughloveluke

my good looking boy by @lizlovestofangirl

Pictures for my Crush by @maraudersmyloves

so if you need a hero, just look in the mirror! by @moneyndior

sunburn by @voguesriot

take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die by @lizlovestofangirl

[satelitis]

— FADE INTO YOU ♱ felix catton x reader

-> i think it’s strange you never knew.

pairings — felix catton x fem!reader

© content/ trigger warning — angst, hurt no comfort, right person wrong time (i’m evil), mentions of alcohol, death, loss of a loved one

juno yaps — i hate ollie & thank you @ivyppoison for encouraging me to write for felix and thank you @stvrlighttgabss for watching me endure this movie aka work of art / pos

requested? — yes/no

Rain's ambience was the only sound countering the silence at Saltburn. The shocking and devastating event of your best friend, Felix Cattons death had struck the whole estate with grief, and panged at their hearts. It felt like the tedious emotion was beating their insides with a stick, continuously.

You didn't know what to do with the information. Yet, it didn't matter, because all you could do was be paralyzed with anguish and the only way of expelling the trauma was crying, or screaming,however you couldn't even bring yourself to do either. You hadn't anyway, since the morning you found out.

The Saltburn Estate now lacked a sense of emotion and charm, Felix had brought and it plagued you with sorrow. Especially, considering Cupid had took his ghastly toll, and had struck you with his arrow, resulting in you pining and yearning for the dark haired boy.

God, you were so mad at him. Not for dying, not for leaving you too early, but for the simple fact that he was too goddamn oblivious to even give you five minutes together, happy and mutually in love. Giving you zero confirmation and satisfaction that you were star-crossed lovers destined to be. But, even Romeo and Juliet, despite being soulmates, had to reach their harrowing fate.

You and Felix only got to experience platonic interactions and it made you so regretful. If only you had stayed with him for five more minutes he would've took you into the maze, and not a random girl from the party. If only you had stayed five more minutes his death could've been avoided and you could be warm in each others embrace, lazily kissing, in the comfort of Felix's bed. But fate had other plans.

You weren't sure if you were supposed to be mad at yourself, or feel guilty for being too afraid to tell him your true feelings earlier, or if you were angry at Felix's oblivion. Wasn't it obvious? The way you looked at him alone, said a million words of adoration and infatuation. Wasn't one look enough? Obviously not.

And the worst part was, you were too late. At Olivers birthday party, you had enough of seeing Felix with all of these girls, not only at functions but back at Oxford as well. So you decided to face your fears and actually do something about the throbbing wound of Cupid's arrow, right in the bullseye of your heart.

You had always been studious and gifted at writing essays, so you did what you do best and wrote Felix a letter. You looked guiltily at it, as it sat on the night-stand. His name written in red sharpie on the front of the envelope. Your emotions, thoughts and true feelings towards Felix were laced upon the parchment and he never even got to know, let a alone see, touch or acknowledge the paper on which the confession was even made.

You sigh, getting off of the bed on which you had been residing for the better part of forty-eight hours, that being Felix's bed. Your hair was distressed, your shirt, one also of his and face stained, with old mascara and tears. You grabbed the letter off of the night-stand, and headed down the many corridors of Saltburn out to the burial spot in which Felix was lying.

The rain caused you to become drenched in a matter of seconds but letting Felix know your true feelings, rather late than never was way more important than worrying about the possibility of obtaining the common cold or worse Influenza.

You sat on the wet grass in front of the headstone. Trying to fight back the immediate tears that started to brim in your eyes, you spoke up.

"Erm, Hey Felix," you sniffed, "I really miss you a lot..." you paused, waiting for the one in a miracle chance of hearing his voice, and him telling you it was a cruel prank, but alas, with delusion comes reality and Felix's voice was never heard. You wiped your tears softly and proceeded to speak.

"I know it's too late and all but I wrote you a letter, I was going to give you..well I uh, did give you, I slipped it under your bedroom door, but uhm..you never came back to see it, so I'm going to read it now." you said, fumbling with the paper softly, tearing away at the envelope. You cleared your throat, quietly before reading the letter.

"Felix,

We've known each other since the beginning of our time at Oxford, and it's safe to say you're my best friend." you began, looking up at the headstone momentarily before continuing,

"However, there's something I haven't been telling you, and I've just been way to scared to tell you but honestly this would be way more easier if you weren't so goddamn oblivious." you chuckled softly, wiping your tears once more.

"So now Im being the bigger person and telling you that," you paused briefly taking a breath before continuing, however it's not like it mattered.

"I'm in love with you, and have been for a while now, Felix. I want to hold the hand inside you, I want to take the breath that's true." you admit to the boy, showcasing your plea he's never going to respond too.

"I look to you and I see nothing. You go off with all these other girls and it hurts because I want to be one of those girls, Felix. Not only one of those girls but the girl, Felix. I don't want to be another hookup, that's not what I'm saying, I'm saying that I want to have something real, be something real to you." you rant, like he's actually here and his fictious presence is making you flustered. You can almost see the teasing smile on his lips now.

"But I look to you to see the truth and I don't know what it is...you live your life, you go in the shadows. You go off with these other girls, you'll come apart and you'll go blind, to what's actually in front of you." you continued, "It's some kind of night in your darkness or a blind spot I swear, I thought I saw love in your eyes but I just colored them with what's not there." you confessed.

"I'm fading into you, Felix and it's kind of embarrassing that I'm falling this much for you, and quite honestly it's kind of strange you never knew." you gently confronted. "I'm literally a mess around you, even Venetia and Farleigh figured it out in a heartbeat. I'm honestly surprised they didn't say anything." you chuckled.

At this point, you were drenched, and the letter now fairly wet, and your handwriting just enough eligible that you could barely make it out.

"Long story short, Lix, I'm in love with you, I have been for the longest time and I will always be in love with you. Y'know like they said in those cheesy rom com movies we watched together, 'right person, wrong time.'" you recalled, now discarding of the letter in your first as you went from your heart.

"But goddamn, I'm so surprised you never knew." you admitted, shaking your head slightly a slight chuckle escaping your lips once more. The rain continued and you now concurred that it was time for you to go back inside. Things weren't going to change, you were still heartbroken, and will continue to be. Grief marked it's territory and has spread like mold throughout your body, but at least you know he knew.

[pupsmailbox]

WEIRDCORE ID PACK

NAMES︰ abigail. abyss. achlys. adam. adelaide. adeline. agatha. agnes. albert. alexander. alfred. alice. amelia. angel. annabelle. apparition. arch. archie. arthur. atticus. aud. augustus. babel. babylon. barren. beatrice. benedict. benjamin. blanc. bliss. bubbles. bug. bunny. cain. calvin. cassian. cassius. catherine. cecilia. celeste. charlotte. chimera. clara. clementine. cloudi. cloudy. crow. dahlia. daisy. daphne. darcy. daze. deja. delusion. dorothy. dove. dream. echo. eleanor. elizabeth. emily. enigma. ernest. error. eve. evelyn. exite. eyes. felicity. felix. flaw. flower. gideon. glitch. glitchy. graham. harriet. hattie. haven. haze. hazel. henry. hmone. hollis. hugo. hun. illusion. imogen. inara. ink. iris. itzal. ivy. izhi. jane. juliet. juno. jupiter. kai. kasumi. kasumu. ka’awa. kgodi. kiri. kohu. kora. lilione. link. lucy. lulu. luminal. mabel. margaret. mars. matilda. matrix. mazin. meglena. mercury. miglė. mihika. mirage. misty. mok. mold. moon. moss. moth. muggur. nameless. nebula. neptune. niara. nihari. nihilo. nihira. nirav. nix. nobody. noir. noire. noiresse. noirette. nostalgesse. nostalgette. nothing. nox. ocula. odditie. olive. oliver. olivia. orion. oytuman. penelope. phoebe. pluto. poppy. portal. pujoq. raven. rinan. rinku. rūkas. salem. sanoe. saturn. senka. serene. shroom. shrum. shunya. sierra. sky. smile. socket. sophie. spook. spookie. spooky. spotty. stitch. sugar. sumu. sunny. suong. taktuq. telle. terhi. theodore. thoka. tomanbikä. tooth. tripp. tuban. unknown. usva. vacara. vacio. vega. venus. victoria. vivian. void. vortex. walter. xihir. yogiri. zero. zeta.

PRONOUNS︰ [redacted]/[redacted]. abandon/abandon. backroom/backroom. being/being. bizarre/bizarre. blank/blank. blur/blur. clock/clock. cloud/cloud. creature/creature. daze/daze. deja/vu. deranged/deranged. dim/dim. dizzy/dizzie. dream/dream. eerie/eerie. empty/empty. entity/entity. error/error. eye/eye. familiar/familiar. float/float. flower/flower. fog/fog. forget/forget. glitch/glitch. gone/gone. gray/gray. haze/haze. hush/hushe. it/it. ix/ix. jpeg/jpeg. lim/liminal. liminal/liminal. lost/lost. miss/missing. mush/shroom. no/exit. nostal/nostalgia. nostalgia/nostalgia. null/null. o/o. odd/odd. one/one. rem/ember. shush/shushe. space/spacey. stat/static. static/static. strange/strange. stuck/stuck. surreal/surreal. tele/vision. th?y/th?m. that/thatthing. thing/thing. thon/thon. tooth/tooth. tv/tv. un/canny. un/un. uncanny/uncanny. vague/vague. voi/void. void/void. vor/tex. watcher/watcher. weird/weird. where?/where?. x/x. yellow/yellow. zero/zero. ⏺️ . ☁️ . ⚪️ . ⚫️ . ❓ . ❔ . 🌁 . 🌫️ . 🏚️ . 👁️ . 👤 . 💨 . 💭 . 🔇 . 🔲 . 🔳 . 🕳️ . 🗝️ . 😶‍🌫️ . 🚪 .

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Arcanum Amoren

ACTUS SECUNDUS: PART II

Also on AO3

Pairing: Lucius Verus Aurelius x Fem!Reader

WC: 3.5k words

Summary: Part 2 of a request for my beloved mutual @chibipeachu <33 // AU inspired by Romeo and Juliet, where you meet a gladiator on the first night of the Saturnalia, and both of you seem to be immediately struck by Cupid's arrow.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (this fic is 18+), Alternate Universe (no emperor Lucius), deviation from canon, Lucius and Reader are in their 20s, forbidden love, slight power imbalance, fluff, some angst, smut, unprotected p in v, loss of virginity, a little bit of dirty talk, no death at the end, jealousy, alcohol consumption (wine), potentially some historical inaccuracies (SORRY), and I think that's it but lmk if anything else!

You nursed a cup of wine as you stared off into the middle distance, not paying attention to the conversation your father and your suitor, Cassius, were engaged in. The initial introduction had been mercifully brief before the two men began talking politics, but you and Alba had no choice but to politely listen in, not yet dismissed. She seemed much more keen on actually listening to what they were saying, though, subtly nodding along even if she didn’t make any remarks herself.

Cassius was adequately handsome, with dark, kind eyes, sunkissed olive skin, and a mop of dark curls. He was a couple of years older than you, and taller by half a head. He seemed nice enough upon first impression, at the very least, but he hadn’t really tried to ask you anything about yourself. Not that you had expected him to, but it irked you all the same. If he wanted to marry you, shouldn’t he at least attempt to woo you a little bit?

Your mind drifted back to Lucius and his fervent blue eyes, which reminded you of the pale morning sky, the lovely promise of a new day. Those eyes had shown a real interest in you, and not the opportunities you offered, whether you wanted to or not. You didn’t think it had been just lust, either, but it was still too early to tell. Regardless, it was a very rare thing to encounter and you found it to be quite titillating. Then again, most forbidden things were.

You wouldn’t necessarily consider yourself idealistic, but it was hard not to fantasize, especially when the anticipation of your late night rendezvous was eating at you. Never before had you felt time stretching on so infinitely, and you could only hope that it remained that way while you were actually with him.

Lucius, for his part, had stuck to the shadows at the corners of the garden, keeping watch while remaining mostly unseen. Ravi had quickly caught on to his plans and half-heartedly tried to persuade him against it, but Lucius’s resolve was implacable. Especially after spotting you with Cassius, a bitter taste forming at the back of his throat he could not swallow down. His fists clenched and unclenched slowly at his sides.

“Glowering so openly will only invite unwanted attention, my friend,” Ravi said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “The last thing I want to do is bring dishonor to the house of a friend by starting a row, especially during such a holy day.”

Lucius’s jaw clenched, but he nodded once, firmly. “And we will do no such thing, I assure you. Though… I can hardly explain it, Ravi.”

Ravi huffed with amusement, understanding all the same. “I know. We have all been arrested by such beauty at least once in our lives.”

“She goes beyond beauty.”

Ravi looked over at you, trying to see things through Lucius’s eyes. In the time he’d known the fierce gladiator, he had never seen him struck by someone to such a degree. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t succumbed to his baser instincts every now and again with pretty, giggling courtesans, but this was definitely different. He wasn’t sure if he should be more worried because of it, but he was at least sure he would be totally unsuccessful in deterring Lucius. He already knew how stubborn he could be. 

Ravi heaved a resigned sigh. “I know that, too.”

Lucius downed his cup of wine in one go and he silently offered to refill it for him, hoping he would stay put until he came back.

All that time, you’d felt a heavy gaze on you, but you hadn’t allowed yourself to look around for him. There was too much at risk to be that foolish, even if you were burning to meet his gaze once more. Without you realizing it, the smallest of smiles tugged at your lips at the thought of your brief conversation by the portraits.

But then Alba subtly elbowed your side, bringing you back to the present. You blinked, startled, and realized Cassius, your father, and Alba were looking at you expectantly. 

“I’m sorry?” You said, figuring Cassius must have asked you something.

He chuckled, perhaps confusing your absentmindedness for meek pining. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. 

“I asked if you knew how to play any instruments?” He said, his smile patient. “I’ve always been fond of music.”

“Um, the harp, a little bit. I don’t consider myself to be a very proficient player, really…” 

“Oh, don’t be so modest, daughter. You play beautifully,” your father cut in, pride in his voice. “And you have a lovely singing voice, too.”

Your face heated up from embarrassment, but you didn’t exactly want to contradict your father. Cassius raised his eyebrows, both faintly impressed and intrigued.

“Perhaps you will honor me with a demonstration some time,” he said.

“But of course,” you said automatically, bowing your head.

Cassius and your father smiled, well pleased. Alba clocked your discomfort in the tense set of your shoulders and subtly took your hand, squeezing your fingers reassuringly.

“Uncle, it is getting rather late. Perhaps my cousin and I may retire to our chambers for the evening?” She said, making a show of yawning behind her hand. “I would hate for us to collapse from exhaustion right in front of you.”

“Why, yes, of course. There’ll be plenty more time for us to chat in the coming days,” he said, kissing your forehead and then hers. “Get some rest so you’ll look just as lovely in the morning. Nobody likes a haggard looking woman, isn’t that right, Cassius?”

He laughed, setting your teeth on edge. “Rightly so.”

Mentally, you punched him right on the nose, but in reality you stood rigid, your plastered smile more a baring of teeth. Cassius took your hand and kissed your knuckles, but the gesture felt nothing like when Lucius did it. You wanted to recoil as if burnt. 

“I’ll be seeing you very soon,” he said, and you suppressed a shiver not of anticipation, but of dread. 

—------------------

You tossed and turned for what seemed like a restless eternity, waiting for all the noise outside to dwindle and eventually die down completely. You kept one candle burning on your bedside table, but otherwise, you were plunged in darkness. Every so often, you anxiously glanced towards the balcony, where you’d left the door ajar. Only the breeze slipped in for the longest time, until…

A darker shadow hovered in the threshold for a moment, as if making sure he was in the right place. You sat up in bed, heart rate immediately kicking up. You thought you recognized his broad shoulders and easy gait, but you scarcely dared to believe he was real, that this was actually happening.

“Is it really you?” You whispered, clutching the covers against your chest. 

His shoulders slumped with equal relief and you could swear you heard him breathe out a soft laugh.

“Yes, my lady, it’s me…” he whispered. “May I?”

“Yes, please.”

Slowly, he approached, and finally his face was faintly illuminated by the candlelight. He stood there, unmoving, though his eyes roamed, snatching on your trembling lips and the hollow of your throat. You let the covers fall from your grip, clothed in only a thin sleep tunic where he could see the pert outline of your breasts. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then briefly looked away, mentally chastising himself for being improper.

“What is it?” you asked.

His eyes flicked back to your face. “I just… wanted to look at you.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, facing you. He offered his hand and you took it, looking down at your laced fingers. With his free hand, he caressed your cheek before grasping your chin, making you meet his gaze.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. 

You smiled lopsidedly, still feeling a flush of warmth at his compliments. “So you’ve said…”

He chuckled softly, realizing he was making a fool of himself. “It bears repeating.”

You scooted closer to him, suddenly feeling like any distance between you was too great. Perhaps it was the urgency of limited time, or the culmination of all your anticipation. Whatever it was, your body seemed to bow towards him out of its own volition, filled with longing.

Your eyes darted to his lips, slowly reaching up to brush them gently with the tips of your fingers. “Will you kiss me?”

He nodded, kissing your fingers before your hand moved to cup his face. He leaned in, hot breath fanning over your cupid’s bow. His lips brushed against yours softly, your eyes slipping closed in bliss. The tip of your tongue touched his upper lip enticingly and he shuddered, clutching you against him.

His lips melded against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth. You whimpered wantonly, tightly holding onto his tunic with your free hand. What you really wanted was to feel his warm skin against yours, every hard plane of his muscles deliciously contrasting your softness.

Venus herself must’ve heard your silent pleas, for you felt your shift sliding off one of your shoulders. You pulled back for air, both of you panting, pupils blown wide. Holding his gaze, you slowly pulled the top half of your shift down to your waist. 

His breath caught in his throat as he took you in, unsure what to do with his hands. Your chest heaved under his appraisal, fire slowly blooming outward from within you. You reached out for his hand, bringing it to your sternum so he could feel how quickly your heart was beating.

“Touch me,” you said. “However you’d like to do it, just keep touching me.”

Every instinct screamed at him to give in to your wishes, but he hesitated, looking back up at your face.

“Are you sure?” he asked, swallowing hard and bracing himself for whatever your answer might be. “I’m aware of your… courtship.”

You clutched his arm and shook your head desperately, as if you could cast the thought away so simply.

“I’m not his. I could never be his,” you breathed. “I want to be yours.”

There was a sound low in his throat at that, and he dove forward to claim your mouth once more. His fingers danced over your ribcage before slowly trailing up towards your breasts. His mouth moved to your jaw and the slope of your throat, pulling more soft sounds from you. As your collective desperation increased, you slid back and pulled him over you, his body slotting between your legs.

He left open mouth kisses over your clavicles and the ladder of your sternum, but when his tongue dragged over to one of your sensitive nipples, you arched against him. Every part of your body felt hyper aware of him, nerve endings tingling even at the fan of his breath on your skin. 

He took his time lavishing your chest, one of his hands roaming lower and lower until it was slipping under your shift. Your legs jerked as he made contact with your inner thigh, your breath hitching. He grinned at you, well pleased that you were responding so keenly to him. 

“Have you ever touched yourself here, my lady?” he asked, his lips hovering over yours once more. “Did you imagine a ravagement such as this?”

You shook your head deliriously, trying to kiss him, but he kept himself teasingly out of reach. His fingers moved closer to your center, teasing the junction where it met your thigh. You could feel your heartbeat beating right at your core, intensely warm.

“No? Well… I suppose the real thing is always better, isn’t it?”

With that, his middle finger parted your folds, his brows furrowing wantonly as he realized just how slick you were already. He dragged his finger up, making contact with that bundle of nerves that nearly made you cry out. Was it supposed to feel that intense? It was like a whole new world was opening up for you.

“My, my… There’s my answer,” he said, finally kissing you once more. 

You moaned into his mouth as he continued his slow, exploratory ministrations. You bucked against his palm, instinctively searching for more friction. But he was determined to keep an easy pace, wanting to prolong your pleasure as long as he could. He circled your clit maddeningly, drawing out more honey from you, and earning a scratch on his shoulder.

His middle finger teased the entrance of your cunt, pushing inside a little bit, probing. You trembled against him, nodding for him to go on. 

“Please, Lucius,” you panted. “Please.”

Painstakingly slow, his finger plunged into you, making you momentarily tense. As he began to move it a little, you felt it curl inside of you, touching another spot you’d also been unaware of. Soon a second finger joined the first, and he fucked you with them at that same maddening pace, opening you up for him. His thumb slotted against your clit for an added layer, and after just a few swipes, you found yourself tumbling headfirst into oblivion. 

You felt like one of those mountains of fire during eruption, ripples of heat spreading through you. Your eyes closed and your mouth fell open as your muscles seized, your walls contracting against his finger with every pulse of ecstasy. Lucius moaned throatily as he helped you ride it all the way through, a possessive feeling surging within him.

He was painfully hard, his cock pulsing with need, but he wouldn’t go further if you didn’t wish to. He was content to make it all about you and would take the memory with him to please himself later.

But when you looked at him, starry-eyed and smiling beatifically as you parted your legs even more, he knew it would not be the case. You sat up to help him take his tunic off, mesmerized by the length and girth of him as it was revealed to you. In the dim candlelight, you could see the tip of it glistening with his own arousal.

“Last chance to go back,” he murmured, his hand wrapping around himself.

“Never,” you said without hesitation. “Make me yours, and only yours. I beg you.”

How could he ever deny such sweet words? If that was what you wanted, then he’d happily comply.

You wiggled out of your shift and laid back down, arms extended toward him to pull him in. He happily gave in, your knees drawing up to press against his hips. With one hand, he swiped the head of his cock through your folds, coating it in your slick. Still sensitive from your orgasm, you jerked against him, thighs pressing tighter against his sides. 

“This might hurt a little, but I’ll be careful,” he promised, taking your hand to kiss it. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

Though you nodded, you already knew you would be doing no such thing. You felt him line up with your entrance, the head pushing in slightly. It was more of a stretch than his fingers, so you inhaled sharply through your teeth at the slight sting. He paused only to assess your reactions, but then he kept pushing in little by little.

Once he was in to the hilt, he lowered himself so his chest was against yours, his face burying in your neck. He didn’t move at first, letting you get used to the full length of him throbbing inside you. Then he felt you squirming against him, his beard tickling your neck as he kissed it. His hips began to move, barely drawing back before plunging in once again, making you keenly aware of every single inch.

You sighed his name, fingers digging into his soft curls to tug his head so he’d meet your lips. Your tongues tangled sloppily as his thrusts gradually grew in intensity, hips snapping against yours. It was a struggle to keep quiet, especially as he hit spots deep inside you that had your head spinning. He followed every soft plea to go harder, deeper, your desperate mewls spurring him on.

Lucius felt his own pleasure mounting, the muscles of his abdomen bunching. Your warmth and the tight clutch of your cunt had his sack tightening, becoming increasingly harder to keep his orgasm at bay. But he wanted you to come together, this time, meld your bodies for good.

He snaked a hand between your bodies and found your clit once more, rubbing it in frantic circles. You muffled your hitching moans against his shoulder, pressing your face against it. Your cunt clamped down on him as you felt yourself slipping under once more, pulling him along with you. He buried himself to the hilt just as his release began to spill, an animalistic groan escaping his throat with each spurt coating your insides. Now you were well and truly his, and he wouldn’t let anyone take you from him. 

The two of you clutched each other tightly as if to anchor yourselves in reality. Gradually, you drifted back to the present and he pulled back to look at you, brushing hair away from your face. You smiled as if drunk, your cheeks flushed brightly. He peppered your face with kisses, not wanting to ever pull away from you.

But outside, birds were just beginning their dawn chorus, reminding you of all the dangers daylight would bring. At most, you had a few more minutes of peace.

“Take me with you,” you said, giving him pause. “Not today but… Someday.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere far away, where no one will know who we are, or what is expected of us.”

He searched your features for any hint of doubt. “Is that what you really want?” 

You nodded. “I cannot stay here. I can’t. They’ll hand me over to him as soon as it’s convenient.”

“We won’t let that happen.” He grasped your hand tightly, a look of determination on his face. “I don’t know how, but I promise you I will do what I can to get you out of here.”

“Let it be soon, please,” you said. “Nights aren’t nearly long enough to be at your side.”

“We still have a few days of the Saturnalia, my love,” he said, trying to soothe your anxiety. “Perhaps I may be able to visit you like this so we may… do some planning.”

You chuckled at the insinuation in his tone, rolling your eyes playfully. “How much planning can actually be done with no clothes on?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m at my most effective then.” He grinned mischievously. “I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

————————-

The day of your wedding came, but you were not present for it. In fact, you were leagues away from the Ostia Antica, surrounded by the glittering Tyrrhenian sea. Seagulls circled overhead, squawking among themselves. The salty breeze pushed your hood off your head and tousled your hair. Your eyes were fixed on the horizon, wondering when you would see land next.

Lucius reached over to pull your hood back on and you turned to smile at him. You were aboard a merchant ship, granted safe passage after paying off the captain with what was meant to be your dowry. The ship was headed to Greece, but you weren’t sure if that would be your final destination. 

It was both exhilarating and frightening not knowing what would come next in your life. But for the first time, it would all be up to you, with only the Gods to intervene. That couldn’t be helped. So far, though, Fortuna had tipped her scale in your favor, and you had to have trust it would carry you safely to wherever you’d end up.

And with Lucius at your side, nothing really seemed impossible, anyway. You had managed to run away, after all. Though it was sad to leave certain aspects of your life behind, like your family, you kept your gaze ahead. Everything ahead of you, nothing behind you. That was the way of things.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucius prompted, secretly hoping you weren’t having any second thoughts.

You sidled up against him, sighing contentedly. “How grateful I am that fortune sometimes favors fools in love.”

He chuckled, relieved. “So you are saying we are fools?”

“Oh, we are. We really are.” You laughed, kissing his cheek. “But I like that about us.”

He hummed as if considering your words. “Foolish enough to sneak into the captain’s quarters for a moment alone? After all, we’re yet to celebrate the beginning of our new lives…”

Your smile had a mischievous curl to it. “Why, yes, we are. Though not foolish enough to get ourselves caught, I hope.”

His arm wrapped around your waist to pull you even closer. “Hmm, we’ll see about that once I get my hands on you.”

--------

FINIS.

[saturniasxenos]

Nature / Flora ID Pack

Inside this pack, you will find: Pronouns, Titles, Names, and Genders that relate to Nature, Flora, Flowers, Trees, and anything alike!

This is my 3rd NPT pack! 💜 I hope you find what you are looking for. I try to add as MUCH content as possible, so even if you don't find it, you can have an idea! (I'm still not the best at titles...)

🍀 Pronouns:

Flo/Florae/Flora/Floras/Floraself

Flo/Flora/Floral/Florals/Floralself

Flo/Flow/Flower/Flowers/Flowerself

Le/Lea/Leaf/Leafs/Leafself

Tre/Tree/Trees/Trees/Treeself

Wo/Woo/Wood/Woods/Woodself

For/Fores/Forest/Forests/Forestself

Na/Natu/Nature/Natures/Natureself

Clo/Clove/Clover/Clovers/Cloverself

Pla/Plan/Plant/Plants/Plantself

Bi/Bio/Bios/Bios/Bioself

Mo/Moss/Mossy/Mosses/Mossself

Gra/Grass/Grassy/Grasses/Grassself

Ec/Eco/Ecos/Ecos/Ecoself

Fun/Fung/Fungi/Fungus/Fungiself

Mush/Mushro/Mushroom/Mushrooms/Mushroomself

Al/Alga/Algae/Algaes/Algaeself

Ea/Ear/Earth/Earths/Earthself

Ju/Jung/Jungle/Jungles/Jungleself

Pi/Pin/Pine/Pines/Pineself

Ta/Tai/Taiga/Taigas/Taigaself

So/Soi/Soil/Soils/Soilself

Gre/Gree/Green/Greens/Greenself

Dru/Drui/Druid/Druids/Druidself

Fai/Fair/Fairy/Fairys/Fairyself

Ge/Geo/Geos/Geos/Geoself

Ro/Rock/Rocks/Rocks/Rockself

Spri/Sprin/Spring/Springs/Springself

Su/Sum/Summer/Summers/Summerself

Tro/Trop/Tropical/Tropics/Tropicalself

Wi/Wil/Wild/Wilds/Wildself

Wil/Wilde/Wilderness/Wilderness/Wildernessself

Gar/Gard/Garden/Gardens/Gardenself

Bir/Birc/Birch/Birchs/Birchself

Oa/Oak/Oaks/Oaks/Oakself

Spru/Spruc/Spruce/Spruces/Spruceself

Oa/Oas/Oasis/Oasis/Oasisself

Ri/Riv/River/Rivers/Riverself

La/Lak/Lake/Lakes/Lakeself

Ra/Rai/Rain/Rains/Rainself

Wi/Wint/Winter/Winters/Winterself

Fro/Fros/Frost/Frosts/Frostself

Fa/Fall/Falls/Falls/Fallself

Au/Autu/Autumn/Autumns/Autumnself

🌲/🌲's

🍀/🍀's

🌸/🌸's

🌿/🌿's

🌱/🌱's

🌳/🌳's

🌵/🌵's

🍃/🍃's

🌻/🌻's

🌹/🌹's

🌧/🌧's

☀/☀'s

❄/❄'s

💨/💨's

💧/💧's

🌸 Titles:

Preserver of The Forest

(X) Who Nurtures

Born From The Forest

Guardian of The Forest

Dancer of The Desert

(X) Who Guards The Oasis

Child of The Trees

Floral Founder

Seeker of The Leaves

(X) Who Dances With The Petals

Druid of The Land

Wings of The Forest

Nurturing The Land

Nurturer of The Forest

Nature's Guardian

Child of Mother Nature

Guardian of Mother Nature

Raindrop on The Leaf

Dancing in The Wind

Guardian of The Crops

Child of The Nymph

The Water Dancer

The River Traveler

🍃 Names:

Fem: Azalea, Aurora, Aster, Bellatrix, Belladonna, Blossom, Coral, Calla, Camellia, Dahlia, Daisy, Dawn, Dove, Dandelion, Ember, Flora, Floria, Giselle, Heather, Holly, Ivy, Jade, Juliet, Jasmine, Luna, Lunar, Lotus, Lily, Lilac, Lavender, Magnolia, Marigold, Meadow, Moon, Maple, Nova, Opal, Petunia, Poppy, Plum, Primrose, Paisley, Rosamund, Rose, Rosa, Rainy, Raine, Stella, Summer, Thea, Violet, Verna, Vine, Willow, Zinna,

Masc: Acacius, August, Arthur, Acorn, Arno, Aire, Beckett, Bear, Birch, Cedar, Cliff, Clay, Corvus, Clayton, Cove, Canyon, Callum, Caspian, Dune, Dylan, Elwood, Finn, Fielder, Falcon, Fox, Forest, Florian, Flint, Griffin, Hunter, Jasper, Jonah, Kai, Leo, Luan, Lennox, Micah, Oliver, Quill, Oscar, Orson, Roscoe, Rainier, Rhodes, Reed, Ronan, Rowan, Spruce, Sol, Thorne, Thorn, Wilder, Winter, Weston,

Neu: Arbor, Ashton, Ash, Agate, Autumn, Aspen, Bay, Berry, Barley, Brae, Bryony, Basil, Brooks, Bourne, Cereus, Clover, Crow, Cypress, Chamomile, Everest, Eden, Fawn, Farley, Finley, Frost, Fern, Foxley, Hazel, Harper, Hyacinth, Iris, Juniper, Jay, Jett, Koa, Krow, Lake, Leaf, Lynx, Oakley, Nightshade, Onyx, Orion, Olive, Pike, Pepper, Prairie, Phoenix, Robin, River, Raven, Rye, Scout, Sage, Stone, Sable, Snowden, Storm, Thistle, Wolf, Wolfe, Wulfwynn, Wren, Zen, Zev, Zephyr,

🌲 Genders:

Natureserenic - a gender related to spending your days in the middle of nowhere inside your cottage overgrown with nature, cats, dogs, and peacefulness.

Rotgrowth - A gender that has a deep connection to the idea of new plant life growing out of dead, rotting, decaying bodies such as animals and humans.

Vancouldian - a gender related to tall evergreen trees blowing in the wind against a cloudy sky

Regenderation - A gender connected to all things related to regeneration and growth. Medicine, nature, the life aspect, shades of pinks and greens, etc.

Mouanipre - a gender connected to baby animals, daisies, wildflowers, flower crowns, soft grass, meadows, fawns, bunnies, lambs, soft fur, sleepy baby animals, pastel colors, and cute baby animals resting in soft meadows.

Heliangender - a gender related to, affected by, or connected to sunflowers.

Convolvulaceaeic - A gender that has a deep connection to the Convolvulaceae Family of flowers.

Naturegender - Gender relating to nature/plants

Asteraceaeica - gender that has a deep connection to the Asteraceae Family of flowers.

[femmehysteria]

Best Character Named X Poll

FOLLOW @best-character-named-x-poll

I'm doing a series of "Best Character Named X" polls where all the characters have the same first name but are from completely different media, feel free to send in name/charcacter suggestions, I'm posting one poll a day. New polls scheduled for 1:30PM GMT everyday.

ask box closed for now

WILL BE POSTING POLLS ON @best-character-named-x-poll FROM FEB 1ST

If your favourite character is not included in the poll very sorry i have either never heard of them or actively chose not to include them as theres only 6 characters per poll. Characters will only count of that is their first name, surnames do not count.

Round 85: David

Round 86: Tiffany

Round 87: Charlie

Round 88: Sandy

Round 89: Cody

Round 90: Amanda

Round 91: Jeremy

Past Polls and Poll Ideas under the cut

Names that I have a complete list for*

Caroline, Tyler, Louis, Leonard, Rebecca, Steve, Nicole, Isabelle, Victoria, Katherine, Jade, Alex, Sophie, Greg, Jake, Ellie, Isaac, Robin, Tony, Annie, Lisa, Margaret, Oliver, Clark, Kara, Phoebe, Emma, Ruby, Bart, Alfie, Beth, Julian, Nancy, Penny, Margaret, Tessa, Erica, Theresa, George, Kevin, Sebastian, Felix, Martin, Michael, Erin, Caleb, Helen, Charlotte, Kyle, Martha, Diana, Elsa, Gary, Zoe, Connor, Colin, Daisy, Eric, Maya, Adam, Andy, Magnus, Alma, Nora, Alice, Spike, Leon, Marcel, Kim, Juno, Sue, Chris, Otto, Donald, Daphne, Kate, Todd, Ned, Ken, Angel, Judy, Jo, Hazel, Naomi, Diego, Miranda, Joel, Lila, Duncan, Dexter, Meredith, Pearl, Lily, Malcolm, Napolean, Joan, Nico, Jamie, Nadia, Velma, Jill, Kiera, Rory, Evan, Tam, Klaus, Neil, Derek, Michelle, Luna, Laila, Cordelia, Zack, Imogen, Felicity, Cindy, Alicia, Kelly, Alan, April, Astrid, Delilah, Jodie, Claudia, Juliet, Karen, Jonas, Milo, Celia, Hannah, Joy, Ethan, Katya, Aria, Atticus, Ian, Cynthia, Faye, Frank, Boo, River, Corey, Gabrielle, Minerva, Ebony, Zia, Beverly, Rudy, Georgina

Names I have an incomplete list for (welcome to send character suggestions)

Richter, Sean, Troy, Cain, Agatha, Warren, Percy, Reggie, Mina, Ryan, Felicia, Dylan, Josh, Shirley, Debbie, Jared, June, Mabel, Ray, Chad, Moe, Hugh, Fearne, Christine, Joe, August, May, Scarlet, Alana, Leela, Manny, Dean, Francis, Mason, Oscar, Quinn, Guy, Ulrich, Wally, Yasmin, Tobias, Woody, Sabrina, Quentin, Margot, Alina, Matilda, Freya, Kendra, Angus, Ophelia, Leisel, Zelda, Adora, Piper, Scarlet, Sheila, Valentine, Laurie, Laurel, Fitz, Violet, Gabriel, Ford, Artemis, Owen, Bianca, Newton, Summer, Darcy, Noah, Taylor, Miriam, Hugh, Aurora, Hank, Henry, Dawn, Delia, Cosmo, Wanda, Zeke, Cecil, Aiden, Calvin, Ayesha, Beatrice, Parker, Chase, Hunter, Tina, Misty, Amaya, Amara, Harvey, Talia, Tatiana, Tanya, Orion, Eugene, Kit, Bo, Duke, Blue, Cameron, Rudolf, Mara, Marianne, Carl

Feel free to send more suggestions

*subject to change, you can still submit a character if there is no strikethrough if you think theres a character that its an absolute crime i dont add. Please don't suggest anything for the names with a strikethrough as they are polls that are already in my queue waiting to be published.

Past Polls

Round 1: Peter : WINNER: Peter Parker (Spider-Man)

Round 2: Elizabeth : WINNER: Elizabeth Swann (Pirates of the Caribbean)

Round 3: Jason : WINNER: Jason Mendoza (The Good Place)

Round 4: Eve : WINNER: EVE (WALL-E)

Round 5: Fred : WINNER: Fred Jones (Scooby-Doo)

Round 6: Rachel : WINNER: Rachel (Animorphs)

Round 7: Arthur : WINNER: Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Round 8: Amy : WINNER: Amy Pond (Doctor Who)

Round 9: Tom : WINNER: Tom (Tom and Jerry)

Round 10: Claire : WINNER: Clare Devlin (Derry Girls)

Round 11: James : WINNER: James (Pokemon)

Round 12: Max : WINNER: Max (Black Sails)

Round 13: Simon : WINNER: Simon Belmont (Castlevania)

Round 14: Jane : WINNER: Jane Crocker (Homestuck)

Round 15: Victor : WINNER: Victor Nikiforov (Yuri On Ice)

Round 16: Mary : WINNER: Mary Poppins (Mary Poppins)

Round 17: Will : WINNER: Will Graham (Hannibal)

Round 18: Laura : WINNER: Laura Palmer (Twin Peaks)

Round 19: Ben : WINNER: Ben "Obi-Wan" Kenobi (Star Wars)

Round 20: Chloe : WINNER: Chloe Price (Life Is Strange)

Round 21: John : WINNER: Jonathan Sims (The Magnus Archives)

Round 22: Lydia : WINNER: Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice)

Round 23: Mark : WINNER: Marc Spector (Moon Knight)

Round 24: Jess : WINNER: Jesse Pinkman (Breaking Bad)

Round 25: Theo : WINNER: Theobald Gumbar (Dimension 20: A Crown Of Candy)

Round 26: Sarah: WINNER: Sarah Jane Smith (Doctor Who)

Round 27: Richard : WINNER: Richard Gansey III (The Raven Cycle)

Round 28: Cass : WINNER: Cassandra Cain (Batman)

Round 29: Edward : WINNER: Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Round 30: Carm : WINNER: Carmen Sandiego (Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?)

Round 31: Hal : WINNER: HAL9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey)

Round 32: Sid : WINNER: Sydney Adamu (The Bear)

Round 33: Jack : WINNER: Captain Jack Harkness (Doctor Who)

Round 34: Stephanie : WINNER: Stephanie Brown (Batman)

Round 35: Ash : WINNER: Ash Ketchum (Pokemon)

Round 36: Veronica : WINNER: Veronica Sawyer (Heathers)

Round 37: Kurt : WINNER: Kurt Wagner aka Nightcrawler (X-Men)

Round 38: Eleanor : WINNER: Eleanor Shellstrop (The Good Place)

Round 39: Nathan : WINNER: Nathan Young (Misfits)

Round 40: Fiona : WINNER: Princess Fiona (Shrek)

Round 41: Gale : WINNER: Gayle Waters-Waters (Chris Fleming)

Round 42: Barbara : WINNER: Barbara Millicent Roberts aka Barbie (Barbie)

Round 43: Sam : WINNER: Samwise Gamgee (Lord of the Rings)

Round 44: Grace : WINNER: Grace Chastity (Nerdy Prudes Must Die)

Round 45: Barry : WINNER: Barry Bluejeans (The Adventure Zone)

Round 46: Raven : WINNER: Raven (Teen Titans)

Round 47: Dan : WINNER: Danny Fenton (Danny Phantom)

Round 48: Mia : WINNER: Mia Fey (Ace Attorney)

Round 49: Matt : WINNER: Matt Murdock (Daredevil)

Round 50: Rose : WINNER: Rose Tyler (Doctor Who)

Round 51: Robert : WINNER: Robbie Rotten (LazyTown)

Round 52: Lola : WINNER: Lola Bunny (Space Jam)

Round 53: Scott : WINNER: Scott Summers aka Cyclops (X-Men)

Round 54: Olivia : WINNER: Olivia Octavious (Spiderverse)

Round 55: Finn : WINNER: Finn the Human (Adventure Time)

Round 56: Emily : WINNER: Emily Charlton (The Devil Wears Prada)

Round 57: Elliot : WINNER: Eliot Spencer (Leverage)

Round 58: Sonia : WINNER: Sonia (Pokemon)

Round 59: Gideon : WINNER: Gideon Nav (The Locked Tomb)

Round 60: Jen : WINNER: Jennifer Check (Jennifer's Body)

Round 61: Miles : WINNER: Miles Morales (Spider-Man)

Round 62: Lana : WINNER: Lana Skye (Ace Attorney)

Round 63: Spencer : WINNER: Spencer Shay (iCarly)

Round 64: Tracy : WINNER: Tracy Turnbald (Hairspray!)

Round 65: Luke : WINNER: Luke Skywalker (Star Wars)

Round 66: Natalie : WINNER: Natalie Scatorccio (Yellowjackets)

Round 67: Harry : WINNER: Harry Du Bois (Disco Elysium)

Round 68: Lucy : WINNER: Lucy van Pelt (Peanuts)

Round 69: Damian : WINNER: Damian Wayne (Batman)

Round 70: Tabitha : WINNER: Tabitha Casper (Dan and Phil Games: Sims 4)

Round 71: Nick : WINNER: Nicholas D. Wolfwood (Trigun)

Round 72: Gwen : WINNER: Guinevere (Merlin)

Round 73: Paul : WINNER: Paulette Bonafonte (Legally Blonde)

Round 74: Abigail : WINNER: Abigail Hobbs (Hannibal)

Round 75: Jordan : WINNER: Jordan Baker (The Great Gatsby)

Round 76: Donna : WINNER: Donna Noble (Doctor Who)

Round 77: Morgan : WINNER: Morgana (Merlin)

Round 78: Allison : WINNER: Alison Cooper (BBC Ghosts)

Round 79: Patrick : WINNER: Patrick Star (Spongebob Squarepants)

Round 80: Linda : WINNER: Linda Belcher (Bob's Burgers)

Round 81: Philip : WINNER: Philip J. Fry (Futurama)

Round 82: Clarisse : WINNER: Clarisse La Rue (Percy Jackson)

Round 83: Jeff

Round 84: Maria

[cut-the-camera]

Halloween with Charlie Spring

CHARLIE SPRING X MALE READER

You two have been planning it together for weeks, he managed to convince his mum to let you come over for halloween so you had the whole night planned

He would constantly be sending you pictures of costume ideas or decorations or Tiktok's of things you could bake or films you could plan

In the weeks leading up to halloween the two of you would go on various 'autumn themed dates' whether that's pumpkin picking, corn mazes, apple picking, haunted houses, pumpkin carving, scary film nights, walks in the woods, baking etc (you'd be like those cringy 'couple goals' instagram accounts)

He gets very particular about the decorations, the two of you very much adopt the 'I tell you where to put things and you put the there' or else he gets very frustrated

He has the clever and creative ideas and you make it happen, whether that's hanging up ghosts or stringing up lights

His dad and Tori enjoy themselves watching him boss you around

The two of you might take Oliver and your younger sibling if you have one trick or treating. You'd both find your best last minute costumes and happily escort them from house to house collecting sweets and little toys and chocolates. (You'd both beam if any of the houses allowed you to take some sweets too)

The two of you cuddle up under blankets watching scary/halloween films, with flinching and snuggling closer into each other when things get too scary

You'd both talk about your future together and your dreams of taking your own kids trick or treating and what cute costumes you'd dress them up in

At the end of the night you would take any left over trick or treat sweet up to your room and continue the movie night there

HALLOWEEN PARTY

If he wasn't invited to a party that you went to you would desperately want to bring him with you. He may decline this offer because he doesn't want to crash your friends party

He'd stalk keep up to date with how the party's going through your instagram story (getting only a little bit jealous)

If you did go together, you two would be the kings of gender bent couple costumes whether it's Romeo and Juliet, devil and angel, barbie and ken etc. (this would be after the two of you complain at length about their being very little option for same sex couple costumes)

Before you left you would be excitedly getting ready in your rooms, helping each other with your make up and costumes, taking countless selfies and pictures of each other to post on your stories and social media. A picture of the two of you kissing in a cute couple costume would inevitably become one of your phone backgrounds/lockscreens

If the whole group went, Darcy and Tao would beg you allllll to do a group costume. Whether that's men in black, heathers power rangers, ninja turtles etc

I can't imagine you'd stray far from each other at a party, sticking by each others side and ending up cuddling on the sofa or outside looking up at the fireworks or stars

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

REQUESTS

[mistandshcdow]

saltburn x shakespeare, a character and costume analysis 🧚🏼‍♂️🕸️🍾

because this movie isn’t that good, but god is it pretty. this is not an attempt to make the film appear more brilliant than it is—the script and direction does that just fine without my help. it is, however, a testament to the costume design and my own adoration of shakespearean influence in media. so many spoilers under the cut.

despite being the romeo type, elordi’s felix is cast as juliet, embodying clare danes’ iconic 1996 costume. but while juliet’s wings and white dress signal purity and innocence, felix’s wings are more ‘the fallen angel’ by alexander canabel. he is also the only main character not directly drawing from the party’s theme, dressing from the wrong play. considering he ends up dead, maybe this wasn’t the best plan—stick to the dress code folks. his manner of death (poisoning) also matches the death of romeo, driven to suicide at the supposed loss of his lover.

farleigh is bottom, the hapless (terrible) actor who ends up the butt of a fairy’s practical joke and complicated politics. despite being in the family, farleigh is always an outsider, a donkey in fairy court. this costume is also hilariously literal when you think abt it

rosamund pike beautifully embodies the fairy queen titania, which i think is perfect for her: someone who appears regal and untouchable, but easily succumbs to pride and petty gossip at the slightest opportunity.

barry keoghan’s oliver quick is our robin goodfellow, or puck. puck is the one who moves all the pieces in ‘midsummer,’ from enchanting the lovers to cursing bottom, just as oliver is the mastermind behind the downfall of the cattons. it’s also a visual fake-out, as the deer antlers give the impression of him being a prey animal out of his element, when really he’s the most in control.

while less explicitly shakespearean, venetia’s spiderweb dress, dotted with dewdrops and complete with a spider hanging down the open back is a reference to verses of ‘midsummer’ such as act 2 scene 1: ‘and i serve the fairy queen, to dew her orbs upon the green,’ and act 2 scene 2, ‘weaving spiders come not here,’ all lines spoken by fairies in service of titania.

[winniemaywebber]

hi bestie!! from those intimacy prompts: could I please request “i’d rather sit and do nothing with you than do anything with anyone else.” for Jean & Croz, and “your collar’s all crooked, let me fix it” for Olive & Dougie? Love you honey!! 🫶

hi darling!!! I'm sorry these took so long - my brain didn't let me make a coherent sentence for a week and it was torture 💔 ily!!!! under the cut to save space

“i’d rather sit and do nothing with you than do anything with anyone else.”

Harry Crosby, newly enlisted in the United States Army Air Force, has a date to keep. Ever since he had set his eyes on beautiful Jean Campbell - Jeanie, he called her. Jeanie Bug, affectionately - in the debate class he had been ordered to take in order to get his GPA up, he had been taken with her. It was her beautiful brown eyes he had noticed first, her delicately rouged cheeks. But it was that smile, dazzling, so big it made those eyes sparkle that had made him fall for her - hook, line and sinker.

As he reaches the building to await Jeanie after debate club, he is greeted by a friend.

“Back so soon, Crosby?”

“Nah,” he laughs. “Waiting on Jean.”

“Of course. Say, which branch did ya choose?”

“Air Force. You?”

“Navy.”

Harry reaches over and offers his hand to his friend. They shake, a silent moment passing between them.

“Well, good luck, Crosby. See ya in a few years.”

“See ya, pal.”

At that moment, the classroom door swings open. Sweet Jeanie Campbell stands in the doorway, her cheeks flushed as she blows a strand of hair away from her head.

“Bing!” She runs to him, burying herself in his arms and sighing with relief. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Not long at all, Jeanie Bug. How was your day?”

“Ugh, don't even get me started–”

“Miss Campbell, you're up!”

“You're not done?” Harry questions, glancing glancing the lecture hall as the door closes. “I thought–”

“That's what I came out to tell you. We're running a little over time.”

“That's okay, darling. I'll be here, don't you fret.”

“Good,” she smiles, kissing him on the cheek. “Won't be long.”

***

An hour passes, Harry growing restless and beginning to pace the hallways. He pats his pockets numerous times, ensuring that he had in fact pocketed the small square box that had been sitting on his dresser for a week.

“Come on, Jeanie Bug,” he whispers to himself, checking his wristwatch. They'd missed the start of the movie by now, but there was still dinner - there was still time.

Thirty minutes later, she emerges, eyes tired and curly brown hair all over the place, as if she'd been stressfully running her hands through it.

“Darling,” she sighs, patting down her hair and smoothing her skirt. “You waited!”

“I told you I would, honey,” he shrugs, pulling her close to him. “We've missed the movie, though.”

“Oh, heck,” she replies, wincing apologetically. “That's what I get for being so darn competitive.”

“Hey, don't ever let it go. It's one of the many things I love about you.”

She pulls him into a quick kiss, stroking at his cheek as he blushes. “Come on,” he whispers, taking her hand. “Let's take a stroll around the park. It's a nice night.”

***

After a long walk, a bench to sit on is welcomed by the pair, aching feet finally able to relax.

“Sorry tonight was a bust, my love,” Jean apologizes again, laying her head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Hey, no need. This is nice. I'd rather sit and do nothing with you than do anything with anyone else.”

“Ditto,” she whispers in response.

“In fact,” Harry starts, moving from his spot on the bench and kneeling in front of her. She gasps, eyes immediately filling with tears as her glasses begin to fog up. He pulls the box from his pocket and opens it, revealing a simple gold band with a singular diamond. “I'd like to do that for the rest of my life. What do you say, Jeanie Bug?”

“Oh, Bing,” she weeps. “Yes. A thousand times over.”

“your collar’s all crooked, let me fix it”

“Darling, you look like you're about to pass out,” Olive says, observing Jules’ eyes as they glaze over. “Earth to Juliet,” she urges, waving a hand in front of her face to try and get her attention.

“S-sorry,” she stutters, shaking her head as she returns to herself. “I'm just–I'm so nervous.”

“About what, chickie?” Val pipes up. “You're marrying your boy. Smooth sailing from here!”

“Yes!” Vika replies, nodding enthusiastically. “This is the day we've been waiting for!”

The girls hear a clink from the other side of the room, Jean mixing her famous martinis for them all with equipment they'd procured from the hotel bar the night before. Jean had known that Jules would need a drink pre-ceremony, knowing those last minute jitters all too well. It was Jo that had somehow sweet talked Rosie into speaking to the barman, knowing his lawyer charm would work a treat.

“Here,” Jean says, shoving the glass into Jules’ hand. “Drink up, pumpkin. Only half an hour to go.” Jo helps Jean hand the glasses to the other girls, before raising her glass.

“The Bradys,” she says, everyone repeating her words. After a sip, her face contorting at the strength of the drink, she turns to Jules and places a hand upon her shoulder. “Now, doll. Do you need us to check up on anything?”

“If one of you could walk over to the church…make sure everything is set–”

“I've got it, chicken,” Olive soothes, draping the silk shawl that matches her bridesmaid dress over her shoulders. “Anyone wanna join?”

“Me!” Vika agrees, raising her hand.

“You're keen,” Olive winks. “I'll look at the floral arrangements - you go look at Benny.”

“Oh, hush,” she giggles, the alcohol already taking effect on her. “But I'm not denying it.”

“Cheeky!”

***

The gardenias and bows tied perfectly at the end of each pew, Olive takes a final look around the currently empty church. She takes a deep breath, sighing longingly over the day that's to come and is filled with so much excitement for her friends that she could burst into tears right then and there.

“Sis,” she hears, turning to greet the voice. Benny Demarco sidles up to her, squeezing her hand quickly before pulling her into a hug. “You look wonderful.”

“Oh, thank you, doll. Wait til you see your girl though.”

“She's–she's not my girl.”

“Not yet, Benny. Give it time.”

“I just–oh…oh my goodness.”

Her eyes follow his gaze, spotting Vika across the church. “There she is,” Olive whispers, chuckling at how Benny’s eyes soften upon seeing her. “Told you.”

“Holy sh–”

“Hey, no cursing in church, Demarco.”

It's Olive’s turn to soften, feeling Dougie’s arm wrap around her waist and plant a kiss on her temple as he squeezes her closer to him.

“I'll give you guys a minute,” Benny says, smiling at the couple. He begins to make his way over to Vika, who smiles broadly as he approaches.

“Wish they'd get it together,” Dougie murmurs, watching them.

“Don't we all,” Olive sighs, shaking her head. “Maybe Val can lock them in a room to sort it out, hm?”

“Worked for us, didn't it?” He laughs, kissing her deeply. “You look so beautiful, my girl.”

“As do you, lovey. Here,” she says, voice soft. “Your collar’s all crooked. Let me fix it.”

“What would I do without you, Ollie?”

“I don't think either of us want to find out,” she giggles, patting his collar as it's straightened to perfection. “There, baby. All done.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Hey, our turn soon.”

“Our turn soon,” she nods, James taking her hand and toying with her engagement ring. “Blakely's first, then us.”

“I could just go ask now–”

She squeals as he jokingly pulls her by the hand towards the padre.

“James Robert, don't you dare!”

[sagesolsticewrites]

Pen Pal

(John Brady x Juliet Thompson (OC))

Jules gets a letter from her boy an ocean away— as well as a message from a new friend.

This is just a little blurb about Jules getting the letter Olive wrote to her in Part 7 of @winniemaywebber’s masterpiece Honeysuckle Rose! It’s all coming together 👀🤭 If you haven’t read Winnie’s stuff, go do that NOW, she’s absolutely incredible 🥹 and don’t worry, more Jules & Brady is coming soon!

@winniemaywebber @ginabaker1666

Juliet unlocks the door with a sigh, juggling the pile of essays she has to grade in one arm and her keys and purse in the other.

“I’m home!” She calls, knowing her father would be in his study and her mother would likely be in the kitchen preparing for dinner.

“Hi, sweetheart,” her mother grins, poking her head out as Juliet drops her purse onto the small table in the foyer, “How was your day?”

Juliet mumbles something about quizzes and essays and missing homework as she follows her mother’s voice back into the kitchen to dump the essays at the end of the table; she’ll take them up to her desk later.

“Oh, Jules, honey, there’s a letter from John for y—”

The envelope is snatched out of her hands before her mother can even finish her sentence, Juliet’s eyebrows rising at the thickness of it. It was usually her sending him long-winded letters, not the other way around.

“I didn’t know John started writing a novel,” her mother teases, prompting Juliet to roll her eyes playfully.

“Ha ha,” she deadpans, “Is it alright if I…?”

Her mother nods as Juliet glances up towards where her room is, waving her off with an indulgent smile.

“Go on, I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

Scooping up the pile of essays once more, she scurries up to her room, dumping the papers on her desk and eagerly tearing open the envelope as she settles on the edge of her bed.

Lounging in the golden light of sunset, ready to let her sweetheart’s words wash over her, her heart flutters and her smile grows as her eyes land on the words he starts every letter with— My darling Jules.

Her nagging curiosity soon gets the better of her, though, and she can’t help but peek at the extra pages. It was rare for him to write more than two or three pages, and there were easily at least six stuffed in the envelope.

Her curiosity only increases upon seeing the last four pages written in an entirely different hand, and she flicks back to the first, scanning for an explanation.

My darling Jules,

I hope you’re doing well, and the hooligans you call students aren’t running you too ragged. Just say the word, I’m not afraid to scold a few teenagers when I get back, okay?

I got your last letter along with Ma’s, and I know I keep saying it, but thank you so much for being there for my parents, sweet girl. Ma can’t stop gushing about how wonderful it is to have you over for dinner and according to her I’m a frequent topic of conversation— which is incredibly flattering, sweetheart, but I hope she’s keeping the more embarrassing stories of my childhood quiet? If she hasn’t, please, please forget about them for my sake.

Things have been mostly quiet here, though I imagine you’d like the new Red Cross girl we’ve acquired on base. According to everyone else she showed up out of nowhere, but she’s settled in remarkably well, especially for a Brit being surrounded by Americans. DeMarco and Douglass especially have taken a particular liking to her, which, well… It's been interesting, to say the least. Her name’s Olive, and would you believe it, she’s also a fan of our friend Shakespeare! When I ran into her reading The Tempest of course I had to tell her about my best girl, the Shakespeare expert, and when she asked about sending along some of her thoughts on his work I told her you’d be more than happy to talk about it with someone much smarter than me.

She happened to run into me this morning and handed me something I’m sure you’ll love: an analysis of the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet. Enjoy, sweetheart.

I miss you more than words can say, honey. You’re on my mind all day and in my dreams every night. I have plenty of things here to keep me occupied, but every once in a while I get a swell of missing you, and I find myself sitting outside my barracks, watching the sunrise and imagining you’re there with me.

As always, I’m counting down the days until I’m back with you, Jules.

Sending all my love,

John

She takes a moment to clutch the letter to her chest, sending up a grateful prayer for every word she got. It meant he was safe and whole for the time being.

Then she promptly turns her attention to the letter from… Olive, Johnny had said?

There were three pages, covered front and back, of delightfully insightful analysis in increasingly erratic, though legible, penmanship, and some part of her scholarly brain lights up at Olive’s ideas, already forming a reply in her mind.

The last page was a letter from Olive, which Juliet devoured eagerly. Anyone who had such wonderful ideas about The Bard was someone she was eager to be friends with.

Jules,

Let me know if I've still got it in me to study our favorite man; it's been a long time. I wrote this in a restless rush, dying to get the words out of my brain and onto the paper after a night of little sleep.

I don't know how much Brady has told you, so I will give you a quick synopsis: Dougie and Benny both made it clear they had feelings for me weeks ago, and I felt quite stuck in the middle, my friend. Benny, however, came to the realization that he saw me as a friend and told me so last night as he walked me home. Can you believe who saw the whole thing happen, both of us wrapped in what I saw as a platonic, friendly embrace to mark the start of a lasting friendship? Dougie has gone absolutely ballistic and I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I have tried to reason with him, but he will not listen, nor can anyone make him. What would you do, my dear? Leave it alone? Keep at it?

My brain is full of so many foggy thoughts that the only thing that settled them was writing this for you. I do hope we can be friends, Jules. You sound like my kind of person.

Hope to hear from you soon,

Your friend,

Olive.

“Oh dear, the poor thing,” Juliet murmurs to herself upon reading about Olive’s predicament. Grabbing a pen and paper, she begins drafting a reply to what she hopes will turn out to be a regular pen pal.

Olive,

It’s lovely to meet you! Your words about what is personally one of my favorite scenes in the entirety of Shakespeare’s works are utterly exquisite, and I look forward to hearing more! (Frankly, it’s a breath of fresh air after hearing what some of the high schoolers I teach have to say on the subject— but don’t tell them I said that!) I’d love to hear your thoughts on The Tempest if you’d be so inclined?

As far as your Benny and Douglass predicament… unfortunately I’m not very experienced in that field, but hopefully the small bit of advice I can give can help.

Keep at it, Olive. Douglass will surely see reason soon, and if he doesn’t, well… if he refuses to listen, perhaps that means he simply doesn’t deserve you. But keep trying to get through to him. Sometimes all we can do in these circumstances is keep trying.

I wish you the best, Olive, and do keep me informed on how things go if you wish. I believe this is the start of a lovely friendship.

Your friend,

Juliet

She steps back for a moment, considering something, before adding a postscript, and then another:

P.S. I’ve attached a brief summary of my thoughts on Twelfth Night— while my namesake may have her origins in one of Shakespeare’s tragedies, I’ve always been fond of his comedies. I love a good happy ending, don’t you?

P.P.S. I know John doesn’t always tell me everything that’s going on over there. He says he doesn’t want me to worry, but at the very least I need to know if he’s taking care of himself. If it isn’t too much to ask, would you mind keeping an eye on him and letting me know how he’s really doing? He puts on a brave face, which is admirable of course, but I wish he knew he doesn’t have to do that with me. It would mean the world to me but please do tell me if I’ve overstepped, dear. I’d hate to mess up our new friendship just as it’s getting started.

Setting that aside, Juliet scribbles down a quick, rambling essay on her thoughts about the connections between Viola, Olivia, and Duke Orsino and sets it atop the reply to Olive.

Her pen is hovering over yet another blank sheet of paper, ready to begin her reply to John, when her mothers voice drifts up from downstairs.

She sets her pen down with a sigh, mentally filing away her half-drafted letter to her beau— correspondence would have to wait until after dinner, it seems.

“Hi Daddy,” Juliet says, pausing to press a kiss to her father’s cheek before taking her place at the table.

“Hi sweetheart,” he smiles, taking her hand as Juliet takes her mother’s to lead them in grace.

“How’s John doing?” He asks as the meal commences, “Seems he had a lot to say this time.”

Juliet playfully rolls her eyes at his teasing, “He’s fine. Actually, it wasn’t just a letter from him. He says they’ve got a new Red Cross girl on base— her name’s Olive— and somehow the topic of Shakespeare and, well, me came up in one of their conversations. Apparently she’s a fan, and asked if she could send along some of her thoughts on some of his work, so I guess I’ve got a new pen pal,” she chirps.

“Oh that’s wonderful, sweetheart,” her mother beams.

“That’s very nice,” her father nods, “Not enough young people these days appreciating the classics.”

The Thompson women exchange a look at the beginning of a familiar rant about the new generation’s lack of interest in classic literature, and quickly change the topic.

“Any other news from John?”

Jules shakes her head.

“He’s said it’s fairly quiet over there. Most of his letter was about Olive and thanking me for making sure his parents are alright while he’s away. Then again,” she adds, “I’m not sure he could tell me what’s happening even if he wanted to. I did ask Olive if she wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on him. She seemed very sweet in her letter, and…” she sighs, “If I’m being honest, the idea of having someone there who can tell me if something does happen makes me a little less worried.”

“Honey,” her mother reaches for her hand, “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Don’t you think, George?”

“Hm?” Her father looks up, clearly lost in his mumbling about the problems of this generation and not having heard a word they said, “Oh, um… yes, wonderful idea.”

Juliet and her mother exchange a smile, and the meal continues in relative silence until Jules excuses herself to finish her letter to John.

Settling at her desk with a fresh sheet of paper and a smile, the light of her small lamp illuminating the one picture of John she has— from his graduation day, when they had just started dating— she begins to write:

My dearest, Johnny…

[cherryrohan]

Could you please come up with S4 headcanons? I'm not over the fact that FB tried to tarnish Angie's reputation. It's like the writers didn't bother to find out what her personality or her family background was like. This is the first confirmed wlw wedding since S2 and they made it all about Melted Barbie

i haven't played all stars in ages atp so thankfully i have no idea what you're talking about 🙂‍↕️

angie (and cora) – ambassador for a lgbtq+ mental health charity. in my head she's married to cora. angie also hosts a lesbian dating show.

hazeem – does cocktail masterclasses. met priya on after sun and they've been dating since. he's her biggest supporter fr!!

angie and james – still dating. moved in together a few months after the show.

lexi and kobi – re-united on ex on the beach. lexi still does modelling, and kobi still does hairdressing but works with some celebrities.

najuma – ambassador for savage x fenty

will – most followed boy from the season. does some modelling.

bruno – went on a comedy tour

youcef – does high fashion modelling

juliet – absolutely doing those tik tok lives where they're trying to sell you everything under the sun.

valentina – came out as bi after the show. happily dating a woman (ME!)

dylan, tiffany and tom – faded into obscurity

oliver – still works as a tattoo artist but also does modelling. goes viral on twitter every 6 months for how hot he is.