#the thing with TLK is that they knew how to work the light

[superseal76]

Aethelred lord of Mercia

[peaky-shelby]

NEW ROMANTICS | MBAPPÉ [11]

» summary: in which an arrogant and talented football player (the best of his time as some say) and a focused and harsh critic of a journalist are gonna have to find a way to co-exist.

» chapter 11: heartbreak is a national anthem

Writer's note: i apologize in advance. Shit's about to get real.

» Taglist: @moonchildohh @formulahoe @princetongirlll818 @mavieesttriste16 @kiwisa @godessstela @hummusxx @kodzuvk @pink-manz @corbyns-smile @ippid @jayruiewo265738 @blueanfield @mrs-bellingham @sorceresski @sooblovebot  @okayymochi @army7g @j-rbps @heli991113  @markhyucksmells @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @i0veless @photmath @http-isabela @rainytelevisionfilmwagon @formula101x @neymarloverxxx @cepolar @freespirit-51

@marialikescherries @superswaggycooch @lunasmindinwriting @shadysandwichghoul @contrastedfandom @alexxcorona113 @951am @jinsoulorbitzen12 @mati09 @books-loverss @l0verl4ne @kypostsblog @bluberrycheezk @hottieluvr @calcaneous @444jodie @dudde-44 @neysgf @wallflowerjournal @p4rkyonce @toclic @kyliannnkkk  @mad-die45 @tlk-duskwood @mentalbaddie @karotland

Taylor lost track of time as her fingers clicked on the keyboard, the sound echoing in her small apartment along with Kylian’s snores, who was still sound asleep in her bed.

She’d keep forgetting about him as she spent the night writing away all her anxieties, it was his sleepy sighs from time to time that reminded her of his existence. It was the sun rising that alerted her of how long she had spent in front of her computer screen, writing endless paragraphs about her time in PSG for the last month.

7 goals. The team had scored seven goals on last night’s match and Kylian was responsible for 5 of them. Her neck still hurt from all the yelling, the screams of joy that she’d let out on the pitch, earning stares for most people there and even Galtier himself. Every time that Kylian scored she’d jump a little higher. What she was most happy off was watching Neymar and Kylian working so well together. When Neymar scored Kylian jumped on his arms and everything in her wanted to join the celebration, hug them the same way they were hugging each other.

Kylian was beaming, smiling ear to ear and she wanted to kiss that smile and make it bigger. The win was big and everyone went out to celebrate later. Late night drinks in a private bar. Where the celebrations went as far as her employment too. They boys cheering for the underdog of a woman that had almost taken her place in a men’s kingdom. Shots around a circled table, loud music, loud laughs and hypnotizing lights made up most of the night.

“At least you won’t make a fool of us publicly anymore.” Said Verratti, drinking his beer. He was sitting next to her, arm settling behind her. She smiled weakly.

Kylian was quick to catch the nostalgia in her eyes. He had grown to known this woman a lot more in the last couple of days. Maybe it was because he had memorized every curve and line in her body or the midnight talks that had them both revealing things they otherwise wouldn’t. So he knew that she was caught between two options this whole time, taking the job and place in a men’s kingdom or creating her own with her articles. Keep on doing what she was doing for every team she wanted to, just like she used to. Nostalgia washed away as she drank down her entire bottle and moments later she was on the dancefloor with Neymar, like brother and sister, Little kids, dancing in the silliest ways in front of everyone else. Her laugh would echo in combination with the loud beats, her feet unstoppable as ney would spin her round and round, taking full control of her body. And he could see it in her face, the way her eyes smiled, her cheeks getting red by the embarrassment and the heat and he was jealous that he wouldn’t dance with her like that. But her eyes caught his and she slowed down.

It's like she felt vulnerable whenever he looked at her like that. His eyes dripped of passion, a passion that she was scared to translate and no matter the people and distance between them, she could feel it. It ached in her chest. Moments later and he excused himself, saying he had to go home but his eyes told her different. She stayed a little longer so people wouldn’t notice and left half an hour after he did. She was not surprised when she saw his car outside of her apartment building, if anything she was happy. An odd feeling considering the situation but they snuck in her apartment. Their figures visible for any midnight walker that passed by her house from her windows. And that’s all they’d be to them Just two figures. Just shapes dancing. No names. No faces.

She turned to him as they reached her bed and he picked her up, only to throw her in the mattress and lay over her. Their bodies were used to this silent dance for a week now, used to each other’s touch so much so that they were becoming dependent to it. She put her legs around his waist, using her strength and the fact he did not except it to get on top, their bodies turning on the sheets. He laughed in shock, smiling when he saw her over him. Her lips curved in a grin.

“5 fucking goals…” she whispered

He laughed, tucked her hair behind her ear. Looking in between her lips and her eyes. “was it 5? I didn’t notice”

“don’t be a smug.” She pushed his shoulder.

His hand gripped on the back of her neck, pulling her down so he’d taste her lips, his tongue begging for entrance, that she wouldn’t give. She pulled away, grinning. “what are you doing?”

“wanna give you a proper celebration.” She leaned down and kissed his neck, sucking on his skin, then continued lower and lower and lower—

“bon sang!” [holy hell]

He cried, coming out a little more needy then he expected it and he felt her laughing. He shook his head, knowing damn well that eventually this woman would be the death of him but let her take control in away that she hadn’t before.

Taylor watched him drift off to sleep, his exhaustion from his great performance on the match and on her finally taking him whole. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight, how sweet he looked on her pillows. Luna had taken her place in the space between, closer to Kylian, using him for his warmth. Taylor thought she could get used to this picture but what really troubled her mind was the game. She wanted to write about it more than anything and she did.

She got up, sitting on her messy desk and started writing. It was supposed to be just a short description of the things she had seen while being in Paris for a month but soon turned to a full analysis for the team. She started writing about them, the same way she used to before she met them. Started pointing out the flaws and weaknesses and it happened so naturally, until she finished off with the good words about the night’s game.

Suddenly she had 10 pages worth of an article, saved in her computer. Her eyes hurt because of the blue light, her head was a mess too but there was this satisfaction on her chest, this calmness and then this need to show it to somebody. But not just anybody.

She looked at the watch on her desk, it was almost 7am and Kylian had to wake up in half an hour anyway so she didn’t think he’d mind an early start. She sat up from her chair, crawling on the bed and marveling at the sight under her. He was sleeping on his chest, face pressed against the pillows while his hands had snuck under them. His back was only half covered by the sheets. She could see the marks she had left him with, a smile creeping on her lips. She rolled her bottom lip under her teeth as she got closer, straddling with him with her knees while he was clueless and asleep.

She leaned down, firstly kissing his ear “time to wake up little Lotte” she hummed. He shifted under her. She kissed his neck next, continued by making a trail down his back, all the way down his spine, taking her time as she followed sue followed the Valley on his back.

“5 minutes more” he mumbled on the pillows, eyes still closed. She chuckled at his sleepiness and twisted her head so she’d have access to the corner of his lips, leaving a kiss there too.

“you have practice.”

“says who?” he whined

“your coach.” She pinched the side of his stomach, smiling and he twisted his hand and slapped her ass a second later, making her gasp and laugh. She held his hand down and buried her face on his neck, taking a big bite that made him jump. He tried to get her off him, but she tied around him like a belt. When he calmed down, she kissed his cheek “get up, I want you to read something before you leave.” She said on his neck.

“what if we don’t go to campus at all?”

She snorted “I’m not coming today anyway.”

He moved under her. She raised her head and let him turn his body under hers, now laying with his back down and looking at her. She bend forward, kissing him, because she couldn’t resist and then raised her body again.

“why?” he asked.

Half wanting know, the other half remembering having her on this position last night and the unholy things that followed.

“I have to pick my father up from the airport and then I have lunch with Galtier and the big boss.” She placed her hands on his chest, stroking it gently. Her palm stretching out to the shape of his body.

“Al-Khelaïfi?”

“mhm…” she nodded, her eyes now focused on his abs as she passed her hands through them. He reached for her hip, squishing it lightly.

“worried much?”

“no.” That was a lie. She smiled to cover it. He pretended he believed it. She went to break away from him, but his gripped on her thighs wanting this picture to last longer before his day was to begin. She laughed, placing her hand over his. “Come on—please I want to show you something.” His hand travelled up to her back, nudging her so she’d bent over him. She lowered her body, just enough to leave a kiss on his lips and he slipped his tongue in her the first chance he got so she wouldn’t pull away. He almost succeeded but she bit his lip and escape while he hissed at the sudden bite. She returned with her computer, laying next to him and placing it on her lap so they’d both be able to look at the screen. Kylian was quick to throw his arm around her belly, pulling her close against his chest and leaving kisses on her shoulder.

“here” She opened the document, Kylian raised his eyes in curiosity and narrowed them again when he saw the length of the article.

“You wrote this last night?”

“Yeah…” she was beaming.

“Sleep?”

“not much.”

“Thought so.”

She passed the computer over to him and prompted him to start reading. His expressions would change every other minute. Sometimes annoyed. Sometimes confused. Sometimes troubled. Taylor would mess with his hair while he read, her fingers the only thing keeping him from losing it completely, reminding him that deep down he liked this woman and when he was over, he turned to her.

“You’re not posting this are you?” She frowned “I mean it’s not the wisest thing to post an article in which you are dragging a team through the mud before you meet the owner and expect to get the job—”

“I told Galtier I wouldn’t stop writing even if I got the job!”

“Galtier is not the boss. And it’s been a long time since then, we all kind of assumed that you were done with this!”

“What I do when I’m out off the pitch doesn’t concern him—”

“it does when it affects the team—"

The air had started to thicken around them. Both of them bringing their walls up for different reasons.

"You mean when it affects you?" she shot back. She took the computer away from him and shut it off getting up and leaving it on her desk. Kylian bit his tongue, letting a deep sigh of annoyance. He laid his head back looking at the ceiling. She walked to her bathroom.

"We can't keep meeting while my dad is here!" she said from the other room. Kylian wanted to laugh, a bitter laugh. He always admired her for how quickly she could change her personalities, one minute she was chill and the other she was back to being cold as snow. She came back out, picking her hair up while she spoke “I think it's for the best."

He pouted his lips. nodding. Anything he would have said to her in the moment would backfire on him so he kept his mouth shut no matter how much he was struggling. He threw the sheets away from his body and got up, searching around the room for his clothes. putting on his pants first. Then he realized that she was still wearing his shirt. She was standing in front of her closet. searching for clothes. he stood behind her, hand on his hips. He could swear that she was delaying it, only to get in his nerves.

"Just pick a flicking shirt.” He said in a whisper. It wasn't about the shirt. Taylor reached for one of her sweaters and moved away from him, she took off his shirt while walking in the bathroom. closing the door before he could get a glimpse of her body. That was another low blow for him. something he knew she did on purpose.

She came back out folly dressed, throwing the shirt at him and avoiding being any closer to him than she had to. There was tension. ice cold tension by both of them. She sat on her desk. opening her computer again like she had a purpose but she was just scrolling through a sport websites.

"if that article gets you in trouble—" he said while putting on his shoes "don't say I didn't warn you!"

She laughed "don't worry, I won't be saying anything."

He watched at her back, while he sat on the edge of the bed. Hand on his knees, biting the inner side of his lip repeatedly. He wanted to say more, but his lips tasted poison even to him and he knew he'd regret throwing it at her so early in the morning. He got up. wearing his jacket and his hat, picking his bag and hanging it on his shoulders. "I'm gonna go!".

She didn't say anything. Didn't even move. It was driving him insane. He scoffed and turned towards the door, opening it—

"I've sent today's schedule to Galtier, you're training with Leo on the pitch—" She stopped, when he shut the door with a bang. jumped a little on her seat but didn't want to look at him, she didn't even know if he was still there or if he left until he spoke again.

“That's what you're going with?" he asked angrily. She kept staring at her computer screen.

“Thought you'd like to know—"

"Oh for fuck's shake taylor! You basically just said it's best to end this and you weren't even looking at me--"

"Some choices are easier than others!" it came out so brutal, so blunt, he thought he mint have heard wrong. She regretted saying it the minute she tasted the bitterness in her tongue but there was nothing she could do to take it back and no time to apologize because he was already out of the door, shutting it harder than he had before.

She lowered her head at the sound, massaging her temple and letting out heavy and broken breaths while her legs tapped on the floor uncontrollably because of her nerves.

“You basically just said it’s best to end this without even looking at me—”

What was ‘this’? since when was there a ‘this’?

PSG TRAINING CAMPUS – OUTSIDE AREA

Kylian missed multiple passes by Messi. During training, he was elsewhere and most of the coaches would yell at him, none of them did it the way taylor did. None of them whistled in his ear and it kept feeling like something was missing. He tried to take his anger out on the ball, especially during the simulation game to which he was paired up with Messi. He was aggressive during the game, his only focus was the ball until he pulled a little too hard on his hamstring and he fell on the ground, slapping his hand on the grass while groaned at the sudden pain.

Marquinhos came and knelt in front of him in seconds while the medics surrounded him, trying to check the injury. He waved them all away. “I’m fine!” he said.

“Let them check!” Ordered Marquinhos. Kylian shook his head and got up, dusting off the grass. The pain remained, not enough to make him worry but as he continued playing, his performance started to slow down. Leo noticed it and asked for a substitution a few moments later to which Kylian tried to protest, but he didn’t really care. He moved away from the pitch and towards the benches, taking off his shirt and slapping it on the empty seats. He sat down and one of the medics approached him, giving him a cream, he could use to help with the pain on his thigh.

He took it, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ and started rubbing his skin. Suddenly a glimpse of her appeared in his mind, so brief. While he rubbed on his skin with his fingers, he thought of how they were nothing like hers. Her small, cold fingers that were wise enough to know every inch his body by now, that made him forget who he was at times, that she had lost in his hair this morning before they fought.

“Mr. Mbappe?”

He looked up, a tall woman standing in front of him, elegant, a notepad on her hand.

“What is it?” he asked, leaving the cream next to him and pulling down his shorts.

“I’m a journalist. Been writing a piece on the team—”

“Get in line” he mumbled, untying his shoe laces, paying little to no attention to woman next to him, who took the initiative and sat on the bench.

“I’ve been following the team ever since Ms. Wilock’s arrival, most popularly known as JW, isn’t she?” Kylian didn’t answer. He took off his shoe “Do you think her transfer has had a positive effect on the team?”

“No!” he said bluntly. Not realizing the gravity of his answer or who he was trusting with it. He got up, taking his stuff with him. The woman got up as well and before he left, she called his name.

“Kylian!”

He turned around and looked at her impatient.

“Considering the things she has said about you and the team on her website, has working with her been any easy for you? Creating a personal relationship?”

“Wait till you read her next article and let me know what you think!”

With that he left, ignorant to the fires that he had ignited.

TAYLOR’S HOUSE – DAY

“let me help!” she said and grabbed her father’s, Charlie’s, small suitcase while the walked up the stairs to her small apartment. She could see that he was struggling. She unlocked the door, inviting him in with a smile. Her father scoffed when he saw the mess around her bed, the clothes and documents on the floor.

“Some things never change, do they?” he asked.

Taylor rolled her eyes and picked up her shirts, on by one, creating a pile in her arms and dropping them on the laundry basket. “its been a tough couple of days.”

“Excuses never change either.” He bend down and picked some of the documents and left them on the bed. Taylor smiled at his comment. She stood and looked at him, throwing herself in his arms and taking in the smell of home, the familiar sense of love and protection that she had never known anyone else and she wondered what one earth she could ever replace it if he ever left her. He rubbed her back, kissing the top of her head.

“Missed you.” She mumbled.

He walked backwards on the bed, seating on the edge of the bed with her when he felt something moving under him and he jumped up. Little Luna uncovered herself from under the blankets, rushing down from the bed. Charlie held on his heart, breathing heavily. “Who is that little demon?”

Taylor picked Luna up, holding her close to her chest and petting her behind her head. Smiling “She’s little Luna.”

Charlie’s eyes softened. He walked closer to them, tapping Luna’s nose. “And here I was hoping it was a man making a mess in your room.”

Taylor’s mouth fell open and she slapped her father’s shoulder playfully. She let down Luna and watched her run under the bed. “Cats are nice. Men suck.” She said and walked over to her kitchen, starting the kettle and picking out two mugs, leaving them on the counter. “Plus men need an awful more time, that I don’t have.”

Charlie leaned against the wall on the small kitchen, watching closely at his daughter “is there any specific man that’s been taking your time?”

“Dad—oh my god! You’ve been here for less than an hour!”

“You know I love a little nice gossip!” he teased.

“There’s no gossip!” she mumbled and threw a bag of tea on each cup.

“Trish says otherwise.” She looked up, her eyes wide in shock. Her dad kept his teasing smile, taylor on the other hand was completely speechless. “Water’s ready!” he added but she still didn’t move so he took the kettle and poured the water on the cups himself. Taylor made a step back, watching him. He held up one of the cups for her and motioned for her to follow him back on the bed. She did, seating down next to him, although everything felt numb. He took a sip from his tea, his eyes remaining on her while she stared at the floor. “Wanna talk about it?”

She took a moment before shaking her head, her thumb stroking the edge of her cup.

“That bad, ha?” he whispered and threw his arm around her, to pull her closer “in your own time princess.” He coughed at the end of the sentence, a cough that made him pull away. It was loud and rough. She narrowed her eyes, while she watched him gathering himself. Suddenly Kylian was the last thing on her mind, because that sound scarred her brain.

“You ok pa?” she asked, her voice coming out fragile.

He nodded, taking a few breaths and sitting back next to her. He forced a smile on his lips and she wanted to ask the same thing he asked her “that bad, ha?” but she didn’t. She was too scared to, so instead she nuzzled close to him and pretended they were back in London, in her pastel-orange painted bedroom, surrounded by her dolls and homework that she really didn’t want to do.

PSG TRAINING CAMPUS / LOCKER ROOMS – DAY

Kylian had just changed to his normal clothes, sitting on one of the benches while he scrolled on twitter for no apparent reason. He found the tweet that he had sent her before he met her “get a life”. Such a childlike response, he thought to himself. And now that he was part of her life, he knew that she’d keep doing this no matter what, why the hell did it stunk so much to him?

“Ola!” Messi walked in, holding his sweaty shirt on his hand, Kylian gave him a quick look and returned his gaze on the phone “how’s your leg?”

“I told you it was nothing.” He murmured and got up, picking up his bag.

Leo watched, tilting his head to the side. “Is everything alright?”

“Bad day.” He said.

“I Thought it’s been a good week. Good win yesterday too.”

“Yeah, well yesterday was good. Today was bad. I don’t know maybe it’s the weather.”

“Or someone missing.” Kylian froze. He felt a sudden fear in his chest. Messi noticed it, the way his hair on his arms went up or how his expression fell. “Hakimi, I mean. He’s on vacation, you’re here, alone. I get the same when Neymar is away.”

“Right.” Kylian nodded. “That’s just it.” He answered quickly, trying to avoid the conversation any farther. He moved passed him—

“Wilock knows what she’s doing.”

“What does Taylor have to do with this?”

“I know you don’t wanna be paired up with me but I’m not the enemy Kylian and I’m sorry you feel like I am.”

Kylian closed his eyes, he blew air from his nose and turned back at Leo. “I don’t think you are the enemy. I never did.” He stepped closer “It’s not about you.” He stopped himself, biting on his tongue, so he wouldn’t admit to something that he would regret later.

“What is it then?” There was something honest about the way Leo looked at him, something trustworthy and no judgement. Something that was encouraging him to give an actual answer. Messi made a step forward, placed his hand on his shoulder giving it a light squeeze “if not me, say it to somebody, before you go crazy.”

“Fear it’s too late”

RESTAURANT – DAY

Taylor walked in slow. She felt so out of place in expensive restaurants like that one. Like everyone was looking at her and judging her outfits or the way she walked or the way she breathed.

“Ms. Wilock!” Nasser Al-Khelaïfi got up from the table to greet her, a wide smile on his face “bonjour, comment ca-va?” he asked, shaking her hand. Taylor was sweating at the thought of replying in French but she did it anyway with a smile on her face.

“Tres-bien, et vous?”

“tres bien, thres bien. It is very nice to finally meet you.”

“pleasure is all mine, Sir.”

“Come on, sit.” Nasser sat down and motioned for her to do the same. Galtier who was sitting next to him, gave her a smile of support. She never thought she’d see the day that Galtier would be the safest person in the room for her but here she was. “we’ve already ordered for you, hope that is ok” she hated it. It was her biggest pet peeve but she smiled again and nodded.

The dinner flowed calmly. A few laughs now and then, awkward jokes that made her wanna hide under the table. Sexist comments were not avoided and they were piling up, part of her wondering why she wasn’t calling them off right away.

“What do you think we are doing wrong then?” he suddenly asked and Taylor wanted to list all the reasons one by one but the first that came to mind was the waste of talent.

“You have three of the most expensive players in the world and you do not know how to use them. It's basically like having three of the fastest cars and not knowing how to drive them.”

Nasser was taken aback by her quick reply and her metaphor. She shrunk on her chair, maybe she had overstepped. “We are trying to make use of all three of them.”

“You keep trying that and they’ll keep crashing on each other.”

“What do you suggest then? Keep the nice cars in the garage just for show?”

“I mean you rich people are known for doing that--” she mumbled. Regretting it the second after. It seemed her tongue was overly bitter today to everyone. Nasser grinned; it was the kind of grin you give to someone that has annoyed but you also find their efforts amusing. She leaned forward, explaining. “Messi is not a defender. He’s never been one, and yet you continue placing him on the right with Neymar and Mbappé on the left.” She used three pieces of bread, one for each of the magnificent players and placed them on the table cloth, pointing at them. “Messi is too occupied trying to defend himself to score any goals, your right side of the field is undefended and Neymar and Mbappé are struggling to find balance. However—” she took one of the pieces and placed it on the middle a little more forward than the other two. “Mbappe is lethal when he’s occupying the left flank. Messi is unstoppable when he’s central. If you build this connection between them, assisting each other, then you’ll know how to drive the cars.”

“That leaves Neymar out of equation, though, doesn’t it?” She gulped, looking at the pieces of bread she had left there. One of them seemed to be the odd one out. “Let me ask you this Ms. Wilock, would you consider letting go of one of your expensive cars, no matter how good it was, if that way the other two could work better?”

“No!” she looked up at him, her eyes remaining cold. She couldn’t bear giving any other answer “Neymar can adapt on the right. Point is—if you keep trying to drive all three cars on the same direction at the same time, you’re bound to fail.”

“Fail? That’s a heavy word, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s the truth.”

“I like that you are honest. But are you as bold to stand by what you say? Because your answer tells me otherwise.” He leaned forward, his posture as confident as ever “say you have to sell one of the three, which one would you choose?” she didn’t answer. How could see? One was her childhood hero, the other was her closest friend in Paris and the third… she couldn’t find the words to describe what he was. Yet, the answer was staring her in the face, hanging from her lips, but she didn’t have the courage to say it. Give her a computer and she would have written it down. Nasser smiled again, she was tired of seeing that smirk “me, personally I wouldn’t sell any of them. But I’m a businessman, im not a coach. As long as the three of them keep giving me what I need, they can crash into each other all they want.”

“And that’s why you’ll keep losing, game after game.” She snapped.

“Very blunt.”

“It’s a gift and a curse.”

“Saw it in your articles as well.” He said, looked at Galtier, who had been enjoying the show so far, amused. “Coach Galtier, showed them to me. Your approach is very interesting. I should be happy you are on my side. But keep in mind that it is, my side.”

It sounded like a threat to her. She wondered if he talked like that to Galtier and any other man on his team or if he was just saving it for her. The dinner ended shortly after and Taylor got into a cab home, replaying the entire conversation in her head. She felt cold, even though she was wrapped in her warm coat and scarf. She finally knew where the true scar of psg was, and it had nothing to do with the boys, it was the management. The poison ran deep, the lack of love, the sacrifices to making headlines instead of making history. She ran her hands through her face, lowering her head and closing her eyes in despair. Her hand began to tremble as her heart started feel heavier, her breathing shorter. She searched in her bag for her inhaler, breathing in the air and forcing herself to calm down.

She collected herself before she reached her apartment, pretending like she was alright, despite the ache in her chest. Her father was watching a reality show in television, when he turned to look at her, a bowl of popcorn on his hands.

“How did it go?” he asked and got up, to walk over to her. Taylor smiled, taking off her coat and her scarf, leaving them on the chair.

“I don’t know. It was weird.” She sat on the bed, letting out a sigh and puffing her cheeks. “It’s been so long I forgot that sports aren’t just sports anymore. It’s business and… money.” She dropped back on the mattress “makes me wonder what I’m sacrificing everything for.”

Charlie sat behind her, watching his daughter carefully. He stroked her temple, his hands brushing her hair. “Define everything.” He prompted, following by one of his loud coughs again and she raised her eyes, looking at him through her eyelashes.

“Dad are you ok?”

He kissed her temple “Better than ok whenever I see the independent, beautiful woman you’ve grown up to be. The sister you’ll be to little Lily. Makes me proud of myself, knowing that some of it came from me.”

She sat up, facing him “everything came from you, pa.”

“No” he smiled “I just gave you the shoes. Tied your shoelaces. You learned how to run by yourself.”

She hid herself in him, hoping he could stay forever.

Her mind stayed awake through the night, while her dad snored away on his side of the bed. She’d look at her phone, now and then, like she was waiting for something. She’d go to the text chain she had with Kylian, tapping at the side of the phone while she looked at their last messages. She kind of wanted to text him, speak to him, yell at him about Nasser and Galtier. But she closed the phone, slipped it under the pillow and closed her eyes, forcing herself to sleep for the next few hours she had left.

PSG TRAINING CAMPUS – OUTSIDE AREA

“And This is the pitch.” Taylor said, smiling widely at her father. Charlie took off his sunglasses, taking in the sight of his daughter’s kingdom, memories circling in his mind from when she was kid, running in similar looking places.

“Bloody hell.” He did a spin around himself, taking in how big it was. Taylor felt pride by his reaction. Suddenly she felt a heavy body, leaning on her. She turned around and met Neymar, giving him a quick hug before introducing him to her father.

“Very nice to meet you son!” said her dad, taking Neymar’s hand.

The rest of them gathered around slowly, shaking her father’s hand like he was an old-time friend. It was sudden when she saw, Kylian’s hand holding her dad’s. She’d recognize these hands anywhere. She looked up at him, her smile fading away out of instinct.

“Mr. Wilock, welcome to Paris!”

“Thank you, Thank you! I’m a huge fan!”

“Really?” he smirked, his eyes searching for Taylor’s but she was looking away, scratching on her neck awkwardly. “She’s never mentioned it.”

“Your work on the French team was tremendous. Wish you were a little kinder with us during the cup.”

Kylian laughed, shaking his head. “I was a bit too excited during that match.”

“That’s alright lad.” He smiled “Wouldn’t except anything else by a talented man like you.”

“Alright!” she jumped in, stepping in between them so they’d let go hands. She waved her hand “Break is over. Back to practice everyone! Now!” she clapped her hands and signaled for one of the other coaches to come and take care of them. They all left but Kylian was last, taking a moment to take a good look at her, their gazes interlocking for a short few seconds, before running back to his team.

“Seems like a good kid after all.” Mumbled her father, raising his eyebrow at her.

“You only met him for five seconds.”

“I’m great at character reading.”

“No, you’re just British and you think you are in a Shakespeare play all the time.” She put her whistle in between her lips and blew it just for shake of it. Her father shut his ears.

“There’s a reason I kept those away from you when you were a kid.”

“Well, now using them is basically my job.” She smirked and followed to where the rest of the team was.

Charlie left a few hours after the start of training. He went to exit alone, walking passed the long hallways, when he saw Kylian walking on the opposite direction, coming out of the kitchen.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked him.

“I don’t have my daughter’s strength anymore.” He smiled.

Kylian nodded “she’s tough, isn’t she?”

“Ah, I suspect you already know the answer to that.” He searched in his eyes, Kylian felt like he was being examined. “I hear you’ve been giving her a hard time.”

Kylian scratched the back of his neck, letting out an awkward scoff. “She hasn’t been easy with me either.”

“I bet.” He said “she’s never easy with the people she admires. And she never wastes time on people she doesn’t.” Kylian looked up at that, he wanted to ask more, get to know the woman from someone else’s eyes. But he didn’t have the time because just a second later, Taylor appeared from the distance. Looking at him dangerously as she approached her father.

“Taxi’s outside, Pa.” she said, ignoring Kylian’s existence. “Want me to walk you?”

“No darling, it’s alright.” He kissed her cheek “I’ll see you later.”

With that he left and the two of them stood alone in the hall. When he was out of the door, taylor smacked Kylian in the arm, he backed away quickly, groaning.

“What were you saying to him?”

“AOUCH!” He yelled, rubbing his arm I didn’t say anything!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“I don’t care!”

She went to hit him again but backed up quickly. Closing her hand on a fist and stepping away.

“Was waiting for your article last night.”

She snorted “Don’t worry when I post it, I’ll make sure you won’t miss it.”

“I’ll send you new job applications afterwards.”

“Chivalry is not dead, ha?”

“Is it so hard to get it through your thick head that maybe I am just trying to protect you—”

“Oh please—you’re only trying to protect yourself! That’s what you always do! You and your fucking pride! Why don’t you go kick a penalty or something?” He twisted his tongue in his mouth, when all he wanted was pin her against a wall. Kiss away all the bitterness she had for him. Drink all the poison if he had to. “And for the love of God! I’m not a damsel in distress, I know how to take care of myself around men like you, way before I came here!”

“You’re in over your head--”

“Well, if I am, it is none of your business! Now what the hell is wrong with your leg?”

“I—” He stopped, narrowing his eyes, processing her question “what?”

“You’ve been limping!”

He blinked a few times, his mouth opening and closing in lack of words “Wha—what does that—how do you jump from one thing to another like that?”

“Because that’s more important! We have a game tomorrow!”

“My leg is fine!”

She grabbed his hand and pulled back in the cafeteria; it was empty at this time. She made him sit down and knelt in front of him, she pressed on his thigh, different parts of it, waiting for a reaction. When she pressed on the spot that hurt most, he held her fingers to stop her. Taylor looked up at him, cocked her head. “Fine, you said?”

“It’s just cramps!”

“Does Galtier know about this?”

“Galtier doesn’t know about a lot of things lately, we should make a list, send everything to him— AOUCH!” She pressed harder on his bruise and he held her hand again “Stop doing that!”

“You’re an ass for saying that!” He didn’t answer. Deep down he knew it was a low blow, similar to the bitterness she had stunk him with a day ago. “Amazing how you keep reminding me of my biggest mistake ever since I came here—”

“Whoa—alright! Good to know!”

“Bite me!” she turned around to leave. He groaned, regretting the words that slipped out of his mouth, getting up and reaching for her arm before she left the door.

“I’m sorry—”

“So am I!” She yelled.

“HEY!” Yelled Neymar, running up to them “what the hell are you guys doing?” he asked “Here? Really?” The two off them broke away from each other, avoiding Neymar’s judgy look. Taylor crossed her arms. “Are you crazy? Both of you?” he pointed at his head, looking at them in disbelief. Taylor let out a grunt and walked away, without saying anything. Neymar followed her, sprinting behind her until they were outside again, he walked in front of her, stopping her.

“Neymar—"

“Shut up!” he topped her voice, motioning with his hands for her to calm down. “I don’t care about what has happened. I don’t wanna know. But you keep going like this and you’ll make it to a headline. I know what that’s like and trust me when I tell you, you don’t want it for yourself!”

“I don’t know what I want.” She snapped. Silence followed, thick and cruel silence. Neymar watched her, the misery in her eyes, the fear.

“What happened with the meeting yesterday because this is not just about Kylian, is it?”

Her gaze drifted away from him, she looked at some of the guys that were doing an exercise of tiki-taka “they treat you all like products in this fucking business, don’t they?”

“You get used to it eventually.” He smiled, a weak smile.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” She admitted in a whisper and a second later she put the whistle in between her lips, blowing it, so all of the boys would gather around. Because she’d keep going until she couldn’t anymore.

Kylian had been regretting his cruel reminder for the rest of the day. He tried apologizing multiple times but she Taylor had this thing about her, when she had that whistle around her neck, it was like nothing had happened between them ever. In a way he appreciated it because she never brought their issues in training, she was fair that way. On the other hand, it made him feel small, like he’d only be an observant of a few parts of her. Like he’d never get to know her or hold her whole. It bothered him, he was never good with sharing.

He came out of the building playing with his car keys, in between his fingers. The slight juggling noise, replacing some of the noise in his head. When he suddenly noticed two of guards standing over someone. He tried to peak through them, walk closer and was met with taylor, kneeling against a wall, drinking water. Her eyes closed, her face looking lifeless. He moved between them to get closer to her and knelt down.

“You, ok?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Doit-on appeler les secours ?”

“Non” he shook his head, his hand gripping her arm and helping her up “je vais l'aider à rentrer chez elle. Merci.” He looked at her “Come on.”

He walked with her to his car, helping her sit on the passenger’s seat and closing the door. He sat on the driver’s seat and buckled her up while she laid her head on the car window. He gazed over her, one hand on the steering wheel, the other close to her knee. “What happened?”

“I’m just dizzy.”

“Bullshit.”

“You got cramps. I got dizzy.” She spoke. Even in her state she had the strength to shot back with a sarcastic comment. Kylian turned away from her and started the engine.

“Have you seen a doctor ever since you came here?” he asked while driving. She didn’t answer him. He tapped his thumb on the steering wheel, making sure he did it silently so she wouldn’t get annoyed by the repeated noises. He glanced at her “Taylor?”

“I don’t need a doctor. Have you seen a medic for your leg?”

He chewed on his cheek. “I don’t need a medic.” He mimicked her voice, seconds later he felt her slap on his stomach, when she drew her hand away, he held it. Interlocking his fingers with hers and pulling it close to his thigh. She tried to slip away but he wouldn’t let her. She gave up eventually, letting him hold it. “I didn’t mean what I said.” He whispered. She didn’t move. “I’d never tell him or use it against you.” She kept her eyes closed, maybe because she could feel the tears coming and it was an attempt to stop them. “I’m not that low.”

“Good to know.” She said in her cracked voice.

Kylian rubbed her hand with his thumb, stopping at a red light “do I need to take you to a hospital?”

She raised her hand, looking straight at him “Absolutely not. I’m not dying Kylian”

“Then what is it?”

“Exhaustion. Anxiety. Dealing with you. Pick whichever.” She looked away again, moved her hand in his because no matter how angry she was she liked the contact. “This is routine for me. It’s nothing serious. Promise.” She bit her bottom lip, while her free hand stroked over her heart.

“You never said how dinner went.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t.” she snapped and dragged her hand away from his. She looked at herself in the mirror, examining the weakness under her eyes, her rough skin. She thought of her father seeing her like this. “Can we go to yours first?” she asked, still looking at herself in the review mirror. Kylian was surprised by her request, then again, they had requested all short off things from each other. “I don’t want dad to see me like this.”

Kylian nodded.

As they reached the house, Kylian picked out towels for her, when he walked in, he caught her stripping out from her clothes. Letting down her hair. He left the towels on the sink and told her he’d be outside if she happened to need anything. She started the water, getting under and letting it wash away as much of the day as it could. Her hair got heavier, her body lighter, her heart slower. For a moment it felt good. Maybe the fact that she was washing with his shampoos, his smells, had something to do with it. That realization got her anxious again. That thought was a weight in her mind because it was true.

He was waiting for her in the bed, outside. Occasionally looking at the door and imagining walking in, asking her to join. He didn’t. But she seemed to take a long time and the water had stopped running for a while. He started to get worried and impatient to see her again. He got up and knocked on the door ones. There was no reply from the other side. He knocked again, nothing. He opened the door slowly, peaking his head inside and his soul melted when he saw her on the floor, a towel wrapped around her, sitting by the wall, knees up to her chin, curled like a ball in the corner. He drew a thin line with his lips, his expression softening. He approached her slow, carefully. He sat next to her, saying nothing, not even touching her, at least not until she leaned her body on his. Her wet hair dripping on his clothes, he threw his arm around her and held her closer, while she bit on her nails. He didn’t know if her eyes were red from the shampoo or the tears. He kissed the top of her head, knowing exactly what was on her mind.

“This has to end.” She mumbled. A harsh truth for both. But it should be easy to let go, right? They were a drug for each other, nothing more.

“Ok.” He agreed.

“Ok.” She repeated.

She cuddled closer to him and she cried, not just for them but for everything. He stroked her hair, rubbed her back, kissed her face, every last piece of it until he reached her lips, which he kissed with more care, more intimacy, as much as he could master. She dressed up, brushed her hair and when she was done they sat on his couch. “Just five minutes” he whispered in her shoulder while she laid on top of him. And it was like they were taking in each other’s presence for the last time, enjoying each other’s company for one last night. And it wasn’t about sex, they didn’t even try to make it about that. It wasn’t about their bodies; it was about their hearts. Romantic, someone could say, but it must have been a new version of romantic. This couldn’t have been the heavenly feeling poets wrote about.

He drove her home around 2am, the two of them laughing at a joke that probably wasn’t as funny. He stopped in front of her house, the lights to her house were still open. She smiled at the thought of someone waiting up for her. She turned to Kylian, smiling. She brushed her thumb against his cheekbones, the hair under his chin. He sank in her touch. There was still so much to say to each other but maybe it was best this way. She leaned in first, kissing him as if making him a promise that she’d always have his taste in her mouth. He held her face closer deepening the kiss, making a vow that he’d swallow this secret to the grave if he had to. He kissed her cheek, her eyes, her nose.

“Please check your leg before tomorrow.”

He snorted “yes coach.” He kissed her nose. “Take care of yourself.”

“Will do.” She smiled.

Why did it feel like losing a friend? They were never friends. They were never anything specific and yet they had been everything through the period of a very short time. Idiots making a mess in the kitchen listening to loud music that Kylian sang along to while Taylor couldn’t make up any of the French words but she’ laugh as he grabs her hand and twist her around and pull her in his arms. They were reckless, stealing kisses from each other in the campus bathroom, hiding in one of the stalls while they were ambushed by one of the other players. Kylian holding his hand over her mouth and holding her up on the toilet so whoever was on the other side wouldn’t see her feet. They were enemies, hurting each other deeply, yelling about tiny things that were big in their hands. But their knives never got far enough for them to bleed. Thieves, stealing firsts from each other and romantics. The new kind.

"i wouldn't know" she ones told him and shrugged her shoulders, staring at his fingers "I don't think I've ever been in love. Don't think I'd even recognize the feeling if i did." Her fingers slipped into his, he held them, stroking them gently and looking down at her. He smiled for a moment, thinking of the memory, then realized this could have been the very last time he had her in his apartment, like that. It brought him more sorrow than he expected

“Goodnight.” She said and snuck out of his car and in her apartment building.

PARC DES PRINCES – THE NEXT DAY

“Stade de Reims held their own on the owner’s stadium, finishing with a tie that PSG struggled to succeed”

Taylor watched at the two reporters from the television. Huffing and puffing. Mad at herself and everyone on this time for the horrible performance that they had put on. A very slow start, unsynchronized playing by everyone and a red card that could have been avoided to Verratti. She almost took her anger out on the referee but was held back by Leo himself, who saw her running and ran after her, pulling on her jacket and forcing her to walk back on the bench.

“PSG Coaches will take on the conference in just a few times.” She was one of them. “With Ms. Wilock, joining for the first time and speaking to the cameras. A little feisty, isn’t she?”

She wanted to pull her hair out.

“Stop that!” said Galtier, snapping her out of it “Come on, let’s get on with this.” He ordered and opened the door to the conference. She was immediately blinded by the cameras, went deaf by the screaming questions and the chaos. She wasn’t built for this, sitting next to the journalists felt more comfortable than sitting on the panel. She ignored the fear, searched for her father in the back of the room and smiled.

The first questions were for Galtier, they gave little to no attention to her. Then she heard her name, a female voice calling her and she searched in between the many faces and the lights, meeting a familiar face.

“It’s nice to see you on the Panel Ms. Wilock. We’ve been waiting for your first appearance.”

“Thank you.” She said shortly. There was something about this woman, something wicked. She had met journalists like her in the past.

“Today could be described as a bad day for you team. You once wrote in one of your articles ‘a dog can shoot and score and scare off opponents easy. 3 dogs don’t make up for a good team—” she was sweating at this point, making a fist with her hand while she could feel the storm coming “The MNM trio has been a target on your website multiple times and I’ve been wondering how you could adapt on a team when there is no trust---”

“I can assure you we trust each other. I stand by the things I’ve written, I’m here to help so no one else writes them again. Today was unfortunate but we will turn it around—”

“How can you say there is trust when one of the executive players says on mic that he sees no positive outcome on his team ever since your arrival?”

She froze. A dark feeling settled on her chest. Who would have said that. She didn’t want to ask she was afraid of the answer.

“There has not been such a statement from any of the players.” Jumped in Galtier, trying to save the girl next to him but the journalist took out a mic and held it up.

“I got Kylian Mbappe saying it right here. Also admits that Ms. Wilock continues as usual with her articles against PSG. Which makes you wonder how much trouble is PSG really in? That last question is for you Mr. Galtier. Is there any control when personal gets in the way—”

She stopped listening when the word personal was heard. The chattering in the room getting louder as people started looking on their phones. The conference door opened and she looked there, a familiar silhouette standing by the door, then people screaming his name and their eyes met and he looked like a puppy, he looked scared and regretful. God what had he done.

hello hello dear little romantics. How are you? In pain? Me too. Imagine the chaos in the conference room and poor Taylor 😭also Kylian is regretting all of his life choices!! Perhaps the journey is officially over. We are reaching the climax of the story, 4 to 5 pages left i think. Can't tell you for sure because at this point I've scraped my entire outline and letting the characters take over. Story has turned out completely different and thank youuu for letting me write it and supporting me through it. NOWww, i know some of you want a lil more sexy time so i wanted to address it because i have no problem writing it BUTT new Romantics is definitely not hardcore smut kind of story HOWEVER promise I'm keeping the best for last. I just don't know if I'll add it on the actual chapters or the blurbs lmk what you'd prefer.

I love you all, thanks for the love and for being amazing. Wanna hug you all. As Always please leave your thoughts and wishes and feedback. It's the greatest motivation. See you next weekend 💞

[mery-cm99]

In the Stars (Cp. 4)

In the Stars Masterlist

Description: Harper doesn't want any pilot near her, at least as far as possible. But that's really difficult when you work around them. She has managed to keep her “no pilots'' rule to date. That's until Bradley Bradshaw enters the Hard Deck like a great wave, destroying everything in his way and smashing all the walls Harper had built all this years ago.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x plus size!OC

Warnings: Mention of trauma, blood, crashes and sad stuff in general. There's some spice and mention of sex, but nothing too explicit. English is not my first language, so sorry in advance for any grammar  or spelling errors.

Rating: Teens and up

Chapter: 4/11

Word Count: 941 words

Like the day before, Harper woke up completely agitated, for a different reason, though. She took her head in her hands and cursed out of breath as the images of the dream got back to her mind. Those hazel eyes looking at her while he touched her, his hands soft against her skin. His light curls wet and tangled. His tan skin glistening under the sun because of the salty water of the beach they were in…

She had dream about him. Bradley Bradshaw. And it wasn’t exactly her most innocent dream. It was insane, she would never have sex in such a public place, where anyone could see them… Well, and she would never do it with a pilot. Of course.

She got in the shower trying to get it out of her head, but it ended up turning her on, so she tried to relieved herself. Like she had told Amelia the night before, she had never been with a man, but she liked to read, so she new a thing or two about it.

Once on the base, her day was really slow and boring. The pilots kept training for the mission she didn’t know much about. It was confidential. When she had the lunch break, Harper got out of her office and headed to the cafeteria. She was crossing by the pilots’ break room when she heard voices inside. Her inner child took control and she stop there to listen. They were talking about one pilot’s flight. Saying he was too conservative, that he wasn’t going fast enough. That caught Harper’s attention, pilots usually weren’t consevative, the oposite actually, they risked their lives without blinking. But the moment she heard “Rooster”, Harper remembered she was hungry and went on her way to the cafeteria.

When her clock told her her shift was over, Harper closed her room and walked to the base exit. She stopped when her gaze caught a couple of pilots leaving the room down the hallway, in her direction, and her eyes turned to the last one of them, who was none other than Bradley. As soon as she saw him, images of the dream she had that night came to her mind, of his tan skin bleaming under the sun as he bent down to kiss her, and Harper wanted to bang her head against the wall to get them out. But then she focused on his body language, he was tensed, angry. The rest of the pilots kept walking fast, so he stayed behind, lost in his thoughts, and they weren’t nice by the way his frown got deeper and his eyes locked on the floor. Harper started walking again. As soon as he crossed paths with her at the gate, Bradley raised his gaze to look at her.

“Hi” she said nerviously. Not knowing how to act after the night before. It was imposible he knew she had dream that, but a little part of her brain feared there was a way he could.

“Hi” he answered dryly resuming their walking, this time together.

“Are you okay?” she asked later, once the silence became unbearable.

“No” he murmured with his eyes still afar. Harper was shocked to hear such an honest answer to that question, she did not usually receive them… nor give them. “I had a fight with Hangman” he continued. The brunette didn’t need him to tell her who it was, she knew it was another pilot, Jake Seresin. “He made an unpleasant comment about my father”

Harper noticed he didn’t want to tlk about it, which was completely undestandable. She was a stranger, so she asured him he didn’t have to say anything. 

Bradley looked at her again. She was certainly a stranger, he didn’t know a thing about her, neither did she about him, but that was the case. He could tell her things neither of his colleagues needed to hear. They could not know his fears and doubts because  up there in the sky they depended on each other. She, on the other hand, had nothing to do with the mission. That’s why he started to talk.

“My father’s name was Nick Bradshaw and he was also a pilot. A WSO actually. His callsing was Goose. He died when I was four, in a plane accident. I don’t remember much about him, but what I do is burned into my head” he looked at her and found the brunette looking back at him, listening carefully.vThat made him feel better. He was venting, talking about somthing he hadn’t told to a lot of people, and she seemed to understand the importance of this matter. “He liked to sing and play piano. He used to sit me on the instrument and, with my mum on his lap, we sang our lungs out. He’s the eason I became a pilot. Hangman said I’m flying slow beacuse I live in the past.”

Harper nodded, knowing what it was. Now she undestood the passion with which he played the piano, it was a way of feeling close to his father.

“Past is what makes us who we are. It’s the reason we are here” she said gently. Bradley thought it was the first time she didn’t look at her like she wanted to make him desappear.

“Thanks for listening. I needed someone to talk to” he was trully grateful. Harper gifted him a smile, the first one directed towards the pilot.

That was the moment she remembered who he was. She said her goodbyes and got out of there, got away from him. She couldn’t let him get under her skin.

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@chaoticassidy

[aadmelioraa]

Foolish Heart (Aethelflaed x Aldhelm, 1.6k, rated M)

It's Christmas in Aylesbury, and the Lady of Mercia has grown weary after the day's festivities. Luckily, Aldhelm is by her side to attend to her.

Or

Christmas gift exchange but make it sexy.

A/N: I blame this post and the TLK Cast Christmas Greetings video. This is my little gift to everyone who ships this teeny tiny ship. You are all lovely people and I adore you. Happy Holidays ❤️

The hall at Aylesbury was filled with such revelry and cheer that it spread to the gates of the city and beyond, spilling out to the farthest reaches of the kingdom. Light and laughter and generosity reigned, unlike anything that had been seen in the years Aethelred had been on the throne. Under Lady Aethelflaed’s leadership, Mercia had never been stronger nor happier. 

Aethelflaed had been full of light all day as well. Aldhelm could not deny it filled his heart with gladness to see her smiling so often. Every small thing seemed to bring her joy in this season. 

Aelfwynn too made him glad. She had been permitted to stay up much past her usual bedtime and help distribute gifts to each member of the household, a task she took quite seriously, looking much like her mother as she trotted to and fro to locate each recipient. It must have been nearly midnight when the child finally grew weary enough to let him carry her away to bed. He caught Aethelflaed’s eye as he lifted Aelfwynn into his arms, and as the girl rested her head on his chest Aldhelm had never been more content in his duty. 

read the rest below or on ao3

He returned to the hall moments later after passing the precious cargo into the capable hands of Sable. Aethelflaed maintained her regal posture but her expression had grown weary. Lord Cynewulf, it seemed, had approached her with a request—he had become rather too familiar of late. The Lord was lingering by, talking a bit too loudly of his good fortune for Aldhelm to find appropriate. He had overindulged in the mead, most likely. Aldhelm steered him towards the end of the hall where his wife was seated, where he would be less likely to disrupt the festivities.  

Finally resuming his seat at Aethelflaed’s side, he was able to appreciate how elegant the hall looked. The tables were draped with garland and covered in platters bearing meats, fruits, and bread, flagons of cider and ale. Dozens of torches, still burning brightly, caught upon the silver and gold scattered throughout the hall adorning the finery of their guests. The room had never appeared so well used. 

“You should have a drink, Aldhelm.”

He turned to see his lady’s gaze fixed on him. Her eyes were dancing and her cheeks slightly ruddy from her own goblet—the weariness seemed to have abated, at least for now. 

Aldhelm raised his glass in a silent toast and took a sip. She smiled, but before he could speak was solicited by an Ealdorman who had appeared before them. 

This was always the way, even on high holidays—perhaps especially, even. And she did not complain. She was content in her duties much as he was, but she was also tired. He could see the weight of it in the way she carried herself when they were alone, in the small lines that had appeared at the corners of her mouth and eyes over the past few years. 

Finally, the Ealdorman bowed and made his way from the head table. Aethelflaed sighed, almost too softly to be heard above the chatter in the hall, and tapped her fingertips against her near-empty goblet. 

“You ought to rest,” he could not help himself from advising. 

She turned to him with one brow arched, an expression more amused than incredulous. “Is that a command, Lord?”

“Merely counsel, my lady.”

She appeared satisfied with that answer. Her face resumed its neutral expression as she took another sip of wine, though he could sense her thoughts simmering below that tranquil surface. 

The feast carried on and he remained by her side, but in time her eyelids grew so heavy she could no longer hide her exhaustion. He would not make his recommendation a second time—that was not his way, nor had it ever been necessary—but would wait for her to make up her own mind.

It had grown very late indeed when she finally turned to him again, placing a hand on his arm. 

“You are right.” Her voice was layered with contentment as well as fatigue. “I will rest.”

He brushed his fingers over hers, watching the way her mouth curved into a smile at his touch. “Would you like me to carry you there?” 

“No, but I will accept the offer of an escort.”

He obliged with a nod and offered his arm as they slipped from the room. There were, of course, eyes upon them—rumors dogged at her heels, always—but she defied any man to accuse her of a lack of loyalty. She had shed her own blood for Mercia dozens of times and would do it dozens more. She would rather die than betray the land she had come to love so dearly. He would rather die as well. So far, they had danced around the line but never crossed it. 

This night, however…this night felt different. 

Aldhelm lingered on the threshold of her chambers, expecting to bid her goodnight and make his way to his own room. But rather than allowing him to caress her hand or (as he had hoped), herself bestowing a kiss on his cheek, she drew him inside with her. 

He closed the door behind them, heart pounding in his chest. She was already removing her boots and hose. 

Aethelflaed turned her back to him, gesturing to the lacing that ran up her spine to secure the bodice of her burgundy gown, reserved for the most sacred occasions.

“My maid would help me, but…” 

He complied, his fingers working with a precision that surprised even him. She had swept her hair over one shoulder, leaving the gentle angles of her neck and back exposed to him. He was unable to resist pressing a kiss to her shoulder as the garment fell to the floor with a gentle whisper. 

Looking down at her he confirmed the fervor in her eyes matched his own desire. She was clad now only in a shift, delicate and sheer, revealing both too much and too little. 

“You ought to rest,” he found himself repeating, though his heart cried within him for his mind to cease its scrutiny.

“I will,” she replied, and taking him by the hand led him towards her bed. 

He knew then, kneeling before her, that should they fan these flames this latent state they had lingered in for so long could never be recovered. 

Aldhelm met her gaze—unflinching, glowing—and wet his lips before asking, “What does my lady command?”

She drew in a deep breath and brought his hand to her breast. 

“I command that you follow every whim of your heart, Aldhelm.”

He felt his mouth go dry. To touch her this way, separated only by a thin layer of cloth and what shred of his good sense remained, was a dream he’d suppressed for years. He obeyed. He was incapable of behaving otherwise, now that she’d leveled the walls between them with a single movement, a single word.

Eyes still locked on hers, he lifted the hem of her garment and placed a hand on each knee. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and her mouth fell open. That was more than he could bear. He dipped his head beneath the curve of her leg and began to follow the whims of his foolish heart. Gradually moving towards her waist, he pressed his mouth along the inside of her thighs, allowing his hands to warm themselves on the altar of her hips.

She exhaled a shaky breath as he neared her cunt, and he paused, extending a hand to take her own where it lay, fingers trembling and arched over the furs lining her bed. 

“Lady—“

One word—a question, a blessing, and a plea all at once. 

“Don’t stop,” she murmured, pressing his hand before she released it. 

She tasted bitter and sweet. She tasted like life, like victory, like beauty. She was beautiful…so beautiful, and so completely unknown to him in ways he had not realized. He had been in love with her for so long, by her side for so many years, he had all but forgotten she had a myriad of aspects he had not been privy to. Even in that moment, as she came undone by his touch, he was supremely aware that he was just now beginning to know her.

Her taste lingered on his lips as he lay beside her, fixed on the way her cheeks flushed with the pleasure he’d brought her, watching her chest rise and fall in sync with his own. She pulled him closer, and he thought how strange it was to feel so strong and so vulnerable at once. She kissed him, and a tear rolled down her cheek to land on his own. He pulled back, concerned, but her expression was one of happiness, not grief. 

He kissed her again, softer this time, then let his forehead rest on hers. She was stroking his beard and he captured her hand, an echo of the gesture he’d attempted prior to their encounter, and brought it to his lips.

“Will you rest now?” he asked, and watched, enchanted, as her smile grew. 

She closed her eyes and lay back in the crook of his elbow, one hand firmly fixed to his chest as if to assure her of his true presence. 

“I will rest, Aldhelm. But in the morning, I will repay your gift in kind.”

Only she could relay so intimate a promise in such authoritative terms. 

[vermilionskiinmorning]

𝕺𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕷𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖞||TLK Fic|| FinanxOC||Four

AN: Again thanks for all the support I’ve recieved on this work so far and I’m super sorry this update is late! p.s. I won’t be linking my masterlist anymore bc it makes the post disappear from tags, but you can find it in my navi if you’re on mobile.

Taglist: @lauwrite1225​, @queen-manning​ let me know if you wanted to be tagged for updates!

Summary: Tove chose to surrender rather than be killed, after Sigfried was defeated at Beamfleot, giving herself up to the mercy of the Saxons. Thanks to Finan’s intervention, her life is indeed spared and she is brought into Uhtred’s service. With the sting of defeat fresh on her tongue and her new life fighting for the Saxons secured; Tove is left wondering what tricks the Gods have in store for her next.

Words:3039

-----

Peace settled on that land. They trained, patrolled, and built the defenses despite the peace because Uhtred insisted the Danes would not stay quiet. Tove, as one of them, was of course inclined to agree with him. Though, Bishop Erkenwald and his priests preached that their God was with them and would smite the Heathen wherever he found them.

Bishop Erkenwald seemed to have developed a special dislike for Tove since their arrival. While he also harbored a particular distaste for Lord Uhtred, his scorn for her was different. The two Saxons at least had a manageable working relationship. The Bishop looked after the souls and finances of the city while Uhtred kept all that safe -in short, they kept their interactions brief and functional. However, when it came to Tove it seemed Erkenwald could not keep his opinions to himself. He preached louder and with more zeal about the evils of the Pagan and their fowl ways whenever she happened to be passing by.

“Ya’d think the man would grow hoarse fer all the shouting,” Finan commented.

“Or at least tired,” added Sihtric.

From their table outside the tavern it was easy to hear the vehement words of the Bishop’s latest sermon: the evils of immoral women.

“Does your God grow hoarse?” Tove asked Finan in faux curiosity.

Finan’s brow creased, puzzled by the question.

“I’m just wondering if your God goes hoarse. Because if he cannot then I suppose it makes sense the good Bishop is able to carry on,” she said with a subtle shrug. “As I’ve been reliably informed that he speaks the word of your God.”

Sihtric snorted a bit too loudly at that and Tove smirked. After a brief moment of surprise Finan burst into laughter as well.

“He does that because he knows you can hear him,” Osferth asserted, with little humor and hardly looked impressed at their childishness.

“Right. I’m sure he does, but how does he know where this...what do they call it?” Sihtric looked briefly to Tove who snickered.

“Den of inequity?”

“Yes, that’s it! Thank you Finan… this den of inequity is then?” Sihtric asked with a teasing smirk.

Osferth’s ears began to turn a delicate shade of red at that. His reaction was due to the reputation of the place for not only being a tavern, but a brothel as well as many taverns were. And the former monk knew exactly what was being implied about their dear Bishop.

“Wel-“

“Of course, he knows where it is, he tried to shut the damn place down,” said Uhtred.

He had only just appeared at their table with another round of ale for everyone present.

“You see?” Osferth said.

“Of course, I could not abide such a thing.”

“No, of course not Lord! For then who would comfort these lonely men,” Tove jested causing the men to chortle at the truth of her words.

-----

Summer in a city is different to summers in the wide country. The sewage stink of rot and the people stink of stale sweat when the sun beats down on them constantly. A city’s stench could carry on the wind for miles in summer, but when that wind turned away there was relief for the inhabitants.

It was on one such night when the wind carried away the stench that Tove sat on the wharf carving a rune. A brief cool breeze lifted her hair slightly to make it dance to its song. She hummed softly to herself. It was an easy evening and so peaceful.

Footsteps could be heard on the packed dirt, but she did not start at the intrusion on her calm though she certainly heard it. Finan stood there just a few paces away watching her. If she had turned her head, Tove would easily have recognized him as his figure was illuminated by the moonlight which reflected off the water. But she did not turn even though she could feel eyes on her. Instead she stayed focused on the carving she was fashioning from a chip of wood cut from a branch.

Finan could not deny to himself that he had grown to admire her. If he were fully honest though he would admit he had admired her from the moment she came howling toward him blade drawn and painted with the blood of enemies at Beamfleot. It was his admiration of her that had stilled his sword long enough for her to yield.

He had seen a Goddess of war, a she-devil, or perhaps one of those old Valkyries in her.

“What is that song?” Finan asked suddenly, shattering the quiet calm.

A feigned surprise swept her pale face as she turned to Finan.

“A ballad,” she said.

“Of what?” he inquired further.

He came to sit beside her on the dusty ground then stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Freya,” a small smile on her lips. “Who protects women in childbirth.”

Finan hummed in understanding before adding in jest. “Is there somethin’ we ought t’ know?”

Tove arched a delicate brow at him.

“You know I have no man Finan,” she responded contritely.

It was not for lack of interest on the men’s part. There were opportunities for her if she had wanted one. A certain Saxon who was also part of the household troops had become rather taken with her in fact. Dark haired and blue eyed, Rypere was a good fighter. They had sparred with each other on a few occasions. After one sparring match, Rypere had even taken her lightly by the hand and asked if she would take a private walk with him that evening.  Tove had declined the invitation politely. It had not entirely deterred him though and Rypere’s eyes still occasionally followed her across the yard or the street.

“Aye, I do know tha’,” said Finan with good humor. “But that shouldn’ stop ya havin’ a good time.”

Tove rolled her eyes in dramatic fashion.

“It is for Gisela,” she said simply. “She is with child again -as I’m sure you know. I pray so that Freya may watch over her as she carries the child. Gisela is a good woman.”

“She is,” he agreed.

Uhtred had spoken in hushed tones to him about Gisela during their time with Sverri. On the dark and freezing nights spent curled together in that drafty cabin they would whisper tales to each other. It distracted from the cold. Uhtred almost always spoke of the beautiful dark haired Dane -his Gisela.

They lapsed into a companionable silence. Again, Tove began to softly hum and then sing the ballad of Freya. Finan sat lazily beside her allowing the soothing tones to wash over him like a calming tide.

“You could have been a wealthy poet,” said Finan upon the song’s completion.

“Could I?” Tove asked with a light laugh.

“Indeed. Wealthy and lusted after. Kings would ‘ave showered you with gold to stay in their halls,” though his words were matter of fact there was a light tone of jest to them.

“You are a flatterer Irishman,” she snickered.

“One of those many talents you heard of lass,” he responded with a quick smirk and a wink.

Tove grinned to herself.

They had grown into an easy friendship since she joined Uhtred’s crew. All the household warriors had welcomed her as they trusted their Lord explicitly and thus Finan’s friendship was not the only one she had gained, but they were still the closest. Even more so than she and Sihtric which was in a way surprising as they shared their Danish heritage, but Tove was somewhat wary of his Saxon wife and her Christianity. In truth she was originally wary of all the Saxons at first. There were those who hated her because she was a Dane and, in all fairness, she could not begrudge them that considering what her people did to their lands. Though, the longer she stayed the less they scorned her and the less wary she became overall. The Saxons were not so bad.

She stopped carving the rune. Absently running her thumb over it clearly deep in thought. The rune was Vegvisir meaning ‘that which shows the way’ and regarded as a compass. It was a symbol terribly similar to Aegishjalmur a common protection rune of her people which she had meant to carve for Gisela. Though at some point she must have unconsciously changed her mind.

Had the Gods influenced the decision? Or had she thoughtlessly changed her own mind? It was hard to say. A matter she would ponder later that night when she lie awake chasing sleep.

Pricking her finger with the tip of her knife, Tove smeared the few drops of blood that welled over the symbol. She watched it dry. Finan, who had been looking out across the river, turned back to her then watching the ritual. Once she finished with the blessing, Tove tossed the rune in the air, caught it, and held it out to him.

He paused before taking it. His fingers brushed over her palm, lingering briefly, then he plucked it from her hand to examine it. A few times he turned it between his fingers as though fully taking it in would unlock the unfamiliar scratches meaning.

“What is it?” Finan asked finally.

“A rune,” said Tove as though it were quite obvious.

“Yes, but what’s its meanin’?” He asked, expression somewhat exasperated by her vague response.

“It is a compass of sorts,” she said. “Keep it. Something tells me the Gods intended it for you.”

His brow arched incredulously. Of course, Finan, like his Irish kin, was a Christian. Though, the Irish brand of Christianity was tangled with myths of their ancestors and many still believed the Old Gods did have power.

“They did hm?” His tone was skeptical.

“I believe they did,” Tove affirmed lightly.

“And what would I be needin’ a compass fer? Ya believe we are t’ go t’ sea?” He was teasing then.

She shook her head.

“But they tell ya t’ give it t’ me?”

“They do not. It is a feeling,” she said simply. “I am no seer.”

Finan nodded. “Perhaps it will help me find my way in battle eh?”

Tove chuckled. “We are at peace.”

He snorted. “Ya cannot convince me ya believe it will last.”

“No. It will not last,” she agreed.

And the peace was not fated to last. A week and a half later, Danes came.

-----

“Danes! Danes Lord!”

It was mid-morning and the household warriors were all in the yard engaged in a variety of training exercises when the messenger came. His arrival created a ruckus in the yard distracting the men and causing them to still their blades. Uhtred broke from his own exercises to meet the harried man in the middle of the yard. Tove glanced at Finan with a slight knowing smirk to which the Irishman snorted and gave a slight shake of his head.

“The Danes,” the messenger uttered again through labored breathing.

Uhtred crossed his arms over his chest his expression a mixture of expectant and bored. The news was no surprise; he had been certain they would come it was only a matter of time. Danes had lusted after Wessex since they first landed in Britain.

“So, they have. Where?” Uhtred demanded.

“The south- “

“South?”

That was interesting. It meant a direct attack on Wessex and that was a bold move. Alfred’s burhs fortified that land well.

“Yes Lord. And the west from Kent,” the messenger added looking a tad disgruntled at being interrupted now he had caught his breath.

“And you have word from the King?” Uhtred prompted because there was little doubt the messenger had come from Alfred’s court.

“Aye! I do Lord,” he spoke with an air of importance that no doubt irritated Uhtred as it did the others. “He wishes for you to sail and bargain with the Danes who’ve landed in Kent. The King says It is Haesten-“

“That vile piece of weasel shit,” Uhtred snarled.

“Further instruction will come within the fortnight.”

Frustrated, Uhtred waved his hand dismissively. “And a messenger has been sent to the Bishop as well?”

“I’m to go to him next Lord,” he stated.

“Get on with it then.”

The messenger gave a short bow and was gone. With the man’s departure Uhtred turned his attention back to the warriors who were still watching the interaction with interest. Some were frowning with apparent concern while others like Tove were showing small grins of anticipation. It was what they had been preparing for, but at the same time it was not. The Danes had come, but they were to negotiate not fight.

Erkenwald was not pleased by the messenger’s news and must have come straight to the training yard upon hearing because by the time they had wrapped up there he was. A gaggle of several priests trailed behind him when he entered, and his eyes went directly to Lord Uhtred who gave a mighty sigh at the sight of him. Of course, he was not surprised only annoyed to have to deal with him. Despite that, Uhtred waved the Bishop over and they retreated into the house. With the two had gone the assembled warriors started to peel off heading toward their afternoon duties.

At Finan’s suggestion the household fighters lingered. They were to patrol that afternoon and the Irishman wanted to wait to ensure Uhtred had no special directives. Thankfully, they did not have to wait long for the meeting to be over. Bishop Erkenwald and his priests exited the house not ten minutes after his arrival and Uhtred followed shortly after them. An annoyed expression adorned his face and he said nothing as he gestured towards the stable. No comment was made about their impending mission as they readied the horses and when they were done, they set off.

For a while they just rode observing the lands passively for signs of any Danes. There were none and they started to relax after a while. Though their gaze was still vigilant, they relaxed some and began to banter among themselves.

“Did you know Haesten?” Osferth asked, the question directed at Tove.

She rode to the left of Sihtric while Osferth was slightly ahead of them on the right, so he spoke over his shoulder. A little frown turned down the corners of Tove’s lips. The question was innocent and Osferth did not notice the slight discomfort it caused her.

“Of course, I knew him,” she said shifting somewhat in her saddle. “But Njal did not like him much so we did not associate with his crews frequently.”

The former monk’s expression showed surprise at her words. His impression seemed to have been that they all got along swimmingly when they were working together which could not have been further from the truth. Danes were ever quarrelsome even amongst themselves and squabbles frequently broke out. Such squabbles were exacerbated by people like Haesten who seemed to bring trouble wherever he went and the men he kept in his service were not wholly of the honorable sort.

“Our Lord hates him,” Sihtric supplied. “Haesten swore an oath to him once...but he broke it.”

Uhtred must have heard their conversation because he also turned in his saddle.

“I saved that piece of gristle’s life, he swore himself to me in thanks, and then he fled,” Uhtred spat. “He is an honorless swine.”

It was Tove’s expression that colored with surprise then.

“And you did not kill him?” She asked.

“Haven’t had the chance, but I will. Someday,” Uhtred answered.

“As you should Lord. To break an oath is a most grievous affront to the Gods,” agreed Tove.

Uhtred gave her a rueful smile but nodded his own agreement.

“We’ll cut out his lying tongue and string ‘im up from a tree Lord. Let the ravens peck out his eyes,” Finan said jovially.

“But not unless the King allows it,” Osferth said.

“Not unless the King allows it,” Uhtred echoed though his tone was starkly different than Osferth’s matter of fact one.

As the topic of conversation turned lighter time seemed to pass quickly and before anyone knew it, they were returning for the city. With the horses stabled most everyone was headed in the direction of the tavern for a few drinks before bed. Instead of following the group, Tove chose to peel off in the direction of her home and bed. She was about to round the corner when a voice called out to her.

“Where’re you goin’?” asked the speaker.

She turned to see Rypere a few paces off with a slight lopsided grin on his face. Unable to stop herself, Tove exhaled a soft sigh. It was not that she disliked Rypere. He was kind, fairly handsome, and quite close to her in age at only twenty or so. It was only that the young Dane had no current desire for romance.

“Home,” she said shortly though her tone was polite as ever.

“You’ll not come drink with us tonight? Soon there will not be much time for leisure I expect,” Rypere pointed out, his eyes flicking over her as they often did.

Tove glanced over Rypere’s shoulder at the rest of the men. Most of them were laughing raucously and telling jokes already as they walked. Sihtric and Osferth were in some debate already. Finan, who lagged a little behind the group met her gaze with a raised brow.

“I will not,” she said, quickly looking away from Finan to focus back on Rypere. “I’d like to get some rest.”

There was a moment where Rypere looked like he wanted to attempt persuading her, but just as he opened his mouth to do so he seemed to think better of it. He offered a tight smile instead and nodded. 

“I hope you rest well then, Tove,” he said and then was off.

Idly she watched Rypere’s retreating back as he headed off to join the other soldiers. A thought that perhaps this time he had taken her rejection to heart flitted through her mind. Then her eyes fell again upon Finan as if somehow he had drawn them to him. A smirk played at his lips, he winked at her. Tove shook her head at the incorigable Irishman and turned for home. 

[hecohansen31]

Hello darling! I’d love to request prompt 94 with Aldhelm (because I know you love him 😉) I hope you enjoy writing!!

(A/N): Hello there lovelies,

I rarely do author’s notes anymore, because nobody reads them, but in case you are wondering, I am not going to be extra active on here.

After exams I usually end up feeling all the emotions I shoved back under anxiery so please excuse me if I am not answering anything, I just am not emotionally stable enough for it.

As soon as I am back I am taking care for everything.

WARNINGS: Fluffety Fluff

I never liked it, I lied.

When you came home, you immediately smelled the unpleasant smell of your least favorite dish.

Aldhelm’s favorite, unluckily for you.

He always tried his best to prepare it for you, after you had complimented on it once, wanting to desperately appease the man.

You had been constantly insecure for the first part of your relationship, having your own problematics, constantly worried of the competition with Aethelflaed, his dearest friend and long-time crush before he had met you, although she had actually been the one who had set you up.

Sadly, from then on you hadn’t been able to ever say the truth to Adlhelm and the man had kept on preparing it whenever he felt like it and whenever he thought of cheering you up, although it tasted like chalk in your mouth.

But you couldn’t deny that you appreciated the thought behind the dish.

But each time you hoped not to eat it again.

And yet, whenever you were faced with a plate of that, you always ate it up without tasting too much the flavor of it, although Aldhelm was extremely talented in the kitchen, having quite a passion for it and when his best friend, Aethelflaed, had opened a restaurant, asking him to be her partner in the economical part, he had actually spent more time in the kitchen than setting up deals.

And you loved him immensely for it.

And a few years of being happy together totally showed that.

Everybody around you two was just waiting for Aldhelm to pop up the big question, although you both took it slow, both having your own baggage and thoughts, taking one step at the time, as you kept each other involved in things also outside your relationship.

“Welcome back home” he greeted you, once you were out of your coat and you had dropped the bag in the first corner you could find, smiling brightly at your lover, as he attentively checked the oven and you tried to at least distract yourself from the unwanted meal with a few kisses, meanwhile Aldhelm giggled.

Gosh, you were both so giddy as of lately.

The restaurant he and Athelflaed took care of was slowly taking off and you had been very praised at work.

So, of course Aldhelm had to prepare his favorite meal.

But he had done something more, and he slightly pushed you back from entering fully the kitchen, as you sent him a confused look but eventually relented, more than happy to simply sit back and let your own personal chief do his thing.

The starters were wonderful and you tried your best to stuff your stomach before you went to the first meal, Aldhelm certainly keeping your glass filled with sweet wine and soft words and you celebrated your success and happiness.

No insecurity in view and a bit drunk, you were ready to face the ‘feared’ dish, when Aldhelm moved a bit away from you, just as you were diving in for another kiss, making you yelp in protest but he did ask you to wait.

‘I have a surprise for you’ and you hoped it would be a delicious dessert or an interesting new composition.

He asked you to close your eyes, even going as far as to cover them with his tie, as you muttered softly ‘kinky’ smirking at your idiot, who wasn’t able to stop himself from lowering his lips onto yours in a last kiss.

And you did expect food, since it had happened many times that your food geek had asked you to close your eyes to enjoy the taste and smell of food better, as they did in expensive restaurant.

But the smell didn’t seem to change and instead it intensified the horrid stench of your hated dish and you tried your best to calm yourself, till you felt Aldhelm again in front of you, reigning your face in a soft smile.

And slowly the makeshift blindfold was untied from behind your head, bringing you to face the light again as Aldhelm moved in front of you, lowering himself down on one knees and exiting a small box from behind his back.

A jewelry box.

And you couldn’t help but let out a rather ungraceful shriek.

“… what are you doing, Aldhelm?” you mumbled, as you tried to keep your voice calm, but unable to properly stop yourself from thinking that maybe it wasn’t the best thing that maybe… just maybe he didn’t mean to truly propose himself to you “… is it what I think?”.

And he opened the small casket to reveal a graceful ring, perfectly fitting your personality, something that made you scream loudly again at the marvelous surprise.

“… I know that we have said that we’d take our time, but…” he pursued his lips forward and hadn’t you known that he would have gotten just more nervous, you wanted to kiss them “… but I just can’t help but think that this is a perfect period for a wedding”.

“I have loved you since the first minute you accidentally waved me, since you thought I was your blind date in that restaurant…”.

Your date had actually stood you up and Aldhelm was supposed to meet Aetheflaed, there, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself from joining you and what had started as a simple coincidence had moved in a pleasurable knowledge, making Aldhelm ask you out, again.

‘For real’ this time.

“… and for all these years, you have showed me nothing but love and respect, something that I hope I was able to give to you too”.

“… you did it every day you woke up to me” you replied, and this time you didn’t stop yourself from kissing his lips, making him giggle and forget completely what he was trying to say, as he indulged you in a few more tender kisses.

“I love you” he commented, as he realized that you knew perfectly how much you meant to him “… marry me?”.

“Yes” and you jumped from the chair you had sit yourself onto him as you gently wrapped your arms around him, kissing him softly as you both pushed yourself away from each other, solely for him to slip the ring around your fingers.

And he then suggested he set up again the dinner, so that you could enjoy your meal.

And that’s when you finally realized it.

“… can I tell you a secret, my love?” you mumbled shyly, getting a worried look from Aldhelm, his eyes scanning you worriedly “… nothing dangerous, I swear”.

And then you pointed at the dreaded dish.

“I never liked it, I lied”.

---

Everything Taglist:

@maggiescarborough

TLK Taglist:

@flowers-in-your-hayr

[iseultdeservedbetter]

Everytime A Bell Rings An Angel Gets His Wings:

Eadith+Angel+Candles/Light+Alluring

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

This is my enter for the ‘TLK-October’ by @tsukkinami​!

(I am very excited for also the November challenge and I am already browsing my ideas for the new fic I’ll have to come up with!).

Thank you for creating this and I hope you’ll enjoy this, although it is a very ‘different’ fic, set up in a modern AU, with what I am sure is a very OOC! Eadith, but I do hope you’ll like it!

Also a few thoughts.

Atropos and Moira, goddesses of Destiny or better said as the ones that hold and take care of the thread of life (and Atropos is the one that cuts the thread).

Matelda, character of Dante’s “Inferno” who has the precise purpose of helping purifying and cleaning souls that will later get into Paradise.

Lethe, infernal river that will make you forget everything that you have lived.

SUMMARY: Waking up with no knowledge of whatever happened to you never means anything good, even more if you end up waking with a new and important duty to fulfill.

And no memory.

WORDS: 4,9 K

WARNINGS: Mention of Death, Mention of Poop, Imprecise Talk of Afterlife Mixing Various Set Ups, Other Various Incorrect Things, Modern AU

When she woke up the light in her eyes, her last memory, was lightly dimmed by the solemn atmosphere she found herself in and as her eyes lightly came to adapt to the whole world surrounding her, she understood that she wasn’t in the complete darkness, anymore.

She was in a church.

And as she searched through her mind, she found the definition of a church.

But strangely she couldn’t remember her name, no matter how deep she dug in her head trying to discover something more than the awful atmosphere around her.

Her throat was still choked and spasmed agonizingly as she pushed herself to try to utter the name out of her lips.

But there was no use and eventually all she could do was walk in the path right in front of her, thinking that if she couldn’t remember what she was doing there, she might have as well tried to find some information about herself from the place she had woken up into.

Or where she had been pushed in, by the fact that she was standing on her own two feet, almost as if she had been just created on the front door of the spectral place,

Which was spooky.

But not knowing anything about herself because of what looked like a temporary black out in her mind, this could as well have been her house.

Although it looked like it came out from a horror movie.

Perfect: she knew two things since she had opened her eyes.

Churches and horror movies.

And she wondered for a moment what that strange match meant.

Had she been in a cult before?

The idea definitely rendered all her surroundings a bit more justifiable, since if she had just woken up in some kind of cult crisis induced horror story, she would have probably woken up same utter confusion of that moment.

But the place looked strangely… empty.

And she knew that if there was one thing that horror movies had taught her was that cults wouldn’t leave you alone.

Even if you put a few good countries between yourself and them.

But then something caught onto her attention and she realized that the place wasn’t empty anymore, but instead on the first row of the thick and blackish bench she saw an old veiled lady shrunk in herself, in a way that made her seem like some kind of harmless ghost.

But she might have been also a vengeful spirit.

And she wondered for a moment if she hadn’t just lost her mind completely.

Or if she was on the set of a horror movie, too deep in her role of the poor and desperate victim of the horrific ghost…

… and yet her feet moved forward towards the old lady, but as she walked further up, she found out that there were two others in the row behind the initial figure, with their heads put down on the back of the bench in front of them, completely cloaked in what looked like a thick veil of pure night.

And hadn’t she been so sure that this was either a manic dream or a well-written movie, she would have thought that she had seen the threads in their cloaks scrunch up and move on its own.

As if they wanted to escape the fabric.

The ladies didn’t meet her gaze as she shamelessly looked at them, but they obviously felt her presence, suddenly starting a devilish lullaby that must have been some kind of awful prayer, tight-lipped and in some dark language.

And yet it only enhanced the atmosphere around her.

And the rhythm of it grew alongside her steps, till she was in front of the veiled woman on the front row, unlike her ‘friends’ with her back held up high to allow herself to stare deeply and longingly onto the stand of the eucharist.

But there wasn’t any admiration in her eyes, just a tight-lipped glare.

But it wasn’t the open blasphemy in them that made her jump back of a scared surprise.

It was the pure absence of eyes that shook her to the very core.

Well the FX must have been very very proud of themselves, because she almost shitted in her pants at that sight…

But it seemed too real to be a simple make-up.

Some green screen shit probably…

“… you took your sweet time, little one” muttered the woman and the breath was stuck in her lungs since she didn’t know how the hell the woman had seen or perceived her presence.

She just knew that she was scared and suddenly cold, glad that the sightless gaze wasn’t set up on her, but yet somehow annoyed by the haughty tone of the woman.

She lightly stuck her tongue out to the woman, almost childlike but all the main characters in horror movies did such idiotic things at the climax of the movie.

And if some kind of monster just wanted to take her out why should she wait patiently her turn?

Being on his nerves would have saved her the anxiety that was starting to burn up her stomach and that confusion that was building in her mind.

“… don’t stick your tongue out to me, sweetheart”.

She stopped her gesture midway, risking of biting down on her tongue.

Painfully.

And the woman smirked at her clumsiness and quickly patted down the spot of the harsh rock where she sat, in an offer that she wasn’t sure that she could refuse, but she willed her body to slow down as the rhythm of the women’s mantra became more relaxed and lower in its tone, becoming a whisper.

Swallowed by the night.

“You are a newbie” muttered the woman, as she tore he eyes away from the woman, just as she slipped in next to her, careful to even come near to that woman, something hissing in her clothes and the same nightmarish moving thread working its magic through the elegant features of an eternal outfit.

Hadn’t she been…

… eyeless…

… the old woman would have been quite the elegant lady.

And with a quick gaze shot to her, as the lady shifted her whole body to take in the young woman in front of her, she knew that the nightmarish creature knew exactly what she was feeling.

How she was feeling.

“… oh… I mean… I don’t have much… experience as an actress” she didn’t know why she uttered that, but she was glad to defeat the sound that was thrumming in her ears, a mixture of the complete nightly silence and the enchanted lullaby that the two women behind her emitted “… not that I can… remember much of what I was before …”.

“Oh, that’s a side effect of the Lethe” muttered the woman as she threw her arms to the air, again that annoyed look like a secretary that had just been handled a pile of paperwork a few minutes after she had clocked out “… I always tell Matelda that she shouldn’t hold the souls down for so long… but Gosh… ‘she doesn’t tell me how to do my work so I don’t have any saying in what she does…’ and you’d think it’d be demons the bitches of the Passing…”.

“… Matelda?” she uttered out, the name sounding as strange on her tongue as the mention of the ‘Passing’, but she knew one thing for sure.

Lethe was an infernal river.

And if she wasn’t wrong (confirmed by the words of the woman in front of her) it was meant to delete the memories of the souls, before they went over to Paradise, after their staying in Purgatory.

And had she… been called a soul?

“Oh yes, my dear! An awful woman truly… no manner… just a quick service and not even a smile” and to reinforce that she was utterly different from that she smiled.

Showing her a teethless smirk.

Well, hadn’t she shitted her pants at the sight of her eyes, she had now.

Was it even possible for a soul to shit her pants?

“… and who are you?” the voice choked on her throat.

And again, the woman did notice it.

And the smile that she was gifted with wasn’t in any way comforting.

“Oh what a rude woman I must have seemed to you, little rose” muttered softly the woman, as she promptly put one leg over the other and she swore that she had seen the thread starting to push itself to move onto her leg as she did this gesture “… I am Atropos, inflexible ruler of the thread of life, alongside my sisters”.

And as if it was natural, she turned around to look around to shoot a quick look at the women, who didn’t raise their head from their prayers, but the sensation of two other pairs of eyes made her feel at even more unease.

And as she made to raise up from her sat position, she found herself stuck there.

“… aren’t you familiar with me?” her voice was now an hushed growl and for a moment underneath the pretense of a gentle old grandma with a style that brought a designer best nightmares, she could see a decaying figure.

Genderless and utterly primordial.

And she remembered who she was.

Apparently, her ample vocabulary also knew the Moira, the goddesses that spun the thread of life, eventually cutting it when one’s life ended.

And if she had met one of them, the last one, she must have been pretty much dead.

That explained much.

She would have still preferred the horror movie solution.

But hey… you couldn’t have everything.

“… I’ll take that as a yes” hissed the woman “… I always make a certain impression on the ones that come here for the first time, but don’t worry, sweetie, I don’t eat humans, unlike many of my Mother’s other children…”.

That was comforting.

And if she was dead there wasn’t much that could have physically pained.

Except trying to remember what was going on.

That gave her quite the headache.

“… but we have to speed this up, because I have an appointment in a few centuries, although for you it is something like… five minutes…” the blabber created more confusion in her mind that the childish sound that the woman’s sisters produced intensified in a way that made this all seem like a bad joke.

Except it was the truth.

“… you have been chosen to become a guardian angel, congratulations”.

A guardian angel?

She hadn’t even known that she was dead till a few minutes ago!

“… like the ones… with wings?”.

“Oh, not immediately! You gotta earn them, first!” commented the woman cheerily, almost happy that she was slowly getting the entire story without her having to speak about anything.

And honestly, she would have actually felt better if the frightening creature had kept her mouth closed.

Would she have become also like that?

No, no angels were pretty!

“… what does… what does this mean?” Gosh, if she wasn’t dead, she would have been because whatever had prompted this psychological trip must have been quite… heavy on her whole body and was already fucking up her mind.

“That you are assigned to a human! You keep them safe and if you manage to do that… you get your wings and eventually a few discounts for Paradise…”.

“… I thought… that was what Purgatory was for…” she mumbled underneath her breath more for herself than anyone else, but the woman still caught onto what she had said and with a conspiratorial glint in her absent eyes.

And she leaned painfully closer to her.

She swore that she smelt like something between a bad perfume gone rotten and the warmness of burnt fire.

“… well you see… the big boss… God, Allah and whatever you like calling them… just thought that the whole process with the Purgatory was slow… annoyingly slow. You pray a bit… you talk with other spirits and you hope those that the people you left behind will pray for you and then what?! You get automatically admitted in the Paradise club!”.

That seemed like a bad thing from the woman’s mouth.

“… so the big boss came up with this, his own Charlie’s angels… less latex suits and more chastity till marriage and all that bullshit” with a soft look the woman shot a small smirk of penance to the upper floor and she couldn’t help but hold herself almost protectively about what would have come next “… you complete tasks, you get stars and in the end… puff… club Paradise is waiting for you”.

“That seems very…” ‘downright out of a reality TV series’ “… tiring”.

“And you haven’t heard the best part” the twisted smirk on the woman’s rotten mouth definitely didn’t talk about anything ‘good’ “… you can’t refuse, so smile and let me get a small photo for our badge”.

And before she could even protest or say anything a flash of light completely swamped her and no matter the fact that she protectively covered her eyes with an arm, she was still blinded by the powerful shot, similar to the one that had brought you there.

Should she have expected any kind of tunnel after the light?

But after the light came screams, which made her think that whatever that conversation had been, she was back to planet Earth.

A place that smelt bad and was half as noisy as the stank that surrounded her sensible body.

Fresh shit.

Perfect.

She just hoped it wasn’t hers.

But as she was able to finally see again, she was relieved to discover that she hadn’t actually shitted her pants, although she had to cut herself a bit of slack since she had basically discovered that she was dead and she had met what looked like an ancient monster.

It didn’t take her long to realize where she was.

She was in a child’s nursery, so she wasn’t too surprised to discover that there was a crib in the center of it, where a pinkish babe was wiggling around softly and comfortably in what looked like a diaper full of shit.

Was… was her purpose as an angel to change diapers?

She approached the crib carefully, almost as if she was expecting the Earth beneath her to open and swallow her wholly in an image that would have pleased her more than the prospect of changing diapers.

If she knew one thing about herself, after that sudden memory loss was that she didn’t exactly like changing diapers or caring for children.

But the child was strangely cute.

Button nose and light eyes, and a smile that would have opened the doors of the most desperate of hearts.

Although the smell was quite… an obstacle to her wanting to put her arms around the child and hug it tight to her chest.

The other sudden intrusion was the fact that suddenly a voice was heard, matched by the cries of the babe that had suddenly lost any interest for her and now was calling out desperately for its mother, answering with a series of ‘cuttie patootie’ names that made her puke a bit in her mouth.

She hadn’t definitely been a mother before the whole death and ‘angel thing’.

She wondered whether she should have hidden herself.

She was sure that whether the whole ‘you are an angel’ was true or it wasn’t, it definitely would have been quite curious to find a fully-grown woman in your child’s room.

Even more when she had no idea to why she was there.

The child seemed able to perceive her, as its clear gaze shifted onto her and like the cutest sack of potatoes she had ever witnessed it started to roll up closer to her, just for her to back off and flee underneath a curtain as the door’s handle lowered itself, announcing the mother’s presence.

“… I am coming, my dearie!”.

She held her tongue, putting an hand over her mouth as a good measure to stop herself from saying anything that would have revealed her presence, although she was pretty sure that the thin light blue-colored curtains didn’t help her much.

And as she was halfway through shifting under the desk of what looked like an half-built vanity, she found that she hadn’t managed to run out the horrible monster who had shifted onto a more human appearance, complete of one eye that was burying itself deep in her soul.

But she was sure that with or without it the woman could see her perfectly.

She wanted to scream, but with a quick look to the domestic scene of the doting mother changing the crying babe, she again bit down her tongue, making the woman let out a powerful laugh, the kind that was probably buried under a lot of layers of self-control.

And probably that hadn’t been uttered since 1967.

‘They can’t hear us…’ and she moved closer to the woman, gently passing a hand through her stomach, with no kind of reaction from the human that just kept her work ‘… and they can’t touch us’.

Was that some kind of superpower you gained through birthing a child?

Because she wasn’t wholly convinced about the fact that she was an angel.

“… this little one, instead…” and the child hid immediately her face away from the woman, scared and intensifying her cries, that sounded like a delightful song to the monstrous woman “… can… and she’ll always be able to see you, as she grows up, to let you do your own duties as a guardian angel”.

“I am not sure…”.

“You have been chosen because during your life you acted as a protector to somebody close to you, till the last minutes of your death”.

Wasn’t that consoling.

“Now you’ll cover the position of the guardian angel to the same creature that breathed her first breath once you breathed out your last” now the monster tone had left out any ironic comment “… if you manage to make her have an happy life you’ll get your wings, understood?”.

Not that it was a true question, but she found herself nodding her head.

“… now that everything is clear, I’ll leave you two to get to know each other” and turning another time to the child that had just calmed herself down, making her scream right in the ear of her mother, she vanished in thin air with a small ‘… works every time’.

And then the newly-angelled angel realized that she was in big trouble.

She hadn’t a name

And Any basic knowledge about her life.

But she had a duty.

And that was a good starting point.

In her internship period as a ‘guardian angel’ she discovered that babies didn’t do much, except being cute little shits that pooped too much and cried, when you were least expecting.

And the child she was supposed to babysit, who she had horridly named ‘Experiment 1’, wasn’t an exception to any of those activities, and instead she had had to add to the list of ‘things baby did’ the ‘sleeping for entire hours and waking up angry’, which prompted her many times to run around the house worried.

She had discovered that she wasn’t visible and neither able to come in contact with any human that wasn’t ‘Experiment 1’, but she could move a few things a bit around, not the in atrociously painfully way Patrick Swayze did in ‘Ghost’, but she had still limited movements.

Her body denying her as soon as she forced herself to do anything more than make something fall like an annoyed cat to shift the mother’s attention on ‘Experiment 1’ ‘s labored breathing, when she had caught a small minor sickness.

Prompting her to reach out to a doctor.

She had then discovered that she could travel in cars, and although it was like being completely invisible, once she had been hit in the face by an heavy travel bag, which had gone through her as if she had never been there, it had also hurt the place on her face that it had first come in contact with.

At the doctor’s office it had been revealed to her and the mother that, hadn’t it been for her bringing it to the mother’s attention, the baby would have probably developed a lung sickness further along, where it might have been dangerous.

Well… she had managed to get the child through the first month just fine.

She considered that an utter success.

And they actually celebrated the first month of the baby’s life.

People, related to the child, came to visit the mother.

They crowded the room and although the angel knew that she should have felt just a tiny bit surrounded by a crowd, she felt like she was just more alone.

The fact that she was dead, although an angel, hadn’t settled till then.

And another thing settled in her.

Where was the child’s father?

At the birthday party, as she managed to stole away a small piece of cake (she did seem to still enjoy the sweetest pleasures of life, although she didn’t need them to survive) she had found a very interesting piece of conversation to follow like a telenovela, hidden under the thick table of the kitchen.

“Do you think… he feels better?” a tempting voice of the old lady she had framed as the Experiment 1’s grandma spoke to another younger lady and with the confidence they were touching each other to comfort each other, they were evidently related.

Mother and daughter.

Did her own mother mourn her?

Had she had any siblings?

“… he feels better…” the words seemed painful to get out and then the woman pushed everything out as if she had just managed to break the lock that kept her thought in the jail of her mind “… physically, but…”.

“He has a child, he should worry about that!” the older woman retorted and also in her something had been utterly broken to make such an anger be released on the younger woman who shifted away in an evident show to hid herself from such a rage.

And for a moment she was happy to be completely invisible to others.

“… mom, it isn’t easy” the voice that came from the door of the kitchen spoke of tired nights and a pain that just flourished with each step and it belonged to Experiment 1’s mother.

The elegant dress she had chosen hung heavily onto her full frame, making her same like a scarecrow.

“… he lost… so much in the incident, you need to give him time”.

And she had just sneaked away slowly as the three women looked at each other in an intense fight to who would have lowered firstly their gaze, speaking of pain, rage and protectiveness.

And the question just remained in her mind.

But the tried to focus her mind on easier tasks.

By day she would be found by the child’s side and during the night she would sometimes go through the door of that small house, like a ghost, to explore the small apartment complex, hoping to find something about herself, but she just discovered that the girl of the fourth apartment had a scandalous affair with her boyfriend’s sister.

And that the old man who lived on the first floor hadn’t been able to see his grandchildren for a year now and would sometimes call out their name whenever she would stumble into a small object, making the smallest of noises.

And the Karen on the sixth floor had a collection of MAGA hat that had found its way in the trash bin, ‘accidentally’.

Then two months into her newest ‘work’ the child’s father came back home.

And she had almost flung herself to take a curious look at him him, spying him from the threshold of the kitchen that was the first room he’d appear in after passing the entrance and where Experiment 1’s mother was waiting gently trying to usher the crying babe, startled awake by the sound of the doorbell.

She, herself, had been trying to make silly faces to calm her.

But the child just hid her face in her mother’s neck and cried louder, probably breaking her mother’s eardrum.

It was quite a picture to come back for the father.

Who looked like he had been through a tornado, that had left just his clothes intact.

But his aspect wasn’t the first thing she focused onto.

But on the fact that for a moment, for a split moment, he seemed to almost see her.

And he saw her as if he recognized her.

And then he went back to staring at the mother of his child, offering gently the child in her arms, but he kept his own to his side as if to say that he wasn’t interested, making her huff in pure annoyance as the angel just burned a hole through him.

For the first time she felt like she was recognizing him.

And that feeling of being stared upon intensified.

As did the mother’s annoyance at the father’s refusal of holding the newborn child, suddenly more and more terrorized by the new figure and crying in a way that didn’t go away even when her angel  cooed softly at her.

“… we can’t continue this way” the mother muttered tightly, as she pushed the child away from him and, although he had been colder than ice some kind of pain for the refusal filled his eyes, highlighting some kind of pained reaction to that denial “… it isn’t healthy for both of us and for… her…”.

“You haven’t even named her yet” the man’s eyes shifted on the ground and the angel in the side stayed silently behind, but her ears were pricked with interest “… it’s been what… a month… already…”.

The words meant something else, but he denied anything else as he left the words unsaid.

And the angel wanted to desperately know what he had meant with them.

“… I couldn’t…” confessed the mother “… and it wouldn’t have been fair”.

‘And you are changing the subject’ wanted to mutter the invisible angel, feeling like the man was shifting far and farther away from the truth.

And she needed to desperately know it.

“… you can choose whatever you want” the man muttered tired and the woman had a sudden spirit of rebellion, her eyes shining of pure lighting as she answered him, meanwhile the child had finally quieted herself.

“Then what about her name?”.

She knew they didn’t mean the grandmother’s name or anybody else.

And from the hurt look on the man’s face, he just had remembered something painful.

As the piercing pain that pinched the angel between her lungs.

“… no” it was a refusal that was so deep that it almost sounded like a growl.

“Eardwulf” it was the first time she heard the name and again that silver lining of remembrance rang true in her ears.

Intense as an annoying ringing of bells.

At 5 a.m. in the morning.

“… no we can’t” now the voice was choked and she could see the tears he wanted to desperately shed and the ones the woman had already started at seeing the love of her life completely destroyed “… she is gone and she isn’t…”.

“It isn’t meant to go this way!” protested thrillingly the woman as she moved to gently push an hand comfortingly onto his shoulder, obtaining no other response than a slight push that made her almost stumble backwards, exactly as she almost lost her grip onto the child.

And before the angel could properly think it through, she grabbed the child through the mother’s arm, strangely entering her body for a single moment.

But she didn’t exactly think through the whole dynamic she was just happy to have the child in her arm.

And the father looked at his gesture shook.

And he again, looked at her again.

Through the mother’s mouth she heard her saying:

“She doesn’t have to be gone for ever” the man now looked slightly a bit more convinced, something in him being so tired of fighting against an invisible enemy and he just shrugged his whole body in a relaxed pose.

“It is just… I lost her… it is all my fault”.

And for a moment a flash of light invested the guardian angel completely.

The scream of a hysterical man next to her and the feeling of something underneath her rolling through the floor as a constant beeping heightened its strength right when her lids became too heavy for her...

… and she fell.

She fell asleep.

Was this all linked.

“It isn’t your fault” muttered the woman tiredly, but with a gentleness that just petrified him on the spot and gently she tried again to lay the child in his arms and although rigidly he accepted the small creature, just as the guardian angel backed off, standing between the mother and father..

The father was just a natural at holding the baby, quickly learning to hold her hand and when he met her eyes, he fell in love.

And for a moment the guardian angel felt like she was in her rightful place.

And again, in that moment when the man turned his head suddenly to her she knew that he could see her.

And she knew.

“… you are right… she is gone, but not… forgotten” he muttered softly and then he gave her name back “… yeah… Eadith seems like a good name”.

[lanamemories]

hLO itsa me nai-io!!!!! (read shrieked in a high voice like mario if he buckled his dungarees too tight around the crotch)...... im sad i missed opening bt i had a pretty busy past 2 days so i didn’t hav any chance at all to b online bc i ws staying at a friends bt. anyway. excited to b here nw regardless of my Fashionably Late entrance. i’m 22 n live in manchester (the u freakin k Bay Bee) n cackle a little too mch like a witch fr supernatural suspicions nt to arise. thts all u rly need to kno. like this or hmu fr plots!! 

p.s. this is her pinterest for those of u tht like tht kind of thing

「 bridget satterlee. cis-female. 」have you seen lana jameson around yet? i hear SHE decided to be in ALPHA NU for their JUNIOR year as a DANCE major. the 21 year old SHEEP is known to be vivacious, alluring, childish and impulsive. ➨ the muse is written by nai. she is 22, in the gmt.

some random aesthetics: a red water pistol topped up with caribbean rum and covered in stickers of cartoon pin up girls, a vinyl record whirring silently because you got too distracted by a stranger’s hands to reach over and flip sides, giant inflatable flamingos floating in the aftermath of a pool party, smudgy lipstick kisses left like an autograph on someone else’s mirror, seventies platforms covered in bowie inspired lightening stripes, fanning the flush in your cheeks with a bright red flamenco fan in the back of a crowded lecture hall, michelangelo reminiscent statures clasping at their stone in suggestive places, bopping stranger’s on the forehead with heart shaped lollipops, a bumper sticker on the back of a convertible cadillac that says ‘SCRAPPY DOO IS A FILTHY SLUT’, lighting a paper lantern and saying “aw, how pretty,” only for the whole party to shriek as it crashes into a children’s tent in the next garden over, a ball point pen that turns a woman naked when you click up the nib, cackling so ferociously that you almost throw up and your ribs ache.

ok im a Lay Zee gorl n dnt wna waste any mre time redoin lana’s intro so im pastin in her old one so i cn hop right to interactions. the only thing i can think tht needs to b added is the stuff abt danny nielsen (an evil npc of mine bc im a sadist) who recently beat up zeke van doren (full name this is Official feel like im writin a journalist article) bc he found out him n lana slept tgether n her n danny were kind of dating if....u can call his idea of romance tht. danny is in custody nw bt its a whole Thing like.... is prob... known around lockwood bc it ws a pretty intense..... thing tht happened n danny ws quite a popular senior

grew up in a big house in albany, NY, bt also spent time all over the place n was in the city a lot

okay so her mum is an old money socialite / three time campaign model way back when n her dad is a big record label mogul. he owns a label called jameson records n they repped a few big rock bands back in the eighties, altho they’re mostly known for ‘poppy injects’ whose lead singer had a big heroin scandal tht brought down his career. lana p much grew up around musicians snorting lines instead of spooning down cereal fr breakfast n her parents were v much absent her whole life

they’re pretty well off obviously n bc of her relation to such a big music industry figure she’s hung out w a fair few relatively high rep ppl thru her teens. she amassed kind of an instagram following mainly fr her style (v penny lane-esque in some aspects aka lots of fur cuff trimmed jackets bt then also jst…. a wild combination of everything honestly. pastel faux fur coats, seventies style platforms, flame red cowboy boots, pink fishnet tights n glitter used like highlight Everywhere) n bc she’s undeniably very pretty

her parents always kind of jst… didn’t like her. it was v clear that she was an accident after her older brother caleb n that even when they just had him alone they weren’t cut out for parenthood. they always kind of jst… ignored her n hoped she’d go away. she had to mke herself microwave meals when she ws only like 12 bc they’d forget to get her anything. once she went like 6 days without her mum even looking her in the eyes once

despite this tho!!! she’s always been insanely close w her brother caleb. he’s her whole world. thts why when he decided to sign up to the army she ws understandably scared bt supported him after initially bein mad tht he ws leavin her all alone. bt then he wound up getting discharged under grounds of severe ptsd when he witnessed his best friend die in an explosion tht took place in a shock raid. caleb returned home n he was never the same n lana kind of felt like he’d died out there too. he’s in n out of hospital a lot n it’s rly hard on her bt she doesn’t tlk abt it to anyone rly

growing up lana was always a huge social butterfly. jst literally…. knew everyone n everyone definitely knew her. she ws one of those girls tht ws kind of impossible to ignore or forget. very animated, always made u feel like u were the centre of the universe whenever she spoke to u, always made it feel like u were best friends even if ud only spoken to her once. she has this magnetic way abt her tht is kind of hard to find in real life. it’s something ud only rly expect out of a movie character n she like. deliberately puts tht on sort of. kind of.... is always playing A Role of the person tht she wants to b seen as

she’s always been insatiably spontaneous n adventurous. always doing something weird n wild every weekend. she has ten thousand stories tht always earn a laugh or a gasp over how ridiculously absurd they r

anyway so after caleb got back he was rly withdrawn n depressed. he shut lana out n was kind of harsh to her a lot of the time, always telling her to leave him alone or pushing her away. it didnt help either tht lana had a rly traumatic experience w some of her dad’s colleagues at the label when she ws 16 n he was away n she cldnt even tell him abt it once he was bk bc of his own traumas. she kind of jst shut it all in n kept it to herself

this obviously?? made her spiral a lot. she was already a girl tht loved sex (she’d only rly done foreplay before tho) but since her trauma it got…. completely out of hand. it got to a point where she couldnt rly go 2 days without it, probably not even 1. her lowest point has probably been scrolling thru craiglist for anonymous encounters n meeting up w strangers on there fr a quick fuck jst for the thrill even tho it’s insanely dangerous n she cld wind up getting herself killed. it’s v clear at this point tht she has a sex addiction whether she’s ever admitted it or not

she also currently? is working as a cam girl. she found this website bc she trawls… porn stuff a lot n she wound up applying to work as one bc she thought it’d b fun n wld earn her some disposal income (even tho she frankly doesn’t need it bc she’s already well off). the guy tht manages all of the girls on the site is kind of suspect n it’s a whole plot i’m gna unravel where it’s actually like the front for a cult or something wild so. stay posted ig. kgjdkgjh

personality/some fun facts: uncontrollably flirty. boundlessly confident. cld make a joke out a paper bag n her comedy is sometimes surreal / absurd. she tends to laugh when she feels like crying n has a smile brighter than a ray of texas sunshine. always dapples her fingers thru the breeze when she’s driving in a car w the window down. her fav book as a child used to b alice in wonderland n she’d fantasise abt having her own little wonderland too where everyone knew her name n asked her things n took her on adventures. at the time it didn’t rly strike her how evident it was tht that was bc she was so lonely. she almost always has some sort of sweet on her, whether it’s strawberry laces or gummy bears or cherry lollipops. she adores david bowie n prince n madonna n anyone tht’s a vintage style icon w little care fr what ppl think. wildflowers r her favourites bc they’re the brightest and u can’t buy them. she’s had like 8472493874 ‘relationships’ n none of them hav lasted beyond a month / hav been terrible / hav seen her being treated badly / she’s cheated on them. i dnt think she’s actually been w anyone she hasn’t cheated on in some form or another

plot ideas: exes tht lana’s fucked over hideously. she’d probably cheat a lot and it’d be a whole…mess. mayb someone tht flipped the switch and cheated on her? a cousin plot cld b fun too. a friend tht lana fel out w bc she slept w their significant other. someone tht’s getting lana into drugs?? she’s kind of impressionable/down for anything so tht’s a likely scenario she’d get into tbh. an unrequited crush!! (either way is cool). someone tht is just hanging out w her/using her bc she has a lot of instagram followers or they want to b signed to her dad’s label. someone in a band!! she’d probably make like penny lane n b their groupie/sleep w them all fgjkshgkh. umm a good influence too mayb? oh and a past summer romance/fling tht cld either have meant a lot or not have meant anything at all. bonus points if both of them hav a diff viewpoint on it. honestly?? anything is fine i cld ramble for days

[emospritelet]

WIP Week Day 6 - Previously Unpublished WIP

This is my first (as yet unfinished, I have the smut to write) Swan Queen fic, which is a follow-up to my fic Sacrifice and to this post.  Sacrifice is a Rumbelle fic with SQ mainly in the final two chapters.  It was a canon-divergent take on the Black Fairy’s curse written before 6x21 aired, in which Gideon had been de-aged back to a baby, Belle was raising him as a single mother and Rumple had no clue that Gideon was his.  Belle awoke from the curse with TLK, and managed to wake Henry with use of the Storybook.  Regina was cursed to be the Black Fairy’s groom and Henry helped her out in the stables, and Emma was - well, basically canon: married to Hook, pale and miserable and a shadow of her true self.  Emma and Regina shared TLK and broke both their curses.  With me so far?  Anyway, this is the aftermath.  This fic is VERY anti CS and anti Hook, so don’t read if you actually like that pairing.

Regina pulled back a little, her lips still tingling from Emma’s kiss, from the magic they had produced.  From the proof they were True Love.  Henry burst through the diner’s doorway, turning to face his mothers and grinning widely.

“This,” he said.  “Is.  Amazing!”

“Kid…”  Emma ran a hand through her hair with a sigh.  “Look, I get this could be a little weird…”

“No, it’s great!” he insisted.  “I thought maybe we were all meant to be together as a family, but now I know you’re True Love, it’s even better!”

“True Love,” repeated Emma, looking a little dazed.

“We - did break the curse, Miss Swan,” said Regina dryly, and Emma started.

“Yeah,” she said.  “Yeah, I know, it’s just - wow.”

“Yeah.”  Regina’s voice grew soft, and she took a step towards Emma.  “It’s - it’s incredible.”

Emma’s eyes brightened, her mouth twitching in a tiny smile, and she reached for Regina’s hands, pulling her a little closer.  Regina smiled almost shyly, flicking her eyes upwards to meet Emma’s.  If she just stepped in a little more...

“So - are you moving in, Emma?” piped up Henry.  “We should move to Mom’s place, it’s way bigger.  I guess we have to beat the Black Fairy first and kick her out, but I could get my room back, and maybe we could get a dog…”

Regina pulled back with a sigh.

“Henry…”

“Oh my God, Killian!”  Emma dropped Regina’s hands, taking a step back.  “What the hell am I gonna say to Killian?  We just got married!”

“But you’re not True Love!” protested Henry.  “You can’t stay married to someone you don’t love, that’s - that’s not your happy ending!  It can’t be!”

“Henry,” said Regina seriously.  “That’s not our decision to make, it’s Emma’s.”

“But…”

“Come on.”  Regina put an arm around his shoulders.  “Let’s go get some dinner, and give Emma some time.”

Henry looked frustrated, but nodded, and Regina steered him back into the diner, casting a glance at Emma over her shoulder.  She felt a twinge of anxiety, watching the other woman pace back and forth with her hands on her hips and her head bowed.  What if Emma decided that she didn’t want to take the chance?  She’d been almost draped over the pirate for months now.  Would the breaking of a curse really change all that?

She told herself firmly that she had no control over how Emma might choose to handle the situation, and so there was no point in worrying about it.  Granny came bustling over as they sat down, and she ordered burgers for all three of them and another root beer for Henry, who was fidgeting in his seat.

“What were you doing with the book?” she asked, and he looked up.

“Oh, I was showing people their stories, trying to get their memories back,” he said, sounding a little crestfallen.  “It hasn’t worked, though.  Only for me.  Belle says it’s because I’m the Author.”

“Belle’s free of the curse?”  Regina pursed her lips.  “How come?”

“She kissed Grandpa Gold,” said Henry.  “It only woke her, not him, though.”

She frowned.  “That’s weird.  The man’s besotted with her.”

“We have a theory,” he explained, leaning on the table with his folded arms.  “We think the Black Fairy’s spell didn’t just make people miserable, it broke up families.  Part of the family being together might weaken it.  So Belle has Gideon, and I had you, but Grandpa Gold and Emma didn’t have anybody.  Well, no one who mattered, anyway.”

“Why is she trying to break up families?” asked Regina, and Henry shrugged.

“Don’t know, but she knows Belle’s not under the curse.  It’s probably best if she doesn’t find out about you and Mom.  The Queen and the Saviour, and hopefully soon the Dark One and his wife.  Two lots of True Love united against her…”

“Yeah, I think it’s definitely best that we don’t let her know we’re onto her,” agreed Regina, frowning.  “Although I can’t wait to see the look on her face when I take her down.  That bitch made me shovel horseshit until my arms ached!”

Henry chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“Let’s make a plan first,” he said.  “If Belle’s had any luck waking Grandpa, the Black Fairy doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Agreed.”

Regina looked up as Emma approached, looking hesitant, her face a little paler than normal above the red plaid shirt.

“I - I have to tell him,” she said.  “I can’t go on living a lie.  It’s not fair to anyone.  I think sooner rather than later.”

Regina nodded, wanting to sigh with relief.

“I ordered dinner,” she said.  “Let’s eat first.  He’ll only be in that awful bar, right?”

Emma nodded, sliding onto the seat next to Henry and opposite Regina.  Her mouth twitched in a nervous smile, her face lighting up for a moment, the pale, sickly look she had worn for months changed to something warm and bright and hopeful, and Regina couldn’t help smiling back.

It was approaching nine when they left Granny’s, Henry having been given stern instructions to go home and not follow them, much to his disappointment.  It had been agreed that Regina would accompany Emma in case Hook didn’t take the news well.

“You don’t have to hurt him,” Emma said, turning to face Regina, and walking backwards as she did so.  “Just - you know - he kind of has a temper.  If you could just sort of - incapacitate him, or something.”

“Oh, I’ll incapacitate him, alright,” said Regina dryly, flexing her fingers, and Emma sighed.

“Regina…”

She rolled her eyes, her mouth twisting at Emma’s pleading look.

“Fine, I won’t hurt him,” she said reluctantly.

Emma nodded, spinning back on her toes and striding off down the street.  Regina stalked after her, eyes flicking from left to right.  As they neared the club she stiffened, slowing her pace, and Emma looked around, her expression wary.

“There’s a trace of dark magic,” she whispered, and Regina nodded.

“I feel it,” she said.  “Must be the Mayor - I mean the Black Fairy.  Stay back, I got this.”

Emma shook her head.

“Emma Jones comes here every night to drag her husband home,” she said softly.  “Why the hell are you here?”

Regina glared.

“Maybe I play pool for ten bucks a time, who knows?” she whispered, and Emma shot her a wry look.

“Regina, even when you’re wearing jeans and smelling like a horse’s ass, you still look like a queen,” she said.  “There are only rats in this place.  Let me go in.”

Regina put her hands on her hips.

“Are you saying I smell like a horse’s ass, Miss Swan?”

Emma rolled her eyes and stepped closer, leaning in.

“You smell great,” she whispered.  “I meant when you’re at the stables - look, forget it!  Just let me go in, okay?”

Regina sighed, nodding, and Emma turned the corner towards the club, slipping out of sight.  Regina tapped her foot impatiently as she waited.  If Emma wasn’t out of there in ten minutes…

Emma hurried along the back street, ignoring the discarded cigarette packets and the odd used condom.  The Rabbit Hole had always had a less than savoury reputation, but under the current curse it seemed to be worse.  She licked her lips, imagining that she could still taste Regina’s kiss.  It was almost too wonderful to contemplate, to incredible to believe.  To think that the feelings that she had been trying to hide for so long were returned, to realise that the woman she loved not only loved her back, but was her True Love, that together they were capable of breaking powerful dark curses…  She shook her head, trying to concentrate on why she was there.  She had to try to explain things to Killian, and she had absolutely no idea how he would take it.  Odds were that he wouldn’t be in the mood to step aside, which was part of the reason she had asked Regina to hang back.

The door of the club was ahead, and as she drew near it swung open, banging back against the wall.  The Mayor - the Black Fairy - stalked out with her head held high and a tiny smirk on her face, the sleek legs of her black suit swishing as she walked.  Emma shrank back instinctively, trying not to draw attention to herself, and the Black Fairy turned to face her with narrowed eyes.  Red lips parted in a wide, insincere smile.

“Why, Mrs Jones,” she said brightly.  “How lovely to see you here!  I imagine you’ve come to collect your husband.”

“I - yeah,” said Emma, trying to act as listless and timid as she knew she had been.  “Is he in there?”

“Oh, I did hear him once or twice,” said Black, in a pleasant voice.  “The man has a mouth on him, doesn’t he?  Not to mention an eye for the ladies.”

“Yeah,” said Emma uncomfortably.  “I - I guess he does.”

“Well, I didn’t see him as I left,” said Black.  “But then I wasn’t looking for him.  Perhaps you’ll have more luck.  Good night, Mrs Jones.”

“Thank you, Madam Mayor,” said Emma, ducking her head, and Black stalked off down the street, high heels clicking.

Emma waited for a moment, bouncing almost nervously on her toes, then marched back around the corner.  She jumped as she almost barged into Regina, who had been waiting with her hands up, ready to let fly with magic if needed.

“Okay, she’s gone,” said Emma quietly.  “Stay behind me, and just - don’t fireball the place, okay?”

“You say that like I do it regularly.”

Emma shot her a flat look, and Regina looked as though she was trying not to smile.

“Okay,” said Emma.  “Let’s go.”

Regina thought Emma was steeling herself, taking a deep breath in and holding it for a moment, as though it would fill her with courage, before striding to the door.  Regina followed, keeping five paces or so back from her, and watched as Emma pushed open the door to the club.  The Rabbit Hole was dimly-lit, its usual perfume of stale beer and nachos filling the air, and she wrinkled her nose as Emma wound her way through the small knots of men, heading for the pool tables.  Regina lurked by the bar, blinking in surprise at a large birdcage that she could have sworn hadn’t been there the last time she had needed to set foot in this dump.  A large grey parrot sat on a perch, watching her with shrewd, beady eyes.  She turned around as Emma hurried over.

“He’s not here,” said Emma, a little breathless.  “Nottingham said he’d - he’d been trying to sweet-talk the Mayor.  Followed her to the bar trying to get her to have a drink with him.  No wonder she was saying he had a mouth on him!”

She looked annoyed, and upset, and Regina put a comforting hand on her arm.

“Maybe he went home,” she suggested, and Emma shrugged.

“Yeah, maybe.  He wasn’t with the Mayor, that’s for sure.  Come on, let’s go.”

She stomped out, the door banging behind her, and Regina cast a final glance at the parrot.

“Swaaaan!” it squawked, flexing its wings, and she took a step back, her eyes narrowing.

“Regina!”

Regina jumped as Emma stuck her head around the door.

“Yeah,” she said vaguely.  “Coming.”

Hook wasn’t at home, either, and Regina could see that Emma was starting to get upset at not being able to find him.

“I just - I want to tell him,” she said insistently.  “I want it over with, do you understand?”

“Actually I do,” said Regina.  “Is there anywhere else you think he might be?”

She shook her head, pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor.  She had pulled the band from her ponytail, her hair bouncing in golden waves around her shoulders, and Regina wanted to touch it.  Emma was chewing her lip, as though she was uncertain of herself.

“What - what Nottingham said,” she began, her voice hesitant.  “About - about him talking to the Mayor…”

“I highly doubt the Black Fairy has time for a boy-toy,” remarked Regina, and Emma sighed.

“I know that, I don’t think she’d touch him,” she said.  “But if he’s gone after her - who else has he tried to flirt with?  Who else is there that might have said yes?”

“I could try a locator spell,” suggested Regina, and Emma lifted her chin, shaking her head.

“No,” she said quietly.  “I waited home for him on enough occasions, now he can wait for me.”

She took a step closer to Regina, reaching for her hand.  That nervousness was back in her eyes again, that fear of rejection, and Regina wanted to kiss it from her, to press her lips to Emma’s, to trail them down her neck and make her forget the man who would never be worthy of her.  Emma gave her that tiny smile again, a thing of blooming, beautiful hope.

“Can we - can we go to your place?” she asked softly.  “Just - just for tonight, for now.  I think we need to - to talk.”

Regina squeezed her hand, her mouth curving in an answering smile.  Yes.  They needed to talk.  They needed to show one another how they really felt.

It burned that she couldn’t take Emma back to her true home, to the mansion in which she had spent the past thirty years or so.  The Black Fairy lived there now, no doubt going through her things and wearing her clothes and jewellery like she damn well owned the place.  Henry also lived there, her adopted son under the curse, which just added insult to injury as far as Regina was concerned.  At least Henry, too, was no longer subject to the dark magic she had cast over them, and Regina was looking forward to teaming up with her son, and with Rumple and Belle, to take the bitch out.

The curse had sent Regina to a small two-bedroom house near the stables, and she shot Emma a wry glance as she opened the door.

“Not exactly what I was used to,” she admitted.  “But it’s been comfortable enough.  Can I offer you a drink?”

“God, please!”  Emma ran her hands over her face.  “I don’t think you need to ask me twice.  Been a hell of a day.”

Regina led her into the compact kitchen, gesturing to the small table with its four chairs and shrugging off her coat.

“Take a seat, I’ll get the wine,” she said.  “Or would you prefer something a little stronger?”

“Wine’s good.”

Regina nodded, reaching into the cupboard for two glasses.  She set them on the table and reached for a bottle of red wine, and Emma pulled off her own coat and took a seat, stretching her legs out with a sigh as she leaned back in the chair.  Regina pulled the cork free with a pop and poured two measures, the wine flowing out in a thick, crimson stream.

“Thanks,” said Emma wearily.  “I feel as though my brain’s about to explode.  How long were we cursed?”

“Not long, I think,” admitted Regina.  “My brain tells me it was years, but I think it’s probably more like weeks, if that.  Henry says Belle woke first.  He was second.”

“The book,” said Emma, with certainty, and Regina nodded.  Emma took a drink.

“So Belle’s awake,” she said.  “I take it Gold is too?”

Regina shook her head.

“He wasn’t when Henry last saw Belle, but she was hopeful that she could get through to him,” she said.  “We could do with his insight.  The Black Fairy is his mother, after all.”

“And she kidnapped his son,” sighed Emma, and sat forward.  “Wait - so Belle’s kid is Gideon?  He’s a baby again?  And Gold has no idea he’s his?”

“So it would seem,” said Regina wryly, and Emma sat back again.

“Yeah, I really need to apologise to them for punching their son in the face that time,” she said, and she looked a little uneasy.  “I have no idea what came over me.  I was just - I was filled with this rage, it was like - like my mind wasn’t my own.”

Because it wasn’t, thought Regina.  It belonged to that leather-clad asshole.

“What do you remember about your life?” she asked.  “I mean before we kissed?”

“It’s like…”  Emma broke off, glancing away for a moment before looking back.  “You know when you have a dream, and it’s really, really vivid, like you think it’s real?”

Regina nodded, and Emma turned her glass around in her hands, leaving a smear of moisture on the table top.

“And then, “ she said,  “Then you wake up, and the whole thing starts to fade away.  By the time you’ve made coffee you’ve forgotten what the hell you were dreaming about.”

“And there’s just this vague memory floating around in your brain,” said Regina knowingly.  “And you start wondering why the hell you would ever dream about owning a pet store in Fort Lauderdale.”

Emma chuckled, her eyes sparkling.

“Something like that.”

“So it’s like a dream?”

“Kind of,” said Emma.  “It’s like - it’s like I was living a lie for years, and kissing you made me realise what was - what was really true.  Does that make sense?”

She wrinkled her nose a little, and Regina thought how adorable she looked.

“It makes total sense,” she said gently, and Emma’s face brightened with a beautiful smile.  It faded a little as she looked down at her wine.

“I’m kind of dreading seeing him,” she admitted.  “Killian, I mean.  I’d like to think he’d be happy for me, but I - I doubt it.”

Regina doubted it too, but she didn’t say anything.

“What do you want to do?” she asked.  “You can always come and stay here, you know.  I have a spare room.”

Emma looked up, shaking back her hair.  Her expression was suddenly calm, determined.  Every inch the strong woman that Regina knew she really was.  Every inch the Saviour.

“No,” she said, and it felt as though cold fingers had reached into Regina’s chest, closing around her heart and crushing it.  For a moment she couldn’t breathe, and then she managed to nod.

“Of course,” she said thickly.  “I mean - I mean if it’s going to make things uncomfortable for you, I’m sure Snow and David would let you…”

“Oh!”  Emma shook her head emphatically.  “Sorry, I meant - I meant no, I don’t want the spare room.  Not that I don’t want to move in, I do.  I want that.  It’s just - well, I thought we could sleep - together.  That’s all.”

A blush was rising in her cheeks, and Regina felt her heart thump, the icy fingers in her chest turning to burning embers.  She licked her lips, the air in the room suddenly feeling too close, too heavy.  Emma wanted to sleep with her.  In the same room.  In the same bed.

“Right,” she said.  “Of course.  I’d - I’d like that.”

Emma took a deep breath, fixing Regina with a heated stare.

“Starting tonight,” she said.  “If - if that’s okay.”

Regina dropped her eyes a moment, before glancing back up and smiling.

“It’s more than okay.”

They talked a little longer, finishing their wine, the heady taste of dark fruit in their mouths and the alcohol flushing their cheeks.  They were reaching out to one another almost without thinking about it, gentle touches trailing along the backs of hands, fingers twining together.  Regina watched Emma’s eyes gleam in the low warm light, her hair shining, love pouring out of her every time they glanced at one another.  Eventually the glasses were empty, and Emma pushed back her chair, standing up.

“You - uh - you’ll have to show me where to go,” she said, a little awkwardly, and Regina got to her feet.

“Top of the stairs,” she said.  “First on the left.  The bathroom’s opposite.”

“Okay.”  Emma hesitated, bouncing on her toes a little, and Regina put her head to the side.

“I can give you something to wear,” she said.  “I mean - when you said you wanted to stay - we don’t have to do anything, Emma.  Nothing that makes you uncomfortable, anyway.”

“Oh, I’m not uncomfortable,” Emma assured her, and shrugged.  “A little nervous, maybe.  Excited, I guess.”

Regina smiled.  “Me too.”

“Well, okay then.”  Emma shot her an almost shy smile.  “Shall we go up?”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

Regina followed her up the stairs, wishing they were back in the Mayor’s mansion, where her bed was larger and the rooms were lighter, and they could take a bubble bath together and curl on the couch before the open fire in the lounge.  Her house was small, the bedroom tucked into the eaves, but she supposed that it didn’t matter.  They were together, and everything else would come in its own time.

[fortheloveofpearlet]

Straightjacket Feeling - Pearlet [Chapter 2]

This is something I wrote AGES and AGES ago. First few chapters set in college but its NOT a college AU I swear! Kinda based on ‘Do I Wanna Know’ by the Artic Monkeys, lyrics throughout fic. Shorter chapter.

Chapter 2

Over the next week Jason was bombarded by texts and calls from Matt. He ignored them all. 

 Saturday

 From Handsome Matt:

10.37am

Jason I don't know what you think is going on but I wasn't messing with you I swear. I just wanted to get to know you that's all

 3.46pm

Jason please, at least meet me so we can talk? 

 11.20pm

Seriously, why would you think I would want to mess with you? Jeez anyone would think you didn't want a friend.

 Sunday

 From Handsome Matt:

1.25pm

Jason this is fucking dumb, please reply

 11.49pm

Urghhhhh yo startin to get annoyin nw...stupid doesn't wnt tlk 2me

 Clearly he was drunk. 

 It was now Friday again and the texts had started thinning out but they hadn't stopped. The last one had come ten minutes ago and all it said was 'fine, have it your way. I give up. And you say I'm an asshole.' 

 Jason turned his phone off after that. Why was Matt so determined to fuck with him? Surely there were plenty of other dumb freshman he could mess with, why couldn't he leave Jason alone? Bri was out, he'd been invited to another party with Brian and no doubt Matt was there too. Jason sighed and slid his headphones on his ears before curling up in bed. He felt like such an idiot. At least he'd figured out Matt's game before it was too late and he made a complete fool out of him. He wasn't going to let that happen. Not again. 

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

 Matt sipped his drink and scanned the room again. He didn't know why he thought Jason might be here. Jake was off hooking up already as usual and Brian and new Bri, Jason's roommate were chatting aimlessly away next to him about drag queens. Matt wasn't really listening, he kept scoping the crowd for one face in particular.

 He didn't know what it was about Jason, but there was something alright. Matt had noticed Jason on his first day on campus, and pretty much every day since. There was something so magnetic about him and that both excited and scared Matt. Because Matt had never found another man magnetic before. He'd never spent this much time thinking about another man. So why Jason? What was so special about this guy that had Matt hooked since the first day? He'd never tell anyone this but last week when Jason had 'accidentally' tripped over Matt's legs, it hadn't been such an accident. Matt had seen him coming, he'd seen a chance to finally talk to him. So, just as Jason had gotten near, clearly not looking where he was going, Matt had stretched his legs out into Jason's path and deliberately tripped the younger boy over. He still didn't know why he'd done it. He didn't like thinking too much about the why. 

 Brian left to get him and Bri another drink and Matt couldn't help himself but ask.

'Is Jason coming?' 

Bri shrugged.

'Doubt it, he hates these parties.'

'Did he say anything about the last one?' 

'Nah, we don't really talk that much.' Bri shrugged again. Just then Brian re-joined them.

'Hey there's some guys passing out a joint down the hall, wanna join?' He directed the question at both of them. Bri's face lit up.

'Well durh!' Bri chuckled. 

'Matt?' Brian asked him but to his surprise Matt shook his head.

'Nah I think I'm gonna bounce.' 

'Seriously? It's not even eleven and you haven't hooked up yet.' Brian laughed.

'Yeah I'm just tired. I'll catch you later yeah?' Matt downed his drink and patted his friend on the back. Brian frowned watching him leave but he shook it off and let him go. 

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

 Matt marched through the dorm on the other side of campus until he came to the room he was looking for. He banged on the door loudly, from what he'd seen of Jason around campus he was always wearing his headphones so he wanted to make sure he would hear him. He continued banging on the door for several long minutes until he heard a grumpy voice on the other side.

'Fuck sake Brian I am going to surgically attach your key to your hand in your goddam sleep. I'm getting sick of-' Jason stopped his rant as he opened the door to see Matt standing there. Jason immediately blushed, he was only wearing his boxers and a baggy tank top that was so old and worn it hung so low you could almost see his nipples. 'Matt what the hell?' He groaned. He'd done a really good job at avoiding him so far. He should have known the asshole wouldn't give up this easily. 'I told you Matt I do not want to be a pawn in your sick games ok? Please find someone else.'

Matt pushed passed Jason into the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

'Look just fucking listen would you?' Matt raised his voice a little. 'I am not trying to fuck with you Jason! I want to be your friend goddamn it! Why are you making this so hard?'

'Because no one ever wants to just be friends with me ok Matt? You could be friends with anyone. You're cool and funny and attractive and popular. Why me? Why me?' 

Matt's facial expression softened as he stepped a little closer to Jason.

'You think I'm attractive?' 

Jason rolled his eyes.

'Way to focus on the point.' The younger boy sighed. 

'I just don't understand why you find it so hard to believe I want to be friends with you.' Matt scratched the back of his head. Jason ran his fingers through his messy hair, trying so hard to ignore how uncomfortable and exposed he felt in what he was wearing.

'Because,' he sighed. 'It wouldn't be the first time someone had pretended to be my friend only to fuck me over.' His eyes conveyed his sadness and Matt saw it. 

'What happened?'

'Doesn't matter.' Jason turned his back on Matt.

'Jason, please.' Matt cautiously put his hand on Jason's shoulder. He felt the younger boy stiffen a little at his touch. When he turned back to look at Matt, Matt saw the tears behind his eyes.

'When I was in high school, there was this super popular guy called Boomer. He was so gorgeous but I didn't think he even knew I existed. Then one day he asks me if I want to hang out and I couldn't believe my luck. We spent loads of time together outside of school, I was actually really starting to fall for him and I thought he felt the same. He asked me to a school dance, he told me he wanted to be with me and that he wanted to make it public that night. He told me to meet him in one of the class rooms before the dance started so I did. When I got there, the class room was dark and Boomer pushes me into the wall and tells me to take my clothes my off. So I did, because I was a sucker for him, I would have done anything he asked me too. And then...then...' Jason choked a little so he paused for a second to compose himself. Matt was hanging off his every word. 'Then suddenly the lights go on and I'm stood there in my boxers and all of his friends are there laughing at me and taking pictures. It was so humiliating. I threw my clothes back on and ran from the room crying. The next day the pictures were all over school. I never lived it down, everyone called me a faggot and would say things like as if Boomer Banks would ever be interested in you. I never told my parents because I was too embarrassed so I had to stay at that school for the next two years and every day was the fucking same. So that's why I don't trust you Matt. I don't trust that anyone cool or popular would ever want to be friends with me because I know what can happen ok?' He was a little breathless when he finished his story, but thankfully he'd managed to keep his tears at bay. Matt looked shocked. He bit his lip.

'Jason, I'm sorry that's so terrible.' He frowned sadly. 'I swear to you that's not what this about though, I just wanted to be your friend.' 

'Why though? Why me?' Jason sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair. Matt liked the way it looked when he did that a little too much.

'Because I know what it's like to be lonely and to have no friends. I saw you and I felt bad for you, because I know that feeling.' 

'As if.' Jason scoffed. 'Like you know what it's like. I bet you were Mr Popularity in high school too.'

'Actually I wasn't.' Matt shook his head. 'Back in high school I wore glasses and I had acne and braces. And I was about 50lbs heavier.' 

'No way.' Jason scoffed again.

'Way.' Matt told him. 'Nobody ever gave me the time of day, I was bullied every single day of my high school life and when it was finally over I decided I couldn't do it anymore. Before I started college I went on this big health kick, started working out, I got contacts and the braces came off. I got this amazing cream for my acne and when I started college I was determined not to be that kid anymore. I forced myself to be more confident and put myself out there because I wasn't going back to my high school days. I guess when I saw you, you reminded me so much of high school me. I mean you're much better looking than I was but you were clearly shy and awkward and I figured everyone deserves a friend. I swear to you I was just trying to be nice.' Matt confessed to him, the first time he'd ever confessed that. Jason tried to ignore the fact Matt had said he was good looking, in a roundabout way he'd said it anyway and it made Jason's stomach flip. He didn't focus on than though.

'Do you have pictures?' Jason raised a challenging eyebrow at Matt who chuckled a little. He pulled his phone from his pocket.

'I swear to god if you tell anyone about this...' he opened up his photos and scrolled right to the top before finding the one he was looking for. He took a deep breath before turning the screen to face Jason. Staring back at Jason was a much heavier kid who vaguely resembled Matt. If it hadn't been for those eyes, almost hidden by milk bottle glasses, Jason wouldn't have believed it was him.

'Oh my god.' Jason gasped. 

'See I told you. Do you believe me now that all I wanted was to be your friend?'

'Hmmm maybe.' Jason raised his eyebrow again. Matt sighed.

'I'll tell you what, I'm going to send you this photo, and if I mess you around you can show anyone you like, ok?' Matt tapped a few buttons and then Jason heard his phone beep. He smiled a little.

'Ok.' 

'Great.' Matt smiled and he flopped to Jason's bed and turned his laptop screen to face him. 'What you watching?' 

'Drag Race.' Jason blushed as he sat down next to Matt.

'Cool! Hit play then.' Matt kicked his shoes off and pulled his legs up, resting his chin on his knees.

'I'm half way through a season.' 

'You'll have to catch me up then.' Matt got himself comfy leaning back on Jason's pillows. Jason bit his lip and leant next to him, pulling that laptop onto his lap still feeling self-conscious about his lack of clothing. He hit the space bar and the screen sprung to life just as Trixie Mattel was hitting the main stage.

'That's the one from your shirt right?' Matt asked.

'Yeah that's Trixie.' Another queen strutted out on the main stage. 'That's Violet, she's incredible.' 

'I can see why you like her, damn she's working it!' Matt snapped his fingers. Jason frowned to himself. Maybe Matt wasn't as straight as he made out. 'Oh wow who's that?' His eyes widened as another queen made her way out.

'That's Pearl.'

'She's hot as fuck! Holy shit that's a man?' He turned to Jason in confusion and his expression made Jason laugh.

'Yah huh, they all are, that's kind of the point of the show.'

'Well damn, if I didn't know any better I would totally hit on her.' Matt laughed, snuggling further back into the pillows. Ok, maybe he was straight after all. Jason was so confused. They watched a few more episodes together and both of them slowly started to drift off. 

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

 They were woken a few hours later when Bri practically fell through the door and onto the floor. He stood back up and saw Jason asleep with his head on Matt's chest and Matt resting his chin on Jason's head. They both looked so content. Bri thought it was sweet but he was drunk so he decided to wake them.

'Funny, this doesn't look like your dorm Matt.' He shouted loudly and the two boys woke with a start, Jason's laptop almost falling to the floor.

'What the fuck?' Jason groaned. 'What time is it?'

'Like 8am or something.' Bri shrugged already getting undressed and into bed.

'8am?' Jason groaned, how had that happened? 

'So judging by the fact you're just stumbling in, I guess you and Brian hooked up?' Matt smirked sitting up and putting his boots on. Bri grunted.

'I could ask you two the same thing.' 

'We were just watching Drag Race you ass.' Jason rolled his eyes.

'Is that what the kids are calling it these days?' Bri snickered. 'In that case me and Brian were 'watching drag race' too.' 

'Screw you.' Jason rolled his eyes again.

'I should go, Jake will probably be wondering where I am.' Matt ruffled his hair and yawned a little. 

'Yeah sure.' Jason didn't want him to go but he wasn't going to say as much. He walked Matt to the door and when he opened it, Matt pulled him into the corridor.

'Thank you for last night, we should do it again sometime.' Matt placed his hand on Jason's shoulder. Jason nodded dumbly.

'Yeah sure.' He swallowed, feeling uncomfortable by the way Matt was looking at him. 

'Please never ask me why I did this.' Matt whispered and Jason frowned.

'Did what?' 

Matt replied by pushing Jason into the wall in the corridor and kissing him. It was just a brief kiss, nothing more. And then Matt pulled away and half-smiled.

'Matt what the hell?'

Matt put his finger to Jason's lips to silence him.

'I said don't ask.' He shrugged. 'See you around uhm Jason.' He turned and headed down the corridor. Jason watched him leave. He put his fingers to his own lips and stroked them dumbly. Had that really just happened? He felt like he must have imagined it, but his lips were still tingling. He watched until Matt disappeared and even when he was gone he continued to stand there for a while. 

'See you around Matt.' He whispered before letting himself back in his room, his head hazy and his heart ablaze. 

[artificialqueens]

Straightjacket Feeling - Pearlet Chp.2 (Scarlet)

TW - brief mentions of homophobia and drug use and a little angst. Shorter chapter because it skips ahead in time after this and this seemed like the best place to end it.

Chapter 2

Over the next week Jason was bombarded by texts and calls from Matt. He ignored them all.

Saturday

From Handsome Matt:

10.37am

Jason I don’t know what you think is going on but I wasn’t messing with you I swear. I just wanted to get to know you that’s all

3.46pm

Jason please, at least meet me so we can talk?

11.20pm

Seriously, why would you think I would want to mess with you? Jeez anyone would think you didn’t want a friend.

Sunday

From Handsome Matt:

1.25pm

Jason this is fucking dumb, please reply

11.49pm

Urghhhhh yo startin to get annoyin nw…stupid doesn’t wnt tlk 2me

Clearly he was drunk.

It was now Friday again and the texts had started thinning out but they hadn’t stopped. The last one had come ten minutes ago and all it said was ‘fine, have it your way. I give up. And you say I’m an asshole.'

Jason turned his phone off after that. Why was Matt so determined to fuck with him? Surely there were plenty of other dumb freshman he could mess with, why couldn’t he leave Jason alone? Bri was out, he’d been invited to another party with Brian and no doubt Matt was there too. Jason sighed and slid his headphones on his ears before curling up in bed. He felt like such an idiot. At least he’d figured out Matt’s game before it was too late and he made a complete fool out of him. He wasn’t going to let that happen. Not again.

—————————————–

Matt sipped his drink and scanned the room again. He didn’t know why he thought Jason might be here. Jake was off hooking up already as usual and Brian and new Bri, Jason’s roommate were chatting aimlessly away next to him about drag queens. Matt wasn’t really listening, he kept scoping the crowd for one face in particular.

He didn’t know what it was about Jason, but there was something alright. Matt had noticed Jason on his first day on campus, and pretty much every day since. There was something so magnetic about him and that both excited and scared Matt. Because Matt had never found another man magnetic before. He’d never spent this much time thinking about another man. So why Jason? What was so special about this guy that had Matt hooked since the first day? He’d never tell anyone this but last week when Jason had 'accidentally’ tripped over Matt’s legs, it hadn’t been such an accident. Matt had seen him coming, he’d seen a chance to finally talk to him. So, just as Jason had gotten near, clearly not looking where he was going, Matt had stretched his legs out into Jason’s path and deliberately tripped the younger boy over. He still didn’t know why he’d done it. He didn’t like thinking too much about the why.

Brian left to get him and Bri another drink and Matt couldn’t help himself but ask.

'Is Jason coming?'

Bri shrugged.

'Doubt it, he hates these parties.’

'Did he say anything about the last one?'

'Nah, we don’t really talk that much.’ Bri shrugged again. Just then Brian re-joined them.

'Hey there’s some guys passing out a joint down the hall, wanna join?’ He directed the question at both of them. Bri’s face lit up.

'Well durh!’ Bri chuckled.

'Matt?’ Brian asked him but to his surprise Matt shook his head.

'Nah I think I’m gonna bounce.'

'Seriously? It’s not even eleven and you haven’t hooked up yet.’ Brian laughed.

'Yeah I’m just tired. I’ll catch you later yeah?’ Matt downed his drink and patted his friend on the back. Brian frowned watching him leave but he shook it off and let him go.

—————————————–

Matt marched through the dorm on the other side of campus until he came to the room he was looking for. He banged on the door loudly, from what he’d seen of Jason around campus he was always wearing his headphones so he wanted to make sure he would hear him. He continued banging on the door for several long minutes until he heard a grumpy voice on the other side.

'Fuck sake Brian I am going to surgically attach your key to your hand in your goddam sleep. I’m getting sick of-’ Jason stopped his rant as he opened the door to see Matt standing there. Jason immediately blushed, he was only wearing his boxers and a baggy tank top that was so old and worn it hung so low you could almost see his nipples. 'Matt what the hell?’ He groaned. He’d done a really good job at avoiding him so far. He should have known the asshole wouldn’t give up this easily. 'I told you Matt I do not want to be a pawn in your sick games ok? Please find someone else.’

Matt pushed passed Jason into the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

'Look just fucking listen would you?’ Matt raised his voice a little. 'I am not trying to fuck with you Jason! I want to be your friend goddamn it! Why are you making this so hard?’

'Because no one ever wants to just be friends with me ok Matt? You could be friends with anyone. You’re cool and funny and attractive and popular. Why me? Why me?'

Matt’s facial expression softened as he stepped a little closer to Jason.

'You think I’m attractive?'

Jason rolled his eyes.

'Way to focus on the point.’ The younger boy sighed.

'I just don’t understand why you find it so hard to believe I want to be friends with you.’ Matt scratched the back of his head. Jason ran his fingers through his messy hair, trying so hard to ignore how uncomfortable and exposed he felt in what he was wearing.

'Because,’ he sighed. 'It wouldn’t be the first time someone had pretended to be my friend only to fuck me over.’ His eyes conveyed his sadness and Matt saw it.

'What happened?’

'Doesn’t matter.’ Jason turned his back on Matt.

'Jason, please.’ Matt cautiously put his hand on Jason’s shoulder. He felt the younger boy stiffen a little at his touch. When he turned back to look at Matt, Matt saw the tears behind his eyes.

'When I was in high school, there was this super popular guy called Boomer. He was so gorgeous but I didn’t think he even knew I existed. Then one day he asks me if I want to hang out and I couldn’t believe my luck. We spent loads of time together outside of school, I was actually really starting to fall for him and I thought he felt the same. He asked me to a school dance, he told me he wanted to be with me and that he wanted to make it public that night. He told me to meet him in one of the class rooms before the dance started so I did. When I got there, the class room was dark and Boomer pushes me into the wall and tells me to take my clothes my off. So I did, because I was a sucker for him, I would have done anything he asked me too. And then…then…’ Jason choked a little so he paused for a second to compose himself. Matt was hanging off his every word. 'Then suddenly the lights go on and I’m stood there in my boxers and all of his friends are there laughing at me and taking pictures. It was so humiliating. I threw my clothes back on and ran from the room crying. The next day the pictures were all over school. I never lived it down, everyone called me a faggot and would say things like as if Boomer Banks would ever be interested in you. I never told my parents because I was too embarrassed so I had to stay at that school for the next two years and every day was the fucking same. So that’s why I don’t trust you Matt. I don’t trust that anyone cool or popular would ever want to be friends with me because I know what can happen ok?’ He was a little breathless when he finished his story, but thankfully he’d managed to keep his tears at bay. Matt looked shocked. He bit his lip.

'Jason, I’m sorry that’s so terrible.’ He frowned sadly. 'I swear to you that’s not what this about though, I just wanted to be your friend.'

'Why though? Why me?’ Jason sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair. Matt liked the way it looked when he did that a little too much.

'Because I know what it’s like to be lonely and to have no friends. I saw you and I felt bad for you, because I know that feeling.'

'As if.’ Jason scoffed. 'Like you know what it’s like. I bet you were Mr Popularity in high school too.’

'Actually I wasn’t.’ Matt shook his head. 'Back in high school I wore glasses and I had acne and braces. And I was about 50lbs heavier.'

'No way.’ Jason scoffed again.

'Way.’ Matt told him. 'Nobody ever gave me the time of day, I was bullied every single day of my high school life and when it was finally over I decided I couldn’t do it anymore. Before I started college I went on this big health kick, started working out, I got contacts and the braces came off. I got this amazing cream for my acne and when I started college I was determined not to be that kid anymore. I forced myself to be more confident and put myself out there because I wasn’t going back to my high school days. I guess when I saw you, you reminded me so much of high school me. I mean you’re much better looking than I was but you were clearly shy and awkward and I figured everyone deserves a friend. I swear to you I was just trying to be nice.’ Matt confessed to him, the first time he’d ever confessed that. Jason tried to ignore the fact Matt had said he was good looking, in a roundabout way he’d said it anyway and it made Jason’s stomach flip. He didn’t focus on than though.

'Do you have pictures?’ Jason raised a challenging eyebrow at Matt who chuckled a little. He pulled his phone from his pocket.

'I swear to god if you tell anyone about this…’ he opened up his photos and scrolled right to the top before finding the one he was looking for. He took a deep breath before turning the screen to face Jason. Staring back at Jason was a much heavier kid who vaguely resembled Matt. If it hadn’t been for those eyes, almost hidden by milk bottle glasses, Jason wouldn’t have believed it was him.

'Oh my god.’ Jason gasped.

'See I told you. Do you believe me now that all I wanted was to be your friend?’

'Hmmm maybe.’ Jason raised his eyebrow again. Matt sighed.

'I’ll tell you what, I’m going to send you this photo, and if I mess you around you can show anyone you like, ok?’ Matt tapped a few buttons and then Jason heard his phone beep. He smiled a little.

'Ok.'

'Great.’ Matt smiled and he flopped to Jason’s bed and turned his laptop screen to face him. 'What you watching?'

'Drag Race.’ Jason blushed as he sat down next to Matt.

'Cool! Hit play then.’ Matt kicked his shoes off and pulled his legs up, resting his chin on his knees.

'I’m half way through a season.'

'You’ll have to catch me up then.’ Matt got himself comfy leaning back on Jason’s pillows. Jason bit his lip and leant next to him, pulling that laptop onto his lap still feeling self-conscious about his lack of clothing. He hit the space bar and the screen sprung to life just as Trixie Mattel was hitting the main stage.

'That’s the one from your shirt right?’ Matt asked.

'Yeah that’s Trixie.’ Another queen strutted out on the main stage. 'That’s Violet, she’s incredible.'

'I can see why you like her, damn she’s working it!’ Matt snapped his fingers. Jason frowned to himself. Maybe Matt wasn’t as straight as he made out. 'Oh wow who’s that?’ His eyes widened as another queen made her way out.

'That’s Pearl.’

'She’s hot as fuck! Holy shit that’s a man?’ He turned to Jason in confusion and his expression made Jason laugh.

'Yah huh, they all are, that’s kind of the point of the show.’

'Well damn, if I didn’t know any better I would totally hit on her.’ Matt laughed, snuggling further back into the pillows. Ok, maybe he was straight after all. Jason was so confused. They watched a few more episodes together and both of them slowly started to drift off.

—————————————–

They were woken a few hours later when Bri practically fell through the door and onto the floor. He stood back up and saw Jason asleep with his head on Matt’s chest and Matt resting his chin on Jason’s head. They both looked so content. Bri thought it was sweet but he was drunk so he decided to wake them.

'Funny, this doesn’t look like your dorm Matt.’ He shouted loudly and the two boys woke with a start, Jason’s laptop almost falling to the floor.

'What the fuck?’ Jason groaned. 'What time is it?’

'Like 8am or something.’ Bri shrugged already getting undressed and into bed.

'8am?’ Jason groaned, how had that happened?

'So judging by the fact you’re just stumbling in, I guess you and Brian hooked up?’ Matt smirked sitting up and putting his boots on. Bri grunted.

'I could ask you two the same thing.'

'We were just watching Drag Race you ass.’ Jason rolled his eyes.

'Is that what the kids are calling it these days?’ Bri snickered. 'In that case me and Brian were 'watching drag race’ too.'

'Screw you.’ Jason rolled his eyes again.

'I should go, Jake will probably be wondering where I am.’ Matt ruffled his hair and yawned a little.

'Yeah sure.’ Jason didn’t want him to go but he wasn’t going to say as much. He walked Matt to the door and when he opened it, Matt pulled him into the corridor.

'Thank you for last night, we should do it again sometime.’ Matt placed his hand on Jason’s shoulder. Jason nodded dumbly.

'Yeah sure.’ He swallowed, feeling uncomfortable by the way Matt was looking at him.

'Please never ask me why I did this.’ Matt whispered and Jason frowned.

'Did what?'

Matt replied by pushing Jason into the wall in the corridor and kissing him. It was just a brief kiss, nothing more. And then Matt pulled away and half-smiled.

'Matt what the hell?’

Matt put his finger to Jason’s lips to silence him.

'I said don’t ask.’ He shrugged. 'See you around uhm Jason.’ He turned and headed down the corridor. Jason watched him leave. He put his fingers to his own lips and stroked them dumbly. Had that really just happened? He felt like he must have imagined it, but his lips were still tingling. He watched until Matt disappeared and even when he was gone he continued to stand there for a while.

'See you around Matt.’ He whispered before letting himself back in his room, his head hazy and his heart ablaze.

[captainswanfairytale]

6x21-22 The Final Battle

Well, there were a lot of throwbacks, and a lot of feels, and a surprise ending we all pretty much knew was coming right?

Previously on...is showing clips from the first season, and I'm already emotional.

Fiona made it so that everything wasn't real, all it did was land Emma in the nuthouse for believing in him.

Also Fiona is the mayor and Henry's "mother" in this reality, ohh shit.

"She took you from your wedding to theirs."

Hook waking up with Snowing and Baby Charming and Regina in the EF, in THEIR CASTLE. That just gave me some feels ngl, I always dreamed we'd have them all together there, but of course Emma and Henry are missing.

Fiona suggesting that Emma go back to Boston when she's released, if that day comes, if she burns the book to prove to Henry that she doesn't believe.

They were all able to see Fiona and Emma through the mirror back in the EF. AHHH OMG! THEY'RE SO WORRIED ABOUT HER!

AND ZELENA SHOWS UP! WITH THE MUNCHINS! AND THE MAD HATTERS HAT! WHAT OMG THEY BROUGHT THAT BACK YES THANK YOU!

They use the hat to go into the room with the doors to realms, and Oz is nothing but blackness, and the others are fading, the realms are being destoryed, that's the Black Fairy's plan. OHH SNAP!

All the refugees from the realms in the room. Regina mentions seeing someone from Arendelle, and then Jasmine and Aladdin are there. Hook thinks he knows where to find something to help but Regina wants to do things her way, so of course he sneaks off.

Henry breaking out Emma. OPERATION CUCKOO'S NEST. AHAHAHAHA OMG!

Killian was talking about the beanstalk! He wants to go up the beanstalk again..."Bloody hell, it's taller than I rememebered." Charming followed him and is trying to tell him not to risk making Emma a widow. And Killian tells him he's climbed it before, that it was his and Emma's first adventure. THAT THEY FOUGHT FOR THEIR LOVE AND HE'S NOT GONNA LET IT END THERE. Charming seeing how upset he was and is going with him up the beanstalk, YES I'M CRYING!

Henry trying to get her to remember by taking her to the rooftop, and she does a lil, but then he agrees to help her try and leave...hmmm.

Henry stealing the Storybook from Fiona, and she knows he knows this place is not real.

Fiona just magically pushed Henry down a flight of stairs. WHATTTTTTTTT. ARE YOU EVEN ALLOWED TO DO THAT TO A KID ON TV OMG. I mean I know he doesn't look that little anymore, but still!!!

Fiona faking being upset over Henry's accident to Rumple, haha okay.

Jack and the Beanstalk was always one of my fave fairytales, now we have Charming and Killian very tiny in a very oversized room. Killian saying he should be the one to swing up onto the table, and when Charming aggrees, he's suprised that he's trusting a pirate, Charming says no, his "Son..." and when Killian gives him the eyebrow, the adds, "in law." LOL OMG, AND YESSS, CRIESSSSSSSS, BEST BRO-SON-IN-LAW-OTP EVER. BUT KILLIAN GOT THE BEAN OMG! AND NOW THEY'RE RUNNING FROM A DRAGON!

Emma put the book into the incinorator, just as Charming and Killian are coming down the beanstalk, the darkness is overtaking the EF. As it's buring the book pages are turning and Emma sees the one of Killian, that got her attention, but it's still burning!!!

Charming catching Killian when he was falling, and then he falls anyway!!! And the beanstalk falls with Charming still it, and on top of Killian, who says to Snow..."Hello there, Mummy." Her face, OMG! "There was a wedding." Is Snow's explanation when Jasmine looks confused. David's not there and they need to look for him but Snow tells Killian to take the bean and get to Henry and Emma, YESSSSSSSSS.

EMMA'S BACK AT HER NEW YORK APARTMENT! Which apparently is still hers after 2 years away, lol. Always did love the the script writing on her door.

Emma already gets a call about a bail jumper. And Henry made her a storybook drawn on his own.

Killian taking the bean to Regina, who's upset that she left Snow behind..."She'll find David, she always does." HAHA YES!

Snow found Charming and he wasn't moving or breathing so of course she's gotta kiss him in that state, and of course he wakes up! While the play clips of their first waking up from the curse kiss, awe man these two.

"Snow we're gonna be fine, darkness never wins, it just fools you into thinking it does." AWE

Henry barging into Rumple's shop..."I'm not a customer, I'm your grandson." And Gold as being awake to the curse, again.

Henry asking Gold to help him save his family...OUR FAMILY. YESSSSSS.

Henry wanted Charmings sword, to go against the Dark Fairy himself, Regina was watching and Killian says he's a tough lad, but they need to get further from the curse so they can use the bean and get to Henry and Emma...So Evil Queen is holding them back, nice self sacrifice and atonement moment.

Baby Charming crying as the curse is circling around them all, (what did they do to make that baby cry omg), they are all huddling omg, shit shit shit.

Emma came back, cuz she wants to be the woman that Henry wrote about in his book, EMMA SAYING SHE BELIEVES MADE THE CURSE STOP JUST AS IT WAS GETTING TO THEM IN THE CENTER OF THE CASTLE! AND THEY KNOW THAT MEANS EMMA IS BACK AND BELIEVES! YESSSSS!

Fiona made Belle agoraphobic, SERIOUSLY! SHE DEFINITELY DESERVES BETTER!

Fiona tempting Gold with bringing back Baelfire from the dead, yeah they're trying to fit everything into these last 2 episodes, making sure they don't miss a throwback. Bet they won't mention Graham or Ruby.

Fiona has control of Gideon, and told him to kill Emma, WHOMP, Rumple actually killed Fiona though, damn. Now he's killed both his parents.

BUT NOW EVERYONE REMEMBERS, INCLUDING EMMA! Just in time for Gideon to show up all menacing like to challenge her.

Rumbelle is down in the caves looking for Gideons heart to stop him. She twists her ankle and Rumple has to leave her behind, wtf.

When did Emma stop to put her beanie on when they went outside? Lol. They meet up with everyone in the street, Emma hugs and kisses all over Killian's face.

Regina chooses now to reminisce about the past and how they hated eachother when she first got their and how Emma found a way to make it work, where they were both Henry's mother. And how her Evil Queen saved them all today, having hope that they'll find another way out of this final battle, one where Emma doesn't die.

Rumple is the devil on Gold's shoulder when he finds the heart and needs to make the right choice to save them all. Rumple tries to tell Gideon's heart not to kill Emma, but it didn't work.

"Nobody needs to save me, I'm the savior." Emma giving a big damn speech while being a big damn badass hero. And laying down her sword to die for them all, WHAT NOW!

GIDEON STABS HER AND SHE'S LITERALLY BURSTING OUT LIGHT! WTF!

Henry kneels down and tells Emma he loves her and kisses her on the forehead, so of course it's TLK and he's okay now.

Rumbelle is hugging and all of a sudden Baby!Gideon is back, with Belle's book. THEY GET A REDO! WHATTTTTTT!

Them all standing around the end of the book like...WHAT NOW. And of course Snow is the optimistic one like, we get our happiness, together.

All the realms being restored...Arendelle, Neverland, Wonderland, Agrabah, The Enchanted Forest.

Nice.

The Charmings. Rainboots by the door. They live on a farm. They have a dog.

Emma and Regina walking Henry to school. SUCH EMBARRASSING MOMS. LOL.

Snow teaching, with the bluebird again.

Emma and Killian in the bug, with his Deputy badge on, and them driving off with the siren going.

The Dwarfs fixing Regina's door, instead of "Mayor" it says "Queen.". And Evil Queen got an arrow with a note from Robin.

Rumbelle gets a beauty and the beast dance.

Everybody at Granny's celebrating, including Rumbelle.

Them all sitting at a long made table like THE LAST SUPPER!

And the little girl that was guarding the book in the forest is now on a train bring a new Once Upon a Time storybook to someone else's door...her fathers...a grown HENRY MILLS! Who doesn't remember having a daughter, who looks alot like Violet btw.

SHE SAYS HIS FAMILY NEEDS HIM! AWE MAN! HERE WE GO AGAIN!

[lovecomesin]

Different Mindset, same dude

So like always i surprise myself with my ability to mentally sort stuff out and come to a new mindset. remember when i was obsessing over jordan absence and i didnt want to break up with him because i wanted to be with him? well, that is gone lol. and i first have to give thanks to mr or mrs time because that play a big role in this chnage but then my mental also came all the way through in the clutch with this thought process. i also have to thank jordan for beng himself and showing me the real him. lets start with time, at first i couldnt stop checking jordan page and calling him and texting him and then after he deleted that picture that i wanted to just make sure he was okay something told me to just stop trying. i couldnt keep trying. he clearly was not wanting to talk to me or at least ease my mind by telling me what was up so why should i keep trying? i’ll be honest that shit was mad disrespctful and i never got an explanation or apology on why he did that but i digress. next my mental capacity. i’ve always known that when i have a crush on someone it is as if someone but him under this beam of light where he cannot be touched, or judged just admired only. i see no wrong in there actions at that moment because i am blinded by the lights and smoking mirrors. in my defence jordan was really good in the beginning he just got shitty at the very end and i didnt want to let go of the hope of the beginning especially since it was a new relationship. it wouldve seemed ignorant to have just got together only 2 months agao, been amazing and then 1 week ish gets crazy and i break up for good. but as time passed by i started to see and thnk of the situation much more differently than my original thoughts. jordan came back and he was saying all the right stuff about it just being me and him, he wants to spend all this time with me and highly sexual situations that i honestly was willing to acccept but then he started on the monetary aspect of things. when jordan was coming back he told me he was going to get his job transferred to ga and i havent hear him mention anything about working sed job. i remember mentioning work and he plainly said he didnt want to work. I cannot take care of a grown man. i will not take care of a grown man. i like jordan hes sexy, fun, funny and he turns me on in a way im not used to but all of that means nothing to moment he opens his mouth to tell me he gone need me to help him with xyz. dont get me wrong i dont date dudes for there money but i also am not used to being with someone who doesnt slightly have somethng of there own. jordan hasnt even given me a reason to look out for him. he has never came to see me, we only text, he tried to call and ft me but that was at late night hours when he knew i would be sleeping and it was only so he could talk nasty to me. jordan is always asking me for something and this seems like thats mainly what he is intrested in and i refuse to me used or openly waste my time. not again! reggie and ryan were enough. what helped was when jordan called me and asked me to drive to missippi to get him and his friend. he orginally presented it as if, if i didnt come get him that means i dont really rock with him. that pissed me off mainly because i have done soo much for him already that it lowkey pissed me off that he felt as though that would be the defining moment. i was unemployed and drove 30 mins everyday to see this man, i got hi food, cigarettes, liquor and i never once complained. once jordan seen i wasnt moved by what i considered a verbal threat he then ried manipulation. he then told me that this could be a baecation, he wants me to meet his mom and he can get drunk and i can finally see where hes from. while that sounded nice i couldnt get over his orginal thoughts and thats what solidified this for me. jordan may actually want a girl who will hold him down and stuff and i thought that girl could be me but i cant be that girl unless hes showing me he’ the type of guy to hold down. he only makes me happy when we are together. when we are apart it seems as if we are nothing but distant pals. my choice on what to do: i have decided that i dont want a relationship with jordan anymore. i dont care if he calls me back or texts me first or anything for that matter. he merely wants to for financial support and i am not here for that. i wanted a relationship where we both couldve grown from it but clearly he i not ready. i will get what i want from jordan in the event that i still want those things if and when he comes back to atl. i cannot provide any financial suport to jordan nor will i come to him. when he comes back i may link with him so i can have sex and then thats it. jordan was once soo attractive to me in all things but now i cannot finance a guy wi no will power to work. thats ridiculous. hes much to young to only want to focus on rapping only. in the event that he makes it i can fund solace in the fct that i tried and he wa too much. i feel like he doesnt really car about me he truly only wants mt money and pussy. he even told me: you good for it you got a job when he asked me for something that id didnt want to give him, its almost insane how i didnt see this but he wasnt thi person orginally and i still liked him very much. jordan is the only person that can chnage this. he has to show me that he wants me for love, affection, union instead of money and pussy. this person he is showing me is not attractive to me ai want no parts of him. im making it my business to not reach out to him anymore, i’ll be honest he almost had me again but he tlks too much and that is what solidifed it for me. as of now i am single and i will not willingly be used or allow myself to be in another situationship. jordan can fend for himself and if he gets right then we can talk if not i’ll get what i want and leave him the moment i get it. if i want sex i’ll go have sex and leave right after. i cant take you to get beer or cigarette or anything. idk if he purposely was trying to use me or if he just thought he scored a girl who has money but i work too hard to go back. and i wont. until next time lters baby. 

[hecohansen31]

Hello love, I’d like to request the prompts 130 and 136 with our favorite baby monk 😊 Thank you and I hope you enjoy writing!!

WARNINGS: Mention of Cheating Mention of Trust Issues, Mention of Drunk! Osferth, Modern AU, Mention of Harrasment.

Osferth certainly had known that drinking that much wouldn’t have been a good thing the following morning.

But at the same time, what could he do when Sithric continued on passing him various sugary beverages that were so light that he hadn’t thought he could end up drunk by simply dunking a few…

… that had turned out to be more than a few.

And he had a vague memory of Uthred holding his hair back, meanwhile he puked his entire intestines on the ground next to the club, where they had spent their ‘boys-night-out’.

Which explained the horrible taste in his mouth.

It took him fifteen minutes to even take the decision to get out bed, as his entire body ached of an hollow pain and his head seemed to have banged against the headboard of the bed, and he wasn’t sure he could swear that thought off, seeing how much his brain hurt.

When he managed to raise himself in a seated position, he was finally able to move slightly as he slumped over to the bathroom to wash his teeth and dampen his skin with a wet towel, as he realized that you weren’t neither in bed next to him or in the bathroom.

He had been too taken by the pain to notice your absence.

Then he heard a few lovely mumbles coming from the kitchen, he realized that you must have woken up to cook yourself something, since it was late enough for you two to have a small brunch.

Although his stomach would have pushed back anything he shoved in, he was eager to see you again.

He had left you early last night, to go out with the other boys, since they had been all excited for Uthred’s latest promotion (even more when he had promised to buy as many drinks as they wanted).

He didn’t like this kind of nights, but the others had insisted enough that he hadn’t had the heart to refuse and you had actually encouraged him, always appealing to his ‘wildest side’.

He got himself some new clean clothes, and moved in the kitchen, hoping that you’d be finished with food so that you could focus your whole attention on him, taking care of him as you always did when he felt at his worst.

But as soon as he had entered the kitchen you didn’t even raise your head from your small cookbook, as you slowly pondered which spices to use in the dish you were getting ready, and although it was unusual, he didn’t try to distract you, whereas his whole body ached to push itself around you and kiss your slender neck, showed by your hair left in a messy updo.

You were wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt that fell a bit too large on you and was clearly ruined enough that its collar was large and fell on your shoulder, leaving it, shockingly naked.

“… it smells absolutely amazingly” he tried to comment softly, mostly because he was starting to think that you were ignoring him on purpose “… is it new?”.

“Yes” your answer was straight and although your mutter was short it held a discreet amount of anger that made Osferth think that you were absolutely pissed with him.

Maybe you hadn’t been all too happy that he had come back home completely drunk, because it was something that had never happened

And maybe he had acted a bit foolishly…

… so, he couldn’t blame your uneasiness.

“… it smells amazing” Gosh, shit… he had already said it “… I mean… I can’t wait to eat it, although…”.

His stomach answered it for him, and you didn’t even turn around again keeping your eyes focused on the cookbook, something that confirmed him that you were indeed pissed with him.

And what was worst was that he couldn’t understand why.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” your reply wasn’t definitely a question, since not only it seemed like you already knew the answer but also… you weren’t happy with it either.

“… yes” he knew it was better not to lie to an angry woman “… but I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, I honestly feel bad if you took offense to my foolish behavior…”.

“Good, I hope you feel bad”.

This completely froze Osferth in his spot, but at least it got you to turn around, showing him an even more worrying sight, since your eyes were red and swollen, a sign that you had been crying.

“… sweetheart…” he mumbled softly, as he got up, trying to approach you, but you quickly pushed your hands crossed under your chest to shoo him off, clearly in a non-confrontational stance “… what… did I do something wrong?”.

“Oh, as if you don’t know…” you commented tightly “… the fact that you don’t see where you went wrong is honestly even a bigger problem”.

Osferth honestly feel like crying, not solely for the fact that you were angry at him, but also because he knew, feeling it from your lovely voice trembling as it tried to keep your rage strong, that he had made you sad.

Something he had swore never to do.

“… I drank too much, last night” he was embarrassed to admit it “… and I swear it is true that I can’t remember anything, so I swear that whatever you are angry for, I didn’t mean it, but I apologize if it hurt you”.

You trembled lightly, closing your eyes to hold tears back, and Osferth honestly wanted to hug you tight and comfort you, but he knew that if he tried anything like that, it would have simply broken you further.

And he didn’t want to make you sadder.

“… watch your phone” you simply told him, a harsh tone mixed with bitterness in your voice “… Aethelwold’s stories on his Instagram”.

He did it, quickly moving to collect his phone, which he had thrown on the table, last night, probably because it was annoying him with the constant notifications that were making its screen light up.

It was sticky, probably because a few alcoholic shots had ended up on it, but he rushed through the various apps finding Instagram and then the assholish Aethelwold’s stories, Alfred’s nephew (which was the sole reason why Uthred had invited him last night).

At first there were some idiotic selfies of Aethelwold shitfaced, a few with an annoyed Finan and an expressionless Sithric, but then he found one with him… and Eadith.

He had met Eadith at work, during one of the group projects with the Mercia corporation: she had been nice and she was quite witty which was honestly nice to see and hear, but he loved you above any girl in the whole world.

You were his soulmate.

The Instagram stories reminded him that she had come over to them last night, and she had drunk with them a bit, mostly enjoying the protectiveness the band of guys could give her, even more when she had explained to Osferth that a creeper had been following her the whole night.

And then the creeper, an asshole with a dirty exterior,  had come close, probably trying to either drag away Eadith or annoy her a bit more, gaining a roll of eyes from the girl in question, although she was evidently at unease and a bit scared.

Osferth’s drunk brain had then thought about a quick plan, planting a small kiss on Eadith’s lips, something that had mattered so little that he remembered it only when he saw it happening on the video in Aethelwold’s stories.

The creeper had backed up, and Eadith had thanked him profusely, before Finan asked her whether she wanted him to accompany her back home, something for which she had accepted happily, meanwhile Osferth had gotten even more shitfaced with Sithric.

But to anybody who hadn’t been there, none of this story would have sounded true.

And he could understand how you had felt seeing it.

You hadn’t ever been a jealous girl, but that event would have shocked anybody else, had they witnessed that happening, and although Osferth had done it for a good cause, with no interest in Eadith, he had to admit that you couldn’t know it.

And you had assumed the worst.

“… I…” he tried to speak, as he finally raised his eyes from the scene on the phone, seeing that you hadn’t been able to hold back your tears anymore, hastily washing them away “… I swear it isn’t what it looks like”.

“I don’t care” you bit your lips “… but let me tell you something… if you didn’t feel anything for me anymore, I’d have preferred you told me”.

Your voice broke apart completely although your words were calm, as if you had been replaying them over and over in your mouth, something that made him painfully aware of the fact that you had spent an entire night overthinking this all.

“… I don’t like Eadith, she is solely a friend” he tried to let you know, hoping that his eyes would share the sincerity of his intention.

“It didn’t seem so” your voice didn’t allow any reply “… I’ll leave the house by Monday’s morning, I’ll go to Hild’s, don’t worry for me, I won’t be…”.

“What?” now he just felt like everything was slowly breaking apart “… no you can’t leave!”.

“I prefer not to overstay where I am not welcomed” you simply said, your voice lowering infinitely “… I wish you a nice life, Osferth”.

And then anything be damned, Osferth blocked you, hugging you tight to his chest, and although you protested at first trying to scratch him and then pushing him away, but Osferth just held you tighter, as he shed his own amount of tears.

“Please, please, don’t leave me” he pleaded, as he felt you going completely still in his arms “… I swear that I don’t feel an ounce of the feelings for her that I feel for you”.

“… Osferth… I don’t need your pity” you retorted, but it was softer.

“… no, you don’t understand” and then softly he went to his knees, hugging softly your belly “… I fucking love more than anything in this world, (Y/N) (L/N). And I am sorry… I broke your trust last night, I swear… I swear it wasn’t intended”.

“Osferth” it was a frail protest and he felt your arms gently hugging him.

“… please, pretty please, just…” he raised up his beautiful eyes to meet yours “… just give me another chance”.

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