#and at 12 they call you a young woman and prepare you for marriage.

[itsraining-somewhereelse]

I might not be a girl or a woman anymore, but I will never forget the way that 8 year old me had to wear a t-shirt under her summer sundress. She was told that it would be her fault if a man saw her shoulders and was tempted to sin.

I have seen little kids out in “immodest” clothing: tank tops with dinos, polkadotted short shorts, unicorn crop tops. You know how many of those children I’ve had sinful thoughts about?

None.

Imagine being such a spineless fucking pedophile that you blame the child for daring to have a body.

Remember when the men said to Christ, “the scantily-clad woman is causing us to have impure thoughts!”

They waited to hear “she must cover her body.”

Instead, Christ replied “if your hand betrays you, cut it off; and if your eyes cause you to sin, gouge them out.”

It’s high time to bring that back.

#at 8 I had just been baptized. which is where they ask if you will join the church. a thing that they had been grooming you to do from birth #and at 12 they call you a young woman and prepare you for marriage. #fuck the church #rain speaks #exmo #excult #exchristian #victim blaming #implied csa #eye trauma #exmormon #ex catholic #cult survivor #ex christian #ex jw #apostate #anti mormon #hall of fame

[chiefduckgarden]

The other woman

Wanda Maximoff x Williams!Reader

Natasha Romanoff x Williams!Reader

Royal AU

Angst - Cheating - Forced Marriage - If you love Natasha don't read this. (really)

Summary:

W: Young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes.

N: You can think that you're in love when you're really just engaged.

A/N: Reader's last name is Williams, it's easier to write this way. This has been in my drafts for months lol. I saw a Tik Tok edit of the Corpse Bride and thought of this. Still not sure about how it turned out though.

- Stop being so silly Y/N, you know I will miss you just as much as you're going to miss me - Wanda said smiling, her head resting on your chest while one of your hands rubbed her back up and down.

- I know, I just wish I could stay here with you, I don't care about this stupid trip, I'd rather be here for your birthday, for that giant celebration your father is planning - you said, looking down into her eyes.

- You've been here for each and every one of my birthdays since we were 12, nothing will happen if you miss this one, even if it's "especial", I understand you have to go with your parents - she replied.

You huffed.

- I don't even know why I have to go in the first place, they have always gone by themselves, I don't know why I'm required this time - you explained - And I don't like it either, they're up to something, I can feel it.

She cupped your cheek and pecked your lips.

- You're their only daughter, their only Princess, the only heir for their kingdom, maybe they want to give you more responsibilities from now on... You're gonna be Queen someday, it's time you get prepared for it...

- I've been preparing for it my whole life - you sighed - But you're right, maybe it's time for me to take it seriously.

You stared at her and smiled.

- And maybe I can talk to them in this trip about us - you said, and her eyes sparkled with illusion at your words - I'll tell them I'm marrying you, and we'll plan the proposal for when we get back.

- Are you serious my love? Will you ask my hand in marriage? - she asked happily.

- Of course I will, I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.

She kissed you and you smiled.

- Also, I have to beat that Jarvis Prince - you said - I've heard the rumors, but if I ask you first and you accept me, there will not be any reason for us to not get married.

- Your royal highness, it's time to leave, the King asked for your presence - you heard a voice calling for you.

- On my way - you replied.

- Come back to me my love, and have fun in your trip - Wanda said, kissing you one last time.

- I'll be back in no time, and then, it'll be just us, for eternity my lady.

- For eternity Y/N... - she replied.

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

4 months later.

The King and the Queen of Williams Kingdom are happy to announce the engagement of their heir, Princess Y/N, with the noble Princess Natasha Romanoff.

The Royal Family announced the happy news during their stay in the Romanoff Kingdom.

This makes young Romanoff the future Queen to the rightful heir to the throne of Williams House. The union of this two families represents one of the most important alliances in the last decades, the two kingdoms will surely benefit from this marriage.

It seems like love has been in the air from some time now, let's remember just a month ago the Maximoff family announced the marriage of their youngest daughter Princess Wanda and the future King Vision Jarvis, on her 18th birthday celebration.

Good luck to these new happy couples and the best of luck for all of them.

--------

- Don't act like you didn't knew about it! You fooled me! - you screamed in exasperation pacing around the room with the newsletter in your hand.

- We didn't knew Maximoff would get the girl married so early, but yes, there's no reason to lie, we knew about the wedding - your father told you.

- It was all planned, wasn't it? This trip, meeting Natasha, Wanda's birthday celebration - you mentioned harshly - You played with us like we were chess pieces, you decided our lives without asking us anything...

- There was nothing to ask, your little teenage romance with Wanda was senseless, she was promised to Jarvis even before they were born... And you, we waited for the right girl to come to your life, for the perfect Queen for you to love... And that is Natasha...

- YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE THAT! THAT WAS MY CHOICE! - you screamed, you couldn't handle listen to him anymore.

- Well it's not! I am the King and I know what's best for you and for the kingdom! And as long as this crown is perched on my head you will obey each and every one of my orders, especially those orders that relate to the future of my legacy!

You took a step back, not believing what your father was saying.

- You're gonna marry Natasha Romanoff and get the biggest alliance in the history of our family and that's a direct order, not from your father, but from your King!

That was it. Those last words made you understand that, whatever you had left to say would be pointless. The King made a decision, and there was no turning back.

You lowered you head, and nodded.

- Yes, your Majesty.

Holding back the tears from your breaking heart you had the courage to ask for one more thing.

- Tell Natasha I'll meet her in our residence back at home, I need to travel now to talk with Wanda about this decision and finish everything in the best way possible. We're still friends, and for the sake of our friendship with the Maximoff House it would be wise to keep our alliance with them.

Your father took a few seconds to process your request but finally nodded.

- That's okay, you can go now.

Bowing down once more you left the room with tears already falling down your face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stopping your horse right in front of the small cabin placed in the middle of the woods your heart was pounding like crazy. When you made it inside and saw those beautiful green eyes it finally explode in love.

- Y/N! My love - she said the moment you walked in, running into your arms.

You hugged her immediately and both of you melted in a heated passion kiss after all those months separated.

- My lady... My Wanda... How you've been my love? I know life must have been hell for you just as it's been for me - you said, with your arms still around the girl.

- Oh you have no idea... They made me marry Vision the same day of my birthday, without warning. When I told my father it was you the one I loved he told me I was crazy - she started to cry - He said it was ridiculous because you were already engaged to another woman, promised to someone else. It broke my heart because I realized we had fallen in their trap my love, they made the choices for us.

- I know, I realized that too, and when I confront my father about it... - you gulped at the memory - He yelled at me like never before and command me to get marry, not as my father, but as my king.

Wanda whipped away a tear that was rolling down your cheek.

- I didn't know they were gonna announce an engagement until the day before. They gave me no choice - you said, now both of you were sitting in the edge of the bed.

- Is Natasha aware of your your displeasure? - she asked.

You shook your head.

- No, I don't think so, she was very excited when they announced the engagement... She thinks it's all genuine.

- Vision thinks as well, he thinks I want him... Even though I have refused to sleep with him...

You looked at her worried. Heartbroken. Not even you had dare to touch her in a passionate way.

- What are we going to do my love? They took everything from us, even our freedom...

She sighed.

- I don't know... I'm just sure I don't want us to end, we are soul mates Y/N, you are the love of my life... I don't care if you're married to someone else as long as I know I'm the only one for you... Because you're the only one for me...

- Wanda, in my world there's only you and then the rest of the people. I don't care about Vision or Natasha, we love each other and that is all that matters...

- But how are we going to make this work? They can get suspicious...

- We were best friends before this ridiculous circus started, and it doesn't have to change now... We just have to be careful on how we act... - you paused for a few seconds to cup her face - Although I don't think i could ever hide this love I feel for you, it's very intense...

She smiled at your words.

- Me neither, but we'll try our best... - she looked around the little comfy cabin you were in - And also, we will always have this place for us, only you and I know about it, it will keep our secret safe.

You nodded and kissed her. It became heated every second, until she was sitting on your lap and your arms were around her waist, holding her close to your body.

- Wanda... - you said in a whisper between kisses - We need to stop, or either way I will...

- Do it - she said looking straight into your eyes, her green big eyes now full of desire - Take me Y/N, make me yours, i want you to be my first...

You looked at her, the knot on your lower stomach increasing.

- Are you sure?

She didn't respond, with her lower lip trapped between her teeth she grabbed your hand and guided your palm to her breast. You squeezed it, causing her to moan.

- God... - you whispered.

With a quick flip you turned the position, now she was laid on the bed, with you on top.

- Make love to me, darling - she said.

That night, your affair got sealed with the intertwine of your bodies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- And this is the main room, it's spacious and comfortable for the two of us - you said to Natasha, showing your future bedroom - The right room it's for me, and the left side is yours Princess Natasha, and we have the common space room right in the middle.

Natasha nodded but frowned.

- Why do we have separate beds? I thought we were sharing the same bedroom...

You smiled shaking your head.

- Oh no, we'll have the same room but I would feel more comfortable with my own space - you said walking into your side - But feel free to redecorate the whole room, change whatever you like, even my side, just leave my closet as it is right now.

She followed you confused.

- Where are you going? - she asked - We have my parents' farewell dinner tonight, tomorrow they'll go home.

- I know, I will go play tennis with Princess Wanda and then I'll meet you at the dinner - you said, walking into your closet to change your clothes.

- Princess Wanda? Again? You went out with her last week.

- Yes, you know she's my best friend, we both play tennis every week, it's our favorite sport - you said.

Natasha nodded. She didn't understand the reason behind your distance, at first she thought it was because you didn't know her before your visit at her kingdom, but now, after spending some weeks with you and failed tries on bonding with you she was very confused.

- I'll see you later - you said, walking out from your closet and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

- Okay - she answered.

She spent the rest of the evening choosing the colors, the carpets and selecting fabrics for your new room. She was loving the result, but wishing you were there to help her out.

- Do you think Princess Y/N will like this color for her bed? - she asked her maid, showing her the color tone she had choose.

- Oh it's beautiful, she will love it - the woman answered.

Natasha smiled, really hoping you will like it.

- You've known the princess since she was a kid, right? - Romanoff asked the woman again.

- Yes, I've been working for the Royal Family since 15 years ago...

Natasha kept silent for some second before asking again.

- Do you know how close is Princess Y/N with Princess Wanda Maximoff? I know they're best friends but I'm just curious about their friendship...

- Oh they are very very close, they grew up together and used to make everything side by side... They had the same private tutors, a lot of sleepovers, they both love tennis...

Natasha nodded, not wanting to listen more, but the woman kept talking.

- Princess Y/N used to write a lot of letters for Princess Wanda, every week, and Princess Wanda wrote for her too, the letters should be somewhere in here, she keeps them very well preserved... They're very special for each other - the woman smiled at the memory.

Nat cleared her throat and left the fabrics on the bed.

- It's time for me to get ready for dinner, please take all this out of the room and bring the dress.

- Yes your royal highness - the woman said, following the instructions.

Once alone, Natasha made some deep thinking. She didn't want to create false scenarios in her head, but since she met you, you had done nothing but talk about Wanda and spend time with her.

But she didn't had the time to over think because you stepped in the room in that moment. The happiness in your face could be notice from a thousand miles away.

- Natasha? I thought you would be on your way to dinner already... - you said.

- Oh I lost track of time with the decorations and everything, my dress will be here in any minute - she answered, and you nodded - Also, I think our parents will expect to see us coming in together...

You sighed and walked into your side of the room.

- Yes, I think you're right, I'm gonna take a bath and get ready - you said.

Before you could leave she asked.

- How was tennis with Princess Wanda? I can see you're really happy.

You froze for a second but then raised your head with a small smile.

- Yes, it was really funny... It's always funny.

You started walked again but she stopped your tracks once more, making you tense immediately with her next words.

- Maybe you can teach me, I'll go with you next time.

You didn't say anything, just slightly nodded your head and walked out.

Natasha was afraid that maybe she was trying to force herself into your daily activities, she didn't want bother you in any way, or make you upset with her.

But when you meet her again in the car that night, suddenly your behavior towards her changed dramatically.

You treated her kind and lovely the whole night. For the first time she felt like she was your fiancé and not just some random stranger that came into your life.

But the fairytale broke down the moment you stepped into your house. You only said goodnight to her and leave to go to your bed.

She wondered what she could've possibly done to make you upset again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next weeks you kept your distance for her like before, only talking to her when it was necessary. And she was starting to get pissed.

- I just want to know what can I do to make you feel closer to me... I've been trying for weeks to connect with you but nothing ever change. Just tell me what's wrong, so we can fix it.

You've been arguing for the last twenty minutes, you told her you'd go to play tennis and she started to yell at you.

- There's nothing to fix, because nothing is wrong Natasha... I just have a hard time to open myself with new people...

- But I'm not new people, I'm your fiancé, we're gonna get married Y/N, let's start acting like a couple for once.

You sighed. Tired.

- What do you want me to do? I just don't feel comfortable yet...

- Oh but you're not even trying, everyday you find something to get yourself busy with, and your spare time goes all in tennis and Princess Wanda... When will you have time for me?

You heart stopped. How dare she to even pronounce Wanda's name.

- Wanda has nothing to do with this - you said, almost in a whisper.

- I know, I'm not blaming her for anything, I'm blaming you...

You were about to say something when the butler knocked the door.

- Excuse me ma'am, Princess Wanda Maximoff is here for the tennis practice, she's waiting for you in the main hall.

You fixed your messy clothes and answered.

- Thanks, tell her I'll be with her in a minute.

- Yes your royal highness.

The butler left, leaving you and Natasha alone again.

- I need to go - you said, without looking at her.

- I know - she contained the tears - Just leave, I also need to go, I'm having tea with your mother later.

You nodded and walked out, with her following you some steps behind.

When you made it to the first floor your bad mood changed completely at the sight of your lover.

- Wanda, it's so nice to see you! Ready for tennis? - you asked, kissing her right hand and cheeks.

- Yes, let's go! - she replied.

When two guards followed you she quickly stopped them.

- Oh we're taking the horses, no need for security, just two best friends riding and playing... The Princess and I will be fine.

- Yes, don't worry, I'll be back in a few hours - you completed.

- Of course ma'am - your guards nodded.

Natasha saw the whole interaction, her eyes burning in jealousy. She knew Wanda was your best friend, but her instincts were screaming her something was off. She decided to ask your mother that afternoon.

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

- Oh dear lord! - Wanda screamed in pure bliss, three of your fingers buried deep inside her intimacy, you leaving small kisses all along her jaw and neck.

- Go on my lady, let me see you reach euphoria once more...

- Yeah... - she panted - Take me to heaven again Y/N, just keep doing that...

Your moans were hidden by the walls of the small cabin.

- Y/N... I'm gonna...

You felt her orgasm crash on your fingers, her wetness dripping down your hands and rolling down her thighs.

- Wanda... - you panted, taking the three fingers to your mouth - Oh God... - you moaned - You're so magical...

She smiled at you, wasting no time and kissing you as deep as she could, tasting herself in your mouth.

A few moments later you were both tangled in each other's arms, resting after your love making evening.

- Oh how I wish I could wake up every day inside your arms - she said with her head resting on your chest.

- I know, I would make love to you every morning and every night... I would take care of your sleep, watch you fall asleep into my arms, giving a goodnight kiss in the forehead...

A tear rolled down her face.

- We would be happy...

You nodded.

- Yes... So happy.

She stared at you for some seconds before speaking again.

- Are you happy? - she asked.

- What do you mean? You know I'm not - you answered, confused.

- I know, but you have a wife, Princess Natasha is beautiful... Have you bonded with her already?

You denied, shaking your head.

- Not really, I spend all my time doing my duties and my spare time I spend it with you...

She smiled sheepishly.

- Has she notice your absence?

You sighed.

- Yeah, just this morning before you came we were arguing about it... She wants me to spend more time with her...

- Same with Vision - she said - He wants me to go with him in this trip he's having next month... I don't think I'll can refuse

You blink confused.

- Does that mean I will not see you? For how long?

Your heart shredded.

- Three weeks...

- Oh...

She immediately sensed your mood change.

- But I will came back to you... Like always.

- I know... I trust you, I don't trust Vision though...

- Don't worry, no matter what happens I will always be yours.

- I'll always be yours too.

- Take this time to be with Natasha, calm her down and win her trust, it's your wife after all.

You sighed and nodded.

- I'll do whatever you ask me to... - you said kissing her hand.

She fell silent for a few moments. You turned to look at her and saw in her expression what was happening. She was thinking… processing something.

- What's wrong, my love? - you asked - What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?

She looked into your eyes, gazing at you for a moment before speaking.

- I want you to marry Natasha during my absence… I need you to seal your commitment to her while I'm not here. If I'm not present, I won't have to attend to the wedding, and I won't have to endure the pain of seeing you marry someone else… If you don't do it within those weeks, I'll be forced to attend your wedding, and I… I don't think I can bear it, Y/N… I won't be able to.

She was right. Due to your trip to the Romanoff realm, you didn't have to be present at Wanda's sudden wedding. You didn't have to go through the pain of seeing her standing at the altar with someone else. It wouldn't be fair to her to see you with Natasha.

You nodded and kissed her forehead. Both of you were crying, and you held her hand.

- I promise I will - you said - For you, Wanda. I just want you to know that even if it's Natasha to whom I vow love and eternal devotion at the altar, my words and my heart will always belong to you and only you.

That evening, you returned home with a heavy heart. But to your misfortune, the tragedies wouldn't stop that day. As soon as you passed through the grand and elegant door adorning your entrance, you saw your father's guards waiting. That only meant he was visiting, and that couldn't be good.

- Your Royal Highness - a man bowed before you - Your Majesty, King Williams is in the main study waiting for you.

You surveyed your surroundings before responding. Everything was in overwhelming silence. You looked for your butler and inquired - Is Princess Natasha at home?

- No, Your Highness, Princess Natasha is still visiting the royal palace with the queen, your mother," he responded.

You took a deep breath - I see - you cleared your throat - I will speak with my father right away. If the princess returns home, please notify me immediately. It is of the utmost importance that I speak with her.

You turned and made your way to the study. With every step you took, you could feel your heart beating stronger. You knew what was coming. As soon as you crossed that door, your father would reproach you for not paying enough attention to Natasha. You were nervous about the reprimand, but it was somewhat reassuring to know that this time you had an answer to his accusations.

- Your Majesty - you spoke, but he didn't look at you - To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Father? - You walked over and took a seat across from him. It was only then that you noticed his cold gaze.

- I'm afraid my visit won't bring you any pleasure, Y/N - he said - Your wife paid a visit today to your mother; they had tea together.

- I'm aware of that, Natasha mentioned it this morning - you said, trying to sound confident.

- My question here is, where were you? - he asked.

- I played tennis with Princess Wanda most of the afternoon, and we went riding for a while. I lost track of time between the game and our conversation... - you explained but your father interrupted you.

- Natasha told us where you were… She also mentioned some more interesting things about those little escapades of yours with Princess Wanda… I didn't like what I heard at all, Y/N - he said.

- Father, Wanda and I…- you began, but he interrupted.

- Wanda and you are no more, it ended the moment she got married and you became engaged - he shouted - Don't you understand? Natasha suspects you and Wanda, she has doubts about her marriage, this is very serious, Y/N. It could trigger political problems and destabilize our marriage agreements with her kingdom. As the heir to this realm, you have a responsibility to your people and to me. I cannot allow your actions to jeopardize our political stability. It's important that you maintain a strong relationship with Natasha and avoid any suspicion about your relationship with Wanda.

- There is nothing between Wanda and me, Father… we had something in the past, as you well know, but now she is married. It hasn't been easy for me, but I believe it's time to stabilize the situation. Wanda will be going on a trip with Prince Jarvis, and today we discussed my wedding. She encouraged me to get married as soon as possible to reassure Natasha about our marriage… I want to have the wedding in two weeks - you explained.

- Is that so… - he looked at you, analyzing - Well, so be it. Let's not delay any further. As soon as I return to the palace, I will inform your mother about your decision, and we will proceed with the necessary preparations. There's no turning back from this.

- You may think you've appeased me with your sudden decision to marry, but you can't deceive me, Y/N. The matters you have with Wanda… put an end to them. I am giving you the opportunity to do it on your terms. Remember that you are the heir; you must find a way to balance your personal feelings with your responsibilities as the future queen. I don't want to take drastic measures, but if you can't control this situation, I will have to intervene… and then I assure you, you will never see Wanda again - he warned.

Your father left your home, and the next morning, the entire kingdom was aware of your wedding. Natasha was in total ecstasy. As soon as you informed her of the date, she kissed you fervently and headed to the palace to begin preparations for your wedding.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't muster a spark of excitement. You seemed like a walking corpse. But your father's threats echoed in your mind, and you forced yourself to be the perfect fiancée for Natasha. In front of people, you looked like the ideal couple, planning the dream wedding together. But deep inside, you were dying to leave it all behind and run into Wanda's arms.

After two weeks that felt like an eternity, the day finally arrived. You were just hours away from getting married. Natasha was getting ready at the palace with her mother, while you prepared in the privacy of your home.

In that intimate moment, you allowed yourself to write a letter to Wanda, letting your heart speak and conveying all your love and devotion for her. When you finished, you placed it in the pocket of your shirt, right over your heart, and prepared to leave. You would find a way to deliver it to her later.

The moment had come. The entire kingdom was waiting. Natasha, her parents, and your parents were all there. It seemed like the most meticulously planned event of the year, with nothing missing. But to you, everything was missing because even though you were about to get married, the love of your life was not there.

The ceremony had passed quickly. You felt like your soul had left your body, but it was your turn to speak.

- Dear Natasha...

Wanda, thousands of kilometers away, knew what was happening. Her heart ached at the thought of you becoming someone else's wife today. She only found peace in remembering your words, knowing that any promise you made to Natasha today would truly be for her.

- Today, before all the witnesses from our respective kingdoms, I make this sacred commitment. I promise to be loyal and faithful in body and spirit, and always honor the alliance we have forged, an alliance that in my heart is deeper than others may understand. On sunny days and in dark nights, I will stand by your side, fulfilling the duties entrusted to us. I promise to be your unwavering support, your confidante, and your closest friend, even when our differences challenge us. Though our paths may seem divergent, in my heart, you will always be present. May our souls find solace in this commitment, and may our union, despite the hardships, shine as a beacon of hope in this realm. May the love I have for you, though I may not openly name it, guide my actions and thoughts as we fulfill our destiny. May our marriage, though not the one we would have chosen, be a source of strength and wisdom for us both. So I promise, with all the sincerity and respect you deserve.

Natasha smiled. You both kissed. Wanda cried. You cried. You touched your chest, where Wanda's letter resided, and smiled despite the tears.

When the wedding was over and you and Natasha were back home, you couldn't make love to her. You touched her, yes. She felt loved, yes. But you didn't feel anything. Your body belonged to Wanda. You didn't let Natasha touch you. As soon as it was over, you headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

Natasha, savoring the last moments of innocence, believing that you were completely hers, took your shirt in her hands to smell your perfume once more. She loved your scent. But as she brought the garment to her nose, she felt the stiffness of paper in her hands. Curiously, she took the letter from the pocket, and in a matter of seconds, everything fell apart.

There, in her hands, was the proof of your eternal love for Wanda. A letter, written a couple of hours ago, before joining your life with hers, where you professed your eternal devotion to another woman.

My Wanda:

As I write these words, my heart is filled with a love that cannot be contained or constrained by the circumstances surrounding us. In the dark hours leading up to my forced marriage, I want you to know that my love and devotion belong to you, and you alone.

Although the world has forced us down different paths, and we are destined to marry others, I want you to know that my heart will always be yours. Our love is a fire that burns deep within me, a fire that no arranged marriage can extinguish.

Every moment we share, every stolen glance, every whispered word in secret, is a treasure in my memory that I hold dear with all my being. You are the light that brightens my life, the reason I smile amidst the darkness of our situation.

Though words cannot fully express the magnitude of what I feel for you, I want you to know that I am willing to face whatever is necessary to protect our love, even if it means sacrificing some of my own happiness. I am bound by word and paper, but my body, mind, soul, and heart will always belong to you.

No matter what the future holds for us, rest assured that you will always be my love, my confidante, and my deepest longing. Our love is a secret that only we share, a bond that no one can break.

When I stand at the altar, reciting my vows to someone I did not choose, rest assured that my heart will beat for you and only you, as I promised. I will keep our love in a special and safe place in my heart, dreaming of the future that was stolen from us, where we are together without restrictions.

With all my love and devotion, always yours.

Y/N.

There, Natasha knew it. There was no turning back. She had married someone who didn't love her. You weren't hers, and you never would be.

As soon as you emerged from the bathroom, you saw Natasha holding the letter in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. She knew.

- Natasha...

- You lied to me.

- No, I didn't lie to you… My father forced me… they separated us, Natasha.

- All this time, I've been a fool… and you! - she pointed at you, shouting, crying inconsolably - How could you deceive me like this?

- You don't understand, you never will. It was never my intention to hurt you, Natasha…

- You've betrayed me, Y/N… you married me while all this time you were thinking about your mistress - Natasha cried.

At that moment, you lost your temper. You would never let anyone speak of Wanda in such a way.

- Don't speak of her like that. Wanda is not to blame. Don't ever say her name again… never - you asserted.

She laughed bitterly, wiping the tears from her face - It is what it is, Y/N, nothing more than your mistress…

It was then that you shouted - Don't you understand? You are the other woman in all of this… she and I were happy, she's the love of my life. Until they forced us apart. Titles don't matter, Natasha. She will always be my priority. YOU ARE THE OTHER WOMAN.

- NO! You are married to me! She is the other woman - Natasha shouted back.

You ran your hand through your hair in desperation. You sat down on the bed with your hands on your face. Natasha was crying, standing.

- I don't love you, Natasha. My father forced me to marry you. The day I saw Wanda for the last time, she asked me to have the wedding as soon as possible. I only moved forward with the plans because she requested it. You must understand that there is no one else for me but her.

Natasha looked at you, heartbroken.

- My kingdom needs yours for its resources; our union is the largest and most important due to the size of your realm. On the other hand, you need my kingdom for our reserves, as long as you are married to me, there will be stability. This marriage benefits us all, and I need us to cooperate to provide the peace our people deserve.

You explained, and she knew it was true.

- The kingdom of Wanda is small; it didn't serve much purpose to unite us. Besides, her parents had promised her hand to Prince Jarvis since she was born. We had everything against us, Natasha. We still have everything against us - you said - I'm sorry that I can't be the partner you desire, but unfortunately, the story of my life was written long before I met you. I belong to Wanda, and Wanda belongs to me. You need me, and I need you. The union is done, but you must know that I can't love you as you desire, I never will.

By this point, Natasha was just sobbing. You got up from the bed and walked to your side of the room.

- We have breakfast with our families tomorrow. We must be at the palace at nine o'clock.

You left the room, and your body felt more relaxed. You wouldn't have to pretend anymore.

Time passed, and Wanda returned from her trip. As soon as she set foot on land, she ran to find you at the cabin. She tearfully told you that Jarvis had been with her. He wanted an heir. With desperation and desire, you claimed her body for hours.

Months later, when her son was born, Natasha and you visited the couple in their palace. Wanda smiled as she showed you the little one. He was so much like Wanda that you cried with emotion. In that small moment when you held little Tommy, and Wanda sang to him beside you, you allowed yourself to dream of what could have been. The future and happiness that were denied to you. For a brief moment, you pretended that this was your little family. And you cried. You cried for everything that was taken from you.

Natasha, who watched everything from afar, finally understood. Wanda and you loved each other and would love each other forever. She could never compete with her.

She was just another piece in the chessboard that life played. She couldn't do anything else but resign herself. In the end, no one was happy. Not her. Not you. Not Wanda. Everyone was miserable because of someone else's desires. But that's how life was, and like the others, she had to accept it.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel #wandavision #wanda fanfic #wanda x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen fanfic #lizzie olsen x you #lizzie olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x female reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #marvel imagine #wanda imagine #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #wanda x reader

[cosmerelists]

What your preferred Navani ships say about you

[Previously: preferred Kaladin ships, preferred Moash ships by @cosmereplay]

Let’s talk about your preferred ship(s) for Navani, and the very serious and accurate conclusions this allows me to draw as a result.

1. Navani x Evi

You did the math. Two women in unhappy marriages whose husbands are away at war and who canonically hung out.

It’s just math! Sexy, lesbian math.

2. Navani x Gavilar

You mutter things like “Shipping it doesn’t mean I think it’s healthy. Shipping it doesn’t mean I think it’s healthy” as you read or write the latest bout of filthy hate sex.

3. Navani x Dalinar

You are at peace. Your skin is glowing. You are well hydrated.

Honestly, good for you.

4. Navani x Gavilar x Dalinar

You want to see a woman play both sides of the obsessive, violent coin. You may have found yourself saying “girl boss” unironically at least once.

5. Navani x Raboniel

You have read Rhythm of War.

6. Navani x Moash

Your eyes gleam as you prepare your characters for what you call the “Trauma Blender.”

7. Navani x Kaladin

You see a milf and the hot young man under her command during an invasion arc and you start vibrating with excitement.

8. Navani x Rushu [Navani’s antifabrian assistant]

You’re a big fan of Devil Wears Prada fanfic.

9. Navani x Rlain

You know it’s a crack ship but you just...you noticed how hard Navani tried to convince the Sibling to bond Rlain and you thought, “You sure thinking a lot about bonding Rlain, eh Navani” and then it was all downhill from there.

10. Navani x the Stormfather

I have to assume you’d think it’d be funny. I mean, imagine Dalinar’s face.

11. Navani x Fen

You love women in power. 

12. Navani x Wit

You imagine a hot, older women swatting you with a rolled up paper and your heart flutters.

13. Navani x Shallan

You think ladies touching safe-hands is peak eroticism, especially if both the women are also smart. At least once, you have contemplated a sex scene happening in a carriage on an expedition to the Shattered Plains. 

14. Navani x Aesudan

You are a simple person, with simple desires. And the main such desire is to see Elhokar suffer.

15. Navani x Dalinar x Sadeas

You see a love triangle with two shippy male rivals and one canon het couple and you think “A triad would fix this.”

Either that or you’re this person @knightsgaydiant 

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Navani

[eternal-echoes]

“In biblical times, young women would marry in their early teens, soon after becoming able to bear children. Nowadays the median age at which a woman first marries is twenty-five, which is the oldest age in American history.1 In many societies around the globe, boys become men as teens. They get their jobs, learn to take care of themselves, and prepare to carry the responsibilities of a family. In America, we've got twenty-eight-year-old men who live in their moms' basements and play video games until one in the morning. As a result, the goals of a mature life, including marriage, tend to get pushed back.

This can be a challenge for couples because our bodies desire marital intimacy about a decade before we're ready for the responsibilities that follow. However, the delay can also be a good thing because it allows many women to pursue their college dreams and career goals. It's also beneficial because the place in the brain where reasoning and judgment take place is not fully developed until a person reaches his, or her early twenties.2 When a woman waits until she's twenty-four or twenty-five to get married, she's neurologically able to make a more informed decision because her brain is more capable of making wise choices. If she marries as a teenager, she's more likely to regret the decision and later wonder, "What was I thinking?" This brain research isn't just a matter of speculation. Look at divorce rates according to the age of the bride: If a woman is married before her eighteenth birthday, she has a 48 percent chance of being divorced within ten years of her wedding. If she waits until she is twenty to twenty-four years old, it drops to 29 percent, and if she waits to marry until she is twenty-five or older, her odds of divorce in the first ten years of marriage drop to 24 percent.3

Young marriages are not necessarily doomed. Many people today have grandparents who married young and enjoyed lasting marriages. However, they matured at a younger age and lived at a time when divorce was less prevalent. Regardless of what happened two generations ago, today's woman would be wise to avoid rushing down the aisle. If she marries too young, she often gets a bit "itchy" after a few years. She looks around at women her age, and begins to think:

I never got the degree I dreamed about. I never traveled to Europe with my friends. I never even dated around much. My whole life has been about him. We spent so much time dreaming about ourselves that I forgot about myself in the process.

The lack of fulfilled hopes and goals may cause her to resent her husband and children. What she realizes too late is that her marriage would have been more stable and secure if she had fulfilled these wishes prior to becoming a wife and mother.

It's easy to find marriages that are troubled because the decision was rushed. But it's hard to find ones that were weakened because the couple didn't marry soon enough. Therefore, know that if it is God's will for you to be with a particular man, taking more preparation time for marriage will only strengthen the union.”

-Jason and Crystalina Evert, How to Find Your Soulmate Without Losing Your Soul

12 Whitehead and Popenoe, “Why Men Won’t Commit.”

13 Jay N. Giedd, “Structural Magnetic Resonance Imaging of the Adolescent Brain,” Adolescent Brain Development: Vulnerabilities and Opportunities 1021 (June 2004): 77-85; Medical Institute for Sexual Health, “Maturation of the Teen Brain,” Integrated Sexual Health Today, Spring 2005, 2-9. 14 Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, “Cohabitation, Marriage, Divorce, and Remarriage in the United States,” Table 21.

—

Note: I don’t think not marrying young is meant to be an absolute rule since the authors list how in the past eras and in other parts of the world would marry at a young age. I firmly believe that God calls people to marry at different stages in their lives depending on what’s best for them. I believe that the point that the authors are trying to make is not let the romance of a wedding date rush the discernment and courtship process.

#Relationships #dating #love #quotes #Jason Evert #Crystalina Evert #Jason and Crystalina Evert #How to Find Your Soulmate Without Losing Your Soul

[ni-kol-koru]

KnB 30-Days Challenge

Day 12 : Favorite Coach

Araki Masako 💜

There aren't many choices here, so it wasn't too difficult to choose who my favorite coach was. Still, I was pretty torn between Masako Araki of Yōsen and Masaaki Nakatani of Shūtoku. Then I remembered how cool Masako was, and that it just had to be her.

When it's about her coaching, I cannot say so much. She is a coach of a power school, she surely deserves that place. I am guessing it's because she used to be a really good basketball player herself and knows how to put misbehaving kids into the line, by hitting them with a sword, of course. Still, I can say she is pretty dedicated, gathering CDs and always having game strategies prepared in advance.

When it's about her personality and past, there is much to talk about! She is a P.E. teacher in Yōsen! It is kinda in line with her, somehow, as I can see her as someone who seeks some form of action in her life. She also has a really interesting hobby! It is motocycles. When she was young, she even used to be a part of a biker gang! Now, if you know something about Japanese culture, you probably heard of how big of a problem gangs are. Biker gangs are no different! Making noise, disrupting traffic and smashing things, were just some of the things Japanese biker gang members would do. Well, Masako being part of a biker gang can only mean she was a savage, a rebel, and a troublemaker! Well, now that she is older and more mature, she doesn't do any rebellious activities, nor is she a part of any biker gangs. She only takes care of motocycles now! There is a silly story related to her past that always makes me giggle. It is about her and Genta Takeuchi (coach of Kaijō)! When he was younger, he used to be in love with Masako. Well, he decided to confess his love to her, with an intention of marriage, but he just ended up being chased away by her biker gang and even got a sweet hit by her sword. A hilarious and rather interesting and unexpected interaction between two coaches! Well, she is still single to this day. She is a girlboss, so, perhaps, she doesn't need, or want, a husband.

I also love Masako for something rather stupid. It is her motto: "Those who put off what they can do today till tomorrow are stupid". Sometimes when I want to procrastinate and leave something for later when I have time to do it, I think to myself how Masako, the coolest woman ever, would call me stupid if I really did that. And if Masako called me stupid, I would think I have failed in life. So, she is a part of the reason I never turn in my homework late!

Araki Masako is just really cool and I think she is a girlboss. I wish we had more of her, and Yōsen, it would be so interesting and I know I would enjoy every moment with them all! 💜

#knb #knb 30-days challenge #araki masako #yosen #yousen #once i saw someone on tiktok comment under an edit of yousen how masako is mommy #i have never vibed with a comment more in my entire life #she is so mother #now i should go do my homework #even though it's not due #BECAUSE I HAVE TIME #masako would be so proud of me if she knew i did my homework before i got the notification 'homework due today 23:59'

[thenewdeadseascrolls]

Judges 9: 50-57. "The Epistasis."

So Abimelek studied the Torah and memorized its principals and attacked the people who listened to each other instead of studying their faith on their own. He won a major victory, accrued some real self-esteem and moved on. The conclusion to Chapter 9 of the Shoftim starts with his next conquest: Thebez.

Thebez means "shame on you". The attack is not successful: The people see him coming and are not about to allow him to shame them, so they prepare and retaliate. He dies, killed by a woman who throws a stumbling block at him and cracks his head open.

The Rab says the story means there were too few real Jews attending the Shule to deal with a king who was up and coming. The rest were too young and the elders were too skeptical to learn anything new. The use of the upper millstone, the advice of a real Rabbi, is used to put an end to this man's pride and settle the town down.

Abimelek admits he was precocious and thus ends the King of Polish. The Rab says Abimelek murdered the 70 Clans of Israel by being a poor example. He also says the shule was too heavy handed. Recall, for every Jew out there there is one better and also one worse. The goal is not to stand out. Standing out is a risk.

50 Next Abimelek went to Thebez and besieged it and captured it. 

51 Inside the city, however, was a strong tower, to which all the men and women—all the people of the city—had fled. They had locked themselves in and climbed up on the tower roof. 

52 Abimelek went to the tower and attacked it. But as he approached the entrance to the tower to set it on fire, 53 a woman dropped an upper millstone on his head and cracked his skull.

54 Hurriedly he called to his armor-bearer, “Draw your sword and kill me, so that they can’t say, ‘A woman killed him.’” So his servant ran him through, and he died. 

55 When the Israelites saw that Abimelek was dead, they went home.

56 Thus God repaid the wickedness that Abimelek had done to his father by murdering his seventy brothers. 

57 God also made the people of Shechem pay for all their wickedness. The curse of Jotham son of Jerub-Baal came on them.

The story ends stating everyone paid a price for failing to do things right. It should not be possible for the Jewish community to produce one Jew that is more polished than the rest.

Some are more learned than the rest, but in practice, one should behave as fully aligned with one's understanding of the Torah and Tanakh, no more and no less.

The final comment about the curse of Jotham, AKA Gotham the Angel News Service and Jerub Baal, "one's husband's socks", "to be owned by one's husband", is a prescription for proper courtship and marriage. Good Jews are not allowed to stand out or stand alone, they are always owned by at least one other.

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 50:  Next Abimelek went to Thebez and besieged it and captured it. The Value in Gematria is 3230, גב‎‎ג‎אֶפֶס, gbgaps, "gypsum plaster", when a free person makes plaster while the rest are holed up, it is a violation of Shabbos and this is why Abimelek's second siege failed. Attempts to tell others what to do, even if you are the king is forbidden on Shabbos:

v. 51: They had locked themselves in and climbed up on the tower roof= they were observing the Sabbath. The Value in Gematria is 12097, יב‎ אֶפֶסטז‎ , 12 Epistez, "epistasis of the 12."

Epistasis is the interaction of genes that are not alleles, in particular the suppression of the effect of one such gene by another. The objective of a Jew is to suppress the not-self and overwrite it with the wholly Jewish Self who is explained in the Torah and the Tanakh.

One must cross pollinate with other Jews who understand what this means if this is to be successful. Standing out or standing outside is not enough.

v. 52-53:  Abimelek went to the tower and attacked it. But as he approached the entrance to the tower to set it on fire, 53 a woman dropped an upper millstone on his head and cracked his skull.

The Value in Gematria is 8918, חט‎אח‎, "a sin." "Something you do that you know you should not."

Which one was it this time?

There are strong implications Abimelek was sleeping around quite a lot. If he got locked out of the tower where everyone else was gathered on the roof, chances are likely he was out with the guys instead of celebrating Shabbat, and his mother in law dropped a rock on his head from on high for it.

v. 54-55: When the Israelites saw that Abimelek was dead, they went home. The Value in Gematria is 11806, יאחאֶפֶסו‎, = "they will arrest him."

v. 56-57: Thus God repaid the wickedness that Abimelek had done to his father by murdering his seventy brothers. God also made the people of Shechem pay for all their wickedness. The curse of Jotham son of Jerub-Baal came on them.

The Value in Gematria is 9814, טחאא, tahaa...

ta= the cell

ha=it

a= learned

=

The gene transplant was successful.

[dab1-ex]

The Samurai

Summary: You’re in an arranged marriage with Naoya he may not seem like the prince charming but maybe a your knight may come saving you, his the Samurai Choso from the Kamo clan. Will he save you from this disaster you call a marriage or will Naoya change for the better or come to his demise as the worst.

Genre: Historical Au

Warnings: Angst

Chapter 2

1, 3, 4 , 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

___________________________________________

The next few weeks consisted of your fleeting thoughts of that Samurai you had seen for no longer than two minutes, with no verbal exchange but the way you looked at each other said enough.

You felt guilty in the beginning for having an infatuation with the Samurai, but you were a young woman with a husband that only breed her at night for an heir.

You barely even had an actual conversation with Naoya, the only form of communication is when he yelled at you for your incompetence as a wife and a woman of status.

"(Y/N) get ready we are expecting guests from the Kamo clan in regards to distribution of the sake in the pubs and I need you there to make it look like I care for your father's implications in all this" Naoya said walking into your shared room heading to his cupboard not even sparring you a look.

When he said Kamo your heart skipped a beat, you remembered the Samurai was with Noritoshi a Kamo and his Armour had Kamo colors so the Samurai had to be from the Kamo clan, and the chances of seeing him was high. This thought alone made you smile.

"What are you blushing about?" Naoya said as he was half undressed changing into another Kimono.

"Is my little wife still not satisfied from the fucking I gave her last night" he said smirking.

Remnants of last night were dried on your upper thighs, now beginning to flake. He was persistent every night to cum deep in you.

"Perhaps we could go a quick one, to satisfy your needs so you won't be a nuisance in the meeting" he said walking nearer.

"Naoya-Sama, I'm still very satisfied from last night" you said looking down.

"Then why are you smiling wife" he said forming a frown.

"Are you thinking of another" he said putting his attention back to his kimono.

"No never I was - " you sentence was cut short as Naoya began talking.

"I don't care who you're thinking about, he won't get to fuck you like I do and if he lays a hand on you consider it gone, besides

I will always love one woman above all; you compared to her is as a mole Hill compared to a mountain"

The words he said left you with shock, you knew you weren't the first woman his been with but to admit aloud that you didn't even have some of his affections hurt even if you didn't want them. So there was someone else after all and here you thought he wouldn't take a concubine.

"Why not be with her instead?" You said looking at him now head no longer bowed down.

"She's of lower class and has no advantages of being with"

" So you only married me for the advantages I would bestow upon you" you said feeling a small pain in your heart.

"I'm a man of the clan the clan comes before myself, besides you were beautiful enough to guarantee me good offspring, and besides you are a novelty to have amongst men" he said with a small smile.

You were nothing but a trophy he was holding, you don't know why you felt hurt by what he said, you had already prepared yourself that this was probably the reason he married you.

__________________________________________

You sat down next to your husband, wearing the zenin clan colours kimono to represent your alliance, if Naoya not holding you by the waist wasn't enough to show who you belonged to.

The meeting was long and boring, speaking in terms that had little interest to you. You looked at Noritoshi hoping you would see the Samurai next to him, but he wasn't only his father sat besides him.

The meeting came to an end and food was presented on the chubdais in front of you.

"Husband I am feeling unwell"

"What's wrong wife" he said faking worry.

"I feel nauseas rising in me"

"Well my wife if you wish to resign back to our quarters you a may" Naoya said smiling planting a kiss to your hand.

" Child sickness is common but doesn't it usually occur in the morning" the old Kamo man said with a laugh.

The weren't pregnant not yet at least, that joke clearly struck a cord with Naoya, before he laughed at it he had a face of distaste. He couldn't believe that you weren't pregnant yet and yet you were relieved.

You simply smile and nodded thanking everyone and bidding them farewell.

You weren't actually nauseated you just couldn't spend another minute with that men and you hoped that your early departure would allow you to see the man of your infatuation.

You walked throught the corridors until you landed in the courtyard.

There he sat in the garden near the pond he seemed to be inspecting the fish. You starred at him contemplating whether you would continue to stare or actually speak to him.

You knew speaking to him would infuriate Naoya if he found out but you at least needed to know his name he was a guest it be rude not to.

Your mind seemed to be making reasons why you should approach the Samurai, even if they were majority not really a reason.

Your mind had finally convinced you to speak to the Samurai, least get his name. As you began walking up to him Fujiko appeared.

"My lady" Fujiko said with concern in her voice.

"Master Naoya sent word to me from one of the guards saying you're not feeling well and I didn't find you in your quarters" she said coming closer.

He disruption seemed to have caught the attention of the Samurai as he turned his attention for a brief moment towards the two of you and then back to the pond.

"I'm feeling better Fujiko, I just needed so fresh air"

"But still my lady you should not wonder off without any guards at this time, it's getting dark out; people could kidnap you and use you for ransom" She said trying to guide you back to your quarters.

"Fujiko I'm a grown woman" you said getting irritated as she was preventing you from speaking to him.

"My lady I only have my best interests for you, so please before we get into trouble" she said hurriedly.

You pulled yourself away from her.

"Fujiko, you are my lady but do not speak to me as if I do not have authority just as much as Naoya-Sama, so if I wish to stay I shall"

Fujiko was about to grab your arm once again and plead for you to go back, but then you heard another voice.

"Your lady in waiting is correct, Lady Zenin. It may be the Zenin estate but you carry no weapons on you, you would be harmed and that would displease your husband"

You arguing with Fujiko had caused the Samurai to speak to you.

"Excuse me" he said as he was leaving you and Fujiko.

"What's your name Samurai" you said.

" Choso" he said without even turning around.

__________________________________________

Choso..... the name imprinted in your head.

You wondered when you would see him again, what did he think about Naoya, what did he think about you, what did he think of your marriage to Naoya, did he think you were irrational.

"(Y/N)" Naoya said loudly.

"Are you listening to me"

"Sorry I was thinking about how lovely the day is" you said looking at him faining innocence.

"Ever since that meeting your head has been in the clouds. Is it the nauseas that is causing this?"

"I'm not sure Naoya-Sama"

"Is it perhaps due to something else?"

You knew what he was implying perhaps hoping for the answer he wanted it to be.

"No Naoya-Sama, it's not due to any reasons that may be of your interests"

The silence between the two of you was unbearable, you didn't know if you should speak, or just continue to eat your breakfast in silence.

"Well my father requets our presence" He said breaking the silence.

__________________________________________

" Well my son and my sons wife it's been nearly 6 months and no news of an heir" Naobito said looking at you.

"I'm sorry father, I'll do better"

"I do not wish to hear your apologizes Naoya"

"I shall blame neither of you but before the end of the second season after this, your wife must be with child. Is that understood?"

"Yes father" Noaya said with his head down.

"Good. Now for the real reason I have called upon the two of you. After our meeting with the Kamos a while back consisting of the Sake distribution they wish to invite us to celebrating some of the new pubs opened, I cannot leave of now for my duties here have overcome me, so the two of you will go" Naobito said reaching for his cup of tea.

"Father I can go alone, my wife has been ill lately" Naoya said with a look of concern.

He knew you weren't really sick, he just didn't wish for you to attend. Perhaps you being there would hinder him bedding another woman.

"No I have spoken it's important for both of you to go, (Y/N) has ties with the sake industry, its important her presence is there as well as a representative of the Zenin Clan. And besides perhaps a change of scenery will make your wife feel better and help her bare a child" Naobito said sipping his tea.

Naoya didn't say anything he just nodded to his father and you followed suit.

You left Naobito chambers, silently walking behind Naoya.

"Don't think much of me not wanting you with, if you fall anymore ill I'll have to look for another bride and I dread that" he said hastening his walk.

His words didn't sting anymore, you didn't care about what he said or that he was irritated with your existence, your main concentration was on the fact that you would see choso and perhaps have a real conversation with him.

#choso x reader #choso kamo #choso x female reader #choso x y/n #jjk choso #choso x you #naoya zenin x reader #jjk naoya #naoya zenin #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfic #jujutsu naoya #jujutsu choso #jujitsu #jjk imagines #jjk x you #jujutsu x reader #jjk nanami

[uomo-accattivante]

Excellent article about bringing a re-make of Ingmar Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage to fruition, and the twenty-year friendship that Oscar Isaac and Jessica Chastain share:

There were days on the shoot for “Scenes From a Marriage,” a five-episode limited series that premieres Sept. 12 on HBO, when Oscar Isaac resented the crew.

The problem wasn’t the crew members themselves, he told me on a video call in March. But the work required of him and his co-star, Jessica Chastain, was so unsparingly intimate — “And difficult!” Chastain added from a neighboring Zoom window — that every time a camera operator or a makeup artist appeared, it felt like an intrusion.

On his other projects, Isaac had felt comfortably distant from the characters and their circumstances — interplanetary intrigue, rogue A.I. But “Scenes” surveys monogamy and parenthood, familiar territory. Sometimes Isaac would film a bedtime scene with his onscreen child (Lily Jane) and then go home and tuck his own child into the same model of bed as the one used onset, accessorized with the same bunny lamp, and not know exactly where art ended and life began.

“It was just a lot,” he said.

Chastain agreed, though she put it more strongly. “I mean, I cried every day for four months,” she said.

Isaac, 42, and Chastain, 44, have known each other since their days at the Juilliard School. And they have channeled two decades of friendship, admiration and a shared and obsessional devotion to craft into what Michael Ellenberg, one of the series’s executive producers, called “five hours of naked, raw performance.” (That nudity is metaphorical, mostly.)

“For me it definitely felt incredibly personal,” Chastain said on the call in the spring, about a month after filming had ended. “That’s why I don’t know if I have another one like this in me. Yeah, I can’t decide that. I can’t even talk about it without. …” She turned away from the screen. (It was one of several times during the call that I felt as if I were intruding, too.)

The original “Scenes From a Marriage,” created by Ingmar Bergman, debuted on Swedish television in 1973. Bergman’s first television series, its six episodes trace the dissolution of a middle-class marriage. Starring Liv Ullmann, Bergman’s ex, it drew on his own past relationships, though not always directly.

“When it comes to Bergman, the relationship between autobiography and fiction is extremely complicated,” said Jan Holmberg, the chief executive of the Ingmar Bergman Foundation.

A sensation in Sweden, it was seen by most of the adult population. And yes, sure, correlation does not imply causation, but after its debut, Swedish divorce were rumored to have doubled. Holmberg remembers watching a rerun as a 10-year-old.

“It was a rude awakening to adult life,” he said.

The writer and director Hagai Levi saw it as a teenager, on Israeli public television, during a stint on a kibbutz. “I was shocked,” he said. The series taught him that a television series could be radical, that it could be art. When he created “BeTipul,” the Israeli precursor to “In Treatment,” he used “Scenes” as proof of the concept “that two people can talk for an hour and it can work,” Levi said. (Strangely, “Scenes” also inspired the prime-time soap “Dallas.”)

So when Daniel Bergman, Ingmar Bergman’s youngest son, approached Levi about a remake, he was immediately interested.

But the project languished, in part because loving a show isn’t reason enough to adapt it. Divorce is common now — in Sweden, and elsewhere — and the relationship politics of the original series, in which the male character deserts his wife and young children for an academic post, haven’t aged particularly well.

Then about two years ago, Levi had a revelation. He would swap the gender roles. A woman who leaves her marriage and child in pursuit of freedom (with a very hot Israeli entrepreneur in place of a visiting professorship) might still provoke conversation and interest.

So the Marianne and Johan of the original became Mira and Jonathan, with a Boston suburb (re-created in a warehouse just north of New York City), stepping in for the Stockholm of the original. Jonathan remains an academic though Mira, a lawyer in the original, is now a businesswoman who out-earns him.

Casting began in early 2020. After Isaac met with Levi, he wrote to Chastain to tell her about the project. She wasn’t available. The producers cast Michelle Williams. But the pandemic reshuffled everyone’s schedules. When production was ready to resume, Williams was no longer free. Chastain was. “That was for me the most amazing miracle,” Levi said.

Isaac and Chastain met in the early 2000s at Juilliard. He was in his first year; she, in her third. He first saw her in a scene from a classical tragedy, slapping men in the face as Helen of Troy. He was friendly with her then-boyfriend, and they soon became friends themselves, bonding through the shared trauma of an acting curriculum designed to break its students down and then build them back up again. Isaac remembered her as “a real force of nature and solid, completely solid, with an incredible amount of integrity,” he said.

In the next window, Chastain blushed. “He was super talented,” she said. “But talented in a way that wasn’t expected, that’s challenging and pushing against constructs and ideas.” She introduced him to her manager, and they celebrated each other’s early successes and went to each other’s premieres. (A few of those photos are used in “Scenes From a Marriage” as set dressing.)

In 2013, Chastain was cast in J.C. Chandor’s “A Most Violent Year,”opposite Javier Bardem. When Bardem dropped out, Chastain campaigned for Isaac to have the role. Weeks before shooting, they began to meet, fleshing out the back story of their characters — a husband and wife trying to corner the heating oil market in 1981 New York — the details of the marriage, business, life.

It was their first time working together, and each felt a bond that went deeper than a parallel education and approach. “Something connects us that’s stronger than any ideas of character or story or any of that,” Isaac said. “There’s something else that’s more about like, a shared existence.”

Chandor noticed how they would support each other on set, and challenge each other, too, giving each other the freedom to take the characters’ relationship to dark and dangerous places. “They have this innate trust with each other,” Chandor said.

That trust eliminated the need for actorly tricks or shortcuts, in part because they know each other’s tricks too well. Their motto, Isaac said, was, “Let’s figure this [expletive] out together and see what’s the most honest thing we can do.”

Moni Yakim, Juilliard’s celebrated movement instructor, has followed their careers closely and he noted what he called the “magnetism and spiritual connection” that they suggested onscreen in the film.

“It’s a kind of chemistry,” Yakim said. “They can read each other’s mind and you as an audience, you can sense it.”

Telepathy takes work. When they knew that shooting “Scenes From a Marriage” could begin, Chastain bought a copy of “All About Us,” a guided journal for couples, and filled in her sections in character as Mira. Isaac brought it home and showed it to his wife, the filmmaker Elvira Lind.

“She was like, ‘You finally found your match,’” Isaac recalled. “’Someone that is as big of a nerd as you are.’”

The actors rehearsed, with Levi and on their own, talking their way through each long scene, helping each other through the anguished parts. When production had to halt for two weeks, they rehearsed then, too.

Watching these actors work reminded Amy Herzog, a writer and executive producer on the series, of race horses in full gallop. “These are two people who have so much training and skill,” she said. “Because it’s an athletic feat, what they were being asked to do.”

But training and skill and the “All About Us” book hadn’t really prepared them for the emotional impact of actually shooting “Scenes From a Marriage.” Both actors normally compartmentalize when they work, putting up psychic partitions between their roles and themselves. But this time, the partitions weren’t up to code.

“I knew I was in trouble the very first week,” Chastain said.

She couldn’t hide how the scripts affected her, especially from someone who knows her as well as Isaac does. “I just felt so exposed,” she said. “This to me, more than anything I’ve ever worked on, was definitely the most open I’ve ever been.”

“It felt so dangerous,” she said.

I visited the set in February (after multiple Covid-19 tests and health screenings) during a final day of filming. It was the quietest set I had ever seen: The atmosphere was subdued, reverent almost, a crew and a studio space stripped down to only what two actors would need to do the most passionate and demanding work of their careers.

Isaac didn’t know if he would watch the completed series. “It really is the first time ever, where I’ve done something where I’m totally fine never seeing this thing,” he said. “Because I’ve really lived through it. And in some ways I don’t want whatever they decide to put together to change my experience of it, which was just so intense.”

The cameras captured that intensity. Though Chastain isn’t Mira and Isaac isn’t Jonathan, each drew on personal experience — their parents’ marriages, past relationships — in ways they never had. Sometimes work on the show felt like acting, and sometimes the work wasn’t even conscious. There’s a scene in the harrowing fourth episode in which they both lie crumpled on the floor, an identical stress vein bulging in each forehead.

“It’s my go-to move, the throbbing forehead vein,” Isaac said on a follow-up video call last month. Chastain riffed on the joke: “That was our third year at Juilliard, the throb.”

By then, it had been five months since the shoot wrapped. Life had returned to something like normal. Jokes were possible again. Both of them seemed looser, more relaxed. (Isaac had already poured himself one tequila shot and was ready for another.) No one cried.

Chastain had watched the show with her husband. And Isaac, despite his initial reluctance, had watched it, too. It didn’t seem to have changed his experience.

“I’ve never done anything like it,” he said. “And I can’t imagine doing anything like it again.”

###

#oscar isaac #jessica chastain #scenes from a marriage #hagai levi #michelle williams #elvira lind #behind the scenes #article

[mgsapphire]

My K-drama recommendation master list Part 2

You can find part 1 here

Look, you gave us relatively new recommendations, what about ones older than 10 years? I'll give you my top 5

Princess Hours (2006) Is a modern Cinderella story. It's 24 episodes long. Available on Viki.

Personal Taste (2010) Honestly, problematic plot if you put your mind into it, but entertaining nonetheless. It's 16 episodes long, each one lasting a little over an hour, available on Viki.

Cinderella's Sister (2010) You hate every character, but there's still something that makes you watch it. Available on Viki.

Thank You (2007) was ahead of its time, it's about a single mother with a daughter who has an HIV+ diagnosis. 16 episodes long, each one lasting a little over an hour. Available on Viki.

Stairway to Heaven (2003) for a good melodrama.

What about romantic fantasies involving fantastic beings?

Guardian: The lonely and Great God(2016) A classic of the genre. It tells the story of a God who was once a man, and is being punished by immortality, unless he meets his bride, who just so happens to be a high schooler centuries later. Available on viki. 16 episodes long with 3 specials, all lasting about 75 minutes.

Hotel Del Luna (2019) it would be unfair to talk about Goblin, without talking about this other masterpiece about a being cursed into immortality and granted special availabilities along with it, but a curse is still a curse, and she must run a hotel meant for ghosts, where after centuries of being, meets a young man who is alive. Availability on Viki, 16 episodes long and each one lastz about 75 minutes.

Tale of the Nine Tailed (2020) You get to see Lee Dong Wook as another mystical being, and Kim Bum is his half brother. 16 episodes long and one special, each one lasting about 65 minutes. Available on Viki.

My roommate is a Gumiho (2021) what's up with gumihos? It's still airing. The title is self explanatory. Available on Viki and Qiyi.

Angel's last mission: Love (2019) is a cute and sad story about an angel who is about to ascend and a ballerina who has a cynical view of the world. Available on Viki. Each episode averages 30 minutes, with 32 episodes.

Doom at your service (2021) About to finish airing. It tells the story of a dying woman who wishes doom upon the world, and the doom who answers her plea. Available on viki, 16 episodes long, each one lasting about an hour.

The Scholar Who walks the night (2015) another Lee Joon Gi entry, but I swear all of his works are great, it's a period drama that tells the story of a scholar who is a vampire and the young bookseller he meets. It's 20 episodes long, each one lasting about an hour. Available on viki. Also, if you've liked Lee Soo Hyuk in Doom at Your Service, I advise you check this one out.

Tale of Arang (2012) two Lee Joon Gi entries in a row? Girl, you have to stop. Anyways, this one is another period piece of a magistrate who can see ghosts and the ghost of a young woman who doesn't remember her life, nor the cause of her death. Available on viki, it's 20 episodes long, each one lasting a little over an hour.

Look, those are fine or whatever, but I started as a K-pop fan, where can I see some idol dramas? Don't worry, I came prepared

Full House (2004) with Rain as the main character is the og idol drama in my opinion. Available on Viki. 16 episodes long, each one lasting about 73 minutes.

Imitation (2021) is currently airing, and it's literally an idol drama about idols. You can find a looot of idols too: Jeong Yun Ho and Park Seong Hwa from Ateez, Chani and Hwi Young from SF9, Park Ji Yeon from T-ara, Lim Na Young from I.O.I and Pristin, and although Jeong Ji So is not an idol, she is the main lead, and I absolutely love her, she's also in Doom at your service. Available on Viki.

Miss Panda and Mr. Hedgehog (2012) features Donghae from Super Junior, and if I'm going to recommend a Super Junior drama, I would rather recommend one featuring him over Siwon.

At a Distance the Spring is Green (2021) is currently airing too, and only has four released episodes, but I've liked it so far. Featuring Park Ji Hoon, and Kwon Dun Bin. Also, I have a lot of opinions about this show. Available on Viki.

I was going to put an IU drama but, all her dramas are good, so go and watch them all, the woman has range.

Dream High (2011) is the king of idol dramas, in my opinion. It talksa about a high school for people who want to be idols. Another one with a long line up of idols, so let me start: Suzy, IU, Taecyeon, Nichkhun and Wooyoung from 2PM, Ham Eun Jung from T-ara. Leeteuk (SuJu and Chansung (2PM) make cameos. Similarly to Imitation, Kim Soo Hyun is not an idol, but he's the main lead. It's 16 episodes long, each one lasting about 65 minutes. Available on Viki.

Wow, quite a few, but they all seem rather popular, do you have some underrated gems? I'm going to have to go down memory lane, but I do

The Queen's Classroom (2013) This one feels like a fever dream, because I'm aware it exists, I watched it back when it first aired, but I can't find it anywhere now. It's based on a Japanese drama of the same name. It's about a strict but warm hearted teacher and her students' lives and struggles. 16 episodes long. DM me if you find anywhere to watch it.

1% of Something (2016) is a really cute drama, the chemistry is off the charts, and if you're looking for skinship, this one is the one for you, underrated arranged marriage kdrama, I'm telling you. It's 16 episodes long, averaging 45 minutes, and it's on Viki.

I'm not a Robot (2017) has a really cute plot, not underrated per se, but not hyped enough. It's 32 episodes long, each one averaging 30 minutes. Available on Viki.

Do you like Brahms? (2020) is a music themed kdrama, really cute and wholesome. If you like 2setviolin and watched their critique on their YouTube channel, let me tell you, the cast actually knows how to play violin and stuff, and there's an actual child prodigy in there. It got so much hate bc of that one yt video. It's 16 episode long, each one lasting about an hour. Available on Viki.

Solomon's Perjury (2016) a good reflection on youth and the pressure society has. 12 episodes long, lasting about 63 minutes each. Available on Viki.

The Greatest Love (2011) is a super entertaining TV show, and just supper funny and cute. 16 episodes long, each one lasting around 65 minutes. Available on Viki.

Two Cops (2017) if you like Kim Seon Ho, I think this was his TV acting debut. It's a hilarious action comedy TV show. 32 episodes long, lasting around 30 minutes. Available on viki.

Do you have any recommendations where time traveling or time is central to the story?

Alice (2020) look, I can't give you a full explanation because it's too mind bending. Let's leave it at detective meets his mother. Available on Viki.

Signal (2016) The premise is similar to that of the movie Frequency (2000) in which there's communication between the past and the present via technology. The plot is based on the real Hwaseong serial murders. Really interesting. Available on Netflix. If you like the premise of communicating with the past via technology Call (2020) is a Korean thriller movie available on Netflix.

Chicago Typewriter (2017) this one is about reincarnation but we get to see both timelines. Available on Netflix.

Tomorrow with you (2017) Time-traveling but make it ✨depressing ✨. The story of a man who time travels, and how that ability messes with his marriage. Available on Netflix.

What about historical dramas? I don't really watch those, but here are some I liked

The Moon Embracing the Sun (2012) is one of the few I've finished. It's really good, it follows the love story of a king. Available on viki. 20 episodes long, each one lasting about an hour.

Gunman in Joseon (2014) Am I recommending you this one because of Lee Joon Gi? Maybe. It has 22 episodes, each one lasting about an hour. Available on Viki.

The Crowned Clown (2019) a story of the Prince and the Pauper if I must give you a description that is relatable, but if you know the book titled Skogland, it's closer to that. It's 16 episodes long, each one lasting about 80 minutes. Available on Viki.

I'm a little ashamed to say this, but do you have any BL? I do, I do

To My Star (2021) is a story about an actor and a chef, and how they learn to cohabit after the actor is forced into hiding. You can watch either the movie version or the drama version, both available on viki.

Color Rush (2020) is a modern romance fantasy about people called Monos who can't see any color unless they meet their Probes, however this may turn dangerous as the Monos may experience obsessive behavior, so what happens when a young high schooler meets his probe?. You can either watch it on its drama or movie version. Both available on viki. By the way, if you're a long time deobi and was wandering what happened to Hwall, he's one of the main leads.

You Make Me Dance (2021) follows the story of a university dancer who is in debt and his debt collector. Available on viki in both versions. The movie is 107 minutes long.

Just Friends (2009) is a short film, but ahead of its time, if you can't tell by the year it was released on. It's a cute story about a man who visits his boyfriend in the military. I found it in dramacool.

That's all from me, if you have any specific genre or them you felt I didn't add in, do feel free to tell me.

#kdrama #netflix kdrama #netflix #kdramas #kdrama recommendations #netflix recommendations #korean actor #korean actress #korean drama #idol drama #ateez #sf9 #t ara #lee joon gi #imitation #iu #at a distance spring is green #tvn doom at your service #doom at your service #my roommate is a gumiho #joy #fantasy

[writingabouteverything]

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly 

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:)) 

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever. 

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex? 

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish. 

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that. 

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again. 

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle. 

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar. 

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.  

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird. 

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.” 

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.” 

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health. 

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.” 

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have. 

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.” 

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh. 

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.” 

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.” 

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.” 

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible. 

 I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut. 

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?” 

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach. 

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.” 

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.” 

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.” 

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.” 

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected. 

“That’s it?” 

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!” 

--

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go. 

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.” 

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.” 

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?” 

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.” 

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black. 

--

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between. 

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.” 

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.” 

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.” 

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.” 

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.” 

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.” 

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.” 

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--” 

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse. 

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.” 

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.” 

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.” 

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.” 

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #jane the virgin #jane the virgin AU #lot #hslot st louis

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 12

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

BJORNHEIMR

THE WAR ROOM

“We must go now!” Arngeir insisted, planting a firm hand on the table in front of him. “Kjotve has Thora in his grasp. We cannot waste a single second while she remains bound by his chains.”

Ulfar and Styrbjorn exchanged sharp glances with each other upon hearing the jarl’s words, hesitant to go on with his plan. Both of them were standing at the war table’s sides, and pondering quietly to themselves about what to do next.

“I must admit, old friend,” Ulfar spoke up, his voice weighed down by stress, “uncertainty holds me back.”

Arngeir’s piercing gaze shifted to the raider. “We are talking about my daughter, Ulfar. I will not allow Kjotve to enslave her like a dog. If we arrive a moment too late, she will either be dead or missing. We must go now. While we still have the chance.”

“We can’t.” The other man reiterated. “...Look, Thora is like a daughter to me as well. I don’t wish to see any harm come to her, but I must also think about the rest of our clan.”

Ulfar gestured loosely to their surroundings. “Our warriors are wounded. Exhausted. A portion of them are even dead. If we go after Kjotve now, it will be a death sentence. We’ll only lose more lives, and most-likely, Thora will be killed anyways. We need to recover.”

Arngeir shook his head. “We don’t have time to recover. Once Kjotve’s ships touch the shore, he will be behind the stone walls of a fortress and surrounded by a horde of guards. Our only chance is to attack him at sea where he won’t be able to call for reinforcements.”

“Attack him with what army? The alliance has been formed, but half of Styrbjorn’s clan remains in Fornburg. And there’s no way we’ll be able to let them know of what has happened before Kjotve can return to his fortress. Our hands are tied.”

Styrbjorn offered his own suggestion. “...Our warriors could use some rest, that is true. But do not forget, Kjotve’s men are not without needs either. And after everything that happened today, I doubt they’d be expecting us to retaliate so soon. If we launch an assault now, whilst they are still worn out from the battle, perhaps we can catch them by surprise. It’s a risky tactic, but it might just give us the advantage we need to get Thora back safely.”

Ulfar considered the plan. “Perhaps... but what about--”

Cutting him off mid-sentence, a soft thud emitted from the war room’s door as a fourth man joined their conversation, bringing their discussions to a halt.

Strolling into the grim atmosphere of their meeting, Sigurd came pacing through the archway as his gaze loosely traveled from man-to-man, hastily taking in the view before him. His brow hung low with a heavy sense of sorrow, and the light in his eyes seemed to have faded -- as if his mind were wandering elsewhere.

“Ah,” Styrbjorn said upon the man’s arrival, “my son. You decided to come.”

It didn’t take long for Ulfar to notice that the prince was alone. “Eivor’s not with you?”

Sigurd walked up to the table, firmly closing the door behind him with a swift wave of the hand. “No, he’s still in the training yard. He wished to be alone for the moment.”

The raider’s face sank with concern. “I see. And how is he?”

Sigurd let out a sigh. “I won’t lie to you, Ulfar. He’s not taking it well. He was in a rather foul mood when I left him, and I imagine he’ll be that way for the rest of the day.”

“Of course. Kjotve and Eivor have a bloody history together. It’s to be expected. Give the boy time. He’ll be up on his feet soon enough.”

“I hope so,” the prince said, “but what about the plan? Do we have any idea how we’ll get Thora back?”

Arngeir summarized their discussion for him. “A few, but none that we agree on. I’d like to attack Kjotve as soon as possible. Corner him at sea before he can reach the security of his fortress. Ulfar, on the other hand, thinks we should rest for today. He wants to give our warriors time to recover.”

Sigurd turned to Styrbjorn. “And you, father?”

“As I was explaining before,” the king replied, “it’s possible we may be able to catch Kjotve off-guard if we go after him now. His warriors are just as weary as ours, and I doubt Kjotve will be expecting such an immediate response. It is a dangerous method, but there is little else I can think of when half our clan is still obliviously awaiting our return in Fornburg.”

Ulfar offered Sigurd a chance to speak. “Do you have any ideas on what we should do?”

The prince stroked his beard in thought. “...Hmm. Let me think. How fast can we send word to Fornburg?”

“If we send someone now, the soonest they can arrive will be at nightfall. And Kjotve will already be well out of our reach by then.”

Sigurd rested his palms on the war table, staring blankly at the map. “Well then, an immediate retaliation would only get us killed. If there’s any chance we can get Thora back, we must do it with the strength of both our clans.”

Ulfar nodded firmly at the sentiment. “Agreed.”

“Let’s just hope Kjotve doesn’t decide to sell Thora off to someone before we can reach her. Then, she’ll truly be lost.”

Arngeir tilted his head. “And what do you think we should do once our clans have gathered, Sigurd?”

The prince considered their options. “...We can’t launch an assault on Kjotve’s fortress. He has an entire settlement of people standing between him and the sea. If we start a raid, he’ll see us coming long before we can breach the walls. He’ll either hold Thora as a hostage, or kill her entirely.”

The jarl appeared to be at a loss. “So, what can we do then?”

Sigurd was admittedly hesitant to share his thoughts. “We could try attacking him during the night when we can hide under the darkness, or...”

Ulfar found himself intrigued. “Or what?”

“...Or we could use the settlement to our advantage.”

The raider didn’t quite follow him. “What? How do you mean?”

“The area outside of Kjotve’s fortress is teeming with people. I doubt anyone would notice if there were a few more villagers strolling about. We could send some scouts to walk among them while we bring our warriors to their shores boat by boat. That way, we avoid drawing attention with our longship.”

“And then what?”

“Our scouts pave the way. They infiltrate the fortress and open the gates. Meanwhile, the rest of us hide among Kjotve’s people, and attack once the scouts give us the signal. He’ll still see us coming, but he won’t have nearly as much time to prepare as if we were to start a raid. We’ll have the element of surprise on our side, and both our clans will be together.”

Ulfar listened intently to the prince, playing out the image in his head. “...You know what? That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. It still carries many risks, but it’s better than the other options we have.”

“Agreed.” Arngeir said. “Even though I wish to rescue Thora as soon as possible, it would be wrong of me endanger the rest of our clan when we are already so vulnerable.”

Sigurd brought a hand up to his chin. “The only question is who will be the scouts. I could go, perhaps.”

Ulfar shook his head. “No, Kjotve’s men know your face by now. They’ll recognize you from a mile away. Besides, we need you alive to keep this alliance intact. I’ll speak to the warriors in our clan; find someone who’s capable and willing.”

“As will I.” Styrbjorn said. “Our people are weakened, but they’re more eager to fight than ever after the destruction that transpired today.”

The jarl threw in a quick reminder. “Whatever you do, just make sure that Eivor and Randvi don’t get pulled into this. I know they’ll want to help, but I’m not risking the lives of anymore of my children.”

“Of course,” Ulfar complied. “We’ll keep them safe.”

“As for everyone else,” Arngeir continued, “see to it that they get plenty of rest. I don’t intend on wasting any time. We’ll put this plan into action as soon as we are able.”

“Understood.”

“Good. I’m aware that this ambush has shaken the spirits of many, but we cannot accept defeat. Not while Thora’s life is in his hands. Rest well -- all of you -- and know that whatever happens in the future, the gods are watching us. Fight hard, and fight with honor. May Odin guide you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

THAT NIGHT

EIVOR’S CHAMBERS

Eivor cradled Varin’s axe in his grip, tracing a single finger along its engravings as the moonlight kissed the surface. 

At the moment, the young man was sitting on the edge of his bed just beside the window, and gazing aimlessly into the memories that lived underneath the blade. The delicate warmth of a nearby candle sat gently on the axe’s rim, and just by touching it, Eivor felt as if he were reliving that horrible night.

Ever since he spoke with Sigurd in the training yard, he hadn’t been able to tear his mind away from the relentless fires that still razed his dreams. In spite of all his efforts to ignore it, Kjotve’s voice continued to bellow inside his skull like the tolling of a church bell, and the sight of Varin’s eyes lingered on the edges of his vision.

It was a nightmare that Eivor hoped to never revisit. For years, he thought that his second encounter with Kjotve would result in him burying an axe into the man’s chest, and yet, he had found himself on the side of defeat once again. Kjotve remained as strong as ever despite the alliance they just formed, and now, the very same woman who once saved Eivor from his wrath was trapped in his binds.

“...I’m sorry, father.” The man whispered. “I’ve failed. I had the chance to reclaim the honor that Kjotve robbed from you so long ago... and I wasted it. As far as I’m concerned, I should be in Helheim right next to you.” He plopped the axe down on the bed. “I don’t deserve to wield this.”

Eivor took a deep breath and glanced out the window, staring into the moon’s ethereal gaze. 

“I wish you and mother were still here.” He said, speaking as if Varin could hear him. “None of this feels real anymore. I’ve spent my entire life waiting for the opportunity to restore your honor, and now, I’m trapped in a battle I don’t know how to fight. Kjotve has my sister, so many in our clan are dead, and I can’t even express my love for Sigurd without straining this alliance.”

Eivor leaned against the wall, allowing his head to roll back. “...I don’t know how much longer I can do this. How long will it be until Kjotve finally falls? What will it cost? How many more years will I have to wait?” He closed his eyes in exhaustion. “...It’s all just a mess.”

He sighed deeply and drifted off into a hollow silence, only for it to be filled again when someone’s voice came seeping through the door.

“Eivor?” A man called out, knocking on the surface. “Are you in there? It’s me, Sigurd. I...” he paused for a second, “...I wanted to check on you again.”

Eivor’s head perked up at the sound of his name, and he swiftly began making his way to the door.

“Give me a moment.” He replied.

Pacing towards the other side, Eivor strode across the room and pulled the door open, feeling a sense of relief settle on his shoulders once Sigurd’s face came into view.

“There you are,” the prince said lovingly, “I hope I’m not disturbing you. I know it’s rather late.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I can’t sleep anyways. Come on in.”

Stepping off to the side, Eivor allowed Sigurd to walk in before shutting the door behind him, causing a gust of wind to flutter through the frame. The soft glow radiating from the candles flickered briefly upon its entrance, and soon after, Eivor found himself standing face-to-face with the same man he had tried so hard to avoid.

“Is everything alright, Sigurd?” The Wolf-Kissed asked, noticing his sullen expression.

The prince snapped out of his gloomy state and quirked a brow at the question, dismissing his concerns.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, Eivor. I’m fine. Things have just been... overwhelming today. But I don’t need to tell you that.” Sigurd turned to face him. “How are you? I know you said you wanted to be alone earlier, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried.”

Eivor met him in the middle of the chamber. “I don’t know. I keep thinking about Kjotve. About my parents. About you. Part of me wishes I could forget about all this and make it go away, but the other part wants to see it through. I just don’t know how.”

“Indeed. I know what you mean. We’ve been caught in an avalanche of one tragedy after another, but we’ve already come so far that... I can’t bring myself to back down. I need to ride it out.”

The young man nodded. “Exactly.”

A sudden thought crossed Sigurd’s mind. “Oh, that reminds me. I thought you should know -- we’ve devised a plan to get your sister back.”

Eivor’s eyes beamed with a glimmer of hope. “You have? What is it?”

“We’re going to send some scouts to infiltrate Kjotve’s fortress,” Sigurd explained. “They’ll open the gates for us, and we’ll hide among his people until we’re ready to strike. Your father thought it’d be best to approach this covertly in order to ensure Thora’s safety.”

“I see. And who are the scouts going to be?”

The older man shrugged. “I’m not sure who it’s going to be from your clan, but for us, Dag has volunteered himself.”

Eivor couldn’t hide the surprise in his tone. “Dag? Really? He never struck me as the type to be discreet.”

“Me neither, but my father seems to trust him to get the job done. And despite the rift that has recently formed between us, I must admit that Dag is a skilled warrior. I only hope he doesn’t get caught while on the inside. I still care about him, even if he’s been distant lately.”

Eivor thought back to the prince’s troubled mood. “Is that why you were worried when you walked in? I know you came here for me, but still. You must have a lot on your mind.”

“No,” he denied, “I... I was preoccupied with something else.”

The young man suddenly felt himself growing concerned. The softness had vanished entirely from Sigurd’s voice, and a touch of suspicion had taken its place.

“What is it then?” Eivor asked, wary to hear the answer. “Has something else happened?”

Sigurd crossed his arms in nervousness, checking for the shadows of anyone who might’ve been lurking outside the door.

“...Earlier today, just after the battle ended, Ulfar and I had a short conversation. We were talking about the nature of the attack, and he found it odd that Kjotve’s men managed to overwhelm us so easily. Even though we spent weeks planning the village’s defenses.”

Eivor saw reason in his claims. “That did seem odd, I agree. Right before the ambush started, Ulfar told me that Eirik was keeping an eye on a longship in the distance. Then, just after a few minutes, he was dead.”

Sigurd furrowed his brows in a troubled manner. “Then that only lends more merit to my worries.”

“How do you mean?”

The prince dug up an older memory. “Do you remember when I told you about my vision? With the wolf?”

“Yes,” Eivor said. “You spoke with Ingrida about it, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I did. And she believed it was a warning for a betrayal. I wasn’t willing to accept it at first, but after today’s events... it’s the only explanation I can think of. How else would Kjotve’s men have been able to get around our defenses so easily? And how else would they have managed to silence Eirik before he could warn anyone?”

“Gods...” the younger man sighed. “Do you have any idea who it could be?”

Sigurd’s nose crinkled in skepticism. “I have my suspicions, but no evidence to support them just yet. I only pray I’m not right.”

Eivor couldn’t hold back his curiosity. “Care to share your thoughts?”

The redheaded viking chewed on his bottom lip, undeniably afraid to see his friend’s reaction. “...As of right now, the two people I suspect the most are Dag and Ulfar.”

The prince’s distrust towards Dag didn’t faze Eivor, but the accusation against the latter shocked him.

“Ulfar?” He repeated. “No, he wouldn’t-- why do you think it’s him?”

Sigurd frowned out of pity. “I’m sorry, Eivor. I know he’s like a father to you, but during our time together, I’ve noticed that he bears the same mark I have upon my own neck. And if Ingrida’s predictions are to be believed, then the mark signifies some sort of connection between me and Tyr. Which, if Ulfar really is the traitor, can only mean that he must be connected to Fenrir.”

Eivor quickly saw the correlation in Ulfar’s name. “...The wolf.”

“Exactly. He hasn’t done anything to earn my scrutiny just yet, but Ingrida’s words continue to linger in the back of my mind nonetheless. All I’m saying is -- keep an eye on him. If there truly is a traitor among us, I don’t like the idea of attacking Kjotve’s fortress with a snake slithering in the grass.”

The other man placed his hands on his hips, reluctant to agree with him. “...A-Alright, Sigurd. I’ll do what I can to help, but you understand if this is difficult for me to come to terms with.”

“Of course. I don’t think Ulfar is the traitor yet, but we’ll let the evidence speak for itself should it arise. In the meantime, stay vigilant, Eivor. I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

“The same goes for you, love. I--” Eivor caught the rest of his words before they could escape his throat, mentally cursing himself for allowing his affections to run free again. 

“Damn it,” he muttered, “Sigurd, I didn’t--”

“--It’s okay.” The prince replied, contrary to what the younger man was expecting.

“What?”

Sigurd shrugged, glancing around the room. “No one can hear us anyways.”

That didn’t erase any of Eivor’s fears. “Well, yes, but still. We shouldn’t be addressing each other that way.”

His companion sighed deeply, clearly sick of battling against his true emotions. “I know we shouldn’t, but let’s be honest, Eivor -- this isn’t helping anything. We couldn’t stay apart before the wedding, and even now, we’re struggling to keep things platonic. I told Ulfar I wouldn’t get any closer to you, but... I was a fool to make such a promise.”

Eivor picked up on his tone. “What are you trying to say?”

Sigurd shook his head in frustration. “I... I don’t know. I’m just as torn as you are. But if we keep pretending like there’s nothing between us, things are only going to get worse.”

“So what do we do?”

The prince’s gaze fell to the floor in heartache. “...We can’t do anything. That’s the problem. I’m a married man now. It wouldn’t be right for me to go behind Randvi’s back. It would be committing adultery.” He brought his focus back to Eivor and lifted his tone a bit, peering at him as if he were trying to find solace in his presence. 

“But... at the very least, allow me to do this. We may not be able to be together like before, but perhaps it will help ease some of the pain.”

Sigurd closed the distance between them and placed a gentle kiss on Eivor’s forehead, combing the man’s hair in a comforting motion. He let the other man’s head nestle itself just underneath his chin, and wrapped his arms securely around the distraught viking’s waist.

“I’m sorry it has to be like this,” the prince whispered. “I wish I could embrace you openly -- away from the shadows -- but you know how complicated things are.”

Eivor welcomed his lover’s touch, resting calmly on his broad physique. “I understand.”

The older man displayed a faint smile. “You always do. That’s what makes you such a gift.”

Much to the Wolf-Kissed’s dismay, Sigurd separated the hug and took a few steps back, finally ready to take his leave.

“Don’t cast your hope away just yet, Eivor. We’re caught in the middle of a storm, but there will come a day when we see the clouds break.”

The blonde warrior clenched his jaw, attempting to hide the sorrow building up in his chest. His struggles vanished for a moment thanks to the warmth of Sigurd’s kiss, but had only grown twice as worse now that he was free from his grasp again.

“I hope you’re right.” He replied quietly.

The prince walked past Eivor and placed a hand on the door’s wooden surface, preparing to say goodbye for the night.

“Stay safe, my dear. It won’t be too long before we’re charging into battle against Kjotve’s clan. If anything happened to you, I...” Sigurd cleared his throat, hastily pushing the horrid thought to the side, “...well, let’s save those concerns for another day. Just focus on getting some rest now. You’ve earned it.”

He turned back towards the door with a downcast look in his eyes, bidding his lover farewell.

“Goodbye, Eivor.”

The younger man stayed behind and stood alone in the darkness, watching Sigurd as shadows began to envelop his chambers. He could feel a thin layer of tears starting to gloss over his vision, and without anyone there to embrace him anymore, the lifeless chill of the night’s breeze only seemed to dig deeper into his skin.

“...Goodbye, Sigurd. May the gods protect you from the chaos that sheathes us.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #sigurd styrbjornson #eivor wolfkissed #eivor wolfsmal #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hi steph, I hope you enjoyed your break and are looking after yourself! if you’re back and feeling up to it, I was wondering if you knew of any affectionate sherlock fics or ones where john calls him pet names? just that lovey dovey vibe w a cuddly sherlock :) again, thank you for everything you do ❤️

HI LOVELY!!!

AHHHH You are in luck!!! I actually have a Pt Two list that I’ve been just WAITING for someone to ask for, LOL. I hope you enjoy what I have for you today!!!! And as always, add your own fics, my lovelies!! <3

PET NAMES Pt. 2 

See also: Pet Names Pt 1

“My / His John” / “My / His Doctor”

New World, Old Words by thedeafwriter (G, 641 w., 1 Ch. || Deaf Sherlock, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Fluff, Always John) – It was disconcerting to experience. One second, he was laying on the table, breathing in the gas that would make him sleep, the next, he was dragging his eyes open to look around the bright room, trying to wake up.

Possessive by Fang323 (T, 850 w., 1 Ch. || John Whump, Hospitalization, Possessive / Protective Sherlock, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort) – His John did not belong. Not here. Not in this blasted hospital. It simply was not logical.

Concussions And Good Old Fashioned Awkwardness by Belldere (K+, 894 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Hospitals, Mild John Whump, Misunderstandings, Platonic Relationship, Concussions, Not-Gay John, Possessive Sherlock) – When John lands himself in hospital... again, all he wants is to just get out of there as soon as possible, too bad his doctor has other ideas about where John may be getting his injuries. Good thing concussions make everything strangely funnier.

Burn Burn by Jenn1984 (K+, 925 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG, Angst, Worried / Panicked / Possessive Sherlock) – A week after the events of "The Great Game", Sherlock returns to 221B Baker Street to find it empty.

Loved. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 1,231 w., 1 Ch. || First Sherlock POV, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nose Kisses, Morning After, Love Confessions, Morning Cuddles, Emotional Sherlock, Sentiment, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock reflects on his relationship with John. Part 5 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Lost and Found by jaradel (G, 1,750 w., 1 Ch. || Post-HLV, John Whump, Est. Rel., Hurt/Comfort) – He's honestly not sure what's worse, right now - being where he is, the beaten kidnap victim, or being where Sherlock is, trying to rescue him before it's too late. Unwillingly his mind offers up the image of Sherlock in a video message, tied to a chair, bruised and bloodied. John squeezes his eyes shut to hold back tears. No, he decides. That would be so much worse.

The Video Footage by bitchinblackframedglasses (K, 1,894 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, Fluff, ASiB Missing Scene) – What exactly DID Lestrade film Sherlock doing in A Scandal in Belgravia? Sherlock wants to know, and John tells him.

Husband by jinglebell (E, 2,003 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., PWP, Anal, Multiple Orgasms, Fluff) – Sherlock orgasms when John refers to him as 'husband'.

Sherlock Holmes and the Mysterious Piercing by Lorelei_Lee (E, 4,130 w., 1 Ch. || Travelling, Sherlock is Loud, Secrets, Genital Piercing, First Time, Licking, Coming Nearly Untouched) – John discovers by chance that Sherlock has a piercing. To his surprise John can't stop thinking about it...

The Oolong Disaster by unicornpoe (T, 4,151 w., 1 Ch. || John’s Beard, Fluff, Humour, Frustrated Sherlock, John Takes Care of Sherlock, Case Fic-ish, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Possessive Sherlock) – John has a beard. Sherlock has a panic attack.

The Haunting of 221B Baker Street by earlgreytea68 (M, 10,388 w., 2 Ch. || Post TRF, Halloween / Ghosts, Pining Sherlock, Ghost Sherlock, Stroppy Sherlock, Sherlock POV, First Kiss/Time, Angry Sex, Ghost Sex, Love Confessions, Open / Ambiguous Ending) – In which Sherlock Holmes is a ghost.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

Turn Left at the Park by Glenmore (NR (E), 37,409 w., 28 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting / ASiP Divergence, Case Fic, Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Loneliness, No Mary, Possessive Sherlock, Fluff & Angst, Nightmares/PTSD, Sherlock Saves John, Sherlock Whump-ish, Doctor John) – So what would have happened if John hadn't walked through the park and met Stamford?What if, instead, he walked around the park and just went home?

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways, Needy Sherlock, Wings) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w., 12 Ch. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

“Love” / “My Sherlock”

I Knew You Loved Me by inevitably_johnlocked (T, 743 w., 1 Ch. || Morning Cuddles, Fluff, Clingy Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slice of Life, Morning After, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Declarations of Love, Pet Name, Bed Sharing, Snuggles) – John and Sherlock share a lie-in the morning after their first time. So fluffy and gross your teeth will fall out. Part 4 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Hell or High water by bluefire301175 (E, 2,250 w. || PWP, Frottage, Alley Sex, First Person POV John, Case-ish Fic, Mutual Pining, Bed Sharing) – John wants. Sherlock wants. Plain and simple.

A Study in Lace by KarlyAnne (E, 2,320 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Crafty Sherlock, Tiny Lace Panties / Lingerie, Domestics, Experiments, Oral, Masturbation) – “Why do you suppose he was doing that?” “Why do I suppose who was doing what?” “The room. The lace. The secrecy. He was playing with fire in everything he did, and didn’t care one bit. But he had a secret chamber, carefully concealed, solely for the purpose of making lace lingerie. Obviously for personal use. Why?" Part 1 of The Unintentional Crafts of Sherlock Holmes

Tell Me a Secret, Sherlock Holmes. by DaringlyDomestic (NR, 3,880 w., 2 Ch. || Love Confessions, Truth or Dare, Smut, Gentle Explicit Love, Microscopic Angst) – John's voice is low and seductive, sending a shiver of want crackling through his stomach. Sherlock's heart beats frantically against his ribcage, and his breathing grows fast as he feels John's lips flutter against the sensitive skin of his neck. The kiss, if it could really be called that, is so quick and so light that Sherlock is almost convinced he had imagined it. Part 9 of Tumblr Drabble Challenge

Applied Linguistics by what_alchemy (M, 4,837 w., 1 Ch. || Possessive / Anxious Sherlock, Introspection, Bed Sharing, Past John Whump, Est. Rel., Marriage Proposal, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Word Play) – “He wants to shake John by the shoulders, wants to open his mouth and swallow John whole. Wants to marry him.” Sherlock searches for the right words.

My First, My Only, and My Forever by vintagelilacs (E, 6,220 w., 1 Ch. || Post-ASiB, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Bum, John’s Scar, Sherlock POV, Body Worship, Fingering, Bottomlock, Promise of Forever / Proposals, Misunderstanding, First Kiss/Time, Loss of Virginity, Virginity Kink, Seduction) – Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He was missing a vital piece of data, he was sure. John had been looking at him oddly ever since they left Buckingham Palace, and the ensuing incident with Irene Adler had only exacerbated his erratic behaviour. What was it? Why would he care that Sherlock was a virgin? There was nothing reminiscent of mockery or pity in his gaze. And then it hit him. John Watson was aroused.

Talk by illwick (E, 6,364 w., 1 Ch. || Dirty Talk, John’s Giant Junk, PWP, Light BDSM, Size Kink, Oral / Anal, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Rel., John Calls Sherlock Love) – Sherlock was never much for dirty talk... until an unexpected visit yields unexpected results. Part 20 of Unwind

Survival Instinct by shirleyholmes (T, 7,162 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Kiss, Schmoop, Nightmares, Fluff & Angst, Grief, Idiots in Love) – After Sherlock's "comeback" John starts obsessing with constantly making sure he's alive (checking his heartbeat etc.)

Of Razors, Pipes, Red Notebooks and Rugby Jerseys, Or: Sherlock Doesn't Like His Doctors Clean Shaven by allonsys_girl (E, 7,313 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., PWP / Porn With Feelings, John’s Beard / Beard Kink, Roleplay, Love Declarations, Banter, Rimming, Anal, Domestic Fluff / Bliss, Idiots in Love, Emotional Lovemaking, Pet Names, Obsessive Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Bottomlock, Cranky Sherlock) – John grows a beard. Sherlock really likes it. Part 1 of Consulting Husbands

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names, Panic Attack) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost...magical.

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways, Needy Sherlock, Wings) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w., 12 Ch. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Background Case Fic) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || Alternate Future AU || , Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

OTHER PET NAMES

A Christmas Holiday by consultinggalpals (sansa_undergrind) (G, 1,076 w., 1 Ch. || Tooth Rotting Fluff, Christmas, Honeymoon) – "Come on, Sherlock. Just take the picture already.”

Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2,799 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Sherlock/Sally Friendship, Grumpy John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pet Names, Texting, Sweet Sherlock, Princess Bride References) – John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can't find words big enough to thank her for saving John's life at the warehouse. For afters, there's a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of the Unkissed series

Pillow Talk by scullyseviltwin (M, 5,183 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Angsty Fluff, PIllow Talk, Bed Sharing, Worried John, First Time Morning After, Soft Sherlock, Sexuality Discussion, Love Confessions, Kisses and Cuddles) – John has been looking at Sherlock for ages, it feels like.

One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w., 12 Ch. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #pet names #my fic recs #my john #effortlesslie #long post #e-rated fics

[elles-writing]

Enchanted forest - young!Thranduil x reader  - Day 12

Enchanted forest

Pairing: Thranduil x reader

Warnings/triggers:  -

Genre: kinda fluff?

Word: Enchanted forest – Day 12/13

Word count: 2740

A/N:  Maybe part 2? Also, I’m not really feeling the best rn, so I will quickly edit this and post it. (I was too tired to post it yesterday, so I’m posting it today. I wanted it to be more poetic, but I don’t know.)

Tags: @dumbassunderthemountain​ @artsywaterlily​ @moony-artnstuff​ @claraofthepen​ @trxblemaker​

Message me if you want to be added/removed from taglist.

Ever since Thranduil was a child, there was something, that drawned him to Mirkwood forest. It wasn’t the danger, of course. He was surrounded by guards all the time so he was safe, being the only child and in the line for the throne.

Which also meant a lot of duties.

But every single night, he would look out of window to the darkness of the forest. He already tried to find out what it was. The palace was a safe place. Nobody would just walk in there by themselves, and Mirkwood didn’t affected anyone in this kingdom.

One night, he couldn’t sleep. He was tossing in his bed and many thoughts  were running through his head. A few hours before, his father, Oropher, tried to talk to him about a marriage. Thranduil knew it was something that would come up sooner or later, but it still made his blood boiling. He was talking to some elven princesses of other realms, but he still felt too young for courting or a marriage.

After another sleepless hour, he decided to get up. The moonlight was stronger today – it was a full moon – so he would perhaps read for a while.

He took one of his books he had on his desk, and sat down, next to one of those big windows he had in his chambers. He looked out and let his thoughts to run through his head. He didn’t tried to catch any of them and think of it more, he just let them to slip away, and perhaps come back. It gave him some peace and helped him to clear his head a bit.

Suddenly, he noticed a movement outside in the dark. His eyes narrowed. It wasn’t a spider, this creature was smaller. It wasn’t an elf, because it wasn’t graceful at all. He narrowed his eyes.

A human.

He didn’t knew why, but quickly got up, book being forgotten. He quickly took his bow and arrows and his sword, then soundlessly moving as a cat, through the shadows of halls of his home. He knew his father was asleep at this time of the night, so he couldn’t stop him.

Once he made it outside of the gates, sneaking out, he noticed the human. He stayed in the shadows, through he was much closer than before. He was studying the human and his eyes widened.

A human woman, whom made it to the palace? What a strange thing, he softly scoffed. He didn’t trusted easily, and this was much more suspicious, though he felt a need to come closer and find out who she was.

You remembered going to the forest for a walk, when it was getting darker. You wanted to turn around and go back, but it felt like the forest was alive and your path was nowhere to be seen. You walked futher, hoping you’d find a way out.

You didn’t knew how much time passed, perhaps a few hours. Your legs were aching, your mind was tired and hazy and the only light was sky with stars. Soon after, the trees became so thick you couldn’t see almost anything, only a few feet ahead. Every sound was scaring you, you were tired, hungry and thirsty. It felt like the forest was endless.

Finally, you noticed a blue lights. You came closer to them, feeling warmth radiating from them. You shivered in fear, but also a cold. When did the forest became so cold, in the middle of summer?

You had no idea

Your mind was telling you to reach to them and touch them, you didn’t realized that the forest was playing with your mind. Once you touched the light by the tips of your fingers, you hissed. A strange pain and hot waves shot through your body and you fell down. You silently cursed yourself for touching it.

Your body was tingling, nothing else, so you got up and decided to walk futher. Your legs suddenly didn’t hurted, your steps became lighter and quicker, somehow. You didn’t even realized that, though. You were deep in the forest. There was only way - through, as way back was lost hours before.

After another few hours you stepped near some huge castle. You couldn’t believe it and let out a silent cry. Finally, a place where you could ask for help, and maybe they would let you to rest for a while.

Slowly, an uncomfortable feeling was creeping through your whole body. Something, or someone, was watching you. You looked around, trying to figure out the direction. It was still dark, but the castle had some lights on a different places. Small fires, to be exact. It reminded you of a fairies from legends.

Thranduil was watching her. Her clothes didn’t looked like anything he knew, and she seemed to be curiously looking over the castle. She had no weapons, as much as he could see. He narrowed his blue eyes. Suspicious. He decided to step out, bow and arrow prepared. Even if she would try anything, he would be quicker. He worked hard for many years, and used his natural abilities of being quick and swift. As a warrior, he was surely not one to be messed up with.

„What is a human doing in Mirkwood?“ He said, still in shadows. The woman turned around quickly and rose her hands.

„I-I’m sorry, I got lost in a forest...I’ve been lost for hours-“ She said. The young prince wasn’t really into too many adventures, he was rather serious. But there was something about this woman...

The next thing he knew was that he was picking her up and yelling to get a healer. She fell apart, her skin was cold and her breathing soft. He runned through the corridors, the guards looking after him.

Once he placed the woman to the bed, he felt the need to stay near her. When the healer arrived, he stood to the corner and his icy eyes were wondering back to her face, again and again. She was beautiful. She looks like a fairy, he thought.

Then, one of his father’s guards stepped in, nodding at him to go with him. Thranduil quickly looked at the woman. Her cheeks had a slight blush, and a slight warm feeling warmed him inside.

Once he stepped to the throne room, he knew there was something wrong. His father was turned by his back to him and all the guards left. It was only Thranduil and Oropher. Not like a prince and a king. Like a father and a son.

There was a moment of silence. Oropher was more temperament than Thranduil, and so he couldn’t hide his emotions the way Thranduil could. The young prince sensed a bit of anger and surprise in the air, his father was surely trying to hold his emotions back from bursting out. He was maybe waiting for Thranduil to say something, but he didn’t dared to say anything. No. Just not yet.

The king took a deep breath.

„I hope that you understand what you just did.“ Thranduil nodded, though Oropher couldn’t see him.

„You just woke up the whole castle, son. Why was that?“ Now was Thranduil a bit surprised. He thought the guards told his father what happened.

„There was a woman, Ada,“ Thranduil started carefully.

„She fell apart, so I took her inside. She had no weapons and she was weak.“ Oropher turned to him and studied his son for a while.

„Was she a human?“ Thranduil opened his mouth to answer, when a soud of knock on the door appeared in the throne room.

„Come in,“ Oropher said. A guard and healer came in.

„My king,“ Both of them bowed. The healer looked at Thranduil, nervous.

„The woman has woken up,“ She said. „she was asking for the man who helped her.“ Thranduil looked at Oropher, who seemed to be thinking about it.

„I will go with you, my son.“ He said.

When you woke up, you realized you were warm. You tried to move, but someone pushed you softly back.

„You need rest,“ You’ve overheard a voice. You frowned. This voice was too soft, it didn’t sounded much like human’s voice...

You opened your eyes and noticed a woman, who was folding some clothes. You noticed her ears, with sharp ends, soft long hair and delicate movements while folding the clothes. Your mind was hazy, but it wasn’t like back in the forest. This was a haziness from medication. You closed your eyes and drifted back to sleep.

In a while, you woke up again, from a nightmare this time. The woman was looking at you, concerned.

„Please, I need him, I need to-that blonde man, blue eyes, I-“ You tried to catch your breath and calm down. She handed you a glass with some liquid, smelling like herbs.

„Drink this, this will help you to calm down,“ You were carefully sipping it. It tasted sweet, like honey. Soon, you closed your eyes to slumber, once again.

When Thranduil stepped in, he went closer, to take a look at her. He didn’t knew who this woman was, where did she came from and all of that, but he knew he wanted to stay close to her. To protect her.

She seemed to be asleep. She looked calm and in peace. Thranduil looked for any injury, but didn’t found any. He noticed her ears though – they had a sharp edges, her skin was soft and delicate, her hair seemed to be soft too. She’s an elf, he thought.

Oropher looked down at her, too. He raised a brow.

„So a human woman, you said?“

„I probably didn’t noticed. It was dark.“

You started waking up from your slumber, hearing two male voices. One of them said something like ‚Leave us alone,‘.

You blinked your eyes, trying to recognize his face. He leaned a bit forward, carefully. You could tell he was ready to pull away, but there was also something gentle about his moves.

„Where-where am I?“ You whispered. Your whole body was aching, your ears were itchy for some reason, and you wanted to eat something.

„In Mirkwood palace...my lady,“ He said, carefully picking words.

„Oh, I’m Y/N, there’s no need to call me a lady,“ You said, blinking as your vision cleared. You gasped. He was beautiful. His long blonde hair, blue eyes, delicate features...

„Are you alright, lady Y/N? Should I call for the healer?“ He asked. You looked away and blushed.

„Uh, no, just...would you help me to sit up? Please?“ His arm slid on your back and helped you to sit up. You felt sudden cold on your skin and covered yourself more with the blanket. You looked down. You were in your underwear, and your cheeks burned red. You looked up and realized he did the same.

„I, uhm...who are you?“ You asked. He looked firmly to your eyes, not sliding down.

„I’m Thranduil, the prince of Mirkwood,“ He kissed your hand. You felt a warm feeling inside of your body. Little did you knew he felt the same thing.

A few strands of your hair slided down to your face and you quickly placed them behind your ear. Wait, you frowned. You touched your ear again. It was pointy. You shook your head.

„No...no, this cannot...this can’t be...“ Thranduil looked at you, concerned.

„Would you hand me a mirror, please?“ You asked. He handed you a small mirror and you looked into it. Your jaw fell down.

You were an elf.

You looked closely at your skin, soft, perfect skin, soft lips, delicate features, shiny hair and pointy ears. You looked up on Thranduil.

„I-I’m an elf? What happened?“ Now it was him who was confused. „What else should you be, my lady?“ You looked back at yourself. Your face looked familiar, but strange at the same time.

„What if we would take a walk, and explain to each other what happened? I’m sure that fresh air and some food will make you feel better,“ He offered. You slowly nodded and nervously smiled.

„Oh, I would like that very much,“ Thranduil nodded and placed the mirror on it’s place.

„Would you like to rest, or to go right now, lady Y/N?“ He asked, blue eyes questioning. Though you were still in shock, you nodded. If there will be some food and fresh air, it could actually only help you.

„I would like to go now, thank you. I need to put on some clothes, though,“ You said and the prince handed you a few folded pieces of clothing.

„I will wait outside, my lady,“ He said and left you alone. Once he was outside, he let out a breath. He never felt like this towards a woman. What was that warm feeling spreading inside, whenever she smiled? Oh, her beautiful name, Y/N. That sounded like a name of a fairy! Wait...he frowned...was this...how does love feels like? He didn’t knew what to do. He won’t go to his father, because he knew him way too well, and he would say something like „Oh, my boy has grown up!“ And celebrate it as his own personal accomplishment.

Making it more awkward than it was supposed to be, as always.

You looked through the clothes, finding a two long shirts, trousers, a dress and another dress. One of them were simple dark green, the other dress were in lavander colour, tiny golden leaves embroidered around the waist and little silver stars and golden moon crescents around the edges of elbow-length sleeves. You decided to put on these.

You found a brush here and brushed your hair quickly. Then you carefully opened the door, revealing yourself to the prince. Your cheeks were dusted by rosy blush, as his eyes widened at the sight of you. In his eyes, you were stunning.

Since then, after you told the prince and the king what happened to you, they let you to stay, since you didn’t knew where else to go. You and Thranduil got closer over time, sharing the same favourite places around the palace and in the garden.

One day, you’ve been sitting in the garned, under your favourite tree. You were reading a book, while Thranduil was pacing around, clearly nervous about something. You softly smiled.

„What’s bothering you, mellon?“ He looked at you and quickly looked away. You frowned, closed your book and stood up. They would teach you elvish customs and all of that you didn’t knew, Elvish too.

„Mellon,“ you looked deep to his icy blue eyes and felt familiar butterflies in your stomach. He sighed.

„Amin mella le, melamin,“ He whispered with serious expression, one of his hands softly cupping your cheek. You smiled.

„You know I don’t speak that well Elvish. What does it mean?“ He took a deep breath.

„I love you,“ He said. He was about to go away, but you gently took his hand.

„Amin mella le, melamin.“ You tried to repeat. He turned to you, surprised. You just nodded, nervous, with a smile. A smile appeared on his face, too.

„Will you allow me to court you then, Y/N?“ You nodded and you both sat back to the grass, Thranduil carefully braiding your hair. You did the same, though it wasn’t an elvish courting braid at all, but a braid it was.

Now, you had to tell Oropher, somehow. Thranduil was more reserved to people he didn’t knew, Oropher was more temperament. Sometimes you overheard their arguments, which could get loud.

You were sitting at the dinner, Thranduil trying to figure out how to approach the subject, when Oropher noticed his hair.

„My son...so you and lady Y/N are finally courting?“ You and Thranduil choked on your meal.

„Well, yes father, we are,“ Thranduil said. Oropher smiled. The alcohol from wine he was drinking was kicking in.

„About time, my son. I’ve seen you looking at her ever since you’ve been showing her around. Let me arrange your wedding,“ He said and sipped on his wine again.

„We don’t want to rush anything,“ You said carefully, placing your hand on Thranduil’s to help him relax a bit.

„Oh, that’s a good statement too, lady Y/N. Good things take time,“ He said. You noticed Thranduil’s face, blushing. You pecked his cheek and didn’t let of his hand until the end of the dinner. He seemed to be glad.

#13daysofspookywritingevent #thranduil x reader #thranduil #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #mirkwood #elf reader

[midnightsvns]

Now I see daylight — a Twilight fanfic

summary: Edward spent his life so long in a ninety-year midnight. Now, all he sees is daylight. A short story about Nessie’s first prom. “How could I ever tell her how grateful I was? Grateful that she could always see past the worst of me and my mistakes. Grateful that she had unlimited selflessness, giving us the family I’d envisioned for her, but thought impossible for me. Grateful that she was all too happy to be the first and only love of my existence. Grateful that cruel fate, after our various ordeals, had turned merciful to bring us to this heaven.” words: 8,280.

AN: so. i was absolutely wrecked after reading the very sad note on which midnight sun ended. to lick my wounds, i wrote this fic, set 12 years after breaking dawn, on the day of nessie’s prom. 404 plot not found just fluff of edward & bella being happy with their now adult daughter. title/summary inspired by the t.s. song daylight. full text under the cut!

Bella and I walked with hands intertwined in the woods behind our house, on our way to the cottage a few miles away that served as our daughter Renesmee’s “room.” When she turned seven, we decided she deserved a space of her own, a space that was removed from her supernatural family who could hear every move she made even if she had a whole floor of the house to herself. It was not unlike the first cottage the three of us had lived in together, back in Forks, in the first year of Bella and I’s marriage. To me, those days seemed as close as yesterday—in reality, twelve years had passed like the blink of an eye. Our daughter was all grown-up now, about to graduate high school for the first time, and today was her very first prom.

We walked at human pace, enjoying the lights and the sounds of early morning in the forest. Before Bella, I would have hated moving at such a glacial pace, always wanting to reach my destination as fast as possible, never lingering under the sunlight long enough to contemplate the diamond-like sparkling of my marble skin. A constant reminder of my inhumanity. But now I relished having the chance to see my wife in the light of day. I knew that all the poets and philosophers who, for two thousand of years, had tried to define beauty, to describe it, had irrevocably failed—because none of them had been fortunate enough to witness Bella smiling and shining under the golden rays of sunlight. I squeezed her hand and chuckled to myself.

Bella, of course, noticed my jocularity. “What are you thinking about?” she wondered.

“I thought that was my line,” I replied, grinning at her. Bella easily controlled her gift now, raising and lowering her mental shields at will. Except in special moments of communication, her shields were always up. She could maintain shields around other people, too, granting peace for me and privacy for my family. The quiet that resulted inside my head was a balm; I could be thankful for it for a hundred years and it would not be enough.

She sighed, and her eyes were suddenly downcast. “Well, I’m glad one of us is cheerful enough to laugh today.” She stopped walking, let go of my hand, and sought shelter under the shadow of a large evergreen tree. I regretted seeing her move away from the sunshine.

Her mournful tone surprised me. “What’s wrong, love? You’ve been looking forward to Renesmee’s prom for weeks now.” It was all I heard the ladies at the house discussing as of late. Alice, our very own literal visionary, was making all their dresses, works of art that were sure to rival even the most revered of Paris’ haute couture scene. Rosalie was browsing our family’s sizable collection of jewelry—composed of heirlooms from our human lives and the very many anniversary gifts from over the decades—for the perfect sets of accessories that would go with Alice’s creations. Esme was renovating and redecorating the front room, the staircase, and the porch, in preparation for today’s sure-to-be endless photo opportunities.

Bella looked up at me, her golden eyes looking regretful. “I just… can’t help but be a little sad that she’s grown up so fast. She’s only twelve, Edward. I spent more time as a clumsy, awkward human child than I’ve spent as her mother,” Bella said, sighing again. “And now she’s graduating and going off to college for the first time? She’s not an adult! How are we even sure she’s fit to be by herself in the human world already? How is she gonna eat? How will she hunt? What if she needs us, or she gets hurt and Carlisle can’t get to her in time? She can’t just go to a human doctor!” Her voice got more and more agitated with every worry she voiced. “And what if she starts dating? And she doesn’t tell us because we’re not there?! She says she’s not interested in anyone romantically now, boys or otherwise, but it’s her first four years in college! She’s bound to catch the sights of some… some no-good jerk who—”

“Stop, Bella,” I said gently, interrupting her before she could spiral any further. I had to resist the urge to laugh at her tirade. It reminded me of the time I went on a very similar, equally anxious rant. Emmett had thought I was a crazy person, worrying about the myriad things that could wipe the human girl I loved out of existence. This time, though, these worries were much easier for me to assuage than when I was fretting over Bella’s mortality and her uncanny ability to attract danger.

I joined her under the cover of the tree and held her marble face in my hands. “Love, I understand wholly all of your anxieties. They’re mine, too. But we need to put a significant amount of trust and faith in our daughter if we want to stay sane during the next four years,” I said earnestly, cracking a little smile, and then started addressing Bella’s concerns one at a time.

“I’m also sad that it has been just twelve short years, and already, we have to let her go. And as much as we may not like it, she is an adult now. She has been for five years. I know she grew up too fast, but if that is the small sacrifice that makes the miracle of her existence possible, then so be it. And she’s had no problems being around humans since she started high school with us when she was eight. As for her eating habits, well, I am worried about the amount of junk food she’ll consume once she is left unsupervised. And she doesn’t need to hunt as frequently as we do…. Once, maybe twice, a month, she can come back here and any one of us would love to go hunting with her. She is also not so fragile that she would ever need the care of any other doctors than Carlisle, Rosalie, or me. As for her first romantic relationship, well... she’s smart, strong-willed. We have to trust that we have raised her well enough that she’ll be responsible, that she’ll know how to protect her heart, and that she’ll be comfortable enough to turn to us for any questions she might have. You are a good mother, Bella. You raised an amazing young woman.” She looked as though she was about to argue, but she said nothing. She must have lowered her shield because I heard her thoughts instead: We raised an amazing young woman. You, Carlisle, Esme, Rose, Alice, Emmett, and Jasper… Even Charlie, Sue, Jacob, and Seth. It really does take a village. Her smile was wry.

I shook my head and smiled back at her. She was still bad at taking compliments. “We just have to trust Ness, love. As much as I would never want to see her hurt, we have to let her make her own mistakes. To let her take risks. And we have to give her freedom while she still thinks it’s ours to grant. If she thinks she’s not ready for this yet, or becomes overwhelmed in any way, she knows she can come back home at any time. All we can do is be there for her, and as long as she knows she’s not alone in this, that she never has to carry the world on her shoulders because we’re supposed to carry part of it for her… She will be fine.”

I looked straight into my wife’s eyes, still holding her face, hoping I had eased her anxieties a little. She visibly relaxed, then placed her hands over mine.

“You know, I really hate it when you make sense,” Bella stated matter-of-factly, glaring at me and pouting a little. I laughed and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. Then I pulled her close to my side and led us back on the way to Renesmee’s cottage. If, thirteen years ago, anyone—even Alice—had told me that someday I would be trying to soothe Bella after a bout of anxiety instead of the other way around, I would have laughed in their face.

We made it to the cottage in companionable silence, and Bella’s mood seemed cheerier than before, back to being excited for the day’s events. She knocked on the door, calling for Nessie to wake up, but our daughter opened the door in a flash, greeting us with a chipper hello and a wave to indicate that we should let ourselves in.

“Good morning, Ness. You’re up early,” I commented. Not that our daughter was a late sleeper, but she was also not what one would call a morning person.

“I’m very well-rested, thank you,” she said, walking to the couch in the middle of the cottage’s main living area and plopping down onto it.

“How many hours did you sleep last night?” I asked, suspicious. Half-human, half-vampire hybrid though she was, Carlisle’s recommendation was still at least seven hours of sleep a night, and she often ignored it.

“Seven,” she replied too fast. I raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, six. Maybe five total…” she grimaced, sheepish now. “I was reading books! And I finished a movie.” I was unhappy to hear it. We really didn’t have an exact number of how many hours of sleep she needed each night, but I was sure five wasn’t enough for anyone, human or otherwise. I shook my head and sat next to her on the couch.

The cottage was a cozy place, with a kitchenette in the main room, one bedroom and a small bathroom down a narrow hallway. The main area was where Nessie spent most of her time, a rectangular room with big windows that let in a generous amount of natural light. The wide wall in front of the couch served as the canvas for a mural of the turquoise sea and white-sand beach at Isle Esme, painted from memory by Bella and Renesmee. The three of us had spent two weeks there a couple of years ago to celebrate Nessie’s birthday and my tenth wedding anniversary with Bella. It was my favorite painting in the world.

On the eastern wall was a bay window, Renesmee’s favorite reading nook, flanked by two tall bookshelves. And in front of the couch was a low coffee table, cluttered with books, stacks of paper, journals, pens, paints and paintbrushes, canvasses, coffee mugs, and a laptop. I sighed. The organized chaos, as Ness often referred to it, reminded me much of her mother’s old room at the Swan residence. Bella started tidying up the table immediately, replacing books onto the shelves and rearranging the mess on the table. I turned my attention to the kitchenette’s dirty dishes and the haphazardly discarded clothes on the couch, shaking my head at the untidiness. She spent her days with us either at school or at the main house, and sometimes even slept there when she felt like it. How could one girl create so much disarray after one night?

“Mom, Dad, stop it, I’ll do that later…” Nessie admonished us halfheartedly, but we were done cleaning up before she finished speaking the sentence.

“Did you already have breakfast, honey?” Bella asked.

Ness nodded and grinned. “I had cereal and two Pop-Tarts.”

Wonderful. Clearly she knew how to make healthy choices. I almost wished for the time before she had outgrown her distaste for human food. At least on a diet of animal blood, we knew she was getting some nutrients.

Bella rolled her eyes, although I knew she wasn’t really annoyed. “Esme will make you eat some fruit at the house. Are you ready to go now? Alice wants to do a final fitting of your dress, just in case she needs to make any changes.”

“It’s too bad Aunt Alice can’t see me in her visions. She could just decide to make any changes and then know which ones are right,” Nessie mused, then shook her head and bounded up from the couch, walking quickly down the hallway and into her bedroom. She came out a second later, hands deftly fastening a necklace on the nape of her neck. It was the necklace Rosalie had given her as a present for her birthday last year, a thin platinum chain and an oval pendant with the family crest on it. We filed out of the cottage, and Bella locked the door behind her.

The three of us walked together, Nessie in the middle. I asked her what books she was reading last night that she had gotten so little sleep. Instead of communicating verbally, she held my hand and showed me.

I started seeing her memories from only a few hours ago, implanted into my mind as seamlessly as though they were my own. I saw her reading all seven books of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series and watching the first film adaptation. I saw how much she’d enjoyed them. Then, I saw her thoughts on the character Aslan, the wise talking lion and savior of Narnia. She admired him, his kindness and wisdom and compassion…. Suddenly, I saw my own face mixed in with images of the lion. She was trying to tell me the lion reminded her of me.

It shocked me. I’d enjoyed the world of Narnia at the time they were published and became widely popular in the 1950s, and even Bella had told me it was one of her favorite book series. As a lonely immortal, I’d always taken comfort in the fact that I had an Aslan-like figure in my life to look up to. My father, Carlisle. It never occurred to me to think that I could ever fill that role for someone else.

I must be doing something right, I marveled to myself. If Renesmee could liken me to someone who reminded me so much of Carlisle, then perhaps fatherhood wasn’t as lost on me as I had so often felt it was. It was like I was walking on a cloud, an invisible weight lifted off my shoulders. I wrapped my arm around Nessie as we walked, trying to let her know how much I appreciated the privilege of her sharing her thoughts with me. And then she surprised us by speaking in a serious tone.

She moved away from under my arm and moved a few paces ahead, turning around so she could face us. She walked backwards as she talked, her footing steady and sure. “Momma, Daddy, I don’t think I’ve thanked either of you yet… for allowing me to go and study on my own. I know you’ve always tried to let me have a normal childhood, to make sure I never missed out on anything. I love living with you guys. I love talking to Grandpa Carlisle about history and art. I love helping Grandma work on houses. I love shopping and appreciating fashion with Aunt Alice and Aunt Rose. I love playing chess with Uncle Jasper and Uncle Emmett. I love our piano lessons, Daddy, and our two-person exclusive book club, Momma. I love going back to Forks on holidays to visit Grandpa Charlie. I love our baseball games. But now I’m ready to experience the world for myself. I know it must be hard to let me go and that you’re scared for me. I’m scared, too….”

If my heart were still alive, it might have grown in size from the joy I felt. Renesmee rarely addressed us this way anymore. It was always Mom and Dad or Edward and Bella, if we were in public. It carried me back to the days when she was still just a little child. A rapidly growing, highly intelligent child, but still our little child. She was always so perceptive; it was as though she’d sensed the essence of the conversation Bella and I had had before we reached the cottage, and this sober declaration was her way of telling us she understood.

“You have nothing to thank us for, sweetheart,” I said quickly, at the same time that Bella hurried to ask Nessie what she was afraid of, concern in her voice.

Our daughter blew out a long breath. “I’m scared of living alone, of being completely responsible for myself. But I’m really excited about it, too, and most of the time the excitement overpowers any doubts I have. I’m certain I wanna do this, and don’t they always say that something isn’t worth doing if you’re not at least a little bit afraid?” she asked, her smile reaching her deep brown eyes.

Bella paused and left my side to grasp our daughter by the shoulders. “All we want, Nessie, all we will ever want, is your happiness. And we want you to find out what that means for you on your own terms. If you decide tomorrow that you’d be happy never going to college at all, none of us will argue with your decision. But I can see how sure you are about going. I can’t promise you that I won’t be worried sick and that I won’t be calling you multiple times a day until you’re very, very annoyed with me… But I know you can take care of yourself now, and I can’t wait to see what you do next, baby.” Bella’s lovely voice sounded assured, no trace of the anxiety she’d confided in me just moments earlier. This was what I meant whenever I told Bella she was a good mother, and seeing her in action never failed to earn my awe.

“Thank you, Momma,” Renesmee said sincerely, circling her arms around Bella, and Bella hugged her back. “And I promise I will never be annoyed by your calls, even if you call a hundred times a day,” she said, grinning. “I won’t ignore yours, either, Daddy.”

This made me and Bella laugh. Of course Nessie would make time to take her crazy parents’ calls. No one was sweeter than our daughter.

Their hug ended, and we kept walking. Suddenly there was a glint of mischief in Renesmee’s eyes, and then she touched my arm and Bella’s to tell us we were being challenged to a race. Before the thought was even fully communicated she had already taken off running to the house. I shook my head and chuckled as we hurried after her. She couldn’t quite run as fast as vampires, but the head start might be enough to guarantee her win.

When we reached the house, my brothers were waiting outside for us to arrive. They both had cameras in hand—Jasper a professional digital SLR and Emmett a Polaroid instant camera. With Bella around, I couldn’t hear their minds, so I raised an eyebrow at the both of them in question. What were they up to now?

“Nessie’s already in the house, you rusty old slowpokes,” Emmett said in greeting, mocking me and Bella. But mostly me. “And to think you used to be the fastest, Edward. What a fall from grace. Let me take a picture of this really embarrassing moment for you real quick.” He positioned the instant camera near my face and pressed a button, and it started whirring as it printed out the picture. He grinned and deposited it into a large red handbag, presumably Rosalie’s, that he had slung over his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes at my brother and asked what they were doing with the cameras instead of responding to Emmett’s attempts at vexing me. It was Jasper who answered. “We’re having a photography competition. Whoever contributes the most shots for Esme’s photo albums will win. She’s planning to keep one for us and one to send to Forks for Charlie, so we’ll need a lot of pictures.”

“Yeah, and the winner—who will definitely be me—gets to skip the bake sale that Esme is going to for some hospital fundraiser,” Emmett explained with an arrogant smile. I rolled my eyes again. Of course my brothers had found a way to turn this day into some kind of contest.

“Doesn’t the Polaroid give you a pretty significant disadvantage, Em?” I pointed out, wondering how much film he was lugging around in Rose’s handbag.

“Just because it’ll be more challenging doesn’t mean I can’t still win,” he replied, shrugging. “The pictures I take will be better. Plus, the easy way is overrated, don’t you think?”

Jasper shook his head at Emmett’s smugness, then told me and Bella to pose for a picture. I turned to Bella and she turned to me, and I held both of her hands. I smiled adoringly down at her as she stared back up at me with her deep, amber eyes. We weren’t looking at the cameras, but I heard the workings of the two small devices as my brothers captured the moment.

“Aww, you two are disgusting,” Emmett chuckled as Jasper showed the photograph to all of us on the camera’s tiny screen. “Esme’s going to love that one.” The Polaroid Emmett had taken was still developing, and he shoved it inside the red bag with all the others. Then they went inside to find better subjects for their contest.

Bella and I made our way inside as well. The house was alive with the whole family looking forward to tonight’s events. I heard Alice, Rosalie, and Nessie in Alice’s room, chattering and working away on their gowns. I heard Esme in the kitchen, making breakfast for Renesmee or perhaps practicing some recipes for the upcoming bake sale. I heard Jasper and Emmett running around everyone like a couple of paparazzi, taking pictures left and right. Only Carlisle was absent, hard at work at the hospital, but he’d be back in time to see us all off to prom tonight. Bella kissed my cheek in farewell before joining Nessie with her aunts upstairs.

I gravitated towards the piano, as I often did. I scanned the perfect mental repository of all the music I knew, trying out a few bars from different pieces—some my own compositions and some written by better musicians than I—but none of them spoke to me…. Until one did. I sat down and began playing the first notes of “Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity” from Holst’s orchestral suite, The Planets. It was a piece that sounded abundantly better when played by a full orchestra, but I enjoyed it regardless. My hands glided quickly across the piano keys to produce the quick, jaunty chords of the exposition. Then the development came in ritardando, varying from the cheery main theme to take a strangely calm, nostalgic turn. Although it evoked feelings of nostalgia, it wasn’t sad. Only pensive about a time already past. The piece concluded a tempo, returning to the happy and powerful main theme. I didn’t realize how much the song reflected my mood until I was already finished playing it.

Knowing her thoughts were protected by Bella’s shield, Esme offered me her kind compliments out loud from the kitchen. “That was wonderful, Edward,” she gushed. “I have always been so fond of that piece. Please play some more, darling.” I murmured a thanks, then obliged my mother and started playing her favorite, the very song I had played for Bella the first time I brought her home to meet my family. Even though the memory was tainted by the agony and danger of the events that followed, I still looked back on it with some joy. That was the night Bella became a part of our family.

The day went on that way, calm and peaceful, everyone busy with their respective tasks. Nessie came down to join me once in the afternoon and let me hear a new composition she was working on. It was her best yet, and I told her as much. Bella came downstairs as well, listening to me play and rereading Persuasion by Jane Austen while she sat beside me on the piano bench.

Before long, it was time for us to get dressed and ready for the prom. I quickly changed into my dark brown suit. The color had been my only stipulation, the rest decided by Alice’s keen sense of fashion. Since that overcast Thursday morning—the day that had been my turn to ask questions—my favorite color had never wavered from brown. The chocolate-brown color of Bella’s human eyes was not just preserved fondly in my memories, but alive forever in Nessie, and it was beyond the bounds of possibility for me to separate such a color from the meaning of all my happiness.

After I was dressed, I tried to peek into Alice’s room to see if they were ready to go, but Alice, annoying as ever, blocked my entrance and told me to wait with Esme and Carlisle downstairs. I rolled my eyes but followed her instructions. Arguing with Alice was almost never worth it.

Carlisle was just arriving home from work right as I was coming down the stairs, and when he saw me, his eyes lit up. “Why, you look great, Edward,” he praised, setting his medical bag down on a table in the foyer. I thanked him humbly. He reached up and loosened his tie, likely more out of habit than out of a need to be more comfortable. It struck me as a very fatherly thing to do. Esme came out of the front room, greeting Carlisle with a bright smile and a quick kiss. “You’re home just in time, dear. I think the girls are almost done helping Nessie get ready.”

I snorted. At this rate, we were never going to leave the house in time. “Alice, we’ll be late!” I shouted in the direction of the stairs, knowing she could hear me perfectly.

“No, we won’t!” Alice chimed back confidently. I sighed.

Jasper and Emmett were already in their tuxedos and bounded quickly down the stairs, cameras still in hand. Rosalie was the one who joined us next, looking devastating in a burgundy mermaid dress. Emmett looked like he was about to combust. Jasper smirked at our brother’s dumbstruck expression, snapping a few pictures.

Then it was my turn to be dumbstruck as Bella started down the stairs, moving at full speed to be at my side in an instant. “Alice wouldn’t let me see Ness wearing her dress yet,” she complained, but all my attention was on her at that moment. She looked positively incredible wearing a knee-length, square-necked light azure dress, held up by thin straps with flutter sleeves and inset with a thousand little rhinestones that looked like stars. My wife could have been Selene herself, come down from the moon. I ran my fingers gently through Bella’s long, straight brown locks and pressed my palm to her cheek. And for the nth time in so many years, I was glad for the deal I’d made with Bella on our first wedding anniversary. “You look beautiful, love. Absolutely arresting,” I said honestly.

“I know,” Bella said, beaming up at me, and I laughed happily. This was our deal: whenever I told her the indisputable truth about how beautiful she looked, all she had to say in response was that she knew. In exchange, I was forbidden from spending money on gifts for her for exactly five years, and five years was such a short time for creatures such as we that the zero-gifts rule felt like it was lifted immediately. I circumvented the moratorium, anyway, by getting gifts that were for both Bella and Nessie, or both Bella and Esme…. It may not have been the fairest of contracts, but my intentions were of the purest kind. I leaned down and pulled my beautiful goddess of a wife into a deep kiss, and I felt her wide smile as her arms wrapped around my neck. We only broke away from each other when we heard Alice skipping down the stairs, dressed in a white two-piece cocktail dress that made her look like a mischievous fairy.

“Get ready, everyone!” Alice squealed, clapping her hands in anticipation. “I can’t wait to see your reactions, I know you’ll all just die.”

My sister was right. Renesmee—our only daughter, the greatest joy of our lives—stood at the top of the stairs in a gorgeous, peach pink off-shoulder gown decorated with the same little rhinestones that were on her mother’s dress and delicate leaf-patterned lace appliques, and she was a sight to die for. As she walked slowly down the stairs, one hand on the banister, Emmett and Jasper took pictures fervently, documenting the entire moment. I saw Bella press her hand to her chest, eyes soft and adoring.

“Well, how do I look?” Nessie asked when she reached the bottom of the stairs, a half-smile on her face. Her soft bronze hair fell in long, spiral waves down her shoulders, and on her neck, she still wore the necklace she’d put on this morning. She spun around in a circle, indulging the attention we lavished on her, understanding that today would not have been such a significant event for us if not for her. Esme made me, Bella, and Nessie pose for pictures by the staircase, then on the couch in the front room, and then outside on the porch. After Esme was satisfied with the pictures of the three of us, Jasper and Emmett set up a tripod and took a photo with all nine of us in the front room, our latest family portrait. When the photoshoot was done, we all filed into our vehicles to make our way to school. Bella and Nessie rode with me in the Volvo, and my siblings rode in Rosalie’s M3.

We made it to the high school just in time, and even from the car, I could already hear the booming electronic dance music and the excited prattle of hundreds of human children crowded around in the school gym. I prepared myself for the barrage of human thoughts I would have to hear tonight; the only people Bella would shield here were our family. Although Bella could shield a roomful of people from me easily, I still needed to be on the lookout for any suspicious minds when we were in public like this. The three of us met the rest of my siblings at the doors to the gym and joined the throng of high schoolers, looking like they were having the time of their lives. Little did they know how many lethal supernatural creatures had just descended upon this party. If they knew, maybe they wouldn’t be so happy.

“Are you ready for your first—but definitely not last—prom, Carlie?” Emmett asked my daughter, grinning. Nessie went by her middle name at school to be less conspicuous. At first, Bella was greatly displeased by the necessity of this precaution, but she couldn’t deny the rationale. We stood out more than enough being newcomers in a small town like this one, with our sheer number, our wealth, our beauty, and our semi-frequent ‘family trips’ to avoid the sun.

“Time to dance the night away!” Nessie said, grinning back at her uncle. She bounded away from us to meet a couple of her classmates, two girls who reminded me of Bella’s human friends, not physically, but in their manner and thoughts. Ness didn’t have many friends, and we had started to worry that her only interaction with other living beings was isolated to her family, but she rarely found her human classmates interesting, and when she did, it was because she genuinely had something in common with them.

The girl who was like Jessica, a brown-haired girl named Lindsay, shouted over the loud music at Nessie in greeting. “Oh my God, look how gorgeous you are!” Jesus, she looks like she belongs in some runway show right now. I wonder what designer this dress is by? Probably cost a million bucks…. I kind of hate her. Lindsay’s thoughts were petty and vitriolic, and I resisted the urge to march over there and shield my daughter from the bitter girl. That would have done more harm than good, so I settled for rolling my eyes and whispering in my wife’s ear about the girl’s thoughts. It was gossipy and ungentlemanly, but I had to share the burden of being powerless to protect Nessie from a fake friend.

“Oh, that girl is in my English class,” Bella said, looking unsurprised. “I knew she was mean, but I liked her Shakespeare essays. Nessie thinks she’s smart.” I scoffed and tuned in to the other girl’s thoughts—Annie, a girl with short, pink-dyed hair who made me think of Angela. She greeted Nessie with a hug, and thought, Wow, she looks like a princess. I should ask her to take a selfie with me! My mom will be super bummed if I don’t take a lot of pics tonight…. Annie pulled out a smartphone, and the three girls smiled as the little device flashed and snapped their ‘selfies.’ And then they ran to the dance floor together, jumping and laughing to the music.

I stayed with Bella in a darkened corner, and we watched Renesmee enjoying herself. Occasionally, one of my siblings would pull us away and make us dance to the upbeat music, but neither of us were particularly fond of the DJ’s infernal choices. The DJ, a baby-faced young boy called Drew who had Spanish class with me, exclusively played EDM and bastardized remix versions of classic love songs. By the ninth EDM song in a row, I finally put my proverbial foot down and crashed the DJ booth on stage to bribe him with a fifty dollar bill so he would play a song of my choosing. The boy was astonished and could barely say anything back to me, but as I walked through the crowd to reach Bella again, Johnny Ace’s “Pledging My Love” started blaring through the loudspeakers. I took Bella’s hand as we walked to the middle of the dance floor, and once we were there, I pulled her close to me and led us in a slow, intimate dance.

“This is the most romantic song I know,” Bella whispered, her head resting on my chest as we swayed slowly in a circle.

I chuckled. “Once upon a time, in a very old and decrepit truck, this song came on the radio and provided an apt soundtrack for the most romantic day of my life. Do you still remember that?”

Bella lifted her head from my chest and looked up at me, her eyebrows knitted together playfully. “My God, thirteen years and you’re still hating on the truck? I think you’ve got some issues to sort out there, honey,” she said, her beautiful lips turned up in a smirk. Then her face became more earnest. “But of course I remember. That was one of the best days of my life, too.”

Her amber eyes looked so full of love, so full of sincerity, that I felt like falling to my knees. As a mature vampire, more than a decade after her transformation, she should have no more than a few blurry recollections of her human life. But Bella felt so strongly about me, about the memories we’d made, that she vehemently held on to our past, even as each day, each minute, and each second brought us further away from it. I kissed her, always trying to let her know how precious she was to me. The song was nearly over, and I sighed. I could have stayed there dancing with her forever and never need anything more.

“Smile, please!” I heard Renesmee say, Emmett’s Polaroid camera in her hand. She snapped a photo of us. Then she turned the camera around, sandwiched herself between her mother and I, stuck her tongue out goofily, and pressed the button on the camera to take a picture again. Bella laughed.

“Where did your friends go?” Bella asked. “I was starting to think you guys would never get tired of dancing together.”

“Oh, they went back to their dates,” Nessie said nonchalantly. “So I decided to annoy Uncle Em by taking his camera.” A folky, lullaby-like acoustic song was now playing through the speakers.

“Oh—I love this song so much!” Nessie gasped. “Please dance with me, Dad?” She whispered the last word to keep any humans from hearing.

How could I refuse her? “Of course, sweetheart.”

Bella smiled and took the camera and the Polaroids from Nessie, saying something about finding Emmett and his big red bag. I led my daughter in a slow dance around the crowd, her hands resting on my shoulders.

“You and Mom looked amazing dancing together like that,” Nessie said casually, but by the look on her face, I could feel how serious the conversation was going to be. “I know the story, Dad. I know everything you went through before you could get here. And I am so happy that it worked out for you. Seeing how much you love Momma, how much she loves you… it makes me never wanna settle for anything less than that.”

My brows furrowed. “Is that why you said no to the boys who asked you to be their date tonight? Because you don’t love any of them?”

We kept swaying to the music, and Nessie chuckled. “Kind of. It’s true I said no because I don’t feel a connection to any of them, but also because I didn’t want tonight to be about some stranger hanging out around our family. I wanted it to just be us, so we could be ourselves.”

My heart swelled. Nessie always thought of our family first. That wasn’t her responsibility, and we would’ve been all too happy to pretend to be human and normal for any prom date of her choice, but she thought of us first. She was so like her mother in some ways.

“What did you mean, then? About never settling for anything less?” I asked. Something about the way she’d said it worried me, made me feel as though there were insecurities underneath her positive tone that needed to be addressed.

She took a deep breath. “I just… I realized that real love like I’ve seen with you and Mom, Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle Em and Aunt Rose, Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice… it’s rare and it’s wonderful. And I think I would prefer waiting for a love where I could feel everything there is to feel rather than try to force something with anyone I’m not sure about. And I realize I could be waiting forever if I keep waiting for something perfect, but that’s the point, isn’t it? And I can’t imagine how I would ever find something like that. And that’s all right, I think.”

Renesmee’s words were full of conviction, and I started thinking about how, someday, the day would come when we would be dancing just like this—I would be in a tuxedo and she would be in a big white dress—at her wedding, for the father-daughter dance. Like her, I could not imagine yet the person she would marry, but I saw our family there. I saw Charlie desperately trying to ignore how our faces still remained unchanged. I saw Jacob, whom Renesmee considered her best friend, taking a break from managing his own auto repair shop to be there as her best man. It would be the happiest day of her life, just as how my wedding had been one of the happiest days of mine, and it saddened me that she couldn’t see herself finding that happiness one day. But I understood Nessie’s conclusions—or maybe more accurately, her fears—about not finding love. When I was still alone, I’d come to similar conclusions that the kind of happiness I saw in my family was simply not meant for me. Even when I’d found Bella, I always chose the saddest path, never daring to hope that I could have happiness with her forever.

“I admire your position about refusing to settle, Ness, because you deserve only the best. And I was just like you once. Before I found your mother, I never saw the point in pursuing relationships that I knew weren’t going to be meaningful. But you shouldn’t let yourself believe that you won’t find what you’re looking for.” I brushed a stray lock of curly bronze hair behind Nessie’s ear, hoping she could hear the honesty in what I was saying. “You know that for our kind, waiting through decades of being alone before finding who you’re meant for is more common than finding that right away….So please, don’t be so resigned. You are entirely too young to resign yourself to an eternity of being alone. It will work out, somehow,” I finished, echoing Esme’s confident words to Bella long ago when our relationship was at its very beginning.

Renesmee nodded, and I hoped my reassurances had lifted a little of the weight off her shoulders. I didn’t need to have Jasper’s gift for empathy to know that existing in both our world and the human world, not quite belonging in either, was a difficult thing to process. I didn’t know what the future held for my daughter—none of us did—but I looked forward to it with the same optimism my own parents had always had for me.

The acoustic ballad we were dancing to ended softly, and I escorted her away from the dance floor so we could rejoin our family.

“My feet kind of hurt,” Nessie complained as we found Bella sitting beside Rosalie on some folding chairs, but a smile was still bright on her face. She was having such fun tonight.

“Do you want to go home, baby?” Bella asked as Nessie dragged over another chair to sit down between Bella and Rose. Nessie rested her head on Rose’s shoulder, and Rose circled her arm around Nessie in a one-armed hug. “You’ve been dancing all night, I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Yeah, I think I wanna go home,” Ness said, sounding a little sleepy.

Suddenly, Lindsay and Annie appeared out of the crowd as an upbeat pop song started playing. “Carlie, come dance with us!” one of the human girls said.

Nessie perked up. “Wait, I love this song! Just one last!” she said enthusiastically, heading back to the dance floor with her friends. I shook my head, amazed at her energy. I sat down on the seat that Nessie had just vacated.

“We’re still a go for tomorrow, right, Rose?” I asked Rose discreetly. If the weather was safe enough for us to be out, we were going into the city tomorrow so Rose could help me pick out Nessie’s very first car. She learned how to drive when she was seven but always used the cars that belonged to the rest of the family. Now that she was going to college, she needed a vehicle to be able to get around on her own. Bella was coming with us, too, to be the voice of reason. Apparently, Rose was just as likely as I was to pick a car that Bella would deem—and this was her word—‘overkill.’ Rose only nodded in response, but I saw the corners of her mouth turn up a little.

We all watched as Nessie danced to one last song with her friends, and I could pick her lovely voice out of the babble of other noise as she sang along. “There’s a mountaintop that I’m dreamin’ of…. If you need me, you know where I’ll be!”

“She’ll call us constantly once she’s in college, right?” Bella asked me in an emotional whisper, looking at our daughter jumping up and down and singing with her friends. Since she became a vampire, I rarely thought of my wife as vulnerable anymore, but she looked vulnerable now. If our bodies were still capable of shedding tears, I wondered if she would be crying. Honestly, I realized I wanted to cry as well. Renesmee was ready to create her own life, and she needed us less and less every day. Years ago, I’d thought loving Bella was the greatest accomplishment of my life, the only good thing I would ever do. I’d thought that, after a hundred years of emptiness, loving Bella as thoroughly and as completely as I did was the strongest feeling I would ever experience. But Nessie—she proved those assumptions wrong, time and again. It was an honor to have raised her, and I knew Bella felt the same.

I held Bella’s hand and kissed her temple. “I’m sure she will, love. I’m sure she will.”

After a few moments, the song was over, and Nessie was saying her goodbyes to her friends. When she had made her way back to us, she cried, “My feet are killing me! Please never let me dance all night in heels ever again.”

Bella let out a short laugh. “It’s fine, baby. You can take off your shoes and your dad will carry you to the car.”

“Oh, bless!” she exclaimed. Bella laughed again. Nessie pulled off her heels, which Bella promptly carried for her, and our daughter let me lift her up in my arms. As we walked, Bella wrapped her arm around my waist. I glanced up at the night sky and saw the pale moon untrammeled by the usual gray clouds, bathing the high school parking lot in its ghostly light. It conjured up memories of a similar evening. Another prom night—Bella’s very first. I’d carried her in my arms just like this, and I remembered how desperate I’d been, how important it was for me that she did not miss her prom, in case her future children ever asked about it. I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t have an empty story for them because of me. And here we were, thirteen years later, with the miracle of our own child in my arms, Bella’s arm around me. Not even the sweetest of my dreams could compare to the reality we lived in now. I stared at Bella’s face, wondering if her thoughts had taken the same turn mine had. She pressed a hand to her throat, remembering how I’d kissed her there that night. We shared a secret smile.

When we reached the car, Bella opened the door to the backseat, and I sat Ness gently down in the middle, making sure her limbs were in comfortable positions. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, looking seconds away from succumbing to sleep. Bella got in beside her, and I sat in the driver’s seat to take us back home.

At moments like this, I still struggled to believe how I could have been given so much happiness, so much unadulterated joy that went beyond the ambit of anything I had ever dared to dream of for myself.

It felt like a reward I didn’t deserve. Maybe it was futile, looking for reasons when I knew I would get no answers. But in all my musings, the only conclusion I came to that made any kind of sense was that… it was because of Bella.

Because of Bella and her goodness, that rare kindness I saw only in her—she was why I was allowed all this happiness. And I was just the fool lucky enough to be in the range of her shining sun. Lucky enough to love her and be loved by her.

How could I ever tell her how grateful I was? Grateful that she could always see past the worst of me and my mistakes. Grateful that she had unlimited selflessness, giving us the family I’d envisioned for her, but thought impossible for me. Grateful that she was all too happy to be the first and only love of my existence. Grateful that cruel fate, after our various ordeals, had turned merciful to bring us to this heaven.

I looked back at them again, Nessie now sleeping soundly on Bella’s lap, and Bella absentmindedly twining her fingers through the mess of bronze curls fanned out on the soft fabric of her dress. “She’s dreaming,” Bella whispered. I could see Nessie’s hand on Bella’s arm, inadvertently letting Bella see the pictures she was swimming through in the land of her dreams.

I was sure that no words in any of the languages I knew could ever sufficiently reveal the feelings of peace and contentment that I felt, staring at them, the two halves of my heart, at ease in the backseat.

Bella caught me looking then, her golden eyes piercing through mine in the rearview mirror. She smiled, lowered her shields, and allowed me to hear one thought: I love you.

“I love you, too, Bella,” I whispered. I willed the past and the future that stretched out infinitely before us to give those words weight, seeming too simple and inadequate to convey the depth of what I felt.

No, I didn’t have the words that could tell Bella how grateful I was for her. For Renesmee. For our family. Perhaps I never would…. But that was fine. I had the rest of forever to try and find the words. Forever and forever and forever. I smiled and felt lighter than if my heart were not made of stone, and sped up the car to take us faster towards home.

#writing #twilight fanfiction #kellythepitiablefangirl #thethoughtsofafangirl #edwardsmidnight #magicandmyth #mafitheedwardhoe #← thanks once again to my friends for prereading this and giving me feedback u guys are the bestest #midnight sun still has me very 🥺🥺🥺 and this entire fic was just an exercise in reminding myself that e/b are living their best lives now

[gstqaobc]

THE ROYAL FASCINATOR

Friday, March 12/2021

Hello, royal watchers and all those intrigued by what’s going on inside the House of Windsor. This is another special edition of your dose of royal news and analysis.

Reading this online? Sign up here to get this delivered to your inbox.

      Janet Davison Royal Expert

The Harry and Meghan interview: Beyond the turmoil

While sifting through everything Prince Harry and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, had to say to Oprah Winfrey Sunday night, many saw parallels to other troubled times for the Royal Family.

The interview raised concerns particularly around race and mental health, and many found in it reminders of what Harry’s mother, Diana, experienced, as she laid bare the lack of support she felt after her ill-fated marriage to Prince Charles.

But the Diana period, which came as the clock wound down on the 20th century, was hardly the first time of family turmoil.

And in those earlier experiences going back decades — and centuries — there could lie hints of the House of Windsor’s fate after this latest crisis.

“I don’t think the history of this Royal Family, which has been written off so many times, tells you anything other than they know how to survive,” said John Fraser, author of The Secret of the Crown: Canada's Affair with Royalty, and founding president of the Institute for the Study of the Crown in Canada.

“Going back, back, back, there has never been a reign that hasn’t had some domestic problems.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly for an institution that emphasizes keeping calm and carrying on, there have been only the slimmest of hints this week of what will come next.

In a 61-word statement issued by Buckingham Palace Tuesday, the Queen said she and her family were saddened to learn of Harry and Meghan’s experiences, and that issues raised, particularly of race, would be addressed privately by the family.

In response to a question from a reporter while at an engagement at a school in east London on Thursday, Prince William said, ”We're very much not a racist family.”

BBC royal correspondent Sarah Campbell said William could have ignored the question.

“Despite the Queen's statement saying the race issue would be dealt with privately, the prince clearly felt he had to push back on what has become a very public and damaging allegation," Campbell wrote on the BBC website. “Remaining silent, he felt, was not the best option.”

In the interview with Winfrey, Meghan and Harry said there was a conversation — or conversations — with an unnamed family member in which concerns were raised about the colour of the skin of their first child before he was born.

It was perhaps the most damaging moment of the interview for the family, and one that is still surrounded in murkiness.

While Harry told Winfrey later that neither of his grandparents — Queen Elizabeth or Prince Philip — was part of that particular conversation, he refused to say during the interview who was.

“The fact that [Harry’s] on the outs with his father leads everyone to believe it must have been Charles, or possibly William, and until that’s dealt with, it’s this huge problem if they’re going to be future sovereigns,” said Fraser.

He said he finds it “unbelievable” that Charles, the man who walked Meghan halfway down the aisle at her wedding, would be worried about the colour of his grandson’s skin.

“Nothing in his life suggests that he is that callous or stupid,” Fraser said.

Still, it’s not clear who might have said it.

“It’s been left like a timebomb,” said Fraser. “How can [Charles] be the head of the Commonwealth, which has so many Black nations, until this is resolved? It’s a real dilemma.”

Fraser expects we will eventually learn who was involved in the conversation in question. “It’s just the nature of the way things go.”

But Fraser hopes it will be a given a context, and that it will be worked out within the family, “at some point down the road when they’ve got some distance from the immediate hurt that everyone must be feeling at the moment.”

Shola Mos-Shogbamimu, a lawyer and human rights activist in London, says the family’s circumstances are not beyond repair.

“But the point is Buckingham Palace better take this seriously, not come out with any stiff-upper-lip nonsense,” she told Adrienne Arsenault, senior correspondent and co-host of CBC’s The National, this week, before the statement from the palace.

“Nobody’s going to stand for it. Not for the racist comment, not for their lack of support for Meghan’s mental health, suicidal thoughts, not that fact that Prince Charles apparently failed to even speak to his son….

“All of those things should be answered and they should be answered humanely, like the Royal Family is in touch with what the public expects from it.”

Maybe there is at least one more signal of efforts within the family to work things out. While the relationship between William and Harry has been deeply strained, William said Thursday he will be speaking with his brother.

Who can be a prince or princess

Amid the many issues Meghan raised during the interview, one that seemed particularly troubling for her concerned conversations before Archie’s birth.

“They were saying they didn’t want him to be a prince or a princess — not knowing what the gender would be — which would be different from protocol, and that he wasn’t going to receive security,” she said.

That got a lot of people wondering about just what provisions there are for determining who becomes a prince or princess.

Under provisions of a letter patent issued by King George V in 1917, Archie would not at this point in his life be eligible to be a prince.

But his cousin — Prince William’s eldest son, seven-year-old George, who is in direct line to the throne — is a prince. George’s siblings can be a prince or princess, too, under provisions of a letter patent issued in 2012 by Queen Elizabeth, before George was born.

But that’s where it ends for that generation of royal great-grandchildren of the monarch, as things stand now.

“None of Harry’s children automatically get to be a prince except if there’s some reason that the Queen would bestow it on them,” said Fraser.

Grandchildren of a monarch can be princes or princesses, however, and things could change for Archie when his grandfather, Charles, becomes the monarch.

Whether Meghan’s comments might refer to what might happen then isn’t clear.

There is a broad understanding that Charles is looking toward a more streamlined monarchy, with fewer working members.

"I saw that Meghan mentioned that there were plans to narrow eligibility and I imagine that this is a reference to the Prince of Wales's stated view that the size of the Royal Family needs to be reduced," Bob Morris from the constitution unit at University College London told the BBC.

"However, he has not so far as I know given details of how it should be accomplished."

Fascinator readers write

Readers of the Royal Fascinator shared their views in droves after the Winfrey interview. Here’s a sampling of emails and excerpts from longer messages that reflect the wide range of thoughts offered on Harry, Meghan and what they said on Sunday.

From Linda: “I was saddened by the interview. It could have been a great opportunity for the royals to move forward and acknowledge mental health issues, but The Firm refused to take that route. Shocked to hear how the men in grey suits direct so much of the agenda.”

From Susan: “Unsubstantiated accusations are very damaging. It’s easy to allege things were said and then refuse to say who said them. Then it’s just a case of he said, she said. But the damage is done.”

From Charlie: “I feel for Harry and Meghan and I don't blame them one bit for the decision they made for leaving the U.K. and the Royal Family, in search for a more peaceful, sane and healthy lifestyle and mental health. I have never been a royal watcher or a fan of all the pomp that goes into it. I personally think Canada should abolish all that nonsense as it relates to a Governor General as the representative of the Queen in Canada (who is still our head of state). Canada should maintain close ties with the U.K., for sure, as partners, allies and friends, but this monarchy BS is a waste of taxpayer dollars.”

From Margaret: ��I am still grappling with the intent of the interview and tell-all. And what is to be gained by the couple? Probably more paparazzi and Hollywood-like behaviours…. The constant referral back to Diana gives one pause for thought as well. Yes, Harry was totally traumatized by his mother’s death…. That said, although there are some similarities in press and media reporting, Diana was very young and naive when she joined ‘The Firm,’ whereas Harry and Meagan were well into their 30s when they married and should have known full well what could happen…. I do not mean to downplay or negate the comments on race/skin colour. Hopefully there will be some conversations around that at the palace level.”

From Tina: “I felt so much of this interview resonated with the Diana era. It left me with many questions, but mostly: How on earth can a parent stop taking calls from their child? How on earth can a parent not want to keep their family safe? How on earth can a parent allow the words of racism to be spoken amongst anyone, never mind their own? How on earth can a parent knowingly watch your child go through such pain and not reach out?... I applaud the two of them for coming out to the world and letting people be reminded, once again, of a dated monarchy who cares more about how they are perceived to the world than that of their own. One can only hope for Meghan and Harry to have a life of joy with their little family and always be safe .... and perhaps maybe Harry's wish that 'time heals all' comes true and his family come to their senses.”

From Paul: “Unless I misheard Meghan, she mentioned that she was not informed/prepared with the protocols of ‘The Firm.’ I find this difficult to believe. She is an intelligent, successful woman with a mind of her own.... I am not naive enough to not know there would be some racial problems.  But I do believe too much emphasis was placed on the racial issue. As for protection being dropped for Harry, why not? He is in a foreign country, by choice…. With all Harry and Meghan's money, they should be paying for their own protection. Remember, they optioned out of the U.K. Nevertheless, I wish them the best in their endeavours.”

From Anna: “I do not feel this interview will damage the Royal Family. There are differences of opinion in all families. I do not feel the whole Royal Family should be painted with the same brush. This interview will be so hard on the Queen. My heart goes out to her.”

We’ll continue to include comments from readers in future editions of the Royal Fascinator

Royal reads

1. Harry and Meghan’s interview might have some thinking it’s time for Canada to retire the Queen and its connection to the monarchy, but it wouldn’t be that simple to do, writes CBC’s Aaron Wherry.

2. Harry talked of an “invisible contract” between the media and the Royal Family. The BBC took a closer look at what it is.

3. Journalist and TV presenter Piers Morgan left British broadcaster ITV after long-running criticism of Meghan that reached a crescendo after the interview with Winfrey. [CBC

Cheers

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GSTQAOBC🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

tapestry 👑 XII

Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The yuletide arrives with many surprises.

Note: Okay, it’s part 12 and y’all are still here. This is where it really start to get messy. Trust me when I say we going on a wild ride and what better people to accompany me than all you lovely readers. Let me just say that you are all wonderful and amazing. This story wouldn’t be around if it wasn’t for you guys. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

The kingdom was quiet. A blanket of snow muffled the winter winds as they battered the castle. The yuletide loomed and all were in a flurry to ready for the celebration. The biggest banquet of the year was to be held in the capital. A day of kindness and reverence to be marked with wine, dancing, and gifts.

As the occasion neared, it seemed as if all the courtly ado had faded away. At least, the whispers hushed and tensions eased, if only a little. The king persisted still and the queen seethed, but the stalemate had yet to break. Yet all the court was eager to forget the drama for the joviality of the season.

You walked with the ladies along the corridors from their morning prayers to the feast hall. That day, the ladies were to decorate the hall with silk streamers and snowflakes cut from vellum and dyed. The queen had been absent from breakfast, busied by her preparations for the impending feast.

You wore a blue gown striped with yellow; one of a dozen commissioned by the king. The cut was unlike your usual wardrobe; the neckline wide and square. You were unused to it and not entirely fond of the style. Nor the comments of the other ladies as they envied your new attired.

You walked with Marion at your side, Rose was behind you with Joan, Beatrice, and Mary. Her bodice had been let out a few inches for her growing stomach and her cheeks glowed with her condition. She seemed, since her marriage to the elder Lord Alan, as close to happy as you'd known her. You did not speak often but she did not, at least, hold the same animosity for you, though the queen remained spiteful of her rounding figure.

"The physicians says it should be a spring baby," You heard Rose as you neared the feast hall. "A good omen."

"And does he think it a girl or a boy?" Beatrice urged.

"He says a boy and prescribes red wine to ensure it," She said. "I suppose I don't mind either way."

"And Lord Alan?" You glanced over your shoulder. "Does he yearn for a son?"

"Oh, he yearns for any child," She sounded surprised at your question but not unkind. "You would think him young again the way he carries on."

You turned back to your path as you came upon the doors to the hall. Servants stood with baskets and handed them to each lady as they passed through the doors. As you came up, you were stopped by the king's guard, stood at the opposite wall in his mail and helm.

"Not her," He said darkly. 

"What?" You blinked and peered past the servants into the feast hall. The queen was within and turned her back to you before your eyes could meet. "Why?"

"Queen's orders," He replied curtly. 

"But she must help us," Marion grabbed your arm and tried to pull you through the door. The guard quickly seized your other arm.

"There are enough of you to manage," He sneered. "Go on, lady, and return to your chambers."

"Why does the queen banish her?" Rose touched her stomach as she came up beside you. "She did most of the work in making the decorations."

"You know why, better than most," The guard snarled. "Now go on."

"If you'll not let her in, we will not go either. Right, ladies?" Rose looked to her companions who were visibly nervous. 

"Don't be a fool," The guard warned.

"Why I was never kept from court myself so I do not see why she should be," Rose insisted and you stared at her shocked. "At least call the queen forth so that we may hear it from her."

"Rose, really," You drew away from Marion and the guard cautiously released you. "I cannot blame the queen. It is very kind of you to defend me but...you know what this is."

"The queen cannot blame you for her husband’s disloyalty." Rose frowned. "And to be quite honest, she's not so kind as you. Especially of late."

"And why do you think that is?"

"How can she hold it against me still? Or you? She is unforgiving and worse; cruel." Rose said. "We will go with you then. You should not be left alone."

"Please, you would only make it worse." You said softly. "You all go and ready the hall. I can't wait to see it, though I must."

Marion looked disappointed as Rose's companions eyed her curiously. She had deterred their former distaste but none had been more than tolerable. 

"Go on, I am certain I can busy myself otherwise," You assured them. "She is the queen and I've yet to be disobedient. Though she may see it else wise."

The ladies looked to each other and you nodded. You stepped around them and did your best to hold your head up as you walked away from them. As you turned the corner, you fell against the wall and clasped your hand over your mouth.

You'd never been so humiliated. Worse, you'd never been so hurt. Despite the open hostility on the queen's part, you'd not expected this. The women, regardless of their taste for intrigue, had offered you a sense of normalcy. Though the king propped you up, you still spent your days as they did. The same plain girl who'd attended court for the last two years.

Well, there was no place left for that girl.

👑

Hours after your ejection, a knock came at your door. Truly, it was better described as a hammering. Marge jumped up from her chair as you mended a fraying hem of a shift and you nodded for her to answer it. You rose as the king stormed in.

"You are upset, your highness?" You asked as you curtsied to him, your shift hanging from your hand.

"Of course I am," He boomed. "Are you not?"

"Why should I be?" You asked.

"The queen. That she should cast you out." He barked. "And without my consent. To spite me even."

"It is not worth the anger," You said calmly. "It gave me time to catch up on my own chores."

"It--" He stopped short before he could begin to pace. "My lady, how can you be so forgiving?"

"Is that what it is?" You set aside your shift and turned back to him."Your highness, I think perhaps I am just not prepared for all this."

"Oh, don't say that." He said. "She is desperate. Can't you see? She knows her position is false and so she deflects. She seeks to legitimize herself through you."

"She clings to her husband," You said softly. "As any woman would."

"She insults you," He touched your shoulder as he drew himself close. "I will not stand for it."

"I am not hurt by it," You assured him. "Your highness, it is a time for compassion. We need not languish upon something so vile. We can carry on."

"I…" He looked into your eyes and sighed. He considered you for a moment. "You lie. You are hurt but you are too ashamed to say it."

"And why should I say it?" You asked. "What would you do to punish her? If you forced her to take me back, how do you think she would receive me?"

"I suppose you are right, my lady," He stroked your cheek with his fingertips. "She has already attempted to cripple you, I'd not put it past her again."

"That is not known to be true," You protested.

"Not yet, but I know it to be. In my heart, I am certain." He brought his other hand up to frame your face. "You are too gentle. I…" 

He breathed and closed his eyes. "In moment such as these, I find it so difficult to resist you. To keep myself from my basest desires. It makes me impatient though I know our resolution is near."

"Resolution?" You wondered and he slowly opened his eyes.

He smirked and leaned down to kiss you softly before he pulled away.

"You must be patient as I have," He reproached. "But this yuletide will bring us many gifts. Many, indeed."

👑

You looked in the glass as Marge held it up. You smoothed the beaded skirts and felt the taut bodice along your stomach. The sleeves left most of your shoulders bare, the trumpets long and wispy. The gown was heavy and unwieldy. Your cap matched it and sat atop your twisted plait.

You were to sit with ladies along their table. It felt, almost, as if nothing had changed. But it had and even acting as if it hadn't could not repair the cracks. 

You glanced around as you took your seat, Marion to your left and Beatrice at your right. Rose sat with her husband along another table and your father proudly found his spot among the counselors. You thought wistfully of how your mother's return had once more been delayed; this time by the weather. You wished she was there to guide you as you ventured further into the dark.

The hall was raucous with voices as lords and ladies awaited the arrival of their king and queen. You were on edge and uncomfortable. The bodice was tight and pinched your sides. The beading was not to your taste and the large polished opal at your throat pressed into your flesh.

When the horns blasted, the guests quieted and stood to receive the royal couple. It was a symphony that seemed to last for too long before the king and queen appeared. Steven’s arm was hooked through Eleanor’s and she wore her usual stoic smile. Even as she held her head up, there was a stiffness about her that foretold something more. Her husband was entirely unbothered; if not gleeful.

Their subjects bowed and you did your best to blend into the crowd. Yet there was no hiding anymore. You did not miss the king’s glance towards you, though it did not linger as usual. As he climbed up onto the royal dais, your eyes strayed ahead of him. You had been so swept up in your worries, you hadn’t noticed the third chair upon the platform. 

You squinted and looked along the table of nobles alongside the royal dais. Lord Barnes caught your eye and tilted his head. From so far away, you weren’t certain he was smirking, though he looked to be. It even appeared that he winked at you. You lowered your gaze and waited to sit.

“My subjects,” The king’s voice echoed across the hall, “As I welcome you to the yuletide celebration and wish you all a happy holiday, I also have a surprise for you all. For the kingdom as a whole. A visitor who shall bring us prosperity and peace.”

There was a low murmur through the crowd. A confusion that matched your own. You blinked as you looked around, searching for any hint of the king’s ploy. You turned back to the royal couple and noticed the queen’s tense smile. She looked at her husband from the corner of her eyes as she spoke. Her hands were clutched before her.

“So, let us welcome our honoured guest, a visitor to our kingdom for the weeks to come, who has traveled so far so that we may reach an accord to benefit his people as much as our own.” The king was buoyant, his voice timorous. “I introduce to you all and welcome him kindly to share in our yuletide and all that our realm has to offer; King T’challa of Wakanda.”

The horns blared again and you shared a wide-eyed gape with Marion before you looked to the doors once more. The foreign king was preceded by his retinue, a dozen lords in silver trimmed black with braided belts and furred caps. Their king was clothed in brocade as white as snow with silver ornaments. He smiled at his host and graciously waved to the nobles. 

The foreign retinue filled one of the lower tables as their king climbed up to the dais. A guard followed closely and stood behind the royal seats. To your surprise, the guard looked to be female. King T’challa and Steven greeted each other joyously and as they turned to the queen, her smile threatened to waver. She bowed her head and welcomed the visitor.

“King T’challa,” The king boomed as he stepped in front of his chair between his queen and his royal guest. “We hope you shall enjoy your time here, but first, do join us in our yuletide feast.”

“I thank you, King Steven,” T’challa returned with an eloquent accent. “I have no doubt that I shall enjoy my sojourn very much.”

With that, the royals sat and their subjects followed. The benches and chaired creaked in unison as fabric wished and wood scraped on stone.

You couldn't take your eyes off Eleanor as you sat. She seemed almost afraid. Her husband spoke amiably to the man beside him as she seemed to hide behind his other shoulder. You'd seen many sides of her in the last months; kind, angry, hurt… but never so meek. 

There was more to the king's visit than diplomacy but you could not guess at what.

👑

When the dancing began, the king did not seek you out. You were not disappointed, rather relieved. Instead he took Eleanor's hand and led her to the middle of the floor. King T'challa was paired with Diana as her husband dismissed the entertainment for his cup.

You stood along the wall and pondered the spinning bodies. Perhaps all was as it was before. It had all just fallen into place and you were just the girl in the corner. You'd liked to have believed it, but life was never so simple. Especially at court.

You were drawn from your reverie as a shadow blurred the edge of your vision. You turned to the disturbance. Lord Barnes bowed to you and took your hand to kiss it. You watched him dully as he stood straight and smiled back at you. His dark hair and cornflower overcoat made his blue eyes shine. You lowered your chin and looked up at him warily.

“My lady,” He greeted. 

“Lord Barnes,” You said stiffly.

“Would you put to waste a new dress at the yuletide?” He prodded. “I must say, it is likely the most ravishing I’ve seen you.”

“Am I to blush at a compliment such as that?” You returned. “You’ve the tact of a sailor stranded in the mountains.”

“Oh, do we wilt my lady as the sun shines elsewhere?” He mused.

“I merely rest in the shade before the sun moves,” You assured him. “A respite from its intolerable beams.”

“And if I did ask you to come out from the shadows, would you accept?”

“It depends, do you ask?”

He scoffed and shrugged. He grinned as he glanced around the hall. “I do. I could not let you linger, my lady. How sad it is your heavy feet do chase off so many prospects.”

“I do not find it very sad at all. It does allow me a rare solitary.” You countered and he looked rather unimpressed.

“I will not ask again.”

“I will not accept again.”

He looked at you pointedly and raised his hand. You took it and he drew you out amidst the bodies of dancers. He faced you as he began the steps; you followed as best you could, barely missing his toes. He peeked down to avoid your feet and you chuckled.

“And were you aware of our visitor?” You pondered. “You did not seem so baffled by his appearance.”

“Our king cannot arrange such a surprise upon his own,” He raised his head as he glanced across the hall. “I did aid him in secreting the second king into the capital. A task amid the snowfall.”

“How very daring,” You said dryly.

“I should think much more than weaving a needle,” He retorted. 

“And what of our queen? She did seem rather nonplussed by her guest,” You said. 

“As she would be,” He affirmed. “You do know she is formerly acquainted with his majesty.”

You shook your head and you lifted your brows. “I did not.”

“Her father was at war with his and when the war did end, T’Chaka sent his son to be ward in her land. They were betrothed as a peace accord and she was to return with him to Wakanda.” Barnes explained. “Until another conflict arose between the countries and the prince was recalled home. There were whispers of war but rumours do not dissolve a contract. Even so, the princess accepted another with our king. I think you can surmise from there how it went.”

You frowned as you thought. You recalled what the king had alluded to before; his questions of his marriage’s legitimacy. You exhaled slowly and averted your gaze from the man before you. Your eyes landed on another who watched; Steven stared past Eleanor as he watched you dance.

“And? What can he do with that now? They married without opposition. They’ve remained as such for over ten years.” You kept your voice low. “What can he gain from bringing him here now?”

“More than she can,” Bucky answered. “He is a reminder of the ambiguity of the union. A bolster to our king’s desire.”

“I do wonder, Lord Barnes, at your role in all this.”

“I am a loyal subject.”

“I do not ask of your place in this court, but I question your intent. Towards the king, towards the queen, towards me.” You insisted. “Do you too bolster his desire?”

“You think I tricked you,” His smile fell. “I assure you, lady, I did not.”

“You know him well. Better than any.”

“Perhaps not so well as I thought.” He said. “I thought...well, I’ve seen him rebuffed by Eleanor and he walks away. Leaves her be because he’d rather another more pliable.”

“And yet he would chase me through the halls.” You crinkled your brow doubtfully. “The same man.”

“I assure you, it was no trick, merely a misconception on my part.” He looked down and you crushed his toe. He barely flinched. “My own arrogance. For he changes and I have not noticed and I am too proud to admit it.”

You considered his words. You were silent for a moment and the music enshrined your bodies as you swayed in time. You saw the king as he wove between the guests. Behind him, T’Challa danced with Eleanor. She was pale and not so graceful on her feet as usual. As Steven neared, you stopped and Barnes was nearly toppled by your suddenness.

“Your highness,” You let go of Barnes and curtsied. The lord bowed in turn.

“My lady,” The king smiled. “I find myself without a partner.” He turned to Barnes, “Forgive me, my lord, but I think to steal yours for a jig.”

“Not at all,” Barnes said evenly. “I would like a moment off my feet as it were.”

“Very well,” The king smiled and dismissed his friend with a nod. He turned to you and his eyes traversed your figure. “My lady, you look even more wonderful than I expected. The fabric is most becoming.”

“Thank you, your highness,” You let him take your hand. 

“I dare say…” He lowered his voice as he guided you. “You look almost like a queen.”

You gulped and tried to hide your discomfort. Your lips trembled as you smiled and you looked away bashfully. “Your highness…”

“Almost…” He repeated. “No, my lady, you do.”

“You flatter me.”

“My lady, I do prepare you for what is to come,” He said. “As I have sworn to you, it begins to boil over and when the water does cool, we will have rid ourselves of ill humours.”

“Why?” You breathed as you looked up at him. “After all these years, why now?”

“The time did loom anon,” His eyes dilated as he stared down at you. “But my lady, you made it even more pressing.”

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