#and she’s sad so its a pun like widower

[goodfish-bowl]

Ectober Day 5: Fairy Circle

Prequel to Lost in the Wood

AO3 link (will be updated)

Summary: Flynn should’ve known better than to go into the woods by himself.

Words: 1596

Content warnings: child abduction, manipulation

Notes: this is the first, and Lost in the Wood is technically the last, but there will be more in between, the order your read them in is irrelevant.

Flynn’s parents were fighting again. It was his birthday, they could at least wait until the next day. Papa was trying to teach him how to shoot a gun, which Mom had known he had brought. That’s what the argument was about this time. Flynn didn’t think he really needed to know how to shoot a shotgun. He knew how to get away from a bear and make a variety of traps, why would he need a gun?

The yelling escalated and Flynn decided an enclosed tent was not the place to be. He took a deep breath, bitter that his parents would fight on his birthday. He loved the woods, it had a quiet that didn’t exist in their cabin back in Spitoon. He loved his home and his parents, he just wished they’d get along more.

Flynn had an idea, then, and took a glance behind him. He wasn’t allowed to go into the woods alone. It was the chief rule, one of the few things his parents did agree on absolutely. Flynn grabbed his bag, shoved it full of the most basic gear, and took off running.

The woods consumed him in seconds. Another thing he loved. He instantly found the place in the woods where the trees were as thick around as the tool shed, and the light became dim, high canopy preventing it from touching the ground more than just enough to see through green lenses.

Flynn slowed down and took a glance behind him, the deer tail barely visible among the remaining brush. He couldn’t hear his parents anymore, and the forest was much too silent. He felt desperately alone. Flynn took a deep breath and calmed down, trying to keep from crying. He would never get his parents to work together to find him if he couldn’t at least wait for them to notice he was gone. (They’d notice right? They would come for him?) He made himself a comfortable spot and pulled out a protein bar to munch on. Now all he had to do is wait.

Flynn waited, and then waited some more. He was really patient, he knew he was, and he knew he had waited a long time by now. The sun was getting ready to set soon. Something sad and lonely settled in a corner of his mind. Where were Mom and Papa? We’re they looking for him? He knew that he hadn’t wondered to far by himself, he should be able to hear them from camp if they were calling for him.

Flynn held as still and quiet as he physically could, but he heard nothing, not even the sounds of the woods he had grown to love. Suddenly uncomfortable at the lack of sound outside of his own person, Flynn decided to go back to camp. He didn't want to be out here at night. He pulled a flashlight from his bag and clicked the button. The light flickered pathetically for a second before going out, leaving him in the coming darkness.

As fast as he safely could, Flynn went back towards camp. The woods didn’t go back to the familiar sight of the campground, but remained old and silent, judging him for his actions. Tears built up behind his eyes, but Papa said boys didn’t cry, so he shouldn’t. But Flynn couldn’t help it, and the tears flowed freely.

“Mom! Papa!” He called out, fear and desperation saturating his voice. He cried out again and again, but the woods gave him nothing in return.

Finally, the brink of darkness fell, and Flynn lost the ability to see.

“Poor thing. Did your parents leave you?”

Flynn froze and whiled around, yelping in fear as his heart sputtered in his chest. He hadn’t even heard someone approach.

And she was standing far too close, only a couple feet away, a strange green lantern illuminating her and the area around her. Flynn whimpered, scared, silently chiding himself for acting like a baby. He wasn’t scared! She just surprised him. Yeah, that’s all. The dark, silent woods, with surprise ladies had nothing on him. He built up his courage to reply.

“My parents didn’t leave me!” He shouted defensively, “I ran away.”

He couldn’t see her features under the black veil she was wearing, which he thought was weird. It was nowhere near Halloween. Even stranger, she started to sniffle and cry, like she was the one lost.

“Oh, oh, so sad. You must be so brave to run away from your parents! Tell me, little one, why did you run?” She asked, her voice quivering from her tears.

Flynn gulped, this lady gave him the creeps. “I wanted them to make them stop fighting on my birthday,” he answered truthfully.

She stood there for a moment, before wailing in anguish. It echoed in the forest much more than it should, “So brave, so selfless, so, so, so sad,” She cried out, “How old did you turn today?” She asked between another sniffle.

“Twelve.”

She was too close all too fast. He didn’t see her move, but now her face was leaned into his, and he could see her stange, bloodshot and crimson eyes underneath her pitch veil.

“Would you like to play a game with me? When we’re done I can take you back to your parents.” She asked, her voice and tone suddenly different.

When he tried to back up, her hand snapped to his wrist, ice cold and pale fingers digging into his wrist. He began to struggle, pulling desperately on her wrist and hand to release him.

“Stop! You’re hurting me.” Flynn wailed, throwing all his wait into him release. She didn’t as much as budge.

After a heavy second, her fingers cracked off of his wrist like old hinges. He cradled his wrist, aware that he would have bruises by tomorrow.

“Will you play?” She asked, her tone so monotone she could’be been a robot.

“No! I want to go back to my parents!” He demanded. She didn’t react.

“I will take you back to your parents after we play, I promise,” she swore, placing a hand onto her chest.

“No! You’re creepy and you hurt me! I don’t want to lpay with you!”

Apparently, she didn’t like that answer. She reeled back, and clutched and tugged at her veil. He could still see her eyes under her veil, and the green light of the lantern seemed to intensify.

“Then you won’t leave this forest.”

The light of the lantern snuffed out, abandoning him in the dark. He cried out, frightened or the pitch blackness and silence that had engulfed him.

“Please! Don’t leave me! I’ll play! I’ll play! Just don’t leave me here!” Flynn wailed.

The lantern light returned, this time several paces behind him. He could see her smile under the veil.

“Thank you so much. I’ve been so lonely,” she thanked him, and beckoned him closer.

Hesitantly, he took a few steps forward, but easily out of reach still.

“So, what are we playing?” Flynn asked, genuinely curious.

“I love to play castle. I’ll be the Lady, and you can be my lovely little knight!” He exclaimed in glee, before pausing, “I don’t know your name yet, little knight. Tell me so I may knight you as your Lady and Queen.”

Realizing the game had already begun, Flynn went down on one knee, “My name is Flynn Walker, my lady. What is yours?‘

She smiled, kind and cruel. “My name is Misery Vex, but you may call me Lady Widow.”

She suddenly held a blade, as long as his forearm, the metal reflecting the green of her lantern. His eyes widened. She hadn’t had that a second ago. She pointed it at him, then carefully touched his shoulders twice with it.

“Flynn Walker, do you swear to serve me and my will as long as you can, with your heart and life? Until your body no longer bleeds and mind no longer thinks? DO you promise to protect me from all threats and dote upon my every word?” She asked.

Still thinking it part of a game, Flynn swore. “I do, my Lady Widow.”

“Then rise, Ser Flynn.”

Flynn rose to his feet and she handed him the blade. It was stange to hold, and it hummed in his grip, slowly getting lighter and smaller until it suited him perfectly. He watched in awe.

“Come now, Ser Flynn, my little knight, lets go to my castle,” she commanded, and he knew it was a command, he could feel it.

He followed, transfixed by the sway of the lantern and the shadows it cast. The trees parted and the moon shone through a single hole in the canopy, revealing a ring in the middle of the bare clearing. It was made of strange mushrooms Flynn had never seen, growing in a perfect circle.

She stepped inside, and beckoned him to d the same. He obeyed, despite a voice in the back of his head that sounded like his mother, warning him to stay, that something was amiss. It was overwhelmed by the urge to do as Lady Widow said. Flynn stepped inside of the ring, right next to his Lady. She beamed at him in approval and unconditional love. She beat down, so much taller than any person he had ever met, and embraced him.

The lantern crackled, and the mushrooms stole its light. The ground fell away into green beneath him and Lady Widow, and they vanished.

#danny phantom #goodfish writes #Flynn walker #misery vex #aunt Alicia mentioned #unnamed exhusband mentioned #ectober 2021 #fairy circle #I only like the fannon version of Flynn #I have a whole story plotted out for him and Misery #Misey is now Lady Widow because spider theme #and she’s sad so its a pun like widower #goodfish draws #ectoberhaunt 2021

[taetaespeaches]

I was stalking the boys ig and I started thinking how the boys will be with the girls online and this is what I came up with: (it may be long I’m so sorry)

Jin: he comments all of her pics with a “Poopsieeee” and some puns, she appears lowkey in his account like he post a pic of his food? Everyone knows who the two plates are for, he makes a really good joke? Army knows it was Poopsie who said it first. but on the day she agrees to go with him to fish, there are more than three posts of her fishing (one is her scared face when the boat moved)

Yoongi: she appears once a year, and maybe doesn’t even show her face, probs just her hands but I do think he would constantly name her in his captions “kid thinks I look good in here” “she show me this cool place” “army it’s cold, don’t catch a cold like a brat I know who refuses to wear a coat” “they’ve been calling “Yoongi ah” to that cat for twenty minutes, I’m done” *a pic of Nam and kid with a ginger cat”

Hobi: she lives there, u can’t see a post without her in there and it what she deserves. She asked him to stop, it’s his ig, but all he said was “but u match my aesthetic so good :(“ “look how good you look today, I need to post it” and petal just roll her eyes and appreciates the attention

Nam: Like with his friends, you can always catch Daisy’s back in his museum pictures, he also likes to post candid pics like her in his studio drawing or reading a book next to a window omg cute bike dates pic 🥺

Jimin: he appears more in her ig to be honest, he just post random pics of him in her account, and she lets him bc he’s cute 💁🏼‍♀️ and when he does upload in his account is a pic that makes u feel the most single u ever felt

Tae: He post a video of him shirtless in his stories and two minutes later he post a message from Peaches threatening to break up with him if he keeps the act up, and to come back to bed fast. He likes to post pics of her with Yeontan, with his paintings, on their dates, like all the time :( he just want the world to see how great she is :( now I’m sad

Jungkook: another babie :( basically all of his stories are Holly with Bam and black widow (that was the name of her dog??) like their little family :( and their adventures :( “we came to steal jins food, thanks Poopsie for giving us the code!” “The multiverse of Holly” and its a pic of Holly with Min Holly :(

Omg why is this so fucking accurate?! Like genuinely, this! THIS! I really enjoyed reading this, thanks for sending this in because YES! THIS!!! So so cute, I can literally see all of this being true lol I don't even have anything to add, I just fully agree 🧡

#anon #asks #i swear you guys could just write the fics for me at this point your descriptions of this kind of stuff are always so spot on my goodness #i loved this so much <3 #longterm-couples

[totallypathet]

Episode Eleven

Finally, some good fucking mini challenge. Everybody loves puppets! I always love the puppet challenge, it's good old fashioned drag race fun!

It looked like the girls were having a good time, lost of them did a good job... except Gigi. Gigi was just hard to watch. It's becoming a bit of a theme, and it's a shame. I also actually didn't think Jaida's was funny? They put laugh sounds (the trademark Roople cackle) over it, but she didn't tell any jokes, and she didn't deliver it like comedy. At least, not in the edit they showed.

Anyway, the main challenge for this week was to write a one woman show! I was a little bit confused by the assignment, I wasn't sure if it was meant to all be comedy, or how far they were allowed to extend into other avenues. I also think 5 minutes is tough for a one woman show, it's not a lot of time to do more than one thing - so essentially you just end up with a comedy routine anyway. It was a bit bizarre.

And the guest judge was the legendary Whoopi Goldberg!!! I love Whoopi so much, I was so excited to see her on there! And she was a really great mentor and judge! She coached them all well, gave them good constructive feedback on their routines, and as a judge she was so constructive and good natured and funny! I just adore her.

Anyway, now the fangirling is done, let's break down this week...

1. Crystal Methyd

Crystal won a challenge!!! It's been such a long time coming, and oh my god she deserved it so much this week! Her show had me rolling, it was so absurd and ridiculous, I just loved it! And she was clearly having such a ball doing it, and we all know that's my favourite thing to watch. In fact, that was my favourite Whoopi critique, was when Ceystal was talking about how she wanted to make people laugh, and Whoopi said "So make it fun for you." Because that's 100% right, like most of the time if we (the audience) see someone is having fun, we'll have fun with them. Such an important lesson.

And Phenomenal Phil ended up being the absolute funniest one up there! Crystal gave us fun, she gave us absurd, she had puns, she had ridiculous dance moves, she had everything for me. I was so proud, the whole way through, because I felt like we were watching pure, unfiltered, unbothered Crystal Methyd. And she wasn't worried about being too weird, or if she was making everybody in the room laugh, she was just rolling with it, and enjoying it.

Also I loved her look! Again, such pure Crystal, I was tripping balls and I loved it.

10/10 for me this week, she deserved that win, and she deserves her spot in the top 4.

2. Gigi Goode

Gigi is literally unravelling before our eyes, and its genuinely really hard to watch. I think it's really getting to her now that she really does have serious competition, and she doesn't know how to handle it.

Her concept was really funny, and she had some great jokes in there, she had a great character as well, but Ross was right, it felt so scripted. She didn't trust herself to ad-lib in sections that the audience were really enjoying, she was too busy thinking about what her next line was, and it made it too stilted. It was a shame, because it had so much potential.

Having said all that, "go fuck yourself, Gary" was probably my favourite line of the night, because it just came out of nowhere for me. It's interesting, I think it felt worse somehow that there were parts that were really funny. I think 5 minutes of average laughter seems kind of fine - but if one joke gets raucous laughter, the silence is real obvious if the next joke fails.

Her runway was cute. I caught the reference, she looked good, she did the assignment. It wasn't anything special, which is (unfortunately) where most of Gigi's looks for the last few weeks have been for me. Given how she came in, with 4 incredible looks in episode 1, I've been disappointed.

3. Heidi N Closet/Heidi Afrodite

I feel so sad that Heidi's gone, I really thought she was going to make top 4. I feel like she's come such a long way from episode 1, and honestly no-one has charisma like Heidi has charisma. Also what am I going to do without her confessionals? Her, Widow and Jaida were carrying those confessionals, and now there's only Jaida left? Devastating.

But, unfortunately, she did deserve to go this week. Her performance was the worst. I honestly think there were too many characters. Also it was impossible to tell who was who, I think she needed differentiators, like Jackie had with the different glasses. I think she could have done one of 2 things; reduced the characters to just two, so it was easier to follow, or make the confusion part of the comedy. Like, it would have been really funny if she'd had these 4 characters, and she was running around trying to play them all and getting the wrong voice or accessory, like "granny why are you talking like Slick?", or "give me back my glasses Sharon!", and it just ended up like "who are you again?" and just really play into that confusion. I wonder if she was trying to keep it too close to life, and forgot to exaggerate the comedy. It was unfortunate.

Her runway thooooough. That dress was so beautiful, and honestly her face was (I think) the prettiest it's been for the whole competition. The only shame about it was that that's not a lip syncing gown. Particularly not a Prince lip syncing gown. But it was stunning, she went out looking beautiful, with her head held high, and with such a bright future. I can't wait to see what she does next!

4. Jackie Cox

Jackie pulled it out this week. She did such a great show, it was funny, it was heartwarming, it was personal, and it told us so much about Jackie. I think Whoopi's coaching really stuck with her, when she said that she doesn't do stand up because she's not funny, she tells stories? I think they resonated with Jackie, and maybe took a little of the comedy pressure off, and gave her space to do something a little more personal, and tell her story, and not worry about telling jokes. I think that freedom really opened the space for natural humour, and I think Jackie is naturally funny! She did an excellent job this week, and I was so proud.

Her look this week, I enjoyed; it was high concept, high drag, but also really fun! I didn't get the reference at all, I think it's to a song, but I have never heard it. But honestly that didn't even matter, I thought she looked like a haute couture grinch. It was out of the box for Jackie, not at all what I expected, and I loved it.

5. Jaida Essence Hall

I think Ross nailed Jaida's performance when he said "I bet it was hilarious when she called her best friend and told that story". Because I bet it was! Shit, I'd laugh if my best friend called me up and told me that story, but it just didn't work in a stage context. It was a real shame, because I could see that she was trying, and that she knew it wasn't working. Jaida was in a really tough spot this week, because she went on after someone sho has no idea how to shut up and stayed on stage 12 minutes longer than she should have. Honestly, I dont know why they let her keep talking, they should have signalled her and stopped her.

Anyway, Jaida had to follow that, and honestly the best thing she could have done when she walked out there was acknowledge it. Say something like "I did have a story to tell you, but I've forgotten it now." Change the energy of the room. Honestly though, I think Jaida had the same problem as Gigi, she didn't trust herself. She knew that the audience wasn't feeling her story, I wish she'd just trusted that feeling and cut it off, done something different and tried to get the audience back on side.

All of that aside, she had (I think) the best look on the runway. It was so sleek, so chic, and so gorgeous. I loved it so much, she felt like a fashion front cover. Which, to be fair, she does most of the time.

She did deserve to be in the bottom this week, but she also really deserved to stay, and she really deserves her place in the top 4 as well.

So next week is the last week before the reunion! From the preview, it looks like they're all wearing their entrance looks again, so I'm excited to see what that's about. I'm also wondering how they're going to do the reunion. Will it be the same, just with more distance between the chairs? Will they do it by a zoom call? Will they just wait until this is over? Who knows!

One other thing I do really want to know though, is can Dahlia Sin finally go home now? She was eliminated first, and instead of letting her go home to her loved ones for comfort, they said no, stay and wear this broccoli costume every week and we'll use you as a sight gag. Honestly, poor Dahlia. That's going to become her oppalance, her Miss Vanjie, her cucu.

#drag race season 12 #drage race #drag race spoilers #rpdr #rpdr12 #rpdr spoilers #crystal methyd #heidi afrodite #heidi n closet #gigi goode #jackie cox #jaida essence hall

[supernaturalee]

Green and Gold: Part 1 - Gwilym Lee x Reader

Pairings: Widow/Single Father! Gwilym Lee x Reader

Warnings: Deceased wife/mother, slight angst/sadness, and Karen. 

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: When Gwilym lost his wife two years ago he feared raising his daughter alone in a small coastal New Jersey town would be difficult. In the two years since her death, Gwil and Brianne are finally ready to start moving on. Following the words of a child psychologist, Gwil signs Bri up for cheerleading with the local youth squad, something Gwil knows nothing about. As he is thrust in the world of cheer bows and back handsprings, he will learn it takes a lot more than green and gold uniforms to mend his and his daughter’s hearts. Hopefully through the squad they will find strength, friendship, and possibly a spark of new love for the widow himself.  

Taglist:@the-baby-bookworm 

Author’s Note: So a lot of this series will come from stories of my own childhood as a youth cheerleader. It is really near and dear to my heart. I really hope you enjoy it and please let me know if you want to be tagged in future installments. 

Gwilym sipped his morning cup of tea as he enjoyed his few moments of peace and quiet in the hour before Brianne was awake. The ingredients for her lunch, laid in front of him as he placed the union jack mug down, a gift from his mate Ben. Today was Wednesday, which meant it was ham and cheese wraps with carrots, pretzels, and a gogurt. As he started making her lunch, he realized tonight was the first night of her cheerleading practice. He let out a breath as he rolled up the wraps before packing the snacks into the purple lunchbox. Filling her water bottle, placing it all in her backpack.  He took out her homework from the night before, looking over her math and then her English. She was a smart kid, smarter than he had been in his fifth year. Gwilym believed it was all from Angela, she was brilliant and that showed in Brianne. 

It was a humid September morning in the small town along the New Jersey coastline. The tall Welshman grimaced at the thought of another overly warm day with no promise of rain. Sometimes when he longed for the gray skies that England promised him, he would remember the excitement in Angela’s voice as she spoke about the town of her childhood. The way her brown eyes would go wide with joy as she told him of the wonderful memories she had of that place and how she longed to raise her own family there. It had actually been decided when she told him she was pregnant that they would move back to her hometown to raise their incoming child. It also didn’t hurt that his company had offered him a large raise and the covering of moving expenses to take over a better position in their New York office. So the young couple moved transatlantically and settled in a small two story home not far from Angela’s own childhood home. It had been a happy homecoming for Angela and the promise of an incredible life together for Gwilym with their new child, a beautiful baby girl named Brianne. 

That was until two years ago when the small but happy family lost Angela what seemed like very suddenly. Life became difficult from that moment on. Two years of grief therapy for both father and daughter, many sleepless lonely nights where he would reach out to her spot to pull her close like he had done so many times before, only to find the coldness of the sheets, and maybe one too many scotches on the nights when it became too much to bear. Friends that the couple had made didn’t know what to do with the now single father and his young seven year old daughter, so they distanced themselves from him. Ben, his friend from back home in England, flew in and stayed for two weeks while Gwil and Angela’s parents planned the funeral for the twenty-nine year old wife and daughter they had just lost. Two years passed and the loss and loneliness had not completely faded.

Gwil moved to make two bowls of oatmeal for breakfast and thought of his workday ahead. After the death of his wife, the publishing company he worked for allowed him to take a small leave of paid absence and then worked with him on working from home a few days a week as Brianne was still young. When he did have to commute into the city, which was an hour and a half train ride away, Angela’s parents would watch Brianne. He had even cleared her new cheerleading schedule with them. Brianne spent every Friday night with them and Gwilym would get a night to himself. Through most of the time, he would spend it thinking about how much he missed his daughter and how he couldn’t wait until she was home again the next morning. 

Angela’s parents Mario and Justina had been incredibly supportive with both the young girl and the widower father. He knew how hard it was for them after losing their only child, it was the main reason that Gwil didn’t move himself and Brianne back to England. They deserved to be an integral part in their granddaughter’s life. Gwilym shook away the thoughts of his late wife again as he placed the bowls of oatmeal on the island. He poured Bri a glass of juice and glanced up at the clock. He moved through the house to the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time he reached the top landing quickly. He let out a breath of success before moving to Brianne’s room down the hall from his own. He pushed opened the slightly ajar door more before sticking his head in. 

“Bri, honey, it's time to get up.” He stated before moving inside the neat room and opening the curtains, letting in the sunlight of the day. The nine year old stirred and groaned softly at the sudden light filling her room. She sat up, stretching her arms out. 

“Morning dad.” Brianne rubbed the last few morsels of sleep from her brown eyes and looked at her doting father. Those brown eyes of hers were one of the last pieces of Angela left on the Earth. Angela was almost disappointed when the baby’s eyes were brown and not blue like Gwilym. He just chuckled and said he would rather have two pairs of the most magnificent brown eyes in the world than two pairs of his own. Angela never said another word about it from that moment on. Brianne pushed back her light brunette locks from her face as she moved off the bed. Gwilym moved back to the doorway and looked at the young girl. 

“Breakfast is ready, come eat and then you can get ready for school.” He said. Brianne smiled wide and turned making her bed. Gwil didn’t mind making it but in Brianne’s big ‘I’m in fifth grade now dad,’ speech she made last week right before school started she had promised him that she would always make her bed from then on. Gwil moved to his room, changing from his sweats and an old rugby shirt into a pair of plain blue jeans and a white button up. He pulled on some gray socks and moved down to the kitchen. 

He knew he had no video meetings today so mostly that meant he was going to be reading manuscripts that prospective authors had sent in with the hopes of being published which meant dressing down. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair and looked at himself in the master bathroom mirror. Only the small bags under his eyes gave away how truly tired he was. At least last night he didn’t dream of her, he actually hadn’t dreamt of her in months. He was just restless, constantly up checking on Brianne just to make sure she was sleeping okay. Gwil inhale and ran his hands over the short beard he had grown. He had been toying with the idea of shaving for a few days. Angela had liked him clean shaven. He shaved every morning for six months after her death almost as if begging for some higher power to bring her back to him, to bring her back to their daughter. It hadn’t worked. 

“Dad!” Brianne’s voice from the kitchen had pulled him from his thoughts as he moved downstairs. 

“Yes love?” He said as he sat down beside her at the island. 

“Did you pack my lunch?” She asked hopeful that he said no and would just give her money for chicken nuggets like a lot of the other children got. 

“Of course.” He smiled proud of himself and the recipes he learned from parenting sites across the internet. Brianne frowned before starting to eat her maple brown sugar oatmeal. 

“What did you make?” 

“Ham and cheddar wraps with the mustard you like from Prime deli, carrots, and pretzels.” He said slightly unsure even though he packed the bag not even forty minutes previous. 

“Did you give me a go-gurt?” Her eyes now hopeful for the sweet tube of yogurt the kids loved. 

“You-gurt I did.” He made the terrible pun. Brianne’s face went dead pan.

“Dad!” She gave him a petty chuckle. “That was a really bad joke. “ Her chuckle turned into a soft giggle as Gwilym laughed. 

“As your dad I’m contractually obligated to make at least five bad jokes a day. I’m sorry darling it is in the guidebook to fatherhood.” He smiled at her. Brianne’s giggle turned back into a chuckle and an eye roll as she returned her full attention to her oatmeal. “Nervous or excited?” Gwil asked after a few moments of eating between the two. 

“For tonight?”

“Yeah, first big cheer practice!” He gave her a hopeful smile. She nodded. 

“More nervous than excited I guess.” She said scooping up a spoonful of oatmeal and pushing it around the bowl. “What if I’m no good? A lot of the kids have been cheering since they were five. I never have!” Her eyes moved to her father, they were filled with doubt. It took everything in him for Gwilym to not pull his daughter to his chest and hold her, promising her that everything would be okay.  

“So you’re a little behind, so what. You don’t have to cheer if you don’t want to.” He said. “Its okay to quit if it's for the right reasons.” He hoped that she wouldn’t ask him what the right reasons were because he wasn’t entirely sure he knew them himself. 

“No!” She said quickly shaking her head. “I want to! I’m just gonna have to try harder than some of the girls. I can do it.” The strength returned to her voice. 

“That’s my Bri.” Gwilym smiled wide with pride. “Has any of the kids shown you any moves?” He asked. 

“Well this girl Jasmine has. She’s on my team and in my class. She’s super cool and I really like her. “ Brianne smiled.  Gwil had heard bits and pieces about this girl and how much Brianne liked her.  “She showed me the game cheers at recess this past week and I’ve been practicing them. I think I got most of them down.” 

“Wait, game cheers? Are those different from the cheer cheers?” He asked slightly confused. 

“Game cheers are for the football games when we cheer on the teams. The cheer routine, dad, is for the competitions.” She confirmed for him. 

“Oh. Okay.” He blinked letting the information file itself in the new file on American cheerleading and football he had in his mind. When he had signed her up, he knew she would be at games but when the woman there asked if she was competing competitively Gwilym understood none of it. It took Brianne confirming that she wanted to compete. “Got it. You have got to teach me this stuff darling. In England, we don’t really have cheerleaders.” 

“Okay.” She nodded finishing her orange juice. She hopped off her stool taking her bowl and glass to the sink, placing them down. 

“Bri.” Gwil said watching her.

“Dishwasher, I know.” She took her dishes from the sink and put them in the half full dishwasher. Gwilym made a note to himself to run it after he got back from dropping her off at school. He finished his last few bites of breakfast as she ran upstairs to brush her teeth and get dressed. He moved putting his dishes in the machine, before putting on his shoes. After about ten minutes, he grabbed his car keys and wallet before looking up the stairs.

“Ready?” He called up. 

“Yeah.” She jogged down the stairs in shorts and a t-shirt. She moved pulling on her sneakers before taking her backpack from Gwil’s extended hand. They got into his black Chevy Cruze and pulled from the driveway. He started the short drive to the elementary school. 

“So how many kids are on the team?” He asked as he turned down the morning drivetime radio. 

“Thirty-five including me.” 

“Thirty-five! Doesn’t that get a little crowded and complicated?” He asked.

“Dad the best routines are complicated. The coaches know what they are doing. They were so good last year they got third in nationals!” She said excitedly. The way her voice talked about the team Gwil knew that she had made the right choice picking this sport. The nervousness from earlier had evaporated. “This year, Jasmine said, that we’re gonna win nationals. And if we win nationals we get really cool jackets! I wanna win, I wanna jacket. Mom won when she was my age.” Brianne said with the last part of her statement being quieter than the rest. Angela was still a hard conversation topic between the father and daughter. 

“I know love. She would be so very proud of you no matter if you cheered or not.” He

said honestly. Angela had been proud of their daughter’s accomplishments since day one. He pulled into the drop off line. “I’m gonna pick you up at two like always. We’re gonna go home do our respective work, then head to practice at five thirty, does that sound good?” He asked as the cars slowly inched up the line. She nodded.

“Can we eat dinner after practice?”

“Sure, honey. But that isn’t until almost eight o’clock.” He said worried it was too late for her. 

“I just want to make sure there is no chance I puke up dinner all over the mats.” She said. Gwilym couldn’t help but chuckle which eased her own tenseness. 

“Okay, but just for tonight.” He said as he pulled up to the curb and dropped her off. He leaned back kissing her cheek. “Have fun, but not too much. Learn but not too much that you’re more bright than your dear ole dad.” He said. 

“Brighter, dad.” She smiled. 

“See you’re already smarter than me.” He smiled as she got out of the car and walked towards the door. He watched her disappear in the sea of back packs before pulling up and out of the line. He began the drive home as he thought about googling some basic information about American cheerleading and the importance of it.  It was going to be an interesting day. 

______________________________________________________________________________

“I think I know everything I need to know love.” He says as he stopped at a red light on the corner of Van Zile Road. It was nearly five thirty and the two were on their way to the practice facility. “I know all about High V’s, low v’s, T’s, Broken T’s. Pretty good for your dad.” He smiled over at her, proud of himself.  Brianne nodded, giving him a similar proud smile. 

“That’s great dad.” She said, holding her cheer bag eagerly in her lap. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail with the green and gold cheer bow she had been given on sign up day. “What about stunts? Half up? Fulls? Liberties? Basket tosses?” She asked interested now in her father’s knowledge of the sport she was taking part in. It made her feel like a proud daughter to know that her father had taken a liking to it.

“Stunts?” His smile turned into a slightly confused look. “Well… maybe love, I don’t know as much as I claimed to.” He chuckled, noticing the red light had turned green. He pushed down gently on the accelerator. 

“I’ll help you. When I learn something, I will teach you it too.” She said. 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” She grinned. “I can’t wait to learn all the things it takes dad! And parents

usually only stay the first practice okay? So please don’t stay for all of them.” 

“Why not? Am I embarrassing?” He teased her. “Is it because I am not the one who brought it on?” He was trying to make her laugh, even though she was eager and ready to cheer. He could see behind her eyes the nervousness that laid there ready to attack the young girl.

“It’s Bring It On dad.” She giggled as Gwil turned onto the road leading into the industrial park. 

“Are we going the right way?” 

“Yeah, Jasmine says that it is by all these warehouses. It's the only place big enough for

all the cheer mats.” She says.  

“You will have to introduce me to Jasmine and Jasmine’s parents.” He said, pulling up to 1942 Swarthmore Ave, he parked his Chevy into an open spot and looked around the lot. He counted about 7 minivans, and 9 SVUs. It was the older red Jeep Cherokee that stuck out to him. It seemed out of place in the sea of stick figure families and my child is an honor roll student stickers that stared back at him from the windows and bumpers of other vehicles. 

Bri got out of the car quickly, moving inside the large warehouse. Gwilym tried to follow her just as quickly. Once he moved through the door, he noticed how huge the place actually was. There were four full sets of cheer mats, nine panels each, in which two of the floor were spring floors to make tumbling easier. There was a large tumble track and foam pit along the back wall. There were two small sets of bleachers inside for the parents to watch and a wall full of cubbies for the teams to put their bags.  

A young man sat at an out of place desk with his headphones in. He pointed to a sign in sheet with the four different teams on them.  Gwilym moved over to the list looking for Brianne Lee, signed his name under the sign in section. He looked up to spot his daughter talking to a shorter dark haired girl who placed their bags in cubbies next to each others. This must be Jasmine, he had heard so much about over the past few days. 

Gwilym moved towards the small sets of bleachers, trying to find an open seat. He could clearly distinguish two different groups as a few more parents came in and separated. On one bleacher sat parents that looked like they stepped out of a J.Crew or a Vineyard Vines advertisements. On the other set of bleachers, sat a few sets of parents. A man in a suit on the phone speaking Russian at a quick pace, an older woman knitting something as she watched the littlest girls on the far back mat. His eyes then moved to a trio of parents, a young man with short dark curly hair was listening intently to the story being told very animatedly by a reddish-brown hair man whose hands almost smacked the young Y/H/C woman in the face. She jerked her head back and started laughing at him. The two men started to join in her laughter, Gwil decided those were his kind of people. He took another step towards them before he was cut out by someone else. 

“Hi Honey. You must be Mr. Lee. I’m Karen Diguimi. McKenna’s mom” A woman with a short cropped haircut that swooped down in the front and then spiked up in the back stood in front of him. She wore a green and gold mustangs t-shirt with the names of her four children on the front over four running horse. In the gold glittering letters it said, ‘Karen’s Corral.’ Gwil gave her a polite smile  as he nodded. 

“Yes, I am Gwilym. Brianne’s father.” He shook her hand that she had jutted out at him. 

“Oh you’re British!” Her heavily mascaraed eyes went wide as the smile broadened 

across her face. A light blush came to Gwil’s cheeks as his accent was always getting him more attention than he wanted. 

“Yes ma’am I am.” He said. 

“Well, that is just incredible honey! You must come sit with us.” She gripped his arm with

her green and gold nails pulling him away from the parents he wanted to sit with.   

“Umm, okay.” He politely followed. She sat on the front row of the bleachers, pulling him down to introduce him to the Vineyard Vines and J. Crew parents. 

“This is John, Melissa, Linda, Frank, Tracy, and Vanessa. Guys, this is Gwilym. He is Brianne’s father.” She said pointing to each parent as she said their name. He nodded with each, shaking their hands. “This is just some of us, with some many kids on the team, most of us car pool. We could get you in on it if you want.” 

“Maybe. I’ll, uh, let you know.” He said kindly. He looked over onto the blue cheer mat, watching his daughter stretch next to Jasmine and a young auburn haired boy. He smiled as she made friends and he turned his attention back to Karen who had launched into a talk about a fundraiser for the competition buses.

“Wall gets those nice buses for their kids, I am just saying. They have won nationals three times over the last five years. It has to be the buses, so I want to come up with some kick booty ideas to raise money for the kids to take those charter buses.”

“Oh what about chocolate bars?” Tracy said. A few other parents threw out some ideas like tupperware, donuts, or pasta shaped like little footballs. 

“No, they never sell that well. How about candles that smell like pumpkin spice or vanilla marshmallow? It is almost fall and that would be perfect. We can even include the holiday ones. They make perfect Christmas gifts for your friends and neighbors.” Karen smiled knowing this was her winning idea.

“Shouldn’t we be asking those parents as well?” Gwil said as he looked over his shoulder at the three parents who talking about something on the woman’s phone. How Gwilym longed to be over there with them instead of here with these parents. 

“Oh them. No no, they won’t have any good ideas.” Karen pursed her lips in slight disgust. 

“What’s wrong with them?” He chuckled looking at her. He clearly saw no problem in the set of them. 

“There is nothing wrong with them per say but they are different from the rest of us.” She said losing the digested tone but keeping an air of rudeness about her. “Rami is probably the most mellow of the bunch. Sometimes he makes kind of crazy faces and it doesn’t weird me out as much as it did but its still odd. His wife Lucy thinks she’s better than us because she’s not from here. We rarely see them together because they have another daughter who plays soccer on the other side of town.” Karen said dishing what she thought was dirt to Gwil. He just thought Rami and Lucy seemed like good parents and it was probably the other way around about Karen thinking she was better than Lucy. 

“Oh okay.” Gwil shifted a bit from her, slowly trying to make his getaway. The woman sitting with Rami and the other man looked over at Gwil, noticing his physical discomfort. She moved up off her seat and slowly maneuvered off the bleachers. 

“Joe is divorced and his son is the only boy on the squad. He doesn’t like to fund raise and he doesn’t wear the team parent shirts Tracy and Melissa make.” Karen said. Joe and Rami watched the woman move in front of Gwil, holding out her hand. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” The young woman smiled, as Gwil placed his larger hand in hers and shook it. “Karen.” She pulled her hand away looking at the mother. “Love the shirt.” Gwil tried not to laugh in Karen’s face as it turned fifteen different shades of red as Y/N smiled still. Oh, these were people Gwil wanted to hang out with. Angela would have loved Y/N. 

“Gwilym.” 

“Rad name. So what were you two talking about?” 

“Oh nothing.” Karen quipped. 

“Selling candles for bus fare.” Gwil said. 

“Well, that is interesting. I wouldn’t mind selling a candle or two.” Y/N said. Gwil could hear the two men on the other bleacher snickering.  This caused him to smile more. 

“I haven’t decided  if this what we are going to do yet. But I will let you know.” Karen said with dripping sweetness. 

“Why don’t you do that?” Y/N said back with the same sweetness. “Gwil, if you want, there is plenty of room on our bleachers. You can join us if its too full over here.” She smiled genuinely at the man before moving back to Joe and Rami. Both whom high fived her as she sat back down.  

“Y/N is one more snide remark away from me telling Coach Nancy. She doesn’t have a child on the team.”

“What? Why is she here than?” Gwil looked back at Karen after watching Y/N smile and push her hair back from her face. It was the first time in a long time, Gwil had looked at a woman like he had looked at Angela when they first met. Now Karen was stopping him from looking at Y/N all together. 

“Well her niece is on the team. She is her legal guardian. Her brother and her sister-in-law died and left Jasmine to Y/N. God, we miss Nick, he would have never let his sister talk to me like that.” Karen said with no sympathy for the sister or the child. Gwil seriously doubted that she missed the man at all. 

“That kind of makes her a team parent, she’s a parent to her niece.” So Y/N was Jasmine’s aunt, that fact made a small part of Gwil’s heart spark for a mere moment in a place that had long been dark since Angela passed as he knew Y/N would be around more due to their children’s friendship. “You know Karen, I really want to be involved with Bri’s team because I love my daughter and I want to fully support her endeavors, but I think I am going to sit with them for now.” Gwil stood up and moved to the other set of bleachers. “Can I sit?” He asked as the smile on Y/N face grew. 

“Of course. Gwilym, this is Joe and Rami.” Y/N introduced him, two more hand shakes down. 

“Rami, Joe, this is Gwilym. He’s new to the squad, his daughter is Brianne.” She said. 

“Welcome to the mustangs, we’ve got spirit. My daughter is the dark curly haired one, Selma.” Rami said smiling. Gwil took note of her as he found a spot next to Y/N. He sat beside her as Joe pointed to the auburn haired boy.

“Welcome to the team man. That’s Joey, he’s my boy.” He smiled the same proud father smile that Gwil knew all too well. “It is nice to have new faces not being sucked in by Karen and her cronies.” Joe added, patting Gwil’s arm. This made Gwilym laugh. 

“Well she definitely tried. Complimented my accent, told me what a bunch of misfits you all were.”

“Aw, how sweet she’s thinking of us.” Y/N said. “Just be careful she might try to seduce you with the promise of nonfat vanilla pumpkin frappuccinos next.” 

“Misfits? I prefer the term outcasts but I guess that is all ‘I was homecoming queen and won’t let anyone forget’ can come up with.” Joe said. 

“Karen and him went to high school together.” Rami said. “She likes to be the homecoming queen for every trunk-n-treat that the town puts together.”

“It was years ago, find a better costume.” Joe softly exclaimed between them.

“No because I would like to speak to the manager is not a viable costume, Joseph.” 

“She was a bitch then and she’s a bitch now.” Joe said. “And I mean that with no ill will towards dogs.” He added. Gwil laughed more, turning his attention to his daughter who was currently in what he could assume was a stunt group. The conversation died down between the parents as they watched their respective child. 

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” She looked at Gwil. 

“What is Bri doing? I don’t know much about cheerleading.” He admitted. 

“Oh so she’s basing the stunt, which means once they get the flyer up in the air, that’s

Jasmine actually, Bri will hold her foot so that she is balanced and won’t fall.” 

“Flyer, base...the girl in the back?” He said trying to add more information to his

cheerleading knowledge card to impress Bri later. 

“She’s the backspot, she holds the flyer’s ankles so that she is more stable. Bri is pretty

good for someone who has never cheered before.” Y/N said. “Jasmine hasn’t stopped talking about her since school started. I’ve been waiting to meet you.” There was that small spark again in Gwil’s heart that quickly died down.   

“Yes! I hear about Jasmine daily, she’s definitely Bri’s best mate.” He said. Y/N smiled as she took the next hour and a half, explaining the different kinds of stunts they were trying. First with a half, then a full, and then a liberty. It was true, after he understood the mechanism of it all, that Bri was a sturdy base and quick to recover if the flyer moved. 

Gwil watched his daughter look happier than he had seen her in a long time. Maybe it was the connection to her mother or being on the squad with her friends, it was definitely worth the money spent on the cheer clothes, the sign up fees, competition fees, everything. If Gwil had to deal with Karen and her cronies every day till Bri was eighteen than so be it, if he knew she would smile like that. As the practice came to an end, Bri ran off the mat to her father. 

He scooped her up, hugging her close before putting her back down. 

“You did amazing love!” He said. 

“Oh thank you dad! I had a lot of fun.” She moved to her cubbie grabbing her bag. Jasmine moved next to her, whispering into Bri’s ear. 

“She looked like she had a blast.” Y/N said moving and standing next to him. 

“She did and thanks for your help. You know a lot about this stuff.” 

“Anytime and I was a mustang myself until I joined drama club in high school.” She said. Y/N was a bit younger than Gwil but maybe she did know his late wife, not that he told her about Angela.  “Oh hey, I was going to ask if maybe you wanted to join our carpool. Sometimes I take Joey and Selma home, and vice versa. Just in case you want a night in or if you’re busy with your significant other.”

“Oh I’m not…” He started, he wasn’t ready to bring up the widowship yet. He put his smile back on as he nodded.  “Yeah that sounds fantastic.” 

“It’s just our kids, no Karen, no crazy cheer parents.” Y/N said. “I’ll give you my number so that we can work out all the details.”  He nodded as Bri tapped his arm. 

“Dad?”

“Yeah love?”

“Jasmine and Ms. Y/L/N were going to get pizza. Can we go with them please?” Brianne battered her eyelashes at him, putting on a small pleading pout. 

“Yeah please Mr. Lee?” Jasmine chimed in with her sweet voice. 

“I don’t know. Is it okay with you, Y/N if we tag along?” He looked at the woman. 

“Oh yeah, totally. We’re going to Squan Tavern, best thin crust in town.” Y/N smiled. 

“Awesome, lead the way and we will follow.” Gwil said. Brianne and Jasmine exclaimed happily as they moved out of the warehouse. Chattering about the things they had learned that night and what was to come in their practices. Gwil walked behind Y/N out of the building as she turned to him. 

“See you two in a few.” She smiled, taking Jasmine’s hand leading the girl across the asphalt. She headed to the older red Jeep Cherokee in the parking lot. As Gwil stood at his car door watching them he smiled. In that moment as she helped her niece into the car and then got in herself, Gwilym knew that maybe cheerleading was going to be good for both of them. Maybe even small sparks of gold could make the green shine again. 

#green and gold #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym x reader #gwilym lee imagines #Gwilym Lee #bohemian rhapsody #midsomer murders #reader #ben hardy x reader #joe mazello x reader #rami malek #lucy boynton #joe mazzello #ben hardy

[bewareofchris]

Public Relations 12/??

R atm | Alec Hardy/Dr. Bill Masters | Broadchurch, Masters of Sex | Strong language, eventual sexual situations

“The fact that Alec Hardy was not currently, had not ever, and did not want to date the American sex research did not seem very important at all to the town of Broadchurch.  They did what they had always done with a little bit of juicy gossip: they made a spectacle of it.”

<< prev

Bill had spent the day working on convincing himself that he needed to be packing.  Betty had called him the night before to remind him that he did have to come back.  She’d sounded tired, and lonely, breathing into the phone about how things were going to get better for everyone.

That was the worst thing about Betty.  Life had done its best to beat her down, and she’d just kept getting back up.  She pushed and prodded, and shoved when she had to.  And sometimes she called him when he didn’t answer the phone to leave long voicemails reminding him of his travel details.

Betty hadn’t said anything about where Virginia was, or how Libby was doing.  She’d only mentioned that business was still booming and that their present legal troubles didn’t seem like they were going to stop anyone from coming.  (Maybe she meant it as a dirty pun, but there was no humor in her voice.)

Just then, cocooned in the safety of a place that hardly knew him, Bill didn’t want to go back.  He didn’t want to be reminded of how much it hurt to know he’d lost Virginia.  To cope with the grief and the guilt of what he’d done to Libby.  He didn’t want to have to figure out where he was going to live, or how his business was going to continue to operate.  

And oh-God, what was he going to say to his children?  What was he going to do when John looked at him with his sad, old-man eyes and his frowning mouth.  The boy wouldn’t ask any questions because he’d never needed anything explained. 

Bill never had to deal with any of it if he never went back.

That’s what he told himself, as he kicked his clothes into piles and he thought about shoving it all into his suitcase.  It’s what he told himself while he ate potato chips and lunch meat for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  

But time didn’t stop just because he’d wished it would.  The day passed, and he ran out of food, and snacks, and energy.  He was all alone, sitting on the end of the bed, watching Alec Hardy’s haggard face on the news announcing that the killer had been apprehended.

There was something to be admired in that sort of determination.  Hardy’s stubbornness wasn’t self-sacrifice.  It was penance of some sort.  He stood in front of the cameras looking as if he’d lost something when any other man in his shoes might have felt a sense of victory.  No, Hardy had the eyes of a man who had held a child in his hands and wished like hell anyone else would step up and take her away.  

What victory could you take from finding the man who killed a child?

Bill’s suitcase was staring at him from across the room, reminding him that the world waited, and that no matter how fun the distractions had been, Bill didn’t belong here.  

--

Hardy had walked Miller out, or at very least as far as she would let him.  She’d stopped him at the steps, like there was anyone in the hotel that didn’t already know she’d come to see him.  Nothing could be gained by arguing with Miller; she needed time and space and some sense of control.  It didn’t take anything on his part to give it to her.

So he stayed at the end of the hall and watched her head down the stairs.  Hardy found himself leaning back against the wall, staring at Bill’s door, thinking that he absolutely nothing that could even be misinterpreted as dinner.  Thinking, the invitation itself had probably been nothing more than an act of kindness.  People were always doing that when they found out about his condition; some power bigger than themselves compelled them to be nice to him.

The same people that had called him shitface for two months had spent the day looking at him like they were figuring out what sort of arrangement they planned to send to his widow.  (He would have a widow, but only because the divorce wasn’t quite finalized.)

There was a big, empty hotel bed waiting for him.  There was the intolerable silence of the night to entertain him as he laid in his bed.  There was a parade of failures to remind him that no amount of success was going to change how the last one had turned out.

Hardy knocked on Bill’s door with nothing to offer by his exhausted body.  Bill answered wearing his stretched-white undershirt and his long-white-sleep pants.  He didn’t say a word as he pulled the door open wide enough to let Hardy pass and closed it behind him with a soft click.  

“I was just watching some,” Bill squinted at the TV, “movie, I think.” 

“I didn’t have any food in my room,” Hardy said.  He didn’t know where to put his hands.  He didn’t know where to keep any of his limbs.  He was just skeleton in a shirt that didn’t used to be this much bigger than him and a pair of pants held on with a very tight belt.  

“I saw the news,” Bill said.

Hardy wished he hadn’t.  He wished there was one safe place in this miserable little town.  He didn’t want to talk about who had done it, or how, or why.  He didn’t want to think about how he’d eaten dinner at the table of the man who killed Danny Latimer.  

“My secretary called,” Bill said instead.  His hands were rubbing together like he was nervous, like he was used to having something to fidget with.  “She said I had to come back soon, because people keep coming at the office.”  He was very proud of the joke.

Hardy snorted.  He scratched his fingers into his hair.  “I don’t know why I’m here.”  But he did; he knew exactly why he was here.  He glanced backward at the unmade bed and then over at Bill.

If it were such a disaster, the way Bill’s eyes widened just enough to be afraid would have been funnier.  Hardy had quite the habit of horrifying his potential bed partners lately.  “Alec...” Bill started to say.

“Forget it,” Hardy said.

“No, wait,” Bill rushed to the side, slid his body between Hardy and the door.  “You can stay, if you want to stay.  But we can’t,” Bill’s finger wagged between them.  He was a professional sex researching struggling to spit out, “have sex.”

Hardy didn’t even want sex.  He didn’t want the trouble and the mess of it.  He just wanted there to be someone beside him in bed.  “I didn’t want sex,” he said.  He sagged back onto the bed, sitting just on the edge with his hands laying against the rumpled sheets.  “I moved out of my house after I found out my wife was cheating on me.  I haven’t--all this started after that.”  He motioned at his own chest.

“Touch is important,” Bill said.

That was what Hardy missed.  He missed being touched, he missed being held.  He missed the warmth of not being alone.  “You don’t have to be kind,” he said, just to say that he had said it.

“I miss it too,” Bill said.  He didn’t linger on the thought, or ask for any answers.  He just shuffled to turn off all the lamps except the one by the bed.  He situated himself on the bed behind Hardy and said, “is there something you like to watch on TV?”

Hardy was an idiot, but he kicked off his shoes and pulled his legs up onto the bed.  He laid in a curl on the bed, with his head resting on a folded-over pillow just next to Bill’s thigh.  “Anything’s fine,” he said.

Bill’s hand rested on his back lightly, like he wasn’t sure.  “Let me know if you change your mind.”  

Someone had taught Bill how to rest his hands on their body.  Someone had encouraged him to rub his thumb in circles.  It had all the tenderness of a lover, all the familiarity of someone that loved you.

Hardy closed his eyes when Bill’s fingers started threading through his hair.  He thought, he couldn’t stay, and he didn’t want to move.  

next >>

@it-is-ineffable, @marvelmisha, @e3105eb, @may-darling, @bigleosis, @jiffry6969 

#illogical husbands #alec hardy #bill masters #grouchy bastards in love #public relations: the fic

[atlaese]

Yeah! it's pretty good, they kinda show em off the force so it was nice.

I'm actually not comfortable with anything ever, thanks for asking lol. 😂😂😂 But you know after some point it's like what is the re to hide?

Pizza definitely. Pretzels as well. Sausage pretzels maybe. I'm a baker so he will have to become a dessert boy if he is not. No questions basked but yeah he doesnt seem the desset type to me either.

Yeah all journalists are annoying tho, source journalist ex friend haha. It's when she decides to stick as law assistant that turly develop s her. After the show I bet ahe went to study law she seems determined.

Natashas background is truly awful and she is traumatized in the comics for ten years now she has been brainwashed and hasn't found her memories yet I mean wtf.

Westworld jeeesus, first season i liked but the other two??????? Zero continuity. Hmmmm I like Elektra of course, for a while she was my only one. She has such sixk fight moves and in the comics she is not a villain you know.

Hmmmmm, I truly don't know. I liked Karen's ex boss who died, stick is cool aswell. The Chinese old lady lol. Man they were all creepy. I remember vividly their storyline from the defenders becaus eit was mostly them teaming up to help matt. Of course the glue who keeps the wprld together!

look at this cootie patootie <3 we're here matt!!

yes, i totally agree!! i loved her as an law assistant! even though she had no experience whatsoever, she did great! as a journalist she just sticks her nose where it doesn't belong and like... its her job but then also its so annoying ajbezfe. h

omg you're a baker too!! aaah!! no you'd let him taste all the stuff you make, and because it's so good he can't help himself but become a dessert person <3. i also think bc he's so active he needs lots of food? so a dessert every once in a while can't hurt right? (thats what i tell myself 😳).

yes, i totally agree!! i loved her as an law assistant! even though she had no experience whatsoever, she did great! as a journalist she just sticks her nose where it doesn't belong and like... its her job but then also its so annoying ajbezfe. oh. i'm sorry you had a karen friend like that (no pun intended!!) toxic friendships can be really hard i feel! especially to get out because cutting friends is way more difficult than breaking up (although ive never had a bf so i wouldn't know, just speaking generally!).

i saw black widow and oh. poor nat. she deserved so, so, so much better. my heart aches for her. (it shouldve been clint it shouldve been clint it shouldve been clint it shouldve been clint...)

i couldn't even finish the first season, like nothing was happening :( i was kinda sad though zfhuhezjf.

ooh yes the ex-boss! he was so nice and i was so sad he died! stick is cool but i also wanna kick his ass for being such a bad father figure. it was not his job whatsoever, but like... man. you couldve had a little more love for them? just a tad!h

ooh yes the ex-boss! he was so nice and i was so sad he died! stick is cool but i also wanna kick his ass for being such a bad father figure. it was not his job whatsoever, but like... man. you couldve had a little more love for them? just a tad!

ooh now im kinda excited to see the defenders! i'll try to sneak in an episode when i've got the time!!

#arianswers #matt murdock dissertation

[nitewrighter]

Can we get some Bunnyribbit content please and thank you

…Fairytale AU, anyone?

—

Once upon a time there was a princess named Hana who rode atop a great armored steed she lovingly called Meka. She was famed for her skill in combat and much beloved by the people for her fierce spirit and joyful heart. Of all these people, no one loved her more than a humble bard named Lúcio.

 Though with his great talents, Lúcio could have easily taken his place as a singer to kings, he had long ago decided that his music belonged to the common folk, and he preferred an open blue sky over his head more than any castle. Still though, he would find himself drawn to the jousting matches where the Princess Hana would compete. He would watch as the enemy lances shattered and splintered against her sea-green shield, and the scalloped edges of the pink caparison of her horse fluttered as it galloped. Her skill and valor would leave him speechless and awed in the daylight, but by night he would write out pages and pages of music inspired by her, for she was the song of his heart.

Eventually these songs, so pleasing to the ear, would be sung throughout the kingdom, and leave the Princess in a wonder as to where they were coming from. 

One day, however, the bard emerged from his room in the inn to find there was no singing in the streets. The next jousting match had been cancelled, and he was determined to find out why. He went to the castle and found a long line of knights there, and politely asked what was going on.

“The princess has been captured,” one of the knights replied, “But sunset yesterday, she lead her horse to water, and sat down to rest herself. While she was unhorsed she was stolen away by a cruel sorceress.”

“Then I must rescue her,” the words fell out of Lúcio.

“You?” the knight laughed and poked Lúcio in the chest with a gauntleted hand, causing Lúcio to flinch slightly “With no armor? No horse? Naught but the clothes and lute on your back and that silly feathered hat upon your head? Go home and write your verses, bard, sing a sad song, and leave this to a real adventurer.”

But Lúcio was not to be deterred. By night he stole into the royal stables and found the mare Meka, who bucked and whinnied in nervousness at the sight of a stranger. Lúcio quickly took the lute off of his back and plucked a few soothing notes, easing the animal down.

“I wish to rescue your mistress,” he said to Meka, “But I need your help to find her. I know you let no one ride you but her, but know that she is the song of my heart, and I cannot rest until she is safe.”

The horse, eased by his words and music, turned her flank to him, and he swung up onto her saddle. With the lightest kick to her sides the horse took off like lightning. The guards of the castle raced after them, but no horse could compare to the speed of Meka. They easily outpaced the city guard and rode out into the wilderness, and rode day and knight into the lands of the sorceress. Sometimes he would play his lute from the horse’s back, and as if by some powerful magic, the horse would run more swiftly, joy and fury in its heart. They rode to the edge of the Sorceress’s dread realm, where the sky overhead was gray and the grasses underfoot were dead and dried, and there they reached a bridge. A single troll, massive, bleeding from countless cuts, wearing a pig-like mask and carrying a cruel bloody hook stood at the side of the bridge, the bodies of many felled knights littered around him. He wheezed from his own wounds.

“If you wish to die against my hook, by all means, step forward,” said the troll, coughing from exhaustion.

Lúcio took a deep breath and swung off the horse. The troll was clearly near death but not about to show it, and certainly not unable to kill him.

“I seek no fight,” said the bard, “But, if you let me pass, I can heal your wounds.”

“You would do that?” said the troll.

“I’m no barber-surgeon, this lute has been gifted to me by the fae,” said Lúcio.

The troll sighed. “If you are lying I will cut your heart from your chest and wear your entrails as my belt.”

“…Fair enough,” said Lúcio. With that he began to play. Note by note the bleeding wounds all over the troll’s belly closed and the great brute gave a sigh of relief.

“You may pass,” said the troll, and Lúcio nodded, swung back onto Meka and rode on.

 They rode on and on across the gray lands, until they reached a cave. A tall spindly goblin stood next to to the mouth of the cave, eagerly various powders into his campfire and giggling with glee at the shifting colors of the flames.

“This is the swiftest way to the castle of the sorceress, isn’t it?” said Lúcio.

“Yes, but if you wish to pass here, you must answer my riddles,” said the goblin.

“All right,” said Lúcio.

“What kind of tree do you hold in your hand?” said the goblin.

“A palm,” said Lúcio.

“All right that one was easy. That was me testing you. The real riddle is… what is taller when it’s young, but shorter when its ol–”

“Candle,” said Lúcio.

“I didn’t finis—I mean you’re right but—Ooooh!” The goblin shook his fists, “All right. Time for the really difficult one. It cannot be seen, cannot be felt, cannot be heard, cannot—”

“Dark,” said Lúcio.

“You can’t just–How did you—You bloody cheat!” The goblin spat.

“…I’m a bard,” said Lúcio with a shrug, “We work with puns a lot.”

The goblin snarled and screamed and railed and stamped his feet and Lúcio stood quite patiently until the goblin was finished. 

“Fine,” the goblin huffed, “You may pass. This cave is the swiftest way to the sorceress, but no one said you would survive the cave.” 

“Okay, uh…thanks,” said Lúcio, urging Meka forward into the cave.

The cave was a fairly straightforward tunnel, but then Lúcio began to notice it was growing paler and paler with cobwebs.

“This is… concerning…” Lucio started to say when a spider the size of cat dropped down from the ceiling and Meka whinnied and bucked him from her saddle. He flew forward and found himself stuck in a sticky web that covered up the whole of the the tunnel of the cave as Meka paced and whinnied in alarm.

“You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, singer?” a whispery voice came and a creature with the upper torso of a woman, but the lower torso of a spider crawled down from the ceiling. Lúcio’s hand strained toward his lute.

“I know of you, bard,” said the spider queen, “My children spin their cobwebs in every corner of every home. All have heard of Lúcio. All have heard his music. Such a shame the song must end.”

As her fangs drew closer and closer to his throat, Lúcio finally managed to take ahold of his lute and tear it free from the webbing. In desperation he strummed a few sad chords. The saddest, sweetest chords he could. The spider queen withdrew from him with a hiss. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Lúcio desperately strummed with all his heart. He would not permit himself to weep in despair in front of the spider queen, so he let his lute weep for him. If he died here, he could never rescue the princess. He could never sing again. He could never bring joy to the people or watch the wind blow through the lovely brown hair of Princess Hana. He mourned all of this with every note he plucked on his lute, and the spider queen, a widow with a heart long frozen over by cruelty and wickedness, found herself weeping. She wept and wept from all seven of her red eyes. With a swipe of one of her eight legs, she cut him loose from her web.

“Go,” she said with a snarl and a sob, “Go!”

Lúcio whistled and Meka galloped forward. He swung up onto the horse and rode out of the cave as fast as he could.

Now with the the troll and the goblin and the spider queen behind him, he rode on fearlessly. Then a little fearfully. Then very fearfully. Then he was absolutely terrified, but the important point was, he was still riding. He rode and rode as the sorceress’s tower grew larger and larger. He stopped about a hundred feet from the tower. 

“We… probably shouldn’t just charge in,” he said, glancing down at his unarmored tunic. He drew his lute from his back and started playing a lullaby, then lightly spurred meka forward. He played the lullaby more and more sweetly as the horse moved toward the tower. The archers of the tower drifted off to sleep as soon as the bard fell within earshot, and still Lúcio played his sweet song as Meka trotted ever forward. Finally they reached the great dark door of the tower, and Lúcio swung off of the horse. Still strumming the lullaby on his lute, he braced his back against the door and pushed it open with his feet. He entered the tower and found countless goblin soldiers asleep on the stairs, and then he saw a figure, a girl clad in blue and pink and white hurrying down the stairs with a dagger in hand. Their eyes met and Lúcio felt his heart melt into his stomach.

“Are all the guards asleep because of you?” asked the princess.

Lúcio could only dumbly nod, stunned by her beauty.

She huffed a sigh of relief and continued going down the stairs of the tower. “Thank you,” she said, “I could not have made it this far if not for you.” She squinted her eyes a little. “You don’t look like a typical knight,” her eyes flicked to Meka, “Is… is that my horse?”

“I..um… I only borrowed it,” said Lúcio.

“Who are you?” said the princess, furrowing her brow.

“Me?” Lúcio rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m just a humble singer, your majesty.”

“A singer?” said Princess Hana, “A singer made it past the troll and the goblin and the spider queen?” she glanced down at his person, “Without so much as a sword?”

“Should…should I have had a sword?” said Lúcio, now feeling quite embarrassed at his lack of armor, shield and sword.

Hana’s mouth dropped open and a huff of disbelief escaped her. “I don’t know what to make of you,” she said with a slight smile.

Lúcio gestured at her horse, “You can make what you will of me later. For now I think we should leave.”

The princess nodded and hurried toward him, but then a clear voice rang out from the top of the tower. “And just where, my dear, do you think you’re going?”

Hana brandished her dagger at the sorceress and . “We’re leaving,” she said, her brow furrowed, “You have no power over me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” said the sorceress with a flourish of her arms. A beam of magic was hurtling toward them both. Without thinking Lúcio shoved the princess out of the way and took the full brunt of the beam.

“No!” said Hana, but it was too late. Lúcio disappeared in a puff of smoke, his clothes falling in a heap, his lute landing with a discordant bounce, and his cavalier hat drifting sadly to the ground.

 In a fit of rage the princess threw her dagger, and the sorceress, still exhausted from putting so much of her fury into her spell, caught the dagger in her heart. The sorceress stumbled back and collapsed on the stairs dead.

Hana fell to her knees next to the pile of clothes, weeping. “I’m sorry,” she said between tears and sobs, “I’m so sorry.” She slumped to the ground but then heard the soft rustle of paper and sat up, her eyes still tearstrained. She sifted through the pile of clothes and took out a sheet of paper covered in music notes and lyrics. She sifted a bit more and there was another, and another. She hummed out the chords written on the papers and her eyes widened.

“All those songs…” she said, her voice still creaking with suppressed sobs, “They were from you.”

There came a squeaky little croak from under the feathered hat next to Hana and she perked up and turned to look at it. She lifted the hat and there was a small emerald-green frog. It croaked again and she scooped it up in her hands. “All those songs were from you,” she said again, tears spilling from her eyes. Without a second thought she kissed the emerald-green frog. There was a great burst of green and yellow light, a shower of sparks, and the bard returned to human form, his face cupped in her hands.

“Princess…” he said softly, and then he glanced down at himself. He quickly grabbed his trousers and covered himself with them, “Princess! Sorry! Sorry!”

Hana just giggled and covered her eyes with her hands as he quickly pulled his clothes back on. “It’s fine,” she said, pulling her hands away from her eyes as she saw the bard still nervously lacing up his shirt, “It’s fine,” she said with a smile.

“We should…” the bard cleared his throat and gestured at her horse, “We should get you back.”

The princess curtsied to him. “Thank you for your valor, brave bard,” she said, kissing him on the cheek as she walked over to Meka, “Just one thing: I’m driving.” 

The bard smiled and nodded.

With that they clambered up onto Meka and rode off towards home.

#bunnyribbit

[aion-rsa]

The Last Kingdom’s Historical Advisor on Accuracy: ‘It’s a Constant Compromise’

https://ift.tt/2JkZSfd

After completing his PhD in Early Medieval History, Ryan Lavelle picked up a novel dramatising the events of King Alfred’s early reign. The Last Kingdom by Bernard Cornwell was the first in what was then known as the Saxon Stories saga. It told the story of Uhtred, a fictional 9th century Northumbrian warrior raised by Vikings who, despite a conflicted relationship with the king of Wessex, became Alfred’s military tactician. Lavelle lapped it up.

In the following years, Cornwell published another, and then another and another. Lavelle read them all, delighting in their inclusion of real historical events and use of a central character whose divided loyalties allowed a perspective into the very different worlds of Saxon and Dane.

“There were certain things in the novels, details that made me think ‘this isn’t quite right’, but I was impressed with Cornwell’s engagement with historical records and places,” he tells Den of Geek over Zoom, pointing out his editions of the Saxon Stories on the bookshelves behind him.

A decade after reading the first of the books, Lavelle was contacted by fellow historian Dame Janet ‘Jinty’ Nelson, to ask if he’d be interested in advising on a new historical TV drama. Filming was due to take place in Hungary, explained Professor Nelson, and she wasn’t keen to travel. The drama, she said, was an adaptation of a set of novels by “some chap called Cornwell”. 

Bernard Cornwell makes a cameo in The Last Kingdom season four

Lavelle laughs at the memory. “To me, Bernard Cornwell was a major figure in my consciousness! He wasn’t just ‘some chap called Cornwell’, this was the Bernard Cornwell. I was enormously excited. I still have an element of that initial excitement of thinking that this is a world that I’ve tried to inhabit in my mind, and it’s being paid enough attention to be able to put flesh on the bones of characters who’ve been dead for 1000 years.”

Six years later, and Lavelle has served as historical advisor across five seasons of The Last Kingdom, the hit Netflix drama that Cornwell’s book series has since been renamed for, which plans to start filming its fifth season in late 2020. On set, he’s felt the heat of a burning Viking hall and heard the battle cries and clashing swords of medieval warriors. Off set, he’s used the show as a talking point for undergraduates at the University of Winchester, looking at how its representation of events differs from historical evidence.

When that happens on The Last Kingdom, says Lavelle, it’s the choice of creators who are informed about the historical context but are choosing to serve the drama. “I have to be pedantic. I have to let them know when things aren’t right, but they have to make the decision, and they make those decisions from a perspective of being informed of the actual history.”

‘The historical clock moves faster than the clock in the drama’

Lavelle found his job relatively straightforward on The Last Kingdom’s first season. It retold the events of King Alfred’s reign from around 871 to the Battle of Edington (or Ethandun as it’s styled in the series) “reasonably closely, with a certain amount of licence.” That licence commonly involved condensing the timeline to cover more story over a shorter period. “In the first year of Alfred’s reign there were lots of different battles against the Vikings and in the series, that basically gets boiled down to two encounters.”

The most recent season took more liberties with the timeline. “Edward the Elder’s reign, on which the fourth season is based, was from 899-900 through to 924. Some of the things mentioned in season four actually happened quite late in Edward’s reign, so you’ve got the battle of Tettenhall, which took place in 910. Aethelred, the ealdorman of the Mercians, died in 911. Aethelflaed receiving the submission of the men of York didn’t happen until in 918… there’s a lot of things they’re having to change.”

Read more

TV

The Last Kingdom: How Historically Accurate is the Netflix Drama?

By Louisa Mellor

TV

The Last Kingdom Renewed for Season 5

By Louisa Mellor

There’s a very good reason for the drama to condense these events: the age of its cast. If the series stuck slavishly to the historical chronology, its characters would have had to have aged almost two decades over the course of the last eight episodes. According to a lay-person’s timeline like this one, that would leave lead character Uhtred (played by 37-year-old Alexander Dreymon) nearing his seventies by the finale, which clearly wouldn’t do.

“You’ll have noticed that Alex Dreymon’s still a good looking young man,” laughs Lavelle, “so we can’t push Uhtred’s age on too far! The historical clock moves on faster than the clock in the drama.”

For Lavelle, the most startling change to historical chronology in season four is the continued existence of King Alfred’s widow Aelswith, played by Eliza Butterworth. “Historically, she’s meant to be dead by 903! But she’s such a great character that I would have been very sad if she wasn’t there in season four. Aelswith, as a device, allows the family tensions to play out. If she wasn’t there, it would be difficult to get that to work.”

After being poisoned by the scheming Lord Aethelhelm in the season four finale, Aelswith was looking a bit peaky the last time we saw her, I point out. Lavelle laughs. “She’s not looking well at the end, no indeed! Maybe this is the historical clock catching up with her!”

‘You can’t have something as momentous as the Black Death and it not have a long-term affect’

Season four included a storyline that felt particularly timely when it arrived on Netflix in April 2020 mid-coronavirus pandemic. A deadly sickness was passing through the kingdoms, cutting a swathe through villages. The original idea from the writers was to portray it as “a full on bubonic plague,” says Lavelle, but that was dialled back for the series.

“Where the story eventually ended up, it was a small-scale epidemic in a confined area rather than being the Black Death, which would have totally changed the storyline. Bubonic plague happened much later, in the Late Middle Ages. You can’t have something as momentous as the Black Death and have it not affect life for the next fifty years, but the way the story was panning out, it only affected the drama over a short period. I hope I had some influence in this, because historically, that would have been a big change.”

Lavelle was able to reconcile himself to the sickness plot because there had been an outbreak of a plague in the period, just 10 years earlier, at the end of Alfred’s reign. “It was a case of history catching up with the storyline a little bit.”

‘We always have to play with history to some extent’

As an Early Medieval historian, Lavelle is accustomed to using his imagination to bridge gaps between what is and isn’t known from historical sources. “The evidence for our period is limited so we always have to play with history to some extent.” The Last Kingdom does the same, he says. It’s by no means a documentary, but demonstrates “a respectful acquaintance with the history of the period, a tip of the hat to historical events, you could say!”

Part of Lavelle’s advisory role involves making the Medieval character and place names accessible to a modern audience. He researches the names and spends a few hours practicing the pronunciations before making recordings that are interpreted by a dialogue coach and taught to the cast.

“People who are real experts in Old English would probably have me over a barrel in pronouncing them wrong, but it’s no use having the names beautifully pronounced in Old English or Old Norse if the viewers are constantly baffled by them. There are necessary compromises to get these names over the line and to allow viewers to talk about them too. There are constant discussions about what form the names should take.”

Lavelle admires the series’ place name captions, which appear in the original language before transitioning to the modern version. “Eoforwic is one of the most difficult, because there’s the old Norse name of ‘Jorvik’ which became the predominant place name form. What appears in historical documents is often a form of the name that’s been affected by its role in a sentence of historical record. In Old English there are particular forms of words according to what they’re doing in a sentence. What I’ve tried to do, in my imperfect Old English, is convert those to the nominative version of the place name in order that it reflects a version of the historical place name. We do think about these things,” he laughs, “they’re not just plucked off the back of an envelope!”

If he had his way, he laughs, the series would use the Old English letter ‘Thorn’, but it’s a matter of accessibility. “It’s a constant compromise. These things are… oh dear, I just fell into a pun,” he laughs, “a thorn in the side!”

Author Bernard Cornwell describes his books as a gateway into the study of real history, and Lavelle hopes the TV series is the same. On that note, outside of Cornwell’s novels, where might fans go looking for a hint of what’s to come in season five?

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

“It’ll be based on books nine and ten – The Warriors of the Storm and The Flame Bearer. Uhtred is charged with training King Edward’s first-born son Aethelstan as a warrior, so Aethelstan is one thing. Read a little bit more about Edward. If you do the homework of looking at the historical sources then it could allow the possibility of seeing some of the faces that might appear on screen! History has its own spoilers!”

Read more from Professor Lavelle on The Last Kingdom at History Extra.

The post The Last Kingdom’s Historical Advisor on Accuracy: ‘It’s a Constant Compromise’ appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[artificialqueens]

You Belong To Me Ch.2 (Trixya) - Red

A/N- Thank you all so much for reading again. I"m still getting to grip the terms of writing, I used to write a lot (fanfiction) and I would appreciate feedback! Negative or positive say anything! Thank you again!

T/W- Swearing as per usual

“Last night you were in my room, and now my bedsheets smell like you” Trixie sang at the top of her lungs, whilst scrubbing her silk-like skin in the fresh shower.

Trixie loved to sing, she loved to express her voice and showcase that. There was no denying Trixie was talented but she still had her insecurities of course. Her weight, her face and her social skills. Katya had always convinced her she had beautiful curves and not every girl was stick thin. She had also told her every day she was pretty or cute, usually through a pun or some sort.

There was also no denying Katya was her number one fan, and vise versa. Trixie had a massive crush on her in the past. Trixie was still young, still discovering herself. Katya could probably do better than her, she just wished things had turned out differently, no one could make Trixie happier than Katya. Not even Taylor.

“Every day discovering something brand new, I’m in love with your body” Trixie sang, her strong voice wavering as she washed her hair with Strawberry shampoo. Trixie thought more in depth about her relationship with Taylor. Sure he was nice, and kept her warm. She had almost convinced herself she was straight. That is something that’ll never happen.

She was interrupted from her thoughts when Katya bust in the door wearing her short sweatpants and a cotton vest. Katya headed to the sink, grabbing her toothbrush.

“Katya! Fuck off” Trixie covered her innocence as Katya laughed menacingly. “Not like I havent seen it all before, cunt” Katya managed to get out from all the minty foam in her mouth.

Trixie shook her head and turned her back to her, washing her shoulders. Katya stolen a look at Trixies bare back, but quickly turned away, blushing furiously.

“Taylors coming over,” Trixie spoke after silence. Katya groaned and splashed water in her face. Trixie giggled. “He’s not that bad, Kat, we’re supposed to be going to a drive-in-movie tonight.” Trixie smiled to herself, finally a night off. Katya shook her head. “So I’ll be the lonely widow tonight” Katya washed her hands, looking at her bare face in the mirror. Trixie laughed loudly. “Go out tonight, get yourself a woman.”

Katya rolled her eyes and walked out. She picked out a nice red and black dress, a perfect fit to her petit body and tied her hair up. After 15 minutes, Trixie walked out in pink tartan shorts and top, looking like a body suit. “Looking good, Tracey.” Katya complimented. “You look not so bad yourself.” They both giggled and walked out to get breakfast.

“What movie are you going to see, Trix?” Katya asked as they both walked into the kitchen. “I’m not too sure yet, I’m looking forward to getting shitty snacks from 7/11 that is sure to give me diabetes.” Katya laughed at Trixies joke, pushing her lightly. The 2 cups of coffee sat at the worktop with freshly with Trixies newly bought jeans ironed and folded up. Katya grabbed her coffee a bit too quick and spilled all over Trixies gorgeous pair of jeans. “Shit, Trix i’m sorry!” Katya ran over to the kitchen roll and panicked. Trixie leaned on the counter and giggled. Katya gave Trixie the evil eye and shoved her towards the window where it was painted with raindrops. “Rains beautiful” Trixie stated. Whilst Trixie was staring at her beauty, Katya was staring at her.

-

The doorbell went. Katya rushed to get it after discussing about the show they were watching, Shameless, and talking who they would be. Trixie said she’d more likely to be Fiona Gallagher, caring but also a bit of a slut. Katya said she’d be Frank Gallagher. Enough said.

Katya opened the door with a bright smile but immediately dropped when she seen the deformed fuck face that was Taylor. “Oh, its you. Come in” Katya opened the door and walked in, sitting next to Trixie. Almost protecting her territory. Taylor came in and kissed Trixie. Katya looked at them. Why was that bastard but not her? He was a complete ass. His views were shitty, he said gay people made him feel uncomfortable and that women should be in the kitchen. Katya was almost convinced he voted for Trump. Katyas heart eventually sank when the kiss was held for more than 5 seconds. Katya in no way was self pitying herself, she just felt shitty. Well wouldn’t you if someone you loved for years on end kissed another man. Watching someone she couldn’t have was crushing her, thats why she had always turned on alcohol, but cut down now. Thankfully.

“How’re you Trix?” Taylor asled, leaning back on the leather seat. Katya stared at the TV screen, flicking through channels when she spotted the music channel playing the song Trixie was singing earlier. She smiled to herself whilst Trixie and Taylor made small chat.

“Babe, I can’t make it tonight, I’m sorry.” Taylor apologised. Katya looked over at a disappointed Trixie. “It’s alright, I’ll just work on a new song or something.” she mumbled. That bastard! Katya looked at him, he looked almost guilty.

That boy was too fishy for her liking, he was always up to something.

After 2 hours of them talking and Katya growling, Taylor left, claiming he had to run some errands. Bullshit. Katya had tried to cheer Trixie up afterwards. With her Barbara voice and horrific dancing which resulted in Katya nearly breaking her actual leg trying to death drop.

Katya understood Trixies sadness and let her be. Trixie claimed she wanted to start writing a new song. That is when the big stupid-ass lightbulb appeared at the top of her head.

“Trix, I’ll be 20 minutes, I need to get some groceries, mainly milk. Do you need anything?” Katya peered from Trixies door, seeing Trixie lie on her bed, guiatr on the other side of the bed, and it all covered in paper.

“Don’t think so.” Trixie shook her head. Trixie was about to walk away when she seen the drive-in movie poster and snatched it from the desk quickly and ran to the car.

Drive-In-Movie - Juliette park -

7.30pm-10.00pm - Admission fee $9

Showing - Me Before You

Katya started the car up and headed to the nearest supermarket., stuffing the poster in the cup holder. Katyas short heels clicked as she passed through the bright isles looking at stuff to get. She picked up milk and looked over to her left, looking down at a pair of heels and a pair of coverse. Katya looked up more and seen a younger woman, with big lips and nice eyebrows chatting to a little bit older woman with a big smile and a good sense of fashion. They actually looked in love. Katya smiled at them. The younger one looked at Katya and gasped and ran over to her. Katya was about to oiss her panties because what the fuck.

“Hey! You might not know me but I’m Adore! I’m a friend of Violets! I recognised you!” Adore smiled widely, touching the cling-film wrapped around her red arm.

The older woman chuckled at Adores actions and approached. “Don’t mind this bitch, she just wants to pretend to know a lot of people. I’m Bianca” Bianca held her hand out to shake it, Katya obliged, smiling. “Nice to meet you, I’m Katya if you didn’t hear.” They all giggled. “Whats up with your arm, Adore?” Katya asked curiously.

Adore turned her arm, revealing a beautiful flower with ‘Mia Bella’ under it. “I got it today, stings like a fucker but yea.” She held Biancas hand.

“Why 'my beautiful’?” Katya clicked her heels, looking up. Katya was basically a translator and knew shit. Adores tattoo was quite cheesy but at the same time, adorable.

Bianca held Adores waist. “This little cunt wanted a tattoo to remind herself of me, she wouldnt get the devil on her arm but would get some sappy shit like this.” Adore shoved her, smiling.

“Thats-thats fucking cute!” Katya was snatched. “How long have you been together?”

Bianca answered. “Secretly, a year or something.” Adore nodded.

“Secretly?"

"Well, she is my lecturer after all.”

Katya was really fucking snatched bald.

“I know right?” Bianca laughed. “Scandal waiting to happen.”

Katya shook her head, laughing along. “Your secrets safe with me."

"Hey dude, whats your number? We should all hang out sometime, Violet told me you have a crush thats your roommate, right?” Adore got her phone out, snatching Katyas from her hand filling in the numbers.

Katya stuttered, coughing slightly. “Um, Yeah Trixie. She doesnt know though, she’s taken."

Adore and Bianca looked up at her. Shit.

"Not for any longer, bitch.” Bianca smirked at Katya, then grabbed Adores hand when Adore passed to phone to Katya.

“I’ll text ya later, Katya, bye!” Adore waved.

“Bye Katya.” Bianca smiled and walked with Adore.

Katya waved and sighed happily. They were nice.

Katya smiled at the possibility of nice friends, she was sure Trixie would like them. She proceeded to walk around the supermarket, picking up stuff like bread, milk and tampons. Then she picked up crisps, ready made pizza, chocolate, candy. Making sure everything was pink. Pink lemonade, pink smarties, pink popcorn. Who knew right? Pink popcorn.

Katya made sure everything was perfect, she even got a cute little basket to put stuff in. When everything was paid for, Katya stuffed the basket in the boot and the groceries in the front seat.

Juilette park was only half an hour drive away so she had 1 or 2 to get ready and tell Trixie to get ready. Trixie definitely needed the 2 hours.

When Katya got home she sighed and looked into Trixies room door. Trixie had a pen in her mouth, ink running down her h=chin as she played a few cords.

“Hey bitch,you been sucking off a Smurf?” Katya greeted, laughing slightly.

Trixie gasped as she touched her mouth and ran into the bathroom, looking down at the ink stained fingers and attempted to frantically rub the ink off.

Katya stood and chucked at her friend. What a ditz. “Be ready at 6.50pm please” Katya asked, smiling a little bit. Trixie furrowed her eyebrows. “Why?" Katya tapped her nose and walked out the room leaving an ink stained Trixie confused.

-

6.45pm, Katya was excited. She had redone her makeup, the bold red lipstick complimented her darker eyes. Her dress looked beautiful, hugging her in all the right places. She stepped out with her wallet, keys and phone. Leaning on the breakfast bar, Katya sorted her dress, smoothing it out. Earlier she put the basket in the front seat and reminded herself to stop into a gas station.

Trixie walked out, wearing a beautiful pale pink dress with lace all over. It was beautiful. Her hair curly but loose and her makeup making her look the even more irresistible. Katya muttered under her breathe how gorgeous she looked but Trixie stood there smiling.

"Uh- Um lets go! Yeah lets go to the car” Katya laughed and walked out the apartment, Trixie following after. Katya was smiling herself becoming very excited.

Katya entered the car and let Trixie wonder for a minute what a basket was doing there. “Katya, what is this?” She held the basket in her lap, smiling confused.

“WE’RE GOING TO THE DRIVE-IN MOVIE THINGY CINEMAS BITCH!” Katya jumped up in her car seat, starting the car and blasting the music. Trixie gasped and hugged her.

“Thank you! Thank you Kat!” She beamed, leaving Katya pleased with herself, starting up the car.

“Well lets go then.”

#trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #fluff #biadore #rpdr fanfiction #submission #you belong to me