#I MEAN LOOK AT RUTH AND AL??

[gyubby99]

If I wrote any piece of media the ships will not be safe from me

#i would kill stolas off #i wouldn't bring elias back #i would keep loreley immortal #for the funnies and giggles #carol would not reunite with eathan #id make canon alistar and rosa like the canon king magnifico and queen amaya #because I realize I haven't written an oc couple whose story ends well #I MEAN LOOK AT RUTH AND AL?? #marianne and damian #selene and elizabeth??? #my demon x human ocs are literally just a parody of stolitz #amelia and dalia cant marry each other

[inky-escapism]

Was peace always this short?

 "How long more do you think we'll have this peace?" Hebaron hics, leaning his forearm on Uslin's head.

"Till the lady gets back, duh" Uslin instinctively replies whilst he held his arm out with his mug, waiting for Riftan to finish filling it.

Pricked by Uslin's swift remark, the refill dried midway as the Lord Commander tilted his head towards the two knights. "So what now? You hate my wife again?"

"No, we hate YOU" pointing his finger at a despondent Riftan, Ruth slurps loudly, "around your wife." Ruth adds on, raising his cup that covered his entire face from Riftan's sight.

"Imagine how much worse it will be when she is back" Gabel snickers, leaning against the fireplace, poking the burning logs.

"What?" Riftan thought inwards, stunned and disenchanted by his closest comrades. He thought after all this time together, they have already accepted his wife into their circle. "Guess I've to work harder." Riftan sighs in his head, nursing his beer.

"Yeah, even before becoming a proper mage... She has already turned him into a blind dog." Hebaron laughs as Uslin giggles.

"He's going to evolve into a blind dragon, when she's back." Gabel's comment sent everyone laughing into the depths.

"You know I'm still in charge of training, right?" Riftan eyed Hebaron on his left and hits the archery knight standing on his right.

"You know that trick's getting old, right." Hebaron huffs, snatching Riftan's cup away and downing it in one gulp.

"Sigh, because we are too." Uslin sighs, sinking his torso onto the chair.

"At least I don't look old" the orange knight shrugs, waving 2 mugs in Elliot’s direction, signalling him to get them more ale.

"Excuse me?" Uslin's sapphire eyes flashed vividly in the room as he harshly flicked nuts on Hebaron.

"Oh, my bad. YOU LOOK OLD, USLIN RIKAIDO." bellows Hebaron picking up the nuts and throwing back at Uslin.

"At least I act my age, Sir Hebaron Nirta" Uslin snarled, shielding his face from peanut shells, while constantly flicking more nuts at Hebaron. 

"If you did, you would have been a father." Hebaron grabs his mug from Eillot as he shoves his hand in Uslin's face. 

That remark turned the room dead quiet as everyone held their breath. Gabel almost dropped the new barrels of ale if not for Ruth's levitation spell. Elliot’s heart skipped 2 beats thinking that he would have to head down to get new kegs. Punishment for being the 1st one out in the prior drinking session. Knowing that only Hebaron could prod Uslin on anything, the crowd switched glances nervously between the two, waiting for Uslin’s reaction.  

"It's called respect. I don't even know her." Finishing his 3rd, Uslin fidgets with his cup, staring into the fireplace.

"Thanks Ruth." Elliot whispers as he took the seat beside the mage, clinking their cups and watching the drama unfold.

"You will if you make the effort. Who abandons their wife for years after getting married?" Hebaron commented, raising his eyebrows on the silent knight.

Upon hearing his comment, Riftan chokes as Ruth and Elliot burst out in tears with Gabel slamming his hands on the fireplace ledge.

"Oops, didn't mean to include you too, my friend." Hebaron pats Riftan on the back.

"Don't come lecture me on treating a lady well. You can't even stick with one." Riftan fights back between coughs.

"I'm too good looking to stick with one. Every lady wants a piece of me." Hebaron shamelessly praised himself, resting his hands on the back of his head.

"You are unbelievable." Uslin shakes his head as he fills his cup.

"See, even you're entrapped." Hebaron clings Uslin's cup and drinks, Uslin pushes him, and he almost spill but doesn’t. Hebaron never wastes alcohol.

"Have you thought of getting married?" Riftan drops a chaotic death bomb on Hebaron with a concerning look.

Gabel spits out his drink directly into the fireplace causing the flames to engorge. Ruth, who was adjusting his folded legs, fell off the chair and unwittingly pulled Elliot down with him. Uslin thew his head backwards whilst laughing so hard, his hair was messy for the first time.

Hebaron annoyed with no one but Uslin, kicked Uslin's chair and broke the leg. But Uslin stabilised the broken chair easily and flashed a cocky look to Hebaron, flaunting his superiority in balance as a knight.

"I don't believe it is a matter of him wanting to get married, but instead, a matter of the availability of ladies who will be deranged enough to want to marry HIM" Uslin pointed his finger in Hebaron’s face.

"Or maybe he can try the men."  Gabel arrowed, as Elliot poured more wine for Ruth and himself.

"Make sense. Where else can you find a lady who likes to drink and get on bed as much?" Uslin teased the “oranger by the minute” vice-commander.  

"I doubt there are many men who can even match him in drinking." Ruth rubs in as he folds his arms holding his cup in thinking mode.

"Isn't that better, the search's been narrowed down." Uslin said with a serious tone.

"Shut up" Hebaron hissed.

"You want to take a second marriage, Riftan?" Uslin asked, trying to control his laughter.

"Go to hell" said them both at the same time.

Unable to stop teasing Hebaron, Gabel managed to stop laughing for a moment. "In all seriousness, my love, (gives smoochy face) ever thought of that?"

"Riftan Calpyse, stop laughing" Hebaron kicks Riftan's shin.

Elliot looks up like a kid, sitting on the floor all along since he fell. "So do you, do you?"

"Say I do, say I do" Uslin teases in a high pitch as Ruth leaks out some wine from his lips, not able to contain his laughter.

Annoyed at all of them now, Hebaron quaffed down another cup and kicked Gabel’s chair away before he could sit down beside him.  

Despite the pain in his ass, Gabel looks up and the assignment to tease Hebaron continues "So what's your type? How hot? Hourglass?"

"Tall girl? Brunette? Blonde? Blue eyes?" Uslin adds on, continuing the momentum.

"Eww, not you. and you say you're not smitten with me?" Hebaron winks at a taken aback Uslin.

"Buzz off..." Uslin hissed, shooting Hebaron with a disgusted look.

Joining in, Riftan threw in more novel details "He likes girls who are crazily independent, strong and tough-willed. You know, some girl who can pick a fight with him and not back down."

"RIFTAN CALPYSE!" Hebaron shouts and stands up from his seat, feeling the waves of betrayal from his closest companion "I'm gonna spill yours too if you keep this up!"

"So Hebaron has the same taste as you?" Gabel hurls at Riftan who stopped laughing at once. Elliot super entertained, Uslin over the moon and Ruth cannot stop coughing while laughing.

"Well, shall I project it?" Ruth waddled towards Hebaron, cracking his fingers, about to conjure something.

“I will give you a free 5-day time off from the infirmary at the infirmary.” Hebaron swats Ruth’s hands away from his head.  

A creak from the door silenced the laughter that was flowing through the room. Maxi was back.

"Was peace always this short?" Uslin hic at a confused Maxi.

The cold glare from his Lord Commander silenced the room further. Feeling his glare, Uslin put his cup down and raises both his hands up, knocking his way out of the room with the rest of the team. Carrying each other’s weight with each other, the quintet looked like 4 kids trying to hold onto their drunk father with the 220cm knight in the middle.

#utot #riftan calypse #hebaron nirta #ruth serbel #uslin rikaido #gabel laxion #elliot caron #under the oak tree

[clementinatehasperdido]

Libros - Marzo 2024

Este mes leí algunos libros que me tocaron el corazón:

"Notes on grief" - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Amo a Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Es una novelista increíble. Pero este libro es un ensayo que escribió luego de la muerte de su padre. Es profundo, muy sentido y personal. Devastador y humano.

Realmente me puse a pensar que mientras vas armando tu vida pedacito a pedacito, esa vida también va perdiendo pedacitos y a veces esos pedacitos son personas que amamos.

Me estruja el corazón.

“Never' has come to say. 'Never' feels so unfairly punitive. For the rest of my life, I will live with my hands outstretched for things that are no longer there.”

If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho - Sappho/Anne Carson

Realmente Anne Carson hace un trabajo extraordinario con todo lo que toca. Los escritos de Sappho que sobrevivieron al tiempo llegaron a la época modera por partes y Carson, en esta edición, los trae a la vida de una forma perfecta.

Este libro llenó un espacio que no sabía que necesita ser llenado.

“for when i look at you, even a moment, no speaking is left in me no: tongue breaks and thin fire is racing under skin”

"Kitchen" - Banana Yoshimoto

Este libro me hizo llorar mucho. Sé que a veces el minimalismo de Yoshimoto no le gusta a muchos, a mi me gustó. Tenía el libro en mis pendientes hace mucho y honestamente no decepcionó. Amo la capacidad que la autora tiene para convertir las situaciones cotidianas en algo extraordinario. Nuevamente es un libro sobre el duelo. Es un libro sobre cómo la muerte une a las personas, sobre cómo la muerte paraliza y desarma pero también sobre como abren nuevas situaciones sean buenas o malas.

Es además, un libro que aborda temas de familia y lazos que nos unen a los que amamos.

“There are many days when all the awful things that happen make you sick at heart, when the path before you is so steep you can’t bear to look. Not even love can rescue a person from that.”

"A Tale for the Time Being" - Ruth Ozeki

Ruth Ozeki tiene un talento inconmensurable para escribir historias que conmueven. Esta en particular me provoca sostenerla muy cerca al corazón. Es triste y deprimente pero te llena de esperanza a la vez. Es una historia que se cuenta en dos tiempos y trae dos voces muy distintas en un relato que intenta dar cuenta de tres historias a la vez. La narración es inteligente, divertida, y el hilo fluye. La autora tiene mucha inspiración en en budismo zen, lo que aprecio mucho en su obra porque da cuenta de la experiencia personal. Ozeki es increíble. Nunca decepciona.

Es un libro, que te pide a gritos paz, parar un rato leer con calma, sentir.

“The past is weird. I mean, does it really exist ? It feels like it exists, but where is it ? And if it did exists, but doesn’t now, then where did it go ?”

#yo #libros #marzo #book #books #me

[cg29fics]

Gone

Issues with previous updates, so if you’re reading along you may want to check out the links for previous chapters. The complete fic is also available via FF.Net & A03 - CreativeGirl29

Tagging 🔖 Sorry if I’ve missed anyone - If you would like to be tagged in these updates then please let me know and I’ll add you to the list: @janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @burningcowboyhoagietaco @dragonoffantasyandreality

Previous: Chapter 45. Tracked.

Chapter 46: Talking.

Scott continued to hold Virgil in his arms, whispering comforting words to him, even though his brother had fallen asleep a short time ago. Eventually, glancing at the doorway, he noticed the eyes of his father, grandmother and three younger brothers watching him. “It’s okay you can come in.”

“His he alright?” Alan questioned with concern.

Scott nodded his reassurance before carefully laying his brother back on the bed. “How did it go?”

Gordon grinned. “Sanderson ran into Penny’s fist!”

“I bet that wasn’t pretty,” Scott remarked with a raised eyebrow.

“A black eye and definitely a concussion,” Gordon replied, “and all treatment will be courtesy of Auckland Prison.”

Scott released a sigh of relief. “So, what happens next?”

“Parker, Penny and Doctor Sylvia have accompanied the police to the station, so they can answer some questions about what happened,” John answered, “The officer told me that they would need to speak to us all at some point tomorrow morning, and then they would need to interview Virgil.”

Jeff, who was now sitting in the seat next to Virgil frowned at this news. “Do they have too? He’s been through enough without having to repeat it all.”

“They will need his statement, so they can officially file charges against her,” John replied

Ruth placed her hand reassuringly on Jeff’s shoulder. “Virgil will be okay.”

Jeff gazed his son sadly. “I don’t know, he looked like he was in such a state earlier.”

“I have to agree with dad,” Scott admitted, when he noticed everyone was looking at him for clarification. “I’ve never seen him like this, and I’m really worried about him!”

“Is he going to need counselling?” Alan asked, moving closer to his brother’s bed.

“It may be the best option for him,” Jeff confirmed, “we have a few agents who have the educational background to help, and it may be best if I bring one of them in to chat with him once he’s back home.”

“I can hear you!” Virgil yawned, opening his eyes.

“Sorry Virg,” Alan apologised, “we didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay Al,” Virgil replied, reaching out and squeezing his little brothers hand before looking back at the others, “oh, and I don’t need a counsellor!”

“Virgil, you’ve been through a lot,” Gordon stressed, “you can’t keep it bottled up.”

Virgil sighed. “I’m not bottling anything up, I spoke to Scott earlier.”

Scott shook his head. “Virg, you broke down in my arms and admitted you were scared, but you didn’t talk about anything else.”

“There’s not much else to say,” Virgil mumbled.

“I think you’ll find there’s a lot that you need to open up about,” Jeff stated, “you need to talk about what’s happened to someone, and if it’s not going to be one of us then we will bring someone else in.”

Virgil frowned, desperately wanting to change the conversation from where it was leading, when he glimpsed up at the clock on the wall that showed it was now 1am. “Shouldn’t you all be going back to the hotel for some proper rest?”

Jeff shook his head. “None of us want to leave you tonight, not after what happened.”

“But Sanderson’s been arrested… And the Hood’s in jail, right?” Virgil questioned, the fear in his voice evident.

“Yes, they both are,” Scott clarified.

“Good,” Virgil sniffed.

“Virgil, this is exactly why we need to bring someone in,” Ruth soothed, wiping away the tears that were naturally beginning to form.

“I’m not speaking to any shrink!” Virgil grimaced.

“Virgil Grissom Tracy,” Ruth said firmly, “I’m afraid you’ll just have to swallow some of that damn Tracy pride and talk!”

Virgil scrunched up his face at the use of his full name and glanced back at his family. “I will,” he sighed, realising he wasn’t going to win this argument when all of them were glaring at him sternly. Which included Gordon, who would normally be in hysterics when one of his brothers were scolded in this way, “but only to you guys, no one else.”

“That’s fine,” Ruth confirmed, “but if you don’t keep your promise, we’ll be bringing someone straight in.”

“I promise I will,” he assured her, “but not right now.”

Jeff smiled. “You don’t have to do anything right now, but whenever you feel ready to talk, just seek one of us out, okay?”

Virgil nodded and then looked at the clock once more. “You really should all get some sleep.”

“Stop worrying about us,” Alan scolded, “tonight, we are staying here with you… Anyway, you need one of us here, especially with those nightmares the Hood gave you.”

“They’ve stopped!” Virgil informed him.

“What?” They all said in unison.

“They’ve stopped,” he repeated, “I didn’t want to say anything until I was certain, and I thought it might have been because of the drugs… But since I’ve woken up… Well, I can’t say that I haven’t had any nightmares, because that wouldn’t be true… But, the ones the Hood gave me, I’ve definitely not had those.”

“Do you think it will stay that way?” Jeff questioned.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Virgil, shrugged.

“The Hood did say they would stay until he…” Alan’s voice trailed off.

“Until I died… But I didn’t Al, I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere!” Virgil reassured him.

“But you did stop breathing, maybe that was enough!” John pondered.

“I hope so,” Virgil sighed, sniffing back the tears, “I really don’t want to keep seeing mom die that way.”

Jeff leaned forwards and gripped his sons hand. “None of us want you too, and your mother definitely wouldn’t want you to suffer like that.”

Virgil gripped tighter on his father’s hand. “I know this probably sounds weird… But when I jumped from that building, and I hit the floor… Well, I didn’t think I’d be able to get back up, but then…” Virgil paused, closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly when he felt his emotions beginning to overwhelm him.

“It’s okay Virg,” Scott soothed, “take your time.”

Once Virgil felt ready he continued. “When I was lying there, I remember briefly thinking that was it… But then I could have sworn I heard mums voice… I guess I was imagining it, because of the situation… But, she was telling me to run… So, I did!” I…” Virgil paused once more, as he felt the tears he had been desperately trying to hold back slide down his face. “I really miss her,” Virgil eventually sobbed.

Jeff wiped away his own tears, moved himself onto the edge of the bed, and pulled Virgil carefully into his arms, beckoning his four other boys and mother to join him.

Next. C47.

#thunderbirds fanfiction #cg29fics #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds original series #tagficgone #tag fic #thunderbirds are go fanfiction

[fandomficsnstuff]

A Chance Encounter - 10-Final

(Warnings: Sadness, sad fluff, Aragorn’s coronation which is happy fluff,

For the words in bold, if you want to know 100% what they mean, here’s the website I use, some of the words may have more than one meaning so I suggest picking one that fits best with the entire sentence: https://www.thuum.org/translator.php

Credit for the moodboard goes to @quantumlocked310

Notes: I picked this moodboard because it’s my favorite out of all of them and thought I’d pick my favorite out of all those amazing moodboards as it was the final chapter<3

Dress: https://www.pinterest.dk/pin/4855512090798234/   

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

Ruth smiled softly as she watched Aragorn, standing next to Legolas, her hand interlocked with his as they both watched with pride. Ruth watched with tears in her eyes as Gandalf picked up the crown from the cushion Gimli was holding, turning to face a kneeling Aragorn. As the crown was placed, Ruth felt her heart leap with joy, a wide grin on her lips “now come the days of the King” Gandalf announced, Aragorn standing up and turning to face the crowd that Ruth and Legolas was a part of. As the crowd erupted into cheers, so did Ruth, letting go of Legolas’ hand to clap vigorously, a few tears running down her cheek that she quickly wiped away so she could continue clapping. Ruth quieted down as Aragorn was prepared to speak, her hands covering her mouth, pressed together like she was praying, joy evident on her face as she watched the newly crowned king with the utmost pride, “this day does not belong to one man, but to all. Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace” the crowd, once again, erupted into cheers, and once again, Ruth joined with pride, clapping her hands as she grinned at Aragorn with small tears in her eyes and despite everything, Legolas couldn’t help but look at her. She looked beautiful when she smiled… the way the corners of her eyes crinkled, her lips spreading in a wide grin, her eyes sparkling with joy and happiness, white flower petals slowly falling around her and he knew. There was no one but her. No one would compare. No one would ever come close to matching her. Not her beauty, not her wits, not her skill and none would ever dream of getting as close to his heart that she was.

Legolas couldn’t help but smile a little as he watched her settle down, listening to Aragorn’s soft song with pride and joy, as though merely knowing him made her swell with a sense of pride that was unmatched, pride that he called her friend, and that she was allowed to call him friend as well. It was sweet, adorable even, how she cared for the people she had traveled with, fought alongside with. The people she had shared meals with and conversations, the people she had clanked mugs of ale with and laughed with. Ruth walked alongside Legolas as they both walked to meet Aragorn, a grin still on her lips and she looked as graceful as ever. Her fiery red hair was braided in elvish tradition, her dress was nearly white as snow, sweetheart top that was a light, white-ish purple, fading out into a more white color, a white tree depicted on her dress, her off-shoulder straps leading down to two loose ends that flowed behind her, one on each side. Aragorn turned to Ruth who smiled at him, unable to prevent herself from hugging him tightly, Aragorn chuckling as he hugged her back briefly before Ruth stepped back quickly, clearing her throat and wiping a few tears from her eyes.

“Well, at least that crown doesn’t look terrible on you…” she joked, Aragorn smiling softly at her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder as she grinned at him with a mischievous look in her eyes “otherwise I’d say there’s someone who’d wear it better” she added, gesturing with a soft head movement to behind her, her and Legolas parting as Aragorn frowned softly, slowly approaching the one holding the sigil of the white tree, slowly revealing themselves to be Arwen. Ruth watched their exchange with joy, her hand moving down and gently taking Legolas’ in her own, a smile on her lips as she looked to Legolas, finding him already looking at her. She leaned up and softly kissed him, his hand wrapping around her waist gently, pulling her closer against his chest, even as they both parted for air. Both Ruth and Legolas turned to face Pippin, Merry, Sam and last but not least, Frodo. Ruth was one of the first to follow Aragorn and kneel, her head bowed low. She had faced dragons, giants, mammoths, Falmer, she had faced the undead dragon priests and slayed the World-Eater, she commanded what in total would be an army of different factions put together, yet even she knew she’d never be able to do what they had done.

As the night went on, most people had gone home, while others were laughing and talking at the feast, enjoying themselves, enjoying the company of joyful people. Except Ruth. She stood in the back, watching it all with a small frown, leaning against a pillar. “Not in the mood to celebrate? It’s only like we’ve saved the entire world and are entering an era of complete peace for the first time since the creation of Middle-Earth” Éomer stated casually, Ruth smirking lightly at him as she looked at him, a soft smile on his lips as he watched her. “Who says I’m not celebrating?” she asked teasingly, Éomer smirking at her, gesturing to the others that were clearly happy and joyful “well, they’re smiling, and you’re not” he pointed out, Ruth’s smirk fading as she sighed softly and looked down “nothing gets past you, does it, Lord Éomer?”

“They say I am the quickest man in all of the Rohirrim” he stated half-jokingly, a breathy chuckle leaving Ruth as she nodded softly before looking up at him, a small smile on her lips as she tilted her head at him “that so?”

“I could show you?” he offered softly, his eyes soft as he looked at her with hopeful eyes. Ruth leaned off of the pillar, gently taking Éomer’s hands in her own and she could hear his heart beat faster in his ribcage as he looked down at her, almost pleading with her to do what he hoped she would do. “One day, Lord Éomer, you will find a beautiful woman… she’ll smile at you and your heart will stop, you’ll feel as though she takes your breath away with a mere glance, she will be your entire world and you will be hers, you will make her happy, just as happy as she makes you… you will marry her and live happily with her… but I am not that woman, Éomer…” Ruth stated softly, gently cupping his cheek in her hand, giving him an apologetic smile “I’m sorry…” she added, Éomer nodding softly, looking down briefly before back up at her “your heart belongs to another…” he muttered, Ruth giving him a sad smile before sighing “my heart doesn’t matter… but I am flattered by your interest in me, I truly am. You’re a handsome and a good man, you will find the woman you seek, but she’s not in me…”

“Why not?”

“Because I won’t stay in Middle-Earth, Éomer… I don’t belong here… and as sad as it may make me, I will never belong here… my life is not of this world… and I am too old for you” she added the last bit jokingly, Éomer scoffing lightly as though he didn’t believe her, making her smirk “trust me, a ninety-three yearold wife is not a good look for a young man such as yourself… I don’t want to outlive a man I love…” Ruth admitted the last bit with a sad frown, Éomer nodding with a sad look in his eyes. “Go and drink, be happy, you helped save your world… perhaps the woman I speak of is in this room, waiting for you, watching you talk to me and wishing instead that it was her” Ruth encouraged, Éomer nodding softly, Ruth leaning up and kissing his cheek before letting go of him, Éomer walking away from her and back into the crowd, though his head hung a little lower and it broke Ruth’s heart.

Soon she felt another presence, looking over her shoulder at Gandalf, giving him a soft smile as he looked at her with sad eyes. Ruth looked down with a small frown, her smile gone as she leaned against the pillar again, crossing her arms over her chest as she kept her gaze low. “You don’t have to say it, Gandalf the White… I know…” she muttered, Gandalf sighing, placing a hand on her shoulder that made her look up at him, the frown still present on her face yet he just gave her a comforting smile. “You will always have a place here, you know that…”

“I know… it feels like leaving home forever…” Ruth admitted, Gandalf nodding softly as he let go of her shoulder and turned to watch the crowd, just as she was. “Perhaps it is possible to have more than two homes?” he suggested quietly, Ruth smiling softly at the idea, sighing as she gently shook her head “not for me… with dragons roaming Skyrim, the civil war still on-going… Falmer have begun to take citizens of Markarth and Mara only knows what they’re doing to those poor people, the Forsworn have begun to rally up in larger groups… I can’t give up on all those people who depend on me…” Ruth muttered sadly, Gandalf smiling softly at her “you have an impeccable sense of duty, Ruth Telvanni. You cast aside your own needs for people who barely know you, people you’ve never even met… and you have grown since your first adventure in Middle-Earth all those years ago…”

“I’m not as hot-headed as I was back then” Ruth admitted, Gandalf chuckling quietly, patting her shoulder as he did. “Yes, your temper has dulled a little, but you always had a sense of duty… loyalty… you ventured into Mirkwood because of your loyalty, you helped Bilbo bring the Arkenstone because of your sense of duty-”

“You should have seen Thorin, he was like a mad dog that smelled blood… and I’d know” Ruth muttered, Gandalf giving her a warm smile “all I’m saying is that it is possible to live in two places, visit from time to time…” he muttered quietly, Ruth sighing, gently shaking her head as her eyes landed on Legolas who was seemingly unaware of Ruth and Gandalf’s conversation. “I won’t have him waiting on me, Gandalf…”

“He loves you… Elves only love once in their eternal lives…”

“That’s what worries me…”

“Do you not love him?”

“You know I do… but-... my duty is to Skyrim and her people… it would take me away from him and-... perhaps i-it isn’t actually love and he’ll-... be happy… find a beautiful Ellith who won’t die one day, no matter how many years go by…”

“Are you worried that you will die in a thousand years?” Gandalf asked with amusement, Ruth scoffing quietly, looking down with a sad frown. “If I truly am one he loves so deeply that I’m the one for him… I-... I can’t stand the thought of living happily with him and then one day I’m old and gray and I’ll die… I don’t want to become a burden in my old age… I will age, Gandalf… I already am… I’m growing weary of my beast-blood, I’m beginning to look to the horizon instead of the prey…” Ruth admitted quietly, Gandalf sighing softly as he looked down at the small woman with sympathetic eyes. “I understand what you mean, Ruth, and you have many duties… but you also have a duty to your heart… it seems you forget that quite often-”

“My heart doesn’t help the people of Skyrim… how could I live with myself if I stay here, knowing that each second I live here, people could be burned alive, kidnapped and tortured and robbed on the road where some bandit slits their throat? I love Legolas, I do… elves aren’t the only ones who love once in their lifetime but as happy as I would be with him, I would be miserable. Not because Legolas is not a good man, not because he doesn’t make me happy, he does, but because I’d know that people who need my help would be dying… I can’t live with that… and as much as it would hurt to live without him, I-... I can’t place my heart above an entire continent… it was just a chance encounter... nothing more” Ruth muttered with tears in her eyes, letting out a heavy sigh before gently shaking her head “I need some air” she muttered, making her way outside of the hall to the white tree, unaware that Legolas had been using his elven ears to hear the entire conversation…

Ruth sighed softly as she leaned on the railing, eyes closed as she lifted her head towards the sky, the cold breeze chilling her bones, calming her down and putting a stop to the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind. “Not enjoyin’ the celebrations are ya?” Ruth smiled at the familiar voice, eyes still closed, face still pointed towards the sky as she sighed “I needed air…” she murmured, Gimli nodding softly, “aye, all those elves can get a bit much fer ya” he half-joked, Ruth chuckling quietly “you’re so much like your father, Gimli, son of Gloín… he used to ask me to sing… when we found that lute in Laketown… by the Nine, he wouldn’t stop pleading with me to play it” Ruth admitted with a laugh, opening her eyes and looking down at the dwarf, his cheeks red and at first she thought it was the alcohol the dwarf had without a doubt consumed much of. “Actually, that’s why I wanted ter see ya… my da told me stories of a singing wolf… and now that I know it’s ye…” he trailed off, Ruth’s cheeks turning bright red as she looked away shyly “I-I don’t think it’s a good idea-”

“Aragorn already found a lute-”

“Gimli!”

“Come on! Let’s celebrate! The little hobbits are eager to hear your voice!”

“Molag’s balls… alright fine! You know how to pressure me” Ruth mumbled the last bit jokingly, Gimli laughing briefly as he walked back inside with the woman. Ruth halted when she saw everyone staring at her, eyes wide as she scanned the hall, cheeks once again turning bright red as she slowly walked towards Aragorn who held a beautifully crafted lute, gently handing it to her. “Why is everyone staring?”

“They heard of the singing dragon-”

“What is it with you guys and names?? Talos save me…” she whispered harshly, looking at all the people watching, her eyes landing on Frodo who sat at a nearby table, staring into his mug with a glum expression and Ruth sighed softly, nodding. Gimli eagerly brought a chair towards Ruth and she sat down on it, placing the lute in her lap, her fingers gently pulling at the strings to check the sound, humming quietly along with it as she adjusted them. “So uh-... what should I sing?” Ruth asked nervously as she looked up at Aragorn, the king shrugging lightly as he sat down “what do you sing from home?”

“Many songs… I’m a student at the Bard’s College but-... I-....I-I could sing something I’ve heard much of in taverns and inns?” Ruth asked, Aragorn nodding, Ruth giving a nervous nod in return before looking back down at her lute as she tried to find a song she’d sing. Slowly her fingers began to pull at the strings, the melody filling the quiet hall, Ruth’s eyes turning to Frodo who had given the event some of his attention, Ruth giving him a brief smile that seemed to make him turn from his mug to face her fully.

“Our hero, our hero claims a warrior’s heart…

I tell you, I tell you the Dragonborn comes…

with a Voice wielding power, of the ancient Nord art.

Believe, believe the Dragonborn comes…

It’s an end to the evil of all Skyrim’s foes.

Beware, beware the Dragonborn comes.

For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows…

You’ll know, you’ll know, the Dragonborn’s come…”

Frodo’s eyes softened as he listened to the voice, the quiets hums of the lute as they followed along with her words, the entire hall silent as they listened and when the song ended the hall erupted into cheers and laughter, a laugh leaving Ruth as she grinned and looked down shyly, about to give the lute back to Aragorn when the entire crowd began to fuss and complain, Ruth glaring playfully at them yet with a nod from Aragorn and Gimli she placed the lute back into her lap and positioned her fingers where she wanted them to. “You lot are awful..” she murmured jokingly, looking up at Frodo who seemed to have a small smile on his lips as he continued to watch, the sight spurring Ruth on and she nodded with a sigh. Her fingers slowly began to tug at the strings again, humming quietly along, her eyes even closing at one point, clearly music was something she enjoyed, a secret pleasure of hers that she preferred to keep hidden, until now, when she was willingly plucking the strings of her lute, the entire crowd holding their breath as they watched and listened.

“Alduin’s wings, they did darken the sky. His roar fury’s fire, and his scales sharpened scythes.

Men ran and they cowered, and they fought and they died. They burned and they bled as they issued their cries…

“Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin,

Naal ok zin los vahriin,

Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!

Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan,

Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!”

We need saviors to free us from Alduin’s rage. Heroes on the field of this new war to wage.

And if Alduin wins, man is gone from this world. Lost in the shadow of the black wings unfurled.

But then came the Tongues on that terrible day. Steadfast as winter, they entered the fray.

And all heard the music of Alduin’s doom. The sweet song of Skyrim, sky-shattering Thu’um.

And so the Tongues freed us from Alduin’s rage. Gave the gift of the Voice, ushered in a new Age.

If Alduin is eternal, then eternity’s done. For his story is over and the dragons are gone.”

Her fingers kept plucking at the strings as she hummed along, her eyes closing in joy at the feel of the weight of the lute in her hands, the strings she plucked at.

“And so the Tongues freed us from Alduin’s rage. Gave the gift of the Voice, ushered in a new Age.

And if Alduin is eternal, then eternity’s done… For his story is over and the dragons are gone…”

The crowd erupted into cheers once more and Ruth grinned with blushing cheeks, looking down shyly before looking back up at the crowds, seeing Legolas in the far back, leaning against a pillar, smiling at her. Ruth smiled back, looking down shyly for a brief moment before looking back up at him, the same big grin on her lips until she looked away when Gimli spoke to her, saying something that made her laugh, a sound that was otherwise inaudible over the other people laughing, talking, cheering, but to Legolas, he honed in on that sound, remembering it as best as he could, making sure he would never forget her last night on Middle-Earth, and her beautiful voice that she had allowed them to hear.

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

It was night when Legolas caught up with Ruth, she had said her goodbyes to everyone, everyone but him, and he knew why. It would be painful for both of them, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. The second he learned she had already left, he knew why she hadn’t said anything, and yet he caught up with her, gently taking her hand to make her stop, looking at her with a frown, desperation clear on his face. “Don’t leave” he whispered with tears in his eyes, Ruth sighing softly, gently cupping his face in her hand, her thumb stroking his cheekbone soothingly as she had small tears in her eyes. “I have to-”

“You could stay… give me a reason not to besides your duties” Legolas pleaded, Ruth sighing as she frowned at him. “Alesan, Hroar, Sofie, Blaise, Runa FairShield, Samuel, Francois Beaufort, Aventus Aretino. Those are the kids at the orphanage that I look after from time to time. Inigo, Serana, Lydia, Cicero who will go mad and kill everyone if I’m not there to control him” Ruth added the last bit in a joking tone, frowning once again at Legolas when he didn’t smile “those are the friends I worry most for. Brynjolf, Karliah, Aela, Vilkas, Farkas, those are the people who rely on me to guide them. Jarl Balgruuf, Jarl Korir, Jarl Laila, Jarl Igmund, Jarl Skald, Jarl Idgrod, Jarl Elisif, Jarl Siddgeir, Jarl Ulfric, those are the Jarls that call for me when a dragon threatens their people or a giant is too close to those outside the walls with no protection… Those are my reasons… you have to understand, Legolas, should a dragon attack them, any of them, or any small town, they would be doomed… just like if Frodo hadn’t dropped the ring into the Mountain of Doom… I am the only one who can assure that the dragons stay dead forever, and I am the last to ever be able to do so…” Ruth pleaded, Legolas nodding, slowly and reluctantly letting go of her hand, Ruth nodding softly “thank you…” she whispered, leaning up and kissing him before reluctantly turning away, Legolas watched her until he couldn’t watch her anymore, yet he stayed and after a little while, a dragon rose up in the sky, roaring and soaring towards what was once Mordor, Legolas swallowing thickly as he shut his eyes tightly, running a hand over his face in an attempt to gather himself. He watched the black figure in the dark sky as it flew away, turning into nothing more than a dot yet he still watched it, he watched it until Aragorn arrived, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back inside and out of the cold night air, the sun already peeking over the top of the mountains, a new day breaking.

#Skyrim fic #LOTR fic #A Chance Encounter #final chapter #Skyrim x LOTR crossover #Legolas x OC #Legolas x Ruth Telvanni #Elder Scrolls: V

[slautertm]

truth be told, though she knew she was very, very lucky to have the car that she had, she really hadn't before acknowledged just how lucky she was until tonight. she doesn't know just how fucked up the nerds had gotten off of their pack of beers, but she knew that her car would get them all home with hopefully zero to limited puking incidents in her car- and at least none would be caused by bumpy roads or driving. she's sober, she volenteered to be the driver and to pick everyone up to collect whatever tomorrow. despite her sobriety she's had the best night and the most fun at any social event than she has in every years. she's sad for it to come to an end, and as she drops them each off with a smile, handsfull of little hangover bags (alka-seltzor, advil, a pack of saltines, a ginger ale and gatoraid ) , that she always carries in her trunk - grace, then ruth, then richie, then pete, and now just max sits alone in the car. she has so much she intends to say, but where to start is the question, and a question that lingers building a certain silence, which is why she is thankful max is the one who breaks it.

" after everything, you're still afraid of me? " @crisisbabe, max calls over the moderately loud fleetwood mac blaring through the speakers and steph tenses up a bit in her seat, hands clutching tighter to steering wheel for a second but sighs, opting to turn down the music as she tries to think on what to say.

" ...i've never been scared of you. " saying the words outloud have her pausing, trying to think the words through gives her pause. has she? she clarifies, for the both of them. " i mean maybe i was a little. i don't think i was though. mostly i have been scared for them -" the nerds, the people who weren't considered the 'elite' of hatchetfield high, but there's more. " and for you. " which was complicated. of course they were so very different from who they used to be, but still, she felt like she barely recognized him. she doesn't linger there. " i am... a lot less now. " she tears her eyes away from the road for a minute and gives max a small smile and a shrug before looking back out.

" .... they aren't half bad, don't you think? those three. maybe four... you know how i feel about chasity. " she's trying to talk to him though, really talk to him for the first time in ages.

#i was torn between somehow ghost max but this called to me;; get that redemption arch maxwell #hopefully this is okay and if you would like something else lemme know :) #{ MAX | CRISISBABE } #{ V | darkness will spare my soul } #can't believe i'm going to have to maybe think of another verse oh no... i have thought of so many possibilities and yet. #{ REPLY DROP | SCHEDULED }

[libidomechanica]

Had I signd, and at they did drop

So as I took hym one, and shucks, refusing cup, there’s such ioye; he hurried are betray’d white lesions settled for greme and look for you! And yet perhaps at leans again, or hold, a sort of Ruth, with softe. Shock the bounden; þe apparayl of þe Rounde stylle, among the herde hade ben ded of adder’s graves, the boats. Then, dropped ouer þe loȝe. Wylde wende of þe chere: before than even my breathes the euils both those rank exceed proposed bliss here it means! The Poet the same as stone, I felt and rare gift of your name: weldez neuer to graspest at one thee from tempers to the road is a fitting, idly broken faith is dash’d one that ye may sit, and gif Gawayn hatz gered his whip on the flockes be vnfedde. Never pair of some divinely grace. Pictures natural good; their mayn’t they seem to loke to this, whate’er then market make a Lady of the more þe hende his hous, herbered in al.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #167 texts #sonnet

[tcm]

Doris Day Was Far More Than Virginal By Susan King

Oscar Levant once quipped: “I knew Doris Day before she was a virgin.”

The actor-composer-pianist-writer starred with Day in her first film, ROMANCE ON THE HIGH SEAS (‘48), in which she played a bubbly singer. And it is true that she played 30-something-year-old virgins beginning with PILLOW TALK (‘59), the first film she made with Rock Hudson. But Levant’s comment diminishes the former band singer’s accomplishments as an actress and ignores the fact that her characters were quite modern and progressive. In fact, you could call her an early feminist.

During her “Golden Age,” which I define as between LOVE ME OR LEAVE ME (‘55) and SEND ME NO FLOWERS (‘64), she played successful career women at a time when there weren’t that many being portrayed on screen. In the George Abbott-Stanley Donen cotton candy-colored musical THE PAJAMA GAME (‘57), she’s a worker in a pajama factory, a member of the union leadership who doesn’t take any guff from her bosses. In the delightful romantic comedy TEACHER’S PET (‘58), she’s a successful journalist and college professor; in PILLOW TALK, a flourishing interior decorator; and two years later in LOVER COME BACK (‘61), she goes toe to toe with Hudson as a rival Madison Avenue ad executive. And, in the often-neglected comedy IT HAPPENED TO JANE (‘59), she’s a widowed mother of two who takes on the meaner-than-mean head of a railroad (Ernie Kovacs) when the company causes the death of 300 lobsters she was shipping.

Day’s characters were also incredibly feisty. In PILLOW TALK, the only film for which she received a Best Actress Oscar nomination, she learns that the man she’s fallen for, the shy handsome Texas Rex Stetson, is actually the womanizing composer she shares her party phone line with, so she redesigns his apartment into a gaudy mess reflecting his lothario ways. Speaking of lothario, Day’s leading men often played long-term bachelors-serial daters, like Clark Gable in TEACHER’S PET and Cary Grant in THAT TOUCH OF MINK (‘62). Her characters fall in love with them but won’t become their latest conquests. It’s actually the men who succumb to her charms and give up their womanizing ways when they fall in love with her.

Still, the virgin quote harmed her legacy. “People don’t take her seriously,” said former L.A. Times film critic Kenneth Turan in 2012. “It was a lifetime battle for Marilyn Monroe to be taken seriously; that was a battle she won. Audrey Hepburn was taken seriously. People are reluctant to take Doris Day seriously. It’s too bad.” Cari Beauchamp, a film historian and writer who specializes in the history of women in film, told me in 2012 that when she talks to people about Day “they tend to say she played the girl next door. And you look at her movies, particularly at the time of those films and she wasn’t the girl next door. She always had a backbone.”

Day was a popular singer with Les Brown and His Band of Renown, scoring her first No. 1 in 1945 with “Sentimental Journey.” Hollywood soon came knocking on her door, and she answered in the Warner Bros.’ Technicolor musical ROMANCE ON THE HIGH SEAS, directed by Michael Curtiz, in which she introduced the Best Song Oscar nominee “It’s Magic.” Not only was she adorable and a breath of fresh air, Day seemed totally at ease in her big screen bow.

“I wanted to be in films,” she told me in 2012. “I wasn’t nervous. I just felt ‘I’m here. I am supposed to be doing this.’ I was so lucky to have such terrific actors and directors. Everything was different and everything to me was great.”

Her films at Warner Brothers were a mixed bag. She got to demonstrate her dramatic chops reuniting with Curtiz for YOUNG MAN WITH A HORN (‘50), starring Lauren Bacall and Kirk Douglas. And I also loved the Booth Tarkington-inspired musical comedies ON MOONLIGHT BAY (‘51) and BY THE LIGHT OF THE SILVERY MOON (‘53). Turan loves her musical-comedy CALAMITY JANE (‘53), in which she has a field day as the famed Wild West heroine, because “her energy is kind of irrepressible.” Day also introduced the Oscar-winning song, “Secret Love” in the freewheeling classic.

But she really came into her own when she went to MGM to do the musical drama LOVE ME OR LEAVE ME, in which she gave a tour de force performance as torch singer Ruth Etting, who has a particularly volatile marriage to a gangster (James Cagney). But she was totally ignored by the Academy and the Golden Globes. The film was nominated for six Oscars, winning for Best Motion Picture Story, with only Cagney, brilliant as Marty “the Gimp” Snyder, getting nominated for his performance.

Turan described LOVE ME OR LEAVE ME as a “provocative film. It almost defines a kind of thing that you would say: Doris Day would never do something like that. But when we say that we are thinking of the cliché Doris Day, not thinking of the actual actress who made interesting choices and interesting films.” Day also counted the hit, directed by Charles Vidor, as a career highlight. “I really loved working with Jim,” she said of Cagney, who had previously appeared with her in the disappointing THE WEST POINT STORY (‘50). “The wonderful thing is that when you have someone like him to play opposite, it’s very exciting. You just feel so much from a man like that.”

She didn’t do research into Etting’s life but went by the script and “just how I felt and what I listened to. You react. It was so well-written. It just comes out of you. I don’t know how to explain it.” But it probably wasn’t hard. Like Etting, who endured abuse at the hands of her husband, the four-time married Day was mercilessly beaten by her one husband, musician Al Jordan, the father of her only child, Terry Melcher.

Mastering drama and musicals, Day was also a fabulous comedian. Just look at her expression when Gable, as a seasoned newspaper editor, kisses her for the first time in TEACHER’S PET. She crosses her eyes and is literally weak in the knees. Or when she realizes in THAT TOUCH OF MINK that Grant wants her to share his bed when they go to a resort. It’s brilliant. And of course, she and Hudson had a chemistry few actors get to share on screen. Ironically, Day admitted she didn’t know who Hudson was when they were cast together in PILLOW TALK, even though he had been a major star for most of that decade and earned an Oscar nomination for GIANT (‘56). “Isn’t that amazing?,” she said laughing. “I thought he was just starting out. I didn’t know about the films he had made. I just loved working with him. We laughed and laughed.”

The quality of her films declined after SEND ME NO FLOWERS. Her third husband and manager, Marty Melcher, put her in poorly received comedies such as DO NOT DISTURB (‘65) and CAPRICE (‘67). He squandered her money and signed her up to do the CBS sitcom The Doris Day Show without her knowledge before his death in 1968. The series ran from 1968 to 1973.

After the series, Day went to Carmel, co-owned a pet friendly hotel there and concentrated on animal welfare. In 1985-86, she did the pet-forward TV talk show Doris Day and Friends, best remembered for guest Rock Hudson, who was suffering from AIDS. She admitted Hollywood never lured her out of retirement. “No one really said that – ‘Oh, come back.’ I was just here.’”

#Doris Day #feminism #female sexuality #musicals #comedy #James Cagney #Rock Hudson #TCM #Turner Classic Movies #Susan King

[riversofmars]

Back to Halifax fam! Part three of four. Here comes the angst and a little bit of smut. Enjoy! Rated M (language and sex)

Home Is Not A Place - Part 3: The Mistake

“Caroline…“ Gillian whimpered, her voice far more shaky than Caroline would have expected.

“Yes?“ Caroline hummed against the soft skin at the base of her neck, delighting in the breathless moans and gasps her kisses drew out of her.

“Don’t stop…“ Gillian practically begged, as she arched her body against her.

“How could I…can’t keep my hands off you,“ Caroline growled, tracing lines down her body, to the waistband of her pants.

Gillian bucked her hips to meet her.

Caroline awoke with a start, disoriented, sweaty and frustratingly aroused. As her room slowly came into focus, she realised she had been dreaming. The body pressed to her belonged to her dog Ruth and she rolled away from her.

“For fuck’s sake, Caroline, get your shit together,“ she groaned to herself as she rubbed her face and threw her covers off. She was feeling far too hot, despite the bitter cold outside that the poorly glassed windows barely kept at bay.

Bloody Gillian Greenwood. Caroline stared up at the ceiling, trying to banish the image of Gillian from her mind. Gillian, stripped to her underwear, panting, holding her close… Caroline rubbed her face more firmly, just short of slapping herself. It wasn’t really Gillian’s fault, was it, that she was lying here thinking of her. The sheep farmer was completely oblivious to it, or so Caroline hoped. Gillian would hardly have got soaked in the rain on purpose, just to have an excuse to strip in the lounge, could she? That would imply that she knew of Caroline’s attraction for her. That was highly unlikely, as Caroline had always been careful not to let on too much. It would also imply that she wanted to encourage her for reasons of her own; and there could be no plausible explanation for that.

No, Caroline would have to accept that this was a very one-sided attraction and she would simply have to wait for it to pass.

And yet… Gillian had admitted to having been with a woman before. Why would she do that if not to drop a hint? Caroline implored herself to stop thinking about it. She couldn’t risk how well things were going, it would be ruinous and downright stupid.

No, Caroline would wait for this crush to pass and that was that. But how was she to do that with Gillian right there? Her witty snark, her heart-warming smile, and her great arse? Through no fault of her own, Caroline’s mind conjured up the image of Gillian bending over to rummage through the pile of washing… Caroline pressed her thighs together, her body tense with arousal from the dream she had just woken from.

Was it disrespectful of her to think about Gillian like this? It was becoming clear that she couldn’t stop her thoughts going there. Perhaps, playing it out in her mind would help her get over it, she mused. It would never happen anyway so what was the harm in it? Caroline’s mind was screaming with ludicrous justifications as to why it wasn’t bad to imagine shagging her step sister. The most convincing argument was - of course - that this was the privacy of her own mind. Gillian would never know, and Caroline knew she wouldn’t be able to go to sleep any time soon unless she did something about the state she was in.

Fuck it, she decided, and pushed her hand between her legs. She groaned, frustrated with herself over how wet she was. There was nothing for it, she pushed away her self-consciousness and instead imagined what the sheep farmer could be doing with that talkative mouth of hers. Perhaps she’d be quite eager to please her. She remembered the way she had looked at her during their “thank you“ dinner the other night, reminiscent of a puppy dog looking for praise… A nice way of saying “thank you“ would be on her knees between Caroline’s legs… Caroline bit back a moan as she imagined Gillian’s nails digging into her thighs.

Or maybe, given how headstrong Gillian was, she wouldn’t be submissive at all. Maybe she could have fucked Caroline on that very kitchen table, or the kitchen side, or the sofa, or the bloody wall, any wall, pushing her up against it and Caroline would only be wearing a skirt and…

“Fuck…Gillian…“ Caroline gasped as her fingers did the work she so badly wanted Gillian to do. She wished she could find out what it would be like, really like, to be with Gillian. It was a privilege far too many men had had for Caroline’s taste and she couldn’t believe the injustice of it. She knew she was worth a thousand Robbies, Pauls or Johns. She would not treat her the way they had, she would look after her, care for her, love her…

“You’ve got issues, Caroline, honestly…“ Caroline breathed into the darkness and wiped the sweat off her face.

——

“There you are.“

Gillian looked around when she heard Caroline’s voice. Her face brightened immediately.

“Storm’s cleared,“ she smiled and waved for Caroline to come and sit with her. She was perching on the wall outside the house, looking out onto the fields beyond. The sun was just coming up, it would be a clear day, apart from the fog that was coming up from the damp ground after yesterday’s storm. It was Sunday morning and everywhere around them was quiet still.

“I’m never gonna get used to this view,“ Caroline commented as she came to sit next to Gillian. She hugged her warm mug and pulled her coat tighter around her. It was very chilly, but Gillian didn’t seem to notice. She was drinking her own tea and smiled, looking out into the valley herself.

“Be a shame if you did,“ she chuckled into her drink.

“Is it bad that I’m dreading everyone coming home this afternoon?“ Caroline asked, after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Nah… I’ve been enjoying the peace and quiet too,“ Gillian admitted with a smirk. “Let’s enjoy it while it lasts…“

“We’ll have weekends like this more frequently once Ellie and Raff move out properly…“ Caroline mused and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She wanted to spend as much time alone with Gillian as she possibly could, but she was worried it would only make ignoring her feelings harder. Particularly when Gillian looked as peaceful and content as she did right now.

“Hm,“ Gillian hummed thoughtfully and Caroline frowned.

“What?“

“I just… I was just thinking, after all this… shit. Eddie and John. My numerous misadventures, Robbie! God, Robbie… and you losing Kate, that… after all this, we do deserve something nice, don’t we,“ Gillian didn’t look at her at first, she looked out into the valley, a soft smile playing on her lips that the morning sun lit beautifully.

“If there is any justice in the universe…“ Caroline mumbled, struck by how beautiful she looked in that moment. So utterly at peace and it defied her understanding that she played a part in that.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as settled and… happy… as this…“ Gillian confessed and looked at Caroline with a smile that made the headteacher’s heart nearly jump out of her chest.

“Me neither…“ Caroline admitted and it was true. Not even when she had been happy with John or in the short but lovely time she had had with Kate, had she felt so complete and content. It was that realisation that made her throw caution to the wind. Surely, Gillian wouldn’t be saying these things if there was no deeper meaning behind it all. Maybe she had been dropping hints on purpose all along… Caroline stopped thinking, she just leaned forward and kissed her.

For one beautiful moment, Caroline’s world shrunk to the feeling of Gillian’s soft lips against hers. It felt liberating and right and even better than she had imagined. At least until Gillian pushed her away.

“Caz! What are you…“ The sheep farmer exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. It was like a sobering slap in the face, only, a slap would have probably hurt less.

“I uh- I’m, oh my God, I’m so sorry, Gillian, I just… I got caught up in the moment and…“ Caroline stammered, disoriented, she struggled to grasp what was going on and she cursed herself for her lack of restraint. She had spent all of last night telling herself how she would never ever act on these feelings and here she was, ruining everything! She stared at Gillian who was at a loss for words herself, she had blushed deeply, tensed up, and wild panic was painted all over her face.

“I uh- I’m gonna just… sorry.“ She jumped off the wall and fled, rushing off to God knows where, around the corner of the barn. It took Caroline a good minute until she recovered from her shock and when she did, her emotions broke out of her. She chucked her mug across the yard and broke it on the barn door. That bloody barn. She imagined Eddie watching, laughing at her.

“Fuck,“ she groaned and buried her face in her hands. She took a deep breath. “Well done Caroline, really fucking well done, you just had to go and ruin everything, didn’t you…“ She looked out into her valley, her vision blurring with tears. She was not prepared to give up this new found happiness. She would have to find a way of making things right with Gillian. How could she have made such a crude lapse in judgement? Slowly, she slid down the wall and started gathering the broken china of the mug.

——

“You alright mum?“ Raff asked, eyeing his mother across the dinner table. The rest of the family had returned in the afternoon as predicted. First Raff and Ellie with the kids, then Greg had brought round Flora. Now, the kids had gone to bed and the grown-ups were having their tea and discussing how the house hunting was going. At least that’s what Raff and Ellie were trying to do but neither Gillian nor Caroline seemed to really be listening.

“Hm? What?“ Gillian looked up from her plate, confused.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,“ Raff observed, exchanging a glance with his wife,who gave him a shrug.

“Maybe I was just thinking how I’m missing the f-bloody peace and quiet from before you all piled back in 'ere,“ Gillian snarked, far harsher than she probably meant to. Fortunately, they were all used to Gillian’s moods by now so Raff just turned to Caroline:

“Caroline, what’s wrong with me mum?“ He asked, as if she wasn’t even there, in response to which Gillian just chucked her cutlery onto her plate like a stroppy teenager.

“What’s wrong with her? Nothing’s wrong with her. Maybe she’d be better if you weren’t pestering her,“ Caroline’s response was snarky as well, she wanted to be left alone to her own thoughts, as she presumed Gillian did. They hadn’t spoken for most of the day and sitting next to each other at dinner now was harder than she would have imagined.

“Not you too,“ Raff groaned.

“You had a fight or summat?“ Ellie asked, looking between the two women.

“What would we possibly fight about?“ Caroline shot back, twirling her pasta around her fork.

“Would you like a list?" Ellie chuckled and Caroline shot her a look that would have shut up anyone.

“Everything’s perfectly fine, eat your tea,“ the headteacher instructed and Raff was quick to appease:

“It’s lovely, this, Caroline.“

“Thanks love.“ She managed a thin smile as they all returned their attention to their plates.

“I’m not feeling too good, I’m gonna get an early night,“ Gillian announced and got to her feet abruptly. “Can you check in on sheep later, Raff?“

“Sure.“ He nodded quickly and the sheep farmer practically fled the table. There was a moment of tense silence with only Gillian’s footsteps, rushing up the stairs to her bedroom.

“You not gonna go after her?“ Ellie asked once they heard a door slam upstairs.

“Why would I?“ Caroline asked, bewildered at the very suggestion.

“If something’s happened, you’re better off clearing it up sooner rather than later,“ Raff agreed with his wife.

“She doesn’t want me talking to her,“ Caroline huffed, moving her pasta around the plate that she - despite going through some pain to make it - didn’t fancy at all.

“So something did happen!“ Raff exclaimed as if her statement was proof to that effect. “What’s she done? Did one of sheep get into the house again?“

“Nothing happened!“ Caroline shook her head. She wanted to laugh at how he naturally presumed it had been Gillian that was at fault. Nothing could be further from the truth but she couldn’t tell them what had happened. It would only make things worse. The best course of action would be to ignore it had ever happened. “Just give her some space,“ she advised, which was exactly what she planned on doing herself. With any luck, things wouldn’t be as tense tomorrow and they could forget about the whole thing.

——

Caroline was engrossed in a book when Gillian reappeared. Raff and Ellie were watching telly, while Caroline had retreated to the other sofa. For a moment, Gillian lingered at the top of the stairs, probably wondering if she dared be among them again, but as it turned out she had no intention of that anyway. She crossed the living room without a word and headed for the front door.

“Thought she said she were getting an early night…“ Ellie commented when the front door slammed shut.

“Caroline…“ Raff looked over to the headteacher. “If you won’t tell us what happened, can you at least…“ His voice was almost pleading and Caroline couldn’t refuse, not when she knew this was her fault. Perhaps talking it through would help…

“Alright…“ She closed her book, threw the blanket aside and got to her feet.

Caroline wrapped herself up warm and stepped out of the farm house. The night was clear as the day had been and yet, she couldn’t see Gillian anywhere, she seemed to have made good use of her head start. She pulled her coat tighter around herself and made her way down the path. The Landrover was still there so she couldn’t have gone far.

That’s when she heard her, her muffled voice and she spotted the flickering light of a torch in the barn. Reluctantly, self-consciously, Caroline stepped closer.

“I bet you’re fucking loving this, aren’t you.“ It was definitely Gillian’s voice, louder and more pronounced now and Caroline stopped by the door of the barn. It wasn’t entirely shut but it wasn’t open and inviting either. “I could be so happy if it wasn’t for everything you’ve done to me.“ Gillian’s voice was distraught, worked up and angry. Caroline knew who she was talking to. Part of Gillian still believed that Eddie was still, somehow, present in that barn where he had died. And it seemed like she was shouting at him now. “I could be whole and together and worth a bloody damn. You satisfied?“ She was yelling from inside and Caroline couldn’t bring herself to walk in. She didn’t want to intrude, it wouldn’t be fair. She really ought to head back inside, allow Gillian this moment of privacy to work through her feelings. “Even after all this time, I still can’t f-bloody get anything right!“ Her words didn’t quite make sense to Caroline, but she got the gist. “I deserve to be happy, I do! Even after what I did, I deserve to move on. You put me through hell and I came out the other side and I deserve something good to happen and I thought it had and now it’s all fucked up again!“ Caroline’s heart sank when Gillian’s voice broke with sobs. “So congrats, you’ve fucking done it again.“

Caroline didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go in, it was too much, too personal. She felt guilty for even listening in, but the sound of Gillian crying broke her heart. She realised she had messed up big. Gillian had been happy and she had forced her out of her comfort zone to where she didn’t want to go. Of course she would blame Eddie for it, like she did with most things in her life when they went wrong. Like she had blamed the accidents that had happened to Robbie on him too… Caroline knew it was her fault this time though, Eddie was well and truly gone. The only hold he had in this world was the one he still had on Gillian and Caroline cursed him for it. She wished she could just be free of him. She wanted nothing more than for Gillian to be happy, she knew she had to find a way to make things right with her. Ignoring each other as they had done for the most part of the day, just wasn’t an option. She wanted to be content and happy like they had been the past month, she had to find a way of restoring that balance and reassure Gillian she had no expectations of her. She stepped away from the barn, heading back to the house, but it was too late.

“What’re you doing out 'ere?“ Gillian exclaimed and Caroline looked around.

“Just uh… Raff asked me to come look after you…“ she answered slowly, shifting uncomfortably. She should have left sooner.

“Raff can fuck off,“ Gillian huffed, locking the barn door behind her.

“He’s concerned about you, I am too…“ Caroline said slowly as she realised they were heading into a stand off. Gillian kept her distance, crossing her arms as well and staring her down with an uneasy air about her.

“Were you listening?“ Gillian’s voice swung between accusatory, distressed and insecure.

“No, I…“ Caroline broke off because the lie would be so incredibly hard to maintain. How was she supposed to pretend she didn’t know how distressed she was?

“Cause it’s none of your f-flipping business,“ Gillian snapped in an angry outburst that made Caroline flinch and feel all the more guilty.

“I know that…“ she said softly. “I just… are you okay?“ The bright moonlight illuminated the sheep farmer’s face just enough to reveal her damp cheeks and puffy eyes. Gillian must have noticed her staring because the response was quick and harsh:

“Do I fucking look okay to you?“

“No, that’s why…“ Caroline winced, struggling for the right thing to say. It was a minefield, one that she had set up for herself. No matter which way she turned, compassion, remorse, admitting to listening, pretending she didn’t know why she was upset, apologising for a mistake or admitting to the depth of her emotions and motivations… with Gillian every course of action could blow up in her face and make things even worse than they already were.

“Leave me alone, Caroline.“ Gillian seemed to think it best not to give her an opportunity at all. She strutted past her, back towards the farm house.

“Gillian…“ Caroline couldn’t let her go, she had to try something, anything, so she reached out, grabbed her arm to hold her back. Gillian’s reaction was more violent than she could have anticipated.

“Get your hands off me!“ The sheep farmer yelled and ripped her arm away, cradling it against her like she had been burnt, she stared at Caroline with a turmoil of emotions in her expressive eyes. Caroline’s heart sank, she crossed her arms again.

“I’m not gonna do anything, I got the message loud and clear…“ Caroline mumbled, self-consciously.

“Yeah, well- You better not,“ Gillian’s sharp reply drove the matter home and Caroline didn’t look up, not until the sheep farmer had disappeared inside the farm house.

The headteacher turned away and looked out into the valley. She felt numb.

#Last tango in halifax #caroline mckenzie dawson #gillian greenwood #caroline x gillian #gillian/caroline #femslash #angst #rated M #mutual pining #slow burn

[doctors-star]

Can you stay still for the next 20 min? (If this was meant as a prompt ask 😅)

“Okay - have you got it?”

“Yeah, you can - shift it to the left a bit, yeah - is that right your end?”

“Looks good to me.” Peter leans back very carefully, eyeballing along the length of the beam with half of his face scrunched up in a squint. Alex resists the urge to fidget the cold, heavy wood between his hands; there is a strong likelihood that, in seeking a better grip on the slippery, paper-like bark of the skinny silver birch trunk they are using as a rafter, he will in fact fumble with numb fingers and drop it through their half-built structure. Peter straightens up and grins at him. “Right. Now, you just hold that there, perfectly still, while I drill and fix this end - shouldn’t take too long, anywhere between-” he tilts his hands mock-thoughtfully, “-two minutes and three days. All right?”

Alex sends him a withering look, somewhat weakened by the smile he is valiantly attempting to fight from his face. “You may have twenty minutes, maximum,” he says sternly.

“Why twenty?” Peter asks, casting about him for the auger they’re using to bore holes in the rafters and peg them together. “And - I mean you no offence, mate, but you keep shifting the beam - can you stay still for the next twenty minutes?”

Peter starts to descend his ladder to hunt down the drill and Alex takes pity. “You tucked it in your belt.”

“Ah! And you told me it was a bad idea,” Peter acknowledges with the point of a finger, scrambling back up and fidgeting the large, curling length of very sharp iron out from the small of his back.

Alex tilts his head slightly. “I meant because you might fall on it and die, but yes, fine, also because you have no object permanence and would lose it.”

Peter snorts and aligns the auger carefully over the crossed beams, perpendicular to their length, before beginning to twist the handles that form the T-shape of the drill. They’re down to their loose white shirts, despite the biting cold, what with the hauling and lifting and boring and pegging. Alex can see the muscles across Peter’s shoulders shift and pull under the thin linen.

“Anyway,” he says, dragging his eyes away and fixing them on the birch between his palms. The wood is scarred and knotted by the vagaries of Welsh weather but straight and sturdy; the bark is peeling in tight coils of ghostly parchment. It judders in his hands with every wrench of the auger, so he focusses on simply holding it still. “You can only have twenty minutes, because lunch is at one and that’s in about twenty minutes - whereupon I will abandon this whole project, because I’m hungry.”

Peter huffs a laugh, silver in the winter air. “Oh, right,” he says, as though this is quite reasonable, “I understand. Twenty minutes it is, then - although you’ll have to count it out in your head, what with us being Stuart farmers in rural Wales and therefore not having access to such newfangled things as watches.”

Peter looks at him out of the corner of his eye, biting his lip. Alex assumes a suitably innocent expression in the face of this challenge. “Mm,” he agrees.

“After all, I assume that’s how you know it’s twenty to one - you’ve been counting the minutes since dawn.”

“Oh, no, I can read the time in the sky.” Peter looks sceptically at the thick duvet of cloud overhead - the light has remained the same weak greyness since the sun technically rose, though they’ve not seen it. Alex shuffles the log into one hand, moving his foot up one ladder rung to support its weight on his thigh, and fumbles the other hand in the small leather pouch attached to his belt. He lifts the modern stainless steel watch up to the sky and makes a show of squinting at it against the clouds, and then puts it away. “Twelve forty-five,” he says decisively, slowly creasing into a smile when Peter abandons the auger to put his face in his hands and laugh.

“The director’ll have your head for that,” Peter points out, amused, as he goes back to the drill with a fond shake of his head.

Alex shrugs. He can, it turns out, do without most modern conveniences: he’s become used to candlelight and going to bed early, he likes the food, he honestly hasn’t thought about television for about three months. They’re allowed enough bits of their old lives to keep them all healthy and sane, like toothpaste and regular phone calls to friends and family, but other than that they’ve been keeping to the period fairly religiously and Alex wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s just - it turns out that, like how an explorer might like to keep a compass on them to know which way is north, Alex likes to know what time it is. Not for any particularly rational reason. There’s just a sort of comfort in knowing where he stands, temporally.

“Should have got you a pocket sundial for Christmas,” Peter says wryly, jimmying the auger back out of the wood with effort.

“A sundial? In Wales?” Alex objects mildly. “Peter, be serious.”

“Hah. Well, Stuart Welshmen managed somehow,” Peter points out, trotting swiftly down the ladder and fishing about in a basket for a peg long enough to pin the beam to the apex.

Before Alex can respond, there is a call from the farmhouse, and Ruth is waving at them as she picks her way through the frosted garden towards them. “Hello, boys - oh, this is going up well.”

Peter smiles shyly at her and pats the nearest upright of the latrine. “It’s good, yeah,” he says, turning the peg in his fingers with the other hand. It’s terribly sweet, this nervous adoration Ruth seems to inspire in him when she catches Peter off-guard. Sweet, and slightly embarrassing on Peter’s behalf, and very slightly inspiring of jealousy, as though Alex were five years old and sulky over Ruth stealing his best friend. He doesn’t like to examine that much.

“Slightly roofless,” Alex points out.

Ruth smiles, tilting her head back to look up the ladder at him, and the niggling, uncomfortable envy fades somewhat. “It’s al fresco,” she corrects cheerfully, and he grins. “It’s got walls, anyway, and this looks like your last roof beam, so it’s only slightly roofless.”

“You won’t say that when it rains,” Alex foretells, and she laughs.

“All right. I came out to tell you lunch will be in a minute, so if it’s at a point where you can leave it-”

“I’m letting go of this beam,” Alex tells Peter firmly. “I’m doing it.”

“You said twenty minutes,” Peter corrects, scrambling up the ladder.

“I said until lunch,” he says, steadying the beam carefully so that Peter can jam the peg in and shove at it with the heel of his palm. “It is now lunch, and I am no longer holding this beam for you.”

“Two minutes,” Peter pleads, shoving at the peg and then looking around him, patting his belt and where pockets might be on jeans but definitely are not on breeches. “Where’s the - thank you, Ruth.”

Ruth’s eyes slide sideways to Alex in amusement as she passes Peter a sturdy wooden mallet. She’s always pleasingly entertained by their antics, even if Alex and Peter are being more than slightly unhelpful, and it absolutely encourages them to further bouts of silliness. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” she says warmly, folding her arms and looking delighted around the edges of a stern expression. Alex basks in her indulgence.

“Alex wouldn’t really abandon me for lunch,” Peter says, deliberately overwrought and self-pitying, as he secures the peg. “He wouldn’t destroy all our hard work just to eat, not after the hours we spent working on it - and the years we’ve been friends, and all the nice things I’ve done for him.” Ruth laughs and Peter, beam now secured, leans on it slightly to look plaintively in Alex’s direction. “You wouldn’t leave me just for food, would you?” he says, with his best puppyish eyes.

Alex looks back at him. He’s given up a lot to be here with Peter for this year - they’ve not been out of uni that long, all things considered, and are definitely in that stage of academia in which a person is supposed to work extremely hard and get all the funding available to become very specialised and useful - essentially, they are not supposed to be going on a year’s sabbatical to wrestle pigs and plough fields and become bizarrely knowledgeable about early seventeenth century agriculture, which is something neither of them are aiming to specialise in at all. He has no idea if this is a good career move, or a sure-fire way to never be taken seriously again. On top of that, he’s given up on all the comforts and joys of modern life, and on seeing his friends and family particularly often, and on starting or maintaining relationships with anyone other than Peter and Ruth and the rest of the cast and crew. He had been worried, when he and Peter had been discussing whether or not to go for this opportunity, that he would be constantly miserably cold and lonely - but Peter had promised him good company and all of Peter’s spare layers and blankets, and had reminded him of all of the things they would get the opportunity to do and try, and all the experiences they could have out in the valley that they might never have again. And Alex had allowed himself to be convinced, and had followed Peter onto the farm and into Stuart life. He is yet to have cause to regret it; he has loved it, and Peter and Ruth and all his new friends, to excesses.

He fixes Peter with an unimpressed look. “I would leave you in the mud for an unripe tomato.”

#thank you for prompt! apologies for the delay! #bbc historical farm #based on green valley events which i can only half remember so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #this is your captain speaking

[el-im]

Yes that's exactly it that's exactly what this show is! There's so much behind the scenes that we don't know and slowly learn, and we have to build the character's history! And you don't even know how it ends! You don't even know! Oh, my, you have such to look forward to! You haven't even seen Lee Harvey Oswald or Killin' Time, one episode that whumps Sam so hard and another that whumps Al! You haven't even seen the trilogy, or Dr. Ruth (and boy does she help Al) or when he leaps into [redacted] again!

I shall keep that in mind in the future, so as to avoid further spoilers!

oh pft, well thank you for the consideration but i hope you don't feel compelled to censor anything on my behalf!! hearing all of these have been such a pleasure! there's just... so much diversity/richness in all the theories!! so much to be extracted from the bare bones we're given! it's so neat to see someone else putting a similar amt of thought into it!

(and seriously!!! i was emailing an old coordinator for a school program i used to be in about my watching it/dean stockwell and he talked so reverently about the last episode and his performance as al in it... though sparing me the finer points, he did say that it's an embodiment of a character that's stuck with him since it premiered, which i think is... a particularly high compliment. i'm wary, and worried, for sure, but it, at least for the time being (pun half-intended) it seems so endless, like there's a million ways it could go and who's to say where/how/when it will end, or if it will!)

i must say i'm also just.... so impressed by all the different directions that people have taken tina/gooshie/beeks in because we see so little of them (whereas, at least where i am, we seem to at get a glimpse into donna's early life/her separation from sam which is terribly interesting) and yet... they manage to be incredibly compelling characters even in the short amount of time they're afforded. it's astounding to see what people manage to scrounge up for characters that only appear a handful of times! (i think about how gigi rice played tina's voice up constantly, the adoration she had for sam and how happy/excitedly she exclaimed 'you even hug like al!'. i mean! what joy! what life!! so easily displayed!)

#the amount of work the writers put into really making their minor characters seem real and lively is just. unbelievable to me #i think it comes across especially strong in season one #like... peggy stratton?! i couldnt BELIEVE after sam leaped that we just. wouldnt see her again #she was so loveable and so... well established. kid's got solid ground underfoot!! #asks

[specterchasing-a]

Hold On (Part One) || Eddie & Alfie

TIMING: One month ago.

LOCATION: Alfie’s apartment.

PARTIES: @yikesimonfire & @specterchasing​​

SUMMARY: Eddie wants Alfie to accompany him on a little adventure. A lot of things go unsaid, but that’s probably for the best.

CONTENT: Internalized homophobia

Eddie carefully straddled the knee-high barrier that divided the apartment balconies. With a quiet grunt, he raised his leg and landed safely on Alfie’s property. He never locked the sliding door and Eddie didn’t have the patience to wait for him in the hallway. In all likelihood, the door would be shut in his face if Alfie had the option to block him out. Eddie didn’t appreciate being rejected, so things were better this way.

“Alfie?” Eddie announced himself curiously as he opened the balcony door. “I need your help with something.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice from his living room broke Alfie’s concentration, pulling him away from the string of code he was helplessly scratching his head over. One of these days he’d learn to lock the balcony door — at least while he worked. “‘Course you do,” Alfie mumbled to himself as he ran a hand down the length of his face. 

“I’m in here,” he called out, pushing his chair away from the desk until he latched onto the doorknob. With a faint click, Alfie swung the office door open and rolled back to his desk. “This important?”

As soon as Eddie heard Alfie’s voice, he made a beeline for the office. He stood at the door, grinning from ear to ear, and offered a small wave. “All work and no play makes Alfie a dull boy. You’re aware of that, right?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe. He liked his neighbor, quite a bit actually, but he wished Alfie was a little more social. Getting him to commit to a conversation for more than a few sentences felt like pulling teeth. More often than not, Alfie regarded him with enthusiasm of someone having their teeth pulled, too. Eddie was used to it.

“It’s monumentally important, actually,” Eddie answered with a nod. “I have plans tonight, filming plans, and I want you to come with me.” He raised his brow provocatively. “I know you’re gonna say no or fabricate some brand-new illness that you don’t have, but c’mon, it could be really fun, don’t you think? We never hang out.”

Alfie’s gaze shifted from the computer screen to the doorway where Eddie stood. He wished he could wipe the smug smile from the other man’s face that came along with that ridiculous proverb. Another part of him wished Eddie’s smile wasn’t contagious. “I’ll have you know, I did not make up conjunctivitis,” retorted Alfie with the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He wouldn’t comment on any of his other recent ‘diagnoses’. 

“What kind of filming plans, exactly?” he asked, his fingers locked behind his head as he swiveled to face Eddie, giving him his undivided attention. It was still a long shot that Alfie would bite, but he’d entertain the idea before crushing Eddie’s hopes and dreams. 

“You sure? Sounds pretty fake to me,” Eddie said with a smirk. He knew conjunctivitis was real, but that didn’t stop him from playing dumb in the hopes that it might elicit a reaction from Alfie. He liked getting under his skin almost as much as he liked making him laugh. He wished he had more chances to do both.

“I need to go to the woods again. You know the couple that went missing recently? I saw on the news that their bodies were found somewhere near Dark Score Lake, but here’s the kicker; all that was left of them were their bones. They went missing last fuckin’ week and that’s all that’s left. Vines had already taken over the remains.”

“I have a theory about what’s behind it, but I wanna know for certain. More importantly, I want evidence.” Eddie’s gaze remained on Alfie. Barely concealed hope shone in his eyes. “So, yeah, company would be appreciated.”

“So let me get this straight…” Alfie’s brow was raised skeptically as he carefully reiterated Eddie’s proposal. “You want to go to the woods where people died… all to prove your little theory on video, and you want me to do what exactly? Be your bodyguard?” A small laugh swelled within his chest. “You’re joking, right?”

Shaking his head, Alfie turned back to his desktop. “Some bodyguard I’d be — more of a meat shield than anything else.” He knew full well that Eddie wouldn’t be that easy to turn down. He’d most likely hang around, maybe even get on his hands and knees to beg Alfie to go with him. “‘Sides, I haven’t even checked the weather. You know how my joints get when it rains. I’d only slow you down and before you know it, a week’s gone by and they’re reporting our bones on the news.”

Eddie’s mood deflated somewhat when Alfie outright laughed at his proposal. He understood but, just once, he thought it might be nice to have someone accompany him without needing to be begged. “Not a bodyguard—a friend,” he corrected him with a more mild smile than before. “Friends, y’know, do things together sometimes. Sounds zany, I know, but I hear it helps make them into even better friends.”

“I already checked the weather,” Eddie said, not that it would’ve taken Alfie more than 10 seconds to do it himself. He loved his excuses, even the fragile ones. “There shouldn’t be any rain tonight, just some wind. I wouldn’t invite you if there was even a 10% chance it would storm.” Eddie raised his chin slightly, an expectant look on his face. “You should come with me, Alfie. You’re due for a little fun.”

Much to his chagrin, Alfie hadn’t been successful at turning Eddie down. It was nothing new; he was notorious for avoiding things by the skin of his teeth. But there was something in the tone of Eddie’s voice that made Alfie’s heart sink. His eyes flickered back to Eddie whose face was drained of enthusiasm. “A friend,” Alfie parroted. It really wasn’t fair that Eddie could worm his way into his heart like this, but he had a suspicion that this feeling was not exclusive to him. It was just... Eddie. 

“Say I do go with you,” he finally chirped. “Aside from what I presume will be a fuckton of fun and friendly bonding time… What’s in it for me?” It sounded selfish, Alfie knew that. Even still, it didn’t stop him from dragging out the inevitable. “I mean, y’know, you get your video out of it too, right? Doesn’t seem like a level playing field.”

Eddie nodded when Alfie repeated the dreaded “f” word. He knew his shut-in of a neighbor didn’t value things like genuine human connections, but Eddie felt determined to make himself an exception. “Proud of you for saying it out loud, I know ‘friend’ is like an obscenity to you,” Eddie teased with his hand over his heart. He didn’t understand Alfie; the guy could be surrounded by people who loved him if he would only put forth a little effort. Eddie would be among them, no question.

As Alfie spoke up again, Eddie’s brow raised in hopeful curiosity. The questions that followed immediately made it fall into a furrow. “That’s so fucked up,” he asserted. “I offer you pure platonic love and you’re telling me it’s not enough motivation for you, Alfie Ramirez?” He pushed off from the doorframe and firmly planted his hands on either hip. “You’re lucky that I don’t have more dignity, is all I’m saying. What do you want? Money? My HBOMax login info? Name it, you greedy fuck. Your wish is my command.”

Alfie’s face flushed when Eddie drew attention to his repetition of the word ‘friend’. In truth, Alfie hadn’t noticed he’d done it at all, though he could understand why it stood out. Things like that didn’t usually bear repeating. "Har har," he rolled his eyes. Alfie wasn't about to die on a hill proclaiming he had more friends than he knew what to do with. Eddie might have been his neighbor, but he was also the closest Alfie had to a friend in years. 

A terse laugh escaped his lips at the mention of "pure platonic love". With a broad grin, Alfie quickly intercepted. "No, Ed. You offered imminent death. But same difference, right?" The smile never wavered from his face as he listened to Eddie prattle off various options. The corner of his mouth twitched mischievously. "I already have your HBOMax login, by the way. You really need to change your passwords," he smirked.

Alfie wasn't usually someone who wanted for anything; he kept to himself and got what he needed. But there was one thing that would make it worthwhile. "Alright, fine. I'll go with you," he decided. "But after all's said and done, you owe me a box of Baby Ruths. I'm talkin' unopened retail box, nothin' but Baby Ruth goodness inside."

Imminent death. Eddie rolled his eyes playfully. “You are so dramatic,” he insisted. Most of his content-related adventures were potentially perilous but, lo and behold, Eddie still had a pulse. He couldn’t imagine what would make tonight any different. “You’re stealing from me?” he asked, feigning shock. “I’ll change them immediately, alfieisatool69 should do just fine—wait, shit, I shouldn’t have said that out loud.” Truthfully, Eddie couldn’t care less if Alfie used his login info, it felt like something friends would do. Granted, friends probably asked first, but that was neither here nor there.

“That’s it?” Eddie asked. “You could have asked for anything in the world and you went with candy bars.” It would’ve been physically impossible for him to be grinning any wider. “You’re a simple kind of guy, I respect that. Consider those candy bars signed, sealed, and delivered. Now, get your shit and let’s go solve a murder.”

“Technically,” Alfie stressed, unlocking his hands from behind his head to raise one of his fingers, “I’m stealing from WarnerMedia.” His brow raised at the new password Eddie threw out. After a brief lull, Alfie’s hands dropped to the arm rests of his chair, and gave a soft snort. “Alfieisatool69 — really? You’d use my name as a password? Gotta be honest with ya, Ed, that’s kinda gay.” Throughout their years as neighbors, Eddie’s feet remained firmly planted in his heterosexuality. It was rare that Alfie made friends at all, let alone with straight guys. This, he figured, was exactly the kind of ribbing to be expected in the friendship dynamic they shared — not that he had anything to compare it to. 

With a shrug, Alfie pushed himself from his seat. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good nougat.” No amount of candy bars would be able to prepare him for what was sure to come. But Alfie wasn’t in the position to demand egregious compensation when someone he considered a friend was essentially begging for his company. 

“What all do I need?” he finally asked as he slipped his wallet into his back pocket.

Eddie’s hand raised and mimicked a flapping jaw when Alfie corrected him with a technicality. When his new password was deemed gay, he scoffed. “You caught me—I’m so gay for you, the guy I need to bribe to spend time with me.” Eddie’s lips pursed as he proffered an exaggerated shrug. “I think if I was gay, which I’m not, I’d probably be more interested in someone who, I dunno, liked spending time with me.” He sounded more terse than he intended to, as if what he said held more genuine feelings than it did. So he thought, anyway. “The syphilis is also kind of a turn-off,” he added to make-up for the weight of his previous comment.

“Whatever the Alfie-essentials are. We’re just going to the woods and I’ve already got all of the filming equipment packed and ready to go,” Eddie informed him with a bright grin. “You are so not gonna regret this.”

“You caught me—I’m so gay for you...” The declaration caught Alfie off guard. For a moment he could feel his heart racing in his chest. After all this time? But before he could say anything irrational, Eddie pulled him back down to Earth fast enough to give him whiplash. Same old Eddie; he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Alfie was silent for a moment as he shuffled into a pair of sneakers haphazardly strewn across the floor. “Oh, right — the syphilis,” he half-laughed. “Good news is, Doc says I’m cured! I would have mentioned it sooner if I’d known that was a deal-breaker for you.” With a low grunt, he wiggled his heel into its shoe and scooped his phone up from the desk.

“Just gotta grab my keys,” Alfie added with a nod towards the office door, hoping Eddie would lead the way out so he didn’t have to walk past him. He didn’t know what else to say. Eddie didn’t think he enjoyed their time together; that much was made clear by the resulting whiplash. Granted, Alfie hadn’t given him reason to believe otherwise, but that didn’t keep him from climbing the balcony rails to visit. 

You could start by apologizing, his inner voice rang. While Alfie knew he probably should, he was worried it wouldn’t seem genuine enough. “You’re wrong, by the way,” he offered instead. He refused to make eye-contact and instead stared at the floor, but it was a start. “I like spending time with you. I mean, y’know… when it doesn’t pull me away from work. But — I do.”

“Well, clearly, we have no choice but to run away together, if that’s the case,” Eddie teased. He hated the way he didn’t hate the sound of that. He liked Alfie a lot, too much for comfort sometimes. Eddie noticed little things about his neighbor that shouldn’t have stood out to him: the rasp in his voice when he first woke up, the flash of his teeth when he spoke, the subtle crinkle around his eyes when he smiled. Seeing all of that and having his heart push him to do things he didn’t want to was agonizing. He told himself that must be what caring about a friend felt like, and usually he could convince himself to believe that, but sometimes…. Sometimes, he knew better.

Eddie stepped aside to let Alfie pass. To his surprise, he had something to say before he did. He studied his friend’s face as he spoke; flash of teeth, he was fucked. For the first time since he arrived, Eddie’s face bore a serious expression. “You do?” he asked before he could catch himself. “I mean, yeah, I was only teasing.… I know you do, Alfie.” He offered him a small smile. “Let’s get out of here.”

Alfie managed to skirt past Eddie with minimal effort; head lowered and shoulders down. Something in the way the other man spoke made it sound like a suggestion rather than a jest. He couldn’t afford to think like that. Besides, no matter how much truth it held, Alfie was better off alone. He’d die sooner than later and he wasn’t going to put his friend — or anyone for that matter — in that situation. 

“That’s what this is all about, right?” Alfie teased back, deciding that was what was expected of him. “I thought that’s what ‘let’s go solve a murder’ was code for.” 

In no time at all, he led the way down the short hall, only stopping at the front door long enough to snatch the keys off the hand-me-down entry-way table. “Cool,” blurted Alfie as he nodded along. “I didn’t want you thinking I don’t want you around, y’know?” His eyes shot up to meet Eddie’s for a brief moment and flashed an apologetic smile as he held the door open for him.

#c: alfie #wickedswriting #writing #hold on #// this is the first installment to something that is going to end up being longer than my life #but yolo

[cg29fics]

Gone

Issues with previous updates, so if you’re reading along you may want to check out the links for previous chapters. The full complete fic is also available via FF.Net & A03 - CreativeGirl29

Tagging 🔖 Sorry if I’ve missed anyone - If you would like to be tagged in these updates then please let me know and I’ll add you to the list: @janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @burningcowboyhoagietaco @dragonoffantasyandreality

Previous: Chapter 37. Waiting Room.

Chapter 38. Reactions.

Both Alan and his grandma had made their way into Virgil’s room. Alan now sat where Jeff had previously been and held Virgil’s hand in his, while his grandma sat on the opposite side with her hand placed on Virgil’s arm. Both had remained silent throughout their time in the room, both deep in their own personal thoughts. Eventually, Alan broke the silence and began to speak. “Hey Virgil. It’s Al. I… I just wanted to tell you that, I know you like your sleep and everything, but… But you have to wake up… Okay?” Alan paused, half expecting the usual reply of. ‘Go away Alan.’ That he normally received when waking his brother up from his slumber. Obviously, getting no such reply Alan continued. “Please Virg, I miss you… You’re the one I tell all my secrets too. Yeah, I can talk to the others, but the deepest secrets… Well, they’ve only ever been told to you, not even Gordon knows some of the ones you’ve heard!” Alan sniffed and wiped away a tear that was trickling down his face.

“Come here sweetheart.”

Alan glanced up and noticed his grandma was now standing next to him, with her arms open ready for a hug. Alan smiled and moved slightly over on his chair, allowing his grandma to sit down on the edge and wrap him tightly in her arms.

… …

30 minutes later:

“Hey.” Alan smiled greeting his three brothers and his father who were all conversing together on the sofa, when he and his grandma made their way back into the waiting room.

“Can we go in now?” Gordon asked.

“Of course, you can,” Ruth confirmed.

Gordon and John grinned, as they both jumped to their feet, and headed out of the room.

“So, what's been going on here then?” Ruth questioned, slipping in between Jeff and Scott on the sofa.

Jeff signalled for Alan to join them, as soon as he had, he began to fill them in on what had been discussed.

… …

“Geez!” Gordon sighed deeply, as he entered the room and observed all the wires and machines that were surrounding his brother. “Did I look this bad when I had my Hydrofoil accident?”

“Yes, you did!” John replied sadly, as he dropped into one of the chairs and clutched Virgil's hand.

Gordon breathed in and moved around to the opposite side of the bed. “Come on Virgil please open your eyes for us. Me and John really don’t want to have to share middle brother duties.”

John released a light laugh. “Yes, come on Virg. I mean, can you imagine the fallout?”

Gordon and John both grew quiet at receiving no response from Virgil, both remained silent, as they continued to listen to the beeps of the machine and watch the rise and fall of Virgil’s chest. Another half an hour had passed by with John and Gordon both talking intermittently to Virgil when Doctor Knight walked into the room and spoke quietly to Nurse Greggs. When he had finished he turned to both Gordon and John. “Are the rest of your family still in the waiting room?”

“Yes.” John replied. “Is there something wrong?”

“I have the drug screen results.”

“And?” John asked.

“If you’d like to come with me, then we can go through the results with the rest of your family.” Doctor Knight responded.

John and Gordon looked at each other worriedly, before following the Doctor out of the room.

… …

Doctor Knight had gathered the family in the interview room which was situated next to the waiting room, so they could gain a bit more privacy, due to other families starting to arrive. Once everyone had settled Doctor Knight began. “We have the drug results back, and the only anomaly is Rynax.”

Jeff sighed. “The same drug as before?

“That’s correct.”

“How much was he given?” Jeff asked.

“A considerable amount! Which was enough to stop his breathing. If you hadn’t found him when you did, unfortunately he would have suffered permanent brain damage.”

Upon hearing this news Ruth gripped her son’s hand in hers. “Where do we go from here?”

“We will continue to support his breathing until he wakes up,” Doctor Knight responded.

“And what are the chances of him having a reaction?” Scott asked.

“Due to the amount he was given, plus the potential interaction with the medication that he was on, it’s reasonable to expect him to have some side effects. However, since he’s been on renal precautions since coming in, it shouldn’t be anything lasting.”

“What side effects will he get?” Alan questioned.

“We are unable to say with any certainty. Virgil may display several symptoms at once, or he may have none. It really depends on how he processes the Rynax. The most common side effects with this drug are; nausea, vomiting, and migraines. So, we wouldn’t be surprised if these do appear.”

“How long are the symptoms likely to last?” John enquired.

“If he does show signs then anywhere from 24 hours to 3 days, which is usually how long the drug will stay in his system for.”

“When will he wake up?” Gordon queried.

“Unfortunately, we can’t give you an exact timeframe. However, Virgil is young, and normally he’s fit and well. So, the chances that it’s sooner rather than later are good.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Jeff replied, standing to shake the man’s hand, “can I see my son now?”

“Yes of course,” Doctor Knight responded.

Jeff breathed out, a look of worry etching across his face as he looked over at his mother and his three sons.

“It's okay, dad,” Scott assured him, “go and see Virgil… We'll finish here, and one of us will be through in a moment.”

Jeff nodded and quickly left the room.

… …

A short time later:

Scott stepped into his brother’s ICU room and observed his father clutching Virgil’s hand, as he lent in, and whispered soothing words to his son. “Dad.”

Jeff glanced back at Scott and smiled. “Hey.”

Scott placed his hand on his dad’s shoulder. “I’m going to take grandma back to the hotel, so she can get some rest.”

“What about your brothers?” Jeff questioned.

“John and Alan are coming with me, so we can get started on everything we discussed earlier.”

“And what about Gordon?”

“He’ll be staying here with you,” Scott replied.

Jeff shook his head and went to stand, but was instantly pushed back down into his chair by Scott. “But…”

Scott cut his father off. “No buts… You’re staying here dad! Someone needs to stay with Virgil, and I know your head will not be in the game if you are back at the hotel… So, I’m taking command! I will contact home and let everyone know what’s happened. As soon as we have any information then I will let you know… And as I said, Gordon will be staying here with you!”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Jeff smiled.

“Well, someone needs to keep an eye on you!”

Jeff laughed at Scott’s response, pulling his son into a heartfelt hug. “Remind me when you became the father?”

“I’ll see you later dad,” Scott grinned, releasing his father and leaving the room.

“So, you’re my babysitter?” Jeff chuckled when Gordon immediately entered after Scott had left.

“Mm… I’m just not getting paid as much as I used to though!” Gordon joked back, dropping into the seat on the opposite side of Virgil’s bed.

… …

Back at the hotel:

The past couple of hours had been predominantly busy for Scott. On returning to the hotel, he had begun by making sure that their grandma had gone to get some much-needed rest, he had then insisted that Alan and John get at least a few hours of sleep in before they began their next mission. When Scott was satisfied that all of them were sleeping, he contacted their island home.

Penelope had been the one to answer his call and had instantly snapped into action when she had heard what had happened to Virgil. She began by relaying all the information that she had obtained, regarding the Hood’s possible hideout before being arrested, and all the intelligence that had been made on the two male accomplices who had been helping him. Then to Scott’s delight she informed him about the invention that Brains had been working on, which would potentially act as a shield against his mind powers. She then continued by letting him know that because of this invention needing to be tested, that herself and Parker would be joining them in New Zealand, with Parker immediately flying them both out in Tracy 2, so she could visit the Hood and try out the new equipment.

Scott had initially tried to resist, however, when she had made several statements as to why she needed to be there, he eventually gave in knowing that when Penny had decided something there was no way anyone was changing her mind. Secretly, he was glad that the young woman would be joining them, knowing it would free up a little bit of time for each of them to visit Virgil, and knowing that if, and when Virgil did wake, another familiar and friendly face would do him the world of good.

A couple of hours later, Alan, John, and their grandma had woken to find Scott still awake and already working through some plans he had made. After seeing how tired Scott looked, his grandma had literally dragged her grandson to his bed, ordering him to get a few hours’ sleep, while John and Alan began working on the background checks. Scott had tried protesting, but once his head had hit the pillow, he instantly fell asleep.

… …

Meanwhile:

Throughout the past couple of hours, Jeff and Gordon had remained at Virgil’s bedside. Both talking intermittently to him, as they willed him to breathe on his own, both frustrated that still no change had taken place.

It was now 7.30am, and a new nurse called Ellie Ford, had recently come on duty for the morning shift. The nurse smiled at both men as she continued to observe the monitor and ventilator readouts. “Virgil’s just started triggering breaths.” She informed them.

“What… He has?” Jeff enquired, the light in his eyes slightly returning.

“Yes,” she responded.

Gordon grinned at his father and lent in towards his brother. “Come on Virg, keep breathing for us, you can do it!” He willed, as he started stroking Virgil’s hair.

Another 10 minutes passed by, Ellie had just finished checking his obs, and changing his IV bags, when Virgil’s hand flinched out of his fathers. The nurse ushered Gordon over to his father’s side of the bed, so she could gain full access, placed her one hand on Virgil’s shoulder and leaned in towards him. “Virgil can you hear me?” Virgil’s hand shot to his chest and then instantly settled. “Okay, keep talking to him. He may be hearing you.” She said, remaining at Virgil’s side. “Hopefully he’ll start to wake up very soon.”

Jeff nodded and looked hopefully towards Gordon. “So, any ideas on how to wake him up?”

Gordon thought for a moment and then released a light laugh. “I do actually… So Virg, when you were missing I was telling the guys about your last birthday when I managed to catch you out with one of my pranks. You remember… I covered you in pink feathers, and decked out...” Gordon paused and leaned in closer to Virgil, so the nurse could not hear him. “And I decked out your bird with pink balloons, party streamers and banners saying, 'Got You!’ Do you remember how I managed to pull that one off?” Receiving no reply from Virgil, Gordon continued. “You were distracted because I had made you believe that I was going to paint your girl yellow… Well, if you don’t wake up for us then I promise that this time I will paint her a glorious yellow, and I will sign the outside. ‘Love from Squid,’ in a luminescent pink!”

When Gordon uttered those last words Virgil’s monitors and ventilator began to screech, his eyes shot open, his body stiffened, his head began violently thrashing from side to side, and he began coughing and gagging against the tube. “Wow, Virg. I was only joking!” Gordon burst out, shocked and distressed at his brother’s reaction.

“Virgil, can you look at me?” Ellie questioned, holding Virgil’s chin in the palm of her hand.

With an unknown strength, Virgil’s hands shot up and gripped at the intubation tube. The nurse struggled with Virgil, eventually demanding a stunned Jeff and Gordon help hold his hands down. Both men instantly snapped out of the trance they had been in, and pulled Virgil’s hands out of the nurse’s way, so she could make sure the tube remained in place, and hit the emergency button.

“Virgil calm down, no one’s going to hurt you!” Gordon said desperately trying to reassure his brother.

Virgil’s head and body jolted from side to side, his face beginning to turn red, as the monitors and ventilators continued to screech.

“Please son,” Jeff begged, “you’re going to hurt yourself even more!”

At that moment, several members of staff hurried into the room. Followed by two muscular looking men, who pushed Jeff and Gordon out of the way, and forcibly held Virgil’s wrists flat on the bed. Gordon and Jeff plastered themselves to the wall, neither wanting to observe what was happening, but still not being able to look away.

Virgil suddenly became more violent as he attempted to kick his fractured legs around, alongside trying to sit himself up, and throw himself over the bed. The two men who had been holding Virgil’s wrists, moved their other hand onto his shoulders to prevent his attempts at sitting up, while Nurse Ford, keeping her one hand on the tube hit some buttons on the ventilator and monitor, finally silencing the screeching alarms.

“Try him on CPAP.” The doctor ordered.

One of the other nurses began pushing some buttons on the ventilator.

Jeff grew more impatient as his son continued to thrash around, while the red lights blinked furiously, and numbers flashed on the machines before him. “Please do something,” he begged.

"He's apnoea ventilating," the doctor said a few seconds later, although for Jeff it had felt like hours. "Sedate him and put him on his previous settings."

“Propofol?” Ellie asked as the other nurse pushed some more buttons on the ventilator.

The doctor nodded. "Bolus 50 and start an infusion."

The other nurse hurried out of the room and within seconds was back with some medication, she began setting up the infusion, while the doctor drew up some of the drug, which looked like milk into a syringe and then injected it into Virgil’s drip. Within seconds Virgil eyes closed, he stopped thrashing around, and he became perfectly still. The two men immediately let him go and left the room, while the doctor listened to Virgil’s chest, and Ellie began checking that the tube was still in the right position.

“What the hell happened?” Jeff demanded, stepping away from the wall and towards his son, looking white as a sheet from the shock of seeing his boy’s reaction.

The doctor offered both Jeff and Gordon a seat, which they gladly took, and introduced herself as Doctor Maxwell. “Unfortunately, Virgil woke while his brain was still jumbled from the Rynax that was in his system. I tried to let him breathe for himself, hoping that we would be able to take the tube out, but unfortunately his breathing is still not strong enough. So, we'll keep him asleep until tomorrow morning, and try waking him again then.”

“Did he harm himself, or re-injure anything? Gordon asked.

“It’s unlikely but we will check him over and do an X-ray on his fractured legs and his dislocated shoulder just to make sure,” Ellie replied, “I’ll also check his stitches, but as they’ve been in for six days and were due to be taken out they should be okay.”

Jeff gripped Virgil’s hand in his, leaned in and whispered some words to his son. When Jeff had settled back to a sitting position Doctor Maxwell continued. “Regrettably while myself and Nurse Ford do run these checks, we will have to ask you to wait in the waiting room.” She informed them.

Jeff let out a despondent sigh at not being able to stay with his son.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be as quick as possible,” Ellie responded.

Jeff nodded and followed Gordon into the now packed out waiting room.

“Dad?”

“Yes Gordon?” Jeff replied.

“Will you be okay while I call the others and update them on what’s happened?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine!” Jeff smiled reassuringly. “Can you also find out how they are getting on?”

“No problem dad,” Gordon responded pulling his father into his arms before leaving the room.

… …

It was now 10am, Scott had managed around three hours of sleep before waking up to find his two brothers gathered around the table in their large hotel suite, with Penelope and Parker who had just arrived. “Hello,” he greeted Penny and Parker sleepily.

“Hello Scott,” Penelope smiled, giving him a hug.

“Good morning Master Scott,” Parker responded, shaking his hand, “would you like a coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Scott returned.

“I’ll order us all some food as well,” Parker added leaving the room.

“Where’s grandma?” Scott questioned.

“She’s returned to the hospital about an hour ago,” John answered.

“So, where’s Gordon?” Scott asked.

“I’m here bro,” Gordon yawned, exiting the bathroom after having a shower.

“Any news on Virgil?” Scott enquired hopefully. When Gordon had relayed what had happened at the hospital, Scott slumped into his chair. “So, how have you been getting along with the background checks on the nurse and Doctor?”

“Well,” John started. It’s actually brought up some interesting information on both, but one is very damning!”

“Which one?” Scott enquired.

Next… Chapter 39. Background Checks.

#thunderbirds fanfiction #cg29fics #thunderbirds #thunderbirds original series #tagficgone #TAG Fics #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fandom

[simpinforu]

early mornings

warning - just a bunch of fluff with a cliffhanger ending ;)

girl's name - allegra (sneak peek of a story im writing on a different platform ;) maybe i'll post it here, you'll never know)

---

my eyes slowly opened to light from the sunrise shining in through the fabric of my lace curtains. i curled up tighter in the blanket and shut my eyes again after seeing it was only six thirty.

"yeah, you better go back to sleep.."

i turned and chuckled sleepily. "what if i don't want to?"

"then i'll put my cold feet on you," rafa muttered, not opening his eyes.

"you make that threat every time and you never do," i joked and sat up, not letting go of the blanket. "what if i want to go running?"

"take mia with you.." he started to doze back off to sleep. "wait, you never run anymore."

"yeah, no shit. it's frigid." i reached for his sweater on the ground. "i'll make us food and let mia out."

"sounds like a plan. i'll stay here in the comfort of the bed." rafa grinned and shut his eyes for the last time.

i silently got up after putting on his sweater and left the room, shutting the door behind me. from downstairs, i could hear mia getting off of her bed and running to the door. "hold on girl, i'll be there in a second."

i opened the door and she went running out into the yard. "think i would sleep for longer than you?"

i squealed as rafa grabbed my waist and hugged me. "you know i'm ticklish there."

"allegra, we've talked about this. i'll never listen to you about that!!" he teased and kissed my cheek.

i played with his messy head of hair. "you're such an idiot."

"but i'm your idiot," he chuckled softly and kissed the soft spot of my neck.

"come on, help me make something to fulfill your hunger."

"my hunger? you're the one who was eating strawberries at two a.m."

i rolled my eyes and chuckled. "you only went to sleep an hour befOR-"

he picked me up and put me on the counter, reaching into a cabinet to get something. "how long until you have to clock into the dance studio?"

i looked at the time. seven o'clock on the dot. "about an hour."

"perfect. that gives me time," he got the whisk and ran it down my jaw. "to make pancakes."

i smirked at his action. rafa definitely saw and came over, giving me a kiss. "not this morning, mi amor."

i nodded and hugged his neck. "i'm going to go get ready, so don't get too lonely."

"don't worry, i will!"

---

later that day at about seven, i got home from the dance studio. a whole day of teaching different age groups completely different choreography got tiring at times. my nose was immediately met with the faint scent of smoke, meaning that rafa was home from filming.

"hi love," i opened the patio door and wrapped my arms around rafa's neck. "how was your day?"

rafa looked up at me and put out his cigarette. "it was okay..busy, as per usual."

i leaned down and gave him a kiss. "tell me about it."

he took my hand and sat me on his lap, burying his face in my arm and kissing it. "well, we started on a new episode and of course, the other producer didn't like the script so we had change that again. the worst part is that i didn't get to call you."

"you survived," i moved my legs so one was on either side of him in a straddle.

he put his hands on my waist and hugged me, my arms going around his neck. "now, it's better because i get to hold you without a care in the world."

i smiled softly and looked into his eyes. "except for mia. she'll try to take all of your attention."

"except for mia." he and i laughed.

i played with the back of his hair, running the long brown locks through my fingers. "but, can i blame her? you're a peach."

rafa chuckled. "then what does that make you, al?"

"dunno," i smiled and got up.

"nope, you're not allowed to leave." he grabbed me by the torso and hugged me to his now standing body.

although rafa was somewhat shorter than say daveed, i somehow was at least four inches shorter than him, so when we hugged, my face leaned up against his chest. "when will i ever be?"

"i don't know. i'll decide in a minute."

his hands carelessly trailed up by back and to my face. he smiled and let go of me. "i think i..love you, allegra ruth mills."

i smiled softly and looked at the ground. "i..."

#rafael casal #daveed diggs

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

So, my favourite contestant from ot 2020, Anne Lukin, just released her first album, and it's soo good i thought it deserved its own post.

Okay, so, first of all, Anne Lukin was the youngest contestant in ot 2020, and she had zero experience before the contest. That means, the first time she sung in front of people was in the castings, and the first time she sung on stage in front of a live audience was on gala 0 with Moon River. Also, the first time she ever wrote a song was inside of ot, where she released her first single, Salté, which I still listen to a lot. She also is bisexual, and although she hasn't released many love songs, none of them feature pronouns which is cool.

Her musical style can be defined as lyrical, but also with some 90s inspo. You can see her two main "styles" of songs in her two first singles from this album:

("En el Chino de la Esquina" mv features singer Ruth Lorenzo, who represented Spain in Eurovision back in 2014!)

The album is called "Al Día Siguiente" and all the songs are amazing, please listen to it. I'll leave my favorite ones, but seriously, all of them are great :)

"Cariño" is my favourite song from the album, it's a love song to her parents (which are featured in the lyric video!) and it's so so beautiful jo.

She's from Pamplona, so her mother tongue is basque, and she includes a song in euskera in the album, "Lisboa"!!!

One thing I haven't said is that, listening to this album, her lyrical content reminded me of Rozalén, which is always great. I don't know why, cause her songs are pretty different from hers, but this one, "Extraterrestre" is the song that gives me the most Rozalén vibes.

Finally, this is her new single, "V", and oh my fucking good it's so good. And the music video!!! She's already stunning but in here she looks so good! Also, it's a breakup song, and, well, if you've followed her in OT you know who she's talking about, and all the song is just very 👁️👄👁️ like go off queen

Anyways, stream "Al Día Siguiente" and stan Anne Lukin

#al dia siguiente #anne lukin #no but really #it's so funny to listen to el chino de la esquina and then v #when you've seen ot 2020 #Youtube

[libidomechanica]

“And all the distant light; that she will more pure than that”

Course from a star and digits, and     blade, bethrothed to one, a neighbour’s lot, I think our child!     As he that politeness

set it free or failing, I abide     what the bastioned walls of canvas led three to three.     Your honour: every clime,

of being a web over your     surqedrie, with Psyche. And you see her ancient legend crede.     Bodie bigge, and heavenly

wise; it had beneath the same     construction as your cort ryche in naked left all the larkspur,     and þe couenauntez

ofte; þe snawe þat spenet on his     face it, I have no ruth for any were fair face though the     creeks we will he liue tyll

the flat all the Sin wherewithal     an answer vague as wind: beside the goodman on thy corbe     should bear him, Look, he hatz

nere þat here is a long-drawn Sigh,     my Clay with the fragrant bank of vapour. Cold, this way þer     þay ȝelden hym of

aquoyntaunce, hit keuer þe londez launces     hym as mery as any god welde! And all the distant     light; that she will more

pure than that. Thus blessed, and feted     ful fayre, clad wyth mony bonkkez to schende, aȝayn his dynt þat     dere tyme so kenly fro

þe face and taysed to shrowde the     sounds daily praysed, and cum to welde þer felle weppen;     and the rough a hundred.

Half etayn in hys hede, a     bauderyk, aboute beten with fele sere, and score. Sorrow     to hand, to byde bale with

death the Lady of the sea-beasts,     ranged alle his means his father though the shore just seen of     sturne, at þyn ese, and

hendely pray, and waive thee young     unmarried and emerald’s beam shades down the stormy time with     silk sayn vmbe his syde. And

oþez innoȝe þat þay deȝen, and I will     not gainsay love, my love her, looks at their open window     shines the temperature.

Half etayn in erde with fugitive     articular like poplar grove when þay wyth yow sum     game; dos, techez hym to

won quyle þat here masse watz dyȝt     and redyly he stars; and He that crazed his dedez, of     þe were a folé

felefolde, in hor store: and at the     woman’s heart. But I looked on justify it the generous     emulation, gleams

only paid, tell her point: not war:     lest I lose all. ’: Al laȝande loude, ȝe schal leþe my heart, I knowe;     ȝe schal fonde, bi my wyt

to wynne þe best of peace, one Dusk     an Angel Shape bearing and the scales; but this has not, if     the seed of eloquence

of accomplishments she takes to     advancing hours: their troth? None answered, touched up into finger     even. Above thee!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #112 texts #ballad