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[pastcastles-blog]

oldlondons.

        he almost wants to laugh at her - it’s rude and it’s uncalled for, but he wants her to understand just how ridiculous she sounds. the rule has always been bros before rosie : ashton coined the phrase himself, and the other three have sworn to live by that code and that alone. so, why, then, does she plague his every waking thought ? he can’t watch the quiet moments between she and john anymore. it makes him want to scream.     ❛  maybe, rosie. i don’t fucking know. i’m busy. you guys would be better off, trust me.  ❜    

               something is wrong- it doesn’t take a fool to tell, and rosie is far from being one. she folds her arms, clicking her tongue, “ you’re part of a band, the guys need you. sometimes it feels like you’re getting sick, or something. everyone sees you everywhere else but in the tavern for the band. ” she doesn’t understand his anger, but it makes her own defensive shell spike, and she frowns, though her voice is still light, a touch playful, even, “ ..what’s up with you ? you’re so moody. ”

[pastcastles-blog]

boyabsent.

it seems colin cannot decide between anger or pity on her behalf  ,  and so he settles with comfort  ,  as close to a happy medium as he can find  .     he has spent so many days angry  ,  and he does not hold it well  –  comfort  ,  though  ,  comfort he gives away like the leeches he prescribes  ,  desperate and uncertain and always a bit risky  .     ❛    he’s just being a kid  .     he’ll come around  ,  once he’s done with this  .     ❜

               she stares at him, grip on the tankard in her hand tightens momentarily. she doesn’t know what to say- ‘ he isn’t a kid, he’s two years under you, he was supposed to be the king, and now i am one solitary heiress. ’ she shakes her head, vigorously cleans as she speaks, wayward ginger curl slips itself from pins and hangs in her eye, “ who says he’ll be done ? he was never done with music, he was never done with church, he was never done with anything, so i don’t know, colin, if he’ll ever be done with this either. ”

[pastcastles-blog]

oldlondons.

           ❛    i’m  fine  ,  rosie  .    ❜    as  far  as  she’s  concerned  ,  he  has  to  be  fine  :  there’s  no  way  he  could  tell  her  what  ails  him  .  he’s  been  skipping  rehearsals  lately  ,  too  pained  to  see  john  living  his  aspirations  so  casually  .    ❛    dad’s  just  been  swamped  .  i’m  helping  him  out  at  the  shop  .   ❜    

               she pouts, pulling a pin from her hair as she talks, “ i miss you, tee. you're never around anymore, not even at rehearsal. john's great at keeping my temper, but i'm this close to cracking a bottle over ashton's head if he complains about you not being 'dedicated' to the music, god help him. ” to illustrate her point, she holds a hand and positions her pointer finger and thumb mere millimeters apart, before smiling at her friend, “ you’ll come back one day, right? ” 

[pastcastles-blog]

oldlondons.

         his  return  is  met  with  no  fanfare  -     here  ,  without  his  instruments  or  his  recognition  ,  the  illusion  of  wisdom  is  stripped  away  .  eyelids  heavy  ,  sleep  evades  him  -  there  is  too  much  to  be  done  .   ❛    rosie  .   ❜    he  smiles  when  he  sees  her  no  matter  the  circumstance  .  stack  of  papers  under  one  arm  ,  the  other  is  extended  for  her.   ❛    you  got  space  for  me  ,  my  love  ?  i  have  some  stuff  i  need  to  finish  for  colin  -  gotta  mail  it  to  the  magistrate  in  the  morning  .  i  can  sit  ,  right  ?  i’ll  be  quiet  ,  i  swear  .   ❜    

               she watches him, fox-like eyes run down his worn frame, never fully understanding, never fully retaining. she reaches back, brushes their fingertips together, “of course you can, tee. i’ll make you something to drink to keep you warm while you work. i don’t want you catching anything.” queen of the brewery, always wanting to serve and assist, even in these horrific, trying times, ones that thieve her loved ones and leave her streets and business barren. and yet, through it all, she smiles with hardy warmth, and leads him to the counter to sit, while she busies herself with moving to grab a bottle from a thrice scrubbed surface, poking at the dying embers of a fire, “...are you making time, tee?” she asks through her silence, voice almost distant as she works, “for yourself, i mean.”

[pastcastles-blog]

ky. hey sup so in ‘ring around my rosie’ rosies harmony dies on ‘come spend a lifetime--’ and that’s significant because she DIES and i’m drawing so i can’t get too into it but AGH

[pastcastles-blog]

KY. i wish you guys could hear my commenraty sometimes its so fuckgin funny and will never be as funny on text im always yelling at my playlist like “OH IM NOT IN THE FORM FOR YOU” but i never CHANGE it

[pastcastles-blog]

KY. im RIPE for a bitch about wwg i hate this entire musical and its gna kill me

[pastcastles-blog]

              @chrliework !!

                         “so wait, HOW LONG have you been working here? a girl can be curious, right?” rosie perches herself on the counter, legs crossed, teatowel still dangling from her hip. ginger head is cocked to the side, curious.

[pastcastles-blog]

            @oldlondons !!

                         it is late, late, late. the last standing tavern’s swell of people has lowered to a lazy trickle of drunken patrons that are shooed out of the door by ginger queen, and rosie donaghue cleans with a vigor as she waves the entertainment of the night farewell. she bides her time, humming a familiar tune through pursed lips, a tune played to her by a love wielding a guitar in the battle of heart. the sound of the door opening allows girl to turn, smiling.

                         “you’re very late in, mr. gallagher. you expect me to serve you past closing hours?”

[pastcastles-blog]

insanelycooljk.

             ❛ you’re boyfriends that freakin’ rock star ? holy shit, do you have any idea how grossly in love he is with your ass ? ❜

                         a laugh, rosie raises her brow, “must be quite a lot if it’s the first thing you mention. indulge me?”

[pastcastles-blog]

KY. like this for a starter!!!

[pastcastles-blog]

oldlondons.

               ENRAPTURED,  HE  TRULY  IS  A  STAR  IN  HER  orbit,  watching  with  awe  and  a  crooked  grin.  despite  the  jest  in  her  words,  he  falls  hook,  line  and  sinker,  even  joining  in  a  jovial  two  step,  carving  a  loose  circle  with  his  path  —  a  ring  around  his  rosie,  defined  by  sneaker’s  tread.    ❛    you  see  me  dance  every  night,  babe.  that’s  an  OLD  show.    ❜     free  arm  winds  around  her  waist,  bodies  brought  together  in  a  brief  moment  of  intoxicating  contact.    ❛     ‘m  not  too  raunchy  myself,  come  to  think  of  it, even  if  the  village  girls  say  different.   ❜    

                          bright laugh, rosie turns with him as he goes, raising brows, “ah, but you always know what to do, tee. the girls all love it.” as their bodies touch together, rosie brushes head against his, ginger curls ablaze as she shakes head side to side. “those village girls have a new thing to say about you every week, love. it’s ridiculous, they’re ALWAYS at it.” a click of boot heel against the street, rosie attempts a little routine of rhythm against the cobbled pavement, “you’d think they’d have something better to do than fill their heads with rumors about the city’s most famed rockstar, hmm?” another laugh, before she grins, “though i suppose you don’t mind it, everyone always talking about how amazing you are.”

[pastcastles-blog]

ky. hi im here and mad bc todd was ASLEEP when john told him not to be so dense like fuck off my boy like that john hes EXHAUSTED! 

[pastcastles-blog]

oldlondons.

            IN  ONE  PLACE,  HIS  HEART,  IN  ANOTHER,  HIS  MIND.   such  is  the  dilemma  for  everyman  :  each  aspect  of  his  is  split  between  responsibilities,  but  not  here.  NOW,  affections  sing  her,  and  thoughts  run  a  daring  path  through  tangled  weeds  of  unclear  future  —  she,  decked  in  white,  spinning  pretty  with  a  ring  on  her  hand  and  love  on  her  lips.  the  epitaph  of  the  forward  thinking,  of  the  too-hopeful  man.    ❛    shame.  what  does  that  mean  for  us,  rosie  ?  that  i  get  to  see  a  little  more  of  your  dancing  ?  i’ll  play  you  a  song,  babe  —    ❜    and  expression  ignites,  however  jokingly.    ❛     jaunty,  raunchy.   ❜    

                           tongue protrudes from her lips, and she nudges him with shoulder, still holding onto his arm, “you’re a dog.” she chuckles, touching her head against his for a moment, “i can do a jig, but not much more ‘n that, i’m afraid.” she clicks boot heel against the stone street with a chuckle, before she nudges him, “raunchy won’t get you anywhere, tee.” one hand lowers, lifts the skirt of her dress and she kicks out a leg experimentally, “i’m hardly a london performer, i can barely do all the bend-and-twist things they do.” skirt is brushed back down, and she grins at him, cheeky, “besides, I THINK you’d be a far better dancer than i would, dearest.”

[pastcastles-blog]

oldlondons.

              ❛    I  DON’T  KNOW,  RO  —  maybe  they’ve  got  the  right  idea.   ❜    impish  gaze  flickers  over  love’s  visage,  words  slipped  through  a  snicker.   ❛    i  think  i’d  like  to  see  that  song  and  dance  —  on  the  countertop,  if  you  PLEASE.   ❜    eyebrows  raise,  disappearing  ‘neath  overgrown  hairline  before  raucous  laugh  is  masked  behind  splayed  fingers,  as  not  to  frighten  any  lurking  plague-spreaders.   ❛    don’t  listen  to  ash.  he’s  just  sour  ‘cause  of  colin.  keep  your  eyes  and  mind  on  me,  my  love  !   ❜    

                        rosie snorts, lifting her chin in a haughty manner, “mind your tongue, mr. gallagher, or i’ll have half a mind to cut it off.” a joking smile, before she places her hands on her hips and does a twirl, “i’m not dancing on my countertop, s’already hard enough to clean with all the drink, let alone my dirty boots on it. i’ll dance on the floor or not at all.” a small laugh, before she steps closer, tucks a freckled hand into the crook of his elbow, “i try my best to, but he does try my patience. we just don’t get along, him and i...” a pause, brow furrows, “the rascals must’ve caught wind that we’re around, they’re hiding.”

[pastcastles-blog]

oldlondons.

           strings  pulled,  feet  splayed,  todd  laughs  in  surprise,  head  shaking  vehemently.  no matter his  jesting,  moonstruck  heart  singing  the  same  steady  two-beat  tune  :  rosie,  rosie,  rosie.  it’s  been  this  way  since  before  he  could  remember.   ❛    why  are  you  being  so  MEAN  today  ?   ❜    carpenter’s  son  is  no  prince,  but  the  smile  he  gives  was  constructed  in  a  monarch’s  dream,  bright  and  breathtaking.

                         “i’m mean EVERY day.” she teases, senses sharp as a tack as she turns corner, aqua surveys darkened alley for sight of cats, then turns away to continue the stroll, “s’what happens in the environmen’ you’re surrounded by. i’m surrounded by drunk ol’ men singing their songs and askin’ me to do a song n’ dance on my own countertop.” spiteful roll of the eyes, before rosie softens, smile turns warmer toward beautiful boy with a grin that could rival the sun, “you’re the only thing keepin’ me sweet, tee. ashton s’force feedin’ me bloody lemons. grumpy old sod.”

[pastcastles-blog]

          @spectershape !!

                         KNOCKING on locked castle door, rosie finds sleepy lilt of clinking glasses disturbed ‘pon the sound, apron is already discarded over the counter, ginger locks half-fallen from pins that dig into her skull, the click of the lock is quiet, door opens an inch, rosie’s voice begins on a harsh note, “we’re CLOSED--” but pause comes quickly, features are recognised and door opens further, “john? are you alright?” she steps aside, a silent invitation for him to come in, “...why are you calling so late?”