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shroomidude · 9 months

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"So tell me how to do it

Tell me how to love like that

Does it take a lot of practice?

Or do you gotta have the knack?

I really wanna do it

I really wanna love like that

But I don't wanna practice

I just wanna have the knack"

Joss is begging Jinx to help her learn to love, ranting and asking why she can't find love and is confused on why it seems so hard. Jinx stayed silent, unsure what to say.

#oc #shroomis ocs #shroomis art #the knack #mother mother #josephines madness #lovey jinx

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lyriumlullaby-ao3 · 8 months

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an underrated line from Inquisition is one you get from Josie after ‘Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts’ if you tell her you felt out of place at the Winter Palace. She tells your Inquisitor that all sorts of serious conflicts have started over petty things like dropping the wrong spoon in Orlais, then says,

“Never underestimate the enmity of those for whom outrage is a sport.”

i dunno, i just feel like that… hits on… something relevant… can’t quite put my finger on it. no way to be sure. /s /lh

#lmao yeah i think about this line all the time every time i see someone being chronically online #or also sometimes when ppl are politically reactionary #but yeah when ppl are getting mad about blorbos it’s cool that’s their business!! hope that makes them happy /gen #but it always makes me say ‘okay. have fun. i’ll just be…. *wayyyy* over here’ lmao #not intending to be shady! nothing happened that i’m commenting on except that i got this line in my current play through again lol #dai #dragon age: inquisition #josephine montilyet #antares speaks

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anneapocalypse · 1 year

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Evidently Calla's flirting with every woman in Haven has already cut her off from hitting on Scout Harding. Heartbreaking.

#hope sera doesn't get mad when she ultimately goes for josephine lol #or maybe i don't hope that! could be interesting #calla cadash #anne plays dai

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bothsidesofaquestion · 2 years

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Little girls are calmer, less trouble making.

Talia Josephine:

@fatummortem

#::father & daughter dynamics #::about talia josephine #::talia josephine wagner #::a toddler that climbs on everything just madness!

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scottishstoner · 2 years

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“No matter what you learn, good, bad or indifferent - know that you are so much just as you are right now.”

- Aunt Josephine (Anne With An E 3x02)

#quotes #quote #words #wise words #anne with an e #aunt josephine #aunt jo #anne shirley cuthbert #anne shirley #been rewatching this show and man the quotes are !! iconic also : this show makes me cry a lot #WHY ONLY 3 SEASONS?? ITS BEEN 3 YEARS AND IM STILL MAD

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jadesigners · 2 months

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she frowns, not wanting to be on anyone's side. she's gonna just make herself busy with designing clothes and working on her commissions.

#.dashcom #.𝔫𝔬 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔭𝔢𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢 (josephine)#( she made her brother mad )#( she doesn't want a part of it anymore )

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aquatays-art · 10 months

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Nancy’s finally got her hands on our final girl, much to her horror. Meet Josephine.

Just something I’ve done since uni’s started back up (final semester omg 😱)

#original character #original characters #oc #oc’s #oc: nancy lucille walker #oc: josephine #horror #slashers #mad scientist #final girl #tw blood #digital art #my art

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redheadspark · 29 days

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heyy can i have benedict from bridgerton x reader prompt #17

A/N - I love this for Benedict! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Tame

Summary - Benedict was not one to tame his wife, he would rather let her be herself instead

Warnings - Just angst and fluff mixed together.

“The audacity of that woman!”

You plopped down on the loveseat, a scowl on your face as your husband, Benedict Bridgerton perked up from his spot at his office desk. You were rubbing your temples, and a headache was threatening to come over you rapidly from the conversation you said had some minutes before in the parlor. Now you simply wanted to hide out with your husband on the other side of the estate. It was mostly a home, not even an estate since it was rather small and only a handful of rooms.

“I take it the tea went well with your mother?” Benedict hummed in amusement as you glared at him. Benedict knew you weren’t truly mad at him, a soft smile on his lips as you leaned back a bit more in the loveseat, not even caring how un-ladylike you were appearing in the teal dress you decided to wear that day.

“She was not in the best of moods when discussing my brother, though I would rather hear her gossip about her circles of friends and their poor taste in men than to hear her talk about my brother in such a way,” You explained in a mellow tone. Benedict chuckled as he took out a spare notepad, then retrieved a charcoal pencil that he would use to sketch as he leaned back in his chair and eyed his wife. He loved the spitfire nature you had when you spoke about the dysfunctional nature of your family. It would make him chuckle to hear you rant and rage about your mother in particular, who was always trying to make a great impression in society but could never do it naturally.

“Do you wish to discuss it?” He asked, knowing fully well that it was better for you to let it all out than to hold it in. He discovered that tactic very early in their friendship together, even before he decided to court you and then ask for your hand in marriage. Bottling it up inside of you never worked in your favor in the past.

So you took in a long inhale, then recited the entire conversation word for word.

It was therapeutic for you to confide in Benedict with all that was happening with your family. At first, you were afraid to tell him, thinking that it would paint you in such a bad light to say such things about your family. However, Benedict was never one to judge when it came to family gossip. He too had to deal with his siblings and their antics, you two would swap stories in your early courting moments. But after seeing you in distress and about to be in tears after talking to your mother and father, he simply brought up the suggestion of talking about what happened.

After you unload all that was inside of you for at least 5 minutes, Benedict was watching your shoulders lose the tension and the stress melt away from your face. You were even breathing easier, a look of shock on your face as Benedict smiled widely at you and took your hand in his.

“Better?” He asked, you looking at him with a tentative smile and nodding your head.

“Much better,” You replied.

This was just the same, you talking wild about the gossip your mother was telling you. Gossip about your brother’s upcoming marriage and the apparent scandal behind your future sister-in-law. Benedict was giving you the space to unleash all of the rage that you had bottled up from the moment you left the tea and made it back home, his charcoal was already at work as he was sketching and listening to you at the same time. You then got up and paced back and forth, your hands moving wildly as your tone was going up and down with the insane story you were telling him.

“And poor Josephine! She’s so lovely and makes my brother happy, though my own mother does not see that and only sees her last name! The nerve of that woman, she’s acting the same way she did when she found out I was marrying you!” You commented, Benedict looking up briefly from his sketch and chuckling.

“She warmed up to me in the end, did she not?” He reasoned though you huffed at the words.

“Took her far too long to do so, dear,” You replied as you looked over at what he was doing. He was still sketching, you raising a brow to him and then pointing to his paper.

“What are you doing?” You questioned him, the heat and anger no longer evident in your voice as Benedict still remained calm at his desk.

“Simply drawing the love of my life,” He replied nonchalantly, you feeling that tension and anger that you had second ago melted away from the sentence as he looked up at you with his smile and the brightness in his eyes. You knew deep down he was listening and letting you get it all out of your system to feel more at ease, Benedict was amazing with you when it came to making you feel loved and safe. No matter that he loved amusement and being more light-hearted than his other siblings, he still had a heart and adored taking care of you. Perhaps even distract you and find a way to bring you ease.

Ever since you two started courting one another, you wanted Benedict of your fiery nature how you were no dainty flower. He never strayed from your warnings, in fact, he was more intrigued with you as you two were publicly a couple. Rumors and gossip about you and Benedict being together spread like wildfire, plenty of Benedict’s friends and fellow bachelors were warning him about your temper and how you were no true young lady because of the rules you would never follow.

Yet he still stayed on your arm, still accompanied you to balls and galas, and he would protect every rumor that would come your way. In the end, your wedding was the talk of the town, and you were now in a healthy marriage with the love of your life who saw more light in you than any other dared to in the past.

You walked over, seeing Benedict lean back a bit for you to see his handiwork as you peered over his shoulder, A small sketch of you on the couch, the curves along your arms and the detail on your cheeks and nose, it was a gorgeous sketch that he whipped out of nowhere.

His craft was nothing short of perfection in your eyes. He found beauty in everything around them, though he would brag that you were his muse from the moment he laid eyes on you at a Spring Ball so long ago. He would leave sketches of you to find all over the home, especially on days when you were stressed or sad. You’d find a sketch on your nightstand next to the bed, on the kitchen table next to your favorite tea cup, or even in your own office on top of your desk. You loved that quirk about him, among other things that had you falling in love with him. The one attribute that you adored about your husband was his eye to see the beauty in everything around him.

Including you.

“Benedict,” You hummed, seeing the sketch with wide eyes and a soft smile on your lips. You were no longer thinking about the tea or even the heated argument you had with your mother, you were simply staring at the simple and yet beautiful picture that your husband drew within minutes. Benedict got up from the chair and wrapped you in his arms, kissing you soundly and taking your breath away. He gained against your lips, your heart slamming against your chest rapidly as you were smiling against his lips in return.

When he pulled away, he peered down at you with his smile still evident while he reached with one hand to frame your face lovingly, “You are quite the woman with that fire in your belly, it only reflects in the beauty I see in you,”

“And you are far too good of a husband to let me be vocal and vile when I need to be,” you commented. Benedict was then chuckling as you pecked his lips, “How do you put up with me so easily when I act un-lady-like?”

“It’s not me putting up with you, it’s me letting you be yourself and feel open to do so,” He explained, you hugging him tightly. You adored being with Benedict all this time, through the tough and light times and even through the joy and the pain. Benedict never let your love dwindle or diminish, and you have a bright future to look forward to together. He gave you room to be ourself, to vent or lash out when it was stuck inside for far too long.

Leave it to Benedict to never tame you.

The End

May Prompt Session

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton #writing #fanfiction #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton season 3

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shroomidude · 9 months

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Hello! I am Shroomidude! I have gone by a lotta different names online over time and this is the one I've settled for. (Doesn't mean I don't love it, I love mycology!!) I've been dedicated to my art since first grade, now I'm in highschool and am still in love with art. I like to write as well, I've been trying to find a way to fit my characters into one story that wasn't wholly reliant on my friends. I ended up creating The Elevator. And that really helps me with the incorporation of my ocs.

++-------------------------------------------------++

My characters are as follows:

JINX- (#lovey jinx) Ruler over the domain known as the Lover's Garden. Friend of Josephine. She's considered a queen, rather than a goddess in her world. It's all for the pursuit of love and joy.

TAMSIN- (#tamsin belle) Dead and shoved into an afterlife in a cage, permanent slumber. She emits enough energy on her own to need to be kept in by force. Her guards fear her waking up.

HELIA- (#guardian helia) She passed and was one of the unfortunate few who were tasked with watching over Tamsin, and monitoring her slumber. She's not afraid of Tamsin waking up, she prays it would let them leave their nothingness.

JOSEPHINE- (#josephines madness) The "main character" and main keeper of documents covering the afterlives. Was once an anxious 16 year old girl who passed in a car crash after leaving her school. She's now an omen of death, working under The Elevator. Her preferred nickname is Joss.

GIDEON- (#gideons prickery) First person Joss met upon waking within the elevator. He's an ass just to be an ass. Most often walking around the human realm and not transporting souls of the dead. He's cursed by the elevator, not to be an omen of death. But to be forever in tune with the thoughts of those around him.

HELDOCHT- (#the elevator #the elder hole) An elder being, now commonly in an elevator form yet started as an endless hole. It holds over its designated "employees" with curses and markings and gives them meaning to their non-lives. In return, all the employees must do is bring the souls to their final rest.

TWENTY EIGHT- (#funky android) Once a spunky, albeit unhinged and nutty android, she now rules over her own playpen afterlife where she has subjects that view her like a monster goddess. She sees the world... differently than her subjects do. She sees them loving her, as she gifts them with everything they could possibly need. Her people can only watch as she completely destroys them and their homes.

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I have made 5 other tags for various things.

(#shroomis lore)- for my story lore and my lore-related stuff as I try to build it up.

(#unrelated shroom talks)- probably just talks about everything and anything I really don't know.

(#shroomis art)- my art stuff!!

(#shroomis ocs)- posts that feature my ocs!!!

(#shroomis asks)- ask posts of my story and ocs (and possibly me?!?!?! bonkers.)

++-------------------------------------------------++

(NOTICE: THIS POST MAY BE SUBJECT TO CHANGE AT ANY POINT IN TIME. THIS IS AN INTRODUCTION THAT SHOWS A STORY THAT IS STILL IN PROGRESS AND THEREFORE WILL BE CHANGED AS MY STORY CHANGES!! THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME!!! >B]

#the elevator #lovey jinx #tamsin belle #guardian helia #josephines madness #gideons prickery #the elder hole #funky android #shroomis lore #unrelated shroom talks #shroomis art #shroomis ocs #shroomis asks

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qirarey123 · 5 months

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Villains in Spider Ballerina's Universe

La Folia Vert (The Green Madness)

In the Spider Ballerina universe, Le Farceur Vert takes on the role of the Green Goblin, infusing the chaotic and mischievous spirit of a jester with the iconic menace of the Green Goblin.

Josephine's encounters with Le Folia Vert are marked by a dance of unpredictability. The jester's penchant for turning crime into a dark performance challenges Josephine's commitment to restoring order and beauty. Their dynamic is one of unpredictable twists and turns, as Le Folia Vert takes pleasure in turning the city into their chaotic stage.

••••

L'Ébéne Cygne(The Ebony Swan)

In the Spider Ballerina universe, L'Ébéne Cygne is a symbiotic entity inspired by Odile, the Black Swan from Swan Lake, combined with the malevolent nature of Venom.

Josephine faces a formidable adversary in The Ebony Swan, whose darkness is a twisted reflection of her own grace. L'Ébéne Cygne aims to corrupt the beauty of ballet, turning it into a nightmarish dance of shadows.

••••

The Pirouette Puppeteer(Doc Ock)

In the grand theaters of Paris, the Pirouette Puppeteer weaves a tale of mechanical marvels in form of ribbons and puppetry, bringing a unique blend of technology and dance to the Spider Ballerina universe.

Josephine's encounters with the Pirouette Puppeteer are a clash of artistic expression and technological innovation. The Pirouette Puppeteer sees Josephine as an obstacle in her quest for revenge, while Josephine struggles to understand the motivations behind the mechanical ballet of her former colleague. Their conflict is a dance of tragedy and technology, a battle between the elegance of ballet and the cold precision of machinery.

••••

The Charming Marquis(Chameleon)

In the aristocratic circles of Paris, the Charming Marquis is a master of disguise and manipulation, using his balletic finesse to infiltrate high society and weave a web of intrigue in the Spider Ballerina universe.

Josephine, unknowingly entangled in the Charming Marquis's schemes, finds herself facing a foe who uses elegance and charm as weapons. The Charming Marquis sees Josephine as a symbol of everything he believes was stolen from him, and their conflicts are a dance between grace and deception. Josephine, in turn, must navigate the intricacies of the social web to uncover the Charming Marquis's true identity and put an end to his manipulative ballet.

I actually have more ideas on Villains but this will do for now.

#across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spidersona #spiderman oc #my oc art #astv #spider ballerina #venom #green goblin #doc ock #chameleon

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moghedien · 2 months

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actually the Leliana to Josephine romance pipeline is so funny the more you consider it because for one thing you go from Leliana being all over you to Leliana being like "If you flirt with her again and you don't mean it, I will bury you behind Skyhold myself"

but also its kinda not out of the question that Leliana only actually gives you a shovel talk because she sees how you and Josephine are flirting and she sees that neither of you are realizing the other person is serious and she's like having Blight ptsd flashbacks of herself trying to flirt with the Warden like "Your hair? great. much better than the one time I say birds shit all over a lady's hair. You like girls? I'm not asking for any reason don't worry about. Pudding. Let's talk about pudding."

like the girl was desperate for the Warden and didn't know how to deal with it and was so mad that she didn't know how to deal with that when she finally had the courage to tell the Warden and the Warden was like "Oh I'm into you too Leliana," she was MORTIFIED because she had to go through ALLL OF THAT for someone who was FULLY AWARE that they were into her and they just simply didn't have the courtesy to INFORM HER of that and made her stoop to having to EXPLAIN HER FEELINGS VERY AWKWARDLY

so Leliana 10 years later is having war flashbacks because her bestie and Inquistor (who her bestie is obviously dating) don't realize that they're dating and are in the constant "haha, what if....I like you? consider" phase for all eternity and so she's like "gonna do my girl Josephine a favor and threaten the Inquisitor into revealing her feeling so she doesn't have to suffer* like I did" (suffer=admitting her feelings first)

#josephine montilyet #leliana #dragon age

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simplykorra · 4 months

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Beatrice has read this letter at least a dozen times since she woke up two days ago and found it in the empty spot on the bed next to her where Ava was supposed to be.

It was such a strange experience, to wake up to a letter, because as soon as she saw it - Beatrice knew exactly what it was.

Because Ava had always felt a little bit fleeting. Like a dream you’re trying to remember right after you wake up. You can remember the way it made you feel, but the details keep evaporating.

Ava was…is an enigma in a lot of ways. She’s so connected to the world, to the people around her, but she’s also very good at keeping everything at a distance.

For as much as Beatrice learned about her and understood her, she also knew very little.

Her leaving didn’t make Beatrice mad. It was sad and disappointing, it’s strangely kind of devastating how much she misses her - but everyone has something going on and Ava is no different.

The hardest part was explaining to everyone why she was suddenly gone. Beatrice didn’t want to make Ava a villain, didn’t see the point in it. She didn’t want to give her parents ammunition to say ‘we told you so’.

So she told them all that Ava had an emergency and had to go back home and take care of it. That she was sorry to miss the wedding and that she had a great time.

Beatrice isn’t sure if her parents believed it, she doesn't really care if they do or not.

She just knows that Josephine didn’t believe her.

She made it through the wedding, the one time she was really able to escape the sinking feeling in her stomach and the emptiness of how quiet and lonely this whole place felt without Ava.

Beatrice stood up there and watched her cousin get married and saw the joy on her face and shared a few warm smiles with her and it was wonderful.

The reception was quiet, she couldn't stop thinking about how much Ava would have loved it. Beatrice felt so disconnected through all of it - like her mind was wherever Ava was, even though she had no idea where that was.

Her stay didn’t last much longer than that, she had to get out of there - get away from them.

#avatrice #warrior nun #avatrice fanfiction #warrior nun fanfiction #real talk the response to the last chapter was insane #and genuinely made me anxious about the rest of the story #i don't want to disappoint <3

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ginabaker1666 · 2 months

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All Of Me

From the Love Letters Series

Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)

Jo struggles with her response to Rosie's first letter but later finds help in an unlikely friend with shared common ground. It's his second letter back-to-back, however, that stacks her worry like wobbly apple crates, ready to tumble at a moment's notice.

Read part 2 Here Follow along with the Love Letters Playlist

October 1943

My Dearest Robbie,

Today is Halloween, so it would be remiss of me not to wish you a Happy one. I know you won’t be celebrating; not that we are either, but it’s still heartwarming to see some of the littles in the neighborhood running up and down the streets looking for sweets. I’m saving a Hershey bar for when you’re back, so that we can share it like we always do. The leaves have all turned by now, and Prospect Park is a beautiful shade of golden hues. I’ve taken to walking with your sister, as it fills a small void in my days. She’s excellent company, and somehow always has some local gossip at the ready for when I need cheering up. I couldn’t help myself and told her the story of your bicycling disaster. Please don’t be too mad at me. I hope that by now, you’ve learned to ride a bike properly, and that poor Pappy hasn’t had to fish you out of any more ditches. Please thank him for me, because I don’t know what I would have done if he had not been there to rescue you.

If I know you at all, I know that you’ve been hemming and hawing over the weather over there, but the longer it rains in England, the better I feel knowing you’re on solid ground. I’m glad to know you’re able to find some respite in the Officers Club, even if it’s just some jazz records and mediocre scotch. Good company can make all the difference and it warms my heart to know you have that in your crew and fellow officers. I’m putting my bet in now on Nash and the Red Cross girl. Having someone is important, so if he finds that in her, I’m glad for them both. Tell Pappy not to be so pessimistic though, I’m sure Nash will make her very happy.

Speaking of having someone waiting, I paid a visit to Harry Crosby’s wife, Jean. I thought she could use a friend, so we spent an afternoon in the city, having lunch and doing some shopping. It’s lonely enough moving to a new city, but with her husband overseas, I can’t imagine how she feels. I know how I feel waiting for you, and so she must feel it tenfold. With the holidays approaching, I’ve invited her to spend Thanksgiving with us. I couldn’t bear the idea of her spending it alone. She’s a darling woman, and I agree, we will have to double with her and Harry once you’re both home.

Sweetheart, how you could ever think that I will not worry about you while you’re over there, is a mystery. I will worry, and miss you, every single day until you’re back home. I will be holding you to that date, Robbie, and am counting the days until we’re on the dance floor, together. Until then…

Forever yours,

Reaching for the bottle of perfume on the dresser, Jo quickly spritzed a generous helping of the floral scent on the paper in her hand, to ensure it lasted the long journey, before folding it up and sliding it into its designated envelope. Carefully, and with a delicate hand, she addressed the letter to Thorpe Abbotts Airbase. She had received Rosie’s first letter earlier in the week, and had spent that time drafting multiple responses; all of which had ended up in the waste paper basket in the corner of her bedroom. She had spent three nights mulling it over, before deciding that she should clear her head, and write as if he was sitting next to her. Well, it was not so much her deciding as it was advice from Jean Crosby. If anyone had experience in writing these types of letters, it was Jean. And so, Jo had written as if Rosie was sitting next to her; as if he was leaning across the table and telling her the details of his latest adventure with enthusiasm, and she had written back with equal vigor.

Picking up the letter, and her purse, she made her way from the bedroom, downstairs to where her mother was having coffee with Mrs. Rosenthal. Entering the kitchen, both women ceased their discussion to greet her, her mother holding out an envelope for her.

“Josephine, this came in the mail for you.”

Jo gently plucked the envelope from her mothers hand, smiling when she saw the handwriting on the front was none other than Rosie’s. Carefully, she slipped it into her purse to read once she was alone.

“Another letter so quickly?” Her mother’s grin widened. “He must miss you terribly.”

“He doesn’t write to me that frequently,” Mrs. Rosenthal joked, sending a subtle wink in Jo’s direction. “But then again, he’s not in love with me.”

“Somehow, I think he’ll always love you most, Mrs. Rosenthal, and I’m quite alright with that.” Jo smiled.

“Where are you off to?” Her mother asked, noticing that she had her purse in hand.

“Off to post this to Robbie, and then to meet Jean Crosby for lunch.”

“Oh, well then, travel safely, and let her know she’s welcome to come here for dinner tonight if she wants.”

“I’ll let her know, mom,” Jo smiled, moving to bid her mother goodbye with a quick peck to the cheek, before doing the same with Mrs. Rosenthal. “Now, you two can go back to your gossip.”

“It’s not gossip, Josephine, if we’re talking about our children.” The older woman’s voice held a lilt to it as Jo exited the kitchen.

“Then stop planning our wedding!” Jo called back with a laugh as she exited their home and made her way out into the Brooklyn sunshine.

The fall air was chilly, but not unbearably so as she walked down the block to the Post Office, letter in hand and a prayer in her mind that it would reach Rosie safely. She knew that the post could be unreliable, and take time to reach those stationed overseas, but she hoped against all odds that maybe her letter would get to its intended recipient a little faster than all the rest. It was silly of her to think so, after all, she wasn’t the only woman in New York who was missing her sweetheart, but this was new to her. To both of them. Beginning a romance with thousands of miles between them. Some days Jo regretted not saying anything sooner, wondering if they would have had time before he shipped out. But, then she thinks to herself that they did have time; years together growing up, and learning the ways of each other inside and out, and for that she would always be thankful.

A short cab ride later, and Jo was knocking on Jean Crosby’s front door. When the door swung open, Jean on the other side, the two women greeted each other as if they were old friends. A kinship that was shared in the dark times of war, but somehow found a ray of light to brighten their days.

“Jo! I was starting to think you got lost!” Her friend teased.

“No,” Jo grinned, red lips stretched into a smile. “I had to stop by the post and drop off Robbie’s letter.”

“Finally finished it, then?”

“I did. And just in time to reply to the one I got this morning.”

“Back to back?” Jean looked at her, eyebrow raised in what Jo could only describe as concern.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jean sighed, stopping mid way of pulling her white gloves on, to face Jo with a serious expression.

“Well…”

“You don’t think…”

“The only time I get back to back letters from Bing, is when something bad is happening over there.”

“Jean…”

“If it came from him, he’s fine, honey.” she reached out, hand coming down over Jo’s in reassurance.

“It’s in my purse,” Jo confessed. “I haven’t read it yet.”

“Do you want to go sit and read it before we leave?”

“I suppose I’d feel better if I knew for sure he was alright.”

Nodding, Jean pulled off her gloves, and dropped her purse back on the credenza by the door, before guiding Jo further into the house.

Once settled in the living room, Jean began to step away, to allow Jo the privacy that a letter from your man overseas deserved, when Jo’s hand shot out to stop her.

“Could you…?”

“Of course.” Jean smiled softly, settling into the sofa next to her, but with enough space not to read over her shoulder.

Jo carefully opened the envelope, fingers trembling as she slid the paper from its confines. Unfolding it, her eyes scanned over the paper quickly, before releasing a shuddering breath of relief.

“He’s alright,” her hand flew to her chest as the words escaped her. “He’s somewhere called the Flak House?”

“Never heard of that,” Jean looked confused. “What is it?”

My Dearest Jo,

Sweetheart, I can’t promise this letter will be as happy as my last one. What I can promise is that I’m alright, and spending the next week in the English countryside at a place called the Flak House. It’s a place used to help soldiers rest after rough missions. Jo, it’s been three rough ones, back to back, with what felt like no end in sight. I will spare you the details, because you shouldn’t have to read about all of the blood, and horrors, but I do sadly need to tell you that we lost Herbert Nash on the first mission. It happened so quickly, it didn’t register until I had my feet on the ground again. I broke the news to Helen, his Red Cross girl, and I pray that what I saw on her face, is something no one will ever have to see on yours.

One day, maybe, I will give you the details of our third mission, but for now, I know I should be counting my blessings. And enjoying this time, because sweetheart, this estate truly is something, but the kind of something I would want to be enjoying with you. Together, in the warm sun, reading our favorite books, or rowing on the lake. The boys are enjoying their week of R&R, but I can’t find it in me to relax. Though, I suppose you knew that already. Nobody knows me better than you, Jo, and it’s a time like this that I wish I had you near.

I couldn’t sleep, which is the reason for this letter, and I think a part of it is that I needed to make sure you knew I was alright. The other part of me, in some way, needed to get this all off my chest. I’m sorry for burdening you with these ugly truths. I’ll try not to do it often, and I hope that it doesn’t become a habit with every mission, that I’m left rattled to my core with fear. I can hear you telling me to take care of myself, and honey, I promise I’m trying. By the time this makes it to you back home, I will be long gone from my stay here, and back on base. I’m sorry for the short letter, darling. I promise the next one will be longer, and happier. Until then…

All of my love, always

Robbie

Jo finished reading, her stomach dropping as she turned to Jean, to confirm that the other woman had in fact, been right.

“Jo, what is it?”

“He couldn’t say much, spared most of the details, but he said it was rough up there.”

“Is he alright?”

“Robbie’s fine,” Jo confirmed. “But, Herbert Nash, is dead.”

“Oh that poor Red Cross girl!” She gasped, hand coming to cover her mouth in shock. “Didn’t they just meet?”

“They did,” Jo nodded. “I told Robbie I was rooting for the pair in the letter I just posted.”

“How could you have known?”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel sore over it.”

“I know you do,” Jean sympathized. The woman had enough sense to stand, and pull Jo up with her, knowing if she didn’t get them out of the house, her friend would likely spiral with worry. “Now come on, put that letter back in your purse, and let’s get out of the house for a bit.”

With a sigh, Jo nodded, and carefully put the letter back in the safety of her purse, before turning and following Jean towards the front door. For now, she could breathe easy, knowing that Rosie was safe. She knew that his mind was likely full of dark clouds, replaying events of the damage over and over, causing him grief and sadness; it brought with it a melancholy feeling that she wasn’t with him, and couldn’t be there for him to lean on. She knew he had his crew, and now, Harry Crosby, and she prayed that he had the sense to use that to his advantage.

Jo was grateful that she had Jean. Their afternoon out kept her mind off of the letter that was burning a hole in her purse, and the man who was an ocean away, suffering the loss of a friend. They had stopped by the Automat for lunch, before taking the train uptown for some window shopping, and at Jo’s insistence, a new hat for Jean. By the time she had gotten back home, her mother was already cleaning up dinner. Her father was in the living room, the radio on while he listened to the nightly news.

“Josephine, you missed dinner.” Her mother lamented at the sound of the front door closing behind her.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Jo sighed, entering the kitchen and sliding into one of the empty chairs. “We got a late start on our lunch.”

Turning from her spot at the sink, Mrs. Harris surveyed her daughter, before promptly shutting the water and moving to sit across from her.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Jean and I just had a busy day is all.”

“Josephine, don’t lie to me.” She spoke with the authority of a mother who meant business, and Jo couldn’t help the few tears that escaped from behind her eyes.

“Robbie’s letter,” she swiftly wiped away the first stray tear. “Oh mom, he lost one of his closest friends!”

Mrs. Harris let out a shuddering breath at Jo’s admission. The fear she had felt at the sight of her daughter's tears made her think the absolute worst for the young man who had become part of their family, and stolen her daughter’s heart.

“Who was it?” Mrs. Harris asked.

“Herbert Nash. He trained with Robbie in Texas, and he was killed on their first mission.”

“May his soul rest in peace.” Mrs. Harris made the sign of the cross.

“Robbie said it was so bad, three flights, back to back. He didn’t say much else, just that it was too much blood and horror to share.”

“Jesus, that poor boy.”

Jo fished the letter from her purse, sliding it across the table to her mother, giving a small nod for her to read it.

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“Just the once.” Jo smiled slightly.

“Well, alright then.”

Mrs. Harris pulled the paper from the envelope, and then the only sound in the room was the breathing of mother and daughter, and the muffled sound of the radio coming from the living room. The pair sat together until Jo’s mother folded the paper back up, and handed it back to her. The silence was growing thicker the longer they sat there, neither sure of what to say. When Jo’s father joined them in the kitchen, the two women seemed to snap out of their daze.

“What’s going on in here then?”

“She’s got another letter from Robert.”

“Didn’t you just get one? Is he alright?”

Jo nor her mother missed the recognition in Mr. Harris’ eyes. Having served in The Great War, he knew what could be in any one of the letters his daughter received, and he hoped for her sake, that none of them would make her cry the way she was now.

“He’s fine. Lost a man during his first mission, and was sent to an estate for rest.” Her mother filled him in for her.

“Jesus, already? Didn’t the boy just get over there?” Her father looked shocked.

“He said it was really bad, dad.” Jo spoke up, finding her voice again.

“Well, the best thing you can do is be there for him, even though you’re far away right now.” Her mother let her hand fall to cover hers, eyes filled with the understanding of a woman whose husband had been away once before.

“Your mother was what kept me going during the war,” Her father agreed. “I can promise you, Robert will take your words with him up there when he’s flying.”

“Go now,” her mother ushered her out of the kitchen. “Clean yourself up and write him back. You’ll sleep better tonight knowing you got your feelings out.”

She felt heavy as she stood from her chair, her legs like lead as she made her way upstairs to her bedroom, numbness encompassing her until she had the door shut securely behind her. The words blood and horror swirling around in her mind over and over, like the edges of a cyclone that showed no signs of slowing down. Is that what this was? A storm that would continue to speed up, with nothing to stop it, until the last bomb was dropped, the last round fired? She wasn’t sure, but she turned the ideas over and over, words sticking together in her head as she changed for bed, removed her makeup, until finally, she pulled out the chair at her desk to begin her reply to Rosie.

My Dearest Robbie,

Sweetheart, I don’t think there are enough words for me to express just how sorry I am for you after opening your last letter. To lose Nash so quickly, and in such a way. I hope that it didn’t pain you too deeply to break that news to his Red Cross sweetheart, and that she is able to find some happiness again soon. Do not apologize for the length of your last letter. Every letter from you is something I treasure, whether it’s three words, or three pages. I will always reply, so long as you’ll have me.

I’d like to hear more about the Estate you spent the week at, if you’re willing to talk about it. It does sound like the kind of place I would love to spend time with you, though, anywhere you are, is somewhere I want to be. Maybe we can escape somewhere lush and green once you return, and spend our days under the sun, with nothing but time on our hands. Until then, yes, you were right, I do wish you’d take care of yourself. I know you will, but that sometimes it takes a bit of pushing. Don’t try and shoulder the burden all alone, Robbie. You have people who will shoulder it with you; Pappy isn’t just your co-pilot in the sky. Try and remember that.

I’d like to try and make you smile, if only for a moment. I found our mothers gossiping at the kitchen table this afternoon as I headed out. They claim it’s not gossip if they’re talking about their children; I suspect they’re plotting as usual. Speaking of your mother, try and squeeze in an extra letter for her, if you can. She misses you, though she claims to be alright with you writing to me more than her, I know she’d appreciate an extra piece of mail and to know you’re doing well. Don’t give her too much grief for the gossip, you know she can’t help it.

I’m counting the days until you’re here again, Robbie, and we can carry on as we were meant to; together. Until that time comes, I’m sending you all of my love.

All of me, always

Read Part 4 Here

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

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aheathen-conceivably · 11 months

Text

It wasn’t the first time that Zelda waited in the parlor anxiously listening for Antoine’s footsteps; only this time she feared it may be her last. He was at Josephine’s apartment for the third time that week, seemingly concerning their joint ownership in the club. Part of Zelda hoped that they had reached some sort of agreement; but really, she feared that they were locked in a standstill where Antoine refused to sell or take any action before it was too late.

She had tried to give them space, but with every hour that he spent away and every question that was met with silence, she regretted leaving England. She was exhausted, past the point of disdain or even anger.

And the clock simply wouldn’t stock ticking, filling up every gaping ounce of silence that Antoine left between them and slowly driving her mad. Every day it grew harder not to throw it into the fire, to rip down the wallpaper or shred the curtains to pieces. She couldn’t take it anymore, and as the clock chimed at the top of the hour, Zelda made a promise to herself: if he wouldn’t get out of this place while they still could, she would leave for England with or without him.

Her thoughts were so caught up in the ongoing, never-ending ticking that she barely heard the sound of the door below. But as the footsteps grew closer, each one felt like a nail in the coffin, igniting her fear that his face would be just as angry, just as closed off, and she would have to go through with her promise.

Only when Antoine’s face appeared in the archway it was brighter than it had been since Black Thursday. At any other moment, his energy might have been exciting, infectious even; but as she looked at him, she simply met his smile with exhaustion in her eyes.

He immediately walked toward her, gently placing his hand on her face and softening his smile in apology, “Zelda, please forgive me for my secrecy this last week. In truth, I should have spoken to you days ago, but I couldn’t bear to offer you dashed hopes and empty hands yet again; so I wanted to ensure everything had been planned before I made any promises.”

Her eyes darted back and forth on his face, searching for some sort of sign that she was imagining his countenance or imbuing his words with too much meaning. He saw the softness return to them and sat beside her, taking her hands in his own, “But it is, my love. I’ve finally received the return telegraph from Gio, and I’m going to work there with him until we can purchase half of the farm. If you’ll come with me, if you agree…”

Then he slid onto the ground in front of her, propping himself up on one knee while never letting go of her hands. “We sold the club, Zelda, for barely anything really, but enough for this…”

He moved his hand away slowly, as if he was scared to let go even for a second, to reach into his pocket and pull out a small pearl ring hidden in a velvet box, “I have spent far too long choosing this place over you and making you fret over me. If you trust me enough to come with me, I promise you that I’ll be there with you no matter what life throws into our path. Zelda, my love, my songbird, will you marry me the moment that we step foot off that train?”

As she stared at him the ring hovered over her finger. There seemed to be an infinite amount of things to say, a lifetime’s worth of fear and hope to share. But at that moment, it was simple; all she needed was one short word: Yes.

The moment that she uttered it he slipped the ring onto her finger with shaking hands, before she threw herself onto the floor into his arms.