apachefirecat (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
apachefirecat) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly2022-02-05 02:14 pm
apachefirecat) wrote in fandomweekly2022-02-05 02:14 pm
Entry tags:
[#124] When Heartache Leads To Cheesecake (Golden Girls)
Theme Prompt: Best Friends
Title: When Heartache Leads To Cheesecake
Fandom: Golden Girls
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/T
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Dorothy knows Blanche is just going to get herself hurt again.
There's just something about the belle when she first walks into a room. If there are any men present, they always stop and stare. it doesn't matter if Blanche is dressed to the nines or, as she rarely is, dressed semi-conservatively. The woman could wear a nun's frock and still have a whole parade of men following after her and hanging on her every word. Dorothy has heard about men who have animal magnetism, and she's met a few in her time for whom that could have been true, but Blanche definitely has something... something unique.
She asked her once, when she'd had a little too much to drink, how she does what she does, how she summons the full command of an entire plethora of men every time no matter where she goes without even so much as a single word, and Blanche had just smiled and softly spoken some nonsense in French. Dorothy knew it was nonsense, although, of course, she couldn't prove it. There was much about Blanche she couldn't prove, much that both annoyed her and amazed her, much that she had tried to question the Southern belle about previously in their relationship but had long ago given up. If Blanche did lie when she told her tall tales of the sordid South, she would never admit it, just as, Dorothy knew, she would never admit how many or how few men she actually did have.
Oh, there were dozens, possibly hundreds, possibly even thousands of men who dated Blanche, but Dorothy happened to know that, despite the illustrious tales the other woman wove, the belle did not bed every one of them. Oh, she had no trouble bedding a man, but he did have to be something special, have something, possess something special to be able to lay astride Blanche Deveraux's bed, let alone her gorgeous body. And Dorothy quite frequently tired of all the men Blanche paraded in and out of their home, in no small part because of how she reigned those numbers over both her roommate's heads and how Dorothy knew she was talked about behind her back. It did no good to take up for the woman when she was insistent on bringing every pretty John Doe she found through their lives, even if it was just for an evening that was unsatisfactory to Blanche but whose dissatisfaction she would never allow to be known.
No, every man was a winner according to Blanche Deveraux. Every man she allowed to court her was a strong, confident, sweet-talking charmer. Too many of them were just that: charmers, charmers full of lies and wanting only one thing from the most beautiful woman Dorothy had ever known and one of the best friends she had ever had. Not very many people could dare to confuse Blanche with being kind, but the belle did have her moments. She'd opened her home, her heart, and her arms to Dorothy, her elderly mother for whom very few other people actually had any patience, and an equally belligerent Scandinavian girl who talked to trees and every animal she came across even in public. Blanche actually had far more respect and patience for both than Dorothy ever had or would.
Blanche did have a kind heart, a sometimes gentle way about her, and although she was proud, she did have a good many reasons for that pride. She was truly the most beautiful woman in any room. As much as it annoyed Dorothy, she did fully deserve the praise she got from her male admirers, but she also deserved far, far more than they would ever give her. With her husband, Blanche was constantly looking for someone to replace the hole in her heart George had left behind. She wasn't the first woman Dorothy had witnessed chasing after the dreams, heart, and bed left emptied by the life mate who had already gone home. She had seen the behavior in both men and women, in her own mother, and in her own heart, and her husband wasn't even dead yet. He had just been a jackass who had left her wanting in so very many ways.
But Blanche didn't seem to recognize this behavior in herself. She kept opening herself up. She had gotten sick more than once, and she was hurt so very often that Dorothy wanted, at times, to take the place of her proud papa and barricade potential suitors from her door with a shotgun and a whole list of things they had to do, be, or say to become worthy of dating her best pal. But she wouldn't. She'd tried a few times to convince Blanche that certain guys weren't worth chasing, but she'd also learned early on in their friendship that she would never listen to her. She craved being loved in the way that only a man could love her far too much to listen to good, common sense.
So it was that when Blanche entered the room late Sunday afternoon, leaned against its wooden frame, and breathed, with her eyes glassy and a jubilant smile across her painted lips, that Dorothy barely looked up. "You're nevah gonna guess what happened today!"
Dorothy arched a gray eyebrow, licked her finger, and turned the page of her magazine. "There's cheesecake in the fridge."
Blanche pouted. "You're not goin' to wager a guess?"
"You said I wouldn't."
"No, Ah said you wouldn't guess right!"
"No," she turned another page, "you said I wouldn't guess right."
"What happened, Blanche?" Rose asked, cheery as ever.
"She met a man," Dorothy snapped even as Blanche crooned, "Ah met the most romantic, gorgeous man this side of Mistah James Dean!"
"Of course you did." Dorothy flipped another page. "Cheesecake's in the fridge."
"Are you kiddin'?! Ah'm about to go hit th' gym! Who wants to come?"
"Me!"
Dorothy just shook her head as her two longest-standing friends rushed out the door to what she knew would bring more heartache.
The End
Title: When Heartache Leads To Cheesecake
Fandom: Golden Girls
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/T
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Dorothy knows Blanche is just going to get herself hurt again.
There's just something about the belle when she first walks into a room. If there are any men present, they always stop and stare. it doesn't matter if Blanche is dressed to the nines or, as she rarely is, dressed semi-conservatively. The woman could wear a nun's frock and still have a whole parade of men following after her and hanging on her every word. Dorothy has heard about men who have animal magnetism, and she's met a few in her time for whom that could have been true, but Blanche definitely has something... something unique.
She asked her once, when she'd had a little too much to drink, how she does what she does, how she summons the full command of an entire plethora of men every time no matter where she goes without even so much as a single word, and Blanche had just smiled and softly spoken some nonsense in French. Dorothy knew it was nonsense, although, of course, she couldn't prove it. There was much about Blanche she couldn't prove, much that both annoyed her and amazed her, much that she had tried to question the Southern belle about previously in their relationship but had long ago given up. If Blanche did lie when she told her tall tales of the sordid South, she would never admit it, just as, Dorothy knew, she would never admit how many or how few men she actually did have.
Oh, there were dozens, possibly hundreds, possibly even thousands of men who dated Blanche, but Dorothy happened to know that, despite the illustrious tales the other woman wove, the belle did not bed every one of them. Oh, she had no trouble bedding a man, but he did have to be something special, have something, possess something special to be able to lay astride Blanche Deveraux's bed, let alone her gorgeous body. And Dorothy quite frequently tired of all the men Blanche paraded in and out of their home, in no small part because of how she reigned those numbers over both her roommate's heads and how Dorothy knew she was talked about behind her back. It did no good to take up for the woman when she was insistent on bringing every pretty John Doe she found through their lives, even if it was just for an evening that was unsatisfactory to Blanche but whose dissatisfaction she would never allow to be known.
No, every man was a winner according to Blanche Deveraux. Every man she allowed to court her was a strong, confident, sweet-talking charmer. Too many of them were just that: charmers, charmers full of lies and wanting only one thing from the most beautiful woman Dorothy had ever known and one of the best friends she had ever had. Not very many people could dare to confuse Blanche with being kind, but the belle did have her moments. She'd opened her home, her heart, and her arms to Dorothy, her elderly mother for whom very few other people actually had any patience, and an equally belligerent Scandinavian girl who talked to trees and every animal she came across even in public. Blanche actually had far more respect and patience for both than Dorothy ever had or would.
Blanche did have a kind heart, a sometimes gentle way about her, and although she was proud, she did have a good many reasons for that pride. She was truly the most beautiful woman in any room. As much as it annoyed Dorothy, she did fully deserve the praise she got from her male admirers, but she also deserved far, far more than they would ever give her. With her husband, Blanche was constantly looking for someone to replace the hole in her heart George had left behind. She wasn't the first woman Dorothy had witnessed chasing after the dreams, heart, and bed left emptied by the life mate who had already gone home. She had seen the behavior in both men and women, in her own mother, and in her own heart, and her husband wasn't even dead yet. He had just been a jackass who had left her wanting in so very many ways.
But Blanche didn't seem to recognize this behavior in herself. She kept opening herself up. She had gotten sick more than once, and she was hurt so very often that Dorothy wanted, at times, to take the place of her proud papa and barricade potential suitors from her door with a shotgun and a whole list of things they had to do, be, or say to become worthy of dating her best pal. But she wouldn't. She'd tried a few times to convince Blanche that certain guys weren't worth chasing, but she'd also learned early on in their friendship that she would never listen to her. She craved being loved in the way that only a man could love her far too much to listen to good, common sense.
So it was that when Blanche entered the room late Sunday afternoon, leaned against its wooden frame, and breathed, with her eyes glassy and a jubilant smile across her painted lips, that Dorothy barely looked up. "You're nevah gonna guess what happened today!"
Dorothy arched a gray eyebrow, licked her finger, and turned the page of her magazine. "There's cheesecake in the fridge."
Blanche pouted. "You're not goin' to wager a guess?"
"You said I wouldn't."
"No, Ah said you wouldn't guess right!"
"No," she turned another page, "you said I wouldn't guess right."
"What happened, Blanche?" Rose asked, cheery as ever.
"She met a man," Dorothy snapped even as Blanche crooned, "Ah met the most romantic, gorgeous man this side of Mistah James Dean!"
"Of course you did." Dorothy flipped another page. "Cheesecake's in the fridge."
"Are you kiddin'?! Ah'm about to go hit th' gym! Who wants to come?"
"Me!"
Dorothy just shook her head as her two longest-standing friends rushed out the door to what she knew would bring more heartache.
The End
no subject
no subject
This was lovely. It's not often you get to enjoy female relationships without the stereotypical mess of rivalries and love triangles. I enjoyed the second half. Loved loved loved your cheesecake delivery! Especially when Dorothy kept insisting on reminding her.
And she must eat cheesecake a lot on the path of neverending heartbreak. Blanche gotta start working off her egotism. XD
That entire bit, my favorite part. <3
no subject
no subject