#me: you signed the contract when you chose to come from the same womb

[happypeachsludgeflower]

I was chattering my sister’s ear off on the phone earlier about the tgcf brother!huaqing fanfic I’m writing and she was hmn-ing along sounding like she kinda wanted to die (she’s never watched or read a mxtx story and did not understand anything I was saying).

And somewhere along the way the connection cut my ramble short (no clue when though because I just kept talking) and now she’s not answering her texts…

I have been ghosted by my own sister.

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - iv (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The wedding and the consummation.

Warnings: poorly written SMUT (18+. Minors DNI), loss of virginity, mentions of character death, I forget to put this but there is an AGE GAP between Steve and the reader (the ages aren’t explicitly noted, Oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, breeding (but it’s not a kink?), Steve’s not an asshole (omg wow)

Word Count: 4k (got carried away)

Bring Him Light Masterlist

I hope you guys enjoy!

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

Two days went by quickly. It was a blur. In a blink of an eye, you weren’t standing in front of Steven in the halls of the castle, but was dawning on your wedding gown for the final time as your ladies and your mother fawned around you, trying to get you ready.

Wanda fluffed out the skirt and then fiddled with your hair, opting for a regal updo. Your mother smiled at you through the mirror as she smoothed out your shoulder. Natasha added the vail as soon as Wanda was finished.

“Don’t cry, mother,” you muttered when you noticed her teary eyes. She gave you a tight lipped smile as she laughed a bit and dabbed her eyes.

“Two weeks ago, you tried to run away because you didn’t want this day to come. Now, you’re standing before me in a wedding dress as the beautiful, blushing bride. I wonder what’s changed.” Your mother said. You detected a hint of sorrow in her voice. You deducted that it was her coming to realize that you were no longer her baby girl. You were to become a woman that night and crowned a queen soon enough.

“I’m still a virgin mother,” you lightly joked in an attempt to brighten her mood. It worked. She rolled her eyes and laughed. Natasha and Wanda giggled as they did the finishing touches.

You were trembling as you stood at the top of the staircase. You heard murmurs of excitement in the floor beneath you. Everyone eager to see the merge of House York and House Rogers. You stared at the bouquet in your shaking hands. White roses accented with tiny forget-me-nots. Wanda told you that King Steven handpicked them in the gardens.

You glanced back at Natasha who gave you an encouraging nod as the organ began to play. The crowd quickly fell into silence as you slowly descended from the top of the staircase. Each step was a weight being lifted from you. It became easier and easier – almost to the point where you felt as if you were floating as light as air.

Your father met you at the bottom of the staircase. He smiled at you as you revealed yourself to him for the very first time. He wasn’t teary-eyed like your mother. Perhaps it was because as a king – as a man – he refused to show any weakness.

“You look beautiful,” he muttered to you as he presented you his arm and you took it.

You weren’t sure where to look as you rounded the corner and made it to the open throne room doors. You felt all the stares on you at once. It made you want to shrink into yourself – disappear if you could. So, instead, you kept your own stare straight and you were glad you did.

At the end of the aisle stood King Steven. His hair had been cut and his beard was gone. He looked like his portraits. But there was something different. Perhaps it was the faint smile on his lips that quivered at the sight of you. Wait… No… it was the eyes. Portraits made his blue eyes, dark, cold, unnerving.

But in this light, the man standing, waiting for you to be at his side, had different eyes. Tearful yet joyful. Excited. He stared at you with adoration. The sunset that poured in through the massive windows made him a sight to behold.

Your father gave you a kiss on the forehead and a small nod as he pulled his arm away from you. He handed you over to the other king. The two exchanged a look. A father giving warning to his daughter’s future husband. Treat her right, your father’s look said.

You turned and handed your bouquet to Natasha before you and Steven kneeled before the bishop. The wedding contracts were brought out. Steven signed first. Your hands trembled as you took a grip on the quill. You glanced over at your parents, who smiled and nodded. There was no going back now – and perhaps, you didn’t want to. With a deep breath, you signed your name and the ceremony continued.

»————-　⚜　————-««

You fiddled with the tassels of the cloak that was wrapped around your shoulders. It was a Brooken tradition that the husband wraps his bride in a cloak, or a tapestry of some kind, to bring her under his protection. The music blared on as excited chatter flooded the hall.

You were exhausted and had just finished dancing with your husband. The entire kingdom – or at least the ones who were in the castle – saw a change in the king. They remembered his last wedding to Queen Sharon many years before and how he danced with his bride once before retiring to his seat for the entire evening.

That king was gone. They knew it from the moment he refused to let you leave the dancefloor, making you dance with him for what felt like ages. The king who rarely smiled or laughed was like a child on Christmas when he stared down at you, when he held you to him, when he kissed you gently on the lips.

The change was welcomed though whispers about your demise was still being spread. Sure, the king seemed happy now. They hoped you would make him happy for the rest of his life, but the idea that King Steven’s queens were cursed or the idea that the king kills his wives still hung in the air. But no one dared bring it up on this day. This day was to be a joyous day. Brooken has a new queen. Their king has a new wife.

As the night dwindled down, you’ve lost count of how many lords and ladies bowed before you and your husband, all wishing you blessings and fruitful lives. Many meant it. King Steven was the last of his line and without an heir, the throne would go to Brock Rumlow who others despised. They wished that you would bring the king a son. Many envious ladies bowed before you, all who wished they were the one at the king’s side. Even Lord Rumlow and Lord Pierce toasted to your health and happy marriage.

A woman came up to the royal table. She was the date of one of Steven’s distant cousins – far too distant that he had no chance of gaining support to take the throne in the event the king dies without an heir. You heard the whispers and snickers from the ladies of the court the moment the woman arrived. “Witch,” they said. Neither you nor Steven believed in magic but decided to entertain the woman out of respect for his cousin. As distant as he may have been, he was still family.

She began muttering foreign words. Gasps erupting around you. The foreign words, from a witch of all people, was perceived as a threat – was she cursing you? Was she wishing death upon you or the king? Your father stood up in outrage as did your husband. His cousin put up his hands when guards started to surround them.

“It’s a fertility spell, your majesties!” He defended. “A fertility spell for the new bride’s womb!” Steven visibly relaxed, settling back into his seat. His hand found yours underneath the table. You tried to soothe him and rubbed small circles with your thumb although you were also rattled, thinking this woman might been the cause of the “cursed wives” rumor. You clenched your jaw and thanked his cousin and the woman as soon as she finished.

“I find that mildly offensive,” your father said as soon as he left. You laughed although you subtly felt the same.

“He’s a distant cousin.” Steven reminded, slightly embarrassed that someone from his family had the audacity to bring in “magical” assistance – and here everyone in Brooken thought the Starks were a strange family.

“Of course,” you chuckled. He glanced over at you, entranced by your smile. The dress, the flowers, everything made you look angelic. Steven couldn’t help himself but lean in and capture your lips with his.

“Well, I guess it’s time, then.” Your father said with a chuckle. You pulled away from your husband’s lips and felt heat rise to your cheeks. It felt strange showing affection in front of your parents, especially since a fortnight ago you were refusing to marry the king you now called your husband.

It was announced that you and the king would retire for the consummation. The music played on as your guests continued to dance and socialize among themselves. As you both excited the hall, there were whoops and cheers from the crowd. Some whispered and hoped that you would conceive Brooken’s heir this night. Your husband gave your hand a last kiss before you were swept away by your ladies to prepare for your wedding night.

Wanda had undone your hair as soon as Natasha managed to undo all laces of the corset. You bit at your fingernails nervously as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You were pale. A fear stricken young lady stood before you. Shivering and frightened, unsure of how tonight’s events would play out.

“Will it hurt?” You asked the two though you didn’t quite know why. They were both unwed. They were still maidens. Surely, they wouldn’t have any advice.

Wanda and Natasha glanced at one another, unsure of what to say. Should they lie to their queen? Say whatever they can to ease your nerves and lure you into a false sense of security when you lay with your husband for the first time? Or should they be truthful to their friend? Tell you the stories they hear from the whispers of other married women and the courtesans that entertained the unwed lords?

They chose to prepare you for what’s to come. There was no use in lying.

“It may, but just relax and breathe through it,” Natasha offered with a nervous smile. “The ladies say the men like to do the work, so let him work.”

Wanda put the cloak back on your shoulders, covering your night slip and your body underneath the heavy fabric. “Breathing is good.” She nodded. She wasn’t quite sure what else to tell you either. Your friend wanted to tell you that if it hurt too much to tell the king to stop, but she knew the advice would be pointless. As queen – as the king’s wife – it was your duty to bear him children at whatever cost and the marriage had to be consummated.

“We should go…” Natasha muttered. She put her hands on your shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

-=+=-

You were in the king’s bedchambers first. You were surprised to see that it was empty. You expected Steven to be inside already waiting for you. Your ladies bid you their farewells as they left, leaving you to sit on the giant bed and contemplate. You were shaking. Your leg started to bounce against the floor.

As you got lost in your thoughts, the chamber doors opened to reveal Steven. He wore a white night shirt with matching trousers. You gulped as you stood up, straightening out your nightgown and interlocking your fingers in front of your stomach. This was happening.

“How should you have me?” You asked. Your voice was barely above a whisper and shook as you spoke. Steven didn’t respond. The silence was deafening and you couldn’t bare sit in it for any longer.

He smiled. “Pardon?” He heard you, but he just wanted to hear you say it again. So, you repeated the words. Steven bit his lip that curled into a grin and shook his head, a laugh escaping him. Your face fell… was he not interested in you? Did you not … did you not arouse him? As if reading your mind, he rushed in front of you and took your hands in his. “I do not laugh to make fun of you, (Y/N). I simply found it amusing.”

“You find me amusing… and not arousing?” You questioned, feeling doubt and insecure.

He shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I simply mean that I have not heard a woman ask me that before I bedded her.” He pressed another kiss to your temple, inhaling that intoxicating scent. “I want you to enjoy this… This is your first after all.” He began to kiss his way down from your temple to your cheek, to your jaw, to your neck. You relished in the feeling, a tingling sensation taking over your body as he left open-mouthed kisses on the delicate skin of your neck. “If you’re uncomfortable, if it hurts – if I hurt you, please let me know.”

You nodded. You couldn’t find the words. Maybe it was because of your nerves, or perhaps you were drowning in the feeling of his lips on your skin. You weren’t quite sure.

He removed the cloak from your shoulders and began to kiss down to your collarbones as his fingers slowly began to unravel the loose ties of your nightgown. You were shaking, still. Before he considered pulling the gown off, he leaned in, ghosting over your lips with his before planting one gentle kiss.

“Are you okay?” He asked, cupping your jaw with one hand. You nodded. “Truthfully?”

“I’m frightened.” You admitted.

“Don’t be. I’ll be careful and if you tell me to stop, I will. God willing, we will have a lifetime of conceiving heirs ahead of us. It needn’t be done this night.”

“We must consummate the marriage.”

“Not at the expense of your comfort.”

“Please…” You murmured. “Please just touch me.”

Without another word, his lips found yours again. His hands scrunched at the skirt of the slip and slowly brought it up and over your body. He took a moment to admire you as the chilly night air met your skin. Goosebumps rose on your skin although you weren’t sure if it was from the air or from Steven’s stare. You felt your face flush as your hands instinctively tried to cover yourself.

“You’re beautiful,” Steven said. Gently unwrapping your arms from your body as if you were a present. He led you to the massive bed. His eyes never left yours as he removed his nightshirt, baring himself to you.

Your eyes widened. Of course, you were aware of the king’s massive build. His fancy clothes and coats did not hide his shoulders very well. He was like one of his sculptures – absolutely breathtaking. He slowly started to pull his trousers down, so you bashfully looked away, feeling your face heat up even more.

Steven crawled over you, placing a tender kiss to your lips. His hands brushed your hair away from your face, cupping you with his massive palms. You felt something hard rub against your thigh. You weren’t naïve enough to be unsure of what it was… You knew.

He licked at your bottom lip. You weren’t sure what that meant so you paid it no mind. One of his hands abandoned your face and slowly slithered down to your slickening folds. You moaned when he stroked against a bud within the folds. He took the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth and you didn’t hate the feeling.

You remembered Natasha’s advice – “let him work” – and decided to let him dominate the kiss and the pace. Your skin tingled as your lower region increasingly became heated underneath Steven’s ministrations.

He kissed your lips once more before slowly descending down your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin. Your eyes widened in realization and embarrassment as you tried to pull yourself from underneath him, but his hands grabbed at your thighs and held you in place.

“Steven – “

“Trust me.” He muttered, staring up at you from between your thighs. When you relaxed into his touch, he gave one broad-tongued lick to your folds. The sensation made you threw your head back into the pillows with your eyes closed.

Steven pulled apart your lower lips and focused his tongue on the same bud. You couldn’t hold in the moans that escaped you. Your hands blindly lost themselves in his golden locks. You couldn’t help imagine how this would feel if Steven hadn’t shaved his beard.

He had you gasping. Your walls were clenching around nothing until he slowly inserted a finger. You flinched, but his tongue working its way through you dulled the ache. With the single finger, he stroked against your walls, exploring your tight channel. A coil started to tighten in your stomach. He groaned against your cunt and your thighs clenched his head, holding him in place – not that he minded.

Another finger was pushed into you which caused you to squeak. A spark was sent through your body. “Steven…” you murmured, but he didn’t respond, too caught up in you. He thrusted and curled his fingers as you clenched. His tongue was relentless as if you were a fine wine that he couldn’t get enough of. “St – Steven…” You moaned your husband’s name as you felt the coil snap and you felt yourself gush around the king’s fingers. He returned your moan with his own as he lapped up your juices.

Your chest was rising and falling heavily as your thighs released their hold on the king’s head. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his smirk. His lips and chin shined in the candlelight. His tongue darted out of his mouth, lapping up what was left of you on his lips and fingers, using the back of his hand to wipe away his chin.

“You alright?” He asked you.

“Wh – What happened?”

Steven smiled at you. You were so innocent. You were a sight to behold beneath him. Naked with your exposed skin covered in a sheen of sweat and lips swollen from his kiss. “You orgasmed,” he told you. You flushed at his words. “Are you ready, my love?” You nodded.

It was only then you saw his member for the first time. Your eyes widened at the sight. You remembered your comment to one of your father’s councilmen – “men who are well endowed give their wives sons.”

If you did fall pregnant this night, you were certain that the king would breed a son within you.

Steven was kneeling between your knees. He bent your legs and widened them, giving him a better look at your dripping cunt. He pumped his member a few times and teased you with the tip.

You took a deep breath and winced as the head penetrated you. Slowly, he started to push into you, watching his cock enter you. You felt your entire body clench as you struggled to accommodate to his sizeable girth.

The pressure, the stretch it felt unbearable. You winced and groaned out in pain. Steven stopped moving.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“It… It’s fine.” You answered with a strained voice. The king shook his head and began to retreat from within you, but you shook your head as your legs unraveled to wrap around his torso, keeping him in place. His movements halted as he stared at you with concern. “Keep going…” You begged. “Please…”

Hesitantly, the king began to push into you again. After long beats of intense pressure and the feeling of being torn open, the king had finally sheathed his length into your maidenhood. He leaned over your body so that he completely entrapped you underneath him. He peppered your face – cheeks, forehead, nose, lips, anything his lips could touch – with light kisses as he whispered sweet nothings and praises into your ear.

“Can I move?” He whispered. You nodded.

Slowly, the king pulled out little by little only to gently push right in, acquainting your walls with him. On one particular thrust, you jolted as he grazed a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed. You felt a rush of pleasure despite still being in a bit of pain. Steven reveled in your reaction as your winces soon became moans.

His thrusts were gentle although he had begun a steady speed. He groaned into your ear – the sound going straight into your hot core. “You feel so good,” his voice was like a growl.

The sound of skin slapping was faint, muddled by the pleasure-riddled sounds that left yours and Steven’s lips. Sensitive from your previous orgasm, you already felt that familiar coil begin to tighten. You involuntarily clenched around the king’s cock. He groaned at the sensation, burying his head into the crook of your neck. He gently bit at the skin and kissed the bruises that formed.

“Steve – Steven!” You moaned, your back caving as the coil snapped for a second time that night. Your walls were like a vice on the king, milking him and tempting him.

He moaned out your name in kind, slamming his hips into yours which made you gasp. A warm feeling spread throughout your sex. The king stayed inside of you. His head still buried into your neck. Both of you were breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breath.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, kissing the delicate skin of your décolletage. Still breathless, you shook your head. Steven pulled away from your neck and grabbed one of the many pillows behind you. Carefully, he pulled out of you – you winced at the sudden emptiness – and placed the pillow underneath your waist, elevating your pelvis. You thought if this was another Brooken tradition, but then realized it was to keep his seed inside of you.

Steven settled to your side. An arm wrapping around your stomach as he nuzzled into your body. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you turned your head to stare at him.

“I … “you said but stopped yourself. You clenched your jaw, unsure of how to recover. You felt butterflies in your stomach – though, it could’ve just been the king’s seed.

Steven leaned in to kiss you gently. You smiled against his lips. Perhaps, this life could be great after all.

»————-　⚜　————-««

Your parents were quiet on their journey home. It’s been three days since your wedding. Your mother teased your father about your sudden radiance as you walked through the castles. They would miss your coronation, but they did have their own kingdom to handle.

The joys of the wedding were left at Brooken as they embarked on their journey back to York. Your mother’s teasing nature and happy smiles were gone as she stared out the carriage window. Your father had a gloomy expression to match.

“I hope she gets pregnant soon…” Your mother muttered.

“I’d rather not talk about my daughter’s sexual escapades.” Your father half-joked. His mood didn’t brighten.

“We should’ve told her.”

“If we told her, she wouldn’t have gotten married and she would’ve pushed to be brought home.” Your father sighed. He raised a fighter. An arguer. A bright young woman that was now a queen.

“She has a right to know.” Your mother reasoned.

“You were alone with her more than I was. You had the chance to tell her. Why didn’t you?” Your father snapped. His wife stayed silent. The tension in the carriage was so thick that a blade wouldn’t even cut through it.

Queen Virginia sniffled. Your father’s hard expression softened as he wrapped his arm around his queen, pulling her to his side. She curled into his chest as she began to cry.

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I will outlive my own son.” Your mother cried. Her voice cracked as a sob escaped her. The words broke Tony’s heart. “I brought him into this world. He was meant to be a king…”

“No one could’ve foreseen his illness,” your father soothed. He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her arms to comfort her.

“He will leave us in a few months’ time… Will she even have the opportunity to say goodbye?”

“It’s better she doesn’t know. She will leave Steven’s side and he will be crushed when his queen refuses to stay by him.”

“She deserves to say goodbye to her brother, Tony.”

“I agree, my love,” your father sighed. “But when the time comes, when Harvey dies and I, god willing, long after, she will truly unite the north. The North will be one under her rule as the rightful queen of York and Brooken. Long may (Y/N) Rogers reign.”

[rjhamster]

Bethlehem: Church of the Nativity

Bethlehem: Church of the Nativity by Kathie Lee Gifford with Rabbi Jason Sobel Kathie Lee Gifford Lamb Of God But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times. — Micah 5:2 I was deeply disturbed when our tour group visited modern-day Bethlehem. Scripture tells us Bethlehem was the birthplace of Jesus, the Messiah, prophesied in Micah 5:2 sometime between 750 BC and 686 BC (seven hundred years before Jesus’ birth): “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.” Today, the city of Bethlehem is controlled by the Palestinian Authority, and it feels — as my daughter, Cassidy, described it — “darkly oppressive.” There are military checkpoints as you enter and exit. It hardly feels joyful or anything like the way the shepherds would have experienced it two millennia ago, as a place of great rejoicing at the Savior’s birth. Come… to Bethlehem! More from Rabbi Jason The Significance of Bethlehem Shortly after the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem, an angel of the Lord appeared to shepherds guarding their sheep at night and announced to them, Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; He is the Messiah, the Lord. — Luke 2:11 And the sign given to them was that they would find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. — Luke 2:12 Of all the possible signs that could have been given to these shepherds, why did the Lord choose a baby lying in a manger and wrapped in swaddling clothes? Why was this so significant? To answer this question, we need to dig deeper and explore the Jewish context in which the New Testament was written. Good students of the Bible are like detectives who ask lots of questions of the text. The first question we need to ask is: Who are these shepherds? Is there anything unique about them? I believe these were no ordinary shepherds. They were Levitical shepherds, trained and tasked with the responsibility of tending and guarding the flocks used for sacrifices in the temple in Jerusalem. Next, we must ask, What is so significant about the location in which they found Jesus? When it was time for one of their flock to give birth, the shepherds would bring the sheep into one of the caves surrounding Bethlehem that were used for this purpose. These birthing caves were kept in a state of ritual purity since these lambs were destined to be used as sacrifices in the temple. In fact, many of the male lambs born around Bethlehem would be used for the Passover.1 Since there was no room in the local inn, Mary and Joseph used one of these caves around Bethlehem. Messiah was not born in a stable behind some Econo Lodge or Motel Six. He was born in one of the many caves used for birthing these sacrificial lambs, because He Himself would be the ultimate sacrificial Lamb. Not only would the location of Jesus’ birth be significant to these shepherds, but so would the fact that Jesus was swaddled in cloths. These shepherds were responsible for making sure that the newborn lambs did not contract defects, for only animals without spot or blemish could be used as a sacrifice in the temple. Baby lambs are very clumsy when they are born, so many scholars believe that these shepherds would swaddle their newborn lambs in order to prevent these future sacrificial lambs from becoming blemished by injuring themselves on jagged parts of the cave. Another key aspect of swaddling in ancient Israel was “salting” a newborn. After Jesus was born, Joseph would have washed and scrubbed Him with salt water. Practically, the salt killed any bacteria found on an infant’s body. But there is a lot of spiritual symbolism in this act as well. Salt was symbolic of friendship and loyalty in the ancient world; it was a sign of covenant, as in the phrase “a covenant of salt” (2 Chronicles 13:5; Leviticus 2:13; Numbers 18:19). A common expression to denote friendship in Middle Eastern culture is, “there is salt between us.” A salt covenant is used to denote the eternal covenant of friendship and kingship that God made with David and his heirs: “Don’t you know that the Lord, the God of Israel, has given the kingship of Israel to David and his descendants forever by a covenant of salt?” (2 Chronicles 13:5). Jesus was not only born in Bethlehem, which is the city of David, but He was also the promised Son of David, the Messiah and King who came to fulfill the Davidic covenant — God’s promise that one of David’s descendants would live on the throne forever — and to establish the new covenant spoken of in Jeremiah: ‘The days are coming,’ declares the Lord, ‘when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and with the people of Judah’. — Jeremiah 31:31 Salt was also an indispensable part of every sacrifice offered in the temple, as we read in Leviticus: You are to season with salt every sacrifice of your grain offering. You are never to allow the salt of the covenant of your God to be lacking from your grain offering. With all your sacrifices you must offer salt. — Leviticus 2:13 TLV Not only was Messiah born in the same location as the temple offering, but He was also washed in salt as part of the swaddling process, which points to His future sacrifice as the Passover Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world and inaugurate the new covenant (Jeremiah 31:31). Messiah came to make a covenant with us, and He was so committed to us that He chose to die in order establish it, demonstrating how seriously He takes His friendship with us! This is what John 15:13 alludes to: Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. Messiah was the Lamb who was slain from the creation of the world. — Revelation 13:8, So He needed to be salted as our true sacrifice to erase our sin and bring us into a covenant friendship with the Lord. Now, that’s a true friend. Isn’t it amazing? We must make sure we are valuing His friendship and taking full advantage of it. Not only was the process of swaddling significant to the shepherds, but I believe the actual garments in which the baby Jesus was swaddled were meant to be a sign to them as well. Let’s explore their deeper meaning. One of the oldest symbols of the Jewish faith is the menorah, a seven-branched candelabrum used in the temple. The Kohanim, the Levitical priests, lit the menorah in the sanctuary every evening and then cleaned it out every morning, replacing the old wicks with new ones. What were the wicks of the menorah made from? The priests’ tunics. Any priestly garment that became so dirty to the point that its stains could not be washed out was no longer acceptable to be worn during priestly service. These unusable garments were not destroyed; instead, they were cut up, and the fabric was used for another holy purpose. The tunics of the ordinary priests were used to make wicks for the menorah that was to burn continually in the Holy Place in the temple. This is speculation, but I believe Jesus’ swaddling clothes could have been made from the torn priestly garments that would have been used to make the wicks of the menorah. But where would Joseph and Mary have gotten them? My guess is that Mary got these cloths from her cousin Elizabeth, who was married to the priest Zechariah. As soon as Mary entered the home of Elizabeth, who had miraculously conceived in her later years, the unborn baby in her womb leaped, filled with the Holy Spirit. Elizabeth cried out, You are blessed among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. Who am I, that the mother of my Master should come to me? For even when I just heard the sound of your greeting in my ear, the unborn child leaped with joy in my womb. Blessed is she who trusted that there would be a fulfillment of those things spoken to her by Adonai. — Luke 1:42–45 TLV So the shepherd priests, who encountered angels, went to a place where the lambs used for the sacrifices were born and swaddled. There, they saw the baby Jesus swaddled like a sacrificial Passover lamb in priestly garments that were used for the lighting of the menorah in the temple, which symbolized the eternal presence and promise of God! Now it should make more sense as to why a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger would be such a significant sign to these shepherds, for it pointed to Jesus being both the Lamb of God and the Light of the World. Mishnah Shekalim 7:4. Excerpted with permission from The Rock, the Road, and the Rabbi by Kathie Lee Gifford with Rabbi Jason Sobel, copyright Kathie Lee Gifford. * * * Your Turn This chapter of The Rock, the Road, and the Rabbi was filled with facts! Things we never knew and nothing anyone taught us. Which learning was your favorite from this chapter? Come share on our blog!

[yahoo-puck-daddy-blog]

What if … the Bruins never lost Marc Savard? (NHL Alternate History)

(Ed. Note: It’s the NHL Alternate History project! We’ve asked fans and bloggers from 31 teams to pick one turning point in their franchise’s history and ask ‘what if things had gone differently?’ Trades, hirings, firings, wins, losses, injuries … all of it. How would one different outcome change the course of history for an NHL team? Today: Pete Blackburn, writing free agent and podcaster for ListenToBrunch and Section10Pod, on the Boston Bruins. Enjoy!)

By Pete Blackburn

Despite what you may have heard, I am not God.

I don’t have divine powers. As much as I’d like to, I can’t lasso the moon for Jennifer Aniston. Life isn’t fair.

But Greg has given me the power to play God for a day. Not only that, I’m a time-traveling God – one tasked with changing a specific moment in Boston Bruins history to create an alternate timeline for the franchise.

As one of the NHL’s Original Six teams, the Bruins have a long, rich history. But, as a ‘90s womb-evacuator, I’ve got about a decade and a half worth of material I feel comfortable enough to toy with.

The Bruins have certainly had more than a few regrettable moments in that timeframe, so my choice may come as a bit of a surprise, so first let me explain my thinking.

THE OBVIOUS

Give Bruins fan a shot at a do-over and there’s a good chance the majority are going to nullify a trade.

You can take your pick, but I imagine most would revisit the decisions to part ways with Joe Thornton (sent to San Jose in 2005 for Brad Stuart, Marco Sturm and Wayne Primeau) or Tyler Seguin (shipped to Dallas in 2013 for Loui Eriksson, Reilly Smith, Matt Fraser and Joe Morrow).

Waxing either of those deals makes a lot of sense, obviously. Both of those guys were proven offensive stars traded in (or before) their prime. Thornton’s a future Hall of Famer, Seguin’s one of the game’s current elite.

If you look up “bad idea” in the dictionary, one definition is “trading a superstar for two or three good players.” (Find it right next to “pivoting to video.”) Proof of idiocy: Bruins now have exactly zero players in the organization that arrived as a result of those two deals, either directly or indirectly.

I thought about devising an alternate history in which those two trades didn’t happen. Pushing ‘reset’ on Seguin is especially tempting because that wound is fresher and the aftermath is still haunting.

It was the first in a series of moves that caused them to slip from Eastern Conference powerhouse to squatters in league purgatory. After two Cup Final appearances during Seguin’s three seasons in Boston, they have a single playoff series win since.

Yes, Bruins fans might be a happier bunch these days if that trade never happened.

But most Bruins fans have probably already spent way too much time thinking about what life would be like if either No. 19 stuck around in Boston. That fantasyland ticket has been punched over and over and over again.

Instead, I wanted to explore a road less traveled. I thought about other instances – most of them centered around 2013 and everything in its wake — including but not limited to:

What if Jarome Iginla chose Boston instead of Pittsburgh in 2013?

What if Chris Kelly didn’t miss a wide open net and cost the Bruins a big goal in Game 4 of the 2013 SCF?

What if the Blackhawks didn’t score two in 17 seconds?

What if Dennis Seidenberg hadn’t torn his ACL and MCL in ‘13-14?

Toying with any of those outcomes may push the Bruins closer to a second Stanley Cup in three years and lead to a very different series of events in the years following.

But, ultimately, the most thought-provoking reversal I could think of may not result with the Bruins lifting multiple Cups. In fact, it might actually take away the only one they’ve got since the turn of the century.

That brings us to…

WHAT IF MARC SAVARD NEVER GOT HURT?

You likely already know the story, but Bruins center Marc Savard had his playing career cut short thanks to a number of concussions and the scary, lingering effects that terrorized him for years.

Savard’s final concussion came in January of 2011, during a game in Colorado. He was hit clean by Matt Hunwick, his head bounced off the glass, and his career was over at the age of 33.

But, for the purposes of this exercise, that’s not the incident we’ll focus on. Instead, let’s key in on the most notable (and brutal) concussion Savard suffered, the one he says was “the start of some really dark days” — the one handed to him by Matt Cooke 10 months prior.

Though it technically wasn’t a career-ending hit, that incident was the beginning of the end for Savard. He was cleared to play in the second round of the 2010 playoffs (when he famously scored the overtime-winner in his first game back) but he kept battling symptoms of post-concussion syndrome and missed the start of the following season. The follow-up in Colorado sealed the deal.

Here’s how Savard described the aftermath of the Cooke hit in piece he penned for The Players’ Tribune earlier this year:

I had these terrible headaches, and any loud noise or bright light was … I mean, it’s almost indescribable. If you’ve never had a concussion, I don’t know if words can do the feeling justice. Every little noise is like nails on a chalkboard, and you feel this dread so deep down inside your body.

So I pretty much lived a reverse lifestyle. I was in bed all day with the blinds closed, in total darkness, in total silence. Then I would get up at 11 p.m. and watch TV on mute, with the brightness turned way down. If somebody called to check on me, I didn’t want to talk. I can’t really explain it, but everything seemed so….

What’s the word?

I guess the word is daunting. Just the thought of talking to a friend on the phone seemed like a huge mental and almost physical effort. I was so irritable because of my symptoms that it was hard to be around people — even the people I loved. All I wanted to do was rest. And that’s when it becomes a vicious cycle. Because when you can’t get out of bed and do the stuff that makes you happy, you get depressed. And then it’s like you get depressed that you’re depressed. It’s a suffocating feeling.

Savard was never the same player following that incident. With the unfortunate way his career ended, it’s somewhat easy to forget just exactly how great Savard was at his peak, as well as how important he was to the Bruins.

After the Bruins finished last in the Northeast in ’05-’06, Savard came over in free agency (along with Zdeno Chara) and brought promise to a team that hadn’t won a playoff series since 1999.

Savard came to Boston fresh off a career-high 97-point season with Atlanta (RIP) and was regarded as one of the league’s premier playmakers at the time. He didn’t disappoint upon arrival, posting point totals of 96, 78 and 88 in his first three (and only full) seasons with the Bruins. Even with the health issues (he suffered a few lower body injuries in 2009-2010 as well) he finished as a point-per-game player in Boston.

So, what happens if he stays healthy?

Well, consider this: Savard entered 2009-2010 (his age 32 season) with 663 points. That season, he signed a seven-year extension with the Bruins worth $28.05 million (a shade under $4.2 million annually) so let’s assume that contract sticks in the alternate timeline.

In this revised history, Savard doesn’t suffer a concussion in the Pittsburgh game and plays out the remaining 18 games at a point-per-game clip. That puts him at 51 points on the season and 714 for his career.

Savard goes on to play out the remainder of that seven-year contract with the Bruins, retiring after the 2017 season (hey, that’s right now!) at age 39. During that run, he had a couple more 80+ point seasons and All-Star selections and – after being slowed down by a few injuries and good ol’ Father Time – averaged around 60 points per year.

He wraps up his career with 1,124 career points, walking away with a legitimate chance at being inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame. At the very least, he’s considered one of the greatest playmakers in Bruins history and is beloved by the city for his contributions and passion both on and off the ice.

(That last part still rings true in reality. Boston loved Savard during his time here, and he seemed to love the city and organization as well. If you go to his Twitter page today, his avatar and cover photo are from his time with the Bruins, and the Bruins are the only team he claims in his bio.)

Most importantly, though, Savard hangs up his skates and walks away with his health.

But how does this alternate history affect the Bruins as a whole?

Well, keeping Savard on the roster (and his salary against the cap) likely means that Boston doesn’t trade for Tomas Kaberle at the trade deadline in 2011. It also means that they don’t deal Blake Wheeler and Mark Stuart to Atlanta for Rich Peverley (and Boris Valabik…lol) to clear money for Kaberle. It means they may not trade for Chris Kelly, either (though I wouldn’t put it past Peter Chiarelli to go get his mans regardless).

Do the Bruins still win the Cup in ‘11 despite those changes?

That’s the question that tortures me in this alternate reality thought exercise. The Bruins’ top line of Lucic-Krejci-Horton was their most productive that year, so if Savard slots in instead of Krejci, do they find the same success? When Horton goes down in the Cup Final, does a rookie Tyler Seguin slot into that top line and find the same success that Peverley did?

It’s not impossible, especially if Chiarelli still correctly assesses needs at the deadline and Tim Thomas still enters God Mode in the spring. But considering how many close calls the Bruins maneuvered that postseason – and how things seemed to fall perfectly into place — even slightly messing with the composition and chemistry of that team leads way to some doubt.

Still, for the sake of having some fun, let’s say the Bruins trade Wheeler for some defensive help at the deadline, then go into the playoffs with the following top nine forward group:

Lucic-Savard-Horton

Marchand-Bergeron-Recchi

Ryder-Krejci-Seguin

That…that is intriguing.

Okay, I’m going to gather up the chutzpah to say that they still win it all in 2011. Hell, I’ll even say they go on to successfully win another in the next few years.

Not only does Savard get his name on the Cup, he plays a central role in making it happen. He continues to be a clutch postseason performer and is a key offensive contributor on those Cup-winning teams, claiming a piece of hockey immortality in the process.

The guy most affected by Savard’s extended career in this alternate timeline is David Krejci. The Czech center still posts commendable numbers and contributes significantly but he doesn’t play as large of a role in the 2011 postseason. Then, with Savard and Bergeron ahead of him on the depth chart, Krejci grows hungrier for a bigger role and leaves Boston after his contract expires in 2012.

And, as the icing on the cake to Savard finishing out his career happy and healthy, the Bruins don’t have to dump his contract in a Reilly Smith-for-Jimmy Hayes trade conducted to free up money for… Matt Beleskey.

Sigh.

Read more from Peter Blackburn here.

PREVIOUSLY ON NHL ALTERNATE HISTORY

What if … the Islanders never hired Mike Milbury?

What if … Dallas drafted the other Lundqvist brother?

What if … Jonathan Drouin’s Tampa time wasn’t so chaotic? 

What if … Minnesota Wild hired Pierre McGuire as GM? 

What if … Florida had traded Roberto Luongo for Joe Thornton?

What if … the Martin Gelinas goal counted for Calgary?

What if … the Oilers never traded for Chris Pronger?

What if … the Blues had drafted Jonathan Toews instead?

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[milliebobbybrownfan]

New Post has been published on Millie Bobby Brown Fan #MillieBobbyBrown #StrangerThings

New Post has been published on http://millie-bobby-brown.com/824-2/

Press/Photos: Millie for W Magazine

Nearly two years ago, at the British Academy of Film and Television Arts tea in Los Angeles, Millie Bobby Brown, who was then only 12, was the sensation of the party. Stranger Things, a clever, supernatural homage to 1980s pop culture, had just become a hit, and her character, Eleven, an otherworldly, possibly alien, androgynous girl with telekinetic abilities and a diabolical stare, was the breakout star of the show. Unlike the misfit Eleven, Brown, who was born in Marbella, Spain, and grew up in Dorset, ­England, is bubbly, charming, and has a gift for socializing. On the day of the BAFTA event (and at most other ceremonies during the hectic awards season), she was leading her teenage male costars in a kind of nonstop Millie Bobby Brown parade. The four boys, who were dressed in formal clothing that they constantly seemed to be squirming out of, were content to joke among themselves or hover around the buffet, but Brown had other plans. Again and again, suddenly and swiftly, she would round them up and march her posse over to, say, Ryan Gosling, Emma Stone, or Justin ­Timberlake. Cheerfully, forcefully, Brown, who was wearing an age-appropriate party dress and strappy sandals, would extend her hand and say, “Hi! I’m Millie Bobby Brown. So glad to meet you!”

She was on a quest to meet her biggest crush, Leonardo DiCaprio, but he wasn’t there that day. Luckily, nearly every celebrity she did meet was a huge fan of Stranger Things and, especially, Eleven. But even if they had no idea who she was, Brown was unfazed: The future was, simply, hers for the taking.

According to her father, Robert Brown, Millie, who is the second youngest of four children (three girls and one boy), popped out of the womb in a confident state. “She’s always been a personality,” he told me during the shoot for this story. Brown, who is now 14, started auditioning for commercials, movies, and musicals like Matilda and Annie when she was 8. Her first job was a commercial for Publix, the supermarket chain. In the audition, she had to hold up some cupcakes and say, “Mom, can I have these?” Afterward, the casting director remarked to her father, “Your daughter is something quite unique.”

“When I got that first job, I knew right away that I was born to do this,” Brown recalled. She is now taller than when Stranger Things debuted, but she still looks the same: curious, hyper-alert, and appealingly wide-eyed. She was wearing fitted jeans and a pink sweater, but was barefoot. “Where are my sneakers?” she asked no one in particular. The entire Brown family has left England and resettled in Atlanta, where Stranger Things is filmed. Brown had just started shooting the third season, after Netflix signed her to a deal for a reported $3 million.

Like every teenager, Brown is umbilically linked to her phone. She has almost 17 million Instagram followers, who closely monitor her every post. When she met Drake in Australia last November, where both of them were on tour (she was promoting the series; he was performing), the musician draped an arm around her shoulder for a picture that went viral. “He invited me to his concert,” Brown explained matter-of-factly. “And now we talk all the time. I ask his advice.” Perhaps he has advised her to use her celebrity to draw attention to certain issues. When she won favorite TV actress at the Kids’ Choice Awards in March, Brown wore a denim shirt with the names of the victims of the Parkland, Florida, school shooting embroidered on the back. “I take my responsibilities seriously,” Brown told me. “I recognize that I have a voice, and I want to use it wisely.”

In 2015, when she auditioned for Stranger Things, Brown had no idea that it would become her launching pad. “I didn’t know anything about it,” she explained. “Every part of the show was top secret. I Skyped with the directors [brothers Matt and Ross Duffer], and we spoke about ’80s movies—E.T., Stand by Me, and Poltergeist. I flew to L.A. for a screen test, and the next day I got the job! I was 11. We did the show, and I went back home to England. I thought, Okay, it’s a little show. What’s next? And then we came to America for the premiere. Three days later, my whole life changed. People went crazy! My followers went up to 1 million in one day. Magazines wanted me. One of my goals was to be on the cover of W, and you see? Dreams do come true.”

After the first season of Stranger Things, Brown signed a contract with Calvin Klein and was nominated for an Emmy and a SAG award, while the show won a nod for a Golden Globe. (Last week she was nominated for a second Emmy.) Time magazine chose her for its Time 100, making her the youngest recipient to garner that honor. “I don’t think I’ve changed,” she said. “I’m not thinking, Oh, I know everything now. I still get nervous. I still get anxious.” That response surprised me: Brown has always seemed so confident. Was this sudden self-doubt part of becoming a teenager? “Maybe,” she allowed. “But I still love parties! Although, even back then at the BAFTA tea, when I met ­Justin ­Timberlake, I swear I could have fainted.” She smiled. “Ask me some questions,” she said, deftly changing the subject.

Lynn Hirschberg: Who is your girl crush? Millie Bobby Brown: Paris Jackson. She’s got great style. She’s like a sister to me. And she plays the piano!

Hirschberg: What was the first album you bought with your own money? Brown: Amy Winehouse. I was 6. I knew every single word to “Valerie.” My dad wouldn’t let me hear “Rehab”! There were definitely rules. Amy Winehouse was my go-to, but back then I sang “We Found Love,” by Rihanna, in the mornings. It got me going when I had to go to school.

Hirschberg: What’s your favorite Halloween costume? Brown: I’ve never been very good at Halloween. I play characters all the time, so what’s the point of dressing up as another character? The last couple of Halloweens, I saw a lot of people dressed as Eleven. Sometimes it’s comforting. But it’s also very interesting to see a 40-year-old man wearing the look of my 12-year-old character.

Hirschberg: As a child, what was your favorite toy? Brown: A microphone that had High School Musical on it. I could sing with Zac Efron! I watched High School Musical every single day. When I met Zac Efron, I could barely speak.

Hirschberg: What is the first e-mail you remember sending? Brown: I always wanted to be on Ellen, and that was the first e-mail I sent: to Ellen DeGeneres. I explained my life story and how I needed to be on her show. I never got a response. Five years later, I was on Ellen! She found that e-mail and showed it to the audience. Very embarrassing. I had made lots of grammatical mistakes.

Hirschberg: In Godzilla: King of the Monsters, your first film, which will be out next spring, you play a girl named Madison. Was it hard to act opposite a monster that wasn’t there? Brown: Godzilla was a tennis ball! I was always looking up. My neck hurt a lot, and I had to get dry needling. They stuck a really big, but thin, needle in my neck. Your muscle then spasms, and, eventually, you’re fine. After the dry needling, I had a great rapport with the tennis ball.

Hirschberg: Now that you live here, what do you like best about America? Brown: I love red Jolly Rancher candy. Cherry. They’re very sour. I’m not allowed to eat them anymore, because they color my tongue. Eleven is odd enough without having a red tongue.

As she stuck out her tongue to show its clean non-redness, Brown had to stop talking: It was time for hair and makeup. Without knowing her affinity for Amy Winehouse, the stylist decided that Brown’s hair should be teased into a version of the messy, high bouffant that was the singer’s trademark. Brown was thrilled. Her father, who was sitting nearby with her older brother watching Liverpool, their soccer club, defeat Roma, was smiling at his daughter’s reflection in the mirror. “You know,” he said, “Millie is all confidence and swagger in the world, but at night, at home, she can turn into a little, shy girl. It’s a side of her that only her family sees.”

As the makeup artist added a cat-eye tilt to her round eyes, Brown stared at the transformation in the mirror. I asked her if she ever felt like a typical restless teenager—did she ever want to go crazy, be rebellious, run away? “I can be rebellious,” Brown replied, carefully choosing her words. “But not so much. I’ve never been grounded by my parents. I’m a very good girl.” She paused. “But I do believe in making noise, in being loud.”

To play Eleven, Brown had to cut off her long hair and shave her head, which is something that would be traumatic for any 11-year-old. Her baldness instantly set her apart from, well, everybody. “The shaved head was a big deal,” Brown admitted. “On the one hand, it was cool. When you’re bald, rain feels like a head massage. I’d walk in the rain, and people would look at me like I was crazy. I’d be smiling—so, so happy to have the water hit my naked head. But on the other hand, people stared at me, wondering whether I was sick. Some would even laugh at me, without knowing whether I was or wasn’t sick. It was hurtful, but their attitude taught me something about compassion. In the end, being bald was the best thing I ever did—being different changed my life. I wanted to embrace my baldness and, hopefully, inspire people. And, now, that’s become my message to the world.” – Source

2018: W Magazine

[milliebobbybrownfan]

New Post has been published on Millie Bobby Brown Fan #MillieBobbyBrown #StrangerThings

New Post has been published on http://millie-bobby-brown.com/824-2/

Press/Photos: Millie for W Magazine

Nearly two years ago, at the British Academy of Film and Television Arts tea in Los Angeles, Millie Bobby Brown, who was then only 12, was the sensation of the party. Stranger Things, a clever, supernatural homage to 1980s pop culture, had just become a hit, and her character, Eleven, an otherworldly, possibly alien, androgynous girl with telekinetic abilities and a diabolical stare, was the breakout star of the show. Unlike the misfit Eleven, Brown, who was born in Marbella, Spain, and grew up in Dorset, ­England, is bubbly, charming, and has a gift for socializing. On the day of the BAFTA event (and at most other ceremonies during the hectic awards season), she was leading her teenage male costars in a kind of nonstop Millie Bobby Brown parade. The four boys, who were dressed in formal clothing that they constantly seemed to be squirming out of, were content to joke among themselves or hover around the buffet, but Brown had other plans. Again and again, suddenly and swiftly, she would round them up and march her posse over to, say, Ryan Gosling, Emma Stone, or Justin ­Timberlake. Cheerfully, forcefully, Brown, who was wearing an age-appropriate party dress and strappy sandals, would extend her hand and say, “Hi! I’m Millie Bobby Brown. So glad to meet you!”

She was on a quest to meet her biggest crush, Leonardo DiCaprio, but he wasn’t there that day. Luckily, nearly every celebrity she did meet was a huge fan of Stranger Things and, especially, Eleven. But even if they had no idea who she was, Brown was unfazed: The future was, simply, hers for the taking.

According to her father, Robert Brown, Millie, who is the second youngest of four children (three girls and one boy), popped out of the womb in a confident state. “She’s always been a personality,” he told me during the shoot for this story. Brown, who is now 14, started auditioning for commercials, movies, and musicals like Matilda and Annie when she was 8. Her first job was a commercial for Publix, the supermarket chain. In the audition, she had to hold up some cupcakes and say, “Mom, can I have these?” Afterward, the casting director remarked to her father, “Your daughter is something quite unique.”

“When I got that first job, I knew right away that I was born to do this,” Brown recalled. She is now taller than when Stranger Things debuted, but she still looks the same: curious, hyper-alert, and appealingly wide-eyed. She was wearing fitted jeans and a pink sweater, but was barefoot. “Where are my sneakers?” she asked no one in particular. The entire Brown family has left England and resettled in Atlanta, where Stranger Things is filmed. Brown had just started shooting the third season, after Netflix signed her to a deal for a reported $3 million.

Like every teenager, Brown is umbilically linked to her phone. She has almost 17 million Instagram followers, who closely monitor her every post. When she met Drake in Australia last November, where both of them were on tour (she was promoting the series; he was performing), the musician draped an arm around her shoulder for a picture that went viral. “He invited me to his concert,” Brown explained matter-of-factly. “And now we talk all the time. I ask his advice.” Perhaps he has advised her to use her celebrity to draw attention to certain issues. When she won favorite TV actress at the Kids’ Choice Awards in March, Brown wore a denim shirt with the names of the victims of the Parkland, Florida, school shooting embroidered on the back. “I take my responsibilities seriously,” Brown told me. “I recognize that I have a voice, and I want to use it wisely.”

In 2015, when she auditioned for Stranger Things, Brown had no idea that it would become her launching pad. “I didn’t know anything about it,” she explained. “Every part of the show was top secret. I Skyped with the directors [brothers Matt and Ross Duffer], and we spoke about ’80s movies—E.T., Stand by Me, and Poltergeist. I flew to L.A. for a screen test, and the next day I got the job! I was 11. We did the show, and I went back home to England. I thought, Okay, it’s a little show. What’s next? And then we came to America for the premiere. Three days later, my whole life changed. People went crazy! My followers went up to 1 million in one day. Magazines wanted me. One of my goals was to be on the cover of W, and you see? Dreams do come true.”

After the first season of Stranger Things, Brown signed a contract with Calvin Klein and was nominated for an Emmy and a SAG award, while the show won a nod for a Golden Globe. (Last week she was nominated for a second Emmy.) Time magazine chose her for its Time 100, making her the youngest recipient to garner that honor. “I don’t think I’ve changed,” she said. “I’m not thinking, Oh, I know everything now. I still get nervous. I still get anxious.” That response surprised me: Brown has always seemed so confident. Was this sudden self-doubt part of becoming a teenager? “Maybe,” she allowed. “But I still love parties! Although, even back then at the BAFTA tea, when I met ­Justin ­Timberlake, I swear I could have fainted.” She smiled. “Ask me some questions,” she said, deftly changing the subject.

Lynn Hirschberg: Who is your girl crush? Millie Bobby Brown: Paris Jackson. She’s got great style. She’s like a sister to me. And she plays the piano!

Hirschberg: What was the first album you bought with your own money? Brown: Amy Winehouse. I was 6. I knew every single word to “Valerie.” My dad wouldn’t let me hear “Rehab”! There were definitely rules. Amy Winehouse was my go-to, but back then I sang “We Found Love,” by Rihanna, in the mornings. It got me going when I had to go to school.

Hirschberg: What’s your favorite Halloween costume? Brown: I’ve never been very good at Halloween. I play characters all the time, so what’s the point of dressing up as another character? The last couple of Halloweens, I saw a lot of people dressed as Eleven. Sometimes it’s comforting. But it’s also very interesting to see a 40-year-old man wearing the look of my 12-year-old character.

Hirschberg: As a child, what was your favorite toy? Brown: A microphone that had High School Musical on it. I could sing with Zac Efron! I watched High School Musical every single day. When I met Zac Efron, I could barely speak.

Hirschberg: What is the first e-mail you remember sending? Brown: I always wanted to be on Ellen, and that was the first e-mail I sent: to Ellen DeGeneres. I explained my life story and how I needed to be on her show. I never got a response. Five years later, I was on Ellen! She found that e-mail and showed it to the audience. Very embarrassing. I had made lots of grammatical mistakes.

Hirschberg: In Godzilla: King of the Monsters, your first film, which will be out next spring, you play a girl named Madison. Was it hard to act opposite a monster that wasn’t there? Brown: Godzilla was a tennis ball! I was always looking up. My neck hurt a lot, and I had to get dry needling. They stuck a really big, but thin, needle in my neck. Your muscle then spasms, and, eventually, you’re fine. After the dry needling, I had a great rapport with the tennis ball.

Hirschberg: Now that you live here, what do you like best about America? Brown: I love red Jolly Rancher candy. Cherry. They’re very sour. I’m not allowed to eat them anymore, because they color my tongue. Eleven is odd enough without having a red tongue.

As she stuck out her tongue to show its clean non-redness, Brown had to stop talking: It was time for hair and makeup. Without knowing her affinity for Amy Winehouse, the stylist decided that Brown’s hair should be teased into a version of the messy, high bouffant that was the singer’s trademark. Brown was thrilled. Her father, who was sitting nearby with her older brother watching Liverpool, their soccer club, defeat Roma, was smiling at his daughter’s reflection in the mirror. “You know,” he said, “Millie is all confidence and swagger in the world, but at night, at home, she can turn into a little, shy girl. It’s a side of her that only her family sees.”

As the makeup artist added a cat-eye tilt to her round eyes, Brown stared at the transformation in the mirror. I asked her if she ever felt like a typical restless teenager—did she ever want to go crazy, be rebellious, run away? “I can be rebellious,” Brown replied, carefully choosing her words. “But not so much. I’ve never been grounded by my parents. I’m a very good girl.” She paused. “But I do believe in making noise, in being loud.”

To play Eleven, Brown had to cut off her long hair and shave her head, which is something that would be traumatic for any 11-year-old. Her baldness instantly set her apart from, well, everybody. “The shaved head was a big deal,” Brown admitted. “On the one hand, it was cool. When you’re bald, rain feels like a head massage. I’d walk in the rain, and people would look at me like I was crazy. I’d be smiling—so, so happy to have the water hit my naked head. But on the other hand, people stared at me, wondering whether I was sick. Some would even laugh at me, without knowing whether I was or wasn’t sick. It was hurtful, but their attitude taught me something about compassion. In the end, being bald was the best thing I ever did—being different changed my life. I wanted to embrace my baldness and, hopefully, inspire people. And, now, that’s become my message to the world.” – Source

2018: W Magazine