she uses the word love more than i do

Just sayin’ my wife and I just spent almost four hours going down a rabbit hole of nostalgic music from the late nineties and early aughts, and we danced in our underwear and we sang along and had the most lovely night together and I’m not saying this to brag (although I love my wife very much and I’m very lucky) but just to remind you that if you want to find a person whose brand of weird matches your own, you absolutely will. I still knew every word of Evanescence’s “My Immortal,” and– instead of making fun of me like kids in school used to do– baby looked at me and said she never loved me more than she did while listening to that song with me. If you’re young and things are hard, just remember that those hard times are going to come around. Someday you’ll be laughing about it with someone you love.

anonymous asked:

I just don't believe Sarah has real health problems. She supposedly had a sinus thing but it didn't keep her from flying to Greece for vacation. She says she can't personalize books but somehow she can sign hundreds of them for preorders and for all the people buying tickets to events? She's just not willing to meet with readers anymore, even for photos and stamping. I've been with her since the beginning and this hurts.

I’ve been wrestling with whether or not I should even publish/respond to this ask because I don’t generally endorse contributing to drama in our fandom. 

I may still delete this ask. 

But basically my thoughts are as follows:

1. If I had a sinus infection but got antibiotics or other treatment fuck if that would stop me from travelling. I had invasive surgery in 2016 and a few weeks later went to Europe for a week (I live in the US so that’s a far, stressful trip). If you truly love travelling, like Sarah very obviously does, sickness (esp something minor like sinus stuff that can generally be treated easily) won’t stop you unless your doctor forbids you from going (and even then… maybe not). 

2. I believe the point of not personalizing books is minimizing the pressure to her wrist. Like, she can sign a lot but adding personalized detail doubles or even triples the work on her wrist since that includes way more words than her signature. She likes to write a little sentence in addition to your name (it’s what she used to do) because she’s sweet and likes to talk to fans as long as she can. She even has her own book that fans can sign. 

3. Please respect that authors are people. I have extremely bad anxiety and depression and if I had to deal with that many fans, especially when writers don’t often get as popular as SJM, I would eventually burn out if I didn’t check myself.  I’m just saying that if Sarah isn’t meeting with fans as much maybe there’s a reason. Maybe she doesn’t live her life only for us (even though she loves us and says it all the time! Even though she appreciates us! That doesn’t mean she has to be there ALL THE TIME for all of the millions that buy her books! She’s a person with needs and she’s allowed to take breaks!). She has a marriage and a dog and more books to write and health problems to deal with. Even if it’s just sinus stuff and a sore wrist, health issues are stressful AF especially combined with any mental health issues or other issues. Anyway my point here is, Sarah isn’t just an author who loves her fans. She’s a person with a life that we don’t (and shouldn’t!) know everything about.

Thanks for reading and please know that I’m not saying OP is an awful person for being upset that SJM isn’t as interactive anymore. We’re all allowed to be upset and sad! We love her! But just please remember that she’s just a human being, like us. 

Help Me Get The Girl Part 10 (Grayson Mini-Series)

Description: Grayson seeks out your help to get your friend to fall for him.  In exchange for your help, Grayson promises to take care of your freshman brother when it comes to being bullied.  What you two didn’t know is that even though helping each other would ideally be beneficial, there would be a series of events that would make you two question whether this was a good deal or a disaster in the making.

Word Count: 2,563

Warnings: Language.

A/N:   Here is part 10 and it is one that I really enjoyed writing so I’m interested in seeing your feedback!  As a reminder Y/l/n means your last name!  As usual, Happy Reading and I hope you enjoy it!

And to those who are staying up late to read it… THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU!

Your Pov:

Grayson’s hands worked their way into my hair, slightly tugging my head to deepen the kiss.  I allowed myself to melt against him, my body slumping into his hold, knowing that he was prepared to trap me between his arm and his torso.   His tongue slipped into my mouth as a growl rumbled through his chest and up his throat, causing his lips to vibrate against mine.  

“Grayson, I can’t…” I mumbled against his smooth lips, allowing him to continue to kiss me.

“Give me one reason to stop.” his voice whispered as his lips moved to my neck, sucking and biting every bit of the surface he passed.

Closing my eyes I responded, “Ethan.”

The warmth of his body moved away from me, his wild eyes focused on me, “Ethan?  What does Ethan have to do with this?” he asked, his hands on my arms to hold me in place.

That was a good question!  What did Ethan have to do with it?  Why did his name escape my lips without my brain processing it first?  Ethan was my best friend, but that in no way should be stopping what was happening between Grayson and I.  But, here I was, stopping Gray not because of Grace, not because of my own personal morals, but because of Ethan.

I tried to blink away my own confusion, probably looking like a confused child as I did so, but this wasn’t an issue that had ever clouded my mind.  So, my first instinct, the instinct I always follow when initially confronted by an uncomfortable or upsetting situation, was to run, and I did just that–I ran.

“Can you take me home?” I asked, my voice sounding unsure.

He stuttered a bit before reluctantly giving in, “If that’s what you really want.” his arms dropped to his side, defeat flashing across his face.

I gave him a soft smile, “I don’t know what I want and that’s why I need to go home.  But, Grayson, I think it’s the same for you.  You don’t know what you want,” he moved to talk but I held up a hand to stop him, “Grace has always been your main priority and now all of a sudden you’re acting like I’m important to you?  Grayson, this isn’t fair for either of us, we can’t do this unless we’re sure, and the truth is… we both aren’t even close to being sure right now.  So, I ask again, please take me home.”

And he did.


When I got home I was welcomed by the horrifically angry faces of my parents who were fully ready to hand me a platter of shut the hell up and sit down.  Without a word being spoken from either of us, I sat myself down on the couch with my eyes cast to the floor like a submissive wolf.

My father stepped in front of me first, his black work shoes coming into view; a scowl crossed my face, but I was still calm.  But, then my mother approached and that’s when my pulse picked up.  I loved and respected my mother more than anything and that woman truly could scare me into doing whatever she wanted when she was mad.  And right now, telling by the heat I could feel radiating off of her, she was a woman on fire.

“I want to swear at you SO bad!” she growled, pacing back and forth.  “Like even the F word, Y/n.  THE F WORD!  I WANT TO SAY IT!”  I attempted to lift my eyes to look at them properly but when I did she quit pacing, captured my eyes and glared straight into the deepest parts of my soul.

I held up my hands defensively, “Okay, now I know what I did wasn’t appropriate, but…”

“You busted through the detention doors, stocked over to Matt, and slammed his face against his desk.  You broke his nose.  Did you know that?  You broke his damn nose!” my mom grilled me as her hands made a gesture like she wanted to strangle me.

“I may have taken it a bit far, but that prick only got detention for what he did to Theo!” I explained myself, but I knew the response I was about to get.

My mom’s face held an expression that said, ‘I’ll grab onto your hair and drag you.’ Luckily, my father stepped in front of her, “Y/n, the issue is, we are in the process of pressing charges against Matt and you doing this gave them something to hold against us.  I know that you’re upset, we all are, but to have you do this and end up being suspended-”

“SUSPENDED?” I cut him off with a sharp screech.

“Yes, Y/n, suspended!  While I appreciate that you were standing up for your brother, you have made matters worse and shown a side that no one knew existed!” my mom took a deep breath before taking a seat next to me, “I love you, sweetie.  I love you so much, but you can’t let yourself get lost in your emotions; it will only eat you up until it reaches your core, and then what do you have left?”

What she had just said related to more things in my life than she could imagine.  I was slowly becoming a ball of wrecked feelings and it was taking over every aspect of my life.  If I could just turn it all off for a day I would, but I’m human and humans were born to bear pain, happiness, and confliction.  All of which were currently sitting on my plate set at the table of doom.

“I’m sorry, mom and dad, but I couldn’t let him get away with just detention.  I mean, I get suspended for breaking his nose but all he gets for putting Theo in the hospital is detention?  That’s bullshit and you know it!”

“It is, you’re right.” she put her arm around me, pulling me into a comforting side hug.  The tension in me started to drift away until she said, “You’re still grounded though.”

Throwing my head back I accepted my fate, “For how long?”

“Two weeks and no Ethan.  The only time you’re leaving the house is for school and to visit your brother in the hospital.” my father stated for her, a smirk plastered on his face.

I stood up abruptly, “That’s not fair!  No Ethan?  What kind of punishment is that?” I whined like a child.

My mother stood up, measuring only a couple inches taller than me, “It is fair, because last time you were grounded, he snuck over each night which basically took away the meaning of being grounded.”

“He came over once.” I lied through my clenched teeth.

“You’re lying.” my mother argued.  “I know he was here more than that.”

“No you don’t.  How would you know?” my defiance slid through my skin, reaching out to push back at my mom’s words.

“I heard him.” she swerved her head like a snake.

“Sure,” I rolled my eyes, “Don’t you think if I snuck someone in, I would be quiet?”

She gulped, but I know it wasn’t because of what I said.  Instead of looking like I had just beat her in the battle, she looked like she was fighting a cringe, her body rippling with a shiver before she walked away.  

I looked up at my father in confusion.  He and I had a strong bond and were very open with each other, but I didn’t know what we were open enough for him to say to me what he said next…

“The walls are paper thin, Y/n.  Even through the ceilings we can hear everything.  You’re mother heard things between you and Ethan that no parent ever wants to hear.” he gave me a knowing look and then proceeded to follow in the direction my mother went.

I heart sank all the way to my butt I was so embarrassed by the information he had just revealed.  My eyes were wide as I shuddered, my head shaking in attempt to erase what had just happened from my mind, but I came up unsuccessful.

Realizing that they hadn’t taken my phone away I immediately started to reach for it to text Grace about what happened, but the memory of our altercation popped back into my mind, reminding me that texting her wasn’t a good idea.  So instead I walked up to my room, sat on my bed, and pulled out my phone to text someone else…

To E:

Grounded.  Want to come over tonight?

From E:

Slow down, sweetheart, still catching my breath from last time.

To E:

Stop.  11.  My window is open.

From E:

Chill!  I’ll be there.


“Sup!” Ethan announced his presence in a whisper as he climbed through the window, “Miss me that much?” sarcasm oozed from his voice.

“No.” I stated bluntly, “You’re my only choice right now so… here you are.” I tossed him a can of soda as I pulled out the chips I had snuck up to my room earlier from under my bed.

He caught it, situating himself on my bed with his back resting against the headboard, “You feeling better now?” he asked as he popped a chip in his mouth with a crunch.

I shrugged, “Yeah, but I’m grounded so…” I sat next to him, pulling a pillow into my lap, switching the tv opposite of us.

“I’m assuming it’s because of what you did to Matt?” he stated more than asked.  My eyebrows raised, wondering how he had heard of it so fast, “You know everything in our school spreads like wildfire.” he passed me the bag of chips.

“I hate our school.” I told him a fact he had known since the first day we started talking.  “But, yes, it’s because I beat that prick’s ass.”

“If I was there I would have joined in.” he said as he took the pillow from me and placed it behind him before sliding down to rest his head on it.

“I know.” I laid down next to him.  “My parents know we had sex by the way.” I told him, my eyes on the ceiling.

He chuckled to himself, “That’s awesome.  I must have been good.”

“Mediocre.” I teased.

Within seconds Ethan was on top of me, hands placed next to my head with his body in a push up position.  “I was top notch and you know it.  We both know it.” he pecked my nose and flipped back over to his previous position.

These little gestures of his never really meant much before.  They were just friendly interactions that brought a smile to my face, but lately it had been different.  Lately, it made my bones ache when he would pull away and my skin chill when he put distance between us.  

Lately, he had been more than just Ethan.  And that made things a whole hell of a lot more complicated.

“Ethan,” I said, not quite sure where I was going with it.

“Y/n.” he responded, mocking my tone.

“I’m going to tell you something and you’re going to be the friend I know you are and be supportive, okay?” I turned on my side to face him and he did the same.  With a nod from him I continued, “Today I went with Grayson to your cabin and I kissed him.  The kiss felt right for a second, but then it didn’t.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked with a growl.

“Because you’re my best friend and I’m not done yet so shut up.” I demanded.  “It didn’t feel right because of you and I need to know why.” I admitted, finally meeting his eyes.

He sighed, looking away from me.  Was this what rejection felt like?  Was it technically even rejection when I hadn’t initially made a move?

I continued to explain what was going on in my mind, “I just look at you and get so confused because you aren’t just my best friend anymore, your something more, something that I don’t know how to explain, but you’re there and that makes me happy.  Everything about you makes me happy.  And Grayson, he just… he has Grace.  He’s always wanted Grace and I’m just… I’m not her!  I’m me and there’s nothing I can do to change that.  But, that’s the thing, I don’t want to change that!  I’ve always been comfortable with who I am as a person until lately, and now I’m a mess!  I know that I don’t love Grayson, but I’m afraid that I’m on the path to loving him, but if loving him is going to continue to hurt this much, then I don’t want to love him at all.” I was now breathing heavily, finally getting everything I had been holding in off of my chest.

My breaths were deep, wholesome, and pure.  It was like smelling the fresh air after a spring rain.  There wasn’t a hold on me, controlling my every move, and there were no more secrets between me and E.

“I don’t want you to love him either.” Ethan said in a volume slightly above a whisper.

“What?” I asked in shock.

“I don’t want you to love him either, but if that’s what your heart truly wants then that’s what it wants.” he scooted closer to me.  “Y/n, you have been my world ever since I met you.”


He stopped me, “I think about what it would be like to have you by my side like this for the long haul but I know what you feel for Grayson and what Grayson feels for you.  I will never intrude unless you ask me to, but know this, Y/n Y/l/n, whatever happens in the end, you were the greatest first love I could have ever asked for.  I will never have a love like I have for you ever again and I thank you.  I thank you for allowing me to feel something as amazing as what I feel for you.  If this was the last moment we spent together, this close, that would be enough for me.  Knowing that I had you for a moment will fulfill me for a lifetime.”

“Why did you have to say that?” I whispered with a ghost of a smile on my face.

“Because you’re my best friend.  We’re sharing secrets right now aren’t we?” he moved a piece of hair out of my face before pulling me in closer.  “Also because I’m not going down without a fight.”

“I wish I could give you an answer right now, but I just can’t.” I rested my forehead against his, something we had done since the beginning of our friendship.

He pressed his lips against my forehead, allowing them to linger, “I don’t expect you to.  Just know that I love you, okay?  I’ll be by your side no matter what.”

“Ethan, you’re too good for me, you know?  I don’t think I could ever deserve you.” I told him truthfully, laying it all out on the line tonight seemed to be the trend.

“You’ll always be enough for me and more.” he hugged me as close as he could and did so until we fell asleep.


Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

anonymous asked:

50. “People are staring.” - Clexa

Clarke threw herself back onto her bed. She flung an arm over her face and cursed at herself under her breath.

“Is it really that bad?”


Clarke felt the hard toe of Raven’s boot bump against her leg, and then Raven was pulling her arm away. The overhead light assaulted her eyes and Clarke screwed them shut. They stung, burned like she was on the verge of crying, and Clarke wanted to scream.

“How mad is she?” Raven asked.

“Pretty mad,” Clarke said, blowing out a heavy breath. “She told me not to talk to her for a while. Said she needed space.”



Silence settled in the room, crawled up under Clarke’s skin and made her squirm. She was restless and agitated, desperate not to cry. When the silence only continued, she suddenly sat up and looked at her best friend.


Raven’s eyes widened. “Well, what?”

“You’re supposed to say something,” Clarke said. “You know, like, give me sage advice or something.”

Raven snorted and shook her head. “When have I ever given you sage advice? About anything?”

“But you’re supposed to help me with this,” Clarke said, shoving Raven’s shoulder. “You’ve been through it before.”

Keep reading

Where we left them…

“I love you. So much. I’ll always love you,” he whispered, not sure if Sophia could even hear him over the running water and with how out of it she was.

Her head was resting against his chest and she was unable to move. She wasn’t even sure if what had just happened had actually happened.

“Are we gonna be okay?” she managed to ask after she’d gathered her senses back.

“I don’t know,” Harry said honestly.

He knew there was no use in lying. They both knew.

| catch up here | talk to me here |

Keep reading

The Ties That Bind

Rating: E

Summary: Cassian likes to play with Nesta’s hair too.

(Post-bonding. Post ACOWAR.)

A/N: A little weekend warm up in the Nessian pool—enjoy!

Tagging: @aelin-and-feyre


Read it on AO3


Nesta loathed having anyone touch her hair. Even as a child, she refused to let others—her mother, her maids, her governesses—brush or braid it. Their touch felt too close, too personal, and she hated how it always made her feel so…exposed.

It was why she preferred to style her own hair, much to Nuala and Cerridwen’s disappointment. Even her own sisters knew not to challenge her on this. She had always been very particular about her grooming  and she wouldn’t relinquish her control over it to just anyone.

Her mate, however, was a different story.

She had seen the dreamy way Cassian looked at her when she sat at her vanity; how spellbound he was every time she undid her hair. That the General Commander of the Night Court’s armies could be enthralled by something so common, so ordinary…it made her feel strangely giddy. Girlish even. As though his admiration of her was a sparkling wine she would never stop craving.

He craved her just as much, it seemed.

She didn’t know exactly when Cassian had developed this particular hobby. But she found it suspect that no matter how long his duties claimed him, he would always arrive home just in time to see her let her hair down.

Tonight was no exception.

No sooner had she clasped the handle of her hairbrush than she heard the beat of his wings sweeping over the balcony. This, followed by the sure and steady cadence of his footsteps, sent her heart racing. As did the open-and-shut creak of the double doors that led to their bedroom.

Gods above, what had he done to her?

How could she feel such joy, such delight, at something as simple as her lover, her husband, her mate, coming home to her arms?

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Any headcannons for how Hera treats the kids when they're sick?

How did you know mom Hera was my aesthetic?

  • When it comes to Zeb, the guy has an immune system of steel, so the worst he gets is the sniffles
    • all Hera has to do is make sure it doesn’t get any worse
    • it’s not hard
  • Sabine would literally dive head first into a fire fight with a fever of a hundred and two and give zero shits
    • I’m sorry did that say would? She HAS
    • and Hera still has nightmares about it because she basically had to carry a fever crazy Mandalorian teenager back to the ship so she could then strap Sabine to the bunk and babysit her for the next three days
    • Sabine has either two moods when she’s sick and that’s grumpier teenager or reversion to a small child
    • it honestly all depends on how bad the sickness is
  • Hera basically sits with Sabine as much as she is able and always makes sure to get some sort of hot food into Sabine’s belly before the day is over
    • mostly they just chat when Sabine is up for it and when she’s conked out, Hera just sits and reads or slips out for five minutes to check on the ship
    • when Sabine’s really really sick - and I mean like the crying because everything hurts kind of sick - Hera will climb into the bunk with Sabine and hold her close, bundle Sabine up in blankets, and sing her lullabies from when Hera’s mother used to do the same on Ryloth
    • Sabine only speaks a smattering of Ryl, but it’s enough to know that the melodies are words of love and protection
  • The moment Hera learned that Ezra all but grew up on the streets, she started paying super close attention to anything more than a sniffle from him because Force knows what kind of crazy infections this kid could be carrying around
    • it’s more out of concern for Ezra than anyone else because the streets do not provide nearly enough food to keep an immune system that’s still developing strong enough to fight diseases
    • this is why Hera is less than surprised the first time Ezra gets a mild stomach bug, he is five times worse than he should be
      • we’re talking passing out with extreme fever, unable to keep the simplest of meals down, little to no sleep because of how uncomfortable he is, etc.
    • Hera moves Ezra into her room - partially so Zeb can sleep and partially so she can sit with Ezra - and spends the whole night changing cold compresses on Ezra’s heated skin and softly humming lullabies
    • she knows he’s getting better when Ezra doesn’t throw up the soup Hera fed him one night, and then his fever broke the next day
      • Hera still curls up in the bunk with Ezra and holds him comfortingly and sings to him the way she does to Sabine
  • All in all, Hera is far more protective of Ezra when he’s sick, only because Hera knows that Sabine is stronger than Ezra; but that doesn’t mean she does any less for Sabine when the space daughter is sick
  • Hera is Mom of the Year
The 20 Times I Cried While Reading A Court of Wings and Ruin

I have never cried while reading a book as much as I did for ACOWAR - and that’s saying something considering how emotional I can be when it comes to books. It seemed like every chapter I was holding back tears and by the time I made it to the end of the book I felt like a husk of the person I had once been. This book drained me, emotionally, mentally, even physically with its moving scenes and finality and I felt to truly do justice to the impact of ACOWAR, rather than favorite moments (of which there are many), I needed to give credit to the scenes that left me inconsolable at three in the morning. And while this post could be more accurately titled the “82 times I cried while reading this book”, I spared myself and you from that emotional trauma and narrowed it - really, I did - to the moments I physically, tears on my cheeks, sobbing, cried, while reading ACOWAR.

So grab some tissues, some tea and a pillow, because here are the 20 reasons I cried while reading A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J Maas.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

“I still remember the way you taste.” supercorp or supercat. your writing is amazing.

“I know you’re there.”

Kara startled at the soft declaration, barely more than whisper in the dark. It echoed in Kara’s head like thunder, vibrated in her bones. She took a deep breath and floated from the shadows, out into the faint glow of the Cat’s bedroom lamp. It lit the balcony like a candle, a weak halo of illumination, and in its glow sat the woman who had occupied Kara’s thoughts for longer than she cared to admit.

Carefully, she touched down on the balcony and looked Cat over. She traced her silhouette with her gaze as she had down countless times over the last four months. She could still sometimes feel the ghosts of those angles on her fingertips. A haunting kind of memory that made her heart race.

Cat didn’t look at her. She kept her face forward, knees curled to her chest, glass of scotch in her hand. Kara felt the same way she always did when looking at Cat now–wide open, hollowed out, alive in the most painful way.

“How…” Kara licked her lips, cleared her throat. “How did you know?”

A heavy sigh slithered across Cat’s lips, something aged and tired. So terribly tired. “Every night,” Cat said. “You come here every night, hover in the shadows, and watch me.”

It was true. Every night over the last four months, Kara had come. Drawn to Cat like a moth to flame. She found her way there every night without fail, and she would watch. Watch Cat stretch and sigh, sip at a drink, stare out into the city. Watch her rub her feet and neck. Watch her hum along to some tune Kara couldn’t place. Watch her bark orders over her phone to some assistant Kara couldn’t name and neither could Cat. Watch her cry.

It was enough to hurt, enough to heal; enough to keep Kara going. It was something she could hold onto.

But this? Realizing that Cat knew, that she had always known…it shook Kara. It rattled her. She felt breathless with it.

“But how, Cat?” Her voice cracked around Cat’s name. It had been so terribly long since she last gave it voice. She took a step forward, a little further into the light. “How could you possibly know that?”

Cat didn’t say anything for the longest time, simply let the words hang. She was silent so long that Kara assumed she wouldn’t answer at all. She shifted on her feet, unsteady and unsure, and wondered if she should kick off again, recede back into the shadows, reclaim her position as a firm part of Cat’s past. But then…

“The way you smell,” Cat whispered. She let out another heavy sigh and took a long sip of her scotch, still staring out into the night. At the city, the lights, the sky. Anything but Kara. “I can smell you in the wind sometimes, your perfume.” She leaned forward, set her scotch on the small table in front of her chair, and then settled back again. She ran a tired hand through her hair and leaned her head back, closed her eyes. “I can feel your eyes on me.”

“I–” Kara’s voice cracked again. Her throat felt tight and constricted. Her eyes stung.

“You can’t spend that much time with someone and not learn how it feels when they look at you,” Cat said. “I know how it feels to be looked at by you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll never forget.”

The words hit Kara like a shot to the gut. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes watered. Her stomach knotted. Her skin wouldn’t stop crawling. There were so many parts of her that still didn’t understand how they had gotten like this, why Cat had pushed her away. Why they couldn’t try again, and again, and again. Why they couldn’t just be. “I…I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” she said, ducking her head. “I never…I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t think you would ever know.”

“I know everything about you, Kara Danvers,” Cat said, eyes still closed and words still light and breathy on her tongue. She rocked her head from side to side, a gentle shake, and when she spoke, it was as if she was speaking only to herself. Saying all the things she could say in the silence and in the stillness, in solitude. The things she would never say to Kara in the light of day, in the bright, loud wonder and rush of moments not stolen or reserved. “You never realized, but I made a point of it. I memorized you. Your preferences. Your values. Your fears.”


Cat lazily tapped her temple. “I remember every detail.” She released a hard huff of air, as if she wished she could forget. The scent of alcohol on her breath curled in Kara’s nose, and Kara wanted to scream. It all felt too close, too intimate, too heavy and hard and hurting. Cat sounded like she had grown a century inside her soul since the last time they spoke, and Kara wanted to wrap her up in her arms and press away the sorrow, wanted to be there as much as she wanted to fly away.

“I know all your little ticks and quirks,” Cat whispered. “All your sounds. All your angles.” Kara hung on every word, clung to the ache in Cat’s voice, the want. The regret. She stepped forward, a silent movement. Then another. “I still remember your routines and rituals. I know the way you smell right after a shower and how much warmer your skin is than mine or anyone’s.” She licked her lips in the lamplight, and Kara drew closer. She dropped to her knees in front of Cat’s chair and took in the full vision of her, haloed in light and curled in on herself. And when Cat opened her eyes a moment later, glistening, and looked down at her, Kara felt her entire world bloom in a way it hadn’t since before she had walked out of Cat’s house and out of Cat’s life.

Cat reached forward, trailed one finger down Kara’s cheek, along the line of her jaw. She smoothed out a wrinkle in the ripple of Kara’s cape, draped over her shoulder. “I still remember the way you taste.”

Kara grabbed Cat’s hand before Cat could retract it. She held it tightly in hers, rubbed her thumb over the backs of Cat’s slender fingers, and rested her other hand on Cat’s naked foot, still curled up in her chair. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” Kara asked, her voice little more than a wet, trembling sigh. “Why did you send me away?”

Cat looked at her for a long time, long and lingering. She used her free hand to wipe away a tear before it could fall. “That’s what I do,” she said, the words escaping in a long sigh. “I push away everything and everyone I love.” She squeezed Kara’s hand. “Everyone who loves me.”

“You don’t have to,” Kara said. She slid her hand up from Cat’s foot, up her skinny shin, over her knee. She rubbed her hand slowly back and forth along the outside of Cat’s thigh. “You don’t have to push me away.” She latched gently onto Cat’s ankles then and pulled her legs down, out of the chair. She then shifted into the space between them and rested both hands on Cat’s thighs. “I want to be here.”

Leaning forward, Kara rested her forehead against Cat’s chest. She closed her eyes when Cat’s hand came to rest on the back of her head, fingers scratching gently at her scalp. The familiar scent of her overwhelmed Kara. Her heart squeezed and hammered, and she could hear Cat’s doing the same. The sensation, the sound, made her dizzy. “Tell me to stay, Cat,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose against the soft material of Cat’s sweater. “Tell me to stay and I’ll stay.”

Cat cradled Kara’s head, fingers making lazy lines through Kara’s hair. She took several slow, deep breaths. Took her time. Her voice shook when she finally spoke again. “Stay.”

Saving Grace // H.S

“You know what Y/N? My mind is made up. I don’t like him and he isn’t good for you.”

A lump the size of a boulder wells up in my throat and I ball up my fists. In front of me, my dad stands with his arms folded across and giving me that “poor girl doesn’t know she’s stupid” look. Mom hovers by the doorway of the kitchen, messing with her hands and looking uncertain on what to do. I understand. I mean, what can you do when the two people you love are constantly hacking each other The dagger like words meant to kill?

Today he’s gone too far. Stepped into for bidden territory. Harry’s been nothing but good to me, yet my father and insists on running him away. Like he ran all the other people I was close to with his snippy comments and turned up nose. Just looking at him now makes me sick. Too many years being controlled by Mr. know it all.

“What makes you think you know a single thing about me? You don’t. You don’t know what good for me. You know what’s good for you, you think just because you don’t like someone, we shouldn’t either. That’s not how stuff works though Dad! People make their own choices and I’ve chosen to love Harry. My mind is made up”

He scoffs in that snobby, ridiculous way to make other people feel small. I don’t. I feel taller. He notices and clenches his jaw. “ look here you are a kid, a stupid infant. You know nothing. NOTHING. About life, love, about anything. I know about you. You are nothing honey. You think this boy loves you? He’s just going to use you for what he wants and leave you looking like a little toy, to be played with and then tossed aside. Don’t tell me what I do and don’t know. You see all those degrees?” He sharply we gestures towards the wall “I think I know who the dumb one is here. The naïve little girl who thinks this boy cares about her”

“Victor please,” My mom pleads quietly. That’s my mom for you. Quiet. Nice. Too nice, to really stand up for herself or anyone. Her eyes remained glue to the ground with terror. But I fight back. I am not a coward. I am not intimidated by him and his harsh words.

“You are wrong,” I hiss, stepping forward so that my face is level with his. My father is a short man who puts other people down to make himself feel bigger. And I know for a fact by the way his face burned at the sound of my words that he hates being told that he is wrong. “Dead wrong. Your fancy papers and books mean nothing. It’s just an act to make you feel more important than you really are. You control Mom and I and hurt us because you know that if we had it our way, we would leave your sorry ass in the dust.”

Steam whistles out of his ears and my mom whimpers. “Y/N stop” but she knows I’m right. I see it in her burnt out eyes. She’s sick too. Too sick to do anything about it.

I continue. “Harry loves me. And I love him. You’re just mad because nobody loves you and you don’t deserve it-“

A sudden fire erupted in my jaw and I fall, I fall down to my knees. The muffled sound of my mothers screams and my dads shouting echoes in my skull, but it’s only background music to the melody playing in my head: he hit me. He hit me. He really hit me.

I run. Climbed to my feet and leave my moms wailing and my dad yelling behind. I run until my legs are Jelly and the night has swallowed my war zone of a house all together. With hands trembling with rage and fear and shock, I dial his number. I need him. I need Harry.

“Hey babe, what’s up,” Harry greets me happily. I hear video games in the back and the boys voices shouting over one another. They must be having a boys night or something.

“Get me out of here,” I beg, my voice cracking. I gulp back the sob threatening to shatter my strong facade. “Get me out of here Harry”.

The happiness is gone. Sucked away in my vacuum called reality. He must’ve left the room, because it’s silent now. “What’s wrong y/n? Where are you? What happened?”

My jaw hurts when I talk. I do anyway, and I hear all the pain in the words that fall from my mouth in broken heaps. The fight in me is gone, and I cry. “He hit me Harry, he punched me in the jaw. Get me out of here.” I’m sobbing now, raking my hands through my hair. “It hurts” I add. And it does. Having your own flesh and blood slam their knuckles into your jaw bone Is the kind of betrayal that is permanent.

“I’m coming right now.” Is all he says, and hangs up in a swift click. Those four words are enough to grant me about five seconds of security, but it quickly fades, and I find myself pacing. Back and forth. I kick rocks along the side of the road. I count stars. I delete old messages from my phone. Anything to distract me from the pain in my jaw. I can feel a heavy bruise forming.

By the time the headlight of Harry’s car grows closer and closer, I’m sitting on the ground, legs crossed and facing the sky. Other than physical pain, I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore. Tears have dried. I’m all cried out.

Harry screeches to a stop and his eyes are ablaze. He kneels in front of me and his fingers trace the bruise that has blossomed on my face. I wince.

“Come on,” He whispers, helping me up and into the car almost like toddler gentleness. It is a relieving change from the hostility I faced an hour ago.

We drive in utter silence. His hands hold the steering wheel in a death grip and his eyes flicker from me to the road every 10 seconds. But I press the right side of my face to the window, staring blankly ahead. Unfamiliar surroundings pass us by and with every mile stretching between my dad & I, I feel more and more free.

I don’t know how many minutes or even hours we drove until Harry reached some random park. We walked side by side to some swing, accompanied by the chirping birds, the stars, and the burning on my jaw.

“Are you okay Harry?” I ask softly, squeezing his hand in mine. He shakes his head no.

“I’ll kill him,” he growls. “I really will. How dare he touch you that way? How twisted is he to punch his own daughter?”

His anger sends goosebumps raising up and down my arms. “H calm down okay? He’s not worth it, of all people.”

“How can I calm down?” He practically yells. A flock of birds flee from a nearby maple tree and I flinch. “He punched you! That’s no ok! I’ll personally kick his a-“

“Harry” I shout over him. He stops and looks my way. Deep breath y/n. One. Two. “ as much as I would love to have you do that and hear all the things you have to say, i’ve had enough yelling and violence for one night. Just calm down for one minute.”

Much softer, he says “ I just can’t believe he did that to you. I can’t stand seeing you hurt and not do anything about it.” Harry pushes me lightly on the swing while I stare down at my shoes. Sadly, I can believe he did it. It doesn’t really matter. My father doesn’t see the pain. He’s blind. Selfish. And mean.

“I hate him” I murmur.

“So do I,” Harry agrees. “You understand that I’m not letting you go back there, right?”

“Harry I have nowhere else to go” I sigh. “As much as I don’t want to go back, My clothes and possessions are all there, and I just graduated. I hardly have any money. How my going to move out?”

He stopped pushing and pulls me and the swing back against his body. “You can stay with me”

“I’m not going to take up space at your house Harry. I can’t ask that from you. Anyways, he’ll just bring me back home. And what about my mom? Leaving her with him just wouldn’t be right. She deserves to get away just as much a I-“

“You think too much,” Harry sang over my voice, I rolled my eyes.

“And you think too little”

As he laughs, I take refuge in the familiarity of his voice, his company. I can’t help laughing, although my jaw protested.

“Seriously though y/n, I want you to live with me. Having you around actually makes my life better. I’ll handle your dad. You’re 18 now y/n. No matter what he says, you’re own person who can make your own decisions.”

My mind wanders,Imagining my life with Harry. Waking up with him every morning. Watching movies with him every night and trashing the place period. Doing all sorts of things and being together. Living together, with my best friend and the love of my life. My mom could be away from my father and her eyes shine like they used to a million year ago. My Father would be a thing of the past. And I would like that.

“Fine. Ok Harry.”

Before I can process it, Harry scoops me out of the swing and hugs me closely to his chest. My feet don’t touch the ground and strangely, although my injured jaw is buried in his shirt, it doesn’t hurt that much. Maybe Harry is my very own personal, pain reliever. Because around him, no matter how bad the hurt, I always feel better around him.

“Thank you” I say as I kiss him. “Thank you for everything”


Hope you enjoy!! Maybe a part 2? Let me know your thoughts.

That question actually hit my feels. I’m gonna do the best I can to explain.

Look, Kate was an amazing character and I loved her more than I could ever put into words. In the pilot, the present her to us as a high qualified agent who takes no one’s bulls**t.

Her chemistry with Gibbs is another thing I adore but that’s another story. So yes, she did her job really well and was proud of it, and given that it was 2003 and there were lots of men there, that’s one thing you gotta admire. Let’s take a moment now to appreciate her gorgeous smile:

The following episodes show how she started to get used to NCIS and Gibbs’ way of doing things. Remember when he was like

Plus, she got on well with the others (Tony, Mcgee, Abby, Gibbs, Ducky). She formed special relationships with everyone.

Another reason for loving her was that she was very kind hearted and always thought the best of everyone (which sometimes led to some people backstabbing her, like 1x03 and 1x10). Bottom line is, she was a really nice person, even if her job meant dealing with all those deaths and murderers. She never stopped smiling and always encouraged her teammates and took care of them.

She also didn’t lack badassery.

She was serious at important times, even when her teammates weren’t.

Also this:

She was willing to make sacrifices for her teammates, or more accurately, family. Remember when she stayed with Tony even if he had the plague to keep him company?

Or when she jumped in front of a bullet for Gibbs?

She was never afraid to speak up, not even to superiors from other agencies.

And she was good with kids too:

Basically I have a lot of respect for that character and I am really hurt about what they did to her (s2 changes, 2x23) which only makes me wanna protect her even more.

And the reason I’ve been blogging about her these past days was that yesterday (May 24th) was the 12th anniversary of her death and I haven’t gotten over it yet. I don’t think I ever will because she was just too awesome.

Tl;dr: Caitlin Todd was a splendid character with numerous qualities who deserved much better and I will always love her.

@onekisstotakewithme @itbloomedforyourlittlegirl @katetoddisnotdead @all of you Kate lovers feel free to add your own reasons. 

How we met Floriana Lima

So I’m going to skip the unsuccessful Saturday, where we were waiting for her outside the hotel for like only 3 hours or so :D Sunday was way better ;)
We camped outside from like 11 am, knowing that “you-know-who” :D has red carpet and some program at 2pm. So we were hoping she will go out with him. So we were waiting, but they didn’t came out :( We found out on the internet he is already at his program, but Flo was not on the pictures with him. I tried twitter, hoping for anything to give us hope she’s even inside and I found her instagram story she uploaded around 1:30pm. Her instagram story was a video of her room view and she even recorded us standing down there :D So we knew she is in the hotel and we also knew which window was hers!! :D
This put new energy inside of us and we decided to just stay there and hope for the best, “you-know-who” had another program at 4:30pm so we hoped she would come out then :D
After another 2 hours of waiting, we came up with a lot of theories how we could catch her attention (beside tagging her on twitter and instagram that we already tried) - like train a pigeon to flew with a note up to her open window, borrow a drone with a written message or even shouting her name from top of our lungs :D. Shortly after 4pm we decided to wait another 30 minutes until the mentioned program started and then we were going to give up. We were sad and totally sure it wont work out.
And then I saw her. She came out from the hotel, and was waiting for her car to pull over. Luckily while I was barely able to breath my friends who were with me shouted her name and she just looked surprised at first that she has some fans waiting for her there. She had sunglasses on which she immediately put down which was nice, cos we were able to see her in the eye :)

She came to us smiling, autographing our prepared Maggie photos. I vaguely remember her doing something like “aww” what she saw we have Maggie’s photos. She signed and took pictures with us, smiling her dimples off. She looked genuinely happy she has fans there, she was very nice and I really wish i could remember this whole meeting better :D.
She signed photo of Sanvers, where she drew a little heart over Alex (of course she did ❤), and she commented on the bts photo from shooting the 221 with the shotgun “that was an amazing day” :).
When her car was waiting for her for a while already, she finished all the signing and selfie-ing with us and she had to go :( But when the car was leaving, she pulled down her window, waved and us and thanked us for coming ❤❤❤
I’m more than sure I don’t remember like half of things that happened, but i think you can understand that :D

I would love to thank all of you guys, who were rooting for me, this was a dream come true for me and I’m so happy right now. Thank you for all your kind words!
And the biggest thanks from them all goes to @raven618 and @reginaisthegoodone for taking all those photos of me and Flo and especially for those amazing 3+6 hours of standing in one place and still having fun doing so :D ;)

And to answer all of your questions… :D She is smol, but not so much as I participated :D I don’t know if she smells good, cos since we haven’t hugged it would be weird for me to try and smell her :D Her voice is even more sexy and hot than in the TV and her head pressed against mine in our photo? That was all her ❤

With You Always

Originally posted by closer-to-the-edge-of-glory

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: I really hope it’s ok to request another Bucky smut,because you’re the best smut writer in my opinion <3 So I had the idea where Buck still lives in Bucharest and your’re his girlfriend but recently he feels sad because he cant give you the life you deserve but you reassure him all the time that you’re happy as Long as he’s with you. So one time he feels down again and you decide to cuddle him but this cuddling soon turns heated and he makes love to you? :) Just some fluffy smut would be lovely

Word Count: 943

Warning: Smut

Y/n was cooking dinner when Bucky came storming into their apartment, startling her and making her drop the spoon she was using to stir the soup. She watched as Bucky began to pace the room.

“Bucky? What happened?” Y/n said determinedly.

He stopped his pacing when he heard her voice, Bucky looked over at you with a sad and depressed face, swallowing, “Do you think I’m worth it all? I can’t give you much, doll and you deserve so much more than a person like me.” Stretching his arms out in front of him.

Setting the spoon to the side while Bucky took a seat on the torn up couch, Y/n walked over and sat in front of him, “Look at me, Buck.” It took him a few more minutes of her persistent before he would, “I love you. I’m happy with you. No one else just you. I don’t care about what you can and can not give, all I care about is you staying by my side.”

Keep reading


Sting - Part 2 

A/N - Thank you Taw @supersoldierslover. You are the absolute best . 

WARNINGS - None, maybe some angst idk . 

(second time using this gif, cause I couldn’t find any)

Originally posted by lilpieceofmyworld


You wanted to let it go . Well at least you tried to . But you couldn’t . How could you when every morning you were blessed with the sight of the new couple together at the cafe. You stopped going there. You just couldn’t .How you wanted to walk over to him and tell the truth. It wouldn’t be that hard , maybe he would believe you. But then again , you now knew how manipulative your friend was and you were sure she would cook up some story .

 It hurt you . For the past 6 months you were hurting under the impression that Bucky cheated on you . That he was with another person while he was with you . He craved pleasure in someone who wasn’t you . The thought of him touching another person , kissing another person and having sex with them increased your hatred towards him . But to now know that it was all a lie hurt even more. You lost a man that made you oh so very happy.

But it wasn’t really your fault , was it? She fed you with lies for over a week . She told you about how she had her suspicions about Bucky’s character .Until that day she called you and told you that he cheated. You felt that she was your true friend .She looked out for you . You were glad that you decided to befriend her 4 years ago at the office party.

You called her that night to inform her that you were going to your brothers , and that you were going to stay there for a while. But she didn’t lift the phone.

She called you a few times and the conversations only lasted a few minutes and then she stopped calling all together . But you had your brother so you didn’t think much of it. You even called her to inform that you got a job near the old one and that you will be coming back , but she didn’t lift her phone .

Now you could see it all so clearly .How she betrayed you with her lies . Why would you ever think that your bestfriend would ever do such a thing.

It  wasn’t easy passing her occasionally and not just slap her for doing this to you . As the days increased the guilt on her face became evident. You could see that she knew exactly how bad she fucked up . But you didn’t know if it was real guilt or she was just acting so that you wouldn’t tell any of this to Bucky .

But you knew he deserved to know the truth . If he chose to stay with Sabrina even after knowing the truth then there isn’t much you could do. So you decided to tell him. He worked in the firm right next to yours , and so did Sabrina . You walked through the hallways searching for the that had his name on it. But before you could , you were being dragged around the corner by you ‘best friend’.

“Fucking touch me again , and I will break your hand.” You scolded pulling your elbow from her hand

“What are you doing here?”, she asked sternly.

“I came to meet Bucky.” You replied.

“For what huh? You are going to tell him the truth?”

She laughs bitterly at this .

“Do you really think he is going to believe you?”
“I don’t know. But I can try to make him see how pathetic you are.”
“Oh honey . Don’t you see how happy he is with me . I love him more than you ever could. He deserves much better than you . And that’s why he has me .”

The words stung your heart, but you couldn’t show it to her. You knew that even if a hint of belief crossed your face she wouldn’t use it against you.

She pushed past her with tears stinging your eyes and made way to your office. You couldn’t look at her anymore or Bucky . Maybe he was happier now . Maybe she was better him .

With a clean face and tissues in your hand you sat back in your office and got back to work , hoping that it would be a distraction from the current situation .But however hard you tried you couldn’t remove the image of Bucky from your mind. You were reminiscing .

You remembered your first date. The ever confident and flirtatious Bucky Barnes looked so cute when he was shy and nervous about asking you out . And when you accepted the smile that grew on his face was blinding . It was nothing fancy . He took you out to a nice restaurant and then to your favourite ice-cream parlour  . It was a day you could never forget because it was the first time you had a taste of his lips.

You hand rose to your lips as you rubbed it thinking about how tender and gentle the kiss was. You let the tears flow down your cheek staining your shirt when you heard your door opening .

In front of you stood Bucky with Sabrina by his side.

You got up from your seat and looked at both of them .

“Bucky , she’s not worth it . She left you!!!” Sabrina said trying to pull Bucky out of the door.

You could feel the anger boiling inside you . How the fuck could she even say that?? I left him???

“I know. But I want to know why?”  he said looking at you . He looked hurt , he looked the way you looked when she lied to you about Bucky indecency .

“But why? I mean , why does it matter now.” She knew that there was no way out of this situation , she looked worried about the cat getting out of the bag.

“I just need to know.” He walked towards you , standing in front of your desk , his eyes boring into yours. “Tell me .”

You knew if you told him the truth he wouldn’t be with Sabrina. But what if she was right? What if he was happier with her than he was with you?

“Y/N Please.”. he begged. He looked hurt and angry he deserved to know the truth .

“I thought you cheated on me.”, the words barely audible.

“What?”, Bucky was taken aback by your words.

“Wha…What  did I ever do to make you think that? I neve…I never cheated on you.”

“I know that now.” You say with your head down , sounding guilty. You knew it wasn’t your fault but you did hurt Bucky .

“Why did you think that?” He asked a little more sternly.

“I…Because..”, you wanted to tell him, but you still weren’t sure for some reason .

“Y/N , just tell me.”

You could see from behind Bucky that Sabrina was already standing with her head down , looking guilty as fuck.

“Sabrina told me.” , you blurted out . You couldn’t hold it back. He needed to know.  

“What?? “ he asked turning to face her .

As the words came out of your mouth she instantly looked up to you , anger behind her gaze .And now that Bucky turned towards her , her expression completely changed.

“Is it true?” You expected him to be more angry and furious , expected him to scream at her .  But he didn’t . He felt the same thing you felt when you found the truth. Betrayal . He couldn’t believe that someone was capable of doing this .

“Yes . But Bucky I did it because I love you.” She pleaded taking his hands in hers. He pulled away instantly.  

“Well thats a weird way of showing it. You took away someone I loved the most . And you want me to believe that you love me?”

“Bucky ,please….”

“Get out.” Was all that he said . She was crying  . You didn’t know what to feel . Were you angry yes. But you were a little sad too .You knew the feeling . You knew how you felt when you thought Bucky didn’t love you .

You watched her walk away . out of your office. Wiping her tears . You looked at Bucky who still had his back towards you .

“I am sorry.” You didn’t know what you were sorry for exactly but you said it anyways .

He slowly turned towards you as you continued speaking, looking down at your desk.

“I know that things ended badly ,and you love or loved Sabrina , and I don’t know where we stand but….” you squeaked in surprise as you felt him press his lips against yours.

After a moment of surprise you melt into the kiss and wrap your fingers around his neck. The kiss was urgent and full of need.

For someone reason tears rolled down your eyes as Bucky hugged you , close to his chest .

“Hey , it’s okay .”

“I thought I lost you now. I thought you loved her.”

“I love you . Always did.” His words soothed your heart and your lips curled into a smile.

“I love you.” He pulled you closer to his body , hoping he doesn’t have to lose you again .

A week passed before your path crossed with Sabrina’s. You saw her enter the cafe. You couldn’t to sip on your tea when she came and sat in front of you .

A few minutes of silence passed before she spoke up .

“I am sorry . I was selfish . I should have never hurt you . I know you can’t forgive me . And I know you can never trust me . But I just wanted you to know that I ashamed of what I did . And I am sorry.”

You didn’t know if you could believe her or not. But you knew that forgiving her will give a fresh start to the both of you.

“As you said I don’t know if I can ever trust you  , but I do accept your apology.” You say smiling .

She smiled back softly.

Thank you for reading. I love to hear from you guys .

TAGS - The taglist is open, if you want to be tagged send an ask .

@hellomissmabel @justareader @buckyappreciationsociety @hopelessgarbage @melconnor2007 @magellan-88 @mcfuccfairy @psychicwitchphilosopher @topkay @the-witching-hours12-3 @badassbaker @superantonija @elwenia @elwin-smaragd @panickedpandaposts @mytrueself @tol-sam @emilyevanston @marveloussssworld @marvelatthepeople @always-an-evans-addict @mjcumberbatch @crazybutconfidentaf @yknott81 @winterboobaer @chipilerendi @aingealcethlenn @hollycornish @iamwarrenspeace @mrshopkirk @sexy-sea-basss @thewinterswimmer 

@irene-rogue-adler @gamergirl4life2004 @imsunnysu @flammy-whater @babiedeer @justreadingfics @gingerbatchwife @luvingmyships @emnajomni98 @flirtswithdanger @wantingtobekorra @dengo93 @ericasabe @irepeldirt

Robb only ever wants to be a good brother. 

“Robb! Robb wait, please!” He can hear the pitter patter of bare feet upon stone. Sansa runs after him, her skirts hiked up and looking disheveled. For a moment she had looked like the girl from his childhood. The girl before courtesies and Septa Mordane and Kingslanding. She used to run after him when she was a little girl, skirt hiked up, begging him to be her knight. For a moment, he pretends that they are both children and this is some game. He’s still her knight and favourite brother but the illusion cracks the moment she speaks again.

“Robb! I love him and I know you do too!” Her voice is thick with tears and something else. Her pain slices through him but he doesn’t dare look.  “Robb, please,” she weeps. His heart breaks at the sound of her voice and he near stops. Her pain is a living and breathing thing and he wants to tame and quell it, just like he had done when they were both children. He has never been able to ignore her tears and pain. Even now, he wants to turn around and comfort her. He forces the urge down. Sansa is still a girl but he is no longer a boy. He can’t just stop because he loves her. 

The sound of her running stops but her cries bounces off the wall, loud and piercing. He releases a breath, relieved.  She may not feel it now but she’ll get over it one day. It is better this way.

He expects her to cry and rage at him. He expects cold and blank stares but he doesn’t expect bare feet pounding against stone, loud and desperate and he doesn’t expect her soft and small body to collide against his. They both fall to the ground and he makes to push her away but she clings to him, nails digging into skin. He struggles for a bit but Sansa’s grip is stronger than first thought. He turns away from her, refusing to look at her, terrified and angry.
“Robb. Robb look at me.” He refuses, closing his eyes tightly. He wants to place his hands over his ears but she grips his hands tightly.

 “Robb, please, it’s Jon!” That one name drains him of all his energy and sense and he finally opens his eyes. Sansa’s face is close to his own, her cheeks wet with tears. Her eyes are red and tears still cling to her eye lashes. She has never seemed so young to him. Even the angry and fierce stare is reminiscent of the girl from his childhood.  He does not mention that, he can’t. 

“He broke his vows.” His voice is that of a stranger. It doesn’t sound anything like his own. It is hollow and cold, perhaps his kingly voice. Sansa’s eyes are wide, making the blue stand out so sharply. They are eyes that one can drown in but he doesn’t allow himself to fall.

“He’s your brother.”

“And he’s yours.” He rises slowly but Sansa’s grip gets tighter, wrapping her whole body around him. He catches sight of her knees, bruised and cut up, knobbly, even now that she’s near womanhood. 

“Robb, please, don’t do this” she weeps, trembling as she says the words, nails biting deeply into flesh.

“No, what you did, what he did was wrong. I can’t.” He finally brushes all her long and gangly limbs away and stands. Sansa is still on her knees, trembling at the sound of his words. 

“If you have any love for me. If you ever loved either of us, you won’t do this.” He only shook his head. There was more to this world than love. There were broken vows and broken trust. There was seeing the siblings that looked so like your dead parents, entwined and clinging to each other.

“It will be an easy and quick death,” he says gently but that only seems to enrage her and Sansa jumps to her feet and rams her body into his again. He steps back slightly but this doesn’t stop Sansa. She pushes him again, her face twisted into one of fury.

“He doesn’t have to die!” She rails against him, tiny fists pounding against his chest. He wants to take her hands in his and hold her but she doesn’t give him the chance to. She doesn’t stop for even a moment, her fists and body ramming into his chest. He allows her to do it, waiting for her to collapse within herself. When they were children, Sansa would rage at him, her voice high and girlish and furious. He would always eventually be able to redeem himself with promises of treats and a kiss to the cheek. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to do that now. 

“Princess, let me take you to your room.” Sansa shrugs the person off but he looks up and starts at the sight of his wife. He hadn’t even noticed to her but then, when does he notice her. Their marriage had settled from a desperate and passionate marriage to one with empty stares and coldness, all without a hitch. He can’t say he’s surprised. Duty begets duty and loneliness begets loneliness.

He pushes her away and she stumbles. He steps to catch her but he shrugs her off.

“Jeyne, stay with my sister. Look after her,” he says, only staring at his sister. Her face is red and angry and terrified. He turns away from her, feeling more like a boy than a man grown and a king when he sees her.
“I won’t ever forgive you.”

He pauses but forces himself to move. He can live and deal with her unforgiveness, sharp as it may be. 

“It’s not your forgiveness that matters now,” he says only that before walking away. This time, Sansa doesn’t run after him.

They bring the prisoner out to the place where Bran once witnessed his first beheading. There is no one there but the two of them. It would be so easy now to let Jon run, to let him go but duty closes his mouth. Jon was his brother but that was before the Nights Watch. There exists are no blood ties once you become a Black Brother (he wonders if that means what Jon and Sansa did wasn’t wrong then). It’s a stranger that you’re executing, not your brother, he reminds himself. It is hard to believe that thought when all he sees when he looks at him is the boy he used to be and his father all at once.

 There is so much of that boy still in Jon now. When they were children and dreaming of knights and glory, it had always been things that he could never have that he shouted for. The Dragon Knight and The Lord of Winterfell and Barriston Selmy. Why did you always have to want things that you could never have? He asked himself, suddenly angry. Jon had been the Lord Commander and respected by all. Why couldn’t that have been enough? Why did he have to have their sister as well?

“Well, I guess it’s time now.” He sounds exhausted. There are dark and heavy circles under his eyes. 

“Was it worth it? All of this? You’re going to die and you’re going to be remembered as an oathbreaker.” Jon only smiles sadly, but that is unsurprising. Jon has always been sad. Even when he was a child, staring up at them with hurt and resentful eyes he had been sad. He’s hoping and praying that Jon will say no, that’ll he say he regrets it. That he wants their sister and his brother more than he wants Sansa’s kiss. He would let him go in a moment if Jon said he did. If he allowed them to fall back into their normal family dynamics. 

“I don’t regret loving her.” He wants to pretend that this is brotherly love, that Jon is confessing his love for his sister rather than a lover. He wants to let him go but his face is too tender, too loving, too full of wist and longing to ever be mistaken for anything else. He unsheathes his sword. This is all the answer he needs to know. 
He enters Sansa’s room, not bothering to even knock. She looks up at him, her eyes shining with hope. She’s still that girl, the thought is hollow and empty, the same girl who believed in songs and good. She takes one look at his face though and he sees that faith and hope die. It is as if all the light in the world has been extinguished. He’s no longer the brother who would save her from all the monsters and kiss her pain away.

“Get out.” Her voice is empty and strange. He tries to open his mouth to say something kind or comforting but the words die in his mouth.

“Sansa.” This seems to awaken her and she runs towards him, hand rose up. He expects her to push him again or shout but she does none of that. His head whips to the side, cheek screaming in pain but his heart hurts more. The loud crack of the slap echoes through the room, loud and sharp. She raises her hand up again and slaps the other cheek.  She finally pushes him away from her.

“Get out!” She screams. He stumbles out of the door. Sansa’s pained wails rips tears through him but he can’t bring himself to look. Craven, you’re craven. She’s your little sister. He ignores and forgets that, he runs.

They find him hours later in the crypts, their faces panicked and scared. 
“My King,” they say, their voices hushed and gentle. “Your sister, she’s.”  

His realisation is a slow thing. It’s like he’s underwater, the sounds and colours blurred and muted and far away. But then there’s always that moment when everyone must come up for air. And when he comes up, everything smashes against him, so hard and fast in their hits that he’s dizzy from it. My little sister.

Meant to be

Daryl Dixon Imagine

You ran away with Carol and build yourself a new home outside of the Kingdom. When you start doubting your decision, fate comes knocking at your door…

word count: 2146

approximated reading time: 11 minutes

I didn’t want to go back. I had promised myself to stay out of all this, to keep to myself and stay human. I had lost grip of what others might have called humanity and I wasn’t willing to let go of it completely. I had seen what it did to people… Losing your humanity was like.. losing yourself. I couldn’t let that happen and more importantly I couldn’t let the others watch it happen. I couldn’t do that to Daryl. Knowing him he would have done anything to stop me, to bring me back and even though I knew it was wrong to leave him behind like that I had to do it. I had to in order to protect them. Or so I kept telling myself while I sat in front of the fire eating what little food I had left. Ezekiel came over every now and then even though I had told them not to. He brought food with him every time and I would lie if I said I wasn’t grateful for it.
Still, there was one thing I couldn’t deny: I was longing for Daryl. Leaving him behind hasn’t been easy but staying away from him was even harder. Especially these days…
My hands wandered down to my belly. It wasn’t just me anymore and wouldn’t it be unfair to keep this away from him? Or.. maybe it was the right thing to keep this away from him. He would dash out and fight Negan head on if he knew about the life growing inside of me, wouldn’t he?! That’s who he was, that’s whom I fell in love with…
I sighed deeply, unsure what to do. Was there a right thing to do? And if there was… what the hell was ‘the right thing’?!
A knock from the door brought me back to my senses. I stood up and straightened my clothes before I went to open the door expecting Ezekiel to be my guest. I expected his shy smile, explaining that he didn’t mean to bother me, that he happened to be around and decided to at least knock. When I opened the door I was surprised to see Morgan standing in front of it.
“Morgan?” I smiled at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry to bother you… I just thought you’d like some company.”
“I told you, I don’t want to see anyone…”
“I know and I didn’t mean to bother you, as I said. It’s just…”
I sighed deeply. “What is it? Did Ezekiel send you? I’m not coming back to the Kingdom. I already told him….” I looked down the street to Carol’s cabin. “And I’m not convincing Carol to get back to him either. We’re not some happy little family anymore.”

Keep reading

Sherlock’s ONE therapy session with Ella starts back in His Last Vow: It’s not Extended Mind Palace, it’s an Unreliable Narrator

Something’s up with The Six Thatchers. This was a blog post and case back in 2012 yet no one in the episode remembers that. Also the episode was trippy AF but what does that all mean? We have a lot of guesses, and I’ve just thought of one more, one I’m actually quite convinced of. It combines our “extended mind palace” idea with the Mycroft’s concept of “the unreliable narrator”. So here’s the thing: Sherlock met Ella at the end of The Six Thatchers but he recalls events from his life from before he shot Magnussen in His Last Vow, when John’s life/happiness was threatened and Sherlock had to give up everything to save him. Everything we’ve seen since Mary shot him has been a recount of events from Sherlock’s point of view, even placing himself in scenes he wasn’t actually in. This is why we see characters repeat lines other characters have said, even though they were never there to hear them. Sherlock’s recounting, throwing cases in where they don’t belong to fill in the gaps. Meaning the events immediately after Sherlock got shot by Mary are him recounting the situation to Ella and we wouldn’t know that until right now. 

So here’s the timeline:
–Mary Shoots Sherlock 
–Sherlock goes to the hospital and stays there for a long time to recover 
–Sherlock is not part of Mary’s reveal in the way we saw (Him scaling the hospital wall, moving John’s chair, setting up the I.V., the perfume, and rigging a projector was just him adding a touch of drama to embellish the story as he tells Ella ****this happens a lot, keep in mind*****)
–John doesn’t let Sherlock read the AGRA drive (so he assumes John hasn’t read it either, that would be the only reason to keep it from Sherlock)
–Sherlock calls Magnussen and makes a deal with him (Sherlock does not go to a restaurant in a hospital gown ***again, this is a touch of the dramatic for Ella’s benefit***) 
–John chooses Mary for reasons we do not know (Sherlock assumes it’s because of sentiment, but he wasn’t actually part of that scene so he’s simply guessing how it probably played out – he made sure to never have them use the words “I love you” because that would’ve hurt too much. Weird how Mary was at Sherlock’s mom’s house for Christmas? Yeah. She probably wasn’t there. But John and Mary reconciled that day, so Sherlock inserts that in his sphere. This happens more than once.)
–Sherlock kills Magnussen
–Sherlock gets high because he’s lost John Watson again (just like at the end of TSOT)
–Sherlock gives himself a Casablanca-type send off in order to tell John how he feels. Dramatic Bastard. Keep in mind he’s high as a kite, not on the tarmac, but hoping he could experience that movie moment with his leading man. This is why John doesn’t say much there or on that plane during TAB. The coke dream started after he shot Magnussen and envelopes all of TAB, but he tells Ella as if it’s real. 
–Mycroft doctors the footage, Sherlock never in danger of going to Eastern Europe because the tarmac/TAB wasn’t actually real. He’s still high at the beginning of TST, obviously. This is him coming down from the coke he took shortly after he killed Magnussen. 
–Sherlock is too absorbed in his phone (heart) to pay John and his new family any attention. He ignores John’s texts. He makes John feel like he’s equal to a balloon and a dog. He demands John take the bus.
–John, hurt, finds fleeting pleasure in a strange woman (This is what Sherlock thinks, at least. He’s seen all the signs. John losing weight, changing his hair, dressing nice, spending time away from both him and Mary – what else is Sherlock to think? What else are we to think? Keep reading and I’ll tell you). 
–The Six Thatchers case isn’t happening in real time – it happened years ago but Sherlock kept the best parts in order to better relay what’s happening with the AGRA stick. In the blog post, the murder weapon was a penknife with initials on it, shoved in a Thatcher bust. The mirror here is clear. All that we need to take from this is Mary’s past has come back to haunt her. 
–Mary leaves John to go to Morocco. John follows – Without Sherlock. John catches her and brings her back to London. Didn’t it feel weird when John and Mary were having a really intimate moment and Sherlock was just… sitting there absorbing it all? That’s because he wasn’t there, this is how he assumed things went in Morocco. Which means he wasn’t on that plane sitting awkwardly behind Mary and far from John. We see Sherlock with his eyes closed, sleeping. That’s also when he sees John thinking of the other woman. Sherlock tells Ella he has a reoccurring dream about John –  he’s dreaming about what he fears John is most-likely absorbed in: finding fleeting happiness in yet another woman. 
–Mary’s death scene is being recounted from Sherlock’s POV, meaning real events are very similar, but off. Sherlock believes Mary took a bullet for him, apologized, and John wept for the love of his life. Just because we saw it doesn’t mean it’s real. Just because Sherlock believes she’s dead doesn’t mean she actually is. Trust nothing.

This theory explains why Mary calls Sherlock the Dragon-slayer, something Mycroft said. It explains why The Six Thatchers was a case twice. It explains why Norbury quoted Moriarty from TGG. It explains why Sherlock is so hung up on premonitions: John and Mary in TST followed exactly what Sherlock dreamt about with the Carmichaels in TAB. 

So. That was long! But all of this has one question dangling in the air: What’s actually been going on with John this whole time? If he reconciled with Mary, follows her abroad, is spending time away from his family, and is in cahoots with a woman he met on the bus, it would point to John becoming a plant/agent himself working behind Sherlock’s back to destroy an invisible threat. This is why the end of The Six Thatchers mirrors the end of The Reichenbach Fall – except the characters are switched. John pushed Sherlock away, lied to him, left him a note, and distanced himself. Sherlock goes to the therapist and grows the facial hair.
The woman on the bus sits right next to a poster of Culverton Smith. Many have suggested she’s actually a part of something far larger than we can see yet. 

The last thing I’ll leave you with, and correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t Setlock show Martin Freeman filming on a camel? Alone? Why would he be the only one on the camel if both he and Sherlock went to Morocco? 

That’s because Sherlock didn’t follow him to Morocco when he tracked down Mary. Sherlock inserted himself somewhere to better tell us the story. 

This is part of their rug pull coming up. The unsettling nature of The Six Thatchers is meant to make us ask questions about what we can and cannot trust with our own eyes. Is it a bluff? Or a double bluff? Is he alive or is he dead? How could he be alive if I saw the blood on the roof? How could he be alive if I saw him fall?

The writers are giving us the same doubt felt by the characters. 

Welcome to Hell. 

Keep reading


❛ It is a good life we lead, brother/sister. ❜
❛ The best. May it never change. ❜
❛ You should find an outlet. ❜
❛ I meant besides vaginas. ❜
❛ I thought… I thought I was beyond this. ❜
❛ I’ve waited too long, lost too much. ❜
❛ I’m surprised to see you here. ❜
❛ Afraid to handle things your self? ❜
❛ This is my destiny. ❜
❛ Get it over with then. ❜
❛ Don’t you know what lies within? ❜
❛ It’s not approval I’m after, just power. ❜
❛ Are you so naïve? ❜
❛ I’m sorry, were you hoping for a confession? ❜  
❛ You met the fate you deserved! ❜
❛ Piece of shit! I only wish you’d suffered more! ❜
❛ Show some respect! ❜
❛ It was great, being shoved in the trunk, bouncin’ around. ❜  
❛ Okay, guess I better get started. ❜
❛ We’ve been at this a lot longer than you. ❜
❛ Did you honestly think I wouldn’t expect you to follow? ❜
❛ How do you expect me to respond? ❜  
❛ How many people have died for this? ❜
❛ Come and take it from me. ❜
❛ You claim not to be a believer. ❜
❛ Everything is permitted. ❜
❛ Nothing is true, everything is permitted. ❜
❛ Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember… ❜
❛ You will die by my hand, just like your father. ❜
❛ This is a losing battle for you. ❜
❛ And look- There’s nobody here! ❜
❛ For what’s in this box? ❜
❛ That I didn’t plan for it? ❜
❛ Respect? After all that’s happened? ❜
❛ Let’s see what you are made of, old man/woman! ❜
❛ No more tricks, no more ancient artifacts, no more weapons. ❜
❛ It’s all lies and superstition. ❜
❛ It gave me power! ❜
❛ And yet you dismiss the central text of your Faith? ❜
❛ You think a couple of ancient relics can harm him/her. ❜
❛ Whatever lies beyond that wall won’t be able to resist. ❜
❛ I don’t care. It’s not approval I’m after, just power. ❜
❛ When you open that door? ❜
❛ A more logical location than a kingdom on a cloud, don’t you think? ❜
❛ I’ve always had a soft spot for women in distress. ❜
❛ What the fuck? ❜
❛ No. Killing you won’t bring my family back.  ❜
❛ You can’t. You can’t! This is my destiny. MINE! ❜
❛ It’s your family that cries for guards when there’s trouble. ❜
❛ I thought I was beyond this. But I’m not. ❜
❛ I have plenty of outlets! ❜
❛ And may it never change us. ❜
❛ I’m done. ❜
❛ May it never change. And may it never change us. ❜
❛ We were just talking about you. ❜
❛ You never were. ❜
❛ I am the prophet! ❜
❛ Killing you won’t bring my family back. I’m done. ❜  
❛ What do you even want with the ______? ❜
❛ Figure out what? ❜
❛ Surrounded by singing angels and cherubim. ❜
❛ And you think she/he’ll give it up? ❜
❛ God is meant to be all knowing. All powerful. ❜
❛ You know nothing, boy/girl. ❜
❛ Do you think I believe a single god-damned word of that ridiculous book? ❜
❛ It gave me access! It gave me power! ❜
❛ I only wish you’d suffered more!  ❜
❛ Do you think he/she would have shown either of us such kindness? ❜
❛ Thanks for that. Loved it… ❜
❛ I will cut you down, Assassin! ❜
❛ That I didn’t plan for it? We’ve been at this a lot longer than you. ❜
CaptainSwan One-Two-Three Shots  Recs p.3

Hello Beautiful Fandom, here is a list of some wonderful one, two and three shots that I ‘ve read and enjoyed. Let’s show our talented writers some love and support, thank you all for the stories you share with us. Hope you enjoy. 

You can also find the first part here and the second here


All our friends want us to fall in love,  @julietohara

“I don’t do relationships,” she says as Killian takes a large bite out of his half of the grilled cheese. He raises an eyebrow at the non sequitur.

“Okay,” Killian says, dragging the word out, once his mouth is no longer full.

“I just don’t want you to get any ideas about what this,” she motions between them, “is. I’m not interested in anything more than what we’re doing now.”

(emma swan meets killian jones at a wedding. you know where that leads.)

The greatest sandcastle in the history of sandcastles, @a-city-dove and  @the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt 

Killian was not expecting this turn of events. Of all people he could’ve been teamed up with for the sandcastle competition, he ends up teamed with Emma Swan.

You don’t wanna be my boyfriend,   @swallowedsong

they met in jail (trumped up charges, they swear!) and somehow, they keep meeting. and meeting. and meeting.

Inter office relations,  @a-fictional-life

Secretly dating coworker.

Not Quite a Coffee Shop AU @a-fictional-life

She needs a second job and The Library needs a barista. Who knew she would end up with more than free coffee?

Missed Connections,  @captainswanluver

Emma Swan doesn’t think she’ll ever see the handsome stranger she spilled coffee all over again. Killian Jones doesn’t believe he’ll ever see the beautiful blonde who ruined his shirt. So they couldn’t be more surprised when their paths keep crossing, only to find that something keeps standing in the way of them making a lasting connection. But when you keep meeting the same person over and over again in a city of 8 million people, is it mere coincidence or fate?

While You Were Sleeping, @captainswanluver

Officer Rogers doesn’t know who the blonde woman is that he found lying unconscious in front of his apartment building. And he certainly can’t explain the immediate connection he feels towards her or why he feels the need to visit her in the hospital everyday.

Faking It, @phiralovesloki

Killian Jones had just been joking when he’d told Emma Swan they were actually married. But in his defense, the doctors hadn’t mentioned that her concussion had given her amnesia.

Of Dates And Misunderstandings,   @word-bug

Drunk Emma makes questionable life choices - signing up to a dating website being one of them. It was a way to blow off steam fending advances of sleazeballs, until it wasn’t. Her life takes an interesting turn when a message from a guy, who shares a name with the actor she hates, pops up. It’s easy to fall for him but is Killian Jones really what she was expecting him to be?

Hold On, @lifeinahole27

we promised to stay friends but we’re doing the same stuff we did when we were a couple and i don’t wanna point it out because i don’t want it to stop.

Marshmallows vs Cinnamon, @emmaswanchoosesyou

Emma and Killian are keeping a secret from her brother, David, and his wife. And the secret isn’t that cinnamon in cocoa trumps cocoa with marshmallows.

Always look forward, @joneskillian 

“I need to break into this classroom to get my pencil bag back, and someone told me that you’re good at picking locks sTOP LAUGHING I NEED MY PENCILS”.

World’s End,  @justanotherwannabeclassic

f it’s the end of the word, then I want to be with you.” (Captain Swan College AU).

Survivors, @tnlph

CS Survivor AU.

Roomies, @thesschesthair

‘Captain Cobra as roommates under the curse’ and so I tried to deliver. I hope this is okay. Mild vague spoilers for season 7.

Prompt, @thesschesthair

That damn paul mccartney, @jmosfreckles

“We bumped into each other in the street and you were grinning like a cocky asshole the whole time so i stalked off only to realize i’m wearing your shirt ”.


When Killian met Emma, @lenfaz

They met when they were 22, fresh out of college and ready to embark on a two-day journey. Killian was looking for a partner for the trip that would take him to his new work in advertising in a new city. His former roommate David had mentioned that his girlfriend’s friend, Emma, was headed to Chicago to work in social services. Friends with Benefits AU.

The Fallout of Fall Festival, @beardetective

Emma and Killian were well on their way to becoming an official ampersand couple in their small town of Storybrooke, Maine, until a surprise visitor caused a rift between them. 

Last call, @luscipher

Best friends (of sorts) turned lovers (of sorts) AU, just a short little two-shot filled with fluff, banter, and— dare I say it— a smidgen of crack.

The Favor,   @madjm

Emma Swan doesn’t do relationships, but her annoyingly attractive neighbor, Killian Jones, might change her views. 

Sexy Retribution, @thatsmuchbetter

Offering her help to her boyfriend’s brother, Emma had no idea what she was getting herself into. Jealous!Killian. 



X-Factor,  @midnightswans

When Emma Swan auditioned X- Factor as singer, the last thing she was expecting was being put as group with the most dashing, but a really pain in the ass, man Killian Jones. Singer!Killian Singer!Emma 

 Best laid plans, @emmaswanchoosesyou

  Everyone wants Ruby Lucas, but she has her eyes on one person and one person alone. When neither Emma nor Killian are the one she chooses, they turn to each other. Friends with benefits, friends…and maybe more, if their other friends and family have any say in the matter.

Let’s Just Be Us, @cutieodonoghue

Based upon a prompt about rockstar!Killian and movie star!Emma secretly dating, but those pesky fans figure it out.

Pharaoh Harsiese (Harry Styles AU Imagine)

“Can you believe I’ll be chief wife to Harsiese the Magnificent, Nafretiri?” My eighteen year old sister, Shamise, exclaims as she greedily drapes a shining, gold necklace across her neck where it gently grazed her breasts.

Her silver eyes glitter as the sun set and casted a ray of light from the open door on the balcony and her ebony hair and skin glistened from the oils her body servants had put on her during her bath.

My lighter, green eyes trail from the window where I watched the pomegranate tree, that my mother planted years ago before she died, sway in the slight wind, in the small garden that was mine and my mother’s old happy place, to her as I try to hide my frown. It was the first month of Shemu and the days were becoming hotter. Our ladies fanned us from the heat, trying to stop us from sweating as the Nile flooded.

I was sad to leave it, to leave my home in Akhmim and go to Thebes, where Pharaoh Harsiese resided in the Malkata palace, to help my older sister as she fought for Pharaoh’s approval over his other wife of five years, Bahiti.

Pharaoh Harsiese had been in power since I was young and the Romans invaded even though he was only a few years older than I. He was nearly fourteen when he become Pharaoh and now he is twenty and I sixteen. The people of Egypt adored him as he took over and saved our country from starvation and poverty with the help of the viziers.

They didn’t mind how different he looked from the past pharaohs; how his skin paled during Peret, the colder months, and how his hair was the color of the sand that covered the ground. To them, he was a god and from what I had seen and heard, he looked like one.

The first and only time I saw him was when I was almost fourteen and he eighteen. He was being carried on a gold and lapis litter through the streets, waving to his people, with his wife, Bahiti by his side as they showed off their newborn son. He was absolutely breathtaking and for a moment, I was jealous of my sister who has always been promised to him.

Sadly, a few months after, their son died in the night, smothered himself in his sleep by his own blanket, and they have yet to have another child. It was said the pharaoh was getting impatient, demanding a child and an heir from Bahiti soon or he would throw her into a harem.

That’s why my father, one of the most respected viziers to the royal family, took his chance and is finally making Shamise take Harsiese’s attention and become chief wife.

I go to answer my sister’s question, that she asks at least twice a day, when the door to the room opens and our father walks in, his smile immediately becoming adoring as he lays his eyes on his two daughters.

“Senit,” he leans down and kisses my head lovingly as he whispers the word for little girl before doing the same for Shamise. I pet my beloved cat, Khensu, meaning traveler of the sky, as he slept peacefully in my lap. I named him after the God of the moon as he loved to explore at night.

“Are you ready for the travels?” He asks us as we both nod, my eyes trailing to the window again where the servants were loading our heavy chests. My sister leaned over the window to look down when she heard a sudden ruckus and scowled.

“Be careful with that! It’s worth more than your life and what we paid for you,” she hisses as I frown and look down. I hated when she was rude to others. I could never find the way to be mean to someone, even if they were lower in class.

“Nafretiri,” my father suddenly speaks, making my head shoot up. He gives me a soft smile, holding out his hand which I grab, placing Khensu on the floor as he leads us out of the room.

“Your eyes are like a cat’s in the sun, senit. Green as the emeralds that line the palace thrones,” he says as we walk out into the garden. I instantly pull off my sandals to feel the cool, fertile silt against my toes as I lean down to inspect my mother’s mandrakes that I continue to take care of.

I smile lightly at my father’s words, looking up at him. “I don’t think you brought me out here to talk about my eyes,” I say as he chuckles and nods.

“Nafretiri, when we arrive at the palace and your sister becomes chief wife, it is your duty to make sure she stays well behaved and remembers the task at hand. She is hot tempered and you, my girl, must help her. You have patience and kindness, little cat, unlike your sister. She must become pregnant with Harsiese’s heir in the first year or she will be thrown into a harem just like he’s threatening Bahiti. Our family’s fate lies in your hands.”

I listen to his words as I stare at the ground. It was going to be hard to make sure my sister stayed in line. She was wild as a bird, never staying in one place, and had the bite of a cobra when someone upset her. She frightened even me on occasions and I instantly prayed that I wouldn’t be over my head.

I fear that is not the case.

Reeds, lotus, and cattails lined the banks of the muddy Nile as our barge carried us to the City of Pharaohs. My breath was caught in my throat in jealously as I watched my sister parade around in a sheer, white dress that accentuated her curves as rare, glistening jewels and a gold collar sparkled in the afternoon sun as they hung from her throat. She looked beautiful, like always, as her honeyed, tan shoulders and obsidian hair caught the eyes on the slaves as they rowed.

My own dress was as green as my eyes with gold accents, my dark ebony hair was in several braids and pushed back with a gold headband. My sister warned me I had to look plain, but not too plain, and have her be the first one Harsiese sees so he will fall in love with her instantly and not me. I told her she didn’t have to worry about that earning a laugh and shake of the head as she marched off to bark more orders to the servants.

The fact that she was about to become chief wife to the pharaoh of all of Upper and Lower Egypt was beginning to be unsettling, but I wisely kept my mouth shut.

As we grew closer to the palace, the water became clearer, shining like liquid lapis and silver as it glittered in the light. Many boats and ships lined the banks as men, women, and children pushed and shoved to see just a glimpse of the future chief wife of the great pharaoh.

“Great Osiris,” I whisper to myself as I see the Elders being carried high in their shining litters and hundreds of soldiers and slaves waiting for our arrival. As we stepped onto the bank, we were all escorted to our individual curtained litter and picked up as they slowly carried us to the palace.

I smile as I watch musicians entertain the growing crowds and close my eyes as the beautiful flutes play as we passed the sandstone homes that the people of Thebes lived in. I knew Harsiese was an avid music lover, as was I, and I knew he would be disappointed when he realized Shamise was not.

Entering the Malkata Palace was overwhelming. Sweet perfumes of incense wafted down the hall made of beautiful alabaster stone, the walls beautifully covered in bright tiles and paintings of papyrus fields and the Nile. I trail my hands across the magnificent art work, happy that my new home was so exquisite.

We were escorted to our own rooms where body servants helped us bathe and I was happy as they rubbed rich lavender oil into my skin as it always helped calm my nerves. My tanned skin shone from the oil as they wrapped another green dress around my body, accentuating my small waist and long legs while pushing my breasts up slightly.

The body servants then spent hours expertly lining mine and Shamise’s lips with red rouge, our eyes with thick, black kohl and mine rimmed with malachite making my green, cat like eyes even more intense, and hennaed our breasts with intricate, gorgeous designs.

After they placed heavy, hot Nubian wigs covered in braids and beads on our head before securing them with beeswax and resin. Soft creams were massaged into our skin making it silky smooth, sweet smelling perfumes spritzed between our breasts and neck, and gold and silver dust was blown softly from their palms until our bodies were covered all the way to our feet.

Looking down at the bath water I emerged from and seeing my reflection, I almost gasped.

For once, I felt beautiful next to my sister.

“You look like Isis herself,” my body servant whispered to me, making my cheeks heat up. It was rare I ever received a compliment as my sister normally stole every man and woman’s attention.

“Thank you,” I whisper back, gently giving her arm a small squeeze making her gasp lightly. I ignored it knowing why she reacted that way. They were rarely shown any kindness.

Soon, the servant stand and open the doors before turning to us. My breath catches as the utter the words,

“Are you ready to meet the the great Harsiese, Pharaoh of Egypt?”


The music and festivities could be heard from the other side of the palace as we neared the large doors. Shamise gripped my hand tightly, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “Stay behind me. He must see me first.”

I nod as the doors slowly creak open and I could instantly feel a million eyes on us. My cheeks heat up instantly, my instincts telling me to shyly bow my head but instead I keep my head high like my sister. I had to get used to this; a world of constant watching.

We are greeted by a herald who clears his throat before loudly and grandly introducing us, which was very unnecessary since everyone’s attention was already on us.

“The Lady Shamise, daughter of Mehu, Senior Vizier of Egypt.”

Gasps fill the Great Hall as she takes a step forward and the endless chatter faltered instantly. I bite my lip as I step closer to the herald.

“The Lady Nafretiri, daughter of Mehu, Senior Vizier of Egypt.”

Whispers pick up making my heart rate start to thump wildly in my chest, my eyes darting left and right. Their eyes were burning into my skin  as I step forward and begin to walk towards the Horus thrones where Pharaoh and his wife sat. I see my father in the crowd and he gives me a proud nod, making me feel a bit more confident. 

As we approached closer, I feel an intense stare on my face but I ignore it, my eyes on my feet as I make sure I don’t trip and make a fool of myself. Arriving in front of the thrones, we both bow deeply with our arms outstretched.


A deep, raspy voice that reminded me of pure honey spoke dominantly sending a feeling of sparks through my veins. I wondered if Shamise felt the same as we both stood up straight. 

My eyes finally move from my feet and come in contact with the most brilliant green eyes that looked like they were mixed with pure gold. I hold in my gasp as I allow myself to be drowned in their depths.

The owner of the most gorgeous eyes adorned the Nemes crown, the royal head cloth that was striped blue and gold. In the center held the Uraeus, the golden cobra crown with its hood flared that symbolized kingship. Stories say that it was able to spit fire into the eyes of the wearer’s enemies, blinding them permanently.

Pharaoh Harsiese

What shocked me the most was how the eyes were looking straight at me and not my sister.

“Harsiese,” my sister begins earning an stern, out reached hand, cutting her off.

“Silence,” he commands making my blood run cold at the sound, his eyes never leaving mine as he demands silence from my sister, the girl who was supposed to be his chief wife. From the corner of my eye, I see my sister deflate and glare at me but I can’t find myself to care.

My breathing catches in my throat as I stop myself from collapsing as he regally stands, sweeping his dark blue cape behind him as he slowly walks down the stairs towards me, his eyes still never leaving mine. His body was one of the gods, lean and full of muscle from battles at war.

The room was silent as he soon stands directly in front of me. The scent of him almost made my eyes roll back in pleasure as I inhale the rosemary oil mixed with the musk of his own body.

“Nafretiri,” he speaks lowly, his voice even more beautiful as it spoke my name. My mouth gapes slightly as I try to say something back but nothing comes out. He smiles playfully, his hand gently reaching up and caressing my chin as he closes my mouth.

Sparks dance across my skin wherever his fingers trail. “Beautiful creation. Your mawat named you well,” he comments making my cheeks heat up for the third time of the evening as he speaks the meaning of my name my mother chose. His smile becomes even brighter at the sight.

“Miw-sher,” he whispers the word ‘kitten’ as his eyes admire my face and body. “You are now mine.”

I barely have time to react before he turns and grabs my hand, raising it up. “Bow before your new, soon-to-be queen,” he exclaims loudly as I finally remember to breathe, my chest heaving dramatically as I watch the entire room, including my sister, bow before Pharaoh Harsiese and me.


I tried something different! Hope you like it! Give me some feedback please! It will mean a lot and I’ll try to post Part 2 soon if you want it! x