In the kids cartoon Arthur, Arthur’s father David Read had Arthur at around 19 years old.
How do I know this? In the episode “DW aims high”, David tells his kids that he was Arthur’s age when Neil Armstrong landed on the moon. Armstrong landed on the moon in July of 1969 and Arthur is pretty consistently depicted as being eight years old, so David must’ve been born sometime around 1960 or 1961. Arthur premiered in September 1996 and since Arthur was around eight years old then, David was around 27, having been born around 1960. This also means that at the time of Arthur’s birth eight years prior, David was 19.
Zachary Levi, James Van Der Beek, Paul Rudd, Kevin Rahm and Josh Hopkins offer some unique assistance prior to David Cook’s performance during the Big Slick KC 2017 Celebrity Weekend. The full video of David’s performance can be found here.
At the core of all this strangeness is a drama centering on a brewing battle between the gods of ancient myth and upstart objects of worship. Caught in the middle is Shadow Moon (The 100’s Ricky Whittle), an ex-con who gains early release from prison under tragic circumstances. He soon finds himself in the employ of one Mr. Wednesday (Deadwood star Ian McShane), an enigmatic magic man who has a vested interest in the outcome of the conflict. The show’s all-star ensemble also features Orlando Jones as the trickster god Mr. Nancy, Crispin Glover as a powerful goon named Mr. World, Orange Is the New Black’s Pablo Schreiber as whiskey-swilling, fightin’ Irish leprechaun Mad Sweeney and a chameleonic Gillian Anderson as the seductive cathode-ray deity known as “Media.”
Arriving on the heels of FX’s Legion and just a few weeks prior to David Lynch’s Twin Peaks relaunch for Showtime, American Gods is the perfect bridge between what’s sure to be the twin poles of this year’s hallucinogenic-TV high points. It begins its essential-viewing eight-episode run on April 30th; here’s everything you need to know before tuning in.
Gwenvid. Around 3k-these keep getting longer I am sorry. No general warnings, just sad.
A interaction with Amber and a moment alone with David.
Also a major thank you to @forestwater87 who has been ever so kind to beta my work from now on-because I will need her to breathe. As well as being a very honest reader and encouraging friend. This chapter would not have been possible without her excellent additions-which I am very grateful for.
Chapters 1 and 2: under the makeuminegwenvid tag
Within seconds she was yanking her hand away from the coffee mug as if her fingers were skimming an open flame.
The pain was immediate, irreversible, and easy to tuck away by shoving her pulsing hand under the bathroom sink. Gwen let out hissing puffs as the cold water seared her already red fingertips. She deflated, bending over the sink and pressing her cheek flush against the cold marble of the countertop.
As the water ran over her fingers she watched them through hungover eyes and her mind raced, begging for the pills or sleep. Her head thrummed with fuzzy images of David’s smile and Tom’s throat from the night prior, a wavelength of self-hatred intertwining itself in between each color slide of memory. Human behavior was complicated. She continued to leave her fingers underneath the running faucet even though her fingers were numb.
So I don’t really know where this came from but it was bouncing around in my head and I had to write it.
Rated T to M-ish but it’s just a funny little ficlet. No actual sexy times. IDK. See for yourselves. I can’t lie, I had a good chuckle writing this, I hope you have as much fun reading it!
Emma Swan was not very good at remembering dates. Anniversaries, birthdays, dentist appointments. Her mother would casually remind her of the date a few days prior to David, Killian and Henry’s birthdays every year, and for that she was eternally grateful.
It wasn’t that she didn’t try to remember, but she’d spent 28 years of her life training herself to forget dates, to let them pass her by without any acknowledgment. None of them were anniversaries of positive experiences, so why bother remembering them?
But a life-long habit wasn’t easy to break, and now that she wanted to remember things like birthdays, her parents’ wedding anniversary and her own anniversary with Killian…she was finding it a challenge.
Their first Christmas together, Killian had included a calendar with her gifts and it had most certainly come in useful, pinned to the wall beside their refrigerator where it would consistently catch her eye.
It didn’t help, however, that Killian would find absolutely any reason to celebrate an ‘anniversary’. They’d been together properly for a little under a year, and he’d already found twelve reasons to celebrate so-called anniversaries.
“Happy 6 month anniversary of the first time we watched the Netfix together, Swan!”
(She’d long since given up correcting his way of saying Netflix.)
“Happy 3 month anniversary of the first time I cooked you pancakes, darling!”
(Of course he’d always insist they celebrate that particular one with pancakes and she could never find it in her to argue.)
“Happy 1 year anniversary of the first time you held a knife to my throat, love!”
(She’d pointed out that it was the only time she’d held a knife to his throat but he’d brushed it off and cut her a slice of cake.)
So, when she got home from the station one unassuming Wednesday evening, greeted by balloons stuck to the front door and decidedly sensual music playing in the living room, the only light coming from candles scattered around the place, she was understandably intrigued and somewhat baffled.
She just really wished she’d returned home alone though, and didn’t have her equally confused father on her heels, eyeing the decoration warily.
But before he had time to suggest his own retreat, Killian called out to her from upstairs. She was about to warn him that she wasn’t alone, but he appeared at the top of the stairs then, still unable to see David from his position.
“Happy 1 year anniversary of the first time I saw you naked, love. Which is also the 1 year anniversary of the first orgasm I ever gave you.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she stared at him in horror. He was stood at the top of the stairs, butt naked, a box of strategically held cupcakes the only thing standing between them and a full frontal show. She could feel her cheeks burning as she flushed from head to toe, and she heard her father almost choke on his own tongue.
David cleared his throat then, and Emma almost lost it as she saw the smile immediately disappear from Killian’s face, horror to match her own initial response replacing it. He scrambled backwards, disappearing from their view with a string of curses, and Emma couldn’t hold back the laughter bubbling from her.
She turned to find her father red-faced and at a loss for words. He awkwardly gestured behind him and backed away.
“Gonna-…home…your mother-…dinner….uh yeah…bye.”
With that, David turned and practically sprinted toward his truck, and he was roaring off down the street without looking back before Emma even had a chance to wave.
“Nice to know I can still give them a few traumatic parental experiences this late in the game.”
She chuckled to herself, before closing the door and heading straight up the stairs to find her pirate. She definitely didn’t plan to let those cupcakes go to waste.