#Newcastle high school for girls

[sunshine-theseus]

Slow | Chloe Logarzo x Reader

Words: 1.9k Summary: despite a rough relationship with your parents, your closeness to your sister brings you Chloe, the only girl for you. Warning: NOT PROOF READ I have no clue if this is any good and I’m so sorry I think it might be one of my worst ones😭, I know the WBBL started in 2015 but who fucking cares, I changed it – no COVID but Olympics still postponed for some unknown reason :D Requested by - @charligrantismygirlfriend - not happy with this one at all i'm genuinely so sorry

Sport wasn’t something I was unfamiliar with. In fact, it was my favourite thing. As a kid, my mum and dad put me through many different clubs for different sports, from tennis to AFL. We always landed back at the same lush green cricket pitch in the western suburbs of Sydney on a Saturday morning, surrounded by other girls of all ages who shared my passion.

On Sundays my younger sister would play her soccer games, so we’d spend the weekend in a hotel in the city, then go to each other’s games, pretending to do our homework as we watch.

Not long into Ellie’s soccer journey, our parents decided the move from Cowra to Sydney was necessary for her to develop. The hours long trips to and from training in the depths of Sydney every afternoon proving to be more difficult as she progressed in school.

I no longer lived with them when they made the move, but I resented Ellie for a while. I’d been playing cricket before she could walk, albeit poorly as a 6-year-old, and had moved up through the stages into the best group in the academy by the age of 14. My parents insisted nothing much would come of it, so there was no reason to make such a drastic move and leave the farm and small-town life behind.

-

I started playing professionally for Sydney in the Twenty20 Cup at 17, the same year I got my first call-up for the women’s national cricket team. We, or they, still didn’t live in Sydney, so I dropped out of high school my senior year, and lived with one of the older girls who was also on the national team. I made my national debut a couple months after in a test match against England. My parents didn’t come, Ellie had some important game on that was simply impossible to miss.

-

At 15, when they finally joined me in the city, Ellie joined her first W-league team, and had her first senior team call-up. I made sure to be there for both debuts, avoiding my parents who sat in the crowd nearby. I cried the moment she first touched the pitch in a Matilda’s jersey, and rushed down from the stands to pick her up and hug her when the match was over.

That’s when I first met her… Chloe. My age, a beautiful brunette in the midfield who celebrated with my sister after their 9-0 win against Vietnam. We introduced ourselves and exchanged numbers but nothing much came of it. I can’t deny the many nights I spent awake dreaming of the girl.

The next time I saw Chloe in person was a Sydney Derby. Naturally I’d come to support my sister, but I couldn’t help but cheer whenever the older girl got a touch on the ball. I met up with her and Ellie again after the game, shouting them both dinner. That’s when Chloe asked me out on our first date.

It was somewhat rushed. Her departure for Newcastle was pending and it limited our options, leaving us to grab some shitty take away and dance around in a field down the road from where I lived. The sun was bright, but her smile was brighter. I stumble on my own feet whenever she looked at me, her beauty beyond compare. The beginning of a sunburn kissing my cheeks only provided me so much of an excuse as to why I was so red.

“I’m going to come to every single one of your games.” She whispers in my ear as we lay on the picnic blanket, beneath the over looming gum tree, me playing with her hair as she rests a hand beneath my loose linen shirt.

“You have your own training. And you can’t drive 2+ hours back and forth once a week. Also we have away games you can’t possibly make...” Despite my desperate want for her to be there every game, I begin to list all the reasons it wasn’t logical.

“I’ll find a way. And if not all, most home games.” She gives me a satisfied smile, one that tells me she knows she’s won whatever little argument we had.

-

Chloe keeps her promise, and I join her in my own. We both attend each other’s home games as often as possible, and very rarely, we managed to catch an away game. It usually happened when we were both playing a game in the same city, but we took whatever we were given.

Things went down hill when she moved to Sweden.

She hadn’t been the one to tell me. Ellie was spending a week with me after returning from the Olympics, which I had managed to attend most of, and asked me how I felt about the move. Chloe and I had been dating for a year, so the shock that she hadn’t told me was bigger than the shock at the news.

“What do you mean? She would tell me if she was moving to Sweden.” The pity in my little sister’s eyes is enough to break me. She pats and rubs my back as I sob into her shoulder. My whole body shakes as I moan and weep, and by the time I stop my eyes burn and there isn’t a dry spot on her shirt.

-

“So this is it? You’re breaking up with me because I’m moving?” Chloe looks at me like I’ve got 2 heads as I stand on her front step.

“No, I’m breaking up with you because I had to find out from my little sister, by accident, that you’re moving. Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I just going to have to find out when The Jets removed your name from the squad list?”

“I’m going to come back for the A-League season anyway! It’s not like I’m never coming back, I’ll barely be gone 8 months. And I was going to tell you!”

“When? Once your plane touched down in Stockholm or wherever you’re going? In 5 months when I called you so you can explain why you didn’t come to my game? When were you going to tell me Chlo?” I’m met with silence.

“That’s what I thought.” I turn and walk away, never expecting to see her again.

I can hear her shouting something at me as I continue to walk down the road, droplets of rain beginning to fall on the pavement in front of me. Nothing really registers until I’m standing in front of my sister’s apartment door, clothes heavy with rain and a face void of any other emotion except heartbreak.

-

I don’t see Chloe for years to come following the tragic end of our relationship. Despite her coming back during the summer to play for Sydney, I had no reason to watch her games, Ellie having moved to Portland to develop her career.

Then Ellie moved to Lyon, and I decided to move with her, putting a pause to my cricketing career. Further away from Chloe and closer to Ellie seemed like the perfect deal.

So I helped Ellie move and meet her new teammates. Every morning I’d make her breakfast and then walk around the city, usually finding myself in a café or museum and writing a book. Something I never planned on doing anything with, but found a solace in.

That’s how I found myself in the same café I go to every Saturday, typing in the same document I have been typing in for 5 months. Desperately pressing the backspace as I sip the now cold coffee, I don’t notice someone sliding into the seat across from me.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I’m surprised I didn’t get whiplash at the speed in which my head snapped up to look at the girl across from me.

She looks different. Not really, just… older. And her hair is bleached, skin just a fraction more tan, eyes still that shimmering blue. Still beautiful

“Chloe- what the fuck are you doing here?” the words nearly get caught in my throat as I try to process what’s going on.

“Well, I’m playing for Bristol now, in case you didn’t know. Only spent 2 seasons in Sweden then went back to Sydney, went on loan to Washington for a season, back to Sydney, now I’m in England. We have a small break so I thought I’d come see Ellie. Planned everything around you, knew you wouldn’t want to see me. I didn’t take into account you might still like coffee as much as you used to.”

“How’d you even know I’m with Ellie?” it’s a dumb question but I ask it none the less.

“You think I stopped tracking your career because we broke up? I have to say, when I read the “renowned cricketer Y/N Carpenter taking a break for an unforeseen amount of time to help her little sister, Matildas star Ellie Carpenter, settle into the big leagues at Olympique Lyonnais.” headlines, I was shocked.” I finally managed to meet her eyes, the crow’s feet that crack at the corners making her ever the more pretty. It’s aggravating.

“Thought it’d help me get away from Sydney.”

“Sydney? Or me?” I almost want to grab her by the shoulders and scream at her how much I miss her, but I stay sat and silent. A satisfied hum escapes her lips and a smile graces her face.

“I miss you.” She says what I’m thinking, and I begin to think how much of a coward I am. It was so easy for her, why am I struggling?

She doesn’t let me reply, getting up and walking out. I get up to follow her but she’s vanished in the crowd, so I sit, letting my coffee grow colder, thinking about her.

~~~~~

“Ellie this is a bad idea.”

“Common. Meeks is bringing Harley and Kirstey. You love Harley. You can babysit!” my little sister is determined, although my fighting is useless as we drag our suitcases through the airport.

“Chloe is going to be there El.”

“Chloe is going to be here.” I nearly bump into her as she stops in front of us.

“And she’ll be your plane buddy.” The cheeky grin I was once so familiar with graces her face and I can feel the corner of my own lips twitching as my heart clenches. Fuck.

“Oh goody.” I try to ignore the sweat that begins to prick through my skin as Ellie stalks away from us to meet Emily Gielnik.

-

“Real talk.” Chloe’s face is serious as soon as we take our seats on the plane.

“I miss you, and I want to try this again. I get you may not want to but you can’t tell me you don’t still feel even the tiniest bit of love for me still.” Her finger waggles back and forth between as to indicate exactly what she’s talking about and I sigh.

“I miss you too…” I meet her eyes and I can see the hope that grows behind them.

“But if we try this out again, we have to take it slow. Like go out on a few dates to start with.”

“I can do that.” She eagerly nods her head in agreement.

“I’d really like that.” I smile back at her, and that seems to end the conversation.

As the engine rumbles and we begin moving along the tarmac, I rest my arm on the armrest. I gently slide my hand into Chloe’s and rest my head on her shoulder, closing my eyes. Maybe slow wasn’t necessary, I love her too much.

[tooneys-russo]

Boots and Broken Hearts

A/N: A new fic that I have been thinking about, it'll follow Alessia Russo and original character Willa Conti as they navigate their lives at UNC.

Chapter 1:

The right person, but always the wrong time, maybe one day they can get their timing right. Alessia grew up in the South of London, she had two older brothers and a football obsessed Father, Mario. Her weekends were filled with football, either her playing, her brother Gio playing, her father playing for a local side. Alessia had to play with boys up until the age of 12 due to there being no local girls team she could join, but that was the best thing that could have happened to her. Playing with boys had given her a hunger to be better, stronger and faster than the boys to make sure they wouldn’t have anything to say about having a girl on their team. At school she would often be picked first by the boys because they knew exactly how good she was. Her talents had her noticed by the England Development Team, she went to her first camp for the under 14 team at the tender age of 12. There she met her best friend Ella, they were inseparable from the first moment they met. They both featured in elite football academies although for opposing teams, Alessia for Chelsea and Ella for Manchester United, they would play against each other but nothing would change between them off the pitch no matter the result. When it came time for the two to take on professional contracts Ella was offered a full time contract at her junior club, Alessia made the biggest decision of her young life, well the biggest one at that time, she decided to leave everything she knew and went to college in the United States. Alessia made her stamp on the collegiate football world when she made her first start with North Carolina University.

In comparison Willa had a slightly different road to North Carolina. She was raised in Newcastle Upon Tyne in the North East of England. She was chosen at the tender age of 8 to sign her first contract with Sunderland’s Junior Academy. Willa was tagged as an up and comer, he was a 12 year old playing in the under 16 side, and was placed into the England under 17 side by the age of 14. Willa had an outstanding junior career until she was 16, she was playing in the Under 19 European Championships, it was the final, the game she dreamed of. She stood in the opposition’s 18 yard box waiting for the corner to come in. As the ball soared towards her, Willa readied herself. The ball made contact with her head, then she felt a sharp pain to the right side of her face, then darkness. The Spanish Captain had attempted to clear the ball from the box, but instead she had kicked Willa in the face. It resulted in Willa being knocked unconscious, as well as slicing the right cheek, fracturing her cheekbone, eye socket and breaking her jaw. At that moment Willa had scored the winning goal and had her short career ended. She had her jaw wired shut for 2 months, headaches and concussion symptoms for 4 months and multiple surgeries to fix the shattered bones in her face. By the time she was cleared to play again Willa was 17 and without an academy contract. Her final year of high school was frustrating, she was surrounded by her friends from the academies who were on track for professional contracts, while she was playing division 4 women’s. Willa needed to escape from what could have been, so he sat the SATs and was on a plane as soon as she finished school, playing football (now soccer) at University of California, Los Angeles, UCLA. For four years she studied hard for her MBA while also being the star player of the UCLA Bruins Women’s Soccer Team, Captain from her Sophomore year onwards. She had a passion for analytics and would run reports of all stats for coaches each game, she knew she may never make it pro but she could make a difference on the sidelines. In her Senior year she played in the National Championship game and with 8 minutes until the end of the game her knee gave way. She knew exactly what it was, her ACL.

There were three years between Willa and Alessia, she had stared at UCLA and she had now made the decision to step off the field and begin her coaching and analytical career, her knee still gave her trouble after the reconstruction, each time she kicked the ball it felt different and she knew she was done at the tender age of 22. North Carolina was her lifeline and she took it with both hands. Alessia was away on an England Camp when Willa started. Willa had begun working with Anson Dorrance, the coach of North Carolina on their current team list, looking at game footage from both North Carolina and every other team that they were facing. Willa had never watched so much football in her life as she did now. By the time she met the players Willa knew everything that she could about the technical abilities of the players, she noted that Alessia had not arrived yet as she was still at the National Camp. Both she and Anson had begun working on the pre-season preparation for the team. Once August came around Alessia was back at North Carolina and at training. “Willa this is-'' Anson began. “Alessia Russo, 9 goals, 2 assists in your first collegiate season with a conversion rate of 43 percent, well 43.28 percent to be exact. Very impressive.” Willa had a bright smile and held out her hand to shake. Alessia was surprised by the woman in front of her with the Newcastle accent that sounded familiar, she seemed to know more about her than she did. Their blue eyes met as they shook hands. “I’m Willa Conti, pleasure to meet you Alessia.” She smiled and bit her lip gently. “Pleasure to meet you too, Willa. You seem to know a fair bit about football.” Willa laughed and let go of her hand.”Hope so. Might be disappointing if I didn’t.” Anson patted Alessia on the back. “Get on the park and join the team.” Alessia ran to join her teammates who were ecstatic that she was back.

After training Willa was going through the data from each player’s GPS and footage from the session. Her phone rang with a familiar name on the screen, her girlfriend, Jennifer. “Hey babe.” She sat back in her chair and ran her fingers through her long chestnut hair. Jennifer was not pleased at all that Willa had moved all the way to North Carolina away from her in LA, where she had just been recruited into the Orlando Pride Wave NWSL team. “Hi, you haven’t texted me back in hours. Too busy with all those North Carolina girls?” Willa could hear the anger in Jennifer’s voice and sighed knowing what was coming. “I have been running training and doing the analysis ready for this week’s first scrimmage.” Willa was being drained each conversation with Jennifer knowing that it would quickly become a fight. “Of course, well I have a game this weekend and I got you tickets. Are you able to come?” Willa looked up at the schedule on her office wall. “Yeah I should be able to. Will be a good game against Portland.” Jennifer hummed in agreement. “Yeah it will be good to see you, I miss you.”

“I miss you too, I will see you this weekend. Love you.” Willa’s tone was as happy as she could make it. 

“Love you too babe.” Jennifer sounded a lot more upbeat than when the call had started. The two had met when they were both on the UCLA football teams, Jennifer was a local LA girl and they seemed to be pushed together instantly. Willa found her comforting but did admit that at times she was so focused on football that she did neglect their relationship, it was lucky that they were on the same team. But Jennifer didn’t seem to mind as long as Willa was at all the parties with her, all the games and on her arm when she needed it. Jennifer was gorgeous and could have easily gone into modelling, she had flowing brown hair that had a slight curl, bright green eyes that matched the trees when they would go hiking around California. Her skin was permanently sunkissed and a rose tattoo graced the side of her forearm. As a couple they complimented each other perfectly, Willa had mid back length chestnut brown hair that was usually in a high pony tail, blue eyes that were like a royal blue, her facial scars were only noticeable in particular light like a lion had scratched down her right hand cheek. Willa’s skin was tanned after being in the LA sun for four years, her Italian background had been particularly beneficial. On her left ribs she had a tattoo of the Newcastle United badge and the UCLA Bruin. The Newcastle badge was important to her, they were her team but they never had an academy, the only one close by who had a girls academy was Sunderland, her natural enemy. Jennifer stood at 5 feet 7 inches and Willa who stood at a comfortable 5 feet 10 inches. The two were the IT couple of UCLA Athletics and he sat next to her when she was drafted to the Orlando Pride Wave, it was everything she wanted and more, Willa opted to not go into the draft, not wanting to be disappointed. When Willa received her offer to coach and be technical analyst at North Carolina Jennifer’s response left a lot to be desired, her focus was on their future in Orlando Pride and what it would mean to do long distance how hard it would be. There was no consideration for what Willa wanted, which was all too common in their relationship. 

Willa walked into the athletes dining room ready for another early morning session, she didn’t expect to see Alessia sitting by herself with a textbook by her side. Willa filled up her plate and sat next to the blonde Brit. “Good morning.” Willa smiled warmly, Alessia’s blue eyes looked up at her. “Oh hi.” She sat back and put her fork down on her plate. “What are you doing here so early?” Alessia glanced at the bag on the ground. “You know training isn't until later right?” Willa nodded, “Yeah I know, I just wanted to go for a run at the field, test some things out.” She laughed softly. “Test some things out? Like what the grass length?” She looked back into the older girl’s eyes. “Well depending on the grass length it would change the time that it would take the ball to -” Willa noticed the joking nature of Alessia’s question and the grin she was now wearing. “Ah, um no not the grass length just wanted to check the drills we had planned. Wanting to make sure we are improving on particular things.” Willa looked down at her plate embarrassed slightly about her first answer to Alessia’s clearly rhetorical question. Alessia smiled and bumped gently into Willa’s side. “Sorry, sometimes my sarcasm doesn’t translate. Is it possible for me to come with you to see the drills?” Willa smiled and nodded, unable to answer with her mouth full of food. The rest of their breakfast was filled with casual conversation, Willa discovered that Alessia had gone through the academy system just as she did, she also discovered that she wasn’t a huge fan of the tea available to her in the dining hall. Yorkshire tea was clearly the most superior tea, although with her time in America, Alessia was now very coffee focused, Willa noted that an oat flat white was the younger girl’s order.

Willa and Alessia made their way to the field, she made Willa feel comfortable with no judgement or expectations on her. Alessia felt an instant connection to the young coach, Willa took an interest in what she had to say and never once questioned why she would leave a professional contract behind for college halfway across the world. Willa and Alessia worked on multiple drills for around two hours, by the end they were both trying to catch their breath. “How were they? The drills? They alright?” Willa looked at the blonde next to her. “Well I am absolutely knackered, but I feel good and got to work on my first touch. What did you think?” She fixed her blonde ponytail. “Your touch is bloody good already, I just need your shot conversions a bit higher.” Willa laughed and she smiled. “Oh yeah? As a Sophomore I am out-scoring some of the Seniors.” Alessia put her hands on her hips and looked at the taller girl. “You won’t be playing against these girls in England, or at a World Cup. You are going to play in the best league in the world. The NWSL is dropping in quality and that's the league these players want to end up in. Not you, you have to play in Europe.” Willa said it casually as she grabbed her drink bottle. Alessia stared at her expressions, there was no mistaking that Willa was serious, she was almost matter of factly the way she spoke. Alessia was about to reply to the quite nice comment before they heard Coach Dorrance calling out. “Willa don’t keep the players from class! She is here for an education not just to kick a ball around, if her grades drop you will be tutoring her!” Willa nodded, “Yes Sir, sorry Alessia. I will see you tonight at training,I think we will be looking at some footage after the session. I want to chat to you about some plays.” Willa handed Alessia her drink. “Thanks Willa, appreciate it.” 

Alessia counted down the minutes until training, it isn't that she hated her classes, it was just that she couldn’t stop thinking about getting back on the field. Her aim was always to get better, each session added to her knowledge. The second class was finished for the day she was walking to the field, after warm up she watched as Willa explained the drills that she did with her that morning. During the drills in the hot sun, the girls began complaining about getting tired, their shots got more sloppy and their passing became wayward. Coach Dorrance called training and they all came into a group together, Willa had a grin on her face as some girls sat down and others caught their breath. “Well, that was a fantastic session. Willa has been doing some work on what we have been lacking and how we can improve. I know you girls are tired but I will let her chat to you about what the aim was.”

Willa stepped forward half a step. “Each game goes for around 90 minutes, give or take with additional time. The training today was medium to high intensity for 120 minutes. That gives both Coach and I an idea of what level you can maintain and for how long. Your disposals and shots only became detrimental to the function of the drills in the last 5 minutes. We now know that you can last 115 minutes, at a very good intensity. This is going to give us an advantage, we will also be doing lighter sessions after game day and doing recovery but these punishing sessions will give you a mental and physical edge over our opponents. In those moments when the other team is fatiguing you will remember this training and other after this and you will know you can push further. Great session, have a shower and we will meet you in the theater for a film session.” Willa grabbed the drink bottles and passed them around to the players, when she got to Alessia he looked into her eyes. “Feel a bit better with more players?” Alessia took a large drink from her bottle and nodded. “Yeah I actually got a rest.” She said slightly out of breath after her drink. “Good, you did really great.” Willa went around to other players and chatted to them, giving them tips on their movements and positioning. Alessia noticed that Willa genuinely wanted each player to be better than they were at the start of the session, she seemed excited to be involved even if it was picking up cones or organising everything for the coach. 

As the girls got ready for the film session a few of them talked about Willa and how nice it was to have a cute girl coaching them and how they wouldn’t mind getting a few one on one sessions with her. Alessia laughed along with the girls, she was very attractive physically but it was her personality that seemed to be the best part of the Geordie. The girls made their way to the theatre and out the front stood Coach Dorrance, Willa sat up the back with a notepad, Alessia saw her and made her way next to her. “Can I sit here?” She paused as she looked at the girl. “Oh yes of course, I want to show you something.” She moved down a seat. “I will be going through with as many players as I can like this to make sure I cover everyone's game.” Alessia noticed that she flicked through her notebook which was divided for each player, she got to her and the first page was full of notes on her past season. “Last season you played as a very solid number 9, the player that would be the main option for goals, I don’t want that to change but I do want to have a look at your off the ball work.” As the game footage played, Coach Dorrance showed what the opposition did that North Carolina needed to address and work on for the off season. Willa focused on Alessia’s movement and where she would prefer her to move, “It is just as important what you do off the ball as what you do on it.” Alessia was captivated as she talked, Willa was captivated by the way Alessia played. They both admired each other's passion for the sport and their drive to make either themselves or their teams better. At the end of the film session the girls started leaving Willa and Alessia walked out together into the car park. “The scrimmage game in two days, I want you to focus on getting into those looser positions, drag those defenders out of the danger areas to allow a player to come through. They will want to follow you and not be aware of the danger that is coming. Trust me, then on the next play you come around the back and get to that back post for the cross and just knock it in. Easy as you like.” Alessia stared at her. “That easy?” She nodded. “They all know you, you will be marked tighter than a compression sock. Use it to your advantage. Goodnight Alessia, great work today” Alessia watched Willa walk back towards her car, she changed her line as she got closer and walked towards a black BMW parked with its lights on. Willa’s head dropped as she got into the car, Alessia watched and got into her own car. She had no idea whose car Willa had gotten into but it appeared she knew the person.

Chapter 2

[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday Mark McLachlan aka Marti Pellow, born March 23rd 1965, the same year as myself.

Picture the scene, a teenage Mark chatting to his dad in Clydebank, and telling him he was going to be a musician, according to Pellow the reply went something like this....'Are you on a hallucinogenic substance or something? What's wrong with getting out there and getting an apprenticeship? I'm a builder, your grandfather was a builder, your great-grandfather was a shipbuilder. What do you want to be a musician for?'

And so it was, Mark became Marti and Mclachlan, became Pellow.

In 1982, at the age of seventeen, Marti formed the band Vortex Motion, with three friends from Clydebank High School in his hometown, the bands name was later changed to Wet, Wet, Wet who went on to have numerous hit singles and albums.

PolyGram signed the group in 1985 and spent a fortune fine tuning them in, the group scored a hit two years later with "Wishing I Was Lucky," which reached number 6 in the charts, the album Popped In Souled Out was a huge success scoring them a debut number one, two more would follow.

The Wets, as they became known had more single success in 1988 with their first number one, a cover of the Beatles' "With a Little Help from My Friends" cut for the charity ChildLine.

Hit singles including Sweet Surrender and Goodnight Girl preceded a 1994 cover of the Troggs' "Love Is All Around" which spent an astounding 14 consecutive weeks atop the charts and was their third chart topper; however, in the wake of 1997's album, 10, the Wets began splintering amid copyright squabbles, and in May 1999 Pellow left the group.

Marti had a few minor hits as a solo artist but soon found fame in London's' West End in the hit stage musical Chicago.

Marti's mother passed away in 2003 and he was touched that all his ex band members attended the funeral, he recalled his mum saying that maybe Wet Wet Wet would get back together sometime and Marti later said in an interview "Moments like that put things into perspective - it wasn't all about music, it was more about a kinship between us." The band reformed the following year.

While the group haven't officially split the earlier success has eluded them, they still attract fans to their sell out concerts, Marti is still playing to audiences in London, his last role being Che Guevara in Evita aside from music he was the narrator in Willy Russell's Blood Brothers in 2015.

Pellow is currently touring singing some of his best-known songs on a UK-wide tour. He'll be playing former band Wet Wet Wet's debut album, Popped in Souled Out, in full - plus a string of other hits. The first night was at in Dublin and he played Glasgow's OVO Hydro last Saturday, he is in Leeds tonight, followed by Newcastle, London, Bournemouth and Birmingham.

[imnotavamp1r3]

♡౨ৎ Books I want to read in 2024! ౨ৎ♡

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

I'm currently reading Earthlings by Sayaka Murata, which will likely be my last or second last book of 2023 depending on how much time I'll have to read during the holidays. So I've decided to make a reading list of the books I would like to read in 2024. At the time of typing this, I've read 36 books in 2023 and I hope to read even more next year!

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

🎀 Boy Parts ♡ Eliza Clark

Genres: Fiction, horror, contemporary

Synopsis: Irina obsessively takes explicit photographs of the average-looking men she persuades to model for her, scouted from the streets of Newcastle. Placed on sabbatical from her dead-end bar job, she is offered an exhibition at a fashionable London gallery, promising to revive her career in the art world and offering an escape from her rut of drugs, alcohol, and extreme cinema. The news triggers a self-destructive tailspin, centred around Irina’s relationship with her obsessive best friend, and a shy young man from her local supermarket who has attracted her attention.

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

🎀 Carmilla ♡ Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

Genres: Horror, gothic, fiction

Synopsis: Isolated in a remote mansion in a central European forest, Laura longs for companionship—until a carriage accident brings another young woman into her life: the secretive and sometimes erratic Carmilla. As Carmilla’s actions become more puzzling and volatile, Laura develops bizarre symptoms, and as her health goes into decline, Laura and her father discover something monstrous.

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🎀 Elvis and Me ♡ Priscilla Presley

Genres: Nonfiction, biography, memoir

Synopsis: Decades after his death, millions of fans continue to worship Elvis the legend. But very few knew him as Elvis the man. Here in her own words, Priscilla Presley tells the story of their love, revealing the details of their first meeting, their marriage, their affairs, their divorce, and the unbreakable bond that has remained long after his tragic death.

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🎀 Goth ♡ Otsuichi

Genres: Horror, fiction, mystery

Synopsis: Morino is the strangest girl in school - how could she not be, given her obsession with brutal murders? And there are plenty of murders to grow obsessed with, as the town in which she lives is a magnet for serial killers. She and her schoolmate will go to any length to investigate the murders, even putting their own bodies on the line. And they don’t want to stop the killers - Morino and her friend simply want to understand them.

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🎀 Grotesque ♡ Natsuko Kirino

Genres: Fiction, horror, mystery

Synopsis: Life at the prestigious Q High School for Girls in Tokyo exists on a precise social a world of insiders and outsiders, of haves and have-nots. Beautiful Yuriko and her unpopular, unnamed sister exist in different spheres; the hopelessly awkward Kazue Sato floats around among them, trying to fit in.Years later, Yuriko and Kazue are dead — both have become prostitutes and both have been brutally murdered.

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🎀 Lapvona ♡ Ottessa Moshfegh

Genres: Fiction, horror, historical fiction

Synopsis: Little Marek, the abused and delusional son of the village shepherd, never knew his mother; his father told him she died in childbirth. One of life’s few consolations for Marek is his enduring bond with the blind village midwife, Ina. Ina’s gifts extend beyond childcare: she possesses a unique ability to communicate with the natural world. Her gift often brings her the transmission of sacred knowledge on levels far beyond those available to other villagers. For some people, Ina’s home in the woods outside of the village is a place to fear and to avoid. Among their number is Father Barnabas, the town priest and lackey for the depraved lord and governor, Villiam. The people’s desperate need to believe that there are powers that be who have their best interests at heart is put to a cruel test by Villiam and the priest. But when fate brings Marek into violent proximity to the lord’s family, new and occult forces upset the old order. By year’s end, the veil between blindness and sight, life and death, the natural world and the spirit world, civility and savagery, will prove to be very thin indeed.

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🎀 Kamikaze Girls ♡ Novala Takemoto

Genres: Fiction, young adult, contemporary

Synopsis: Meet Momoko, a "Lolita" decked out to the nines in the finest (and frilliest) of Victorian haute couture. The only scion of a drunken interlude between a cowardly yakuza and an inebriated bar-hostess, Momoko's mom has since split the scene, and, after various ill-fated scams that involve imitation brand name merchandise, Momoko's dad relocates them to the boondocks of rural Ibaraki prefecture. To escape her humdrum existence, Momoko fanaticizes about French rococo, dreams of living in the palace of Versailles, and buys all her extremely lacy clothes from an expensive Tokyo boutique. Meet Ichiko, a tough-talking motorcycle grrrl (on a tricked-out moped) who leads a ladies-only biker gang known as the Ponytails. Together, this unlikeliest of duos strike out on a quest to find a legendary embroiderer, a journey on which they encounter conniving pachinko parlour managers, legendary street-punks, and anaemic costumers. Who knows, they might just make it big...if only Ichiko would stop head butting Momoko in the forehead.

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🎀 On Sun Swallowing ♡ Dakota Warren

Genres: Poetry, fiction, feminism

Synopsis: On Sun Swallowing is a sweet and bloody collection of poetry, dancing in the spaces between skinned knees and red wine, satin and switchblades, rosaries and Dionysian ecstasy. Her writings are haunted by the ghosts of girlhood, god/s, lovers and the landscape of childhood, but Warren is unflinching - she haunts her ghosts in return, with sharp lyricism and cutthroat vulnerability. On Sun Swallowing explores shadowy emotion, at times in a whisper, at times in a scream. Think: cheap cigarettes, even cheaper wine, and an oath to reach hell by midnight and be home in time for work in the morning.

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🎀 Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk ♡ Legs McNeil & Gillian McCain

Genres: Music, nonfiction, history

Synopsis: Iggy Pop, Danny Fields, Dee Dee and Joey Ramone, Malcom McLaren, Jim Carroll, and scores of other famous and infamous punk figures lend their voices to this definitive account of that outrageous, explosive era. From its origins in the twilight years of Andy Warhol's New York reign to its last gasps as eighties corporate rock, the phenomenon known as punk is scrutinized, eulogized, and idealized by the people who were there and who made it happen.

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🎀 The Witching Hour ♡ Anne Rice

Genres: Horror, fantasy, fiction

Synopsis: On the veranda of a great New Orleans house, now faded, a mute and fragile woman sits rocking... and The Witching Hour begins. It begins in our time with a rescue at sea.  Rowan Mayfair — aware that she has special powers but unaware that she comes from an ancient line of witches—finds the drowned body of a man off the coast of California and brings him to life.  He is Michael Curry, who was born in New Orleans and orphaned in childhood by fire on Christmas Eve, who pulled himself up from poverty, and who now has acquired a sensory power that mystifies and frightens him. As these two, fiercely drawn to each other, fall in love and set out to solve the mystery of her past and his unwelcome gift, the novel moves backward and forward in time from today's New Orleans and San Francisco to long-ago Amsterdam and a château in the France of Louis XIV.  An intricate tale of evil unfolds—an evil unleashed in seventeenth-century Scotland, where the first "witch," conjures up the spirit she names Lasher... a creation that spells her own destruction and torments each of her descendants in turn.

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If you've read any of these books, feel free to comment what you thought of them (without spoilers obviously lol). That's it, byeeeee!! ˚｡⋆୨୧˚♡

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[moonmoonthecrabking]

the question isn't "how do i keep tabs on my co-leaders' girlfriends" the question is "how are these random guys i met up near newcastle dating girls who went to high school with me"

[duckiehq]

「  lana  condor  .  24  .  non - binary  .  she / they  」 hey  ,  look  !  its  daphne  “ duckie ”  pham  rocking  up  with  their  camp  uniform  on  .  it's  their  third  year  working  at  cooper  creek  so  it's  like  they've  never  been  away  .  they're  pretty  popular  with  the  kids  due  to  their  +  whimsical  and  +  adventurous  nature  .  but  it's  a  tough  crowd  and  they  can't  please  everyone  ,  especially  those  that  say  they're  -  irresponsible  and  -  scatterbrained  .  they  also  remind  everyone  of  uncontrollable  laughter  in  the  summer  sun ,  smiles  that  start  small  and  reach  a  thousand  watts ,  &  always  finding  a  silver  lining  .  what's  their  favorite  activity  to  lead  at  camp  ,  you  ask  ?  oh  ,  definitely  paddle - boarding  .  well  ,  let's  hope  they  can  survive  the  summer  .  it  can  be  brutal  out  there  !

hi-diddly-ho, neighborinos! your friendly neighborhood maeby (27, they/she, mst) coming in hot and so stoked to be here ♡ i’m bringing my teeny-tiniest, sunshine-iest lil pea, duckie! so without further ado…

given name: daphne elaine pham preferred name: duckie - given as a child, an offshoot of “daffy duck” other nicknames: duck, goose, daph, pham birthday: august 8th, 1998 (24 years old) zodiac: leo sun, aquarius moon, sagittarius rising identity: pansexual, panromantic non-binary person hometown: newcastle, nsw, australia hobbies: surfing, skateboarding, rock climbing, amateur filmmaking, acoustic guitar, matchmaking/meddling, dance dance revolution, creating the ultimate nachos favorites: pizza with pineapple, pasta with white sauce, chocolate lava cakes, clueless (1995), romy and michele’s high school reunion (1997), josie and the pussycats (2001), psychedelic indie folk pop, richard linklater character inspo: jack dawson (titanic), ferris bueller (ferris bueller’s day off), dani rojas (ted lasso), darcy olsson (heartstopper), jj maybank (outer banks), ilana wexler (broad city), bubbles (powerpuff girls) pinterest: click here! playlist: click here!

BIOGRAPHY

the ballad of duckie pham starts with a chance, however impulsive and hopeful, given to two people; two polar opposites. a surfer, just starting to rise through international ranks, and an honors interior design major home for summer break. a chance meeting at a diner when he happened to be in town for a competition. was it impulsive for them to stay out all night, talking to each other when they were complete strangers? definitely. did they care? not at all. duckie’s older brother was born nine months and some change later and though her parents weren’t actually married until a few years ago, that hopeless romanticism became a constant theme in duckie’s life.

as she grew older, while all of her friends spent their time in the middle of crazy schemes to try to get boyfriends and girlfriends (often that she came up with), duckie was learning how to kickflip, running around filming everything around her, teaching herself how to play bad covers on her dad’s old acoustic guitar, and surfing newcastle’s impeccable waves any chance she got. by far the closest to her heart, surfing took up the majority of her attention and love. until her dad retired from competition and opened his own surf shop with duckie’s uncle, duckie spent every summer chasing the greatest waves in the world with him as he made a name for himself. even when she was thousands of miles from home, she learned how to make friends everywhere they went. anywhere could feel like home.

when her father did retire, they went back to living in newcastle year-round and duckie’s adventures around the globe suddenly stopped. she was sixteen, freshly blossomed in the ocean surf, and ready to fall in love with her hometown again. what she hadn’t expected was for her to fall in love. she had her heart broken three times by the time she finished school and left home, but that never stopped her from falling again. every summer in newcastle, duckie was determined to have more adventures and make more memories than the last. these hometown summers had summers in portugal and brazil and south africa to compete with, after all. but somehow, they managed to. every single year.

despite everything, when she was twenty, duckie started to feel stagnant; complacent; bored. it seemed newcastle wasn’t enough for her uncontrollable wanderlust anymore. deeply in love with one of her best friends, duckie followed her heart and followed them to los angeles. without any real job experience or great ideas, she went back to what she did best and started entering in local surf competitions; getting her name out there, just like her pops had. the next couple of years were less of a whirlwind and more of a tornado. confessions and love and breakups and parties, parties, parties. the year she would start at camp, it all became a little too much for duckie and when she needed to get away, camp answered her call. one half-serious offer from a friend to join them at camp, and duckie was jetting off to florida to test her skills as a counsellor at cooper creek.

camp was everything she loved about the summers around the world with her dad and the legendary summers in her hometown all rolled into one. everything about camp suited duckie. when she’s there, the rest of the world melts away. all her usual stresses are replaced with cackling laughter, childish pranks, and pure possibility. after all, anything can happen at camp. for as much chaos as she causes there, camp centers and grounds her for the rest of the year when she’s back to surfing, traveling endlessly, and helping out her dad and uncle with their surf shop in newcastle (her home base once again) every chance she gets. newcastle is her her hometown and very soul, so cooper creek must really be something special to compete with it in duckie’s heart like it does.

when this summer rolled around, she was already itching to get out of newcastle and get back to florida. back to summer crushes, acting like an idiot, and showing everyone what duckie pham is made of.

CLICK FOR WANTED CONNECTIONS !

[whitepolaris]

Crybaby Bridge

If there's one legend everyone's familiar with, it's Crybaby Bridge. The reason is because, it seems, nearly every town's got one. If you plot every alleged Crybaby Bridge on a map, you'll see they cover nearly the entire state, meaning that either this is one popular tale or bridges and infants just don't go very well together.

If you're not familiar with the story, it usually goes a little something like this: During a time long before seat belts or infant car seats became common equipment in automobiles, a woman and her baby were taking a leisurely drive through the country. The mother unexpectedly lost control while driving across a bridge. In the resulting accident, the child was fatally injured or drowned. In many versions, the woman loses her life, too, sometimes due to decapitation.

In at least one version, the woman was actually trying to cross a bridge in high water when the vehicle was predictably washed into the river. Her child was swept away and never found. Occasionally, the story goes, the woman was drunk.

In a more ghastly variation, numerous children lost their lives at the bridge, all at the hands of their mother. This unhappy legend says that a young girl, repeatedly raped by her father, drowned each of the resulting offspring.

In yet another, less common version, both parents were involved. Instead of driving across the bridge, they were simply picnicking on the bank or rowing in a nearby pond when their child fell into the water and was lost in the weeds.

Whatever the cause, the result is that you can now go down to the bridge at night and hear the faint cries of the child, or children, wailing in the darkness. Sometimes, you can hear the splash of a baby hitting the water. According to some, this has to be experienced at midnight. According to others, it only works on Fridays. If you drive there, you're supposed to stop in the middle of the bridge, turn off your ignition and your lights, and roll down the windows. If you're one of the unlucky few, your car might even fail to start when you're ready to get the heck out of there.

In some instances, if you're brave enough to get out of the car, you might see a ghostly image of the baby's mother, either hovering above the creek, walking the banks, or wandering beneath the bridge searching for her lost child. Or she may appear as a softly glowing blue light.

Whatever the case, Crybaby Bridge is a perfect place to take a car full of visiting relatives for a little local flavor, especially if you can load one or two of them in the open bed of a pickup truck. So, if you find yourself in Ada, Alderson, Catoosa, Checotah, Hontubby, Jenks, Kellyville, Kiefer, Moore, Newcastle, Pryor, Schulter, or Vinita some evening and you're looking for a scare, just ask any high-school kid where you can find Crybaby Bridge. He'll surely be able to point the way.

[9223372036854775808-1]

10 Sep, 729 A.C. 17:02 High Street, Northlands, Outside Newcastle City

Under the sun that just began to set, two girls walked out of the school gate. The gatekeeper, an old man, was surprised that today both the blonde and the red-haired were so silent when they walked past him. As his old, decaying brain remembered, although both of them were rather introverted, they usually chatted on and on on whatever-the-youngsters-these-days-cared-about when they were together. Today, however, it was as if there was something important about them, and they also seemed to be glancing at each other a little bit more. But he had too much else to care for, and he forgot about what he saw a few seconds after the girls walked away.

The short and skinny blonde girl, Brooklyn, was walking beside her best friend, Manhattan, and looking at the ground. She was whispering something—some words and phrases that were inaudible. Manhattan saw her unusualness and asked, “Oh you seemed quite nervous. Are the things that you are gonna tell me really very important?”

Brooklyn lifted her head up and looked into Manhattan’s eyes. “Am I nervous? I can’t really tell myself.”

“Definitely.” Manhattan took Brooklyn’s hand and felt its temperature. “Your hand is cold. It seemed like you’re going to tell me like your biggest secret or something. Or wait, are you?”

Manhattan looked at Brooklyn and noticed that she was looking to the side when Manhattan felt her hand. She quickly searched her memory and found that literally no one told her about deep secrets (or just deep things in general) before, not even her parents. Well, guess Manhattan and Brooklyn were actual best friends for now.

“Actually… yes. I think you can call that my biggest secret.” Brooklyn turned back to Manhattan and spoke quickly, but this time she avoided Manhattan’s eyes a bit.

The sun continued to set, and the sky turned into a bright palette of orange and violet. Patches of clouds dotted the sky around the sun. Manhattan enjoyed the pleasant view in the cool evening breeze, and Brooklyn continued to look at the side of the road, her face still expressionless but less than before.

Through the streets, through the shops with jingling bells hanging on the doors and bright neon signs that were all shutting down, through the only park around the area. It wasn’t a long walk, but it all felt very long and new for Brooklyn.

Manhattan was actually a bit nervous as well. Secrets, no matter her secrets or others’ secrets, were never part of her life, and she wondered whether she could handle a secret for her friend well. Would it be about something important that she had to keep secret from Brooklyn’s parents? Was it even right to keep it secret? Even if it was the kind of secret that everyone has, would her brain, which longed for socializing all day, let her keep it something secret? Things are uncertain, but for now, Manhattan had to prepare herself and be ready first.

Time passed and the sun was lower, although it was still glowing a gorgeous bright orange. The air was significantly cooler than during the day when the girls arrived at the ice cream place. The lights inside the small shop were bright, forming a contrast with the darkening but still brilliant surroundings.

Manhattan and Brooklyn entered the shop. The place was loud because of the noise of the appliances but early empty, and there was no one behind the counter. However, a mysterious-looking blue-haired girl wearing a hoodie was curled up in one corner. When the girl saw Manhattan, she immediately leaped up from the seat. “Yoooo! Our cool girl Mandy’s here! I know you would come today!” She put on a large grin.

Manhattan sighed. She guessed that she would never get to know how to get along with these extreme extroverts. She didn’t quite like loud people around her. In fact, the blue-haired girl was the only loud person she could stand.

“Hey Isla. You won’t mind sitting on the far side for a while, would you? Me and Brook need to talk.” Manhattan asked.

“Oh I won’t mind at all! In fact, I love just sitting there and watching you two chat about your little lives and teeny things and stuff. Go on, I’m going.”

Isla walked to the other side of the interior of the shop and pulled a chair over to sit down. She sank into the chair and sat with her legs crossed and raised to the table. Her hands pillowed her head on the frame of the window, and she hummed a little tune. Manhattan knew that Isla the Noisy Girl was back to Isla the Lazy Girl (wait it rhymes) (these were her only two states) and she relaxed as well.

Manhattan and Brooklyn sat on a sofa. When they talked, especially when it was about important things, Brooklyn liked to sit close to Manhattan until her head almost touched Manhattan’s shoulder.

It seemed like at this moment, Brooklyn had reached the peak of her nervousness. Her whole body was shaking a bit, and her hands sweated. Determined, she still forced herself to look into Manhattan’s eyes. Manhattan also noticed Brooklyn’s fidgety actions and reached out her hand to comfort Brooklyn. Brooklyn held onto it and closed her eyes, gathering up her courage.

Finally, a sentence popped out of Brooklyn’s mouth: “I was diagnosed with ADHD. Just last summer.”

Manhattan’s brain began working hard the moment she heard Brooklyn’s words. ——Firstly, based on her weak knowledge about brain science, ADHD was one of the most common brain disorders, though it was not a very big issue for most patients. It may affect living on a daily basis, but it’s not impossible to overcome it.

“For now, only my parents and some of my teachers at school know about it.”

——Why did she want to keep it secret? Manhattan thought, but then she realized the problem of stereotypes. She understood it well through what people thought of her hobbies, lifestyle, and many other things.

“Where should I start…? Fine, my childhood then. My grades have been bad ever since primary school, and it seemed like I was not quite able to learn anything in classes—you know—like, physically unable to. My teachers yelled at me and I hated them. The kids didn’t play with me and I hated them as well. Neither my parents nor I knew what happened to me. In fact, I was thought to be a ‘smart kid’ by my relatives before primary school. At that age, I was angry, anxious, overwhelmed, and self-humiliated, like, every single day. Everything was too much for me.” Brooklyn whispered her words in a very fast way, like she always did when she was thinking way faster than she was speaking.

——Manhattan knew. She understood this kind of feeling. It was like what she felt, but of course it would be a thousand times more painful for Brooklyn, who was neurologically ill. Think fast. How could she comfort Brooklyn?

“At that time, everything was hard for me. I couldn’t do my homework well, especially the writing and reciting parts. I would spend hours on my homework, and it would eventually set me off crying. My parents knew that I had something, but somehow it never came to them to take me to the doctors until last summer.”

——Hearing about this is a brand-new experience. Manhattan never thought that the cool girl had such pain in her. However, she still had totally no idea about how to make Brooklyn feel better, both right now and after this confession.

“Although I would rather die than study, it was lucky for me that my dad was actually an amateur drummer. I have been fascinated by the drums since I was like 3 or so, and my dad taught me how to play them. At that time, I could only focus when I was playing the drums. It was like… How do you say that… I found solace in it. And I was pretty good at it as well. When I was in 3rd grade, my dad said that I had mastered all the skills that he could teach me and agreed to find a professional to teach me more. As my skills got better, I felt the rhythms hidden inside the songs and learned to appreciate them, and they became the most important part of my life. It was beautiful… You write great songs so you must know about that feeling. It was soul-deep and an antidote to my anxiety.”

——Hearing that, Manhattan almost sighed in relief. It was definitely a good thing that Brooklyn could be free from her negative feelings from time to time, and playing the drums was her passion. Something that she could love in this world. Brooklyn continued: “It was music that carried me on until I found my other passions.” Manhattan was surprised that Brooklyn’s words continued her own thoughts.

“As I began to use the internet more, I found that I could watch more anime than ever, and it slowly grew into something that I do every day. Like my second mental support. I loved—and still love—chatting and hanging out with the anime fans, and I actually grew from extremely introverted to quite social.”

“Coincidentally, I also learned to write a lot of interesting codes online. It was a bit strange because people usually think that programming is boring work that even normal people can’t focus on for long hours, let alone someone with ADHD like me, but I coped with it perfectly. At first, I made a lot of trick programs that were pretty simple, along with a few useful projects that I use as life hacks. Then one day I ran into a real hacker association, like the good type, and they taught me some principles of hacking. I was fascinated by the idea and spent a lot of time navigating the internet to gain more knowledge about it. To improve my skills, I even read college course books about math and things, you know, just to get the idea because I couldn’t understand any of it practically. Last year, I actually started writing code for pretty decent projects, on GitHub. I think that, if I remember correctly, people knew that I was a hacker a few months ago when the school shop started charging extra for no reason and I hacked the school website. You also remember that, right? Good. I was lucky that time because I wasn’t even kicked out of the school. Maybe they gave me a chance since I didn’t really cause any damage. Actually, the fact that I have a good understanding of computers might be the only reason they’re keeping me in this school.”

Brooklyn seemed a lot more relaxed now, and she laughed. Manhattan was relaxed as well. She knew that it was Brooklyn’s burning passion that saved her from depression and anxiety, and that she dealt with them pretty well. Although Manhattan needed to mind a bit more when she was with Brooklyn, she would love to care for her true friend. Guess she would better be home fast and do some more research on ADHD.

Manhattan smiled a real smile that came from deep inside her heart. It was a smile that she hadn’t put on for a long time. She smiled her best smile for Brooklyn, and Brooklyn smiled back.

On the other side of the room, the blue-haired girl, after lying in such a comfortable position with her hoodie on for this long, was almost asleep. She grinned as well. For her, she didn’t exactly need a unique life of her own. Just watching people (especially Manhattan and Brooklyn) live their lives and occasionally recording others’ lives was enough for her. Oh, and one most important thing: Aurora’s life. She will protect it.

[garystockdalephotography-blog]

Exploring before school

[sagegreen17]

A Letter to the Derry Girls

My dad and I didn’t always get along.

My entire 21 years of life, we had a strained relationship. It wasn’t until I left high school that he started to sort of treat me more like a human being.

We were both home from work one day (me, with a day off and him not starting work until 4pm), so I decided to show him Derry Girls. I had never, in my (back then) 19 years of living, seen my dad laugh that hard. I saw one of his work colleagues the next day, and he said that dad came in to work that night and couldn’t stop talking about this Irish comedy show.

Derry Girls became our thing. It was what we could bond over, something to put on the TV if we were both home and bored and wanted to relax.

(The best part was that mum found out that her family were actually from Derry, so we were officially Derry Girls. Dad tried to get in on the action, but we had to keep reminding him that he was an Englishman through and through, Newcastle born and bred).

He would constantly pester me, asking when season 3 would come out, and I would give him the updates I could. The last thing I was able to tell him was that they finally wrapped filming in late December.

He died on January 5, at the age of 57. Had a heart attack in his sleep.

I actually spoke about Derry Girls in the eulogy I wrote for him. People I never knew kept coming up to me at his wake, and writing down the name of the show, for them to watch later on.

Derry Girls actually gave me a relationship with my dad. We didn’t have anything in common, and that was the one thing we could talk about and enjoy together without it turning into a screaming match.

(Although it was usually more him screaming and me crying in the corner).

I still haven’t processed his death. I don’t know how to feel about it. I’m going to therapy soon, so hopefully that will help.

I guess what I’m trying to say, is thank you to the cast and crew of Derry Girls. You’ve given me some of my most fond memories with my dad. You’d given him some of his loudest laughs, and some happy times spent with his only daughter. That time we were able to spend together on the couch turned out to be my favourite times spent with him, and I just wanted to show my appreciation to every single person that had a hand in creating that show.

He’ll never get to see this final season. I still haven’t watched it yet, seeing as I live in Australia with no access to Channel 4, but I know that when I finally do get to watch it, I can have a laugh for him.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for what you did for him.

[ukrfeminism]

A leading group of girls’ schools is to close its doors on boys who identify as girls to protect their status as single-sex institutions.

Girls’ Day School Trust (GDST), which represents 25 schools across England, has updated its gender identity policy. Previously, most girls’ schools had been unclear in their admissions policies about whether they would accept transgender pupils.

While many have pupils at the school who have changed their gender identity, asking to be treated as male or non-binary, they had avoided explicitly stating whether they would admit biological boys who identify as girls.

GDST, which includes Wimbledon High School, Royal High School Bath, Oxford High School and Newcastle High School for Girls, says in its new policy: “GDST is committed to single-sex education for girls. Admissions to GDST schools are based on the prospective student’s legal sex as recorded on their birth certificate.”

It says of applicants who are legally female but who identify as trans or non-binary: “Applications will be carefully considered on a case-by-case basis. Single-sex schools present a particular context for transgender students. There may be cultural challenges involved in a trans student who does not identify as a girl attending a school which deliberately tailors its ethos and educational approach to cater specifically for girls.”

The trust says of children who are legally male but identify as trans or nonbinary: “GDST schools are able to operate a single-sex admissions policy, without breaching the Equality Act 2010 on the basis of an exemption relating to biological sex. GDST believes that an admissions policy based on gender identity rather than the legal sex recorded on a student’s birth certificate would jeopardise the status of GDST schools as single-sex schools under the act.

“For this reason, GDST schools do not accept applications from students who are legally male. We will, however, continue to monitor the legal interpretation of this exemption.”

Cheryl Giovannoni, the GDST chief executive, said that the schools were trying to offer a “supportive environment” to pupils exploring their gender identity. “Our trans students are welcome in our schools and our policy primarily sets out ways in which schools can support them,” she said.

The guidance was updated and shared with member schools before the Christmas break. State school headteachers are also keen for guidance.

Julie McCulloch of the Association of School of College Leaders (ASCL), said that as more children identified as transgender, heads were forced to make decisions on biological sex and gender.

“The lack of formal guidance for schools is something that we are concerned about,” she told The Sunday Telegraph. “It is something that almost all schools are having to think about but particularly single-sex schools.”

Stonewall, which champions LGBTQ rights, works with schools, companies and government departments, advising them on how to be “champions”. But several institutions have dropped their membership over concerns about its diversity scheme.

Stone King, a firm of lawyers specialising in education, says that co-educational schools must not discriminate against a transgender child.

Its website says: “Where a transgender applicant applies for admission, single sex schools should carefully consider the matter and whether any adjustments can be made to accommodate the child: a blanket refusal otherwise risks being unlawful.”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph. M sorry I keep disturbing 😅 forgive me but please can you suggest me some ballet Sherlock fics?

Hi Lovely!

Check out this community recs post that split into two threads:

Dancer/Ballet AU (Jun 2020)

Balletlock (July 2020)

Here are the ones on my MFL list, which I have more than I thought I had, LOL:

BALLET DANCER AU (MFL's)

Take me to Baker Street by MorganeUK (G, 2,087 w., 1 Ch. || Adult Ballet AU || Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Doctor John, Song Fic, Pre-Slash) – I always loved Sergei Polunin interpretation of Take me to the church so I decided to write a version where Sherlock is a ballet dancer in serious need of a doctor…

I Didn't Know I How Much I Needed You by Jaci4Narnia (M, 4,270 +w., 3/? Ch. || WiP || Teen Ballet/Rugby High School AU || Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Rugby Player John, Gay Sherlock, Underage Sex, Graphic Violence, Teenage Drama, Blow Jobs, Anal/Oral, Spanking, Implied Past Child Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Drug Abuse, Prostitution, Sex Worker Sherlock, Pimp!Moran) – Sherlock is an orphaned boy raised by his abusive foster father. He's under the control of an over-bearing and cruel pimp, Sebastian Moran, who makes a lot of money off of Sherlock's ability to seduce anyone. Treated like a worthless whore, Sherlock feels loved for the first time when he meets John Watson, a rugby player with a hard life. The two boys are drawn to each other instantly and thus begins a beautiful relationship that neither of the boys have ever experienced before.

Whatever you say, Gobbo by Ewebie (T, 4,608 w., 1 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || Balletlock, Rugby John) – “I purposely get your coffee order wrong just so you’ll talk to me again” AU. Part 33 of the Tumblr Shorts series

Take Me To Church by Daziechane (M, 6,370 w., 1 Ch. || Ballet, Song Fic, First Kiss / Time) – John’s days blurred. It didn’t even bother him anymore, that he wasn’t onstage. At least, that’s what he told himself every time he clocked in for another shift. Sherlock’s days blurred. It didn’t even bother him anymore, that he wasn’t onstage. At least, that’s what he told himself every time he stepped into 221B.

Open or Closed? by dragonQuill907 (T, 8,038 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock || Mystrade, Hoopford, Truth or Dare, Ballet Sherlock, Rugby John) – In which they're all in uni, Irene's having a party, and they decide to play truth or dare.

The Dancer and The Captain by Mssmithlove (E, 17,313 w., 1 Ch. || Teenager AU || Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Rugby John, New Relationship) – Ballet has always been Sherlock's first love, but when a certain rugby captain starts hanging around, well, that may just change.

Thirteen Dances (Or, The Doctor Dances) by Knackorcraft (E, 17,544 w., 13 Ch. || Dirty Dancing, Tango, Ballet, Frottage) – John is a great dancer: we're talking all types. Not only is he able to pop and lock it, he's got some great ballet technique. He was best at lifting / holding girls.

Pas de Deux by shevrlock (T, 20,341 w., 14 Ch. || Teen Balllet / Rugby AU || Fluff, Angst) – Sherlock Holmes is a gifted ballet dancer in industrial, unforgiving 1980s Newcastle, bullied and teased for doing what he loves. One day, as he and Molly leave the dance studio, her boyfriend Greg is waiting outside accompanied by his new rugby captain: one John Watson. Surrounded by hate and homophobia they find themselves drawn to each other, using love to escape the harsh reality of life growing up with prejudice. Ballet!lock/Rugby!john inspired by Billy Elliot.

Out and Loud by paradigmfinch (M, 28,233 w., 8 Ch. || Popstar AU || Dancer/Ballet Sherlock / Singer John, Fluff, Falling in Love, Mutual Pining, Jealousy) – John Watson is a 22 year old pop star who's about to come crashing out of the closet. Sherlock Holmes is a reluctant fanboy auditioning to dance in his next music video. Part 1 of Out and Loud

Feeling Seen by jadztone (E, 30,177 w., 9 Ch. || Ballet!Sherlock / Rugby!John, Demisexuality, Virgin John, Experienced Sherlock, Toplock, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Background Molly/Irene & Greg/Sally) – Rugby player John is starting over at a new university, with the help of friends Molly and Bill. Few people know that John is demisexual, but ballet dancer Sherlock Holmes deduces right away that he has no interest in sex unless he’s fallen in love. John finds this strange genius intriguing and would like to get to know him, but Sherlock has a self-cultivated reputation for only wanting casual sex. John has reason to believe that’s not really true, but he’s not sure he wants to risk his twice-fractured heart to find out.

Entre Nous (Between Us) by hogwartswitch (E, 38,261 w., 18 Ch. || Ballet / Rugby AU || Chance Meetings, Fluff, Slow Burn, Foot Massage, Rugby John / Ballet Sherlock, Flirting, Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Arguing, Sexual Harassment, Anal, Rimming, Masturnation, Voyerurism, Red Pants, Stalking, Dancing, Attempted Sexual Assault, Kidnapping, Fights, Violence, Recovery, Angst with Happy Ending) – A chance encounter with a blonde stranger on New Year's Eve in London leaves ballet dancer, Sherlock Holmes, breathless. Five years later, he meets a rugby-playing doctor who turns his world upside down.

Brooklyn Heat, Summer Jazz by Zigster (E, 41,820 w., 10 Ch. || New York Ballet AU || Jazz Pianist John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Modern Setting, Brooding Sherlock , Confused John, Non-Linear Storytelling, Sexual Tension, Angst, Alcohol / Pot / Club Drug Use, First Time, Not-Good Mycroft, Happy Ending) – "There was, however, one thing that made it easier to stay on his piano bench every day. One thing that kept John Watson showing up to class on time, every morning at ten with a large thermos of honeyed tea and a conviction to see a job well done. His name was Sherlock Holmes and he was the most confounding and extraordinary thing John had ever come across - the most exotic of birds and the most unattainable of men."

Blond Barista Seeks Dashing Ballet Dancer: Inquire Within by prettysailorsoldier (E, 43,847 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock Coffee Shop AU || Rugby/Barista John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Fluff) – Between classes, his job at a local cafe, and being captain of the rugby team, John Watson's life is plenty stressful enough without the addition of a mysterious ballet dancer he can see through the windows of the dance studio across the street, but, somehow, he can't bring himself to mind.

Sticking the Landing by SweetMandolins (M, 44,826 w. 17 Ch. || Olympics AU || Gymnast John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Rhythmic Gymnastics, Falling in Love, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Bisexual John, Muscular John, Humour, Jealous John, Side Mystrade) – John Watson, Captain of Team GB’s gymnastics squad is confident and primed for his third and final Olympics. Disappointed in London with a shoulder injury putting paid to his Olympic dream, can he secure an Olympic gold finish before retirement? Meanwhile, Sherlock Holmes has other problems. Men’s Rhythmic Gymnastics is the newest Olympic sport, but a series of peculiar accidents both on and off the floor have taken out some of the competitors. Does something more sinister lurk under the spangles and spandex? Can Sherlock solve the mystery in time to deliver a flawless ball routine? And does something more valuable than medals await the boys in Rio?

The Doubtful Comforts of Human Love by PoppyAlexander (M, 61,500 w. || Ballet / Rugby AU || Ballet Sherlock / Rugby John, Est. Long-Term Relationship, Marriage, Case Fic, Blow Jobs, Implied Infidelity, Angst, Dirty Talk, Violent Outbursts, Arguments, Relationship Discussions, Love Letters, Grand Gestures, Hopeful Ending) – UK Ballet principal dancer Sherlock Holmes and assistant rugby coach John Watson met and fell in love as ambitious, optimistic teenagers. Twenty years on, they are entering midlife, facing the break-down of their bodies and the ending of their careers, and contemplating what the future holds for two middle-aged men forced to start over. With a frightening crisis unfolding at the Ballet, Sherlock must balance the demands of his career, his friendships, and his marriage with his own struggle against bitterness and discontent, while John takes a long-overdue glance from the outside, in, and stutter-steps toward making a kind of peace.

A Moment's Surrender by anchors (M, 64,272 w., 10 Ch. || Dancer AU || Ballet Sherlock, Swing Dancer John, Angsty Fluff, Romance, Swing Dancing) – Sherlock tours worldwide with the English National Ballet. John dances the Lindy Hop competitively all across the globe. That they would meet, then, by the slimmest of chances in one lonely city, is pure coincidence. The whole 'dancing together' bit is a little more planned.

Roommates are for little people by alexxphoenix42 (E, 69,042 w., 14 Ch. || Teen/Unilock || Forced to Share a Bed, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Relationship, Sherlock is a Prick, Drinking, Inadvertent Drug Use, Family Wedding, Footballer John / Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Frottage, Slow Burn, Mild Dub Con, Cuddling While Sleeping, Slight Homophobia, Posh Boy, Dirty Dancing, Endearments, Nosy FAmily, Bathing Together, Mild Angst, UST/RST, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff) – John was looking forward to seeing his friends back at uni, but a new year brings new complications, not the least of which is a dorm room with only one bed, and a stroppy roommate with an utterly spectacular arse. God, John doesn't need the headache.

A Study in Movement by Supernova12 (E, 69,869 w., 21 Ch. || Balletlock, Rugby!John, Drawing, First Time, Texting, Angst, Happy Ending) To improve his drawing, John has to study the movement of ballet dancers. One particular dancer seems to be the perfect candidate.

Toe to Toe by standbygo (E, 44,971 w., 26 Ch. || White Nights Crossover || Ballet/Dance, Slow Burn, Spies/Secret Agents, Angst with Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss/Time, Shower Sex) – Sherlock Holmes is an international ballet star. After a favour for his brother goes south, he finds himself trapped in a foreign country, with a man named John Watson who could be an enemy... or an ally.

-------

Add your own if you got one! <3

[criminol]

The Murder of Leigh Leigh

Leigh Rennea Mears, later known as Leigh Leigh when she took her stepfather's last name, was a 14-year-old girl living in Australia. She enjoyed going to the cinema and roller-skating and hoped to become a veterinarian when she grew up. On 3rd November 1989, high school student Jason Robertson threw a party to celebrate his 16th birthday. Most of the students were Newcastle High School students like Leigh and Jason, there were only two adults at the party, Matthew Webster and Guy Wilson who acted as bouncers. About 60 people attended the party, many drank alcohol and smoked marijuana. Leigh had been invited to the party, her mother had allowed her to go until 11 pm, she was very excited as it was the first party she had attended. According to police reports, Leigh was one of several underage girls invited to the party, with the intention being to get them drunk and sexually assault them. 19-year-old Webster approached another person at the party and said 'Hey dude, we're going to get Leigh pissed and all go through her.' Leigh was given a bottle of whiskey and was reported to have been very intoxicated very quickly. A 15-year-old boy, referred to only as NC1 due to his age, was heard saying 'I'm going to go and fuck Leigh,' shortly afterwards NC1 was seen taking Leigh to the beach. Witnesses testified Leigh was so drunk he had to carry her there. When Leigh returned from the beach, she was crying and bleeding between her legs, other guests tried to console her and find out what happened and she told them she had been raped and that she 'hated' NC1. After hearing Leigh's complaints, Webster was heard referring to Leigh in a derogatory way and suggesting they all 'have a go,' he then approached Leigh, put his arm around her and asked her for sex. Leigh refused and Wilson pushed Leigh to the ground, Webster and around ten other boys joined Wilson, they surrounded Leigh, shouted at her, kicked her, poured beer on her and spat on her. Several people witnessed the assault yet no one helped Leigh or attempted to call for help. Leigh stood up when the boys stopped and staggered away, throwing a bottle at them, Wilson threw a bottle back at her as she left. The boys then followed Leigh around the party continuing to insult and assault her. Leigh was seen leaving and walking towards the beach at around 10.30 pm. Leigh's stepfather arrived to pick Leigh up at 10.50 pm but could not find her, they assumed she had gone to a friend's house for the night and waited for her at home. The next morning, Leigh's body was found in the sand dunes, 300 feet away from the party. Leigh was naked except for her shoes and socks, her underwear and shorts were around her ankle and she lay on her back with her legs apart. Her bra, sweater and shirt had been discarded nearby and were inside out and stained with alcohol. A 5.3kg bloodstained rock was found next to her. Leigh had died from a fractured skull which had caused a brain injury, she had been struck with force several times. Leigh suffered multiple, brutal injuries including to her jaw, ribs, liver and kidney, she had also been choked before she had died. She had also been violently sexually assaulted with deep and extensive bruising, lacerations and tears, it was likely she had been raped with a foreign object, possibly a beer bottle. Police began the long task of interviewing the teenagers at the party. NC1 admitted having sex with Leigh but claimed it had been consensual. Wilson initially denied doing anything but later admitted to pushing Leigh, pouring beer on her, spitting on her and throwing a beer bottle at her. Webster admitted pouring beer on Leigh and claimed he had gone for a walk after the party but denied sexually assaulting or killing Leigh. On 16th November, Webster pleaded guilty to assaulting Leigh and was released on bail. On 19th January, Wilson pleaded guilty to assaulting Leigh and was also released on bail. On 31st January, Leigh's stepfather punched Willson three times because Wilson told Leigh's stepfather he would 'get' Leigh's younger sister next, her stepfather was charged and pleaded guilty for assault. While on bail Webster admitted to murdering Leigh stating he lost his temper when Leigh rejected him, he claimed he had choked Leigh and then killed her with a rock because he "thought she would squeal on [him] for trying to rape her." NC1 was sentenced for having sex with someone under the age of consent, he was given just six months custody in a detention centre, he was never charged with rape. The sentence was later reduced to 100 hours of community service. NC1 also admitted having sex with another underage girl at the party and was never charged. Wilson was sentenced to 6 months in prison for assaulting Leigh. Webster pleaded guilty to Leigh's murder and was sentenced to 14 years in prison, 6 of which he could not apply for parole. Five citizens were able to give favourable character descriptions at his sentencing which influenced the short sentence. There was public outrage at the shortness of the sentences as well as the fact Leigh had experienced a high level of sustained sexual violence with forensic genital injuries yet there were no rape charges. Only charging NC1 with consensual sex with an underage partner when she had been unable to consent and subject to a violent rape prompted complaints of victim-blaming. Webster was released on parole on 10th June 2005. His parole was revoked in November 2004 for assault, he pleaded self-defence and was released again in May 2005 after the charges were dropped due to insufficient evidence. The investigation was heavily criticised; many speculated Webster had not acted alone and there were indications Leigh had suffered blows from multiple directions suggesting more than one perpetrator. Wilson had no alibi at the time of her death.

[bob100399]

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[artificialqueens]

Me and You Together, 4/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: fam this response is crazy it really is…thank u all so much for the love, kudos and comments, i’m so sorry if i’ve not managed to reply to urs yet but know that i’ve read them all and cherish every one and i will get round to replying and yelling some love and thanks at u soon!!! pls enjoy this chapter in which A'whora does not possess the flat’s shared brain cell at any point. that being said, i wish all the readers of this fic a very pleasant italicised ‘oh’ xo

last chapter: January-Tayce and A’whora still had unfinished business from a night out and a hungover morning in December.

this chapter: October- The gang make plans for their first year together, Tia gives everyone plans for the evening, and A'whora has a realisation that will change the dynamic of her friendship with Tayce forever.

***

“Bimini, what is it you’re actually doing?”

A’whora’s intrigued by the way her flatmate’s sitting on the sofa: legs crossed, notepad in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and looking deep in thought. They’ve not long since stretched over the smoke detector with a sock, having long since established nobody in the flat minds them smoking indoors as long as the windows are open. Lawrence is beside them on the other end of the sofa having been to all the lectures that’re required of her already today and has got a bright pink, blue and purple-flecked ball of yarn hanging from two knitting needles, with which she seems to be knitting some sort of cosy accessory. It’s a wholesome picture that’s playing out in front of A’whora, one that’s miles away from the raucous, drunk nights they’ve all shared in the first month of uni so far.

“Okay, here’s what it is,” Bimini starts, clicking their long nails together. “I am making us a freshers bucket list, and I want your input.”

“Ooh!” Lawrence perks up beside them, and A’whora, interest piqued, picks up the bowl of pasta, butter and cheese she’s spent all of five minutes making and crosses the room to sit beside her flatmates.

She knows it’s only been a month so far, but she really loves everyone she’s living with. For a start, there are four of them that take classes at the art college (the ‘art hoes’, as Tayce calls them), so they all get to walk to lectures together and hang about between classes and workshops with each other depending on how their days are going. Bimini is almost always in the flat, with not a lot of contact hours making up their journalism degree, so they’re a comforting presence for A’whora to come home to at whatever hour of the day, always asking how she is and always offering to make her coffee. Tia is sweet and funny (if ever-so-slightly grating to her at first) and they’ve bonded over being the only two flatmates seemingly able to keep the place clean and tidy. Lawrence is endearing and big-hearted, if A’whora spends half her life hoping that her next prank isn’t involving her in some way (Ellie is usually the butt of them). Ellie herself is one of A’whora’s closest flatmates; they’ll often stay up half the night finishing prototypes or assignments together, all while watching a film which they have spookily similar taste in- they’ve agreed on 101 and 102 Dalmatians, Hocus Pocus, and The Wizard of Oz so far.

And then there’s Tayce, who A’whora thinks is both the absolute carbon copy of herself and yet also so different, the yin to her yang. Tayce has been her closest friend in the flat since day one when she booted the door to her room down and dragged her out of her emotional stupor, and that’s really what’s set the tone for the rest of their friendship; Tayce, upbeat and motivating, constantly and infectiously helping A’whora feel the same way even when she doesn’t want to go out, or doesn’t feel like dragging herself out of her room for a chill flat night with the others, or even when she just feels like a heap of shit. She’s such a fun and positive person to be around, relentlessly optimistic and goofy, and she brings out that side of A’whora too. As opposed to during sixth form and high school, where she’d put up a front to make sure nobody fucked with her, A’whora finds that at uni she can be the person she truly is and let her guard down a little.

This includes being open about her sexuality for the first time ever. She’s out to her family (for the better or worse), but nobody else back home knows (not even her friends) and she wants to keep it that way for now. But at uni things are different- nobody knows her here, nobody has these preconceived ideas of who she is and who she has to be, so she’d taken the plunge and been open about everything. None of the others had cared of course, in fact they’d all been too excited about the fact there’s not a single straight person in their flat comprised of four lesbians (Tayce, Lawrence, Tia and A’whora), one bi (Ellie) and one pan (Bimini).

“What’ve you got so far?” A’whora asks Bimini, sitting down on the sofa opposite her two flatmates.

Bimini reads off their notepad. “Casino night, bottomless brunch…get the train down to Newcastle, have a big night out, stay out all night an’ get the first train home-”

“Christ, that’ll be a challenge for me, you know I get sleepy around midnight,” Lawrence chuckles.

Bimini shrugs. “We’ll just get you an IV drip of Ellie’s Monster, you’ll be alright.”

“What else’ve you got?”

“That’s it so far.”

A’whora spears a pasta spiral, tilts her head in thought as she eats it. “Get drunk in a lecture.”

“Aw, good one!” Lawrence cries enthusiastically. Bimini, for their part, frowns with disapproval.

“Wait, no! Not a good one. Not a good one at all. It’s alright for you art school bitches, you’ve got some lectures together and you can coordinate, where does that leave me n’ Tia?”

“I guess that leaves you…downing a bottle of five pound chardonnay on the back bench of a lecture hall like a tramp with a drinking problem,” Lawrence shrugs, A’whora yelping out a laugh as Bimini shoves Lawrence with their foot.

Just then, there’s movement in the hall and as A’whora turns around she’s greeted by the sight of a tired-looking Tayce and Ellie walking into the kitchen. They shrug off their coats and take off their shoes and dump their bags on the kitchen table with a huff before they walk over to the others. Tayce spreads herself out over the sofa that A’whora’s sitting on, thudding her feet onto her lap without asking permission, to which A’whora instantly pushes them off her and gets a glare and a smirk in return.

“Lawrie, are you knitting?” Ellie laughs, sitting on the arm of the sofa beside her.

“Yeah? And?”

Ellie snorts in amusement. “Just didn’t realise we were living with a wee granny.”

“Well actually, bawbag! I was in the middle of making you a scarf because I can’t stand to listen to you talking shite about how you’re cold every time we leave the flat, but I can leave it if you want,” Lawrence explains. A’whora thinks it’s funny how Ellie backtracks immediately; she can’t tell if she’s blushing or just out of breath from scaling their block’s stairs. Bimini gains control of the conversation, tilting their head in intrigue.

“How were your lectures, huns?”

“Shit, thanks for asking,” Tayce groans, thudding her head down dramatically against the sofa cushions. “I don’t know, I just can’t concentrate when I’m getting talked at for an hour at a time. I need to be doing stuff, you know?”

“Feel that,” Ellie joins in, deflated. A’whora can sympathise- she loves the practical elements of her course, but not so much the lectures. She’s glad she shares a lot of them with Ellie, and the two of them can dick about and text each other and doodle designs in their notebooks while keeping one ear on whoever’s speaking.

“Well if you want to be doing something, you can help us with this,” Bimini suggests, explaining the bucket list they’ve been making.

The girls get settled and the ideas start to flow, Lawrence putting her speakers on for background noise as they all come up with new and increasingly more chaotic exploits. Ellie suggests trying every cocktail in Levels which gets scribbled down into Bimini’s notepad, and Tayce suggests going to Levels sober, which doesn’t get afforded the same appreciation. A’whora comes up with crashing the catered halls for breakfast one day, which they all agree is a good idea but the chances of it actually happening are low considering the earliest riser in the flat is Tayce and even she doesn’t waken up til half nine on a weekend.

“What’re some clubs we’ve not been to yet?” Bimini asks, shrugging. “Could put those down, try an’ visit every one in the city?”

Lawrence snorts derisively. “You go to Underground if you want your phone stolen, Velvet if you want to be bullied by fifteen year olds in the toilets, and Crystal if you want to subject yourself to painful misogyny and probably some light sexual assault.”

“So none of those, then,” Bimini murmurs.

“Those are all really het as well, though,” Ellie wrinkles her nose up in distaste. Then her face lights up as she gets an idea. “Oh! Put down Pride in July.”

“Nice one,” Bimini nods as they scribble down Ellie’s suggestion, the others making little hums of approval.

The conversation goes on for quite some time. Halfway through it Tayce seems to decide she’s bored of lying down and instead moves to sit on the floor between A’whora’s legs, asking her to play with her hair. They’ll do this sometimes- it’s a routine they fall into, A’whora being able to style Tayce’s endlessly long, straight hair and Tayce finding the whole thing therapeutic. They have a lot of little routines like this: they’ll sit close together on the sofa during a flat movie night and take turns leaning on each others’ shoulders, spontaneously give each other hugs at random points throughout the day, trace patterns into each others’ palms when the other seems stressed.

It’s nice. A’whora’s never really had a friendship like this, soft and caring and kind. In school her group was the kind that made catty jokes about each other then buffered them with a “love you!” afterwards and took kissy-face group selfies only to bitch about each other on a private group chat mere hours later. If it was a wolfpack then it was rabid and cannibalistic, and it had seemed like a full-time job ensuring she was never the runt of it. What she’s got with all her flatmates now- especially Tayce- makes her feel like she can finally breathe.

“What about the Centurion Challenge?” Lawrence suggests with a small gasp, breaking A’whora’s reverie as she expertly twirls Tayce’s hair into a loose and chunky French plait.

“Jesus Christ, Lawrence,” Ellie mutters in amusement.

“What’s the Centurion Challenge?” Bimini asks, pulling a face.

Lawrence gives a blythe shrug as she elaborates. “A hundred shots in a hundred minutes.”

A’whora ruins Tayce’s braid in shock, her hair untwisting itself from the braid as if it’s outraged too. The cry she gives joins in harmony with that of Tayce’s and Bimini’s. “A hundred shots? You’d fucking die!”

“Not of vodka! Obviously not of vodka! I know we all have one communal brain cell between us but Christ, can one of yous not use it?!” Lawrence protests. “It’s a hundred shots of beer. Don’t shit yourselves.”

“Aw, well that’s alright then,” Bimini pipes up sarcastically. “What’s actually wrong with Scottish people? Is your breastmilk spiked with whiskey? What d’you get instead of Cow and Gate formula, just cocaine?"

“Actually, a hundred shots of beer sounds more doable to me,” Tayce shrugs, and A’whora can feel her relax against her lap.

“I’d need to change it, I can’t stand beer,” A’whora considers. Ellie cocks her head in consideration.

“Well what alcohol do you like?”

“Fucking none of it,” A’whora laughs. “Cocktails. Vodka cokes. Anything where there’s juice to cover it up.”

Tayce twists her head to look up at her, a little twinkle of mischief in her eye. “I think the challenge ceases to be a challenge when it’s reduced to one hundred watered down shots of Woo Woo, Rory.”

As the others blurt out a laugh A’whora glares down at Tayce, but she can’t help but break out into a giggle too when Tayce grabs her knee and gives it a playful wobble, letting her know she was only joking without even having to say a thing.

A’whora’s not sure what time it is when she hears the front door swing shut and Tia emerges from the hallway, her long hair all messed up from the seemingly ever-present wind outside and almost obscuring the bright smile plastered on her face. “Hey, huns!”

“Oi oi,” Tayce greets her from her position on the floor. “What’s got you so smiley?”

“Nooothing,” Tia smirks, dragging the word out playfully. “Just got an invite to the night out of a very cute girl in my MT society…and she said you guys can all come too. Pres at her flat and then out to The Avenue. Evening plans sorted?”

“Oh, love that!” Bimini gives an enthusiastic clap. “Go on then, who’s the girl? Whose night are we crashing?”

“Her name’s Veronica,” Tia smiles bashfully. “She’s so lovely. Honestly, she wouldn’t mind you coming! She’s got one of the big flats over at Gourock Court so it’s not like it’ll be packed.”

“You don’t exactly want to go to a party that’s not going to be packed,” Ellie screws up her nose. She looks unimpressed and her tone is flat. “And even if it is, I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a flat party with a ton of new people, Tia.”

A’whora’s face drops and she locks eyes with Lawrence simultaneously, who’s got an equally incredulous look on her face. “Els, are you unwell? You never turn down a night out.”

Ellie shrugs quietly, not giving much away on her face. Tia, obviously keen to move to the girl she’s crushing on, carries on persuading her. “C’mon, Eleanor, don’t be such a fucking…square! It’s the musical theatre society, we’re just a walking Pride festival who all happen to be able to hold a tune. There’s loads of fit lesbians?”

“Well if I wasn’t convinced before, I sure am now,” Tayce purrs, a little smile appearing on her lips and a cheeky twinkle in her eyes. A’whora feels her laugh come out weakly. She doesn’t know why, but an odd, uncomfortable feeling lodges itself in her gut. She can’t quite put her finger on what exactly it is or why it’s put itself there.

“And there’s gonna be so many musicals on the playlist!” Tia continues to insist, despite being met with Ellie’s sour face. “I know you’ll love it! They’d probably even play stuff from Shrek if you got them drunk enough.”

A’whora can’t help but scrunch up her nose in distaste. “Hey, I’m only coming if they play fucking…normal people music as well. I’m not gonna be sat in a room with twenty white kids trying to rap to Hamilton or whatever the fuck it is.”

Tia rolls her eyes, plants her hands on her hips in exasperation. “Calm down, A’whora, you’ll still get all the top 40 dance-pop shit you love so much.”

“To be honest, it sounds class. And The Avenue’s always good,” Bimini cuts in calmly. A’whora does have to agree with that. They’ve not been there in a while- the bar across the road from the city’s most popular LGBT club- and its selection of early 00s pop princess tracks combined with its deal of two vodka mixers and a shot for a fiver makes it a guaranteed good night out.

“Well it seems like we’re all down, even if this stroppy cow isn’t,” Tia smiles happily, sticking her tongue out at Ellie for good measure. Ellie finally heaves a world-weary sigh, rolling her eyes dramatically as she relents.

“Ugh, fine! Fine, but this Verruca or whatever the hell she’s called better be the hottest bitch on the planet for you to drag us all out with your MT weirdos, Tia Maria,” she grumps. Tia ignores her bad mood and lets out a cheer which the others join in with, and A’whora resolves to interrogate Ellie about her Bitter Betty attitude later on. Preferably when they’re both drunk. That always makes things easier.

In the melee of excitement, Tayce twists round from her position on the carpet, folds her arms and rests them on top of A’whora’s thighs. “Right. You need to come help me choose an outfit if we’re going out. I need to look fit.”

A’whora smiles with pride. “Ooh, personal stylist duties? I’m honoured.”

“Well I’m hardly gonna ask Tia, am I?” Tayce giggles quietly, and A’whora joins in like it’s a little secret they’re sharing. “Or Ellie. She’d just send me out in one of her bodysuit/skirt combos. I swear to God that girl is like Marge bloody Simpson. Open up her wardrobe and she’ll have twenty sets of the same outfit. Serial killer behaviour, that.”

At this point A’whora is laughing so much that it draws the attention of the others, who eye them with suspicious stares. “What the hell’s so funny?”

A’whora gives Tayce a mischievous look. “Tayce just called Ellie a serial killer.”

Tayce yelps in outrage at having been called out, and as Ellie narrows her eyes Tayce leaps up from the floor and tugs A’whora off of the sofa with her. “That’s taking it out of context, you absolute hound! Come on, help me pick something.”

Tayce’s fingers stay curled around A’whora’s hand all the way down the corridor and into her bedroom. It’s a feeling that A’whora likes because it makes her feel close to her friend, and Tayce taking her hand is like an affirmation and a reassurance all in one; that she likes her, that their friendship has reached the level where hand-holding has become acceptable, that A’whora is worthy of being liked, of being someone’s friend- their real, proper friend. The validation sets her heart off like a flare. It’s nice to feel wanted.

A’whora perches on the edge of Tayce’s bed as she scrapes the coat hangers in her wardrobe and throws outfits onto the bed like a tornado, each more gorgeous than the last and all ones Tayce would look stunning in. That’s something that always strikes A’whora about Tayce; just how beautiful she is, how absolutely blessed with the God-given good genes. The way she looks serene and ethereal without makeup, walking to lectures in the morning with the sun hitting her face and giving her skin a glow. The way she paints for a night out and knows how to accentuate everything about her face that’s already perfect, a feat that would seem like an exaggeration if A’whora hadn’t seen it for herself to confirm it’s true. She frequently finds herself having to hold back from giving compliments to Tayce because if she started she’d never stop.

“Okay, first thoughts are…” Tayce announces unnecessarily loudly, and A’whora laughs at the way she’s talking as if she’s a stylist on a morning TV show. “…I’m thinking something black.”

“Of course you are,” A’whora interrupts with a laugh. “Tayce wearing black. How predictable.”

Tayce gives her a shove on the shoulder that’s too hard and makes her fall back against the mattress. “Shut up! I’ll wear something other than black when Lawrence wears something other than purple, how’s about that?”

The pair of them giggle at the joke as Tayce rifles through the clothes she’s shortlisted, holding up a black leather jacket and a black bralet with an intricate lace hem. The combination makes A’whora’s eyes fly wide open in appreciation.

“This?” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her inquisitively. The fact she’s obviously seen her reaction makes A’whora feel a little self-conscious and she doesn’t particularly know why. “Because I’m wanting to wear either my wet-look leggings or my black vinyl skirt with the zip up the front, and I don’t know if that’s too much leather effect stuff?”

“It’s too much,” A’whora nods, physically unable to help her honesty. “Also I think you should wear the skirt because you’ve got good legs and you should get them out any chance you get. But also the bralet won’t go with it because it’ll make your proportions all wrong.”

Tayce smiles appreciatively as she throws the bralet back into her wardrobe as if A’whora’s given her a command and not a suggestion. “See, this is another reason why you’re the queen of outfit advice. Bimini wouldn’t give me this level of honesty, they’re too nice.”

A’whora feels a warmth spread in her chest at the compliment, but she doesn’t show it. Instead she snorts, nods in agreement. “Yeah, because you could come out dressed in a pair of child’s pyjamas and they’d still say they love it. They’d say it’s very Y2K or something.”

Tayce lets out a cackle before holding up the skirt and leather jacket, humming in thought. “Okay, so you’re saying ditch the jacket but keep the skirt.”

“Yes.”

“And ditch the bralet.”

“Yes.”

“So you want me to go out in a skirt and a pair of heels and nothing else,” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her, and as A’whora bursts out laughing and protests she has to fight off a blush at the thought of her best friend topless in heels. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt with a zip that could just be pulled down to leave her in-

The heat floods A’whora’s face like she’s been smacked and she shifts on the bed in an attempt at dissipating the feelings that’ve hit her like a tsunami. Inappropriate. Weird. Way too weird. Don’t do that again.

“What about the bright blue fur coat you’ve got? Because you could have an all black outfit with that as a bit of colour,” she suggests, shrugging lightly in an attempt to pretend that she hadn’t just been thinking about Tayce in the way she had.

Tayce’s face lights up and she points at A’whora with one hand and reaches into her wardrobe with the other. “Love that. Okay, top?”

“Are you addressing me? I’ve never topped for anyone,” A’whora attempts a joke. If Tayce can make jokes like that to her then she can do it right back.  

“That’s very clear, baby,” Tayce shoots in response without missing a beat. Before A’whora realises it, she’s flexing her toes. What the fuck is happening to her? She needs to steer this conversation back on track.

She thinks for a second. “You’re a size eight, right?”

“In theory. The amount of pot noodles I’ve been chucking down my neck since I moved in is very quickly rendering that a distant memory, I’ll tell ya,” Tayce says, as she leans against the door of her wardrobe and folds her arms.

“I’ve got a black lace bodysuit that would go with that. It’s a ten so it’ll fit. D’you want to try it?”

“Well despite the fact a skirt and a bodysuit was the very thing I just roasted Ellie for always wearing…that sounds lush. Thanks, Rory Roo,” Tayce agrees, the nickname-of-a-nickname setting off the click of a small pilot light in A’whora’s heart. She’s about to ask if she wants to come try it on just now when she hears both their names being yelled from the kitchen.

The pair of them head back through to find that Tia has changed the playlist on the speakers from the chilled-out, calm acoustic one that had been playing to her early 00’s tunes. Combined with Bimini half-singing, half-yelling along to Murder on the Dancefloor and the blast of the extractor fan as Ellie stirs something in a big metal pot at the hob, it’s a far cry from the calm, cosy scene that A’whora had witnessed in the kitchen some hours prior.

Ellie had been the one who had shouted on them, and she whips around from the cooker when she realises that Tayce and A’whora have come through. “I’m making dinner for me, Bims and Tia, you wanting some?”

“Depends what it is. Come on, talk it up, Ellie. Give us some options,” Tayce shrugs with feigned disinterest, and A’whora can’t help the bubble of laughter that bursts from her mouth as Ellie narrows her eyes at her.

“It’s spaghetti and meatballs, and your alternatives are fuck off or die,” she shoots back savagely, and the whoop of shock and laughter that goes up from the others soars above the music and the fan. Tayce laughs good-naturedly in spite of the barb.

“I’m joking, ‘course I’ll take some.”

A’whora wrinkles her nose. “You’re making meatballs for a meal that Bimini is gonna eat?”

“They’re not real ones, dipshit,” Bimini pipes up from over on the sofa. “It’s that Birdseye Green Cuisine shit, innit.”

“Birdseye Green Cuisine shit,” A’whora repeats disdainfully. “If you ever go on The Apprentice, Bim, Alan Sugar’s gonna shit himself at your selling abilities.”

Tayce snorts, tries and fails to cover it up. When her eyes rest on A’whora they share a little smile, and A’whora’s grows bigger when she thinks about the way they’re both so in sync all the time.

“They’re nice, I promise! Veronica’s talked them up loads, she told me she’s been trying to eat more veggie things,” Tia insists, with an entirely unnecessary namedrop of her crush. A’whora relents and says she’ll have a small bowl before jumping out of her skin as Ellie bangs the spoon against the pot somewhat aggressively with a face like thunder.

Before A’whora can ask Ellie about her bad mood, Tia speaks again as she scrolls her phone to change the song. “Honestly, Ellie, you’re a star for doing dinner. Thanks so much.”

“Aw, don’t be silly, doll! It’s nothing!” Ellie turns around from the hob and bats the compliment away, shooting Tia a dazzling smile in return. It’s funny the way her demeanour seems to instantly do a complete 180 at the praise, and it makes A’whora wonder what’s changed.

She’s distracted, though, by the way Lawrence enters in her dressing gown with her hair up in a towel, obviously having come straight from the shower. She pouts and whines in a very un-Lawrence way as she lingers at the doorframe between the hall and the kitchen.

“Guysss, does anyone have an ID they can give me for tonight?”

“What about your friend? Who was it…Rosé?” A’whora shrugs, and Lawrence fixes her with a wide-eyed stare of incredulity.

“Oh my God, A’whora! I never thought about asking the girl I’ve been borrowing ID from since the start of uni! Thanks for that!” she says sarcastically, Bimini giving a yelp of laughter and A’whora leaning off the countertops and swiping at Lawrence in retort. “She’s using it. She asked her girlfriend and her flatmates for me but they’ve all got plans. I felt like a fuckin’ daytime TV charity advert.”

“For just one pound a week, you could help an underaged child get blackout drunk on triple trebles,” A’whora puts on a dramatic, concerned voice, proud of the way it makes Tayce blurt out a laugh.

“It’s such fucking bullshit,” Lawrence huffs, leaning against the fridge and folding her arms. “I mean my eighteenth’s in five days and I’ve been drinking in parks since I was fourteen, how can I not just be let into a fuckin’ bar?”

“Grow up and order a fake one,” Ellie shakes her head with incredulity, smashing the wooden spoon against the pot again with a bang-bang-bang to get the excess pasta sauce off.

“Just you pipe down, hen, you shouldn’t even be at uni. In fact, have you even completed primary yet?”

The two girls stick their tongues out at each other, a mirror-image of petty bickering that makes A’whora laugh. Luckily Bimini steps in, shrugging as they open their purse.

“Here, babe. I’ve still got my course friend’s provisional from when she dropped it on Gordon Street when she was off her face. I ain’t given her it back yet an’ I’m sure she wouldn’t care if you borrowed it. She’s chill.”

Lawrence accepts enthusiastically, bouncing over to Bimini and thanking them gratefully. A’whora watches her face drop, though, when she takes a look at the photo.

“There’s no way this’ll work.”

Bimini tuts and shakes their head, the picture of casual composure. “It’s fine, babes, they never look properly anyway.”

Lawrence drops the hand that’s holding the license to her side and fixes her friend with an astounded glare. “Bimini. This girl is black.”

As the others screech with outrage and mirth, Bimini waves Lawrence’s concerns away blithely. “It’ll be dark! It’s fine! Asttina an’ you have both got similar…well…you’re both girls, an’ you’re about the same height. Give or take a few inches.”    

“Christ. I’m going to have to just forward roll past the bouncers, aren’t I? Then draw a fuckin’ club stamp on my arm in Sharpie.”

“Oh my God, stop moaning!” Ellie sighs from her position at the hob, bangs the spoon again for emphasis. “Look, I’ll ask Pippa from flat 2, alright? You both have brown hair, so…that’ll probably be enough.”

A’whora thinks it’s interesting the way Lawrence doesn’t shoot something back in her foghorn of a voice like she normally does. Instead she smiles warmly, dashes over to the kitchen where she hugs Ellie from behind, squeezing her tightly at the stomach and making her flinch in surprise.

“Thanks, Ellie-Bellie,” she sing-songs, swaying her aggressively from side to side until Ellie bats her away, flicking the spoon in a way that threatens to shower them both in marinara sauce.

“Right, that’s plenty. Don’t even do things I enjoy for that long.”

“When’s this gonna be ready, Els?” Bimini shouts through as Lawrence lets go. “ ‘Ave I got time to do my makeup before it?”

Ellie shrugs. “If you can do your makeup in ten minutes.”

A’whora kicks her leg out in Tayce’s direction and jerks her head towards the hall. “Do you want to try on that bodysuit before tea?”

Tayce nods enthusiastically in agreement, so they go back along the corridor with a shout to the others telling them they won’t be long. A’whora holds the door of her room open for Tayce and her heart sinks in embarrassment when she realises she forgot to make her bed this morning.

“Sorry about the mess,” she apologies, to which Tayce gives a cry of a laugh in response.

“A’whora, have you seen my room? You’re fine, kid, don’t worry.”

A’whora thinks that’s true- Tayce’s room is a state, but somehow it seems to suit her. Tayce’s room with the crowded bulletin board, desk covered in sweet wrappers and sketches, floor carpeted with clothes that need washed and outfits that didn’t make the cut. The cracked picture frame on her window-sill of the first selfie the six of them all got together on the first night of freshers and the huge cheese plant that sits next to her bedside table, Tayce’s pride and joy. They’re all little intricate shards that join up to form a perfect picture of her personality, and A’whora thinks it’s sort of perfect.

She looks out the bodysuit from its neatly Marie Kondo-d place in her wardrobe and hands it gently to Tayce. “Try it and see. It’s a small 10 anyway so it’ll probably be fine for you.”

Tayce accepts it gratefully and hooks a finger around both of the straps, letting the rest of the material fall out of its perfectly folded little parcel. She gives a little gasp of appreciation as she looks at it. “Oh yes, baby. I think this’ll do just fine.”

A’whora feels good- proud that she’s managed to find the perfect piece for Tayce’s outfit, to help her look as inevitably gorgeous as she knows she will. The smile on her face falters, though, when Tayce shoots her a wink and leans against the wall with her shoulder. “This is gonna get me someone I can pop off my acrylics for, I can tell. You’ve got the best taste, girl.”

“Are you actually going to try and get with someone tonight?” A’whora injects a laugh into her question that she’s banking on sounding genuine, otherwise it comes across as accusatory and that’s not what she means it to be. Or is it? She doesn’t know. “You know how messy nights at The Avenue always get. Last time we were there Lawrence got so drunk she told us she couldn’t see, remember?”

Tayce laughs her off with a shrug. “Well then I’ll just have to be careful with my drinks, won’t I?”

A’whora gives a false laugh, tries so hard to get it to meet her eyes. Why is she so pressed about this? She gets with girls on nights out too, she’s brought the occasional one night stand to the flat. Tayce is allowed to do the same.

So why does she feel ever so slightly gutted?

If her smile looks fake (which it is) then Tayce doesn’t notice, and she only shoots her a smile as she opens the bedroom door. “You’re an angel. I’ll pop this on then be back in five.”

A’whora takes the opportunity of Tayce having left to make her bed, and as she does so she feels lots of little thoughts dart around her mind like minnows, none of them staying in the same place for long enough to be able to be deciphered. She manages to catch a few before they flee away and she clings to them, turning them over in her head: why does she feel so bothered about the prospect of Tayce finding a girl at the party, talking to her and making a connection and laughing at her jokes? Why had it felt like a punch to the gut when Tayce was joking about doing so? Why does she have this part of her that feels like an idiot for setting Tayce up to look her best and knowing that it’s for the benefit of somebody else, somebody that doesn’t know her like she does?

And then her bedroom door opens and A’whora turns around and lays eyes on her best friend. Tayce in her high heels and bare legs and the skirt with the zip. Tayce with her baby blue fake fur coat and her straight, dark hair tumbling over its shoulders. Tayce in the bodysuit- A’whora’s bodysuit- with the lace and the mesh that clings to her chest like it was designed just for her. There’s something about the fact that she’s wearing something that belongs to A’whora that makes something inside her chest tingle, the fact it’s a little piece of her in Tayce’s jigsaw puzzle that seems to fit regardless of the difference.

“What d’you think?” Tayce smiles, all too aware of how drop-dead stunning she looks.

And then the realisation hits A’whora like a train.

Oh.

Fuck.

She’s screwed.

[objection-argumentative]

Soulmates part 1

Masterlist!

Kelsey woke up to her phone ringing on her bedside table, she looked at the caller id, and she internally groaned. Her mother was calling the young detective trying to convince her to go back to her hometown Newcastle in England, just like she had been trying to do for the past four years.

Kelsey's mother wanted her daughter to return to the city and to marry her dad's associate Andrew Farrington a man that was more than double her age. There were only two reasons that her family wanted to kelsey accept Andrew's hand in marriage; Money and Power. kelsey was from a very high-class wealthy family, and marriage was more of a business deal than a commitment. When Kelsey was 10, she overheard a conversation between her parents and grandparents that made her sick to her stomach. They had her whole life planned out for her; married at 18 to Andrew, they were to have children straight away, and Kelsey would become a housewife for the rest of her life. From that moment on, she buried herself into her studies at school, got terrific grades, and she applied to every college in America as it was just about as far as she could get from her planned life-4,318 miles to be exact.

Kelsey's first acceptance letter was for Columbia University to study criminal justice. She packed her life up quietly, left her family a letter to explain, and headed for New York City. In the past four years, she completed her degree with master's, interned at Queens Special Victims Unit in the last year of her degree, and she found her calling. She loved helping the victims of the heinous crimes see justice and nail the perps to the wall.

On Kelsey's graduation day, her captain Declan Murphy came to the ceremony to show his support for the young woman and tell kelsey his good news. After the ceremony and the photos, Declan and kelsey headed to a pub across the street. They headed straight to the bar, the barmaid asked for their orders. He purchased a bottle of wine, grabbed the two wine glasses, and guided her to a table booth nearby. He told the graduate he was proud of her and had accomplished so much in a short space of time. Declan knew about her family and what is expected back home of her. He knew she had what it takes to overcome those prejudicial expectations and smash anything she wanted to do with her life. " I spoke to the captain at Manhattan SVU; his name is Cragen. He needs a new detective as one of his has just left to go to a different unit; the Spot is yours if you want it" Kelsey's bright, piercing blue eyes that captured everyone's attention welled up she didn't trust her voice, so she nodded her head and let out a whispered, "thank you."

The next afternoon Kelsey headed to the 16th precinct with Delan Murphy to complete her paperwork, badge, gun, and desk. She chatted to her new captain; he went through some house rules with her as she is now a junior detective. As Kelsey was about to leave her new captain's office, an older blonde woman knocked on the door and asked if it was a good time to speak to him.  The older blonde had a southern accent. She was just that little bit taller than Kelsey, Cragen invited her into his office, and he introduced the woman as Amanda Rollins, and he introduced Kelsey as Kelsey Hardy, her new partner. Amanda smiled at Kelsey, shook her hand and exchanged pleasantries with her, and excused herself. She was expected in the squad room on Monday at 9 am sharp, ready to start her career.

On Monday morning, her alarm woke her up at 6 am sharp. She groaned, got up, and headed to her bathroom. She looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her long blonde hair came down to her chest; her skin was as pale as snow; she had clear skin, a cute button nose, and a killer smile. She was smaller than the average woman her age of 22. She was 5ft 2 inches, but she was only 66kg. She had size DD boobs that she hated as they gave her backache from time to time, and they got in the way. She had a peachy bum that she was proud of as Kelsey was always made fun of in the girls changing rooms at school as her butt was non-existent plus, her boobs were far too big for her body. Kelsey knew deep down that jealousy from the other girls caused them to bully her, but she always hated how she looked. Kelsey would always shy away from people. When Kelsey finished in the mirror, she jumped into the shower, washed and brushed her teeth; she then went back to her bedroom, got dry, and got herself ready for the day; she did natural makeup and put her long blonde hair in a ponytail. Kelsey grabbed her black suit, a white blouse, and black flats, opting for comfort over style. She headed out of her tiny apartment that she shared with her friend Joanne and started her 10-minute walk to her precinct.

Right next to the precinct building, she sees a small but cute coffee shop; she decides as she is 20 minutes early, the young woman will get herself a vanilla latte and a peace offering. As kelsey walks out of the lift, Kelsey gets butterflies in the pit of her stomach. It ruled as first-day nerves; she walked towards her desk with a smile on her face, a coffee in one hand, and a box of doughnuts in the other as a peace offering to your new squad members.

Kelsey met the entire team of detectives Benson, Stabler, Munch, Finn, Amaro, and Sonny. Kelsey smiled at everyone, shook all of their hands, and told them it was nice to meet them. Just as she stepped back, the lift dinged, signaling someone was about to step out.

Kelsey turned to see if it was her new partner, but to her surprise, it was a very handsome man, she could see he was older than her by a few years he had brown hair, green eyes that you could get lost in and he dressed in a designer suit that showed off the outline of his muscles. He was drop-dead gorgeous. He smirked "you know if you took a picture, it would last longer" kelsey blushed and rubbed her neck as she looked at the floor "sorry," he chuckled at her. The handsome, mysterious man stuck out his hand. He introduced himself as Rafael Barba, "Kelsey Hardy," as she shakes his hand. All she remembers was feeling electricity inside of her body before she blacked out.