#Deny thy father and refuse thy name

[geo-rosey]

Reading Romeo and Juliet in class:

Juiiet: Romeo, doff thy name, And, for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself.

*Everyone trying desperately to understand what she's saying*

Me, in the back: awww, they're so Jegulus coded

[eudaimonia83]

“With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot keep love out.”

Lucien is clearly a student of Shakespeare in this piece and I lurve it.

@elucienweekofficial Day Four — High Society

A prince climbing up the balcony for a chance to earn a gentle kiss from his princess.

This is my first ever commission and I cannot thank poppypola_ enough for this stunning work. The vision was the balcony scene near the end of the film ‘Letters to Juliet,’ where Charlie climbed the balcony in an act to reach Sophie after a slight misunderstanding. Elain and Lucien are incredibly regency coded and their romance is no different—fleeting looks, careful touches, and quiet kisses in her garden with roguish humor and playful blushes.

Art credit poppypola_ on Instagram

Commissioned by — Me

Reposts allowed with full credit

[tidetower]

My only love sprung from my only hate!

Too early seen unknown, and known too late!

Prodigious birth of love it is to me

That I must love a loathed enemy.

A Romeo & Juliet inspired art of Addam & Daeron by jurimaart

[brunchable]

Steve Rogers finally gets drunk.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x f!reader Themes: Funny? and CUTE. STEVE BEING CUTE WHILE DRUNK. Summary: Steve got wrecked by Thor's Asgardian Liquor and now he's stumbling under your balcony, reciting Shakepeare's Romeo and Juliet to you. A/N: I stumbled over a prompt that I have long lost now and this was the fruit.

It was a perfectly quiet night, and you were unwinding on your balcony, half lost in thought, when the unmistakable sound of someone quoting Romeo and Juliet—or at least attempting to—echoed from below.

“O, she doth teach the torches to burn... so—hic—bright!”

Rolling your eyes, you assumed it was some drunk wandering the street. But then, in a voice far louder than necessary, the mystery romantic slurred, “It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night... like a rich jewel in... uh... someone’s ear!”

You sighed, trying to ignore it. But then there was a strange thunk against your temple—a small pebble had just bounced off your head.

“Ow!” you hissed, standing and scanning the area, annoyed—until you spotted Steve Rogers, lurching slightly, down below on the sidewalk.

You watched in amazement as he squinted up at you, attempting to focus and swaying on his feet like a flag in a strong breeze. He seemed to be mentally assembling the pieces of a big plan, his face all determination and zero sense. Another pebble tumbled out of his hand as he wobbled, barely avoiding tripping over his own feet in the process.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?” he shouted, looking about as stable as a newborn giraffe on roller skates.

You blinked. “Steve... are you okay?”

Steve flung one arm into the air, as if delivering a grand declaration, nearly toppling backward. “It is the east, and Juliet is the... uhm... Juliet is... Juliet!” He thrust a hand forward, fingers spread wide, as if that added extra meaning. “And you—you—are...”

He paused, visibly struggling, his other hand braced against a streetlamp for support.

“A total mess?” you offered, eyebrows raised.

“A goddess!” he slurred, blinking up at you with the most sincere, lovelorn look you’d ever seen. “A bright angel!” he continued, pulling himself up, trying—and failing—to straighten his posture.

For a moment, he seemed to try and get a grip, but his feet betrayed him, and he ended up doing an awkward spin, arms windmilling, before stabilizing himself.

“Steve, how much have you had to drink?” you asked, starting to laugh despite yourself.

“Only... one cup,” he replied, attempting to measure out what he must’ve thought was a “tiny” amount with his fingers. But the gap between his thumb and forefinger was about the size of a baseball. “Well... one Asgardian... goblet.” He grinned up at you, eyes bright. “A small one!”

You tried to bite back a laugh as Steve clasped his hands over his heart, gazing up at you with tragic romance. “Deny thy father and refuse thy—thy name!” He paused, his forehead wrinkling in concentration. “Wait... did I—did I skip a part?”

“Just a few lines,” you teased. “You also hit me with a rock.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, frowning. He bent down, swayed, and then picked up a handful of pebbles. “Doth my lady forgive me?”

“Steve, don’t you dare throw those at me.”

He looked down at the pebbles in his hand, confused. Then, with an exaggerated wink, he tossed them aside like he’d just disposed of a dangerous weapon. “Not a pebble in sight!” He shot you a triumphant, lopsided smile.

“And why art thou—no, wait—why are you out here, Juliet?”

“I live here, Steve,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face. “You’re the one making a scene.”

But Steve only clasped his heart, looking utterly enchanted. “Oh, fair maiden... would you come down and—uh, wait... no. Would you let down your hair?” He stopped, perplexed. “No, wait, that’s... that’s Rapunzel.” He scratched his head, lost. “Same thing, right?”

With a sigh, you leaned over the balcony railing, looking down at him with a smirk. “Steve, you should probably get home before you accidentally wander into traffic or—”

But he suddenly looked up at you with the most determined expression you’d ever seen, his eyes glassy but oddly focused.

“Doth thou love me?” he cried, one hand raised in a fist of drunken valor. “Say it true, or I shall be...” he paused, struggling, “...a total disaster!”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Steve Rogers, get your tipsy Shakespearean self home!”

He beamed up at you, his goofy grin full of pure, unfiltered adoration. “Parting is such sweet... uh...” he faltered. “...sorrow?”

Steve, swaying dramatically, looked up at you with a sudden, steely determination that only a man in his state could manage. “If thou shall not come down… then I… I shall climb up!” He pointed to the fire escape, his face alight with misguided heroism.

“Steve, please don’t—”

But it was too late. He grabbed the bottom rung with a graceless, lurching motion, grinning up at you with sheer triumph. “I’m coming, my fair maiden!”

With all the poise of a baby deer, he hoisted himself up, grunting as he fumbled his way onto the next step. Each rung seemed to be a new, Herculean task as he struggled to stay upright, clutching the railings like his life depended on it. His foot slipped once, making him lurch sideways, but he shot you a reassuring thumbs-up, completely oblivious to the danger.

“Steve! You’re gonna hurt yourself! Seriously, get down!” you called, half horrified, half laughing.

“Fear not, my lady!” he slurred, clinging to the railing and taking a very, very slow step up. “I am... coming for you!”

As he ascended, he attempted another line from the play, fumbling it badly. “Uh… But soft! What... yonder... light and window... um... something?” He shot you a sheepish grin. “Hold on... almost... got it.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of wobbling and mumbling fragments of Shakespeare, he reached your level on the fire escape. He extended a hand dramatically, nearly toppling over in the process, and declared, “I have arrived!”

You laughed, hands on your hips as he wobbled in front of you. “Steve, that was a lot more ‘Romeo in need of a medic’ than ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ You’re absolutely out of it.”

He blinked, swaying as he tried to focus on you. “I came for thee,” he said proudly, managing to stand up straight—though his grip on the railing suggested it was doing most of the work.

Steve, still gripping the railing for dear life, looked at you with a mischievous glint in his glassy eyes.

“Fair Juliet… couldst thou… come a bit closer?” He held out a hand, wiggling his fingers invitingly, his face lit with pure, drunken delight. “I have something… uh… very important to tell thee.”

You arched a skeptical brow. “Steve, I’m pretty sure you can say it from there.”

He squinted, trying to look tragic but only succeeding in looking adorably pouty. “Nay… ‘tis… a secret of the heart,” he slurred, placing a hand over his chest with a lopsided grin. “I must whisper it… so only thou can hear it.”

Rolling your eyes but grinning despite yourself, you leaned a little closer, watching as his gaze flicked from your face to your lips. 

“Alright, Romeo, what’s this ‘secret of the heart?’” you asked, half-expecting him to spout more mangled Shakespeare.

But instead, as soon as you were close enough, Steve leaned forward, his hand sliding around the back of your neck, and he pressed his lips to yours in a soft, surprisingly gentle kiss from across the railing.

Caught off guard, you froze, feeling the warmth of his mouth against yours. Then, with a laugh bubbling up, you pulled back slightly, blinking in shock as he gave you a pleased, slightly dazed smile.

“There it is,” he whispered, eyes twinkling. “My secret… is that thou art… perfect.” His gaze softened, and he gave a dopey smile. “And... very kissable.”

You shook your head, laughing. “Alright, Romeo. That was smooth—but I think it’s time to get you inside before you ‘heroically’ declare your love to the whole neighborhood.”

He grinned, still clutching the railing, looking like he’d just conquered the world. “Only for thee,” he slurred, leaning into your touch as you helped him down, his expression dreamy. “Only... ever for thee.”

Just as you were helping Steve down from the fire escape, a voice floated up from the street below.

“Steve! Where the hell are you?” It was Bucky, sounding frustrated and more than a little exasperated. You could see him pacing the sidewalk, looking around like he was on some kind of ridiculous rescue mission.

Steve’s eyes widened, and he pressed a finger to his lips, eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked at you. 

“Shhh!” he whispered, grinning like a kid playing hide-and-seek. His attempt at silence was immediately betrayed by a giggle that escaped his mouth, and he put both hands over his lips, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Steve, I know you’re around here somewhere! Get down here before you fall off something,” Bucky called out, still searching.

Steve, in a fit of tipsy brilliance, looked at you with a conspiratorial smirk and pointed toward your open window beside the balcony. Without a word, he started squeezing himself through, contorting like he thought he could make himself invisible in the process.

“Steve, what are you doing?” you whispered, half-laughing, as he awkwardly wedged his shoulders into the window, one leg hanging out, struggling like he was trying to sneak into a bank vault. He gestured wildly for you to help, but his clumsy movement only made him even more noticeable.

He leaned forward, eyes wide, and whispered, “Shhh! The enemy approaches!” He stifled another giggle, clearly thinking this was the funniest thing in the world.

Just then, Bucky looked up, and Steve flailed dramatically, accidentally bumping his head against the window frame with a muted “ow,” then snorted, laughing harder. He pressed his finger over his mouth again, hushing you through breathy laughter.

“What the…” Bucky stared, his gaze following Steve’s ridiculous pose as he tried to disappear through your window, half-in and half-out, his other leg kicking as he tried to haul himself through.

“Hey!” Bucky called, hands on his hips. “Rogers, get down here. Right now.”

Steve froze, peeking over the window frame like a deer caught in headlights, then gave you a pleading look, as if you were his partner in crime.

“Shh! The man downstairs… he cannot know I’m here,” Steve slurred dramatically, squinting as if Bucky were some kind of Shakespearean villain.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

“Steve, you’re on the fire escape, not a secret lair. Get down before you fall off and end up in the hospital.”

Steve waved a dismissive hand, a drowsy, lopsided grin on his face. “I’m in safe hands, Bucky! I have my fair maiden to protect me,” he announced proudly, glancing at you with such conviction that you had to stifle your laughter again.

Bucky groaned, his exasperation palpable as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, you’ve got one minute to say goodbye to your ‘fair maiden,’ then you’re coming with me,” he called, crossing his arms.

Steve turned back to you with a goofy grin, still wedged halfway through the window. 

“Didst thou hear that?” he whispered in a loud stage voice, pointing at Bucky. “The villain gives us but one more minute. But it shall be a glorious minute!”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him gently. “Alright, Romeo. Time to head home.”

With one last dramatic sigh, he extracted himself from your window, blew you a clumsy, theatrical kiss, and began his wobbly descent down the fire escape. As Bucky grabbed Steve by the shoulder, trying to steer him down the street, Steve spun around, clutching Bucky’s arm like he was clinging to the last lifeboat on a sinking ship.

“Unhand me, Mercutio!” Steve cried, throwing his other arm up with all the grandeur of a Shakespearean actor. “Thou art but a hindrance to my love! Dost thou not know I’m with Juliet?”

Bucky froze, staring at Steve in complete disbelief. “What did you just call me?” His expression was halfway between horrified and annoyed, eyebrows knitted in utter confusion.

Steve pulled himself up, looking deeply wounded, his hand over his heart. 

“Mercutio!” he slurred dramatically, pointing a shaky finger at Bucky. “You are the friend that doth betray me! I shall not be parted from my love!”

Bucky blinked, visibly trying to process this. “Mercutio? Steve, what the—” He looked up at you, helplessly gesturing at Steve. “I’m Mercutio now?”

Steve waved a dismissive hand. “Alas, yes, for you wouldst steal me away from my Juliet,” he said, glaring with the most intense puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

“Steve, I’m not Mercutio,” Bucky groaned, looking over at you as if hoping you could talk some sense into him. “You are absolutely out of your mind.”

But Steve seemed lost in his own world. He placed a hand over his heart, gazing longingly up at you again. 

“Juliet,” he called to you, his voice full of melodrama. “Mercutio hath come to tear us asunder.”

Bucky’s face scrunched up in pure irritation. “Steve, I’m trying to get you home before you fall flat on your face. You’re gonna thank me in the morning.”

Steve shook his head, looking at Bucky like he was the ultimate betrayer. “Mercutio… thou art a traitor,” he declared, voice wobbling with fake tragedy.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I swear, if you call me Mercutio one more time—”

“Mercutio!” Steve interrupted, leaning against him dramatically. “Wouldst thou poison my love? Dost thou come between us to ruin the most beautiful thing?”

Bucky let out a defeated sigh, looking over at you with an expression that screamed, Help me. “Your ‘Mercutio’ is about to drag you home, Rogers.”

But Steve just shook his head again, mumbling about “betrayal” and “unhand me, knave,” as Bucky steered him away, calling one last time over his shoulder to you, “Fear not, Juliet! I shall return! Mercutio’s treachery shall not prevail!” You stifled a laugh as Bucky, looking thoroughly done with it all, muttered to himself, “Mercutio… unbelievable.” He gave you one final, apologetic look as Steve continued to mumble protests about “Mercutio’s interference,” until they finally disappeared down the street, Bucky still muttering, “I’m not Mercutio.” Tags: @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @strawberrybisou @alyana-luvs-u

[thedeadpoets-blog]

oh romeo, wherefore art thou romeo? deny thy father and refuse thy name.

[starwars-dyke]

I love when I see a post saying “WHEREFORE ART THOU [insert name of a missing person],” while my Old English nerd ass knows that their usage of the phrase is completely wrong.

Quick history lesson:

“Wherefore art thou Romeo” is a well known phrase from William Shakespeare’s play Romeo and Juliet (obviously). During the time period it was written, the term “wherefore” meant “why.” The line right after this one is “deny thy father and refuse thy name.” In the play, Juliet’s family (Capulets) are an enemy of Romeo’s family (Montagues). Here, Juliet is asking Romeo why he must be a Montague. Not where he is.

So next time you guys are about to say “Wherefore art thou [insert name of a missing person],” remember that you’re not asking where this missing person is; you’re really asking “why are you [insert name of a missing person].”

Thank you for coming to my Nerd Talk. *Mic drop*

[demonic0angel]

Dead silent and anger management are vacationing in Europe. Danny and Jason are having fun reenacting castle scenes from favorite movies/books and trying to get their respective girlfriends involved.

“O’ Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet,” Jason said solemnly, standing atop some ruins to dramatically raise a hand to the sky.

Jazz’s lips twitched. She didn’t look at him, as she spoke to herself and quoted, “Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

Danny looked at Cass, who was also resisting a smile. Danny leaned close and then muttered, “Y’know, when I was playing around with Jason earlier, I think I forgot how cringey these two are.”

Breaking character, Jason turned to Danny with an offended gasp. “Excuse you! It’s not my fault that you’re literally uneducated and you’ve never read the classics!”

Danny booed. “The both of you are nerds!”

“Go fuck yourself, Fenton. You're the one who only watches movies!"

“Jason!” Jazz scolded. She gave him a stern stare and then continued quoting ‘Romeo and Juliet’, “I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized! Henceforth I never will be Romeo!”

Jason grumbled, “You skipped an entire part of my act.”

“Aww, alright, dearest. We can start the act over?”

Jason nodded primly and then burst into more speech. Danny took Cass’ hand and dragged her away, the both of them stifling their snickers as they snuck away from Jazz and Jason.

Danny gazed at Cass with a smile. "So now that they're distracted, wanna go and look at things on our own?"

Cass beamed and nodded, and off they went.

[hp-fanfic-archive]

Severitus Recs for Fics Posted On Archives Other Than AO3

Fanfiction.Net

Away in a Manger by Snapegirlkmf [Gen, Severitus, G, 186k]

On Christmas Eve, an unwanted child is left in a manger and found by a young Potions Master, changing both their lives forever.

Deny Thy Father And Refuse Thy Name by Piri Lupin-Snape [Severitus, Harry/Draco, Severus/Sirius/Remus, T, 104k]

Harry's in his 7th year and secrets, lies, and betrayals only add to the burdens of who he is. Can love and friendship help him overcome his trials, or will he lose himself forever?

Digging For The Bones by paganaidd [Gen, Severitus, M, 212k]

Because of a student death, new measures are being taken to screen students for abuse. With Dumbledore facing an enquiry, Snape is in charge of making sure every student receives an examination.

Family Means More Than Blood by WingsOfADream [Severitus, Harry/Draco, M, 422k]

A prophecy made in 1975 drastically changes the life of the boy who should have been known as Harry Potter.

Happy Days in Hell (Series) by enahma [Gen, Severitus, T, 380k, 3 Works]

A tale about a captivity which brings two unlikely persons closer - much closer.

In Blood Only by E.M. Snape [Gen, Severitus, M, 185k]

Snape is Harry's father. No one is happy to hear it.

*Last Will and Testament of Lily Evans Potter by chrmisha [Gen, Severitus, T, 40k]

Petunia Dursley is cleaning the attic and finds a previously unknown copy of Lily's will. Ecstatic at her discovery, she promptly abandons her burdensome nephew, along with Lily's will, on the doorstep of her childhood nemesis (aka, Severus Snape).

Mine by Gillian Middleton [Gen, Severitus, G, 26k]

Against his better judgement Severus Snape let a part of himself be used in a spell six years earlier. Now the consequences of his actions cannot be avoided any longer and Snape finds himself the father of a five year old boy-Harry Potter!

*Morphed Secrets by nightkitty555 [Severitus, Severus/Tonks, T, 349k]

Subconsciously concealing injuries after a fight prompts the discovery of metamorphmagus abilities in young Harry Potter. However, that ability had been covering up a very big secret for more than eleven years.

Nobody Cared by etherian [Gen, Severitus, T, 368k]

11 yr old Harry misses the Hogwarts Express. Snape is sent to find out why. What he finds changes any preconceived notions he might have had about the Boy-Who-Lived.

*Of Potions and Phobias by tt22123 [Gen, Severitus, G, 1k]

Severitus story with nightmares

*Reading The Signs by goldencompass [Gen, Severitus, G, 50k]

Harry is hurt and loses his voice. Will Snape help him find it?

The Trouble With Polyjuice by LilyEvansDouble [Gen, Severitus, T, 120k]

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione took the Polyjuice potion in 2nd year they never dreamed that it would uncover a lie that Lily Potter worked hard to hide. With the truth comes a new life for Harry because it brings him a whole new family. Or at the very least, a new father. Join Harry as life as he knows it is turned upside down.

Other Older Archives Available via the Wayback Machine

*Prisoners by Whitetail [Gen, Severitus, Harry & Severus & Hermione, T, 119k]

Left with partial paralysis after being tortured by Voldemort, Severus is sent to Bell Point, a secure location on the seaside owned by the Order of the Phoenix. However, he is not the only one who will be there, for Harry, refusing to express his emotions regarding Sirius’ death, has unknowingly invoked an ancient kind of magic that will force him to deal with them. Deaged to four years old, he has to contend with a bitter and broken Snape, who, like Harry, is being forced to live in a body that does not work the way it used to. These two vastly different people have beat the odds many times over, and somehow prevailed in a world that has tried time and time again to destroy them. But the challenges they now face are nothing like they’ve ever seen before. Will they rise to the occasion, or become prisoners within themselves?

*denotes personal favorites

Non-AO3 Fic Rec Masterlist Post

[ryo-asuka666]

This is so cheeks lowk 💔 probably will redo

“Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,And i'll no longer be a Capulet”

[incesthemes]

kripke era just makes me insane. season 1 is sam's conflict between his fate and his family (azazel vs dean). season 2 is dean's conflict between his fate and his family (duty vs sam). season 3 is about sam trying to fix dean's big, fucked-up mistake (selling his soul to revive sam). season 4 is about dean trying to fix sam's big, fucked-up mistake (drinking demon blood to [try to] revive dean). seasons 3 and 4 also prove that when they lose their family, they will inevitably drive themselves straight down the path of their destinies (dean becomes the righteous man and breaks the first seal; sam drinks demon blood to become powerful enough to kill lilith and break the final seal). and season 5 is their mutual confrontation of fate and family.

every single time, the main conflict creates a dichotomy where their fates, the paths they're meant to walk down, are diametrically opposed to their family, their brother. and every time the brother is threatened, they have no choice but to succumb to their fates—family is the only thing preventing them from destiny's warpath. they choose each other and that alone is the only thing that can save them. fate and family can't coexist because they were always meant to be enemies on opposite sides of the battlefield. it's a regular old romeo and juliet sort of tale, when you think about it, and it's only through the power of their love that they can oppose the lives carefully laid out for them—deny thy father and refuse thy name. it's a timeless tragedy. it's a toxic romance. god, what a show.

[lolitastories]

🪷WEDDING🪷

Rafe Cameron

“Mija, you can go on ahead to the club” I raise my head to watch my parents dressed up for something other than the country club. “We will meet you for dinner” My mother nods to my fathers words, sending a smile over to me.

“Remember to talk with Francine about the party” They didn’t wait for an answer, already halfway out the door. Ever since I could remember we barely spent time as a family. It was rare to get them at dinner so I knew that they weren’t going to be back for dinner. They remembered birthdays and holidays but other than that, nothing. They were there for some school events but I stopped letting them know about the few last ones my senior year because I felt like I was begging for attention.

“¡Bye Hon!” My dad screamed as the car backed up in the driveway. I closed the door and turned to get my purse.

“You need me to tell Jerry to get the other car ready?” I look over, shaking my head.

“No, thank you Ruby. I will drive myself today” She gives a gentle nod before walking away. As I get into the car I think of not even going but then I turn it one and I think I could skip the country club for today and maybe go to the beach? Then Francine comes to mind and I lose all hope of having a nice day by the waves. Once Francine sees me at the club she will make sure I stay there and I have to see her because she is part of a wedding I am helping plan. Francine is an old friend of my parents, like a second mother and since she has no kids she bestowed that onto me. I make my way to the club and before getting out of the car I take a deep breath and walk in.

“Miss, so glad to see you, how are your parents?” I jumped, hearing the enthusiastic voice from the club's host.

“They are doing great”

“That's amazing to hear, well enjoy your evening” He smiles quickly before running off to his next victims that were just walking in.

“Alone again?” I closed my eyes trying to calm my beating heart down again. People need to stop doing that.

“I feel like I should be reciting Shakespeare right now?” My head moved up seeing Rafe lean over the balcony. Light salmon pink shirt with a fresh buzz cut and the never missing gold ring. “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?” I lift my hand mocking chivalry. Rafe chuckles, shaking his head.

“So that makes me Juliet?” I shrug my shoulders

“Fuck that, there is no shame in a woman senerating a man” He stand up straight and with a smile, he looks down.

“Well continue my lady,”

“Deny thy father and refuse thy name;” Why was I giving it my all? I laugh inside at my stupidity right now. “Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”

“You always had a way with words” He smiled leaning back to his original pose.

“Yes,” Our heads turn to see Francine walking over to me with an unamused look. “Words she decides to keep hidden,” I smile respectfully, giving her a hug. “Hello Rafe,” I held an amused grin on my face. She was literally throwing daggers at him. We knew she didn’t like him, can you blame her? Rafe has a reputation.

“Francine-” She didn’t wait for him to finish before grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the club’s entrance and onto the garden.

“I thought you two were no longer friends”

“We are not,” I said rapidly, I lied quickly on my feet.

“I hope not, he's not a good boy for you my love,” Another smile, what I wanted to say was, “I know what i'm doing. I am too smart to fall for Rafe Cameron but if I did, I will take the blame” I only nod at her said advice. “Now, how about we talk about the wedding?” For a good hour I was following her along the country club and making notes on what exactly she wanted for the wedding. More flowers, clear chairs,mirrored floor, a release of butterflies, and no color other than sky blue and white of course.

“What were you thinking about the ceremony?” She lets out a quick squeal before rushing towards the cliff which was only a small hill with some height overlooking the beach. I walked quickly to see what she was pointing at with such a huge smile.

“We agreed on the beach,” I hear a contempt sigh leave her lips. Her shoulders fall and her eyes soften at the vision of the bride getting married there. “Can’t you see yourself there too?” Too focused on her happiness and excitement, her question caught me off guard. I look down again but quickly shake my head. “You have planned such beautiful weddings, where do you see yours?”

“I can’t set my mind on one,” I chuckled nervously. It wasn’t the whole truth but it wasn’t a lie. Of course I know what I have wanted for my future wedding since I was 6, but as a wedding planner there was one thing I hated the most about planning and it was the grooms. All they did was walk behind the bride, nodding and smiling. Agreeing on everything. I want to think it's to make them happy because a wedding was made out to be more for the bride but hearing the groom speak they let out subtle comments about no caring. I want my future husband to care. I want him to be present in what is the beginning of our future. I want him to be the bridezilla along with me.

“Well don’t settle for only this view” She pointed out. “You can have a destination wedding like somewhere in Italy.” Her eyes grow bigger, “Or the south of France!” She jumps giggling at her ideas. “I am going to go look at venues now, you know how easily they can book up!” There was really no use in saying it was too early to think about my wedding because nothing can change that woman's mind when she gets this excited about something.

“I need a drink-” I closed up my book and was ready to leave when I heard a voice from the shore.

“I got an extra beer” My gaze meets Rafe holding a beer up. “Is it too trashy for you my lady?” My eyes stay glued to him and a small smile appears on my face. “I don’t know any Shakespeare if that's what you want to hear” His arm slowly falls to his side. I look over to the country club and catch a glimpse through the window only to catch Francine rushing out of her office.

“Not trashy Cameron” I smile as I take a seat on the hill. “But I don’t drink beer,” I carefully push myself off and balance myself to walk down the steep hill until I am standing in front of Rafe.

“Worth a shot” He shrugs, putting the beer in his pocket. “I know you don’t drink at all.” I shake my head noticing he only had one beer in sight.

“Honey?!” Our heads turn toward the top of the hill to find no one there but the scream of my name becoming louder and louder. Francine can wait another day

“How about you offer me an escape?” With a glimmer in his eyes he grabs my hand and rush's us down the shore. I take a glimpse unsure of the object but as we move closer I start to laugh. “You bring this everywhere just in case?” My breath is shaky, I am not used to running. I look back seeing the figure of Francine screaming out to me but I choose to turn back to Rafe.

“Who knows when a lady needs my saving,” He puts out his hand for me to take and I oblige. He helps me up to a small row boat and I take a seat on the furthest end.

“Need help?” Rafe shakes his head pushing us offshore and he rushes to get in. “Daddy wouldn’t let you use his yacht?” I smile. I look over to the horizon, as the sun meets, perfectly creating an orange hue.

“No,” He groans, making me chuckle at his annoyance. “Don’t want to risk leaving it unsupervised since those pogue pulled their little stunt on Toppers”

“You always ruin it with your talk about pogues,” I roll my eyes looking back at him again. His arms stop rowing at his eyebrows furrowed.

“It 's true!. Little dirty pogues who don’t come close to us should be taught a lesson soon and for good” I never associated myself with what he would call somebody a pogue but that's because I don’t see them as such. My life has consisted of following my parents and at school and work I am only surrounded by people who are considered good. I never leave my bubble. But money or no money, people are people. As long as you are a good person, you are rich in my book.

“You know,” I look straight into his eyes. “You always mentioned how little Francine makes you feel, do you realize that's how you try to make them feel?”. His small smile falls into a straight line. “Would you want me to treat you less just because of some stupid status?”

“It's not the same, those pogues!-”

“Are human Rafe,” I let out a sigh knowing this conversation was just like the past. “Human beings who weren’t blessed with opportunities we have. They work day and night. It doesn’t matter what their bank account says if they have a good heart.” I move closer to him. “I know you have a good heart too Rafe.” I move my hand under his chin to pull him closer. “That's why I choose to disobey my parents and Francine once in awhile,”

“We tried this once already” He whispers. A slight smile appears on my face remembering how I like and feel having him this close.

“I still have hope,” His forehead rests on mine and a slow breath leaves him. “It was wrong of me to try to change you,” my thumbs caressing his skin.

“I was acting too proud and stubborn. Everybody saw me as such so it angered me.” He opens his eyes, putting a bit of space between us. “I was willing to try but I didn’t want to disappoint you”

“It wasn’t a choice for you to decide what is right for me. I told you I didn’t care about what anybody said and if it went down in flames, I could handle that.”

“But you don’t deserve-” his words paused as I came closer. My lips on his but only for a longing quick kiss to shut him up.

“You put yourself down when I see you more than worthy. Worth the eyes of people judging. Worth the scolding of my parents and definitely worth the hours of talk Francine is sure to give me” I hear his chuckle along with mine. “Do you think we should try this again?” He nodded eagerly, grabbing my neck and pulling me closer but I was quicker and set my hand between us first. “Rules”

“Fine” He groans, pulling apart. He shakes his head before turning his body towards me. “Date night twice a week,” My head falls back in annoyance. When we first tried having a relationship it was hard to adjust. I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend and Rafe knew this and decided to stick around. Of course, not being my boyfriend, I wasn't allowed to go out past 8. Not to any party or bonfire by the beach. I was also busy with school and starting my job as a planner to make time for him. That was bad on my part and we had a lot of fights because of it. I also didn’t like going out much, more of a homebody.

“Fine, but one at home date” He whispers okay. “No Pogue talk unless necessary” We need to talk about the important things first.

“Got it.” He smiled at that?. “When Francine is present you give me my place,” I roll my eyes.

“She is a strong woman but I promise.” I would defend him when need be and when it's reasonable. “but if I have to throw myself against her you have to promise not to back down when not only Francine stands against you” my parents can be a handful too. I watch as he stands up placing his hand on his chest. I laughed mostly because the boat was rocking unsteadily. “Rafe!” I hold on looking up at him again.

“It isn’t what we say or think that defines us, but what we do,” I stood up carefully and was shocked at his words.

“You don’t know Shakespeare but you do Jane Austen?”

“You left a copy of her book behind and I got bored,” I rolled my eyes knowing that wasn’t true. “But back to my confession,” I look back as we try our hardest to stay steady. “I will prove to them that I am willing to be someone they see worthy of you.” I walk closer, placing my arms around his neck.

“The only opinion you need is mine, and I think you are worthy” I whisper as he lowers his head to meet mine.

“I have seen enough!” I turn around shocked but only to see a blurry Francine at shore screaming towards me. “Get back here young lady!” Those were the only clear words heard before Rafe and I went flying into the water. My body resurfaced laughing at the action. I look around finding Rafe swimming towards me.

“Am not ready to face the world yet” I smile hopeful towards him.

“And am not ready to face Francine yet so how about we row away?” I nod turning towards the boat. “You don’t have a curfew?” I groan hearing his laugh from behind me. He pushes me up and I slide into the boat.

“Never got to be a rebel teen, I think I have some headaches to make up for,” I turn to help him climb in.

“Then let's go.” he smiles, taking his place and rowing away. “This is not a good look on my part.” He laughs looking back at Francine. “Will definitely be hearing about this,”

“Such a bad influence,” I grin looking at him. “Guess what?” His eyes sparkled hearing my giddy tone.

“I saved your beer” My grin grows bigger as he laughs. I throw him the can and with ease he catches it.

“That's my girl” his girl.

[sleeplesswixard]

Fantoccio x gn!Reader (romantic)

Type: Headcanons, romantic, fluff, gender-neutral reader

Warnings: None!

Note: None!

Song: A Human's Touch - TWRP

"İ've had enough of you!"

——————————————————————

He's not that flirty, he usually expects from you most of the time, although, he does flirt with you.

Not into pyshical contact, only likes hugs if he's the one who goes for it first.(which he asks all the time)

(İf you have hair) He likes to play with your hair, braiding it, combing it, playing with it etc. İf your hair is long he'll probably call you "Rapunzel" or smthn (srry i'm so cringe)

Like i said before, he doesn't likes getting touched as long as he's the one who goes for it, but he loves when yo cuddle with him.

Little spoon. Always.

He's not the best at comforting, but he'll put his hat on you, will let you hug him if it'll make you feel better.

He has a lot of emotions, he just doesn't know how to express them.

You have to listen to the scripts and shows he's planning about, you can't run away from him he'll find you anyway.

He likes to listening you rambling to him as much as he loves to ramble his interests to you.

You guys played Romeo and Juliet at least four times. AT LEAST.

"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet!"

"...Did you really memorized all of this?"

He's kinda(!) cheesy, but you love it.

You're lucky, he can't stole any of your clothes cause they're too big for hım.

İt takes him a bit long to open up to you, if there's something wrong he won't say it directly. When he's under the weather he'll just come and lay against you until he wants to talk about what happened.

Sometimes he can't sleep at night, so he'll just watch you sleeping, he scares the crap out of you everytime.

You guys have matching shark onesies, YOU CAN'T CHANGE MY MİND.

——————————————————————

Hellooo!!! Thank you for reading my headcanons! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Not really a fan of Fanto but i managed to figure something out for him.

İf i have any grammar or spelling mistakes then i'm sorry, English is not my first language!

[whereisrendog]

He's on stage doing Shakespeare !!

"Rometho, Rometho, wherefore art thou, Rometho? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn, my love, And I'll no longer be a TheDog."

(Thanks for the request my fellow whereis!)

[alexdnn-art]

Aziraphale and Crowley reminded Shakespeare of a certain couple

Aziraphale: O Crowley, Crowley! Wherefore art thou Crowley? Deny thy father and refuse thy name Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be an angel Crowley [aside]: Shall I hear more? or shall I speak at this? Aziraphale: ‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thy self, though not a demon. O be some other name! What’s a demon? It’s nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, Not any part belonging to a being. What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. So Crowley would, were he not Crowley called, Retrain that dear kindness which he owes, without that title. Crowley, doff thy name; and for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself.

[cherryredlove]

☆ fair verona ☆

Modern! au Helaena Targaryen x female Reader SMUT

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• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Spurred by your best friend Cregan, you audtion to be a brave for the role of Romeo. Learning your lines is so much easier when your Juliet is also your longtime crush.

Word Count: 2.8k

Themes: SMUT, 18+, poetic lesbian smex, oral smex, face riding, titty sucking, praise, alcohol consumption, cigarettes, nice fluff tho

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The corridors of Blackwater University echo with the chatter of students bustling between classes. You find yourself standing at the notice board in the main hall, staring at the flyer announcing this year’s play: Romeo and Juliet. It’s tradition for the Drama Department to host an annual production, and this time, they’ve decided on Shakespeare’s timeless tragedy. You long to try out, but the fear of rejection is too strong.

“Thinking of trying out?” A familiar voice breaks your reverie. Cregan Stark, your best friend since forever and classmate in Valyrian History and Linguistics, appears beside you, flashing a teasing grin.

You shrug, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve been on stage.”

“You’d be great,” he insists, nudging you encouragingly. “Besides, imagine being a brave and playing Romeo. You would wow the entire audience!”

Rolling your eyes, you chuckle at his enthusiasm. Despite your reservations, you can’t deny the allure of the stage, the thrill of applause. And there’s another reason you’re considering it—a certain someone whose presence in the hallways never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

Helaena Targaryen, the ethereal beauty with her signature silver-blonde hair and pale eyes. You’ve harboured a quiet admiration for her, watching from afar without the guts to ask her out. You watch as she signs her name on the flyer, her friends cheering.

“Well, if you think so,” you concede finally, feeling a sense of determination. “I’ll give it a shot.” Cregan knocks you with his shoulder as you write out your name before dragging you to class.

The auditions are held in the university’s grand theatre, an antique hall with velvet seats and ornate chandeliers. As you wait for your turn, you catch a glimpse of Helaena. She’s sitting a few rows ahead, surrounded by friends, yet eyes looking ahead, lost in her thoughts.

When your name is called, you step onto the stage with a flutter of nerves. The audition goes smoothly, and the moment you finish, you feel a wave of exhilaration. Whether or not you get the part, you’ve taken the plunge.

A few days later, the cast list is posted. As you scan the names, your breath catches in your throat:

Romeo: [Your Name]

Juliet: Helaena Targaryen

A mix of excitement and nervousness floods your system. Cregan is ecstatic when he hears the news, clapping you on the back with congratulations.

“You’re going to be amazing, I'm getting a front row seat,” he assures you. “And maybe this is the chance you need to finally talk to her. My best gal needs some action, I bet it's got cobwebs down there!" Cregan laughs at his own joke, and then he yowls when you punch his arm in retaliation.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Rehearsals for Romeo and Juliet are underway before you know it. The director, Professor Harrold Westerling, is known for his passionate and somewhat unconventional methods. He often goes off on ranting tangents about his career as a thespian with the famous theatre group, the Kingsguards.

From the first rehearsal, Helaena proves to be a star. She’s a natural on stage, her performance enchanting and her characterisation of Juliet breathtaking. You can’t help but be drawn to her, and the scenes where your characters interact are charged with an undeniable chemistry.

“Romeo,” she says one afternoon, her voice just as lyrical as Shakespeare intended. “Deny thy father and refuse thy name.” You find yourself caught in her gaze. Her eyes, like amethysts, hold a challenge.

“Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet,” you respond, the words rolling off your tongue with ease.

Helaena smiles, a knowing glint in her eyes. It’s a look that suggests she sees more than you reveal, a look that makes your heart race.

Between scenes, she’s charming and playful, often catching you off guard with her flirtatious banter. “I hope you don’t mind me stealing the spotlight,” she teases one day as you stand outside smoking during a break, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and passing you her energy drink to take a sip from.

You laugh, feeling the warmth of her attention. “I think we can share it.”

Her presence is intoxicating, and each rehearsal leaves you dreaming for the next. Cregan notices your growing attachment and offers his support, often helping you rehearse lines late into the night. He insists on wearing a wig he nicked from his sister to play Juliet, much to your amusement.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The night of the play arrives, and the theatre buzzes with excitement. Backstage, the cast is a flurry of activity, adjusting costumes and going over last-minute notes. You can feel the energy in the air, a mix of nerves and anticipation.

Helaena stands beside you, radiant in her Juliet costume. She looks every bit the part, ethereal and beautiful. “Ready for tonight?” she asks, her eyes meeting yours.

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “As ready as I’ll ever be."

Her smile is reassuring, and she reaches out to hold your hand. You squeeze it tightly.

The curtain rises, and the play unfolds seamlessly. Each scene flows into the next, the audience captivated by the tragic tale of star-crossed lovers. Your chemistry with Helaena is unreal, each interaction charged with emotion and intensity.

Finally, the pivotal moment arrives—the kiss. As Romeo and Juliet, your characters share a tender, passionate kiss on stage. The audience holds its breath, and you spy Cregan sniffling into a tissue in the front row.

When your lips meet, time seems to slow. There’s a spark, an electric connection that goes beyond the script. The kiss lingers, and you sense something shift between you, an unspoken understanding.

As the performance comes to a close, the audience erupts into applause, and the theatre is filled with cheers and whistles. You take your bows, Helaena gripping your hand tightly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, the thrill of the performance still fresh in your mind.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The Targaryen twins, Baela and Rhaena, Helaena's close friends, throw a celebratory party at their house in the centre of King's Landing. The place is alive with music and laughter, students spilling into the garden and onto the balconies.

You arrive with Cregan, who promptly disappears into the crowd to try and see his own crush Jace, leaving you to navigate the throng of partygoers.

You find Helaena in the living room, surrounded by friends yet somehow separate, her presence commanding the room. She’s out of her costume now, dressed in a blue dress and a navy cardigan that accentuates her beauty.

When she sees you, her face lights up with a genuine smile. “There’s the star of the night,” she calls out, her voice carrying over the music. She holds out a bottle of Asshai beer for you to take.

You approach, feeling a rush of warmth at her words. “I think that title belongs to you.”

She laughs. “You were incredible tonight,” she says, her gaze unwavering. She takes your elbow, leading you slightly away from her friends. “That kiss… it felt real.”

You hesitate, the memory of the moment still vivid in your mind. “It did, didn’t it?”

There’s a pause, a charged silence filled with unspoken words. Around you, the party continues, but your focus remains solely on Helaena.

“Do you want to get some air?” she suggests, gesturing towards the garden.

Nodding, you follow her outside, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the heat of the party. The garden is illuminated by strings of fairy lights, casting a warm glow over the scene.

Helaena leads you to a quiet corner, away from the noise and commotion. She takes out a pack of cigarettes, offering you one. You pull out a sparkly lighter, lighting hers and yours. She nods in gratitude. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” she admits, her voice softer now.

Your heart races. You exhale shakily. “About the play?”

She shakes her head, a playful smile on her lips. “About us.”

There it is, the moment you’ve both been dancing around for weeks. The admission hangs in the air thickly.

“I’ve liked you for a while,” she confesses, her eyes searching yours. “I’ve always thought there was something special about you.”

Her words leave you breathless, a mix of surprise and elation flooding your senses. “I’ve felt the same way,” you admit, the truth spilling forth. “Ever since I saw you in the hallways during freshers week, I knew there was something about you that drew me in.

Helaena steps closer, her hand reaching for yours, smoke drifitng into the sky from her pink parted lips.

“What do you say we make this more than just a stage romance?” she suggests, her tone sincere.

You nod quickly, lips cracking into a smile. Helaena grins as well, the pair of you standing staring at each other goofily. She ashes out her cig, and you follow.

"Cmon," Helaena tugs your hand. "Let's go back to mine."

Helaena's room is perfectly her. Fairylights everywhere, lace curtains, the rich smell of incense in the air. You see bookshelves crammed with books, crystals, and plants. The walls are covered with posters and photographs of her with her friends.

Your gaze settled on the centrepiece of the room: a large, canopied bed draped in sheer, flowing curtains. The bed was covered in a soft, plush quilt.

Helaena released your hand and moved gracefully across the room, lighting a few candles perched on her windowsill. The warm glow illuminated her face, casting shadows that accentuated her high cheekbones and the lovely quality of her violet eyes.

Helaena reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against your cheek, her touch as gentle as the brush of silk. Slowly, almost as if testing the waters, she leaned in closer, her breath mingling with yours. With a gentle touch, she closed the distance between you, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. Her hands slid to the nape of your neck, pulling you deeper into the embrace.

Your hands rested on her hips, pulling her body flush against yours. The softness of her lips, the warmth of her touch, and the sweet scent of her hair all combined to create a heaven of Helaena.

Finally, after what felt like both an instant and a lifetime, you pulled back slightly.

Helaena smiled, her fingers tracing gently along your jawline. "I’ve wanted to do that for a while," she confessed, a playful glint in her eyes.

You laughed softly, a sense of pure relief washing over you. "I’m glad you did."

"Do you know how long I've wanted this? Us?" she whispers, her voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of the curtains in the breeze.

Your heart races. "I think I have an idea," you reply, your voice equally hushed. Your hand finds its way to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her soft silver hair as you pull her to you once more, your lips meeting hers in a fervent kiss.

This time, there is no hesitation, no lingering questions—only a shared hunger to taste each other, to consume. Helaena's hands slide over your shoulders, her touch light but insistent as she presses herself against you. You feel her fingers tracing a path down your spine, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake, and you respond in kind, your hands exploring the curve of her waist, the softness of her skin beneath the fabric of her dress. Helaena gasps into your mouth, adding fuel to the fire that has been burning between your legs.

As the kiss intensifies, Helaena guides you backwards toward the bed, her movements graceful and sure. You lose yourself in her touch, her scent, the sound of her soft gasps as your hands roam her body.

The edge of the bed meets the backs of your legs, and you sit down, drawing her into your lap. She straddles you, her dress flowing around her like liquid, the fabric cool against your heated skin. The sensation of her thighs pressing against yours sends a jolt of pleasure through you.

Helaena breaks the kiss. Her lips are slightly swollen from the intensity of your kisses, and her breath comes in soft, ragged bursts.

"Is this okay?" she asks. You can feel the heat of her pussy through her panties. You shift, desperate to touch her.

You nod, unable to tear your gaze away from her. "More than okay," you murmur, your voice thick.

Her smile is a thing of beauty. "Good," she replies simply, before leaning in to capture your lips once more, her movements fluid, as if she knows exactly how to draw every ounce of pleasure from you. Helaena's hands roam over your shoulders and down your chest, her touch igniting every nerve ending.

You mirror her movements, your fingers trailing along the line of her jaw, down the delicate column of her neck, and across her collarbone. She shivers beneath your touch, moaning as you cup her breasts through her dress. You feel a surge of pride at how you also have an effect on her.

With a gentle tug, Helaena draws the straps of her dress from her shoulders, letting the fabric pool around her waist.

"You are so beautiful," you murmur, the words escaping you.

Helaena's cheeks flush pink, and she ducks her head slightly, clearly pleased by your compliment. To thank you, she places your hands upon her perked tits once more, begging you silently to touch her. She arches against you, her body pliant and eager.

Your hands move, exploring the gentle curves of her body, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, all while she responds with a fervour that matches your own. You pull off your own dress, bearing yourself to her. Helaena's eyes speak her approval, and she pushes your shoulders down to lie on top of you.

You can feel the wetness of her pussy seep through her panties, leaving dampness on your hips. You remove the delicate lace, pulling your own off too. The both of you completely nude, Helaena begins grinding her bare pussy against yours. A moan gets caught in her throat as her clit grinds down against yours. Helaena throws her silvery head back, gasping as you lean up to flick your tongue against her tits. You suck lightly, the other one being tweaked by your hands. You feel a hot warmth begin to build in your sex, and a desperation to make Helaena cum.

Helaena gropes your own tits, moaning appreciatively.

You grab her hips, flipping her over onto her back to lie against the bed. She spreads her legs, fingers grazing between her labia to show you her soaked hole. Your eyes darken at the sight, and you lower your mouth onto her sopping pussy. Helaena releases a high keening noise as you suckle her clit, pointing your tongue and flicking against her sensitive nub. You lap up her juices, tongue sliding between her folds as your fingers press into her, gently beckoning against her sweet spot, drawing out a long orgasm from your girl.

Her hips buck wildly and she grasps the pillows tight, one hand squeezing and the other tugging your hair as you relentlessly eat her pussy through her orgasm. She creams against your tongue and your eyes roll back at the sweetness.

Helaena pants, eyes glazed but determined. She yanks your hands up, lying down fully. Her hands go to grab your hips. You raise an eyebrow as you realise what she wants.

"You sure flower?" You tease. Helaena huffs, purple eyes beseeching. She nods desperately and you lower your hips down to sit upon her face.

Her tongue instantly begins suckling your clit and you delight at the feeling. Her lips are wettened with your arousal. You can't help yourself but begin to grind against Helaena's small but expert tongue. Helaena looks to be in heaven as you ride her face, hands digging into your plush hips and ass, leaving fingernail crescents as she worships your swollen clit.

You don't last long, hands gripping the headboard as you throw your head back and cry out for Helaena, cumming right on her face. You fall back, panting, as Helaena reaches for you, drawing herself close and nestling in your arms.

As you both drift off, sleepily kissing and whispering words of promise, you thank the Gods for your beloved Juliet.

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AN: there is a severe lack of (lesbian) Helaena fics and modern au ones aswell, im here to fix this! genuinely loved writing this, i love modern flirty helaena and sassy bestie cregan. phia is such a goddess fr tho. check my masterlist for more modern aus and sexy times, luv ya!

[clairebear5510]

Branching off of when I made a comment on how I think Jason is a big community guy, and taking from the fact he LOVES literature.. you think he would do Shakespeare readings?

DICK: Are we still down for lunch?

JASON: No dude, I told you I have to read at the orphanage when you tried to schedule the first time.

DICK: Right.. right. Cya then’

DICK: * since when did he read at the orphanage…???*

-Jason, reading at the orphanage-

*higher pitched voice*

JASON: “OH ROMEO! WHEREFORE ART THOU, ROMEO? DENY THY FATHER, AND REFUSE THY NAME! OR,IF THOU WILT NOT BE SWORN MY LOVE,AND ILL NO LONGER BE A CAPULET.”

*now, in a deeper voice turning away dramatically

JASON: “SHALL I HEAR MORE? OR SHALL I SPEAK AT THIS!”

*orphans laugh, as Jason continues.

Theater kid Jason is so real.