#welsh disney prince

[likesomekindofcheese]

Promised- Finale (Grigor Dymov x fem! Reader, Arranged Marriage AU series)

Series Summary: When Emperor Peter's behavior towards your family threatens the alliance between them and Russia, the only way to solve it from breaking is through an arranged marriage with his friend, the handsome but heartbroken Count Grigor Dymov. A man you barely know.

Previous Chapters: One//Two//Three//Four//Five//Six//Seven//Eight//Nine//Ten//Eleven

Chapter Summary: You and Grigor enjoy a long-denied honeymoon

Content Warnings: Some discussions of sex and cursing and mentions of pregnancy and babies- don't worry, Y/N isn't pregnant. But VERY fluffy!

Word Count: 1584

A/N: Thank you guys so much for supporting this series throughout! Now I thought was the best time to conclude it! When season 3 of The Great comes out and should I get inspired, there might be a season 2 of this fic like what @ladystrallan did with I Really Wish I Hated You (which, btw, highly recommend if you love The Great Fanfics). Who knows?! But I hope all of you loved reading it as much as I loved writing this series!

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Taglist:

General Taglist: @stardust-killer-queen​ @queenlover05​ @seraphicmercury

Promised Taglist: Taglist: @itsametaphorgwil​ @bluesfortheredj​ @grigorlee​ @retropetalss @queenlover05 @joeslee   @grigorlee @itsametaphorgwil @always-a-fairycat @foxinaforestofstars @simonedk @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @queenlover05 @xviiarez @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae @writeroutoftime @staradorned @iwritefanficnotprophecies @panagiasikelia @marshmxllowfluf @jamesbuckybarns​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @rhapsodyrecs​ @ladystrallan​​ ​

You and Grigor were planning on returning to court. You both just wanted something denied to you when you were rushed to be married and when there was a coup- a honeymoon. Three whole months of a honeymoon.

The days were never more lovely- lovemaking at night, awakening when one felt like it, the most sumptuous meals, playing cards by the fireside, reading to each other, and you showing off the various songs you knew how to play. You were starting to teach Grigor chords and his clumsy practicing of scales with mutters of “fuck!” at a mistake could be heard. You still kept shooting practice, but you were relaxed, not caring if you missed the odd target.

It was quite warm for Russia the past two weeks. Flowers were deep in their bloom in the gardens, and it was green everywhere. The vineyards seemed to be a far brighter green than you expected. Perhaps springtime was arriving sooner than you expected or maybe it was a warm spot for a few days. You had to wear your lighter silks as opposed to the warm furs to keep one safe from your new home country’s notorious chill.

As you and your husband toured the grounds together that afternoon, there were fruits of light green and dark purple. You would both look at each other, pluck the small fruits, and try bites of them yourself, feeling the juicy sweetness burst on your tongues, as if only briefly. Grigor would wipe the juice off of his sleeve and give you a kiss and you would taste the grape in his breath as if combined with yours you made your own special wine. Grigor was in his favorite deep green. You had insisted he keep a few buttons down so you could see some of his chest hair. You insisted it was absolutely sexy of him when he wore shirts (especially white ones) with a few buttons undone and he took note. Yes, it was the wrong color today, but you didn’t care. Perhaps that could wait for later tonight when you would hop on him like a rabbit until you screamed each other’s names, not caring about disturbing the servants sleeping below. You were in a bright red dress with golden floral patterns all over it and you perfumed yourself with rose water.

You matched and complimented in your dress as had your souls on the inside- each perfect and making only the other look better when beside it.

You emerged from the kiss and wiped your hand on your skirt.

“Could you hold my hand, my dear?” you asked, presenting your hand out.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh abso-fucking-lutely,” he replied, eagerly taking yours.

It was warm and encompassing, the fingers intertwined within each other to feel the pulse of each other. As you both walked back home, the day was fading. The sky turned into a mix of orange and pink and the crispness of evening etched around you. Once you approached back to the manor, the housekeeper greeted you both and assured you that dinner would be ready in one or two hours. Olga, the little servant girl, handed you back your beloved dog and both of you cooed over her.

“Oh and Madame Dymova! Here! Messenger said it’s from Paris! And it’s for you and the master!” she added on, handing over a letter with a familiar wax seal.

Before you could comment on it, Sonya let out a bright bark for want of attention.

“Here Sonya- found this! Here- Good girl!” Grigor offered.

From his pocket, he pulled out a truffle and fed it to the eager and always hungry pup.

“Would you like some wine? There’s a new one they just made here and it’s fucking astounding,” he offered.

“Oh, yes! And ask the kitchen for a plate of bread and cheese and fruit, perhaps?” you asked.

“I don’t see why not!” he replied, giving you a peck on your forehead before going down to the kitchen.

You made your way to the back porch area outside on your white seats and white chairs. You found it had not grown so chilly that you would require heaps of blankets as you have in the past. Sonya lay happily on your lap panting away. Though grown, she still saw herself as a puppy who had to have every last of her needs attended to, or else her mistress would hear her barking and mischief. But you loved her more for it.

You pulled from your reticule an unopened letter from the dress of your pocket. It couldn’t be your family- you heard just yesterday that you were an aunt to a beautiful little niece. Both you and Grigor were already making plans to travel and visit your family and for you to be introduced and be acquainted with his own. So, who could it be? Was it Catherine about her baby or the new education laws? Orlo recommending a new philosophy book to you? Who? You saw the name on it and gasped.

“It’s George! George wrote to us!” you told Sonya, who only tilted her head.

You then ripped it open and smiled, your heart touched by the contents. From the corner, you saw Grigor come out to approach the table. He smiled, holding two glasses of wine, and giving one to you.

“Why thank you, darling!” you chirruped at him.

“No problem at all,” he answered.

A servant immediately arrived behind and held a platter of cheeses, slices of bread, and apples. His blue eyes went to the letter.

“What is that? Who is it?” he asked.

You smiled, handing him the papers.

“Why, it’s George!? Can’t you believe it? She’s in Paris of all places! Oh, that must be wonderful! And here…she said she met someone who she truly loves and who loves her! Oh, I’m so happy for her! We must write back and ask her more about this!” you squealed.

“Why- how good for her! I’m glad!” Grigor wished genuinely with a shrug and a relaxed smile.

Both of you held up your glasses of wine.

“Should we toast to her?” you asked.

Grigor shook his head.

“I have a better one. To what brought us together in the first place. Here, Y/N-to the alliance!”

“To the alliance!” you agreed, daintily clinking your glasses.

Both of you took a first sip.

“It won’t be too long before we return- so much will be different…” Grigor began.

“I’m just glad Marial is in prison…I’ve slept better at night since then…” you sighed.

He did frown briefly. He took a deep drink and set down his glass.

“Well…part of me is eager. Been worried sick over Peter.”

“But you always are, you silly shit!” you teased, setting your own glass down.

He smiled at the words. You thought there was never a more beautiful smile than that of Grigor Dymov when he was well and truly happy. Your heart would always burst with love for him at the sight.

His letters seem fine and happy though…he’s thrilled about the baby. Got a name picked out and everything!”

“What if we have a baby- will we be even ready for that?” you suggested.

So far, your courses were like clockwork and Grigor would spoil you with bedrest and vodka and embraces when the cramps tormented you. But that doesn’t mean the time would never come. In fact, with all the fucking you had been doing it was a pure miracle it hadn’t happened yet!

“I don’t know if we’ll ever be, Y/N…but what about life after the coup? Things will be so…so different. Peter’s not in charge as much. There’s a royal baby on the way. George is in France. Catherine’s changing all the laws to what she wants. Everything is upside down…” he muttered.

“But we can take it…” you assured him.

He clutched his hand onto yours in response and you used your other hand to rest it on his cheek. He relaxed into it, using a hand to touch yours.

“We can take anything as long as we’re together, darling,” he replied.

“Of course, we can, my dear husband…” you cooed.

"Oh, say that again!” he insisted.

You crawled on his lap, kissing his face- his freckles, his forehead, his cheekbones, his chin.

“Dear husband, dear husband, my Grigor, my darling…” you mumbled between the kisses.

“Fuck, you make me hard. Keep it up and I might have to have you on this table before dinner!” he confessed.

“Wait until after dinner!” you insisted with a joking slap on his arm.

“If Countess Dymova requests it, who am I to deny her that!” he gave in.

You giggled and paused. Both of you breathe deeply the warmth of each other and the closeness.

He kissed you with soft lips again, but there was a chasteness- a tenderness to how he cupped your cheek when it happened. You cuddled into his chest as the sun set and he placed an arm around you to draw circles on your back as the dog lay contentedly smiling on the floor with her pink tongue out.

You were happy. After such chaos you had been through- you were completely happy. Dinner was about to be served. You had a home in court and out. You had a precious pup. You had friends. And most of all, you had found a happy, faithful marriage. And a husband who you loved and who loved you.

And this time the wine did in fact not taste like shit.

[likesomekindofcheese]

OHHHHHHH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH I

*keyboard smash*

Gwilym holding out the wedding to not make Y/N comfortable??? Defending her and calling her “my wife”!?!?!? Saying she looked beautiful!?!?!? The KISS!?!?!! (Personally, I probably would have 😏👉🤌🏻🚂🍆🌮🌚🌝 him there, but I get it😂) and the confession was so sweet!!! He loved her this whole time??!??? I can’t!!!!! I love it!!!!!

would that i

pairing: prince!gwilym lee x reader

in which an arranged marriage is the worst possible fate and you refuse to accept it. gwilym makes it difficult to reject him.

title inspo: would that i // hozier

a/n: modern royalty! getting excited abt an au and doing minimal research! unregulated speculation! my favorite hobbies

How archaic. All of it.

You’ve cried all your tears, tried to fight your father until you were hoarse. It seems everyone in the palace has grown impassive to your crying. And everything is unchanged. You are to be married to a man you barely know, a man you do not love, and it seems no one cares. No one that can change anything, anyway.

Your chambermaid is sympathetic, certainly, but she’s so blind to what your life actually entails that she just doesn’t understand. An arranged marriage to the first in line to the throne seems so glamorous to her. She would trade anything to be in your position. Part of you wishes that she would.

All your control has been stolen from you, stripped away. It’s a feeling you’ve always pushed down and hidden away from your brother, your parents, and your staff. And by choosing your husband, the one person you are supposed to be able to turn to and trust and love and protect—the single most intimate person in your life—you feel as though your life has been stolen from you. It is no longer your own.

As of this morning, you are no longer just Y/N. You are Y/N, Princess of Wales. You are Gwilym’s wife.

A man you have resisted closeness with. A man you have detested since your countries agreed to your betrothal many years ago. It was your only way of retaliating, of fighting against the marriage you so fiercely resented. It did not seem to matter to either of your fathers how vehemently you detested Gwilym. It only mattered what good this marriage would do for your respective homelands. You resent your husband as much as you resent your father, a man who listened to neither your pleas nor your mother’s, a man who only seemed to care about preparing his son to take the throne after him, and paid no mind to his daughter unless it meant getting her off his back.

It was only when Henry, your only sibling and the very light of your father’s life, objected to the proposal that your father took any pause. At fifteen years old, Henry was already being prepared to take over whenever your father was gone, which meant he was sitting in on most diplomatic meetings, your father’s silent shadow. Usually. The fact that he even thought to stand up to the idea meant something to you. The courage that was needed was not something you understood when you were so young, but you understood when Henry said he tried to save you. You loved him more for it.

It’s another sickening blow in the deal. You lose your home, your freedom, your original title, and you lose your best friend, too. You and Henry are being permanently separated for the first time in your life. It’s the final nail in your terrible attitude.

It almost fills you with glee—the only thing that does—the way Gwilym doesn’t seem to know how to interact with you. The wedding itself is an overstated affair, one where the two of you must hang off one another for the entire world to see and gawk over for the next week or so until there’s some Hollywood scandal that captures everyone’s attention and you can go back to your life of relative peace. Considering you can’t stand him, it’s almost impossible to act enamored with him, especially since the day is packed full of festivities. You hardly have a moment to think, let alone sulk, and you’re trying desperately to soak in whatever time you have left with your mother and brother. You’ll see them again, of course, but it will never be the same. Your phone calls could not possibly replace irritating Henry in the middle of the night before an important event.

You and Gwilym can’t share more than five words all day, aside from your highly publicized vows. Everyone coos at you both, perfectly deceived to believe that you are, in fact, head over heels. They are unaware of the massive benefit both your countries will see from this arrangement, that it’s some sick sort of treaty, upon which everything you know about your life depends.

Your husband isn’t bogged down in the slightest at how this might affect his life. He’s full of charming, if not smarmy, smiles at your guests, diplomats and ambassadors, and generally powerful people, the same kind that made your skin crawl. Gwilym fits in perfectly with them. Not because he makes you nervous, as many of these people do, but because he knows exactly what to say to disarm them. They don’t tend to like you. You aren’t one to laugh along with them. You refuse to appease them.

Gwilym, though, is keen to rub elbows with them. And he’s good at it. He will be king one day, after all, and diplomacy is very important to his cause. It’s a skill your brother needs to work on.

It’s a terribly long day full of many people you don’t particularly care for. By the time you and Gwilym retire to your private apartment, in an opposite wing from the Queen, you don’t exactly have the energy to have a real conversation with him.

Evidently, he doesn’t feel the same. Your new handmaiden, Maeve, helps you undress efficiently, gracious with your lack of interaction, while Gwilym buzzes around the room, raving about the day as though you hadn’t been there, too, grinning and preserving your modesty by keeping his back to you, mostly.

“It truly was a wonderful day, don’t you think, Maeve?”

You catch the tiniest quirk of her brow, an almost-suppressed look of snark, and you snicker too quietly for Gwilym to hear.

“Yes, Your Highness. It was a beautiful day,” she pleases him.

You step out of your dress, much too dramatic, and you regret rejecting the additional help with the task, enough to smile softly at Maeve, who seems concerned with how she’ll get the oversized pile of white tulle and silk properly put away. “Let’s leave this for tomorrow, yeah?” You suggest softly. She looks at you with thinly-veiled panic, and you jump to reassure her. “It’s been a long day, for both of us. I’m sure we’re both ready for some rest. We’ll have help in the morning.”

She breathes out quietly. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Goodnight, Maeve. Thank you for your help,” you say, unable to properly put on a front. You give her an undone smile, one she matches, and she and Gwilym share similar partings before she slips from the room, leaving little trace she was ever here.

He wants to talk. You can tell he does because even when you come back from changing into your pajamas and washing your face, he’s still rolling on the balls of his feet, lips upturned in a bright expression. “Did you have a good day, Y/N?” He asks, noticeably less excited than before. He seems disappointed, and you’re unsure why, exactly. Perhaps he’s as displeased with this marriage as you are. It’s a comforting thought, that you aren’t completely alone.

“It was long,” you say simply, blinking slowly.

“But it was beautiful, don’t you think?” He pushes, and you stare at him blankly, giving a short nod.

“I’d really like to go to sleep now,” you murmur, too exhausted to even pretend to be interested in whatever conversation he’s trying to drag you into.

“Of course,” Gwilym agrees. “It was a busy day. You must be overwhelmed.” You nod again, rubbing your eye with the heel of your hand.

How to say goodnight to your husband? The two of you stand across the room from one another, silent and awkward. Gwilym sticks his hands in the pockets of his pajamas and you entwine your fingers, pursing your lips. “Well,” you clear your throat. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You turn toward your bedroom and, without another look back, you close the door behind you. Tomorrow, you would wake early for your honeymoon, and you can feel how heavy your eyelids have gotten. You weren’t lying to get out of a conversation with Gwilym. You have just endured the longest day of your life and all you want is a moment alone. You collapse on the bed with little grace, crawling under the heavy down cover and burrowing your head into the pillow.

Even as you try to fall asleep, your mind rolls over your day, the people, the cameras. Gwilym. He’s so...formal, even when he’s eager. Always a close distance away from you while he charms everyone else. But something about him compels you. Makes you wonder. The way he always addresses you by your name, always looking so deeply into your eyes that you feel chilled. He’s odd, certainly, but not entirely off-putting. As irritated as you may be, perhaps there are worse people to be stuck with.

You think this is a life you could get used to.

You’re used to a certain kind of power. You had been born with a silver spoon and had been waited on since the second you were born. But this is unlike anything you have ever experienced.

Maybe it’s because it’s your honeymoon, but the way Gwilym reacts to the treatment makes you think that this is perfectly normal for him. Was this your new life? Being waited on hand and foot?

It’s a luxurious trip, one that you and Gwilym spend apart, for the most part. There are worse ways to live. You’ve always enjoyed alone time, and if you and Gwilym keep on like this, you’ll have a wealth of alone time for the rest of your life. The two of you leave one another alone for the entire three weeks, save for a few dinner trips in the case of photographers, exploring the island and basking in the sun and soaking in the water. Most nights, you don’t even hear him come back to the room. For all you know—for all you care—he isn’t even coming back, and yes, he’s your husband, but it doesn’t seem like your business.

It’s a fairly desolate island, so the dinners you share, on the off chance someone is watching, feel pointless and awkward.

Smarmy, stupid Gwilym. He becomes more impossible to stand with every moment you spend together. You grew up privileged, allowed to obtain your heart’s every desire if it meant that you would leave your father alone, but Gwilym has seen that privilege a hundred times over. He isn’t entirely unaware of the state of the world, as evidenced by his many sympathetic tweets for countries in need. The performance of it all is off-putting, to say the least. The fact that he seems unphased by the special treatment he receives from everyone, impervious to the ogling from those who were able to get within a fifteen-foot radius. It doesn’t register to him at all. Or maybe it does and he just doesn’t care.

You’re not sure which seems worse.

After your honeymoon, the two of you settle into a routine with alarming swiftness. Your home, only a block from the palace, is finished when you arrive home. Gwilym attends to his duties as prince and you attend to the throwaway duties they assign to you as his princess. You see one another when those duties overlap, but other than that, you live entirely separate lives. It works.

The meetings are your least favorite of all the responsibilities you’ve inherited. The entire reason you’re there is to sit at Gwilym’s side; you’re decorative at best, a complete oversight at worst. You don’t speak, you rarely make eye contact with any of the guests, and, perhaps worst of all, you’re forced to endure the meetings, sometimes hours long, listening to your husband do what he does best: kiss the asses of people you cannot stand.

They rarely even look in your direction. If you were to draw any sort of attention to yourself, you imagine they would be shocked to notice you’re even there.

On one such morning, after a late-night of conversation with Maeve followed by a phone call to your brother, you’re exhausted. You consider begging Gwilym to let you skip the meeting—especially since your presence serves no purpose but to make you look every bit the attached and doting wife both you and Gwilym know you are not—but you know he would never allow it. His mother insists that your attendance is pertinent, and part of you thinks that Gwilym revels in your boredom, knowing that forcing you to feign interest in many of the matters discussed is worse than any kind of punishment he could ever dole out himself. You sit in silence while your husband acts important in his chair; he asks you what you think, but all you can ever force is a tight smile. The performance exhausts you.

Guests are often—even when they don’t acknowledge you—more than cordial with your husband, sucking up to him just as much as he does them, but on the morning of your terrible mood and uncontrollable yawning, you notice a definitive difference in your guest before the meeting has even officially begun.

Gwilym’s warm greeting is met only with a harrumph, his handshake reciprocated most reluctantly, and part of you enjoys the shell-shocked look on your husband’s face, unused to being written off. Now he knows how you feel.

It’s near impossible to keep your pleased little smirk off your face, so you look down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers and pursing your lips. You have your legs crossed, fingers entwined, attention entirely focused on the clock, and counting the minutes until you have some free time to take a nap. Maybe a few fantasies where you spoke to your husband in the same way this unhappy stranger spoke to him.

You’re lost in your own little world, too buried in your daydreams that you don’t take note of the escalating tension; you have never known your husband to lose his patience—he’s had an abundance of it with you and it never seems to run out—but when you finally look up from your hands and tune back into the conversation, you’re taken aback by the clipped voice he uses, clearly unimpressed with the antagonistic man sitting across the table from the two of you.

“You aren’t listening to what I’m saying,” Gwilym huffs, and curiously, you can’t help but watch him. You have spent the last ten years detesting Gwilym and the last five actively trying to irritate him, but you’ve never seen him like this. He’s more than patient with you, but it seems that not everyone has that luxury.

“I’m certainly listening, Your Highness,” he sneers the title and Gwilym’s eyes harden perceptibly. “And what I’m hearing is that your useless country won’t use your endless funds on something that could benefit everyone. Instead, you’re keen to sit pretty in your palace and get no real work done.” You can’t help it. Your brows raise, shoulders squaring, physically taken aback by his words, and he finally seems to notice you. “And you, you’re so brainless that they only keep you around for something to look at, whether it’s sufficient or not, and—” Gwilym stands with a start.

“That is enough.” You jump at the boom in his voice, loud and unwilling to be fought against. “That is my wife. You can disrespect me and you can disrespect my country, but I will not sit here and allow you to be thoughtless and cruel to her.”

At first, you think this is just another of his performances, ones you have both gotten good at, pretending to be in love with each other. But after another examination, you can practically see the blood boiling under his skin, along with the bulging of his neck at the collar of his shirt. He’s genuinely angry and for some reason, the idea shocks you.

The man across from the desk looks surprised to be pushed against; perhaps he was familiar with the prince’s usual agreeable demeanor, but he is unshaken nonetheless. Gwilym stands from the desk and smooths his button-down. “I believe our meeting is over. Oscar is outside the door, he’ll show you the way out.”

Gwilym doesn’t check over his shoulder to ensure that the man follows him. Instead, he opens the door and beckons Oscar, dismissing the guest without another look as he is led from the room.

You stare at him, dumbfounded at both the unexpected trajectory of the meeting and his reaction, standing to calm him as he begins to pace.

“That is unbelievable. Absolutely unacceptable. I’m going to email his superior later today. You had better believe he’ll never set foot on these grounds again. Appalling.”

He’s more furious than you’ve ever seen him and it feels like your job to calm him down, so you approach him carefully. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s fine. I’m sure Oscar is berating him as we speak,” you try to joke, but he looks at you with burning eyes before he grabs your biceps, staring at you with such intensity that every word you want to say to him is knocked directly out of your mind.

“Are you alright?”

You blink. “Me?” You ask dumbly, unable to consider that he’s worked up over anything other than the disrespect that he faced today. “Yes, I’m alright. Are you alright?”

“You shouldn’t be spoken to that way,” he says fiercely, ignoring your question. “I won’t stand for it.”

“Gwilym, it’s really okay.”

He lets out a heavy breath. “No, sweetheart, it isn’t. It’s not okay at all.”

And for the first time since you’ve been married, Gwilym is looking a little bit like a human that you might be able to stand.

It’s late. Not even the plush mattress and the soft rush of wind outside your window can lull you to sleep. Toss and turn as you might, the events of the morning cannot be knocked loose from their place in your mind. Gwilym and his cheeks flushed with fury, jaw clenched and staring into your eyes so intensely that it almost makes you dizzy to think about even now.

He had been angry for you. Not at you, not about you, but on your behalf. He had defended you. He had cut short an important meeting and you had both endured a stern conversation from the publicist, but Gwilym had stood his ground with her. “You shouldn’t be spoken to that way. I won’t stand for it.”

The words were engraved in your brain.

For the first time, you felt like something other than property. You didn’t feel like the aftermath of a transactional marriage. You were a wife, and your husband, the one you had fought so fiercely against, had been the one to stand up for you.

It had been six months of silently skirting around one another. Six months of trying to pretend that he does not exist. He had tried in the beginning, of course. Tried to converse with you, to be friends, at the very least. You hadn’t let him.

And now you were kind of wishing you had.

The floors freeze your feet as you pad across them, tossing a robe over your shoulders to preserve some dignity. Gwilym is only next door, but the walk feels so long because you’re second-guessing yourself every single step of the way. He’s your husband, for god’s sake. Should it be so hard to talk to him?

You knock on the door, listening to his quiet sighs and the padding of his feet as he crosses to open the door, and your stomach turns in anticipation. When he swings the door open, his brows raise in surprise. “Y/N.”

It’s quiet for a long moment. Clearly, you’ve come to say something, and he wants you to say it. The problem is you and the fact that you aren’t sure what to say to him. Or rather, you know what to say, you just aren’t sure how to say it. “I wanted…After the meeting, I wanted to thank you. For standing up for me.”

Gwilym looks at you, stuck halfway between shocked and confused. “Y/N, you don’t have to thank me for that. It’s my duty to ensure that you are being treated with respect.”

Duty. Of course. You’re his duty. An obligation. Gwilym protected you because he felt he must. And no, that certainly didn’t explain his anger, but it makes sense. It also makes your lips pucker and your stomach twist.

“Right…Thank you anyway,” You respond curtly. Your husband tilts his head amiably.

“Of course. Always.”

You don’t stick around to make more conversation. Instead, you shamefully slip back into your bedroom and slide between your sheets. You go to bed more confused than ever about where you stand with Gwilym, and a little frustrated that this feeling is becoming more common.

You can barely breathe. Your dress is too tight and the room is too full and you feel like you’re suffocating. Gwilym had come earlier than you did, and now you’re cursing yourself for your own pride. It had been pride that kept you from arriving at the gala together (your publicist had nearly had a stroke, but she had finally met someone as stubborn as she was). But now you’re alone in a room full of people you barely know, and you need something familiar. You need the comfortable weight of Gwilym’s hand on your waist and the warm embrace of his cologne.

Your husband has been looking for you all night. He hasn’t seen you since before he left and Gwilym starts to feel worry nagging in the pit of his stomach. You’ve gained a great skill in the odd kind of way you must interact with these people. Relationships between people in power work so much differently now, not just because Gwilym’s country runs differently, but also because of your elevated status. You rarely need to rely on him, but there’s been a change in you in the last few weeks. For the first time in your marriage—larger, the first time since you two had met—you seem not to be disgusted by Gwilym and his presence, even in private, and he’s started to crave you. He’s always adored you, ever since the first moment he saw you. Understandably, you have wanted nothing to do with him. You were so young when your match was made. He would be more surprised if you didn’t resent him at all.

Finally, after feeling his heart in his throat all night at your absence, he catches sight of you. It’s a wonder he hadn’t seen you before because you’re a light. Now that he sees you, he won’t be able to take his eyes off of you all night. You’re hugging the edge of the crowd, a glass of champagne in hand as your eyes glaze over all your peers.

And then you see him, too. He watches your shoulders slump in relief and the two of you cut through the crowd right to each other. “Where have you been hiding?” He asks, but it’s half-hearted. Gwilym still feels like he’s been punched in the chest and with you even closer, he’s able to see the details. Your makeup is done just so and your neckline perfectly reveals the gentle curve from your neck to your shoulder. If he focuses on it for too long, he’ll begin to feel dizzy, so he looks away.

You huff. “Hard not to hide in a crowd like this.”

“You look perfect,” he compliments thoughtlessly, voice tinged with awe.

Ears burning, you look at your shoes for a moment to compose yourself. “Thank you. So do you.”

A complement returned is a victory of the highest caliber, so Gwilym beams at you. It’s always difficult in public; he doesn’t want you to think all of his affection is for show, and he certainly doesn’t want you to think that he’s taking advantage of the crowd to attend to you. It isn’t for the cameras, not at all, but he can’t help himself. His hand falls to your waist and you lean into him. Side by side, you two are the picture of a perfect couple. You’re entirely content in each other’s presence. There’s no need to dance and no need to drink. Rather, you watch, and every once in a while, Gwilym tightens his hold on your waist just to remind you that he’s there.

It’s unbearably crowded and you’re beginning to suffocate. You lean in closer to Gwilym. “Do you want to get some air?”

Eagerly, Gwilym nods. He’s perfectly content to stay inside, but he’ll take any excuse to let everyone get a look at you on his arm. He’s happy to guide you through the crowd, catching every eye you can; further, there’s little he wouldn’t do for a moment of alone time with you. Gwilym guides you out of the ballroom, greeting staff as he sneaks you through the back hallways. It’s reminiscent of sneaking boys through your own hallways as a teenager, and it makes your stomach leap. You’re nervous and you don’t know why. You’ve known Gwilym for years, been married to him for just over half a year; you know Gwilym, but you still feel the gentle, fluttering anxiety that comes with a new crush. It’s a feeling that you’ve suppressed for the last few weeks. You don’t want to suppress it tonight.

He guides you out to the lower courtyard. You’re unsure if you’re comfortable enough with Gwilym to giggle and tell jokes like you’re used to, but the silence is comforting, too. Muffled string music and the din of conversation flow through open doors and cracked windows, fighting against the peaceful quiet of the warm night.

There’s pressure, a little bit of tension, and you can feel his eyes on you even with your back turned. The closer you and your husband become, the more you have to fight his influence on you. It shouldn’t be scary. In the public eye, he’s already yours. He has you and you have him. Even so, you know that you two have never had a normal relationship. This fear, the excitement, and confusion, are, perhaps, the most natural part of your relationship. This is familiar. They are the safe feelings you associate with the crushes of your teenagehood.

You lean into your husband, a shiver rolling down your back at the warmth of his body. At this moment, you adore him more than you ever have; outside an important charity gala, holding you tight even in private. He came with you not because he needed the air, but because you did. From the corner of your eye, you can see him already looking at you, and your heart begins to pound. Slowly, so slowly that he feels his breathing stutter, you turn to look at him.

Gwilym is overwhelmed; you’re here, leaning closer to him, if there is such a thing, looking so beautiful and relaxed and comfortable in his presence. There isn’t a second thought when he leans into you, taking only a second to breathe you in and listen for rejection before he presses his lips to yours.

Large hands slide from your hips up to your shoulder blades, pulling you in close. Your hands grip his shoulders for only a moment before one slides up to his hair, the other on his neck, trying to keep both him and your sanity close. All night, the two of you have been made up perfectly, but you undo one another in a matter of minutes. His hair is mussed in seconds and your lipstick, subtle as it is, will undoubtedly be smeared across both of your faces by the time you’re done with one another.

Gwilym devours you and you arch into him, prepared to offer him anything he takes. He pours every bit of himself into the kiss; weeks, months, years of longing and aching force their way out of him in a rush of victory. He pulls you so close that you lose your breath, your chests pressed together so tightly that you fear he can feel the uncontrollable thrumming of your heart. The heat of the night is stifling combined with the heat building between you and Gwilym but you can’t pull away from him; he encompasses you.

The closeness and the taste of you and the satisfaction of it all crashes over Gwilym. A heady moan vibrates against your mouth—something deep and warm that only incites the fire razing through you—his fingertips pressing so tightly into your back that you can feel the pinpricks of bruises already. Your head falls back not from lack of want but desperation for air. Gwilym is unphased. His nose traces down your cheek to your neck, breathing you in until he’s dizzy, spiraling under your influence. Everything burns, everything aches. Every cell in your body yearns for him even with him pressed against you. Sloppy kisses fall across your collarbones as Gwilym works love bites into your skin. All he wants is more. He’s waited years for you and now he’s getting his fill.

Panting, you pull on his hair and force out a whisper of his name. Part of you wonders if anyone can see you from the windows, if any staff who have snuck out for a smoke break are watching you from the doors, but a larger part of you hardly cares. There isn’t a part of you that wants to focus on anything other than the way Gwilym’s teeth scrape your skin carnally.

Desperately, you guide his lips back to yours, wanton for another taste of him. He would have overpowered you if he wasn’t just as controlled by you. Anything you want, anything you can think to ask for, he decides, is yours, as long as you kiss him like this. This kiss is worth the wait in every conceivable way. One of his large hands grabs the back of your neck, exerting his power in a way that has your knees buckling, your body relying on Gwilym’s to keep you from entirely collapsing. Against your mouth, your husband grins, thrilled to have the same effect on you as you do on him.

And god, you want him. You’re desperate to live in this moment for the rest of your life, but the music filters into your senses again. You remember where you are—who you’re with, and pulling away from him is agonizing. Both of you are dazed, Gwilym more than you. When you force out a harsh breath, his eyes finally open, the blue of them dark and blown out. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are swollen and he looks like he’s floating. You can’t even handle the sight of him, sure that you’re doomed to fall back into his circulation with no way to get out.

“Y/N,” he breathes, and the rasp of his voice almost makes you moan.

You take a step back, pressing a hand to your chest to try to hold yourself together. This wasn’t part of the plan. Nothing about this had changed; you were still just the wife. Gwilym’s duty.

“I have to go,” you force.

His entire face crumples, but you’ve already turned around. More alert at your sudden rejection, he startles as you begin to rush through the courtyard. “Y/N,” he repeats, stronger this time. All you need is a moment alone, a few minutes to think about where you go next; you ignore his calls, focused exclusively on getting out.

Gwilym stares after you, running a hand through his mussed hair. As distant as you’ve kept him, he knows you. You need time. You slip back inside and Gwilym anticipates that you’ll get a car back home. Emotions run high within; he’s elated and confused and all he wants is more of you, but he doesn’t want to crowd you. With a humorless laugh, he ponders you, and your marriage, and he considers whether you two would work if your titles were removed as he begins his journey home.

Several hours later, both of you are silent in your home. You’ve been locked in your bedroom since you got home, your dress unceremoniously thrown over the foot bench. Gwilym has fought with himself all night about whether or not he should try to speak to you.

When you hear the gentle rapping at your door, you pretend you don’t hear it, and Gwilym doesn’t knock again.

The next morning, you force on a brave face and leave your bedroom. Things have changed with your husband, that much was impossible to deny, but neither of you had changed. This was still that man who used you as an accessory. You want to want Gwilym. How much easier could your life be if you and your husband didn’t have to fake it? Moreover, you had grown to adore Gwilym. Something about him works as a siren song to you. After so long of keeping your husband locked out of your life, you’re prepared to give him an opening.

He waits for you in the kitchen, the softest smile on his lips. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says. There’s no anger in his voice. No resentment. He doesn’t seem upset that you left him behind at a charity gala. There’s just adoration; the sweetest smile and understanding eyes. It only makes you feel worse. It only makes you more confused.

“Hi,” you respond quietly, sitting at the island.

“Are you hungry? We can order in breakfast.”

You hate that this feels like an act, like he’s afraid to mention what you both stayed up thinking about. More than that, you hate that he’s doing this because he thinks it’s what you want. With a careful smile, one a little more vulnerable than he’s used to seeing on you, you shake your head. “I think we should talk.”

Gwilym exhales sharply, relieved that not only are you willing to talk, but you’re the one bringing it up. For all he knew, the two of you were going to skirt around this kiss for the rest of your lives. If you wanted to forget it, he would have given it to you. He didn’t want to forget it, but more than that, he wanted you to be happy. He would give you everything you asked for, and anything you didn’t, he would do what he could to guess. Letting go of this, admittedly, would have been a harder task than any others.

For a long few seconds, neither of you says anything. Gwilym wants to let you work through your thoughts without his interference, but you want to know how he feels. Was he caught in the moment? Did he regret it? He can’t stand the silence and he can’t handle the uncertainty, so he finally says, “It was a hell of a kiss.”

Relieved, you allow a soft laugh. “Can’t deny that.”

He looks at you from under his lashes, mouth upturned. “If it made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry,” he begins, “but I don’t regret it. If I had the chance, I would do it again.”

Your heart soars, a tiny smile finding its way on your lips against your better judgment. “Me neither,” you admit.

The way he looks at you, like a nervous teenager whose crush is finally reciprocated, makes you fall even harder for him. You wouldn’t take it back, not even if all of this imploded. You would hold that memory right in your heart, tucked into the safest corner of your mind to pull out on a rainy day.

“But I need to get some things off of my chest,” you whisper. With a nod, Gwilym sits across from you, prepared to listen. Anxiety seizes you because all you want is for this to work. All you want is for this conversation to comfort you instead of disturbing you. With a deep breath, you put your chin in your hands. “I want to apologize for being so cold with you all these years. I always felt…that my free will had been stolen from me when they decided on our marriage, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair—not when you had just as little choice as I did.”

“Y/N, please don’t apologize for that,” he murmurs, reaching across the counter to grab your hand. “No one, least of all me, is going to blame you for being frustrated about that.”

You smile gently at him, stroking your thumb over his knuckle. He’s so sweet. All you can do is pray that his answers put you at ease as this response has. “It’s just…since we’ve been married, some things just feel…wrong. I’ve had a difficult time accepting certain aspects of our relationship.” Still, his clear blue eyes implore you to continue. He’s trying to listen, entirely open to what you want to say. You adore him. You could cry for him. It seems impossible that he was the one you pushed away for so long. “Gwilym, I’m not your wife. I’m an accessory. It feels like—like I only exist to make you look better.”

He frowns, squeezing your hand. “Sweetheart,” he whispers. “What have I done to make you feel like that?

With the softest smile and tiny little snort, you shake your head. “Those stupid meetings.”

Gwilym stares at you with nothing but confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“I sit in those meetings for hours at a time just to look like a wife who needs to be with her husband. I hate it. I have always hated it. They make me feel…ornamental.”

With astonishment painting his pretty blue eyes, he blinks at you. “Darling, those are your meetings too.” You scoff, but he shakes his head. “I would never ask you to sit in a meeting in which you had no business. Y/N, I ask your opinion in every single one of those meetings. I always wanted your opinion. That’s why you’re there.”

You stare at him. And you’ve never felt dumber. He had always asked your opinion, but you had written it off as performance. You had never thought, not once, that you were in those meetings for any reason other than to make Gwilym look good. And Gwilym, sweet Gwilym, pulls your hands to his lips and kisses your knuckles. He holds your hands to his cheek and watches you carefully, waiting for a reaction.

“I’m such an idiot,” you finally whisper.

He breathes a quiet laugh. “No, you aren’t. I should have made that clear to you.”

“Gwil, I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he insists. You groan. “And for your peace of mind, I did push the wedding back as far as possible. I held off as long as I could.’

“You’re killing me,” you whine. With a laugh, he stands and walks around to your side of the island.

You lift your head to watch him lean against the counter, eagerly allowing him to pull you against him. The warmth of his body against yours is a comfort after over twelve agonizing hours without him. It seemed impossible that the two of you had gone so long without one another. In less than a day, you’ve become dependent on his touch. You crave him like you never have.

“And just so you know,” he whispers against your hairline, stroking your back. “I’ve been in love with you since the moment we met.” It if were at all possible, you would have melted into him. You could cry and you could sing. Performance is no longer a concern. It had never been a performance for him. All the unabashed, eager conversation was genuine. The sidelong looks, the lingering hands. He had meant it all. You had ignored his meanings. “It kills me to think that I made you feel invisible. I’ll do everything in my power to fix this.”

You look at him, unable to hide the tumultuous adoration on your face. You stare at him, star-eyed, and Gwilym feels his heart stop. How long he had waited to see that look.

“I can’t believe you were the one in front of me all this time,” you say quietly, awed. “You are not at all who my pride made you seem.”

He strokes a hand down your cheek, thumb tracing the bridge of your nose. “I’m here.”

Your darling husband. The man you had fallen for in the last few weeks was the one in front of you all the time. Your heart sinks and soars and constricts. How you could have been so foolish in the years since you had met Gwilym, you couldn’t possibly understand. Looking into his earnest eyes, you wonder how you could have ever called this man arrogant, pompous, or smarmy. You’ve been a terrible fool.

With one, two, three soft kisses, you wrap your arms tightly around Gwilym, holding him close to your heart and silently begging him to listen to the way it beats for him. “I’m going to make this up to you,” you promise.

Gwilym shakes his head, kissing your temple. “This is all I want. Just keep me close.”

And that, you think, is a promise that would be hard to break.

[world-of-wales]

ＴＨＥ ＲＯＹＡＬ ＣＨＲＯＮＩＣＬＥＳ : The Royal Wedding of Prince William & Catherine Middleton .* :☆ﾟ｡ ･

HRH Prince William Arthur Philip Louis and Miss. Catherine Elizabeth Middleton married in a religious ceremony at Westminster Abbey on what is my favourite day ever aka 29 April, 2011.

For the day, William was in the red tunic of the Colonel of the Irish Guards uniform with a forage cap bearing the Irish Guards insignia. He wore the Order of the Garter Star and Blue Riband to which his RAF Wings & Golden Jubilee Medal were fastened.

Meanwhile Catherine was a fairytale disney princess in a dress by Surah Burton of Alexander McQueen with the Cartier Scroll Tiara and a pair of diamond acorn earrings from Robinson Pelham. Her bridal bouquet featured myrtle, lily-of-the-valley, sweet William, ivy, and hyacinth.

Catherine was walked down the aisle by her father, Michael with whom she had travelled from Goring Hotel. Her sister Pippa was the maid of honour.

Will & Cat vowed to love, honour and cherish each other during the ceremony performed by the Archbishop of Cantebury.

He gave Catalina a ring made from Welsh Gold keeping with the tradition within the Royal Family.

Following the ceremony in true fairytale fashion, the new Duke and Duchess of Cambridge travelled in a horse-drawn carriage procession to Buckingham Palace.

They appeared on the Palace Balcony and shared TWO KISSES to the delight of the crowd gathered below and to my Disney obsessed self who'd been glued to the TV the entire time.

A Reception was held by the Queen in their honour at Bucking Palace, after which William drove his babykins to Clarence House in an Aston Martin DB6 Volante. Another private dinner was hosted by The Prince of Wales for his son and new daughter-in-law.

This was quite literally THE WEDDING OF THE CENTURY! Aaaahhh all those feels of the day, everything was just perfect. Honestly for me nothing is ever topping twenty-ninth of april of 2011. And I don't think there was anyone who wasn't enveloped by the happiness radiating off of these two that day.

Nobody can talk about the day without talking about the goddess that our homegirl looked like that day, KateEffect had always been a thing but THIS DRESS like >>>>

[a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives]

AMC Picks Up Captain Nemo Origin Series ‘Nautilus’ From Disney, Plans to Air Show in 2024

The Captain Nemo origin story series “Nautilus” lives on, with AMC Networks licensing the U.S. and Canadian linear and streaming rights to the live-action series from Disney Entertainment.

The 10-episode show was originally slated to air on Disney+, but it was announced back in August that the show was not going forward at the streamer as part of a wide-ranging cost cutting initiative at the Mouse House.

AMC and AMC+ will now air the show as a special television event in 2024, with an exact premiere date to be announced later. Inspired by Jules Vernes’ “Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea,” the show will explore the early life of Captain Nemo, who is played by Shazad Latif. The character is described as “an Indian Prince robbed of his birthright and family, a prisoner of the East India Mercantile Company and a man bent on revenge against the forces that have taken everything from him.”

“’Nautilus’ is a big, sweeping drama that is sure to appeal to fans of our Anne Rice Immortal Universe and other buzzy and fan-forward series like ‘Orphan Black: Echoes,’” said Ben Davis, executive vice president of original programming for AMC Networks and AMC Studios. “We are looking forward to bringing it to AMC+ and AMC as a special television event next year.”

Along with Latif, the cast of the show includes Georgia Flood, Thierry Fremont and Céline Menville, with guest appearances from Richard E. Grant, Anna Torv and Noah Taylor.

The series was developed and produced by Moonriver TV’s Xavier Marchand and Seven Stories’ Anand Tucker. James Dormer serves as writer and executive producer. Johanna Devereaux, Chris Loveall, Colleen Woodcock, and Daisy Gilbert also executive produce. Cameron Welsh serves as producer. Michael Matthews was the lead director.

“I am hugely excited that the efforts of everyone involved in the making of the show will be seen on such a prestigious network,” said Dormer.

“We are so thrilled to present the epic adventures of Captain Nemo and his legendary submarine The Nautilus alongside the other incredible AMC universes,” said Marchand and Tucker. “The series will take viewers on a breathtaking journey with Nemo and his crew, battling terrifying creatures and the dark forces of the British Empire.”

“Nautilus” is distributed by Disney Entertainment and acknowledges the support from the Australian Government’s Location Incentive and from the Queensland Government via Screen Queensland’s Production Attraction Strategy.

Source: The Variety

[theonlinemuse]

Welcome to our first bonus blog, the new post segment where we’ll be covering all the miscellaneous things about insert-media-here that didn’t make it into the episode! This week we’re sharing observations and fun facts about the 2021 release of The Green Knight starring Dev Patel as told by IER’s very own Shamila Karunakaran, who unfortunately had to bow out of recording due to losing her voice. 

This post touches on themes of racism and sexual harassment. And as always, beware of spoilers:

People in this movie really love to cradle Gawain’s face (it's understandable though, Dev Patel and his magnificent beard are extremely pretty here) and the lord and the lady are clearly trying to recruit him as their third.

Bi!Gawain is hardly a concept exclusive to the movie either. In the original story, he kisses both the lady and the lord eagerly without being prompted. He even kisses the lord three times! It’s not like in the film where Gawain is being harassed by the lady and the lord on separate occasions and is clearly frightened by their intimidation. It’s hardly necessary when there’s so much enthusiastic consent in the source material itself. 

Dev Patel continues to be adorable with animals as seen with Armani the horse. He’d never ridden a horse before so not only did Dev feed his animal co-star dandelions in between takes, he also tried to gain Armani’s favour by sneaking him apples he had pilfered from the hotel lobby. Petition for Dev to play a Disney prince in 2024! 

Gawain’s encounter with Erin Kellyman’s character is itself a retelling within a retelling! It’s only mentioned briefly in one line of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, but St. Winifred was an seventh-century Welsh martyr who had wanted to become a nun. According to legend, a travelling prince became enamoured with her beauty and tried to force himself on her after she rejected him and when she fled to her uncle’s church, the prince decapitated her after the ensuing chase. A healing spring appeared where her head fell and she was brought back to life when her uncle returned her head to her body, but she would have a red mark around her neck where it had been sliced through for the rest of her life. 

Some of the details have been changed in the film with the suitor now being a lord who returned to kill her after she rejected his advances, but unsurprisingly, Winifred herself is the patron saint against unwanted advances. When you take into consideration that Winifred is played by a white and Jamaican actress and how her bodily autonomy has been violated by a white man for rejecting what he wanted from her, it’s understandable that Winifred gets upset and outright questions why Gawain would ever ask what she would give him in return for her head. 

She likely thought that she found an ally in a non-white Gawain, but even if he was going through the chivalry script, there’s still an expectation and entitlement to get something in return. Gawain still has a certain privilege over Winifred simply through being non-Black. 

I do love that they took this not even a footnote of a character from the original story and fleshed out a scene for her and I do love that Erin Kellyman got to play a traditionally white character. That being said, she shouldn’t have been the only Black character in the film and don’t try to argue for historical accuracy, more Black British actresses in period pieces, period! 

Fun fact: the places in Wales where St. Winifred was decapitated is traditionally considered to be a place Gawain passed through on his way to the Green Chapel. The original story references Gawain traveling past a place called "Holy Hede", which modern scholars generally agree is the Welsh town of Holywell, the site of St. Winifred’s Well. 

Very irrelevant detail, but the way that Sarita Choudhury is dressed in The Green Knight reminds me of Sophie Okonedo's wardrobe as Margaret of Anjou in The Hollow Crown. It’s an interesting throughline considering Sarita and Sophie both play complicated older female characters who were originally white in their respective old British source materials and have lost their sons by the end of their respective stories, depending on the interpretation you go with for the former. 

If I had a nickel... well, I’d have three since Gawain goes on to lose his own son in the vision of the bad future he has.

But let’s get further into Sarita’s casting or more specifically, who she plays in the movie. And to the trolls in the comments, Sarita is half white and her character is canonically Arthur's half-sister, both in the film and the source material, it's perfectly plausible for Sarita and Sean Harris to play siblings. 

While Sarita’s character is simply called Mother in the credits, she’s a composite of both Morgause and Morgan le Fay, both half-sisters of Arthur in legend. Morgause is mother to Gawain and his more infamous half-brother Mordred (Sacha Dhawan for the role anyone?) while Morgan le Fay is the sorceress orchestrating the events of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

And Gawain himself is also a composite with Mordred, especially the part where he is Arthur’s delfacto heir and is despised by his subjects. 

As David Lowery states, the relationship between Morgan le Fay and Gawain written for the film evokes Lowery's own experiences with his mother and needing to be pushed to stand on his own as an adult. Having mother and son both be brown in the film adds another layer to an already complicated relationship and reminds me WAY too much of what it was like growing up with a brown mother myself. 

When you think more on it, Gawain and Morgan being brown gives further insight into their motivations. It’s telling that even with all his flaws, Gawain as a brown man would still see himself as unfit to be heir to his legendary white uncle. He himself even says that “I have [no tales of myself] to tell”, which works on a metatextual level since there are very few popular portrayals of Arthurian Knights who look anything like Dev Patel.

With Morgan’s case, you could argue that her being brown would be another sign of her being “othered” in Camelot. Even though her half-brother is king, it’s already canon that he hasn’t been very involved in Morgan and Gawain’s lives and if he didn’t give them support, who else would? Especially since it’s already established that even the tavern patrons have no respect for Morgan, freely insulting her to Gawain’s face.

With that context in mind, it makes sense that Morgan would be more proactive in being a shaper of destiny for both herself and her son, even if that means bringing down the fall of a society she had no place in. 

And consider this: given who his mother is, the vision that Gawain has about the bad future near the end of the film: was it really the product of his imagination or did he inherit some form of magic from Morgan le Fay after all? You could argue that the Green Knight is responsible for causing the vision, but when you realize the extent of Morgan’s role in summoning him in the source material...

Finally, what sort of story would you come up with for the little girl playing with Arthur’s crown in the stinger? What would be her role in a potential sequel? Is she Gawain’s foil or would she be more like him than she’d like to admit? What sort of relationship does she have with Morgan le Fay? Is she the future heir of Camelot or does she spell trouble by inheriting her grandmother's magic? Or porque no los dos? If this is something you’d be interested in exploring, dear listeners, we bequeath this prompt to you.

[darklingichor]

Summer of Danes, by Ellis Peters

This is something of a cheat. I can't remember a lot of this one because I spaced out... a lot.

I love history but as I have said before succession and politics can make anything boring, including a murder mystery.

It's a pity because Brother Mark is in this one, and he's always been such a nice character to follow.

Mark and Cadfael must ride into Wales Mark as an envoy for the Roman church. It is changing some rules in the Welsh sect (Priests can't have families). Brother Cadfael is Mark's interpreter.

They meet with a Welsh priest who is being something of a jerk to his daughter, because under the new rites, her very existence can jepodize his climb up the ranks of the church.

He's marrying her off far away, and she is none too happy about it. All the holy men and the girl, who is being escorted to her betrothed, ride into the home of a Welsh prince who Mark is also supposed to meet with.

And here's where I gradually started feeling my eyes cross.

As if we haven't had enough royal squabbling with King Stephen and Emperess Maud, now we have to deal with this prince and his banished brother who is spoiling for a fight.

Different players, different system of rule, still dreadfully dull.

At this point I started to imagine the players like characters from Disney's Robin Hood. The two prince's were two prince John lions, the jerk priest was a big ugly wolf, the girl was a black fox (the only thing I clearly remember of her is that her hair was black)The guy she was flirting with to piss off her father was a rooster, Brother Cadfael looked just like the Friar Tuck badger, Mark was a mouse, and the loyal to a fault soilder was a bear.

It didn't help much.

There was a murder, the black fox runs off, our mouse and badger must go after her to keep her from danger, the wolf rightly feels like an ass. I lost track (and interest) in the rest of the characters.

Eventually the murderer is found the girl marries who she wants and Mark and Cadfael go home.

This one is almost as dull as The Heartic's Apprentice.

[deepestphotoshopwonderwomanpaper]

My Disney fanfics fairy with a twist name meaning

Mirabelle Charming - mc meaning- Derived from the Latin word mirabilis, meaning "wonderous beauty," Mirabelle has been immortalized in the French language as a name meaning "wonderful."

Charming a member of the Charming family not related to Daring or Dexter

Jack - Jack is a masculine British name meaning “God is gracious.” This name came about in medieval England as a variation of John and Jacob.

Some believe the name to mean "war hall", as evidenced by the castle in a field of blood on its family crest and the Visigothic cultural origins of the nation of Spain. González is also taken to mean "son of Gonzalo", "noble warrior", "soldier" or "castle guard".

Finn - full name Griffin Griffin is a baby boy name of Welsh origin. Meaning “lord” or “prince,” Griffin is an Anglicized name that derives from the Latin title Griffinus.

Nickname Finn is a boy's name of Irish origin, meaning “fair.”

Kaimbe - In Europe, Kai is largely considered to have Frisian. origin as a diminutive of the name Kaimbe, meaning. “warrior”, or as a short form of Gerard "brave spear".

Thatch - her father’s Milo last name dry measure for grain equal to ten dou 斗, ten pecks, one hundred liters, rock, stone, stone

[brookston]

Holidays 3.4

Holidays

Benjamin Harrison Day (Indiana)

Brain Injury Awareness Day

Casmir’s Day (Lithuania, Poland)

Catherine O’Hara Day

Charter Day (Pennsylvania)

Courageous Followers Day

Dance the Waltz Day

Do Something Day

Festival of Pirate Utopias

Game Master’s Day

Global Day of the Engineer

Healing From the Inside Out Day

Hot Springs National Park Day

Holy Experiment Day

Hug A G.I. Day (a.k.a. Hug a Member of the Military Day)

International GM Appreciation Day (a.k.a. Game Master’s Day)

International HPV Awareness Day

International Scrapbooking Industry Day

March Forth — Do Something Day

Marching Music Day (a.k.a. Marching Band Day)

National Backcountry Ski Day

National Grammar Day

National Ida Day

National Marching Arts Day

National Quinton Day

National Ray Day

National Safety Day (India)

National Sons Day

National Waltz Day

Old Inauguration Day (US)

Racial Healing and Reconciliation Day

Sultan’s Coronation Day (Malaysia)

This Way To the Egress Day

Toy Soldier Day

U.S. Congress Day

World Day of the Fight Against Sexual Exploitation

World Engineering Day for Sustainable Development

World Evanescence Day

World Information Architecture Day

World Obesity Day

Zhonghe Festival (China)

Food & Drink Celebrations

American Tavern Day

Cadbury Chocolate Day

National Pound Cake Day

National Snack Day

1st Saturday in March

Georgia Beer Day (Georgia) [1st Saturday]

Iditarod Dogsled Race begins [Saturday of 1st Full Weekend]

International Open Data Day [1st Saturday]

National American Paddlefish Day

National Platypus Day [1st Saturday]

National Play Outside Day [1st Saturday of Every Month]

National R&B Music Day [1st Saturday]

Running of the Reindeer (Alaska) [1st Saturday]

Satyr's Day (Silenus, Greek God of Beer Buddies and Drinking Companions) [1st Saturday of Each Month]

Sock Monkey Day [1st Saturday]

World Telemark Day [1st Saturday]

Independence Days

Vermont Statehood Day (#14; 1791)

Feast Days

Adrian of Nicomedia (Christian; Saint) [brewers] *

The Anestheria (Festival of Flowers; Ancient Greece)

Bulwar-Lytton Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Casimir, Prince of Poland (Christian; Saint)

Feast of Ra in His Barge at Heliopolis (Ancient Egypt)

Feast of Rhiannon (Celtic/Welsh Mother Goddess)

Feast of Tou Tei (Earth God; Macau) [2nd Day of 2nd Lunar Month]

Felix of Rhuys (Christian; Saint)

Giovanni Antonio Farina (Catholic Church)

Humbert III, Count of Savoy (Roman Catholic Church)

Lucius, Pope and Martyr (Christian; Saint)

Maha Shivaratri (Great Night of Shiva, Vigil & Feast for Transendence; Hinduism)

March Forth and Demand Something Day (Pastafarian)

Media Hiems II (Pagan)

Paul Cuffee (Episcopal Church)

Peter of Pappacarbone (Christian; Saint)

Random Day (Pastafarian)

Rowlf the Dog (Muppetism)

Smerdley (Muppetism)

Thales (Positivist; Saint)

Zoltán Meszlényi (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Fatal Day (Pagan) [6 of 24]

Tomobiki (友引 Japan) [Good luck all day, except at noon.]

Tycho Brahe Unlucky Day (Scandinavia) [12 of 37]

Premieres

The Adjustment Bureau (Film; 2011)

Babette’s Feast (Film; 1988)

The Batman (Film; 2022)

Cinderella (Animated Disney Cartoon; 1950)

Be Cool (Film; 2005)

The Chase (Film; 1994)

Chocolat, by Joanne Harris (Novel; 1999)

Cinderella (Animated Disney Film; 1950)

Fallen, by Evanescence (Album; 2003)

Here’s Little Richard, by Little Richard (Album; 1957)

London Has Fallen (Film; 2016)

No, by Meghan Trainor (Song; 2016)

Nosferatu (Silent Film; 1922)

Pluto’s Surprise Package (Disney Cartoon; 1949)

Police Squad! (TV Series; 1982)

Rango (Animated Film; 2011)

’Round About Midnight, by Miles Davis (Album; 1957)

Sherlock Holmes in “A Study in Scarlet” (Novel; 1881)

The SpongeBob Movie on the Run (Animated Film; 2021)

Surfing’ U.S.A., by The Beach Boys (Song; 1963)

Swan Lake, by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (Ballet; 1877)

Symphony No. 2, a.k.a. Resurrection, by Gustav Mahler (Symphony; 1895)

Tender Mercies (Film; 1983)

Up Periscope (Film; 1959)

The Voice of Frank Sinatra, by Frank Sinatra (Album; 1946)

Waterloo, by Abba (Song; 1974)

We're Only in It for the Money, by Frank Zappa & The Mothers of Invention (Album; 1968)

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (Film; 2016)

Zootopia (Animated Film; 2016)

Today’s Name Days

Edwin, Humbert, Kasimir (Austria)

Bozhidar, Bozhidara, Dora, Gerasim, Teodor, Teodora, Todor (Bulgaria)

Eugen, Kazimir, Miro, Natko (Croatia)

Stela (Czech Republic)

Adrianus (Denmark)

Almar, Eimar, Elmar, Elmer, Elmet, Elmo (Estonia)

Ari, Arsi, Atro (Finland)

Casimir (France)

Edwin, Humbert, Kasimir (Germany)

Gerasimos, Theodoros (Greece)

Kázmér (Hungary)

Casimiro, Lucio, Nestore, Umberto, Urbano (Italy)

Alise, Auce (Latvia)

Daina, Daugvydas, Kazimieras, Vaclava (Lithuania)

Ada, Adrian (Norway)

Adrian, Adrianna, Arkadiusz, Arkady, Eugeniusz, Kazimierz, Lew, Lucja, Łucja, Lucjusz, Wacław, Wacława (Poland)

Gherasim, Teodor (Romania)

Kazimír (Slovakia)

Casimiro (Spain)

Adrian, Adriana (Sweden)

Julianna, Julianna (Ukraine)

Casimir, Humbert, Humberto, Kasimir, Kasimira, Placida, Placidia (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 63 of 2023; 302 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 6 of week 9 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Nuin (Ash) [Day 14 of 28]

Chinese: Month 2 (Yi-Mao), Day 13 (Xin-You)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 11 Adar 5783

Islamic: 11 Sha’ban 1444

J Cal: 2 Ver; Twosday [2 of 30]

Julian: 19 February 2023

Moon: 93%: Waxing Gibbous

Positivist: 67 Aristotle (3rd Month) [Thales]

Runic Half Month: Tyr (Cosmic Pillar) [Day 9 of 15]

Season: Winter (Day 74 of 90)

Zodiac: Pisces (Day 13 of 29)

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 3.4

Holidays

Benjamin Harrison Day (Indiana)

Brain Injury Awareness Day

Casmir’s Day (Lithuania, Poland)

Catherine O’Hara Day

Charter Day (Pennsylvania)

Courageous Followers Day

Dance the Waltz Day

Do Something Day

Festival of Pirate Utopias

Game Master’s Day

Global Day of the Engineer

Healing From the Inside Out Day

Hot Springs National Park Day

Holy Experiment Day

Hug A G.I. Day (a.k.a. Hug a Member of the Military Day)

International GM Appreciation Day (a.k.a. Game Master’s Day)

International HPV Awareness Day

International Scrapbooking Industry Day

March Forth — Do Something Day

Marching Music Day (a.k.a. Marching Band Day)

National Backcountry Ski Day

National Grammar Day

National Ida Day

National Marching Arts Day

National Quinton Day

National Ray Day

National Safety Day (India)

National Sons Day

National Waltz Day

Old Inauguration Day (US)

Racial Healing and Reconciliation Day

Sultan’s Coronation Day (Malaysia)

This Way To the Egress Day

Toy Soldier Day

U.S. Congress Day

World Day of the Fight Against Sexual Exploitation

World Engineering Day for Sustainable Development

World Evanescence Day

World Information Architecture Day

World Obesity Day

Zhonghe Festival (China)

Food & Drink Celebrations

American Tavern Day

Cadbury Chocolate Day

National Pound Cake Day

National Snack Day

1st Saturday in March

Georgia Beer Day (Georgia) [1st Saturday]

Iditarod Dogsled Race begins [Saturday of 1st Full Weekend]

International Open Data Day [1st Saturday]

National American Paddlefish Day

National Platypus Day [1st Saturday]

National Play Outside Day [1st Saturday of Every Month]

National R&B Music Day [1st Saturday]

Running of the Reindeer (Alaska) [1st Saturday]

Satyr's Day (Silenus, Greek God of Beer Buddies and Drinking Companions) [1st Saturday of Each Month]

Sock Monkey Day [1st Saturday]

World Telemark Day [1st Saturday]

Independence Days

Vermont Statehood Day (#14; 1791)

Feast Days

Adrian of Nicomedia (Christian; Saint) [brewers] *

The Anestheria (Festival of Flowers; Ancient Greece)

Bulwar-Lytton Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Casimir, Prince of Poland (Christian; Saint)

Feast of Ra in His Barge at Heliopolis (Ancient Egypt)

Feast of Rhiannon (Celtic/Welsh Mother Goddess)

Feast of Tou Tei (Earth God; Macau) [2nd Day of 2nd Lunar Month]

Felix of Rhuys (Christian; Saint)

Giovanni Antonio Farina (Catholic Church)

Humbert III, Count of Savoy (Roman Catholic Church)

Lucius, Pope and Martyr (Christian; Saint)

Maha Shivaratri (Great Night of Shiva, Vigil & Feast for Transendence; Hinduism)

March Forth and Demand Something Day (Pastafarian)

Media Hiems II (Pagan)

Paul Cuffee (Episcopal Church)

Peter of Pappacarbone (Christian; Saint)

Random Day (Pastafarian)

Rowlf the Dog (Muppetism)

Smerdley (Muppetism)

Thales (Positivist; Saint)

Zoltán Meszlényi (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Fatal Day (Pagan) [6 of 24]

Tomobiki (友引 Japan) [Good luck all day, except at noon.]

Tycho Brahe Unlucky Day (Scandinavia) [12 of 37]

Premieres

The Adjustment Bureau (Film; 2011)

Babette’s Feast (Film; 1988)

The Batman (Film; 2022)

Cinderella (Animated Disney Cartoon; 1950)

Be Cool (Film; 2005)

The Chase (Film; 1994)

Chocolat, by Joanne Harris (Novel; 1999)

Cinderella (Animated Disney Film; 1950)

Fallen, by Evanescence (Album; 2003)

Here’s Little Richard, by Little Richard (Album; 1957)

London Has Fallen (Film; 2016)

No, by Meghan Trainor (Song; 2016)

Nosferatu (Silent Film; 1922)

Pluto’s Surprise Package (Disney Cartoon; 1949)

Police Squad! (TV Series; 1982)

Rango (Animated Film; 2011)

’Round About Midnight, by Miles Davis (Album; 1957)

Sherlock Holmes in “A Study in Scarlet” (Novel; 1881)

The SpongeBob Movie on the Run (Animated Film; 2021)

Surfing’ U.S.A., by The Beach Boys (Song; 1963)

Swan Lake, by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (Ballet; 1877)

Symphony No. 2, a.k.a. Resurrection, by Gustav Mahler (Symphony; 1895)

Tender Mercies (Film; 1983)

Up Periscope (Film; 1959)

The Voice of Frank Sinatra, by Frank Sinatra (Album; 1946)

Waterloo, by Abba (Song; 1974)

We're Only in It for the Money, by Frank Zappa & The Mothers of Invention (Album; 1968)

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (Film; 2016)

Zootopia (Animated Film; 2016)

Today’s Name Days

Edwin, Humbert, Kasimir (Austria)

Bozhidar, Bozhidara, Dora, Gerasim, Teodor, Teodora, Todor (Bulgaria)

Eugen, Kazimir, Miro, Natko (Croatia)

Stela (Czech Republic)

Adrianus (Denmark)

Almar, Eimar, Elmar, Elmer, Elmet, Elmo (Estonia)

Ari, Arsi, Atro (Finland)

Casimir (France)

Edwin, Humbert, Kasimir (Germany)

Gerasimos, Theodoros (Greece)

Kázmér (Hungary)

Casimiro, Lucio, Nestore, Umberto, Urbano (Italy)

Alise, Auce (Latvia)

Daina, Daugvydas, Kazimieras, Vaclava (Lithuania)

Ada, Adrian (Norway)

Adrian, Adrianna, Arkadiusz, Arkady, Eugeniusz, Kazimierz, Lew, Lucja, Łucja, Lucjusz, Wacław, Wacława (Poland)

Gherasim, Teodor (Romania)

Kazimír (Slovakia)

Casimiro (Spain)

Adrian, Adriana (Sweden)

Julianna, Julianna (Ukraine)

Casimir, Humbert, Humberto, Kasimir, Kasimira, Placida, Placidia (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 63 of 2023; 302 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 6 of week 9 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Nuin (Ash) [Day 14 of 28]

Chinese: Month 2 (Yi-Mao), Day 13 (Xin-You)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 11 Adar 5783

Islamic: 11 Sha’ban 1444

J Cal: 2 Ver; Twosday [2 of 30]

Julian: 19 February 2023

Moon: 93%: Waxing Gibbous

Positivist: 67 Aristotle (3rd Month) [Thales]

Runic Half Month: Tyr (Cosmic Pillar) [Day 9 of 15]

Season: Winter (Day 74 of 90)

Zodiac: Pisces (Day 13 of 29)

[amashelle]

The Book of Mordred by Vivian Vande Velde <3<3<3

I am Mordred and I am Morgan le Fey by Nancy Springer

Disney's The Sword in the Stone

For really young readers, there's also Queen Guinevere by Mary Hoffman and Christinal Balit (it's illustrated)

The Winter Prince by Elizabeth E. Wein

The Quest for Olwen by Gwyn Thomas, Kevin Crossley-Holland, and Margaret Jones (Illustrator) [This one also has a Welsh language version called Culhwch ac Olwen]

Arthurian friends !! I am working on a side project on adapting arthuriana for young audiences (children and young teenagers) and I would be interested in hearing which books particularly shaped your knowledge of arthuriana as young readers of either French or English! Feel free to drop a comment on this post or an ask :) thanks !!

[likesomekindofcheese]

Prayer Circle

🕯🕯🕯

🕯 Grigor/Marial is 🕯

🕯 retconned in S3 🕯

🕯 of The Great 🕯

🕯 And he goes back 🕯

🕯 To his wife 🕯

🕯 🕯

🕯 🕯 🕯

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

Look I know Myfanwy is a girl’s name but I just thought of Eilonwy calling Llwellyn that and screw this, it’s gender neutral now

[brookston]

Holidays 1.25

Holidays

Big Rock Day

Biologist’s Day (Mexico)

Burns Night (a.k.a. Robert Burns Day; Scotland)

Criminon Day (Scientology)

Dinner Party Day

Dydd Santes Dwynwen (Welsh Valentine's Day)

Festival of Constructive Energy

Fluoride Day

G.F. Betico Croes Day (Aruba)

International Day of Women in Multilateralism

IV Nurse Day (a.k.a. Intravenous Nurse Day)

Long Distance Day

Luanda City Day (Angola)

Macintosh Computer Day (a.k.a. Mac Day)

National Florida Day

National Heroes’ Day (Cayman Islands)

National Moose Day

National Nutrition Day (Indonesia)

National Opposite Day

National Police Day (Egypt)

National Tourism Day (India)

National Videography Day

National Voters’ Day (India)

Nut’s Day (Ancient Egyptian)

Observe the Weather Day

Public Holiday (Saint Vincent and Grenadines)

Revolution Day 2011 (Egypt)

A Room of One's Own Day

Soda Fountain Day

Tatiana Day (a.k.a. Students Day; Russia, Ukraine)

Wedding March Day

Winter-een-mas begins [thru 31st]

Winter Olympics Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

National Fish Taco Day

National Irish Coffee Day

Schnitzelbank Bratwurst Day (Jasper, Indiana)

4th & Last Wednesday in January

Library Shelfie Day [4th Wednesday]

Weedless Wednesday [4th Wednesday]

Independence Days

Federated States of Antarctica (Declared; 2009) [unrecognized]

Foundation Day (Sao Paulo, Brazil)

Islamic Emirate of Acre (Declared; 2020) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Apollo (Christian; Saint)

Burns Night (Pastafarian)

Conversion of Saint Paul (Eastern Orthodox, Oriental Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Anglican and Lutheran churches, which concludes the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity)

Dwynwen (UK; Saint)

Dydd Santes Dwynwen (Wales)

Feriae Sementivae (Ancient Roman Feast to Spring)

Gather Bathou San (Assam, India)

Great Uncle Fishknife (Muppetism)

Gregory the Theologian (Eastern or Byzantine Catholic Church)

Himachal Pradesh Statehood Day (India)

Imoinu Irapta (Manipur, India)

Isaiah (Positivist; Saint)

Juventinus and Maximinus, Martyrs of Antioch (Christian; Saint)

Keith Moon Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Old Disting (Norse)

Poppo of Stavello (Christian; Saint)

Prejectus (a.k.a. Prix; Christian; Saint)

Publius (Christian; Saint)

The last day of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity (Christian ecumenism)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Butsumetsu (仏滅 Japan) [Unlucky all day.]

Dismal Day (Unlucky or Evil Day; Medieval Europe; 2 of 24)

Egyptian Day (Unlucky Day; Middle Ages Europe) [2 of 24]

Premieres

Birds of Prey (Film; 2020)

Black Sails (TV Series; 2014)

Elektra, by Richard Strauss (Opera; 1909)

The Grifters (Film; 1991)

Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters (Film; 2013)

La Cenerentola (a.k.a. Cinderella), by Gioachino Riossini (Opera; 1817)

Lucifer (TV Series; 2016)

M*A*S*H (Film; 1970)

Metamorphosen, by Richard Strauss (Small Ensemble Piece; 1945)

101 Dalmatians (Animated Disney Film; 1961)

The Perils of Gwendolyn in the Land of the Yik Yak (Film; 1985)

Polar (Film; 2019)

Skins (UK TV Series; 2007)

The Thin Man Goes Home (Film; 1945)

Unplugged, recorded by Paul McCartney (Live TV Concert; 1991)

A Walk to Remember (Film; 2002)

Today’s Name Days

Paulus, Wolfram (Austria)

Grigor (Bulgaria)

Ananija, Pavao, Projekto (Croatia)

Miloš (Czech Republic)

Paap, Paavel, Paavo, Paul (Estonia)

Paavali, Paavo, Paul, Pauli, Paulus (Finland)

Pauli Bekehrung, Wolfram (Germany)

Gregorios, Gregoris, Gregory, Grigorios, Grigoris, Margaret, Margarita (Greece)

Pál (Hungary)

Paolo, Sabino, Savino (Italy)

Sigurds, Zigurds, Zigvalda, Zigvalds (Latvia)

Jaunutis, Jomantas, Povilas, Viltenis, Žiedė (Lithuania)

Pål, Paul (Norway)

Miłosz, Miłowan, Miłowit, Paweł, Tacjanna, Tatiana (Poland)

Bretanion, Grigorie (Romania)

Tatyana (Russia)

Gejza (Slovakia)

Elvira, Pablo (Spain)

Pål, Paul, Paulus (Sweden)

Amari, Amir, Amira, Amarion, Gwayne, Hakon, Hawk, Jamari, Prince, Princess (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 25 of 2023; 340 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 3 of week 4 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Luis (Rowan) [Day 4 of 28]

Chinese: Month 1 (Jia-Yin), Day 4 (Gui-Wei)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 3 Shevat 5783

Islamic: 3 Rajab II 1444

J Cal: 25 Aer; Foursday [25 of 30]

Julian: 12 January 2023

Moon: 21%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 25 Moses (1st Month), Isiah 

Runic Half Month: Elhaz (Elk) [Day 1 of 15]

Season: Winter (Day 36 of 90)

Zodiac: Aquarius (Day 5 of 30)

Calendar Changes

Elhaz (Elk) [Half-Month 3 of 24; Runic Half-Months] (thru 2.8)

[likesomekindofcheese]

🎶aaaaallll I want for Christmaaaaaas iiiiis yooooouuu (Gwil)🎶

Gwilym in Cool America magazine: (x)

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 1.25

Holidays

Big Rock Day

Biologist’s Day (Mexico)

Burns Night (a.k.a. Robert Burns Day; Scotland)

Criminon Day (Scientology)

Dinner Party Day

Dydd Santes Dwynwen (Welsh Valentine's Day)

Festival of Constructive Energy

Fluoride Day

G.F. Betico Croes Day (Aruba)

International Day of Women in Multilateralism

IV Nurse Day (a.k.a. Intravenous Nurse Day)

Long Distance Day

Luanda City Day (Angola)

Macintosh Computer Day (a.k.a. Mac Day)

National Florida Day

National Heroes’ Day (Cayman Islands)

National Moose Day

National Nutrition Day (Indonesia)

National Opposite Day

National Police Day (Egypt)

National Tourism Day (India)

National Videography Day

National Voters’ Day (India)

Nut’s Day (Ancient Egyptian)

Observe the Weather Day

Public Holiday (Saint Vincent and Grenadines)

Revolution Day 2011 (Egypt)

A Room of One's Own Day

Soda Fountain Day

Tatiana Day (a.k.a. Students Day; Russia, Ukraine)

Wedding March Day

Winter-een-mas begins [thru 31st]

Winter Olympics Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

National Fish Taco Day

National Irish Coffee Day

Schnitzelbank Bratwurst Day (Jasper, Indiana)

4th & Last Wednesday in January

Library Shelfie Day [4th Wednesday]

Weedless Wednesday [4th Wednesday]

Independence Days

Federated States of Antarctica (Declared; 2009) [unrecognized]

Foundation Day (Sao Paulo, Brazil)

Islamic Emirate of Acre (Declared; 2020) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Apollo (Christian; Saint)

Burns Night (Pastafarian)

Conversion of Saint Paul (Eastern Orthodox, Oriental Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Anglican and Lutheran churches, which concludes the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity)

Dwynwen (UK; Saint)

Dydd Santes Dwynwen (Wales)

Feriae Sementivae (Ancient Roman Feast to Spring)

Gather Bathou San (Assam, India)

Great Uncle Fishknife (Muppetism)

Gregory the Theologian (Eastern or Byzantine Catholic Church)

Himachal Pradesh Statehood Day (India)

Imoinu Irapta (Manipur, India)

Isaiah (Positivist; Saint)

Juventinus and Maximinus, Martyrs of Antioch (Christian; Saint)

Keith Moon Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Old Disting (Norse)

Poppo of Stavello (Christian; Saint)

Prejectus (a.k.a. Prix; Christian; Saint)

Publius (Christian; Saint)

The last day of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity (Christian ecumenism)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Butsumetsu (仏滅 Japan) [Unlucky all day.]

Dismal Day (Unlucky or Evil Day; Medieval Europe; 2 of 24)

Egyptian Day (Unlucky Day; Middle Ages Europe) [2 of 24]

Premieres

Birds of Prey (Film; 2020)

Black Sails (TV Series; 2014)

Elektra, by Richard Strauss (Opera; 1909)

The Grifters (Film; 1991)

Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters (Film; 2013)

La Cenerentola (a.k.a. Cinderella), by Gioachino Riossini (Opera; 1817)

Lucifer (TV Series; 2016)

M*A*S*H (Film; 1970)

Metamorphosen, by Richard Strauss (Small Ensemble Piece; 1945)

101 Dalmatians (Animated Disney Film; 1961)

The Perils of Gwendolyn in the Land of the Yik Yak (Film; 1985)

Polar (Film; 2019)

Skins (UK TV Series; 2007)

The Thin Man Goes Home (Film; 1945)

Unplugged, recorded by Paul McCartney (Live TV Concert; 1991)

A Walk to Remember (Film; 2002)

Today’s Name Days

Paulus, Wolfram (Austria)

Grigor (Bulgaria)

Ananija, Pavao, Projekto (Croatia)

Miloš (Czech Republic)

Paap, Paavel, Paavo, Paul (Estonia)

Paavali, Paavo, Paul, Pauli, Paulus (Finland)

Pauli Bekehrung, Wolfram (Germany)

Gregorios, Gregoris, Gregory, Grigorios, Grigoris, Margaret, Margarita (Greece)

Pál (Hungary)

Paolo, Sabino, Savino (Italy)

Sigurds, Zigurds, Zigvalda, Zigvalds (Latvia)

Jaunutis, Jomantas, Povilas, Viltenis, Žiedė (Lithuania)

Pål, Paul (Norway)

Miłosz, Miłowan, Miłowit, Paweł, Tacjanna, Tatiana (Poland)

Bretanion, Grigorie (Romania)

Tatyana (Russia)

Gejza (Slovakia)

Elvira, Pablo (Spain)

Pål, Paul, Paulus (Sweden)

Amari, Amir, Amira, Amarion, Gwayne, Hakon, Hawk, Jamari, Prince, Princess (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 25 of 2023; 340 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 3 of week 4 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Luis (Rowan) [Day 4 of 28]

Chinese: Month 1 (Jia-Yin), Day 4 (Gui-Wei)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 3 Shevat 5783

Islamic: 3 Rajab II 1444

J Cal: 25 Aer; Foursday [25 of 30]

Julian: 12 January 2023

Moon: 21%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 25 Moses (1st Month), Isiah 

Runic Half Month: Elhaz (Elk) [Day 1 of 15]

Season: Winter (Day 36 of 90)

Zodiac: Aquarius (Day 5 of 30)

Calendar Changes

Elhaz (Elk) [Half-Month 3 of 24; Runic Half-Months] (thru 2.8)

[likesomekindofcheese]

Props to how done Gwilym! Michael Williams seems @ Tom! Henry V in this scene like…

“Like any other man my ass”

“Lord give me the strength not to smack a bitch”

“I’m about to end this man’s entire career.”