#i think catherine too would be soft. i know shes kind of a freak but ugh . i want them to be happy

[cehc]

in the mirror world in my head they were able to be tender and loving to each other

#my art #skiaoura #limbus company #catherine lcb #like i know they never Did anything but imagine #i have always been a firm believer in tender heathcliff and this canto and his announcer just made him even more.. like aaahhahhHHHHHHHHHH #i think catherine too would be soft. i know shes kind of a freak but ugh . i want them to be happy

[janeyseymour]

I saw the second preview of six and here are my thoughts (along with a few fun stories at the end):

My heart literally fell out of my ass when the queens started walking out They changed a few small little things here and there and it was perfect If six doesn’t win best lighting at the Tony’s I will sue Ex-wives was WOW I literally could not stop smiling Some of the poses were different 

ADRIANNA FREAKING NAILED NO WAY

I am convinced she just is beyonce always

She’s just fantastic in that role and that’s what I have to say about that

Ig abby danced a little too hard during no way because she kept messing with her wig after

Actually she lowkey played with it throughout the whole show and it was adorbs

Britt was helping her fix it and like pointing out where it was a little cray (also abby’s wig looks so good omf)

ANDREA IS- WOAH DURING DLYH

Her delivery throughout the whole show was a bit more mature, but it was still so babey I love her

(On a side note someone today told me I look like Andrea, which is very kind but so untrue because I literally look like a broken thumb and she is gorgeous)

Her “IM NOT SORRY” was amAZING

She like low-key cut made the whole head joke short and im kinda sad ab it, but it was still fantastique

Through the “Wearing Yellow To A Funeral Bit” abby looked confused through the entire thing and I was cracking up

HEART OF STONE HOLY SHIT

She was INCREDIBLE and her dress was so pretty and sparkly and I just wow 

Shes just so pretty in general like ma’am how do you do that please drop the skin care routine 

The emotion that was conveyed was enough to make me tear up BUT I DID NOT CRY AND I AM VERY PROUD OF THAT 

she did the “you lift me high” line and kinda went into this airy place in her voice and it was angelic and heavenly and all the good things

HER RIFFS WERE JUST DFJDHJLFH

She was just fantastic and thats all I have to say 

Thats a lie I have so many things to say about that woman but the time will come

HOH was a whole acid trip there was a point during this song where I literally just took it all in and then thought “Janey, you really spent your hard earned money to go on an acid trip for a solid few minutes good job”

Their dancing is hilarious and thats that

ABBY SAYING “BUT WE CANNOT GUARANTEE THAT YOU’LL STILL WALK AT FORTY” I had to stifle a laugh because my queen is indeed 40

THE GERMAN ACCENTS HAD ME QUAKING

Brittney Mack is… all bad bitch energy and I was living for it

She is a queen

When she did the “my horses can trot up to twelve miles an hour”- in the boot (not that I watch those…) abby is always making a 😳😶😲 kind of face and this time she just couldn’t stop smiling and it made me laugh

WOOF

Her reveal was SO GOOD she literally just started checking out her nails while everyone just applauded… AS THEY SHOULD

When britt told the person to get up, this person full on WENT and britt was like shook it was hysterical

THE INTERLUDE BETWEEN GET DOWN AND THEN KAT’S ROAST WAS ICONIQUE

i dont think it was here but I cant remember where it was but BRITT WAS PLAYING WITH ABBY’S WIG AND IT WAS REALLY CUTE SHE WAS LIKE PLAYING WITH THE ENDS OF IT AND AWH

justice for the beheaded cousins 

BOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOO BABY MARY HAD THE CHICKEN POX AND YOU DIDN’T GET TO HOLD HER HAND… YOU KNOW ITS FUNNY BECAUSE WHEN I WANTED TO HOLD MY NEWBORN SON…. IIIIII DIIIIIIEDD. Abby lowkey went feral and I loved every second of it and then her pose after got so many laughs it was truly amazing

THE K HOWARD ROAST WAS JUST SO GOOD IT WAS SO GOOD

Aywd destroyed me

I also teared up here but I did not let those babies fall because I was not about to ruin my look

justice for my pink queen

Her delivery is insane and honestly its gotten better and I didn’t even know that was possible because WOW SHE WAS ALREADY STUNNING BUT DAMN MY HEART GOT RIPPED OUT OF MY CHEST

The whole “Catherine not singing” bit was fantastic

Abby looked so confused the entire time 

Andrea’s “hahaha what” was perfecto 

when Anna said “should we really be doing this” someone in the audience went “yes” very loudly and made the queens break for a solid second abby almost forgot to say her line and you could barely hear it because the audience was laughing at the rando 

Anna acknowledged it and just went “I know” before turning to the queens and saying “I know” it was hysterical 

“I’m Catherine parr, I draw the line in arbitrary places bLaH bLaH bLaH”

THE CLAPPING- BRITT GOT IN HER FACE AND JUST *CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.”  It was the funniest thing oh my gosh

“Are you sure Catherine? I-we don’t mind if you wanna sit this one out… I mean you must be exhausted from all those backing vocals”

IDNYL WAS INSANE AND ANNA UZELE IS WICKED TALENTED LIKE DANG

I dont know if this was intentional or not but when they all start to understand the purpose of parr’s thing- abby is the last to stand up and in my head im like “no yeah that makes sense because shes “the one he truly loved” and shes still trying to get to a point where shes realizing he wasn’t all that great and I dont know I just really like that minor detail

The whole “remember that I was a writer…” part got loud cheers, especially from abby it was very cute

She did a new riff on the “we all disappear” line and WOW my eyes went so wide it was so good I was genuinely shook

the “i dont get it” was sooo good

“My sixth finger” was said so casually and so determinedly that it was a whole new joke and I loved it

“Everyone notices Jane cant dance” -abby just looking so sad

“Yeeeaaaahhhhh. I read!” Was so cute and she sounded so proud of herself it was adorbs

The way they just stood there awkwardly was amazing and got so many laughs it was so good

When sam said the line about competing, abby really almost cut Anna’s line out but she caught herself and it was funny I dont know if anyone else noticed it, but I did and it was glorious

REMIX

“Rise abo-o-o-o-ove” WAS BEAUTIFUL THEY WERE IN SUCH GOOD HARMONY

AGAIN, ANNA’S RIFFS HOW DOES THAT WOMAN DO THAT AT THE END OF THE SHOW LIKE SHIT

After it was over, of course it got long applause and the entire time abby was doing her like “sparkle hands” but also awkwardly moving her arm kinda like a noodle and then going back to sparkle hands and it gave me a good chuckle

Six

The slow acoustic part was so soft I died

The harmonies was delicious

The audience was so hype

Megasix

Super hype

Amazing

Fantastic

All the good things ever

Basically it was just adorable and amazing and absolutely stunning

The new costumes are gorgeous and the lighting is wild if they don’t win best lighting for Tony awards I will full on riot

Aragon and Boleyn interacted a lot and so did Seymour and Cleves and it was very very sweet

Abby interacted with the band a lot to the point where she almost missed a cue and it was very endearing

AND THEN THEY DID THE CURTAIN UP THING AND FIRST OF ALL WOW THEY ARE ALL SO CUTE AND IT WAS SO SWEET SEEING THE WAY THEY ALL WATCHED EACH OTHER WHILE THEY WERE SINGING AND I JUST JDKFDJLA

abby’s hair is SO LONG but I am here for it

So I was looking for my friend when I hear “Make some room, make a path!” From a security guard, and the queens legit walked RIGHT PAST ME

I wanted to go to the theatre anyway to take pictures, but when I saw them, I did follow them back to the theatre because wow I wanted to bask in their glory I didnt even want to talk to them I just wanted to be in their presence

So im like, walking behind them when this happens:

I guess abby saw someone she knew because I heard this “abby!” And then she was like “OH MY GOD” and like RAN to hug them and i legit almost walked right into her/got stepped on but i freaking stopped like a noob i should’ve just let her run me over but I did not I just stopped in my tracks and let out a soft “aH” and then went around her

And then I got to meet a friend and apparently toby heard us squealing and watched us hug for a solid however long so that was awkward

And Julia schade was like talking to him and stared at us for a good amount of time

And then I was walking away and passed Julia again and she kept looking at me, but she was talking to someone else and I think she thought I was going to stay to talk to her (and I would have loved to) but I didnt I just gave her a smile, a nod, and a little wave because I can not do confrontation like if I could not confront abby ma’am I cannot confront u either I am SHY

And that is a very detailed run down of my time in nyc at the brooks

#six the musical #six broadway #six the musical cast #adrianna hicks #andrea macasaet #abby mueller #brittney mack #sam pauly #samantha pauly #anna uzele #new york city #broadway #hairspray musical #theatre #theater

[sixislegit]

hello !

here is a story I just posted on Wattpad. ! my user is @ sixthefanfic . I will be posting fanfics there lots.

nicknames :

catalina / katherine of aragon - Lina

Anne Boleyn - Annie ( only really by jane & kitty )

Jane seymour - Janey ( sometimes mama by kitty )

Anna of cleves - Cleves or A

Katherine howard - Kitty / kat

Catherine parr - Cathy / cath

words :

Madrina : Godmother

mi hija : my daughter

mi corazón. : my heart

française : french

The day would start as you'd expect, just like any other normal, family household.

Catalina, was the first to pad down the stairs, her thick curly waves of ombre hair bouncing with each step she took. The small silver crucifix that hung around her neck swayed also with the soft steps she took. There was nothing important she had to do, rather she enjoyed being the first to wake up, get a slice of pure silence to look out at the fresh day, before the chaos would awake. As Catalina stood, or 'Lina' as the other five most liked to call her, staring out to the street they lived on, though not much of the street itself was seen, as the queen's home had a rather large, and long drive. Neatly decorated with red roses, and white daisies, the grass was neat, well watered, and it flourished. Thanks to Jane, who had become a devoted gardener. Though the front yard was a sight to see, the backyard was even sweeter. Set that displayed sweet hidden picnic spots, a pool, and a beautiful flower & vegetable garden. Becoming lost in her train of thought, a new voice slowly swept into her thoughts, causing her to turn, facing a woman of similar height.

"Good morning Madrina." it was Cathy, it was easy to know who it was, not only did her puffy lion mane of curls give it away, she was the only one to call Catalina Madrina, as it meant "God parent" and Catalina was appointed Cathy's godmother way back when she was born, 1512, her mother personally appointed the queen at the time as the godmother, Cathy's maternal mother who was a close loyal lady to Catalina during her reign. As well, Cathy was named Catherine , as namesake of Catherine ( Catalina ) of Aragon, as a show of loyalty and compassion to England's Spanish queen.

"mi corazón." Catalina sighed contentedly , as her god daughter stood in front of her. "I hope you slept well, mi hija" though as much as Catalina could hope, her god daughter had awful sleeping patterns, due to her never ending passion to write, or read. Tending to make her stay up late into the night, and early into the morning.

"I suppose I did, a new book comes out a week from now, it looks amazing, so I figured I must get it." Cathy responded, as she looked down at the book currently in hand, one of her fingers slipped in a page, keeping its place. Like she had lost her book mark, and her finger was the next best option. "I hope you slept well too."

" I did, very well indeed." Catalina responded, taking a sip from the mug that had been warming her hands, Cathy had turned away, most likely heading for the kitchen to make coffee, or even tea. Cathy was hooked on tea, just as Jane was. So it was no surprise to see Jane poke her head around the corner with an exhausted smile on her face.

"Morning Lina!" Jane said, her tone was warm, and kind. Yet the sleep and desire for rest was there, lingering in the back, as Jane let out a soft yawn, continuing to smile at the eldest queen.

'Rough night? Jane darling you look exhausted." Catalina sighed, as she walked into the kitchen, placing her mug down on the counter, to cup Jane's face.

"I suppose you could call it rough, poor kitty had another nightmare, third time this week. And it took even longer to get her back to sleep, let alone remember where she was and that she was safe." Jane replied, allowing Lina to cup her face gently, though she was unsure whether to stare directly at the older women, or look away.

Catalina would only sigh in response, tilting her head as a sweet, soft smile crept onto her tanned face. Jane was the motherly friend. She always helped others, comforted them, and made sure they were ok, but Jane also needed someone to look out for her. Catalina had taken on that role for her. Seeing as she already does the same for Cathy, plus it was stressful on Janes behalf, who had taken the heart to look out for Anne & Kitty. Gently Catalina stroked Jane's cheek, earning a kind smile from Jane, who stared sweetly into Catalinas eyes, before moving away as her tea was ready.

Anna of Cleves was next to come downstairs.already dressed for the day, wearing a pair of red cargo pants, and a black t-shirt. It was rare to ever see anna in the mornings still in her sleepwear, she was always ready mainly because most mornings she would get up very early, and go to the gym or go for a run, which gave her the excuse to shower and already be changed by the time the clock striked 7. Anna wore a small smile, nothing to cheery though, as she made her way to the kitchen to begin breakfast. Cooking had become Anna's job, not by force. But by choice. The tall dark women had come to enjoy the task of food, though she only ever made breakfast and dinner. It was normally Jane's thing to make lunch & bake, as Anna could not bake to save her life.

"Morning Anna." Jane was the first to break the silence in the kitchen, as she grabbed her mug containing her warm tea, she sipped it quietly, awaiting a response.

'Morning." Anna replied quickly, as she cracked eggs into the frying pan, and grabbed her cooking tools.

"Has anyone seen the other two?" Jane carried on, looking into the lounge not seeing the cousins tucked up together like normal, which only made Jane worry further.

"Nope. Last time I heard Anne was snoring, that was when I walked past her room." Cathy added, not even looking up from her book, her eyes were too glued to her page, desperately needing to know what lies in the next chapter that she was so close to.

"Its nice, I must be honest. The house is still quiet, apart from natural sounds." Catalonia spoke, mentioning sounds like the birds chirping outside, the wind blowing calmly, and the fry pan, that was cooking the food. "I don't mind this, why can't we always have this.." she smiled, as she sipped her tea.

Next thing they knew, their peace was broken, as Anne came sprinting down the stairs, jumping the last three steps to land on the floor, dragging her poor tired cousin along with her.

"GOOD MORNING BESTIES!" Anne yelled, as she made it to the bottom of the steps, pulling a much smaller girl beside her.

"And there she is." Catalina sighed, as she took her mug, and went over to her special arm chair, which had a good view of the backyard.

Jane smiled, then peeking around Jane's side, her heart even sighed, but picked up as the sight of a tired, looking kitty made her burst. All queens had agreed, kitty was very cute, and sweet in most things she does.

" Kitty, little love good morning." Jane spoke softly, looking down at the brunette girl who had strips of her hair hanging loose from her ponytail, like she had been pulling at them, making them fall from the secured band in her hair. She earned no response, but a small smile, as kitty broke lose of Anne's grip, and toted over to her mother, and quickly latched on, clinging to her with a hug. Jane kissed the girls head, and smoothed her hair, before putting her cup down, and lifting the girl into her arms. All thanks to Kitty's extremely small figure, she was easy to lift, and carry. As Jane & Kitty's bond was deep, each saw the other as mother or daughter, and had formed such a bond you would be amazed to find they weren't what they seemed. Kitty never minded being picked up, it was just another way of safety, and love. So she lay her head down on Jane's shoulder, listening as Jane whispered a few words into her ear, continuing to kiss the girls head, and sway side to side. Not only was she extremely light, she was well small for a seventeen year old girl.

"What's on the agenda today huh? Roller blading? Archery? SWORD FIGHTING?" Anne grinned, as she walked away from Jane and kitty, over to the kitchen island where she would dramatically lay her top half body over, earning a glare from Anna who was busy finishing the food.

"Causingabsolutechaosinthehousetohavefunbecausenoneofthesepeopleknowwhatfunis?" Anne muttered under her breath, her grin turned suspicious, as it always did.

Cathy looked up finally from her book, and shrugged. "No one actually got any plans actually. At least, I don't think. I was going to wander down to the bookshop later, that's what i'll be doing..?" she said, keeping her finger pressed on the page where she was reading earning nothing but a sour sigh from the green girl.

"More books??" Anne huffed

"More books." Cathy responded.

"You have a whole freaking library up in your room! How do you need more freaking books?!" Anne's response earned a small giggle from Anna, who was now plating up food, and taking it to the dining room, Cathy frowned, and shrugged again.

"One can never run out of books." Cathy smiled, as she looked down at her page to begin writing, when Anna called out.

"Breakfast queens!"

Each woman made their way to the table, sitting in their spots, Catalina, Anna, Anne, Jane, Kitty, Cathy. Three on one side, three on another. Each of their eyes set on the food in front of them.

"Thank you Anna, it looks amazing." Peeped Jane, as she picked up her fork, her thanking was followed by everyone else's, as Anna sighed with relief, she looked at everyone.

"You may begin eatin-" she said, but stopped midway as she had already seen Anne finish half of the food she had, Anne looked up and grinned, small bits of egg hung on her face, as she looked back down to continue eating.

"Lovely manners Anne." Catalina said, as she picked up her fork and began eating. Earning a head wiggle from Anne who pulled a face.

"LovElY maNnErs AnnE." Anne mocked. "Shut up Lina, no one asked." Anne spat right back, as she finished her mouthful, and gulped down the glass of orange juice in front of her. While everyone else ate, kitty only picked at her food. Not that she didn't like it, she just never really ate. Because she never found herself dyingly hungry, she ate small pieces, but this whole.. 2000s food made her anxious, they had been in this century for a year already, and had gotten used to most things, but Kat never really seemed to understand the wide variety of food nowadays. Often some foods & their textures set her off, which is why she remained in her comfort zone, with the food she enjoyed eating, and the amounts she could take.

The table was filled with chatter, talking about recent events, or upcoming ideas. Jane and Cathy had stood as they cleared the table, Cathy checking in with Kat last, desperately trying to encourage her to have a bit more, with defeat in her eyes, she looked over to see Jane walking back into the dining room, who only shook her head at Cathy's attempts, which sent the curly haired girl off, packing more things up, and cleaning them away.

"How about we all go down to town, to the bookshop with Cathy?" Jane smiled, as she entered the dining room again, to see Anne talking across the table to Kitty, and Lina & Anna chatting away, though the noise dropped when Jane spoke.

Cathy moved in, and smiled at the idea. "Yes! That sounds amazing, there are lots of shops nearby too, so you wont get as bored."

"But I bet there's no laser tag near it."

"No, there's no laser tag near it Anne." Cathy replied.

"What a load of shit."

"Language."

"English and française"

"Not what I meant."

"I didn't ask."

#six the musical #katherine of aragon #anne boleyn #jane seymour #anna of cleves #katherine howard #catherine parr #sixthemusicalfanfic #sixislegitwrites

[shalebridge-cradle]

When You Smile and it Tears Your Face (It’s Time for the Inhuman Race)

Warnings: Blood. Implied Violence.

“Anna?”

Anna von Kleve, former minor noble of the Holy Roman Empire, pries open her eyes. It’s well into the night – the heavy curtains are drawn, as usual, the grandfather clock is ticking away, and the electric light flickers ominously above her.

She herself is sprawled on the sofa, with her date’s head in her lap. Ah, yes. A night on the town, a few drinks (well, more than a few on her part)… she hopes he’d had a good time.

“In the drawing room,” she calls, lazily.

“Have you seen my book?”

Anna has seen lots of her housemate’s beloved books. So very many volumes she’s collected over the years – in her day, the emperor himself would be hard-pressed to afford such a selection. Still, she’s proud it was a German who invented the printing press and started the whole thing off.

“Which one?”

“Pride and Prejudice, volume three. It’s got a red-brown cover.”

von Kleve frowns, looks around herself, lifts up her date to check under him.

She grimaces.

If the book didn’t have a red cover to begin with, it certainly did now. She never intends for the whole biting-people-and-drinking-their-blood business to be messy, but it always ends up that way. Strange how that happens.

She quickly drops the man’s unconscious body back on top of the book, just as her housemate materialises in the doorway.

Catherine Parr sighs. “Seriously? What have I told you about putting down plastic when you bring your food home?”

“I know, but we get kind of… into it, you know? You know me, I live in the moment – well, not live, but… you get what I’m saying.”

“That’s the problem, hence, the need for plastic.”

A pause.

Anna knows what she’s about to say, and preempts her. “No, not your type. Not terrible, but he couldn’t talk about anything that wasn’t his football team.”

“Oh. A pity.” Another pause. “Have you seen my book, though?”

“No books here. Did you leave it at Seymour’s?”

Parr hums. “Possibly. I’ll visit later. It’s your job to get rid of the poor soul, though.”

“Yes, yes, personal responsibility and all that.”

Before Anna leaves, she tucks the first edition under the sofa cushions, and hopes her housemate doesn’t look that hard for her precious book.

~~~

The shovel plunges deep into the black, wet soil, and out again. In, out, in, out, methodical and practiced. The hole needs to be deep enough, and wide enough. She’s underestimated the size before, and that simply causes problems. There are bits that need to stay underground.

Once she is satisfied, and with great care, Jane Seymour places the rose bush into its new home.

Gardening might be considered an odd hobby for someone like her to have. Even if she rarely gets to see the fruits of her labour (which is most certainly a metaphor for something), it keeps her busy and helps her feel productive. It’s terribly easy to fall into a rut if you don’t have something to do, and caring for plants gives her plenty of that.

Just so long as they survive everything.

There is a loud bang from inside the house. Jane turns briefly, listening for something further, before she goes back to patting down the soil.

Another bang, followed by a crash.

Jane squeezes her eyes shut, and growls under her breath. That had better not be anything important.

Really, she should go in and stop them from doing any more damage, but they’d probably just ignore her like they usually do. Maybe you shouldn’t have your thrice-bedamned battle in the house, where there are things that you both like and are easily breakable all over the place. Is that such an unreasonable concept?

A third bang.

“For heaven’s sake,” she grumbles, and makes to get up, turning to her gardening tools. Initially, she shies away from some of them out of instinct, but… then again… this may the only way they’ll listen…

-

The fearsome duel is still going on when Jane reaches the hall.

One combatant has a name she knows well, mostly because she insists on using the whole thing whenever she is introduced. Catalina Trastámara de Aragón, former Spanish infanta. The other has gone by many different but similar names – Anna de Boullan, Anna Bolina, Nan Bullen, but she generally responds to ‘Anne’, so that’s what they go with.

Catalina has her hand around Anne’s neck, hoisting her up in the air, whilst Anne has a hold on Catalina’s arm, hissing up a storm. Another bang – Catalina slamming Anne against the wall – sends a cloud of dust trickling down on top of them.

Jane enters, in her gardening smock, boots too big for her, a straw hat (you must always wear a hat while gardening, though Jane isn’t sure why), and with a wooden gardening stake in each hand.

“Down! Both of you!”

Anne turns her head slightly, and her eyes widen when she sees what Jane’s holding. “Shit.”

This gets Catalina’s attention, too, but she manages to keep the quiet part quiet. She releases her grip, and Anne sinks to the floor.

“What are you doing?” Catalina recovers her regal demeanour, or at least part of it. “Have you gone quite mad?”

“Have you? Look at what you’re doing! What on earth is noble and queenly about repeatedly smacking your housemate into a wall?!” Jane stops to compose herself. “What is it this time? Territorial dispute? Long-standing grudge you refuse to talk about? Monopoly?”

“Anne? How many glasses would you say are in the sink?”

...No.

Anne rubs her neck. “Well, maybe less if you weren’t such a toff and drank like the rest of us.”

That can’t be right. Was that it?

“Unlike you, I like to keep some of my dignity about me.”

“Oh, don’t you fucking talk to me about dignity -”

Jane is between them in a blink. “Anne, do the bloody dishes.” Anne groans, probably at the unintended pun, but is interrupted. “We have the chore wheel for a reason. We have standards.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I know. Dishes now, fight later.”

Anne huffs, and stomps into the kitchen. Jane’s attention turns to Catalina, who is trying very hard to suppress the smug smile on her face.

“How many languages to you know, Catalina?” She already knows the answer to this question, but Catalina will happily tell her anyway.

“Five. Spanish, Latin, French, Greek, English.”

“Five languages, and you still don’t know how to use your words?”

Catalina simply stares at her.

“You would have been very upset if you knocked any of your paintings down, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but we couldn’t take it outside. You would have been upset if we crushed your plants.”

“Well, that simply reinforces my point. Violence is very rarely the answer when it comes to who you live with.”

“You’re threatening me with a lethal weapon right now.”

Oh, right, she forgot about them. Jane looks down at the stakes, flinches again, and throws them unceremoniously to one side. “Fine. We all need to work on discussing things, and remember we all have our part to play. Anne’s doing the dishes now -” There’s a clatter from the kitchen – “I’ve been taking out the rubbish; can you tell me your royal responsibility, or do I have to check?”

Catalina’s eyes are everywhere but on Jane. She brushes a bit of powder off of her sleeve, and mumbles “Dusting.”

~~~

“Look what I found.”

Parr looks up. It is a whole entire person Anna has come to show off, which usually isn’t something Catherine needs to see – it does not pay to get attached. This girl has her long hair tied up, dyed an almost neon pink at the ends, and is clad in one of Anna’s oversized fur coats. She seems to be faltering under Parr’s gaze, trying to make herself look as small and insignificant as possible.

“I see no plastic in the drawing room,” Catherine says to von Kleve, as a warning.

“What? No! No, no, no. Not that. Big smile, Katie.”

The girl’s lips curl into a rictus grin, revealing a set of fangs not unlike Parr’s own.

“Oh!” Immediately, Catherine’s attitude shifts, and speaks with a soft, comforting voice (she hopes), “Okay, hello. I’m Catherine Parr, of the Westmorland Parrs, and this is Anna von Jülich-Kleve-Berg of the Holy Roman Empire. Neither of us are going to hurt you. Please, take a seat.”

She gestures to a nearby chair. The girl walks over to it, unsteady on her feet, and sits down.

“It’s been a bad week,” she mumbles.

“Tell us about it.”

“Well, it started with a night I couldn’t remember, which always freaks me out, and then I was really sick, and then I’m pretty sure I died – no, I did die… I died…” She goes quiet once more, aghast at the revelation.

“Found her ripping some dude’s throat out behind a nightclub,” Anna explains, then shrugs. “It happens.”

The girl shuts her eyes tightly, as if she is trying to block out the memory. Parr takes her hand, and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Katie, is it?”

“Or Kate. Or Kat, or Katherine – but, that’s you as well. I’m rambling.”

“That’s alright. The transition can be stressful. May I call you Kat?”

Kat nods.

“Good. Now, from what you’ve told us, it sounds like nobody explained to you how this works. What is it that you think is going on?”

“’M a vampire. Right?” Parr hums an affirmation, and Kat laughs, without humour. “And, because I’m a vampire, and I was going insane with how thirsty I was and because he wouldn’t stop talking and he kept touching me after I told him not to…” She looks to Anna. “That man. He was my boyfriend. I killed my boyfriend.”

It’s usually cold in the house, but it seems to get even colder after that statement.

While Catherine intimately knows the feeling of wanting to murder your former significant others (Thomas – Foul rake! Blackguard! She shall curse his name after death and beyond!), she is aware that this may not be the case for Kat. Most couples these days actually quite like each other – one need not rely on a husband to vote for them anymore, after all. She’s been looking out for someone like that, but she hasn’t found them yet. Maybe someday.

There have been so very many days…

Thankfully, Anna is there with a kind word, so she need not answer nor dwell on her failure to find love. It is just one word, however, and it is not spoken with great compassion.

“Condolences?”

Kat waves a hand, shakes her head. “The only good thing about dating Francis is – was – that he gave me a place to stay. Everything else… I don’t think anyone will be that upset he’s dead, put it that way.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “It was so easy. Too easy.”

Well, it’s good to know that nothing of value was lost, at least.

“Subtlety and control are the results of practice,” Catherine tells the girl, “and that will come, in time. Until then, since the one who turned you is not around to help, I humbly request that you allow us to assist you.”

“We have a spare room. Um. Not that you have to take it, or anything, but the option’s there -”

Kat cuts Anna off. Nobody’s had the gall to do that for centuries.

“Why are you doing this? Any of this?! You want something from me, don’t you? Otherwise, I’d still be out there, dealing with my boyfriend’s corpse! Be honest with me, please. What is it you want me to do?!”

She is looking into both of their eyes, searching for an ulterior motive like she knows it’s there – Parr gets that, unfortunately, and she’s disgusted that something has happened to the poor girl to prompt such suspicion and mistrust.

Catherine does not raise her voice, speaks calmly and carefully, just like she was taught. “We are not doing this in the hopes of a favour, or any material gain. We – or, at least, I – am behaving in this way because I want to see you turn out well. Perhaps there is a vain hope of a new friendship out of this, but that is the loftiest of my wishes, and you should not feel obligated to fulfil it if you don’t want to.”

“You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened in at least a decade,” says Anna.

“But you’re vampires. Why are you helping a competitor?”

“Why not? Just because we’re bloodsucking monsters doesn’t mean we can’t be nice about it. Plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Okay. Okay. In that case… might I ‘humbly request’… a hug, please?”

~~~

“How do you feel about it?”

Catalina does not turn away from her painting; yet another Spanish vista. She has been told that the Inquisition is over, that she can return for a holiday, but there is no doubt in her mind that what is there now must be wildly different from what she remembers. The latter is what she puts to canvas, to show off what she knows, what mortal eyes can no longer see.

“You shall have to be more specific,” she says to Anne, her voice clipped.

“You know.” She refuses to give Anne the satisfaction of looking at her, but she can feel the fluttering eyelashes, the lazy grin, just from her cadence. “Us. What we have.”

“What on earth are you implying?”

“That thing we do. The one where I press all your buttons, and you beat the shit out of me. Great way to work out that tension, yeah? But then there’s Jane – Plain Insane Jane – putting stakes in our faces and telling us to end it.”

“Would you have listened to her if she hadn’t?”

“Nah.” No hesitation whatsoever. No hint of shame. “But it’s fun. Don’t you think so?”

…Frankly, Catalina does not know. She knows it is not a healthy way of relieving stress. She knows Jane is justified in her motivations to stop it, if not her methods (though both of them make it difficult for her to use a softer touch).

But, if she is truly honest with herself, she likes to feel powerful sometimes. Yes, she is powerful when compared to a regular human – but that was true when she was alive, too. Now, she is no longer in the line of succession, she is no longer a princess. She is ‘just’ a vampire, and that fact irks her more than it should.

But she doesn’t tell Anne any of that. She puts her brush down, and turns to the source of her self-reflection. She’s hanging in the air, as if she were watching Catalina from an invisible sofa.

“You’ve been out drinking, haven’t you?”

Their kind can, in fact, get drunk. It’s more of a roundabout process than it is for mortals – one must find someone that’s absolutely cup-shotten, take them somewhere quiet, and… share their blood alcohol content. Catalina knows this because Anne is a master of the process.

“Of course I have!” Anne replies, with a funny sort of smile. “That’s why you go out, why Jane goes out. To have a drink!”

Oh, she definitely has been. She’s wearing the silly spectacles again, the ones where you can’t see her eyes properly.

“I’m not having this conversation with you while you’re out of your wits,” Catalina carefully enunciates.

“I always have my wits. Do you even listen to my jokes, princess?”

“You’re drunk.”

“And? You don’t talk when I’m sober, you won’t talk when I’m toxed – what is it that you need me to be for you to be honest?”

There is a knock at the door, and Jane’s voice comes through loud and clear. “Catalina? We have a guest.”

That’s interesting. They don’t often have guests – well, not ones that aren’t ‘invited for dinner’, and Jane likes to keep that private, if it’s her. It can’t be Parr or von Kleve; Jane would have said as much.

Perhaps it is someone important, she thinks, and immediately her mood sours.

“Who do you think it is?” Anne asks.

“I don’t know. All I ask is that you don’t make a complete fool of yourself.”

“And what if I do?”

“Then I take no responsibility for your actions.”

-

“She’s very new, apparently,” Jane tells them, and she is doing only a slightly better job than Anne at holding in her excitement. “She doesn’t remember who turned her. Cathy thinks it’s Thomas, but you know how she is.”

Yes, Catalina does. Thomas may be responsible for a lot of things, but if he showed his face in this part of town, he’d probably find himself dismembered by his very angry ex-wife.

They reach the top of the staircase. Below them, on the ground level, Cathy is speaking quietly to – good Lord! That woman’s hair is pink! How is it that vibrant a shade?!

Anne gasps in delight. “A baby! You’ve found a little baby, Cathy!”

“I’m not a baby. I’m nineteen.”

“Exactly. Two-digit age. Baby.”

“I apologise for her conduct,” Catalina sighs. “Someone had a bit too much to drink, and she had too much of them. I am Catalina Trastámara de Aragón.”

“And I’m Anne. Sometimes.”

The girl blinks. Probably thrown off by that introduction. “Oh-kay. Uh, well, I’m Kat Howard. Katherine, actually, but you see how that will cause problems. I’m moving in with Cathy and Anna, and Anna thought it might be good to introduce myself.”

There is an image of vampires being solitary creatures, living in ruined castles and moping about in their every waking hour. It’s not untrue, but Catalina hated it when she had a go. Eternity? With no-one around her? What torture!

No. Ever since she found Jane sobbing in front of her own grave, since Anne had her chance encounter with a Spanish princess, she’s resolved never to be alone again. She shall, of course, extend that invitation to this new girl.

It’s practically her duty.

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Kat.”

~~~

Vampires own nightclubs.

That makes sense, right? They only operate at night, they attract a crowd, many people there aren’t expecting to remember what happened there, only that they had a good time and feel terrible in the morning, if they make it that far.

Well, Anna doesn’t own a nightclub. She owns a chain of 24-hour off-licences. But, she can hypnotise the bouncer into letting them in, so that’s alright.

The music thrums in place of Kat’s heart as she watches the mass of bodies swaying and jumping with absolutely no sense of rhythm. Coloured lights flash, the DJ plies his trade, glasses clink and sweat permeates the air.

Anna is watching only her.

“See anyone?”

Kat scans the crowds, a grim expression on her face. “No-one looks particularly appetising.”

“Well, of course they don’t. We’re not looking for the cream of the crop here, we’re looking for someone who deserves it.”

Kat leans her head on her hand. Anna told her she could come to her for anything – so, Kat had, when she started to feel hungry again, and so Anna planned this little night out.

“There are two choices,” she’d said. “Either you pick someone out yourself, or you go mad with hunger and some other poor sod ends up like your boyfriend.”

“You’re sure of that?” Kat questioned.

“Oh, yeah. I speak from experience – I’ve always regretted what happened to the Duke of Lorraine…”

Anna had refused to say anything more about that.

Kat has… mixed feelings about what happened with Dereham. Okay, she’s horrified that she murdered him, but she doesn’t feel bad that she wiped that arrogant look from his eyes for a few seconds (before he, you know, died). He didn’t care that she was sick, didn’t answer her texts when she told him her reflection had vanished, or that she was bleeding from her eyes – and as soon as he got back from his work trip, he dragged her to a nightclub to ‘show her off’ and pretended nothing was wrong…!

…Okay, she’s getting a bit heated. The man’s funeral was three days ago. No point in holding a grudge, now.

“What about that one?”

Kat follows Anna’s gaze. A man is swaggering over to the bar with a confidence that nothing about him implies he’s earned. She gets the feeling this man used to be handsome, or liked, and no-one has told him otherwise just yet.

“Dunno. Maybe.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Kat automatically bites her lip, before remembering that’s probably a bad idea now. She doesn’t want to be alone, exactly, but at the same time…

“Is it alright if you hang out slightly further away?” She asks. “If I need your help, I’ll laugh really loudly.”

Anna smiles in acknowledgement, nods, and wanders off. Kat might be wrong, but she seems almost gleeful.

Thankfully (or not), the once-handsome man notices her staring, and saunters over. Kat’s skin crawls.

“Hey.”

Kat gives a small, brief smile in return.

“You here alone?”

She risks a quick glance over to Anna – she still has an eye on her. Kat isn’t alone. “Yeah. Just… needed to get out, you know?”

“I do.” He smirks, points to himself. “Henry. You know Tudor Real Estate?” She does, and the man grins at the recognition she must be showing. “I’m the co-owner.”

Kat doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, but this guy has only a passing resemblance to the man on the ‘for sale’ signs.

“Must be an important job,” she tries.

“Very. My brother relies on me for a lot.” Oh, okay, he’s the brother. Wait, the brother she’d read articles about? The one who got acquitted last year? “Sometimes I just need to blow off some steam, you know? Have some fun. Speaking of, can I buy you a drink or two?”

Wow. That look in his eyes. He clearly hasn’t changed as much as the judge thought he had.

“I don’t drink… alcohol.”

He scoffs. “Listen. You heard how important I am, right? Nothing will happen to you without my say-so. We can have fun if you just let me help you.”

This man is made of red flags, isn’t he? A blind woman could see the warning signs. He’s a creep with overly-inflated self-esteem, seems to have spent his whole life getting everything he’s ever wanted…

And that means he’s perfect.

“I guess you’re right,” she says, quietly. She doesn’t have to fear his kind any more. “I am here for a good time. If you’re offering…”

Henry grins. “Anything you want, babe! Name it, and it’s yours!”

“Anything?” Money and connections won’t protect you from me.

“Anything at all, princess.”

“Hmm…” Kat makes a show of looking him up and down. Yes, this is the one. “Maybe we can take this somewhere private?”

Henry is clearly thrilled at the prospect. He grabs her hand, roughly (though Kat is sure she could break his arm if the need arose), and leans in close.

“I know just the place.”

He leads her away, to a location where there are no witnesses, no-one to save him. From across the club, Anna gives her a thumbs up.

Kat returns the gesture.

-

She comes in the front door with her phone in her hand. Henry has a Wikipedia page. Not very long, pretty much goes on about his brief stint in custody and that he’s Arthur Tudor’s brother.

Or, was. They might have to change the tense, soon.

Cath is on the sofa, chatting quietly with… Kat wants to say… Jane…? Yeah, Jane sounds right. She’s friendly enough, but always seems like she’s on her second-last nerve.

“How did it go?” Cath asks.

Anna grins. She’s been like this all night, and Kat feels conflicted about all the praise she’s received.“Oh, fantastic! Kat was a natural; that idiot fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Turns out I have a vendetta against people who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” Kat adds.

Parr’s smile grows sharp, but her eyes still sparkle. “Well, there won’t be any shortage of those. Come, sit with us.”

So, Kat does. The things they speak of are so normal, Kat is initially confused. Jane’s gardening is a topic of discussion, as is Cath’s ever-expanding collection of stuff she finds interesting. When Jane asks about Kat’s “little slate-thing”, they both listen with rapt attention at her explanation of modern technology.

Kat had forgotten what it’s like to have people listen. It’s a shame she had to die to experience it.

~~~

“Yes, I’ve received a notice recently about outstanding bills owed – no, no, don’t shut off the – listen to me. The account has been paid in full. Enter that into the system. Okay, great. Thanks for that – no, no, everyone makes mistakes. Alright, bye.”

Anne hangs up. Great, power bills are sorted.

Contrary to popular opinion, she actually does do her share of work around the house. Yeah, the dishes are her least favourite task. Vampires shouldn’t have to do the dishes. But, that doesn’t stop her from helping in other ways.

She’s just about to start dialling the telephone company, when there is a knock at the door. Few are brave enough to do that at this place. As she stalks over, she wonders if it might a debt collector – if it is, that means she can have a snack, too.

The heavy oaken door swings open with an agonising creak, and the eyes of the figure on the other side glow in the evening gloom.

Oh, it’s that pink-haired girl. Katie, maybe? Anne can’t actually remember her name, and at this point she’s too afraid to ask.

“Hi.” The girl waves slightly. “Can I come in?”

Do you really want to? Anne thinks, but she says, “Uh, sure.”

With a sigh of relief, Kiara steps over the threshold.

“Apparently I called you a baby last time you were here,” Anne says. “Sorry about that. That’s not fair to you, and you don’t scare the shit out of me like an actual vampire infant would. But, I’m guessing you’re not here for an apology.”

Kitty smiles awkwardly. “Uh, no. I’m here to try and fix your computer. Um, the little television-box-thing you never use?”

“Oh! That! Yeah, I never knew how to get that thing working.”

“Yeah, no promises,” Kelly says, “but Jane thought it might help you… connect.”

That really gets Anne’s attention. She’s not surprised it was Jane who told her, because of the way Kim described the computer, but that part about connecting.

Anne wants honesty, for once. If Kat (that sounds right) is offering, she will take it.

-

To Anne’s surprise (and shame), Kat is able to get la machine infernale up and running in just a few minutes. She explains the mouse, the monitor, and the programs built into the operating system. The computer is not to get wet, nor is it to be fed. Do not sacrifice anything to it in an attempt to make it work properly.

Why Kat felt the need to include that instruction is a mystery, but it was probably necessary.

“Now, I had this whole speech with my step-grandma – back when I talked with my family – and I’ll give the same to you. Don’t believe everything you read on the internet. A lot of it’s lies, or personal opinion. On that note, not everyone you talk to is who they say they are. Don’t do things like send money or give out personal details if someone asks, and don’t meet with someone without people around.”

“Okay, I’m absolutely going to do that last one – but for the rest of them? Sure!”

Kat genuinely smiles. Wow, when was the last time Anne did that, and didn’t eat the person afterwards? Must have been ages, because it feels like she’s come across an oasis after months in a desert.

“So,” she goes on, “what exactly is the internet? I know I pay the bill for it -” ‘pay’ is a strong word - “but I don’t actually know what it entails.”

“Okay, well, you know… books?”

“Yes.”

“You know the television?”

“Yeeesss.”

“You know those coffee shops where people yelled at each other about philosophy, in the eighteenth century?”

“Yep, yep, yep.” Even though she was never invited, the sexist pricks.

“The internet is all of those things together,” Kat explains, “but worse.”

Anne gasps. “I love it already.”

-

The room is dark. No lights, curtains shut. The only source of light is the faint white glow of the monitor.

The internet is, as Kat had warned, a shitshow. Anne thinks it’s just the best thing. University professors and the lowest common denominator share the same spaces, and send vile, scathing messages to one another over fictional characters. Maybe she should do some research, just so she can play along. It’d be just like her days at court, getting one person at another’s throat, playing them off each other… ah, she misses that, if nothing else. It’s just not the same, now.

Oh, but then there are the videos. Little mortal Anne would never have thought it possible. What an idea! What awful and wonderful things humans create when they’re not being killed!

Anne’s exploration is interrupted when the light from the hallway fills the room.

“Ah. So you haven’t left.”

Catalina? Come to check on her? Anne turns – yes, it is her, likely wondering why her evening hasn’t been ruined yet. Or, maybe not. Anne has a terrible habit of putting words in other people’s mouths.

“You haven’t been downstairs this evening,” Her housemate continues. “Jane was worried about you.”

Anne doubts that’s true. Not that Jane doesn’t worry, she worries about almost everything (who cares if her teeth show when she smiles?), but she would be thrilled to know Anne is being quiet.

“Just looking at things,” Anne mumbles.

“Hm. Ominous. What ‘things’?”

Well, the best way to explain would be to show, right?

Anne plays the video. Normal night sky, a deep navy. Then, violet, then orange, and the fiery sun rises over the horizon, accented by the crimson heavens.

There’s a thump from behind her. Catalina has flattened herself against the opposite wall, eyes wide, fangs bared.

“I will not die so easily, Boleyn!” she snarls. “I’ve survived assassination attempts before, and I’ll do it again!”

“I’m not trying to kill you, girl! It’s a video! Do you almost die every time you put the sun in one of your paintings? Because that would be a much bigger problem than me showing you this.”

She presses the button to make the video play once more, and makes a show of standing in front of the screen, conspicuously not combusting.

Catalina stares at her. Then, at the monitor. She approaches, slowly.

“Can you make it go again?”

Anne does. The sun is reflected in Catalina’s eyes for the first time in over five hundred years.

“…I miss it, sometimes.”

Oh God, it’s happening, Anne thinks. Out loud, she says, “Miss what?”

“The sunrise.” From the sound of her voice, calm and quiet, Anne gets the impression Catalina’s not really here. “My home. My family. It doesn’t matter how far away I am, in years or in miles. They’re gone, and the name Trastámara means nothing.”

Oh, that’s it. Of course it is.

Anne did not what it was like to be a princess in the early 1400s, partially because she wasn’t born yet. She knows from her own experiences with Whatever the Fuck the Sun King Was Playing At that the nobility was constantly having to be perfect at all times; not even a twitch of emotion could play upon your face, even as you drain all your resources to support the near-impossible standards of fashion, or it could easily be all for naught.

She’s just been thinking, maybe, something like that might be why Catalina has the sort of aversion to talking about her emotions that would normally be reserved for holy symbols.

“Catalina. You’re not a princess anymore.”

Catalina sneers, all traces of vulnerability gone. “Yes, you have taunted me about that many times before.”

“Not a taunt.” Sometimes. “A reminder you no longer have to try and be perfect. I’m not gonna tell any peers of the realm if you feel sad sometimes.”

“So you feel the need to drive me to madness in the hopes I accept your view?”

Okay, so maybe Anne’s been a little coarse. In fairness, she tried passive-aggressive behaviour and it didn’t work. There’s a reason she goes after Catalina, and it’s not just because it’s easy.

Anne points to herself. “Unstoppable force.” To Catalina. “Immovable object. You move, I stop.”

“…Right. Okay.” A pause. “I know, logically, that you are right – about that particular thing. But, it makes me feel like I’m ignoring part of myself.”

“Just have the good without the bad. If the King of Spain has anything to say about it, kill him and rule the country as their immortal god-queen.”

“I would never be so rash,” Catalina huffs. “I’ll try. Just… don’t mock me for it. If I’m keeping at least one good thing about my life, it will be threatening anyone who insults me with imprisonment.”

“Yessssss…”

Both Anne and Catalina jump at the voice from outside the room. Anne acts first – she opens the door a crack, and sees Jane’s eye on the other side.

“You’ve been at it for two hundred years,” Jane says. “Two. Hundred. Years. I don’t care if you don’t get along straight away, let me have this.”

And, fearing her ire, they do.

~~~

Anna’s on the roof again.

There are two main reasons for this. One, her room is in the attic and it’s the easiest way out of the house. Two, it’s a good place to sit, look up at the stars (at least the ones you can still see, anyway) and think about things.

Kat is on her right, arms around her knees, looking up at the moon. Anna does not think she’s paying much attention to it, however.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Kat doesn’t answer straight away. “Just how things are better.”

“…They are?”

“I’m living… uh, residing in a house with people I actually like. This is the first time that’s happened since I was about eight, I think.”

Wow. Anna hadn’t had a terribly good time when she was alive – no rights, no fun allowed, go marry some dude you’ve never even met, and no you can’t have fun then either – but Kat’s life might beat out Cathy’s hopeless search for love, in terms of tragedy.

“I cannot truly speak for you, but I have found this…” Anna waves her hands, trying to find the right way to put it, “whole thing to be very affirming. There is no-one to hold you down. No-one to stop you from doing what you like. Well, except priests, but they can be ignored, mostly.”

“You don’t brood about it too much?”

“Why would I? It’s the only reason I’ve been able to see the things I’ve seen. To be here, now, talking to you.” All because she told the wrong (or right) person about how bored she was. Of course she would accept the offer to have fun, even if the whole process wasn’t. “Do you?”

Kat stops to think again, so that’s a ‘yes’. “I’m still getting used to it. But, I don’t mind it. I’m not scared of the things I used to be afraid of. That’s good, right?”

“Sounds good to me. But, if you falter, that’s okay, too. We have supported Cathy, who was the youngest before you, we can do the same here – so long as you support us in turn.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s got that thing about finding the one.” How does Kat manage to fit so much bitterness in only two words? “Don’t get it. She’s got people who love her already. You, and those three around the corner. She doesn’t need them.”

“That’s a very good way of putting it, actually.” Anna’s argument against serious dating has been that three of the people Parr’s courted have tried to murder her, and her ex-husband technically succeeded. It hasn’t worked, but maybe a more positive viewpoint might win out against two centuries of stubbornness.

“Anna von Kleve.”

von Kleve looks down. Ah, speak of the devil. She’s on the balcony below them.

“Cathy! Kat has had some good thoughts about love!”

“Oh? How wonderful.”

She doesn’t seem like she thinks it is, though. She almost looks angry, with the hard eyes and pursed lips and the red-brown mottled book in her hand -

Oh no.

“I think, Anna,” Cathy intones, her voice sharper than any stake, “that we should talk about personal responsibility first.”

#the cradle will write #six the musical #not the historical figures #but that won't stop me making references to them

[lady-plantagenet]

What hasn’t already been said: The Spanish Princess 2

Episode 3: GOOD Grief! (we finally have a good episode on our hands)

To all those of you keen enough to have come back for another segment of ‘what hasn’t already been said: TSP’, as opposed to have just been scrolling when you see this - welcome back! (Scrollers you too <3)

Drawing of Thomas More’s Son AKA who Margaret Pole at this point wants to be the step baby momma of ;).

To anyone who’s seeing this for the first time: what this is a list of observations, jokes, reactions and criticism which occur to me upon a rewatch. I wait every week until Saturday to do this so that I have had my fill of scrolling through the tag and aggregating what has already been said. I tried doing a whole spoof (here where I gave up 10% in) but tbh a) I don’t know the history well enough b) it’s more time consuming than I thought and c) this series is just not as funny or as crazy as TWQ, so it’s untenable. Having said that: This is not a hatepost. I’m not hatewatching this series and nitpicking on purpose but expressing my honest views and trying to find the good in it as well as the bad.

Without further ado...

First Scenes: 

LMAO the way Wolsey suggests they break their alliance with Spain is freaking hilarious because the actor delivers the lines as if he were a high school girl making a personal attack by suggesting the prom change its theme to 70s disco to the chagrin of the peppy up-and-coming rival.

Also @ Henry VIII looking like the peppy up-and-comer’s bff and shy stan with that pencil bite and small smirk when Catherine loses her cool against Wolsey.

I’m sorry... who is Henry married to again?

Also what is Margaret Pole doing at the council meeting?? I’m not saying I don’t like it.

Margaret Pole warning against certain repetitive thinking creating madness :(((

Attempted Naked Twister:

Oh Catherine, what is with you and all the other STARZ protagonists and that weird politcky bedroom talk? Who actually finds this sexy?

‘Catherine you are unnatural’ ooof that line delivery was somehow haunting.

Was the whole ‘I can’t be rushed you are off-putting with your overpowering’ a callback to Arthur and Catherine? Apparently there’s another writer for this episode so I won’t put all subtly past them. 

Scotland:

‘Shitey men’ asdkjashd

Look I’m tired of all this ‘my children won’t be safe’ line getting repeated. Look mate, murder of royal infants and children was not exactly a common occurence, even in cases of deposition. The Princes in the Tower are an exception to this but a very infamous case for that reason. Child murder was extremely taboo. In situations like this with an infant kid, no one is going to bother murdering the babies and taking their thrones, the lords will just vie for power and make themselves de facto rulers and oust the queen. It’s not a question of safety but a question of holding power. Stop giving all women characters perma mummy brains.

Maggie being all caring:

‘Barnaby’ *scoffs* ‘Such an English name’ - OH MAN 0_0 is Catherine mocking them for trying to adapt ? Like I know it’s meant to show her envy for Lina, but it’s coming out all messed up.

Our girl Maggie’s smile screams I’m beating your ass in chess.

Anyhow this is the least histrionic we’ve seen Catherine so far.

Chaplain vs Catherine:

I’m interested how Catherine will feel at Stafford’s execution given that I have noticed this show build up to a friendship between them.

Why is everyone laughing at the whole ‘will you delight us with new schemes’ line was not that funny?

LMAO at Thomas Boleyn’s attempted brown-nosing. 

You know what? Ruairi is a decent actor. When he says ‘so you admit it? you lost the child because you tried to be a man?” the actor conveys Henry’s troubled mind, lowkey scare towards Catherine and bewilderment all in one. The way his eyes do not move but just widen emotionlessly also gives this sense that he is being manipulated (which I guess they are going for with Wolsey). Then the whole choir music in the background.. I don’t know.. I’m liking this, it’s creating a vibe of a king of haunted and increasingly paranoid Henry. I’m sure they are going for that, so good.

Ursula Pole and Mama:

Maggie Pole say ‘riches don’t keep you safe’ with tears in her eyes :’(. Please tell me how this is not her thinking on her parents and granddad Warwick and what befell them ;’(.

I find Ursula refreshing actually, don’t get those types of heroines often. But they are making her similar to a gold-digger, an exhalted marriage was first and foremost considered a thing of honour. Noblepeople wouldn’t speak in such mercenary terms regarding their marriages. 

Post Mary Defiance:

I love the ‘horse’ nickname from Brandon n’awwww

Also just realised what made TWQ so atmospheric - that wierd ‘oooo’ sound effect in the background when a character was being paranoid or worrying. They are using it during Henry’s ‘How is it that I have no sons?’ and it is just... so effective.

Catherine calling them ordinary children... she just keeps striking me as more and more classist. Like ok, I know every royal was... but still, I thought she was meant to see Lina as a friend and equal despite her race and status. To add the race element, this kind of rubs me the wrong way.

Also it is so clear by the end when Catherine states how the king is upset with her, she expects Maggie to ask her about it.. but she doesn’t lmao.

Back to Scotland until Sexy boy fencing:

I love me this soft boi. Angus <3 <3

I like how they address that some men don’t really like killing and that violence isn’t inherent in a man’s nature.

Oh man, are we supposed to look at Lina’s house and deplore the impoverished conditions? It would go for at least 3,000,000 pounds in today’s property market?

Is Catherine being particularly classist again with ‘Why u not becoming a butcher Wolsey, ey?’. 

Though I will admit the ‘but giving meat to the poor is also good’ was one of her only smart comebacks.

Just realised, Catherine’s pink dress pretty as it is, looks straight out of the 1570s... why?

Montage and After:

You guys are right, there is this weird longing between Henry and Wolsey lmao. It is actually insane.

So basically Catherine is officially depressed

OOOFF we have Stafford as regent instead of Catherine. (edit: I suppose it’s cause they go to France which they didn’t historically? Also if Stafford is at home then what is his son later doing in France, why would he be there without his father. This show didn’t think this through)

Meg Singing:

An impassionate speech is not too anachronistic. But despite the title of this post (what hasn’t been said) I will reiterate that 16th century and Medieval people’s problem wasn’t that they were ashamed of their grief and didn’t cry. In fact, crying was somewhat more socially acceptable then than it even is now! Even manly men like Arthur were written as crying in literature such as Malory’s Morte d’Arthur. Obviously you couldn’t go overboard, but in truth crying was indeed often too performative rather than hidden too much behind doors.

Pole and More UWUWU in France and after:

I LIKE THIS INTELLECTUAL FLIRTING

It’s nice to see a depiction of romantic feelings between mature and level-headed subjects.

God Mary Tudor is so beautiful in this scene jesus. and the music when she was being presented was also very beautiful.

Maggie Pole getting given ‘a modest income’ yeah... she was one of the wealthiest peers of her day.

Also Maggie’s lady cousin not lady aunt Frost!

‘shaking of the sheets’ lmaoooo

William Compton cracks the hell out of me. I love this guy. He is just so creepy and twisted yet super keen and friendly. ahaha He looks like a riot, I hope we see him more. lmao tiles.

Also this palace feels very anachronistic almost 18th century-ish.

I like the Louis and Mary sequence, it’s nice seeing him trying to make her feel less scared, but OMFG when he lay on that chair.. for one second I thought they were trying to kill him off already.

Scotland: ‘Love is an open doooooorrrrr’ + Last Scene:

I ship Meg and Douglas ahhhh this soft boi x strong woman match is everything Henry and Catherine could have been.

I wonder... why is Lina speaking in Spanish more than Catherine. hmmm Are they trying to foreshadow Lina’s eventual return home and how Catherine become a true englishwoman?

Conclusion:

7.5/10

I cannot in all fairness believe it. This was actually decent. I’ve given up on historical accuracy long ago so by this point I’m focusing more on how it stands as as drama. I mean, TWQ was also a flop when it came to grasping the complex issues of that era but why do I feel compelled to rewatch it every year? Because it had atmosphere when it came to acting, music, certain aesthetics (though the costumes let me down often). It felt adequately gothic and dark, yet bright and jewel-lish when it had to be, sometimes both at the same time. Some one-liners were also memorable etc...

So far TSP 2 did not have any of this. Everything felt way too off and anachronistic. But not even consistently anachronistic. The music was also often very meh (though I just noted the absence of the spanish stringy theme that kept playing in season 1 - I guess I understand why), the dialogue very clichéd (‘alright lads let’s throw in the words: king, crown, power, fight, battle + other buzzwords and we have ourselves Shakespeare’) and so on... but I saw a change in this episode and I couldn’t initially point out what it was.

Upon rewatch, I identified some of the improvements (noted above) but above all: The producer was different! Boy does it show. Unfortunately, I think she is only for this one episode which really sucks. Come back! There is more chemistry between the couples, less predictable interactions, pervy Compton, cinnamonroll Douglas, better music, more scenic shots (e.g Douglas and Margaret in church) e.t.c. I hope it will match the rest of the STARZ productions in getting better towards the end.

Look it’s no masterpiece. But I’ll give credit where it’s due because at least this time it didn’t leave me feeling wanting and unsatisfied (if that makes sense).

#the spanish princess #the spanish princess 2 #lady plantagenet's series reviews #catherine of aragon #henry viii #mary tudor queen of france #margaret tudor #charles brandon #margaret pole

[kiarcheo]

It’s All Coming Back to Me Now    3/?

On tumblr : Part 1 here  and Part 2 here

This chapter is more than 3000 words so if you want to read it on Ao3 click here.

The changed relationship between Catalina and Katherine remains pretty much a secret, even if not on purpose. It's just that nothing really changes for them. They are already living together (they will realise later on that nobody mentions it because they don’t know). Katherine calls Catalina mum or mamá only occasionally, and only when they are alone. She is working on the irrational fear that by showing how close they are, how much she loves Catalina, she will somehow lose her, but habits are hard to break. And while it always gives them a thrill to refer to the other as their mother/daughter, it’s something rarely needed as they don’t meet that many new people. Their now legal bond is as cherished as much as it is not talked about.

If you were to ask them why they never said anything to the other queens, they would just reply that it simply never came up. And it’s not like they don’t talk to the others. Things are much more relaxed since moving out. Distance and space definitely made for better relationships in their case. Of course, some grow closer more than others. Katherine, in particular, made an effort to stay in touch with all the others and build a relationship with every single one, but she quickly made it an unofficial rule not to talk about the other queens. Tired to spend half of their meetups providing updates about the others, she had finally sent a message to the group chat very politely saying that if they wanted to know how someone was doing they should ask the person in question and not her.

And it’s on that very group chat that Cathy requests a meeting, the first time they would get all together since they moved out of their shared house.

They are catching up when Catalina speaks up. ‘Not that this isn’t nice-’

‘Try not to sound so surprised. I’m a freaking delight to be around.’  

Catalina’s glare at Anne lacks any heat. Just because she made Katherine laugh. You are supposed to be merciful towards the court buffoon, after all. It’s not like she suddenly likes her.

‘But is there a specific reason we are all here or....?’ all remaining chatter peters out  and attention turns to Cathy.

‘Have you looked...read what they say about us? Yourself,’ she corrects herself. They have a sort of implicit agreement not to look into each other’s lives. As much as possible, at least, considering how interconnected some of their stories are.

Everyone nods, mood getting sombre.

‘From your faces I guess you don’t necessarily like what you found?’

‘It’s not about liking. Some things are just plain wrong.’ Jane’s comment gets another round of nods.

‘I agree. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you...Since we got a second chance, why don’t we make things right. Tell people what really went down. Like, I was not a glorified, old nursemaid.’

‘I was not ugly.’

‘You have always been stunning.’

Anna’s scowl turns into a soft smile towards Katherine.

‘I was not a witch. And I had a normal amount of fingers. And I definitely never did anything weird with my brother and-’

‘We get it, babe.’

Everyone – Catalina included – stops, surprised by the term of endearment. Maybe absence does make the heart grow fonder.

‘What if we could change that?’ Cathy jumps in, recovering. ‘If history remembers us wrong, we have the chance to make it right. Give our own version of the facts.’

‘I thought we were not supposed to talk about it? Like, tell people who we are?’ Jane points out. ‘We made a deal.’

‘A limited-time deal.’ It’s Anna who seems to catch on what Cathy is saying. There is still quite some time before it expires, but still...

‘Exactly. And when the gag order is done...I think it’s time we speak up.’

‘How?’

Everyone nods. They are not against it in principle, not at all, but they haven’t actually thought about the possibility before, so it’s a brand-new concept for them.

‘At first I thought about writing a book.’

‘Of course, you did.’

It might actually work, Cathy thinks looking at the queens, who all said it at the same time and are now sharing amused glances. And she’ll happily takes the teasing if that is what is needed.

‘But then I thought...how many people are actually going to read it? And what kind of people?’ Cathy continues. ‘I would like to think that nobody already interested in...history? The period? Us?...well, actually believes that Anne was a witch, for example. What we need is to change popular misconceptions and as much as it pains me to say it, I don’t think books would do the job. Then I thought...interviews. They surely would have more reach. But how would we choose? How many? Would we have control over the questions? And then Kat gave me the perfect idea. A fun, engaging one to take control of our narratives.’

‘Me?’ the youngest queen asks surprised.

‘Hamilton.’ It’s all Cathy says.

Catalina groans. ‘She got you too?’

Cathy has to guess that she has been subjected to the topic one too many times (Cathy doesn’t know that in the Trastámara house there is a limit of once a day per soundtrack...because Catalina appreciates music as any normal person does or even more, but Katherine gets obsessed. For weeks she had listened to those 46 songs – yes, she counted them – on repeat, and she had to put a stop to it. Once a day is enough, thank you very much). The other queens are nodding, so it seems that everyone has at least heard Kat talking about it.

‘You want to write a musical about ourselves?’ Anne asks, sounding intrigued.

‘I want us to write it. But yes. If we do it well, it would have a bigger audience than an interview or a book could ever reach.’

‘Except that not anyone can write a musical.’ Anna points out, sceptical.

‘I seem to remember some people having quite the musical skills.’ Cathy didn’t read up on the others, but being the last queen means that she had heard stuff about her predecessors. And while she knows to take with a pinch of salt (or a whole handful of it) what people were saying, even at the time, she doesn’t think that would be something worth lying about. What’s the point of spreading false rumours about Catherine of Aragon or Anne Boleyn being accomplished musicians and talented singers? Cathy herself had vocal and instrumental music training, just like them and Kat too.

Cathy chances a glance at the youngest queen. Hopefully the others will think that it’s knowledge from the past – which mainly is – and not related to anything Kat had shared with her. Like the fact that despite some hang-ups, she had decided to take up music again, not wanting bad memories to ruin forever something she loved. She had started with the ukulele figuring it was the most similar she could get to a lute, before moving to guitar. Then on keyboard…money and space wise a piano was just not feasible for where she lived, Kat had explained. Similar issues, along with the noise, are the ones keeping her away from drums (Catalina has been extremely supportive but putting up with her learning how to play drums might be a bit too much even for her). So she had settled on a woodwind instrument as the next one to pick up. Kat credits her past life’s experiences with flute, lute and virginal, and the wonders of internet for her ability to teach herself. She is even considering whether going for it more seriously. Well, not that she isn’t taking it seriously now, she spends long hours practicing, but more like...academically or professionally. They had various conversations about it, about her maybe joining a school or getting a degree or if she should just try to get a jig or something like that. Cathy won’t lie and say that their chats didn’t play a part in her proposing the musical idea, knowing that at least one of them had enough music knowledge and talent in this new life of theirs to pull it off, but she isn’t sure how much Kat had told the others so she doesn’t want to bring it up if Kat doesn’t.

While Catalina and Kat are looking thoughtful, and Anne interested, Jane and Anna still look unconvinced.

‘We can always ask for professional help.’ Cathy concedes. ‘But we should be the one deciding what to say. That’s the whole point. Let’s just try writing something. Ideas. What we want people to know. Type of music. Inspirations. Then we can see what we have and go from there.’

‘What are you proposing exactly?’

‘Let’s try to write a song each.’

.

They all agreed on going in order but now Catalina is deeply regretting it. Because she has to stand up in front of the others and tell them that she doesn’t have her song ready. She has been dreading the meeting. She knows she doesn’t have to be perfect all the time in this life lest something terrible happens. She knows she can’t be perfect all the time. But she still feels uncomfortable showing any kind of weakness. Especially in front of her fellow queens. And the only one whom she allowed herself to be vulnerable with is not currently there. Katherine had texted the group chat saying that she was on her way but was going to be late. Indeed, the catching up part is now over and all the attention shifts to Catalina.

‘So...’ Queens do not fidget. That has been drilled into her and any instinct to do it eradicated centuries ago, which is the only reason she is not fidgeting as everyone looks at her. ‘I have some words,’ she doesn’t dare to call them lyrics, ‘but I don’t really have anything music-wise.’

‘I do!’ Kat bursts into the room, panting. ‘Sorry I’m late, I lost track of time.’

‘You do?’

Kat smiles at Catalina sheepishly. ‘I had some ideas when you showed me what you wrote and thought I’d try them out. I wanted it to be a surprise, but not like this. I was planning to let you listen to it first, but I sort of just finished it? That’s why I was late. Of course, you don’t have to like it. Or listen to it at all. You know what? Let’s forget about it. I’m sure you’ll come up with something much better yourself and you don’t need-’

‘Breathe.’ Catalina waits until she sees the girl taking a couple of deep breaths, short-winded both from running there and then her ramblings. ‘Let’s hear my song.’

‘Are you sure? Because-’

‘I trust you.’ She does. Katherine has talent, she knows it better than anyone else. She is the one witnessing the ease with which she picks up new instruments or how she can play music by ear after listening to it a handful of times. The one who has the privilege to listen to her playing and singing around the house (and now she knows why lately it had happened less, if Katherine had been working on the song for her). But most importantly she trusts her because Katherine knows her. Better than anyone else. She knows her tastes, musical ones included. And she knows her story. Her side of the story.

Katherine takes out her laptop. ‘It’s quite rough, obviously. And the key is-’

‘Just let us hear it.’

Kat nods. She looks down at the papers full of scribbles in front of her. Takes a breath. Then starts the music.

You must agree that, baby, in all the time I’ve been by your side I've never lost control, no matter how many times I knew you lied Have my golden rule Got to keep my cool, yeah, baby

And even though you've had your fun Running around with some pretty young thing And even though you've had one son With someone who don't own a wedding ring No matter what I heard, I didn't say a word No, baby

Katherine looks at Catalina to gauge her reaction at the first part of the song. She has a small smile and she is nodding to the rhythm. Encouraging.

I've put up with your sh- like every single day But now it's time to shh, and listen when I say

It’s Katherine’s spin on Catalina’s words. She isn’t sure she will want to leave the ‘swear’ in, but she just had to do it and try. She knows it’s not something people would expect from the first queen, but she had in mind the Catalina she knows rather than the one people think they know. And her Catalina is not shy about swearing as long as they are alone.

You must think that I'm crazy You wanna replace me, baby there's N-n-n-n-n-n-no way If you think for a moment I'd grant you annulment, just hold up, there's N-n-n-n-n-n-no way

She had needed something to make the tempo works, and then she had remembered Catalina calling Anne babe during the last meeting, and she decided to try it out. Also it makes for a slightly condescending tone towards Henry, calling him baby, which Katherine likes and thinks Catalina will do too.

So you read a bible verse that I'm cursed 'Cause I was your brother's wife You say it's a pity 'cause quoting Leviticus "I'll end up kiddy-less all my life" Well, daddy, weren't you there, when I gave birth to Mary?

That had been a struggle to work out, but Katherine had really wanted to include it because it was so important. The reason Henry adduced seeking the annulment was completely unfounded and people had to know it.

You're just so full of sh-, must think that I'm naive I won't back down won't shh, and no, I'll never leave

You must think that I'm crazy You wanna replace me, baby, there's N-n-n-n-n-n-no way If you thought it'd be funny, to send me to a nunnery, honey, there's No way

Catalina doesn’t seem to hate it and the others are nodding along to the beat, Katherine notices as she looks up from her notes.  There will be work to be done for sure, but maybe they have a good starting point.

‘Dance break?’ Katherine speaks up as the music continues.

‘You always loved a good dance.’ Anne points out, remembering her time at court with her, Jane nodding along.

It’s true. What they don’t know is that she had taken it up again. Encouraged by Katherine pursuing her love for music, she had decided to do the same with her passion for dancing. It’s not something she could see herself doing seriously as Katherine does with playing instruments, but she is loving attending classes and practicing on her own in the privacy of their living room, sometimes making up new routines, sometimes involving Katherine when she needs a partner.

You got me down on my knees Please tell me what you think I've done wrong Been humble, been loyal, I've tried to swallow my pride all along If you can just explain a single thing I've done to cause you pain, I'll go No? You've got nothing to say? I'm not going away

You made me a wife, so I'll be queen 'til the end of my life

Catalina had considered herself married and the legitimate queen until her last days…and Katherine with her. It’s only recently that she had considered how her life would have been different – if at all – had she joined Anne’s household like her step-grandmother had been planning. She is quite sure that at the time she would have been less than happy to be around the ‘usurper’ of what she still thought of as her queen, even months after her death.

There's no way

‘Not sure about the end. Maybe another chorus? Or...I don’t know. Like I said, it’s quite rough, I rushed it a bit, especially the last part, I can think about it more and see-’

‘This is rough?!?’

‘Well...yeah? I just took what she wrote and tried to put it in music, but it could be so much better. Like harmonies! Or, you know, add stuff, take it out...change it completely if you don’t like it.’ She is now talking to Catalina.

‘Some bits and bobs, but honestly? I loved it.’

‘Really?’

‘Do I make a habit to say things I don’t mean?’ Catalina looks at her with a raised eyebrow. She shakes her head with a smile at the mumbled sorry she gets.

‘How did you do it?’ Anne interrupts the exchange. ‘Like, the backing track?’

‘Oh. Well, I recorded each instrument separately. Then overlapped the individual tracks. Which was honestly the hardest part. Learning how to use the software.’

‘Would you mind giving me a hand?’ Anne asks her cousin. ‘Once I have the lyrics down, I mean. I’ve been messing around with a keyboard and got myself a guitar, but it was going to be a stripped-down version, like, acoustic, with whatever it worked better for the song. But if you can do the other instruments and put everything together...’

‘Of course! Just let me know what you need and when!’  

‘I might look into some practice rooms. Possibly with instruments. I’ve been dying to get my hands on some drums!’

‘Me too!’

‘Really?’ Catalina hopes her dread isn’t too obvious. She isn’t going to stop her, but she isn’t looking forward to it, if she has to be honest.

‘It’s not going to happen, don’t have the space. Or soundproofing.’ Kat reassures her.

‘We can learn together!’

‘I have been thinking...about a possible structure.’ Cathy says, encouraged by the enthusiasm of the cousins. ‘We said one song each, then I’m thinking maybe one for introduction and one as conclusion? An introductory song to explain what we’re doing? And one last song so that we don’t end with my song. Kind of a final message? About us reclaiming our stories or something?’

‘We could sing them all together!’

‘Oh!’ Kat perks up at Anna’s words. ‘We could add some chorus and stuff in Catalina’s song, like backup singers?, so that it’s not just her singing and us waiting around-’

‘Wait. Her. US? Are we supposed to sing ourselves?’ Jane stops her.

‘I thought so?’ Kat looks around. Jane does the same. It does seem like that’s what the others thought too.

‘Let’s worry about that later.’ Cathy can see that Jane is not particularly convinced about that, but she doesn’t want her to worry about it now. ‘We can get professional singers just like we can get professional writers, if needed.’

‘Another thing…not sure if it’s relevant now, because Kat sort of already did it. But I was going to say that we should make it modern?’ Anna suggests. ‘If it’s just a history lesson, it’s gonna be boring. Not saying that Catalina’s song was boring. At all. But. I don’t know. It’s something I wanted to bring up before hearing it, so...’ she shrugs.

Upon Catalina’s suggestion, they agree on not having set deadlines for when a queen is supposed to deliver her song. It had stressed her out quite a lot having to come up with something by a fixed date, especially when she couldn’t. And without a delivery deadline, Kat would have had the time to show her what she was doing, and they could have worked on it together. They are going to do it now, so it’s not that much a problem, but there is no reason they have to do things in a hurry.

 ________________________

As usual, started as something turned out so much more…included a take on how the musical was born. I always love reading fics about it…guess it was inevitable I’d take my shot at it too. I don’t know much about music and I’m aware that’s probably not how writing a musical works…but this is fiction so please bear with me.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #catherine and katherine #six fic #six the musical fic #my six posts #six writing #mywork #my ideas #fic: It’s All Coming Back to Me Now #my posts #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic

[sweetestrequiems]

New Day, Same Queen

Summary: The queens have been reincarnated into their new bodies. They have a lot of emotions and they are confused by what’s going on. Some of them are more emotional than the others. Welcome to the modern age, Queens of Six.

Part Two of Six: Catalina de Aragón (Eng.: Catherine of Aragon)

A/N: Part 1 Also, Aragon and Boleyn actually getting over the animosity of the past and being friends because I am a sucker for soft stuff. 

Tag List: @patdfobmcr-yt | @silverpetals97

––––––––––

October 20th, 2019.

There was bustling downstairs from Anne Boleyn, as she had woken up to get herself ready for the day. Spending the day in a quiet house was about to be the last thing on Anne Boleyn’s mind. 

Catherine of Aragon didn’t jolt awake like Anne Boleyn did. She, however, ended up freaking out more than Boleyn did when she first saw herself in the mirror. The first of the six wives found herself in a state of confusion upon waking up. A golden t-shirt and black/yellow flannel pajama pants. Not the thing she remembered last... wearing. Aragon gently swung her legs over to the edge of the bed, and planted her feet on the floor to stand up. Did she grow just a little taller? She couldn’t tell.

The mirror caught her attention. It was behind her door. Standing up, the wary first queen was slow with her steps, until she stood in front of the mirror and just stared at herself. Blonde-ish(?) ends of hair nicely blending into black. And not to complain, she thought it looked nice. But... it was all so weird. A bit of a medium/olive complexion to her skin, too. Albeit this was honestly the strangest thing she’d seen in so long, she was smiling just a little bit. “I look rather nice. Is this my new body now?”

The bustling from downstairs caught her attention just a mere minute or two after that. Grabbing the phone off of her nightstand, she just went on downstairs. Maybe whoever was here could help her navigate the new device? The steps on the stairs began to catch the attention of Anne Boleyn. Turning around, the second queen raised an eyebrow as to who she was being graced by. “Well, looks like it’s now two of us in the house. Who are you, again?”

“Catherine of Aragon. And you must be?”

Anne Boleyn felt her face turn pale for a moment. Aragon was in front of her. She nervously tugged at the collar of her green sweatshirt. “Boleyn. Anne Boleyn.” And it was at that moment the animosity in the room rose up, but Aragon calmed herself down. This wasn’t the past, and she had to accept that. “I see. One of Henry’s mistresses. Well, that matters not since... these look like different times. What year is it?” That’s right. Boleyn now realized Aragon had just woken up from that same eternal slumber.

“2019, apparently. That’s what this says, anyways. I did a lot of reading yesterday. We’re holding phones. It’ll be a bit of an adjustment from our old lives, but I like it. We’re... free, if you really want to think about it. We don’t have to worry about being left by one man, or beheaded in my case,” Boleyn lifted her jaw up just a little to reveal the thin, yet present scar on her neck. “Do you think there’s people behind the other doors, Aragon?”

“I mean, I saw my goddaughter’s name on one of those doors. Catherine Parr. Could it really be true that she comes back?”

“Well, my cousin’s name is on a door too. Katherine Howard. Speaking of, Aragon. I managed to learn my way around the phone. Looked up some stuff. I know, it’s weird, but very handy actually. I wanted to do more research on Henry. Turns out, there were many more women than we could count. The names on the doors all came up, and it says they were also all wives of Henry. I mean, maybe they don’t mind talking to us? Well, that’s if they’re... as lucky as we’ve been.”

A pause, followed by a gasp.

“I just realized how pretty you are! You are really, really pretty, Aragon!” The first wife was taken aback by the sudden comment. However, it brought a smile to her lips. “Thank you! You’re very pretty yourself. And you seem to be a rather nice person, despite... you know.” All that got was a chuckle from Boleyn.

“Yellow must be your thing, huh. It’s not a color one sees every day.” “Well, I’m not the one dressed like envy.” “Oh, ha ha. Funny. Anyways, you just woke up unexpectedly too?”

Catherine of Aragon nodded. She found herself sitting down on the large couch,  with Anne Boleyn sitting on the extreme end of it. “Yeah. My body... well, spirit, I should say... feels like it still has a purpose in the world. I wonder if my gracious Lord brought me back to fulfill that purpose I have yet to discover. I mean, no one wakes up in a new body out of the blue one day. Maybe we have a bigger purpose here and that’s why we were brought back.”

“Well, if the screen doesn’t lie... it says Henry had six wives–”

“Wait, I'm sorry.... six wives?”

Right. Aragon had no actual knowledge of the other wives, only of Anne due to her being the reason her marriage was destroyed. With a sharp inhale, the Spaniard just kept her cool. All she could do was hope that no chaos would actually come out of all of this. “As if three mistresses wasn’t bad enough. Anyways, Anne... when did you wake up in your new body?”

“Yesterday. I’m just as confused as you are. All of this isn’t the 1500s, huh mate?” A chuckle. Humor, something Boleyn was proud she kept all her years. It even got a chuckle out of the first wife. “I’m sure we’ll manage. Everything will be okay, hopefully. Besides... I think this is a good time for us to start over.”

“Maybe. Let’s see how this goes.”

Spending the rest of the day with Anne Boleyn wasn’t too bad. With what she was able to figure out, Boleyn sat down with Catherine of Aragon and went on to help her figure out her the rest of the day. In fact, it wasn’t too bad of a day. It was perfectly calm, and even full of laughter at some point.

Welcome to the modern age, Catherine of Aragon. There’s four of you left. Will it be your goddaughter, Catherine Parr, that wakes up next? Or could it be another one of the queens? Let’s find out the outcome. But you all have something greater to do. You’re one of a kind, no category. Too many years, lost in history. You’re free to take your crowning glory for five more minutes. You’re SIX.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn

[cowandcalf]

10.12 – Review and Spoilers

and some I-got-carried-away thoughts on Steve's character – meta-ish and super long

I wasn't sure what to expect from this episode and I got rewarded with so many magnificent details, especially with a lot of wonderful glimpses into Steve's personality when he's competing with someone. And this said someone is not only a former team guy but this someone also drives a Ferrari and has an impressive reputation and is a hidden fan of a so-called Steve McGarrett. Magnum is such a big fan that even his own team he's working with nowadays has heard all about the legendary McGarrett moves and ops and stories. And that speaks of such a high respect Magnum has for Steve McGarrett that everything else just fades away. Magnum's respect and the honor he feels for being with Steve is real. There's this deep understanding that Steve's ready to accept at the end of the day. But only after Magnum has proved himself being worthy.

But I'm not there yet. Whoa, getting derailed so fast right from the start. So that's what I'm gonna write about most in this review: Steve and his attitude, the SEAL spirit and a bit about Magnum because he's the reason Steve acts the way he does. And I'll write about Danny, about the omnipresent, strong, gorgeous, leaving-visible-dents-in Steve's-emotional-armor presence of Danny energy. God, those references about Danny during the entire episode…I loved those! The way Steve's partner came up and was mentioned every now and then was just a blessing for my McDanno heart.

And Steve's response to Magnum's actions also speaks volumes about the relationship he has with Danny. I hope I can get it out the way I feel it. I hope, in the end, everything makes sense.

This episode is fun to watch, Steve and Magnum are all about Alpha moves, flexing muscles and showing off, trying to make an impression on the other man – in a very silent, kind of cautious, intelligent way, of course. Like the archaic animals, these men are deep inside, well-hidden. They must mark their territory. They need to check the other out before they even think about being appreciative of each other. At least, Steve acts this way. Magnum tries to wrap his mind around the fact that he's actually working a case with the human legend he's fanboying over for years, apparently.

I grew up with Tom Selleck as Magnum and his trademark, the mustache, the red Ferrari and his stupid tight blue jeans with the belt. Anyway, Magnum, in my inner world is a tree of a man, tall and super hairy and intimidating. Higgins is a whiny, rich, wobbly guy with two wonderful Doberman pinscher. And I just needed some time to get used to a smaller Magnum, with no hairy arms and legs and a female Higgins with an impressive, wonderful British accent. And even though the Magnum Pi guys did a great job, they didn't grow on me. I appreciate Magnum (the new one) for completely other reasons that have entirely to do with Steve and Danny.

Okay, we have the first encounter of the two teams. I have to emphasize another important observation and it's an ongoing feeling throughout the episode. The H50 team, the ohana bond and everything they talk about are so rich in colors, so vivid and alive and so full of honest feelings. That's how I get the vibes. Higgins and Magnum are nice…they are okay…but they didn't manage to leave an impression…and I'm sorry but I can't really make it work. Their banter seems stages, not really coming from inside and from a place of true fondness. It's…just not flowing. At least, not for me. No offense, but I can't make it work with Higgins and Magnum.

That said, seeing both teams meet just highlights the significant difference in the spirit everyone emanates. And all the H50 ohana breathes a huge amount of charisma and freaking great vibes. And I love that!

When the H50 team digests the information of Higgins who has been an ex-spy, Steve eyes her with a silent jolt in his behavior. He takes her in with that measured look and it just occurred to me that once again he's confronted with a special female species. Tough woman, working for an agency, has been a spy once and it reminds him instantly, alarmingly intense of two women who have played a significant role in his life: Steve's mother Doris and Catherine Rollins.

Steve mentions that he likes "this one", pointing to Higgins and he lets her talk but the moment that it's out she's an ex-spy Steve takes a step back inwardly and he gives her a quick all-over. That's a fascinating moment.

Magnum: "McGarrett, I know that name, you're a team guy, right? I was a team guy, too."

And Steve's answer to that, completely flabbergasted: "Is that right?" (Because what the hell?)

Steve deals with the second, silent emotional blow within a few seconds. He's not prepared to meet a former SEAL. And because Steve's bound to every SEAL with a code of honor it's literally visible how his mind works overtime to get things right in his head. This Hawaiian-shirt-wearing-bare-legged-sun-tanned guy is a former SEAL?? And Steve's anyway a bit pissed because he got an anonymous tip from a male voice leading him in the right direction. And now, he's been told that it's this guy. Steve's not fond of such moments. And he stays skeptical although his inner conviction doesn't allow him to be distant. SEALs are brothers, no matter what.

There's more!

Steve warms up to Magnum. He addresses him as, "and you Mr. Private investigator you come with me."

Steve's forceful Alpha move number one is to convince Magnum somehow to let him drive the Ferrari. Okay, here's what I think about that.

It's about ranks and pack order. it's about the high respect Magnum has for Steve and because he's a brother, one of the reasons why legends get written. It's because of guys like McGarrett that legends live on. Because McGarrett is a freaking hero! And Magnum has no problem with all of this. He doesn't need to inflate his ego by fighting Steve. In fact, he understands Steve, he feels his brother and he lets him drive, bowing to the force of nature that is Steve McGarrett. Magnum pays respect to this man and honors his service just by this move. I might exaggerate a bit but seriously, that's how I see it.

And just for the record, Steve…oh well, Steve needs a boost for his ego. He needs to show that he's the Alpha and that's he has a say in this. He needs to know he wrestled Magnum into submission and is kind of blockhead, too busy to enjoy the moment and that he made it behind the steering wheel. He's so smug and confident and almost combusts with all the joy and the arousal to have his hands on the steering wheel of this freaking, awesome Ferrari-stud! Jesus! I know he's hard while he stomps the gas! Come on, Steve, admit it!

And Magnum has the freaking nerve to mention Danny (your partner) and tells Steve right to his face that Danny doesn't do well with riding always in the passenger's seat. But Steve's glowing and the hidden smile shines through when he confirms in this classical, smug way that Danny's okay with him driving Danny's car. That's almost the cutest thing ever.

Steve, dude!

And then, Christ! The 'white knight' conversation happens. I try to summarize this. Steve reads. He reads books written by former SEALs, or about the experiences of former SEALs.

Steve: "Entertaining but unrealistic though. There's no way a character that cocky would ever, ever make it through BUD/s."

He's seriously impressed that Magnum knows the author of that said book. In fact, Robin the author is Magnum's boss. And it gets better. The 'wight knight' has left an impression on Steve. Steve admires this guy!! This cocky guy couldn't have made it through BUD/s, nu-huh, no freaking way!

Steve: "So, you're sayin' you're the white knight?"

Magnum: "Well, that's classified. But I will say that the lead character is based on a heroic, charismatic individual who will do anything to get the job done."

Guess, what? Robin has been embedded with Magnum's team for the research on this book. So, Magnum answers with Steve's favorite line - that's classified! Come on!!! That's totally Steve's mojo! And Steve's face! I can't even. He looks at Magnum and all of Steve screams what the fuck, man?

And it dawns on Steve that this cocky bastard he thinks would never, ever make it through BUD/s is in fact – Magnum! The realization…hilarious! Steve's brain shifts into gear and he can hardly believe what he's just discovered.

Steve, with a soft smile: "…I might be in the presence of greatness right now."

Then, that scene where Magnum picks the lock with his tools and Steve watches. Steve plays the correct cop who seems to follow the rules. He lets Magnum open the door though, causing a crime but the important detail is the fact that Steve points to the badge to emphasize he can't break the rules.

I remember a scene where Steve and Danny stand in front of a closed door and Danny thinks about how to get in while Steve just kicks down the door. Danny yells at him and calls him 'a Neanderthal animal' but follows him regardless of what Steve just did. Steve loves to get Danny's attention no matter how this happens. Ranting always means caring and Steve bathes in Danny's way of caring.

Magnum finds the documents hidden under the fridge. Steve makes it up to him with his compliment. "Nice found!" only to pull the next Alpha move of hastily reading the documents written in Chinese, completely ignoring Magnum.

And that scene where Magnum disarms Steve, dislodging the clip of his gun because the perp told him so. That's also a great moment, revealing what Danny has known for a long time. Steve has feelings for his gun. Magnum does as he's been told and pulls the gun from the holster. Steve's senses are on high alert and he sells out Magnum to the perp. Steve searches for a way out, but his real concerns are on his weapon. The way the sheer disbelief shows on his face when Magnum carelessly throws his gun into the bushes almost hurts and makes me laugh at the same time. Steve can't believe how disrespectful Magnum treats his gun! That's such a great moment.

Steve's excitement about driving a Ferrari is infectious. I'm sensing Alex' and Chi's personality seeping through their characters of Steve and Lou when they whisper conspiratorially about how it feels to drive a Ferrari. There's so much passion, breathlessness, and this male want and I love that short, intense moment so much.

The other, sweet glimpse of how Steve feels about Danny comes next. The team watches Magnum and Higgins bicker (I'm not fond of that bickering, too staged, too little heart and honesty in it, doesn't catch my attention) but anyway, the team exchanges funny looks, and Lou asks if they are reminded of anyone by watching the argument of the other two. Steve doesn't even bat an eye, and no one can draw a breath and his reply follows like a shot.

Steve: "Danny and I aren't like that."

Steve instantly catches on who his ohana talks about. He denies everything about what they are teasing about. Steve utters his comment on the topic with a finale tone, like anything about him and Danny bickering is non-negotiable. His arms are crossed over his chest and his stance is wide and solid, unmovable. No one touches Danny! Forbidden territory. Period. And I love that moment, it doesn't even last three seconds but it talks volumes how Steve feels about Danny.

Now, let's talk also about this epic scene in the car when Steve gets a ride by Magnum's team.

Steve: "I would've called my people, but Magnum insisted on calling you guys."

Magnum wanted his team to meet this legend, Steve McGarrett because he knows how much this would mean to his guys! That's so cute and sweet and lovely and really, really kind and deep. I have feelings about this, Magnum genuinely admires Steve, being a SEAL with every fiber of his body and soul. Heaven help!

And before Magnum's team can catch up Magnum has a little chit-chat on his own with Steve and about being a SEAL and about…so much for "no man left behind". Again, some arm-wrestling to prove who's stronger but there's no heat behind that argument more like old buddies catching up.

And then…ohmygod!! TC is my hero! TC says one of the most epic sentences ever in this episode! I'm still reeling from those words. They are super great, sweet Jesus!

TC: "I'm sorry, but I got to ask. There's this SEAL named McGarrett that we always used to hear about. Fought in Operation Avalanche and the Battle of Garmsir. He also led the team that rescued those hostages in Karachi."

THAT'S PURE ADMIRATION RIGHT THERE!! Not only does this mean that Magnum has been gushing about McGarrett all the time because he's so fond of this guy and full of admiration, no, it also shows us what kind of hero Steve is. But SEALs don't talk about their work. They just get the job done and move on. They work in the shadows.

But Steve answers that kind of question…like:

Steve: "Yeah, yeah, that was me."

I mean…*LE GASP*!! WHAT?? How can he just give such a flat-out super direct answer and admitting every-fucking-thing?? I was like…BACKPADDLE! I CAN'T KEEP UP WITH WHAT JUST HAPPENED!

I mean. Whoa! From all the moments Danny has been asking Steve questions about his work in the Navy and as a SEAL there was always the same answer is given by Steve: "I neither can confirm nor deny it." Or my favorite one: "This is classified." And those answers always drove Danny up the wall and into more ranting.

Do you remember the time where the H50 team was allowed to join the operation room from an active SEAL operation? They helped to solve a case where a drug lord (I guess) was involved and they could watch the last op where a SEAL team took out the targets and killed all the tangos. So, and there was Danny asking Steve inappropriate questions about "Operation Strawberry field"…he was making fun of Steve in an odd Danny way. Joe White was quite fed up with Danny's attitude and he glared at him to get him to shut up. Steve seemed really a bit ashamed of Danny's disrespectful behavior.

Anyway, when Danny saw the live feed on how the SEAL team breached the house and how they were killing with precision and a tough skill set every target on place he suddenly went all quiet. He whispered to Steve: "You did that too?" with a tight voice. But Steve only said that he could neither confirm nor deny this question.

The realization of Steve's assigned task as a SEAL hits Danny like being clocked with a brick. But anyway, Danny has never admired Steve's SEAL career in an open way because he knew already then, that Steve's ego is about as big as Texas anyway. But that moment had an impact on Danny and he started to get the big picture.

Okay, let's go back to Steve's answer: Yeah, yeah, that was me. Maybe he said that because he still feels a bit intimidated and surprised by sitting next to the 'white knight'.

The way Steve's answered TC kind of caught me off guard. He's admitting so openly that he was the one leading those operations and he kind of enjoys the admiration (he soaks it up like a dry sponge…to be honest). He really loves being the center of the attention and that's a new one. It's touching how much TC and Rick are really into Steve and his way of being a real hero.

And then TC goes for the kill: "Man, do you realize this is the same cat that took out Anton and Victor, Hess?"

Hello?? TC addresses Steve as 'the same cat'…God! This is highly seductive and hot…as in stealthy, lethal, super primal jungle cat…I mean, what the hell, TC?

The guys are not finished yet.

TC: "This dude is a legit legend."

And here comes Rick: "You know, and I'm glad you brought it up because I-I just want to say, sir, it's an honor." (and he turns to look at Steve.)

Steve: "Thanks, bud."

TC: "We are in the presence of greatness."

(I'm so dead! This is so emotional and I love TC and Rick and Magnum, too because they are pure bliss for Steve's soul and heart.)

And it's not finished yet! There's this last scene where Steve thanks Magnum for working with him on the case. Steve had fun.

Magnum sees Joe White's picture on the wall and they talk about Joe. Steve is moved and there's a short flare of pain but the bonding happens over the fact that Magnum also knew Joe as one of the best instructors ever. And not only is Steve a legend but also in Magnum's eyes, he's also been close to Joe White. Magnum is a decent guy. There's no jealousy coming off of Magnum, only camaraderie and the joy to have gotten to know another brother. And I really love that about him.

I really appreciate the fact that Magnum offers Steve in a nice way to sit down and to talk. Let's grab a beer some time, referring to them as 'us team guys got to stick together' and Steve says 'yes' and not only that.

Steve: "Maybe you can bring those boys along. They're good for the ego."

And Steve shows Magnum the long-overdue respect by calling him the White Knight and telling him his secret is safe with him. Seriously, what a pile of emotions.

And that's such a sweet, honest thing to say and it's Steve who admits it. I just love this scene. And all these moments are also soaked with Danny's energy. First, Magnum wants to meet Steve's partner. Danny's kind of legend too, I guess. Who could keep up with the legit legend Steve McGarrett? This must be one of a kind. And Danny knew Joe White. Danny has been there when Steve just quit the SEALs to start Five-O. He has been with Steve all the time. Danny has helped him to adjust, to find his footing after being in the Navy for years.

And Danny has never been openly impressed by Steve's crazy. He always calls him out on his recklessness. He gives Steve a hard time and rants at him and tries to talk some sense into him. Danny has an unmatched backbone like no other and Steve admires that with all he's got.

And, of course, Steve wants to drag Danny along when they'll have that beer because he doesn't want to miss out on any of Danny's reactions when TC and Rick are all over Steve and fanboying like there's no tomorrow. What a show!

Okay, let's sum it up – it was a great episode with tons of hidden treasure I tried to dig up a bit. The last scenes are great, too. I love that Tani gives Junior a call and asks him out on a date. June sweet eye-widening speaks a silent, strong language and then…THAT CLIFFHANGER!! Oh god!!

Guys, that's it. I have nothing more to add only to emphasize how much secrets I've gotten to discover due to Magnum's attitude to treat Steve the way he did. And through Magnum Steve reveals a lot about how he feels about Danny and much more.

10.12 – another great episode.

Fin

#steve mcgarrett #h50 #h50edit #danny williams #mcdanno #meta #review #10.12 #review on 10.12 #my edit #episode meta #steve meta #cowandcalf muses #it's so freaking long #i can't help it #it makes sense to me #i hope it makes sense to you

[unhauntng]

heaven help the fool who falls in love (parrlyn) (2)

1

Anne came to slowly. At first, she was only aware of the fact that she felt comfortable and safe, warm in the early morning light. Gradually, she realised that her surroundings weren’t the ones that she was familiar — this wasn’t the room that she had grown accustomed to waking up in.

All it took was a quick glance to her side to realise that she was in Parr’s bed, the other girl sleeping peacefully next to her. With the early morning light streaming in through the window, it suddenly struck Anne, and not for the first time, just how beautiful Catherine Parr was.

The pale morning sun covered her face in dappled shades of pink and orange, and Anne felt her heart leap in her chest.

It also didn’t escape her notice how close the two of them were; Parr’s legs were tangled up with her own, to the point where she couldn’t separate herself without waking up the other girl, and Anne was practically spooning Cathy.

Anne wanted to roll away, shocked by the feeling of contentment in her chest. She had realised for a while now that she had feelings for Catherine, but she had been hoping that she could live in denial for a little while longer at the very least. Instead, the world seemed to be against her, as normal, and had thrust her into this situation.

She couldn’t bear to tear herself away from the other girl, for both selfish and selfless reasons: there was a forbidden sense of satisfaction that she gained from being like this with Parr, but she also couldn’t stand the idea of disturbing her sleep.

Cathy was also taking care of people, but Boleyn knew that the other girl had her own issues. Henry had traumatised her just as much as he had the rest of them, regardless of whether or not she had outlived him. Besides that, Catherine had been married twice back then before Henry just to survive in that vicious world.

Parr spent so much time focused on making sure that the others, including Boleyn herself, were alright that she forgot to take care of herself. Thanks to their growing closeness, Anne was privy to the way that Parr kept herself up for far too long, reading and writing into the early hours of the morning. In fact, Anne was surprised that the other girl was even asleep at this time.

It always shocked Anne, despite her internal acknowledgment of her own feelings, just how comfortable and serene she felt around Parr. Sure, she was close with the others, but there was this connection between her and Cathy that meant that Anne always felt a kind of calm around her, like she could be herself without boundaries and fear.

The house was quiet, and, apart from the sound of birds outside the window, the world seemed to be too. It was like there was only Cathy and Anne, and she wouldn’t want it any other way. But she felt a sort of guilt for enjoying the moment.

She knew that there was no way that Cathy felt the same way about her, and that it was wrong to revel in this moment when the other girl was asleep. Still, Anne couldn’t bring herself to extract herself from the pretzel created out of her legs, Cathy’s and the duvet.

Suddenly, she felt Cathy begin to stir, and Anne internally freaked the fuck out. She didn’t want Cathy to react badly to this situation, despite the fact that sharing a bed was inevitably going to lead to this.

The other girl began to wake up, and Anne slid her eyes shut and tried to keep her breathing even so that Parr might think that she was still asleep. She felt Cathy startle when she realised how close they were, before the other girl extracted herself from the bed and from Anne’s embrace, with Boleyn hearing Cathy pad softly to the door and leave the room.

She listened to the door close with a click, before sighing and opening her eyes once more, dropping her façade of sleep.

Anne wasn’t sure if she could stand the silence of Cathy’s bedroom without the other girl, but it would be far too suspect for her to go downstairs to the kitchen now. Instead, she settled for scrolling mindlessly through her phone for a while, wasting time until she could feasibly fake just waking up.

Right when she was about to set her phone down and head downstairs to the kitchen for some breakfast, the door creaked open softly. Cathy poked her head in, as if she was checking on Boleyn. Anne stared at the other girl, unconsciously flushing.

‘I, uh, brought you some breakfast.’ Cathy stammered slightly as she opened the door wider to reveal that she was carrying a tray laden with a plate of toast, a cup of coffee, some orange juice and one of Aragon’s yogurts that she didn’t let anyone else touch.

‘Did you seriously steal one of Aragon’s yogurts for me?’ Was Anne’s first question, for some reason, likely due to her internal panic. All systems were failing and alarms were blaring, but Anne faked calm.

Cathy laughed, a soft, slightly self-conscious noise that had Anne going through heart palpitations. ‘I know how much you love them. Plus, I thought annoying her would be your aim anyway, so really I just fulfilled your mission in your absence.’

Anne nodded, laughing slightly at the other girl’s reason. ‘You know me so well,’ she joked, but immediately felt her cheeks flush with a scarlet blush. Parr ducked her head as she nodded, passing the tray to Anne, who was still sat on the bed. ‘You know you didn’t have to do this for me, right?’ She said in as soft a voice as she could manage.

Parr shrugged. ‘I know last night you slept better than normal, but I wanted to make sure that you really knew that I’m there for you no matter what. This is a token, Anne.’ Boleyn felt a wave of guilt when she remembered how she faked sleep earlier that morning, but smiled in thanks anyway.

Truthfully, Parr’s actions both warmed her heart and confused her at the same time. It was sweet how caring she was, and how much effort she put into everyone else, and it honestly just endeared Anne further to the other girl. But, on the other hand, she didn’t understand why Cathy would dedicate so much effort and time to her of all people. Anne certainly didn’t deserve it.

Rather than express any of that, Anne simply accepted the tray and held out a slice of toast in offering. ‘Everything is better shared, right?’ She smiled slightly, and felt a spark of joy in her chest when Cathy laughed, and sat beside her.

‘That really wasn’t the point, Anne.’

‘Oh, shut up and eat some toast, Cathy.’

Silence passed between them before Anne broke it. ‘So, tell me honestly. How many nightmares did you have about that film last night?’

‘At least ten million, I hate you for making us watch that.’

--

’Do you guys want to go out today or something?’ Anne whined. It was a Saturday morning and she felt like they hadn’t done anything together for ages.

The rest of the Queens looked at each other and shrugged.

’I mean, I’m up for it.’ Aragon said. ‘But someone else needs to come because if it’s just me and Anne, there will be a murder.’

’I would totally win, for the record.’

’Boleyn, you would literally just flail the whole time, like you usually do. Aragon would smoke your ass.’ Cleves snorted, and Anne pouted at her.

’I dunno, I wouldn’t bet against Anne.’ Howard mused, accepting the high five Anne enthusiastically gave in response almost absent-mindedly. ‘She would tired Aragon out with her never-ending energy. Plus, she runs really fast — Aragon would have to catch her first.’

Rather pettily, Anne stuck her tongue out at Aragon in victory, but flinched back when the other girl glared at her.

Jane rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll come too. You guys need someone to babysit.’

Anne literally clapped her hands with glee, ignoring some of the incredulous looks that she earned from the other queens. ‘Great! Anna? Kitty?’

The two queens looked at each other before turning back to Boleyn and shaking their heads in unison. ‘Nah, I think that were are just going to stay in. Kitty wants to watch this new Netflix show and I promised that I would watch it with her.’ Anna explained.

Anne shrugged. ‘Your loss. Seymour, Aragon, and me then. Parr?’ She turned to the last queen, who had been rather silent this whole time. Truthfully, Anne was really hoping that Cathy would decide to come — she didn’t want to spend the whole day third wheeling Aragon and Seymour.

’Sure, I’ll come. I think we need to go food shopping anyway.’ Cathy said, shrugging indifferently.

’Ugh, you guys make everything so boring. This wasn’t supposed to be a Tesco’s trip.’ Anne rolled her eyes, but was obviously joking.

’Someone around her has to be responsible,’ Aragon snarked, frowning at Boleyn.

Cathy rolled her eyes now. ‘Leave Anne alone, she was joking.’ She defended, flushing slightly when Aragon turned her withering glare against her in turn.

’Can we just go before war is declared?’ Jane said, rubbing her temples. ‘We’ll go to Tesco’s and then we’ll see what happens.

Anne pouted but got to her feet. It wasn’t exactly how she planned to spend the day, but if she got to do it with Parr, it would surely be better than otherwise.

--

Things had already gone wrong, practically from the moment that they entered the supermarket. Honestly, it was Anne’s own fault.

Jane had warned her almost constantly as they approached Tesco’s that she had to behave well, but rather than heed Seymour’s wise advice, she elected to hop inside a trolley at her first opportunity, careening forward with the momentum of her initial jump.

Before she could crash into a display or another person, Cathy grabbed the handle of the trolley. ‘Jane, you and Aragon go look in the first half of the aisles. Ane and I will handle the other half.’

Jane and Aragon exchanged unreadable looks before nodding and walking off. It was now just Anne and Cathy, and she suddenly felt her palms begin to sweat.

’Where to first, boss? I’m in your hands.’ Anne tried for a cheeky grin to cover how senselessly nervous she was around Parr. The other girl rolled her eyes fondly before carting Anne off in the other direction.

Despite their initial attempts to focus on the task at hand — granted, Anne’s efforts had never been dedicated ones — they quickly got off task. ‘Bet you that you can’t push me from one end of the supermarket to the other.’ Anne challenged the other girl, who’s eyes sparked with the prospect of a competition.

’I’ll totally be able to do it.’ Parr scoffed, before dragging Anne to the proverbial starting line. Parr took a readying breath before shoving the trolley forward and leaping on the back of it.

All that was audible was their cackling and screams as they streaked through the aisle, crashing violently into the shelves at the end. Parr fell off the back of the trolley whilst Anne was slightly dazed and bruised even inside the metal cart.

It only took one look between them for both of them to burst out into laughter, endlessly amused by their own idiocy. However, once Anne had managed to sober, she found herself looking at Cathy again.

Somehow, even sprawled across the linoleum floor of their local Tesco’s, the other girl managed to radiate beauty in a way that truly astounded Anne. Her emotions felt electric, buzzing in her chest so that she couldn’t ignore or dismiss them anymore, ending any chance of her being able to shove these feelings down again.

Aragon’s yell started her out of her entranced stupor, snapping her head in the direction of the sound.

’I guess they know that it was us, then.’ Boleyn tried for a sheepish smile, but she was still shaken slightly.

Cathy laughed, and got to her feet. ‘Just deny, deny, deny, Annie.’

For once, and likely because of the way that it sounded falling from Cathy lips, Anne didn't protest at the sound of the nickname.

--

Anne Boleyn wasn’t stupid, no matter what certain people thought and argued. She could tell when the others were keeping things from her. The sly looks and careful whispers were far too familiar from her time at court.

’So, Jane-y.’ She began, a sugary sweet smile on her face.

’Don’t call me that, but go on?’ The other queen replied, even as she focused on the brownie batter that she was mixing.

’Care to let me in on what y’all have been whispering and conniving about behind my back?’ Anne had to try tremendously hard to not let both mischief and hurt slip into her voice, instead keeping it light and casual.

Nonetheless, Jane froze, her expression professing all the guilt that Anne needed. ‘Look, it’s nothing. Not worth talking about.’

’Y’all are some shady bitches. Howard will tell me.’ Anne said, half-joking and half-sincere. Life at Henry’s court had led to her getting stabbed rather thoroughly in the back, and then chopped rather efficiently through her neck, thanks to Henry taking ‘mercy’ on her, and assigning a skillful executioner equipped with a sword rather than an axe — how decent of him.

Jane turned to face her then. ‘Look, you can ask Howard if you want, but I promise that it’s nothing bad. You know we wouldn’t do that to you.’

Anne considered her words before nodding and silently walking away. That was the calmest she had ever acted in such a situation, and she hoped that it successfully showed how annoyed she was about it. These were people that she trusted, and Anne didn’t want to have to worry about what was being said behind her back in her own home.

’Kitty!’ She called in a sing-song tone as she opened her cousin’s bedroom door. Howard and Anne had never been close back in the day, but now things were far better between them. Even back then, Anne had never wanted Katherine to marry Henry — not because she had been married to him, but because he was a literal monster, and Howard, no matter what Anne thought of her back then, didn’t deserve that. No one did.

Howard looked up when she heard Anne’s voice. Warily, she asked, ‘what’s going on?’

’You guys are talking about something behind my back.’ Kitty’s face immediately went as white as a sheet, but Anne pressed on. ‘Tell me what it’s about.’

Any threat that Anne would make against Howard would be totally empty but the other girl didn’t have to know that, which was the whole point.

’I’m not sure?’ Kitty lied, rather obviously, before shaking her head. ‘Okay, I do, but it isn’t bad.’

Anne frowned. ‘What is it then?’

’Just that you obviously like Parr, which is chill, obviously, but, yeah.’ Her cousin floundered for a second before tailing off quietly, whilst Anne felt her heart almost beat out of her body.

Of course the others had realised. She knew that she wasn’t subtle, but had hoped that heteronormativity would prevail and ensure that she would make it through. Instead, it appeared that the world still had it out for her.

’Does Cathy know?’ She breathed out, imploring her cousin.

As soon as the question had entered her mind, Anne felt her heart face with nerves. She couldn’t know, that would ruin everything. Thankfully, though, Howard shook her head vehemently.

’No, no, no, Cathy is almost as oblivious as you.’

’What’s that supposed to mean?’

Howard instantly paled and shook her head. ‘Nothin!’ She squeaked out, before darting from the room. ‘Bye, Annie!’ Anne was left with a racing heart, a head full of questions, and doubt whirling in her stomach until she felt nauseous at even the thought of Cathy knowing about her one-sided feelings for her.

#parrlyn #parrlyn fic #anne boleyn #catherine parr #cathy parr #catherine of aragon #jane seymour #anna of cleves #katherine howard #six #six the musical #sixthemusical #six fanfic #six fic

[yourdeepestfathoms]

and then you became the moon (part 1)

you’ve heard of the fics about how the queens met and got close now get ready for: that but with the ladies in waiting and it’s mainly about Bessie and Maggie

this fic is heavily based on some amazing headcanons by @the-k-howard-look which i absolutely LOVE! seriously they are so freaking cute and i love reading over a lot, so i had to do something with them!

TW: None, I believe, but let me know if there are any

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

It was raining.

Four women sat in a back room of a theater on that fateful day, staring at each other in silence. It was a little awkward to say the least, but, eventually, one of them spoke up.

   “Well, I guess I’ll take one for the team,” She said, “I’m Maria de Salinas. I was Catherine of Aragon’s lady in waiting.”

The most noticeable thing about her was her curly, frizzy hair, but also her kind eyes, which were similar to that of a gentle doe gazing at you from the forest. Out of all of them, she was definitely the most laid back and calm one.

   “Maria,” The woman to her left said, “Yes, you’re not exactly hard to forget. Especially with that mane.”

Maria grinned at her.

   “Good to see you too, Bess.”

The woman had her arms crossed over her chest and sat up straight, holding herself in a defensive posture in a way. Her build was similar to a bear’s, but she had the eyes of a harpy eagle and the hands of a wolf.

   “Elizabeth Blount,” She introduced herself, “But I prefer to go by Bessie. I was a lady in waiting to several queens.”

   “Oh yeah, I remember you!” The blonde across from her pipes up. She’s not as relaxed as Maria, but is definitely more loosened up than the other two. However, she looked well built and strong. “I don’t think we talked much, though. Anyway, I’m Joan Meutas, but I think my name is sometimes Jane? It’s Joan, though. Jane Seymour was my mistress.”

   “Joan, Jane,” Maria shrugged, “They’re easy to mix up.”

Joan laughed a little, already matching well with Maria’s carefree, friendly demeanor.

   “Yeah. It’s strange.”

Maria nodded and then looked to the last of the group.

She was young, no more than seventeen at best, and was awfully scrawny. Her brown hair was a mess upon her head, she was very pale, except for the dark red flush on her cheeks, and she was shivering, but her pale blue eyes still remained very beautiful, despite how glassy they looked.

   “Oh. I’m Margaret Lee. You can just call me Maggie.” She said and her voice is very hoarse.

Bessie perks a little upon hearing her name, which makes Maria glance at her, but she settles quickly.

   “Are you okay?” Joan asks the youngest, slight worry glinting in her eyes.

   “Yeah,” Maggie replied swiftly, “Just a little cold, that’s all.”

   “It has been raining for awhile.” Maria nodded.

A few moments later, a woman enters, introducing herself as Sasha. She began to explain the show, telling the four of them about how they were going to be the band for the queens.

   “Can’t wait to stand in the background!” Maria said and Joan snorted.

Although actually being able to perform would be fun, the group accepted that they were just going to be the ones who played the music. At least they were being paid.

Over the next few days, basic rundowns were gone through, and it wasn’t long before the sheet music for the first song was given. However, something else was happening.

The youngest of the group, Maggie, was definitely getting sicker. She came in looking more and more feverish as each day passed. It was worrying, of course, but Bessie seemed to be the most concerned. A strange maternal feeling kept welling up inside of her each time she saw the girl. Perhaps it was because she had died giving birth to her daughter, who was also named Margaret.

Maybe...

No.

No, Margaret Lee was not her Margaret. She was just missing her baby, which was also weird because she had seven kids, so you would think she would get tired of holding a screaming bundle that looked like a wrinkly tomato.

But something about Margaret...

The name was special, at least to Bessie. It had been suggested to her by Lady Anna of Cleves, who she had been working under while pregnant. The two of them mused about baby Margaret without even knowing if she WOULD be a girl. Although, Anna knew for a fact that she would be, though.

And she had been right.

Unfortunately, she never got to meet baby Margaret, like Bessie, who only held on long enough to name the infant.

What if this was her second chance at being there for her Margaret?

No! No. No, that was just absurd.

However, her motherly instincts continued to flare, especially when she noticed Maggie starting to sway during rehearsals.

   “Margaret!”

Strong arms wrapped around Maggie’s waist when she started to collapse. Her eyes pop open wide and she staggered, trying to push away.

   “Easy. I’ve got you.”

Bessie lowered the two of them to the ground. Maggie presses up against the wall, her cheeks burning in embarrassment. Or maybe that was just the flush from her fever.

   “Sorry,” Maggie whispered, “I just-”

   “No need to apologize, love,” Bessie assured her, “You really shouldn’t be here if you’re sick, though.”

   “No, I’m fine. Really.”

   “Have you taken any medicine?”

Maggie opened her mouth and then closed it. Bessie frowned.

   “Maggie?”

   “Can’t afford it.” Maggie mumbled, bowing her head in shame, “I can barely make rent, so I can’t waste any money on anything else.”

   “Oh, love...”

Maggie shook her head. She pushed herself up to her feet, wobbling a little, but uses the wall for support. Bessie stands quickly, hands hovering out a little, ready to catch the girl in case she fell again.

   “How about to stay with me tonight?”

Maggie froze. She looked at Bessie with wide eyes.

   “What?”

   “Come stay with my at my flat.” Bessie said, “I have medicine.”

   “Bessie, I can’t do that.” Maggie stammered.

   “I insist.” Bessie pressed, “Please, hun, you need time to recover. You’ll only get worse if you don’t take anything. Let me help you.”

Maggie opened her mouth, then shut it. Her hazy mind toiled over what was just presented to her. The codependent part of her couldn’t help but be filled with a sense of need, thinking that this woman really wanted to be around her. The other part, though, was screaming at her to say no. Intruding on Bessie’s home was rude. However, her need to be cared for by someone was much greater than the fear, so she agreed.

It was settled, then. After rehearsals ended, Bessie drove herself and Maggie to her flat. When they got there, Maggie was barely awake in the passenger seat, leaning her head on the seat belt. She was so dazed and out-of-it that she didn’t even hear the driver’s side door closing or her own opening.

Bessie looked down at the girl with a soft smile. She hated to have to disturb her, especially when she looked so peaceful (or as peaceful as one could get when ill), but they had to get inside before the drizzle outside picked up.

   “Maggie, love,” Bessie said softly, lightly pressing on her shoulder to rouse her, “We’re here.”

Maggie’s pale blue eyes fluttered open and she stared at Bessie for a moment before mumbling something incomprehensible and unbuckling her seat belt. Bessie helped her out of the car and up to the flat. The bassist absolutely would have carried the girl, she didn’t look heavy at all and Bessie wasn’t weak by any means, but she felt that that might have been overstepping the boundary. So, instead, she just kept one arm around Maggie’s shoulders for support.

   “Are you okay with animals?” Bessie asked while getting her keys out. She noticed Maggie tense up and frowned. “What’s wrong, love? Are you going to be sick?”

  “Dogs?” Maggie squeaked out.

Bessie furrowed her eyebrows before realizing what the girl meant.

   “Oh, no. I don’t have dogs. Just a cat.”

Maggie relaxed and nodded.

   “Not a fan of dogs, I take it?”

The girl nods again.

Bessie hummed, keeping that in mind.

She opens the door and guides Maggie into her apartment, where they are greeted by a meow from the living room.

   “That old lady is Reefer,” Bessie said, nodding at the tortoiseshell cat. “She’s friendly.”

A small smile twitched on Maggie’s lips when she held out her hand to the cat, who nuzzles her fingers as a hello.

   “She’s pretty,” Maggie murmured.

Bessie smiled a little before pointing out the bathroom and spare bedroom. While doing so, she noticed Maggie struggling to simply follow along with what she was saying. The poor girl needed medicine and she needed it now.

   “Alright, hun,” Bessie set a hand on Maggie’s shoulder when she started to sway, “Let’s get some medicine in you and then you can get changed and take a shower. How does that sound?”

Maggie nodded feebly and Bessie eased her into sitting on the couch while she went to get the medicine. She ended up hunching over, holding her pounding head in both hands. Bessie frowned when she saw this while walking back over.

   “Here, love,” Bessie said softly, holding out a small medicine cup full of a thick scarlet liquid. She chuckled lightly when she saw the bitter face Maggie made. “It’ll help you, I promise.”

Maggie had no other choice but to down the liquid, which left a disgusting taste in her mouth. She shook her head, deciding that she hated medicine, but loved Bessie’s presence and care, so she would deal with it.

After taking a few other things (Bessie was tempted to give her everything she had for an illness, but didn’t want to accidentally overdose the poor thing), Bessie helped Maggie to her feet and guided her over to the bathroom to clean off and get changed into some clothes she was letting her borrow.

After Bessie went back to the kitchen to start dinner, Maggie slipped behind the curtain and stood under the water for a moment. Finally, she moved again, reaching for a bottle of soap and slathering some against her body and-

   “Wait.”

She still had her clothes on. Those had to come off. Of course.

She awkwardly loitered for a second, making sure the soap got out of the fabric of her shirt before stepping onto the floor mat. How delirious and stupid was she? Bathing with her clothes on? Who did that?

Taking off her clothes took great effort, as her limbs seemed to be made of lead. She discarded them in the sink, shuffled back into the shower, and almost immediately spits out the water that beats into her face. Blindly, like she has never bathed before, she paws around for a safe spot from the onslaught.

Normally, a hot shower would be relaxing, but when sick and feverish, it was like a torture segment. Instead of cleaning her, it was scraping her skin off entirely. Claws of fire latch onto frayed edges and tore down, tunneling down into her very core.

Maggie wasn’t going to let herself be defeated by a damn bath. She had the overwhelming urge to punch the spigot, but that probably wouldn’t do much for her. It was made of metal, after all.

All of a sudden, her knees gave in and she snapped out of her reverie when she collapsed to the floor. She reached up to try and regain some mobility, but only succeeded in knocking over every single soap bottle onto herself when her hand slipped on the bar.

Maggie: 0. Shower: 1.

Exhaustion seemed to be bred into her bones. It keeps her from sitting upright and she spends multiple long minutes just lying face-down on the floor, face smothered against puddles of water. She rasps and coughs, rolling heavily onto her side and pulling her legs in close. She pressed her burning forehead against her knees and shivered, despite the temperature of the water.

Resting her eyes for a moment wouldn’t hurt anyone.....

Water bills were a thing, though. And this wasn’t even her house.

Sighing heavily, Maggie pushed herself onto her knees and grabbed a rag to start wiping herself off. She douses her hair in shampoo and uses her nails to scrub the brown locks free from sweat. She repeats this process at least three times before finally twisting the faucet handle. The torrent of liquid fire sputters to a halt.

Lavender-scented steam billowed outward as the shower curtain was yanked open. Maggie paws around for a towel and swathes it around herself. She takes to drying her hair by shaking her head around wildly like a wet dog. Her entire body disagreed with this method, as it made her feel even more woozy, but she didn’t care.

Once she was finished wrestling with her clothes, Maggie sluggishly dragged herself out of the bathroom, still shivering. Bessie peeks out of the kitchen and then hurried over to her.

   “I’m making dinner right now,” She tells her, “Do you want to take a nap while you wait?”

Maggie nodded and Bessie helped her to the extra room, but that’s the last thing she remembered, because she eventually woke up to the sound of music.

Prying open her heavy eyelids, Maggie rolled over and nearly fell right out of the bed, but managed to catch herself before she could smack against the ground. She peeked out of the bedroom and saw Bessie sitting in the living room, strumming at a shiny black and white bass. The hum of the instrument sent vibrations up through Maggie’s body, even at the distance she was standing at. It sounded so beautiful and she couldn’t help but be drawn to it.

Bessie jumped when she noticed the girl slowly approaching her. She halted in her playing and set her bass aside to go check on Maggie.

   “You’re still really hot,” Bessie murmured when she felt Maggie’s forehead, “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”

   “Your playing was really pretty.” Maggie said, her words slurring together.

   “Oh. Thank you.” Bessie said, “Did I wake you?”

   “Pretty...” Maggie just mumbled again. She teeters forward and Bessie quickly catches her. The bassist adjusts her hold, noticing whited out scars running up Maggie’s arms when she does so, but ignores those for now.

   “Okay, love, let’s get you back in bed. You don’t seem to have the energy to eat right now, huh?”

   “Wait-” Maggie’s eyes open quickly. “No. Wanna stay with you.”

   “But-”

   “Please?”

Bessie couldn’t say no to those big blue eyes that gazed up at her, so she agreed and, instead, made Maggie sit down on the couch. The girl curled up against her instantly and those motherly instincts came rushing back. Pushing the boundaries a little, she wrapped an arm around Maggie and pulled her close.

The way the girl snuggled up against her nearly sent Bessie into another plane of existence. There was just something about her that Bessie couldn’t explain, but she wanted to hold her and take care of her like a mother would. She was sure this was just from her missing her baby, and Maggie’s affection towards a woman she’s only known for a week is definitely from her fever, but she liked to think there was some kind of spark between them, even if it was an absurd thought.

Bessie knew, deep down, she shouldn’t get close to Maggie like this, but she couldn’t stop herself when she leaned down and gently kissed the top of the girl’s head.

The sigh of contentment made her heart flutter and she decided to ignore the thoughts saying she shouldn’t do this.

She had her little Margaret back in her arms and she wasn’t going to give that up.

#they have a mother daughter relationship sorry i dont make the rules #it's canon now #I love these two so much #six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #six ff #six fic #bessie on the bass #maggie on the guitar #maria on the drums #joan on the keys #ladies in waiting #band as family #bandily #anna of cleves #catherine of aragon #jane seymour

[sabraeal]

DRUNK OBI AND SUZU DISCUSSION :3 (MODERN AU) PLEASEEE (and thank u so much u rock)

Obi’s just finished laying out their blanket, weighing down the corners with the biggest stones he can find – he suspects that these are really just smoothed out chunks of concrete, probably from when they jackhammered out the original path to put in more eco-friendly boardwalks – when Shidan’s undergrad whips open the cooler and shows just what sort of liquid refreshment he thinks is appropriate for a turtle watch.

Obi goggles. “Is that all beer?”

“Hell yeah, bro.” The undergrad – Suzu, he remembers; he’s really only heard his name shouted across the suite by Yuzuri – pulls out a fancy-looking bottle. “Funky Buddha Morning Wood. And well, some Coronas. I only had enough budgeted for a six pack of the good stuff, so like, I took a page out of the Good Dude’s book and got something top-shelf to start with, and then some weak shit for when we’re too blitzed to care, right?”

Obi doesn’t know where to start with this. Is he supposed to get shitfaced off three beers? Does this guy get shitfaced off three beers?

“The Good Dude?” he says instead, trying to keep his face blank.

“You know.” Suzu shrugs. “Jesus.”

What. The. Fuck.

“Okay,” he says, because what the fuck. “Okay, but I thought we were supposed to be…turtle chaperones, or whatever.”

“Yeah, yeah, I mean…there’s a whole bunch of bottle water on the bottom too.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Gotta stay hydrated, you know.”

“Oh good,” Obi drawls, “at least I know we won’t have to get our stomachs pumped.”

It annoys him how great the beer is.

“I know right?” Suzu reaches out, plucking the empty out of his hand and replacing it with a new one. “Can’t go wrong when you pick ‘em by them stupidest name, right?”

“Right,” Obi echoes, and it’s – it’s weird, the way he feels when that kids says it, when he says something Obi’s thought a thousand times in the safety of his own skull. His heart feels strange, feels full, and he doesn’t even know this guy but…

But maybe he’s okay. For an idiot.

“Where’d you even get all this?” he asks, “Aren’t you underage?”

He turns the bottle over in his hands, just for something to do, and –

Woah, this stuff is twelve percent alcohol by volume? No wonder he’s starting to have feelings and shit. He’d start liking Mihaya after two or three of these.

Suzu waggles his eyebrows, grinning around the lip of the bottle. “Yeah, bro. But I got the hook-ups. Sweet hook-ups.”

“Right, cool.” He’s trying not to laugh at how proud this kid is, but like, what even. “But you know I’m over twenty-one right?”

“Whaat?” Suzu blinks at him owlishly. “Bro, you gotta – you gotta list that among our assets, man!”

He can’t help his grin. “What, a birthday before 1992?”

“Yeah, man!” The guys slaps him on the back, shaking him in a friendly way by the shoulder. “That’s freaking rad, dude. What do you charge? Like ten percent of sale? Fifteen?”

“What, you mean to buy booze?” College is honestly the weirdest place he’s ever been, it’s like a parallel freaking dimension for how much it makes sense on the regular. “I don’t charge friends, man.”

“What? Oh my god, bro,” Suzu gasps, hand tightening on his shoulder. “This is like a paradigm shift, man.” He shakes his head. “If only I had known! I could have gotten a twelve pack.”

They’ve broken into the Coronas when Suzu asks, “So like, ifShirayuki, Garrack Gazalt, and Yuzuri all proposed to you, who would you marry?”

“What like, all of them at once?” Everything’s a little blurry around the edges; the moon looks like one of those fuzzy pictures on instagram, like with the lights, the Christmas shit –

Bokeh. Yeah, bokeh. Everything’s all bokeh, or whatever.

“Sure, whatever, man.” He runs a hand through his hair, now all matted with sand from when they ran into the ocean two beers ago. “Wait, does that make sense?”

“Is this supposed to be like fuck, marry, kill or something?” Obi asks, though he’s really just buying himself time, trying to wait long enough that he doesn’t just blurt out how much he wants to marry Doc, how much he wants to press her into his mattress and fuck her until she can’t see straight, until she walks with a fucking limp because of how many times he’s made her –

“Yeah, like that, but I mean,” Suzu’s face scrunches up with distaste, “I dunno killing someone seems harsh, you know? How about like…wed, bed, behead?”

“Dude,” he laughs, shaking his head, “you know that beheading kills people right?”

“I dunno, didn’t Robespierre say it was more humane?”

“That’s specifically the guillotine. And I feel like zero people should take life advice re: murder from Robespierre, dude.”

“I feel like we’re getting side tracked from the original question, though,” Suzu says a half hour and another two Coronas later. “Garrack Gazalt, Yuzuri, or Shirayuki?”

Shirayuki. Always.

“For what?” he asks. “We’re calling it what? Wedding, bedding, and wishing a very nice night?”

“I guess…wedding?” Suzu shrugs and nearly falls over. “I mean, isn’t that the same as bedding? Like wouldn’t you be like, I dunno, fucking your wife? Or does that not count because you’re more like, making love –”

“Suzu. Focus.” Obi tries to snap his fingers, but he can’t seem to make them touch. “What about you, who would you pick?”

“Oh, dude, Shirayuki, totally.”

Obi tenses. Right. Okay. Friendship fucking cancelled.

“Oh,” he says, so light, so casual. “I didn’t realize you liked her.”

“Oh, I don’t,” Suzu replies easily, flopping down like a starfish in the sand. “I’m super fucking into Yuzuri, honestly. But Shirayuki seems like she’d be a good wife you know?”

He wants to punch him for giving him a literal heart attack, but then Suzu adds, so soft, “She seems really nice. Like she’d take care of you. I bet she’d be a good mom.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, hardly able to lift his voice above a whisper. “Yeah, she really fucking would be.”

“Oh, bro,” Suzu shouts, whacking his shoulder. They’ve moved onto the waters, trying to sober up before dawn. He’s not sure how long away that is, but it’s probably going to take most of the waters in the cooler to recover, so –

“Yeah?” he groans, rolling onto his belly. “Why are you hitting me, dude?”

“Over there, do you see them?” Suzu points, waving his arm unhelpfully. “It’s the baby turtles, man!”

He almost snaps that it’s not like he can see where he’s pointing if he flails about like that, but then – then –

He sees them, slowly flip-flapping down the sand, the moon full and bright on the ocean and –

And they don’t need them, not tonight; every one has this clear journey down the slope, tumbling with a brave sort of glee down to their ocean home.

“They orient by the moon,” Suzu tells him, voice hushed in wonder, “so like, the brighter it is, the more it reflects, the easier it is for them.” Even lower he croons, “Come on little buddies, you can do it! Get home, turtle friends!”

“That’s amazing,” Obi finds himself saying. “That’s fucking amazing.”

“I know right?” Suzu claps him on the back. “That’s why we do this right? Miracle of life. Making sure little turtle babies keep hatching, keep making this planet one cool rock to live on.”

Obi squints up at him, taking in the kid’s grin, and he finds himself saying, “I really like you, dude.”

Suzu whips his head around, and Obi’s ready for – for, that’s gay, dude; or maybe, what, are you some kind of –

“Oh, bro, same. You are fucking rad, man.” He grins, goofy and full. “I feel like I gotta tell you I mean that in a totes platonic way, man. Like if I was into dudes I would one hundred percent be into you, you are like a totally hot guy, but boobs are where it’s at for me. Lady thighs. So top shelf.”

Obi laughs. “Same. I mean – lady thighs are fucking great. That part. Not the not into dudes part. I’m, er…”

It strikes him he’s never actually done this. The whole talking about it thing. It’s not like guys at the gym were going to be thrilled about it, and it just never came up at Clarines. But six hours on a blanket with this idiot and he’s just…spilling out his guts.

“You like both, I get it.” Suzu eyes go wide, and he grips Obi’s shoulder hard. “Dude, is the Danny Ocean series like the best ever thing for you? Like in the second one you got George Clooney and Catherine Zeta Jones, and Brad Pitt –”

He buries his head in his hands, laughing. It’s not that funny, but – but –

God, he’s just…relieved. “Yeah, it’s – it’s pretty great, I won’t lie.”

“Man,” Suzu groans, “I’m so jealous. I always feel like I’m missing out on like half those movies, you know?”

“I can imagine.” He watches as another turtle tumbles into the surf. “I can’t wait to show Doc this.”

“Oh,” Suzu sighs, pulling the sound long. “So that’s it.”

He looks up, confused. “That’s what?”

“I was just thinking how this is like, a totally romantic thing right? Moonlight, watching the amazing miracle of nature right before us, the night is perfect.” Suzu sends him a sidelong glance. “I was just thinking about how awesome it would be if I did this with Yuzuri…and then you mention how you want to so Shirayuki, so, via transitive property…”

He should be afraid, he should be seizing up, but instead he just says, “Yeah, I…I like her a lot.” He swallows. “But she’s into my friend so…”

“That’s rough, buddy.” Suzu pats his back. “For what it’s worth, I think you two would make really cute babies together.”

Obi laughs into the sand before rolling up to his knees. “Okay, I think you need another water, man.”

#anonymous #the wide florida bay #The Wide Florida Bay #100 days of obiyuki (and more) #my fic #ans #modern au #writing drunk obi and suzu was so much fun #i probably could have done like 5k more of this but i had to stop myself #i gotta write other stuff too #this takes place during their first visit to lyrias #over spring break the first year they meet #the next year they 'study abroad' there #but this is pretty much the first time obi and suzu have hung out #though he's currently living with the rest of the lyrias crew in a suite situation #they haven't really talked

[citizenscreen]

Special guest post by Jeff Lundenberger @jlundenberger

My Feud with Feud

When the ads for Feud: Bette and Joan began to appear I considered watching it, thinking it was a made for TV movie — this despite the fact that the image of Jessica Lange and Susan Sarandon posed as Joan Crawford and Bette Davis in a promotional photo for Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?, made me think of two children playing dress up. When I discovered it was a series I decided that I definitely would not tune in. I’m a commitment-phobe when it comes to television series. I try to limit my TV viewing time and the thought of having to set aside one hour each week for the length of a series season makes me terribly anxious. It’s much more comforting for me to turn on TCM. Ninety-nine per cent of the time it will be something I’ll watch. And if it’s not, I have a DVR crowded with TCM movies going back several years. (As for my difficulty making a selection from that group, well, that’s another story.)

I was also put off by the fact that the series was created by Ryan Murphy, of American Horror Story fame, a show that I didn’t find appealing. I tried a few episodes of the first season at the urging of my sister but the violence, something my younger self would have relished, had me averting my eyes and squirming in my seat. I turned on an episode from a different season a few years later to see if anything, including my taste, had changed. The subject was a freak show and I couldn’t even watch the entire hour. The production seemed oddly lackluster, the story pretentious.

My husband started watching Feud from the beginning and he loved it. I read an intriguing interview with Lange in which she talked about the attempt by those concerned with the production to humanize the characters, placing their struggles firmly in the male-dominant, ageist Hollywood of the time. Finally, I received a text from a Joan and Bette-loving friend asking me if I was watching what he described as a weekly Christmas gift. All resistance crushed, I watched episodes 1, 2 and 3 in one sitting.

I’ve been a fan of Jessica Lange and Susan Sarandon since they first appeared on the scene in the 1970s but, lets face it, Joan Crawford and Bette Davis have some pretty big shoes to fill, especially if the viewer was, like myself, a fan of those two actors well before the arrival of King Kong and The Rocky Horror Picture Show. When we met, my first long-term boyfriend told me that I reminded him of Hank Fonda. Hank Fonda, Bill Holden, he threw the names of stars around as if they had been high school classmates. Ridiculous as it seems, we feel like we know them all intimately. How many times have I watched Mildred Pierce and All About Eve, The Women and Now, Voyager? Mildred and Margo and Crystal and Charlotte are only characters in movies, but my familiarity with them and my knowledge of their creators — from books, magazines, talk shows, and, yes, their films — grants me, in my mind, at least, some insight into the personal worlds of Crawford and Davis. Could Lange and Sarandon possibly live up to my perceptions and expectations?

The show’s 8 episodes have finished and I’m still on the fence. I thought the last episode the best and I’ll go into that more, but as for the show in general: Lange and Sarandon are fine as Joan and Bette. Lange’s voice is a bit soft for my idea of Joan but she never wavers from that peculiar, precise diction of Crawford’s, while Sarandon captures Davis’ clipped delivery and abrupt mannerisms. But I also have, to a lesser extent, a viewer’s intimacy with both Lange and Sarandon and I watch and listen carefully — where do those two end, Joan and Bette begin?  Do these interpretations at all match up with the interpretations I have in my head? Lange or Sarandon utter a line and I immediately run it through my filter: does this sound like my Bette or Joan?

One scene with Davis and ex-husband Gary Merrill (Mark Valley) struck me as feeling painfully realistic. Merrill angers Davis and they begin braying at each other when, suddenly, both burst out laughing at the battle that has obviously been a constant in their lives together, perhaps the basis of their relationship. Crawford’s dressing room attempt to convince Anne Bancroft (Serinda Swan) to allow Crawford to accept Bancroft’s Oscars were she to win — flattering, cajoling, insinuating — seemed utterly realistic. But there were also moments that left me cold. Nothing specific, just a vague mistrust, as if the creators were more interested in effect than intent.

The performances of Alfred Molina as Robert Aldrich, Stanley Tucci as Jack Warner and Dominic Burgess as Victor Buono are convincing but, of course, I’m not nearly as familiar with those men. I sense a bit of Joan Blondell in the performance of Kathy Bates, but Olivia de Havilland is nowhere to be found under the blonde wig of Catherine Zeta-Jones. Jackie Hoffman’s Mamacita and Judy Davis’ Hedda Hopper are more caricature than character. Grim and stoic, Mamacita has no subtlety. She might have been an escapee from Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS. And while I’m an admirer of Judy Davis, she doesn’t seem to be able to pull a person out of the sartorial flamboyance that defines the gossip columnist. Then again, if Hopper’s actions in the series are at all to be believed, perhaps she wasn’t human at all.

Other “real” characters pass in and out of the story – Gregory Peck, Geraldine Page, Rip Torn, Patty Duke, George Cukor, to name but a few — some more effective than others. John Waters appears as producer/director William Castle, turning that scene into utter camp while humiliating poor Joan in the process. Crawford’s twin daughters show up several times, as the teenage version of the murdered sisters of the Overlook Hotel.

But does it all work? Perhaps it’s my unfamiliarity with modern TV series but I find an hour each week to be too long. Dense with self-conscious detail, I’m worn out by the end of each episode, wanting to know what will happen next while at the same time relieved that I no longer have to notice that it is Aqua Net hairspray and Dickinson’s witch hazel being used by the stars. It’s Joan and Bette, the graphic novel, elaborate and over-blown, the costumes too costume-y, the sets too perfect, the attitude too proud of its own cleverness. But it is also fun. Sarandon as Davis performing a silly Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? song on the Mike Douglas show seemed just too good to be true — until the original video was trending on social media the following day.

And then came that final episode, which came closest to finding a kernel of authenticity and some kind of longed-for, idealized truth. We saw Joan at home, alone, cooking, drinking, cancelling a lunch date because she is unable to zip up her dress. Bette at home with Victor Buono, who questions the reasoning behind her continued attempts at landing a television series. Joan with her dentist who recommends a denture that she refuses. Bette’s doctor urges her to give up smoking, with the same result. Joan endures humiliation after humiliation while shooting her final film, Trog. Bette maintains a game face during the Dean Martin Roast. The subject of Christina’s book comes up in a conversation with Joan and her other daughter, Cathy, who tenderly comforts her. Bette spends time with her brain-damaged daughter Margot after being berated and dismissed by her other daughter B.D. The two have much in common at this stage in their lives, both touched by longing, sadness and the realities of old age.

But there’s more to it than that. In a Lynchian dream sequence Joan wakes up in the middle of the night and hears voices coming from her living room, where she finds Hedda Hopper and Jack Warner drinking, laughing and playing cards. She takes a place at the table with them, now in full makeup and dress. With biting humor they recall the past, struggle, triumph and pain. Bette arrives and takes her place at the table opposite Joan who is, at first, insulted by Bette’s presence. But it is Bette who asks Hopper and Warner to apologize to Joan for the miseries they have caused her. They consent but both, finally, are incapable of saying “I’m sorry.”

Hopper and Warner depart while Bette talks Joan into playing a game of Wishes and Regrets, “The only game I know” says Davis. Joan pulls a pip card and says, with sincerity, “I’m sorry I wasn’t more generous with you.” Bette pulls a face card and responds “I wish I’d been a friend to you.” Mamacita wakes Joan from her trance and returns her to bed. Touching and wistful, Joan’s dream, but could that have been her real attitude towards Bette after all the hostility they had shown one another?

Bette’s real response certainly might have been different. Later in the episode she answers a telephone call and is informed of Crawford’s death. Asked for a comment she replies “My mother always said don’t say anything bad about the dead. Joan Crawford is dead. Good.” But there is ambiguity in her face. Is she saying this because she feels it, or is she saying it because that is what she thinks she would be expected to say? The series ends at the beginning, the two stars in their studio chairs at the start of production of Baby Jane, hoping to become friends. Wishful thinking? Who knows.

Faye Dunaway is mentioned ironically in the final episode, and it’s all but impossible to talk about Joan Crawford, post-Mommie Dearest, without bringing up Dunaway’s portrayal of her. Has there ever been another movie with a more determined and driven star surrounded by such mediocrity? Dunaway’s Crawford is riveting but the other actors are unable to rise above the dull cinematography, the bad editing or the banal script. I watched the film recently and was struck by the overblown grandeur of the performance, but also its touches of subtlety and, dare I say, reality? This is, after all, not the Crawford of Feud but the Crawford of Christina, an angry, troubled, driven women seen through the eyes of her child. For better or worse, Dunaway’s performance, crafted from a rib tugged from Crawford’s own work in Johnny Guitar, defined the woman in a way that has stuck since the film’s release in 1981. It will be interesting to see if Lange’s Crawford, or Sarandon’s Davis for that matter, has the power to maintain such longevity.

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About the author: Jeff Lundenberger is an avid classic film fan, was a TCMFF Social Producer and is active across social media sharing his love of movies. You can follow Jeff on Twitter and Instagram @jlundenberger. I was thrilled when he agreed to share his thoughts on Feud on this blog and cannot wait to share my own thoughts in the comments below. I hope you’ll do the same.

  My Feud with FEUD Special guest post by Jeff Lundenberger @jlundenberger My Feud with Feud When the ads for Feud: Bette and Joan…

#Bette Davis #Feud #Jessica Lange #Joan Crawford #Susan Sarandon

[thatsnotperiod-blog]

HOT DOG after what seems like and may actually be years of waiting I am watching Wolf Hall for free. 

It starts with the Good Stuff, which is to say 1529 when Henry VIII had succumbed to full-fledged Annulment Madness. Some intro text tells us this, and that Henry is sure all delays are Cardinal Wolsey’s fault. 

AND NOW THIS. Early in the morning, six riders are clomping up to York Place in London. Inside, a man I presume is Cromwell is watching the sunrise and lighting lamps. Jonathan Pryce in the role of Cardinal Wolsey prepares himself for a confrontation.

“Wolsey, you’re out!” is the first line uttered on this show. It’s not... as much of a humdinger as maybe they wanted. The guy uttering it is one of Lord Norfolk or Lord Suffolk, and considering that the latter of these two men was played by literally Henry Cavill on The Tudors, these two are disappointing. The point of the scene is that Norf and Suff are eager to bring down their enemy, and Wolsey is gracious, canny, and supported by the clever, loyal Thomas Cromwell. Meanwhile, Suffolk literally is breathing with his mouth open. 

But still the next morning the Yeomen of the Guard (kidding) are there packing up Wolsey’s shit so Mouth-Breathing: 1 Wolsey: 0. They punt off in a ... punt, I guess, and Wolsey is sticking up for King Henry graciously, while his men gripe about how it’s unfair. “Do you think it’s something about the English? They cannot see a great man set up but they have to pull him down?” Well Hilary Mantel certainly thinks so. 

EIGHT YEARS EARLIER. 

Anne Boleyn at a masked ball at the royal palace or whatever, where everybody is dressed as a virtue. This scene feels like a big fuck-you to The Tudors version of the exact same thing, all the women have their hair in bags, nobody’s shoulders are sticking out, there’s no grommets on anybody and the men are appropriately in tights and shoes. Joke’s on this show though, because no matter how smug they are about this costuming the end result is that this scene is full of people dressed like dopes. Also, Anne is dancing with Harry Percy and not Henry VIII. 

Wolsey is chewing out Anne’s dad for this dancing impropriety. He has a solution though: marry her off asap before anyone gossips. Ho hum, life in the past.

Speaking of life in the past, the same people who get worked up about grommets and snoods tend to get extremely worked up about lighting in period television, specifically, there is too much of it. With no ambient light and only so much physical space to put candles in, after the sun set people spent much of their time in extremely dark rooms. This show is really rubbing it in by showing us that Wolsey has only lit about half of the candles at his disposal, presumably because this is a business casual, semi-private meeting with a concerned father about how many boys his daughter hath given smooch to. The result is that the scene is dark though and I have to crank up the light on my laptop.

Cromwell is in the hallway and Thomas Boleyn tosses some Tudor insults (”butcher’s dog!”) at him on the way out, and Wolsey summons Cromwell in. There’s some obvious contrast with how in-charge and intimidating he looks behind his desk, compared to how nervous and flustered and pathetic he looked in the first scene and like, I get it, ok, point made. Wolsey is charmed by Cromwell as a fellow lowly origins success story, Cromwell is clearly looking at Wolsey and thinking that he wants what this guy has. “William Popely tells me I might find a use for you,” says Wolsey. “A man of many talents.” It’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship. 

Cromwell arrives home. Like everything else at night, it’s dark as h e l l. His wife hands him a dog that I can’t even squint out in the goddamned candlelight, and they share a sweet moment where Cromwell says he’s hitching his wagon to Wolsey’s. She’s a little skeptical of his obvious excitement, he’s understanding and keeps scritching at the lil dog. They like each other. Cute!

Morning. Cromwell reads a letter from his son and helps his daughters with their breakfast homework (or whatever). He gets a package in the mail. It’s a Contraband English Bible for Sneaky Protestants, Illegal Edition. He gives it a soft sell to his wife, who blows him off, so he opens a regular ol Latin Bible for his youngest daughter, Grace. She traces the illuminations of angels and peacocks, an action that given the Tudor importance of symbology is in no way foreboding.

Cromwell kisses everybody within reach and runs off for his first day of work. Everybody on the way in has shit to say about his Humble Origins. Crom shows Wolsey a card trick. Wolsey explains that he just heard some Divorce Murmuring from King Henry. 

Wolsey remembers when Queen Catherine came over from Spain to marry Henry’s dead brother Arthur. The dialogue (just like in The Tudors) interacts interestingly with the ~source material. Like here Wolsey remembers how “[Catherine’s] red hair slid over her shoulder” when he first saw her. In the real world, a herald recording Catherine’s arrival in London described “her hair hanging down about her shoulders, which is fair auburn,” like it’s not a direct quote but it’s funny to think of everybody in Tudor times sitting there thinking the same thing: shit her hair’s down.  

They talk a little bit about how Catherine is taking the whole annulment thing (not well, and specifically she’s mad at Wolsey). Wolsey jokes that maybe the two of them will have to do card tricks for cash very soon. 

Throughout pretty much every one of his scenes, Cromwell is dropping little references to all the badass/regular crazy stuff he did in his Mysterious Wastrel Past and like, I can hear Hilary Mantel breathing heavily from here. Cromwell is an interesting person, but the way he can’t shut up in this show about the wild & crazy shit he got up to, especially in Italy, is like 2 much. "Once, in Italy, I held a snake for a bet,” he says, and everyone is like WHOA WHOA WHOA YOU ARE STONE COLD CRAZY TELL ANOTHER ONE. What does “held a snake” mean?

Back to 1529. Wolsey & Co are clattering up to Wolsey’s place of exile. Cromwell is shouting at everyone to get their asses in gear making the place hospitable for Wolsey, who looks pretty shitty. Everyone is sluggish and tired and it’s raining and dark, like the whole scene is just maximum depressing. 

Later, Cromwell helps Wolsey into bed. They joke like old friends, but are both clearly freaked out. “This is what they’ve waited for,” says Wolsey. “You should leave me. Gardiner has.” Cromwell takes his hand and is like, “Gardiner would.” Haha fuck that guy.  

Jonathan Pryce’s sad, tearful eyes look up at him. Cromwell grabs a lute player or someone on his way out and asks him to go play for Wolsey: “it might help him rest.” Lute Guy’s name is Mark, so I assume he’s Mark Smeaton. In this show, he’s a dick, because the next morning Cromwell walks in on him predicting Wolsey’s downfall and death, and claiming that he’s getting sent to “the Lady Anne” so 100% confirmed for Smeaton.

Next scene, Cromwell at a dinner party with Antonio Bonvisi, a merchant and frequent More correspondent. The scene is like literally pitch black. I can’t see shit. The whole room gets quiet when Cromwell arrives, and he zeroes in on Sir Thomas More, telling him to continue with whatever smack he was talking about Wolsey. Bonvisi is like, a little annoyed with everyone trying to start shit, and introduces the new Spanish ambassador, Eustace Chapuys. Chapuys leans over to More and starts bad-mouthing Cromwell, but Cromwell makes it awkward by calling him out. More says Wolsey is greedy. Cromwell says More is greedy and also a hypocrite. Bonvisi is like “.......how is everybody’s herring.”

On the way out, Bonvisi dishes out some friendly advice about Wolsey: “Leave him now.” 

Cut to the past, but less, “eighteen months before Wolsey’s fall,” the Holy Roman Empire is rampaging everywhere and has taken the pope prisoner. 

Wolsey is pumped because he has a plan: while the pope is not home he’ll convene all the cardinals in France and, in the course of being the interim government of the Catholic Church, slap a quick annulment on Henry. They talk a little bit about Anne Boleyn. Wolsey glibly Underestimates Her. His downfall has begun!

Home. Crom’s wife urges him to visit his father. His youngest daughter wanders in, wearing angel wings made out of peacock feathers. Just like the pictures she was looking at in that bible a bunch of scenes ago! The peacock, of course, is a common symbol of immortality but I’m sure this is not foreboding. Bedtime. Grace knocks on the door, claiming that she’s too warm. She’s still wearing her peacock angel wings. Crom sends her off, watching her wander down the hallway in her angel wings, you know, normal non-foreboding stuff. 

A scary part: Cromwell is off to work, chatting with his wife who’s still in bed. He takes off down the stairs, and then catches a glimpse of her on the landing. He turns around to tell her to go back to bed, but she’s.... not there. He looks everywhere, freaked out. It’s worth noting that he gallumphed and creaked down his old-ass stairs, and she didn’t make a sound.

He heads off anyway, to a quick Secret Protestant meeting where he warns everybody about Thomas More.

Then he heads home. It’s still light. His servants meet him at the door; his wife is dead. Cromwell sits tearfully on her bed. Someone rushes in to tell them that his daughters are dying too, and then they kind of...do. After that it’s still just the middle of the day so Cromwell is stuck looking at his garden. 

New day. Wolsey’s plan for a conclave didn’t work. Wolsey has a new plan: a papal envoy authorized to rule in the pope’s staid. His confidence in the plan seems a little manic; Cromwell is clearly bummed out that his whole family died.

He wanders over to a blacksmith, and has a flashback to his own childhood of having the bejeezus kicked out of him by his father (a blacksmith). And oh shit, it IS his father! He’s still a blacksmith and still mean. Like a real dick. Cromwell had been holding a hammer when he walked up; he puts it down. Cute horse, though. 

Next day he formally adopts his nephew. Apparently he has some other son wandering around somewhere but I assume we’ll get to him later. So, recap of remaining live Cromwells: Cromwell, Richard Cromwell (former nephew), Gregory Cromwell (off-screen), Unnamed Father Cromwell, Unnamed Sister Cromwell. 

And now for the legatine court! Queen Catherine testifies, and since it’s like, a matter of historical record every Queen Catherine in all of television (as well as the Shakespeare play) says the same words, “I was a true maid, without touch of man, and whether this is true or no, I put to your conscience.” 

King Henry blinks. Then they do the rest of the stuff, some crusty old guy tells the “last night I was in Spain” story, the crowd is weird, Cromwell looks grossed out. In the hallway, the Iron Bank of Braavos guy delivers news that the Pope has signed a treaty with the Holy Roman Empire so Wolsey is complete toast.

1529 again. Wolsey totters around in his garden looking pathetic. Cromwell off to visit Anne Boleyn. Mark Smeaton is there, and he’s still a dick. He’s not even playing his lute, just standing around like a dud. 

Anne is yelling at a curly little pup who runs to greet Cromwell. He scoops it up. She tries to snob him and he just stares back. She calls him “Cremuel” for like, reasons of her own. He argues that Wolsey is the only person who can get Henry an annulment. She thinks about it and decides she still hates Wolsey. Her sister, Mary, catches Cromwell on the way out and they talk a little good-natured shit about Anne. In fact all of her ladies are giving him sympathetic looks. He determines that things are grim for Wolsey, and that he needs to do more to speak up for him. 

He goes to talk with Norfolk, who tells him his chances of getting back in Parliament are not great, and talks more about Cromwell’s Humble Origins like, we get it. They have one of those weird, friendly conversations about how they don’t like each other that only men over the age of 40 in period television can have. It’s like they’re too genre-savvy to cooperate, the scoundrels!

Audience with Henry time! Henry’s still mad that Crom voted against war with France, and wants to yell about that. So he does! They talk a little bit about war with France and under what circumstances it could be a little cheaper. Then Henry’s like, “Master Cromwell, your reputation is bad,” and Cromwell is like shruggo. Henry asks why he won’t defend himself, and Cromwell’s like, “your majesty can form your own opinions” which is just exactly what Henry likes to hear. “I will,” he says. 

Cromwell comes back to Wolsey’s old apartment or whatever at court and has the painting guys paint in his coat of arms brighter. The end! Damn??

[thepurplebutterfly-blog]

Unknown number

Sun’s already up but I’m still in my pajamas. I usually spend my Monday mornings on my bed. Trying to extend my sleeping hours as much as possible. But as for this day, I have to get up early and prepare.

My friends had scheduled a group study for our Midterm requirement that will be presented at the very next day. Need I tell you that I hate group studies? I personally prefer to work alone, since I tend to be more productive without distractions. (Sorry, squad. Love you.)

But this isn’t a typical group study because of a certain person. Whoo-hoo. Yes, you’re probably thinking the right thing. It’s because of the guy that I’ve been crushing on lately. (Oops!) Let’s just call him Mark, alright? That’s not his real name, not even close. Haha.

Mark and I used to talk during most of our lectures. I don’t really fancy attending these classes since it bores the heck out of me. Mark’s seat is right next to me. Somewhere at the back portion of the room. I sat there because it’s the best place to sleep. I just don’t know why he chose sitting next to me. Maybe he likes to sleep too? That I don’t know.

He’s a nice guy. Good looking. Definitely taller than me. And has an amazing personality. In short, he’s my kind of man. I have literally been screaming in my head everytime he greets me goodmorning before the class starts. Always.

One time, I remember, he skipped the first class. And I was like, Okay. He’s not here. Where could he probably be? And then, he came rushing before the second class starts. He woke up late that’s why he missed one boring lecture. Haha.

Back to what I was saying earlier, we have a group study and he happens to be part of those who I am meeting up. We never had the chance to go out together so I thought it would be nice if we could hang out now.

I tried my best to pretty myself up. Not really the kind who puts makeup or designs my hair. I slipped into a pair of jeans, a black shirt and my favorite blue and pink sneakers. My typical outfit. And I somehow managed to look pretty decent. I just want to keep it cool and simple. Something that is so me.

Because I was so into prettying myself, I didn’t noticed that I had consumed so much time fidgeting over useless things. I just have an hour left before the scheduled time. I had to run as fast as I can so I can make it to the bus. And so I did. I ran. And ran. And ran some more. I did make it to the bus but I regret running the moment I got in because I was starting to get a little bit sweaty.

As I was freshing up, my phone rang. It was from an unknown number. Normally, I wouldn’t take calls from unregistered numbers but I kinda’ have a feeling that it’s someone from the group. And so I answered.

The voice from the other line was of a boy. So I was thinking, who the heck is this and where did he got my number? He went like: “Hoy, Catherine!” I was surprised. He knew my name. But who’s this? I was so freaked out. So I hung up on him before he could even speak.

Seconds after, he called me again. I picked it up once more but this time, I speak first. “Hello? Sino ‘to?” (Hello? Who’s this?) He repeated the same words until it sink into me. “Mark! Mark! It’s Mark. Don’t hung up!” And I heard him laughing on the other line.

I felt like shrinking as I listened to him speak. What is wrong with me? Why the fudge did I hung up earlier? I immediately apologized and said my best excuse. “Your number isn’t registered in my phone so I thought of hanging up. Sorry!” lol

And we talked for a few seconds before he passed it to my friend. She gave me directions on how could I get to the place and to tell me who’s gonna’ pick me up at the train station.

After quite some time, I arrived at the place. It was pretty huge. Air-conditioned. Pretty much like our house in my hometown. When we got in, I saw them already writing something on their papers. It seemed like they already had developed possible arguments. I’m screwed.

And then, he came to me. “Did I scare you that much that you had to hung up on me?” Stop him. He was smiling and was close to letting out a soft chuckle. I shake my head and said: “Not at all. I was just a bit flustered.” Stupid. Why did I say that? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Sorry.” This time, all of them laughed. “Natakot sa boses ni Mark”, one of them said. (You got scared with Mark’s voice). “Hindi ‘kaya”, I replied. (Not really.) And laugh with the rest of them.

Thanks for the pizza. It surely got us motivated to write. Lol. Especially me. Since he kept saying I should eat more since I was late, which I am really guilty about. I would like to have another one but one slice was already hard for me to finish due to my braces.

As soon as we were all finished, we decided to prepare to leave. He offered a ride home but unfortunately, I wasn’t able to come along because they started getting in his car. So I just decided to take the train with my friend. We bid each other goodbyes as we parted ways.