#I should name it CULPEPPER

[annastrxng]

one of my gardening buddies

Lord knows, I'm in absolute LOVE.

#this mun is such a softie she calls all the yard bunnies her babies XDDD #I should name it CULPEPPER #then again it might not appreciate such a squirrely name

[simshousewindsor]

LONELINESS

[Buckingsim Palace, Buckingsimshire 1:37 PM WST]

Alfred Culpepper [Estate Manager]: Welcome back, Your Majesty.

Queen Katherine: Thank you, Alfred.

Alfred [E.M.]: Lunch will be ready in twenty minutes.

Alfred [E.M.]: How was church?

Queen Katherine: Soul-stirring!

Alfred [E.M.]: Welcome back, Your Royal Highnesses.

Prince Phillip: Alfred? What do you want to be when you grow up?

Alfred [E.M.]: That's a good question, sir! How's about I think about it and let you know at lunch?

Queen Katherine: Go and get washed up, children.

Queen Katherine: Alfred, do any of the palace staff have children?

Alfred [E.M.]: Why do you ask, ma'am?

Alfred [E.M.]: Is everything okay? Did something happen?

Queen Katherine: No, none of that. Phillip seems so lonely here. When Lara and I were children, our cousins were always here playing with us, along with children of the staff. The palace was fun as a child. Phillip and Grace don't have cousins close by anymore. After the fire at Royal Lodge, Anna and Marsh moved back to East Sussex with Sadira and Martin.

Alfred [E.M.]: I understand, ma'am.

Queen Katherine: As heir, Phillip should enjoy the palace as I did as a child.

Alfred [E.M.]: A few of the staff have children but there is only one who has a child that is close in age to the young Prince.

Queen Katherine: Oh?

Alfred [E.M.]: It could be rather tricky. It's one of the palace housekeepers, Monica.

Queen Katherine: I know Monica! She has a son?

Alfred [E.M.]: Yes. He's 8. The Queen Mother was fond of him.

Queen Katherine: What happened?

Alfred [E.M.]: That's the tricky part. The boys father is a butler at Beaverdam. Carlton, Your Majesty.

Queen Katherine: What? At Beaverdam? That's over 300 miles away!

Alfred [E.M.]: They have joint custody, and have been splitting up their son's life for the past two years between Windenburg and Brindleton Bay.

Queen Katherine: That's unacceptable. I'd like to meet them!

Alfred [E.M.]: Who, Your Majesty?

Queen Katherine: Monica, Carlton and their son. What's his name?

Alfred [E.M.]: Kevin, ma'am. I have not seen him lately which means he may be with his father at Beaverdam.

Queen Katherine: Where is Monica?

Alfred [E.M.]: I will find her, ma'am.

Queen Katherine: Thank you, Alfred.

- - - - - LATER - - - - -

[Buckingsim Palace, Buckingsimshire 4:25 PM WST]

Alfred [E.M.]: Monica Sanders, Your Majesty.

Monica Sanders: (curtsy) Your Majesty.

Queen Katherine: Monica. Please, come in.

Queen Katherine: I'm sure you're busy so I won't keep you long.

Monica: I was quite surprised when Alfred said you wanted to see me, ma'am. This feels a bit like I'm being called to the principles offices.

Queen Katherine: I can assure you, it's nothing negative.

Monica: How may I help you, Your Majesty?

Queen Katherine: Please, have a seat.

Queen Katherine: ...so, when Alfred mentioned you also had a son of similar age who was also a frequent guest of the palace, I wondered if you'd be open to them having a playdate?

Monica: I don't know what to say.

Queen Katherine: I'm sure this is beyond random.

Monica: (excited) Kevin and I would be honored! He is a little shy, and has found it quite challenging to maintain friends the last few years. I told him it won't always be like this.

Queen Katherine: Yes! They will be teenagers in a few short years.

Monica: The teen years!

Queen Katherine: Is Kevin's father happy at Beaverdam?

Monica: Of course, Your Majesty! We both are!

Queen Katherine: No, I'm sorry. I meant, would he be happier working here? Children aren't the only ones who suffer from loneliness. I'd like to transfer him here, if it's something you both would like.

Monica: (shocked) Your Majesty! That... that would be amazing!

Previous | Beginning | Next

#simshousewindsor #simshousewindsor ts4 #ts4 #sims 4 simblr #simshousewindsor monarchy #simshousewindsor story #simshousewindsor simblr #simshousewindsor time skip coming #sims 4 story #ts4 royalty #ts4 simblr #sims 4 royal family #sims 4 monarchy #simshousewindsor the dare #the sims 4 #simblr #simshousewindsor royalty #the sims 4 royalty #ts4 story #the sims 4 story #Closing Part 2 #Teen Years Are Coming #Part 3

[walker-extended-universe]

This Is Probably A Bad Idea But.....- Texas Ranger Cordell Walker can't seem to crack this case. He gets some unwanted assistance in the form of the eccentric Malcolm Bright (2/?) Last Updated 01/30/21

Impala67 Sent You A Message- Micki is under a lot of stress. This is nothing new but she's not ready to throw in the towel and accept the heart attack at 42 just yet so she's trying something new. (1/?) Last Updated 03/28/21

New Boy- Cordell Walker meets a man named Dean Winchester at a bar. Before the night is over, his life has changed forever. But will it be for better, or worse? (2/7) Last Updated 04/20/21

Don't Cry- One day they would understand. At the very least, they might find it in their hearts to forgive. (1/?) Last Updated 07/10/21

Family Matters- He froze at the end of the entryway. It was her. It had been fifteen years since he last saw her, but he'd recognize her anywhere. He never thought he'd see her again. But there she was, standing on his front porch. Smiling at him like she hadn't abandoned him and their kids all those years ago. "…Emily?" (1/?) Last Updated 07/29/21

A Killer By Any Other Name- Cordell Walker is accused of twelve counts of first degree murder due to some damning evidence. Problem is, he didn't do it. Liam is determined to prove this so he calls on an old friend, Malcolm Bright, for some help. Meanwhile, Sam Winchester hears of the case and it doesn't take him long to figure out Waker has been pinned for one of their hunts. He can't sit by and watch an innocent man go to jail so he resolves to help in any way he can. (1/?) Last Updated 09/05/21

Bonds Broken- August running away because he’s fucking tired of this family (2/?) Last Updated 10/04/21

Secrets and Lies- It's amazing what a little lack of self-control can lead too…. (2/3) Last Updated 10/05/21

"Duke" is a Dog's Name- The reader's family ranch has entered some tough times and she enters the rodeo in the hopes of earning some extra funds to keep things going. While she's there, she meets an interesting character who calls himself Duke Culpepper. Little does she know that nothing will ever be the same after she meets the tall man with cheap aftershave. (3/?) Last Updated 10/09/21

The Long Road Home- Cordell Walker, Texas Ranger, was undercover for 11 months. He went dark for several of them. When he finally came back online, he wasn't the same man he was when he left. What happened and how will he recover? An alternate universe exploration of Walker coming home. (4/?) Last Updated 10/16/21

#my writing #poll #help me

[hissanm]

R&B is dead and that is true....... For the mainstream that is.

Growing up as a child I was exposed and spoiled by singers who were trained by tough church choir directors,  pushed by their family members to supersede the one's who never made it. While constantly motivated to prove that their the best in their city or the whoever the media popularized at the time. Love is missing in this particular genre theres no doubt about that. Seems as if the singers want to be rapper's and the rappers want to be singers. Some rappers decided to sing on the hooks of their songs to save the cost from hiring a talented singer. Some sound borderline mediocre but hey, it works for them. R&B is on a decline, Similar to rap loosing its originality seems as if every artist took on the name "lil", with several face tattoos,  locks, and carefree persona to the masses in my mind lil Wayne birthed a decades worth of followers who rock his style like a white man wore blackface in the 1920's. Imitation is the best form of flattery but its gotten ridiculous. Artists of this new Rhythm and Blues now come with vibes but lack the voices.

There's a lot of great voices in the mainstream that can make a person soul jump out such asJasmine Sullivan, Lalah Hathaway, Jennifer Hudson or Fantasia then there's the divas who capture your attention such as Beyonce.

Moses Sumney, Karina Pasian, Adi Oasis, Jordan Rakei, James Vickery, Cleo Sol, Kaye Fox, Bilal, Joel Culpepper,  JGrrey, BJ the Chicago kid,  Pip Millett, SIPHO, Rachelle Ferrell, Jayla Darden, Nicole Bus, Ego ella may,  Jade Novah, Eliza, James Bambu, kiandra Richardson, R. LUM.R, Tay Walker and Lucky Daye are the voices we should be hearing right now on the radio and seen on the awards shows not the singers who cant sing a complete sentence or loved because they resemble a Ford model. We deserve better.

#My thoughts #Hissanm

[racingtoaredlight]

RTARL PREVIEWS THE UPCOMING FOOTBALL SEASON

That’s right, it’s the first day of the 2024 UFL season!

So the USFL has died again by combining with… was it called the XFL? The one The Rock owned. Anyway, those two leagues had a baby and now they’re the UFL.

So they took the nostalgia angle from two leagues that people could remember, merged, and now they’re named for a league most people forgot before it started. But I never forgot! Watching post-NFL Daunte Culpepper battle post-NFL Jeff Garcia in a sparsely attended high school stadium was actually orders of magnitude more entertaining than any spring league since.

WHAT TO WATCH FOR IN THE NEW UFL:

nothing - there is no reason you should feel compelled to watch any of this

#football #saturday post #Ufl #spring football

[cardboard-aliens]

I REALLY hope they don’t remake Bioshock 1 since the remastered version is as good as it’s going to get (in my eyes at least), but if they did remake it whats something you’d like to see changed?

ME NEITHER- They're not just gonna repackage the game and update the graphics and mechanics, if they're gonna remake it, it'll end up being a whole new game in a BioShock skin.

There are small tweaks to the base game I wouldn't mind tho: - bring back the ethnic little sisters cowards

- less serious note but let me carry the girls to the vents 2K!!!!

- All named characters getting their own unique models (yeah like Tenenbaum and Atlas- BUT ALSO Jasmine and Diane, if they've got a name they should have their own model. I think it would be really good if characters like the Lutz family and Anya Andersdotter had their own models so we could follow minor characters better)

- a REAL neutral ending (harvest pre-reveal, rescue post-reveal) so when Tenenbaum beckons Bad End!Jack to change he can.

- also if you harvest there are less sisters in the sanctuary- and if you go full bad end the sisters don't show up to finish Fontaine and Jack would take care of it on his own.

- Model Jack some legs and feet- so i can see his fancy shoes

- Add in some extra accuvoxs: give us more Jasmine and Anna Culpepper logs they are GREAT and Jasmine is so important she deserves to have more than one log and a ghost. Also I'd like some more logs post reveal from Tenenbaum and Fontaine's perspective on working on Project WYK instead of just Suchong's- I REALLY want to hear some of Tenenabaum's thoughts and eventual guilt over Jack.

- TBH if we lived in a timeline where we got Anna Culpepper running the fort frolic level instead of Cohen I would not complain

- make the game PLAYABLE so it doesn't CRASH EVERYTIME I TRY TO SAV-

- I actually don't hate the final boss fight and it has a lot of good narrative meaning for the story and character arcs- but the fight 100% need to be balanced and reworked to make it more challenge, along with some better pacing in Point Prometheus to build up to seeing Fontaine all big and blue

- Redo the pacing on the ending scene, the stuff there is 10/10 but you can blink and miss it.

- Maybe lay down a nod on why Sisters got left behind for BS2 (This is the only thing that trips me up about BS2- I can't picture Tenenbaum leaving Rapture for 8 years if there was a chance there were still girls left, ESP if its Good End and she knows she has a place she could send girls too on the surface- and I think Jack would be more than willing to stick around in the city to pick up any children that got missed [personal HC is that when Lamb took over Persephone her and her followers also abducted some little sisters in the chaos of the riots and then locked down the prison- so they'd have their own stable source of ADAM while being safely disconnected from the city, and then those girls grow up into the big sisters- and that's why Tenenbaum leaves, because she thinks they got all the girls and the one's lamb took are dead after all this time])

- Never acknowledge BaS, don't even touch that stuff with a 10 yard pole unless its to subtly retcon it with Atlas being like "we were only ever cooped up in Apollo Square- What department store"

- tweaking Tenenbaum's character so the holocaust survivor isn't also a Nazi Scientist- I'd have her pick up science after the fact as a way to cope with what she saw in the camps.

Thats most of the stuff I can think of atm- i wouldn't mind them adding variety to the skin tones of the cast though I can already hear people complaining about 'forcing politics into my video games'- same with LGBT characters to balance out Cohen.

REALLY tho I'd want to keep most of the story beats and characters the same because thats what creates the narrative i enjoy from this game.

#bioshock #bioshock 4 #jack wynand #jack ryan #jack bioshock #brigid tenenbaum #bioshock little sister #jasmine jolene #anna culpepper #cardboard cutouts #long post #i gotta GO TO CLASS NOW BYEEEEE

[anne-the-quene]

🔥Eustace Chapuys, Thomas Cromwell, Thomas Culpepper, Kathryn Howard, lady Rochford

Eustace Chapuys: Um I don’t think that everything he said should be taken as gospel, but I also don’t think he should be dismissed completely. I feel like people always go way too far on one side or the other.

Thomas Cromwell: Well, I already talked about how I think he’s more responsible for Anne’s downfall than Henry. Otherwise…I don’t know, I think since Wolf Hall people have been looking at Cromwell with a lot more sympathy than I think he really deserves.

Thomas Culpepper: What unpopular opinion could I possibly have about him?

Katheryn Howard: I wish people would show her as a Queen more. Yes, she’s often portrayed as Henry’s wife, but not really as a Queen. She took her role as Queen a lot more seriously than I think a lot of people realize.

Lady Rochford: First of all…she doesn’t even get to be called by her actual name? She’s just her title? Anyway, for the love of god people need to stop villainizing her. Honestly I can’t take it anymore.

#ask meme #unpopular opinion #eustace chapuys #thomas cromwell #thomas culpepper #katheryn howard #katherine howard #catherine howard #jane parker #jane boleyn #jane rochford #anonymous #ask

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Three Strikes Job

leverage 2.14

tara finishing nate’s drink so she wouldn’t have to deal with his bullshit and get him upstairs asap? iconic

- - - - -

Parker: So, is he gonna be okay?

Nate: Uh, they don't know.

Tara: Okay, this guy's a cop. You're thieves.

Nate: I'm not a thief! Bonnano is the cop that we tip off when we need to put the cuffs on a mark

we about to see nate turn a 180 in the next episode

- - - - -

Hardison: That's public corruption. There's practically no files on that thing.

Nate: That's it.

Hardison: No, no, these other two files -- they -- they involve violent criminals. This one -- this - it's government corruption.

Nate: No, no, no, no, no. No, no, no. That's it. That's it. Just...Check the shooting. Put up the scene. Okay, so, Bonnano - he goes to a remote location, alone, no backup. That means he knows his attackers and he's not expecting any trouble. Now, what did you just say? You said no files on it? So, Bonnano was keeping this investigation off the books.

Tara: Explains a secret meeting. Off hours, away from any witnesses.

Eliot: Cops are looking in the wrong place

- - - - -

Tara: So, what's our angle here? I haven't been with you guys very long, but taking someone down for attempted murder isn't something you normally do.

Nate: Listen, we come at him like any other mark. We flip over a rock in this guy's backyard, see what jumps out

- - - - -

[Bonnano’s House]

Eliot: Yeah, we're heading in now. You spend your weekends making these things, don't you?

Hardison: Yes, I do, and does anybody appreciate that?

[City Hall]

Parker: I do. I like the costumes. I wish I was there.

[Reelection Campain Event]

Parker, we need someone to sweep the mayor's office while he's here at the fundraiser.

[City Hall]

Parker: Fine. But I never get to do anything fun. (jumps off building)

- - - - -

Hardison: Hey. We are gonna search every inch of this carpet.

Cop: What am I looking for?

Hardison: Fibers, damn it. Fibers. And you -- you go search the bedroom and the bathroom for DNA. Get me a toothbrush, a hairbrush. I don't care if it's a nose trimmer. You bag it, tag it, and send it to the lab.

Cop: Um, th-- this carpet's made of fibers.

Hardison: Well, we're looking for other fibers -- suspicious fibers, fibers of crime. Damn! What'd they teach you at the academy, boy?! On my nerves.

eliot has to hide his smile when attention was turned to him ,,, he was lowkey very amused by hardison’s “fibers” shtick

- - - - -

Tara (walking away): You can handle this. Just feed them a story.

Parker: No, I can't do that. I mean, I can, but Sophie usually walks me through this.

Tara: Okay, take a deep breath. If you're uncomfortable, use it. Make them feel uncomfortable. Here's what you tell them.

Secretary: Who are you?

Parker: Peggy Marwood. Friend of Brad's.

Secretary: You can't just barge in here. Do you have an appointment?

Parker: Yeah, actually, I do. That's what this is all about. I sort of missed my appointment, if you know what I mean. (patting her stomach) Yeah. I, uh, sort of, uh, met Brad at the, uh...

Tara: National Mayors conference.

Parker: ...National Mayors conference...

Tara: In Vegas....

Parker: In Vegas... about six to eight weeks ago. Is that his family? (picks up picture from desk) Oh, they don't have any weird genetic...Things, do they?

Secretary: I'm sorry. The mayor didn't mention anything to me about this.

Tara: All right, now make her think you're gonna leave.

Parker: No problem. I'm just gonna go sit out there with everybody, and I might need a wastebasket, though, 'cause I'm feeling a little (gags) you know what I mean?

Secretary: No! You should wait in here... Okay....In that chair right there, away from everyone who might... see you.

Parker: Thanks. (to Tara) I owe you one.

Tara: Now, see? Trusting me is not so bad (parker smiles and gets up)

that’s very smart ??? iconic

- - - - -

Tara: I don't know. Culpepper doesn't strike me as the type to order a hit, especially on something like a graft case. What's the big deal, you know? You get caught, you go on TV with your wife, you cry, you get re-elected.

Parker: Yeah, it's the American way.

Tara: Exactly.

Hardison: Nah, this guy’s been caught in the middle of a dozen corruption cases. Each time, he's walked away, and somebody else took the fall. This guy does not get caught.

call! america! OUT!!!

- - - - -

Nate: Classic con -- hook, pinch, and flip.

Tara: Hook the mayor with the idea we're gonna build a ballpark here on all this land that he owns.

Nate: That's right, and then pinch him for a bribe to guarantee he gets the action. Hardison tells me he runs a lot of gray money through his re-election campaign, so he'll take the bribe out of his re-election funds.

Tara: Which is a federal offense. All right, so once we nail the mayor for the bribe...

Nate: The flip, right? Yeah, when the heat comes down, whoever shot Bonnano cuts a deal, the mayor goes down

so now we know the hook, pinch, flip

- - - - -

Hardison: You got drafted in the sixth round right out of high school. Had a cup of coffee in the royals organization. Then you bounced around the minors, you bounced around the world, and, as we can see here, you made a very popular commercial for an energy drink in Japan.

Eliot (on screen): Super happy power go!

Hardison: It took me 13 hours.

Eliot: There's only one problem. I don't like baseball.

Hardison: What? E-everybody likes baseball.

Eliot: I don't like baseball, man. All right? I don't like any sport you can't score on defense. Football, hockey, even basketball, but baseball?

Hardison: I'm not even talking to you. (walks away)

Eliot: It's boring. Hey, wait. Can you play the commercial?

Eliot (on screen): Super happy power go

chaotic boyfriends

also this is literally my favorite thing ever ,,, eliot enjoys the video so much

- - - - -

Eliot: Yeah, that's right, run away. Faster you start panicking, the faster I can get out of here. (swings at ball, nearly hits the pitcher)

Pitcher: Whoa!

Eliot: This time with a little more heat.

his bashful lil smile when he realizes he might actually like baseball? he’s baby, your honor

- - - - -

Parker (into phone): Los Beavers me han entristecido con su traicion, Esteban.

Hardison: You speak Spanish?

Parker: Si.

Hardison: Seriously?

another one of parker’s MANY hidden talents

- - - - -

Culpepper: Oh. Oh, be still my heart -- If my heart were somewhere in my pants. This is a thing of beauty.

Aid: He's building a ballpark?

Culpepper: A riverfront ballpark.

two words: y’all NASTY

- - - - -

eliot’s hair in this one is MAJESTIC

- - - - -

[Crowd chanting “Roy” in the background]

Nate: All right, good news, bad news.

Tara: Good news?

Nate: The mayor's hooked. We're in the pinch.

Tara: Bad news?

Nate: I think we lost Eliot until the playoffs.

+ y’all best believe I hc that parker and hardison managed to go to one of their practices/games before the con was over

- - - - -

Eliot: You left early, man. Huh? Bottom of the ninth.

Hardison: Excuse your rudeness. I'm explaining the con. It's very complicated.

Eliot: Really? The mayor gives us a check, and we deposit it in some company you connected back to him. Looks like he's embezzling from his campaign funds. Bottom of the ninth, man. I hit a walk-off single, man. Crowd goes nuts.

Hardison: But that's -- that's not all there is, okay? We got -- there's - there's the Bonnano thing.

Eliot: What? We give Bonnano’s notes to the newspaper, man? They named a sandwich after me at T.J. Philbin's.

Parker: Ohh. Ooh.

Eliot: Huh?

Hardison: I'll give it to you, man. The sandwich thing is pretty cool. Is this a hoagie?

Eliot: No, man, it's a Reuben.

THEY DID THEIR HANDSHAKE!!! we love to see the ot3 in action

+ parker’s wearing a flannel again

- - - - -

Guard: Hey, aren't you Roy Chappell? Yeah, you hit the game-winner yesterday for the beavers. I was there with my kid.

Eliot: I did.

Guard: What are you doing here?

Eliot: It's Triple-A ball, so I got to have a day job, you know? Excuse me. Sorry. (closes door)

Guard (through window): Oh, hey, Roy? You mind? (hands him paper and pen) It's for my kid.

Culpepper: No, I don't mind, man.

Guard: All right. Thanks, Roy.

Hardison: Who are you right now?

Eliot: Hey, man, what do you want me to do?

Hardison: Huh? Seriously?

Eliot: Like a role model.

Hardison: Seriously?

Eliot: What? It's not my fault

HES SO HAPPY

also hardison nobody missed your little smile and thumbs up in the background when the guy approached eliot,,, we see your secret pride for him

this was a great happy eliot + hardison interaction

- - - - -

(nearby agent’s phone rings, Nevin’s answers)

Nevins: Who is it? Who's this?

Hardison: You come in, and we'll kill all the hostages.

Nevins: What hostages?

Hardison: Oh, you thought the mayor was the only one? No, look, we got a whole Sunday school of people up in here. We got old folks, we got nuns, and we got explosives. You come in, you make headlines. (hangs up)

Nevins: We got any eyes in there?

Agent: No.

Nevins: Any cameras?

Agent: Nothing.

Nevins (into radio): All right, we hold! We hold! They're not going anywhere. Call for backup. I want bomb squads, full assault team, snipers. They want to play rough... We play rough

- - - - -

Eliot: Look, he needs a distraction.

Parker: We did just find a box of ammo and explosives. Boom. I'm just saying.

Eliot: The problem is in the delivery.

Hardison: And a detonator.

(Parker and Eliot turn to look at truck)

Hardison: No. Mnh-mnh. No. Mnh-mnh-mnh-mnh. Mnh-mnh. Mnh-mnh. Look, mnh-mnh. Not Lucille. Not Lucille! She all I got left. (Points to Parker, then Eliot) Don't you do it to me. Get that look out your eye.

(Parker and Eliot begin unloading the truck)

Hardison: You ain't got to be so happy about it, Eliot. You always had it in for my van. You always had it in for Lucille. You said she smells. She don't stink. It's just...An odor

parker and eliot were SO in sync when they both turned around at the same time

and also we love to see the ot3 being chaotic and framed together

- - - - -

parker kissed lucielle’s back door before they blew it up she has A HEART YOUR HONOR AND ITS RIGHT THERE FOR US TO SEE

- - - - -

(Hardison directs the van toward the warehouse with remote control)

Hardison: I've always been and forever shall be your friend.

awww baby

also apparently this was a star trek reference

- - - - -

Sterling: Oh, I wouldn't say that. (holds up badge) James Sterling... Interpol. Just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?

what a DOUCHEBAG

#leverage 2.14 #leverage 2x14 #the three strikes job #leverage #leverage season 2 #season 2 #notable moments #mine

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Unraveling at the Seams Pt 22

Genre: Fan Fiction Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC Warnings: Language, Sexual Innuendo, Possible NSFW Rating: M Length: Multi Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: As I am sure some of you have noticed there are two tie in drabbles to this fic. I can’t let them go just yet and plan to have a few more of those floating around. If you haven’t read them and want to, check them out on the Unraveling at the Seams Master List 

thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr​​​ for the header

Catch Up Here

Departure came faster than Nell wished it ever would, helping Henry and Ivan pack their last few things to leave the next day, she had managed to put on a brave face. Despite feeling like she was falling apart inside, crumbling with each second.

In the past, Ivan had gone with Henry for longer. She would see them in two, maybe three weeks tops. The difference this time was the notion that Ivan would be living with Henry, until he decided he'd had his fill. What if that was never? What if he chose to stay with Henry, only visiting Nell on the odd days he felt like it? What if this bright idea was actually her losing her son?

Nell steadied her breath. Counting to ten in her heard. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. On the flip side, when Ivan got ready to leave for boarding school in a few years, she would be well prepared. Holding Ivan's carry on bag, Nell rolled her eyes as he asked Henry whether or not they would need umbrellas.

“It rains in London, a lot.”

“Yes, but all of our umbrellas are packed away. Besides,” Henry shrugged, “I have plenty at the house. We will be fine to get from the airport to home.”

“If you insist, but if we get a sudden down pour, it is your fault.” Ivan gave up the topic, handing Nell his spare pair of pants to put in his carry on.

“See, this is what you have to look forward to.” Trying her best to keep a happy face, Nell teased a worn Henry.

They had spent yesterday with Ivan, agreeing to whatever he wanted to do, during his last day in Dublin. A BBQ with a handful of friends had been his request. Though he assumed his parents hadn't noticed, Nell's heart nearly broke when she heard him crying after she put him to bed.

“We will manage,” Henry smirked, “If he is too much of a handful, perhaps boarding school early?”

“Ah, yes. Excellent idea.” Nell giggled.

Ivan huffed and snarled, shaking his head. His parents thought they were funny, the least he could do was save humanity and try to stop their jokes. Nobody had time for terrible and lame jokes.

“If you want to get rid of me, I can go live with Uncle Charlie, he said I could.”

“Winters are cold, in Canada.” Nell shrugged it off.

“If you want to live with Uncle Charlie, or any other family member, you can.” Henry answered, straight faced. “But I am not paying for you. You'll have to find a job and you will need to pay them rent, groceries, and...”

“Dadddd,” Ivan whined, rolling his eyes and huffing. “You're not funny.”

Feigning hurt, Henry shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I am extremely funny. I will have you know.”

“Okay, if you say so.” Ivan shrugged it off, glancing at Nell. “Do you think he's funny, momma?”

“Okay, you two, back to the task.” Nell instructed, chuckling at the thought of Henry having to deal with Ivan's sarcasm on a daily basis. “And yes, you're very funny, Henry.”

Suit cases and other bags packed for the morning, they retired to a take away dinner of Indian food. Ivan had fought Nell until he gave in and agreed to Indian, she could not and would not eat any more sushi - for a long while. Damn Henry for introducing their son.

Happy with his dinner choices, Ivan requested some time to play a video game or two, before bed. Once his meal was done, he was certain everything he needed for the following day was ready, he had his shower, and his teeth were clean. His parents gave in to his pleas.

Stretched out on the couch, Nell groaned when Henry attempted to move her, to sit down. Protesting, with absolutely no effort, Nell allowed him to lift her upper body, before sitting and placing her head on his thigh. A bold display, seeing as Ivan was still awake and running around the house.

“I have something for you,” Henry smiled, holding up his phone. “Look at this,” handing Nell his phone, the screen displayed a concept drawing. A rough outline of a man in well loved and worn armor.

“Is this what I think it is?” She sat up, trying to get a better look at the image.

“I've insisted they send you a copy, you should have it now. It's yours to do as you wish, milady.”

“Well, your grace, I will take them and see what magic I can do.” Nell winked. Henry's cheeks flushed, groaning, he fought back a laugh.

“Why do you have to do that?”

“Does it bother you, your grace?” Nell giggled. Handing his phone back.

“Not in a particularly upsetting way.” Henry slid his phone into his pocket. Licking his lips, he was nearly ready to let the topic go. “Although, I do ask you remember that my name is Henry. No Geralt or Charles,”

“Please, I make a mistake once.” Snorting, Nell rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. “It had been a very long day.”

“It was kind of kinky.” Henry burst into laughter. “If you ever want to pretend that, then...”

“Oh shut up,” Nell squealed, her turn to become bright red. “Although, Culpepper was kind of hot. Maybe we could...”

“Charles Brandon or nothing,” Henry put on his best frown, teasing her.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Nell clicked her tongue against her teeth, leaning over she gave him a quick kiss. “Perhaps, one day I shall cash in. Until that day, I think we need to get our son to bed and make sure he's rested.”

An early morning looming meant Henry and Nell were not far behind Ivan in going to bed. As Henry snuck in to join Ivan and Kal in the big bed, Nell stood in the doorway for a few seconds watching Ivan sleeping. She had spent nearly every night of his young life watching him for a few moments before she went to bed.

The first night they'd had him home, she wanted to sleep in the rocking chair beside his bassinet. Henry had discouraged her, saying she would be too stiff and uncomfortable. Allowing her to watch Ivan for a few minutes, he'd guided her to bed, sneaking out once she was asleep to spend the night in the chair instead.

Any time Ivan had been sick or scared, Nell would spend the night in his room or him in hers. The two of them cuddled up, keeping the world at bay. Henry would often take naps with Ivan, when he was an infant, stretched out with Ivan sleeping soundly on his chest. Coming in to find them peacefully dosing would delight Nell to no end. She knew how soothing it was to use Henry as a pillow.

After tonight, it would be on Henry to keep Ivan safe while he slept. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Nell slipped away from the door, across the hall. Henry would do a fantastic job, he always had.

Restless and anxious, Nell tossed and turned in the smaller bed. Every time she closed her eyes, tears formed, and she couldn't stop them. At one point, she had considered kicking Kal off the bed and climbing in on the other side of Ivan. No, she refused to let her son see his mother in such a state. He was eager and content with their new arrangement. Nell didn't want him to worry or back out of living with Henry.

Instead, she laid, clutching the pillow and wiping the tears that slid down her cheeks.

“Come on wild boy,” Henry gently nudged Ivan's shoulder, rousing him from his sleep. “Time to get up. We have to get you fed and spend some time with mum.”

“Can't I seep?” Begging would do him no good, yet Ivan had to try.

“No, you need to get up.” Henry encouraged. “Up, let's go.”  He did his best to rouse his son.

Kal bounced off the bed, stretching when his paws hit the floor, yawning and nosing Ivan in an attempt to play.

“Fine,” Ivan grumbled, rolling over and grabbing the pillow. Covering his head, he sighed snuggling into the sheets. The bed was too comfortable to leave it this morning.

“Ivan, now.” Henry's voice took a stern tone. “We don't have time for games this morning. I am going downstairs, I want you down there in five minutes.”

“Fine, ugh.”

This was not the morning for Ivan to be in a mood. They had three hours until their car arrived for the airport, as much as Henry wanted to allow Ivan to sleep until that moment, he wanted Nell to spend some time with their son before he departed. Urging Ivan to get out of bed, Henry gave him a three minute warning, leaving to let Kal out.

Happy to be bouncing around the garden before his flight, Kal romped and bounced across the damp grass. Panting and wagging his tail, he was content to be while Henry went to retrieve his son. Sliding the door part way, in case Kal wanted back in, Henry stepped into the kitchen.

“Where's the wild boy?” He asked glancing around.

Rubbing her eyes, Nell yawned while preparing the coffee to come to life. “He's in bed, I told him to sleep in a little.”

At some point she had managed to fall asleep, waking when she heard Henry and Kal in the hall. Nell had taken the chance to scuttle across the hall and climb in bed with Ivan for a few minutes. Whining that he was too tired to sleep, Nell gave him permission to sleep a little longer before heading downstairs to find a good caffeine fix.

“I wanted him up, to spend time with you before he left.”

“He's tired, Henry. I can still see him before he leaves. I'll make breakfast and then we can wake him. Thank you for the thoughts, though.” Nell extended on her tip toes, kissing him on his cheek. Morning stubble scratching her face, she winkled her nose and giggled. “You need a shave, mister.”

“You give in too easily,” Henry rested his cheek on the top of her head.

“Ha! Ask the wild boy how easily I usually give in. Poor kid, he probably agreed to live with you, because he wants a break.” Nell snorted at her admission.

“Never, you're a good mum and kids need boundaries. He isn't coming to live with me for a vacation, if that is what he thinks. I probably have far more rules.” Henry laughed.

“Because you know how boys think?” Nell gently pushed him away, in order to get her coffee. Pouring the hot liquid, she sighed deeply. The delicious smell wafting through the house was like a warm hug. “I'm glad the two of you are getting the chance for this.”

“As am I.” Henry took the cup of coffee that she'd poured him. Taking a sip, he licked his lips and smiled, checking his watch. “Now, as his father, I need to go drag him out of bed.”

Dissent and grouchiness poured from Ivan, as he trudged down stairs to the kitchen. Breakfast waiting eased his grumpiness a little. A kiss on the top of the head and a hug from his mother eased it a little more. A promise that he could sleep as soon as they got on the plane, eased it even more. Sitting at the table, Ivan took a bite of his toast and tried not to yawn.

The sun was barely up and his parents were too full of life.

Busy with last minute details, Henry was glued to his phone. This happened when he was traveling, Ivan ignored his dad trying to hide a frantic look. Next to Ivan at the table, Nell ate her breakfast, no doubt trying not to cry. Ivan had witnessed Nell's emotions a time or two, as he was gearing up to go on holidays or to visit Henry. Quietly reaching over, Ivan took her hand, smiling sweetly.

“Mum,” His voice was hushed.

“Yes, wild boy?”

“I love you.” His smile grew, a small spatter of raspberry jam on his cheek.

“I love you, too.” Nell squeezed his hand, smiling.

Silent, Ivan nodded and returned to his toast.

More than anything he loved his mother. She was the most fantastic person in the world, maybe even a tiny bit more fantastic than his dad. Ivan had done a great deal of thinking, since agreeing to move with his dad. What happened to his mum? She would be all on her own, would she miss him? Would he miss her?

Yes, he would see her in a few weeks, but until then. How would he know if she was happy or sad? Plenty of times Ivan had left to go stay with Henry, this time was some how different, in a way the boy couldn't quite figure out. When his parents said things would be fine, he trusted them, yet he had a doubt or two. Probably nerves of moving to a new city – again.

“Are you finished?” Nell asked motioning to Ivan's nearly empty plate. His crust and a bit of melon left on the side.

“Yep, can I go play with Kal for a bit?”

“Go on, but do not leave this yard. Understood?” Using her mom voice, Nell narrowed her gaze at her son.

“I understand. We won't leave.” Ivan promised, sticking his pinkie finger in the air, giving his mother a pointed stare. Pinkie promise, he and Kal were outside like a flash. The sun had began to rise moments ago, giving them enough light to play for a little while.

“What's on that beautiful mind, my darling?” Henry passed, kissing the top of Nell's head.

“He's getting too big, how do we stop it?” A hint of tears in her voice.

“I suppose I could see if we can afford a time machine.” Henry shrugged, placing his plate on the table and taking Ivan's previous seat. “I wish we could keep him little forever, too.”

Wiping her hands across her cheeks, Nell groaned and shook her head. “No, I shouldn't be so sad over this. This is a good thing. He's growing and becoming independent, he's a very lucky boy to have the life he lives.”

“That he is and we,” Henry smiled proudly, “are lucky to have such a son.”

“I know you've always wanted more, but I think we've hit the jackpot with the one we have.” Nell's chest expanded with a large breath and a sigh. “How could anyone compare to how awesome the wild boy is?”

“Exactly, it's why there is only one, right? Limited Editions, they're always the best.” Henry winked, lifting his cup of coffee.

No need to add on perfection.

Henry had hoped that one day, he'd find somebody to have more children with – while in his search to replace Nell.  It was no secret that he wanted a house full of children, if it happened lovely. If Ivan were to be his only one, then he was fortunate to have that.

Once he had come to realize there was no replacing what he wanted, or had, then the idea of more children dwindled. Instead all he could do was make sure his son had the best life possible.

“Right.” Nell bit her bottom lip. This was not the time to burst into tears, becoming a sobbing mess. Sniffing back her tears, she reached out taking Henry's mug, taking a drink of his coffee and making a face. How he could drink it this way, a mystery. Nevertheless it did the trick, giving her something new to wonder.

The morning seemed to go in a single blink.

What seemed like milliseconds, the car that Henry had requested from the airport was in the drive. A single honk before a well dressed man appeared. Standing at the back of the car, he waited with a friendly smile. Waving to let him know his presence was acknowledged, Nell pulled her head back in the door.

“Got everything?”

“Yes,” Henry gave her a firm nod. “Ivan?”

“Yep, we're good to go.” Ivan nodded eagerly. His nerves taking a side step.

“Alright,” Nell brushed her hand over his hair. “Be good for dad, I love you. I will see you in a few weeks. Okay?”

Ivan nodded, clutching his backpack in one hand, trying to hold his suitcase handle with the other. “I love you.”

“All set, wild boy?” Henry shouldered his carry on, Kal's leash in one hand, passports in the other.

“Yep, let's rock and roll.”

“It's okay, you'll see him in a few weeks.” Trying his best to console Nell, before the became a water works factory, Henry gave her a gentle smile and a hug. “We will call as soon as we land.”

“Thank you,” Smiling with shiny eyes, Nell clutched the door. “You should get going.”

A tight hug, a kiss on the top of the head, and a thousand “love yous”, Nell ushered Henry, Ivan, and Kal out the door. Standing to watch them climb into the waiting airport car, she waved and blew them a kiss. Once Ivan and Kal were settled in the car, Henry followed closing the door. A soft thud from door of the sleek black sedan caused Nell's heart to jump.

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- if you want to be added? removed, please let me know

(sorry if this hasn’t been tagging people. IDK what is up but tumblr is a prick, It’s telling me you are all tagged, but then shows the links didn’t work, but shows they did ugh)

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #dad!henry cavill #alex høgh andersen #alex høgh andersen fanfiction #unraveling at the seams

[rootsmachine]

lost somewhere, somehow along the way

(aka yeah i did write walker fic, cancel me) cordell/hoyt, pre-canon, 1619 words [ao3]

Cordell Walker and Duke Culpepper have exactly one thing in common: Hoyt Rawlins.

It’s dangerous, and ill-advised, and just plain stupid. It would take one person poking around too much into Hoyt’s past for them to find article after article from your high school newspaper with your face, your name, your arm slung over Hoyt’s shoulder after a homecoming game.

But Clint needs a wheelman, and he brought it up all casual, but you know it’s a test. Bring someone onto the team, have the robbery go off without a hitch, and you’re in. You stopped asking permission before making decisions months ago, so you don’t let anyone know until the night before, weeks after you first floated Hoyt’s name. The text has barely sent when Liam calls you, and you block his number, turn your burner off instead.

You’ve always trusted Hoyt with your life. It’s more than you can say about any of the morons James could have provided.

/

Twyla’s still asleep when you leave the next morning, and you stick a note to the bathroom mirror for her. She’s nothing like Emily, which is the only way you can manage to do what you’re doing. Lying next to her in bed, everything that makes you yourself fades back into the smallest corner of your mind, and you’re just Duke. This, you make a mental note to yourself, is something you should gloss over in your psych eval after this is all over.

It’s almost an hour’s drive to the address Hoyt gave you to pick him up at. It gives you enough time to relax Duke just a bit, practice what you’re going to say to Hoyt once he’s in your truck. Part of you hopes that he didn’t bother to get your cover down, so you have something concrete to talk about for the drive back. Otherwise, he might be tempted to joke about the summer after your senior year, like he always does.

Hoyt’s jokes don’t usually even faze you, but today has to go perfectly.  As soon as you get back to Twyla’s apartment, Duke has to be absolutely solid, absolutely trustworthy, and absolutely embedded in her life. After all, Duke’s never slept with the wheelman he volunteered for the job. That was Cordell, and today, Cordell has got to be as good as dead.

/

Of course, the address Hoyt gave you was to a bar. He’s sitting alone in a booth, drinking a beer at 9:30am.

“Beau, I thought you’d never make it,” he says when you slide into the seat across from him.

“It’s Duke,” you answer, and you let Duke’s accent come across a little heavier. “Duke Culpepper.”

He laughs, flagging down the sole waitress, who looks none too pleased to be serving Hoyt more booze. “Another beer for me, and whatever your cheapest whiskey is for Duke here. Or does he have another drink of choice?”

“That’s fine,” and a voice that’s probably whatever’s left of your self-preservation instinct reminds you that you have to drive back to Twyla’s, that it’s not even 10am. You ignore it. You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Hoyt lets you finish your drink in silence, and doesn’t say anything when you motion to the waitress for a second one. Last time you saw him was at Emily’s funeral, and you’re almost positive you’ll kill him if he brings it up. You know he won’t though -- he knows you better than that.

“So, Duke,” and the name falls easily from his mouth. He’s a good liar, you know this, and Liam can go fuck himself with whatever objections he would have had to this. “I know all about you, but what about me? Who am I playing here?”

“You’re Hoyt,” you answer shortly. “You’re not playing anyone.”

“Hoyt and Duke, though,” he starts, raising his eyebrows at you. You slam the empty glass on the table so hard the waitress jumps a little, glancing over at you and Hoyt like she wants you to get the fuck out.

“Are friends. I worked a job with you back in Arizona, you’re in San Antonio now looking for some work. That’s it.” Your phone buzzes, and you know it’s Twyla without even looking.

“Show time?” Hoyt asks, already pulling out his wallet.

“Show time,” and you try to give the waitress an apologetic Cordell smile on the way out. From the look on her face, it falls more than flat.

/

The job goes smoothly, more smoothly than you had even allowed yourself to hope for. Clint won’t tell you how much he got from the vaults, but from the way he nods at you as Hoyt tears away from the scene, you know you’re in.

You meet Twyla at another bar, and she throws her arms around you, kissing you hard. She tastes like bubblegum, you process distantly, and vodka.

“Too bad Crystal’s gonna be back from her hearing next week,” she says, glancing over at Hoyt, who’s watching you more intently than you like. “Otherwise, we might just have more work for you.”

“Ah,” he says, his smile big and fake, “I’m just glad to help out an old friend,” and he smacks you on the back. “Next round’s on me, yeah?”

By the time Clint comes inside, still talking to Crystal on the phone, you’ve lost count of the number of shots you’ve done, and Twyla is practically sitting in your lap. Everything is pleasantly fuzzy, and you realized probably four drinks ago that two of the three people you’ve ever slept with are sitting at this table. Sober, this realization would make you want to drink, but the tequila Twyla keeps buying makes it almost funny.

Clint leaves early, casually dropping that the babysitter had to go home before it got too late, which makes you remember with a sickening twist what exactly will happen to his and Crystal’s kid if you do your job right. Duke doesn’t have kids though, so you just squeeze Twyla’s hip and make some halfhearted joke about letting the old folks head home. The room feels too small, too warm, and it’s easy for you to blame it on the alcohol.

The bar’s bathroom is dirty, and smells like old cigarettes, but it’s quiet and empty, and no one’s there to watch when you fill up the grimy sink and hold yourself under the water until your lungs are screaming.

When you come up, wet and gasping, Duke’s face fits seamlessly over your own again, the cracks smoothed back over. Someone makes a noise by the door, and you spin around, hand already going to the gun tucked in your waistband.

“Calm down, cowboy,” and it’s just Hoyt, leaning against the doorframe, watching you with that same intent look. “Your girl sent me back, wanted to make sure you weren’t puking your guts up like a high schooler.”

“A man can’t piss without the third degree?” you snap, and Hoyt holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Don’t shoot the messenger. Twyla says you’re a lightweight,” and yeah, that is part of this cover. Supposed to keep you from drinking too much and losing control of the situation.

In another lifetime, you would have dragged Hoyt into one of the empty stalls, and done whatever you wanted to him. With him. It’s how this started, drunk in a bar that overlooked your fake IDs, fresh off Emily breaking up with you post-graduation, and your best friend the only one who understood.

But: you’re not him anymore, so you carefully dry off your hands and let the bathroom door slam shut behind you.

/

Twyla offers to let Hoyt sleep on her couch, but he shrugs it off. Logically, you know the less time Duke spends with him the better, but there’s some selfish part of you that doesn’t want to give up the familiarity just yet.

You walk him to the bus station, and don’t let him tell you where he’s going next. You know you’re already in a fuck ton of trouble with James for the way everything’s gone down, and you need plausible deniability when Hoyt continues down the path you know he’s on. The bus station is empty, which is the only reason you let yourself sit on the hard, plastic bench next to him.

“Duke,” he says and his voice is soft, in a way you’re used to him using to talk to your mom, and everything feels wrong. “Call me if you need a hand again?”

You nod, clap him on the shoulder. Twyla’s probably already wondering where you are, and you stand to leave. Hoyt’s not done though, and he grabs your wrist as you start to leave.

“Don’t lose yourself in this, Cordy,” and you’ll let the name slide, just this once. He lets go almost as quickly as he grabbed you, and you’re left disoriented, wondering if it even happened at all.

The walk back to Twyla’s is cold, or maybe you’re still drunk, or maybe high off the adrenaline of the job. Whatever it is, the walk is cold and fast and you pretend you’re too drunk to have sex with her when you finally crawl into bed.

You drape your arm across her waist instead, tuck her head under your chin, and make yourself push Cordell far, far away.

/

Three weeks later, Clint will ask if Hoyt’s available to do another job, and you’ll lie, claiming he’s been caught violating parole in Oklahoma, and you can see if any of your other contacts are available. You’ll call James for the first time in almost a month to check in, and you won’t feel anything at all.

#as someone actively running a supernatural blog in the year 2021 im not about to be ashamed of things i like NOW #walker #cordell walker #anyways this show is fun im enjoying myself and here this is if anyone else is Also watching this show #cordell walker is absolutely having a Terrible time and he's making Terrible decisions and i support him in it <3 #fic*

[scandalousladysuggestion]

Your Esteemed Ladyship, My name is Thomas Culpepper, former courtier to the Viscount Lisle. His Royal Highness Henry has begun sending me letters by hawk, calling me his “beautiful youth”, which I though was frivolous and fun, until he appointed me keeper of Penhurst Palace. It’s been months, and his wife is to give birth soon, and in his last letter he said he means to visit before appointing me as a Gentleman of his Privy Chamber. I am unsure what to do since his letters have become…salacious.

Dear Thomas, 

His Majesty has had no deal of luck with his wives. Perhaps a husband should suit him better? Take heed of the prudent example of the esteemed Lady Anne Boleyn and let his desires remain bound to ink and parchment alone until he has offered you something substantial in return.  

Nonsensical, you say? Hardly. If His Majesty has proven anything in his tiresomely long and turbulent reign, it is that he has put himself quite above all precedent and protocol. 

And I daresay such would be a wiser course to pursue than, say... any unwise pursuit of a queen consort. Let’s say I have an inkling regarding the outcome of such a path. 

Yours sincerely, 

Her Ladyship. 

#(Ah how much happier history might have been if Henry VIII and Thomas Culpepper had ended up together) #(And left poor Katherine Howard well enough alone)

[hjzart]

there’s probably plenty of captain hook oc’s for this, but I wanted to try my hand at one.

I wanted to keep him true to the original captain hook, especially since I liked the hair and boofy it was!

Also the name culpepper is from the mariner at the disney haunted mansion ride.

 from a wealthy pirate family

constantly butting heads with Gideon

He has a steel prosthetic hand, but it doesn’t hinder his sword fighting and piano playing ability

He usually has his hair tied up in a red ribbon

elegant and snooty

(should I draw a smee for him???)

#my art #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland

[janeyseymour]

Escape- pt 9

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5. pt 6. pt 7. pt 8.

Jane Seymour has stayed with Henry long enough. Cue Catherine of Aragon and the rest of the girls to save her.

Jane and Catherine take advice from others.

Henry had made his way out of the state and hadn’t seen his case since leaving until now. 

“A Mr. Henry Tudor has been on the loose since last month due to a report of physical abuse to his at-the-time fiancee. Police have very limited information. If you, or someone you know, has any information on the whereabouts of Tudor, please dial the number at the bottom of the screen. That’s all for tonight. We’ll see you again tomorrow.”

“Shit,” he muttered when he heard a knock on the door. “Coming.”

“Your food is here.” The lady smiled before her nose scrunched in confusion. “You look vaguely familiar.”

“Oh, that’s not possible. This is the first time I’ve ever been at this hotel.” It wasn’t a lie; this was the first time he had been at the hotel. “But maybe I’ll see you around sometime soon? After you get off of work maybe?” Henry didn’t know it, but he had just fallen into a trap.

“I’d like that. I’ll come to your room around 7:30?”

“I’ll be waiting.” He winked at her and closed the door. “Oh this bitch doesn’t know what she just got herself into.” Then a realization hit him: he never ordered room service. 

Around 7:15, Henry heard a knock at his door.

“It’s just me!” The room service lady called.

“Hey gorgeous,” he grinned as he opened the door. “Boy are you-”

“Henry Tudor put your hands up!” The woman yelled as she pointed a gun in his direction.

“How do you know who I am?” he shouted as he threw his arms up.

“Bring ‘em in boys.” A group of police ran in and seized the man. 

“What the hell? You bitch!” He tried to escape the woman’s grasp.

“You didn’t think I recognized you? If you thought you were going to get away with harming a poor innocent woman to get to another poor innocent woman, you really are crazy,” she laughed as Henry was put in handcuffs and led out of the hotel. 

Catherine’s cell phone began ringing while the two were napping again. She reached for the phone quickly so as to not disturb a slumbering Jane. 

“Hello?” She answered without looking at the caller ID.

“Catherine? It’s Beale.”

“Oh hi. Let me wake Jane.”

“You might want to. I have big news.” 

“Okay.” She held the phone to her chest. “Jane? Honey, wake up.”

“Mmm,” she stirred. “Baby’s hungry. Pickles and peanut butter.” She smiled with her eyes closed. 

“I’ll get that for you, but right now Beale is on the phone.” Grace’s eyes flew open. 

“I’m awake. Put it on speaker.” Catherine complied, and Officer Beale’s voice was heard throughout the room. 

“Henry was arrested yesterday. We are unsure of who else is or was involved, so we suggest you continue to lay low and keep up with any sorts of training you began. He has a $250,000 bail before he goes to trial, and it doesn’t seem likely that he’ll be able to make it, but we��ve had crazier things happen. Questions?”

“Are there any people suspected to have been involved?” Catherine asked simply.

“There was a disposable phone in his possession that had been calling a recently disconnected number. He alluded to the fact that he was in contact with a Mr. Thomas Culpepper. Does that name ring a bell?”

“Yes,” Jane said through clenched teeth. She knew she had been right to hang up on him the day he called her. 

“He hasn’t been seen in a while, so we’re suspecting it has something to do with him.”

“Thank you sir. Have a nice day,” Jane’s voice trembled. As soon as they hung up, a tear fell down her face. 

“Why are you crying honey?” Catherine wiped the tear away with her thumb. 

“Hormones and happiness,” she began sobbing. When her sobs grew louder, the other four women made their way to the bedroom. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the gentle woman to cry, especially now with carrying a child. That didn’t stop the others from running to her side to offer her comfort, and cake if you were Anne. 

“Happy crying?” Anna read the room quickly. Jane nodded. 

“Do you want cake?” Jane shook her head. “Well, I always have cake ready if you ever decide you want cake.” 

“Just give me her damned location!” The second Jane and Catherine hung up, Thomas had called, refusing to give up his name. “I am a very close friend to Jane, and I want to make sure she’s okay! She considers me family!”

“It’s confidential sir. I can’t just give that information away to anyone, and you are not family sir. If you were family, she would have told you herself.” Beale had figured this was someone who wanted Jane for themselves. “If anything, she’s dating the person she left with. They’re her family now. Good day.” Best to not give up any information on Catherine either, he thought. Then, he remembered something. Grace had mentioned something about a baby.

“Jane Seymour,” the blonde answered as she usually does. 

“I would advise you not to answer the phone like that anymore. You’re hiding, remember?”

“Oh. I didn’t even think about that. Thank you.”

“Just looking out for you Jane. Are you pregnant?” He got straight to the point. 

“Ye-yes,” she stammered. “How’d you know?”

“You were half-asleep and said something about a baby and pickles and peanut butter. My wife had the same craving when she was pregnant. Put two and two together.”

“Oh. Well, I am, and I fully intend on keeping it.” Her voice went stone cold as she followed with, “I demand full custody of my son or daughter.”

“Of course. I’ll have those papers sent out as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” her tone went back to normal.

“Of course. Good day.”

“You told him?” Catherine asked, half asleep.

“Figured he should know?”

“Hey, do you wanna go out to dinner tonight? I can pick you up at six,” Catherine laughed at her half-joke.

“Sure. What should I wear?” The blonde leaned back into her companion.

“Something nice, but not too nice? It feels like forever since we’ve done anything fancy, and when the baby comes along, God only knows when’s the next time we’ll be able to do something,” she laughed.

“Okay! Before all of that though, I have to call my mom.”

“I’ll be here.” Catherine reached for her phone. With Jane out of the room, she saw this as her opportunity to call John.

“Hey John, it’s Cath. We have to talk.”

“What’s going on? The kid’s not yours, is it?”

-

“Mom, it can’t really be Lina’s. That’s not really how that works. And besides, we haven’t done anything,” she paused before adding on a quiet, “yet.”

“Okay!” Margaret exclaimed, although a bit defeatedly. “I just need to prove your father wrong... Wait, yet?”

-

“Sir, I’m taking your daughter out tonight. I want to ask her if I can be there for the baby, almost like another parental figure. You know her best. How will she react?”

“That baby might not be yours biologically, but that doesn’t matter. Your heart’s in it, and that makes you more of a parent to this baby than Henry will ever be.”

-

“She’s taking me to dinner, and I’m going to use this as an opportunity to ask her if she’ll help me with the baby, so long as everything goes well these next months.”

“Honey, I’m 100% sure that woman would literally do anything for you. She’s like a sister to you, isn’t she?”

“I’m not so sure anymore Mom. I don't really think of her like that anymore. I have to go get ready though, so we can talk about this later.”

“Not so fast.”

-

“Whatever happens, be there for my daughter. It doesn’t matter if you’re an aunt or another mother to that kid. Have the best intentions for the baby. Have the best intentions for Jane.”

“Yes sir.”

“I just have one more question for you,” John announced abruptly. “Are you, for real, in love with my daughter?”

-

“I just have a question for you Janey, and I want you to answer it truthfully. Are you in love with her?” Margaret pressed.

In two separate rooms, the two replied, “Uh, yeah. I think I am.”

Jane quietly walked into the living room, realizing she had forgotten a washcloth for the shower. Catherine was still on the phone. She backed into the hall but couldn’t help listening in on her conversation.

“Yeah, no. Don’t worry John. You can tell Margaret.” Jane gasped before going silent, praying Catherine hadn’t heard her. She counted to ten before walking in. 

“Dad, I gotta go,” Catherine tried to cover up her conversation, blissfully unaware that Jane heard the last of the conversation. “See you later.”

“So cute with your dad,” Jane played along with the other woman’s bit. “So where are we going exactly?”

“Well, Cathy knows this super quaint- no. It’s a surprise.” She grinned. “Don’t worry. You’ll see in like three hours. Right now though, I have to run some errands. You cool to stay home for a little while?”

“Yeah, of course I am.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few hours. Don’t do anything too crazy.” She kissed the blonde woman's cheek softly.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just going to get the peanut butter and pickles you never got me!” she teased.

“I hate you.” Catherine grinned as she made her way out of the house.

Before Jane could go to the kitchen, Anna appeared. 

“So you and Cath are finally going on a date?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it a-”

“It’s probably a date. Seymour, you can’t tell me you and Cath don’t have even the smallest thing for each other.”

“We- I- she-”

“Just say it man. You’ll feel better.”

“Why do you think you know?”

“Know what?” Anna encouraged Jane to verbally admit the feelings she had for her friend. 

“Why do you think I have feelings for Lina?” Jane chose her words carefully. She wasn’t about to admit her feelings for her best friend, knowing her feelings would only be rejected.

“Well, for starters, you’re the only one who’s allowed to call her Lina. Anyone else is only to call her Cath, and you both made that clear. You’re also just not that secretive. The longing glances, the way you two are never apart, the clear soft spot you have for her.”

“You’re silly. We’re just friends. And even if I did have feelings for Lina, and I’m not saying I do, there’s no way she would reciprocate the feelings.” Jane wasn’t going to get her hopes up. 

“So you’re telling me that if I called her Lina to her face, she wouldn’t tell me not to?”

“Well no. She doesn’t really let anyone call her that but me.”

“And you’re telling me that Cath just goes around and kisses all of her friend’s cheeks? Because I can say with certainty that she hasn’t done that to any of us, not even Cathy, and those two are related.”

Jane went to argue, but Anna continued, “Listen Seymour, all I’m saying is: don’t deny what’s right and what’s right in front of you.” The woman left, leaving Jane standing by herself for a moment. Had she really been that oblivious? Was it possible Catherine was also in love with her?

#six the musical #six musical #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six musical fanfic #six the musical fanfic #aramour

[boleyn-falcon]

Tudor!Hunger Games Simulator!

OKay sO- i used that simulator and just filled it with Six and Tudor people and let them run LOOSE heres the LINK for it if you wanna run it yourselves! (note you gotta press edit cast then resubmit if you want new results)

heres what happened when i ran it! oh and if you use the link and post about what happens use #Tudor!HungerGames  so i can see it or just tag me!  lets get this show on the road (on the link i know i misspelled some names so dont mind that) 

so here are our teams!

1-HenRAT/Thomas Cromwell

2-Aragon/Maria

3-Anne/Maggie

4-Jane/Eddie

5-Anna/Bessie

6-Kitty/Elizabeth l

7-Mary l/Frencis Dereham

8-Henry Mannox/Thomas Culpepper

9-Thomas and Edward Seymour

10-Cathy/Mae Parr

11-Mary and George Boleyn

12-Henry Fitzroy/Joan

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

DAY ONE

Maria and Mannox both grab shields ; Cathy,Maggie,HenRAT,Fitzroy,and Mae run away ; George scares Joan ; Mary l finds explosives(oh lordy) ; Cromwell scares kitty ; Dereham runs away(pussy) ; Culpepper stays for resources ; Anne finds a bow and some arrows ; Eddie and Bessie fight for a bag and Eddie gives up ; Eddie runs away with a rope and a lighter ; Mary B grabs a shovel ; Anna grabs a spear ; Lizzie and aragon fight for a bag and Lizzie runs way ; Jane finds a canteen full of water ; Thomas Seymour finds some explosives ;

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

Maria gets water from a sponsor ; Dereham and Maggie hunt for people ; Anne practices archery ; Jane is a dumb bitch and sets off a mine while trying to set it ; Eddie fucking stabs George and kills him with sais ; Eddie goes hunting ; Thomas S explores ; Culpeper finds higher ground ; HenRAT sleeps because he’s a lazy fuck ; Cathy goes fishing with a TRIDENT ; Anna makes a shack ; Mary B looks for firewood ; Mary l explodes cromwell, Bessie, and Aragon ; Kitty scares off Joan(poor baby) ;  Mae attacks Lizzie but she escapes ;

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

OKAY if i do every day and night this will take forever so imma just put my favorite moments and who wins

Someone gives Maggie BOMBS ; Kitty questions her sanity ; Cathy fails at starting a fire ; Joan also cant start a fire(my poor angel ;-;) ; HENRAT AND MANOX HOLD HANDS- ; so do Anna and Eddie?? ; HENRAT MUDERS ANNA ; Cathy picks flowers?? ; Manox STABS ANNIE ; Joan and Mary B huddle(;-;) ; Lizzie Fitzroy and Cathy sings songs together?? (cathy wtf) ; MARIA FUCKING FALLS INTO A LAKE AND D I E S ; Annie is given a hatchet ; MAGGIE CRIES HERSELF TO SLEEP NO BABBBY ; culpepper chases Maggie(poor girl) ; Tom S sets off a mine the same way his dumbass sister did ; HenRAT is hurt by a berry bush- ; MANOX GETS BOMBS ; Joan tries to sing herself to sleep(MY ANGEL) ; Maggie pulls an allnighter ; Manox murders Annie- ; Eddie stalks Mae ; Lizzie scares off Mary ; Maggie sleeps(finally) ; HenRAT pushes Manox off a cliff ; HenRAT, Joan,Edward S, and Lizzie tell ghost stories ; Mae tries to poison Kitty’s drink but drinks it by accident and DIES ; Maggie passes out from exhaustion ; culpeper stabs Ed S to death with sais ; Joan poisons Lizzie successfully ;  MAGGIE AMBUSHES PARR AND MURDERS HER ; Maggie dies from infection ; Eddie sings himself to sleep ; JOAN KILLS HENRAT HELL YAS GIRL ; kitty kills Fitzroy ; Joan goes fishing ; KITTY AND JOAN HUDDLE ; KITTY THEN BASHES JOAN’S SKULL WITH A ROCK ; Eddie dies of hunger ; culpeper murders Kitty for supplies ; Culpeper wins

all i have to say is.. JOAN SHOULD HAVE WON

@homosixual-dumbass ​

#six #six musical #six the musical #Tudor!HungerGames #tudor #Cathrine of Aragon #anne boleyn #jane seymour #anna of cleves #Anne of Cleves #anna von kleve #Kathrine Howard #Kitty Howard #khoward #cathy parr #catherine parr #maggie lee #maggie on the guitar #margret lee #joan on the keys #joan meutas #bessie blount #bessie on the bass #elizabeth blount #maria de salinas #maria on the drums #henry Vlll #henry viii #henRAT #henry manox

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 22 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Loki thought about what needed to be done. He was apprehensive. After everything, this would be so different, but he had to do it, for Jotuheim. He walked through the halls thinking through everything. When he got to Ella’s rooms, he thought over everything for a moment before knocking on her door. There was no response, causing him to knock again. When he was met with no answer, he contemplated his options. Thinking if he should enter and wait for her, wait outside for her, or go in search of her. He turned to leave just as the door opened, revealing a drenched Ella to him. “Oh?”

“Is everything alright?” She ensured only her head was viewable to him.

“I need to speak with you.”

Ella looked both directions before opening the door to allow him in.

When Loki entered, he looked at her confused. She was soaking wet, a light robe over her, the water very much making it somewhat translucent. “I...Is there someone else here?”

Ella looked at him in confusion. “Not that I am aware of?”

“Why are you wet?”

“I was having a bath?” She looked over herself. “I would have thought that to be obvious.” She pursed her lips and sighed. “I must admit, your swiftness to suggest such says a lot. I had begun to think we were past this nonsense.”

Loki thought to make a retort, but he thought better of it. “I apologise. I am negating everything. Please, forgive my foolishness. I do not wish to sabotage this, I came to speak with you on a serious matter.”

“Which is?”

“The Vanir.”

“What of them?”

“They are inviting us to join them for some event, a...Ost…”

“Ostara, yes, a significant festival there. I didn’t realise it was that time of year again.” Ella smiled. She noted Loki’s confused face. “Ostara is a fertility festival. It is to hope for a good year, they have this interesting symbolism for it, eggs, for obvious reasons, and rabbits, because of their high fertility.”

“What are rabbits?”

For a moment, Ella thought Loki to be jesting, but seeing his confusion, she remembered that Jotunheim did not have such a creature. Thinking better than to simply describe it, she used her seidr to conjure one. “This is a rabbit. It is fast and has multiple litters of young a year, each litter containing several young, the gestation period is also notably swift also.” She used her seidr to clothe herself, noting she was starting to get cold. “It is interesting, of course, that they request this now. Why now? Is it for consideration to the differences in heat, Vanaheim of course, being incredibly warm in summer, this is the best time to ask for a visit before the forced delay of several months? Is it because there is something more afoot, I wonder.” She paced as she spoke. “My parents always go. Is it a form of extension through them. Is it to have Vanaheim be the first realm to host Jotunheim after everything, what is their motive?”

“Is the king not some relative of yours?” Loki hampered a guess.

“Yes, but that means nothing. I met him six times in my life, none of those meetings lasting longer than a few days. I know nothing of him. If he walked past me, I would hardly know him. I would definitely think him to not know me.” She shook her head. “No, there is something more to this. Something I cannot think of yet. When are you to leave?”

Loki was startling by her manner of thinking of this. “The end of the week. We need to prepare.”

“Who is to go?”

“Byleistr’s second mate I never knew about is due to come to heat, he will not leave her.”

“No, of course not. They must endeavour to conceive, it could not be expected. May the Norns grant them favour for it.”

Loki nodded, startled again that she thought such a thing, considering she had not conceived and knowing the pressure on them, now more than ever. He had seen other mates get envious when such occurred, even if they were not a mate of those involved, Ella seemed to genuinely wish them luck. “So Bindi, obviously.” Ella smiled at Loki’s affectionate name for his brother. “They do not realise that Father has cast me from being his heir, so I am called upon.”

“Laufey will return your position to you, he is just trying to get you to better yourself first.” She assured him. “Why else would he have you preside over court? No, fear not. You will have your crown.”

“We don’t have crowns.”

“I know.”

“You seem so certain.”

“Father did it with Thor too. Would you believe there was a time my brother was even more immature?” Loki looked at her worriedly. “Yes, he was. He went to Midgard and had something that can only be described as a tantrum, the likes of which little children have, and Father officially declared him not to be his heir, that a law would be altered to make me his heir. That caused uproar, as you can imagine. My brother, however, saw my father was not lying and realised he needed to show my father he could do it. He is not ready yet to take the throne, but he is more mature than he was. He will mature more with time. Laufey will be the same. He knows you are the best choice, he simply wants to teach you a lesson. Figure it out and accept your fault, show him you are fighting to change it and he will declare you as such once more.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“What makes you think he will not?”

“I just accused you of having another here even when you never gave any indication of such.”

“You are not perfect, Loki, but you are learning, he sees that.”

“I am sorry.” She gave a small smile. “I have not…”

“I know.” Loki frowned. “I am good at telling when people are being dishonest.” She smirked. “You better prepare to leave.”

“Actually, the invitation is to you too. That is what I came here to say.”

“Oh, I see." She thought for a moment. "It appears I have to prepare for our departure."

"Yes." Loki nodded slightly. "And again, I apologise for that."

Ella gave a polite smile. "For what?"

Loki thought for a moment that she was being ridiculous, but he then realised what she was implying. "Thank you."

"Will I see you for dinner?"

"You will."

Ella gave him a genuine smile. "I look forward to it."

Loki felt a slight gripe in his stomach at her saying that, not knowing why her saying such would affect him like that.

*

"Norms," Helbindi moaned. "How is anywhere this hot?"

Loki and Ella looked at him sympathetically. With a flick of her wrist, Ella caused a green glow to go around the Jotnar, causing them all to look at her worriedly before they realised what she had done. "Better?" She asked.

"Thank you." Arden bowed slightly.

"It would not do to be entirely out of your element. I am just grateful we do not have to come later in the year. It gets far warmer than this. It is not made for Jotnar."

Loki looked at Arden for a moment, who nodded in return. Both wondering the same thing. Was there anything of a comment on her own situation in her words.

They arrived at the location where the Vanir were waiting, both parties looking at one another apprehensively.

Ella urged Loki forward with her seidr, he looked at her worriedly, wondering how she was able to make him move with her magic. She merely smiled politely in return and took a step forward to stand by his side. Taking her lead, he walked forward.

"Prince Loki, of Jotunheim." The man to the front of the Vanir declared loudly. "And Princess Ella of Asgard."

"Sir Gregor Culpepper, King Wilhelm's head advisor," Ella whispered to her husband while they walked towards him.

Loki took on board her words. "Sir Gregor, thank you for meeting us here," Loki replied.

"Well, on a momentous occasion like this, it is imperative that we start right."

"I agree." Loki concurred.

"Though, if I may point out, for announcing our arrival, I would rather be addressed as being of my husband's realm, as is tradition," Ella smiled. The advisor looked at her somewhat confused.  "I am now Ella of Jotunheim, not Asgard."

Loki looked at her, slightly startled that she declared such so openly.

"As you wish, your Highness, my apologies. I did not intend to offend."

"Not at all. Tell me, how are the apple blossom this year, have they began to bloom yet?"

Loki felt himself being forced to hide a chuckle as he recognised her polite manner of changing a conversation when she decided she would speak no more on a matter.  

The advisor began to speak of the trees she referenced, becoming engrossed in the matter as they made their way to the Vanir palace. Loki, Arden and Helbindi realising fairly quickly that Ella distracting the Vanir advisor from boring them with some other inconsequential matter.

#Loki #others #submission #submitted fic #chapter 22 #pride and prejudice #wolfpawn

[firedawnd]

Breathe for Them (Six)

This is my take on Katherine Howard’s story historically. (Yes it’s here finally). As is usual for Katherine Howard's origin stories, it will be angsty/painful/just… all of it. I just couldn’t get this out of my head, just like how I can’t get All You Wanna Do out of my head…

Heavy trigger warnings for rape, victim-blaming, denigration of rape victims (a lot), gaslighting, and suicidal ideation.

~

First there was Mannox. He was a music teacher her father had hired. He began right away, showing her lutes and virginals and how to use them. She didn’t think she’d learn other things as well.

Your nimble fingers, he would praise. Katherine would blush every time. But sometimes, she’d fumble over the notes, get some wrong. Then his eyes would shift. No, that is not how you do it. Let me try.

(She does not remember when she starts screaming in her sleep. But, if Katherine were to point where it all began, then she would point here.)

.

She’s sent to the Dutchess of Dowager. That is where she meets Francis Dereham.

The men have a set of keys for the girls’ bedchambers. They enter every fortnight. They always looked hungry—their eyes change, like animals. Katherine would hear squeals, and screams, and the noises would blur so that she could not tell if they were exuberant or terrified.

She loves Dereham. He sneaks into the chambers every night. Just to see you, he would say. I would get in trouble just for you. Katherine knows what he needs from her. She thanks him—profusely, of course, and then his eyes go a shade black. He starves every night for you, of course she loves him.

He gives her a hundred pounds to remain in place and to wait for him as he goes away to Ireland. She latches onto him. He, she tells the girls, giddy, look at all he does for me! She was the star of his life. She was who he revolved around. He tells her: you are my wife. She replies: I am your wife.

They are married: they are as-good-as. He loves her and she does him. He loves her every night and she lets him. He razes her like an animal; he tears her apart, rips her open, and she bites down her screams so hard she draws blood.

He is always happy after and kisses her forehead. Thanks her profusely, after. As she shivers on her bed and waits until she is less-in-pain to clean up his mess.

(Katherine Howard does not have a term for what Francis Dereham does to her until 600 years later; gaslighting, they call it now.)

.

She’s brought up-high in Court. Her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, says: you should serve Anna of Cleves, the soon-to-be Fourth Wife of Henry. So she does.

Anna is kind to her, and Katherine has her ear. She listens to Anna rant about Henry: he dressed himself up and pounced on me with kisses—the first time he saw me!

She curses away in German: words so excoriating that would kill even in tone.

Katherine doesn’t think it’s really allowed, but Anna does not care. Katherine likes that about her. She does not care about what they say. They will not force Anna into anything. Anna would not let them.

Soon, Anna divorces Henry, and Katherine has no Queen to wait to. She remains in Court. But her rise is fast because she catches Henry’s eye. He turns his love to her: she is not like any other woman. She is his jewel of womanhood. She is his.

Her family is happy: they tell you to keep captivating the King. Keep doing what it is you are doing, they tell her. Keep his interest. Make him marry you. She swallows the traces of resistance in her. She lets it fall under the sea’s tides. She lets it rest with the corpses under.

He marries her. Their ceremony is on the day she turns seventeen; Cromwell is executed the same day for raising Anna to be Henry’s royal Queen. Henry, after it is all said and done, imposes a motto on her. No other wish but his.

Her family celebrates. Look! Katherine Howard is the new Queen. She brings honour to our family, to the royal name. Look— her beauty, her power, her ability! She has seduced the King.

.

And then she catches Culpepper’s.

.

They blackmail her first. Your past, Katherine, they suggest to her in their eyes. Your “perfect honesty”, Katherine. Your immaculate purity. 

So she raises them in Court. Joan Bulmer. Francis Dereham. There is a cascade of names—she stops keeping track after the fifth, six letter.

They populate the Court. They thank her profusely. They ask favours. They have a glint in their eyes that tells her what will happen if she doesn’t listen.

Culpepper watches her. One day, he sends her a letter: he mentions Dereham’s name. He asks to meet. She goes. He asks again. And again. And again. She brings Jane Rochford along: she can’t be alone with him. Not again; not anymore.

It escalates. Until she has to pen letters to him. Back-and-forth. Promising herself to him; for a secret he would so easily tell. 

(Sometimes, Katherine wonders, when Henry’s gone and she’s alone at night: how did she get here? How is she here? How was she— left up-high, with only shadows and men for company.)

.

(This is when Katherine realises. She is a rose without a thorn because she does not resist. She only has beauty; she has no barbs. She is only passive; she will not fight back. Not against their will. That is all they value in her life.)

.

Her uncle turns his back on her first. You deserve to be burned, he says, begging Henry to let him stay in the position he is in. He knew nothing of your whorish games.

Her family, lavish in Henry’s goods, fall away from her next. One after another, they promise: they knew nothing of your promiscuity. Knew nothing about your past. Knew nothing of your whorish games.

Her Court rises against her; in waves and waves of opposition, of theories, of rumours and of truths. That wanton-slut. I saw her let Dereham pull her dress above her naval. I hear she forced Culpepper to love her, that lewd and naughty Queen. How she bends the honour of men! Was she still such a prostitute then? She appointed us at Court. Just how stupid is she? To think that we wouldn’t let the truth spiral?

She seduced Culpepper. Empty-headed sexpot. She was the aggressor, not the victim. What a common whore. We knew about your games, Katherine. You cannot hide any longer.

They leave. They leave her with Mannox and Dereham and Culpepper and Henry. (No—stop—please. She wasn’t—no, she can’t—)

They leave her with their words and a scoff. They leave her with a mirror and a reflection of a whore. They strip her: her titles, her royalty, her name, her dignity, her value, her self-worth, her life—

Until she is naked, and shivering, and alone. With only demons and men for company at night.

.

Say she married Francis Dereham and she’ll live. She’ll be exiled, and disgraced, and slandered, and excoriated, and alone for the rest of her life. But she’ll be alive.

(Katherine was fifteen when she made him promise. He had money, and her father was struggling to keep your family afloat. She needed to marry to support them. Mannox couldn’t marry her, after all. And Dereham wanted her.)

He will live. He raped her. He will be honoured. He will live with her. He will rise. He will touch her every night.

“We are married,” she would say, “valid in the Church’s eyes.” He would agree. They would agree, too. Nobody sees her mind. Her past. Her life.

They’ll pardon her. They’ll say: fine. They’ll force you to live with him. They’ll force you to be there with him. They’ll force you back on his bed and force you to bleed. To the end of your life.

(When they ask Katherine whether if there was a precontract—that is when she first fights back.)

.

She is in the Tower of London.

(Cranmer had entered, the hours before dusk settled into night. Pity awash on his face; he had taken every sharp object from the prison. He saw the knife, gripped tight, and his face fell. He tugged it from her, whispering: Katherine, please. Let me have that.

If you’d truly pitied me, she cried back, then you would let me have my knife.)

Shadows play with the moonlight. They dance upon her fingers; sway with the words the night whispers. This is your fate, Katherine. Your deserving fate. For all your sin: you must die.

No, she is terrified. It is her end—she is terrified. She is nineteen. She barely lived a life. (But— didn’t she? She had four men in her life already, at her tender age. She had married the King. She was draped in riches, in titles, in glory. She had lived her best life. Was it not her fault that it fell away?)

Tomorrow would be her day of death.

She cannot scream. She mustn’t: it is not dignified, it does not suit a Queen. She must die with honour. She must.

A stone, she asks, hoarsely. Please. I need to practice.

.

She is led up the dais, examined by the eyes of the waiting crowd. They must see her: and the words of rumours, of truths, must reverberate in their head. Katherine cannot bring herself to look at them.

She is familiar with the slab of stone there. They let her walk of her own accord, but she knows if she slows even in a step, their pikes will jab her back. So she keeps the queenly pretence. She maintains that this is of her own will, as much as it is theirs. She walks.

They are cold, at least. The crowd. Their eyes run over her. Hungry. For her last words to sate their appetite. For her to see Christ and his justice. For her eyes.

She exhales the words. Henry. Praise for Henry. When all she wants to do is scream.

Katherine is steadfast. She speaks; yet, her eyes speak for her. I didn’t do it because I wanted to. They wanted to. They wanted me to.

Please understand. 

She forgives the executioner. He promises her a fast death: she nods, as she closes her eyes, and he blindfolds her. She’ll meet him in heaven; if heaven is just.

Katherine is led to the block. She positions her head, like how she remembers it in practice: die dignified, die with honour, die like you still have value, have a name, die like a Queen should, die quiet—without protest, die to his wish, his will.

Do not die screaming.

.

She is dead. She suffuses with the ethereal stink of the dead. She drifts amongst proleptic corpses, of suspended souls. She has her name, she has her life with her. But she is not judged nor condemned. She has no voice, but neither do they. She is not alone with them.

And then she breaks through water—

She lets loose a cry—

And then she’s alive again.

.

She meets Anna again.

Her eyes are wide. Katherine. She says. Katherine remembers the nights spent dancing away; hand-in-hand, shoulders and hips together, through the bass-beats and the soft sounds in the back. Anna, who watches over her in parties she’d go to, that lets Katherine grip her hand whenever men got too close; that snapped back at them whenever they tried anything. Anna of Cleves, respected across England, the once-Queen of Henry’s life.

Oh, sweetheart, Anna says. Her eyes glint: how did we get here? they ask, and she feels a cough, a choke, rest heavily in her throat.

(Katherine wonders if she knows about the—the promiscuity, about the unfaithfulness, about everything they said about her, Katherine Howard, Henry’s Fifth Queen. Whore, disgraced, slut, all of England and then the world beyond; Henry and historians and commonfolk and the rest of them—)

Anna envelops Katherine in a hug. Katherine sobs, quietly, in her shoulder. You’re okay now, Anna whispers into her ear. Don’t cry, Katherine. You’re okay now.

.

She learns. She learns about her past life.

Anna of Cleves teaches her. So does Catherine Parr (who always looks sorry for her after they meet): they guide her. They bring her Agrippa’s treatise about women, first, and then modern books about equality. They coax her out of the ideas of what the men tell her she should be then, of the teachings of Vives, of the internalized condemnations from the Schole House of Women. Aragon hands her leaflets about gaslighting and holds Katherine’s gaze, tells her to ask if there’s anything she doesn’t understand. Jane buys her tales of survivors, and leaves them inside an opaque shelf in Katherine’s room, for whenever she is ready to open them.

And Katherine learns about herself.

Katherine Howard is killed because Mannox took advantage of her, because she is raped by Francis Dereham, because she is forced to marry the King. She lived in a society that wanted women to be silent, obedient, and shamefast. That blamed women for the things men did.

Is this true? she says to Anna, to Parr, to Aragon, to Jane, to Boleyn. She felt her eyes glimmer—that it was truly not my fault?

It was, they say, for all of us.

There are books and stories and made-up things about her. There are historians that call her frivolous, empty-headed, and a prostitute. There are legends and there are tales. She said: I die a Queen, but I would’ve rather died a wife of Culpepper.

She wants to scream. He was a rapist and a murderer and she was raped, for god’s sake—why the hell would she want to be his wife? And Dereham—that she was raped was ignored, that she stated so was ignored, that she denied a precontract was chalked up to stupidity, that she did not love him: forgotten. That she was a seducer of Mannox; that she was a child, gone.

(Was it so hard for them to say: it was not your choice?)

She screams in her dreams, now. The voices which she had suppressed in her life before, release. She screams when Mannox, when Dereham, when Culpepper, when Henry appears in them. She thrashes and hits and curses with what she could not, before. She wants them to know that they are unwelcome in her head.

There are legends. Elizabeth, age 8, refuses to marry after Katherine’s death.

.

Before, Katherine had thought that Anna of Cleves would not let anybody force her into anything. She realises now that that is not entirely true. They forced her to come to England. Forced her to marry Henry. And forced a divorce as well. Anna of Cleves is just like her; and so are the other Queens.

Catherine of Aragon was forced out of her marriage, because of Henry’s wants. Her cousin, Anne Boleyn, died because she was too forceful, too sharp-tongued, because she had wants of her own. Jane only lived because she was quiet, and even then she ceded to Henry’s wishes in the end. Parr had to apologise to Henry in order to keep herself alive, because she had thoughts of her own and was willing to argue about them.

They were pushed. They were forced. They had to be subservient to live. That was their stories. But this is another life—a new life. They have new stories now, and they have their memories and their lives. They can reclaim their own stories again.

They will sing, they think. They will sing their stories out and no longer would anyone be able to revise them again. And Katherine will say what she wants. She will say her truth. The truth. No matter what. No longer can they be quiet. Not any longer. Not anymore.

The nightmares—the past—persists. It is an unending cycle that leaves her in sweat and terror, in a helplessness she detests. But the other Queens come by, every night, to wake her during her nightmares. Anne Boleyn, her cousin, sleeps by Katherine’s side, to comfort her when she is away. Every-time she wakes: she remembers where she is. Who she has by her side. She remembers that she is safe, and she is alive. Despite how hard it is to breathe.

She will keep breathing again.

fin.

~

A/N! Please keep reading, because this will be an interesting one. :)

First of all, major thanks to: the research paper “Jewel of Womanhood: A Feminist Reinterpretation of Queen Katherine Howard”. I couldn’t’ve written this fic without.

Anyway, you could say that this is my take on Katherine Howard’s history. Certain parts aren’t exactly historically-accurate (ie. Culpepper met Katherine while she was serving Anna of Cleves) and/or are theoretical, but I’ve tried to portray the sequence of events as accurately as possible. My main focus was on rape and the dimensions of victim-blaming, and how it applies to Katherine Howard.

The insults during Katherine's internal monologue were from noted historians: “wanton-slut”, “stupid and oversexed adolescent,” “this adolescent sexpot,” (Loades), “empty-headed” [“it was not long before Katherine Howard revealed herself as a frivolous, empty-headed young girl who cared for little else but dancing and pretty clothes.”] (Weir), a “42nd Street girl” (aka a “prostitute”) (Starkey), and a “common whore” (Smith). Additionally, views about how Katherine “more than likely seduced [Thomas Culpepper]” and “was clearly the aggressor, not the victim…” is quoted from Smith and Erickson’s view. Finally, the “lewd and naughty behaviour of the Queen”, and the idea of women “bending the honour of men" was a letter to Henry from Francis I of France.

There are also a few things mentioned in the fic that I’ll explain here:

The “Schole House of Women” was a derogatory book about women, which insulted and denounced women as devils and temptresses. Notably, it condemns women who express their anger and frustration out loud, instead of staying silent. It also relieves men of any fault, instead blaming it on the woman. (Even for the time, it was considered a disgusting/horrific piece of literature.)

It was published in 1542, the year Katherine was executed, so it’s unlikely that she would have actually read it — but I felt that the contents/ideas of the book were quite relevant to the fic as it shows the situation at the time and would influence + explain the ways Katherine thought through the fic.

Also: Agrippa. You could basically describe Agrippa as a contemporary feminist of the time. In his book (“a treatise of the nobilities and excellence of womankind”), he rebuts Schole House, states that women are equal to men (and some of the ways they are superior), and he believed that women were God’s last (and therefore best) creation. Real cool dude there.

This is it for this fic for now! I have a few fics planned later on, which will 100% be a lot lighter than this one here (hint: gayness lmao), and if you have prompts, do send them over. :D I literally would die for your thoughts and comments, so if you feel so kind to leave them… I’ll be prepping my soul up for offerings here.

#six the musical #katherine howard #six the musical fanfic #my fics