and his adorable wife

15 reasons why Gaston is kinda awesome...

1. He doesn’t make fun of Belle for reading, like the other villagers do.

2. He’s polite. “Pardon.” “Excuse me.” “Please let me through!”

3. He’s strong and can handle himself in a fight.

4. He has amazing hair! (So grabbable)

5. He’s not afraid to admit when he doesn’t know something.

6. His self-confidence is through the roof!

7. He’ll bring you flowers!

8. He knows how to have a good time!

9. He has great aim; with a knife, with a quiver and with a gun!

10. He’s not afraid of public speaking.

11. He’s gorgeous! (Can’t ignore the obvious)

12. He’s a nice dresser and has very well-tailored pants (very important IMHO).

13. He just wants a quiet family life where he can stay home with his wife and adorable children! Awwwww

14. He can SING!

15. He’s played by Luke Evans! ;)

Y’all, we need to take a moment to appreciate the story of how Marc Evan Jackson (aka Kevin Cozner in B99, Trevor Nelsson in Parks and Rec, Sparks Nevada in the Thrilling Adventure Hour, etc) met his wife because it legitimately is a Real Life Vet AU and is the most adorable thing. ♥♥ OK, SO: 

  • His wife is a vet, and they first met because his cat was sick.
  • When she walked into the tiny patient room, they had a “two-way, star-in-the-eye, twinkle moment.” 
  • As she was listening to his cat’s heart during the physical exam, his actual thoughts were: I’M GOING TO KISS HER. Wait, no, I could go to jail today if I do that… She doesn’t need me in her life. I’m not going to do anything. 
  • He was planning to travel somewhere and needed a permit/certificate for his cat to fly with him, so he had to go back to the vet. 
  • At the second visit, she asked him out by saying she wanted a tour of downtown because she had been away from the area for several years. 
  • He wasn’t 100% sure if they were on a date, but he took her out to dinner, coffee, and dessert anyway.
  • He actually did bring her on a “total bullshit tour” – he had no idea where he was driving her to because he had been so busy with work and really barely knew the city. 
  • Right when he was lost in the middle of the nowhere, she started giving him directions… And then he realized that it was a date! She knew exactly where they were and didn’t need a tour at all!!! 

In conclusion, ADORABLE AU-TYPE MEET CUTES CAN HAPPEN IN REAL LIFE AS WELL.

{Check out this interview to hear him talk about this + a bunch of other cool things about his life!}

Detail of one of the scenes on the side of the little golden shrine, found in the Tomb of Tutankhamun. The scene is described as follows in the book “The Small Golden Shrine from the Tomb of Tutankhamun” by Marianne Eaton-Krauss:

Ankhesenamun anoints Tutankhamun

Tutankhamun sits on a high-backed, armless chair with lion legs. A patterned cushion covers not only the seat, but the back of the chair as well. The design of the chair includes the “union of the Two Lands” motif in open-work between the legs above the strut. The king’s attitude, with his elbow resting on the chair back, is a mirror image of CR4. His feet, which are unshod, rest on a low footstool.

The king wears the same kilt, with the addition of a crimped sash and sporran, as in all the other panels on the shrine. His costume includes wristlets, armlets, a broad collar, and a shebyu-necklace. An unusual feature is the depiction of the rectangular clap at the nape of the neck, a detail sometimes included when the necklace is displayed but not usually shown when it is depicted worn. The blue crown with uraeus and streamers completes the king’s regalia. A vulture hovers protectively above and behind the king’s head. The shen-sign held in its talons is augmented by the addition of an ankh. In front of the king’s face is written:

“the Perfect God, Nebkheperure, Son of Re, Tutankhamun, Ruler of Upper Egyptian Heliopolis, give life like Re.”

Behind the throne one reads:

“all protection of life is around him like Re”

The queen stands before her husband and inclines towards him. With her far hand, she touches his far upper arm. In the other hand, she elevates above her shoulder a footed dish containing a garlanded ointment cone. Draped over the cone are two lotus blossoms: two more blossoms and three buds hand behind her hand, presumably to be understood as also held in it.

Ankhesenamun, like her husband, is barefoot. Her jewelry includes wristlets, a broad collar, and a stirrup earring with dangling pendants. She wears the Nubian wig with an elaborate uraeus diadem, as in CR 4, and with streamers. Her modius is adorned with a frieze of uraei with sun disks; a garlanded ointment cone sits at its centre, flanked by four feathers. Two vertical columns of hieroglyphs behind the queen identify her as:

“hereditary princess, great in favours, Mistress of Upper and Lower Egypt, possessor of charm, sweet of love, the great wife of the king, beloved of him, Lady of the Two Lands, Ankhesenamun, may she live forever and ever.”

Three Questions

Prompt: What was it like to love him? What was it like to be loved in return? What was it like to lose him?

Pairing: Lin x reader

Warning(s): Angst, cussing, and mentions of sex (the closest I’ll ever do to a Lin smut, tbh).

A/n: Oh boy, here we are at Day 3 of the write-a-thon). This was the prompt (and the AU one too) that I was looking forward to the most and made me decide to participate. Rather than a book, I decided to choose my favorite poem of all time (which is also what my blog is named after) by Lang Leav. I adapted the poem into a story. I hope you guys enjoy!


 

What was it like to love him? Asked Gratitude.

You sigh when you spot a figure slouched over a desk, their soft snores disturbing the silence of the library. It was a common sight to see a student asleep at the library, regardless of what day of the week it was. There were always going to be students cramming for a test or starting an assignment due the next day that would fall asleep from exhaustion. Upon closer inspection, you realize he wasn’t a student – his face was too mature and clothes too nice to be a fellow peer.

However, like the old saying goes: you don’t have to go home, you just can’t stay here. The library was closing in five minutes and after a full day of classes before coming straight to work, you were ready to go home and relax.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt, but the library is closing soon,” you say, gently shaking the sleeping man’s shoulder.

He groans and brushes away your hand before going back to sleep.

You scoff and try again. “Please don’t make me call campus security on you, sir.”

At the mention of the authorities, he groans but lifts his head from the book he was resting his head on. He wipes the drool from the corner of his lips and blinks up owlishly at you. “What time is it?” he murmurs.

Your breath catches at his voice, low and gravelly with sleep. You were always a sucker for attractive voices, and this stranger just happened to have the kind you loved the most.

“It’s almost 3 A.M.,” you say, watching as his eyes grow wide, “the library is closing now.”

He jumps up from his seat and stuffs his notebook and laptop into his backpack. “I’m so sorry, I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“No, it’s alright, it happens all the time,” you assure him.

He sighs in relief and picks up the book on the table, which to your surprise, had an interesting topic that was very dear to your heart.

“A book about the first treasury secretary?” you muse, “Either you’re a history major or have a very weird taste in books.”

He grins. “I guess I’m the latter.”

You snort at his answer and watch as he heads for the exit after wishing you a good night.

-

To your surprise, he was back the next day. You were pushing a cart of books, returning them to their respective spots, when you see him huddled in an alcove. This time, more books about Alexander Hamilton were accompanied with books about James Madison and Thomas Jefferson.

“The Southern Democratic-Republicans?” you laugh, “you do know that they didn’t get along with Hamilton, right?”

His head jerks up from his notebook on his lap, eyeing you intensely. “I do. The question is, how do you know?”

You try not to squirm under his gaze. “I’m a History major with a focus in American History.”

A smile slowly spreads across his face. “Well, what are the odds,” he laughs, the sound making your stomach flutter, “mind if I bother you with a few questions?”

You clutch the handle of the cart tightly, feeling nervous and excited. “Only if you tell me what’s it for.”

His smile gets bigger. “I’m writing a musical about Alexander Hamilton.”

You push the cart aside. “I’m in.”

He chuckles and scoots over, patting the empty space next to him. You step around his books and take the spot.

“My name is Lin-Manuel, but you can call me Lin,” he says warmly, sticking his hand out for you to shake.

You take his hand, trying not to shake from his proximity and the tingling sensation of desire that you felt for him. You were always the type that fell too easily and too fast, a recipe for disaster, but the sincerity and friendliness that you saw in his eyes made you believe that maybe, this time would be different.

“My name is Y/N. It’s lovely to meet you, Lin.”

It was like being exhumed. And brought to life in a flash of brilliance.



 

What was it like to be loved in return? Asked Joy.

It was during one of your writing sessions with Lin, weeks after meeting, that he first kissed you.

You were explaining to him Alexander’s childhood struggles, the challenges that he endured as he rose his way to the top, and the bizarre parallel of his life to Aaron Burr’s.  When he was still silent after you finished, you became worried. Was it too much? Did he need you to clarify a specific part?

Your fears melted away once you saw the tender look on his face.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, brushing away a stray hair that escaped from your bun. Without another word, he leaned forward and captured your lips for a kiss. You whimpered, and it spurred him on, his hands cupping your head to kiss you deeper.

Your heart did cartwheels, happy that he felt the same way towards you. The lingering stares, how his hands would purposely brush against yours when you both looked over a book, and how he’d rest his arms on your shoulders and lean towards you when you’d talk… It was all because he adored you too.

Your first kiss with Lin awakened something delicious – a dangerous spark that made your body hum in excitement.

From then on, Lin would wine and dine you in the late hours of the night, conversations about Alexander Hamilton long forgotten. You shared your dreams, your struggles, stories about your childhood with each other.

The spark ignited a flame, an even more hazardous burn that made your heart and soul feel alive.

During the nights where he felt adventurous, he’d fuck you hard against the bookshelves, whispering dirty words in your ears as he covered your mouth with his hands to muffle your moans. Most of the time, however, he’d take his time loving you in a bed, staring deep into your eyes as he thrust into you.

You press your cheek against his damp chest, relishing in the afterglow of sex.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words feeling so natural, so true.

Lin’s hand slides down to rest on the curve of your back and presses you closer to him.

“I love you too.”

It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.


 

What was it like to lose him? Asked Sorrow.

It was a rare weekend where you didn’t spend time with Lin, so you decided to go grocery shopping – a task that you haven’t had time for since your whirlwind romance began.

You were quietly humming the tune to one of Lin’s songs as you pondered over which fruit you wanted to buy: oranges or apples?

“Honey, didn’t I tell you to take it easy? Stop lifting heavy things, you know it’s not good for the baby.”

Your lips quirk up in a smile at the conversation, finding it adorable how affectionate the husband was to his wife. For a brief second, you let yourself daydream, imagining a baby girl that had Lin’s curious eyes and your hair or a boy that had his nose and your penchant for learning.

“Lin, I’m the one carrying the baby. Don’t you think I know what’s good and not good for him?”

Lin?

“I know but – “

There was no mistaking it.

That was his voice.  

You whirl around, dropping your basket of groceries when you see the scene before you.

Lin was standing next to his obviously pregnant wife, softly reprimanding her as she lifted a watermelon from the display.

Lin had a wife… and a baby on the way.

Your world came crashing down on you.

Lately, you’ve had a strange feeling in your gut, as if something big was looming over the horizon, whenever you spent time with Lin. You chalked it off and blamed it on your inexperience, your insecurity, and fear of loving someone so much for the first time in your life.

But now it all made sense.

He’d insist on spending nights in hotel rooms or even your own apartment, claiming that his apartment was too small and cluttered, failing to mention the fact that he had another woman waiting for him in his bed. He’d always spend time with you late at night until early dawn (you thought it was sweet that he worked around your schedule), never during the day. But truthfully, it was the perfect time where he could escape from his pregnant wife. You thought that his habit of touching his ring finger with his thumb was endearing – a quirky trait that made Lin so cute and special – but now you realize it was because the weight of his wedding ring was no longer there.

You felt sick.

You stagger backward, hitting the fruit display, causing a heap of apples to tumble to the ground.

A single apple rolled towards them, stopping their conversation, and Lin looks up to see the cause of the runaway fruit.

You stood there, frozen, as a flash of recognition danced across his eyes.

It really was him.

To your horror, he didn’t acknowledge you. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his wife and leads her further into the grocery store, leaving you behind without a second glance.

His stories, laughter, and declarations of love were all lies.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces.

You were a fool.

It was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me – said all at once.

Thank You

Title: Thank You

Characters: Negan x You/Reader

Synopsis: Negan promised to spend an entire day with you but falls asleep instead.

Warnings: Slight dirty talk (just a little), other than that, it’s pure fluff

Note: Negan fluff coming through! Needed a break from all the dirty smut I’ve been writing so here’s a short one-shot of sleepy Negan. Posting a request soon! :)

Negan promised to spend an entire with you to make it up for his absence for the past few days. He had been so busy running things in the Sanctuary and dealing with other communities that he was barely seen in his wives’ lounge or even in his room. Being the only wife who actually adored him, you looked forward to that day. So, when you heard about his arrival, you didn’t waste any more time and went straight to his bedroom to welcome him back…only to find him fast asleep.

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welcometomomuniverse  asked:

Hi, I'm doing some research right now in regards to fans imagining of harry potter. you were the first blog i found to suggest the idea that harry could be Indian. Do you have any specific headcanons in regards to this? Or what it means to you to have him be Indian? It's okay if you're not comfortable answering. Thanks.

This is a really great idea! I hope your research goes well. 

Well I began to imagine Harry as being half Indian because Harry as a character reminds me of my brother (who like me is half Indian). I always saw him as looking sort of like Dan in terms of skin colour and hair colour. 

It was only through Tumblr that I really started to look more deeply into it. A lot of people had Harry as mixed race in their minds and seeing all that art and those ideas allowed me to explore my own thoughts on it. 

Reading the books again (I read them at least once a year), I realised how meaningful it was that the Dursleys had never liked or approved of James Potter. They seemed to see Lily as having lowered herself by marrying him. To me, as a child of an Indian father and English mother, I KNOW that reaction very well. Sometimes it’s not said, but it’s implied and it gets to you. People called James lazy and basically hinted that he wasn’t good enough for Lily (Snape and Petunia mostly) which is a sure sign he was brown, because as far as I can see James was a good man who adored his wife and son. A lot of people will unfortunately always go out of their way to try and make brown men look bad. Not to mention that Snape’s superiority complex was so deep that I find it hard to believe that it just came from the fact James was cruel to him at school. I honestly believe it was partly because Snape held racist beliefs (at least when he was younger). He never could take it that Lily had chosen James over him. 

The stuff about Harry’s dark, messy hair seemed to fit too, because in our family we all have dark hair that curls. My brother’s hair curls if it grows long enough, and my dad has really thick dark hair as well. 

Then there’s how the Dursleys used to try and hide Harry’s appearance from the neighbours, which implied he looked noticeably different to his family. I always got the impression the Durselys and their neighbours were UKIP sort of people. You know, the sort who wouldn’t say they were racist but would be suspicious if they saw a brown person in a shop. 

I know the reason the Dursleys don’t tell Harry about James is because of the magic, but I also like to think that part of the reason was that they wanted to bring him up like a ‘nice English boy’ and keep him from his father’s culture. Everything about them screams trying desperately to make Harry ‘normal’ and to them ‘normal’ would probably mean trying to erase his links to his heritage. He might have found power and solace in that, and they wouldn’t have wanted that.

There’s also the fact that before James was murdered, he was making sparks of light fly from his wand to make baby Harry laugh. In 1981 (the year of the murders) Diwali would have fallen on October 27th, which is only 3 days before Halloween, when James was making the sparks. I personally feel this could have been to do with Diwali, since it is the festival of lights. 

Last (that I can think of right now) is how Harry’s eyes always stand out to people. They are obviously striking, and I think him being brown skinned and dark haired and having his mother’s green eyes would make that more prominent. My brother has green-ish eyes (inherited from our mother), despite the fact most of our Indian family (me included) all have dark brown. It’s definitely noticeable and something you might comment on. 

Thanks for the question by the way! These aren’t all my original headcanons, but I can’t really source them because they’ve come about through reading the ideas of lots of people and forming my own ideas for Harry through them. 

xxx

headcanon: Gerard and Amélie went as Gomez and Morticia Addams to a Blackwatch Halloween bash. Gerard basically used their costumes as an excuse to fulsomely and publically adore his wife, and his antics led to Gabriel nearly laughing punch up his nose.

@hello-shellhead messaged me yesterday about an idea for an AU based of the music video Genghis Khan and I hadn’t watched it before. So when I did, I instantly jumped at the idea because the song is really good and the video is so wonderful. So Gina and I talked about how it could possibly go and now it’s being turned into a post!

Tony is an evil genius who is constantly having his plans thwarted by Steve, who is a secret. The two of them have been enemies for a long time now but have actually developed a relationship of where they’re like friends. They talk to each other every now and then, in the middle of fights or if the other is tied up. It happens so often that Tony finds that he gets happy whenever Steve tries to infiltrate his lair, a small smile on his face as he sees his henchman bring Steve to him in cuffs. 

Outside of his evil life, Tony has a home life with a wife, Whitney, and two kids. He goes home every day, plays with his kids that he adores ( Peter and Harley), and eating dinner with his wife that he doesn’t love. Tony knows that he’s unhappy in his marriage, has known this for a long time but a part of him is so scared to leave it because this marriage is safe and what he knows. So every night, while Whitney sleeps, he stays awake and thinks about the possible lives he could be living. One person comes into his mind, blonde hair and blue eyes, and Tony shakes his head. He rejects the thought because the two of them could never be together, they’re too different. 

Steve was good and he was evil. 

What he didn’t know was that Steve was having a same thought, thousands of miles away as he stared out of his hotel room in Istanbul. 

The two of them meet again when Tony manages to lure Steve back to his lair to finish him off. He has Steve strapped to a metal table, a laser above and pointed at him, ready to kill. All Tony has to do is press the red button and Steve will be dead and gone, no longer ruining his plans. 

But he finds that he can’t do it and chooses to release Steve, stopping his henchman as they try to grab him. His feelings for Steve are deeper than he thought and he can’t imagine a life where Steve doesn’t exist in it. Whether it be foiling his schemes or talking to him like he isn’t one of the most dangerous people in the world. 

Steve almost makes a run for it but stops just as he’s at front entrance. He battles with his feelings for a moment, thinking that falling in love with Tony is absurd but it’s too late because it’s already happened. So he goes back and Tony is surprised to see him but by the soft and fond smile that Steve gives him, Tony knows that he’s no longer alone. 

Tony divorces Whitney (much to her rage), and starts a happier and better life with Steve and his kids. Tony has quit being a villain and lives contently in the life that he had once pictured for himself but didn’t think it was possible. But now he is living it. 

Whitney disappeared into the blue all of a sudden and while Tony and Steve live their lives, they don’t know that she has taken Tony’s place as a villain, quietly vowing to get Tony back. 

(We also thought that Tony wouldn’t have the golden nose but would have his arc reactor instead!)

This man is amazing. A wonderful and caring human being that according to everyone who knows him and works with him swears he is humble, funny, sweet, caring, and professional. To me, he is talented, handsome, and a joy to watch. I respect him, I love how much he seems to adore his wife, and I wish there were more people like him in Hollywood instead of some of the trash we see shoved in our face nowadays. I’m tired of people saying rude, nasty, spiteful, hateful comments against him. Either those people saying such things are jealous of him, or they are sick in the head and soul. He is a human being who plays a character on a movie screen. The fact he does it so well only attests to his ability as an actor. He is not a nazi or a racist or an abuser of helpless girls. That kind of craziness needs to stop. Or we need to start pumping prozac through the water supply. Just a thought. Adam, you are loved.

Where I Lay my Head

So Killian’s voice in ‘Sleeping Arrangements’ has taken on tentacles and consumed me. Here’s a little piece to tide you over.

Me: Honeymoon fluff!

Reality: Not even close.


She clings tight to him when its over, when she’s back from that wretched fairy’s hellhole and in his arms, and has seen her parents and son safe.

She clings tight to him and he does to her because she was in his bloody arms when the curse hit and then she wasn’t and he needs to feel her against him to breathe.

So really, at first he doesn’t think anything of it.

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The Broken Hearted Wife

Originally posted by suirisblack

Ivar x Reader


The day you’d been forced to marry Ivar you’d been heart broken. You adored your best friend, both you and Ivar knew that, it was a source of many jealous attempts to get rid of your friend to no avail. He had insisted on attending your friend’s wedding, practically dragging you there, demanding to be at the front of the crowd all the way through the day.

You stood at the water’s edge, watching your friend say goodbye to his wife, knowing Aslaug and Ivar was watching you somewhere out of your gaze. Just as you went to hurry to your friend and say goodbye Ivar seated himself next to you, glaring at the man.


“Such as shame.” Ivar sighed, glancing up at you.

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There was a girl, and her uncle sold her, wrote Mr. Ibis in his perfect copperplate handwriting.

That is the tale; the rest is detail.

There are stories that are true, in which each individual’s tale is unique and tragic, and the worst of the tragedy is that we have heard it before, and we cannot allow ourselves to feel it too deeply. We build a shell around it like an oyster dealing with a painful particle of grit, coating it with smooth pearl layers in order to cope. This is how we walk and talk and function, day in, day out, immune to others’pain and loss. If it were to touch us it would cripple us or make saints of us; but, for the most part, it does not touch us. We cannot allow it to.

Tonight, as you eat, reflect if you can: there are children starving in the world, starving in numbers larger than the mind can easily hold, up in the big numbers where an error of a million here, a million there, can be forgiven. It may be uncomfortable for you to reflect upon this or it may not, but still, you will eat.

There are accounts which, if we open our hearts to them, will cut us too deeply. Look — here is a good man, good by his own lights and the lights of his friends: he is faithful and true to his wife, he adores and lavishes attention on his little children, he cares about his country, he does his job punctiliously, as best he can. So, efficiently and good-naturedly, he exterminates Jews: he appreciates the music that plays in the background to pacify them; he advises the Jews not to forget their identification numbers as they go into the showers — many people, he tells them, forget their numbers, and take the wrong clothes, when they come out of the showers. This calms the Jews: there will be life, they assure themselves, after the showers. And they are wrong. Our man supervises the detail taking the bodies to the ovens; and if there is anything he feels bad about, it is that he still allows the gassing of vermin to affect him. Were he a truly good man, he knows, he would feel nothing but joy, as the earth is cleansed of its pests.

Leave him; he cuts too deep. He is too close to us and it hurts.

There was a girl, and her uncle sold her. Put like that it seems so simple.

No man, proclaimed Donne, is an Island, and he was wrong. If we were not islands, we would be lost, drowned in each others’tragedies. We are insulated (a word that means, literally, remember, made into an island) from the tragedy of others, by our island nature, and by the repetitive shape and form of the stories. We know the shape, and the shape does not change. There was a human being who was born, lived, and then, by some means or other, died. There. You may fill in the details from your own experience. As unoriginal as any other tale, as unique as any other life. Lives are snowflakes — unique in detail, forming patterns we have seen before, but as like one another as peas in a pod (and have you ever looked at peas in a pod? I mean, really looked at them? There’s not a chance you’d mistake one for another, after a minute’s close inspection.)

We need individual stories. Without individuals we see only numbers: a thousand dead, a hundred thousand dead, ‘casualties may rise to a million.’ With individual stories, the statistics become people — but even that is a lie, for the people continue to suffer in numbers that themselves are numbing and meaningless. Look, see the child’s swollen, swollen belly, and the flies that crawl at the corners of his eyes, his skeletal limbs: will it make it easier for you to know his name, his age, his dreams, his fears? To see him from the inside? And if it does, are we not doing a disservice to his sister, who lies in the searing dust beside him, a distorted, distended caricature of a human child? And there, if we feel for them, are they now more important to us than a thousand other children touched by the same famine, a thousand other young lives who will soon be food for the flies’own myriad squirming children?

We draw our lines around these moments of pain, and remain upon our islands, and they cannot hurt us. They are covered with a smooth, safe, nacreous layer to let them slip, pearl-like, from our souls without real pain.

Fiction allows us to slide into these other heads, these other places, and look out through other eyes. And then in the tale we stop before we die, or we die vicariously and unharmed, and in the world beyond the tale we turn the page or close the book, and we resume our lives.

A life, which is, like any other, unlike any other.

And the simple truth is this: there was a girl and her uncle sold her.
—  Neil Gaiman, American Gods

anonymous asked:

So from 208 we got that amazing scene of Jamie holding and talking to Kitty. My prompt is imagine Jamie holding and talking to Faith had she lived in that moment (or in Paris, you choose!) just Jamie taking care of his baby and his wife by staying up with the restless child! Thanks! Love your work!

“Please, Faith,” Claire pled in a whisper as she rocked the fussing six-month-old. “Your belly is full so please go back to sleep.”

Jamie slipped out of bed and crossed to where Claire sat near the fire, clearly exhausted, Faith squirming in her arms and pulling Claire’s hair as she rubbed her eyes with her fist.

“Let me take her, Sassenach,” Jamie offered already reaching and loosening Faith’s grip on Claire’s curls. “I cannae sleep anyhow.”

“Charles?” Claire asked, sighing with relief as the weight of Faith’s restlessness was lifted from her.

“I dinna ken how to approach him on this,” Jamie admitted, his large hand pressed to Faith’s back as she pressed her face to his shoulder and gnawed on his collarbone, her drool soaking his nightshirt. “He’s goin’ to ask me to gather support for him when we go back, I can feel it.”

“I thought the loss of the wine shipment was supposed to cripple his chances of raising the rebellion,” Claire remarked before groaning with satisfaction as she slipped back into bed and relaxed against the pillows.

“Aye well, God and the mission Charles believes He’s given him cannae be brushed aside so easily.” Jamie turned pressed his nose to the crown of Faith’s head. He found it easier to stifle the shaking rage that Charles Stuart inspired when he held Faith in his arms. She was what mattered––she and Claire were all that mattered. But how to explain such a feeling––an apparent change of heart––to a man like Charles Stuart…

“Tell him God spoke to you in a dream,” Claire said with a yawn. “Charles isn’t the only one whom God can speak to and if He gives you a vision of the Rising failing..”

Jamie chuckled and Faith began to croon her agreement. “I can just imagine how that conversation will go,” Jamie told Faith quietly as he glanced over and saw that Claire had already drifted off to sleep. “Well, yer highness, I cannae be a Jacobite any more. No, it’s no to do wi’ the charges against me being vacated, though I must admit I am grateful for how it’s turned out. Rather, the Lord in His mighty wisdom sent me a vision of what lies ahead should ye take to the field of battle in the near future. It will end with thousands of yer men dead for naught––for worse than naught. If they dinna fight they’d be no worse off than they are now but if they do ye will lose and when ye lose it’ll no be you who pays the price but all the people ye fail.”

Faith began to whimper and rub her face against Jamie’s neck. He cupped her head with his hand and rubbed his thumb soothingly against her temple. “Aye, it will be a sad day should that come to pass,” he agreed with her. He felt her chubby fist slide up his chest to her face and heard the quiet smack of her lips as she began to suck her thumb. The restlessness within her had begun to calm though he could tell she would simply lie against him in a half-awake stupor for some time yet, listening to the rhythm of his words as though he were telling her a story.

“If I’m honest… I dinna think there is a way to stop that wee fool from sailing to Scotland and making his mess… I only hope to keep his foolishness from somehow touching us and Lallybroch… in so far as it’s possible.” Jamie sighed.

He’d come so close to losing everything but time had miraculously worked in his favor. If he had left five minutes sooner or Claire had stayed at l’hopital five minutes later that fateful day, they would have missed each other. He’d have gone to the woods and met Randall, swords drawn. Whether either of them would have died or they both would simply have landed in the Bastille, Jamie only knew with certainty that he likely would have lost both Faith and Claire forever.

Instead, Claire had been in the doorway of their room when he’d finished scrawling his apologetic note. She’d refused to move and forced him to explain what had happened, her hand pressing tighter and tighter circles into her swollen belly as he spoke. She’d asked about Fergus––where was he, had he been examined, was he all right––and Jamie had seen the fear and anger in Claire’s face, felt the shame rise in his own even as he grew frustrated that he was being delayed.

Then Claire had collapsed and getting her to l’hopital was all that he could think about calling for Fergus to come along and help him, Randall forgotten until Claire was settled and her bleeding was under control and his temper had cooled enough for Claire to convince him to have Randall arrested for what he’d done to Fergus.

Everything that happened in the weeks and months after he’d filed the report with the gendarme had been a blur, the passage of time between them marked by Faith’s birth and development. Word of Randall’s arrest and indefinite imprisonment had come as the fear for Claire and Faith faded in the days after her risky birth. Murtagh had arrived back in Paris when it was finally decided Claire and Faith could leave l’hopital and return to the house. The news of Randall’s situation had spread to England by the time Faith had started smiling so all three Frasers grinned when a letter reached them from Ned Gowan that, in the wake of the scandalous tale, he had sought out the Duke of Sandringham to see if one of the additional copies he’d made of Jamie’s petition of complaint might prove more successful in completing its journey than the first; the Duke was only too happy to be of assistance. Faith had just started sleeping through the night when Claire had word from Mary Hawkins about how Jonathan Randall’s disgrace had brought Alex Randall back into his family’s good graces; they hoped her godfather could help convince their respective families to allow their marriage within the year. And now that Faith was cutting her first tooth, word that the petition of complaint had succeeded and the charges against Jamie had been vacated had arrived; they could return to Scotland in time for Christmas.

Yet when he’d shown the letter to Claire he had struggled to understand the weight he still felt on his shoulders, the shadow he couldn’t explain.

“You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop,” she had told him while in the process of changing Faith’s clout. “We still don’t know if we’ve done enough to change things and without the certainty…” She’d looked to the gold ring on her finger. Randall was in the Bastille and it didn’t look like he’d be getting out anytime soon and if he did, it was unlikely he’d be marrying Mary Hawkins, yet Claire still had her gold ring.

He was back to pacing the darkened room slowly, the damp of Faith drooling into his shirt slowly spreading.

“I’m glad ye’re too small to ken how scared I am of such a wee fool,” he murmured into the top of Faith’s head. “But I plan to protect you and yer mother from any danger, even that posed by wee fools… and fools like Charles Stuart can be the most dangerous of all, believing they’re about God’s work when it’s other men’s lives they’re risking. I promise we’ll no be leaving France until I can be sure our place in Scotland is truly safe, that Charles Stuart and his half-baked schemes cannae burn us.”

Faith’s soggy thumb left her mouth long enough for her hand to find it’s way to Jamie’s chin. He smiled and raised a hand to press the delicate fingers to his lips, feeling her smile against his shoulder. She sighed heavily and reinserted the thumb in her mouth, her body relaxing further until she was limp with sleep.

“If I cannae convince Charles to give up the Rising, I’ll just have to make my true allegiance clear,” Jamie whispered, rubbing Faith’s back as he crossed to settle her in her cradle. She looked like Claire when she slept, her hair long enough now to start curling around her ear. Afraid the feathery strands would tickle and wake her, he tucked them behind and let his finger trace the round of her cheek, lightly touch the tip of her nose which wrinkled in response.

The restored calm in the room seeped into him as well. He lifted the covers and crawled back into bed with Claire, her cold bare feet finding the warmth of his legs in moments.

Having an English wife he adored should be a good start toward proving he wasn’t the staunch Jacobite he’d been playing at the last few months.

Draping an arm across Claire’s waist and pulling her closer, Jamie pushed his fears out of his mind and into the shadows where they could lurk until morning.

2

New interviews:  Alex opens up about Big Little Lies with The Hollywood Reporter and Entertainment Weekly!

WARNING: These interviews contains spoilers from the Big Little Lies season finale. Read at your own risk!

From The Hollywood Reporter:

The actor talks to THR about working with Nicole Kidman and that “brilliant” finale death.

“It’s obviously a huge problem in our society,” Skarsgard tells The Hollywood Reporter about the domestic violence storyline.

Skarsgard spoke further with THR about the importance of exploring Perry and Celeste’s relationship, the violent and “emotionally draining scenes” they shared and his character’s “brilliant” demise.

The Hollywood Reporter:  The show explores the real-life issue and severity of domestic abuse, violence and rape. Your character, Perry, is the abuser in these cases. Going into the role, what was your thought process on how to tackle these stories and portray this character?

Alex:  I thought it was such a rich script and the tone felt very unique. It felt like such an emotional roller coaster that I thought was brilliantly written. In terms of the character, I saw it as an opportunity to play an abusive husband who wasn’t this stereotypical abusive husband. It was such a well-fleshed out relationship and the dynamic between Perry and Celeste was fascinating to me. I saw it as an opportunity to find a character where you see him struggle with his demons as opposed to being the traditional wife-beater.

THR:  What makes him not the stereotypical abusive husband?

Alex:  She fell in love with this innocent kid that he’s got within him. In a way, he is like his sons. He’s a very social, outgoing guy and loves to have fun. In those moments, those demons are hidden far within him and then they come out. You do see that he’s struggling with it. He can’t control it. They just take over and consume him. What I thought was interesting about their relationship is it ties in with their sexuality as well and that makes it more difficult to leave him. She blames herself and says, “I’m an accomplice. I’m part of this.” When we have sex, it is very violent and I love that, but then she [thinks] “Maybe I push him too far.” Which she doesn’t, but she blames herself for it and feels that, deep down, he’s a good guy and a great dad and loves her and [she] can fix him and that he just has to deal with those demons. But he can’t. That’s what’s killing him inside. He can’t control it.

THR:  The abuse scenes are very violent. How difficult were those for you to shoot?

Alex:  They were really tough to shoot. Jean-Marc works in a way where it’s more like shooting a play than shooting a movie. It’s not traditional filmmaking in the sense where you have the master and two-shot and then you move in for coverage. There are no tape marks on the floor. It’s all existing lights and a handheld camera that roams around which is a great opportunity as an actor to explore this space and play around and find new things. One take can be very different from the previous. That really helped those scenes.

Nicole and I got to know each other really well before we started the project and spent time together and worked on our relationship. We just got to know each other. We both felt it was very important that when we step into that room and shoot those scenes, you have to get to a place of 100 percent trust. The scenes were emotionally and physically so draining. They’re incredibly hard to shoot. It was more about getting to know each other  and spending time together and working on that trust. And talking about their relationship and figuring out the nice part about these characters and how they connect and why they fell in love, what’s holding them together. We wanted to find that. We played the whole scene from beginning to end. We weren’t restricted by any tape marks on the floor or any technical issues. It was very primal in a way and some of the toughest scenes I’ve ever had to shoot. It was completely emotionally draining.

THR:  Nicole has spoken about how physically and emotionally draining they were for her. Have you spoken with her about that?

Alex:  It was important every day after shooting a scene like that to check in with each other and make sure that we would reconnect and talk about how we felt about it and what we went through. We both knew that jumping in your car and going home after a scene like that is very tough. You need to share that connection with the person you just went through that with. I had the best partner in the world with Nicole in doing that. She’s not only an extraordinary actress, but such a warm and generous person. That made it be even more difficult. 

THR:  How important is it to tell this story of domestic abuse on television?

Alex:  It’s very important. It’s obviously a huge problem in our society. It’s stigmatized. [Wives] are protective of their husbands and in certain cases they blame themselves and say, “It takes two to tango. I’m partly responsible for this.” They don’t really see themselves as victims sometimes. It’s not until you talk to someone outside that you can get an outside perspective and you realize then, “This is an abusive relationship that I shouldn’t be in.” It’s important to reach out and to have someone help you and talk to someone who can get you out of it. It’s not your responsibility to change another person.

THR:  Perry is obviously dead. What’s your take on the ending for your character?

Alex:  I love that they all gang up on him and kill him, in a way, together. It gets very primal and they’re all over him and kill him together in order to protect Celeste. It felt like something out of a nature documentary where you see a predator being attacked by smaller predators and by the sheer force of numbers they take him down. That’s what I had in my head where I was physically stronger than them as individuals, but together they brought me down. (Laughs.) I thought it was brilliant. 

THR:  What was filming that scene like?

Alex:  It was tough. It’s a very physical moment. But it was exciting and fun because we were all together. Up until that point, it had been a lot of separate stories. Those ladies are amazing women and so much fun to be around. So it was a fun two weeks of night shoots with all of them. We were all excited about the ending and how it all comes together. 
Big Little Lies finale: Alexander Skarsgård on why he may never get another job

THR:  What were the conversations with Jean-Marc like about who Perry is and how he reaches his fate in the end?

Alex:  I liked that the introduction to the family was dream like. It’s exactly what you want. They have beautiful kids, an amazing house, a great job, everything is perfect and then you crack the surface and see there’s a lot of darkness there. We were both excited about an opportunity to play this character who can be charming and a great dad, but there’s a switch and the lights go out and he’s not himself. With the camera watching the women in the very last scene, it leaves the ending open-ended. It’s Perry in his Elvis outfit, but with a broken neck up on the beach watching them. (Laughs.) It’s payback time. He’s back from the dead and it’s time for revenge. Season two will just be him killing them all off. (Laughs.)

THR:  Could there be more episodes? 

Alex:  It was set up as a miniseries. That was always the intention to leave it with them on the beach and living with this secret and accepting that and moving on with their lives. It leaves it open-ended in a way, but there’s no cliffhanger for another season or anything. 

Article source:  Brian Porreca for TheHollywoodReporter.com (x) via THR twitter (x)

From Entertainment Weekly:

As you probably know by now, Alexander Skarsgård’s Perry Wright died at the end of the seventh episode of Big Little Lies. Some might call it murder, some might prefer the ladies’ explanation that he fell to his death. Either way, Skarsgard made for an excellent villain. Regardless of the hate he inspired because of how he treated his wife, he also wanted to change and really did love Celeste. Those were some dark demons residing inside of him, demons he was unable to exorcise, regardless of how he tried.

We talked to Skarsgard about his character, the challenges of playing him, and why he’s pretty sure he’s not going to be working again in Hollywood anytime soon.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: Your storyline with Nicole Kidman was one of the most compelling in the show. What was your first reaction when you read the scripts?

ALEXANDER SKARSGÅRD: I was very excited. I thought the tone was so unique. It’s funny and twisted and camp and then really dark and twisted. The pendulum would swing back and forth between different tones. I was very intrigued by the relationship between Celeste and Perry. I thought it was an opportunity to tell a story about an abusive husband that wasn’t a stereotypical wife-beater. I thought it was fascinating that he was a good dad, loves his kids, and adores his wife. On the surface, they have a perfect life and then he’s struggling with these demons and he doesn’t know how to handle that. It’s almost like a switch flips and he goes black and he goes violent.

EW:  The intimacy between your character and Nicole’s is really intense, both the violence and the sex. How did you two approach that? Was it difficult?

Alex:  We had some time to get to know each before we started filming. It was important to build that trust and understanding, knowing this journey we were about to embark on. It is a very physical relationship. It’s the envy of most people when they first see this couple. It’s too good to be true. The kids, the house, the sex, everything. There is more to it than that. It muddles the line because their sex life is violent and they both get off on it. It makes it difficult for her to draw the line, for her to feel that he’s abusive, because she feels like an accomplice. But there is a difference between liking it rough in the bed and pure abuse which he crosses that line early on. It’s tough and I think that’s what makes it interesting on a character level. Because it’s tough for her to move and to accept the fact that he’s bad for her and the kids. There is a lot of love. She loves him when he’s not abusive. In those moments he’s great. And that’s what makes it an interesting story.

EW:  Career-wise, what did you think about when you took this part?

Alex: I have a feeling this is going to be my last interview ever (laughs) because after Perry Wright, I’ll never get another job. But, hell, it was worth it.

EW:  Why do you think that? Because he’s such a monster?

Alex:  (Laughs) Yeah. I’ll never play leading man, that’s for sure.

EW:  So, you’ve typecast yourself?

Alex:  Sure, but if you ever need an abusive asshole, I’m your guy (laughs).

EW:  Did you take that into account when you signed on?

Alex:  Nah, I don’t ever think about that. I played a guy who had sex with an underage teenage girl in Diary of a Teenage Girl. I’m either drawn to material or I’m not. It’s a visceral reaction. There isn’t a strategy to it. I don’t think about what it’s going to do to my career. I always know instinctively if I’m right for something or I’m not. If I’m not intrigued by the character, I shouldn’t do it. In this case, it was easy. The material was so well written. It was such a fascinating character, albeit incredibly, incredibly dark. And I was drawn to him. He wasn’t a one-dimensional bad guy. It was very interesting. In the same way Monroe in Diary of a Teenage Girl wasn’t a typical bad guy. He was a soft, sweet guy and there was a lot of darkness there as well. I guess I’m drawn to that. That’s all I’ve got. When I read something, if I don’t want to learn more about that character, it’s not going to be something for me. 

Article Source:  Nicole Sperling for EW.com (x) via EW twitter (x)

Photo credit:  bradleycramp instagram (x): "The Perfect Family" (lol!)