#it seems to fit a pattern

[berlinini]

Is AFHF a one of a kind, stand-alone, annual event that Louis happens to be headlining (for now) or is it a fancy, extra special Louis tour show?

Because on one hand you had the festival account posting stories all day up until the headliner took stage.

On the other hand you have Louis making a special IG post that only features pictures of his performance.

I get wanting to separate his performance/ his involvement as an artist in the festival and not as an organizer, but the festival doesn’t stand on its own without him so it makes no sense. Why are they ignoring him on the official accounts.

I am genuinely puzzled. I’m of course not surprised by the legendary inability of his team to do something well but I’m curious about Louis’ angle here.

[arttsuka]

Now that I think about it, that one 'Toothless lost his patterns because they were his baby features' argument is just stupid and wrong. Their kids (these ugly ahh dragons made to resemble kittens/puppies) don't have any patterns either (not clearly shown in the picture because I couldn't find a clear one with all of them).

By that logic the kids should definitely have patterns because 1: the father had them (movie 1 and 2 but less prominent) and 2: the mother still does. They're still babies so if the patterns were indeed a 'baby' feature they should have them as well, especially now that they're young.

My point is, removing the patterns from Toothless was a 'stylistic' decision despite whatever people think. Or, if it were intentional, they completely forgot about the whole thing (in the same movie they removed them, which makes zero sense)

Also their heads are different from httyd 1 Toothless too, which again shows that they just wanted to change the structure of the model.

[vaguely-concerned]

kremy 'assigned elderly citizen by the witchlight carnival' lecroux

[sysig]

Dr. “Has to get a good grade in therapy” Doran (Patreon)

[rrat-king]

i ever yearn for the day i dont have to alter my clothes to get them to lay right on me. but alas. back to the sewing machine.

[hersweetrevenge]

Hi there! <3 I re-watched Halloween Ends yesterday because I was upset and I needed Corey to save me, lmfao, and I wanted to ask you something that I've been wondering about. So, I have no way of getting the novelisation of the movie anytime soon, and you're kinda my only frame of reference for it; so I hope you don't mind me asking you this. When Corey is on his revenge killing spree, he kills those bullies at the mechanic shop. And Ronald is there. And then Ronald comes out to help the kids because of Terry. And only because of that. So, that makes me wonder... Did Corey plan on killing Ronald after he was done with the kids? Is that something that was elaborated on in the novel? Because I keep wondering about that, since Corey pretty much killed everyone that ever wronged him during that night, and Ronald was right there; but Corey didn't kill him (or didn't get the chance to, at least). Terry shot him by accident. But Corey killed his mom, of course. So, it'd make sense if he had at least planned on going after Ronald as well; even though he never actively wronged Corey (only passively, if we look at the way he just sat and watched while Joan abused Corey right in front of him, for example). But more so for completion's sake, y'know? They were on generally good terms, after all. I mean, in your latest post about the novel, you quoted that Ronald is "the loveliest thing" in Corey's life, according to Rohan. So, that makes me wonder all the more. OH, and... I fought with myself to include this point, but anyway- Corey takes the mask off when Ronald comes to help the kids, so that Ronald can see his face and know it's him. And it clearly disarms Ronald immediately and is the reason why Terry accidentally shot him instead of Corey, because he shielded him instinctively. Thus, I keep wondering if Corey meant for that to happen or if he took the mask off in order to assure Ronald that he wasn't actually in danger... It's such a seemingly insignificant thing that I'm thinking about far too much, but it's been bothering me that I don't know, and I was curious if the novel said anything about that at all, or if they just brushed over it there, as well. If they did, I'll just make up my own mind, of course, hdsfdjkfsk Anyway, I'm very sorry for rambling on about this, gosh! I love your blog(s) and everything you have to say about Corey and Rohan, you're awesome!!! Thank you for your detailed posts all the time, they keep me going! Take care! <3

ahhh hi !! thank you so much for sending this ask !! i love talking about this sort of thing more than anything lol and i’m sorry this took a little longer than i expected to reply, i was double checking like every ronald scene in the novel and cross-referencing that with behind-the-scenes details from making of, and re-watching the movie (i didn’t have to do that last one but like you, i needed emotional support from corey too 💗)

WARNING for discussions about (canon-typical) violence, murder, child abuse, abusive households, mentions of suicide and self-harm, and spoilers for the novelisation.

TL;DR – the novelisation does not elaborate on corey's intentions in any huge amount of detail, but it does provide some insight into a few different possibilities for ronald and corey’s relationship and what that would mean for corey's intentions.

general relationship

the novelisation actually gives some really specific details about the cunningham-prevo backstory, but also leaves a lot of aspects vague too.

joan married ronald when corey was 15, and she made it clear to ronald that he would "remain firmly on the sidelines when it came to corey's upbringing" which ronald "gladly" agreed to. so from the very beginning, ronald accepts he isn't going to be an active parent to corey, which maybe means he didn't believe he would do a good job anyway, or maybe he agreed it wasn't his place to parent corey in the same way joan does.

also, corey was already a teenager, he didn't need parenting in the same way a younger child would, which is partly why i think joan waited until corey was older to get remarried, because although being a single parent is difficult, she wouldn't want someone else in the picture as a father-figure for corey.

i don't personally see corey and ronald having a super close relationship, but there are multiple instances that show they are at least comfortable and familiar with each other (in line with what rohan said).

corey had a job before working for ronald, so we know ronald didn't have to give him a job. i hc that corey really wanted to do something stimulating instead of call centre work, and ronald agreed despite joan's grievances over it.

ronald doesn't seem too angry at him for being late, even though it is a regular occurrence (third time in a month).would he be so lenient on anyone who wasn't his stepson?

the gifting of the motorbike is a huge moment of course. that's a big gesture which, in the novelisation, also comes with some stilted bonding when ronald reminiscences that he used to "get laid [...], if you can believe it".

they have their united front moment over dinner when joan is trying to work a reaction out of them and neither gives her what she wants.

a smaller but still significant gesture is that corey uses dumbbells and a pull-up bar in his room to workout, which ronald bought him for christmas. very much feels like an attempt to help corey rebuild his self-confidence.

honestly though, rohan's comment about ronald being the "loveliest" thing in corey's life is probably right, especially as corey's life has been incredibly insular. as the town pariah with an abusive mom, his stepdad being cool about him being late for work is probably one of the best parts of his day.

but then on the other hand, there are moments which do not characterise their relationship very well, including multiple instances of ronald "ignoring" joan's abusive behaviour and not intervening.

to reiterate a previous point: ronald very willingly obliges joan's wishes of not "interfering" with corey's upbringing. her unfounded criticism and distrust of doctors, the school system and anyone other than her taking care of corey should have been a huge red flag (if, of course, any of that behaviour could have been inferred prior to their marriage).

ronald's passivity at being side-lined by his wife, allowing her to continue an unhealthy and unbounded relationship with corey.

when joan is berating corey for "sneaking around" and seeing allyson (the slap/kiss scene), she questions ronald as to whether he knew about the motorcycle, to which ronald stays completely out of it and doesn't answer her, despite her being furious with corey.

however it is a really difficult family dynamic to navigate, with so much nuance. i'm reluctant to say if ronald is a "good" or "bad" stepdad, or whether their father-son relationship is "good" or "bad", simply because their circumstances are so trying and complex. yes, joan has abused corey for a long time, but that abuse also extends to ronald in many ways too, resulting in him allowing (or enabling) joan's abusive behaviour in a flawed attempt to maintain the (toxic) status quo of the household.

did corey intend to kill ronald?

like i mentioned, there isn't any elaboration about corey's intentions in the novel, either through narration or extra dialogue. the scene happens almost exactly as it does in the film, with a few alterations and added background details. it's the surrounding details and plot differences that change my opinion.

i think movie!corey would have killed ronald if he had to. he knew ronald would be at home or at the yard, both of which were places he intended to go (to kill momma and the bullies). i'm not sure he had the same desire to kill ronald as he does the others, especially if he sees ronald in a good light, but to tie up loose ends he might do what is "necessary". i do find it very interesting that he lets ronald see his face though, and i can't decide if that is as a reassurance (he wouldn't kill ronald and ronald should know that) or because it just didn't matter (he's going to kill ronald so even if he sees corey's face, he won't be a liability to worry about).

however, i don't think novel!corey intended to kill ronald. in the novel, despite all of the extensive set-up of joan being abusive and corey's repressed desires to hurt her (and arguably ronald), there's no suggestion that corey planned to go back home as part of his spree and kill joan. if he wasn't going to kill joan after everything she did, i really don't think he'd have plans to kill ronald.

that's not to say there aren't implication in the novel that corey would hurt ronald too. there's a scene after the slap/kiss where corey can hear joan and ronald arguing about him, and once they've gone to bed corey gets a knife and stands outside their room, but ultimately doesn't go in. it isn't specified whether he wants to hurts just joan, or ronald as well.

michael's mask

ahh so when i was re-reading the scrapyard massacre in the novel to try and answer whether corey letting ronald see that it is him was a way of corey saying "you don't have to be scared of me" or even "you should be scared of me", i've come to a different conclusion about the mask.

“Who did this to you?” [Ronald] asked. “Him,” Margo said, pointing across the street. Ronald turned to find Corey twenty feet away on the other side of the fence, pulling Michael’s mask over his head. "Corey?" he muttered in disbelief.

the way the novel reads, i think that when corey puts the mask on in front of ronald, it's the first time he puts the mask on at all. if that is the case, it adds a whole other level to the transition between corey's kills as himself (or as the scarecrow) and his kills "as michael".

earlier, billy's sees "corey's shape wearing his prevo jumpsuit". it's fair enough that billy would assume it's corey without seeing his face, because they know that corey is there, but there's no mention of the mask either.

then, the way it describes ronald seeing corey put on the mask doesn't really indicate that corey was making sure ronald saw it was him. he's already "pulling on the mask" by the time ronald looks over at him; he wasn't waiting for ronald to look he was already doing it.

alternatively, the movie shows corey very deliberately stood there, waiting for ronald to see him and recognise him before he puts the mask on. i'm leaning towards it not being a gesture of reassurance but more of a last show of humanity to someone corey cares about -- "it's me, and i appreciate that you always treated me well, but this is the monster they've made me into".

in both versions, ronald jumps up to stop terry shooting corey. whether he was intending to shield corey or was just getting up to try and talk terry down, i think it says a lot about ronald as a character. he has been very passive this whole time, especially in scenes that take place at home, but in this moment he takes an authorative position to try and diffuse the situation. there's a scared kid with a gun, and his own stepson who he's starting to think might have done something awful, but this doesn't have to continue -- they can talk about it and calm down and whatever it is that has happened can be worked out.

[brionysea]

here's another example of mike breaking the pattern by being the first one to do it

bonus foreshadowing:

[rum-inspector]

I thought I was a little bit silly never throwing away patterns I've made but I got an inspiration to make regency dress

AND I REMEMBERED someone commissioned one from me like 10 years ago and lo and behold they were the same size I AM NOW kakakskaksksksks I can just use the same pattern and thanks past me for being organized I found it!

[vilevexedvixen]

Fowler's Flower Pt. 3 - Crown of thorns

Abijah Fowler x servant!Reader

Summary: While the reader rests, her fellow English Roses stir in her absence. Their usual duties disrupted by Fowler's newborn vigor as of her arrival. Typically Mary serves as Fowler's go-to sacrificial lamb, but that morning Lizzy offered herself in her place when she sees Fowler about to torture the reader. Remembering exactly why she'd avoided Fowler's attention all this time...

TW: Sexual themes, breath-play, begging, and general religious fuckery.

Pt. 1 here

Pt. 2 here Dividers by @roseschoices

Lizzy couldn't sleep.

She often couldn't. A light sleeper at best, but this night even the twinkling of stars in the clear night sky felt like an agitating strobe taunting her from the heavens. The warm summer air feeling like a stale miasma that caught in her throat the deeper she breathed in a vain attempt to quell her nerves. It was almost funny, Mary's snoring was strangely calming by comparison. A reminder of her presence. Each breath of hers sounding slightly wheezy tonight, Fowler must have really done a number to her chest and back. An obvious observation, given she had just been tending to her wounds before bed. As with almost every night before.

Dabbing each cut and bruise with a rag soaked in what meager disinfectant she could make from the sake they shared with Fowler's prostitutes. Sparing some to drink as a makeshift painkiller, which Mary gladly indulged in between hisses as the disinfectant worked its magic. Her shaky hands causing some of the disinfectant to spill onto her clothes, which still stank faintly of it. Somehow, hearing Mary wheeze now stung more than seeing her stumble in as a battered wreck earlier. She could patch her up as best she can every time, but the damage will always last. Someday, she knew, would come a day her best efforts won't heal her.

Why must she always throw herself at his feet? Mary's but one person, no matter how hardy she reckons she is. Lord knows she can't work miracles, and there's only so many miracles she could pray for on Mary's behalf. She swears her prayers must have been heard on at least a few occasions. Rarely can she stomach a peak into the dungeon, even when it's not in use, but its proximity to the chapel makes some gruesome affairs hard to ignore. The depths of depravity and anguish she's seen Mary endure is nothing short of biblical. Sympathy aside, she knows were it not for Mary then she, Daisy and any other poor soul unlucky enough to spark Fowler's ire would have to endure that same torture. The last time that happened, well...

Her trembling hands fondled the rosary she hid beneath her garbs, less because of any explicit rule to keep it hidden and more a need to keep it close to her heart. As if on autopilot, she made her way to the chapel as she did most mornings. Almost as if the sun may not rise unless she prayed that the lord willed it to, even if she knew it must. Usually she'd make a detour to the kitchen first to gather up a little something for Mary to eat in case she was left in the dungeon overnight. It was a welcome change to not be sleeping alone for once, courtesy of Fowler getting his sadistic urges out of his system unusually early. One would wonder how a man like Fowler could even sleep at night, but his nocturnal tendencies seem to speak for themselves.

An unfortunate consequence of his near nightly habits is that Lizzy often guides herself to the chapel not by memerising the winding passageways that led there, but instead by the sounds emanating from the dungeon like clockwork. Finishing up just in time for the birdsong to begin, a jarring choir to cleanse her palate. Tonight her memory had to finally step-in, which actually led her to take a few wrong turns before finally reaching the chapel. Not even the birds had stirred yet, leaving nothing but the creaking floorboards to keep her company. And him, of course. Ever loving, ever looming.

As she knelt among the pews, gazing up at the carved carcass of Christ nailed above the alter with eyes half-closed, she could feel Mary's scathing nihilism get to her. Unsure if all her prayers were what kept her alive, or if their dismissal is what perpetuates her suffering, something she had no intention of testing. On which note, she began her morning mantra...

"Almighty God who seest that we have no power of ourselves to help ourselves; keep us both outwardly in our bodies, and inwardly in our souls; that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Her hands clasped tighter, as if the silence that followed her prayer proved the futility of her faith. On some level, she knew it, but it was the one thing that still granted her some semblance of dignity. Not her maintaining faith in the Lord or Church, but her continued role as a nun. Tending to Mary and other servants' wounds, cooking extra food from the kitchen for those in her care, praying on their behalf, mending their clothes, etc. Any task she could take on that resembled her old duties in the convent helped distract from the fact her new official role was as Fowler's.... "plaything". A role that she has thankfully gotten to neglect for some time, thanks to Mary, and which she fears _______ may not be fit for.

As if she spoke of the Devil - the heavy, daunting, unmistakable footsteps of Fowler arose from the end of the hall, alongside what sounded like a heavy sack being dragged across the floor. That can't be good...

Against her better judgement, she crept up to the chapel doorway to peak down the hall. Almost immediately, Fowler spotted her and greeted her with a knowingly vile smirk.

"Good morning, Sister Elizabeth!" he jeered.

She knew he played into her duties as a nun like it was some sort of amusingly pitiable delusion, but if that's what it took to keep his interest in her at bay then so be it. She frowned, "Yes, it has been a good morning thus far. May I ask what you've got there?" She knew very well what he had there, now that she had a closer look. The outline of her old servants garb in tatters and a limp head of messy hair, clearly _______ run ragged and unconscious.

"So you haven't met her yet?", Fowler's mocking tone irked her to no end, though she tried to hide it. Clearly in vain though, as his smirk deepened, satisfied with how easily he got under her skin. "Sorry to disturb your little chat with the lord, but the wine seems to have worked a bit too well on this one. Thank you so much for that little recipe of yours, it works wonders!"

Recipe? What recipe? Her mind scoured for what she could've possibly given him willingly. Then it dawned on her... the dwale? How could he have gotten the ingredients for that here?! She'd only managed to spare a handful of them she'd smuggled on her way here to use in emergencies, which he hasn't touched (to her knowledge), so how?... The distraught confusion he drew out of her with so few words tickled the base of his soul. Oh the guilt on her face was priceless!

'Oh _______, I'm so sorry!', she thought, distraught that her remedies were used for such selfish, evil indulgences, let alone by Fowler of all people! He can't of been dragging her to the chapel. What? Was he hoping to wake her with pain in the dungeon? ________'d barely been here a day! She can't just stand by and let him drag them there!

Fowler reveled in Lizzy's anguish, watching her twitch with grief and anger for just a moment before he continued towards the dungeon. Suddenly, Lizzy lept to hastily block his path, compelled as if her body were possessed to do so. She'd never been so brash in a long while, not since he crushed her hands to bits. He'd thought he'd broke her, but so glad he hadn't! This was going to be fun...

(NSFW scene; skip if you'd rather not partake.)

"Volunteering as tribute, Sister?", Fowler said, barely leaving a second before casting _______ aside like a rag-doll to grip Lizzy's neck and drag her back into the chapel. Despite the sinking dread she felt as he dragged her body to the alter, she didn't fight back. Not if it risked him turning his attention back to _______, still unconscious in the hallway.

"On your knees, Sister", he growled,yanking Lizzy down by the neck, buckling her onto her hands and knees coughing and gasping for breath. "Look at me!", he grabbed her chin harshly to force her to comply. Her little holy charade was cute, but it got old quick. The mix of fear and hatred looked absolutely beautiful on her. Admittedly, her purity was part of what was so fun about her, a cruel bit of false hope he perpetuated by keeping that little bit of her intact. Wielding the threat of its ruin like a collar and leash around her neck. Speaking of which...

Fowler traced the tips of his fingers over her collarbone where her rosary barely peaked out, coiling a finger around to deftly coax it from under her uniform. "Did you think this would save you?", his grip loosened to let the beads slip through his palm, grasping it once more upon reaching the apostle's creed. Pulling it taut to squeeze the sides of Lizzy's neck and forcing her forward, her face barely inches away from the knot of his robe's belt. Her chest heaved as each breath grew more laboured than the last. Head sagging heavy over her shoulder as a dull fog enclosed her aching skull. The beautiful sight of her fighting to maintain her balance not at all discouraging Fowler from quenching the remaining flow of blood to her brain with the rosary in the slightest. If anything, seeing her so quickly slump into a heady stupor compelled him to pull it tauter. Bereft of air, her body grew heavy as clay - begging for Fowler to breathe life back into it again.

And that he did.

With barely a moment's notice he let go, her body collapsing to the floor, too weak to even lift her head let alone kneel. She wasn't sure how long she lay there for, but between deep gasps for air she could faintly hear Fowler circling her. Watching her.

"You know..." Fowler trailed off, "when Heiji had said he'd found a lady of the cloth up for sale I found it such a beautiful irony." He leaned down to stroke her cheek, working his fingers behind her ear to enmesh in her hair. Unceremoniously he dug his claws into her scalp and yanked her up by the hair, forcing her awake with the ache of it. Her pleading scowl denoting that her full, furious attention was back at him. Perfect. He continued, "Seems not even England's own are safe from the Tudor lust for pillage and plunder. Willing to cannibalise itself for gold to toss at another enemy. Doubt the money he paid for you is enough to rebuild your old monastery - but what a fat sum for the abbot to run away with, eh?"

Lizzy rarely dwelled on how she got here. Why would she? One day she was tending to the monastery's garden and blessing weary travelers seeking sanctuary; the next her room was exposed to the elements. Books and beams charred to bits and nothing of the monastery's holy relics left but the sun-bleached shadows on the walls they once adorned. While some of her sisters stayed to help repair the ruined remains, most fled to the few monasteries yet untouched by Henry Tudor's warmongering greed. One by one though, with barely a hope of normalcy left to cling to, they each were sold into contract work. Lords who thought themselves above the Lord.

"Now, since you're practiced in the ways of worship-" he began untying the belt of his robe, which slid aside gracefully - a stark contrast to the vulgar bulge it revealed, "I have something in need of your... blessing". His hands weren't really necessary to uncover the thick cock barely contained by his breeches.

She froze, it had been so long since she last serviced him, it was almost a lost art. Not only that, but she'd had the mercy of a blindfold each time before, shielding her from the harsh reality in front of her - even if the unmistakably horrid taste of him lingered long thereafter. Noticing her hesitation, Fowler resumed that same old mercy, tying his robe's belt across her eyes into a makeshift blindfold as she's so accustomed. "Now, petal, you finally ready to do your fucking job?"

Fowler was done playing games, he needed release and she knew it. Taking one last deep breath, Lizzy wrapped her lips around his throbbing cock and began sucking with all the energy she could muster. As good as it felt, it would take so much more to pull even a whimper from Fowler, so she gradually picked up the pace. Hardly a minute into it, and her jaw was already aching. She couldn't really complain about being so out of practice, but damn did it hurt.

Not at all satisfied with her pathetic attempt at a blowjob, Fowler gripped a fistful of her hair and rammed his cock down her throat as deep as it would go. In and out, like a roaring tide during a storm. Each thrust made Lizzy gag, she could barely breathe! Within a minute of Fowler keeping his pace, Lizzy started to black out. As her eyes fluttered shut, she felt the sting of a slap to the face as Fowler pulled himself from her mouth, "Don't go falling asleep on the job, Sister, understand?".

Barely with it, she nodded. Unsatisfied, Fowler slapped her again - this time garnering a yelp from Lizzy, "I could end you with a single thrust to the back of your throat. Now, be a good girl and beg me not to... beg like your life depends on it!"

Her mind raced, faster than her mouth could keep up. Fumbling and stammering between pleads and whimpers. She begged, "Please My Lord, have mercy on me! I beg of you... please don't kill me!" Her hands grasping at his loose robe in a show of desperation, garnering nothing but an unimpressed tsk from Fowler, "I know you can do better than that Petal... I've seen you beg more fervently in here for a heartier supper than you're begging for me now!" He leant in to grab for her rosary yet again, this time swiftly pulling it off her neck with a snap. A couple beads spilling onto the floor before he wrapped the remaining chain around her wrists to bind them together in prayer.

Panicked, she pleaded, "No, NO! My Lord please, I meant no disrespect I swear! Forgive me. Every breath, I cherish it as if it were my last, were it not for your benevolent mercy. Please oh PLEASE, have mercy on me My Lord!" That at least drew a smile out of Fowler, if a faint one. Fearful her pleas were insufficient, she began to pray;

"O Lord, my God, Thou art to me whatsoever is good. Remember me because I am nothing, I have nothing, and I can do nothing. Thou alone art good, just, and holy; Thou canst do all things, Thou accomplishest all things, Thou fillest all things. Turn not Thy face away from me; withedraw not Thy consolation, lest my soul become as a thirsty land to Thee. Teach me, O Lord, to do Thy will; teach me to live worthily and humbly in Thy sight!"

By the last word her hands were visibly, profoundly shaking. To say she feared Fowler for the longest time would be an understatement, but in that moment her fear overshadowed all other thoughts. And Fowler could hear it...

"Good, Petal."

Her trembling sigh of relief echoed throughout the chapel. A pleasant calm... before the storm.

"Now, open wide for me-" still with his grip on her hair he easily pulled her head to attention, though hardly needed to as she now willingly parted her lips for him, "That's better, my dear ~"

With her eyes closed she fully lost herself in submission, loose and limp. Were it not for the slight pressure she could feel pulling at her scalp she'd swear her body was moving on its own and not puppeteered by Fowler. Back and forth, back and forth... Soon all sense of time melted away. Maybe her mind and body had shut down, exhausted with panic. Perhaps she had truly began to accept it, relaxing into her role... NO! Her body stiffened with resistance, causing her to gag and force Fowler's cock from the back of her throat. But by then she'd served his needs, cum spilling from her mouth and dripping all over her garments. She could barely believe the sight of herself, disheveled and desecrated.

She hadn't a second to process what happened before Fowler had cleaned himself up and re-tied his robe. Her stare hardly seeing that the blindfold had been removed, everything still a-blur.

"Clean yourself up, you look a mess", he said so nonchalantly as if the entire morning hadn't happened. As if _______ wasn't still laying there, having not stirred from her drug-induced coma. As if she hadn't just thrown herself at his feet to stop him dragging her away to the dungeon. Then the birds, in their ignorance, began to whistle.

Mary woke with a start.

Patting the straw mattress beside her. Her eyes unseeing, sewn shut with sleepy-dust and by the impulse to shield herself shield from the blinding sunrise. Feeling for her friend in the fabric, but finding nothing. Panic forced her eyes open to search for her. The room haunted by her absence, where...? The Chapel. Of course, bless her heart. The realisation of her morning habits quelled what anxieties had welled in that brief moment of terrible isolation. She'd be back soon enough. Praying her heart out for the lot of them, no doubt.

A sharp twinge forced Mary on her back once more as she tried to sit up. Every inch of her upper back and chest ached. Breasts abused, back torn open like a scratching post and she could've sworn the sharp, broken edge of a cracked rib or two was daring to pierce her lung if she dared rise too quickly. Easy does it now...

With a painful grown, Mary brought herself to her feet. Leaning on the wall every inch up. Little by little. She hadn't a crutch, so the wall will have to do. If the bustling just outside the door was anything to go by, the day's chores had already begun and she had missed breakfast. Dammit. She was no princess, but no sense in wasting good food - she needed it!

As if on queue, her stomach growled like a wretched beast, guttural and feral. 'Hush!', she hissed. She could last until midday, she reckoned. Just needed to... rest a bit more than usual, just not here, not alone. With aching shoulders she limped her way against the wall towards the kitchen, guided by the scent of the delectable bone broth stewing with the remnant's of Fowler's meaty supper from the night before.

The cook seemed to notice her struggling a lot, peeking up from his grand cauldron to shed a pitiful look of sympathy. "あなたはお腹が空いているでしょう？ほら、どうぞ!", he scooped a bountiful heap of bone broth for her to drink from. Warm and filling, just what she needed. Collapsing onto the wooden bench, she cupped her hands and gratefully accepted his gesture, "感謝に候ひます!" she exclaimed with joyful relief.

The broth was perhaps a tad too hot for consumption quite yet, but her aching stomach demanded sustenance! Other than the slight burn to her already desensitised tongue on the way down, all she felt was the pleasant (if bland) flavour of the broth. While so preoccupied by her food, she hadn't noticed Elizabeth's return. Even as she reached her bench and sat upon it with the weight of the world strapped to her back, making it creak evermore indiscreetly. One would think she'd gone deaf!

"Hey...", Elizabeth rested a quivering hand on Mary's shoulder, startling her and causing some of her broth to slip down the wrong hole. Choking it down, she coughed, "H-hey Sister Elizabeth, slept well?"

"You know I won't have", she retorted - some humour to her tone, though minimal.

Wanting to keep the mood light, Mary snorted, "No rest for the wicked, eh?", earning a light chuckle from Elizabeth. Music to her ears! She finished her broth as the two of them basked in each others' company in pleasant silence. A welcome respite from their daily trials. Soon enough though the silence was broken by Mary, with a concern that increasingly weighed them both down, "You think _______'ll be alright?"

"Lord knows, Mary. Lord knows...", Elizabeth mumbled, knowing exactly who knew.

[rimmsel]

progress!

[aspectpriority]

i fear i may be prepared to at least take a crack at a new weaving project. however. this means Warping, which is a bit of an ordeal, particularly with my haphazard set up. so like. pray for me lmao

for anyone curious (and because i like to ramble), i'm gonna try another tea towel with some 8/2 cotton. this is much much finer than my previous too projects and i'm going to try and do some colour stuff with it too. i'm Not going to try and do multiple towels on one warp purely because. i don't think i could warp long enough make that happen. but i'm Excited

[infinityvalkariel]

✧・°・。・°・。・ soaring circus. - 2025.01.31

[scentofpines]

i had to buy new period underwear and i already searched the entire fucking internet to buy those with the most coverage in the back (not the actual leak proof coverage but the normal cut of the underwear there) and omg. every single one of those gives me a wedgie. i am so so tired of womens underwear. and there are a shit ton that are even more narrow (without actually being a thong) like???? most of the models on the websites dont really have a butt and even of them it looks like they can take one step and the entire panty will be stuffed between their buttcheeks??????? ITS PERIOD UNDERWEAR. we dont even get to wear comfy underwear on our periods??? and then there are women who are like "im so glad theres finally sexy period underwear" girl. why?? i fucking hate everything :)))

[fideidefenswhore]

Yet, even Chapuys, who gives us this information, says earlier in the same letter that ‘there had been… talk of a new marriage for this king… which rumour agrees well with my own news from the court of France, where, according to letters [I have] received, courtiers maintain that this king has actually applied for the hand of Francis’ daughter’. Chapuys himself therefore does not connect up the rumours of a ‘new marriage’ with Jane Seymour. In early April, Jane was still little more than a lady whom the king was pursuing. At best, in accordance with the conventions of courtly love, she was the lady whom ‘he serves’ – a telling phrase. At worst, she was a passing fancy, whom Henry may have hoped to make his mistress. Chapuys certainly didn’t think much of Henry’s choice. He described Jane the day before Anne’s execution as ‘no great beauty’ and ‘not a woman of great wit’; he implied that she was unlikely to be a virgin, and reported that people said she was inclined ‘to be proud and haughty’. Yet, by this point, the world had changed, and with it, Henry’s intentions towards Jane. It is highly improbable that before Anne was considered guilty of adultery, Henry had seriously begun to plan to make Jane his wife.

1536: The Year that Changed Henry VIII, Suzannah Lipscomb

"I hear that, even before the arrest of the Concubine, the King, speaking with Mistress Jane Semel of their future marriage [...]"

[paunchsalazar]

as someone who has been your fan for a while, i was positively CHUFFED to see your DA:O doodles!! now, who's your fav character?

what?? thank you for liking my stuff what the heck!! now and in the past! :’ o

as for my favorite… I don’t think it’s much of a surprise…

I think a lot of it is that you meet him first!! and he’s vital to the plot and sticks around the whole time. I was mostly picking my party for the sake of role play so I brought him along 90% of the time and talked to him a lot, and I think as the only other person having these nightmares and sensing these things, it would be nice to have someone to talk about it with.

I was very charmed by the other romance options but I think by the time they met my warden was too far gone… he is a light in the dark… and he wants you to keep the dog!

who is your favorite!!

[arsenicflame]

so like.... i could just jump into making my janet cosplay right now if i wanted to. i shouldnt.... but should i?