#maybe just run if someone leaves you in a room with Catherine written all over the walls

[bethanydelleman]

Me, having started Wuthering Heights and 3 chapters in: WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THIS BOOK!

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 25

Y/n puts an end to everything.

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

⚠️HUGE⚠️ trigger warnings: rape, drugging, sex trafficking, VERY graphic descriptions of violence, physical violence (please let me know if I leave anything out)

Hannibal could walk through a valley of human suffering and not even flinch. You couldn't tell if that made him subhuman or superhuman. You, however, were just human.

You wanted to be a badass. You wanted to kick the door down and make a scene. But one woman was enough to break you.

She was wearing only a large t-shirt. A cloth bandage covered in blood covered her pubic area like a makeshift pair of underpants. She laid limply against a stone. Her arms were punctured where needles had been.

"I don't..." she mumbled, clearly intoxicated beyond function. "...don't make me..."

You knew you couldn't afford to stop. But compassion kept your feet firmly on the ground in front of her.

"What is Chase making you do?"

"I can't-" She said, pressing her forehead against the rock. "I can't be an unwoman-"

She began to slam her head against the rock with clear intent to take her own life. Without thinking, you grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her into the grass. She sobbed, a bloody, but thankfully, survivable, gash on her forehead.

"Tell me your name." You demanded, squeezing her shoulders.

"...Tiffany." She said with a sudden lucidity.

The name unlocked a memory in you. It was the still image of a sunny young girl, immortalized on a faded missing person's ad hung up at the grocery store. Tiffany Rose Pierce, it read.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, Tiffany." You whispered. "I'm gonna get all of you out of here."

"Vanguard won't like that." She said, slipping back into a state of minimal consciousness.

"Stay here." You instructed, pushing yourself back to your feet.

You readied your gun and slowly, carefully pushed the cabin door open. Suddenly, the stained glass window was the least of your worries.

The entire area was lined with cheaply-constructed bunk beds, like an overgrown henhouse. Women with distinctively long hair were shackled to the lower bunks. Their shaven counterparts, the unwomen, were forced to be the slavedrivers. They held the chained women down.

You heard the rattling of chains coming from the right. It was accompanied with screaming and wet slapping.

"Take daddy's cock you filthy fucking broodmare." A familiar voice grunted.

The only way you could look at him was behind the barrel of your gun. He was exactly how you pictured him while listening to his voice in the car. Unremarkable, middle-aged and serpentine.

"Pastor Armitage!" You yelled.

To hear someone call him by his title in the midst of violating a person was enough to send him into a panic. He sputtered and his entire face turned red.

He didn't suffer for long, though. A 12 gauge shell right through the face took care of that. Fragments of his head, his blood and brain matter splattered everywhere. His knees buckled and his limp body collapsed.

The room fell silent. Smoke trickled out of your barrel.

"Where's fucking Chase?" You asked the room.

Someone weakly pointed up the stairs. You met her eyes and nodded.

"Sorry about the mess."

Now you knew how Hannibal felt. Blowing someone's head off made you acutely aware of your own head on your shoulders. You held it higher. You felt no remorse as you ascended the staircase with your gun blazing.

You came across a room with some words etched in the door. 'Skin room'. You launched your foot squarely into the door, causing it to violently swing open. 

You examined the room from behind the gun. Chase had done a hell of a job dressing up this cheap cabin bedroom like a hotel suite, but the smell hit you before you could be fooled. A brick chimney, a wine cooler and a mahogany desk were positioned so the eye would gravitate towards the luxury while the nose picked up the brutality. The stained glass window was suspended in front of the real window, absorbing the mid-morning light and giving the room an eerie sepia tint. 

You cocked your gun to announce your presence. You heard the sound of running water, and then a side door swung open. 

“You’ll forgive me a couple minutes to freshen up.” Chase said, shaking his hands dry. “Cleanliness is close to godliness, after all.” 

You said nothing. You didn’t want to dignify him with a conversation. 

He bent over and pulled a bottle of wine from his cooler. He placed it squarely on the desk. You looked at it, then did a double take. He grinned sadistically. 

“Is that...” You leaned in to get a closer look. “1907 Heidsieck Monople Gout?” 

Chase shrugged. “You tell me. You’re the wine expert.” 

You’d heard many a conflicting story about the legendary 1907 Heidsieck. Some said as many as 2,000 bottles were pulled up from the depths of the freezing Baltic sea. Some said a single bottle could go for half a million dollars. With that kind of precedent, you never thought you’d ever have to worry about it. Yet, there it was. Right in front of you. 

“I’m saving it for a special occasion.” Chase said, suddenly reminding you where you were.

You returned to your gun. “For when you kill me?” 

“For when I save you.” Chase smiled, his unnaturally white teeth glistening in the sepia light. “See, Miss [F/N], you survived two of my attempts on your life. God has smiled down on you.” 

“Or, maybe,” You interrupted. “You’re just horrible at killing.” 

Chase raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"A knife through the hand hurts like a bitch, but it isn't fatal." You shrugged. "And you didn't do a good enough job beating the fear of death out of Catherine. Else she might have actually gone through with it. Maybe if you'd sent Tiffany-"

"God loves you." Chase interrupted before you could poke more holes in his attempts on your life. "Why you're still alive when so many less deserving of death have died is beyond me, but god works in mysterious ways, doesn't he?"

"She sure does." You smirked.

Chase cleared his throat. You'd pegged him as the type to get irrationally angry at the implication of god being a woman, so his reaction surprised you.

"Well, let's get down to business, shall we?" He gestured to a seat across from him.

You narrowed your eyes. "I don't think so."

"Pity." He pouted. "Not even for poor Mr. Graham?"

It dawned on you that he probably still thought he had Will, and you could use it to your advantage.

You held your gun at your side and hesitantly sat down in the seat. A gluttonous smile spread across Chase's face.

"So it wasn't wine after all." He said. "It wasn't even your own life. You're only willing to save your soul for the sake of your precious Will Graham."

"What do you care?" You growled through your teeth. "This is just a power grab for you. You wouldn't know what genuine empathy for another person feels like."

He grinned, as if someone had just flipped his 'on' switch. "Jesus does."

"Did Jesus use his influence to lure teenage girls into a sick breeding ring?" You sneered. "I don't remember that from VeggieTales."

"Genesis 1:28." Chase said. "And God blessed them, and God said unto them, be fruitful, and multiply."

"I suppose you also don't eat shellfish or wear mixed fabrics." You rolled your eyes.

"It's always the same arguments from you atheists." Chase scoffed, adding a distinct bite to the last word. "When are you going to show some actual proof that the bible isn't an infallible model for human morality?"

"Maybe when you stop eating shellfish and wearing mixed fabrics." You repeated.

"They are minor sins at best." Chase grimaced. "I have gotten right with Jesus. You, on the other hand, oh, you. Your sins are weighty."

"I did just blast a rapist's head off." You admitted. "And it's going to be two very soon if this one doesn't get to the fucking point."

"I know about your exploits." He squinted. "With Mr. Graham and the man with the Nazi accent."

"He's actually from Lithuania, which, if you wanna be technical," you corrected, just for the sake of being annoying. "Is an ex-Soviet state, but whatever."

Chase tensed up at being corrected. "I know about your hedonistic sexual activities with two men, your exploration. But in the bible, Satan approaches these two people called Adam and Eve..."

"No he didn't." You shook your head. "It was a serpent. The devil wasn't a concept when Genesis was written."

Chase gritted his teeth. "God made one man and one woman. Each to fill each other's sexual desires, within the context of marriage, entirely-"

"But Adam had two spouses, didn't he?" You cocked your head and smiled. "Eve wasn't even the first woman in Adam's life. That was Lilith."

Chase heaved a frustrated sigh. "How do you know that?!"

"I was raised catholic." You said in the tonal equivalent of smacking him upside the head. "I was forced into religion at a young age and brainwashed to hate myself."

"See, that's where we agree." Chase tented his hands, thinking he found a genuine point of connection. "Organized religion is a cancer on society. Christianity is fundamentally about a relationship with god."

You laughed. It was the first real, good laugh you had in a while.

"Don't laugh." He scolded. "I am sorry that that was your experience with religion and that the Catholic church modeled a false teaching of who god is and what he wants. Not all christians-"

You wiped a tear from your eye. "Homie, you killed four people in front of me."

He placed his hand over his heart. "And christ forgave me. And he can forgive you too."

"Alright, this has been fun and everything," you said, standing up. You aimed your shotgun and cocked it. "But, I did come here to kill you, so, open wide."

Chase put his hand squarely over the barrel and pushed it out of the way. "You don’t have the guts to pull the trigger."

You pulled the trigger and blasted his hand clean off. Any hope of reattachment was shattered, as bits of his hand painted the walls and floor.

You opened the gun and let the two empty shells fall to the ground while Chase screamed in agony.

Instead of going through the motions of reloading, you smashed him over the head with the gun. He wrapped his good hand around the barrel and attempted to wrestle it away from you. You took this as an invitation to corner him against the wall with the still-hot barrel against his neck. He smashed his forehead into your nose, sending you tumbling backwards.

The shotgun fell to the ground. You pinched the bridge of your nose to control the blood flow. Chase wrapped a champagne towel around his stump and picked up a small revolver on his desk. He let off a shot, which lodged itself into your shoulder. By the time he let off the second shot, you were on the ground. The third shot didn't fire, just let out a flash and a bang.

"Goddamn blanks!" He cursed.

He tore open a drawer and rummaged around for bullets, giving you a window to come up from behind and gouge your fingers into his eyes. He screamed, dropping a handful of bullets. He flailed aimlessly, then charged backwards, slamming you into the cheap drywall.

He felt around for the bullets without the advent of eyesight. You knew you wouldn't be able to take aim with your shotgun with a bullet lodged in your shoulder, so you dove for the revolver.

Chase grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you down. You hit the floor with a thud, the collision making the bullets jump. Chase grinned, using the sound to place them. He turned around and reached for one, while you scooped up another that had rolled under the desk.

You scrambled to your feet. Chase's hand was just centimeters from the revolver. Thinking fast (but not so thoroughly), you grabbed for the revolver. You wrapped your hand around the barrel, putting yourself at a disadvantage if he fired off another blank.

Chase, however, wasn't that forward-thinking, and opted for a childish game of tug-of-war instead. Knowing he had the brute strength advantage, you waited for him to pull back and released your grip. Chase tumbled, cursing on his way down.

With no thought on your mind but ending this, you launched your foot into his sack, causing him to scream and drop the gun.

Just as you thought it was over, just when the gun was in arm's reach, he kicked your knees backwards and you fell. You swallowed the pain and army crawled for the revolver.

"I don't think so." Chase spat, smiling like a maniac. He grabbed your face with his good hand and his fingers slithered down your throat.

"Choke..." he demanded. "Choke, demoness."

Strengthened by animalistic instinct, you crushed his fingers under your teeth. The sound of snapping bone filled the inside of your head and a sudden rush of blood flooded into your mouth. He withdrew his hand, leaving a finger behind to limply fall down your throat.

You coughed and gagged while Chase screamed. A single bloody digit dislodged itself from your windpipe, flew across the room and landed on the desk.

Chase sputtered something resembling a laugh. "Maybe you're not such a dumb bitch after all."

You grabbed the gun and pushed yourself up with the help of the desk. The finger stared up at you as you loaded the single bullet.

You positioned the finger onto the trigger and guided it with your gloved hand. Then you aimed it at his forehead. Dead by his gun, by his trigger finger. Bleeding on the ground in his private bunker while the empire he built collapses around him. A coward's death. It was poetic enough an end as he deserved.

"You want to say a prayer before you meet god?" You offered.

"My soul is saved." Chase said through ragged breaths. "My place in heaven is secured."

Bang. One bullet, right between the eyes. A bloody fingerprint on the pistol. You dropped the revolver and collapsed. You just laid there, listening to your phone buzz.

[h50europe]

Why the ending of the series finale felt off for many of us (and what PL could have had really in mind) - Aphorisms

As you can easily see from the photos, season 11 was a safe bet, as was a new team member, McCole. What could have been, it says, written by Justin, the wife of Alex stunt/stand-in double. I'm going to play the advocatus diaboli.

In the penultimate episode of H50, Lenkov created a new character. He was sort of based on Steve, but also not. As it turned out in the last episode, Cole and Steve also had a mutual friend: Catherine. Why does that not really surprise us? The rumor mill was really churning, and it was a given that PL was definitely going to bring her on board. So, without further ado, he made her a key person. She was the one who cracked the ominous code that Doris had left for her son. Question, couldn't Jerry have done that just as well?

Anyway, PL set up Cole and Steve. But the chemistry - for us - wasn't really there. They could have just as easily put anyone next to Steve. PL built on the military past of the two (what else) and finally the common denominator: Catherine. Oh, how original. NOT. If you look at this constellation, you can already guess where this was going. But there remained this one obstacle: Danny.

Well, no problem, Lenkov thought and had him kidnapped without further ado. All planned because of all the great McDanno moments we got to see in season 10. So appropriately for lulling, even if these moments did not have nearly as much heart as in previous seasons, but hey, the fans would swallow and relish it, PL thought.

Then came the obligatory threatening call from Daiyu Mei (note the clever pun ala Yoda: die you may...), and the drama unfolded. The whole thing was further clarified by the words of Wo Fat's ex: "I have the person you care about most in the world." Bummer, as she is not talking about Catherine but Danny. Queerbaiting at its worst. Then comes the usual. And during the escape attempt, Danny, who is already half-dead, gets shot. So far, so good, or not.

Danny's injuries could have easily been fatal. So now I'm going off the premise and just claiming that this was PL's original plan. Why? PL did mention at one point that he could imagine H50 without Steve or Danny, but he certainly wasn't stupid enough to believe that. It was nothing more than a smoke grenade. But what PL had wanted for a long time was the end of McDanno. He preferred another ship. But while McDanno sailed blithely across the seven seas, PL's fav ship never left the harbor. But now, he had the ultimate opportunity with a new, equal partner at Steve's side (Book'em Cole), who also pulled Catherine out of a hat.

PL's heart did somersaults. What a great plan that was. Alex didn't say anything about really wanting to quit, even after the series ended. While he had been open about his departure after season 7, there was no need to hide this fact now in season 10. And as you can easily see, all signs were pointing toward season 11. What PL didn't count on was the massive resistance from CBS.

In contrast to PL, they had no problems with Scott/Danny or McDanno. They knew that this was the heart and soul of the show. And PL's protector Moonves was no longer available because he had been kicked out of the network. So PL's back was against the wall. And nothing and nobody could change that. Too bad, because actually, PL had everything perfectly planned.

Danny would either die on the way to the hospital or later in the hospital. This would lead Steve to a massive revenge attack, which should have ended in a brilliant showdown (brilliant for PL, not necessarily for the fans), but Daiyu Mei escapes eventually. Then, Steve would have been driving around aimlessly. We were possibly shown some flashbacks, only to end up at Casa McGarrett, where Catherine would have already been waiting for him. Nice reversal of the goodbye scene from season 6.

The conversation between Steve and her would have been similar to Danny's, except that it wouldn't have been about his parents, but about Danny and that he just can't take it in Hawaii any longer. Too much reminds him of his dead friend. Steve also wanted to pay his final respect and bring him back home to Jersey. Of course, Catherine suggests joining him. What else? Now that one ship sunk, PL could easily replace it with HIS fav ship. And because Cole has done so well, Steve also entrusts him with the task force's leadership. Before Steve leaves to accompany Danny on his last journey, he hands Cole his credentials.

Steve and Cath stand next to each other at the airport and watch as Danny's coffin is loaded onto the plane. Then they board the plane together, ending with them holding hands as we know it. Fade out, season 10 ends.

How would it have continued in season 10? Danny's funeral would have happened off-screen, like so many other pivotal scenes. Steve would have maybe spent an episode or two mulling it over and then returned to Hawaii to hunt down Daiyu Mei with Cole and the team, which now included Catherine.

So much for Lenkov's wet dream, um, plan. However, because CBS knew that McDanno was the heart and soul of the series, they found this idea more than lousy and turned PL down. We could imagine that Alex also threw in that he would certainly not continue without Scott. There was a short back and forth, and it was decided to cancel the show. So we've come full circle to the sloppy, heartless execution of the last episode and the absolutely meaningless words PL put in Steve's mouth as a result. Due to lack of creativity and apparent lack of time, the deadline seemed to be predetermined, considering how quickly the soundstages at Diamond Studios were obliterated.

The crew was equally surprised when PL succinctly informed them that there would be no season 11. See the post from an angry crew member on IG.

Can we prove any of this? Nope, but it's the only reasonable explanation for why the show ended the way it did. Namely, completely illogical, with a Steve who was more than just off the rails. At the very beginning of the series, Steve gives completely different reasons for staying. If you do a rewatch, you'll see.

Everybody knows that you don't solve problems by running away. You don't get rid of the weight that you carry around with you. Steve may be a stubborn mule, but one thing he has never been: self-centered. And if Danny was really the most important thing in the world to him, as Mei said, then he wouldn't have dumped him in the end. Because that's what you do when you really love someone, you stay and fight against all odds. Especially when someone is in a bad place, like Danny, who has just jumped from the brink of death.

You don't suddenly go on a self-realization trip and kick the person who's already lying on the ground. But that's exactly what Steve did. At least the way PL wrote the part. The man must have really lost it when he wrote those lines. I'm sure he was enjoying pure schadenfreude.

And if you take a close look at the two protagonists, you can clearly see the reluctance with which they shared it all with the audience. There was no more room for any affectionate ad-lib actions that we knew from before. They could only stubbornly reel off what was in the script. PL would have done well to sit down with Scott and Alex and find a common solution instead of imposing his version on them and the audience. That's what people with integrity do, but the man never any.

In our opinion, the show's ending ranks among the dumbest and most unimaginative of all time. Rarely a person manages to drive a show against the wall in such a way and at the same time assassinated the main characters. PL shouldn't be proud of it. He should rather stand in a corner and be ashamed of himself.

And now you can go ahead and bash us, or just ignore the whole thing and keep on scrolling. Thank you for your time and for letting us share our thoughts with you.

[crayonwriting]

01 - Mamma Mia

Summary: Maiko just wanted her good ol’ dad to walk her down the aisle. So, she invited the three men from your past in hopes of meeting him. The only problem was, which one of them is it?

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader, Bokuto Koutarou x Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Disclaimer: This is based on the movie directed by Phyllida Loyd and written by Catherine Johnson which is inspired by the music of the pop group ABBA.

catch up here!

"Kuroo-san?"

The said man looked up from his desk to his secretary. He was buried deep in paperwork; his sleeves rolled up to his elbows; coat off. He raised an eyebrow in question. The secretary walked into his office and handed him a cream-coloured envelope with a waxed seal. Kuroo flipped the envelope over and there at the back of it was his name, written in perfect penmanship.

“What is this?”

“Came in the mail today. It looks like an invitation of some sort.” The secretary bowed in respect and went out of the room. Kuroo was naturally curious. Without wasting any second he opened the envelope carefully and pulled out its contents. A neatly folded piece of paper was in between his fingers along with a simple, yet elegantly, designed card with the names Umeda Minoru and Obara Maiko, on it.

“A wedding?” He had said out loud. He couldn’t recall knowing anyone with those names. Although, the last name Obara sounded familiar. And he couldn’t even remember any of his friends getting married soon. He flipped open the paper and read the letter.

Hi Tetsurou!

I know it’s been a long time but I hope you can come to Maiko-chan’s wedding. It will be held in Kalokairi. Remember the small island we used to go to?

I hope you can make it.

From, 

Y/N

His heart skipped a small beat as he read your name at the bottom. That’s why the last name was familiar. Obara Y/N. He hasn’t heard anything from you for how many years and now, out of the blue, you invite him to a random girl’s—a relative, maybe? Was she your cousin?—wedding on the island where it all started. Maybe that’s why you invited him? Because the island reminded you of him.

No. That can’t be right. From what he knows, you hated his guts. Hated it since the moment he left you there. But if you were inviting him to a wedding, could it mean that you’re not mad anymore? 

With his mind going miles a minute, he checked the date on the invitation and called his secretary back in to book the soonest flight.

—

Bokuto slipped his shades on as he walked through the docks. He waved at the other boat owners as he passed by them. The sun felt warm on his skin and he just knew that this was gonna be a good day. When he reached his spot, he smiled widely, beaming at the vessel in front of him. 

"Good morning, sunshine." He greeted no one in particular. He hopped onto the deck of his beloved sailboat, running his fingers on the grabrail. He picked up the ropes lying on the ground and prepared the boat for voyage. "We're going on a trip for a few days, my sweet."

Patting his pocket, he pulled out the slightly crumpled envelope out of it. He couldn't help smiling down at the invitation in his hand. It was a bit peculiar to get a letter from you—a wedding invitation no less!—after how many years. Your brief...meeting with him only lasted for a week and yet Bokuto yearned for your presence even after that. 

Sure he's been with his fair share of women over the years but, there was no one quite like you if he had to be honest. Looking back down at the invitation, he was glad it wasn't your wedding you were inviting him to. He couldn't help but think of the 'what ifs' once he gets there…

Excitement pulsing through his veins, he prepared to set off into the sea, back to Greece.

—

"Aeropuerto por favor. Rápido." Oikawa told the cab driver as he got on. The driver understood immediately, despite Oikawa's accent. Soon enough, they were zooming through the city of Buenos Aires. He checked his bag for his passport, wallet and phone. He also caught a glimpse of the envelope he got just two days ago. He hesitated in the slightest before deciding to pull it out and re-reading the letter.

Y/N…., he had thought to himself. If there was one thing Oikawa couldn’t let go of it was volleyball. But if you were thrown into the equation, he just might give it up for you. He didn’t even know what had happened; he just met you one day and boom, he was in love. He loved you with all of his heart and he was willing to follow you wherever you wanted to go. But alas, after that one night, you just decided to disappear, leaving a small note. 

He doesn’t really know why he had said yes to this wedding. He doesn’t know what to expect when he finally gets to Kalokairi. Closure? Rekindling with an old flame? He huffed out, dismissing the idea. Only one thing is for certain: he wanted to see you. So bad.

Letting out a deep sigh, he placed the envelope back in his bag. His palms started growing sweaty at the thought of seeing you in a matter of hours.

—

A shrill scream echoed throughout the docks, catching the attention of the locals. Maiko ran at a fast pace, meeting her friends halfway, who had just got off the small motorboat from the mainland. She got to her friend Nana first,—who was the tallest in their friend group—picking up her tiny frame and spinning her in a hug. She turned to Eri—the toughest of the bunch—and gave her a hug so tight. When they parted, a soft glint on Maiko’s hand caught her friends’ eyes. 

“Maiko-chan!” Nana gushed. She held Maiko’s left hand in hers and there, a small, elegant ring sat on her ring finger, shining under the strong rays of the sun. 

“I’m jealous!” Eri pouted jokingly. “Now, I want one.”

Maiko blushed, trying to cover her face. “Stop it! I’m getting married in a few days!” She squealed in excitement. The three girls picked up the luggages and walked up the dock. Maiko wrapped her arms around both of her friends, feeling giddier than ever.

“I’m so glad you’re both here because…,” she paused, the smile on her face growing, “I have a secret.” Nana and Eri looked at each other. Their eyes grew wide in realization and knelt in front of Maiko. 

“Maiko-chan! You’re already pregnant?!” Eri shrieked. Maiko laughed loudly and dismissed the thought.

“No, no, no! It’s not that.” She grew quiet for a moment, pulling her friends closer. “I invited my dad to the wedding.”

“You’re kidding!”

“You finally found him?”

“Uhh, not exactly.” Her friends were confused. She smiled and led them to a nearby rock by the end of the docks where they sat down. She breathed out a sigh, “You know what my mom says whenever I ask about my dad. They met in the summer, fell in love, but my dad left even before she realized she was pregnant with me. All these years, I’ve accepted that that’s all I’ll never know about him.

“But then,” she rummaged through the tote bag she brought with her, pulling out an old, worn journal. “I found this.” she said, proud.

“What is it?” Eri asked.

“It’s my mom’s old diary the year she was pregnant with me.”

“Oh my god!” Eri sat closer to Maiko as she opened the journal. “So we’re really gonna read Y/N-obasan’s journal?”

“Oh shush.” Nana dismissed, sitting on Maiko’s right side.

“July seventeenth,” Maiko started. “Kuroo—Tetsurou as he insisted to be called—rowed me over to the little island. That’s here, Kalokairi. He took me on a small picnic by the beach. We danced under the moonlight by the beach. He kissed me by the beach and…,” Maiko trailed off. Nana and Eri waited.

“And what?” Nana asked.

“That’s it. They did it.” Maiko wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Nana and Eri burst out laughing. She smiled and continued reading, “Tetsurou’s the one for me. I just know it. I’ve never felt love like this before.”

“So, this Kuroo-san is your father?” Nana questioned. Maiko eyed her, silently telling her that there was more to the story.

“For the time that we’ve been together, Tetsurou has said he loves me, several times. But now, he’s announced that he’s actually engaged. He just left earlier this morning to get married and...I’m never gonna see him again.”

“Aww, poor obasan.” Nana pouted, sympathizing you.

The three of them continued their trek up the island, while Maiko continued to read out loud the contents of the journal.

“August fourth, what a night! I met someone. Bokuto Koutarou. He was vacationing around the mainland, visiting his aunt. I passed by and everything clicked. He rented a motorboat, so I took him to the little island. Even though I know that I’m still in love with Tetsurou, Kou is just so...WILD!” The trio widened their eyes at the comment. “One thing led to another and…”

“So there’s a Bokuto-san as well?” Maiko just grinned excitedly and continued.

“August eleventh, Oikawa Tooru appeared out of the blue. I saw him struggling to order food from a restaurant so I helped him out. He was on a layover for a flight to Buenos Aires that got delayed for a few days. So I said, why not show him the island. He was so sweet and understanding. And he’s so pretty too! Oh! I couldn’t help it! And…”

They’ve finally reached the top of the island where your villa was. You ran a small hotel on the island, which wasn’t as successful as you thought it would be seeing as there weren’t many tourists and not many people knew about the island itself. Nevertheless, you were able to care for Maiko and that was all that mattered.

“Oh my god!” Eri squealed. “Y/N-obasan was so adventurous wasn’t she?”

“I can’t blame her. I mean have you seen her? She looks good even now!” Nana sighed. A bustling sound was heard from the entrance of the villa, with you appearing not seconds later, a broom in hand. You glanced in their direction. You did a double-take when you saw your daughter’s friends, waving at you. Maiko quickly hid the journal behind her back.

“Oh! You’re here already!” You set the broom by the wall, wiping your hands down on your old overalls. “It’s been so long!”

Nana and Eri walked over to you. You engulfed them in tight hugs and sweet kisses on their cheeks. You held Eri’s face in your palms, brushing her hair away from her face. You turned to Nana, placing a hand on her cheek.

“Look at the both of you! You’re practically all grown up! I remember when you were all wreaking havoc around here.” You beamed at them, proud. “And you look like you’re already having fun!”

“We are!” Eri cheered. You hummed in response. Your mind went somewhere else for a quick moment—a memory—and you mumbled,

“I used to have fun, too.”

“Oh, we know.” Nana quipped. Maiko pinched her arm subtly. You eyed them suspiciously, not really hearing what Nana had said which Maiko was thankful for. 

“Well, I better leave you all to it. I know you have some bridesmaids duties to get to. I’ll see you all later.” You picked up your broom again and disappeared further into the villa.

When they were sure you were gone, the trio breathed out a sigh of relief. Maiko led them to her room for the moment as her friends’ belongings were getting checked into their respective rooms. They rushed inside, away from listening ears and wandering eyes.

“So, who is it?” Nana asked. “Is it Tetsurou-san, Bokuto-san or Oikawa-san?”

Maiko just shrugged her shoulders, laying down on her bed. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” Eri interjected. “Who did you invite?”

Maiko just looked at them expressively. Her smile grew wider as her friends finally realized what she had done. Eri and Nana screamed. They jumped up and down in excitement—and disbelief—at their friend. They knew how impulsive Maiko was but this was just a bit too much, wasn’t it?

“Do they know?” Nana’s eyes had widened.

Maiko rolled her eyes at her. “Of course not. Do you think I can just write to them and say, ‘Please come to my wedding. You might be my father.’? No.” She shook her head. “They think that mom sent the invite. And with what we’ve learned today, they all said yes!”

—

Kuroo was panting heavily as he stared at the ferry not too far from the jetty, buzzing away to Kalokairi. He cursed under his breath kicking at the ground. A few seconds later, another man was beside him, panting just as he was, staring at the ferry. 

“Shit.” Oikawa muttered. Kuroo scoffed and nodded in agreement.

“I know.” He said. Oikawa turned to look at Kuroo, eyeing him up and down. They trudged back to the ticketing booth and checked the schedule for the next available ferry.

“I don’t speak Greek.” Oikawa groaned, not understanding a single thing on the board.

“Deftera.” Kuroo read out loud. “Monday.” 

“Ah, shit.” Oikawa cursed. He hastily opened his bag and pulled out the invitation, checking the date of the wedding. This catches Kuroo’s eyes.

So, he’s here for the wedding too, huh. He thought to himself. “Bride or groom?” He asked the man. Oikawa looked at him, startled. It took him a moment to realize that Kuroo was also going to Kalokairi for the wedding.

“Oh, bride’s.” Oikawa answered. “Although, I haven’t actually met her.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” A loud voice called. “Up here!” Bokuto called, as he was sitting atop of the mast of his boat which was docked near the jetty. Kuroo and Oikawa looked at him, confused. 

“You guys need a ride to Kalokairi?”

taglist: @yikes-buddy​ / @ushi-please​ / @melodiamore​ / @akaashi-todoroki / @honeymoneyy​ / @minty-mangos-world​ /

a/n: thank you so much for all the support (despite me just posting the masterlist.) i’ve re-read and edited this first chapter a lot of times and i hope i’ve met your first expectations for this series. lemme tell you that first chapters are the hardest to do. i apologize if some characters seem out-of-character or weird, especially my OCs. i’m not used to OCs since i’ve only ever written reader inserts. stil, i hope you love them as much as i do!

i actually have no idea how i’m gonna steer this story so, here’s to winging it. haha! leave some comments! i love you all!

[lebguardians]

This will be the first “story” I’ve ever written. Woke up today kinda of wanting to write but definitely scared 😂. Don’t know if this would even go anywhere. I love Charles Brandon’s character development in the Tudors and there isn’t many fanfics on his character so I figured I’d give it a go? Maybe?

Warnings: angst, fluff, eventual smut, feel free to message me if you feel I should add some.

I don’t have a title idea, so if someone does after reading it let me know and I’ll definitely give you credit.

The Lady Y/N Windhelm was sent to court after the rebellion in the north to make sure her father, the Duke of Windhelm, stayed loyal. Y/N never agreed with the rebellion against His Majesty, she begged and pleaded with her father to stop his part in the rebellion. When the fighting was done and over, the only reason he wasn’t hanged as a traitor was because her father was good friend’s with King Henry’s father.

Forever branded as the traitors daughter, Y/N did everything she could to blend in with the crowd towards the back at some feast she was forced to attend. She was a shy girl, not that she had anyone to talk to if she could. No one wanted to be associated with her. It was no surprise she was unwed either. Standing at 5’1, she was a slim woman, dark brown hair that reached her bottom, fair skin, blue eyes. Currently she was pressed against a wall, almost trying to blend it with it as to not be seen, her long hair thrown up into a simple hairstyle, and wearing the plainest dress she owned. She prayed no one recognized her.

She looks around the crowd with a sigh. The king with his wife were at the high table laughing and eating, both of whom were surrounded by His Majesty’s counsel. All seemed to be having a good time besides the King’s best friend, the Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon. He seemed to be in the middle of another argument with his wife.

Feeling the air getting too hot, Y/N decided to take a step outside to get some fresh air and maybe sneak away back to her room. If she had it her way. She would stay there with her books and needlework. Y/N stepped toward the edge of a balcony and leaned over, enjoying the feeling of the cool spring breeze on her flushed face. She hated wearing these cursed dresses. They are so hot and uncomfortable. She lost herself in though looking out to the trees. She longed to return to the north. The rolling green hills, the sea, riding on her horse for hours, mostly until the moon was high in the sky. She smilied faintly at the memory of her father being so enraged when she came back way too late for his liking. His face beat red with anger and worry. Then the horror passing through his face when he noticed she was wearing trousers before shaking his head and letting out a deep laugh at his only daughter’s shananigans. Y/N missed him deeply.

Y/N was lost to her thoughts and lost track of time. She startled suddenly when a door slammed behind her. She quickly turned and saw the Duke of Suffolk. He looked very angry, his jaw clinched, fists balled up. He looks up and noticed that he startled Y/N. The Duke had brought her back to court on His majesty’s orders. Quite literally kicking and screaming for her father. The sound of her screams stayed with the Duke. The Duke sighed deeply and said,

“Forgive me, my lady. I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

Y/N curtsied, her body beginning to fill with rage at the sight of the Duke. She swore to herself that she would never forgive him for ripping her away from her home and family. “Your Grace.” She replied stiffly. “I was just leaving” she quickly walked past him, wanting nothing more than to run to her room and shake the memories away. The Duke stepped to the side letting her pass, a guilty look passing through his handsome face. The Duke let out a sigh, wiping a hand over his beard. The Dutchess informing him eariler that she was returning to Suffolk with their son and not returning. Rolling his eyes at their argument. He didn’t blame her. Not really. He loved her deeply but he know she would never love him again.

He walked to the edge of the balcony where Lady Y/N stood earlier. He know she was miserable. Who could blame her. He begged for his friend to reconsider bringing her here. He know court would not be kind to the girl. Charles heard the gossip about her around court. The horrids things said to her and behind her back. He heard her soft cries when he passed her room. Taking a deep drink of his wine, he stood straight and headed back into the hall.

Lady Y/N was making her way back to her room, praying no one would see her tears. She heard a group of the Queen’s maidens, laughing about her. Saying thing like she would never find a husband and eventually the King would be bored with her embarrassment and send her to a convent. She finally reached her room and quickly started shedding the layers of her dress, before dressing into something comfortable for the night. She fell asleep crying.

6 months later.

Charles Brandon grew increasingly worried about Y/N. It was noticeable that she has lost quite a bit of weight and that she barley eats a thing, only leaving her room when commanded. Her face has lost all its color and then circles under her eyes quite noticeable. The Queen, Jane Seymour, taking notice as well.

The Queen was kind to Y/N. Most mornings breaking fast with her in private as to not spark more rumors. She worried about her greatly and has tried to persuade the king to send her home with no luck. When she was finally able to get Y/N to open up and talk, y/n spoke often for her love of the north and how much she missed it and her father.

After eating his food, Charles decided to talk to the king about sending y/n back. He worried she would get sickly and die and didn’t want another death on his already heavy conscience. He walked to the king’s quarters.

“His Grace, the Duke of Suffolk”, he heard the groomsmen announce.

“Ah Charles, I was just going to send for you, come sit” the king stated joyfully.

Charles raised an eyebrow at the king’s joyful mood. “His majesty seems to be in a good mood today.” He noted. The king smirked before handing him a letter. Charles furrowed his eyebrows, opened the letter, quickly reading it. His head snapped up to the king, he ran a hand through his grown out curls, and then ran a hand down his face.

“Forgive me, your majesty, but I’m confused” his mind was racing. A million different thoughts running through it. The king finding a loophole, allowing Charles to divorce his wife and marry again if he so chooses. Catherine made it quite clear she wouldn’t love him again nor would allow him to bed her. The King was able to use this and allow for a divorce on the grounds that Her Grace wouldn’t fullfill her duties.

“What’s there to be confused about Charles, it’s clear your miserable. You don’t smile nor joke as you used to my friend. I worry for you” the King replied, taking a bite of some foreign fruit Charles hasn’t seen before. “In any case it’s done and now settled. You are no longer married to Catherine. Don’t think I haven’t already noticed you eyeing another. A certain lady of Windhelm” the king said with a smirk on his face.

A shocked look passed over the Duke of Suffolk’s face. “Your majesty, it’s not like that at all. I’m concerned for the girl. She’s gotten quite sickly and depressed. I came here today to beg of your mercy and allow her to return home.”

A very angry look passed over the king’s face as he stood up. “I’ve already made it quite clear to my wife that I won’t tolerate in meddling and that includes the you as well Charles. The girl is staying here as assurance her father won’t rebel again. They are both lucky I didn’t take their heads. The only mercy she’s getting is me allowing her to marry and not be sent off to some convent.”

Charles was getting very irritated and seeing where the king was going with this. “So what, you’ll force the poor girl to marry me, making her even more miserable? She won’t marry me. I’m the one who ripped her from her home and family and everything she’s ever known. She can’t even look at me without running scared. Forcing me to marry into yet another unhappy marriage? What game are you playing at?”

The king was enraged and slammed his fist down and began yelling. “You’ll marry the girl and that’s the end of it. You remember, you owe me after what you pulled with my sister, Charles. I may have forgiven you but I haven’t forgotten. You will marry her and ensure her loyalty to me and secure that her family remains loyal. The north looks to her family for whatever reason. If they stay loyal the rest will fall in line.” The king stood and stormed out the room. Neither of them realizing some of the Queen’s maidens overheard them arguing about this and decide to make their way to y/n.

Charles stormed out. Everyone moving out of his way seeing just how angry he is. He paced his quarters, his curls a mess from him running his hands through them so often out of frustration. How would he be able to break the news gently to y/n? What he didn’t realize was the women that overheard already telling y/n for no reason other than to be jealous over the fact they werent able to marry the handsome Duke.

Y/n was sitting under a tree working on a needlework, enjoying the sunny spring day for once. She decided to take the Queen’s advice and get out of her room. She was depressed and very home sick. She knew her dresses didn’t fit as they did before and she didn’t have much of an appetite. The Queen was very kind to her. She thought it was apart of a game when the Queen approached her. She quickly realized how kind of a woman the Queen is and began so slowly open up to her. She enjoyed the morning that they ate together.

Y/n heard footsteps approach her. She looked up and saw it was the Queen’s maidens and quickly looked down and picked up her work and stood up to walk away in hopes they would leave her be. She quickly remembered why she didn’t leave her room unless forced to. They called her name and giggled.

“Can I help you with something” y/n said politely. They giggled again.

“Have you heard?” The one on the right asked while the one of the left kept giggling.

“Heard what exactly?” Y/n asked cautiously.

“The king in mercy is allowing you to marry” the left one stated with clear amusement. Y/n grew pale and her hands began to shake.

The one on the right noticed her state. “Yes we heard the king arguing with the Duke of Suffolk not long ago. It seems the king has found a way for the Duke to divorce his wife and has arranged your marriage to him”

A cold sweat breaks out across y/n. She turns and quickly walks off all but running back to her room. Her mind is racing. How is this mercy? Being forced to marry the man that ripped her from her family? A part of her knew that it was on the kings orders and that he was the unfortunate one to have to follow. But she still blamed him.

She barley noticed the people she was passing, not even realizing she rushed past Charles so quickly he almost didn’t notice. She was beginning to hyperventilate, her breath coming in and out quietly, tears streaming down her pale face. Cursing the tight dress she was forced to wear she heard her name being called and a hand on her arm. She looked up to see none other than Charles Brandon himself.

“Let me go” she spit out. All she wanted to do was hide in her room.

“Lady y/n, wait, what’s wrong?” Charles asked very concerned at her current state. Anger flashed through her eyes.

“As if you don’t know what’s already wrong Your Grace.” Y/n breathing quickened. Guilt passed through the Duke’s eyes before confusion.

“My Lady, please I only just found out myself. How could you have found out so quickly. I was just coming to tell you myself”. Charles tried to reason. Y/n snorted

“You know as well as I that secrets don’t stay secrets for long in this hell.” She was beginning to see black edges in her vision. She was scared and panicking.

“My lady, you need to breathe” Charles told her as she began to wobble on her feet.

“No, I won’t do it, I won’t marry you” she gasped out, shaking like a leaf “I want to go home. I want my father” she cried before her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out.

“Fuck!” Charles exclaimed, catching her before she hit the ground. “Go get a damned doctor and send them to my quarters” he cursed at a nearby guards. Charles picked her up and walked quickly back to his quarters, laying her down on his bed. He stepped out the room and allowed the doctor to look over her. He sat in his chair in front of the massive fireplace and stared into the fire. Not looking up as the doctor came out.

“Lady y/n will be alright and needs rest and nourishment. She is very thin and has been through. Shock”

Charles said nothing and nodded his head not moving from his spot. He let out a big sigh, running a hand through his hair. He hopes he can one day earn her forgiveness or they will both remain miserable.

Let me know what you think!

[bluesylveon2]

My My, I Could Never Let You Go

Summary: Sasha Zoe just wants her dad to walk her down the aisle. There is only one problem: she doesn't know who her dad is! Sasha invites 3 men in hopes of finding out which one is her father. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairings: Levi x Hange, Sasha x Niccolo, and other background relationships

Disclaimer: This is a Levihan Mamma Mia au. This fanfic is inspired by Mamma Mia which is directed by Phyllida Loyd, written by Catherine Johnson, and uses music from the pop group ABBA. Attack on Titan is a manga/anime series written by Hajime Isayama and published by Kondasha

A/N:  I created the 2/3 of the chapter to answer this question I had from the movie: "How did Sky know where to find Sophie?" I hope you all enjoy the "Lay All Your Love On Me scene" ;) I also have a Eremika scene after reading ch 139 Thank you for following me! I’m almost at 100 followers, which I never thought I would get when I made an account. This may not the best, but I am learning as I go! 😁

Edit: I recommend listening to the Mamma Mia movie version of Lay All Your Love On Me! It will help when you read the guy’s performance

Need to catch up? Catch up here!

Ch 7: Lay All Your Love On Me

If someone were to ask how Niccolo's day went: normal would be an understatement. 

The stage was all set. The only thing missing was the star of the show (aka his fiance, Sasha). Niccolo was happy with the way everything turned out. It took a lot of her friends and locals to agree on it and perfect it. Now he just needs to pick up Sasha from the hotel and show her the surprise before she leaves for her bachelorette party. 

If only she would pick up her phone first. Niccolo decided to check the hotel first since she frequents there the most. 

It's simple. It's quick. It's just one task! What could possibly go wrong?

---

At the hotel

"So I'm thinking, what if we locked Eren and Mikasa in a room together and let them out after they confess?" Historia was pacing around the kitchen while going over her matchmaking plans with Hitch. Her white sundress swayed around as she walked. Meanwhile, Hitch was leaning on the counter and was eating an apple. She wore a green romper. Her green eyes followed Historia’s pacing. 

It’s been over an hour since the girls spread out around the island acting as lookouts for Niccolo. Hitch and Historia decided to pair up and stay in the hotel just in case Niccolo comes back. Historia also took the liberty to get Sasha’s phone she left in her room, turn it off, and hide it in case Niccolo decides to spam her with phone calls. 

Hitch swallows the food in her mouth and shakes her head in disapproval. "Bad idea. Remember what happened with Armin the last time I tried to throw them in a locked room together. I doubt Mikasa would appreciate it if something happened to her precious Eren.” 

Historia hums in agreement and stops pacing. She begins to panic. Well, there goes her plan. Now she needs to come up with something else before tomorrow. Now, what is she supposed to do? Those two have liked each other for God knows how long except them! Honestly, it was kind of annoying watching whatever dance they were dancing. If only Ymir were here to help. She would actually push them into a closet and expect something to happen. 

Pushing them together. huh…

Hitch noticed the mischievous gleam in Historia’s eyes. It seems Ymir has been influencing her lately. 

“What are you thinking about, Historia?” she asks curiously.

Historia sways slightly from her spot. “What if we try to get them together at the reception. You know? We push them to dance.”

Hitch contemplates it and sets her apple down on the counter. That could work, maybe something earlier in the day could be a better option though. 

“What if we invite the guys to go with us to the beach tomorrow? We can even get two birds with one stone!”

Historia gasps. “That’s perfect!” She walks over to Hitch and raises her hand up for a high five. “I’m so excited! Mikasa and Hanami better thank us at their weddings!” she huffs with triumph.

Hitch laughs and high fives Historia. It seems like Ymir has definitely influenced Historia after all.

Historia rubs her hands together with excitement. This plan they come up with will be executed flawlessly. She (and everyone in their group) are tired of watching those four dancing around. 

“Now I think Hanami does not need much pushing from us. She just needs to stop what she’s doing for once and look at her surroundings.”

Hitch nods in agreement. “I agree. That girl is going to find something new to do once the wedding is over. She needs time to herself too.”

“Exactly! Now, this is what I’ve been thinking about. When-” Historia was interrupted by the door opening. Niccolo walks into the kitchen with a huge grin on his face.

“Historia? Hitch? Have you seen Sasha? I’ve been looking for her, and she’s not picking up her phone.”

Both girls shook their heads simultaneously. They did their best to look natural and convince Niccolo they haven’t seen her recently. 

“No. Sasha was heading to Finikas with Annie and Mina,” Historia says. She wasn’t technically lying. Annie and Mina did go to Finikas, just without Sasha. 

“Your best bet is to head there,” Hitch adds while shrugging her shoulders and feigning innocence.

Niccolo sighs. He can understand why Sasha would not be at the hotel since it’s already the afternoon. Knowing her, she could still be devouring a feast as he speaks. 

“Thank you for letting me know. I have to find her right away.” He waves at the girls goodbye and heads back into town towards the restaurant. Hopefully, she is still with Annie and Mina. 

Historia and Hitch watch as Niccolo runs off. Hitch could already tell what Historia was thinking and pulled out her phone. “I’m on it,” she says and texts the group chat that Niccolo was on the move. 

Historia sighs with relief after Hitch hit send. “Let’s go over our plans now. We’re running out of time.” 

---

Somewhere in town

Being friends with one of the island’s popular residents has its perks. The locals know who you are, and you can get great deals or free food. Sometimes, the fame even spreads to the resident’s friend group. 

So when the owners of Finikas set up a huge surprise lunch for the daughter of the island’s sweetheart, they were expecting Sasha to be there. The only problem was that she was busy at the moment. The owners found Sasha’s friends heading back from the pier expecting Sasha to be within the group. They were sad after they noticed Sasha’s absence in the group, so Mina (bless her heart) decided to step up; so the food does not go to waste. She even asked Annie to accompany her because she is the closest to her, leading up to now.

Annie and Mina were walking through the streets of Kalokairi to head back to the hotel. Their stomachs were so full that anyone could see their bellies sticking out through their blouses. They even had to loosen their shorts a bit to accommodate the amount of food they ate. The girls decided to walk back to the hotel to burn off the food and take a nap before the bachelorette party.

“Next time, let’s get Sasha to eat the food for us to make up for today,” Mina complains as she rubs her full stomach. The owners were so grateful for Annie and Mina that they decided to make them another feast for the two when they get married. They appreciated the thought, but who knows after today. There were many meat items out. It was definitely made for Sasha.

Annie only nods and rubs her stomach. This was the most food she’s eaten in her life, and she could feel the sleep entering her body.

Mina glances at Annie as she walks. “Thank you for eating that last slice of baklava. Any more for me and I would’ve blown up!” she takes her hands off her stomach and pushes it away from her body to mimic an explosion. 

Annie weakly waves her off. “It’s ok. I don’t mind eating it.”

“Thank goodness for your sweet tooth.” Mina jokes and Annie actually laughs at it. They continue walking in silence. Annie looks over at Mina to find her looking deep in thought.

“Something on your mind?” 

“Do you know what the guys are doing? They have been really busy since we left to meet up with Historia and Mikasa.”

Annie shrugs her shoulders. “Who knows? All I know is that it’s a surprise for Sasha and only Hanami knows what’s going on.” Even Armin never told her specifically what was going on or why only Hanami is aware. He did mention to her how it was going to be memorable and most likely make her laugh. 

Mina looks at her with shock. She was unaware of the surprise at all. “Does anyone else know about it?”

Both girls laugh. Annie and Mina are close, and Mina considers herself lucky for befriending Annie when they met. She remembers how Annie intimidated her at first impressions.

Speaking of their friends. What was the status of the other girls and Niccolo?

“Hey, Annie.” 

Annie hums in response. “Is there any news on the girls about Niccolo’s whereabouts?” The girls had split up after Sasha went with her dads. As far as Annie and Mina know, they have no idea where Niccolo was. They had muted their phones earlier to focus on the multiple plates of food in front of them.

Annie takes her phone out of her shorts pocket, and Mina does the same. They turn it on and swipe their screens to open the group chat. Suddenly, both girls froze, and their faces contoured in shock as they read the message.

Hitch: Niccolo is heading your way! I repeat, Niccolo is heading your way!!!

Oh no.

“Annie! Mina! I need your help!”

Their eyes widen with shock. What were the odds that Niccolo would suddenly show up now?

Niccolo runs up to the girls and stops to catch his breath. Annie and Mina could tell that he ran there based on the sheen of sweat on his face. 

“Have you seen Sasha? Hitch and Historia told me she was here with you.”

Mina (fake) gasps. “You just missed her. She’s heading to Limnonari beach with Hanami.” She looks away and shakes her head to show fake disappointment.

Niccolo sighs and rubs his temples. A crease started to form between his eyebrows. This is the second time today! She eats a huge feast and then goes swimming after? On the other side of the island too! As if any of that makes sense. 

“Thank you. Let me know if you see her around.”

Annie smiles and waves him off. “Will do.” 

Niccolo smiles back and runs off in the direction of the beach. Both girls let out a breath of relief and start walking back to the hotel again.

“I’m ready for a nap,” Annie complains after everything that occurred today.

Mina nods her head in agreement. You and me both, Annie.

---

A different part of town

Meanwhile, Mikasa and Eren were getting dinner together, sharing stories, and catching up after not seeing each other for almost a year now. Both of them have been busy since they graduated high school. Mikasa with her modeling career and Eren was studying for med school. Mikasa wore a light pink sundress, flip flops, and had sunglasses resting on top of her head. The male, Eren, wore more casual clothing compared to Mikasa. He had on a tank top, cargo shorts, and sandals on his feet. 

Mikasa and Hanami paired up together after Annie and Mina left the group. The two were strolling through town when they ran into Eren who was about to get dinner. Hanami, not wanting to third wheel and to give the two some privacy, excused herself by claiming something about how Connie needed her to help with some stuff and ran off to find him (but not before giving her a thumbs up before leaving). Thus leading up to now. Mikasa and Eren were spending some alone time together. 

Mikasa stared at Eren’s features. His face had matured and looked more defined. His hair was much longer now, and he even tied it up in a man bun. Mikasa noticed the many glances from the girls passing by their table. They were looking at him. (Can she blame them, though? He really is handsome in her eyes.) Yet, despite the stares, his eyes remained on her. All of his attention was on her. 

Mikasa listened as Eren told his story. He talked about how his parents were doing well over in Japan and even promised to bring back some stuff for Mikasa. She misses them dearly and even sees them as her own parents.

Eren’s parents have done so much for her ever since Mikasa has arrived on the island. More than her real family really. The last she heard from her great aunt, Kiyomi Azumabito, was a few months ago when she congratulated Mikasa on her latest modelling gig. She even offered to make Mikasa a dress for Sasha’s wedding to which Mikasa refused but thanked her for the offer anyway. 

Mikasa misses Grisha and Carla Jaeger dearly and even sees them as her own parents. She hopes to see them again when they get back from their trip. The Jaeger family were always there to support her and make her comfortable when she had no one. 

Who knows? Maybe there was a chance for her to become Mikasa Jaeger one day. 

“Is there something on my face?” Eren asks with genuine concern. 

“No! You look good! No, wait. I mean the food looks good. Sorry, it's just been so long since we've last seen each other.” Mikasa exclaims, hoping Eren did not take her staring in a different context.

“I agree.” Eren nods his head. “You look like a goddess now and could probably make Aphrodite jealous. Are you sure you’re not running for the next Miss Universe?” he replies nonchalantly.

Mikasa blushes. Who is this Eren and what happened to Eren she knew before? He was never this bold! 

Eren laughs at her response. He thinks it is really cute, but he won't voice that yet.

“Now that you mention it...I’ve considered it. I think Historia has a better shot of being Miss Universe though.” 

Eren shakes his head. Historia is a good candidate, yes, but Mikasa could steal the spotlight too. “Mikasa. I’m sure the judges would be blown away by you if you try. Even Historia would support you if you win or lose. Actually, everyone on the island will support you. You're the personification of inspiration for others.”

He leans forward and gives her a goofy grin. “I’ll be there as your number one supporter no matter what you choose. I know you are for me, and that’s how I’m going through college now.” 

Mikasa looks away from Eren's eyes. She was still blushing from earlier. He can’t do something like that without expecting her to blush. She needs to change topics quick. 

“Oh, thank goodness I ran into you, Mikasa! Have you seen Sasha? I checked the hotel and Finikas, and she was not there.” 

Mikasa was unsure if she should be happy or not. On one hand, she doesn’t have to worry about Eren praising her. On the other hand, Niccolo is here. 

(Mikasa would have known earlier had she not silenced her phone from the constant messages in the group chat)

Mikasa knew she had to come up with something fast. All Niccolo knows is that Sasha ate a huge feast and is heading to the beach. Like that was the best excuse the girls can come up with.

“She passed by me earlier on my way here, but now she’s gone. You see..” She briefly glances over at Eren who was watching her expectantly. He was curious about what Mikasa would do since he did not see Sasha when he ran into Mikasa. She looks into Niccolo’s eyes with a serious expression. 

“She ripped a huge fart earlier and ran off to the bathroom with Hanami. That’s what happens when you eat a huge feast for lunch, you know. She would’ve told you earlier, their phones died. They were so excited by me and Historia’s arrival to think about charging it.” she says while trying to shrug it off. In reality, Mikasa was internally panicking. She prayed that Niccolo didn't run into Connie on his way here. Would Niccolo really believe that his fiance had to go to the bathroom after eating so much? Mikasa has seen Sasha eat so much back in high school, and she was fine! 

Mikasa was also cringing on the inside. She had to pull a tactic only one of Sasha’s potential fathers (who Mikasa also prays is not related to) would do. The man told Hange poop jokes for crying out loud!

Unknowingly to Mikasa, Eren had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his smirk. He was trying his best not to laugh out loud and ruin whatever Mikasa was trying to get at. He wanted to see how all of this would play out. 

Niccolo just stares at Mikasa. He does have to agree that Sasha was really excited about for her friend’s arrival. In his opinion, Mikasa is the one who would tell you the truth. He tries to make sense of everything in his head.

“Wait. So you’re telling me that Sasha went to Finikas with Annie and Mina, met up with Hanami to go to the beach, both of their phones died, they ran into you on the way there, and are now in the bathroom?”

“Yes, Niccolo,” Mikasa points off in the direction to a random bathroom she can think of that’s at least far away from here. 

Niccolo looks over in the direction to where Mikasa was pointing to and debates if he should interrogate her any further. While Mikasa is the one who would tell you the answer straight up, she is also very intimidating. To be honest, Niccolo would rather not get hit with any MMA moves from someone who is also a model. He’s going to have to trust her although the story he got was kind of ridiculous. 

Eren, watching the whole thing, now leans forward with interest and continues hiding his smile behind his hand. He tried his best to not laugh or show any indication he was just as long as Niccolo or Mikasa didn’t look at him closely. 

Niccolo sighs. He made up his mind already. “Alright. I will head over and check up on Sasha. I'll make sure she’s ok.”

“Thank you, Niccolo.” 

Niccolo nods in response and heads over to wherever Sasha was. 

Once Niccolo was out of sight, Eren burst into laughter. It shocked Mikasa and anyone nearby. (including those girls who were checking him out). He leaned back in his chair and almost fell over had he not grabbed the table on time to steady himself. 

“Oh, Mikasa,” Eren laughs as he wipes away a tear. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s a good thing I didn’t say anything. You really know how to make my day.”

Mikasa does not reply and turns red for the third time that day.

---

Meanwhile, Niccolo does not get too far when he receives a text from Marlowe. 

Marlowe: Sasha is near Kastani Beach

What is going on? Niccolo thought after he read the text. He starts heading towards the beach. Looks like he has to take a detour. 

---

Present

Sasha glances over behind Niccolo's shoulder. There was a lifejacket laying on the sand. 

She pulls her head away from Niccolo but keeps one arm around his body. She uses her free arm to point at the lifejacket behind him.

"What's the life jacket for?" 

Niccolo briefly glances at it and laughs. His eyes were filled with mirth before looking down to meet Sasha's brown eyes. 

"It's for my stag do remember?" Sasha wanted to slap herself. How could Sasha forget! She's been so busy with her big surprise that it briefly slipped her mind. Then again, who knows what Hanami and Jean have in store for the both of them. 

Niccolo lets go of Sasha. He turns away from her and walks only a few feet away towards some rocks. “You know, they say a stag do is my last night of freedom.” He stops and turns to her with a smirk on his face.

Sasha rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Oh really?” she challenges with a smirk on her face.

Niccolo turns around fully to face Sasha again and begins walking back to her. “Some people see it that way.” he holds his arms up in front of him for reassurance. 

“But for me…” He puts his left hand on Sasha’s shoulders and picks up one of her hands with his right. “It is the last night before the greatest adventure of my life. You.” he finishes with a kiss on her knuckles with the hand he was holding.

Sasha pulls away with a blush and laughs. She considers herself lucky to get the chance to marry such a wonderful and charming man tomorrow. Sasha had made up her mind already after thinking about her girl talk earlier that day. She is going to tell Niccolo about her fathers.

“Hey…” she begins and catches Niccolo’s attention. “You know how I said I wanted to find my father-”

“Sasha, we’ve been over this a million times.” He says while placing his hands on her shoulders and looking deep into her eyes. “You don't need a father, you have a family.” 

“And you’ll never leave me right?” Sasha asks with her hands on her hips. She was praying Niccolo won't leave after the big reveal, which she might have to push back to tomorrow. 

“Are you kidding me? You have turned my world upside down.”

Sasha smirks. Now, this is something she wants to hear for herself. “How so?” 

Niccolo laughs and pulls Sasha closer to his body. She wraps her arms around his waist in response. He might as well feed Sasha’s ego based on the look on her face. 

“Well...there was that moment we first met. When I heard you praise my food, it hit me like I was a sitting duck. I knew at that moment that I was already falling for you.”

Sasha laughs giddily at Niccolo’s words. She starts to sway a bit and looks into Niccolo’s green eyes. 

“Can I tell you something, Niccolo?” 

He nods in response while keeping eye contact with Sasha. “Sometimes I feel a bit of fear when I don’t have you near. What did you do to me?”

Niccolo leans down slightly and rubs his nose gently against Sasha’s. He rests his forehead against Sasha’s and takes a deep breath.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Sasha looks at him curiously. 

“I am actually Eros and I shot an arrow through your heart, so that’s why you fell for me.” 

“Shut up!” Sasha laughs and pulls away from Niccolo. She lightly punches his arm.

Niccolo laughs along with Sasha while silently thanking her for not punching him hard. He has no idea where her strength even came from. Maybe she got it from Hange?

He reaches forward and pulls Sasha, who is still laughing. back to him.

“Remember that time when you met my parents in Italy, and we went fishing?”

How could she forget? It was the first time she ever went fishing with a trident. 

“How can I?” Sasha replies. She pulls one arm away and starts flexing it to show off her muscles to Niccolo. “I caught the biggest marlin out there!”

Niccolo laughs and gently grabs Sasha’s hand to stop her from showing off. He moves his hand to grab her hand and the other to cup her cheek. 

“I know,” he says gently. “You even gave me a victory kiss after. You should have seen the other guy's faces. They were either impressed or jealous because I managed to have a talented girlfriend like you. I was starting to get jealous of all the attention you got.”

He looks at her with love and begins leaning in. Sasha, as much as she would love to kiss him right then and there, gently pushes him away. Normally, she would kiss Niccolo when he praises her, but she wasn’t giving in just yet. 

“I know. I would too.” She says cockily and leans very close to Niccolo. Her lips were only a centimeter away from his but not enough to actually kiss him. She wanted him to keep feeding her ego for a few more minutes.

“What else do you think about me?”

---

“Do you see anything yet?” Jean asks Connie. Connie held up binoculars with a strap wrapped around his neck to watch the couple on the beach (totally not in a creepy way).

“No, They’re just talking,” Connie replies, not taking his eyes off the binoculars.

Jean groans. They have been in the water since Sasha made it to shore to meet up with Niccolo. You see, the guys had come together to get Sasha a wedding gift. They wanted to get her something unique. Something big because it was either go big or go home for them. 

All of the guys, except for Marco and Niccolo - for obvious reasons, had rowed together on a small boat close to where Sasha and Niccolo were. They were far enough to not be seen (and hopefully heard). They got out of the boat, jumped in the water, and hid so the only visible part was chest up. 

Their plan was to wait for Niccolo to give the signal before running up to the couple. Who knows how long that would take? The couple was busying frolicking on the beach that a few guys (mostly Connie) were beginning to doubt if Niccolo knew to give the signal.

Connie continues watching the couple. Jean stood on his left followed by Armin and Eren. Marlow stood on Connie's right side. 

Connie watches the couple get really close doing anything but kissing. There was one moment where Niccolo started to lean in, but Sasha pushed him away. Actually, it happened twice. During the second time, it was Sasha leaning it for a kiss...and then she pulled away again. 

“Jean, I swear. If we have to watch those do anything but first base, I’m going to strangle you right here! I don’t care if we are in the water.”

Jean rolls his eyes. Honestly, he has no idea when Niccolo is going to lean down and finally kiss Sasha already. 

“Niccolo is not going to do that!” He says with exasperation. At least Jean hopes so. Niccolo doesn’t go anywhere past kissing Sasha. Especially out in public and in front of her guy friends who see Sasha as a sister. “We’re all here to beat him up even if he tries.”

“I hope so,” Connie says and continues watching.

“I don’t think Niccolo is a guy to do that in a public area,” Marlowe adds. 

Jean nods in agreement. Niccolo respects Sasha enough to beat up anyone who talks trash or hurts her.

Eren, on the other hand, was confused. He looks over at Armin who was busy watching the couple as well. “Hey, Armin. Why would Sasha and Niccolo play baseball on the beach? The sand is not a good field to play on anyway.” 

Armin looks away from the beach and sighs. He places a hand on Eren’s shoulder and looks over at him with a hint of concern on his face. “I’ll tell you about it later, Eren.”

Eren smiles and looks back at the couple. Armin takes his hand off Eren’s shoulder and turns back to keep an eye on the couple. For a guy like Eren who looks like he’s a player and has multiple girls throwing themselves at him, he’s an oblivious guy when it comes to relationships. Especially when it comes to a raven-haired female Armin has been secretly rooting Eren to date since high school. 

They all watch as Niccolo and Sasha flirt on the beach. Niccolo was on his knees in the sand, and Sasha was slowly crawling towards him. She leans close to him, and he holds her waist to keep her steady. His hands move up towards Sasha’s shoulders, and he lays her down on the sand. He leans in close to her face and kisses her.

Connie, seeing the signal, tosses his binoculars aside, so it hits his chest. 

“Move out, soldiers!” he orders but not loud enough for the couple to hear them.

“This isn’t a war,” Marlowe says, but it goes past Connie’s ears. Connie lets out a war cry and starts running towards the shore. The guys could only watch and follow him as they went into “battle.” 

---

Sasha is normally good at hearing something far away. There have been a few instances where it wasn't the case. For example, when she injures her head or gets sick. Other than that, her hearing is really good except for now.

She was laying on the sand with Niccolo on top of her after she was satisfied with the amount of praise she got today. She finally gave in and stopped the back and forth between the two. Niccolo leans forward to kiss her. 

Sasha felt butterflies in her stomach. She was about to get married, her father is here, and she’s here spending some time with her fiancé. It was a perfect day for her, and she didn’t want it to end. Now, imagine her shock when she hears a war cry coming from the sea, and someone steals Niccolo away from her body. She watches three of her guy friends (Marlowe, Jean, and Connie) pull her fiancé towards the nearby pier. Eren and Armin pick her off the sand and sit her down on a nearby rock.

“Here you go, princess. Enjoy the show.” Eren says with a cheeky grin. He and Armin run off to meet the others once Sasha has settled down and is comfortable on her “throne.” Sasha looks up at the pier. Everyone, except Connie and Marco (who was the only guy missing from the group), stood patiently on the pier. A young boy (she thinks his name is Falco, a boy who recently moved to the island) runs in holding a Bluetooth speaker and a microphone in each hand. He hands the items to Connie before running off to the side. Connie turns the devices on and checks the mic. He places the speaker on the sand near the edge of the pier and speaks into the mic once he is satisfied with the sound.

“Ladies and-”

“Sasha is the only one here!” Armin yells from the back.

“Right! Thank you, Armin!” Connie calls back. 

Sasha quickly glances around the beach. Technically she is not alone since Falco would be present too, but it seems that the boy was missing. It was like he flew in and out undetected. Connie clears his throat before speaking again.

“Ladies. I hope you are having a wonderful day today because it is about to get better!” He walks towards Sasha and opens his left arm back towards the guys.

“As you know, Sasha. You have the best guy friends any girl can ask for. We’re here for you through thick and thin. We are the best support anyone can ask for, and we make you happy. Any girl is lucky to have a group of guys like us ” he brags.

The guys sweat dropped. They wouldn’t be surprised if Connie’s head suddenly grew large with the amount of bragging he was doing.  

“We cannot thank you enough, so…” his tone becomes sincere and walks back towards the pier and the speaker, “the guys have come up with the best wedding gift any girl can ask for. We know this is one of your favorite songs too. And so. Without further ado…”

The guys start posing from their spots. They looked ridiculous in Sasha’s eyes. 

“This is for you, Sasha Zoe! We present to you: Lay All Your Love On Me!” 

Connie hands Niccolo the mic so he can turn on his phone before pocketing it. The music starts playing through the speaker. 

Niccolo begins singing the first few verses of the song to Sasha. Meanwhile, the guys were not only singing but acting as background dancers instead. They would add their voices to add some harmony for some lines. 

Sasha was touched when Niccolo sang to her. She knows he has a good singing voice, but this was the first time he ever serenaded her. The guys in the background singers/dancers were just the icing on the cake. She couldn’t help but smile like a lovesick fool. She wonders if her mom was ever serenaded like this before. 

Niccolo walks up to Sasha while singing the song. He holds one of her hands tenderly and looks deep into her light brown eyes. He sings his heart out to her, and Sasha begins to tear up. How in the world did she find such a great guy like Niccolo? He truly is irreplaceable, and she loves him for that. 

As Niccolo finishes singing the third verse to Sasha, she could hear the sound of a jet ski heading in her direction. Niccolo, after hearing the jet skis as well, lets go of her hand and throws the mic over to Connie who catches it. It would help Sasha hear the guys singing the pre-chorus. 

He leaves to continue on with the rest of the plan. Meanwhile, Sasha watches her friends singing and dancing to the final refrain of the song. The guys stood side by side and were singing and dancing at the same time. This time the dancing was freestyle instead of choreography. 

Sasha laughs as her friends dance to the song. She could at least tell that they were trying for her. Jean and Eren made it seem like the dance was a competition between the two. They were trying to outdo each other by doing “dance moves” such as flexing and handstands. Armin was slightly red while dancing, but Sasha could tell he was trying his best. Marlowe was also trying his best but looked a bit stiff with his moves. On the other hand, Connie was also doing ridiculous dance moves (not as bad as Eren and Jean) and danced so dramatically that Sasha was unsure if he was trying to be the star of the show. He even hooked his arms around Armin and Marlowe and started front kicking. Poor Armin and Marlowe tried their best. Jean and Eren continued competing. Overall, they all looked ridiculous, but Sasha found it endearing. A whole performance just for her! Imagine what they would do when the other girls in the group get married!

As the others sang the final notes, Eren suddenly does a cartwheel (Sasha still does not know why Eren would consider adding it to his “dance.”) and causes chaos to erupt. He accidentally bumps into Jean and knocks him over. Jean falls and bumps into Armin, who is still linking arms with Connie, creating a domino effect causing the two (plus Marlowe) to fall in the water. Jean watches with horror as they fall. Eren, proclaiming himself as the winner of their dance-off, pushes Jean into the water before jumping in himself. 

Meanwhile, Marco enters the scene leading Niccolo’s stag party on jet skis with enough space for the other guys. Even Falco was there with his brother, Colt. Both of them had the biggest smiles on their faces. It seems like the rest of the guys (minus Falco because he is still young) are here to pick up everyone else for the bachelor party. They were hooting and hollering from their jet skis. 

Armin and Marlowe swam towards the nearest jet skis and hopped on. Jean and Eren were busy trying to drown each other in the sea about who won their competition until Marco had to step in and stop them. Connie, who didn’t join just yet, turns to Sasha (who is still laughing at everything) and brings his hands up around his mouth to amplify his voice. 

“Thank you for watching! We’re only available on Fridays! He laughs and swims away to the nearest et ski so he can join the rest of the guys. The stag party left into the sunset once everyone was settled.

Sasha continues to laugh until she hears some footsteps running in her direction. She turns just in time to see her friends running towards her, now changed into party clothes. Suddenly, Mikasa and Annie were on either side of her and carried Sasha off of her rock. Annie lets Sasha go once she is on the ground, and Mikasa moves to pick Sasha up in bridal style. The group begins running back inland.

Sasha turns to Hanami. She was the closest one near Mikasa. Hanami, noticing Sasha’s stare, turns to her and smirks.

“C’mon princess,” she says while using the same nickname Eren used on her earlier. “You have a bachelorette party to attend to.”

©: This is where I insert all rights reserved stuff. This story belongs to me. Do not modify or republish

What did you think? Btw the Eren I have in this the S1-S3 and junior high. He doesn't have a reason to be depressed, hence this OOC version I have. (Actually, I apologize if anyone is OOC)

Any get where I got the marlin fishing in Italy from haha? (The fish is actually a Mediterranean Spearfish, which is a type of marlin common in Italy.)

Kastani beach is the actual beach some scenes in Mamma Mia was filmed at. Additionally, Finikas is a real restaurant in Skopelos.

Most of this chapter takes place from 2 pm - 6 pm. 6 is when Sasha and her dads leave and run into Niccolo around that hour. She goes to her bachelorette party after 8.

The guys actually practiced their performance twice. One time alone and the second with Hanami as stand-in Sasha. Jean and Eren cooperated during them, and Niccolo only sang in front of her.

So how's everyone after ch 139? It was a bittersweet ending for me. I'm both happy and sad.

[janeyseymour]

Old Soul

An intensely deep analysis on what qualifies Jane Seymour to be an old soul, as told through various thoughts, anecdotes, an article I found online, and a post that I saw on social media.

WC: 7219

In hindsight, what this man said was quite comical. “You’re an old soul,” he had said. It struck Jane Seymour as odd, but what he uttered was truthful, both literally and figuratively. Jane Seymour’s soul really was an old soul- 500 years old if you will. But she also had most of the characteristics of what an old soul would be classified as.

-

“Oh geez,” Jane would mutter to herself quite often. It didn’t matter what she was doing, it was better than what she had truly wanted to say. Knowing that she was in the public eye and had a younger audience, she did her best to keep herself as “PG” as possible, although some of the other queens didn’t follow that mindset as much.

The blonde would trip over the carpet in the house? “Oh geez.” The silver queen would be at a loss of words during an interview? “Oh geez,” she would sigh as she tried to articulate what was in her head. The third monarch would walk into the living room to see Anne Boleyn doing an Instagram live? “Oh geez,” she would laugh before settling next to the green queen.

“And, how do you think life would be different if all of the children were brought back in this life?” the man asked. “Surely, you miss the bright young Edward.” He gave her a sympathetic look. This question wasn’t as malicious as some of the other questions were in regards to the children and her family- no, it was simple curiosity coming from the man. Almost as if he sympathized with her.

“Oh geez,” she mumbled for the third time during this interview before letting out a small chuckle. “Sorry, let me try to find the words...”

“Oh geez,” he laughed genuinely- not at her, but with her. “You say that phrase quite a bit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she shrunk into her seat a little, feeling as though he was poking fun at her.

“Oh! Nothing to be sorry for!” the man reassured. “It’s just, not many people say that phrase anymore. It’s mostly older people, not younger people like you. Are you an old soul?”

“Well, I mean... Yes?” Jane shrugged her shoulders. Her soul had been alive 500 years ago, although she lived a short time back then. And it was alive now too, although she had only been brought back to life a few short years ago and was barely what others considered her to be around thirty, maybe a few years shy of it. Now though, her morals and character didn’t stray all that much- she still stayed a kind hearted soul who would do virtually anything to keep her family happy- a woman of empathy she remained.

“It’s not a bad thing dear,” the older gentleman responded. “It’s quite good in fact. The way you speak about your family and friends, it shows you’re doing just fine in life.”

“Oh gosh.” The blonde blushed. “Well, thank you. I appreciate that.”

Leaving that interview, she smiled, a light blush still evident on her face. She wasn’t exactly sure what qualified her to be an “old soul”, but it didn’t bother her in the slightest.

-

Scrolling through social media a few nights after the interview with the sweet older gentleman, Jane Seymour found an article that read “17 Signs You’re An Old Soul Stuck in the 21st Century”. Immediately curious and remembering that she was called an “old soul” and was indeed stuck in the 21st century, she clicked the link.

“There is a special kind of person in our world who finds herself alone and isolated, almost since birth.” This line at the beginning of the page intrigued her. At a first glance, she thought to herself that she wasn’t alone and isolated. She had the other five queens to navigate life with, but this would prove to mean a lot more to Jane as she read on and read into what it really meant to her.

“1# You tend to be a lone wolf”

As she read the heading, she couldn’t help but laugh to herself. Oh how this man had been so wrong. She was not a lone wolf- she was the maternal figure of her household for crying out loud!

As she read the description beneath the subheading though, it began to click more. Jane for the life of her felt as though she didn’t necessarily have a place within the queens’ friend group. Of course, the others knew this wasn’t true: Jane was their maternal figure. Jane was more interested in embroidery, knitting, among other things that older people tended to drift towards as opposed to what say, Anne liked to do. Even Catherine Parr, a woman of many written words and not as many verbal words, could relate to the activities that Anne liked to participate in. Anna of Cleves could too. Even sometimes Catalina liked to participate in the- what the third queen thought was useless- drinking nights where the other queens would have a few too many drinks and wind up the next morning with a massive hangover. Jane would sip her glass or two of wine and put them to bed before pulling out her embroidery piece.

It was hard to connect herself to the others too because she truly had been the only one to provide a legitimate son to Henry. The others weren’t resentful towards her for this of course; it was pure luck. But that distanced Jane from them.

“2# You love knowledge, wisdom, and truth”

Jane Seymour was far from the smartest woman in the group. That title went to any of the others besides her, and she wouldn’t argue with you on that one. But that didn’t stop her from trying. The blonde found herself remembering a multitude of times she had told Katherine that knowledge was power, wisdom was happiness, and truth was freedom. It was strange in that way... she had uttered those words without ever hearing them before, and here they were in an online article she had never come across before this day.

Seymour wasn’t always gravitating towards academic knowledge either, no. She would gravitate more towards emotional intelligence and was happy to do so.

“3# You’re spiritually inclined”

The third queen was always fostering love and peace in her life. Whether it be settling an argument between Kat and Anne over who had to replace the chocolate milk or staying up with one of her fellow queens during a rough night, Jane was always trying to foster a peaceful and loving environment in their home. Along with this, the woman was quite sensitive, although she wouldn’t necessarily pin herself as spiritual. The silver queen laughed as she remembered the first time someone called her sensitive and she wept openly:

“Geez Jane, you’re so sensitive. Could you take a joke? I didn’t mean it!” Anne threw her hands up in exasperation when the blonde began to pout over something stupid her predecessor said.

“I-I’m sorry!” The third queen cried.

“Oh dear God,” Catalina had sighed as she simply pulled her friend into a hug and began to rub her back. “It’s okay. Hey, hey, querida: Look at me. It’s not a bad thing to be sensitive. It’s what makes you, you.”

She had overcome the confines of her ego quite soon after being brought back to life. Jane grimaced as she thought back to the first time somewhat had put her in her place. Funnily enough, it had been Katherine.

“You think you got it all figured out, don’t you? The world according to Katherine!” Jane had mocked the pink haired queen early on.

“You think you’re so much better than us just because you had a son! Don’t you?”Kat stared at the woman. “Go ahead! Throw your rocks at me from your little glass house and then take off running! You’re no better than me! We’ve both made mistakes, haven’t we?”

In that moment, Jane Seymour was grounded by a nineteen year old girl, and she realized that she was not above any one person in this house. They had all made mistakes in their past life. Some were bigger than others, but each and every one of them had made mistakes they so desperately wished they could take back.

“4# You understand the transience of life”

So many times had Jane Seymour thought about the transience of life. How could she not? She had died before, and she would die again. It was made clear to the women that their time in the 21st century would come to an end eventually- whether they would be brought back again in another 500 years was unknown, but they had to make the most of the extra time they were blessed with on Earth. While some of the queens took approaches that, in all honesty, terrified the third queen, Jane was well aware that the decisions she made in this life counted. If she wasn’t careful, her actions could ultimately lead to an untimely death.

“Seat belts!” the silver queen exclaimed before she would move the car from the parking lot outside the theater.

“Seymour, Katherine is asleep. How the hell do you expect her to put a seat belt on?” Cleves questioned from the back.

“Buckle her in!” the blonde monarch laughed, but the way she looked at her successor through the rear view mirror told Anna she wasn’t messing around.

“Come on, just drive,” Anne groaned from the middle. “I want to go to bed!”

“No! If we get into an accident on the way home, if she’s not buckled in-” Jane shuddered.

The maternal figure in the household, in her own privacy, had many existential crises. One day, Cathy found her in the midst of one.

“Jane?” the sixth queen made her presence known, or tried to that is. When the third queen didn’t respond, she tried calling her name again.

A blank stare was quickly replaced with a soft smile as Jane came back to and said gently, “Hey love. What’s up?”

“Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be dear?”

“Do you know what time it is?” Jane shook her head no. “It’s 2:30 in the morning. You’re usually asleep by now.”

“Oh my,” the silver queen whispered. “How did this much time pass?”

“How long have you been sitting here?” The blue queen made a move to sit next to her friend at the dining room table, a mug of coffee in hand.

“You really need to lay off the coffee this late at night honey.”

“I could say the same for you and tea Mum,” Cathy joked. “But seriously, how long have you been sitting here?”

Jane turned sheepish. “Three hours,” she mumbled into her mug, sipping her now very cold tea. “I guess I just got lost in thought.”

“Why don’t I warm up that tea for you and then we can talk?” The writer gently pried the mug out of the blonde’s hand, only to set it back into her hand a few minutes later.

That night, Jane would reveal that she was terrified of going through this life only to be forgotten in history again. She didn’t know her purpose.

“Jane Seymour, I can promise you you will not be forgotten in history. You never were.”

“I’m only remembered for-”

“We all are, remember? That’s why we have our show,” the sixth queen tried to reason with her.

“Yes but,” Jane paused to wipe a tear from her eye. “Why was I brought back? What if I can’t contribute to society in a meaningful way before I pass again? I mean, we all are going to pass again, but none of us know when. Like, everyone else has already done so much in society and is making the world a brighter place, and I for the life of me can’t find my pur-”

“You stop right there. I will not hear this slander against yourself. So, maybe you’re a bit less outspoken than the rest of us, but you’re behind us every step of the way. Maybe you’re not always doing press like the rest of us, but do you know what you are doing? You foster an environment that allows us to let us be who we want to be and say what we want to say. The five of us are only doing these things because you gave us the confidence to. I mean, for heaven’s sake Jane- look at what you’ve done for Kat. She was this shy, skittish young girl when we were all brought back. She’s the sassy, outspoken, and sweetest young woman now because you helped her. So what if you’re not in the public eye as much as the rest of us? You made that choice, and that choice is 100% valid. You may not be changing the whole world, and neither are any of us. Do you know what you are doing though? You’re changing our world, and that is something none of us are ever going to be able to repay you for. You’re making our world a better place.”

Jane then understood that if she could change just one person’s life for the better, it was worth it. Of course, she was doing so much more- but sometimes it was hard to realize that.

“5# You’re thoughtful and introspective”

The third queen was never not in deep thought. She was always reflecting on the way she presented herself, handled things, and tried her best to develop a sense of self-awareness.

This started soon after she realized she had to put a lid on her temper. Yes, sometimes it would still get the better of her, but she had to get it under control- she was scaring Kat. How she hated the way the fifth queen would shy away from her for a few days after an outburst. And in the beginning, the silver queen had many outbursts, often leading Katherine to avoid her for several days at a time- sometimes even weeks.

“You really have to get your life together Seymour,” she mumbled as looked at herself in the

mirror. “You’re a mess.” From there on out, she practiced EFT on her phone, a tapping program on the right points on her body to help her de-stress and ground herself for the day. The other queens took notice to the change in the blonde’s demeanor. Jane was thankful for being able to reflect on herself and become better for the others.

“6# You see the bigger picture”

The third queen smiled softly at this one. She liked to think she saw the bigger picture. Very rarely did she focus on the trivial things in life; she focused more on how to live meaningfully and use her time to help advance her in this journey of self-growth she was going on. How would having the newest iPhone benefit her (in reality, the phone she had now was quite confusing to her still)? It wouldn’t. How would learning how to edit pictures of herself and learn all of the nifty tools on her phone help better her life? She knew it wouldn’t. It would likely consume her and take time away from her journey. Besides, that wasn’t the message she wanted to send out to her audience. She wanted to show the world that being natural and not always perfect (albeit she definitely struggled with imperfections) was okay. That was a better lesson to teach her followers. Why waste time on small and insignificant details in life when there were bigger things to focus on?

“7# You aren’t materialistic”

Jane Seymour was many things; materialistic was not one of them. Sure, she had the wealth, the status, the fame, and close to the latest tech gadgets, but did she really need them? The short answer was no.

“Janey, don’t you want the new phone too?” Anne had asked her when they all went to the store to upgrade their phones.

Jane shrugged before replying, “This one seems to be working just fine. No need to replace it quite yet.”

“Do you ever use your status to help you get somewhere better in life?” An interviewer had laughed. “It’s not an uncommon practice, I promise you.”

“People actually do that?” The blonde looked at the woman incredulously.

“I have!” Anne announced. “When I started wearing my heelys, I told people about them, and the company sent me new shoes!”

“I did it, but not on purpose. Some people asked me where I got my makeup from and the company sent me a ton of free gifts,” Kat nodded subtly.

“When I complained about my laptop breaking on a live and jokingly said that if Apple was to send me a new computer I wouldn’t complain, they did,” Cathy admitted sheepishly.

“Chocolate,” Cleves just said smugly.

Catherine of Aragon just nodded but wouldn’t reveal how she had used her status to put her up.

“I don’t think I’ve...” Jane trailed off. Had she really never reaped the benefits of her status and wealth like the others?

Materials didn’t enrich her soul the way it may others. No, the third queen was more sentimental. She appreciated the finer things in life like spending time with her family face-to-face as opposed to “Facetime” (is that what it was called?). The silver queen quickly made peace with the fact that she wasn’t materialistic.

“8# You were a strange, socially maladaptive kid”

Jane Seymour was introverted in both this life and last. Sure, she didn’t have a childhood in the 21st century, but she can’t imagine her soul would’ve changed all that much if she had the chance to grow up again. She was still very much the same person she was then... meek, mild, a bit hot tempered at times.

But even in her past life, she failed to fit into the mainstream behaviors she was set to practice. Adults never spoke to her as though she was a kid, some even referring to her as a “little adult” back then. In all honesty, now that she was thinking about it, she never even had a nickname until this life: Janey. It had a hint of a childish play to it, but she didn’t really mind it all that much. It reminded her in times where she was far too headstrong on mothering her family that she was only a young adult in reality.

“9# You’ve undergone an existential crisis”

“It’s common for Old Souls to ask deep and penetrating questions about life in their search for love, truth, and freedom. This quest to live a meaningful existence inevitably means that they will, sooner or later, experience an existential crisis.” Jane laughed- she was extremely familiar with the idea of existential crises. Point #4 easily lays out the undergoing of existential crises that the third queen has experienced. Above this though, Jane could recall many times she had wondered if life was just a product of chance.

“What are you thinking about Mum?” Katherine distracted the blonde by speaking and tucking herself into the older woman’s side.

“What is all this about, anyway?”

“What is what all about?”

“Life,” Jane replied simply. “You know, it’s funny. We all go through this life, but have you ever really stopped to think about what life is about? I mean, in the grand scheme of things, it’s about surviving. To survive you need money, and to get money you need to have a job. But to get a job, you have to be well versed in something. Of course though, shouldn’t life be about happiness? And yet here we are, in a world where many people are just... surviving. They aren’t doing something they’re passionate about and love. Are they happy? Isn’t life supposed to be about living life to the fullest and experiencing life with as much light as one can?”

Katherine could only stare at her mother figure. “Are you... is this...?”

“No, no, this isn’t about me. I was just, you know, walking around town earlier and meandered into a cafe. Do the baristas there... Are they happy with their lives? I made sure I left a nice tip for them. I always try to, but today as I thought about it, I may have left more than I probably should have.”

“How much did you leave?” Kat looked at her curiously.

“A hundred.”

“For a three dollar tea?”

“Yes, but you should have seen the gratefulness in their eyes. Young kids too, about your age. I hope they use that tip for something that makes them happy.”

“Well that’s very kind of you Mum.”

“But then I got to thinking about myself and my life,” Jane trailed off. “What is the point of everything I’ve done? In reality, I haven’t done much in either life I suppose. I mean, really. In the past, I never said anything anybody even deemed worthy of writing down despite the long lengths I went to and the hoops I jumped through to... well, survive I suppose. I wasn’t happy then. And thankfully now, I am surrounded with light and love in this life, but am I doing enough? Is there a point to everything I’ve done in this world?”

“What the bloody hell are you even talking about?” The fifth queen detached herself from the blonde to look at her. “There is absolutely a purpose to everything you’ve done in this world.”

“I mean, Katherine, I died in my past life. That’s what I’m known for.”

“But in this life, you’re known for so much more.”

“Like what Kat? You’re all making your voices heard and speaking up and out about-”

“Sure, we’re all doing that, but so are you. You’re just as much a social justice warrior as the rest of us, even if you’re not as loud about it. Have you heard some of the interviews the rest of us have done?” Jane nodded; of course she had. She would support her girls no matter what. “Haven’t you noticed that in every interview we’ve done, someone always alludes to something that you’ve said to each of us in privacy. We’re learning these social justice ideas from you. We’re just the ones putting them out in the world.”

“I guess,” Jane shrugged. “But I don’t have much to offer to those who aren’t you guys and-”

“That’s not true either,” the pink haired queen cut her off quickly. “You provide the audiences a light and a heart and soul. Think of all of those people, especially the sweet young girls who come up to you and tell you how much it means to them that you give off a maternal aura. You give them this space that feels safe and loving. That’s a lot more than you think.”

“I suppose.” The third queen worried her lip through her teeth a bit.

“I promise you, it is. There is a point of everything you’ve done, even if you can’t quite see it.”

“Thank you love.” Jane pulled the younger woman into a tight hug.

“And you’ve done so much for me,” Kat pulled back a bit to look the older monarch in the eye. “You saved me, and I can never repay you for that.”

“10# You see life through a poetic/contemplative lens”

It was no question that Jane Seymour saw everything through a poetic lens. Yes, she was not the most well versed when it came to actual poems with words, but her outlook on life was quite poetic in itself.

The blonde had settled down on a park bench, happy to observe the others playing a round of catch. Sitting down, she noticed the way the trees swayed gently in the breeze, almost as if they were dancing to the sweet whistle of the wind. Instead of opening up the book she had brought along with the intention of getting through at least a chapter, she closed her eyes and felt the slightly cool breeze on her cheeks, inhaling the sweet oxygen that surrounded her. The sun was warm on her face, creating almost a glow around her to the others who had stopped tossing the ball around to look at the sweet woman in her element. She felt the green grass that snaked its way in between her toes, giggling slightly as it tickled her gently. Nature really was a beautiful thing to Jane Seymour.

The group of five had continued to play their game, leaving the blonde to revel in the beauty surrounding her. Jane opened her eyes at the sound of a child’s laughter. A young boy, about three, had taken to playing with her family- a young boy that looked like a spitting image of the portraits of her Edward. She stopped and drew it in, savoring the sweet little one’s laugh, before heading over herself and placing herself into the game.

“You wanna play?” Cleves looked at her. The third queen nodded with a soft smile before catching the ball and tossing it gently to the little tike, who giggled. Jane couldn’t help but wish that she had these experiences with her son. This was a good time too though.

The group had long since returned home, and Jane settled in her room, a pang now in her chest as she longed for her boy, for the night when she heard a quiet knock at the door.

“Come in love!” She called, fully expecting it to be her Kat. And it was, but Anne was with her too?

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” She quickly wiped away a tear that had escaped, hoping the two at the door hadn’t noticed.

“Uh,” Kat shrugged before settling herself into the bed she so often found herself in. Anne also made her way over to the bed, although she sat a bit awkwardly.

Boleyn looked at her in a way that made Jane uncomfortable. It was almost as if Anne herself was uncomfortable in the room, but she had been the one to put herself in this situation.

Coughing slightly, she spoke, “That little boy looked a hell of a lot like your Eddie at the park. Wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m alright dear. Yes, it hurts a bit to think that I don’t have my little boy with me anymore, but I have you all, now don’t I?” The silver queen pulled her predecessor into a tight hug with one arm, the other already wrapped around the pink monarch.

“I know. It’s just... different, you know?” Jane nodded. She knew Anne felt the same about her sweet Elizabeth.

“His little laugh was just so sweet, wasn’t it?” the blonde said softly, lightening the mood in the room immediately.

“Where’s Mum?” Kat asked Catalina. It was about time they started getting ready for the show.

“Did you check the stage? You know how she likes to sit there sometimes. Check the seats too.” The first queen suggested. Katherine shook her head and ventured out into the theater. Lo and behold, there Jane was, sitting in the back of the theatre deep in thought.

“Mum? Choosing the back of the house this time?”

“It’s nice once in a while to have a change of perspective, both literally and figuratively.”

“You’re so weird sometimes. You know that right?”

“And yet, you still love me.” Jane ruffled the girl’s hair quickly before smoothing it back over.

“I do. You know, we’re supposed to be getting ready for the show about now,” Kat informed the third queen.

“Yeah. I don’t know. I just needed a moment to think I suppose. You know?”

“I do. Do you think I could sit here with you, just for a few moments before we have to go backstage? Maybe I need a change of perspective too.”

“Of course love. You don’t have to ask. You’ve done it many times with me before.” The blonde wrapped an arm around her daughter and pulled her close, pressing a quick kiss to her hairline. Settling back into her position, she got lost in thought again until the golden queen would come out to tell them they should probably be getting ready now.

“Thank you Mum.”

“Of course love.” She kissed her forehead once more before offering a hand to help her up and guide the two back towards the dressing room.

“11# You tend to overthink everything”

It was no secret that the third monarch was quite an overthinker. Many times the others walked in on Jane practicing the way she walked, spoke, held herself. You name it, there was a good chance Jane Seymour had practiced it in the mirror.

“Seymour?” A slightly sleepy Cleves knocked on the door. “Are you in there?”

“Cleves!” Jane whisked the door open, a bright grin painted on her face, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes the way it usually would. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same,” the red queen retorted back.

“Oh no, did I wake you?”

“No, no. I had to go to the bathroom, but I could hear the small squeak of the floorboards, and someone talking to themselves. Are you alright?”

“Just fine love. Just practicing the way I walk.” The fourth queen looked at her in disbelief. “I’m serious! I just... don’t want to come across cocky and rude!”

“I swear, you’re the queen of overthinking. I’ve never heard of anyone doing that before. Get some sleep, yeah?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Now,” Cleves shot her a look before patting the door frame and walking back to her bedroom.

“Just a few more minutes,” Jane sighed to herself, making a note to walk more quietly.

“Jane? You’ve been staring at the two containers of granola for the past ten minutes. Just pick one, why don’t you?” A slightly disgruntled Catherine Parr had the... honor... of accompanying the resident grocery shopper and was beginning to get antsy. They had been in the store for over an hour, and Jane had only made her way through a quarter of the list of things they needed to pick up.

“But there are so many different reasons to buy both! Which is more healthy? Which one would taste the best? What is the best value for the price? What if there’s a price drop tomorrow? Is it in environmentally friendly packaging?” the third queen rambled on.

“Oh my,” Parr looked at her friend who was now in clear distress. “Why don’t we,” she paused to take the containers out of her hand before continuing. “Just buy both and you can decide which one you like more at home? Then, you can continue to buy just that brand. Sounds like a plan?”

“But that means we’re spending more-”

“None of it is going to go to waste though. You make sure nothing in our house goes to waste hun. Just, come on. We still have a majority of the list to go through, and we need to be back in time to make dinner before Annie decides to try to cook.”

That sped the process up. She didn’t need her overthinking leading to Anne Boleyn destroying her kitchen again.

“12# You struggle with anxiety in social situations”

Jane knew herself well enough to know that anxiety was heightened in social situations. Yes, she was a star in theatre and was always in the public eye, but she was a self-proclaimed introvert.

In this new life, it was quick to show itself when she entered the room where she would meet the other five queens for the first time.

“Jane Seymour,” she spoke quietly when it was her turn to introduce herself. The others mingled, but anxiety had reared its head and left the blonde to deal with the side effects. She considered the way that she held herself. Sure, she had a kind and inviting aura surrounding her, but she was still nervous. Adjusting her posture, she noticed that she was the only one not eating the snacks that had been provided (because she feared that the others would watch and judge the way she ate). Upon this discovery, she grabbed a plate along with a small sandwich before nibbling at it just a bit. Chewing, she held a hand over her already closed mouth subconsciously. Glancing around the room, she noticed she wasn’t the only one who had distanced herself from the larger crowd and was standing in a smaller circle. Katherine Howard, although she hadn’t said much, stuck by her.

“This is a lot, isn’t it?” Jane whispered after she had swallowed her food and taken a small sip of water. The fifth queen could only nod, eyes wide and ridden with anxiety. “Would you like to perhaps get to know each other out in the hallway where it’s a bit quieter? We can maybe eat our sandwiches without feeling like everyone else is staring at us.”

The grateful look the younger woman gave her told her everything she needed to know. This girl was too frightened to say anything, but a mere hour later, the two had already formed a strong and intense connection. Jane had a warm, maternal presence, and Katherine needed someone to mother her and bring her out of her shell. They shared many of the same values, which shocked Jane considering the upbringing Katherine came from as she learned. But in reality it made sense: they were both trying to fill holes in their lives- Jane trying to regain what she once had, and Katherine chasing after what she had always wanted. Kindred spirits, it was if destiny brought them together.

“13# You easily fall into the role of advisor or counselor”

The blonde, now glued to this article, couldn’t help but laugh out loud at this one. Of course she was the role of advisor or counselor. Her girls came to her for so many reasons. They didn’t all call her “Mum” (jokingly or not, they still all had at one point or another) for nothing! She remembered all the times Catalina had come to her in regard to Cathy and how to handle her sleep schedule, the times Anne had come to her crying because she thought she had ruined her relationship with Kat after the two had fought (they were cousins, but they acted more like sisters), the times Anna had come to her with the same ideas she had about not rightfully being placed among the other queens, the countless times Katherine had come to her looking for comfort, advice, and someone to vent to, and the times Cathy had trudged into her room begging her to help her with her writing (Jane couldn’t write or necessarily articulate the way Cathy could, but the two bouncing ideas off of each other always helped the writer process what she wanted to say). Without a second thought too, the third queen had put herself into this position. She never minded either. It may be a lot sometimes for the queen because she was a bit of an empath, but the overwhelmingness of it all was worth it if it meant she was able to help guide those in need.

“14# You enjoy the company of those much older than you” The others didn’t know this, but every Sunday early in the morning, Seymour would head down to the local cafe- long before anybody else was awake. There, she had a friend who was many years older than her (in relative terms. The kind elderly woman at the cafe knew that Jane had been reincarnated, but it hadn’t dawned on her that Jane’s soul had been around for many more years than she expected). Rosemary was her name, and the blonde couldn’t help but be drawn to her from the moment Rosemary sat down across from her.

“Hi?” The queen looked up and down at the older woman now sitting in front of her. “Can I help you?”

“You’re no later than thirty. What has you up and at the cafe this early?” Rosemary didn’t waste any time.

“Just trying to soak up the peacefulness of this beautiful Sunday morning before the rest of my housemates wake up. Gives me time to reflect and think. And you?” The woman dressed in grey smiled invitingly at the wrinkled woman.

“I’ve been up for hours now. Been coming to this here cafe for forty years. Used to come here with my dear husband before he passed. But back to you: you looked to be in deep thought. Care to chat about it?”

The two were fast friends. An unlikely duo? Maybe, what with Jane’s being mild mannered and her newfound friend telling quite the stories at times- not to mention that significant age gap between the two of them. But it was right. The two would trade stories, some from their distant past (or pasts in Jane’s case) and some from the not-so-distant past. Jane had learned so much about the modern world she sometimes felt trapped in, learning that she wasn’t the only one who felt somewhat out of place in the new century.

Above all though, Jane had felt grounded. When she was with Rosemary, it didn’t matter that she was a popstar starring in a show that was making waves around the country. She didn’t have to run around like mad trying to keep up with the antics of Anne Boleyn that always kept her on her toes. No, she was just another human living her life. It didn’t matter what she had or didn’t have. Together the two could have a good old-fashioned chat in the cozy corner of a cozy cafe on a peaceful Sunday morning over a cup of tea.

“15# You crave simplicity”

Jane Seymour, although living a life in the public eye, led a simple life. She craved the simplicity in the often complex world that she lived in. Being drawn to minimalism, it made its way into her everyday. She liked when things were easily read and plain. “Plain Jane” mocked her at first, but she had learned to take pride in it. What was so bad about being plain and well read? It was truthful, and shouldn’t the truth be simple?

“16# You’re attracted to all things vintage”

Vintage drew her in. Maybe it was because some of it reminded her of the times that she lived in before, but it didn’t have to be Tudor era-esque. Really, anything that was a bit older made her feel more at home. She had collections of records to play on her old record player. She had dresses that maybe were a bit more vintage than she was willing to admit. She loved watching programs that showcased antiques. While her co stars would gravitate more towards the newer store, she was drawn into the vintage boutiques and antique shops. She loved the historical sights that she was able to see- some of them holding rich history that she could intertwine herself with. It was simply a wonder to her.

“17# You just “feel” old inside”

“Throw away the ‘Old Soul’ label for a moment and focus on how you feel inside. How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are? Those who realize that they feel much older than their age reflects are often Old Souls at heart.”

Jane Seymour read over this a few times, truly trying to get a sense of how old she really felt in the times of now. It seemed as though she didn’t reflect a woman in her late twenties. No, she felt as though she reflected a woman who was in her late thirties, and although this wasn’t necessarily the biggest age gap, the difference of a 29 year old to a 39 year old was immense. And then she remembered how deeply she could relate to Rosemary- a woman who was easily forty or fifty years older than her.

“Common feelings that accompany being an Old Soul usually include a feeling of world wariness, mental tiredness, inquisitiveness, watchful patience, and the sensation of being an “outsider looking in.”

The blonde deeply resonated with the feelings that an old soul typically felt.

Later that night, the silver queen was curled up in bed, reading glasses slipping down the tip of her nose as she scrolled through social media mindlessly. She was about to retire for the night when she heard a small squeak from her door.

“Hey Mum,” Kat sighed from the doorframe. “Mind if I-”

“Not at all love. I was just winding down for bed, and I would love it if you joined.” Jane moved over in her bed and patted the space next to her, opening up an arm. Almost immediately, the pink haired queen bolted under the covers with her.

“You look so cute with your glasses on,” Kat commented sleepily. “What were you reading?” She tucked herself more into her mother’s side, if that was possible.

“Oh I was just scrolling through social media.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you. I’m just gonna get in my Mama cuddles.”

“Love you my dear.” The third queen pressed a firm kiss to the younger woman’s head before gently playing with her hair in hopes of lulling her to sleep- Katherine looked like she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days.

“Love you too Mum,” the pink queen murmured as she dozed off.

Jane held her phone in one hand and her daughter in the other. A few more minutes of scrolling through social media couldn’t hurt.

“Those who experienced childhood trauma are often referred to as ‘mature for their age’ or ‘old souls’ when actually we were children having to adopt intense coping mechanisms in order to survive as adults.”

In this moment, Jane realized the truth in that statement and connected it to the statement at the beginning of the article she had read earlier in the day. She didn’t feel as though she was alone and isolated, but maybe she was a bit more than she had initially thought. She had come from a rather big family in her past life, but she had always felt alone, never being able to relate to her other siblings. And in this life, she was surrounded by five wonderful women who would have her back no matter what, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly different from the rest of them- even if she was one of the younger queens.

In her past life, she had simply found coping mechanisms needed to survive. And those coping mechanisms had made their way into this life too. She rarely had to rely on these mechanisms now. Her heart was open to the five other queens she had the blessing of sharing a home with.

So, maybe being an old soul meant she had some trauma from her past life- she wasn’t there anymore. But being an old soul wasn’t such a bad thing as she walked through life. Maybe, she wasn’t as “stuck in the 21st century” afterall. Being an old soul was rare, and those who surrounded her loved her dearly for it.

[the-wales-5]

"Spooky beginnings"

2003. St. Andrews University.

"Catherine, we are going out soon. Will you join us? " one of Miss Middleton's roommates asked in the early evening

"No, I am not in a mood for that tonight" she replied without even looking at Olivia. 

She was focused on reading a book with horror stories she got from her sister as a birthday gift earlier in the year but had no chance to read it earlier.

"Okay, as you wish" Olivia said and left Catherine's room

"Have fun" Kate said after a few minutes, so she hadn't noticed that Olivia and some others had left the house already.

*

At 1:30 AM, Catherine finished reading the book.  More than 40 scariest stories were now written down in her mind as she was recalling them over and over. Blood, screams, ghosts, old haunted houses.. Girl got up from her bed, and as soon as she could, she put the book on the farest shelf away from her bed to not even see the cover of it. She decided to keep the light turned on and then covered herself with a duvet. Only her eyes were visible. Soon, she heard the sound of the wind outside, and it frightened her.

"O my gosh, I am so stupid!" she thought and got courage to get up off bed again and turn off the light. "I should not be thinking about it. At last those stories were fictional. Yes, totally fictional.." She sighed and closed her eyes but also quickly remembered what was written on the back of the book ("Some of the stories inspired by the reality events"). She rushed to sit on the bed again, nearly twisting her ankle in the process. "Shit, I have to calm myself down finally" she thought as pulling out her phone and started typing a text message to Pippa:

"40 horror stories read in the evening and now I'm sitting on the bed, feeling scared instead of enjoying time with my friends at a party. 'Thanks'. Oh, I forgot; I also nearly twisted my ankle but never mind. NEXT TIME GIVE ME A COOKBOOK INSTEAD, OKAY?. I will make sure to lend you that book with scary stories when I will be back at home over Christmas *evil laugh*. Bye ;) . Kate". 

She sighed in relief as thinking that sending a text would make her feel better but her heart was racing again as she thought about one of the stories from the book again and right then heard a weird sound (caused by the old floor in the room but her imagination runs wild so everything was frightening in that moment)..

Running towards the door of her room was never faster in Catherine's life. Alright, maybe during school days and competition but that doesn't count.

As she reached the corridor at the house she was hoping to see someone coming back from the party that would make her feel safer but it hadn't happened though.

"They all had to leave home tonight, and I had to plan to read that book tonight. Well, we are all stupid.. " she said quietly as preparing tea for herself, not aware that someone was staring at her.

Suddenly, she heard William's voice asking her: "Who's stupid?"

She screamed and shattered a cup.

-Kate, it's just me.. " William said, feeling surprised by her reaction 

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" She asked by still shouting and getting breathing difficulties because of shock

"Catherine.. What happened?" William asked as touching her arm

"I asked first" she replied in a cold voice

"I stayed at home, I was not in the mood to go out, just like you.. You could join me and watch some movie or something.."

She stared at him and then sat on the kitchen chair, giggling sarcastically.

"Yes, but instead, I have read a book with scary stories, and it frightened me totally.. And now I'm afraid to even come back to my room.."

"Well, you know, we can now fix the mistake you made. You can still go to my room and we will watch a movie

Catherine smiled a little and then said: "Good idea, but I hope it won't be a horror movie. I have enough of it already".

William nodded while smiling and then said: "But are you sure you're not sleepy? It's nearly 2 AM now"

"Sleepy? After more than 40 stories about murderers, ghosts, burying people alive, gunshots--"

"Okay, I get it, you are not sleepy. Try to stop thinking about it and go to my room and choose a movie, avoid horrors."

Catherine sighed but smiled a little once more, then asked "And you?"

"I will clean the mess you made here" William said as pointing at the shattered glass on the floor "and then I will made tea for both of us"

Kate nodded and then quickly went to William's room.

Soon, they were watching a movie and sipping on their tea as they sat close to one another.

Catherine sighed in relief and then said William's name quietly.

"What?" He asked as looking at her

"Thanks"

“But what for? For saving you from fear caused by a book?" William giggled

"Now you're joking?" Catherine wanted to get up from the sofa.

"I am not. No". He said and smiled a little bit “I am not joking, but I must admit I don't understand people who are frightened by books, even books with scary stories"

"I planned to lend that book to my sister because she's the one who gifted it to me, but now I realise I'll lend it to you first. Maybe then you will understand why I was frightened.."

"So you are not frightened anymore?" William looked into her eyes

"No.." Catherine blushed and then continued to watch a movie to avoid William's eyes.

She couldn't watch the movie till the end. She fell asleep at 3:15 AM while William was looking at her as still wondering what made her feel scared and so he felt intrigued by her book itself. He covered Catherine tightly with a duvet and nearly kissed on her forehead but stopped himself. They were only friends, nothing more had been said yet. Despite that, both of them could feel that a change of their relationship might be coming.

[smileforfelix]

ambulance

summary: in which park jisung falls off his skateboard and you're the only one to witness it

words: 1.5k

category: skater boy!jisung x fem!reader, fluff, like one curse word (if you count hell), mild injury (not described really)

a/n: this is like the first thing i’ve written that’s not a drabble so sorry if it’s literally all over the place. it’s inspired by prompt #362 from @creativepromptsforwriting​: 'They only realized they were holding hands the entire time, the moment they had to let go'. so please enjoy!

the harsh led lighting hurts your eyes as the bumpy road jostles your body around in the tiny bench on the side of the ambulance. lying in the middle of the car is a boy that you met approximately 10 minutes ago, and now you're riding with him to the hospital. it still puzzles you why you agreed to go with him when the emt asked, hell, you're still having trouble processing how he ended up in this ambulance in the first place.

. . .

earbuds blasting noah taylor (or whatever music you listen to), distracted by your instagram feed while walking home from school. consequently, the only thing you were aware of was the sidewalk beneath your feet, trying not to fall onto the concrete and hurt yourself. normally, the walk home was uneventful, despite the fact that the route home takes you through the plaza outside the strip mall in town. however, on this particular day, something happened that you would probably never forget. you see, this particular plaza has a lot of benches and fountains and stairs in it that made it difficult to walk through if you didn't know where you were going. nonetheless, after 3 years of taking the route, its safe to say that you no longer really need to pay attention to what's in front of you and just keep walking to get home as fast as possible to greet your cat. and, on this burning hot day, you were to preoccupied to see (and hear) the cute boy with the bleach blonde hair hurtling towards you on his neon orange skate board. 

fortunately for the both of you, your best friend's name popped up on your phone and you stopped to pick up the phone, preventing you from walking the foot forward that would cause you to collide with the boy. regardless, you felt the woosh of air that came with him hurtling past you, and you looked up just in time to see the boy's wheel get caught on the bench that came into his route when he swerved to avoid you, and get thrown off his board and down the short flight of stairs onto the sidewalk. 

looking around, the plaza appeared to be deserted, not unusual since it was 6:00 pm and most kids were at home eating dinner by now, and since you felt like it was kind of your fault he crashed, you hurried down the stairs to make sure he was okay. "hey, are you okay?" you ask while on your way, but no reply comes. thinking he's probably just disoriented you shrug it off, but he hasn't moved at all since he fell off his board. finally reaching him, you shake his shoulders, repeating your question. when still no response comes and he doesn't seem to be waking up or moving, you start panicking. "oh my god, uh what do i do, what do i do?" flows out of your mouth once you start panicking that maybe this, objectively very handsome, boy is not gonna wake up anytime soon, and maybe he's not okay. after all, he did fall down a flight of concrete stairs and probably hit his head somewhere at the bottom. "what's the logical move here? think (y/n), think. who do you call when someone gets hurt? ghostbusters 911!" dialing the 911, you keep your eye on the boy to make sure you know what's going on. "911, what's your emergency?" "there's this boy here, and i think he hit his head pretty hard, and he's really not moving, but there's not much blood and i really don't know what to do" you rush out to the dispatcher. "alright miss, stay calm, everything is going to be okay. can you tell me where you are?" "um yeah, yeah, i can. uh it's the, it's the shopping plaza on st. catherine, on the west side near the stairs in front of the pizza shop." "thank you miss, stay where you are and an ambulance is on it's way to you. it'll be there in about 8 minutes."

not really knowing what else to do while waiting for the ambulance to arrive, you tried shaking him one last time just to make sure he wasn't awake. upon receiving no response, you took out your phone and texted your mom, letting her know of the situation because she was supposed to be home by now. in the middle of her phone call, she heard a groan from next to her and you look over to see the boy open his eyes slowly, rubbing his forehead and looking around. "oh my god, are you okay?" "um actually, what happened?" the boy asked drowsily, still coming to his senses. "uh well, uh so you fell off your skateboard and down the stairs. i guess you hit your head pretty hard at the bottom. i was the only one here, so i called an ambulance. it should be here soon." you answered, letting him know of the situation. "oh. well thanks, i guess. uh but do you know where my board is? it's brand new and my mom is gonna kill me if i broke it." he says with newfound urgency in his voice. "i just told you you were going to get in an ambulance and your response is to make sure that your board is okay?" you exclaimed with surprise. "just stay there and don't move, i'll go get your board. it's up on the plaza." you explained. running up the stairs, you retrieve the orange board which, by some miracle, is in one piece and perfectly functioning. "thanks. what's your name by the way?" he asks. "i'm (y/n)." you reply "jisung. thanks for calling the ambulance and not just leaving me here." he adds while reaching for your left hand to shake. just as you introduce yourselves, the ear-piercing screech of the ambulance's sirens is heard and the ambulance comes into view not ten seconds later. the medics get out and hurry over to you and jisung, ensuring that he's okay and doing some preliminary exams. "it looks like we're gonna have to take you to the hospital do some more tests, just to make sure you don't have a concussion or anything else is wrong." the medic says, directing his words toward jisung. "will you be riding with us to the hospital, miss?" he asks you, raising an eyebrow. "ummm," you hesitate, but after looking at jisung and seeing the scared and pleading look on his face, you give in, deciding that since this accident is kind of your fault in the first place, you should see it through to the end. "yeah, i'll ride along with him." you stay with jisung as he's lifted in a stretcher to make sure nothing happens to his head, and sit by his side in the ambulance.

. . .

and that is how you found yourself here, in an ambulance with a stranger, not really knowing what to do next. you texted your mom the situation and how you ended up riding to the hospital as well. you remembered that you hadn't seen jisung text or call anyone, and just as you were about to ask him, you look up from you own phone to see the medics drilling the poor boy with questions, and you decide that maybe, just maybe, this isn't the right time to ask anyone anything. the bleach blond hair that covered his forehead and a little of his eyes, the cute nose scrunch he would do when the medics got too close, the brown eyes that were looking at you- wait, at you? you lock eyes and raise an eyebrow, causing his eyes to widen and his head to turn away. giggling at the boy, he was cute after all, you go back to scrolling on your phone with your right hand until the ambulance stops and you realize you were at the hospital. you get out of the ambulance alongside jisung, making eye contact with him and nodding to reassure him. "miss? i'm going to take him to his room now." the nurse said at the hospital. confused as to why she was informing you, you just nodded your head, and agreed. "i'm going to need you to let go of his hand, miss." he said, looking at you exasperated. blushing, you realize that since you and jisung have shaken hands waiting for the ambulance, you never let go. you slowly release his hand and watch as they take him down the hall to his room. turning away, you call your mom to tell her that everything is done, and ask if she can come pick you up. when she arrives, among the chaos of the emergency room, you leave the hospital thinking about the cute boy on the orange skateboard that just made a boring wednesday one of the most eventful days of your life.

[highgaarden]

7+57+67 sounds like an interesting mix for one fic for the great if u could 🥺🥺

as a special treat for reading this, you are all allowed to suspend your disbelief for extra enjoyment. 

prompt: peter/catherine + “a kiss for good luck?” + “i’m tired, just cuddle me.” + “is that my shirt?”

green was the grass;

The Swedes decide to visit one summer that could only be described as vividly sweltering. Hugo and Peter spend long afternoons yelling ‘rabbit’ and shooting at nothing; Agnes and Catherine take a turn about her private library, commenting on this title or that. Their first ever royal couple friends bring along with them dogs and cats and acrobats; hallon and körsbär and jordgubbar; theatre and art and a brand new printing press of the latest model.

Peter presents the grand appetizers of their summer dinner: pan-seared foie gras spelling out KING HUGO, and a relatively smaller queenagnes. Hugo giggles in glee.

Hugo takes an immense liking to smash bottles. Agnes kisses his ball before he swings it back - all but three of his bottles go down.

Two turns later Peter gets the same idea. He rushes to Catherine, who looks bewildered to have been pulled out of her commentary with Orlo. With unpracticed swiftness Peter pulls her up to him and presses a kiss to her lips.

“For luck,” he says when he pulls back. He has the temerity to wink at her.

Catherine wills her fingers not to to graze the spot  on her lips that Peter had touched with his.

&

The days continue.

The days get cooler.

On the first day of autumn Hugo and Agnes leave in a crash and bang of fireworks that Peter had insisted on. Many of the court suffered singed wigs for that night, all but Peter, who had pulled Orlo in front of his line of fire.

Hugo’s brilliant smile had dimmed somewhat by the time he climbed into his carriage, but all in all it was a pretty good visit.

And finally, there is peace and quiet in the court.

More importantly there is a tree on the edge of the vast greens that Catherine has a particular fondness for. It reaches up into the sky with the vigour of a child excited for first snowfall. In the winter it looks especially  dashing, and she used to enjoy imagining it in battle-weary uniform, finally come to take her away from this madness.

Now she mostly comes here to read the days away when her study feels too stifling. Back home she always had the run of the garden whenever she had a new book; mother knew well enough to leave her lunch on the little table father had set up just for her, and she would lay nestled in the roots of their great oak tree, turning pages with enraptured focus.

She cannot quite tether her joy the same way anymore, not since coming here. But it remains a pleasant respite. For once, she does not have to think about anything more pressing than the new tome Volti - as she had come to calling him as well much to Peter’s delight - had written. He had sent it to her with nothing but a little caricature of his wink scrawled on the cover, that French fuck.

She is barely a quarter way through when she hears the sound of panting and leaves breaking underfoot. She shifts under the blanket she’d brought along and tries to peer behind the thick trunk of the tree. Craning her neck, she sees nothing.

Someone taps on her shoulder, and she screams.

“Wife!” Peter yelps back.

“What are you doing here!” she splutters. In my sanctuary, she adds, silently dismayed.

“I run here,” Peter says too casually.

“You run in the woods on the north of the palace,” she accuses.

Peter shifts his gaze to the leaves overhead. “I have decided to try a new route.”

“This path is utterly uninteresting for a run.”

“I dare not say the same. It led me to you, did it not?”

Catherine falls silent, struck.

“I suppose you will be on your way now,” she prompts once she finds her voice. She looks pointedly down at her book, barely broken in.

“Oh, is that the new Volti?” Peter asks with interest, and with no invitation whatsoever crawls into the space her blanket allowed and grabs the the note Volti had written, slipped from the middle of the book, from her hand.

“Interesting,” Peter muses.

“You’re studying the diagram upside down.”

Unperturbed Peter just flips the note over and nods as if impressed. “Even more so!”

Catherine chuckles. “You are ridiculous, husband.”

“ You are the ridiculous one, isolating yourself on such a beautifully orange morning.”

“Perhaps I wanted the solitude.” Her lips twitch. “The quiet.”

“Do you not want for company?” Peter asks, a little too quickly to be feigned as glibness.

Catherine looks at him closer. “Do you?”

Peter just huffs. “I am tired and cold from my run. Shift over so the blanket covers both of us properly, thank you very much.”

Their knees knock together. The blanket was barely big enough to cover one person, let alone two. She has to practically sit between Peter’s legs. It didn’t occur to her that maybe she could have just let Peter have the whole blanket, it was not that col--

Peter’s breath ghosts her ear and she gives a full bodied shiver.

Forget it, it was cold alright.

Peter clears his throat and solemnly announces, “ Results of the execution of Jean Calas.”

Catherine hides her smile as Peter attempts to read what must be to him ancient Latin. She rests her chin on his shoulder as she reads with him, and every so often laughs when Peter says something stupid like, “I don’t know about you, but Volti’s hair seemed a little phallic on his last visit, did it not?”

“Just turn the page,” she says instead of confirming her agreement.

&

At the end of Winter it starts to heat up miraculously quickly. Everyone rejoices, and Peter demands a bonfire. The fire does not survive as long as everyone wants with the ground still so damp from melting snow still, but does its job in cheering the court.

Perhaps too good a job, because with the screens to bear the harsh cold of their winter still secured to the windows, it became an obstacle for the sudden heat spell and for Catherine, who was trying to adjust to the sudden warmth of the night.

It was odd: all winter she’d longed for a burst of heat, for her bed to be placed right next to the fireplace. Her night gown was not suited for the occasion: all at once it seemed too thick, too long. She huffs out in frustration as it becomes clear she won’t be able to sleep until she’s cooled.

She wishes for the thigh-grazing hems of Peter’s breezy tunics.

Her mind made up, she creeps her way down the hall and turns corners until she finds Peter’s quarters. He is sleeping soundly which she is grateful for, and makes her way as quietly as possible to his wardrobe. It is a little deeper than expected, perhaps put away to make space for the thicker clothes this winter demanded, but she finds what she is looking for. Shucking her nightdress quickly in favour of her husband’s shirt, she sighs when the cool material skims the skin over her shoulders, her stomach. She is comfortable in an instant.

In fact, Peter’s room was a lot cooler than hers. She frowns and goes to investigate.

Her eyes land immediately on the gash in the screen of his windows. The obvious tool for the crime was in an axe lying on the floor amongst splinters. Had he really smashed his screen in, in a fit of rage? Was she really all that surprised?

Not really.

At any rate, it isn’t fair that he gets to sleep in comfort while she absolutely writhed in the heat - in her lack of sleep she may have, perhaps, exaggerated the details a little.

Peter wakes immediately when she clambers into bed beside him, dipping her toes into his bed which is devoid of any warming pans. Of course. She had forgotten about them, too used to them by now to think anything out of the ordinary.

“Mmm,” Catherine sighs contentedly as she burrows herself deeper into the covers.

“I see you are reaping the benefits of my hard work,” Peter smirks. “You are lucky I have just learned that intolerance is humanly unlawful, so I suppose you may stay.”

“You suppose,” Catherine coos mockingly, and Peter blinks in her change of demeanour. He remembers distractedly that she had received word from home today. She is always extra bouncy whenever that happens. He wonders if her father had sent her any trinkets like last time, when he’d found her turning a little chess piece in her hands over and over again, her eyes sombre.

Peter decides to say nothing about it lest he break whatever spell she is in, but does tug his share of the blanket back to his side. He had not been exaggerating earlier; Catherine was hogging the sheets and he did not abide that.

Catherine rolls her eyes and relinquishes her grip on his blanket, and Peter stumbles once again.

“What are you wearing?” he asks dumbly.

“A tunic.” She sniffs. “It is objectively unjust how men have far more liberating choice in clothes.”

The candles that usually lit his brain had all gone out at the same time.

“I petition for you to decree corsets unnecessary for the coming spring and summer.” She leans in conspiratorially. “It would be most progressive.”

“Indeed,” he repeats, not understanding one bit. “Shall we - shall we get to writing?”

“In the morning,” Catherine says, satisfied. “For now let’s sleep so spring comes faster.”

Peter nods. Their thighs press together. He smells her hair. They fall asleep.

&

On the first day of spring he finds Catherine waiting for him at breakfast, standing in the first rays of sun, haloing her hazy silhouette her hazy silhouette revealing the natural shape of her body. She turns and grins at him.

When he reaches for her cheek, she lets him.

leave me prompts from here  + i’ll write something for you!

[sweetestrequiems]

Wishing for the Normal

Summary: When Catherine Parr and Anne Boleyn go to Peaks for their open mic night to support Katherine Howard, the couple get pulled up by the young woman to sing a duet. With a giggle, she, and the three other ladies at their table cheer them on. Boleyn and Parr grab the microphones, and just hope for the best from this experience.

Character(s): Parrlyn (Anne Boleyn / Catherine Parr) Katherine Howard Jane Seymour / Catherine of Aragon (Catalina) / Anna of Cleves

A/N: Kit + Soho Cinders + Parrlyn = Ideas.

Moral of the story: don’t leave me alone to think. I will think and it will come out on paper. This is inspired by Soho Cinders’ most iconic number, “Wishing for the Normal.”  Because this takes place in the universe of Out of a Book, some of the references and places might not make sense. It will all be explained in due time. And you all can bet your little tails the whole song is written out.

This is also my apology to all of you who dealt with my total chaos earlier. I love all of you and I am so sorry you had to witness me being a huge nerd and evil gremlin.

Tag List: @bchcadcd | @watercolored-lemonade

––––––––––

Thursday nights were for coffee, laughter, and open mic nights at Peaks Coffee Company.

It was a tradition, for the six ladies to go to Peaks whenever Katherine was back in town from classes. It happened to be the winter break, and the ladies were all excited to go out together. It was about 7 on the dot when the ladies got there. Catherine gently pulled on Anne’s arm, leading her to one of the cozy corners. Close enough that they could see Katherine perform whenever she decided to go up there, but far enough that the two could have a nice conversation. It was bliss for the two of them, as they thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company, even with other people around. “I always love coming here with you, Cathy,” Boleyn whispers, leaning on Parr and resting her head on Parr’s shoulder. “There’s just good memories with this place. I feel like such a saddo for saying that.”

“Don’t. And you’re no saddo! I agree, this place... it has very nice memories,” Parr chuckled. With a glance up, Parr noticed the other ladies approaching. Catalina set one of the mugs down in front of Parr, and another in front of Boleyn. Sitting up, Boleyn nodded as a thank you, a smile coming across the mellow face. Katherine sat right next to Parr, Jane was right in front of Katherine, Catalina was in front of Parr, and Cleves was in front Boleyn. “I swear, I wonder how I would live without you, Lina,” bringing the mug up to her lips, Cathy took a sip of her coffee. Catalina just shook her head, grinning. “You wouldn’t be alive at all. You would literally die from drinking nothing but coffee and not eating.”

Laughter came from Cleves and Seymour.

“Considering all she does is stay in her room, yeah. I don’t doubt it! Sie schläft auch nicht, oder?” Anna gave a cheeky smile, with Catherine’s face being so deadpan at the comment, she just chose to roll her eyes as a response. “I do sleep, thank you very much. It only takes me three hours to fall asleep because I spend two of those writing.” Catalina raised an eyebrow at the response, knowing Parr stayed up late at night unless she had to be up before 8 am. There was more laughter at the table.

“Sleeping is important,” Seymour nodded over at Katherine, “and this one could tell you all about it. You slept last night when you got home, right?” The youngest of the ladies nodded with sincerity. “Yeah! I stay up late sometimes with homework, Miss Parr. If I learned one thing about uni, it’s that balancing sleep and homework is difficult. So I definitely get why you stay up at night. I do the same thing,” Katherine allows her smile to shine, Parr letting out a bit of a laugh. “You’re not wrong. Balancing sleep and work is very difficult. Now, how long are you going to keep us waiting, star in hiding?”

That’s where the mischievous smirk came from Katherine Howard. “I’m not singing tonight, actually.”

The other five women stared at Katherine with wide eyes, in actual shock that the reason they normally came on Thursday nights was not the center of attention. Digging through the backpack she brought, the youngest of the group pulled out a binder, and handed it to Parr. A second one got pulled out, and was handed to Boleyn; the third she kept in front of her. “I’m showing off my piano skills tonight, and you two are going to sing for me while I play!”

The look on Anne Boleyn’s face was one of fear, and the one on Catherine Parr’s face was total embarrassment. The couple looked at each other, and gulped in unison. Boleyn had a blush running across her face, but more notably across her cheeks and nose. “I... Sing? You want us to sing?”

“Why not?”

Parr felt her face lose color. “I... we’re not singers, Katherine.” This was the instance where Parr reached for the coffee and began to down it like water on a hot day. Catalina raised an eyebrow, with a more confused look this time. Anna however, began to actually laugh. She knew that habit of hers all too well. Jane was looking at Katherine with furrowed eyebrows, but her face was full of confusion, much like Catalina’s. Sucking in a nervous breath, Parr stood up, setting the mug down. “Okay, Katherine. I’ll sing.”

Anne Boleyn let out a shaky sigh, but she nodded and also stood up. “I’ll do it too. What are we singing, Kat?”

Standing up, Katherine took her binder and opened it up, skipping to the keyboard up on the stage. She sat down on the chair, setting up with a little too much excitement. All she did was let her right hand play the first few measures of the song. “Wishing for the Normal from Soho Cinders! I’m sure you’ve both heard of it. You’re both English, right?” A rather awkward moment of silence, before the two women nodded. “This will be fun, come on!”

If there was one thing Katherine loved about majoring in music, it was the fact she got to play piano. She loved it. And just to make Anne and Catherine feel comfortable, she slowed down the beginning.

Raising the microphone up to be near her lips, Anne hid the nervousness with a smile. “Just imagine pouring your cornflakes, looking up and someone's there. Someone you have just spent the night with, someone’s life you're proud to share! Haven't put my face on, haven’t done my hair. Haven't had to worry, as it’s her standing there.”

The piano began to pick up a little pace. Catherine was going to match it, with a similar smile to Anne’s. “Just imagine out on the dance floor, turning ‘round and there she is. It's your lady, the one you came in with, three years on, your hand in hers. Living in a semi, maybe have a cat. Nothing that's too fancy, tell me what's wrong with that?”

Looking up from the music for a brief moment, Katherine Howard began to smile.

The couple looks at each other, the nervous smiles seeming to grow into genuine ones. The two nodded, knowing they had to sing on together. “Wishing for the normal kind of dream. Nothing too excessive or extreme. Hoping for the hum-drum, is that aiming high? Others seem to find it, tell me why on earth can't I?”

Catalina’s jaw could honestly hit the floor with how impressed she was. Anna just had a wide-eye expression that screamed her shock for her. Jane was thoroughly impressed by all of this, but mostly by Katherine’s piano playing ability. 

“Wishing for the normal kind of dream. Trouble is they're harder than they seem. Am I too ambitious? Am I out of touch? Am I wishing for too much?”

Frantically flipping the pages, both ladies chuckled while the piano kept on going behind them. Lucky Parr, she got to start off this time. “Just imagine cooking lasagna, like those adverts on TV.” And the biggest smile came out of Boleyn with this line. She just felt all warm and fuzzy from the fact she was spending time with her girlfriend. “Sitting on a fake leather sofa, babies bouncing on my knee.”

“Living within reason, loving when I can. Feeling I am someone, not some sad old lass.”

Almost instinctively, as if she knew Katherine would start playing softer, Anne made her voice softer. She could only hope Catherine would follow. The other three at the table began to smile, quietly cheering them on from their spot. “Just imagine mowing the lawn.”

And the hopes came true, because Parr did soften up her voice. “Just imagine popping some corn.”

Even Katherine Howard herself was cheering them on from the piano. She wanted to laugh, but really couldn’t, so... she did what she does best. Giggle it out.

Boleyn’s free hand reaches down for Parr’s, with the two allowing their fingers to interlock. The look on her face said it all, she was smitten by this woman in front of her. “Just imagine breakfast in bed.” “Just imagine owning a shed,” Parr let out a chuckle right after the lyrical line. She was not one to sing, but this was an exception she was happy to have made. Memories were all she wanted, and memories was what she was getting.

“Just imagine doing the school run.”

“Going for picnics.”

“Keeping a goldfish!”

A laugh from the two. They nodded again, allowing themselves to sing right on through to the end. “Wishing, wishing! Hoping for the hum-drum, is that aiming high? Others seem to find it, tell me why, why, why can’t I? Wishing for the normal kind of dream. Trouble is they’re harder than they seem.”

At this point, the table was standing up. Catalina was nodding along with Anna, but Jane? Jane was already clapping. “Go ladies!” The blonde woman giggled, happy to see some of her now closest friends so happy with each other.

“Going to a nightclub, cinemas and such,” Boleyn’s eyes finally met Parr’s. “Eating in a restaurant, happy to go dutch,” the smile on Parr’s face grew from seeing Boleyn’s smile grow as well. 

“Am I too ambitious? Am I out of touch? Am I wishing far too much?” And while the two lovebirds stared at each other, their young pianist allowed herself to continue the instrumental, even playing the accompaniment to the last few lyrics they had forgotten. Laughing, Katherine Howard stood up and started clapping. “You two sounded amazing!”

“Go Cathy!” “Way to go Anne!” “I’m proud of you, Kitty!”

The couple just kept looking at each other, with laughs eventually coming from them both. As much nerves as they had to fight, they loved every second of it. Being just a smidge taller, Catherine Parr leaned downwards to peck Anne Boleyn’s lips, but little was she expecting for Anne to actually stand on the tips of her toes to meet her halfway. “You sly little rascal you!”

“You love me.” Anne set the microphone back on the stand, before grabbing the binder off of the stand and walking herself back to the table. Parr just laughed, repeating all of Anne’s actions before sitting down next to her. Katherine Howard, however, remained on the stage and allowed herself to continue to play whatever came to her mind. For the duration of however long they would stay, there would be a newfound sort of joy in the ladies, and the soft lullaby of a piano in the background. 

[martelldoran]

Ave Maria

Title: Ave Maria

Fandom: MCU

Ship: Steve/Bucky

NSFW: No

Summary: 

And Bucky loved him.

It was clear to him now as he sat, head bowed, at his bedside. He had almost lost him, could lose him still, and if that were to happen, he knew that he would lose the very best part of himself.

“How am I supposed to live without you?” he whispers, daring to take Steve’s hand in his own.

Steve has only gone and got himself hurt. Again. So, Bucky keeps a watchful vigil over his friend and struggles with newly realised feelings.

Written as part of @hogwartsonline‘s Dialogue OWLs from the prompt, “How am I supposed to live without you?”. Thank you to @stevenroguers for beta-ing. <3

Read on AO3 or Keep Reading here

Steve’s face is ashen and he looks like death is courting him. Bucky should be at school but he can’t face it. Not when Steve almost died.

He’s kneeling on the floor, the bare wooden boards digging into his knees.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena ,” he mutters, tracing unwilling fingers over his pa’s old rosary.

He doesn’t think it’ll do much good. When has God ever listened to him? But he considers, maybe he’d listen to him today. Or if not him, then maybe his Holy Mother in all her mercy. If only they’d save Steve. Steve, who is good, Steve, who doesn’t deserve to die because he was trying to do the right thing.

“Please, please don’t die on me now. I’ll do anything, give anything .”

The woman who found him bleeding on the sidewalk said he’d sliced himself open trying to vault a fence after running from some asshole with a shiv. She didn’t know why he was being chased, but Bucky could hazard a guess. The guy woulda been ragging on some dame or a skinny, knock-kneed kid and Steve woulda seen and thought, “Not on my watch.”

Bucky didn’t need to know the details because there have been plenty of other assholes Steve has insisted on putting in their place over the years. It didn’t matter that he was barely scraping 5’4” or that he weighed about as much as a Raggedy Ann doll, the boy loved a cause.

And Bucky loved him.

It was clear to him now as he sat, head bowed, at his bedside. He had almost lost him, could lose him still, and if that were to happen, he knew that he would lose the very best part of himself.

“How am I supposed to live without you?” he whispers, daring to take Steve’s hand in his own.

It feels much too small and his skin is cold and clammy. Bucky’s afraid he might break him if he grips too tight. He strokes his thumb across Steve’s knuckles and imagines what it might be like to walk down the street holding this hand. But, as quick as the thought surfaces, he pushes it away, pushes it far down, where no-one, not even he, can see it.

Bucky swallows with a shudder and grips his rosary once more.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena ,” he prays, a tremor running through the familiar words. “Holy Mother, don’t let him die. Have mercy on his soul. Take mine instead even if it’s only worth half as much. The world needs more people like him.”

Steve is meant for more than this, Bucky knows it, has known it for years. All he has to do is make it a few years further, until he's grown, and can take the entire world by storm. And Bucky will stand by his side through it all if Steve will  have him.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena . You’re not so cruel to take him just yet. I pray thee intercede on his behalf, it is not yet his time.

“ Pater noster, qui es in caelis . Will talking directly to you work better? If you damn me, will you save him? Do you hear me, Father? It’s a fair exchange, isn’t it? Take me because I tell you this, I’d let you do it - a thousand times over.”

“James, darlin’? Won’t your ma be wonderin’ where you’re at?” Sarah Rogers’ voice reaches him from the door. Bucky starts. He hadn’t heard her approach. She is silhouetted against the light from the hall but Bucky can see how her worried eyes flicker over her son’s prone body.

Bucky scrambles to his feet, knees protesting after too many hours spent kneeling.

“No, she knows I’m here. I phoned her from the hospital before we left,” he says fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Please, I’d like to stay. If I can?”

“Of course. Stay as long you like,” she says and enters the room fully.

Sarah looks tired, Bucky notes. Her face is drawn and she won’t stop wringing her hands. She approaches the bed and perches at Steve’s side, pushing back his fringe from his sweat soaked forehead. He moans in his sleep and tries to lean into a touch that was barely there. Bucky averts his eyes, it feels like a private moment.

“Are you hungry?” she asks him after a moment, voice tight and tired.

He shakes his head, not wanting to be even more of a burden than he already is even though it has been hours since he’s eaten anything. He hopes that the yawning hole in his stomach won’t give him away. With a heavy sigh, she raises her eyes towards him. It seems as though she might cry.

“I have to work . . .”

“I won’t leave.”

She nods, placated. At least there would be someone with him if the worst was to happen. Bucky shoves the thought away.

Steve’s breathing is shallow and ragged, rattling around his chest like a marble in a beaker. Sure, it rattles at the best of times but this feels different. Death is wet on his breath and her pale fingers are on his cheek.

Bucky resumes his vigil.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena .”

Bucky wakes, hours later bent over the side of the bed with a crick in his neck and strain up his left side. Blinking, confused and with aching knees, he struggles up. Darkness has enveloped the room in a cool embrace and it’s deathly silent.

A horrible thrill of panic shoots through him and he’s climbing across the bed, holding a hand over Steve’s face.

“No, no, no,” he moans, holding very still. “Please be breathing.”

He is. It’s faint but it tickles across his palm like a welcome breeze on a hot day. Bucky sags, his head coming to rest on Steve’s thin chest as he offers up another prayer.

Oh, if only Sister Catherine could see him now. She’d probably piss herself with joy. Finally, the Lord’s good teaching had come home to roost. She’d think he was a proper good Catholic boy in this state, reciting all his prayers nice and proper. But none of this is for her benefit, the Lord’s benefit or even Bucky’s benefit. No. It’s all for Steve. Steve who’s too doped up to pray for his own immortal soul.

So, it’s Bucky’s responsibility to offer up the right words and make sure whoever is listening knows exactly who Steve Rogers is. He couldn’t care one jot about himself. As far as he's concerned, there is nothing waiting for him on the other side but he won’t condemn his friend on his own misgivings.

He settles next to him on the narrow bed, trying not to jostle his still healing body lest he bust open all those neat stitches. There’s a murmur and Steve scoots closer, a frown pulling at his already pinched features. It just about breaks his goddamn heart. With gentle fingers, he pushes Steves’s hair away from his forehead and lets out a low, long breath.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena .” And so the cycle begins again.

With every new repetition, he tries to put as much feeling, as much concentration as he possibly can into it but his mind keeps wandering. He’d never been much good at praying. His ma would scold him for fidgeting during Mass and Becca would get all prissy because she knew the prayers better than he did. It wasn’t his fault. His mind couldn’t stay still, so it always wandered off someplace nicer than the badly lit, stuffy chapel they found themselves in every Sunday.

Usually, it was only bearable because Steve was there too. Half the time his ma was working so they took him, crammed him onto their pew shoulder to shoulder with Bucky who would try his darndest to distract him. Of course, ever the good, god fearing and pious child, he’d swat him away with a reserved smile even when Bucky would pinch the backs of his legs just to get a rise. It never worked but he liked it, relished it, even, because it made him feel important. It made him feel seen.

Well, it’s a damn good thing no-one can see him now with his rumpled shirt, bleary eyes, and hedgerow hair. He is a mess and he’ll be a mess for days to come. He doesn’t plan on going home until he knows Steve will recover. He will. He has to. Bucky will make him. He can do that, right? Because if he can’t, then he’s not sure if he can face what his life will be otherwise either.

He works his way through the rosary again, rubbing each bead with renewed fervour, as if the pressure he exerts correlates directly to how much holy power he can divine. Steve snuffles in his sleep, hooking an arm around Bucky’s leg.

“ Salve Regina, mater misericordiae, vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve. Ad te clamamus exult- exsus - ex- No? Shit.” He could never remember this one.

Fuck the Salve Regina. It was his least favourite prayer.

“ Exsules filii Hevae ,” rasped a thin voice by his side.

“Stevie,” Bucky breathes, dropping the rosary into his lap as if electrified. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They flutter for a moment before one settles on Steve’s back. His pajamas are soaked through and he’s shivering, hands trembling something terrible as he tries to push himself into a seated position. “No, no. Don’t try and sit, you’ll bust your stitches, you goon. Lay back.”

With a groan he does as he’s told. He only ever seems to do that when he’s at death’s door but Bucky takes the victory, small though it may be.

“Water,” croaks Steve. His lids hang heavy, obscuring the blue of his eyes and he can’t seem to focus on anything but he gropes for Bucky’s hand, giving it a squeeze before Bucky pushes off the bed to fulfill the gasped request.

“Here, you go.”

Bucky holds the glass in one hand, supporting Steve’s head with the other as he takes tiny kitten-like sips.

“Sister Catherine would beat your ass for not knowing the Salve,” he tells him when he’s finished, voice breathy as he leans back against the pillows, eyes closed. The faintest hint of a smile curling across his lips.

“Well, it’s a good thing Sister Catherine isn’t here then, isn’t it,” Bucky retorts, rising easily to the bait.

Steve sniggers which turns into a cough which turns into a wince that has him clutching at his belly. Bucky frowns, hands hovering above his friend’s stomach, unsure. Closing his eyes, he takes a breath and chews on his bottom lip, considering his options. He needs to check his stitches and, really, he should get him something clean to wear. If he keeps on shivering like this then it won’t just be the threat of infection they’ll be fighting. Another bout of pneumonia and then the writing really would be on the wall.

That settles it.

With quick, deft fingers, head now feeling blissfully clear, Bucky strips off Steve’s pajama top. The stitches are holding, thank God, so he redresses the wound and then redresses his friend. His chattering teeth still but now, he's keening. The pain meds have worn off and the full, fiery pain down the length of his belly has returned.

Bucky attends to him as best he can. He gives him water and what little food he can bear eating but mostly he sits by his side, serving as an easy distraction. At Steve’s insistence, he squashes into the bed alongside him, letting him rest against his side while he talks. He doesn’t know what he’s saying half the time– he’s rambling ceaselessly to take Steve’s mind off the pain. He tells him about Dorothy, the redhead in his class who’s been making eyes at him, the neighbour’s dog who keeps yapping at all hours of the night, and that he thinks Becca will make a great nurse one day.

“Just like your ma, Stevie,” he says in hushed tones. “Maybe they’ll work in the same hospital. Wouldn’t that be grand? She might be her mentor.”

Sometimes, Steve grunts in response, but mostly he stays silent, breathing still shallow but looking a bit more peaceful.

As he speaks, Bucky’s voice quivers, straining under the pressure of remaining calm and in control for his friend. It wouldn’t help anybody to have him falling to pieces - at least on the outside. Inside, he feels like he’s breaking, like he’s being torn apart piece by grizzly piece. The shock of almost losing him is wearing off now; it’s still rocked him to the bone, but Steve’s ribbed him, tried to make jokes, he’ll be fine. Of course, he’ll be fine. He has to be fine. No, it’s the realisation that the very axis of Bucky’s world now revolves around the boy curled into his side that keeps his mind occupied throughout the night’s steady march towards daybreak.

People out there would have some helluva strong opinions if they found out. He knows what happens to boys like him. Pressing his lips together, Bucky stares up at the ceiling and blinks back the tears that have gathered at the corners of his eyes.

No, he won’t cry. Not about this. Love is supposed to be a glorious, wonderful thing. Didn't Jesus die out of love? Wasn’t God supposed to be all loving and forgiving of all sins?

Except this didn’t feel like a sin.

It felt like salvation.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena . Have mercy on my soul.”

[dannineedsfriends]

A Favour - Parrlyn Part 1

About a week into the second half-term of the year was exponentially and quintessentially annoying. Cathy was cold, irritable and tired and being too paranoid to delay school for coffee, she was grouchy. Constantly. Yet the uncaffeinated version of herself was outwardly positive and inwardly demonic, which is extremely detrimental in the long run, when people ask you to do their homework for them.

  She found it hard to say no to people in the first place, and now that the internal demon had latched itself, like a leech, to her soul, she was most definitely going to pretend to be very enthusiastic and happy, when she's digging herself into a sad hole to the underworld. So when Anne Boleyn came sliding into the seat across from her, she was preparing herself for total anarchy. 

  "Before you say a word, yes. I'll do it." Cathy sighs, knowing the exact words that were about to erupt from the girl's mouth. 

  "Okay good. So if you're into pussy, I need a desperate favour from you for like 3 months." Anne's face has lit up with relief, and she leans eagerly forward onto the table, not at all detecting the realisation of 'fuck' plastered across Catherine's face.

  "Hey- no- no no no -" she defends. "I never said that-"

  "No take-backs! You're helping me now." She smiles sweetly, and the tone leaks into her voice. Boleyn has a high reputation for never needing anything from anyone, taking no bullshit, and being extremely defiant. What would she possibly want from Parr? 

  "You do realised that you definitely tricked me, right?" 

  "I know exactly what I'm doing now shush, smarty pants! So - I need you to pretend to date me for maybe half a year--"

  "You just said thre-"

  "You have no right to interrupt me." She brushes her comment aside. "Because I may or may not have bragged about the fact I was seeing a really beautiful girl, who's super smart, for ages and now people want to actually know who she is."

  Anne leans over to over Cathy's hands with her own, grabbing her fingers and squeezing them. "This is a thing now. And you can't stop it." 

  The smile the girl gave her as she bounced away was unnerving. What the fuck just happened? From what she could understand in such a short time, she was no longer single. For six months. But not really not single because it was fake? She sighs and scribbles out her plans for the weekend, written on her hand. 

  Cathy wasn't exactly sure how she was even supposed to contact Anne, considering that they had never had a conversation, let alone any form of contact outside of the school ground. She realised that she was watching Anne walk away when she noticed her turn around, as if realizing the same thing before trudging back, throwing her bag on the chair and raking through it, before taking out a small piece of paper and slamming it down in front of her. 

  "Now I can leave." 

--

  Every time she saw Anne from that point on, her life was a living nightmare. Catherine didn't even like talking to friends - let alone a random girl from school claiming to be her girlfriend, when she was straight. 

  Cathy always enjoys coffee alone on a Saturday morning, before going to the library to continually revise or return some-book-or-other. She sat on the table, the one near the window, farthest from the door. She has her coffee black, with one sugar: she had often been told that someone's coffee order reflects a person and considering hers was pretty bitter, she assumes it's of relative accuracy. 

  She runs a hand through knotted curls, left down for once and they parade down her shoulders, concealing her face more than she cared for as she stared out the window at nothing in particular. Or at least nothing until a figure dressed in all black crossed over the road and threw their hood down, waving vigorously to her attention. Anne. 

  Cathy groans and turns away from the window. Now? Really? There were somethings in life that happen at the wrong time, and this was one of them, she decides. Her hands clench the warmth of the coffee cup, eyes squeezed shut and hoping that the prosecutor of her doom would spring through the door and bother her. Someone, somewhere was trying to severely mess up her day.

  Quiet webs of mumbling embrace the room and bring comfort to Cathy, who is still trying to  indoctrinated herself into believing that Anne wasn't going to walk in and sit down in front of her. 

  "Why do you have your eyes closed?" a confused voice calls abruptly from across from her. She opens her eyes to see the black-lathered figure that was Anne Boleyn. Gremlin energy at its finest. 

  "No reason. I was meditating, it has a very calm atmosphere in here." Catherine nods slowly, taking a slow sip from her cup, inhaling loudly to exemplify her tranquility. She wasn't exactly lying to her, either. Sometimes she did meditate here, briefly and uncomfortably, but the smell of the shop gave her a sense of safety and wellbeing. 

  She catches Anne looking her over with slightly squinted eyes and for once, she doesn't look like she's about to rip Cathy's outfit to shreds. The girl stands up, putting her bag in the seat. 

  "Wait here a minute? I just want to get a drink." 

  She nods and Anne walks to join a cue, coming back about five minutes later, smiling gratefully, as if she was expecting Cathy to get up and leave before she got back. 

  "What'd you get?" She questions curiously, placing her cup down on the table to look into hers. 

  "Fruity tea! You wanna try some?" She pushes the cup across the table. 

  "Are you sure? What if I have herpes?"

  "Do you?" Anne cocks an eyebrow. 

"No…?" 

"Then take a drink!" 

  Cathy watches her for confirmation before taking a sip, eyebrows furrowing as she tastes it. "I don't know if I like it. Nah. You keep that shit."

  She gently pushes the cup back across the table and gets her own drink to get the taste out of her mouth. 

  "Says the one drinking black coffee. Like some sort of demon-" 

  "I'm not a demon! Milk makes coffee disgusting and it gives me energy. Shush yourself."

  "Uh-huh, uh-huh. Suit yourself, Cathy." Anne smirks, finger tracing the rim of the plastic lid. 

  "I can hear the sarcasm in your tone, and don't give me those eyes, Annie." She counters, running a hand through her hair again, feeling the corners of her lips curling into a smile. 

  Anne grins through gritted teeth. "What a lovely nickname."

  "I know you love it, Annie." She sings, tilting her head to one side as if to antagonize her that slight bit more, and to her surprise, Anne starts laughing. 

  This seemingly immortal, and extremely annoying, being was laughing. It's bubbly and as her smile grows wider, she throws her head back for brief seconds before her eyes find Cathy's. Why was she laughing so much? 

  Anne sips at her tea, the smile lasting way longer as she watches Cathy. "I'm super hungry right now. How would you feel about going and getting some food with me, after we've finished here?" 

--

  After Anne had offered to walk her home, Cathy began to feel more appreciative of being stuck with the girl for so long. If she was this nice all the time, then it was practically a dream come true, if she was completely honest. Though she still had her moments of being annoying, they became more and more playfully annoying, less maliciously annoying, as before. 

  "So…" Anne drawls, walking close to her. "Are you free later on this evening? Late on tonight-ish."

  "Is it a girlfriend thing?" She asks slowly, contemplating her words carefully, and Anne nods in response. "What do I even need to do..?"

  She shrugs. "Give me a nickname. I don't care wha--"

  "Annie."

  "Okay." She hesitates, forgetting her words and not wanting to say something completely unorthodox. "Maybe hold my hand? Whatever comes naturally?"

  Cathy nods slowly, their shoulders brushing against each other as they walked down the streets. It was still mid-morning, and it was relatively quiet outside, the only other sounds being passing cars and the squawking of unseen birds, the rest of the space filled with their voices. 

  "Am I supposed to wear anything nice..-? I don't have any party-suitable outfit, to my recollection."

  "Who on Earth uses the word recollection in a normal conversation? I swear you speak like you're constantly writing an essay." Anne rambles, shaking her head and brushing hair behind her ears and looking over at Cathy. "But honestly anything's fine. Wear jeans and a shirt, and that's about it. We can ditch the shirt on the way home, if you get me."

   It takes a moment for the comment to register before Cathy realises and playfully smacks her arm. "We are keeping our clothes on, thank you very much."

  "Ohhhh, so you're that type, huh?" 

  "Anne Boleyn, I swear to God-" Anne snickers at her anger. 

  "But yeah! Honestly anything's fine. Come what you're in now- you look pretty."

  Cathy scoffs and stops in front of her house, shaking her head to Anne. "Thank you for walking me home, but you really didn't have to."

  The other girl just smiles at her as if to say: you know I did. She's still thankful nonetheless and gives a small wave as she opens her door, turning around one last time to blow her a cheeky kiss, before closing the door behind her. 

--

  Cathy walked to the address of said party, waiting for Anne outside, where she had been messaged to meet her, hugging her cardigan around herself and looking both ways down the street again, eyes raking through the darkness and finally the vivid sound of sandals hitting the pavement sounds behind her. She turns and sees the one and only Anne Boleyn tearing down the street in dungaree-shorts and sandals, which she inferred to be the worst possible decision of clothing in the middle of November.  

  The girl steams to a halt in front of her, breathing wildly with the biggest grin on her face, red lipstick coating her lips and apparently part of her chin. Cathy steps forward to her, taking her face in one hand and using her thumb to wipe away the straying lipstick. 

  "You scruff. What am I, your mother?"

  Anne grins into her hands, wrapping her arm over her neck and kissing her jaw softly, moving to whisper in her ear. "They're watching us through the gap in the curtain. They think we don't know they're there."

  Cathy shakes her head softly and pulls away from her. "Can you lead in? I've never been to a party and I'm nervous."

  Anne makes a comment about her being nervous at everything but leads anyway, knocking briefly before letting herself in. 

  "THE GREMLIN'S ARRIVED." Cleves shouts from the couch, Kitty next to her grinning and turning to look at  the two girls stood in front of the door. 

  "Who's the random girl-thing-?" Kitty asks ambiguously, referencing to Parr and pointing a single finger, lazily. 

  Aragon, at the statement of her friend pops her head around the door frame to catch a glance at the two unsuspecting lovers. "Are you kidding me? She's real?"

  "Duh she's real. Why else would I say she existed?" Anne narrows her eyes to slits and shakes her head, taking Cathy's hand and leading her in to the rest of the girls, all lounging around. 

  Practically as soon as they sit down, the blonde girl, who Parr finds out is referred to as 'Jane', 'Seymour' or even 'Mother Seymour', moves away to sit on the floor and then she watches the four girls form a semicircle around Anne and herself, and she clenches her hand. 

  "What're they doing..-?" Cathy whispers softly into Anne's ear, and she earns a shrug in response, unsure herself. 

  "I'm Catherine..?" She says louder, and her voice ceasing to shake, to the credit of her emotional stability. 

  "So then Catherine. When exactly did you and our dearest Anne Boleyn here meet?" Cleeves presses, a wicked smile spreading across her lips.

  Her eyes widen and she shifts slightly. "Ah- gosh. We- uh. We met in school. She wasn't in any of my lessons- but she caught my eye because she was so beautiful and- and we got talking." she nods, certain and looking over at Anne with an affectionate smile. 

  Kitty's the one that presses it even further. "Out of curiosity, how in this entire galaxy did you choose to fall in love with Anne Boleyn?? When did it happen?"

  She wipes the look of surprise off of her face and lets out a shallow breath. "If I'm honest, it wasn't a choice. It was something that just happened all of a sudden and I don't exactly know how- but the moment I think I decided that I had fallen for her was when she decided to walk me home from getting coffee, on our first date. It wasn't planned either, she just showed up and sat down and shoved tea down my throat..- and then all of a sudden she was walking me home and I wanted her to stay so badly."

  Anne's staring at her from the seat beside her, a stupid grin teasing her lips and she purses them to hide it, hands interlocking at the base of her own neck. Cathy ignores the look of her, scared of the reaction she's getting from her, and her gut begins to drop when she realises that she meant every single one of her words. 

  "And how long did it take for her to bed you, hm?" 

  "Well… she hasn't yet… She desperately wanted to, but I wanted our first time to be special and not hiding from the kids in the school bathrooms." Cathy shoots her a glance and Anne's jaw has dropped to the floor, and a surprise looks across her face as if to say: how did she know?

  Aragon grins, interjecting to the conversation. "Since we're getting into these juicy kind of details, does Anne have any weird kinks that she's told you about?"

  Catherine crosses and uncrosses her legs anxiously. "Uh.. to the discretion of Anne, I won't reveal that answer."

  "conFIRMED: ANNE BOLEYN HAS A PISS KINK" Cleves stands up and yells, followed by Anne herself shortly after. 

  "Okay! That's enough. Leave her alone." She announces loudly, turning back to her with an apologetic look. 

  "She didn't deny it..-" Anna mumbles, dipping her chin and turning to the other girls. 

  Anne sits back down, closer to Cathy then before, putting her chin on her shoulder as the room breaks put into general conversation. "Thank you, for that." She whispers, smiling at the lipstick mark against her jaw, deciding not to tell her because it made her beauty more authentic. 

  Cathy turns to her, shrugging the shoulder that Anne wasn't leant on. "I do try, y'know. And that's now fifty quid, please. Pay up, gremlin." 

  "I'm not paying you shit until I get my money's worth, thank you very much. And I'm paying you in kisses because I'm poverty." Anne grins, hand raising to push a curl behind Cathy's ear, and to her bewilderment, she doesn't object to it. In fact, she leaves her hand there, resting against her head and she watches as the girl gently closes her eyes and leans into the touch. "That's gay."

  With that, she gets up from leaning into Anne's hand, shifting to look towards her more. "You are literally a lesbian, what do you want from me?"

  "She wants pussy!" A perfectly timed comment from another conversation makes Parr grin and purse her lips to stifle a laugh. 

  "I mean- she's not wrong." Anne admits. "I'm either horny or sad, constantly and at this point I can't tell the difference between the two." 

  "Wow. You should probably get a girlfriend sometime soon." She shrugs, watching her lips and the velvet-red colour that covers them. 

  "Mhm." Anne hums, tilting her head as her eyes wash over Catherine. "Hopefully, soon, yeah."

  She drags her eyes away from the scarlet lipstick, and back to around the room, scanning each person carefully. "Since when was this a 'party'?" 

  "Well… this is our version of a party. We usually don't drink or anything, because we look to have a combined age of six years." Catherine can't help but glance down at Anne's bra, which she could clearly see through her shirt. 

  "Uh-huh. Yeah-" she nods and looks her in the eyes again, and looking away. 

  "Did you just-"

  "Yeah."

  "Well then." Anne shifts, throwing her hair over her shoulder. 

  "You don't look six." Cathy feels the need to clarify. "If you were six, I would be seeking serious and intensive therapy about my sexual tendencies."

  "Did you just-"

  "Yeah. Don't mention it." She shakes her head, looking away, but Anne insists on scooting closer, and putting her hand on her knee, smiling comfortingly. "You're so cold- I can feel your hand through my trousers." 

  Cathy shakes her head, disappointed and sighing at how idiotic Anne is. 

  "What gave you the genius idea to wear shorts and sandals in November?" She grumbles, taking her cardigan off and draping it over Anne. 

  "I like being cripplingly cold so that when I get into bed, I don't want to get out because the only warmth is bed." 

  "I hope you know that that's fucked up, right?"��

  Anne shrugs, putting her arms through the sleeves and wrapping it around herself, shuffling to lay into Cathy, sighing softly. "I'm sorry." 

  It comes naturally to turn and press her lips to the apex of Anne's head, leaving them there for a few seconds before her arm reaches around her, shushing her gently. 

  She sighs into her hair, breathing her in. Anne smells nice, she decides, though she's not exactly sure what of. Cathy can picture nights in with the girl nestled in her arm, cuddled up watching movies until they pass out, gripping onto each other, and then she turns away from her, looking around the room. These girls are the reason this is happening: why Anne Boleyn was tolerating her, loving her, to a degree. It was fake, she reminded herself coldly. All of it. 

  Anne Boleyn was only being nice to her because she got herself into a mess. After all, who could possibly love Catherine Parr for who she really is? 

[nicolewrites]

of new intentions - ii

Today's Sylvain call-out friend is Dorothea, who also has wonderful supports with both Sylvain and Ingrid. It's another chapter without Ingrid, but I promise she'll make an appearance tomorrow!

Day 2: Dance / Jealousy

Rating: G+ Genre: Romance,  Friendship Characters: [Sylvain Jose Gautier & Ingrid Brandl Galatea], Dorothea Arnault Words: 1,048

AO3

ii. jealousy

Sylvain is returning his father’s correspondence when Dorothea sits in the seat in front of him, turning the chair so that she can lean over his work. He tries to ignore her, but she isn’t deterred as he hoped she might be as she cups her face with her hands and lets her elbows rest on either side of the letter he’s writing.

Finally, he sighs. “What do you want, Thea?”

She smiles. “Oh nothing,” she sings back. “I’m just wondering what you’re doing is all.”

He gives her a flat look. “Writing to my father,” he replies shortly. He scribbles the last part of the letter and signs his name quickly.

He folds the letter and slides it into an envelope before Dorothea can attempt to read his messy upside-down writing. She smiles at him innocently like she didn’t come over here specifically to stir up trouble. Sylvain holds eye contact with her suspiciously.

“A lot of correspondence headed home recently, isn’t there?”

Sylvain sighs. “I suppose. I’ve been coordinating with my father and Catherine has been discussing with hers. Annette can finally write to Dominic without fear of her letters being burned en route.”

Dorothea smirks. “I was talking about all those letters Ingrid has been sending back to Galatea. Letters about suitors.”

A knot twists in Sylvain’s stomach and he hates himself. This is Ingrid. He’s not allowed to feel jealous of arranged suitors because it’s Ingrid . “I know what you’re trying to do, Dorothea,” he grumbles.

She bats her eyelashes. “Is it working? Your ears are red so I’m going to assume that it’s working.”

He frowns. “Fine,” he snaps, “it’s working. You’ve made your point. Can you leave me to my letters now?”

Dorothea’s smug facade vanishes and she leans away from him, changing into the more direct, honest woman that Sylvain has gotten to know recently. “She’s rejecting all of them,” she adds quietly.

Sylvain tries to keep his eyes glued to the letter in front of him, but they flicker up against his will in his surprise. Caught, he continues, “All of them?”

She nods. “Apparently she doesn’t even want to meet with any of them until the war is done. Even then, I think she’s had a taste for freedom now. I have a feeling our Ingrid is going to fight her father a lot harder about these things from now on.”

Sylvain thinks of the stack of unsent letters shoved in a drawer in his room. He doesn’t know if he feels better or worse about the fact that Ingrid is rejecting all of her suitors. It’s nice to know that she’s feeling independent and his jealousy lessens when he knows that it’s not like she’s going to start seeing someone all of a sudden, but there’s a dread that settles in his stomach as he thinks about his own intentions.

He’s still carrying the damn ring around, after all.

“Sylvain?” Dorothea prods and he realizes that she had asked him something and he hadn’t been paying attention.

He straightens. “Sorry.”

She shrugs. “I was just asking what correspondence was so important besides the usual letter to your father.”

He sighs. He has three letters to write: one to his mother to explain he still hasn’t written to Ingrid’s father, one to the current scion of House Rowe, and then, of course, the dreaded letter to Galatea. Technically, this letter is for business purposes only since he’s supposed to be working with Catherine, Gilbert, and Felix to rearrange the Kingdom’s scattered troops.

“Mostly letters on behalf of Dimitri. Since my father has taken charge of directing the base parts of the forces that remain in Kingdom territories, I’ve volunteered to help Dimitri and the Professor consolidate all the information we have.”

Dorothea hums in agreement. “No courtship letters?”

He sighs. “We’re in the middle of a war, Dorothea, as far as I’m concerned, Ingrid has the right idea in waiting until later.”

“How can I help? What are you working through right now?”

He blinks. “Uh,” he staggers and Dorothea takes advantage of his surprise to slide two of the three sheets of parchment towards herself, reading the addresses on them.

“House Rowe and House Gautier,” she reads aloud. She cocks a brow at him when she discovers the letter he’s writing home. “Didn’t you just finish your letter to your father?”

He huffs and takes the letters back. “This one is to my mother. It’s personal.”

She smiles when he says personal and leans forward again. “And, of course, this has nothing to do with the way you looked like you were going to break your lance of Ashe’s head after training yesterday? And nothing to do with the fact that our dear Ingrid has redoubled her dedication to the crown since Fhirdiad?”

Sylvain drops his head to the table and groans. “Come on, Dorothea, just leave me alone.”

“Never,” she teases. “You and me are the same remember? Horribly jealous creatures.”

He lifts his head to stare at her. “You’re the worst.”

“We’re the same,” she sings lightly.

He sighs. “Look, if you really want to help, I would appreciate a cup of tea. This is going to take me a while yet.”

Dorothea smiles at him. “Sure thing.” She stands up and leans forward and presses a light kiss to his cheek.

She walks away from him towards the door to the entrance of the former Blue Lions classroom. She pauses at the door and Sylvain glances back at her. She drums her fingers over the doorframe and smiles at him.

“You know, I’m sure Ingrid wouldn’t immediately reject a letter if it came from you, Sylvain.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, “but we’re in the middle of a war,” he reiterates. “I still think she has the right idea.”

Dorothea looks at him. “She might be waiting now, but she won’t wait forever. There are other people involved in this too.”

Sylvain runs a hand through his hair. “You’re her friend, Thea, so you should understand when I say that I’m not doing anything until she wants something to happen.”

Dorothea smiles faintly. “Well, if you’re going to wait for a sign from her, knowing her, you may be waiting longer than you originally anticipated.”

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 2: Boss

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

...in which Y/N deals with more problems at work, and Harry makes a life changing decision.

Word count: 4.1k

Chapter 1: Honeymoon - Y/N and Harry go to Greece for their honeymoon and run into a couple they hate.

Wattpad link

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Y/N wasn't a workaholic, she kept telling herself that, but it did feel good to finally get back to work after her honeymoon. The trip was doubtlessly wonderful, and she'd never felt more loved in her entire life. If she'd had a choice, she probably would've picked to stay on the island with Harry. But let's be realistic, how could they afford another expensive holiday if they neglected their jobs? Now it was time to focus on what really mattered for their future together. Money.

Besides, Y/N did miss her desk at the office, and even though her co-workers weren't all angels. She was sure some of them missed her, if not all. When she came back, they would rush to her with open arms and said—

"The proposal you sent me was crap."

All eyes in the room shifted to Y/N, who was still trying to figure out what was happening. She'd heard that everyone who had worked with Catherine Daniels had all the worst things to say about this woman. They said that she was terrible to people, that she was afraid of no one and wouldn't take criticism from anyone in this firm, that the only reason she was head of Media Relations was because she'd been here the longest. This was actually the first time Y/N had spoken face to face with Catherine, and she kind of understood why the nickname Catherine 'Dictator' existed.

"But that was what the client—"

"Enough with the same excuses." Catherine scoffed. "You people in Client Service has one simple job, to negotiate with the clients so it's easier for us, the ones who actually have to do the hard work and handle the journalists."

Y/N almost said sorry for something that wasn't entirely her fault, in hope that it might put an end to the tension between them. Thankfully, Kate showed up just in time to back her up. She gave Catherine a dirty look, pulling Y/N to her side.

"Go terrorize the people on your team, Catherine."

"Elizabeth is on maternity leave." Catherine responded with a sarcastic chuckle. "Who else would I blame this for? You?"

Elizabeth was the head of Client Service, Y/N's department. Unlike Catherine, that woman was the sweetest and she would never talk down to any of her team members. While watching Kate and Catherine arguing, Y/N really wished Elizabeth would magically appear and make everything better again.

"Mr. Coleman will take over Liz's responsibilities until she gets back," Kate chided as she put both hands on her hips. "So maybe you should go tell him how crappy you think the proposal is? He'll be in his office tomorrow morning."

Y/N almost forgot. There was someone in this company that Catherine was afraid of after all.

"Feels good to be teacher's pet, huh?" The hateful woman whispered to Y/N before turning back to Kate and said through gritted teeth, "if she doesn't send me a better proposal by tomorrow, set me an appointment with Coleman. He needs to know when to fire his favorite employee."

As Catherine stormed away, Kate turned to her wide-eyed friend, looking extremely pissed off. It couldn't be more obvious that she loathed that woman as much as anyone here; however, Y/N's tolerance of such rude behaviors was the main reason she was fuming with rage.

"You shouldn't have let her talk to you like that!"

"She was just...trying to do her job," Y/N mumbled, giving Kate a shrug. "I mean...it's probably difficult to deal with the media."

"Sis, it's the client who pays you money to deal with the media, so believe me, if the client wants the moon, you give them the moon! No question asked!" Kate slammed both hands onto the table, nearly causing Y/N's coffee cup to fall over. "Catherine always puts herself first and shits on all the others anyway. But don't worry, Jack will definitely defend you."

That was exactly what made Y/N worry. Jack would defend her, or at least try to fix her mistakes. After all she wasn't only his employee, but also his friend and might've been something more in the past. Even though she knew he would always be fair, these people in the office did not, and they might just assume she was getting special treatments simply because she was his favorite. The smartest solution here was to give Catherine what she wanted. Not because she was afraid of Catherine (maybe a bit), but because she didn't want Jack's reputation ruined for helping her, again.

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"Screw. Me!"

"Later, I'm washing dishes."

"Haha, funny." Y/N shot her husband a glare as he turned to check her reaction. He expected her to laugh along. She always would no matter how lame his jokes were. But this time all she did was breathe out and carry on with whatever she was doing on her laptop. She'd been working ever since she got home, and only stopped to eat dinner before getting back to work again. Harry was surely worried. The last time his wife worked this hard, she ended up passing out on her desk after consuming too much coffee, he nearly had a heart attack that day.

"Maybe..." He dried his hands and headed towards where she sat at the table. "Maybe you and I can Netflix and chill tonight?"

Y/N giggled when his breath tickled her neck and he laid a soft kiss on her shoulder blade, throwing in a sweet "I love you" as if she didn't already know. Her husband was just trying to distract her from work, and even so, she let him. She should be distracted for a little while for her brain to function again, and he seemed to be in need of a little affection. When she turned to him, their lips met for an urgent wet kiss which sent him down on his knees by her side.

"Come on," he muttered, all out of breath as his lips curved into a slop-sided grin. One of his hands were resting on her hip, the other on the backrest of the chair. "Play with me and I'll let you go."

"Play with you?" Y/N chuckled as she cupped his face. "Is this why you let Layla and Niall watch Treasure tonight?"

"That's the kind of parent you think I am?" The man faked a faint gasp that made his wife giggle. "Actually, Layla's having dinner with her dad's family, and her stepmother is allergic to cats so..."

"So you let her use our daughter as a revenge tool." She jokingly lifted an eyebrow.

"Are you calling me a bad parent then?"

"Harry! No!" Y/N burst out laughing when her husband took both of her wrists with one hand and started ticking her with the other. She fought to get away, accidentally slipping right off her chair and collapsing right on top of him. Now the table had turned, she blocked his arms and executed the tickle torture until he laughed so hard he couldn't breathe.

"I surrender! Surrender!"

"You cannot surrender after what you did to me, baby. That's not the rule." Y/N knew he could've stopped her easily, yet he still let her win. So she showed some mercy by letting him suffer for a little more before raising her hands to call a truce. Harry combed his fingers through his messy locks, breathing heavily and flashing her a lazy smile.

"I'm done playing with you. Can I please go now?"

When she patted his chest and attempted to move, Harry quickly sat up, fingers clutching her thighs to keep her still. He knew she could just brush off his hands and get back to work, but it was her choice to stay in his lap. So he flashed her a cheeky grin. "But I'm not done playing with you."

"Baby, I'm serious." She sighed, gently stroking his hair. He was like a baby now, pouting and nuzzling her neck, pleading for attention, which she would gladly give him if Jack's reputation and her own weren't hanging by a thread. "I need to get this proposal done by morning."

"You're always working overtime and now you're working at home too," he said with a big frown. "I feel like no one beside Jack acknowledges your effort."

"Exactly! Thank you! I mean, I love my job but I gotta admit most people in PR are assholes." Harry couldn't hold back another smile when she turned serious and started counting on her ten fingers to illustrate her point to him. "So take ten people at my office, four of them will hate me, the next four don't give a damn about me but they love the drama and believe dumb rumors anyway, the two people left are Jack and Kate."

Harry pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek, laughing as he tried to cheer her up, "positively speaking, your two supporters are your boss and your boss' assistant. You still win."

"If you put it that way," she said, beaming at him. "Well, I'm only working this hard because we need money for our future family. So when we finally get super rich, it's over for them. I might even quit the job and we can go on honeymoon every weekend. Sounds great, huh?"

Harry stayed on the floor after his wife had kissed him and returned to her laptop. "Feels good to just imagine," she said in a sing-song voice. However, he knew there was also truth behind that joke, that everything could be much better if they were wealthy people, that she could have the life he'd promised them both, no more extra hours at the office just to impress people who weren't so nice to her.

The opportunity was right on the table, all he needed was to swallow his pride and seize it. And because of her, he might actually consider working things out with his dad.

The next morning, Harry could barely pay attention to anything else. He sat in his office, staring at a half-finished email to his dad's assistant which he'd written last night, trying to decide if he should send it. He just wanted an appointment with Devlin, but then what? What was he gonna say? He didn't want to just apologize for doing nothing wrong only to get this over with. And would Devlin trust him enough to hand him the CEO chair after everything? Maybe he should phone Y/N and ask for her opinion. Even though she'd been on board with this idea since the beginning, and even trying to convince him to go for it, he didn't think he should make this decision on his own. But on second thought, he should wait until he saw her at home, because something like this shouldn't be discussed over a phone call.

There was a knock on the door when Harry was having a debate with himself. He shut the laptop and told the person to come in, Olivia then entered, wearing a massive grin on her face.

"Got you coffee!" She exclaimed happily and placed the cup down on his desk.

"Oh, thanks." He raised an eyebrow as she sat down in front of him. "What's the occasion?"

"Well, yesterday was my birthday so today I bought coffee for everyone."

As soon as she said it, Harry's face scrunched up in guilt. He pinched the bride of his nose and muttered under his breath, "shit. I...I'm sorry, Ollie...I forgot."

"Nah, it's fine." The blonde giggled as she shook her head. It didn't take an expert to see that she was in a much better mood than usual. And Harry was already suspecting a reason behind her strange attitude. "I had the best birthday though," she confessed, the grin on her face grew twice bigger.

Harry recognized that grin. He'd been in a relationship for five years, how could he not? It was as clear as daylight! "Okay, who is he?"

"He?" Olivia arched an eyebrow. Harry knew her better than most people, and that right there was her iconic 'I-know-what-you're-talking-about-but-I'm-just-pretending' face.

"The guy who made this birthday so 'special'."

"Why is the word special in air-quotes?" Olivia giggled. Then it only took a couple seconds for reluctance to wash off the happiness on her face. He was second guessing if it was something he'd said that unintentionally upset her, but he didn't really need to ask as she was gonna tell him anyway.

"There's something I want you to know."

"Okay." He nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he leaned forward, getting a bit impatient. "Is the guy a drug dealer or...?"

"No! Jesus no!" Another soft giggle escaped her red lips. "It's Jack, but—"

"I knew it!" Harry shouted and slammed his fist onto the desk, almost giving the girl a heart attack. Then he started laughing as her cheeks turned pink. "I saw you two dancing at my wedding and I knew it!"

"Okay, calm down," she told him, rolling her eyes even though his reaction was undeniably adorable. "It's not about Jack. Well, it is kind of related to him, but mostly you and...your dad."

"My dad? Are they doing business together?"

"Kind of..." Olivia pursed her lips while fidgeting with the pencils right in front of her. It seemed like she was struggling to find the right way to break this news. "More like...Devlin's selling Styles Corporation to the Colemans."

"You're joking?" Harry's eyes went wide as his mouth hung opened. He was hoping Olivia would crack up and tell him he'd been fooled, but she seemed too serious for him to believe this was just a lousy prank.

"Jack told me last night. I just assumed after...what happened, Devlin wouldn't discuss this with you in advance."

"We don't even talk." Harry blew up his cheeks, tapping his fingers on the desk impatiently. Now their conversation had sunk back to silence. While Olivia was trying to come up with something to say, Harry kept on staring at the email he'd been hesitating to finish. After what seemed like five seconds, there was another knock on the door. A co-worker showed up to tell Olivia that Mr. Davis wanted to speak to her.

"I gotta go now," she said, standing up fast. "Talk to you later, Haz?"

"Sure." He gave her a nod and watched her strut towards the door. But when Olivia reached for the handle, instead of leaving right away, she lingered there for a moment before turning back to him.

"What are you gonna do?" She asked, looking slightly worried.

"I have an email to send," he told her with a smile.

Even though Olivia didn't get what her friend meant, she accepted that simple answer anyway and walked out of his office.

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.

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"Y/N, there you are!"

Kate grabbed Y/N the moment she'd just arrived at the office. She wasn't even late, but from the way many others were staring at her, she guessed she'd missed a whole lot already.

"Tell Catherine I'm gonna send her the proposal right away," she uttered and attempted to walk away, but Kate pulled her back just as fast.

"Haven't you heard?"

Y/N shook her head quickly. She'd rarely seen Kate this excited while at work, and now this girl was smiling as if she'd just won a one-month trip to Bali. So what Y/N hadn't heard might be some actual good news.

"Jack fired the bitch this morning."

"What?" Y/N's jaw went slack as her eyes popped opened. "Is it...because of me?"

"No, silly." Kate snorted, eyes rolled upward. "From what I've heard, she's been selling our ideas to one of our competitors."

"For real?"

"Yup, that's why she got so fed up and asked for a more detailed proposal. The first one you did was great."

"So I just...stayed up all night for nothing?" Y/N's face scrunched up in annoyance, but her question was ignored when Jack stepped out of his office and spotted her speaking to his assistant.

"Mrs. Styles?" He raised his voice, causing everyone to stare at Y/N, who didn't even flinch. As he repeated once again, Kate had to nudge the girl to remind her she was being called, and it was only then that Y/N snapped back to reality. Her whole face turned red from all this excessive attention. It was ironic how she kept forgetting her new name which was probably the one thing she could never shut up about.

"Five minutes," Jack simply said before shutting his door.

Even though Kate leaned in and told Y/N "you're the last person he'd fire, don't worry", the girl was already shaking in her boots. Catherine had been working at this company for ten years and Jack made the decision to fire her in a minute. What if he thought Y/N had something to do with this and fired her too?

Oh no. She swallowed hard before heading straight to his office, ignoring curious stares that were shifting her way. She wondered how many of these people were wishing for her to suffer the same fate as Catherine, still she must put her trust in Jack Coleman.

Right? Right, she assured herself.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N opened the door slowly. The creaking sound caught Jack's attention as he looked up from the computer and urged her to hurry up.

"Okay, before you fire me, you need to hear me out," Y/N spoke as soon as she closed the door. "I have absolutely nothing to do with this."

"With what?" The man looked so confused, and now she was also confused.

"So I'm not here because I'm in trouble?" She asked quietly.

At this point, Jack couldn't keep a straight face anymore. He shook his head and began with a chuckle. "No, why would you be in trouble, Y/N?"

"I...I don't know...Why am I here then?"

"I need to discuss our new strategy with the head of Client Service." His answer seemed to confuse her even more, so he pressed his lips into a smile, and finally told her, "you're promoted by the way."

Those words together had turned Y/N paralyzed. Her limbs became stiff and her expression hardened. Now she could only hear different voices in her head shouting at each other. Was he joking? He can't! It's not April's Fool! But even if it was, Jack's not the type of person to joke about these kinds of things. Am I dreaming? Should I pinch myself?

"Y/N?"

She pinched her own arm when he called her name.

Yup, definitely not dreaming.

"Uhm, I have a question..."

"Sure, go ahead." Jack started beaming when he saw the way his employee was fidgeting with her own fingers and nipping her bottom lip. He had imagined a much worse reaction, so she was actually doing better than his expectation.

"Why?"

"Why?" Honestly, Y/N was very grateful that Jack was patient with her. But his calmness was driving her insane. Now she was on the edge of her seat and she wasn't even sitting down! She was literally sweating when he leaned back and knitted his hands together. "Well, since Catherine no longer works here, Elizabeth will be the new head of Media Relations, leaving her spot empty. And I think you're a great choice for it."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" This question made Jack lift an eyebrow. He didn't say a word, yet she knew he wanted her to explain. And so she did. "Everyone here said that I got special treatments because you...uhm..."

"Because I had feelings for you?"

She swallowed hard and nodded quickly. Now she was glancing at all directions in the room to avoid looking at her boss when he stood up.

"Well, they weren't entirely wrong," he said, leaning back against the edge of his desk and crossing his arms. Those words were all it took for her eyes to shift back to his face.

"I did have feelings for you, and I've always thought you were a great person. But this isn't high school, Y/N. I don't make decisions based on my feelings for someone. If you can do the job well, then congrats, you get the job. If not, then you have five minutes to pack your things and go."

"But people—"

"When you work in this industry, you should care less about what people think of you, and more about what you think of yourself," Jack asserted, smiling back at her. "Are we good now?"

Y/N nodded to agree without adding anything else.

"Great. Now bring your laptop in here, there's a lot of work for you."

Once again, her answer was a single nod as she hurriedly reached for the door handle. But right before she exited the room, Jack stopped her quickly.

"I almost forgot," he said with a soft smile. "Welcome back, Mrs. Styles."

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"Baby, I'm home!!!"

Harry chuckled as his wife jumped right into his arms the moment she walked through the door. She held him so tight, almost squeezing the air out of him, and he could already tell that something big had happened to her at work.

"I have great news!"

"So do I!" He happily declared while grinning from ear to ear. "But you go first."

"I got promoted!"

Those words pierced right through his ears like a bullet. Speechless, he let her drag him into another hug but this time all that he could show was a half-broken smile. Y/N instantly felt his reluctance and drew back to look him in the eyes. Her grin fell as fast as his when she noticed something wrong.

"You're not happy for me?"

"I am. I am, I'm just—" He paused right there. What could he possibly say now? That he'd had lunch with his father and agreed to take over Styles Corporation in San Francisco? That he'd done it for her but now she'd got promoted and would most likely not willing to quit and move to another country with him? No! He couldn't tell her any of that!

So instead of saying the truth, he gave her exactly what she wanted to hear. "Sorry, I'm just shocked. Wow, baby, this is great!" He laughed, squeezing her hands even though he'd never been more anxious before. "I'm so proud of you. You're a boss now!"

Y/N leaned in and kissed his lips, mumbling a quiet "I love you" as she believed without his support she wouldn't have gotten this far. Her excitement had put him in a much tougher spot and now his heart was beating like a drum.

"So," she pulled back to hold his face, still smiling like the Cheshire Cat. "What's your good news, love?"

Shit.

He widened his eyes at her question, lips pressed together tightly. "Well...uhm...Olivia bought free coffee for everyone at the office today."

"That's it?" Y/N gave her man a funny look. However, there was no sign that showed she was suspecting anything. It was almost normal for him to make no sense sometimes that his excitement over free coffee would actually make sense.

"Yeah. Now that I think about it, it's actually not as exciting as your good news." That was a terrible white lie, but Y/N was too thrilled to see it through at this point.

"We need to celebrate!" She declared, bouncing up and down like a child on Christmas morning. "I'm gonna cook a big meal for both of us and we're gonna get so drunk tonight!"

Harry held his breath as he watched the woman he loved dance her way into the kitchen. She had never looked happier, which made him feel even worse. He was blaming himself, still a part of him justified his impulsive decision by saying he'd been given no other choice. Had he waited to come home and discuss it with her, the Colemans could've sealed the deal and taken the company right under his nose. He thought he was doing it for both of them, mostly for her. But unfortunately, he couldn't have seen this coming.

Now standing in the middle of his living room like a stone statue, Harry asked himself the same question Olivia had asked him before, what are you gonna do, Harry?

[janeyseymour]

Escape- pt 6

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5. 

Jane Seymour has stayed with Henry long enough. Cue Catherine of Aragon and the rest of the girls to save her.

Jane and Catherine meet the rest of the girls. Kind of a fluff filled chapter.

“Janey? Wake up, we’re here.”

“Huh?” Jane moved quickly.

“Are you ready to meet the others? If not, I can have Cathy tell the other girls to go away for a bit while we get situated.”

“I guess I have to be ready, right?” Jane smiled nervously. The two made their way to the door and Catherine opened the door.

“Cathy? Jane and I are here.”

“I’m in the kitchen! Girls! Come down and meet Cath and Jane!” A taller woman dressed in a blue tee shirt and jeans with an apron walked into the front room.

“Hi, you must be Jane. I’m Cathy.” The woman wiped her flour covered hands on her apron before sticking a hand out. Jane took it tentatively.

“Are you sure it’s alright that I stay here?”

“Of course. Cath didn’t really tell me much, and you don’t need to explain if you don’t want to. It seemed quite urgent though, and we have the space. Make yourself at home. I’m making chicken for dinner.” She sighed as she looked towards the stairs. “Anne, Anna, and Kat, get down here! We have guests!” What sounded like a herd of elephants came running out of a room upstairs, and three women came down quickly.

“Dinner this late at night?” Jane couldn’t help but ask.

“We all get a little distracted when we first get home from-” the woman in blue was interrupted.

“Anne Boleyn,” the woman in green smiles.

“I like your hair,” Jane compliments.

“Space buns! They’re a lot of fun!”

“You’ll learn Annie here is always doing something a bit chaotic. It’s entertaining.” Cathy smirked when Anne stuck her tongue out at her.

“She’s not wrong, but it's still rude to say out loud Parr.”

“I’m Anna. I have a dog. Are you allergic?”

“I’m not, and neither is Catherine.”

“Good. I wasn’t going to get rid of Queen anyway.”

“Anna!” The woman in pink exclaimed. “No need to be rude!” She turned to Jane and Catherine. “I’m also Katherine, but you can call me Kat, Kit, Kitty; I don’t really care which one you choose.”

“Wow. Your hair is-” Jane searched for the right word. “-vibrant.”

“I know right? Anne told me one day I should change it up, and I’ve done it ever since!” The younger woman played with the pink ends of her hair.

“Do you guys want a tour?” Anne asked. The two new additions to the household nodded. The five went around the house while Cathy returned back to the kitchen to finish dinner.

“And don’t worry. You guys will figure out the dynamic of the household pretty quickly. Cathy is kind of the responsible voice of reason. Anna does her own thing.”

“Hey! I spend time with you two a lot!” Anna interjected.

Anne ignored her and continued, “Kat and I are kind of like the kids of the house. Always doing something mischievous. Keeps things interesting, you know?”

“Do you guys need help unpacking?” Kat tried to make herself useful.

“We actually don’t have much to unpack right now, but I am going to have someone send out the rest of our stuff soon if that’s alright,” Catherine stated.

“Do what you want man. This is your house now too. Although, there is only one bedroom left.”

“Jane can have it. I’ll just sleep on the couch or something.”

“Lina! I don’t mind sharing a room. What you guys are doing is more than enough, and we’ll definitely help out around the house and stuff. I really appreciate you guys taking us in on such short notice. You’re kind of saving my life actually,” Jane chuckled awkwardly. Only Catherine knew the truth in what she had just said. These women may have, quite literally, saved her life by allowing the two to move in.

“Well, we’ll leave you guys to unpack. Cathy will call you down for dinner I’m sure.” The three left the room.

The two new women in the house began to unpack, choosing to distract themselves from what was really happening. Jane pulled out one of the many notes Catherine had written her back in high school and read over it all while grinning ear to ear.

“What do you have there? Love note from him?”

“Oh please,” Jane scoffed. “No, a note from Phillips’ class.”

“Oh my god.” The older woman snatched the letter from Jane’s hands and gave it a quick glance. “You kept this?”

“All of them. That’s actually why Henry and I were fighting.” Her face fell. “We got into a fight about I don't even know what, and I walked out of the room and pulled that out because it always makes me laugh. He accused me of being in love with you and cheating on him.”

“But you’re-”

“Lina, I would’ve thought you would know by now I’m not straight.”

“I-”

“Anyway, he told me if I was in love with you, I could never have you because I’m worthless. He said he was the only person foolish enough to take me under his wing. And uh, you know what happened from there,” her voice shook and the river of tears flowed freely. “Sorry, I know we were trying to stay happy today. I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.”

“No, don’t you apologize. It’s perfectly okay. Why don’t we take a little break and do something else. Take a nap maybe?”

“That actually sounds pretty nice. We could stay in here and watch some television? If sleep happens, it happens.” Jane began to lay down on the bed before patting the spot next to her.

“Whatever you want to watch is fine,” Jane yawned as she curled up next to her friend and fell asleep.

After a few minutes of watching the blonde sleep, Catherine slowly stood and began to unpack more things as quietly as she could. While she was unpacking, she couldn’t help shake what Jane had told her.

Jane isn’t straight. Was there really a possibility that the two could live a happy life together as a couple once Henry was taken care of?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Cathy knocked on the door quietly.

“Hey. Just came to check on you two and let you know dinner is ready. The four of us try to have dinner together at least once a week, and you two are more than welcome to join in.”

“Jane’s actually asleep right now, but I’ll try to see if she wants any food. Thank you so much mija.”

“Anything for you and your girlfriend,” Cathy teased, knowing about the long time crush her older cousin had on the blonde sleeping. Catherine stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

“Cathy! Not now. At least not for a while. She’s got some things to sort out first.”

“Oh! Is Catalina finally going to-”

“I’m not sure. Not for a while, if I do.”

“What happened anyway?”

“That’s not my place to tell you. Just know that right now, it’s not good. I’m sure she’ll tell you all as she gets comfortable. Just don’t push it okay querida? And please tell the others not to press. The poor woman’s been through enough in the past few days.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll do my best to get the other girls to listen.” Cathy turned on her heel and made her way back downstairs where the rest of the girls were waiting. Catherine opened the door back open and went to wake the blonde.

“Jane?” she shook the sleeping figure gently. “Cathy just came and told me dinner was ready. Are you hungry?”

“Food?” Jane mumbled.

Catherine laughed, “Yes love. Food. Cathy’s quite the cook too if I can remember.”

“Thank you,” she sighed happily as she stretched.

“Don’t thank me. Cath made it.”

“No, thank you. For everything. I can’t ever repay you for literally saving my life.”

“You know I would do anything for you, and you know I meant everything I said in all those notes Janey. Every word in there is true to this day.” Jane blushed deeply and nodded.

“I-” her stomach growled.

“Why don’t we go get some food in you?”

“That sounds great actually.” The two made their way downstairs and became acquainted with their new housemates.

“So,” Jane sighed after about an hour of small talk. “I guess you’re all wondering why we’re here.”

“Well yeah!” Anne exclaimed. “But Cath told us we weren’t allowed to ask.”

“Might as well just dive right into it I guess.”

“If you aren't comfortable with it, you don’t have to tell us anything Jane,” Kat tried. She figured this was something that would be hard to talk about. The young woman knew this especially given what she had gone through earlier in life.

“No it’s alright. I kind of owe it to all of you.”

“You don’t owe us anything you don’t want to share Jane. We’ll all be fine knowing as little or as much as you want us to know, and you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you need. This is my house after all,” Cathy chimed in.

“It might be good to get this off my chest,” the blonde insisted. “I was engaged to this guy Henry. We had been together for 12 years. The other day, it all kind of hit the fan. He uh-” Jane rolled up her sleeves to reveal many bruises. She then lifted up her shirt slightly. “-did this. Catherine kind of saved me.”

The four girls who had just met the blonde were in shock. How could someone hurt what they could sense was one of the kindest women to walk the planet?

“That’s enough about me though. How did you guys meet?”

“I’m Pinky’s cousin.” Anne grinned at the nickname Katherine hated so much.

“Anna and I were in an English class together in high school. She was struggling a little, so I helped her out. Turns out, she’s kind of cool,” Cathy laughed. “We ended up going to the same college. I started working at the coffee shop on campus, and Anne came in at least two times during my shift everyday without fail. We kinda just became friends through that alone.”

“I’m Pinky’s cousin.” Anne grinned as she called Katherine by the nickname she hated so much.

“That is unfortunately true,” Kat sighed. “And I met Anna because some jackass wouldn’t leave me alone on campus, and she stepped in and saved me.”

“We all kind of just started hanging out, and now here we are just all living together.”

“We’re not really sure how it happened. It just kind of did,” Anne chuckled.

Meanwhile, Thomas heard someone at his house at roughly three in the morning. Deciding it wasn’t worth it, he laid back down.

“Thomas! It’s me!” He heard Henry. He ran downstairs before Henry could yell anything else and disturb his neighbors.

“Henry?” Thomas faced a blond man. “What the hell man?”

“That bitch called the cops on me. I need help.”

“Dude, Jane-” Thomas felt a fist come into contact with his face.

“No, she’s a fucking bitch, and if you help her, I’ll call the cops on your ass, and then we’re both going to rot in prison. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Henry snarled through gritted teeth.

“Asshole,” Thomas muttered. “What do you need?”

“A fake ID, disposable cell,” Henry thought for a second. “Make that two. You’ll need one too. Colored contacts. I have an idea.” Henry explained his idea to Thomas who quickly agreed in order to cover himself.

“In a few days, I’ll go back. If I go too soon, they’ll figure it out. You’ve gotta go down now though and watch them for the next couple days. Don't let Jane leave your sight, but don’t get caught. You got it?” Thomas nodded.