#jane seymour's got mum jokes

[owlpuddle]

Favorite tiny moments in shows:

Something Rotten: "I believe it's pronounced misérables" (A Musical). All the chorus parts in I Hate Shakespeare. "Don't be so literal!" (Right Hand Man).

Six: "as my jam comes on the lute (two lute notes)" and "okay ladies let's get in Reformation" (Get Down). The grabby hands choreography of All You Wanna Do. "You could perhaps call us the Tudor Van Trapps. -- I'm just kidding, we're called the Royaling Stones 😊" (Six)

Beetlejuice: "I do this bullshit like eight times a week" (The Whole Being Dead Thing). "Except for the white part, obviously" (Fright of Their Lives). "Crystals speak to me." "What are they saying?" "Buy more crystals" (No Reason). The way the dancers suddenly materialize in That Beautiful Sound.

Book of Mormon: the "what?!" in Hasa Diga Eebowai. The way Nikki James sings "I'm wet with salvation" in Baptize Me. The Matrix choreography and "I'm gonna man up all over myself" from Man Up. The "I'm in the lead for the very first time" -- "I'm going where the sun always shines" exchange. I just love Man Up a lot.

A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder: literally the opening and closing notes. "The ignominity!" "The -- what?" (I Don't Understand the Poor). The choreography of I've Decided to Marry You. Monty's last "what?" in Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun.

Falsettos: the minor keys in Love is Blind. "This this this this, this had better come to an end." (This Had Better Come to a Stop). "You ask me is it fun to cry over nothing? It is!" (I'm Breaking Down). "Nancy Reagan, meanest and thinnest of the First Ladies" with the punching bag (Falsettoland). The unexpected Avenue Q energy of Everyone Hates His Parents. The internal rhyme structure of You Gotta Die Sometime.

Assassins: "only capitalists get photographers!" (How I Saved Roosevelt). "First of all when you've a gun (Guiteau cocks his gun and aims at the audience) everybody pays attention!" (The Gun Song). "Charlie said hell, if I am guilty then God is as well. But God was acquitted and Charlie committed until he should hang" (The Ballad of Guiteau). The 2004 revival combining the Balladeer with Oswald.

Groundhog Day: The ensemble quietly going "nobody gives a flying fuck" in the background of Nobody Cares. The way the line "someday I'll get a new coffee maker" is sung, and the harmonization on "Tomorrow spring will come" (One Day). The suicide tableaux/body doubles for Hope. The way Andy Karl's voice breaks on "the fucking roads have all been trod" (Hope). "And I would be a lot more zen, and I would punch a lot of men, if I had my time again" (If I Had My Time Again). Ned's reprise of his jingle at the end of Night Will Come. The exchange between Phil and Rita, "how about we keep this professional?" "I could pay you."

[title of show]: "Who wants to see Paris Hilton in the Apple Tree?" (An Original Musical). Heidi and Susan harmonizing in Monkeys and Playbills. The piano in Part of It All. "What happens if we don't get accepted to the festival?" "Then that will be Act II" in a one act show. Reading a bad review verbatim that ends with "they'll probably use this in their show." Closing the show with diamond encrusted chairs on stage.

Hadestown: "the river's gonna break its banks for us" (Wedding Song). "And Hades lays them high and thick with a million hands that are not his own" (Epic II). "The song he's working on is gonna shelter us from the wind the wind the wind" and every use of "lover" in Chant. The duet in How Long. "Oh, it's about me" (Epic III). "I let them try." "And how about you and I? Are we gonna try again?" "It's time for spring. We'll try again next fall." "Wait for me." "I will." (Wait for Me Reprise. 😭)

[certaingoateeavenue]

GENERAL HEADCANONS

•Mary is a Catholic bi girl

•Edward is gay and didn't realize until Liz just straight up told them.

•Edward goes by He/Them pronouns

•Henry goes by either Hal,Fitz or Roy

•DO NOT call him Henry.

•Also gay but knew and accepted himself the easiest with that.

•Mary Queen of Scots goes by the names of Scots,Stuart,Maria & Ree.

•Her son James gets reincarted when she's 25.

•Eventhough this time around she doesn't have to she still declares Elizabeth as his godmother something, Bess pretended not to cry at.

•Jane Grey goes by Janie or Grey (really only Elizabeth calls her Grey as a joke tho).

•Janie is pansexual and uses she/they pronouns.

•To Mary's dismay, Elizabeth is more chaotic than Anne if that is even possible.

•Elizabeth has many nicknames consistin of ,Eliza, Liza, Liz, Lizzie, Beth, Bess, Bessie, Eli, Betsey, Betty, Lisbeth or Lisbet (only by Anne for that that one) or all of them if your Edward trying to get her attention.

•Elizabeth is now known as the biggest flirt (when she not committed to Robert Dudley of course) because she veiws it as a little F U to her father that killed her mother on behalf of those reasons.

•This time it's much to Fitz and Ed's dismay.

•Elizabeth always forces Edward to letting her his nails and make-up (they secretly enjoy & Bess knows that he does). Sometimes she does Hal's nails too

•Mary become the least proctective of Liz purely because she realised how much worse it was for her now that Anne & Hal & Edward & Scots & even sometimes Jane Seymour or Anna Von Kleves are with coddling or protecting her.

•Mary Seymour only goes by Mae it's such a big thing Cathy is just considering changing her name to that legally.

•Mae is the youngest in the queen's(+ a king) household.

•To everyone surprise Mary is actually better at babysitting her than Elizabeth while Edward is just being her supportive cousin on the side.

•Their heights go Hal:5'10 Mary:5'8 Maria:5'8 Edward:5'6 1/2 Elizabeth 5'4 Janie:4'10 (small bean).

•Their ages go Mary:21 Hal:21 Elizabeth:15 Edward:15 Maria:15 Janie:14

SOON/AFTER REINCARNATION

•Fitzroy was reincarnated about 5 years before the rest of the Tudor siblings were because his mum works with the reincarnation company.

•Anna was the one to open the door when Mary, Elizabeth, Edward & Mae woke up outside the house and the first thing she did was yell back to the queen's sitting anxiously inside the living room "I have one hell of surprise for you guys!".

•After a short-lived staring contest between Anna & Mary, the kids (well only one toddler really and two teengers + a 20 year old) were escorted to shocked faces sat on a sofa.

•Edward & Mary did not instantly go to mothers but instead opt to death stare Cathy until Liz slapped them round the back of their heads as a way to say stop.

•After Anne embracing her and sobbing for ten minutes, Bess simply got bored step back from her, look down at her hands and go "Holy Shit, I'm young!!!" and proceed to run around like a headless chicken continually shouting at the top of her lungs " I'M NOT SIXTY" " Mary,MARY,LOOK!!"

•It took a couple of weeks with a lot of convincing of Bess to stop Edward from wanting to murder Cathy every time he saw her.

•Edward might be the youngest but don't get wrong Elizabeth is the baby of the family.

•When Mary came out as bi to her Catalina, Elizabeth & Anna went all protective mode in that conversation

•This later became the reason why Mary didnt go out of her way threaten Robert whe he started dating Bess, as a little but meaningful thank you to her for her support.

TUDOR FAMILY

•At some point in the future Scots' son (James) is reincarnated.

•Elizabeth is once again his godmother but this time it's not a bribe.

•Because Bess babysat James so much Mary asked why,, as she usually wasn't to keen on baby no matter what relation, she answered to it with a calm response of "James is my GODSON, I am his GODMOTHER, this child makes a God by name, of course I will protect him with my life"

•They both hate to admit but our both (especially scots) protective of eachother, with Bess denying something that's true and Mary just using an excuse like "If someone is going to cause Elizabeth bodily harm it's going to be me".

BESS AND THE DUDLEY'S

•When the Dudley's get reincarnated (John now as a better person) she (and Janie) are accepted as part of the family, with Bess being Mary (Mars) Dudley's best friend, Roberts kinda girlfriend depending ont the day(wife in everyway apart from legally), Guildford's chaotic partner-in- crime and John's golden child (even if it's not legal)

•Liz & Mars' friendship is basically them bitching about people they don't like and/or disgust them, daring eachother to do dumb shit and Mary pretending Elizabeth isn't making out with her brother in their school corridors.

•Elizabeth & Guildford Dudley go further than the rest of Bess's siblings and cousins in calling him there cousin-in-law by calling eachother 'My practically brother/sister in law' to the point everyone refers to the two them like that.

•One day Robert goes up to Liz and asks if she considers them 'practically married',she of course denied it (once again tho it was true) but they both ( and everyone else for that matter) know it's the reason behind her & Guildford's nicknames.

•To any encanto and spop fans Robert Dudley & Elizabeth is literally just Pepa & Felix + Mermista & Seahawk rolled into one.

•The queen's + kid's household now just expect to see Ed rolling after school looking exhausted and judgemental at the fact right behind him Elizabeth is storming inside with an apologetic Robert behind her. Sometimes Mars is there too taking pictures of her distressed brother.

•During the many off stages of their on & off relationship Robert has acquired many things thrown at him while they've been breaking up. Consisting of an egg Elizabeth for some reason had in her bedroom, hairdryer, hair straightener etc.,etc.,many,many shoes + hats, the two miny pride flags she has in honour of Edward & Mary ( gay for Ed, bi for Mary), a lot of makeup bags, a few pillows, and a couple of hairbrushes, + more ( at separate dates to be clear, this wasn't all at one of their break ups).

•The Duldeys mainly call Elizabeth Eliza out of habit because in their past life they remembered how she cringed when saying her full name because it was a reminder that as the king's daughter she could never relax in a place that wasn't her household.

•John Dudley considers Elizabeth his daughter and has at many points in time invited her out to a coffee shop even when her and Robert weren't in their realtionship.

•Lizzie has always considered John a father figure.

FAMILY DYNAMICS

•To start it of we have Bess & Eddie who have the closest bond within the siblings due to there now only being a 33 day age difference between them. Plus their both in most of eachothers classes in school.

•Then we have Mary and Hal their relationship is complicated, always has been, always will, but they do occasionally bond on being the oldest of the reincarnated Tudors and obviously their bat-shit crazy siblings.

•Mary & Bess are probably the pair that are the second closest to eachother. It's more of advice giving bond they have, mainly because Mary's still trying to make up for the past and Elizabeth doesn't trust her mum to not go mental with some of the stuff she needs help with.

•With Mary and Edward it's quite awkward with how they nether saw eye to eye in the past. But Mary will still do anything for them because of gravely she missed them when he died.

•Edward and Hal really only occasionally roll their eyes to eachother whe their sisters are being dramatic (acting like their not).

•Roy still has a hard getting over the fact the Bess is a teenager and not the 3 year old girl who could barely reach his knee, but height dilemmas aside, their quite close and always tease eachother. Roy always beats everyone else in being Elizabeths biggest supporter

• Mary nor Hal are particularly closes to their cousins and usually stick together when the have their family reunions.

•They both might die keeping it a secret, but with as much agression they display towards one another Ree & Lizzie have one of the most heart warming friendship you will ever see.

• Janie and Eddie are eachothers best friends and are referred to as the little sunshine's of the family.

And no I don't take criticism

[janeyseymour]

Have You Been Taking Care of Yourself?- a fanfic

prompt: Have you been taking care of yourself?

WC: 2044

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Jane Seymour to be seen around the house, around the theatre, around the town doing what she could for others. It was very rare that she ever took the time to take care of herself, although she would tell you that by taking care of others she was taking care of herself. 

“Okay guys,” Jane addressed the group as she loaded the dishes from dinner into the dishwasher. “So, tomorrow we only have a night show- no matinee. I’ll clean up around the house in the morning, but then I promised Val I would help out at the library for a little bit- you know just clean up some of the children’s sections and organize a bit. You know how kids can get.” 

The blonde closed the door to the dishwasher before forgetting that she didn’t put in the dish detergent. “Do you think you could all manage to get to the theatre on time? Because Joan wants to run that new little lick that she thought would go well in my song before we put it in. And then the next day, I think I’m going to volunteer at the food pantry in the morning before the shows, but I was thinking we could all have dinner after? I’ll cook. And oh, Kat: don’t think I’ve forgotten about that shirt I told you I would embroider.” She closed the dishwasher once more, this time loaded with detergent before pressing the start button. Turning to her family, she put her hands on her hips and looked at the youngest. “I’ll do that after the show tomorrow.”

“You sound like you really have your days planned out for the next few days,” Catherine noted diligently.

The third monarch grinned. “I like to stay busy. Now, I’ve got to go to my room to coordinate a few things for tomorrow with Val, but I’ll be sure to make my rounds before I head to bed. If you need me, don’t hesitate to knock, yes?” The other five queens nodded their heads, watching in wonderment as the woman dressed in grey made her way up the stairs.

“Does she-” Cathy started.

“There’s no way she doesn’t,” Anne finished.

“She’s well aware that Edward's birthday and her death day are coming soon. She’s doing what she can to distract herself,” Catherine stated as if it was obvious. “She isn’t ignoring it, although she’s doing her best to try.”

“How are we supposed to help her?” Kat wondered.

“I suppose we just let her live. If she wishes to distract herself, then sobeit. We just have to be there when she breaks.”

“I think we can do that,” the fourth queen affirmed.

A week had passed, and Jane was still on the move- desperate as ever to get her mind off of her son and her untimely passing. Only, it was getting harder. 

Any time she slept now, Edward haunted her dreams. Sometimes it was his birth all over again, the feeling of a three day labor returning. Other times, it was as though she was an angel watching over him as he mused his wishes for his mother to come back. Once it was the blonde boy confronting her angrily over her death- how could she leave him with such a horrible father, and wasn’t she supposed to be the first woman he would ever love; but he would never get that chance since she had the audacity to slip away from him before they could properly meet. 

The blonde had been making meals for the queens for days now- something that each of the other queens knew was Jane’s way of coping. The third queen was already in the kitchen cooking or baking more than the others ever were, but it was more and more that the house smelled of something sweet being baked. Jane never ate any of it; she gave it away instead to those that she loved: her family, the food bank down the road, those at the theatre she thought could use a pick-me-up. The thought of food at this point made the woman nauseous. Not knowing if she could stomach the food, she had resorted to supplementing with a protein shake before continuing on with her hectic days she had planned. 

“So, are we going to ignore Janey’s death day like she is or...?” the second queen questioned after the silver queen had excused herself from the table that night. Edward’s birthday had come and gone, and it seemed as though Jane was doing just fine.

“If this is how she’s coping with it- I know it isn’t necessarily healthy- but who are we to try to get her upset over it?” The writer wondered aloud.

“I’m not sure she’s coping with it very well though,” Kat sighed into her hand, half asleep. “Last night when I went to her room, she was wide awake. I didn’t think she’s been sleeping at night, so I stayed awake all night. She was awake too, until like five in the morning. I could practically hear the gears in her mind turning. Once she fell asleep, I did too, but when I woke up she wasn’t asleep anymore.”

“She was downstairs and saw me out for my run at six this morning,” Cleves muttered. “Has she not been sleeping at all these past few nights?”

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I have to go talk to Jane.” Catherine pushed herself up from her seat before beginning to make her way out of the room.

“Don’t you think-” Parr started.

“Querida, whatever is happening is far more unhealthy than Jane just letting herself break. Someone needs to talk to her,” the gold queen stated triumphantly before continuing up the steps and towards the grey room.

“Jane, love? Can I come in?” When the first queen heard no response, she assumed that the third queen was finally getting the shuteye she needed, but her light was still on. Turning the knob and letting herself into the room though, she found a puffy-eyed Jane Seymour awake and trembling.

“Oh honey,” Aragon sighed as she made her way across the room.

“I thought I could handle it this year,” the blonde winced as she busied herself with folding laundry. “If I just continued on like it was any other day, I thought I could handle it.”

Catherine plucked the shirt out of the trembling woman’s hands before folding it and placing it in the pile. Grabbing another, she asked, “Have you been taking care of yourself? Like, really and truly taking care of yourself? None of that ‘by taking care of others, I am taking care of myself’ shit.” Jane shook her head defeatedly.

“I haven’t slept more than two hours a night in the past two weeks, Lina. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is him.”

“Him?” The gold queen froze, the pants in her hands half folded.

The silver queen looked at Catalina for the first time since she entered the room before solemnly whispering, “Eddie.”

“Oh honey.” The pair of pants having been dropped to the ground, the elder queen embraced the third with all the love she could muster up. “You must be exhausted.”

“I am,” the younger monarch’s voice broke a little as she buried her face in the other’s shoulder. “I haven’t been able to eat either. I don’t think I can stomach anything at the moment, and I haven’t been able to since three days before his birthday.”

“When you went into labor,” Catherine sighed, a wave of sadness twinging through her for her friend. Jane nodded. “I’m so sorry, love. Why didn’t you-”

“Because I knew you would all dote on me, and I just don't know if I could handle that again. It’s like it makes it worse when you do. All that swims through my mind is Edward and the fact that I-” the younger queen pulled away from the woman dressed in yellow before mumbling, “-I failed him. I thought if I could take care of others, it would help me like it usually does but...”

“Querida, this is a completely different situation, and you did not have to go through it alone.”

“I’m sorry,” was all the troubled woman could breathe out.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for honey. But instead of taking this all on by yourself and constantly caring for others, why don’t you let us take care of you for a change? Nothing has to be out of the ordinary.”

“How would we even do that?”

“We treat it as though you’re on your period. I’m assuming you’ve been having phantom pains that you’ve just been ignoring?” Catherine voiced. When Jane meekly nodded, the first queen all but scooped her up into her arms and placed her in her bed. “I’ll be back in a few moments.”

“Please don’t leave me,” the blonde whimpered out. 

“I won’t be but a few minutes,” she assured the woman in bed. When she noticed the pout that was beginning to grow on the younger woman’s face, Catherine pulled out her cell phone to text Kat. “What if I had Kat come keep you company while I just do a few things downstairs? I promise you I won’t be more than ten minutes.” Seeing that Jane seemed content with the plan, she asked the fifth queen to come keep the third monarch company for a few minutes. 

“I’ve been summoned?” the pink haired queen joked before sliding onto the bed next to her maternal figure. When Jane grimaced in pain, Katherine immediately backed off.

“No, no, please come here. I’m fine.” The blonde waved a hand dismissively. “Just a bit of cramping, but nothing will stop me from-”

“Say no more Mum. You just tell me if you get uncomfortable, and I’ll help you in any way I can,” Kat told the woman gently.

Satisfied that Jane was finally taking a moment to rest, Catherine made her way out of the room.

When Catalina walked downstairs, she heard the television playing softly, but all eyes were on her.

“So?” the television show now forgotten about, the four women on the couch were staring at her curiously.

“She hasn’t slept more than two hours each night since three night’s before Edward’s birthday. She hasn’t eaten much since then either, unsure if she could stomach anything other than a light protein shake in the mornings. It’s no wonder she looks like absolute hell: the malnutrition along with the lack of sleep would have anyone looking like a zombie.”

“And yet she still looks like our Janey, although a few pounds lighter if I do say so myself,” Anne noted.

“Her sweater did look a bit bigger on her now that you mention it,” Cathy added on.

“So what are we doing about it?” Anna looked ready to help in any way she could.

“She doesn’t want us to make a big fuss over it. Says it makes it worse than it already is. I told her we could handle it like we handle any particularly bad period for any of us.”

“I’ll go get the heating pad.” Cathy stood from her place and headed to her room.

“I’ll make some toast,” Anne replied and made her way to the kitchen.

When Catherine gave her a stern look, Cleves sighed. “I’ll go cut up some bananas for the bread and make sure Boleyn doesn’t burn down the house making toast.”

“Very well. I’ll be in Jane’s room.”

That night, Jane slept peacefully with her five housemates by her side. For the first time in three weeks, the blonde queen was able to close her eyes without being harassed with terrible thoughts flooding her brain. Instead, her dreams were pleasant: a young blonde boy, a striking image of Jane (no Henry could be detected in this boy), enjoying the day with his mother- the five other queens included.

When the third queen woke up the next morning, she was greeted with a breakfast made by the house’s very own Catherine of Aragon. At her place sat a note:

Take care of yourself, and when you can’t: Let us take care of you.

[super-unpredictable98]

Me and Ms. Adolphson (Me and Mrs. Jones AU)

Chapter 4: Birthday Boy

Warning: Strong language, alcohol abuse.

(Me and Ms. Adolphson Masterlist)

"So, what does your friend like?" Ake followed Saga around the store like a puppy.

"Well, I haven't known him very long, but I do know he likes videogames, so I'm just gonna get him Far Cry 3."

"Sounds nice. Am I going to this party tonight?"

"Ake, I don't know if it's a good idea..."

"Come on, Saggy, I really want to meet your new friends! You have been so distant ever since I arrived, acting all weird, I miss you."

"Fine! You can come," she sighed heavily.

As soon as Saga walked through the door she was greeted by Jason, Gemma, and Alfie having a discussion... It was nice to be back home.

"Inca spends hours in the bathroom, you spend what? Five minutes?" Jason rolled his eyes.

"She does take quite a few hours to get ready, I was always late for everything," Saga laughed with nostalgia despite everything.

"Come on, I'll give you guys a lift to Alfie's party in the van."

"Tom is giving us a lift," Alfie sneered.

"You invited that knob to your party?" Jason gasped. "Why?"

"Because he's mum's boyfriend."

"Party?" Saga squinted dramatically. "Is it someone's birthday?"

"I told you yesterday, dear, it's Alfie's birthday," Gemma whispered.

"Silly me, if only I had bought a gift..." she waved the small bag in front of him.

"Awesome! You didn't have to... But I'm glad you did," Alfie grabbed the bag and  quickly ripped the wrapping paper.

The look on Gemma's face was one of pure joy, taking Saga in was probably the best decision she ever made, she was like Alfie's new sister... Joking around and laughing.

"I hope you like it," she sat by him.

"You really do know me, you little bitch..." he got as excited as a little boy.  "Thank you!"

"Happy birthday, you twat," Saga hugged him tightly.

"You're coming to my party tonight, right?"

"Of course! But I do have to ask you something... Would it be okay if Ake came?  He's been complaining that he doesn't know my new friends."

"Sure, bring him, the more the merrier."

Saga was hoping Alfie would say no, then she would have an excuse not to bring Ake... Oh well, it would be fine, maybe things would get a little less awkward once they all met, right?

"Gemma, which one?" she quickly ran downstairs with two dresses in hand.

"The red one for sure."

"I like the blue one," Jason tilted his head.

"Check out my bootylicious fine ass!" Alfie walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but the underwear he got from his mum.

"God, you're gonna give me nightmares," Saga teased.

"Only if by nightmares you mean wet dreams..."

"Which one?" she showed him the dresses.

"The red one, it says 'shag me, but work for it first'."

"That's exactly the vibe I was going for."

Saga was not looking forward to seeing Inca that night, she was looking forward to seeing Billy, of course, but not while she's with Ake... This party had everything to be a big mess, but it was Alfie's night and the last thing she wanted was to ruin that for him.

"You look like my mum with bits of makeup on," he didn't take his eyes from the magazine he was browsing through.

"But is it too much? I don't want Tom to think I'm trying to look too young."

"Relax, you look old."

"Alfie!" Saga scolded. "You look the appropriate age, Gemma."

"Thanks... Wow, you look fantastic!" she mused in awe.

"A proper hottie," Alfie agreed. "He's gonna lose his mind."

"You really think so?" the girl smiled. "Billy doesn't seem..."

"Billy? I meant Ake."

"Oh sure, yeah, Ake, my boyfriend!" she looked at Gemma with terrified eyes.

"I'll get it," Alfie jumped from the bed as the doorbell rang.

"You can do it," she seemed to read Saga's mind. "Don't worry, it will be fun."

——————————————————

"You look like a young Jane Seymour, Gemma," Tom said praisingly as he started the car.

"This car is sweet!" Alfie was pressing every button in reach, he really was like a little boy.

"I'm sorry I didn't pre-warm the seat for you two, I wasn't sure you were coming with us... So, are you excited for tonight, Alfie?"

"It's gonna be great, I've got Billy as my wingman so I expect we'll be pulling big time!"

"Billy's like catnip to the ladies, Poppy is definitely smitten... And I suspect she's not the only one, right, Saga?"

"Me? N-n-no! I'm not..."

"Are you alright? You look like you're about to faint," Alfie took her face in his hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine! Just a little... How do you call it? Oh, motion sickness, that's all."

"Oh, my Poppy gets it all the time, would you like me to stop?" Tom asked. "Humming will make you feel better."

"No, I'll be fine, I'm okay."

As they approached the bar, Saga only got more nervous. When they finally walked through the door, Gemma took her hand, noticing how uncomfortable the girl was.

"He doesn't bite," she whispered.

"I wish he did," Saga blurted out before thinking twice.

"Look at you!" Fran greeted, pulling her away from her daydreams. "Don't you two look stunning?"

"Oh, thank you, Fran," she grinned. "You too, I love this dress!"

"Yeah, very... Glamorous," Gemma gestured towards the gold sequin dress.

Saga couldn't help but blush when she spotted Billy talking to Alfie across the  room. Before her brain even gave the command, her legs were already taking  her to him.

"Hey," she tried not to sound so nervous.

"Oh, hi!" Billy flashed her a dazzling smile. "Long time no see, how are you?"

"I'm good, how are you?"

"Yeah, I'm good too," she didn't know, but he was also trying not to sound nervous.

"Saga, would you please help me to convince Billy to join me on my quest to  snog a model?" Alfie huffed. "C'mon, mate!"

"Like I said, I'm not really that into it."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Well, I thought that... You said the other night..."

"You should do it."

"Really?" he sounded almost hurt.

"Yeah, you're a nice-looking young man, who's single."

"Oh, now I'm single? If I remember correctly, the other night with the bachelorettes you were very intent on..."

"Well, that night was a mistake. Ake is coming."

"I see," Billy nodded with a playful look that said 'you will regret this'. "So Thor is comin'? Alright."

"Ok, now you two just made it weird," Alfie looked at his friends confused. "Hey,  Tooth! Come here!"

A nerdy-looking guy followed by two beautiful girls walked up to them. The nickname was certainly mean, but the so-called Tooth didn't seem to mind.

"Tooth, this is my mate Saga, she's from Sweden."

"Oh, tjenare," Tooth shook her hand eagerly. "This is my sister, Amy and this is Lisa."

"Hello, girls," she tried not to sound completely bitter and mean, it wasn't their fault.

"Can I get you a drink, Saga?" Billy noticed her discomfort.

"Yeah, actually could you..."

"Hello," Amy cut her off and stood in front of her to shake his hand. "I'm Amy,  Tooth's sister, not his girlfriend in case you're wondering."

"Well, thanks for the background information," he joked.

"I like to be upfront..."

"So I see. But if you’ll excuse me I gotta-"

"Hello, party people!" a voice deep and loud like thunder got everyone's attention as Ake wrapped his arms around Saga's waist.

"Hey, you! I'm so glad you came..." the girl tried to sound excited.

"Man, how much do you lift?" Alfie stared shamelessly at his muscles.

"This is Alfie, our birthday boy," she giggled.

"Nice to meet you, Saggy told me so much about you," Ake tapped his shoulder firmly.

"The famous Ake," Billy tried to hide his jealousy. "I'm Billy, Saga's..."

"Saga! Alfie! Ake!" Inca called from one of the tables.

"And the night only gets better," she murmured under her breath. "Hey..."

"You can do it," Billy squeezed her hand reassuringly.

The trio joined Inca at a table where she was drinking a very colorful cocktail. Her over-the-top ponytail was waving as she moved to sip from the straw.

"I'm having great news!" she clapped happily. "Jason and I are getting married!"

"Wow, that's amazing!" Ake took her hand. "Congratulations."

"Yeah, I'm so happy for you," Saga really meant it, as much as things have been weird between them, she still loved her sister to bits.

"I guess," Alfie shrugged.

"This is gonna be the most important day of my life and I want you to be a part of it," Inca explained. "Alfie, I'm your stepmother..."

"Not really."

"You're funny little boy, how would you like being the usher? You'll be doing it with my three brothers and Ake who are 6'4'', so they might be making you look like a tiny elf."

"I'll be honored," Ake agreed immediately, while Alfie was still weirded out by the request.

"I knew I could count on you... And you, Saga, would you be my maid of honor?"

"You want me to be your maid of honor? Really?" she stared in disbelief.

"Of course, you're the only sister I have, and you know how hard it is to be making friends when you look so gorgeous, women get jealous of me."

"Well, sure, I'll do it," Saga fidgeted nervously with her bracelets. "You are my family and all..."

"Thank you! It will be so special having you there."

"Oh, bloody hell!" Gemma's screech made everyone turn around, she had spilled wine on her perfectly white dress. "Why am I like this?"

"Don't worry, come with me, I have stain remover in my purse," Saga rushed to help.

"Then we go to the lavatory like English women do, we go together," Inca joined them.

In the restroom, Saga kept trying to look for the pen, but two voices kept  stopping her from being able to focus:

"He's totally fit," Amy said.

"Billy? Oh yeah, you should so go there..." Lisa replied.

"I'm so gonna go there and he's so not gonna know what's hit him."

"Jävla slyna..." Saga cursed through gritted teeth as the girls left.

"That doesn't sound very good," Gemma grimaced.

"It's not," Inca looked at her sister surprised. "Do you know them?"

"Unfortunately," she finally found the stain remover and was now rubbing it on  the tragically stained dress.

"So, Gemma," Inca quickly twisted the situation to make it all about herself. "I want you to know Jason and I really hope you come to the wedding. I know it's a bit odd for his ex-woman to be there, but we really want Charlotte and Jess to be our bridesmaids and if you hold on to Tom, he will look great in the photos."

"Oh, right, thanks... I'm sure the girls will love it," Gemma agreed.

"Jason is being in charge of the wedding and he's being plenty secretive. He said it might take some time because everything is looking to be booked. This will be the best wedding ever!"

"I'm sorry if the whole 'Jason and I not being divorced' thing is holding you up... I'm sure we can sort it pretty easily."

Inca's eyes went wide, gaping at Saga, holding her arm tightly, but before any of them could respond, Fran came into the bathroom in a rage, pulling Gemma by the arm.

"You're not gonna believe this, there's a girl out there wearing the exact same dress as me..."

"Are you ready, girls?" Gemma asked as Fran dragged her outside.

"I will be with you shortly, please proceed without me," Inca tried to keep calm.

"Okay, thank you so much, Saga!"

"It's nothing..." the girl mumbled.

As soon as the two sisters were alone, Inca screamed loud enough to leave her sister's ears ringing, hitting the sink with all her strength and nearly breaking the faucet.

"Did you hear that? They are still married!"

"You didn't know?"

"Of course not, Saga! I wouldn't be with Jason if I knew! I'm not being anyone's mistress!"

"Neither am I... Now you understand how I felt when you said I would try to steal Jason from you?"

"I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have said that," Inca looked genuinely sad. "I was  being irrational, do you forgive me?"

"Yeah, how can I not?" Saga gave her a hug. "I love you."

"I love you too," she was trying very hard not to cry, so she wouldn't ruin the mascara. "You need to be helping me."

"I don't know what I can do, Inca, I'm already dealing with some major issues of my own."

"With those girls?"

"Well, kind of... I'm in love."

"Of course you are, Ake is a wonderful man and..."

"Not with Ake, I'm in love with another boy. My heart is broken, he's all I want, but I don't have the guts to break up."

"Aw, Saga..." she pressed her sister's head to her chest. "But who could ever be better than Ake?"

"This one is, he’s magnetic... I've never felt like this about anyone before. And I pushed him into another girl's arms tonight."

"Then let's go, you can keep an eye on your boy while you're gathering the courage to dump your boyfriend and I'll be giving Jason a piece of my mind!"

They were holding hands and marching towards the table when Billy made his way down the narrow hallway.

"I'll be with you in a second, Inca."

"Okay, but don't be taking too long! Your boy is waiting."

"Hi," he leaned against the wall. "Looks like you and your sister made up, isn't it?"

"Yeah we did," Saga tried not to get lost in his piercing green eyes. "How is it  going living with Tom?"

"It's good, he's actually a really nice fella... How are things between you and Ake?"

"Okay."

"Have you been successful buryin' our kisses?"

"I-I... Think so. And so have you, Amy seems nice."

"Right, yeah, nice..."

"At least she won't send you any mixed signals, you need someone who won't complicate your life."

"Do I? What if I like complications?"

"You do, and I need to make things work with Ake."

"Do you? What if you don't love him anymore?"

"I do, he's sacrificing so much for me."

"Looks like you've got it all figured out then... You and Ake, and Amy and me."

"Seems like it."

"So you'd be fine with me walkin' Amy home tonight?" he took a few steps, closing the distance between them.

"Billy..."

"Maybe lingerin' on the doorstep, removin' a stray hair that's fallin' across her face just so I can touch her?" he did exactly as he said with Saga, as if giving her an example. "Maybe I'll kiss her as we stand there? Not yet knowing whether or not I'm gonna wake up next to her... But hoping that I'll hold her all night, and be the first thing that she sees when she wakes up in the mornin'. You'll be fine with that, will ya?"

"Y-yeah," Saga was on the verge of tears from imagining that, but she couldn't lead him on any further.

"Good, glad we're clear then... Friend. Y'wouldn't mind if I used my glow on her, right?"

"Right," she turned around and left before he could see how teary she got.

She ran, trying to find anyone who could offer her the slightest bit of comfort, someone to tell her it would be ok.

"Are you alright, Sag?" Alfie looked over Lisa's shoulder. "Are you having some sort of mental breakdown?"

"Oh God, I just wanna go home."

"Come on, it's my birthday! Please stay... I want you to have fun."

"Why does it have to be so hard?"

"What is so hard?"

"My love, I've been looking for you," Ake draped his arm around Saga's shoulder.

"This!" she shouted.

Alfie looked at her confused while her boyfriend tried to kiss her lips. Before she had the chance to process everything happening around her, Billy arrived with a tray that he placed on the table where Inca, Jason, Tom, and Gemma were sitting.

"Lovely Rachel has sent some shots on the house, for the birthday boy!"

"Oh, thank God," Saga grabbed two and downed them in a matter of seconds, Inca did the same and Alphie laughed.

"So that's where you get it from..."

"Sláinte," Billy winked at Saga before taking one. He had no right being this charming, she nearly forgot how to breathe.

She kept glancing over at him and Amy. He glanced back, watching as Ake gently kissed her neck.

"It must be hard to see your wife with a more attractive man, isn't it?" Inca finally broke the silence.

"What? Ex-wife," Jason quickly corrected.

"Really? Because Gemma is telling me that you two are not divorced!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Is that true, mum?" Alfie seemed almost amused. "Are you still married to Kermit?"

"Oi!" Jason chastised.

"I think everyone should just calm down..." Billy tried to fix the situation.

"Inca, this can be solved in a week, you don't need to lose sleep over that," Saga took her sister's hands. "I can help Gemma with the papers and all."

"No, you're being so sweet, but you were right. You are having your own problems with your boyfriend and the other boy you like," she immediately covered her mouth after saying that.

"Other boy you like, huh?" Billy chuckled. "And who could that be?"

"What is she talking about?" Ake asked, puzzled.

"Nothing!" Inca shook her head. "Gemma, tell me at once, are you or are you not married to Jason?"

"Well, I suppose technically we still are, but that doesn't mean... I thought you knew!"

"If I knew he still had the old ball and chain around his knees, we would not be engaged!" she turned away from him. "I can't believe I was fighting with my sister over you!"

"Over me?" Jason clutched his chest. "What did I do?"

"You wanted to live in pigamy with me!" Inca cried.

"I think you mean bigamy," Tom cut in.

"You son of a bitch!" she threw the first drink she could get her hands on at Jason.

"Hey, hey, this is Alfie's party, I don't think this is the right place to..." Billy once again tried to calm everyone's nerves, but no one was having it.

"I'm fine, man, this is good stuff," the birthday boy leaned back on his chair.

"You're right, Irish, I am a dignified person," Inca got up, ready to storm off.  "Gemma, I hope we can remain friends, thank you so much for taking care of Saga when I was being so horrible to her. Jason, you are dead to me!"

"Inca! Please, love of my life..." he ran after her.

"I see now why you didn't want me to come," Ake mumbled.

"Hey! Don't be an asshole!" Saga folded her arms. "I like these people!"

"I didn't mean..."

"I think you should go back to the hotel."

"Maybe it's best, I'll call you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," she didn't move to kiss him goodbye.

"I think I wanna go home," Gemma groaned, feeling horrible for ruining the night for everyone.

"I'll take you," Tom offered, very politely.

"I'll come with you," Saga took her purse, watching Amy kiss Billy's cheek.

"No! Come on..." Alfie protested.

"I wouldn't wanna be the fifth wheel," the worst part is that she could've avoided this, but she didn't. "I'm sorry, Alfie, I promise we can hang out tomorrow, whatever you wanna do."

"I'll hold you to that!"

"Fine, you annoying little bastard," she gave him a quick hug. Billy expected one as well, he's been craving her touch ever since the night he left, but she simply shook his hand, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to let go of him. "Make sure he gets home in one piece, will you?"

"Leave it to me."

——————————————————

"I officially hate myself!" Saga let her body crash on the couch after taking a shower and putting on some more comfortable clothes. "I did this!"

"It sounds to me like you've made up your mind," Gemma sat by her, stroking her hair. "You should talk to Ake."

"I don't know how, plus the one I like probably doesn't want me anymore."

"Who are we talking about?" Tom asked.

"No one..." Saga covered her face with a pillow.

"At least something good happened, right? You and Inca got to talk," Gemma tried to cheer the poor girl up.

"I suppose, that was nice. I really missed her."

"If you want to move in with her, I totally understand..."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No! God, no! I just don't want you to feel like you need to stay here if you don't want to. There you can have your own room, and more privacy..."

"I love it here, I like being around the girls and Alfie."

"I would never ask you to leave, Saga, you're like a sister to them, and kinda like a daughter to me."

"Whatever it is that is bothering you," Tom said in that fatherly tone of his. "It will get better, I know it will. You're a clever girl, I know you'll find a way to make it work."

"Thanks, Tom," she sighed.

"In we go, mate!" Billy's voice made her sit up.

The door open and he walked in carrying Alfie, who was beyond drunk and wearing... Lisa's dress?

"Alfie!" Gemma ran to help him.

"Mum, mum, is it you?" he slurred.

"He got into a drinking competition with Lisa and lost," Billy closed the door without letting go of his friend.

"It's cause she's taller than me, she's like a long straw..." Alfie moaned. "And cause I lost she said we had to swap clothes instead of numbers, but don't worry mum, I kept the pants that you got me."

He lifted the dress up, showing that he, in fact, did not keep the pants. He was wearing a pair of lacy knickers.

"Oh, Lord," Saga snorted with laughter.

"I'll help him, come on," Tom took Alfie's arm and carried him up the stairs, followed by Gemma.

"My butt is cold..." he grunted.

"I bet it is, mate," Saga covered her mouth, still giggling uncontrollably.

"That's not what I was hopin' t'see tonight," Billy watched as they all walked into the bathroom.

"Me neither, but I'm not disappointed..."

"So, are you okay?" he asked softly. "You seemed pretty upset when Ake left... Have you been cryin'?"

"I'm fine. You must be angry, though. Bringing Alfie home probably ruined your night."

"No, it didn't."

"Well, from what you've said, Alfie wasn't the person you wanted to walk home tonight. Unless you wanna wake up next to him," Saga joked.

"It's not him I wanna wake up next to..."

"It's Amy."

"It's not Amy either, you know that. She's not even my type, she's so clingy and arrogant, I hate people who think they're better than everyone," Billy placed his hands on her sides, getting dangerously close, so close she could smell the whiskey in his breath. "Saga Adolphson, y'know damn well the person I wanna wake up next to is y-"

"Gemma!" a loud scream completely ruined the magic of that moment.  "Gemma!"

"Jesus Christ," she ran to open the door, Tom followed close behind.

"This is all your fault!" Jason was the one screaming like a maniac at the door.

"Look, I'm sorry I told her, but I thought she knew!"

"She kicked me out! I've got nowhere to go!"

"Well, you can't stay here."

"Why not? This used to be my house too, besides I am the father of your children, do you want me to sleep in a dustbin?"

"Fine! One night..."

"Saga, please, will you talk to her?" Jason begged. "You need to convince her to take me back."

"I can try, but I know my sister... When she puts an idea in her mind, not even a brain surgeon can get it out."

"We should probably go," Tom gave Gemma a kiss.

"It's probably for the best, I'm sorry about all of this..." she looked at him apologetically.

"It's okay, don't worry. Billy, do you need a lift home or have you made other plans?"

"No... No plans," he looked deep into Saga's eyes. "Home is good."

"Billy," the girl held his hand before he could leave. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. Oh, and one more thing."

"What?" he looked back.

"I wouldn't be fine with that... But that doesn't mean I have the right to stop you."

"Goodnight S," he smiled to himself, that was certainly a victory in his book.

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator @spanishmossmagnolia​​@a-ghoulish-tale @seanfalco @captainsheeballs @salvador-daley

[kiarcheo]

It’s All Coming Back to Me Now    7/?

To read on  Ao3 click here 

You can read the previous parts on Tumblr click here

Shortest chapter to date and it's a bit of a filler, but I hope it still works to move the story along and get them back on track. 

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

At the end of the session, the doctor recommends both individual sessions for them to deal with personal issues and ones to attend together to work on their relationship.

Knowing they are getting back on track takes a weight off Kat’s mind. Mental and physical energy coming back to her, her attention soon turns to their musical project and she calls for a meeting.

‘I want you to be honest,’ Kat starts, ‘with me.’ she adds. Maybe they already had a talk with each other. ‘Is the musical something we’re not doing anymore? That’s totally fine,’ not really. She would be incredibly disappointed and sad. But it’s not like she is going to force them. ‘I just want to know.’

‘What?’ she asks after getting nothing but silence...and glances exchanged among the others.

‘Up until yours all the songs had been in good fun.’ Anne starts.

‘I wouldn't call Jane’s song funny.’ Kat points out.

‘Kat, you broke down singing. It’s clearly affecting you. I mean, obviously. But-’

‘We weren’t sure...not that it would be the right thing to do, but that...you’d still want to do it?’ Anna interrupts what was gearing up to be a typical Jane’s rambling.

‘Sharing something so personal and painful with the public.’ Cathy specifies.

‘I do. Still want to do it. And share my story. That’s sort of the point. Take control of the narrative. Telling the truth. My truth. And I want to break the silence, the shame, also for other girls, other people. Because it’s not our fault. And we can speak up. Speak loud. And there will be people believing and supporting us…just like you did with me.’

‘Okay.’

‘Okay?’ Kat looks around. It feels a bit anticlimactic after her spiel, but everyone seems to agree. ‘So we are officially back on track?’

‘Hell yeah!’

‘Anne!’ Jane’s scolding is more out of habit than anything else.

‘Cool. Because I have something for the first song and I would have hated to waste it.’

‘Way to make us feel bad.’ Anne mutters, winking at her cousin who replies sticking out her tongue.

‘Definitely back to normal.’ Catalina rolls her eyes, but a smile betrays her true feelings.

‘This could be the introduction part, the one about what people know, or think they know about us. If you like it, we can try and work out the rest of the song. Like introducing the concept of the musical and all of that. Or we can just scrap it and start from scratch. I won’t be offended, I promise.’

‘Wait. Now? You have it with you?’ Anna asks. Did she somehow miss Kat’s laptop bag?

‘It’s not even two minutes long, so I just have it on my phone.’ Kat shrugs. ‘We can do another time if you prefer. There is no rush.’

‘Now is perfect.’ Cathy smiles at her.

‘Absolutely.’ Catalina nods encouragingly. She had not noticed how much she had missed Kat messing about with her instruments, constantly humming as she creates or just singing around the house along with her latest fixation...Not until she started to fill the house with music again and Catalina had felt like a heavy fog had lifted.

Kat starts, the first two parts going down quite well with the respective queen.

 Jane Seymour the only one he truly loved

‘Rude.’

‘Jinx!’ Anne cries out as she realises she and Catalina said it at the same time.

Kat makes mental note to add it to the song as something they all say, while continuing to sing.

‘I’m not sure I like it.’

Kat is taken aback for a second – that’s not what she expected to hear after she concluded Cathy’s part – before nodding with a small smile. She doesn’t want them to think that they can’t be honest with her because she will take criticisms personally. ‘Like I said, we can change it. What would you like your part to say? Unless you had in mind something completely different and that’s fine too. I don’t have the monopoly on this, you know.’ She hopes they do.

‘No, no, I like my part. Especially the see-more joke.’ That’s totally something Jane herself would say, so she appreciates Kat including it. ‘But…your part…’

Kat looks around and realises that everyone looks slightly uncomfortable. ‘Is it about the prick up your ears part?’

‘No. Although don’t think I didn’t notice you slipping that in.’ Jane sends her a fake glare. It has become a running joke, everyone but her having some kind of ‘swear’ word in their songs. Or their part of the song, in this case.

‘Then what-Oh.’ It dawns on her. Could it be something similar to what they had discussed with Catalina after one of their therapy sessions? How one of the things that made her mum uncomfortable the most in her song was how, up until the Henry part, she almost makes light of what happened to her with innuendos, jokes and upbeat music, seemingly presenting it as something positive and consensual while it was the complete opposite.  

‘That’s what I’m known for, unfortunately.’ Kat gives it a try. From the scowls she gets, she thinks she got it right. ‘But that’s the whole point of the musical, isn’t it? After my song they will know the truth. And that this,’ she picks up her phone, waving it a bit, ‘is not it.’

‘It’s your story. And your choice how you want to tell it.’ Catalina sends a look towards the others that is clearly a warning. ‘And if that makes people uncomfortable...too bad for them.’

There are definitely no objections after that, not that they had any after Kat’s explanation.

‘We got most of the songs figured out...but how is it going to work? I mean, a musical needs a story...or not?’ Jane asks. She is not an expert, but she did ask Kat for suggestions and had a good look at some after they had started planning their own.

‘Does it mean we need to include...him?’

‘Fuck no!’ Nobody reprimands Anne for her language. They all thought the same...pretty much in the same terms.

‘We could just do a concert? With eventual explanations in between?’ Catalina proposes. That would probably not be a musical but still get the job done?

As they contemplate the idea, Anna proposes, ‘What if we make it a competition?’

‘What about?’  Cathy asks, light frown on her brow. She is not ruling it out, but she is not sure what Anna meant with that.

‘Who was the most important?’

‘Not it!’

‘Same!’ Anna raises her hand to high-five Kat.

‘What could we compete about?’ Jane wonders aloud.

‘We don’t have that much in common...except being married to the same asshole who puts us through-’

‘That!’

‘Like who had to deal with more bullshit?’ Anne immediately catches on.  

‘Comparing ourselves?’ Cathy sounds unsure. ‘I really don’t' like the idea to be honest.’

‘It would obviously be fake.’ Kat reassures her.

‘Oh. It could be the message of the show!’

[cynicalrainbows]

So for characterising the queens- I am SO on board with motherly Jane Seymour (obviously) but like.... can you imagine a Jane who is closer to her stage persona? More obviously the second youngest, more volatile and easy to anger? Definitely not a mother figure to anyone- she never got to be a mother to Edward, and if he had to grow up motherless, why should she have much sympathy for full grown adults? They got their lives back, didn’t they? Even Katherine got a longer life than her son did, and a quicker, less painful death. So why (she wonders) is there so much pity for Kitty dying young? Didn’t SHE also die young- and again, in more pain than you’d have from a chop to the head. At least a blade is quick.

I imagine this Jane as not exactly being unkind but as being a lot blunter and less warm than she is generally characterised. This Jane also likes puns and bad Mum jokes- but she’s also more likely to tell you to go fuck yourself if you make any comments about her puns not being funny.

Imagine a less mature Jane- she’s used to being the favourite, so she hasn’t really needed to learn to keep as good a mask on as, say, Anne or Kitty.

So yes, like- a Jane who is not the Mum of the group but who actually carries a lot of hurt and anger...which invites less sympathy but still (as the others remind everyone) does not mean that she is hurting less or that she deserves less love, patience and help than the others. 

Imagine the concept of helping someone deal with trauma when it isn’t expressed through being sweet and shy and quiet, through having nightmares that can be fixed with a mug of tea and a Disney movie but whose trauma means they are snarky, blunt, easily irritated and just generally a bit combative.

Not the nicest Jane at all but....a very interesting one!

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Crucible (part nine)

[UK Tour; Carrie AU]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7  Part 8

Word count: 10,088

TW: Blood and gore

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

-Alma Mater-

  “We found these in the dumpster behind what’s left of the gym.”

Bessie recoiled so sharply in disgust she nearly fell backwards out of her chair when Mulaney dumped several pieces of paper onto the table in front of her. She looked at the pile as if it were made of actual human hearts, wrinkling up her nose.

  “I can’t believe you touched those!” She exclaimed in an almost humorously repulsed way. “They’re probably swimming with diseases.” 

  “Recognize them?” Mulaney asked, sitting across from her.

  “They’re prom ballots,” Bessie said with a dismissive shrug. “I’m the one who Xeroxed them.”

  “According to these, Ruby and Leila won prom king and queen.”

Bessie blinked at Mulaney in shock, as if he had just told her the secrets of the universe. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish caught on a hook, then she sputtered out, “I-I counted those ballots myself. Principal Holbein checked my work! You can ask him...yourself…” She trailed off with a grimace, hunching her shoulders in and looking away. For a moment, she looked a lot younger, and a lot more shaken than she thought she was.

  “Anna and Joan won fair and square.” She finally spoke up again, although there was a not-so-subtle shakiness to her voice. Madeline gave her a sympathetic look.

  “I’m guessing by a landslide?” Mulaney asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “That doesn’t seem odd to you?”

  “I just thought they were pity votes.” Bessie said, shrugging.

  “They weren’t pity votes, Elizabeth.” Mulaney told her grimly. “Someone switched the ballots.”

------

  “Attention! Attention, everyone!” Bessie called jovially from the stage. The mic she was using gave a few abrupt screeches of feedback, so she tapped it with a manicured finger. In the fairy lights, her dress glistened in shimmering waves of purple and made her look like a walking amethyst. “Can I have your attention, please!”

The DJ cut the music off hastily. Everyone inside the gym quieted down one by one and turned their heads to the stage. Bessie’s hair was blindingly white in the light.

  “Thank you,” She said, then raised her voice excitedly, “We will now be voting for this year’s prom king and queen!”

  “This contest insults women!” Margery Horsman shouted from near the globe tree. There were a few scattered applause and one loud, whooping cheer from a girl who must have been her friend.

  “It insults men, too!” Francis Dereham piped up mockingly. Laughter followed, along with several eye rolls.

  “Take your seats, please!” Bessie went on loudly. “Time to vote!”

Everyone began to swarm back to their respective table as Maggie and two other girls started to pass out prom ballots and small pencils. Anna, Joan, George, and Jane were already sitting, recovering from their intense dance session and playing Spoons with a deck of cards George had brought in (“I still cannot believe you brought cards to prom.” “I never leave home without ‘em! You know that, Anna!”). As far as games being played at a school party went, it definitely wasn’t the lamest option they could have gone with.

  “Aha!” Jane exclaimed, seizing one of the three plastic spoons on the table after she got a match of four aces. George looked up at her lovingly. “I have totally figured out this game! I am the new Spoons champion!”

  “Ow!!” Anna yelped. “You SCRATCHED me!” She had been trying to grab one of the other spoons when Jane’s fingernails raked viciously over her hand. She rubbed the scraped skin tenderly, giving Jane a playful pout.

  “This is a very violent game,” Joan observed. When someone got a match of four cards, they were supposed to grab a spoon as quick as they could, prompting everyone else to do the same, which resulted in some mayhem. Especially because there were four players and only three spoons, so clawing and yanking and merciless tug-of-war would sometimes happen as a result. There was even a moment where they all lurched forward at the same time and bonked their heads together.

  “What can I say?” Jane said with a shrug, flicking her spoon back and forth. “I play to win.”

At that moment, Maggie came around with ballots, setting four papers and four pencils on the table for them. Before she whisked away, she declared a louder-than-necessary, “GOOD LUCK!” into Joan’s ear. Joan rubbed her ear uncomfortably as Anna and Jane both glowered after Maggie, then examined the ballot in front of her. Her mouth dropped open.

  “Anna,” She whispered shakily, grabbing onto Anna’s arm tightly. “W-we’re on here!”

  “I saw that,” Anna said.

  “Woah! Congrats!” George beamed.

  “Can we decline?” Joan asked anxiously.

  “Hell no!” Anna said, laughing slightly. “If you win, all you do is sit up there on those thrones for the school song, wave some scepter around, and look like a jackass.” 

  “Oh, and then you get your picture taken for the yearbook so everyone could see that you looked like a jackass.” George added. He, Jane, and Anna laugh lightly. “You also get to lead a dance! So that’s pretty cool.”

  “Well...who do we vote for?” Joan asked Anna. “They’re more your crowd than mine. I don’t really have a crowd.”

  “Ourselves, duh!” Anna said.

  “Isn’t voting for yourself like voting for Ralph Nader?” George asked.

  “Who’s Ralph Nader?”

  “Well, I’m voting for you.” Jane said to Joan. She smiled and checked off Joan and Anna’s names.

  “Thanks,” Joan whispered, ducking her head shyly. She glanced over at the thrones on the stage and couldn’t help but be enamored by them. They were so sparkly and pretty. “They are beautiful…”

  “You’re beautiful.” Anna grinned, taking Joan by surprise. She would never get over the shock of hearing someone say that to her. “To the devil with false modesty.”

Joan smiled. “To the devil,” She said, and checked off her and Anna’s names.

------

  “Look at how she’s smiling. Stupid little cow.”

Cathy peered over the shrouded edge of the catwalk they were hiding on. She could see Joan Seymour, the poor bitch this prank was on, playing cards at one of the tables with Anne’s younger brother, his girlfriend, and Anna von Cleves. Her dress was beautiful, Cathy had to admit, and she looked so happy.

It was such a shame it was all about to be ruined.

The buckets were poised and ready.

  “God, and my stupid brother.” Anne rolled her eyes. “I should have known he would befriend the resident freak.” She shook her head and turned to Cathy, smiling again. “Are you ready? It’s almost time.”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Cathy mumbled, feeling ill.

  “Oh, cheer up.” Anne nudged her. “We’re just playing a little joke! Nobody is getting hurt!”

  “Anne, this is--this is sick. Really, really sick.” Cathy said. “If we get caught--”

  “We aren’t going to get caught.” Anne said firmly. “Calm down, will you? It’s not that bad. We’re just gonna give her a little scare, that’s all.”

Cathy shook her head and cast a dark look at the two metal buckets. She could still smell the contents from her spot, the scent of three-day-old pig blood and guts wafting heavily in the air. It was a miracle nobody else on the stage had smelled it yet.

  “Do you really think they’ll vote for them?” She finally spoke up again, glancing at her girlfriend. In the dim light, only half of Anne’s face could be seen, and there was madness reaching out of that amber eye.

  “Of course,” Anne answered her. “I set it up. Nobody else will even be close.” She smiled wickedly. “Do you want to pull the rope?”

------

Katherine was restless. It was starting to worry her sister, she knew. She kept getting up in the middle of the movie they were watching and would pace around the living room like a lion in a circus cage. She couldn’t help it- something felt off.

  “Kit?” Isabel called. “Is everything alright?”

  “Yeah,” Katherine replied, shaking out her wrists as if they were crawling with caterpillars. “Just a little anxious, that’s all.”

Isabel paused the movie and turned to her completely. “About the prom?” She asked.

  “What else?” Katherine sighed. “I texted Anna and she said everything was going fine, but still… I’m worried about Joan. I hope she’s having a good time.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Isabel said. “You’re letting your Mum Friend status get to you too much.”

Katherine managed to laugh. “Maybe.” 

She took out her phone and checked it for what felt like the tenth time that evening. Just like last time, there were no new messages. Just her reply from Anna after she reacted to the picture that was sent, which was marked as “read.” Anna must have been too busy having a good time to text back, which was good. She was giving Joan her full attention. But what if she wasn’t answering for a different reason…?

  “Ugh--” Katherine collapsed down on the couch next to Isabel, who looked quite amused. “Anxiety SUCKS ASS.”

  “Preach it, sister.” Isabel laughed. She patter her shoulder with a tender smile. “It’s going to be okay, Kat. I’m sure everything is just fine.”

But she was wrong.

------

  “You really make all your own clothes?” George was asking with great interest. After Maggie had come around again and picked up the marked prom ballots, the group decided to take a small break from Spoons to let their maimed hands rest and stop burning. Now, they were just chatting idly, talking about random things as they waited for the score to be tallied up.

  “Yeah, most of them,” Joan answered, nodding.

  “That’s so convenient.”

Joan smiled shyly. “Yeah. Sorry I’m not better at conversations. I don’t have a lot of interesting stories.”

  “No worries!” George said dismissively. “You’re much better company than most of the people here. Some of them don’t know how to keep a secret.” Then, he turned his head and shot an irritated look at a boy in a dark navy blue suit at a navy table. “And SOME OF THEM think very HIGHLY of themselves.”

The boy in navy blue whipped his gaze around and narrowed his eyes at George.

  “I can HEAR you!” He shouted.

  “We all can!” Piped up someone else.

  “I KNOW.” George shouted back. “We’re in a GYM! But I’m having a PRIVATE CONVERSATION, so stick your nose somewhere else!”

  “Then why did you look at me?!” The boy in navy blue cried.

  “Because I was MAKING a POINT to my FRIENDS!” George snapped.

  “You WISH you had friends!”

  “Go suck a LIME!”

  “Now, now,” A teacher chaperone said in a bored voice. “Settle down.”

George turned his head back to the table and smiled. “Anyway,” He said, his voice all sweetness again, “Where were we?”

The other three burst into laughter.

And then, silence was called over the gym. 

  “Attention, everyone!” Bessie said into the mic. “It’s time to announce the elected prom king and queen!”

There was a drumroll as Bessie excitedly pulled out a slip of paper from an envelope. Everyone held their breath in anticipation.

  “ANNA VON CLEVES AND JOAN SEYMOUR!!!”

Anna, who had been mindlessly taking a sip from her cup, not thinking much of the election, spit her drink out in George’s face. Joan froze, her eyes opening wider than possible. All heads turned to her table. Gasps and murmurs whisked through the crowd. The gym went very quiet.

And then, there was a huge, booming, explosive eruption of applause that seemed to shake the walls like thunder. Everyone began to clap and cheer loudly, roaring into one big celebratory mass of noise. One person even yelled, “Yeah, go Anna! Go, Joan!”

Two student body members dressed in (school appropriate) togas, a boy and a girl, walked over to the table, smiling. Anna laughed and stood up with her arms spread in a queenly gesture of sorts, and the crowd went wild, shrieking their support. George, who quickly recovered from being sprayed with mouth soda, was beaming in pride for his friend and Jane looked both a little stunned and absolutely thrilled. Anna nudged Joan’s side and then extended her elbow for them to lock arms, but Joan did not get up. She was far too starstruck to stand at the moment, lost in the whirling of the radiant, overwhelming glee rocketing through her. She had never been clapped for before like this, nor had she ever been so joyful in her entire life.

Prom Queen. Her. Joan Seymour. She was Prom Queen. A queen. Royalty. Important. Her.

It was a dream come true.

Anna gently grabbed Joan by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet, effectively snapping Joan out of her daze. She still remained breathless and dazzled, however, as the entire prom screeched for her when she finally got to her feet. She nearly fainted from joy right then and there, but managed to cling to her consciousness. She grappled onto Anna’s arm, a smile coming to her lips that she knew would not be leaving for a while.

The two of them, escorted by the toga-clad student body duo, began to stride through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea when they passed. The band boomed and swelled into a loud, upbeat melody. The audience continued to applaud and scream and cheer. Any sarcasm was lost to its cacophony; this was honest and deep and genuinely happy for the elected pair. Someone whistled. Someone else patted Joan’s bare shoulder as she passed by. Miss Aragon, at the edge of the trench of students, looked so proud.

Tears were welling up in Joan’s eyes. Her mouth was starting to hurt from smiling so widely. Has she ever smiled for this long before? She doesn’t think so. She hoped she wasn’t hurting Anna, she was hanging onto her arm really tightly. Anna didn’t seem to mind, though. The older girl was practically glowing in the fairy lights, like a goddess of sorts.

They reached the short flight of stairs to the stage, where Bessie and Principal Holbein were waiting. The thrones were pushed up to the front arches of the decorative Parthenon, glistening in the spotlights poised on the apron. They were inlaid with gold and fake jewels and were so much more breathtaking up close.

  “Come on up, you guys!” Bessie shouted over all the noise. She beamed at Joan as Anna helped her up the steps, then turned to shake hands with Principal Holbein. “You look so beautiful! Congratulations!”

Joan couldn’t possibly must up a reply with all these endorphins sprinting through her, so she just smiled even wider, if that were even possible at that point.

She and Anna were whisked over to the thrones (but not without Bessie launching herself into Anna and hugging her very tightly). A silver scepter was thrust into Anna’s hands by the boy student body member in the toga, while the girl swept a furry velvet and sunflower yellow cloak with a puffy collar around Joan’s shoulders. They sat in the thrones and another ear-splitting bout of applause broke out.

Joan was glad to be sitting. Her legs were shaking and her knees felt weak. She was dizzy from shock and bliss and excitement.

(look at me Mama look at me)

(i made it)

(i did it)

The crowns were taken out on big wine red pillows. Both were encrusted with surprisingly realistic looking diamonds and glittered like captured rainbows in the light. Joan nearly sobbed when her tiara was set on her head and she reached up to touch it instantly, just to make sure it was there and real. And it was. The jewels were smooth and bumpy beneath her fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Anna grinning at her affectionately.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Bessie said energetically into the mic, “your king and queen on senior prom! Anna von CLEVES and Joan SEYMOUR!”

The audience howled. Anna laughed. She stood up and thrust her scepter into the air.

  “Long live King Anna!!!” Someone yelled.

  “SPEECH!!!” Someone else, George from back at the table, cried out.

Anna grinned brightly in his direction.

The band cracked and rose into a fever pitch as the school song was played. The audience began to sing along to the music, their hundreds of mixing voices spiraling into a cloud of haunting sound. Anna basked in it, her chest puffed out with pride, then turned and gently gathered Joan to her feet so she could bathe in the glory with her. Joan probably would have crumpled right to the floor if Anna hadn't helped her up.

It was such a dizzying feeling, being the center of so much positive attention when it was usually all so negative. All these people were cheering for her, Joan Seymour. And they didn’t look to be doing it mockingly at all. They liked her. They really, really liked her!

(i told you Mama i told you)

  “Long live Queen Joan!!” Shouted the person from before. 

  “Queen Joan!!!” Someone else whooped gleefully.

Joan was shaking all over. She knew everyone could see that she was, but it wasn’t deterring their applause. They just kept clapping and cheering and singing, even as she quivered like a leaf in a hurricane.

But unbeknownst to her, among the crowd, Maggie Wyatt and Anthony Lee were smirking rather than smiling. Maggie kept glancing up every few seconds, which caught the attention of Jane, who began to sidle over slowly to see what she was looking at.

Bessie waved her arms and all the noise began to diminish. She turned to Anna and Joan, still grinning her head off.

  “Your Highnesses,” She said, “your court requests you lead them in a dance!”

Like that, the cheering started up again.

The toga boy took Anna’s staff from her, but Joan’s cloak was left on. Anna extended a hand and Joan took it as the lights around them faded to soft blue and light purple. They walked slowly down the steps and onto the center of the gym floor, where they pressed against each other and began to dance in long, graceful movements. The band played an airy melody of violins and flutes, which Joan didn’t even realize they had, but she could hardly care. She was too wrapped up in dancing with Anna to care about anything at this point.

Her legs trembled, unsteady, unpracticed, fawn-like. Her head spins and her vision blurs with the opposite of vertigo. Her hands clasp tightly at Anna’s and her shoulder, like the older girl was an island out in a raging black ocean. Moats of silver dust float like moths in the rays of light beaming from the spotlight, and she had never been more awash in radiance. 

Anna’s hand is warm on her waist and she looked up at her, dry lips parting with a slight pop. Anna tilted her head at her and smiled, the corners of her mouth held aloft by the spotlights. Her fingertips trail over Joan’s veins, bluer than hers, rivers snaking beneath her skin and crisscrossing the imperfect planet of her body. 

But Anna doesn’t care.

Each sweeping step they take gave Joan more confidence and made the world come a little more into focus. This was all Joan has ever wanted- being held so gently, being loved despite her flaws, being wanted and needed and swayed like she is. Anna doesn’t care that she’s touching her, Anna doesn’t care about the roughness of her scarred palms, Anna doesn’t care that she wasn’t at prom with her girlfriend.

Anna cared about her and her alone. Nothing else in the entire universe mattered to her. And that was a dream come true.

Anna coaxed her closer in that honeyed voice of hers that makes Joan feel all fluttery inside, whispered that she wanted to show off to all these loons, and Joan does as she's told, tentatively placing one foot in front of the other, searching for stable ground as they whisked in loops inside the circle of students crowded around them. 

  “Anna?” Joan whispered.

  “Yeah?” Anna looked down at her, still smiling with so much affection for her.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anything for you, Joan.”

Joan was still shaky but that’s okay. If she fell, Anna would surely catch her.

There was a blooming warmth on Joan’s hand and she looked at it, and that’s when everything fell to pieces. Shafts of burgeoning gold cut through soft silver and burst outwards, filling the gym in blinding yellow waves. Violin and flutes were replaced with a marching drumbeat. Silence turned to an uproar of cheering and clapping. The dance floor melted away and the stage rose up beneath Joan’s feet. And there was Bessie and the band and the two student body members in togas and Anna, now up there with her again. And there was blood. On her hand.

  “Your Highnesses,” Bessie said, “your court requests you lead them in a dance!”

Joan does not hear her. She can’t even move. 

Red. Blood. On her fingers. Blood.

Her blood?

Was it happening again?

Anna looked at her in confusion, eyebrows furrowed together. 

  “Joan?” She whispered. “Everything okay?”

Joan does not reply.

Like how Anna does not see the blood.

It was the size of a nickel American tourists would sometimes accidentally drop on the streets. Bright red against her pale white skin, like a ruby buried in fresh snow. Completely odorless in such a small quantity.

Blood.

Where did it come from?

Joan looked up shakily and time seemed to slow down so she, and everyone else in the gym, could watch as two buckets full of blood poured out in an unhurried manner to fall, splash, splash, splash, right over Joan’s head.

------

  “Hail, Alma Mater,”

The singing of the crowd mixed with the band and all the cheering was a mess of noise in Anne’s ears. She grit her teeth in rage and glared down at the thrones, where the pig herself, Joan Seymour, was being crowned Prom Queen. With her tiara.

  “Why are they still clapping?” Anne hissed.

  “I don’t know, babe.” Cathy said uselessly. “Don’t ask me.”

Anne growled lowly in her throat and gripped the rope in her hands tightly. The smell of the blood wafting from the buckets was intoxicating.

  “Oh, Mother, we salute you,”

  “Are you going to pull it?” Cathy asked. “They’re there. The song is playing. Get it over with already.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” Anne snapped.

  “We proclaim out devotion,”

Anne’s hands were starting to shake. Her chest burned as she held her breath. 

  “I’m not pulling it for you.” Cathy said. “That thing can sit up there ‘till hell freezes over.”

Anne elbowed her hard in the stomach and her girlfriend reeled backwards in pain.

  “As we set our dreams into motion!”

  “Your Highnesses,” Bessie said from below after the school anthem ended, “your court requests you lead them in a dance!”

Anne leaned forward and yanked the cord with both hands.

For a moment, there was slack, making her think Cathy fucked up the set up to get back at her, that the rope was attached to nothing but thin air, that Joan fucking Seymour was actually going to get away clean.

But then, it snagged and jerked away from her grasp, leaving a thin rope burn across her palms. The buckets tipped and glorious red fell free. She peeked over the edge to watch, then turned to Cathy, smirking widely in victory.

In the darkness, Cathy looked horrified.

And in the light of the stage, someone screamed.

------

Two weeks after the Black Prom, Elizabeth “Bessie” Blount, would write this for the detectives,

          “I had been looking at the crowd when the buckets came, but I turned fast enough to see a majority of it. It got EVERYWHERE. Joan got the most of it. She looked like she had just been dragged out of a river of blood. There were barely any spots of pink left on her dress. But us onstage got some of it, too. Anna was wearing a white tux. She got splattered. She looked like she was in a murder scene. I got splattered, too. My dress and my chest and my face. And for a moment, when my mind flashed back to the showers on Friday, I wondered if this was period blood. It was clearly a prank of sorts, so did whoever planned this (which I now know was Anne), get a bunch of girls to squat over some buckets and bleed into them just to dump it out on this one chick?

          But then I realized that it didn’t smell like period blood. 

          I don’t think any of you or anyone else who wasn’t there really understand the smell. It wasn’t just an awful sight--it smelled, too. Like--like...it’s so hard to explain. It smelled like blood, but blood that has been left out in the sun for a week. Like rotten meat. Have you ever smelled rotten meat? It was like that.

          And it also wasn’t just blood. There were organs and pieces of organs, too. I don’t even know what it was, but there was a strip of /something/ on my face. But Joan was covered in guts. Intestines hanging from her shoulders, mushy livers and kidneys caught against her dress, a stomach snagged on her crown. There were even testicles. One missed her, but the other hit her in her head and then bounced off.

          Joan was still for a very long time. She had been looking up, so her face was dripping and her eyes were closed. Then, she opened them and things all went to hell from there.

          I look back on this a lot. I know it wasn’t that long ago, but it’s always so fresh in my mind. I got my period two days ago and I /cried/ when I saw the blood. Because I wonder, if I had been a little bit nicer, would it have never happened? I know that’s wishful thinking, but I still wonder about it all the time. I do that a lot, now. I just think about what happened. And it gets worse each time.

          I wish about a lot, but I never wish to stop the Black Prom. I just wish I had died in there with everyone else. I could kill myself, but it wouldn’t be the same, you know? I was left alive for a reason, I think. It’s a punishment. Unless Joan thought I was innocent enough to let go. But I don’t think so. So now I have to live with what I did and what happened because of it. 

          I would like to see Anna again, though. I wish I got to say goodbye to her.”

------

She was covered in it.

Blood.

Whose blood?

(my blood)

The smell was overwhelming. Like rotten meat left out in the summer heat for several months. The taste was worse. She didn’t want to describe it. This blood did not have the same metallic tang of normal blood. There was something very, very wrong with it.

The blood was thick, half a liquid, half a solid. It was coagulated and clotted, thick chunks caught in her hair and eyelashes and dress. It drooled down her chest, between her breasts, and over the flat expanse of her stomach. 

Everywhere. It was everywhere.

In her ears and her nose and her eyes and her mouth. 

Blood.

Something else splattered down against her, too. It made a loud slapping sound when it hit her head and made her tiara crooked when it snagged on the points. Something long and squishy draped over her shoulder while something else went down the back of her dress and fell out the bottom with a wet /plop/. They all had a very rank, ripe scent.

Joan’s eyes were closed. She had been looking up, so her face was completely drenched. Her dress was ruined, dyed to a deep scarlet instead of a pale flamingo pink. Her hair was soaked and dripping and red, retaining no hints of the original platinum white-blonde. The cloak around her neck looked like a freshly gutted dog, and it fell heavily to the ground at her feet. Rivulets of red ran down her arms, oozing off her fingers and into the crimson lake all around her.

One by one, the clapping stopped, the cheering died off, and the smiles fell until the only sound was the creak of the two ropes the buckets were attached to and the splattering of blood on the floor. Nobody moved, nobody breathed, nobody spoke a word.

And then, Joan’s eyes opened.

Something was glowing behind those twin orbs of grey-blue.

Joan slowly raised her hands and stared at them, watching tiny rivers of blood snake down the palms. Her breathing picked up slowly, faster and faster and faster, until her body was heaving with the weight of her panting. Her eyes darted around- at Anna, spattered in red beside her; at Bessie, wide-eyed and bloody; at George and Jane, horrified; at Miss Aragon, with her mouth hanging open; at Principal Holbein, shocked into stillness; at the audience, silent. She looked down and saw the blood, then the guts.

She was covered in guts.

Intestines hung from her shoulders, several pieces of pruney and wrinkled pink tissue clung to her dress, a stomach was caught on her crown.

Guts.

Someone spilled guts on her.

Blood and guts.

Something itched in Joan’s throat, and when she opened her mouth, a whimper came out.

And then a cry.

And then a scream.

She screamed a horrible, nightmare-haunting scream that reverberated throughout the auditorium and jammed itself into the ears of the audience. It cut off after a moment and she stared at her hands again in horror, hoping they would be clean, but the red still remained. She tried to scrub at her arms, but the blood only smeared and coated her skin even further. She whimpered and keened loudly, scratching and clawing desperately. Someone in the audience snorted.

  “WHAT THE HELL?” Anna roared in fury. She was the first to snap out of the terror-stricken trance, and now all she felt was outrage. “WHO DID THIS?”

No answer. Someone snorted again. A few people murmured. Heads whipped around frantically.

  “WHO DID THIS?!” Anna screeched again. She looked around and spotted something in the wings- Anne and Cathy. She snarled lowly, like a dog about to bite, then took off after them when they fled.

Like that, with Anna’s jarring sprint into motion, the trance that had descended over the gym was broken. People began to exclaim in shock and whisper to one another. A few took out their phones to take pictures. Maggie Wyatt and Anthony Lee snorted and then burst into howls of laughter.

And people joined in.

They were laughing at her.

(Mama was right)

Joan felt her body start to seize. She went hot and then cold and then hot again until she was freezing. Her heartbeat hammered in her chest, racing faster and faster and faster until she thought it would burst apart. 

  “Pig, pig, pig, pig!” Anthony bellowed through bouts of laughter. “Sweet pig, pig, pig!”

(Mama was right they’re laughing)

(they always laugh)

  “Freak! Freak!!” Maggie shrieked in giggles.

Everything was starting to bleed together. A blur of black and silver marched through the crowd below; Jane Parker slapped Anthony hard across the face.

Joan gasped.

Miss Aragon and Principal Holbein rush up to the stage, along with George Boleyn and Jane Parker. The whispers are swelling into a full thunderstorm of murmurs, but she can’t make them out. Her ears were too clogged with blood to really hear.

  “Joan?” Jane called out, and her voice was but a distant echo. “Joan, can you hear me?” She waved a hand in front of her face.

Miss Aragon gently touched Joan’s shoulder, brushed away the tangle of intestines caught against it. Her nose was twitching; she could smell the overwhelming stench of the rancid blood and guts, too.

  “Joan? Joan, sweetie, talk to me. It’s Miss Aragon.” The coach said.

But Joan does not awaken from the strange state she’s slipped into.

The adrenaline is making the strain on her body bearable, all the beautiful chemicals coursing through her veins as she flexed her powers.

That, and the anger.

It all made her so angry. Her mother. Her treatment at school. Her life. Who she was.

Fifteen long years of being the good Christian girl. Of turning the other cheek. Of enduring and bearing. Of being patient and understanding and letting things go, always letting things go.

It gets old. So fucking old.

She was tired of it.

The pillars of the Parthenon began to quake. The decorative spires and sculptures on the gym floor soon followed. Joan sent her powers through their mass and ripped them into chunks. The pieces locked together in the air like a growing puzzle until a long body was created. Wings from the ripped mural canvases, a tail of ice and marble, curved claws chipped from stone, sharp spikes torn out of chair legs, and a piece of the fire alarm and DJ booth attached to the back of the throat. 

Everyone stepped away and stared in horror as the dragon thumped to the ground on its back haunches and let out an ear-piercing roar. 

  “Say. Hello.” It spoke in a gargled voice. “Everybody. Say. Hello.”

And then, a pipe from up above was ripped free and sailed straight into Maria de Salinas’s heart.

--

August had thought they had been scared when the buckets dropped, but not even that fear could rival the absolute terror pumping through them as they stared at the bleeding corpse just a few feet away. Several people were starting to run, but they couldn’t move. It wouldn’t matter anyway; all the doors were locked. They could hear students shouting over it in a panic all around them, through the screaming.

They looked up at Joan Seymour’s bloody form and realization dawned on them with a jarring shock.

She’s going to kill us all.

The pipe pulled loose from Maria’s heart with a spurt of blood. Joan peered at it curiously, as if it were a new pet. A moment later, it flew around and jammed itself through the spot that connected the second victim’s jaw to her neck. It went all the way through and left her nearly decapitated, spasming wildly on the ground before death overcame her and she stilled. Then, the pipe spun and sailed straight through a boy’s stomach. 

By this point, full pandemonium had erupted throughout the entire theater. Everyone was running around screaming, panicking, crying. They’re trampling over each other like caged cattle—and they very well may have been, because they were all going to burn like the filthy cows they all were.

This is our punishment, August realized. For bullying her. We did this.

They looked up with tears in their eyes. The head of the conjured dragon turned to them slowly and creaked open its jaw.

  “Repent, repent, repent, repent.” It said, and then smashed its talons over August’s head.

--

Nicola couldn’t even scream when August was crushed right before her eyes. Their body crumpled like a compressed can; she could hear their bones snap and break beneath the heavy weight of the strange monster’s talons. When the claws were raised, there was a huge splattering of blood and mushed organs, which oozed slowly off stone nails in droplets of liquid ruby and rose quartz.

August was dead.

Joan was not done killing yet.

Nicola dove behind an upturned table and tried to steady her ragged breathing. She yelped when someone collapsed down in front of her.

  “Ari!” She cried.

Ari, shell shocked, but uninjured, scrambled beside her, ducking low for cover. Their eyes were wide and mortified.

  “What--what the fuck is going on?” They whispered. Each word sounded like it took great effort to speak through heaving breaths. “What--is--happening?!”

  “I-I don’t know!” Nicola replied.

Near the buffet temples, the flying pipe stabbed through a girl’s neck. Nicola shuddered and hugged her knees.

  “She’s killing us,” She whispered. “She’s killing us all.”

  “Oh god,” Ari muttered in horror. They pressed a hand to their forehead. “You know what, Nicola? I-I don’t want to die!” They laughed shakily, tears brimming in their eyes.

  “Shh. You’re not allowed to die.” Nicola said, and Ari managed a tight smile.

And then, the pipe flew by and put itself directly between Ari’s eyes.

The table tipped backward, along with Ari’s body. The pipe pulled out with a squelch and squirt of blood, leaving a gaping hole all the way through Ari’s head. Nicola vomited, she couldn’t help it.

  “Monster,” She whispered raggedly She glared at the stage through tears. “You’re a monster!” 

Joan twitched, but didn’t look at her. Nicola braced herself and prepared for the pipe to come around and take her life, but it didn’t. It was currently embedded in the stomachs of two students at once. No, instead, her executioner was a snake that rose up from one of the candles.

Nicola’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the flaming serpent coil out from the candle. It was huge, with bright golden eyes and a tongue that spewed embers when it flicked out at her. Then, it opened its wide jaws and came at her faster than lightning.

Pain. Blinding pain. Blinding, unbearable pain.

She was on fire.

Her dress exploded into golden plumes almost instantly, with her hair following shortly after. She could feel the fabric of her gown fusing with her flesh as it dripped off her body like wax. She screamed and flailed helplessly, but it did nothing to help her. The serpent consumed her.

--

A thick shoulder smashed Violet into a rigid back. Boots stamped down on one of her feet. She heard a screech of pain that sounded like someone from her Economics class. She caught a glimpse of Principal Holbein trying desperately to calm everyone down. Someone grabbed her forearm, and she turned to see Lara, staring at a raging snake made of fire.

  “Oh god,” She whispered. “What do we do?”

  “I-I don’t know!” Violet said. “We can’t escape. The doors are locked!”

  “There has to be another way!” Lara cried. “D-don’t say that! There has to be!”

Nearby, a kid burst into flames when the snake coiled around him. The dragon jumped into the fray, shaking the entire gym when it leapt to the ground. It lashed its huge tail, connecting with a large panicking group of students and sending them sprawling with an awful symphony of breaking bones and splitting skin. It trampled over kids as it made its way to the tree and climbed to the top.

  “Respect me. Respect me. Respect me.” It said over and over again, flaring out its wings. Its mouth did not move when it spoke, rather just hung open like a snake spraying venom.

Violet and Lara backed away, getting pushed and shoved and nearly separated in the process. They clasped their hands together and watched as fire began to spread through the ripped murals against the wall.

This place was going to burn to the ground.

  “JOAN!!”

The pipe, which had taken lodging in the back of a blonde girl’s skull, flashed through the air and cleaved into its next victim’s stomach, silencing them.

Lara gasped and buried her face in her talons.

  “Oh no,” Violet whispered. “Oh no, no, no…!”

--

Anna coughed and was startled to taste blood. She touched her lips and her fingers came back red. Then, slowly, her hands slid down to her stomach, where an even bigger patch of red was spreading across her tux. 

There was a pipe in her stomach.

Her vision blurred and she collapsed to her side, gargling on her blood.

  “Anna!!”

Joan was there, even bloodier than her, grey-blue eyes wide. Her hands hovered around the pipe, then pulled it out, sending sharp bolts of pain through Anna’s entire being.

  “Anna, Anna, no--” Joan stammered. Tears flooded down her face. “Anna, no--”

  “J-Joan--” Anna coughed. She raised a bloody hand and Joan clasped it in her own. 

  “Anna, I’m so sorry!” Joan said. “I-I didn’t mean to…” She glanced at the gaping red horror in Anna’s stomach. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “I know,” Anna said. “I-I know you...you didn’t…” Everything was starting to blur together.

  “No, Anna, don’t die!” Joan begged. “Don’t die! You can’t die!”

  “Think...think I still have a shot at being a singer?” Anna choked out a laugh that was thick with blood.

Joan sniffled and nodded tearfully. “Y-yeah, of course.” She said. “Y-you’d be the best!”

Anna smiled weakly up at her. Her brain felt very fuzzy all of a sudden. The pain was getting worse.

No. No. She cannot die, not now, not after all she’s done. Surely she won’t—the wound is likely not nearly as terrible as it felt, or this is some nightmare and she’ll wake up any moment, and there will be no more blood and George and Jane and Joan will be teasing her for falling asleep at prom and then they’ll go to the Blazer.

She doesn’t wake up.

And now she can’t breathe--her chest heaved and she gasped and coughed, and suddenly her throat felt very hot and full and it’s terribly uncomfortable. 

She doesn’t want to die. But it hurt too much.

  “Joan--” She rasped. “I-I can’t--”

  “No.” Joan said through gritted teeth. Then, she softly pushed Anna’s head up to look at her. The spotlights glowed around her and made her look like a blood soaked angel. “You‘re not dying today. Not here.” She sniffled. “Not in my arms, Anna.”

Anna frowned and parted her lips, gasping for air so loud Joan’s own air almost got pulled out of her lungs. 

  “Please.” She begged quietly. “You have to--”

The rest of the words didn't come out, but Joan’s face paled and she understood.

  “No, Anna,” She whispered. “No. Not after I--”

  “I-it hurts, Joan.” Anna said. 

  “I-I can fix you!” Joan said, shaking her head. Blood from her hair splatter everywhere. “I-I can sew your wound! I-it’s gonna be okay!”

Anna shook her head sluggishly. “Joan,” She whispered firmly. “You can’t. You know that.” She lifted a quaking hand and wiped away one of Joan’s tears, smearing the blood already on her face. “Don’t--don’t be--sad.” 

  “W-we were supposed to w-watch that movie together,” Joan whimpered. “And have a party. You can’t die, Anna.”

  “I’m sorry,” Anna breathed out. Then, quietly, she said, “I love you.”

  “I love you.” Joan said back

Anna’s face lit up, regardless of the pain. “You’re incredible,” She said.

Joan cried harder. 

  “Don’t let--don't let this--w-world tell you--otherwise, mh?” She said. “Don’t let it--it ruin--you.”

  “Anna, please.” Joan sobbed. “Please, please don't go. I-I need you. You--you brought me back to life.”

  “And I’d do that again--and again..and again--”

Anna was delirious. She caressed Joan’s cheeks with her thumbs, and Joan leaned her forehead against hers. Joan let the silence between them fill the void she started feeling inside of her for a few seconds, but her sobs soon came back, filling the stage’s space. All around them in the gym, the panic of students and teacher chaperones was unified into stillness. They were all watching transfixed in shock and despair. 

  “Thank you,” Anna whispered.

  “F-for what?” Joan asked.

Anna smiled. “For giving me the best night of my life.”

Anna’s neck snapped. Joan knew where to send her powers into her spinal cord to make her stop crying. Hurting. 

To make it all stop.

If someone had asked her to do this, she would’ve killed herself. She would kill herself for Anna a thousand times. Over and over. She would let anyone torture her, use her, hurt her, however whenever wherever they would like to. But Anna asking her to end her suffering… She could not bear this. She could not bear her pain...not this one. 

Not like this.  

The one person who ever truly cared about her. The one person who genuinely wanted to be around her… She killed her.

Joan let out a long, keening whimper and began to rock back and forth, cradling Anna’s upper body against her chest. 

If they only could’ve had more time. If they only could’ve had some more time to spend together, some more time to share, some more time to be friends. In such a short period of time, Anna had turned into the big sister she never knew she wanted or ever had. She wanted to be next to Anna forever and always. She wanted to be with her and her friends and even Katherine.

But it didn’t matter now. Anna was dead. And no amount of power was going to bring her back.

Joan cried for several long moments, clutching Anna’s corpse. Fresh blood mingled with the blood coating her entire being. Warmth was slowly draining out of Anna’s body.

And then, something itched in her throat and, holding Anna closer, she tipped her head back.

The thing that overcame the silence was just a noise, one that had been boiling up in Joan’s chest for hours; long before she had gotten blood dumped over her head, or walked into prom, or even got invited to prom at all.

Joan didn’t yell a whole lot, never had. She’d always had the tendency to quietly brood when her temper ran high or her spirits low, something that had helped facilitate her transformation over the years of torment and torture. So in reality, the noise that was escaping her right now was one she’d been holding back for a very long time.

It sounded stupid. But it felt good.

So she kept doing it. Screaming. Over and over again until it just turned into one long roar of agony and fury and anguish.

Intimidating or not, effective or not, when a sound was being uttered over and over by a teenage girl who’s been living the closest thing to Hell that could exist on God’s green earth, a teenage girl covered in blood with wild eyes, a mangy body, and a lifetime worth of pain...

It was a goddamn battle-cry.

Joan gently placed her flower crown on Anna’s chest, situating her limp hands to where they were holding on it, then stood very, very slowly as if she were underwater, or her muscles were buckled into place. Her movements weren’t right- they were too twitchy and abrupt like a robot with rusted limbs. And her eyes—god, her eyes… They were wider than humanly possible.

She stood, dripping with blood, tears still streaming down her cheeks, and stared out at the audience. 

(i’m going to kill you all)

Someone should tell the Devil she was going to room with him because she was about to turn this place into a living Hell.

Grace period ended with the striking of the flaming snake. A poor boy in a dark purple tux burst into flames, and screaming erupted all around him once again. 

  “Oh fuck! Oh god!”

  “We’re all going to die!”

  “Open the door!”

  “Somebody call 999!!”

  “HELP!!!!”

Madness. It was pure madness.

(nobody will EVER laugh at me again)

She imagined storming into the school and screaming her head off at the inconsiderate teachers, the rude students. She’s a smart kid, dammit! She’s been in school as long as everyone else, and she’s very good at it. No more questioning her, no more arguing or trying to make her look foolish, no more bullying. 

And then, it happened. Within the space of the gym, it happened. Absolute mayhem.

She imagined setting fire to the entire school, not caring about how much money it would cost to fix it. Just to hear the crackles of flames, just to watch the people scramble, just to be the chaos instead of the shield against it.

Roaring flames tore along the walls of the gym, thanks to Judgement. Her dragon at the top of the tree helped by fanning the fire with its giant wings, throwing embers all throughout the room. Students squealed when they were burned, music to Joan’s ears. Someone crumpled to the ground, charred as black as night. Someone else with their tux on fire was screaming for help. Several burned corpses lay half in, half out of the firestorm, so melted and disfigured that their gender could barely be made out.

She imagined stalking into her classes, kicking the door open like she would sometimes try to do with the prayer closet. She would watch class jump in surprise and fear, not just staring at her like she’s her mother’s trained puppy. 

Her fingers clenched and someone’s head popped like a balloon, splattering bits of brain and bone all over the faces of the people around them. They all shrieked in horror. Someone else yelled in a higher register, and Joan realized it was some guy coming at her with a knife he must have snuck into the party. She couldn’t touch it, but she could feel her power surging through her fingers and she leaned into it, snatching the knife right out of the boy’s hands and making it cut murderously across his throat like the widest, most bloody smile in the world.

She imagined punching Anne in the face, hearing the crack of her nose. Better than any of the bullshit Christian music her mother makes her listen to.

And then, relishing it, she imagined dunking her into water until she couldn’t breathe, she imagined stealing Bessie’s clothes and leaving her stranded naked in a bathroom stall for hours, she imagined tripping Maria in the hallway and having her break her jaw on the way down, she imagined putting a snake in Maggie’s shoe and watching her howl and foam at the mouth when it pumped her full of venom.

Who’s the boss now? Who’s the tough one, who doesn’t take shit, who doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want, ever?

She imagined growling into all of their ears as she tore into all of them and didn’t care how much of a devil it made her.

How do you like me now?

Being strong, and bold, and standing up, taking what she wants when she wants it, for the first time in her goddamn life. Because, before this, she would have never done any of that stuff she imagines.

She never did that.

She never defended herself or stood up for herself or fought back.

She only endured and endured and endured like a good little girl, like Mama wanted, like how Mama made her.

It's what's best for her. What's best for everyone.

But not anymore.

Never again.

Joan reached out her powers and found Maggie among the panic.

(never again Maggie never again)

(you will never hurt anyone else ever again)

She coiled her powers around Maggie’s shoulders and clenched down. When the grasp was tight enough, she began telekinetically pulling away from Maggie’s body. Instantly, Maggie was alerted that something was very wrong when her arms raised outwards against her will. She fought against Joan’s power, but was much too weak, and began to scream loudly at the strain on her flesh.

  “Maggie!” Anthony yelled in shock. “What’s wr--”

Joan halted his sentence. She didn’t want him speaking anymore. 

She found his organs after a quick moment of searching and vacuumed them upwards. Anthony gagged loudly and clutched at his stomach. His throat bulged like an anaconda was trying to slither out of his body, and then his guts came pouring out of his mouth. 

Everyone shrieked much louder than they were before, or at least those not completely panicking. Anthony’s stomach splattered to the ground first, then his kidneys and liver, large intestines, and then his small intestines, which didn’t make it all the way out and dangled from his mouth like a half eaten snake. He collapsed into the pool of his own insides, empty and very much dead.

  “Anthony!!” Maggie shrieked, tears pouring out of her eyes. A moment later, her arms ripped off of her body and began spewing blood everywhere. Delicate bones poked out like stars on a dark night from the fresh openings against her shoulders. She would bleed to death quickly, and Joan left her to die on the floor, hoping it would be painful.

She looked around, noting how many people were still left alive. She watched Judgement corral three students, one of which fainted from terror. He set them all on fire and then whisked off for new prey. The girl who fainted woke up screaming, but the screams didn’t last very long.

Where was Anne?

(she ran)

(coward coward coward)

She had to go after Anne.

Joan got into the sprinklers overhead and activated them. The spray of water felt amazing over her tingling skin. The blood, mostly dried, began to run in red trails, but she knew it would do little to really clean her the way she wanted it to.

(i’m coming Anne)

But first, she had to finish what she started.

--

Violet took one step too close to the white tree where the watching dragon was perched. Having spotted her, the dragon roared a challenge, extending its wings in a brilliant display of dominance.

The roar it made was earth shattering.

Violet was still recovering from the roar when the dragon jumped down and its spiked forearm slammed into her chest, catapulting her backwards. It went after her, crushing several students into nothing beneath its talons, then pierced her with its tail, leaving her dangling several feet from the ground. Rich, ruby red blood drizzled from the razor sharp point.

She felt faint, the pain radiating through her like a dull ache as the dragon slowly brought her around, its beady white glass eyes fixed on her. She tried to wriggle free, but the sharp edge of the tail tearing into her unresisting flesh caused her to slide further down the blood-streaked appendage. The tail grated through her organs, cutting clean through them. She coughed blood and moaned weakly. Everything was starting to spin.

  “Violet!!” Lara cried from down below.

Violet coughed blood again. The dragon lashed its tail and sent her flying free. She hit the floor roughly, hearing several bones snap, and then went very still. The last thing she ever heard was the sound of Lara’s skeleton being crushed in the jaws of the dragon.

--

Aragon was rarely ever scared, but the mayhem that had erupted throughout the gym nearly had her paralyzed with fear. For a moment, as she watched the destruction break out, she felt as though she couldn’t breathe, especially when she saw Anthony Lee spill his guts from his mouth, but when the sprinklers kicked on overhead, she put her head back on her shoulders.

She had to get out.

Amid the chaos, she saw a flash of white and purple- Bessie. She hurried over to the bleach-haired student, who was in the middle of a pretty bad panic attack, and grabbed her by the shoulders.

  “Bessie! Bessie? Bessie, listen to me!” She shook her shoulders. “Come with me, alright?”

Bessie, unable to muster up any comprehensible reply, nodded. Aragon took her hand and began guiding her to a set of side doors that weren’t as blocked off as the rest of the exits. However, they were just as jammed as all the others.

  “Fuck!” Aragon hissed, yanking on the handle.

  “Wh-what do we do, Miss Aragon?!” Bessie whimpered, shivering.

Aragon looked around desperately, then located a vent up near the ceiling nearby.

  “Get a chair!”

Bessie obeyed and grabbed the closest, most stable chair she could find. Aragon stood on it and ripped off the vent cover, then hopped back down. She had to let her kids go first.

  “Go!” She shouted over the pandemonium. “Hurry! Get in!”

Bessie didn’t hesitate. She kicked off her heels and stood up on the chair, scrambling into the vent as quick as she could. Several other students who were smart enough to come over followed her in. By the time it was her turn to climb in, the sprinklers had cut off and the ground was covered in a layer of water.

Joan stepped off of the stage slowly. With every step she took, the water around her spread away so she would be walking on dry ground. Above her, the electrical equipment holding up the spotlights crackled, and Aragon realized what was about to happen.

  “EVERYBODY, GET OFF THE FLOOR!!!” She screamed.

Aragon leapt up onto the chair and flung her arms inside the vent. As she was pulling herself up, the chair flipped and she was left dangling above the ground. And, at the same time, the electrical equipment exploded into sparks and fell to the floor.

It was horrifying. Absolutely horrifying. She watched her students spasm as they were electrocuted and then drop to the ground like birds with broken wings. Hundreds must have died, and she would soon join them. Any second now, her arms would give out and she’d plummet into the electrically charged water, joining the kids as a corpse inside the gym.

Her life began to flash before her eyes, surely thinking she was about to die. But then, a strange, unseen force began to lift her up and tuck her gently into the vent. When she turned her head, she saw Joan looking at her with shining eyes.

[elin-moon]

Part 3: Jane Seymour

How are you today? Me? I’m okay. This took me longer because, not only was I out of ideas and not sure which queen should come next, but I also have a lot of work from school (online school sucks). Sorry this took so long.

Cat and Anne didn’t talk to each other, seeming to through each other glares as they walked back to Cat’s house. It made Cathy feel awkward and she just wished the two would drop it at least until they found the others. Luckily, the younger girls didn’t seem to notice this, as they talked about whatever little girls talked about in this century. 

Once they reached the house, Cat started preparing tea and Anne used a machine to make something that looked like tea but was obviously not. 

“What’s that?” Cathy asked, looking from the living room which was attached to the kitchen. 

“It’s coffea. It’s really good to get your energy up.” she said, filling a mug with the brown liquid. “I don’t really like tea, no offence Catherine.” Anne said, looking at Cat, before taking a sip of her drink and coming into the living room, sitting next to Cathy. Cat soon came as well with two cups of tea, giving one to Cathy. She sat down next to Cathy, leaving Cathy between the other two queens. 

“So, how do you plan on finding the others?” Cat asked, looking at Cathy. 

“Honestly, i don’t know. Up until now, it’s just been good luck.” Cathy said, looking into her cup. “I didn’t really plan for it to be this easy.” 

“Maybe we just need to continue playing it lucky.” Anne said with a smile on her face. 

“We need a plan, Anne. We can’t just wait around until they all show up!” Cat said, getting up from her seat and placing her tea cup down. 

“Catherine, I was just joking-” Anne started before she was interrupted by Cathy. 

“You know what? We’ll figure it out tomorrow. For now, I think we should all just go home and rest.” Cathy said, getting up and placing her unfinished tea cup in the kitchen. Anne opened her mouth to say something, but quickly stopped. Cathy picked up Mae, who was playing on the carpet by herself, and walked to the door. “See you tomorrow! Goodbye!” she said, before leaving the house completely.

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

Once Cathy got home, she put her tired daughter to bed. 

“We’ve had a long day today, haven’t we?” she said, placing Mae in her bed. “I hope you had fun.” she said as Mae’s eyes slowly closed and she fell asleep. Once Mae was asleep, Cathy walked into her bedroom and picked up her pen and paper. She wanted to write, but couldn’t concentrate. The events of today kept going through her head as she thought how to find the other queens. Up until now it had just been good luck. It was luck that she had run into Cat, it was luck that Mary befriended Elly, it was luck that Anne even happened to be at the playground at the very same time. It was all just pure luck. 

A few hours later, Cathy was still trying to write when she heard a cry. She ran to Mae bedroom but found that it wasn’t Mae crying. Mae was sleeping peacefully. Then she realized it was the neighbour’s baby. About a week or two ago, a lady and her baby moved in the apartment next to her. The lady’s baby was way noisier than Mae, so Cathy oten found herself being woken up by crying. Of course, she never got mad at the lady, she couldn’t control when her baby started crying. So, Cathy went back to her room and picked up her pen again. But then, a few minutes later, she heard a knock on the front door. Cathy slowly walked to the door, all the sudden feeling very tired. On the other side was a woman with long blonde hair and grey blue eyes. The lady next door. 

“Excuse me, I don't mean to bother you, but I heard you had a baby and I wanted to ask if you had any more diapers I could borrow.” she said, fidgeting with her hands. “I’ve run out.” she added. 

“Oh sure, you can come in and take some, if you want.” Cathy said, opening the front door entirely and letting the lady walk in. The lady walked in, looking uncomfortable. It’s not everyday a stranger just lets you into their house. “They’re in my daughter’s room. Please be quiet, she’s sleeping.” Cathy said, pointing the lady to Mae’s room. 

“Thank you.” the lady whispered as she walked quickly to Mae’s room. When she came out, holding a few diapers, she seemed to have a little smile on her face. “Your daughter is so cute.” she said. “She looks kind of like you.” she also added. 

“Do you need any more help? Cause i can-” Cathy tried to say before the lady interrupted her. 

“Oh no, I don't want to bother you anymore than I already have! Besides, i have to get back to my son.” she said, walking through the doorway. “But i would like to see you again someday. Maybe your daughter and my Edward could have a little playdate!” she added, walking with excitement. 

“Yeah, maybe. I think Mae would like a playmate.” Cathy said, already thinking about it. The other lady gave a small laugh before walking off. 

“Have a good night!” the lady said. 

“You too!” Cathy said in response. As soon as Cathy closed the door, she went back to her room, but didn’t pick up her pen. She just laid down on her bed, thinking. How could she find the other queens, where should she look next. She thought for so long, she didn’t even notice she was falling asleep until she did. 

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

The next morning, Cathy woke up to her daughter jumping on her bed. 

“Mama! Mama! Mama!” she called over and over again. Cathy slowly got up, smiling at her daughter. 

“I’m up, baby! I’m up.” she said. “You can calm down.” she added as Mae stopped jumping on her bed. For the past month, the only thing Mae has ever said was mama, and Cathy found it sweet. “Are you hungry?” Cathy said, to which Mae nodded excitedly. She picked up her daughter and walked to the kitchen, placing Mae at one of the chairs at the table with pillows to raise her up. “Do you want pancakes?” Cathy asked. Mae nodded with a wide smile on her face. “Pancakes it is, then!” After Cathy made the pancakes and served her daughter, she heard a knock on the door. She wondered who that could be. She hadn’t told Cat or Anne where she lived, so it must be one of the neighbours. Maybe it was that nice lady from last night, she seemed like the type who would visit during breakfast just to have a nice chat. But the knock seemed to light to be the lady from last night, so it was probably someone else. Whatever Cathy was expecting, it was definitely not a two year old boy holding a light blue blanket, with frizzy blonde and grey blue eyes. He kind of looked like a smaller boy version of the lady. Maybe this was her son, but why was he here? 

“Um, hello there, little guy!” she said, crouching down to his level. “Where’s your mum?” she asked, even though she doubted that he would answer. But he did. 

“Mama still sleeping. She very tired.” he said, his voice almost a whisper. 

“Well, i think you should go back to her. You shouldn’t just leave the house like that.” she said, hoping to make the boy go home. But then again, he was two, so she would probably have to take him there. She wouldn’t just let him walk all alone. But just as the little boy was about to respond, his mother came, full of worry. 

“Eddy! I told you not to just leave the house like that.” she said, picking him up. “God, i should really start locking the door if you’re going to keep running off like this!” 

“Sorry mama.” he said, looking at the ground. 

“Well, it’s okay. As long as you don’t do it again.” she said as the boy nodded, promising to not do it again. “Hey! Sorry about Eddy. He’s started walking recently.” the lady said, turning to look at Cathy. Cathy just giggled. 

“It’s quite alright. No harm done.” she said. “Hey, if you want, you can stay for breakfast, since you’re already here. Besides, I would like to get to know you better.” 

“Sure, as long as we’re not intruding.” the lady said, holding her son. The lady slowly entered and got a bit more comfortable when she saw that she wasn’t intruding. She was also happy to see how excited Eddy got when he saw Mae sitting at the table. He started talking to her, but it was clear Mae couldn’t talk yet. 

“I’ll make some more pancakes.” Cathy said. “By the way, my name is Catherine. But call me Cathy.” she said, remembering the lady didn’t know her name. 

“Oh, i’m Jane. Jane Seymour.” the lady, Jane, said. Cathy froze. Henry VIII’s third wife. The one he “truly loved”. Again, just how lucky did Cathy get. 

“Hey, can i ask you a weird question?” Cathy said, trying to sound as casual as possible. 

“Sure! Ask away.” Jane said, a small smile on her face. 

“Do you happen to be reincarnated?” she said, hoping she didn’t sound stupid. 

“Can i give you a weird answer?” Jane asked, and Cathy nodded. “Yes, I am. Are you one too?” she asked excitedly. 

“Yes. I’m Catherine Parr. The sixth wife of Henry VIII. I’m looking for the other queens.” 

“And who have you found so far?” Jane asked, seeming interested in the whole ordeal. 

“Catherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn and you.” Cathy answered, making the list in her head. 

“Oh, Anne Boleyn. I haven’t seen her in a while. I hope she doesn’t hate me.” Jane said, looking at the ground. 

“Mama, are you okay? You seem sad.” Eddy said, reminding the two queens that him and Mae were in the room. 

“I’m fine, sweetie. Don’t worry about mama.” Jane said, petting Eddy’s head. 

“Don’t worry, i’m sure Anne won’t be mad.” Cathy said, comforting Jane. “Speaking of which, I should tell her and Cat about it. We’ll go to Cat’s house later, okay?” she said and Jane nodded in response before actually saying:

“Okay.”

@silverpetals97 @patdfobmcr-yt

[a-little-slice-of-fandom]

OMG I JUST SAW SIX (West End) AND I'M IN LOVE AND KATHERINE HOWARD KEPT WINKING AT ME AND I MADE HER LAUGH (slightly) AND IT WAS INCREDIBLE!!!! (also Jane Seymour joked with my mum about not sleeping well for 3 years after you have a baby)

That's like,,,actually adorable!!! I’m so glad you got to see the show love!!!

[the-quiet-winds]

In the Cold Light

[A dip into the Sixcago verse. Inspired by Abby Mueller and Andrea Macasaet]

“Do you even still love me?”

“Wh- of course I do! Where did you get that idea from?”

Jane sucks in a harsh breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But-“ Anne grabs her hand to keep her from leaving. “Don’t leave!”

“I said,” Jane says sharply, pulling away from Anne, “I don’t want to talk about it.” She clenches her hands into fists and looks at the floor, shaking in anger and shame and desperately trying to avoid the tears blooming in Anne’s eyes.

“Please,” Anne whispers. “Talk to me.”

“Leave me alone, Bo,” Jane hisses.

“No, Jane,” Anne counters, but her usual fire is absent. “Just talk to me. What’s going on?”

Instead of answering, Jane simply storms out of the dressing room, leaving a very stressed and scared Anne behind.

Aragon and Parr chase after her, but she’s gone without a trace, somewhere along the streets of Cambridge…

And Anne is all alone.

She misses her immediately.

She watches with the slightest hint of disdain as Mallory quickly began to get ready for an unexpected performance – it wasn’t that she didn’t like Mallory, not at all. She loved her, she was practically her sister. But Anne wants Jane.

Anne knows she shouldn’t. Their past dictates that they should be mortal enemies, that she should hate Jane with every fiber of her being.

But she doesn’t.

She did, at the beginning. She hated the awkwardly-limbed, slightly-too-tall Jane who barely spoke and danced in weird ways and didn’t really know how to carry herself in this new life.

But then they started to talk. Every time Anne was nervous or unsure during their initial rehearsals in Chicago, Jane would give her a friendly smile and encouraging words.

Anne told herself not to get too attached. They were only doing a few weeks in Chicago, then it was all over. But they got extended. Then a move to Boston. Next Canada, then St. Paul, then, somehow, an opening on Broadway.

“Ten minutes! Ten minutes to curtain!”

The announcement over the loudspeaker jolts Anne out of her musings, and she finishes her makeup, sips some more water, then slowly drags herself up to the stage level.

Katherine gently bumps her with her elbow.

“It’ll be okay,” Katherine promises, smiling cheekily. She softens a moment later. “She’ll be alright. You know Jane can be a bit… emotional, sometimes.”

Anne nods glumly, allowing Katherine to take her hand and lead her on stage.

If she’s being honest, Anne doesn’t remember a lot of the show. Mostly, the only thing she recognizes is the pangs in her chest that she felt when it wasn’t Jane’s voice singing after her.

She can’t bring herself to stage door after the show. As quickly as she can, she’s changing out of her show costume and throwing her street clothes back on, barely realizing she’s got her shirt on the wrong way and racing out the back to get to Jane’s place.

Jane’s apartment is no where near her own, but Anne knows she won’t be sleeping tonight if she doesn’t go talk to her.

She goes up the elevator and shuffles nervously in front of the door to Jane’s apartment before working up the courage to knock.

There’s some sort of half-hearted hum from inside, which Anne nervously takes as an invitation.

“Jane?” She calls softly. “Where are you?”

She doesn’t have to look that far. A quick glance into the bedroom of the small apartment betrays Jane, half-curled under the heavy covers on her bed, make-up lines streaking down her cheeks.

When she sees Anne, it’s hard to tell if it’s relief, pain, or anger that crosses her face with the slightest motion of her eyebrow and twitch of her nose.

Without much hesitation, Anne rushes into the room. She barely kicks off her shoes before laying down next to Jane and trying to move as close to her as possible.

“Please,” she all but whimpers, “tell me what’s wrong.”

Jane doesn’t answer, her head falling to the side away from Anne.

The younger girl gives a tiny sort of whine. She presses herself closer to Jane.

“You’re scaring me I don’t know why you took off but I’m sorry for whatever I did just please tell me what’s wrong,” Anne rambles off one in one massive sentence, hoping to get through to Jane.

Finally, after an agonizingly long lull of silence, she hears it. “Do you even still love me?”

It’s the same question from in the dressing room, the one Anne hadn’t fully answered.

“Of course I do,” she says, her voice softer now. It trembles, despite this, weary and worried at giving the Jane the wrong impression. “Why would you think I don’t?”

Jane shudders, barely. “You’ve been spending so much time with Parr,” she mumbles out. “I thought you were replacing me.”

“Never,” Anne breathes out, astonished that Jane would even think she could be replaced. “You… Jane you’re…” she knows what she wants to say, but her mouth and larynx won’t cooperate to make the word.

“It’s okay,” Jane says softly, “I know-“

“You’re like my mom!” Anne finally bursts out. She takes the most steadying breath she can. “You’re like my mom in this life. Mum, mom, whatever.” Anne chokes out a sobbed breath. “I need you.”

“But-“

“No, mom,” she counters with slightly more confidence than before. “All those days in those early rehearsals, you were there for me when no one else was.” A moment’s peace. “Why don’t you believe me?”

That voice, so young and innocent and vulnerable, pulls at Jane’s heartstrings. She can’t help the turn that follows, bringing her to face Anne, tears in those big brown eyes and sloping down soft cheeks.

She swallows hard. “Because what’s so special about me? Look at me,” she chuckles hollowly. “I’m awkward and don’t ever know what to say and-“

Her next thought is cut off by arms tightly wound around her waist, a tiny frame shaking slightly against her. “Stop,” Anne whimpers out. “You’re the best mom I could ever ask for.”

“I’m not your mom, honey,” Jane reminds her softly.

Anne’s face lifts out of her shoulder, looking up to her with those pained eyes. “Don’t you want to be?”

At that, Jane is at a loss for words.

Maybe she does.

When she meets Anne’s pleading gaze again, she knows her answer deep down in her gut. She gently brushes a lock of hair out of Anne’s face with a long finger. “If you’d like that, I’d be more than happy to be your mom, Bo.”

The gentle, loving nickname, born from Anne’s own jokes about her height and habit of calling herself ‘Baby Bo’, brings a smile and a few more tears to Anne’s face.

She feels the softest kiss against her forehead. “I love you, Bo.”

Anne melts into the embrace, holding tightly to her mother figure as the covers are drawn more tightly around them. “I love you too, mom,” she mumbles.

Barely a few moments later, Anne is asleep in the warmth of Jane’s, her mother’s, embrace.

Jane smiles down at her, easily tucking the girl’s head under her chin and running deft fingers along the length of Anne’s hair.

With that same tiny grin still on her lips, Jane holds her daughter close, the promise of her devotion giving her the much needed peace of mind to finally sleep.

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tag list: @percabeth15 @kats-seymour @qualquercoisa945 @jane-fucking-seymour @a-slightly-cracked-egg @justqueentingz @annabanana2401 @wolfies-chew-toy @broad-way-13 @tvandmusicals @lailaliquorice @aimieallenatkinson @sweet-child-why03 @gaylinda-of-the-upper-uplands @funky-lesbians @thinkaboutitmaybe @hansholbeingoesaroundzeworld @messanaa @beeskneeshuh @prick-up-ur-ears @theartoflazy @justqueentwo @brother-orion @paleshadowofadragon @lafemmestars @beautifulashes17 @jarneiarichardnxel @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff @ladiez-in-waiting @mixer1323 @boleynssixthfinger @aimieallen @elphiesdance @boleynthebunny @krystalhuntress @lupin-loves-chocolate @bellacardoza16 @bluify @katherines-choker @why-only-have-one-fandom @missmarvelmixer @le-mlp-nerd @0-hufflepuffle-0 @drawinglinesinarbitraryplaces @lesbabe6 @wicked-books-101 @insertmusicaltheatrepunhere @toomanyfamdom @zoalis @rainbowmoose01 @broadwayqueer

[have-each-others-six]

face to the wind, eyes to the sun (pt. four)

part one

part two

part three

yet again, hello!

there are two more parts and then an epilogue of sorts left, so let’s hold on to our seats, shall we?

also, big credit to @the-quiet-winds for the idea of ‘katherine seymour’. she came up with it in her own fics and i love it so much.

***

three.

When they step outside, everyone’s still pulling on hats and gloves and scarves, so they make a bit of uncoordinated mess as they walk into the sidewalk.

Jane makes sure Katherine’s pink pom-pom hat is snug over her head, and adjusts her scarf a little bit so she’ll be warmer.

“How are you feeling, love?” she asks her, and when she looks at Katherine’s face, she sees that her eyes are red from crying.

It breaks Jane, shatters something deep within the chambers of her heart, to see her baby girl completely hopeless like this.

“I keep seeing them,” Katherine says softly, and Jane doesn’t need to ask who ‘them’ is. 

A vicious anger spreads through her, coupled with deep sadness, the combination of emotions that always overwhelms her when Kat talks about her past life.

Whenever she mentions the men that hit her and clawed at her skin and pushed her dress up roughly around her waist, Jane just wants to curl up around Katherine and shield her from everything awful in the world.

Her feisty, sweet, intelligent girl had once been reduced to nothing more than an object to give men pleasure, and in a few short hours she’ll be back with them, forced to look in their eyes as her head is-

Is-

Jane can’t even begin to think about it.

“Let’s just have fun today as best we can, yeah?” she suggests, taking Kat’s gloved hand in her own. “If it’s too much, we’ll just go home and drink some tea and talk. Sound good?”

Katherine nods, and Jane playfully pokes her daughter’s nose, eliciting the ghost of a smile. “That’s my girl.”

“All right, where we headed, then?” Anna shouts over the din of the snowy city street.

“Wherever the winds take us!”

As Anne says that, turning and spreading her arms out wide in a very dramatic fashion, a breeze blows through, whirling the snow in spirals all around them, and Anne grins up at the sky like it’s in on a joke.

“Okay then, the wind says we go this way,” Anne states, turning right as the sidewalk curves.

“Weren’t we going to the park?” Parr asks, but Anne waves off her question.

“This is crazy,” Aragon grumbles. “Anne, you’re going to get us run over.”

Jane feels a strange sort of bitterness in her heart then, and she holds back a response that since they’re already going to die, it doesn’t matter anyway, does it?

She feels Kat squeeze her hand, like she knows that Jane needs something to ground her right now, and she gives her daughter a grateful smile, kissing her forehead as they walk down a road lined with cute little shops.

“Aha! Animal crackers!” Anne shouts, stopping and pointing inside a corner store, where they can see through the window that there are indeed animal crackers by the cash register. “I’m going in.”

“I’ll go with her,” Anna sighs. “She’ll buy the whole store’s supply otherwise.”

“No, you stay, I’ll go,” Parr volunteers. “She’ll probably listen to me.”

Anna nods and doesn’t argue, clearly exhausted, and Parr follows Anne into the shop.

“How about you? I know you wanted to go to the park, so we’ll do that later, but is there anything special you’d like to do today, love?” Jane asks Kat, putting an arm around her daughter as they wait on the bench.

“Actually…” Katherine starts to reply softly, “...do you think we could check out that French pastry shop? We always say we’re going to, but we never do, because you say you don’t know French.”

“Bien sûr, ma chérie,” Jane responds, grinning. “Of course, my darling. See? I know some French!”

“Will you be able to order anything, though?” Katherine questions her, giggling. “Or will you accidentally order a dead rabbit like you did when we went out for German?”

Katherine’s entire face lights up when she laughs, a reprieve from the grief and fear that’s been surrounding her, and Jane feels an overwhelming relief that her girl is smiling again.

“I can’t help the fact that apparently the way I say ‘hamburger’ somehow sounds very similar to ‘hasenpfeffer’,” Jane says, pretending to defend herself but mispronouncing the words on purpose to bring that light back into Kat’s eyes.

“Anna was so offended.”

“I thought she was really going to bash me over the head with her plate for a second when I was trying to read things off the menu.”

“Well, this French bakery is supposedly a bit more low key. I don’t think there’ll be any plate-smashing,” Katherine explains. She looks genuinely happy, and it melts Jane’s heart.

“Who wants to go to a patisserie?” Jane asks the group, standing up and clapping her hands together. “Kat and I are heading over there now, if anybody wants to come with.”

“Eh, we’ll wait here. Once Anne’s done inside we’ll come over and meet you, okay? Just text us the address,” Aragon says, easily laying out the plan.

Kat gives her a thumbs-up as Jane texts Aragon the location, and then they head over to the bakery.

“This feels strange,” Katherine remarks, pulling on her coat sleeves a little nervously.

“How so?” Jane responds, looking at her expression for a clue to her feelings. However, Katherine’s usually easily readable face is blank, so Jane just takes her daughter’s gloved hand in her own, trying to wordlessly give her support.

“We’re going to a pastry shop, and I’m getting beheaded tonight.”

It feels like all the warmth has been stolen from Jane’s body as Katherine speaks, because she remembers that tonight she’s losing everything.

She stops walking, rooted to the spot in abject terror as snow gathers in her hair.

“Mum? Mum, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Katherine’s panicking now, or close to it, and that manages to snap Jane out of staring blankly forward, consumed by images of her daughter’s head being chopped off.

“No, no, honey, no. Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’m fine,” Jane reassures her, pushing Kat’s hair out of her face and ignoring the anxious pounding of her own heart. “Just got a little cold, that’s all.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jane gives her a shaky smile. “I don’t think ‘okay’ is achievable today, love.”

A steely look of determination appears on Kat’s face. She’s the sweetest girl in the world, but she knows how to be serious when she needs to be.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, mum,” she says, and Jane would be thrown by the change in tone, but she can see the way that Katherine’s eyes are welling with tears and knows that her daughter’s trying to be strong for her. So she stays quiet, and she listens.

“We’re going to go into this pastry shop, and buy some pastries, and we’re not going to talk about dying. Once we’re out of the shop, we can be as depressing and morbid as we like, but right now I think we both just need to try French desserts and talk about boring things.”

Jane can see the way Katherine’s standing, ready for a fight, like she’s about to punch away the grief surrounding them. 

“We can promise, okay?” Jane says, holding up her pinky finger, and Katherine grins in response after linking hers with Jane’s.

“I, Katherine Seymour, solemnly swear not to discuss death in this establishment.”

“I, Jane Seymour, also solemnly swear not to discuss death in this establishment with the addendum of not discussing anything morbid.”

They nod seriously and unlink their fingers, but the second they step apart, Katherine’s anxious anger is back.

“All right, love,” Jane replies, prying apart Kat’s clenched fists and lacing her fingers with her own. She takes a moment to breathe, and then gives Katherine her brightest smile. “Let’s go in.”

Compared to the snowy and grey cold of outside, the pastry shop is warm and bright, and Jane can feel herself relaxing slightly.

There’s a bit of a line, so the two of them get plenty of time to decide what to get for themselves and the other queens.

When they reach the front, the cashier bags up what they want to order, and Katherine takes it to a table while Jane pays. As she puts her credit card in, the cashier starts talking.

“You two are really close for a mother and daughter,” she says, a slight French accent in her voice. “When I was this age, I hated my mother and she hated me. It’s… it’s really nice to see that isn’t always true.”

“Oh, well, that’s lovely of you to say,” Jane replies, sort of unsure how to respond.

“How do you do it? Not fight, I mean.”

“Well…” Jane starts, looking over at Katherine, at a table by the window, sitting on her hands so she won’t eat the pastries without Jane. She feels a soft warmth in her chest, just behind her ribs. “I love her,” she answers simply. “I love her so much that I don’t know what I would do without her. She makes the sun shine brighter and the night feel calmer and when I hear her laugh, it makes me feel like I can brave anything the world can throw at me. I can’t imagine falling into a petty catfight with her about her clothes or cleaning her room, because after loving someone that much, everything else seems to sort of pale in comparison.”

Jane takes a breath, noticing the way her voice is catching with emotion.

“She’s my daughter,” she says softly. “She means the world to me. I couldn’t bear to lose her over something trivial.”

There’s a line behind Jane now, but the cashier’s eyes have filled with tears. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I really… I needed to hear that today.”

Jane smiles, puts back her credit card, and leaves a pound in the tip jar before heading over to her beautiful, smart, brave girl.

“Mum, I swear you can talk to anyone about anything. You were up there for literal years,” Katherine laughs, teasing her. “What were you even talking about?”

“Just about how lucky I am,” Jane says, pulling out a St. Honoré cream pastry and handing it to Kat, licking the extra sugar off of her fingers. 

“How do you mean?” Katherine asks, tilting her head and taking a bite of the flaky treat, cream smearing onto her nose as she does so.

Jane wants to cry, but she holds it back, giving her daughter a watery smile. “I mean you, sweetheart.”

“Really?”

Katherine’s eyes are brown and trusting when she looks over at Jane, but there’s the barest hint of disbelief there, like she doesn’t quite believe that this isn’t all a ruse to get something from her, like Jane can’t possibly mean her.

So Jane takes her hand, and she looks into those eyes that show the trauma and hurt deep inside, and she nods.

“Really, truly.”

The last bit of distrust vanishes from Katherine’s gaze, and her smile becomes completely real.

“I’m lucky too, Mum.”

They sit in a comfortable silence, eating their pastries and watching the world go by outside the window, until the other queens show up, waving from the other side of the glass.

They stall in leaving, cleaning up the table and pushing in the chairs, because they know that when they leave the shop, their promise doesn’t apply and anything is fair game, and it’s so nice to live in a bubble for a moment where they don’t have to think about their impending deaths.

“Ready?” Kat says, standing firmly in front of the door.

“Ready.”

They hold onto each other’s hands in a vice grip as they walk through the door, trying to prepare for whatever comes next.

[crazy-little-cool-cat]

Hand in Glove - Chapter 24 | Ben Hardy x OFC

A/N: I’m a shooting star leaping through the skies like a tiger, defying the laws of gravity. Don’t stop me now. Also, y’all can thank the Jewish holidays for giving me so much free time to write. This chapter was written in collaboration with @ramibaby​. My dear, thank you for sacrificing your fics for this chapter. You are a champion. 

Word Count: Laughs nervously.

Warnings: There’s smut. Also, I’m kind of making fun of fanfics in this one, which means I’m making fun of myself, mostly, so please, fellow writer - do not take this seriously. This is pure fun. If you’re confused by this statement, just read the chapter and your issues will be resolved. 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,  Chapter 3,  Chapter 4,  Chapter 5,  Chapter 6,  Chapter 7,  Chapter 8,  Chapter 9,  Chapter 10,  Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14 , Chapter 15 , Chapter 16 , Chapter 17 , Chapter 18 , Chapter 19 , Chapter 20 , Chapter 21 , Chapter 22 , Chapter 23

“Bullocks.”

“I’m telling you, Jamie. They hated it.”

“Sweet Clara,” Jamie shook his head and pursed his lips, “they’re lying. At least one of them is.”

“Who’s lying?” Annie startled them both.

“You are.” Jamie said, tongue in cheek.

“Enlighten me.” Annie crossed her arms.

“We’ve kissed, what, trillions of times?” Jamie asked. “Not one of them was like kissing a croc. Or an eel.”

“How do you even know -”

“The Snitcher here told me all about it.” Jamie patted Clara’s head. “Anyways, someone’s lying.”

Annie took a deep breath.

“Well, then?” Jamie tapped his foot as he waited for Annie to either tear him a new asshole or come clean. “Which one is it?”

“I mean, it wasn’t that bad.” Annie said, looking at the ground.

“Oh, no…” Clara took a step back while Jamie lifted his closed fist and released it, dropping an invisible mic. “Annie, what are you saying?”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Annie shrugged. “Did I make a whole show of it to get you knuckleheads to stop? Yes. But so did Joe.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh, the plot thickens!” Jamie leered.

“Fuck off, Jamie.” Annie shot back. “Look, did I like the way Joe kissed me? No. Not really. He’s too gentle.”

“But?” Clara prodded on.

“But it wasn’t as horrible as we both said it was.” Annie said casually. “Will I do it again now that I know what it’s like? Nope.”

“Jamie?” Clara looked at the tall redhead.

Jamie squinted suspiciously at Annie, scrutinizing her from head to toe.

“She’s telling the truth.”

###

“How many more of these do we have left?” Ben rubbed his face with both hands and threw his head back against the back of the sofa he, Gwilym, Rami and Joe were crammed in since the morning. “If I have to answer the same bloody questions again…”

They finally got a break. Gwilym decided to go stretch his legs a bit and Rami went out for a smoke, leaving Ben and Joe alone in the room.

“I know, right?” Joe grumbled.

“Can I ask you something?” Ben removed his hands and turned his head to look at Joe.

“Shoot.”

“You liked kissing her, didn’t you?”

“Look, Ben, I don’t want to hurt your feelings…”

“So, you did.”

“It wasn’t as horrible as we made it seem, no.” Joe started. “But I didn’t like the way she kissed me, man.”

“What?”

“She’s too aggressive.” Joe shrugged. “The lip biting thing? I don’t like it.”

“Wait -”

“I mean, she’s not a bad kisser at all.” Joe rephrased. “Very... passionate.”

“Huh.”

“Just a bit too much for my liking.”

“Good. That’s good.” Ben straightened up. “So it won’t happen again?”

“No.” Joe smiled. “Although, her kiss did make me wonder what your sex life is like.”

“Amazing, actually.”

###

Annie stared at her phone, scratching her head in confusion. After looking through her texts while Ben filled the car with petrol, she had half a mind to pay someone to build a flying saucer for her and her family leave this planet forever.

“What’s wrong?” Ben said as he put on his seat-belt.

“The world.”

“Uh?”

“There’s people out there pining over Clara and me. Like, romantically.”

“Come again?” Ben adjusted the rear view mirror and smiled when Rory’s reflection appeared. “What are you on about?”

“They call us Clannie, Ben.”

“What?”

“They’re writing stories about Clara and me as a couple. Graphic stuff.”

“Can you send me a link to one of them?” Ben smirked.

“No!” Annie shuddered. “You sick, sick man!”

“Could be hot.” He shrugged.

“So could the stories about you, Gwilly and Joe.” Annie smirked back.

“What, like Gwil and me, Joe and me, and Gwil and Joe?”

“No, no,” Annie stifled a chuckle. “All three of you at once.”

Ben blinked, staring at the road ahead.

“Da!”

“Yeah, baby?” Ben replied instinctively, before slamming his foot on the breaks. “Did she just call me Da?”

“She’s six months old, I’m not sure babies start talking at that age.”

“She called me Da.” Ben insisted.

“She’s a babbling blob, Ben.” Annie rolled her eyes. “She didn’t call you Da.”

“She said her first word and it was Da.”

“Ben, you’re being irrational.”

“You’re jealous.”

“Da! Ba! Bfffffffffff!” Rory continued.

“I know, Rory,” Annie turned around in her seat, “but doing press interviews can make anyone hear things.”

“Sssssssseeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

“You’re absolutely right.” Annie replied. “But we love him anyways.”

###

If there’s one thing Annie hated the most about promoting season two of Greensleeves, it’s doing the interviews and late-night talk shows. Same questions, different people. It got tiresome. She managed to play the “Baby Card” more times than she’d expected... Until the producers realised what she was doing and the proverbial party was officially over.

“So, is the cast really that close?” Jason, the host, asked Clara and Annie.

“Some are closer than others.” Annie replied, surprisingly diplomatically. “Jamie and I have known each other before and Clara and I basically grew up together, so that was inevitable.”

“The previous George Boleyn was alright, I suppose. He didn’t last too long, though.” Clara chimed in. “But the new guy? We love Mike.”

“Oh yeah, he fit right in.” Annie smiled. “As far as the older cast members - we look up to them, but we don’t share our nonsense with them too much.”

“What about Jane Seymour’s character?” Jason asked.

“Well, we haven’t met her yet.” Annie confessed. “The production team’s goal was for art to truly imitate life and they want my reaction to be as genuine as possible. We haven’t filmed the part she comes into the picture just yet.”

“We don’t even know who she is, to be honest.” Clara added.

“I suspect someone messed up and forgot to cast a Jane, really.” Annie shrugged.

“Careful, there, Annabelle.” Jason chuckled. “Keep calling the production team out like that and you’ll end up fired.”

“I’ll be beheaded either way.”

“And what a glorious sight it will be.” Clara cheekily teased her.

“You two seem to have an amazing bond.” Jason admitted. “Do you ever fight?”

“All couples do.” Clara answered and Jason audibly gasped. “We don’t like to be too public about our tiffs.”

“Clara, you blithering fool…” Annie smacked her own forehead dramatically.

“Well, since you ladies brought it up -”

“Not this lady.” Annie muttered, pointing at herself.

“- what exactly is Clannie? I assume you’ve heard the term before.”

Clara and Annie exchanged amused smiles and sighed simultaneously.

“The bane of my existence.” Annie replied.

“Basically, I stumbled upon it the other day after a fan sent me a private message on Instagram, saying there’s an actual hashtag people use when they talk about Annie and I.”

“Sounds innocent enough.” Jason shrugged.

“Oh, you dirty, dirty man.” Clara joked. “You know damn well where this is going.”

“You seem to be enjoying this!” Jason laughed.

“Believe me, she loves every bloody minute of it.” Annie chimed in.

“Right, so as I snooped around I found that Clannie is like a code name for Annie and I as a couple.”

“Aha.”

“And the more I delved in, the more entertaining it got. People are writing some pretty wild fanfiction stories about us.”

“Is it really all fiction?” Jason asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you’ll look at the screen here,” Jason turned back a little where a huge image behind the scenes of Greensleeves appeared. It was one of Annie licking cake off Clara’s face, “the show’s Instagram page is like fodder for the Clannie enthusiasts.”

“Oh my God, I forgot about that!” Annie burst out laughing. “It was Clara’s birthday! Season one! Jamie took this picture, actually. Right after I smashed Clara’s face into that cake.”

“It’s tradition.” Clara explained. “The cake licking part was definitely improvised.”

###

“Ben?”

“In here!”

Annie followed the sound of Ben’s voice and found him in the living room, folding laundry while watching whatever was on the telly.

“I am absolutely shattered.” Annie wrapped her hands around Ben’s waist and looked up at him. “Longest day in my entire life.”

“Likewise.” Ben murmured and kissed her. “Just got home a couple of hours ago. When I picked Rory up from my mum’s she was already asleep.”

“God, I wish I could be her for a day.”

“Yeah? Want me to give you baths and carry you in my arms and nibble on your little bum after I change your nappy?” Ben raised an eyebrow. “Just say the word. Also Joe and Gwil shot a weird little bit today when they read what Tumblr users said about the movie and cast and do people not wank anymore?”

“I, uh…” Annie was at a loss for words.

“How was your day?”

“If I have to hear about Clannie again I will definitely clock someone.” Annie released her grip on Ben and collapsed on the sofa. “Why are people so obsessed with this?”

“Two hot birds doing naughty things?” Ben shrugged. “I can see the appeal of it.”

“Ben, no.”

“Don’t be such a prude, now, love.” He put the last item of folded clothing in the hamper and flopped down next to Annie, his hand trailing up her thigh.

“Ben…”

“I missed you, alright?” his fingers poked their way under the waistband of her leggings. “I can’t stop missing you.”

“Ben, seriously, I’m so tired.” She grumped as he slid off the sofa and positioned himself in front of her, nudging her legs open. “I missed you too but -”

“Let me do all the work.” He looked up at her through his eyelashes as his hands gripped her waistband again. He looked up at Annie with his best puppy dog eyes and waited for her consent. With a sigh, she lifted her bum up, letting Ben pull her leggings and knickers down in one swift motion. “Good girl.”

###

When Ben’s phone rang for the fifth time and Gwilym’s name showed up on the screen yet again, he knew something was either horribly wrong or that Gwilym is drunk and emotional. Glancing at Annie, they both sighed in resignation before taking the FaceTime call.

“Have you been drinking?” Annie asked when Clara showed up on the screen. “What kind of fuckery is this?”

“We found a good story and we just had to share, alright? Calm your tits, Annie. It’s not a Clannie.” Clara rolled her eyes. “Why won’t Joe pick up?”

“I just texted him to pick up.” Ben shoved the screen into view. “As his husband, he’ll surely listen to me.”

“Bugger off!” Gwil turned his phone around and flipped him the bird.

“Why have I been summoned?” Joe asked, his face appearing on the screen.

“Well, we have a treat for you!” Clara practically sang.

“A treat?”

“Yours socks are going to fly right off, mate.” Gwil added as Clara pulled the story up on her phone. “You’re not ready for this.”

With a devilish smile to the camera, Clara cleared her throat and began.

“’Joe…?’ Ben croaked, eyes still closed, brow low and fingers wrapped firmly around his length over his jeans.” Clara started reading.

“Off to a good start.” Annie teased.

“It gets better.” Clara commented. “Right, where was I? Ah. There.” She snickered. “Suddenly, his eyes shot open and they landed on you once again; glassy and dazed they were as he stared you down, stroking himself with more purpose. He looked at you with such focus and intent, it was as though he was about to devour you whole. You looked at him with such longing, it was as though you were about to let him. ‘Undress… h-her.’ His words came out in a strangled whine and he bit his lip, looking over your body expectantly as Joe wordlessly obliged.” Clara raised her eyes from the screen and huffed. “Gwil, stop smiling like that!”

“What in the bloody hell is this?” Ben was visibly annoyed. “I do not whine. Annie, tell them I don’t whine!”

“He really doesn’t.” Annie nodded. “But Joe doing everything Ben says? That person hit the nail on the head right there.”

“Hey!” Joe’s brows knotted. “I don’t do everything he says!”

“But you do.” Ben and Annie choired.

“Shut up, you two-headed-monster.”

“People, can we please focus on the important stuff? There’s more to read here.” Clara scolded them. “Let’s see… Oh, this is good! Your nerves grew as a pair of warm hands rounded your shoulders from behind. Joe must have felt you tense up a little as he leaned down to murmur in your ear, ‘Alright, Y/N?’ The ghost of his words made you shiver on their way past.”

“Who the fuck is Whyanne?” Ben interrupted.

“Sounds like some hillbilly from a West Virginian trailer park with a potato gun and a cousin with missing teeth.” Joe added.

“What?” Clara was visibly confused.

“Who’s Whyanne and why did I tell Joe to undress her? This makes no bloody sense.”

“It’s written as Y-slash-N, you knobs.” Gwil explained. “Carry on, doll.”

“Anyways.” Clara continued. “You smiled at his redundant question - of course you weren’t.”

“I don’t like where this is going.” Joe commented. “Sounds a bit rapey.”

“Just let me finish!” Clara groaned. “You were certain your panties were soaked through at the mere sight of them - a fact you felt too compelling to keep to yourself. With that in mind, you shook your head slowly from side to side, eyes still on Ben before you, your chest inflating as you drew in a deep breath. Ben shot you a confused look, concerned you were having second thoughts.”

“Yeah, this is definitely rapey.” Joe concluded.

“Joe, if you won’t let her finish a bloody paragraph, so help me God…” Annie threatened, clearly invested in the story.

“Thank you, Banana!” Clara put a hand over her heart with a grateful smile. “Wait I lost my spot again… duh-duh-duh… there it is!” She smiled triumphantly. “Here we go. Hold on to your manties, gentlemen, this is about to get steamy.” She took a deep breath and got into character. “‘No,’ you breathed, tilting your head back to look at Joe. You reached a hand up to cup his jaw as he looked down at you, a look of worry overtaking his soft features.”

“My features aren’t soft.” Joe muttered. “They’re manly and feral.”

“Of course they are, bub.” Annie reassured him.

“Guys! Come on!” Clara snapped her fingers at the camera. “Focus!”

“Sorry.” Annie said sheepishly.

“’I’m so fucking wet and…”

“Whoa, whoa!” Ben cut her off. “Gwilym, control your woman!”

“She’s reading the story, you saggy tit.” Gwil explained.

“Joe emitted a soft whine -” Clara paused, knowing an interruption is due. “Joe, sweetheart, this sounds like something you’d do, don’t even think about denying it.” She pointed at the camera. “- Joe emitted a soft whine and his expression shifted; his eyes dark and nostrils flaring as his grip on your shoulders tightened. Pushing your ass back against his crotch, you disclosed, ‘…I think I’ve ruined my favourite…” Clara burst out laughing. “Sorry. ‘I’ve ruined my favourite -” the pitch in her voice rose ten octaves at the last syllable as she tried to stop laughing like a madwoman. “My favourite…” Clara was absolutely wheezing. She tried to finish the sentence, but all that came out of her was a screechy, “laaaaaace-pannnnneeeeeeeeeeeeeee”.

“What?” Ben looked at Annie in utter bewilderment. Annie shrugged in response.

“What was that last part?” Joe scratched his head as he tried to make sense of Clara’s incoherent shrieking.

“Lace panties.” Gwilym’s voice saved the day and translated his hysterical girlfriend’s nonsensical mumbling. “She ruined her favourite lace panties.”

“Oh.” Joe, Ben and Annie choired.

“Clara, compose yourself.” Gwil chuckled as she physically doubled over, tears running down, her laughter leaving her breathless. Moving to sit next to her and switch to the front camera on his device, he took Clara’s phone from her. “Right, guess I’m going to take charge now. You furrowed your brow, your mouth ajar as you began to slowly grind against him, your hand never leaving the side of his face as his eyes bore into yours.” Gwilym paused. “Seems anatomically impossible if her back is against you unless you have a freakishly long neck.”

“I thought she was looking at Ben?” Joe asked.

“She’s clearly looking at you, Joe.” Annie quipped.

“Joe tried to keep his composure - to play along in the same teasingly innocent tone as yours, but the feeling of you moving against him must have been a little to much to bear as he stuttered ‘oh n-no…” Gwilym snorted. “Wow Joe, got a little excited there, hm? His hands trailed down your waist before resting on your hips. He held onto them tight as he pushed his clothed hard on against you with such force you drew in a deep breath.”

“Oh, wow.” Annie leaned back, her eyes wide. “The power of Joe’s boner really got her there.”

“His voice was low as he murmured, ‘surely we can - ugh,” he licked his bottom lip, eyes closing a moment as you felt his cock twitch against your ass - he was just as worked up as you.” Gwilym paused there, mulling over what he had just read aloud. “Joe, whoever wrote this seems to think you have a speech impediment.”

“Right?!” Joe asked, “Why do I keep stuttering?! I’m the most charismatic one!”

“Anyways.” Gwilym said, ignoring Joe’s last comment. “His eyes fluttered open and he continued, ‘surely we can make it up to you’. ‘I’d like that Joey…’ you smiled.”

Joe, Ben and Annie waited, not sure if that was it or if there’s more to the story. After a minute of Clara’s heaving and the rest sitting in silence, Annie finally spoke.

“To be fair,” she looked at Ben, “if it weren’t for the lace panties, I’d be willing to bet cold hard cash that Gwil wrote that for himself to read.”

###

“Hey, Joe! I bought something for you to take on your tour!” Annie beamed mischievously.

It was the night the guys - minus Ben - were leaving for the press tour and Annie went out on a whim earlier that day and decided to tease Joe in the best way she could possibly imagine.

“Well? What is it?” Joe asked impatiently.

They were all gathered at Annie and Ben’s, from which the car to the airport was picking the rest of the guys up. Ben was mopey and miserable, a stark contrast to Annie’s cheeriness.

“Close your eyes.” Annie drawled.

“I’d rather keep them open, actually.”

“Alright then.” Annie shrugged and left the room to fetch Joe’s present. She returned with a life-sized cardboard cutout of Ben. “Ta-daaa!”

“I love it!” Joe gushed and rushed over to her, taking the present and looking it over. “What’s his name?”

“I call him Ben Cardy.” Annie said proudly. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh Ben!” Joe’s smile was so wide, his face could split in half. “It’s like you’ll be with us after all!”

###

Ben was staring at his phone intently, his hand lazily palming his crotch. He knew he shouldn’t have done that. He should not have gone down the Clannie rabbit-hole. But Annie was away at work, Rory was napping, and he just felt compelled to at least give it a look. He almost hung from the bedroom ceiling fan when Annie cleared her throat, announcing her presence. He dropped his phone with a yelp.

“Jesus, Annie!”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Annie choked back a chuckle. “Also, surprise!”

“Why are you home?” Ben fumbled for his phone.

“Well, this is not what I was hoping you’d say.”

“Sorry, I mean -”

“I can leave if you want me to.” Annie suggested.

“What? No. Shut up.” Ben rambled. “Why are you home so early?”

“I figured you’d be sad and lonely now that the guys are away and decided to surprise you and come home early.” Annie shrugged. “Clearly, this isn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

“Christ. I’m sorry.” Ben’s face was beet-red. “I’m happy you’re home, obviously.”

“What do you have there?”

“Nothing.” Ben powered the screen off and tossed his phone aside. “C’mere.”

“No, there’s definitely something.” Annie stepped back and shook her head. “Was that porn?”

Ben had only a split second to think about a satisfactory answer that wasn’t also a total lie.

“Yes.”

“Well, that explains the tent you’re sporting.” Annie smirked. “Were you just getting started?”

“Uh.” Ben furrowed his brows.

“Alright. What’s up?” Annie pointed at Ben’s crotch. “Other than that.”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” Shame flashed in Ben’s eyes. “Just regular porn, y’know.”

“Ben.”

“Annie.”

“Give me the phone.”

“No.”

“Are you…” Annie grimaced. “Are you sexting someone?”

“What? No!”

“You’re hiding something.”

“Annie, just let it go.”

“Fuck off. Give me the phone.”

Ben bit his bottom lip as he contemplated his next course of action. Either he tells Annie what’s on his phone, or he tries to distract her long enough for her to forget about it. When Annie lunged forward and made grabby-hands at his phone, his instincts kicked in. He physically blocked her.

“Annie, stop.”

“What the fuck!”

“It’s a Clannie story, alright?!” he almost growled at her. “There. Now you know.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Ben, that’s…” Annie struggled to find the proper adjective.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Ben looked mortified. “I was bored and lonely. It’s horrible.”

“Then why are you hard?”

“Because it turns me on.”

“I’m confused.”

“Look, it’s not Hemingway, alright?” Ben groaned. “But the stuff this person wrote? The mental image I have planted in my brain now?”

“Good Lord.”

“Just come here. Listen.”

“Have you gone utterly bonkers, Jones?”

“Seriously. Come here.” He patted the empty space on the bed next to him.

Muttering to herself, Annie did as asked and snuggled up to her boyfriend.

“Right, so I’m skipping the beginning because that was just all kinds of blah.” Ben’s voice had an animated quality to it as he scrolled. “There. Listen.”

“You’re awful.” Annie mumbled. “This is domestic abuse.”

“Shut up.” Ben got comfortable and began. “’I’ve never been with a woman before…’ Clara confessed shyly, avoiding Annie’s piercing gaze.”

“Starting off with a lie, I see.” Annie scoffed and rolled her eyes, trying to stop Ben from reading any further.

“Annie simply smiled at how bashful Clara had become. Reaching out, Annie tucked a wayward strand of hair behind Clara’s ear. Clara leaned into it smiling softly as her eyes met Annie’s once again. ‘Would you like to?’ Annie asked boldly -”

“Alright, stop right there.” Annie sat up straighter. “I am sick and tired of everyone feeling like Clara is this sweet, innocent, baby angel all the time and I’m some she-devil, maneater, sex-crazed banshee.”

“You were cast as Anne Boleyn for a reason, love.”

“That’s besides the point! Clara is a filthy, naughty little elf!”

“Right. Anyhow.” Ben cleared his throat. “‘Would you like to?’ Annie asked boldly sitting up on her heels so their faces were only inches apart. She could feel Clara’s warm breath ghost her cheeks as she replied quietly, ‘yes.’”

Ben paused and waited for Annie’s outraged reaction.

“No comment?” He asked, genuinely surprised.

“Nope. You know, with me being such a bloody whore and enticing sweet blondes into sex all the time and whatnot. Carry on.”

“I mean, where’s the lie, though?”

“In case you forgot, you kissed me on our first date. And convinced me to have unprotected sex.”

“You should thank me for it.” Ben booped Annie’s nose with his finger. “Gave us Rory.”

“Goddamn it. You’re right.”

“Let me just find where I was when you so rudely interrupted me and scared the shit out of me…” he scrolled through the story. “There. ‘Fuck Clara, so good!’ Annie moaned, bare chest heaving as she grasped at the bed sheets beneath her. For someone who had never been with a woman before, Clara certainly knew how to use her tongue in a way that had Annie screaming in delight.”

“This? This makes you horny?” Annie snorted.

“Shut up.” Ben kept scrolling. “Oh, this bit is juicy. ‘Thought about this for so long.’ Annie breathed, her fingers parting Clara’s slick folds and spreading her wetness around. Slick folds?” Ben blinked at the screen.

“My ears feel like they’ve been sexually assaulted.”

“Slick folds. Okay.” Ben took a second to recover. “Hmmm… ‘Thought about what your sweet voice would sound like moaning my name.” Annie continued. Clara’s breath hitched and hips jerked as Annie began lazily circling her engorged clit -”

“Oh my God that’s not even remotely sexy.” Annie covered her mouth with her hand. “Engorged clit?!”

“-’Fuck, Annie, make me cum!’ Clara almost sobbed.”

“Alright, stop. I’m the one almost sobbing.” Annie looked up at Ben as if she’d seen a ghost. “What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know, but my cock is throbbing.”

###

“Do you two even realise what you’ve done?” Greensleeves’ executive producers were beyond livid. “The fans are furious!”

“They’re furious?!” Annie barked back. “Did you even see the utter shit that’s out there?!”

“It’s not that bad.” Clara shrugged. “Some of it’s pretty good.”

“Clara, if you don’t zip it -” Annie muttered, clenching her fists.

“Ben seemed to like it.” Clara blurted out in anger.

“Oh?” Jamie’s ears perked up. “Our little Benny Boy wants to see his girl get it on with her best friend?”

“Stay out of it, James.” If looks could kill, Jamie would be dead, resurrected and killed again, for good measure.

“Not a chance, Annabelle.”

“You imbeciles need to stop being so rude to our fans.” The executive leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, pointing at the trio. “If they want to write porn about the three of you, you shut up and look the other way. You don’t go on national television and bitch about it!” he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“I’m guessing Ben won’t be into any Jannie stories, then?” Jamie quipped and earned a slap to the back of his head. “Ow!”

“Any publicity is good publicity?” Clara asked timidly.

“I mean, some of our fans loved our honesty. They’re all about Team Clannie now.” Annie said.

“Yeah, and some of them are planning to assassinate you for being evil enough to seduce Ben Hardy and Gwilym Lee with your witch-magic superpowers.” Mike finally spoke. “You two are in for some serious rounds of online shit-talking, ladies. Enjoy.”

#########

TAGLIST:  @ramibaby @xgoingdownx @qweenly @violetpond @sweeterthancheese @drummerqueenrmt @westansstuff @justgivemethekeys  @blondecarfucker @cheeseedreams47 @deacy-dearest @pinkmarvel @onceuponadetectivedemigod

[lailaliquorice]

but instead I am here

it’s angst time. why is it that nearly every jane-centric i write fic is just angst time??

anyways, this is some pretty heavy angst with a happy ending in response to the ‘jane and anne angst’ request i received with the prompt ‘I never got to say goodbye’. my instinct was to have anne be the upset one but then i had an idea inspired by listening to come from away so we’ve flipped the script here. the ask also suggested an optional cleves so we have a little cleves at the end c:

my personal prompt with this was the cfa line ‘I should be here for my son but instead I am here.’ it hurts my feelings but enjoy loves

tw for discussion of child death

It was no secret that Jane struggled more openly with the loss of her son than the other mothers among the Queens did. Being so vocal about Edward during the show meant he was something she thought about a lot, and the all-consuming grief she’d struggled with during the first few weeks after reincarnation had led her to a support group for mothers who had lost babies as she’d done. While she’d frequently extended the invitation to Aragon, Anne, and Cathy to join her, they’d all gratefully declined and let Jane go to the sessions alone.

Even though her loss was different to the other members and nothing she could explain, it had been easy enough to lie to them all. According to them Edward had died at eleven days old – the age he’d been upon his mother’s death. When she’d first been asked why she’d kept it vague and said an infection, and when someone asked if it was meningitis she’d just said yes for simplicity’s sake. If someone shared a photo of their baby with her she said she found his too hard to look at, but would eagerly describe her beautiful baby boy with blue eyes and mousy hair. Nothing about that was a lie, and neither was the longing that never left her eyes as she spoke of him.

For the most part the sessions were helpful; she could talk of Edward without feeling like a burden on the other Queens who had also lost children, and learn of ways she could remember him without it hurting so much. But, a few months into her time with the group, there was one session which did the exact opposite.

It was one of the sessions where a psychologist would come in and speak to everyone in a group. The topic of the day was guilt, and from listening to everyone else Jane learned of the guilt they shared over their children’s deaths. How they’d all wondered if there was something they could have done more to save them, if there was something they had done to change what happened and save their lives, the survivors guilt of living through something which their baby did not. And by the end of the session, everyone’s smiles seemed a little freer as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

Jane had only listened quietly, burdened by the secret that she hadn’t been the one to survive. She barely registered the walk home as her mind whirled with unburied feelings, her subconscious twisting everything that had been said into something to attack herself with.

She felt guilty beyond words but for the opposite reason. She’d been the one who wasn’t strong enough. It was her fault that she’d missed out on everything she’d so looked forward to. She’d been the one to leave Edward alone.

But she put on a false smile when Kat and Anna greeted her at the door, hiding her shaking hands in the pockets of her dress as she waited for the kettle to boil. Anne and Anna’s friendly jabs at each other were distracting enough that no-one noticed the chinking sound of her favourite teacup rattling against the saucer as she took a sip. She smiled at Kat whenever she looked her way. She told herself she was fine, because she couldn’t let anyone see that she wasn’t.

It was Kat climbing onto the kitchen worktop to grab something on top of the cupboard that started the chain reaction which ended with her mask shattering.

“Get down from there Kat, you could fall and hurt yourself,” Jane scolded lightly, hoping no-one noticed the lack of conviction in her voice.

“But Anne’s allowed to be on the counter!”

Jane glanced across the kitchen ad Kat’s complaint, tutting at Anne who was sat cross-legged on the opposite worktop looking very smug. “Technically she’s not, but Anne has no concept of personal safety and therefore does what she likes,” Jane said, managing to smile when Anne poked her tongue out at her.

Kat gave an exaggerated groan, accepting Anna’s hand as she clambered back down to the floor. “Whatever you say, mum,” she said with a grin.

Jane didn’t smile. There was the word she’d always wanted to hear, the word which had taunted her endlessly all morning. Mum. But it was the wrong voice, the wrong time, the wrong face, the wrong everything. Her grip slackened and she barely flinched as she dropped her teacup, shattering into shards of porcelain and splashing boiling liquid all down her bare leg.

Before she could register what she was doing, she was sobbing into her hands in the middle of the kitchen.

“Jane!” came Kat’s frightened cry, accompanied by firm hands on Jane’s shoulders. “Jane, what’s wrong?”

It was impossible to answer through her sobs, hunching forwards to hide her face as Kat shook her shoulders to try and get a response. “Did I do something wrong? Please, it’s scary seeing you like this because you’re like my mum and-“

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

Kat stopped immediately at Jane’s hysterical interruption, taking a stumbling step backwards as her face fell with shock. Jane exhaled roughly at the sight of Kat’s distraught expression, unable to look at Anne or Anna who she knew were both watching the scene unfold as the guilt that had been building all morning multiplied tenfold.

With another half-sob she turned tail and fled, sprinting up the stairs before collapsing to her knees on her bedroom floor. Regardless of how hard she pressed her hands over her eyes she couldn’t stop seeing Kat’s face when Jane pushed her away, did everything that Jane had promised she would never do in the space of four short words. Not only had she failed Edward but now she’d failed Kat too. The reality of that made her tremble helplessly as she cried even harder.

She couldn’t bring herself to move when she heard her door being opened. A quiet sigh sounded from the doorway, before there was someone sat next to her with their knee bumping hers. “Hey,” said Anne, “d’you wanna tell me what happened?”

Jane didn’t answer her question, instead asking in a broken voice “Is Kat ok?”

Anne gave an unsure shrug. “I dunno, she seemed pretty shaken. Anna took her out on a walk.”

“Oh, God,” Jane sobbed, curling forwards and covering her face with her hands again.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Anne said, scooting closer so she could gently rub Jane’s arm. “People make mistakes, Kat’s not expecting you to be perfect. She’s still gonna love you.”

Jane shook her head, whimpering slightly into her hands. “I messed up. I took it out on Kat just because I miss Eddie and I feel so so bad,” she choked out between breaths.

Somehow Anne must have heard her words despite them being muffled by her hands, because she sighed again as she said “Oh hun, is this about Edward?”

Nodding, Jane managed to look up Anne despite her bloodshot eyes and the mascara she knew had to be running down her cheeks. “I feel so bad,” she repeated in a voice not much more than a whisper. “I left him. The reason why he grew up with no mother was my fault, I died and I left him Anne, I left him alone.”

“No, it wasn’t your fault at all,” Anne insisted, hugging Jane’s arm when she continued to shake her head. “Seriously. There was nothing you could have done to change anything.”

“I just feel so guilty,” Jane muttered, rubbing a hand under her eyes. “He’d have had a mother if I’d been stronger. And Kat, she’d never have suffered either because Henry wouldn’t have remarried. I failed both of them.” Her voice wavered as she trailed off, tears streaming down her face as she struggled not to break down again.

Anne frowned, tugging Jane’s arm to make her look at her. “Listen to me, Jane Seymour,” she said in a tone so severe that Jane was forced to pay attention. “None of it’s your fault. Would you have chosen that if you’d had the choice? No you wouldn’t’ve done. Shit happened to all of us and it’s not your fault. What do you think they’d say if they knew you were blaming yourself like this, hmm?” The question was accompanied by a pointed hum and a raised eyebrow, though she was still clinging onto Jane’s arm in an effort to keep her from spiralling again.

At first Jane thought of Kat, of the earnest look in her eyes when she’d told Jane that she didn’t blame her for anything. But then she thought of Edward, and the soul crushing fact that he wouldn’t even know who she was to say anything to her if he somehow had the opportunity. “He wouldn’t say anything because he wouldn’t even know who I am because I wasn’t there,” she said bitterly, shaking her head. She was quiet for a moment before adding in an agonised whisper “I never got to know him. I never got to say goodbye.”

“I know how that feels,” Anne said quietly, but when Jane looked at her expecting sadness or anger in her eyes she saw only a faint smile of understanding. “Hows about this then: would you blame me for dying and not being there for Bess?”

Jane shook her head, confused as to what her point was. “No, of course not. You were killed, you didn’t just die. It wasn’t anything you did.” The two situations were worlds apart as far as she was concerned; Anne would never have died if she hadn’t been taken to the scaffold whereas Jane’s death was all her own doing.

The self-content look on Anne’s face as she hugged Jane’s arm close didn’t help her confusion. “Exactly. Neither of our deaths were our fault so we can’t go blaming ourselves. I got killed by a sword, you got killed by bacteria. Don’t get me to elaborate on that though, that’s what our resident bookworms are for,” she joked with a wink.

She managed to smile faintly at that, knowing that Cathy or even Kat with their love of reading would probably know more modern science than either she or Anne did. But it dropped a little as she looked into Anne’s eyes, still able to find the shadows in her gaze despite her chipper smile. “You do blame yourself though, don’t you?” she asked tentatively, saying it out of concern rather than an attempt to undermine Anne’s reasoning.

Anne shrugged one shoulder, dropping her eyes from Jane’s face. “Sometimes,” she said, one hand hovering over the choker which she was scarcely seen without. “I try not to though. I know she didn’t blame me, Cathy’s told me that. So I try not to feel guilty.”

Jane nodded at Anne’s words. There was logic in what she said, something which surprised Jane in some aspects but didn’t in others. She knew as well as they all did that Anne was cleverer than she made herself out to be, both from their interactions in their past lives and her occasional genius comments that made it through the façade. She opened her mouth to say something else and shifted on her knees a little as she did so, but her words were forgotten when pain flared all down one shin and she let out a pained cry instead.

There was an instant look of worry on Anne’s face, taking Jane’s arms and helping her carefully stretch out her leg. Patches of red scalds marred her pale skin from where she’d dropped her tea earlier but completely forgotten about it with how distraught she’d been.

“Come here, let’s get you sorted,” said Anne, standing up as Jane just stared at the injuries on her leg. She blinked a couple of times before registering Anne’s hands in front of her, then let her help her stand and limp across the hall into the bathroom.

Jane sat quietly on the side of the bath with her leg under the tap while Anne ran around finding cold compresses and bandages, a shallow smile on her face as she muttered confusedly to herself while rummaging through the first aid kit. Normally Jane would have been up in arms at her organisation being messed up but she felt so drained she didn’t care, just humming a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ whenever Anne asked her a direct question. Her attentiveness was endearing, a reminder that Anne had been a mother too despite how she acted nowadays, and it was nice to see every now and then.

“There we are,” Anne grinned up at Jane as she finished, taping down the last bandage. Her smile faded a little as she saw Jane’s faraway expression, resting her forearms on Jane’s lap as she asked “Penny for your thoughts?”

She shrugged first, then sighed as she figured there was no point in clamming up now after everything she’d already said. “I should be here for my son,” she said in a monotone voice, “But instead I am here.” Fresh tears pooled in her eyes as she spoke and she didn’t bother blinking them away before they fell.

Anne gave a sympathetic smile. “He had people there for him though. He wasn’t alone, neither of them were.” Jane knew she was referring to Elizabeth then, and nodded concedingly. “Besides,” Anne added, “here’s pretty great, right?”

The hopeful smile on Anne’s face was hard to ignore. “Yes it is,” Jane said, managing to smile herself as Anne’s grin brightened. With a fond look at the younger girl, Jane placed a gentle hand on Anne’s hair and drew her hair away from her face as she said “Thank you, love. You’ve been wonderful.”

“Ah, it’s what we’re all here for,” Anne attempted to say casually with a nonchalant shrug, but her flushed cheeks and happy smile gave away how she was touched by the praise.

At the sound of the front door opening they both glanced towards it, Jane suddenly filled with apprehension at facing Kat again after how she’d pushed her away so harshly. Anne spoke first, standing up and offering Jane her hand again as she asked “You ready?”

Jane hesitated a moment before she nodded.

Kat and Anna were stood in the hallway when Anne led Jane down the stairs, and Jane immediately ran forwards to pull Kat into her arms. “I’m so sorry darling,” she said as Kat wrapped her arms around Jane’s neck and squeezed tightly. “I’m so, so sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was upset but I should never have taken that out on you.”

“It’s ok,” Kat whispered in Jane’s ear before they broke apart. “You’re allowed to be upset, you know? You just need to talk to us rather than keep it all inside,” she said, catching Jane’s hand and squeezing her fingers gently.

The smile on Kat’s face was enough for Jane to know she’d forgiven, and her guilt seemed to fall away along with the fresh tears that trickled down her cheeks. “My special girl,” she murmured, reaching out to catch the tears that fell down Kat’s own face.

Kat leaned into her touch for a moment, before suddenly turning to take a box from Anna. “We got you this while we were out,” she said almost shyly, holding it out to Jane and nodding for her to open it.

Beneath several layers of tissue paper was a new teacup to replace the one she’d just smashed, decorated with swirls and flowers in the six colours of the Queens’ costumes. “It’s beautiful,” Jane said, unable to tear her eyes away from it for several seconds before she could look up at Kat. “Thank you, sweetheart. And thank you too,” she added to Anna.

Anna smiled as she walked over, slinging an arm around Jane’s shoulders and pulling her close for a moment. “We saw it and knew we had to get it for you. But I’m still gonna tease you for still drinking from a teacup in the bloody twenty first century.”

Jane laughed then for the first time that morning, smiling warmly at them all as she wrapped an arm around Anna’s waist and Anne hugged her cousin from behind. “I think I can allow that,” she said with a chuckle, grinning brighter at Anna’s infectious burst of laughter.

It wasn’t the family she’d once dreamed of, back in the old times when they were awaiting her son’s arrival with such longing and excitement. But, when her tears were dried and she was sat at the table that evening with her four sisters and one daughter, she knew without doubt that it was the only family she ever needed.

[janeyseymour]

Not A Child

Katherine Howard is not a child. She just wants you to know that.

WC: 3035

Katherine Howard was not stupid. She wasn’t a child. Yes, she was young, barely an adult. But her age was just a number. Did she maybe have childlike tendencies sometimes? Absolutely. But who didn’t? It enraged her when people infantilized her. She was nineteen and doing more than most nineteen year olds would even dream of doing at this point in their lives. For heaven’s sake, she was starring in a hit musical, handling press and being in the media’s eye, being an activist and social justice warrior- all on top of being a full time college student with outstanding marks. She barely had time to eat and breathe, much less take time for herself. However, she always made time for her friends. It was known that no matter what Katherine was going through that day, she would absolutely put her worries and problems aside for her friends and the other queens.

So one day when a friend from college was having a tough time, she begged Jane to let her go out on a drive that night with said friend after the show (not that she had to ask her. She just understood that the blonde had worries about her being behind the wheel after a day of work and school). The silver queen hesitated and sighed with an, “Are you sure you’ll be alright? I know you’re tired.” When Kat assured the third monarch she would be fine and promised she would text if she was going to be out past midnight, the older woman conceded her car keys. The fifth queen gave her a shocked look- she didn’t think Jane would hand over her keys so willingly.

“You are an adult Kat. I trust that you know yourself well enough to know that you’ll be okay. If you get too tired, don’t hesitate to ring. You know I’ll make Lina come with me to pick you two up and get you both back home safely.”

“Oh yeah. I am an adult. Thank you M-” The younger woman stopped herself. “-Janey.” She hugged the woman she was quickly forming a mother-daughter bond with. “I love you.”

“Love you too dear.” Jane watched the pink haired girl fondly before closing the door and settling herself on the couch with Catherine.

“What’re we watching tonight?”

“You mean what am I watching tonight?” When the third queen looked at the other, Catalina laughed. “Oh please. We both know you’re going to be in that pretty little head of yours worrying about Kit until she gets home safely tonight.”

Usually, the two in the car would blast music and sing to their hearts’ content. How Katherine was able to sing at the theatre and belt her soul out in the car while still maintaining a healthy voice was beyond everyone- the fifth queen included.

On this night though, Bella was not in the mood to sing. Instead, she spilled her heart out to the pink haired girl, who remained quiet and listened. After the college student was finished venting, Katherine thanked her for letting out her emotions around her- something she had learned from Jane herself. 

“For what?” the emotionally drained student laughed bitterly.

“I just, I know it can be hard to trust someone enough to spill out all of those emotions. It can be really hard.” She smiled softly at her friend, knowing the feeling.

“Hard to trust people in general, or hard to trust you because you bounce around like a five year old on campus?” Bella tried to joke, but the words cut deep into Katherine’s soul. Was that what people really thought of her?

“Oh trust me, I am more than capable of acting like an adult. I mean, I have an entire career in theatre and I’m a full-time college student with outstanding marks,” the pink-haired woman huffed out. The rest of the car ride was silent.

When Kat entered the queens’ house, she wasn’t surprised to see Catalina dozing off with her head on Jane’s shoulder, and the blonde was wide awake.

“You’re home early love,” the blonde noted.

“Yeah.” The teen ruffled a hand through her tresses, a small frown forming on her face. “I’m going to bed.”

“Would you like to spend the night in my room with me?” Jane asked hopefully.

“I’m good. Thanks though.” The youngest queen hurried up the steps.

“Love you,” the silver queen called up the stairs. She didn't get a response.

Over the next few days, the other five noticed a difference in Katherine. She held herself in a different esteem. She walked- no more did she bounce around on her tiptoes. She didn’t ask Jane for help with her hair- instead she simply let her hair cascade down her shoulders. In the mornings, she wouldn’t be found in the light grey room- she would be in her own. And when she came down for breakfast, she would reach for the coffee instead of the orange juice or milk Catherine and Jane had set out. She didn’t call Boleyn “Annie”. She didn’t call Seymour “Janey”. No more was the Katherine Howard who would walk out of her bedroom in the morning in pajamas and no makeup, rubbing her eyes as she made her way over to Jane for a good morning kiss on the forehead. The pink haired queen would emerge from her room with her hair and makeup perfectly in place, dressed for the day, and not immediately rushing for her forehead kiss. Katherine was not as excitable as usual, instead forcing a tight lipped smile when she was expected to before going back to a blank expression. The show just didn’t have the same bite that it had before.

“Hey Anne? Do you want to go grocery shopping with me?” Jane asked out of the blue.

“Wait, really?” the green queen practically shouted with surprise. “B-but I’m never allowed to go grocery shopping with you! Can I pick out some of the food?”

“You can pick what we have for dinner, and one other thing that isn’t on the list,” Jane sighed. Taking Anne grocery shopping had stopped promptly after the time the second queen unknowingly filled the cart with junk food the third queen never intended on buying- the third queen only discovering the additions to the cart as they were already in line to checkout. But, she knew there would only be one way to get her predecessor away from the others long enough to uncover any information Anne might have. The green and silver monarchs made their way out the door and into the car when Jane began to interrogate Anne.

“I’m going to get right to the point,” Jane stated bluntly as she pulled out of the driveway. “What’s going on with your cousin?”

“I figured you had an ulterior motive,” Anne laughed before turning serious. “I honestly don’t know. She hasn’t been herself lately.”

“She hasn’t called me Janey since last Tuesday.”

“She hasn’t called me Annie since last Tuesday either.”

“She doesn’t ask me to help her with her hair anymore.”

“She didn’t ask me to fuck around and help her with her political science homework like she usually does.”

“She hasn’t been coming to my room with me at night.”

“She hasn’t?” Anne asked, shocked. “Since when?”

“Last Tuesday.”

“So, something definitely happened last Tuesday. She was fine before the show and during the show, right?”

“Yeah. But when she got home from her car ride with Bella that night, something was off. She didn’t even tell me she loved me when she went to bed that night.” Jane couldn’t help but feel a little hurt.

“I know she’s my cousin and all, but I think maybe you should talk to her. You and her have this whole mum-daughter dynamic going. Maybe she’ll-”

“We what?” The driver slammed on the brake and threw Anne a bewildered look.

“Oh right Janey,” the woman with space buns laughed. “Like you haven’t noticed that the girl practically follows you around like a duckling. Anyway, I think you should talk to her. She tells you more than she tells me at this point.”

“I’m sorry. I can-”

“It’s not like I care. It’s nice seeing Kat have someone mother her for a change.”

“Hm,” Jane sighed. Pulling into a spot and placing the car in park, she stayed seated for a moment, thinking about what Anne had just said.

“Earth to Jane Seymour? Hello?” The green queen waved a hand in front of her face. 

“Sorry hun.” She moved to get out of the car.

“So, can we have mac n cheese for dinner? But like, your homemade mac n cheese? Not that boxed sh-”

“Language Boleyn. We are out in public.”

“Not that boxed... stuff that Kat likes.” The woman in green smiled.

“I suppose,” Jane sighed.

“And I still get to pick out one thing that isn’t on the list, right?”

“Yes Anne, just as long as it’s not something too expensive. One thing.”

The two made their way out of the store in record time amazingly. After a small argument over whether the bulk box of gummy bears was “one thing” or not, the trip went on without a hitch.

“Hi girls, there are a few more bags out in the car if anyone wouldn’t mind helping and getting them for us.” 

“What the hell Anne?” Catherine mumbled as she passed her successor who was struggling to bring in her bulk box of gummy bears.

“I got it Lina.” Katherine made a beeline for the door as she pushed the first queen into the recliner nearby. The pink haired woman came in with every bag in one go.

“You didn’t have to do that honey. Everyone else could’ve helped,” Jane breathed out.

“It’s fine. I can put everything away too. Only fair since you and Anne went grocery shopping for us.” The other women in the room shared knowing glances with each other. The blonde knew it was only a matter of time before she would have to bite the bullet and have a talk with the youngest in the house.

“I can clean up dinner since you cooked Jane.” Katherine went about clearing off the table before going about washing the pots and pans that were used. The other queens shared a knowing glance with Jane before exiting the vaccinity. 

“Thank you for your help today love,” Jane said warmly. “Is it alright if I help out?”

“But you already made dinner.”

“I really don’t mind helping out.”

“But-”

“You wash, and I’ll just dry. Deal?” Kat shrugged but handed the blonde the towel nonetheless.

“I can make dinner tomorrow if you want,” the fifth queen offered. 

“What’s going on hun?” Jane got straight to the point. “I appreciate you helping out and everything, I really do, but you haven’t been yourself since last Tuesday.”

“What do you mean? I’m just picking up on the things I haven’t been doing. Just trying to be more helpful, you know?”

“It’s more than that hun. What’s going on?”

“Just figured I could be a little bit more of an adult, that’s all,” Kat shrugged as she reached for another pan.

“You’re only nineteen hun. You know you’re allowed to be a kid, right?” In reality, Katherine was the one person everyone thought deserved to indulge in childish behaviors. Having had to grow up so young in her past life, she should be able to have a little fun this time around.

“Well, I don’t know. I just figured...” Kat trailed off.

“You’re allowed to just be you hun.”

“It’s not like anyone likes me anyway,” the fifth queen mumbled.

“What was that love?” Jane feigned not knowing what she had spoken. When the pink haired girl didn’t respond, the third queen stopped her from grabbing another pot, making her look at her. “Listen, we’ve all noticed over the past week something is wrong. I mean, you barely come to me for your morning kiss anymore.”

Kat sighed. “Isn’t it kind of childish that I run over to you for a morning kiss?”

“Are you speculating that it’s childish that Catalina, Anne, Anna, and Cathy do the same thing?”

“Well, no. Of course not.”

“So why is it childish for you to do such a thing?” Jane had a point there.

“And I don’t really help out with any of the chores around the house,” the pink queen tried again.

“I don’t know about you, but I see that Anne doesn’t really help either. Or Cathy for that matter, always locked up in her study trying to write. We should really make her come out of there more often,” the silver queen laughed quietly.

“Isn’t it silly that I bounce around places instead of walking?”

“Anne has wheels in her shoes,” Jane countered. “Now, I’ve pretty much pinpointed when something must’ve happened, so be honest with me please honey. What happened on that drive on Tuesday with Bella that’s making you think this way?”

“I-” Kat thought of what she was going to say so that her housemates didn’t go into overprotective mode. “Just some things were said. That’s all.”

“Like?” The blonde waited.

Kat sighed. “So uh, when we usually go on drives, we just sing and sometimes talk.”

“I still don’t know how your voice is so healthy,” the third queen quipped.

“I don’t know either,” Kat let a small smile wash over her face. “But uh, on Tuesday, she spilled her heart out to me. Just told me about all the different things she’s had to deal with and is dealing with now.”

“That’s wonderful that she trusted you enough with that love,” Jane offered an affirmation.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. So, I thanked her for trusting me with that information, and she asked me why I was thanking her. I told her that I know how hard it can be to trust people enough to talk about the really tough times in life. And of course, we both know I know that to the highest degree. And her response was, ‘Hard to trust people in general or hard to trust you because you bounce around like a five year old on campus?’ And you know, those words cut real deep. I know she was trying to make a joke or whatever, but it hurt.”

“Did you tell her it hurt your feelings?”

“Well, you know I’m related to Anne. I don't quite have the Boleyn temper, but the Howard temper isn’t much better, so no. I bit my tongue because if I said anymore than what I did say, I would’ve gone ape shit.”

“What did you tell her?” The older queen decided to ignore the fact that Katherine had just used the expression, ‘ape shit’.

“I just kinda said, ‘Oh, I’m more than capable of being an adult’.”

“How do you actually feel about this?” Jane treaded lightly.

“Why do people think I’m a child unable to live in this world?” She looked to Jane with tears in her eyes. “I’m fully capable of being an adult, and I’m doing so much with my life right now, and people still think I’m an idiot. I’m not an idiot Jane. I’m not.”

“I know that sweetheart.” Jane wrapped the woman up in her arms.

“Do people not understand how damn hard I work to be where I am? I’ve been going through it and barely sleeping because I’m so busy working my ass off. I mean for god’s sake, I’m at the top of my class while starring in a hit musical. Does that not count for something? Do people not understand that for a nineteen year old, I’m doing so much more with my life than most people my age? I’m so much more than just a silly nineteen year old with bright pink hair that bounces around and acts silly. I do that stuff on purpose if we’re being honest here. When push comes to shove, I can be a god damn adult. And I am. And I get shit done.”

“I know you can honey.” The blonde pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re doing wonderful things, and I am so unbelievably proud of you- as well as all of the other girls.”

“I mean, like I know that.” Kat pulled back a bit to look at the silver queen. “But what is it going to take for people to take me as anything other than a joke? Am I just a joke at this point?”

“Oh love,” Jane pulled the younger queen back into her arms. “You are not and were never a joke.”

“Well, I don’t know what people want from me anymore. People don’t like the silly side of me, but people also don’t like the adult side of me. It’s like it’s never enough no matter what I do.”

“We do Kat. you are enough. Every side of you. The “adult serious” side and the silly goofy side- all of it- is enough. I promise you honey. You’re enough, just the way you are.”

“Thank you.” The fifth queen tightened her hold on the blonde.

“Are you going to talk to Bella about your feelings?”

“I mean, maybe. I don’t know. It happened a week ago. Isn’t it kind of pointless to bring it up now?”

“I don’t think so love. You know what they say: you can’t heal if you keep pretending you’re not hurt,” Jane recited back a quote she had seen on social media the other day.

Katherine thought over the older one’s words before nodding. “I guess. But maybe not tonight. Do you think we could just- I don’t know, have a me and you night?”

“I think that’s a great idea hun. Why don’t we finish up these dishes together, and then we can curl up on the couch and watch a disney movie?” the older monarch smiled before she added on quickly, “And no, liking Disney is not childish. I quite enjoy it too, and you wouldn’t call me childish, now would you?”

“You’re the last person I would call childish... aside from maybe Lina.”

[sweetestrequiems]

Okay for the 3 characters: 1. I feel like Jane Seymour from six goes without saying, you give off major mum friend vibes 2. You remind me of Syd from odaat because they're intelligent as well as an excitable hopeless romantic 3. Finally, I think you give off Hermes from hadestown vibes, you're both very smart and protective over people you care about. You're also both amazing storytellers and have both made me cry

Ah yes, more essays. How exciting!

No one’s spared from my essays.

Had you met me... wow, seven to eight years ago when I was starting high school? You would have still seen me acting like this. I’m that gentle-natured towards everyone. Had you met me when I was getting ready to start uni almost three years ago? Still the same gentle-natured person. I think only difference between me and Jane at this point aside from being younger is that I get nervous when I get put on a stage. Fun story ‘bout me really quick: I was considered one of the band moms in marching band during high school. And I was one of the percussion captains. Twas fun taking care of the children, and I was still a senior, so I was IN the band. (Some of ‘em drove me crazy, though... marching band kids are somethin’.)

I love Syd. Literally one of the most relatable characters from One Day at a Time, cause... have you seen me? I am a giant nerd. Like holy smokes, I’m just one friendly nerd and I’m down with that. Also, Syd and Elena are the cutest relationship I’ve seen on a TV show that makes me smile. Just... One Day at a Time as a whole makes me smile because of the representation for Latinx people in general. (BUT LET ME TELL YOU MY LITTLE TAIL IS GLAD TO HAVE SOME NON-BINARY REPRESENTATION. MAKES ME SO HAPPY.)

Now, on the road to hell there was a railroad station... and a man with feathers on his feet, who could help you to your final destination... Mr. Hermes! That’s me!

All jokes and quotes aside, I am honored someone thinks of me as Hermes. Especially because Hermes is not only this link between the world of god and man, but... he’s a powerful narrator. He has this voice that captivates people to tell stories. He knows what to say and how to say it that the tale will go on. And he is beyond wise, too. Have you heard the man’s wisdom? “The dog you really got to dread, is the one that howls inside your head. It's him whose howling drives men mad, and a mind to its undoing.” I aspire to be as wise as Hermes. Though, yes, I am indeed very protective of those I care about, just as Hermes does care about Orpheus since he did raise the lad. 

And I apparently have a way with words that I can make people cry. Either that, or y’all are just suckers for soft stuff. There’s no in between.

[qualquercoisa945]

so uhhh it’s mother’s day here in portugal

and obviously i can’t j u s t post a story so have my designs for the queens’ kids!! some are history based, some aren’t, i just hope you guys like them!! you get some headcanons as well as a bonus uwu

Mary of Aragon

Mama’s girl

All the kids ara mama’s kids, honestly

Pretty fond of Parr and Kitty, although it really did take a while with Kitty

Pretty wary around the others, even tho she can respect Boleyn’s intelligence (but really with those two that’s as far as their relationship goes for a good while)

“Clever as the Devil and twice as pretty” personified

Slytherin, with a hint of Ravenclaw

Femme lesbian

She’d both die and kill for the other kids (although her and Lizzie argue a lot

Mom friend in that “Yeah I’m gonna mother you but I’m not gonna mention it ever and neither are you” way

Eddie jokes that it’s genetic

Lizzie is the only one of the three that has the guts to talk back to her

Scholarship to a really prestigious school (may be an excuse for me to draw her in uniform, who knows), learned to sew so she could have pockets in her skirt

Her and her mum actually argue a lot because they’re both really stubborn, but those fights are usually short lived since they’re usually over small stuff.

Kitty gave her the “M” necklace once they’d talked about their issues in their past life, kind of as a peace offering.

She can resist Kitty’s puppy dog eyes + pout combo (which is honestly an impressive feat) but not Eddie’s or Mae’s

Elizabeth “Lizzie” Boleyn

I dunno why she has this hairstyle but I’m rolling with it

She went to get her hair cut with Anne but she went home on her own and like everyone needed a moment because no one was expecting it

She looks a lot like Anne, except for her hair color (which is like, the exact same as Henry)

If anyone so much as looks wrong as her mum, they’re dead

She and Kitty get along really well honestly

She’s a little wary around Jane, both because of her marrying H**** so soon after Anne died and because of the whole T***** S****** fiasco

Speaking of the fucker, you can bet your ass Anne s n a p p e d when she found out like straight up, she was so fucking mad and it was terrifying

Jane mostly just felt, heartbroken. She knew that her brother wasn’t the nicest person, but she never thought he’d stoop that low

Kitty becomes very protective over her afterwards

T***** (and misogyny in general) is actually the reason she got into sports and became so tom boyish- she’d much rather be comfortable in her own skin than be attractive for people, and what makes her comfortable is being a tom boy

Has called all the queens “mum” at one point or another (something i ended up doing at my teacher while working on her headcanons during english class and still having my mind half in them; thankfully she didn’t notice

Edward “Eddie” Seymour

He’s kind of a jock-in-training if that makes sense. Like he’s not on a team yet but he would be if he were in high school or something

Loves Kitty to bits like she’s his older sister that’s canon sorry I don’t make the rules

He also really looks up to Cleves like he’s lowkey intimidated but at the same time he thinks she’s really cool

Hella protective over Mae, like, Big Brother mode is always on around her

He steals Kitty’s shirts fairly often because they’re slightly too big on him and also have lots of colors and he just loves that uwu

Would die and kill for his mum

Not the best academically but he’s like people smart

He’s pretty serious and acts a lot older than he actually is, but around the girls, especially the other kids, he relaxes and lets himself joke around more

Always getting himself hurt but also has, like, no pain tolerance

Mary “Mae” Parr

So basically,,,,,,,,,, she’s babie

I don’t think the kids are the queens’ biological children in this universe because like, their experiences with men has fucked them all up in one way or another, and also childbirth gives them all (especially Jane and Parr) anxiety

But anyways, the day they went and brought Mae home she was just, laying on Parr’s lap, half asleep, and anyways Parr cried

Parr honestly thought she was gonna be fine meeting Mae, but then they got there and Mae walked over and just quietly went “Mum?” and man a dam broke like straight up

Space nerd

Nerd in general but like, especially space

She likes to hang around Lizzie while she draws, gives her a little bit of peace and quiet and she gets to read and stuff

Generally looks up to the other three a lot