#romeo and juliet au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

canarydarity · 5 months

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(Thought a little bit too hard about Romeo and Juliet ranchers...)

Keeping his head low and his tread light, Tango ducks from tree to tree under the cover of dark from the canopy, protecting him from the spotlight of the moon and therefore his discovery. Behind his back, leftover laughter from Skizz and Etho drifts further away; the volume of Skizz’s last protests, however, remains annoyingly the same as it continues to plague his mind, as does the memory of Etho’s agreement that Tango was—for lack of a better word—fucked.

Louder than all of that, though, more insistent, more pressing, was the ghost of Jimmy’s lips against his. The sole force of it drove him on, his heart tripping in anticipation when around the trunk of a tree he’d glimpse the stone of the house of Solidarity, or through a break in the leaves he’d catch a glimpse of light from a brazier.

Voices draw near just as the treeline breaks at last, and Tango ducks behind the nearest trunk as two servants meander by, following a worn path toward the back of the manor; his courage returns to him as they fade, and as if pulled by some rope falling taught or some string being coiled, Tango draws as close as he dares to the base of the stone without giving up the shade of the last tree. He kneels.

Now that he’s here, he must admit, his mind draws blank of any possible plan for continuing on. It’s not like he can wander the house of Solidarity unattended, making it clear in every way that he did not belong, and, on top of that, with one of Verona’s most recognizably unwanted faces.

Idiot, Skizz had called him; blinded, his friend had laughed. Always the most cautious of them, Etho had recalled that even a masquerade hadn’t been enough to conceal his presence from Grian.

And Tango hadn’t really until now heard a word.

Movement in the far window, the unmistakable shifting of the curtains, drawn by an imaginary force—the manmade wind of someone passing through. After a moment, a more permanent form takes shape, and Tango finds himself wondering how he could have stayed still for so long, how the sun could possibly have risen while he had been unaware.

But it of course is not the sun. He blinks and darkness is restored around him as his eyes adjust to the sight.

Jimmy, framed in beiges and creams and white—the masonry, the curtains, his blouse—fair as any portrait, as any bolt of silk, as any fine jewel. The slightly damp flop of his hair, the color like spun gold; the curve of his shoulder, the tan glow of skin shimmering beneath the cotton—he’s breathtaking, breath-robbing, even at such distance away, and Tango wobbles enough in his stance that he places a hand on the ground for stability.

How clear it is that this is a setting in which he doesn’t belong; how envious must be the moon for how dull it shines in comparison. Its colors—silver, the cool tones it usually accompanies—they were despicable in their wrongness. Tango thinks he’d be suited more enveloped by heat; in open fields of flowers, stranded in miles of wild wheat and tall grass, in places without trees, without shade, without reprieve.

The masquerade, Tango thinks, was not to foster intrigue amongst the guests, but to shield them from such raw beauty, to protect them from its temptation.

Jimmy’s chest bellows with what Tango imagines a sigh, and he continues on, momentarily disappearing from Tango’s view only to appear again in the following window, and then the one after. Tango follows, and they walk together along the length of the manor, albeit separated by its walls.

Bound, tethered, Tango’s heart tugs him along.

A corner is turned, and instead of a further row of windows through which to watch, Tango finds a balcony jutting out of the stonework, grand and open to the air. He swallows as Jimmy steps out onto it; stares, enraptured, as Jimmy wanders over to the railing, balances his elbows on top of it, and then drops his head into his hands.

Through the stillness of the moment comes an unmistakable and truly inspired groan, and Tango startles and glances around expecting to be caught by a rather resentful servant before realization alerts him to its source.

Jimmy drops his hands and sighs again, and this time Tango can hear the puff of his breath as he exhales.

“Stupid,” he mutters, “so incredibly stupid. Why did I…” He shakes his head and decides better than finishing the thought, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as if he can will the arrival of more to a complete halt with just enough concentration.

Tango is familiar with this method, and, he’s gotta say, it is not as successful as he’d like it to be.

Jimmy’s lips move again, but too little sound comes out for any of it to be heard, and Tango finds himself wandering closer before he can arrive at any of the reasons why he absolutely should not—too distracted by the thought of those lips touching his mere hours before.

Just as he’s braving closer ground, Jimmy’s voice rises to exclaim “Tango!” and Tango’s foot finds false purchase over a well-placed root and he slips, catching himself on the cool dewy grass. His head raises slowly, ready to be forever expelled from the grounds—or more likely stuffed and made to decorate Grian’s quarters—but Jimmy’s gaze remains safely away, off into the distance beyond. “Why did it have to be Tango?”

Tango does not dare move.

Jimmy grabs the balcony railing with both hands and leans back, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. When he opens them, he draws himself back in and lets his arms go slack. His brow furrows in thought, his nose forming a little scrunch by the action, like his tutor’s just posed him a particularly troubling set. “But…it’s not Tango that’s the problem, is it? It’s just his name…Tek.”

Should he be listening to this? Tango doesn’t bother thinking about it, he already knows the answer; not that that stops him, or compels him to turn around and proceed the way he came—for how could he when he’s hearing the echo of his own musings? An utterance of reciprocation for the feelings to which he’s fallen victim? Shared dismay at the grandeur of their circumstance?

“Maybe…maybe if he weren’t Tango.”

Even before Jimmy drops his head in defeat, Tango knows that line of thinking is for naught. Maybe if he wasn’t Jimmy, maybe if his cousin wasn’t Grian, maybe if his name wasn’t Solidarity and his very existence meant to be an offense. Maybe if the sun didn’t shine, or the moon didn’t beam, or resentment didn’t flow through the streets like blood spilled. Maybe did not stand the test of time nor outlast the memory of a grudge.

“Perhaps, should I not call him Tango, but assign him some other name…”

If only Skizz was there to witness Tango blurt out, “You can call me anything you’d like.” Idiotic and blind would not have been the only adjectives he was assigned if he had. A few immediately come to Tango’s mind himself—stupid, insane, absolutely and completely screwed.

He has no memory of deciding to speak, but the words have undeniably come out of his mouth, and there’s no hope of them not having been heard based on the way Jimmy rises to attention.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Alert and understandably perhaps a little frightened, Jimmy's eyes scan the treeline in which Tango dwells.

Intelligently, Tango replies, “uhh.”

“Who are you?”

Tango flounders, his voice raising a dozen octaves, becoming high and stringent as he at once wheezes out, “God, why has that question become so complicated all of a sudden?”

Jimmy shuffles to the corner of the balcony, his waist pressed against the perpendicular juncture of stone as he leans over the railing to squint into the orchard. “Wait—Tango?”

Tango is left with no other option than to abandon his haven of trees and shade and step into the torch light of the Solidarity’s garden, lest he’d rather Jimmy lean so far over the balcony that he falls. He catches the moment that Jimmy sees him—the softening of his features, fear being overtaken by the more welcome feeling of surprise, the nervous tightening of his jaw, the biting of his lip.

If he thought revealing his presence would mean less of Jimmy’s precarious balancing act, then he thought wrong; Jimmy doubles over more, if possible, and Tango throws his hands out in a gesture he hopes is universally interpreted as stay put while some sort of alarmed squeaking comes out of his mouth. But Jimmy just fervently whispers, “What are you doing here? Are you crazy?!”

“Are you?!” Tango whisper-shouts back. “You’re giving me a heart attack here, lean back wouldya?”

Jimmy thankfully returns his upper body to a standing position safely behind the balcony’s edge, but his voice gets no less intense, his words no less urgent. “They will kill you if they see you here, you know that right?”

In return, Tango can only nod as if this realization has only just, for him, come to light. Of course, it hasn’t—Skizz and Etho had been trying to tell him since they left him outside the Solidarity’s walls, and by instinct alone he knew to hide if he suspected someone walking too close by, and yet. His frantic nodding does not cease as he says, “You know, I hadn’t really thought about it…to be quite honest.”

“You hadn’t thought about it?!” Jimmy grabs at his hair, incredulous, and Tango is momentarily distracted for the amount of time it takes to imagine doing it himself and wonder at what it would feel like. “I can’t believe this.”

Shaking his head, desperately trying to restore function, Tango delivers the only defense with which he’s come equipped. “I just—I had to see you!”

Once more, Tango curses the moon for its inadequacy, for what must be its deliberate hindrance to the wonder of this scene. Because, though it’s too dark to really tell, firelight falling much to short, Tango swears that Jimmy begins to blush.

Since he can’t completely be sure, he’ll have to make due with admiring this: the way Jimmy tucks his head down, closer to his shoulder, the shifting of his weight from one foot to another; how his eyes seemingly impossibly get a fraction of an inch bigger, wider.

He doesn’t quite look back at Tango when he says, “You really mean that?”

Tango smiles, “I do, I swear it.”

Whatever modesty was held in his expression before disperses and Jimmys face holds room for little more than mirth when he turns back and demands, “On what?”

“On…” Tango draws his shoulders higher, his hands raising with them as if attached by puppeteers string. They suspend there momentarily, waiting to be released by the arrival of a coherent thought that unfortunately never comes. “I don’t know…”

Tango bites the inside of his cheek. “What would you want me to swear on? Name it and it’s done.” He holds his hands up in pure complacency, a promise and an offer; take me, im yours.

Jimmy laughs at his near madness, and Tango swears that it moves like wind through the orchard, rippling across all the branches and leaves of all the trees; he sways on his feet to the music of it, doesn’t bother to curb the urge to smile harder at it—his face a perfect mosaic of every feeling he’s every felt.

With a shake of his head, Jimmy admits, “I dont know either.”

“Ah, an impasse.”

Though his head doesn’t move, Jimmy’s eyes duck away again, seeking safer purchase as he instills the night sky with his reply. Tango doesn’t mind, for it’s easier then for him to continue to to watch. “Maybe just…say it again then. Instead.”

“I came because I had to see you, Jimmy.”

Jimmy’s eyes dart back and then away again, needing to see Tango to truly be sure, but needing privacy to be able to comprehend. “Alright…” He glances back into the room behind him, whatever is beyond the curtains that are all Tango can see. “They’ll come looking for me soon, you really should go.”

Playfully outraged, Tango sputters, “What! That’s it, I don’t get anything in return?”

The dramatics earn Tango an eye roll, but Jimmy also begins bouncing a little in place—resevoired anxiety that lets Tango know he was serious about the chance that someone would soon seek him out. Whatever stolen time they had managed to accrue was fleeting and not a second more.

Even so, Jimmy plays along. “And what am I supposed to give?”

“I don’t know, something!”

“You’re very helpful, has anyone ever told you that?”

Tango laughs, “A fair hit.” He watches as Jimmy turns around again to assure their privacy once more, understands for both of their sakes the importance of not overstaying his welcome, and his hands tucked behind his back, comes up with, “alright, just tell me this: are you glad I came?”

Jimmy turns back to him, and this time Tango is absolutely certain of the blush present on his cheeks by the way Jimmy raises a hand as if to feel his own temperature on instinct, or to hopelessly pat it away with the back of his hand. He’s smiling, but it’s clear he’s trying not to, and that’s all the answer Tango needs.

Before Jimmy can, in his bashfulness, form a verbal reply, from inside a voice does indeed call “Jimmy?”

Bliss turns to panic in an instant, and instead of earliers soft tone Jimmy near hisses when he says “Tango!”

If he was smart, he would heed the warning and go, but Tango is still drunk on their proximity alone, on the events of the night—all of which were set in motion by the taking of a chance on an innocently shared kiss. He figures if this is where one chance has gotten him, then he can stand to risk another.

“I mean, I’m perfectly content to wait, Jimmy.” Tango steps to the nearest tree and leans against it like he’s planning to stay for some time, tries not to laugh as Jimmy’s eyes practically bug out of his head.

“You—” Jimmy’s head swivels back and forth, caught between the harmlessness in the tease and the actual realistic harm in its consequences if Tango legitimately followed through. Of course, he isn’t going to—the second Tango sees another silhouette in the window he’s out of there, blending back the way he’d come into the trees—but where was the fun in it if there wasn’t just a little bit of real life pressure? “You’re insane,” Jimmy berates, but before he turns and disappears behind his walls that are meant to keep out Tango and Tango specifically, he whispers, “Yes, I’m glad you came.”

Jimmy’s already gone, but when Tango says, “That’s all I needed,” its more to himself than anything as he turns to go back the way he’d come.

He did not imagine when the night began that he’d find himself betraying the one rule his family had ever demanded he follow, nor did he expect to feel little concern for himself in spite of this fact, but he did know he’d be helpless but to do it again had the situation started anew, because Tango doesn’t know what greater purpose he could have than to love this man. It wasn’t just the remembrance of a kiss that drove Tango to Jimmy’s window, but the sense that it was only the first, and where there was one would come more. Of this, Tango was certain: attending the masquerade, glimpsing Jimmy through the party-goers, risking following him through the crowd and delighting in that first, perfect kiss had set off more than the events of tonight, one singular night, but rather of whatever was in store for him—for them—all the rest of their lives.

(gonna put "can translate Shakespearean English into gamer speak" on my resume under special skills. [read on ao3 here])

#worm writes #so this is what i was doing. in that blissful period where i hadnt yet learned jimmy died btw.#this is where thinking jimmy is alive and well gets me #and now its just incrdibly funny that instead of mourning i was straihgt up like giggling to myself like haha rancher balcony scene !!!#like...oh my god #team rancher #team rancher fic #solidaritygaming #jimmy solidarity #tango tek #double life fic #romeo and juliet au #edit:#realized I should probably also tag this —>#trafficshipping #just in case

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peeterparkr · 2 months

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thus, with a kiss, i die| tom holland| 1.

chapter 1: strangers.

romeo & juliet modern au.

summary: the well known story of star-crossed lovers. Your local bar has two spots for bands, but only one spot for an opportunity to get a record deal. Your band, the Capulets and his band, the Montagues have been rivals long enough. But what happens after a night when you get to know their lead singer?

chapter summary: two strangers who have no expectations.

pairing: singer!tom holland x guitarrist!reder

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention

word count: 3.8k

this is literally romeo and juliet, it's one of my favorite stories, if you've read my other works you KNOW I love to quote it, and reference and eveyrhting. Anyway, this is my take on it. Modern world, hope you like it. I haven't written anything in ages so here goes.

character glossary prologue next chapter masterlist

wanna be tagged?

so, first chapter is finally here! I highly thank everyone who's been supportive of this :) i'm really happy to be writing again and to see people actually reading is making me go insane. Well, I hope you like it, I highly encourage to read the prologue to understand a bit more of the capulets and the montagues. This chapter is heavily focused on Tom and y/n separately. Again, this is my take on Romeo and Juliet, it's literally based on it with my modern twist but yes :) hope you like it, send feedback. Also, I have a playlist on apple music, I'm going to get it on spotify as well so I'll share that later.

The night seemed either too old or the light too young. Blurry, and messy seemed the evening before, a couple of drinks, two songs too many, and a gathering crowd that was too delighted. For his own good.

Tom couldn’t recall what had been said, or done. Last thing he knew was he’d shown up, his bleeding heart puffing out of his chest as he continued to stab it under the spotlight. Making a show out of his broken heart.

Only Ben had asked if he could do it.

“Yeah, yeah, I can do it with a broken heart,” he had pleaded. But could he?

“Enjoy the spotlight,” had been the advice he had received from Monty. And although he wasn’t referring to the light, Tom later understood it meant the several attempts that were made to flirt with him.

He had given in, eventually. What else can you do with a broken heart?

And as he woke up early from a cold bed, slightly too crowded, with a hand up on his chest he growled, leaving an empty trail behind him and a headache that would last.

He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t have to. The poor girl had probably just been a victim of his attempt to forget a broken heart.

He’d left his motorbike at the bar so he had to clumsily and shamefully walk back to Verona. Thankfully he was now alone with his melancholic thoughts, an endless path full of misery and tears that were waiting to trace a map back to his pain. An unfurnished heart and his sudden questioning of what love was and if he’d truly felt it was going to keep him busy all day. If it hurt this much then he guessed he had felt it. But had he?

He felt like he’d walked for hours. He wondered why it wasn’t raining yet he felt like it was pouring down on him.

He’d heard much about love. How wonderful, a very splendid thing. Butterflies and unusual symphonies. He’d heard about love. But he didn’t know much about it.

He’d heard little about love.

Falling in and and falling out. He’d heard about hate, too. And how it was the absence of love. He disagreed much with it. For what he was feeling right now wasn’t hate. He felt empty.

Falling out of love hadn’t made him turn towards hatred. Falling out of love was like losing air, like the sun wasn’t coming out, life didn’t continue and the whole world was meant to stop. And the worst part of it was it didn’t. The sun came out, the birds were chirping and no one saw or cared he hurt. How dare the world continue when it had stopped for him?

Maybe it was hate. Though, he didn’t know much about hate either.

He’d searched for more love the night before or whatever was similar to it, perhaps that’s why he’d searched for some other lips for him.

“Tom,” someone had interrupted his current inner monologue. His mind wandering had been brought back to reality all of sudden. Tom turned around to find Ben.

Tom only raised his eyebrows as he walked to his helmet. “Ben.”

“You’re here early.” Ben commented.

“It’s not early.” But it probably was.

“It’s barely 9,” Ben declared as he stared at his watch. Ben worked the early shift at Verona, cleaning tables and getting ready for the day, so it was early.

Tom groaned , “fuck.” Barely 9 and he had already died 7 times.

He looked back at Verona that kindly had a sign which read ‘NO MONTAGUES ALLOWED TONIGHT.’

“What?” Ben questioned. “A few days ago you were in pain because you were falling in love.”

“Out of love,” Tom corrected. “What happened last night?” He asked.

Ben amused, chuckled. “Oh, darling,” he mocked his accent.. “You don’t remember?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I know, I meant before,” he pointed at the sign. “Where the fuck am I supposed to drown this sorrow in alcohol instead?”

“Ah,” Ben pressed his lips in a thin, thin line. “Well, the Capulets—“

“Piss off, I’m tired of that,” Tom rolled his eyes. “I have enough problems trying to understand why Rosie dumped me.”

“And why did she?”

“Beats me,” Tom said. “She said I was too romantic. What the fuck does that mean? She said she didn’t want anything serious and that she wanted to have fun. Am I not fun?”

Ben watched his friend with pity. “You know what?” He sighed, “I’ll take the day off, I’ll cheer you up.”

Tom didn’t want that.

But it didn’t matter. Not far from them Billie was cheering herself up, knowing that the night would be grand. It held the promise of the sun finally coming out for them.

Billie had been waiting for a chance like this, and she knew her new friend Paris would help out.

Paris, Billie thought his name to be ridiculous. For him only, ironically. Though it worked, she guessed. Cap had always thought they were meant for something greater than this.

She often wondered what it could’ve been.

She knew what they had set each other up, Capulets and Montagues. But she had her reasons. And her falling with Monty was something she often ignored and blamed him for. Monty was definitely at fault. He’d been the one to play with fire, he’d been the one to absolutely ruin everything. Which was a story for another time. Cap didn’t like to think about it so the reason will be kept secret. Let’s not get ahead.

However Cap did like to think about how she’d ruined it herself. She had a marvelous time.

People often called Cap a no brain woman. She took pride in that, although she didn’t agree. Although her last night with their initial band with Monty, “Shaken Spears”, was ine ti remember, she’d destroyed the whole place and humiliated him.

It was fun.

But now they were struggling because often bands are followed by popularity and Tom had given them just that.

However she knew she was technically cheating.

“So tonight’s your big night,” said Paris. Paris was more than just a bartender. His father owned Verona. And although Skylar owned the place she didn’t actually own it, and it was always Paris’ last call.

So it did help that Paris had an infatuation with y/n, Cap’s younger sister, an incredible guitarist and a poet in her free time. Author of their best songs.

Or not really a poet, but someone who loved to poetize her sorrow. Same shit.

“Yes, it is,” Cap smiled, “I’m glad we can prove we are better than the Montageeses.”

Paris chuckled. “You are,” he agreed. “But they’ve got something.”

“Yes, I know that British brainless brute,” she hissed.

Paris nodded. “And he’s single now.”

“Single now? Fuck,” Cap sighed. She thought Monty had probably something to do with it. Making the stupid hunk available would make them more appealing.

“Yeah, and he already went home with someone,” Paris continued.

Shit. This was even worse.

“But I’m sure y/n will bring a lot of attention as well,” he cleared his throat. “I mean she’s incredibly talented.”

“She is.”

“Hope I get to—talk to her tonight.”

Although Cap was thrilled they’d be able to get more Saturday nights she wasn’t as fond for it to be at her sister’s expense. Although she knew she didn’t dislike Paris.

Paris was a tall, handsome young guy. He had the brightest, bluest eyes. Y/N was fond of kind eyes. He was kinda cute, she guessed.

“Yeah,” Cap said. “I’m glad you want to befriend her.”

Paris blushed. “I may—I may want more than befriending her.”

Cap coughed, “you know, I’m not the one to make that decision for her. And if you want her to fall in love with you that’s your problem. You have to… woo her."

And she knew y/n to be sort of new to matters of love. Y/N was naive and stupid when it came to it. Her heart was an empty room ready to be filled. An open window letting the warm air in. Walls waiting to be painted. Her closet was full of dresses that were thrilled to be worn. Y/N barely knew anything about it. She’d heard a lot about it, and spoke of it like a grand connoisseur. Words of someone who could imagine what it felt like. Romanticizing her lack of knowledge of love.

“I know,” Paris said, “hopefully tonight I’ll get to talk to her, it’s the perfect setup.” He grinned to himself. “Besides, your idea to make it a theme night—“

“Shit!” Cap interrupted. “I haven’t given out these!” She took out a bunch of pink, blue and purple sheets, covered in constellations, stars, moons and suns which read:

✨We are made of stardust✨ The Capulets invite you to celebrate the arrival of a new angel in their team. Heaven, skies, signs and stars mask themed party. Greek goddesses, and mythic galaxies welcomed. Costumes are encouraged. (Plus, you won’t have to pay cover if you’re dressed up ) Saturday 8 o’clock NO MONTAGUES ALLOWED.

Paris watched her. “I can get someone to hand them out.”

And so he did, and before they knew it, a young boy was handing out the printed pamphlets. Nearby, some Montagues were sitting by. Getting a well deserved break.

“You know the best cure for an old love is a new one,” Ben assured Tom, watching as the younger teenager who would earn a few bucks struggled to hand out the pamphlets.

“I’d rather cut my own leg,” Tom rolled his eyes. “You know I just feel trapped it’s like this fucking emptiness is just spreading—Hello?” He turned to the kid who’d just interrupted them by approaching them.

“Hi. Good heavens.”

Ben and Tom shared a glance.

“Can we help you?” Tom questioned.

“Are you Montagues?” The kid questioned.

“Who asks?” Tom raised his eyebrow, trying to get a glimpse of the pamphlet.

“Ah, then you are,” the kid sighed and tried to keep his way.

“No, we aren’t,” Tom grinned and then shot a death glare at Ben who frowned. “We aren’t, what’s that?”

“The Capulets.” He handed it over so Tom could finally take a look.

Tom smirked, “ah, their gig.”

“You knew about it?” The kid asked. “You need the pamphlet thing to get in.”

Tom glanced up. “If you didn’t want me to be a Montague I could only guess.”

Ben glanced at Tom. “We can’t go.”

“Sure we can!” Tom smirked.

“I was told to encourage guys like you,” the kid admitted. He looked between them. “Apparently there will be a lot of pretty girls.”

“See? Didn’t you want me to get a new love?” Tom mocked his friend. “C’mon, let’s call Maverick, I’m sure he’ll be down.”

“Didn’t you want to cut your leg?”

And someone else wanted to cut their own leg. Not too far from them, in an old apartment, full of vinyls, lipsticks, old bookds, half-written songs and stars, y/n was getting ready with her best friend, Nina, and Clara, Cap’s girlfriend.

Nina was excellent at makeup and hair, even though she was just your usual case of a gril who dreamed with having her salon. Although, to be fair she mostly wanted it because she said it was the perfect place for other people’s gossip.

“Can’t believe you’re finally joining the Capulets,” Nina commented as she was placing small stars and sparkles around y/n’s eyes. “Seems like only yesterday when you started playing guitar, and writing songs about books you read. ”

“Why the hell are you being so emotional?” Laughed Clara, watching them, “you sound like a mom.”

Y/N had always stayed far from the spotlight, she didn't like it. She didn't think she needed it for that matter. For her, she was just a wallflower, nothing too exceptional. No one really paid any attention to her so she didn't bother trying to get it.

“I am proud of my baby, that’s all, finally showing the world her talent!" Nina smirked, “you know she’s been begging Cap to join them since they were the Shaken Spears? And I was so sad when they split up.”

“Why?” Clara frowned.

“She had a crush on Monty,” explained y/n, and then nodded in agreement at Clara’s disgusted grin. “Uh-huh.”

“We all have questionable crushes,” Nina defended herself.

“Not me.” Y/N chuckled. But she'd never really liked anyone. Not that anyone fancied her.

Nina motioned a vomiting face. “Except y/n it seems, because she’s perfect,” she mocked, bringing her hands close to her heart. “She’s never dated someone who’s trouble.”

“And I never will,” y/n laughed.

“You’ve never had a boyfriend or girlfriend, have you?” Clara questioned. “At least I haven’t met anyone.”

“Nope, not one!” Nina said. “Hopefully, someone will catch her eye and she can bring them home.”

“I haven’t had the honor, or misfortune,” y/n answered Clara.. “However I don’t think bringing someone home implies a boyfriend.”

“You know Paris likes you right?” Nina smirked. , blushing.

“I am aware,” y/n admitted. She knew partly his infatuation had given them the Saturday night gig. She smiled, for the first time she wasn't invisible as usual.

Clara laughed, “Oh, and do you like him?”

“He’s easy on the eye,” y/n rolled her eyes, her cheeks were flustered. “But in all honesty, I don’t want to… I’m not looking for anything, you know, Nina here is the love of my life so I don’t need anyone else.”

Nina grinned. “I am her soulmate, that’s true.”

“Besides, I’m more worried about music, and music is my one true other love, I can’t focus on anything else.”

And she really didn’t want to focus on anything else. Perhaps, it may have been because she’d never yearned for love. She’d never suffered a broken heart, and she’d never felt that spark.

That was a lie.

She could only imagine it. But she didn’t know how it felt. She had always wondered how it would feel, if there truly were butterflies and a tickle in your skin. She wondered if love sounded like a gentle guitar weeping. She wondered if the world actually stopped, all of sudden only with a smile. She wondered if time really stopped ticking when it was felt. Did it taste as sweet as honey? Did it taste bitter? What did love smell like? Was it soft? Was it rough?

Y/N always questioned why love had always hidden from her. She wondered how long love would take, because it seemed late enough. She’d been asleep for too long.

She always wanted to love, without thinking, that never ending, the kind of love that is brainless, that makes you foolish. Y/N wanted to laugh, to cry and to feel.

She knew her heart was special enough. Did no one want it?

And she knew Paris liked her, but she knew he wasn’t love. And she wanted to have it, she didn’t want to imagine it anymore. She wanted to be proven wrong, or proven right.

To feel naked and yet warmed with the sun. Y/N always thought love would feel like a sunset. To love so passionately. To feel like you might die if you’re not around. She wanted to give her heart, to wake up with the stars wrapping you around in a haze.

She could only wish. But right now, she was no one. And she knew she'd stay like that.

Or would she?

Later, when the shadows can no longer be seen as the moon is your only companion, Maverick, Ben and Tom waited outside Verona. A lavender smoke surrounded the air and it held a promise for luck. The gig was about to start, and it was a full house.

Stardust was the correct theme for the night. People dressed in bright, nightly gowns, girls with stars around their eyes. Moons, stars, angels, devil and gods. Greek goddesses, euphoric galaxies.

The three of them, dressed to the nines, with masks around their eyes, giving imagination a go. Maverick, one of Tom’s oldest friends, stood right beside him. A sturdy man, tall, and handsome. Blue eyed knight, some liked to call him. He’d dressed as a galaxy, a starry, blue, litmus shirt, and a black mask to accentuate the oceans in his eyes.

Ben, on the other side, only wore a white blanket around, a greek god had been his inspiration. A golden mask posed on his nose.

And then, Tom, who had decided to go for something completely different. He’d worn a black, satin buttoned up just halfway the chest. A black mask, with golden feathers on the corners, to combine with the golden, covered in dark ashed pair of wings on his back.

He’d learned from Maverick that Rosie would be there, so eventually he had to show off. Icarus, he’d gone as Icarus.

They’d blended in with another group, and were astounded by the transformation of the place. Stars and suns hanging from the city, glitter and stars on the floor. Pink, lavender and blue lights, as if stardust had really covered the place.

A fortune teller on one corner, with a bright neon sign behind her. Wings, feathers, and fabrics.

“Jesus,” Maverick said. “If they keep going like this, you guys are going to actually strip on stage next time to stay relevant.”

Tom only glanced around. “This feels like a dream.”

Maverick scrunched his nose at his comment and Ben only chuckled as he arrived with the drinks. Unfortunately they hadn’t recognized them so he could get a bucket of beer.

“Just drink, buddy,” Maverick handed a beer.

There was something in the air, Tom could feel it. “I’m serious,” he said

“Oh yes, yes, the old dream fairy visited you and gave you a glimpse of your future.”

“Fuck off.”

Before he continued, they were interrupted. “Well, hello, hello! What a lovely scene!” Billie said into her mic, her stand was covered with flowers. Everyone turned to the stage, a projection of stars fell on her face. She had a glass in her hand. “I’m so fucking happy everyone could make it, and y’all look so hot.”

A few laughs, cheers, whistles and clapping. Tom watched her, she was dressed with a dark blue dress, covered in small, silver moons combining with her silver mask, with stars coming out of it, surrounding her head.

“I’m so glad everyone stayed on theme, but I do see someone dressed as a ghost, not sure if it’s the right vibe, but you do you buddy,” she smirked. “Anyway, I’m so happy that you joined us tonight. So, some of you may already know us, you know the gist, we will play fun tunes for you, while y’all enjoy a drink, and you can sing and dance along. Are y’all with a drink already?”

A loud cheer.

“Amazing, I have a drink here myself, so cheers,” she took a sip. “I’ll be joined by my beautiful comrades over here.”

Louder cheer, claps and a room full of noise. Tom had never been to one of their gigs, and the vibe was different from theirs. Cap was better at crowd work than he was. Monty usually talked and turned on the audience, promising Tom would take off his clothes. He never did.

Seemed, however, the Capulet’s fanbase was more intense and devoted, rather than thirsting for them. Although he could see some people in the crowd were certainly not complaining about Cap.

“Alright, I’m so I see a few new faces over here, I’m glad to see you so I’ll introduce these beautiful ladies,” she smirked. “And tonight’s the first night one of them is joining so make sure y’all clap and have this loud ass cheer, okay? We want her to feel welcome, so I want you to fucking scream and lose your minds for her, okay? or else I’ll beat your asses.” Laughs.

“So first, let’s welcome the love of my life, Clara, who’s on the bass,” Clara walked in to say hello. Cheers, claps.

Maverick, Ben and Tom all stared at each other. They’d never seen this kind of crowd.

The girls kept walking in, as the cheers got louder each time. “Amazing, then we have our sexy Georgia on the drums, our lovely cute Sam on the keyboard. We have this hot badass on the guitar, bass, and fuckin’ ell everything that we need her on, please welcome Theodora.”

Tom bit his lip, expectant. Why were they leaving the last one for the end?

The place was moving.

“But we know why you all are here, tonight all of this is for our newest member. Who isn’t exactly new. She’s been behind the scenes this whole time, she’s written some of your favorites like… Milky Twilight,” Billie smirked. “Flowers for two… Table for one… Yeah, yeah I know, and so many more, like our fan favorite Star shaped heart.”

Ben and Tom were panicking. They had efinitely heard those songs. One of them was even recorded already, and they had heard a rumour that it would be on the radio. Star shaped heart was the Capulet’s song. They’d always believed that Cap had written them so to hear the actual mastermind behind those, was terrifying for them.

“and I’m so fucking happy she finally is on stage,” Billie said. “Please, welcome my younger sister, the talented, beautiful and brilliant y/n!”

And Tom felt like he had been hit by a car. The girl had walked into the stage to the warmest, loudest crowd. The entire room had gone absolutely crazy.

Yet, Tom felt the most calm, as he laid eyes on her. The whole world had stopped. Like an angel had flown over. A golden, long gown, folded, falling down all the way. As if sun rays were coming out of her, she was the purest light, brighter than the sun, prettier than any of the skies above. Like she was floating above them all, flying. She was the sun.

Tom held in his breath as he watched her. It was a dream, it had to be, what else could it be instead? Maybe a wish, of one of those you wish upon a star.

“Okay, okay, so you guys all know us,” Cap said. “I’m Billie, but y’all can call me Cap. We’re The Capulets!”

And they started to play. And Tom’s eyes could only be on her, her. And her name was roaming in his mind, the sweetest melody. A diamond. With a guitar covered in star stickers

The played a few songs and Tom finally tried to approach the stage as soon as Billie announced they’d get a break. He had actively avoided and ignored Ben’s and Mavericks comments. They continued to drink.

Tom was in awe,and he couldn’t even hide it.

Someone had noticed it.

Theodora approached Billie. “We seem to have a stowaway,” she warned Cap, motioning to the stupid kid.

Cap turned and saw him, lost and confused, watching them with veneration.

“I’ll beat the shit out of him if you need me to,” Theodora said.

“Is that Tom?” Cap questioned, she’d never seen him here before, and honestly, she was too happy to care. “Ah, don’t bother, he is no trouble.”

“But--”

“We can’t have trouble, Theo,” she warned. “If we cause any mess Skylar will kick us out, alright?”

Theo wasn’t pleased with that answer. They both were left too busy to see Tom had finally approached the sunlight herself. Who was currently by the bar, attempting to get a drink.

And so Icarus made his way to the sun.

He only knew he wanted something, one kiss. That’s all he needed. But he couldn’t start with that. But there she was, alone with what seemed all the spotlights and yet no one approached her. How could they not?

He followed after her, as she was making her way out the backdoor. He guessed she thought no one was following her.

“Hey," his voice was soft.

The girl turned around, slightly startled, and it had been as if she’d been hit by the same bus as him. “Oh, hi.”

wanna be tagged?

i'm tagging some friends and some who asked, if you want to be added to the taglist tell me if you want to be removed, no worries tell me as well! :)

tags: @lnmp89 @blondygwendy @dangerousluv1 @love-granger @kikiwritesfanfics @astoldbydanid @erodasghosts @peterdarlingg @hollandweather @annathesillyfriend @mannien @sukunababe @adoredire @whosyourgnomie4

character glossary

prologue

next chapter

masterlist

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland au #twakid #romeo and juliet #romeo and juliet au #peter parker x reader

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cattocavo · 1 year

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CARRY ON COUNTDOWN DAY 2: Alternative universe!

I did a Romeo and Juliette au bc i could. And im very happy that i did.

This drawing feels very special to me for several reasons:

1: im proud of it.

2: this took me 17 hours of working nonstop for basically three days

3: it has filled me with incredible joy to have created this, therefore it must be special

I dont post on here a lot but i feel like a special drawing deserves an excpetion.. also most of the carry on fandom is here and not my main social media which is instagram soo..

Yeet i guess. Ive kind of run out of words after the incredible wordvommit i spilled on ig. It literally told me that my caption was too long😅

@carryon-countdown

OH! Almost forgot. This is the painting its heavily inspired from:

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where-is-vivian · 4 months

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JEGULUS romeo & juliet AU :)

#marauders #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #marauders era #the marauders #dead gay wizards #sunseeker #starchaser #fanart #james potter fanart #regulus black fanart #marauders fanart #jegulus fanart #romeo and juliet 1996 #romeo and juliet au

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cowgremlin11 · 7 months

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@calvin-freckle-mcmurry i saw u ;) woe more romeo and juliet stuff be upon ye all

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #viktor vasko #mordecai heller #vikdecai #lackadaisy fanart #fanart #my art #art #romeo and juliet au #romeo and juliet #rocky rickaby #elsa arbogast

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godsmenusuperbowl · 4 months

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Romeo's Sun ~ *Lee Minho*

Summary: You were the sun and he was your moon. It was a star-crossed love affair. However, your families are determined to pull the two of you apart, no matter how much you love each other...

Pairing: Lee Minho X Fem!Reader

Genre: Angstyish Oneshot

Word Count: 2346

Warning: mentions death, star-crossed lovers, triggering topics, s*icide ideation, hurt no comfort, slight character death

Masterlist

Taglist: @plutonieve @mxnsxngie @maeleelee @kpop-will-kill-me

A/N: I absolutely love this story, you have no idea.

To him, she was the sun.

As cliché as it sounded, Minho had never met someone who was as vibrant and as lovely like the sun as her. There was never a dull moment between the two of them and she was never without a smile. To him, she was everything and more, and he was determined to stop at nothing to be with her forever.

It was the rumors that made his blood boil; the itching, prickly, unceasing thorns in his side. Ever since he was a child, Minho has heard about her family and what filthy, good-for-nothing lowlifes they were. Despite their considerable rank in society, they were always looked down on others with scorn and contempt. He just couldn’t understand. How could someone as vivacious and dazzling as Y/n be from such a terrible family? Despite all of the nasty rumors, she never let them dampen her sparkle, which she wore proudly for everyone to see. Nevertheless, no one bothered to give her so much as a glance.

Which is why Minho was so confused when he saw her in the royal ballroom on his twenty-fifth birthday. He knew his parents would never invite her family to such an important party, so why was she here? It was because of this question, he knew he had to speak with her immediately.

“Your Highness.” She dipped a polite curtsy as he approached, a small smile still on her lips.

He gave her a bow, a bit less formal. Offering out his hand, he said, “May I please have this dance? I’d like to speak with you.”

It perplexed him even more when she accepted so readily. Most women would play coy, and tease or flirt. But not her. She agreed as if it was her right to dance with him, though many would disagree with that sentiment.

Before he could even open his mouth, she spoke, “I know what you came to talk to me about. You’re right, I shouldn’t be here. You’re also correct in the fact that my parents, well really my father, is a no-good, rotten, scoundrel. A forged invitation, that’s how I got in here. The outfit is a stolen dress and some questionable costume jewelry, as my parents are bankrupt and one coup away from being run off their land. Is that all you were wondering about or do you have more you’d like to discuss?”

At first, he couldn’t find the words, not after she so candidly answered the questions he didn't get the chance to ask. His jaw flapped open and closed several times, which wasn't very princely of him. Nevertheless, he managed to choke out, “Why did you tell me all of that?”

Her smile only brightened. “I do so hate rumors, don’t you? I thought I might as well clear the air, since you seemed so adamant to speak to me.”

“I see.”

“So, do you still wish to speak with me? Or have I lost my mysterious charm?” It was remarkable how quickly her sincere smile shifted into a cheeky grin.

It took a brief pause before he nodded. “Yes, I would like to talk to you. Not only has your story captivated me, but you appear to be an excellent dancer as well.”

Her laugh mixed with the music of the ballroom in perfect harmony, making his smile grow. “Why thank you. You’re quite light on your feet yourself.” After a particularly robust turn that settled back into gentle swaying, she added, “But I suppose you say that to all the ladies to charm them, yes?”

His smile turned fond, before he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “No, only you.”

Not only was he pleasantly surprised, but slightly cocky in the fact he could make her blush so prettily as he did.

Minho didn’t think she would leave such a lasting impression on him. Yet, he was already desperate to see her the very next day.

From there, their relationship blossomed. Before either of them realized it, they had slipped into a courtship. However, neither of them seemed to mind. If anything, they were happy with how easily they got along.

Until one fateful day…

“And what was so urgent you needed to meet with me right away?” She asked, her angelic smile glowing despite the setting sun.

He rolled his eyes, his hands covering her eyes. “It’s a surprise! Just be a little patient please.”

She chuckled. “Well, judging by the tone of your voice, I think it might be a good surprise. So, I won’t have to murder the crown prince.”

“I’m not sure if I should be relieved or offended.” He chuckled.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait and see if the surprise is worth it or not.” She mused, her smile still cheerful.

“Alright.” He finally stopped. “I’m going to remove my hands, but keep your eyes closed!”

As he gently lowered his hands, her eyes remained shut. He took a step back before taking a deep breath. It was a vain attempt to try and calm his nerves.

“Okay, open them.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped, a hand rising to her mouth. Before her, she could see the sun sinking behind the mountains, a beautiful waterfall tumbling from their rocky cliffs and feeding into the river before her. She marveled at the fireflies that danced between the willow branches overhead that also dipped down to brush between the wildflowers at her feet. It was truly a magical sight to behold.

“Oh, Minho. It’s like a patch of heaven on Earth.” She breathed, her voice delicate with emotion.

“Perhaps you should turn around then.”

“How could I do-” Her words caught in her throat.

He was so thankful his proposal turned out the way he planned it. The perfect setting for the perfect person. It took months to plan all of this out, but for his sunshine, all of his work was worth it to see her expression shining down on him, just like the sun she was.

“Y/n, you make me the happiest man in the world. Title or not, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else in the entire world. Will you do me the honor of marrying me, so that I may make you happy for the rest of your life?”

“Oh, Minho, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” Tears flooded her eyes like diamonds before she too knelt down to kiss him. And they stayed there all night, together in blissful harmony.

But the sun cannot always shine so brightly forever. Dark clouds of trouble were brewing a storm neither of them were prepared for.

On the day he was to announce the day of their engagement, Minho's parents forbade the union and refused their son access to the outside world, so that he may see her again. Nevertheless, he resisted. He snuck out as often as he could and wrote letters even more often. He hated being away from his sunshine like this and he made sure to tell her so.

“I’ll come for you.” He vowed to her one night by the willow tree where he proposed. “As soon as I am King, I will come for you and we shall be married that very day.”

“Oh Minho.” She breathed, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears as she embraced him tightly. “I love you so very much, moonlight.”

“And I love you so very much, sunshine.”

As the days continued to drag on, the more and more anxious he got. He knew he couldn’t keep her waiting forever. Even though she swore loyalty to him, he knew her parents or his for that matter would do something drastic to split them apart for good. He was terrified of the plans that he did not know about. He couldn’t let anything happen to them, no matter what.

But fate had other plans.

There was a visitor in his study.

Never in his life did he expect to see the sun so dull and lifeless like he saw that day. And yet there she was, staring out the window, a blank expression on her face.

“Y/n.” His voice was no more than a gasp. “Sunshine, you’re here! How, why-”

“Your Highness.” Her voice was emotionless and precise. She only called him his title once, when they first met. She was never this formal with him, ever. “I have to give you something.”

“What-”

The ring hit the table, echoing in his mind forever, his heart shattering along with it like glass. It just couldn’t be the truth. She couldn’t mean it. It wasn’t possible.

“Sunshine, I-I don’t understand.” He breathed, barely moving as she stood.

“I’m afraid I can’t marry you. I’m so sorry, Your Highness, but it’s better this way.”

“NO!” For the first time ever, he raised his voice at her, making her flinch slightly at his tone. “No! It’s not better this way! Y/n, we can fix this, please! I know we can! Please don’t give up on us. I don't want to give up on you. I don’t want this to be the end, please. Sunshine.”

She sighed, looking away. “Goodbye, Minho.”

As she was almost to the door, he whirled around to speak to her once more. “Just tell me one thing before you go. Through this whole thing, from the first moment we saw each other to the day I put that ring on your finger, did you love me? Even just a little bit? For even the briefest of seconds, did you ever love me?”

He could just barely hear her gasp before she shook her head. “No. I never loved you.”

And with that, she was gone. His sun had disappeared behind dark storm clouds. He fell to the ground and sobbed for a very long time.

It was well past midnight when the anger hit him. No, he knew for a fact that she loved him. All of that time they spent together, there was no way she could fake it for that long. Either his or her parents put her up to this and he was not going to stand for it. He made up his mind to go find her and get married just like they planned before all of this happened.

And no one was going to stop him this time.

He raced to her house as fast as he could. He didn’t care about the valet who was trying to stop him. He needed to find her as soon as possible and then they would be gone without a trace.

However, he found something else entirely. Her father and someone who looked to be a royal guard were drinking in his study. They both appeared to already be drunk.

“…Apparently the wedding is canceled, which doesn’t do me any good.” Her father grumbled.

“And why is that?” The guard asked. “With the Prince out of the picture, her reputation is ruined and she’ll be penniless, alone, and miserable forever, just like you wanted.”

“Well I had concocted a new plan.” He growled, “When that nosy little Prince got engaged to her, I planned to reveal her true identity at the reception. You know she’s nothing but a bastard child.”

“No! Really?”

“Yes. Some whore from a brothel in some nameless town is her real mother. I didn’t intend to keep her but I assumed she’d be useful sooner or later.”

The guard nodded. “Very wise of you.”

Her father gave a smug smile. “It is, isn’t it? After that, I assumed the King and Queen would disown their son due to the scandal and the shame he’d bring. Of course, it’s no skin off my nose if the two of them killed themselves afterwards from the ostracization they’d receive, which I had planned out as well. With no heirs, the kingdom goes to the next in line, and I’ll be damned if that isn’t me. I’ll see to it that every adversary coming after my throne is quickly eliminated.”

Minho gasped. Her father truly was the heartless monster in all of the rumors he heard about her family. To him, it didn’t matter that his sunshine wasn’t a legitimate child. He still loved her with all of his heart and soul, no matter what. But to see that her father planned to kill both of them was truly despicable. He really had no time to waste, causing him to dash down the hall, missing the last bit of their conversation.

“Right now, she’s in her room asleep. I had her chloroformed since she wouldn’t stop crying about her precious moon or whatever it was. I plan on dumping her in an abbey or a river tomorrow.”

Her bedroom door swung open, yet she didn’t stir. He was too late. The deed was done.

He choked on his sobs as he stumbled to her bed. He couldn’t believe it. She was dead. Really dead. His sun snuffed out for all eternity, leaving nothing but tears in his eyes that sparkled just like her eyes in the sun. He couldn’t believe it, but after what he overheard from her father, he wouldn’t put it past him.

What could he do now? Where does he go from here? Why didn’t he come find her sooner?

Minho couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. A cold numbness overtook him and silent, overwhelming sadness made him tremble. Now what could he do?

There, next to his hand, the answer sat. A bottle with a dark, forbidding elixir called out to him. It would be so easy. Quick uncork the bottle, down the whole thing, and then the sun would return. It would be too easy.

Taking it in his hand, he whispered a promise into the cold night air:

“I would much rather die in hatred than live without your love. I wish we could become flowers when we meet again. I will not become the fool who was sacrificed by destiny again. Even if destiny separates us.”

The cap came off.

A gasp.

“Wait.”

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aintinacage · 7 months

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Sabezra | Romeo & Juliet

Trick or Treat -> @belong2human-kind

#trick or treat #Halloween #Sabezra #Sabine wren #ezra bridger #natasha liu bordizzo #eman esfandi #Star Wars rebels #swr #swr au #Star Wars #Star Wars au #star wars moodboard #Sabezra au #Sabezra moodboard #romeo and juliet #Romeo and Juliet au

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fellowskydalorianbrainrotter · 3 months

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a Romeo + Juliet dinluke au, a forbidden romance in the midst of the Jedi/Mandalorian war - I will go further into explanation but please keep in mind I didn't get far into planning so this is all over the place

- the au loosely followed along with the story of R+J (1996) where Din is convinced by Boba to attend a masquerade ball hosted by the queen of Naboo (Padmé), to have fun and let loose. Mandalorians are banned from visiting Naboo. Din comes across this man who is absolutely captivating despite being masked and before he could spot himself, he asks the man for a dance. They become lost in each other as if the world around them no longer existed and dance as if they've known each other their whole lives

Din and Luke escape the party to a secluded part of the beautiful palace gardens and have deep conversations about everything and anything. They both realize they're quickly falling in love. Luke admits that he's truly the prince of Naboo and Din is suddenly conflicted because he's the prince of Mandalore, the next heir to the throne, but he decides that none of that matters to him anymore. He never desired to rule in the first place. Both of his parents are still alive and are the current king and queen of Mandalore.

I didn't have much planned, but basically they began to meet in secret. Din and Luke first began to meet and travel through public transport to the lower slums of Coruscant until they became more bold to meet each other and their respective planets.

Fast forward to where Anakin (who is also still a Jedi) finds out about their secret romance and forbids Luke from leaving the palace. Din's father tries to force Din to do the same, but c'mon he's Din Djarin, he'll always find a way out. This leads to an intense argument on both sides, but Anakin is firm and stubborn whilst Din's father realizes that his son actually loves Luke and nothing will come between them. The two of them come to realize that this war is doing nothing but costing lives and depleting resources. Din's father realizes that Din was the new beginning that Mandalore needed.

The only way the throne could be taken so quickly was through battle for the Darksaber. Now here is where I was conflicted if the battle needed to end in surrender or death. I hadn't decided then so I skipped MUCH further where Din (now the king of Mandalore) sought out to end this foolish war. He marries Luke in secret, a small group of friends and family (Leia, Han, Boba, etc.) there to support and witness the marriage. That begins the first step in ending the war since Luke became the consort of Mandlore's king, surpassing his status of a prince. Din lifts the ban of any Jedi (or associates of them) from visiting Mandalore.

I wasn't sure how to proceed from there, but happy ending — the war ends, families heal, and love prospers

- I wanted to write this au, but I don't think I'd ever get around to it so I wanted to post the concepts and inspo from pinterest; I take no credit in any of these

outdoor scenery —

Naboo

Mandalore

#dinluke #skydalorian #romeo and juliet #romeo and juliet au

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justgleekout · 1 year

Photo

Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. - Romeo and Juliet

inspiration

#glee #klaine #Kurt hummel #blaine anderson #glee fanart #klaine fanart #romeo and juliet au #I was in the sappiest mood today #so please enjoy this r&j inspired artwork #god these colours took me HOURS #Its no perfect but I do enjoy it #I was literally about to post it an hour ago but decided it needed so much more contrast so this is how it ended up #hope y'all like this one!!! <333 #my art

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allergictocolor · 2 months

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I've finally made a graphic for my Romeo & Juliet AU. Click here to see the whole thing/first chapter.

Click here for the final chapter:

Act V: Misadventur’d piteous overthrows

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bewitchedhearts · 21 days

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I made a moodboard for the romeo and juliet coded au, the fic will be called undeterred lovers and be a short multichapter fic

#eremika fic #romeo and juliet au #sort of arranged marriage au

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peeterparkr · 3 months

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thus, with a kiss, i die| tom holland

PROLOGUE: the rivalry.

romeo & juliet modern au.

chapter summary: who are the great rivals at the Verona bar?

pairing: singer!tom holland x guitarrist!reder

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention

word count: 3k

character glossary next chapter masterlist

wanna be tagged?

This is an unequivocally known story, a tale as old as time, of those of two star crossed lovers, who most likely lost their mind. Star-crossed lovers, they call them as if the stars were undeniably conspiring against them. Are the stars really against secret, illicit-feeling escapades of a young, naive love, so powerful and strong that it ends up in death?

Or were they too busy to help them out when everything went insane?

Shakespeare said it himself, didn’t he? ‘Violent delights have violent ends’. Perhaps the name and the reference itself doomed upon a foretold tragedy. Yet, here we are.

And it all comes back to a simple rivalry, and thus shall start like it always does. In a small bar named ‘Verona’, always playing live music, near a college. Nothing too unusual, nothing so fancy. With a small stage. Smoking blue and purple. With a wall full of old bottles, just to adorn. A small stage with a few vintage lights hanging from the ceiling, a worn out rug, and a neon light sign which read: ‘Don’t waste your love’.

Where people gathered to have a beer, or two in those small wooden tables, or perhaps in the green couch, nibbling on a few snacks while they listen to one of the two bands Verona offered.

Some liked the Capulets, an all female band. Some liked the Montagues, perhaps for the handsome lead singer. Some liked both. Some liked neither.

But Verona was the rivalry. The rivalry between the two bands was what made Verona an interesting place, or that’s what some people liked to pry upon, the well known story about two former friends, Monty and Billie ‘Cap’ who once fought almost to death and decided to each go their separate ways and declare themselves sworn enemies.

Things hadn’t been quite the same since. Each formed their own band in an act of revelry and had tried to crush the other. The Capulets were known for their soul-crushing lyrics, meanwhile the Montagues were known for their remarkably outstanding sounds. As said before, their lead singer was quite someone that moved crowds. Pleasing to the eye.

The Capulets had recently lost their main guitarist and a rumor of who would join had circulated. Monty was anxious to learn all about the new member. A war shall begin.

In all honesty, nobody really cared about them, but both were on the edge waiting for each other's next movement.

And in the end, they were young and naive with big wishes and hopes, with the same stupid dream that one day someone would walk in the night their gig was on and offer them the entire world.

It was funny, how they believed so much in Verona, just a small bar, that happened to have a few legends come from. A few people said great names like Billy Joel had once played there. Drunk folks are very unreliable narrators. But not quite the most unreliable.

Which brings us to two members of the Capulets, Georgia and Sam. The drummer and pianist, respectively. The first, a short haired, with a diverse set of earrings, a top tank and loose pants. A cigarette hung from the corner of her lips. The two of them were having a drink, knowing they would have to listen to the Montagues later, they needed some alcohol in their body to make sure they could stand the occasion.

Some of Montague’s crew had already arrived and were tuning in. They watched, amused. It was a fair Friday afternoon, and people were gathering already to have a beer and some chips.

“You know, we got the Saturday gig? ” Samantha said as she plaid with a half-full cold beer glass. Her style was more 70’s, big hair, big pants and striped shirt. “If we keep going like this we’re going to crush them.”

“I think we should actually crush them,” said Georgia, puffing her cigarette. “Get a whole ass piano and just dump it on them, cartoon style, y’know? Especially Tom. Gosh, I’d like to just get rid of his stupid British face. I might dislike him more than Monty.”

Sam shrugged. “That was a great move, you’ve got to admit that.”

“Aye, great move? Getting a pretty face just to get more audience, please,” Georgia rolled her eyes. “This should be about talent!”

Although she knew that half the girls there were just there to see Tom. Georgia only judged them slightly. Tom was most definitely the newest sweetheart. Curls, chocolate kind eyes, and Georgia supposed he was fit. Besides, a hopeless romantic, or so the girls would say only because he had an accent. Perhaps they all believed he was the next Hugh Grant.

“Perhaps Cap should bring in someone as beautiful, y’know? As bait.”

Georgia rolled her eyes once again. Although it didn’t sound as stupid. And perhaps that’s why Cap had decided to bring in someone as beautiful. Although the new member, Georgia knew, was naive and had a lot to learn, she could perhaps appeal more. And besides their looks, their talent to write, Georgia knew it was most likely to appeal to Paris, the young handsome bartender, the bar’s owner's protege, who could pitch in to have them more often.

But they were losing right now and they both knew it. How they’d manage to convince Princess Skylar to get them the next day was beyond them. Skylar was the bar owner, or at least she presented herself as so. Even though she was just a manager she basically owned the place. She gave out the slots as long as people were buying drinks. And lately the Montagues were bringing in more money.

Montgomery, ‘Monty’ had brought in Tom to be his new lead singer, and they’d been booking the Saturday gigs more often since. Perhaps bringing in a wider female demographic to Verona, buying pretty cocktails. Although, Georgia thought it could be now constructive for them since the male demographic had decreased and they tend to be the ones to drink more beer. Besides, one thing they could rely on was Tom having a girlfriend, so at least the girls would eventually have to give up and go back to the heart wrenching lyrics.

“Is it me or do they sound worse each day?” Wondered Sam as she heard a hard tune. Bea, her enemy, the Montague’s pianist was a fan of only key smashing. “Whenever I listen to them I just need to run to the bathroom and puke.”

“No, I think you should just puke on them,” Georgia said. “I’d be your number one fan.”

Abby, the Montague’s drummer, and Georgia’s number one enemy had overheard. Georgia said her technique lacked enthusiasm. While Abby said Georgia lacked any technique.

Both were wrong.

“Whatcha say?” Abby questioned. “Did y’all come here to learn?”

“Learn?” Sam stood up with her beer. “Learn how not to play, am I right Georgia?”

Sam wasn’t good with comebacks. Georgia pulled her back down.

Abby chuckled. “If you play like that then I won’t worry anymore.”

“Ah,” grinned Georgia raising her own drink, vodka soda. “So you are worried. Gotcha.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you’re invited here.”

Ben, another member of the Montagues and the reason they had a new lead singer was nearby plugging in his instrument. Not as handsome as the others, people would say, but he was peaceful. “Let them be, Abby. They can be here.”

He often tried to ignore them, he was there for the music and the music only. He thanked Monty for giving him the chance to be there and disregarded the stupid rivalry. He was the bassist, and had become quite popular now that he was acquainted with Tom.

He didn’t like any trouble… unlike Theodora, another member of the Capulets who was with them at the bar but had been quiet enough. It was hilarious how they often were angered by the other’s presence and yet neither tried any other place to hang out.

Theodora searched for the trouble. Perhaps Theodora was the one to hate the most of the Montagues. All of them and especially their newest member. She was the scariest of the Capulets, impulsive and with probably some anger issues. She despised them, and wasn’t afraid to show it.

“Eh, for sure we can be here. It’s a bloody bar. But you could try and kick us out. Don’t be such a pussy, Ben Dover,” Theodora’s first statement was one to make heads turn.

Ben turned to look at her from his bass. “I’d rather not get tired, unlike you I care more about my music.”

“Why does it sound like a bunch of people farting then?” Asked Sam. Again, she wasn’t good at this.

But before he could even respond, Bea, the pianist had already begun the… fight, if you could call it one. Apparently the fart statement had been the one to bother her, funnily enough.

She’d stormed over, yelling and screaming nonsense. Raising her hands and giving them fingers.

Very classy.

Georgia and Sam had stood up to walk over to the stage. Bea had continued a rampage of all the cuss words she could think of and calling them out on their lack of talent and accusing them of coming here only to plagiarize their songs, to which Theodora kindly answered they couldn’t plagiarize a ‘pile of pure shit’ unless they went to the bathroom. Sam had continued with the fart insults.

Ben only stood there watching them and trying and failing to calm them down.

Soon, the other poor customers at the bar were involved in the fight, trying to incentivize the company. Some others were drunk enough to fight with them and others just enjoyed the show.

Billie, ‘Cap’, who had acquired the nickname from quite a young age, by making everyone call her ‘O’ cap’n my cap’n’ after making The Dead Poets Society her entire personality, had walked in along with her girlfriend, Clara. Cap was usually chill. A great leader, a great singer and a great friend. Unless, of course, you betray her. She’d been betrayed by Monty, whom she’d now nicknamed Slap-Dick.

“Christ.” Cap muttered as soon as she saw the scene. Part of her band only raised glasses, fingers and lame insults and she was sure she’d just seen a beer can fly by. “Angel,” she turned sweetly to Clara. “Will you please hold this?” As she handed over her purse.

“What for?” Clara questioned.

“Yes, I might need to throw some hands— oh, how interesting, see who just walked in, the scum himself, Slap-Dick,” she greeted.

Monty, one hand on his girlfriend’s, Maddie, waist, and one hand holding his guitar walked in. Cap scrunched her nose with disgust.

“The fuck are you doin’ here Cap’n Crunch,” Monty snapped. “It’s our gig tonight, please get your vulgar and uncivilized twats out.”

“I’m pretty sure your darling band if we can dare to call it that, was the one to start this,” Cap crossed her arms. Cap knew her own crew was not good at insulting. Although as she eyed Theodora she thought she may have been wrong in her initial statement. Still, she continued. “Your zoo is making all of this noise.”

“Oh! Fuckin—.” Monty laughed but thankfully was interrupted before he could say anything that would make the show even better.

“Stop!” Skylar had yelled, breaking a bottle against the wall as all the lights were turned off and the faint ambiance music stopped playing. She liked drama. “For fuck’s sake, stop!”

Everyone felt the air cold, paused in the middle of the argument. The lights were turned back on, completely, leaving nothing to the imagination. It was chaos, as if a hurricane had hit the entire bar. Theodora was holding Ben by his shirt, Bea was standing on a chair, Sam and Abby just stood in front of each other. The other drunken clients just stood there awkwardly. Standing ever so slightly less elegant.

“I’m so fucking done with this,” Skylar said. “Stop you assholes, this is the third time this month.” She made her way through the tables and snapped her fingers down twice at Bea, motioning for her to get down. “I don’t care about your stupid feud,” she continued as she snatched Theo’s hand off Ben. “ It's so stupid, you’re both terrible bands,” she said as she walked in between Sam and Abby, separating them as both fueled with rage. “If this doesn’t stop,” she said, taking Georgia’s drink now and taking a sip for her. “And I’m talking to you both now,” she turned to watch Cap and Monty. “I’m going to cut you off, deadass. Not one more gig for either. Do you understand?”

Both tried to complain.

“I said, do you understand?” Skylar was firm.

“Yes, princess,” Monty hissed the nickname. Montgomery Williams was exactly the guy you’d think of when you thought of a guy who formed a band and played the lead guitar. His dark hair fell to his eyebrows and his cheeks were sucked in enough for him to be considered handsome. He was often seen with a pair of dark jeans and a new band t-shirt. A cigarette was his trademark accessory. Bulked enough but, not really. And he was often accompanied by his newest pursuit, this time, Maddie, a girl whose clothes were probably bought too tight on purpose.

“Now, Capulets, please give me the pleasure of your kicking you out,” Skylar said

Montgomery smirked.

“No, no, Monty, don’t get your hopes up. They don’t play until tomorrow, so from now on whenever the other band is playing the rivals cannot step in here, otherwise I’ll fuck you up,” Skylar threatened.

“I wanted a beer,” Cap complained earning a deathly glare from Skylar. “Fine, princess!” She took a deep breath. “Caps, let’s go get wasted at my place!” She ordered and her mates followed after.

Skylar had her arms crossed at the entrance as they walked out and the members of the Montagues clapped. She rolled her eyes.

“‘Lright everyone, if anyone causes another disturbance I’ll—“

“Fuck us up,” Monty finished. He clapped his hands and pushed Skylar from her shoulders back to the bar. “Absolutely, no worries, Sky, we’re very civilized and we will give you the best show tonight. We’re classy!”

“Don’t touch me again,” was the last threat she gave before heading back to her office.

Monty gave her a fake smile and then turned to Ben. “The fuck happened?”

Ben made his way back to the stage as he was followed by the rest of the band. “Honestly, Georgia and Sam were just here chilling. Abby overheard them and wanted to snap at them, I tried to calm them down but Theodora, you know Theodora.”

“Insane bitch, yeah.”

“Theodora just snapped and then it’s a blur,” Ben explained.

“Fuckin’—“ Monty pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mkay, well. We can’t let them, you know, get on our nerves, that what they want, they want to get rid of us, no matter what, they don’t even care if they go down with us,” Monty said. “So, uh—yeah, especially now that Tom joined us they’re desperate.”

His band mates only nodded with agreement.

“And— where the hell is he?” Monty frowned, noticing just now that his lead singer was nowhere to be seen. “We play soon, that idiot,” he rubbed his face with stress. Although he loved to pride himself on being better than Cap, he was often found with insecurities because deep down he believed he wasn’t.

Monty was especially scared now that he knew Cap was going to present her secret weapon the very next day. Why they were given a Friday instead of a Saturday was scary for him. Who had they brought in?

Perhaps, the Tom furor was finally gone after a few weeks, considering that although more women were parading in Verona, they would soon be gone as soon as they found out Tom was not available and not willing to flirt with them. Even when Monty had encouraged it, the guy would just politely decline it.

And now, they had the Saturday gig. The most important gig, and although Friday was next in line, he knew that important people showed up on Saturdays. Not Fridays.

Though he didn’t blame it entirely on Tom’s reluctance to flirt. He knew Cap had pulled her cards right. And he knew it had something to do with Skylar. Had anyone slept with her? Or had they given her money? Had their songs penetrated Skylar’s walls?

Either way. They had to have their lead singer show up. He couldn’t hide his anxiety as he approached the microphones, tapping slightly on them to try them.

Ben coughed, watching him.

“Ben?” Monty’s eyes widened. “Where is he?”

“Look, I haven’t heard of him since the morning,” Ben explained.

Monty furrowed his eyebrows.

“He did text me he would be here, but.”

“But what?”

“Him and Rosie broke up so he might not be feeling well, he told me he was devastated. He told me he was getting a drink before.”

Monty heard the news. His lead singer had broken up and was devastated on a Friday night gig. Where they had to sing silly love songs and hard beats. Songs that would be ruined if not sung with the right emotion. Songs that could potentially be ruined if sung drunkenly.

But…

“Are you telling me that…” Monty approached the mic, tapping it to make sure everyone heard him. “Did I hear that right Ben?”

“Monty.” Ben shut his eyes closed.

“Did you just tell me our handsome, British, sweetheart, muscly lead singer is single now?” He questioned with a smirk knowing he’d gotten the attention.

“Monty.”

“Did you just tell me that?” Monty pushed. “Is Tom single?”

Ben shook his head annoyed. “Yes, Monty.”

Monty smirked as he turned to the crowd. “Ladies… and no, actually, just the ladies, you just heard it! Our lead singer is recently single so I will need all of you to give him a warm welcome when he’s here, he’s going to need a lot of love. Will you guys help me with it?”

And for now, he knew, he was back again at the race.

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