#Sweets for Wedding in Ireland

[maraczeks]

+

[samwisethewitch]

Pagan Wedding Flowers (and other plants) Cheat Sheet

Flowers have been associated with weddings for almost as long as humans have been getting married. In fact, the use of flowers in ritual may actually be older than humans! Neanderthal graves in Iraq suggest that Neanderthals buried their dead with flowers. There are mentions of flowers in our earliest recorded accounts of weddings, such as in Egypt, Greece, and Rome.

Historically, couples would have used whatever flowers were available to them. While some cultures had flowers they preferred for weddings because of their symbolism, couples would have been limited by what grew in their area and by what was in bloom at the time of their ceremony. To be truly as historically accurate as possible, consider using flowers you grew or foraged yourself. Bonus points for native blooms!

For those who aren't into growing or gathering your own wedding flowers, modern florists and greenhouses allow us to choose from a wide range of flowers, many of which aren't native to our homes. This makes it much easier to choose flowers based on their symbolism, history, or cultural meaning.

Historic Wedding Flowers + Plants

Roses have been the flower of choice for Western weddings pretty much forever, and with good reason. The rose is associated with several ancient goddesses of sex, fertility, and/or romance, such as Inanna, Ishtar, Aphrodite, and Venus. (Later, medieval Christians would also associate this flower with the Virgin Mary.) Including the goddess's flowers in a wedding may have been a way of invoking her blessing on the union. Sappho called rose "Queen of the Flowers."

Roses are held in a high regard in pretty much every culture with access to them. They're strongly associated not only with love, but also with beauty, wholeness, blessings, and even spirituality.

Rose was included in wedding celebrations in Ancient Hellos (Greece) and Rome. It is associated with the planet Venus and the water element.

Wheat was also a popular inclusion in weddings in ancient Greece and Rome. Hellenic brides would carry sheaths of wheat or another grain to invoke fertility and good fortune. Wheat was strongly associated with agrarian goddesses like Demeter, Persephone, Ceres, and Proserpina. Carrying wheat may also have been a way of expressing a wish for the marriage to produce many children. Pliny the Elder explicitly says in his Natural History that wheat was included in weddings to honor Ceres.

In modern occult systems, wheat is associated with fertility, the conception of children, and wealth. It is associated with the planet Venus and the element of earth.

Olive branches also featured in Hellenic weddings. Olive was an important crop in the ancient Mediterranean, and olive branches were a symbol of peace and friendship. Olive was also used in the victors' crowns in the Olympic Games. In Athens, the olive tree was a symbol of Athena. It was also carried by worshipers of Apollo when they visited the Oracle at Delphi. Olive was also important to the Romans, who associated it with Mars in his aspect as a protector of peace.

In modern magic traditions, olive is associated with beauty, healing, stamina, wealth, fertility, protection and of course, peace. It is associated with the sun and the fire element.

Orange blossoms were included in Hellenic weddings as a sign of happiness. These strongly scented white flowers also sometimes appeared in Roman weddings. Thousands of years later, Queen Victoria wore a crown of orange blossoms at her wedding, but for her they were a symbol of chastity.

In modern systems, orange is associated with joy, partnership, sweetness, and good luck. It is associated with the sun and the fire element.

Hawthorn appeared in weddings in ancient Rome. Pliny the Elder said that Roman bridal processions included a hawthorn torch dedicated to the goddess Ceres. In Rome, hawthorn was more generally associated with love and good luck.

In Celtic cultures, especially Ireland, hawthorn was believed to be a fairy tree. For this reason, cutting a hawthorn tree or bringing hawthorn branches inside was considered bad luck.

The blooming of hawthorn trees was used to determine the date of Bealtaine, and hawthorn boughs were often decorated with flowers, ribbons, and egg shells to make a May bush, which was placed by the front door for good luck. In Britain, hawthorn wood was used to carve maypoles. Hawthorn flowers may be especially appropriate for a May wedding or handfasting.

In modern occultism, hawthorn is associated with protection, healing (especially healing the heart), romantic love, fertility, granting wishes, and happiness. It is still strongly associated with weddings and marriage. It is associated with the planet Mars and the fire element.

Lotus may have featured in ancient Kemetic (Egyptian) weddings. The lotus was an important symbol in Kemetic religion, and was associated with the sun, rebirth, and the creation of the world. Lotus flowers featured in festivals to honor Hapi, the androgynous god of the Nile. The lotus is used in art to represent Upper Egypt. An Egyptian poem from 1100 BCE connects the lotus to marriage.

Lotus flowers were also popular in ancient Chinese weddings, and they're still used by some Chinese couples today. In Chinese culture, lotus represents purity, honor, and long life.

In modern traditions, lotus is associated with protection, spirituality, and blessings. It is associated with the moon and the water element.

Yellow flowers were used in pre-Christian Ireland for blessings and protection. The exact flower used for these rituals is not specified, so it seems like the color was what mattered. Modern pagans looking to carry on this tradition have lots of yellow flowers to choose from. Some popular choices include yellow roses (see above), yellow amaryllis (associated with creativity, playfulness, and joy), chrysanthemum (associated with long life, optimism, and protection), marigold (associated with happiness, rebirth, and vitality), and/or daffodils (associated with love, fertility, and luck).

Modern Wedding Flowers

We've gone over some of the flowers that were popular in historic pagan weddings, but it's also easy to pagan-ify the flowers that are most popular in modern weddings. Here's a quick rundown of some popular wedding blooms and their neopagan and occult symbolism:

Peony is associated with purification, healing, prosperity, and success. In ancient Rome, peony was believed to be sacred to Mars. It is associated with the sun and the fire element.

Dahlia is associated with mystery, occult wisdom, and transformation. It is associated with the moon and the water element.

Lilac is associated with balance, peace, romance, protection from evil, and attracting friendly spirits. It is associated with Venus and the water element.

Sweet Pea is associated with comfort, charm, and sweetness. It is associated with Venus and the water element.

Hydrangea is associated with healthy boundaries, breaking negative patterns, hex breaking, and protection. It is associated with water and with both the moon and Neptune.

Tulip is associated with beauty, desire, gratitude, love, prosperity, and simplicity. It is associated with Venus and the earth element.

Orchid is associated with beauty, elegance, sexuality, fertility, and romance. It is associated with Venus and the water element.

Lily is associated with spirituality, beauty, harmony, and protection from the evil eye. It is associated with Venus and the water element.

Carnation is associated with beauty, love, rebirth, strength, and healing. Carnations are associated with same-gender love and especially love between men because of Oscar Wilde's fondness for them. They are associated with the sun and the fire element.

Gardenia is associated with love, peace, healing, and spirituality. It is associated with the moon and the water element.

Resources:

"New Neanderthal remains associated with the ‘flower burial’ at Shanidar Cave," Cambridge University Press

"History of Wedding Flowers" by Benna Crawford

The Roman Wedding by Karen K. Hersch

"The Olive in the Ancient Mediterranean" by Mark Cartwright

"The History, Mythology, and Offerings of Hawthorn" by Meghan Pivarnik

Where the Hawthorn Grows by Morgan Daimler

Temple of the Cosmos by Jeremy Naydler

The Magic of Flowers by Tess Whitehurst

The Magic of Trees by Tess Whitehurst (see my disclaimer about Whitehurst's books, but these are some of her better ones)

Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs by Scott Cunningham

[kindestofkings]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

ryan mcmahon x reader

authors note: this is so sweet and fluffy you'll probs need to visit the dentist, but its for all you ryan girlies out there xx

yourusername

location: italy!

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yourusername italy you have our hearts, lush few days away before pretty boy goes back on tour <33

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ryanmcmahon_15 you could come with me...

yourusername loveee I've got school :(

yourmum photos look fab darlings!

yourusername thanks mam💗💗

elijahhewson about time you give that handsome fella back to me !

yourusername posted on their story:

-yourusername harrys house ready!!!

ryanmcmahon_15

location: harry's house

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

view all 200 comments

yourusername I adore you almost as much as I adore Harry Styles.

bobbyskeetz wow mate thats saying something

yourusername SO proud of you boys!! have come along way since workmans x

(liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_)

ryanmcmahon_15 my number one supporter the whole time inhalerfan1 who is this girl? inhalerfan2 shes ryans girlfriend! pretty sure they've been dating since they were like 17ish

inhalerfan2 incredible 🔥🔥🔥

inhalerfan3 you made harry’s house a harry home

yourusername

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yourusername corporate needs you to find the differences between this picture and this picture...

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joshjenkinson_ THEY'RE THE SAME PICTURE

bobbyskeetz how hard is it being a sidepiece even tho you've been been dating ryan for 8 years?

yourusername i've become desensitised at this point elijahhewson better to be a side piece over a no piece xx joshjenkinson_ no piece hahah yourusername how are you the same man that wrote if you're gonna break my heart??

inhalerfan1 you get it

ryanmcmahon_15 its not what it looks like....

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername FACT Ireland is beautiful this time of year. FACT my boyfriend is the cutest and I miss him terribly. FACT my brain hurts from school.

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ryanmcmahon_15 all the hard work is gonna pay off !!

(liked my yourusername)

yourmam forget about that tour business, shes miserable here! ryanmcmahon_15

yourusername mammmmm making me look uncoolllll ryanmcmahon_15 😂😂

inhalerfan1 I just found out about her a week ago but these two are my parents

inhalerfan2 do you mind me asking what are you studying?

yourusername no of course not! i'm doing a phd at the moment in human rights law, in dublin <3 inhalerfan2 no way thats so cool! bobbyskeetz our brainbox !

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location: holibobs!

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yourusername love a travel moment we do x

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ryanmcmahon_15 you feelin moody with your b&w theme?

yourusername trying to channel my inner lewevans ! hows it working ? lewevans a little too good, please dont put me out of a job !!

elijahhewson hes travelled to more places with me, just saying :))

yourusername yeah but does he kiss you in a photobooth? yourusername ACTUALLY DONT ANSWER THAT I DONT WANT TO KNOW GUGGI joshjenkinson_ you defo dont want to know.. yourusername ahhhhh JOSH

yourusername posted on their story:

yourusername my favourite person dressed up as my favourite singer and I have to watch it through blurry insta lives 😭😭

replies

ryanmcmahon_15 lovieee thought you'd enjoy it, now i feel cruel yourusername dont its literally the best thing you've ever done, never looked hotter!

bobbyskeetz

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bobbyskeetz the ryan fella is a scrubbed up even though tour is over? confusion

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joshjenkinson_ looking good for the big day 🔥

inhalerfan2 explain yourselves please!!!!

elijahhewson officaily lost him 💔

inhalerfan1 oh my god what is happening!!!!

inhalerdublin

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inhalerdublin it may not be music related news but we have a NEWLY WED in the band, our lovely drummer finally tied the knot with an even lovelier cailín <33

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joshjenkinson_ crackin day!

elijahhewson still emotional, OUR PARENTS

 bobbyskeetz hangover of hell today but it was worth it 🤘🏼🤘🏼

evehewson what a stunning bride, congrats !!

lewevans the best just got better! thanks for including me in the big day

yourusername are you kidding me? THANK YOU for your amazing photos! (liked by ryanmcmahon_15)

inhalerfan1 you are joking me this is so beautiful

inhalerfan2 why am I crying over two strangers getting married?!?!

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername just had a dream weekend and married my bestfriend.

never imagined getting married so young but when you know you know, and you certainly do not let a man like ryan pass you by.

my husband <3

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ryanmcmahon_15 the love of my life, my wife <3

inhalerfan1 literally the most beautiful wedding ever!

inhalerfan2 awhhhh congrats!

yourmam such a beautiful day celebrating you two!! my favourites xx

inhalerdublin our parents 💗💗💗

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--finito--

lol dont even know where that marriage came from Im still undecided if i believe in the concept, but its cute lol!

hope you enjoyed <3

[look-at-the-soul]

Vows Renewal

Cillian Murphy x Mexican reader (blurb)

Request by anon; thank you for sending in this lovely idea! I already had a similar idea with a reader from Brazil so I wanted to make this completely different 🤭 Que lo disfrutes! Enjoy

Translation in English will be in italics 😉

Cillian felt like his face had been hurting from smiling so much.

It was a beautiful evening by the beach with his wife by his side and their loved ones.

Skin sun kissed, the smell of the sea, the crash of the waves softly as if it was the music background, happiness to the max. What could he possibly ask for? If he already had it all…

His closest family members and friends traveled all the way from Ireland to one of the most beautiful places in the world, there was no other place with a sight like this Mexican beach. They chose that place to celebrate their vows renewal because it had a special spot in their hearts as it was the very same place where they celebrated a second wedding -to give the family the chance, they made two small weddings back then both in Ireland and Mexico over ten years ago- and now they just needed another excuse to go back.

It had been an incredible ceremony, they exchanged their rings and vows both in English and Spanish in a private resort, after posing for photos and taking a moment to welcome everyone they had the most delicious dinner and dessert. His kids sitting at each side of them at the table, everyone thought having a Mexican buffet was the greatest idea ever, as they requested all kinds of traditional dishes to be served as well as another table for sweets and spicy desserts that included from glazed churros to grilled corn with different toppings. Drinks flowing in every direction, everyone wearing a contagious smile.

He decided to take it slow with the tequila that night, there would be plenty opportunities to get drunk but he got to celebrate ten years of marriage once.

Spotting the beautiful bride among the people around her, he smiled pleased. Her dress had loads of embroidered flowers made by Mexican artisans.

“Señora [Mrs.] Murphy?” He chuckled at her surprise. “May I have a word with the bride?”

“Mum! Can I’ve some cake?” Azul their daughter asked, interrupting the two of them.

Y/N raised an eyebrow towards the girl. She knew her father would say yes, her eyes sparkled and lighted even more the blue/green tones in her eyes.

“Puedo comer otra rebanada de pastel?” She asked in Spanish this time around.

“Una pequeña, corazón.” [A small piece, sweetheart.] Y/N replied.

“Yo también quiero!” [I want some too] Whined Oisin.

“Está bien.” [Alright] She agreed feeling a pair of arms wrapping around her waist from behind.

“Quiero postre también.” [I want dessert too.] Cillian whispered against her ear, giving her goosebumps all over her skin.

“Esta noche.” [Tonight] She promised turning around in his arms, she wouldn’t mind getting lost in his eyes.

Leaning down for a short kiss, he could feel himself getting lost in that smile that made him go back in time to the first moment he saw her.

“What?”

Cillian shook his head. “Visiting some memories.”

“Oh… may I know about what?”

“From the day we met,” her eyes danced towards his lips, and up again taking in the way the sunset reflected beautifully in his eyes.

Planting both hands on his shoulders, she rose to her tiptoes to find his lips, as her heart swelled with love and pride to remember also, of that day they met in that film festival in France. She had been chatting to a director and he suddenly bumped into her back distracted, after an apology and making sure she was alright, he smiled, after that moment, they spent the rest of the night together and from then on they never spent another night apart.

Well, except when he was filming.

“You want to know a secret?” His arm sneaked around her backless dress. “Señora Murphy.” [Mrs. Murphy.]

“Of course.” She beamed, brushing away the fringe from his forehead.

“I didn’t bump into you accidentally… I wanted to, no, I needed to meet you.”

Just as Y/N was about to reply something when suddenly the mariachi interrupted the party and started signing, the group received them with a chorus of chants and clapping. Bringing more happiness than they already felt.

***

Master list

Blurbs

A/N: I hope you like this! The girl’s name Azul means blue (color) in English but it’s a popular name around 💙 thank you for reading I loved writing this piece!! 🇲🇽♥️

Tag list: @lyarr24 @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @ironpen @kittycatcait219 @shelundeadxxxx @kathrinemelissa @autumns-apple @lau219

[couchez-vous]

Supercorp "The Wedding Planner" AU!!

Lena as the wedding planner who gave up on love- those who can't wed, plan, and she's the best at what she does. She wears power suits and controls every aspect of a wedding down to the best man's speech. She's still carrying the hurt of being cheated on, and that betrayal is echoed in Andrea bursting into her life and trying to cheat/leave her fiancee for Lena. When she meets Kara she pushes her away because she doesn't believe that her love is genuine. They haven't known each other long enough to get married, why would Kara want to? Lena doesn't offer the option to date because she's so thrown off, Kara's gorgeous and kind she can't really mean that she wants to be with Lena Luthor, right?

Kara as the hopeless romantic sweetheart who wants to marry Lena immediately upon their first meeting since they were children. Earnest, sweet, good with her hands (makes a replica bird nest as a gift!). A Kara who thinks Lena is the most beautiful woman she's ever seen and is accustomed to Kryptonian arranged marriages, so she assumes Lena wants her too because the Luthors arranged it. Kara fries up potstickers for their friend-date and gives her good advice and reminisces with her about Lena's birth mom. Lena realizes she's developed a crush on Kara but keeps it to herself. Then Kara makes a big romantic gesture to propose and promises to take care of her "you will make me the happiest woman on earth" Lena accepts, but still has her doubts

Andrea as Lena's charming unfaithful soon-to-be-wed What If? Lena is drawn to her because she's a sweet-talking doctor who saved her life, but they constantly bicker. Their push and pull rollercoaster interactions feel normal because that's how Lena's relationship with Siobhan was, but she doesn't want that kind of love anymore. She needs someone stable and understanding

Lucy Lane as Andrea's fiancee

Jess as Lena's wingwoman

Siobhan as Lena's happily married cheating ex

Andrea leaves Lucy in a mutual breakup and runs to Lena before she gets married. She wants to run away together. Lena sees the situation for what it is: Andrea trying to hop from one serious relationship to another. She tells Andrea a firm no and marries Kara in the courthouse

Kara dips and kisses her softly and Lena's heart is warmed. they honeymoon in Ireland <3

I want Lena to have the self-awareness to recognize her pattern of wanting unavailable people, the self-respect to say no to the toxicity, and enough hope in her heart to take a leap of faith with Kara and then being more in love than she ever thought possible

[yoga-onion]

Legends and myths about trees

Celtic beliefs in trees (15)

H for Huath (Hawthorn) - May 13th - June 9th

“May tree - Sixth month of the Celtic tree calendar (Ref)”

colour: midnight blue; Gem: lapis lazuli; Gender: female; Patrons: Olwen, Blodeuedd, Chaldean, Humen, Selene, Virgin Mary; Symbols: love + marriage, fertility + birth, reproduction, heart

The short, thorny, graceful hawthorn. The slender hawthorn trunk and branches twist as the years go by. In winter they are particularly beautiful, standing clinging to misty wildernesses and craggy rocky outcrops, or clustered on open ranges of hills that their appearance is spectacular. Leaves and flowers appear simultaneously in May, signalling the change of season from spring to summer. Hawthorn flowers bloom in clusters, so that at the height of spring, rows of white froth run across the fields and mountains, a scene aptly captured by the English writer H. E. Bates as 'the fluffy cream floating in May'.

In spring, when the hawthorn flowers are in full bloom, the air releases a musky, sweet, rich fragrance all around. Small round berries turn burgundy in autumn.

In Ireland, hawthorn is still cherished as a magical tree protected by the fairy kingdom. Tradition has it that if you cut down a single hawthorn tree standing alone in a field or burial mound, you will lose your livestock and household possessions.

Hawthorn trees protect wells and springs as fairy trees. The beautiful flowers of hawthorn are also said to deliver prayers to the heavens. Even today, many people tie rags and other items to hawthorn trees standing near wells and springs, wishing for good luck or that their love will reach the person they love.

Before Christianity, hawthorn was the supreme fertility symbol and at the May Festival, people confided their love, danced to their heart's content and made love in the woods. Among the Celts, spring was the season for marriage, and it was customary to bring a bouquet of hawthorn flowers to weddings to ensure that the couple would be blessed with children.

In Britain, the earliest known hawthorn goddess was Olwen ('white footprints'), a woman of courage, wit and beauty. The well-known mythological tale of Culhwch and Olwen, in which King Arthur's cousin, Culhwch, overcame 40 impossible tasks that seemed virtually unattainable set out by Olwen's father, the giant king, Yspaddaden, and marry his beloved Olwen.

As the beautiful, white hawthorn flowers opened, people celebrated the power of nature and love to bring new life into the world and marvelled at the miracles of sexual activity, pregnancy and childbirth. For the Celts, sexual activity, pregnancy and childbirth were not something to be ashamed of, but an essential part of life and a sacred expression that one could love.

木にまつわる伝説・神話

ケルト人の樹木の信仰 (15)

HはHuath (ｻﾝｻﾞｼ) - 5月13日 - 6月9日

『5月の木〜 ケルトの木の暦（参照）の第6月』

色: ミッドナイト・ブルー; 宝石: ラピスラズリ; 性: 女性; 守護神: オルェン、ブロダイウェズ、カルデア、ヒュメン、セレネ、聖母マリア; シンボル: 愛＋結婚、豊穣＋出産、生殖、心臓

背丈が低くとげをもった優雅なサンザシ。ほっそりとしたサンザシの幹や枝は、年が経つにつれてねじれていく。冬になるとその姿は特に美しく、霧の立ち込めた荒野や、ごつごつとした岩の露頭にしがみつくように立つ姿、また広々と連なる丘に群れをなしている様子は、見事というより他はない。葉と花は5月に同時に姿を現し、春から夏に季節が変わることを知らせている。サンザシの花は群れを成して咲くことから、春の盛り、白い泡立ちの列が野山を縦横に走り、その様子を英国人作家のH・E・ベイツは、「五月に浮かび上がるふわふわしたクリーム」と的確に表現している。

春、サンザシの花が満開になると、麝香 (じゃこう)のような甘く濃厚な���りがあたり一面に放たれる。小さな丸い実は、秋になるとワインレッドに変わる。

アイルランドでは今もなお、サンザシは妖精の国に守られた魔法の木として大切にされている。野原や埋葬塚に一本だけぽつんと立っているサンザシの木を切ると家畜を失うか家財を無くすという伝承もある。

サンザシは妖精の木として、井戸や泉を守っている。また、サンザシの美しい花は祈りを天まで届けてくれるという。現在でも井戸や泉のそばに立つサンザシには、幸運が訪れるますように、あるいは好きな人に思いが届きますようにと願う大勢の人々が、布きれや品物を結び付けている。

キリスト教以前は、サンザシは最高の豊穣のシンボルであり、5月祭には、人々は愛を打ち明け、心ゆくまで踊り明かし、森で愛を交わした。ケルト人の間で春は結婚の季節であり、夫婦が子宝に恵まれるように、結婚式にはサンザシの花束を持っていく習慣があった。

英国では、サンザシの女神として最も古くから知られているのが、勇気と機転と美貌の持ち主、オルェン (‘白い足跡’の意)。アーサー王の従兄弟であるキルフーフが、オルェンの父である巨人の王アスパザデンが課した事実上達成不可能と思われる40の無理難題を克服し、愛するオルウェンと結婚した神話『キルフーフとオルェン』がよく知られている。

美しく、そして白いサンザシの花が開くと、人々は、新しい命を宿す自然と愛の力を祝福し、性の営み、妊娠、出産という奇蹟に驚きの声を上げた。ケルト人にとって、性行為や妊娠、出産は恥ずべきことではなく、人生になくてはならない大切な一部であり、人は愛することができるということの神聖な表現であった。

[thethirdromana]

I'm home alone on Saturday evening, what is there to do but go to Netflix and watch a truly appalling romcom? The cat's with me and I have alcohol: it's time for Irish Wish.

I normally rate Alexander Vlahos as an actor so I'm not quite sure what's happened here. His accent is to an actual Irish accent what this is to an elephant:

Picard's son from Picard is here! He's throwing fistfuls of charm at the dubious script and some of it is sticking.

Aww, Maddie is clumsy! What an unusual trait for a character in a romcom.

Fascinated by the choice to dress the mystical Irish fairy in a silk headscarf and a salwar kameez. I mean, it works, it's just... unexpected.

The puff sleeves are awful but I'm honestly impressed that Maddie has a wedding dress that she can run in.

Maybe I'm just failing at genre conventions for this kind of romcom but it feels like it would be helpful if Paul were even a tiny bit likeable, just to give some sense of why Maddie has feelings for him, and also to make it seem like maybe Emma wouldn't be getting such a raw deal out of it.

Is it just that he's loaded and has a massive house?

I've just realised that the house is supposed to be a short journey from Lough Tay, in County Wicklow, but Maddie flew into Knock Airport. And yes, I know that expecting film geography to make sense is a mug's game, but I'm also not sure why they would choose Knock Airport and not Dublin? Is this airport product placement?

Was it that they didn't think it would be plausible for Maddie to end up on a quaint old-fashioned bus from Dublin, but it was plausible that the same quaint old-fashioned bus would drive for three hours across most of Ireland to drop Maddie at the most plot-convenient location?

Oh, and now we're at the Cliffs of Moher. A six-hour round trip from Paul's house.

Let's not even get into the James Joyce thing.

James (not Joyce) tells Maddie that it would "hardly be difficult" to move her wedding to the other side of the country the weekend before it's due to take place. And the sentiment is sweet, but as someone who has organised a wedding, I have to say: it would, in fact, be difficult. Really quite difficult.

It's just not the most straightforward location to hold a wedding, you know?

I can't believe they're doing the classic "he teaches her how to shoot" scene, but with darts.

DARTS. The sexiest leisure activity.

And the height of romance is being weirdly judgmental about someone who you've known for a day.

Picard Junior is giving it socks, in fairness. I hope he gets to do this kind of thing in a better film than this at some point.

Also, Irish fairy lady is... St Brigid? Probably best not to dig into the theological implications of St Brigid-as-trickster-spirit.

The music after the Big Damn Kiss goes on just a tiny bit too long.

It is genuinely unclear to me whether Maddie intends to write a book on the Cliffs of Moher, as in about them, or physically on them. Feels like it could be either in this film.

Well, if nothing else, I hope Knock Airport's marketing team are pleased.

[skylarbee]

After seeing a post where it said that Miles no longer posted photos of him and Alex, I thought the same thing, they never appear together again, whether on Miles' IG or elsewhere, even if they are at the same party etc... Just a little hasty hug on stage and that's it. It seems like there is a fortress that has been built around Alex, (or that he himself built) As if they should no longer be seen together. This is why I am more and more skeptical about the possibility of a TLSP3, as if they had gone "too far" (and I'm not just talking about "milex") that saddens me, in done there I need to be reassured haha! Sorry for this rambling but I really appreciate your point of view and your analyzes ;)

first of all, thank you anon for your kind words, i really appreciate them!! <3 and don't worry about ramblings as you must know that it's all i do when answering an ask and it's what i'm gonna do now 😂

yeah, it is is saddening (and sometimes concerning) that we basically never see them together nowadays, but i think that if they were actually trying their hardest to hide then we wouldn't have spotted them at the scott walker tribute concert for example, or at that party or whatever where miles is in the background (where they both knew they could be photographed together at any time), or miles wouldn't have said many times that alex goes over to his place or they have dinner and such, or alex wouldn't have asked miles to support them in ireland (and the fact that these were the last shows... of course he wanted to end it with a bang -this could be interpreted in more ways than one-), etc. i thought that the hug in london was very very sweet and so intimate, and even the one in ireland in the dark was cute (the lack of sntm was weird), not to mention alex singing to and pointing at miles so unashamedly (c'mon, he must've known people would figure it out but didn't care). zackery's wedding was a weird one as they were seated apart from each other, but there is no way that they didn't talk to each other - there just isn't any evidence.

i know there are people who say that this is done deliberately by alex's pr team and because they saw the effects of the eycte tour and don't want people to start going crazy over them and ignore louise in the meantime and get the rumours starting about his sexuality... i'm not sure whether to believe this or not. it seems a bit too far-fetched, but who knows 🤷‍♀️ i wouldn't be too surprised it was at least a little true.

speaking of evidence, we know how hard louise tries to show off and exploits her boyfriend and how silly it all looks in the end... to me, miles not posting about alex just means that what they have is reserved for them and them only. the pictures miles has in his phone with/of alex are just theirs, their memories are just theirs, whenever they hang out and the moments they share are just theirs - and this is so important. love, in whatever form, shouldn't be used as a tool to make others jealous or to post in order to gain likes or get people talking - it should be something more private, more precious, something to share between the two of you that is yours only - this should be enough for happiness. maybe after eycte and the fans' reactions they decided to keep their relationship and their private life a little more private. besides, it was always the girlfriends that posted alex a lot and not miles, and i'm not sure he wasn't too big of a fan of that, given... well, everything we know about him, and this interview from 2016:

Like Chung, Bagley has been known to post a lot of pictures of herself looking impossibly attractive on Instagram. There she is posing with her dog, posing naked in the bath … but never, as far as I can tell, posing with Turner. Is that because he’d rather not be there? “I don’t recall submitting that request, but I’m not sorry about it if I’m not on there.”

i think that miles is just simply respecting what he knows about alex and his dislike of social media, and he knows that posting photos with alex would only result in getting more likes than usual and people saying that he's profiting off of his fame. alex and their relationship means more to him than a few likes and reposts.

[endlessly-cursed]

𝘿𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙪 𝙤𝙛 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙡

"𝙄 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘼𝙠𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙖, 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡."

BASICS

Name: Denegifu McAlpin, neé of Bristol

Birthday: 30th of August, 987

Zodiac sign: Leo

Weight: 85kg

Height: 1.62m

Religion: Catholic

Eye colour: Blue

Hair colour: Golden blonde

Faceclaim: Melanie Thierry

FAMILY 

Mother: Henriette of Wessex

The first known Lady of the house in her own right, she was a doting mother who ensured her daughters weren't made less by her elder brother, and as the eldest, she was the one to set an example to her sisters. Denegifu loved her mother dearly

Father: Frederick of Kent, né Geirmund Eriksson ( @that-scouse-wizard )

A fearsome yet loving man, as his first daughter, they had a special bond, and was sad to let go of his daughter when she married into the Scottish McAlpins

Other relatives: Odalric the Red, eldest brother

As the eldest and only son, he was destined for the castle. Odalric and Denegifu were perhaps the closest pair, often sharing the pain of being the eldest

Sisters: Juliana of York

Denegifu never once understood why Juliana was so jealous and resentful of her. At every turn, she tried to outdo her and be the best of them all, from childhood to her end. She didn't live to see it, but Juliana would end up regretting it

Akelda the Tragic

The sweetest and most amiable of her sisters, she was considered a pure, miraculous girl. She was the glue among the sisters and the one that kept things from falling apart. However, when she was always a sickly girl, and despite having recovered from the illness, was poisoned by her father's enemies, changing the course of the family forever

Cuthfelda of Ireland

Denegifu and Cuthfelda weren't close, but Dene loved her sister dearly and helped her mother raise her. The last she heard from her, she had gone to Ireland to find her own path. She wouldn't live to see her found her own bloodline, the Willows

Hilda the Smith

The rebel of her sisters, she didn't wish the luxury, and instead spent her days in the forgery. While Dene didn't understand why, it brought joy to Hilda, and supported her whenever she could

Agatha of Kent

The youngest of the family, she wanted to follow into the family's footsteps and inserted herself into courtly intrigues and, despite having been a child when Denegifu was shipped to marry, she wrote to her often and made sure she was cared for.

Friends: OPEN!

Significant Other: Bruce McAlpin

A member of the Scottish royal family at the time, when Lady Henriette visited the family, Bruce fell for Denegifu's beauty, who was only twelve. He begged his father to wed her to him, and, after much negotiating with Lord Frederick, they agreed on a sizeable dowry and powerful allyship in exchange of Denegifu's hand in marriage. She bled a year later, and was shipped to Bruce's home, where he wed her when she turned sixteen. They had a happy a loving marriage, and soon expected their only child.

However, the labor turned long and sour, and Denegifu delivered a baby girl three days later, and died of puerperal fever a day later. The girl was named per Denegifu's wishes: Enyra. When the conflicts the royal family turned bloody, Lord Frederick retrieved his granddaughter and took her to safety into his castle, where, devastated by grief, gave her to his son Odalric to raise as his own. Bruce only saw her once before he succumbed to the carnage of the McAlpins.

PERSONALITY

Overall personality: Sweet, generous and pious, Denegifu is a tranquil woman who has no love for court intrigues and prefers to stay home and take care of her loved ones. She hates conflict and wishes to be left alone.

Positive traits: Generous, pious, rational, sensitive

Negative traits: Shy, passive, sensible

Guilty pleasure: Bathing naked in the lake

HOMETOWN

Denegifu grew up in the province of Wessex, which would be known later as Leeds. The castle was big enough for her family, and grew up with a lake at her reach and full staff at her service.

BACKSTORY 

Denegifu was born during a family holiday in Bristol as the second child of Lord Frederick of Kent and Lady Henriette of Wessex, and the first of six daughters. She grew up in a relatively happy childhood, and despite the one-sided rivalry between her and Juliana, she never asked for nothing and was destined to a great match, and she made one in Bruce McAlpin. However, the match didn't last long, for Denegifu perished in childbirth after a complicated and long labour.

MISC

Denegifu is adept in the lyre, knows how to sing, dance and recite poetry in Latin and Greek

She was a fervent Catholic

Out of her sisters, she was the most beautiful, and all the knights fought for her favour from an early age

She dreamt of having a large family

She had planned to go to Hogwarts, but was instead married. She wished for her children to have an education despite being married

She would've been a Hufflepuff, and always dreamt of being an apprentice of Helga like her mother

She was also taught Danish by her father

She was devastated by Akelda's death, and such an early demise sadly affected her already complicated pregnancy, setting her demise as well

[attapullman]

Mo-Mo, dare I say........fall with neighbor!bob or bungalow!bob???

It's already sweater weather with the leaves falling and Bob comes out of the house one day in his tan Carhartt jacket, his cowboy boots and those tight, dark-washed jeans that show off his pretty little butt perfectly and he tells you that you're going to the orchards.

You guys pick a TON of apples and after, you guys decide to go to the local pumpkin patch to get your pick of the Halloween pumpkins. You bring the dogs too and your little Cavalier spaniel looks super cute in her little orange and green tartan sweater, jumping on the pumpkin carts and all over the fat orange pumpkins while Bob's little blue-heeler is running after her.

You get home and sure enough, Meemaw's gotta cook. Ever since she moved in with you guys, she's taught you all the secret recipes that her mother and her own meemaw taught her how to make. She makes tons of apple pie, cider donuts, apple-cinnamon oatmeal cookies etc. with the apples and the pumpkins she uses to make pie, pumpkin soup, cookies and all sorts of other good stuff.

You and Bob loooooove carving the pumpkins. He gets super into it and can make pretty much anything. For your wedding anniversary, he made a jack-o-lantern that had Jack Skellington and Sally in their wedding getup. Meemaw also taught him how to needle-felt and he made a while Nightmare Before Christmas village.

Leaf piles GALORE!!!! You and Bob have alot of kids in the neighborhood and the parents especially love it when you let them come and jump in the leaf piles. The Daggers all live across the street and let their own kids come play in the leaves. Yours and Bob's oldest boy loves tag-teaming with Natasha's son, Gabe, and Hangman's little dude and they always start playing Navy SEALS in the leaf piles (lol).

Lots and lots of fall knitting. Meemaw taught you how to do the Irish style knitting that her mom and grandma grew up doing in Ireland. Bob still has his lil Irish knit sweaters from when he was a baby and your little girl loves to put them on her teddy bears and on her baby dolls.

You guys love bringing nature into the house and you'll make fall wreaths for the dining room tables and for your nieces and nephews as well. The girls always thing they're fall fairies running around in the woods but you and Bob love it anyways (lol).

Ahhhh!!! The fall vibes!!!

I loooooooooooove autumn and this just makes me 🤩 because it's so cozy and sweet and warm - which are all the best parts of this season! Bringing dogs to the pumpkin patch is my love language!

I can absolutely see all the little Dagger kids playing in the leaf piles and all the potlucks that you and Bob host for everyone - it's a miracle everyone fits in the house!

I need Meemaw's recipes for everything!

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Love Conquers All (Supposedly)

Chapter Five of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: It's been challenging - to say the least - coming back to Pigeon Creek. How is it possible for everything to be so different and yet it all feels exactly the same? Linley's not sure. All she knows is that she misses New York City, the glitz, the glam, the fashion, and Bradley Bradshaw. God, does she miss Bradley Bradshaw. Like a night in shining armor, it's a phone call from Bradley that reminds her what she's fighting for. It's just her luck that she'll have to fight for Bradley by fighting Jake until he signs the divorce papers, right?

Themes: angst, love, smut, attraction

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3757

A/N: Oh, here we go! This is the chapter where we finally get to see more of Linley's relationships with the other denizens of Pigeon Forge, not just Jake and Mav! I hope you all love it!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

New York City - Mayor’s Residence

Bradley can’t believe that his mom is still going on and on about Linley and the wedding. Linley’s only been back in Alabama for a day; they’ve been engaged for just a little bit longer than that, and Carole Bradshaw is on the warpath.He never would have agreed to meet his mom for breakfast.

“Do you even know who she is, Brad? I mean, what her family is like, where she comes from? Don’t give me that shit about how she’s told you stories. Do you have any proof that Linley Floyd is who she says she is?” Even at home, his mom always looks like she’s ready to attend a board meeting or kiss babies for a few additional polling points. But more likely, she’s expecting photographers to pop up when she least expects it for an interview with the mayor of New York. If it’s happened once, it’ll happen again. That’s one of Carole Bradshaw’s favorite mottos and it’s one she lives by.

“I love her, Mom.” Bradley can’t help trying to reason with her.

“That’s nice, sweetheart. But you have to understand, we’re not better than the people we serve, or worse. We’re just different. We serve the people to the best of our abilities, and we have to be good examples.” She’s got a frown on her face as she puts the newspaper down.

“Do you have to be so controlling?” It’s a question Bradley’s been meaning to ask for a very long time, and even if he probably shouldn’t ask it, it still slips out.

“Is it controlling if I know what’s best for you?” She takes a sip of her coffee before continuing. God she’s impossible.

“In any case, you tell Linley that I’ve put a hold on the Plaza Hotel here in New York for June. It’ll give you both a nice, long engagement to look forward to.” 

Bradley waits until she’s mid-mouthful of her poached eggs and toast before he interjects, “We’re getting married in Ireland over Christmas, actually.”

She swallows hurriedly and that’s the most satisfaction Bradley’s had in a long time. That feeling doesn’t last however, because she spits out, “If you think I’m going to let some girl talk you into getting married in some foreign country…” 

This is about when Bradley starts seeing red. “She’s not some girl, mom. She’s my fiancée.”

“You are just like your father. One minute you’re brilliant, controlled, and steadfast, the next minute you’re throwing it all away on some girl. You know how hard it was for your father to claw his way back into politics once he married me. Why would you make the same mistake he did?!” Bradley’s left in shock as his mom races out of the dining room like something he said just burned her. Okay, so maybe reconciling Carole Bradshaw to the fact that Bradley’s marrying a fashion designer from Hicksville, Alabama is going to take a bit longer than initially expected.

Pigeon Creek, Alabama - Main Street

A couple of hours later finds you in your dad’s beat up old truck rattling back into town. The midmorning sun is hot already as it beams down on the road. You weren’t planning on being in Pigeon Creek for so long. This errand should have taken max half an hour. How could you forget how stubborn Jake could be when he wanted to be? With Jake being a complete idiot, it’s going to take much longer than you expected to get the divorce you’ve been trying to get for the past seven years. So you’re going into town to withdraw some cash and prepare for the day. You call your lawyer while you’re on the road. You need to know how long it will take to get this divorce signed, sealed and buried away.

“I understand Mr. Fitch. Tell me, how long does a contested divorce take?” You pull into a parking spot in town.

“Eighteen months?! I don’t even have eighteen days, Mr. Fitch!” You continue talking to Mr. Fitch as you walk down the street to the bank. Of course, just then, one of the hicks in town starts cat-calling you from his truck. But the more he says, the more his voice sounds familiar. “I have to call you back, Mr. Fitch. In the meantime can you please see if there is anything you can do?”

You hang up on your lawyer with every intention of giving this hick a piece of your mind. At least, that is, until you see who it is. The sight of an old friend is enough to have you veering across the side of the road towards the truck stopped right in the middle of the dusty street.

“Bobby?! Bobby Floyd, look at you!” You wrap your arms around him and it finally, finally feels like you’re home. If there was anyone you could call your best friend other than Jake, it would be Bob. 

“Look at you, Lin! You look fantastic! New York's been treating you well, huh?” You grin up at Bobby, nodding as he pushes his glasses up his nose.

“How’ve you been?” As he sets you down you see a couple of members of the town’s gossip circle looking at you and Bobby. The hug alone would be enough to have tongues a-waggin’.

“I'm good, Bobby. Though, I shouldn’t keep you too long. Wouldn’t want to make your girl back home angry.” Though you’re not sure he has a girl, looking at the slight blush on his face, and well, who are you if you don’t ask?

“You do have a girl, don’t you?” 

When you prod, gently, because this is Bobby, sweet, soft-spoken Bobby, all you get is, “I can barely afford to take care of myself, forget some high-maintenance babe.”

“Weren’t you dating Cindy in high school? I thought you guys were getting really close!” You’re smiling at him as he grins unrepentantly and a little sheepishly at you.

“Naw. She’s a women's softball coach up in Nashville.” You truly can't believe that he and Cindy didn’t stay together after high-school. They were so close.

"I'm sorry about that, Bobby." You really are. Bob's got a heart of gold. If she couldn't see what a catch he is, someone somewhere is sure to. As you look at one of your closest friends you’re not surprised at all to see mischief in his eyes.

“Don't be, Lin. People grow and change and keep secrets. I mean, you have your own fair share of secrets, huh? Of course, yours we can all read about on the internet. Guess we know all about the cock in your henhouse.” 

You gasp and smack his arm. “You sure do know how to make a girl blush!” You have less time than you thought if Bobby Ray already knows about Bradley, and his nickname the tabloids so lovingly bestowed after the first snaps they got of him on the beach in close-fitting swim trunks. Honestly the paparazzi need to get better at nicknames for people, because Rooster Bradshaw is far from tongue-in-cheek. Come on Joe Nobody, you really want everyone to know you think the New York Secretary of Housing has a big dick? Natasha had laughed until she cried and then immediately asked you if it was true. But you digress. You need Jake to sign those papers before all the paparazzi in the country descend on Greeneville and by extension Pigeon Creek. It’s only a matter of time and it’s your worst nightmare. You know how to talk to reporters about clothes, not scandals.

“I have to get back to the factory. Are you going to be in town for a while? I’d love to catch up.” Bobby seems none-the-wiser to your inner turmoil as he hugs you tight one more time before opening his truck door.

You smile at your friend, murmuring, “I hope not. I just need to hit the bank and talk to Jake about something and I should be out of town pretty soon.”

The minute you say the words, “hit the bank”, Bob is already recoiling in terror and you know why. You wave him away with a smile as he drives away. But that leaves you to look at the Pigeon Creek bank. It still looks the same as the last time you saw it. But you also remember why Bob recoiled in terror. Accidentally blow up a bank one time and everyone automatically assumes that you’re going to do it again. Eugene at the bank still looks terrified to see you, for one, when you walk through the doors.

“Good to see you, Miss Linley. Miss Dorothy, I’m taking my lunch.” Is all you get out of him before he’s running out of the bank like you’re going to blow it up again.

You walk up to the teller window, and are surprised to see someone you think you vaguely recognise standing there. 

“Dorothy?! Is that you? You look amazing!” You’re not lying. The last time you saw Dorothy Thompson she had on braces and looked completely different.

“Hey Linley. It’s good to see you. Thanks. The last time you saw me, I was about 110 pounds heavier.” She smacks her gum as she looks you up and down. "You look great too."

“I was looking for an ATM, but I didn't see one.” You point out the front like it’ll show Dorothy the lack of an ATM outside.

“Yup. Russ hates ‘em. He thinks it’ll detract from the customer experience in the bank. Call me Dot, Lin.” She leans through the window a bit closer. “We’ve known each other for years, after all!” 

You’re not sure what to say in the face of her overwhelmingly Southern Charm. Oh, Toto you’re not in New York anymore. When did backstabbing double-speak become more comfortable than well-meant small-town nosiness for you, anyways?

“So…” Her voice drops to a whisper as she murmurs, “I hear from Mickey that you and Jake had a pretty wild reunion. But then again, it’s just pillow talk, talkin’.”

“You and Mickey?” You can’t believe it. Dorothy hated Mickey when you were in school.

“Yeah, it’s been three years.” She shows you her ring, smirking, as she says, “It isn’t Tiffany’s or anything, but anyways, you can’t believe everything you hear on TV, now can you?”

Yeah, you’re definitely running out of time if the news of your engagement is already on TV.

“Um, I’d like to make a withdrawal out of my …” You fumble in your purse to pull out your wallet.

“Your joint account?” At Dorothy’s innocent suggestion, you get a wonderfully wicked idea. “You know, your joint account with Jake? From what I hear, y’all are still married.”

“Yes.” You grin at Dorothy as innocently as you possibly can. “Yes we are. From my joint account, please.”

With the frankly eye-watering amount of money you’d withdrawn from the joint account, you’re ready for war. You spend the rest of the morning going to all of the home decor stores in the greater Greenville area and buying things to make Jake’s house look like home. You finish up with a batch of groceries and let yourself into the house with as much aplomb as you can muster. Jake wanted a wife, he’s going to get a wife. It’s just icing on the cake that hopefully he’ll be so pissed off that he signs the papers and you can escape Pigeon Creek with nothing more than the accent.

When you see the old sea-plane land on the lake with a plume of water from the kitchen window, you're ready to play the part. What part? The part that will get you a divorce in a spectacular style and with spectacular speed. Jake looks exhausted as he walks through the front door - which you'd expected. But the exhaustion soon fades into pure rage when he sees you walking out of the kitchen wearing an apron and carrying a bottle of wine.

"Hi, Jake!" Your voice is all saccharine Southern sweetness. "Welcome home, honey! How was your day? How's your mama doing?"

He chucks his leather jacket through the open bedroom door, uncaring of how it thuds heavily to the ground moments later, before glaring at you.

"Cut the shit, Linley. Where's all my stuff?"

"I just picked up after you, sugar." You cup his cheek gently, rubbing at a bit of grease on his cheek. "It's what a wife ought to do, isn't it?"

"Not a wife who doesn't live here." You just shrug before walking back into the kitchen to continue chopping up veggies for the salad you're making as the final touch to dinner. The kitchen smells fantastic, if you do say so yourself. You’d gone to all the trouble to bake up a lasagne after all, his mom’s recipe, and you know he’ll be hungry the moment he smells it.

"Can you just tell me where the hide-a-key is, Linley?" He sounds like he's at the end of his rope as he takes in all of the things you've bought for the house. You just ignore him.

"I spoke to Mrs. Garcia about her tractor. You know, I'm so happy that we can let bygones be bygones. We’re all clear, though I will say that it isn’t nice that you called the police on your wife, Jakey." You add the final bit of cucumber to the salad before setting it on the dining room table.

"It's nice to hear your accent again." Jake's looking at the ceramic fruit on the mantel like it's an alien creature. "I wasn't aware you could find and lose it so easily, though."

"I found a lot of things today." You toss the salad a bit before walking back into the kitchen where Jake is looking at the magic you've wrought in his filthy old kitchen.

"What the hell happened in here?!" He sounds shocked and it makes a wicked glee spark in your chest. "My magnets are all gone,” His voice hushes as he opens the fridge door and sticks his head in. “And what the hell happened to my fridge?! It's all chick food!"

"That's not chick food, honey! It's light beer. Fewer calories, you know? You're getting a bit of a tummy, baby." You pet his stomach a couple of times before walking back over to chop some parsley on the cutting board. You’d found a singular bottle of ketchup and six-pack of beer when you looked in it earlier. The man’s been eating takeout every day, for every meal, and he’s still got rock-hard abs. It doesn’t escape you how his stomach growls at the smell of a home-cooked dinner in the oven.

"I tried to pick out a new bed at the Sit 'n Sleep but everything was disgusting. Have you been there lately?! I guess I should just order something in from New York." You keep your eyes on the cutting board, even as you hear Jake's boots clomp back out into the living room.

"Darlin' you can buy whatever you want. It's your money, after all." Your grin is vindictive as you hear those words.

"But I thought you told me I should think of it as our money when we got married, Jake?" He freezes in the doorway, beer can still held in his hand and you can't resist stepping just a little closer.

"Are the words 'joint checking' ringing a bell, Jakey?" 

His green eyes are flashing dangerously when he turns back to you.

"How much of that money did you take?" You can hear the rage in every word as you look innocently up at him.

"All of it." The words drip off of your lips like the poison off of the apple the Evil Queen gave to Snow White as a flush builds on his cheeks.

"Sunovabitch!" His roar is deeply satisfying, as is the way he crushes the empty can and chucks it away.

"Why do you have so much money anyway, Jakey? There's no way you made it all working at the tire factory. You're not doing anything illegal now, are you?" You're so close to victory you can nearly taste it. He doesn't answer your questions, his face stony as he glares at you.

"Just sign the divorce papers and I'll give it all back." You proffer the papers and pen to him.

"Fine." You're already grinning in victory when he grabs the pen. "On one condition, I don't ask you about your boyfriend and you don't ask me about my life. Deal?"

Your joy at your near victory slips away in an instant. Jake looks disappointed in you.

"Who?” You clear your throat and try again, “Who told you?" You're more than a little shocked that the news has spread so far around town already.

"Nobody told me, sweetheart. I may talk slow, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid." He snatches the pen from your hand and pulls the papers out of their envelope. “ I know how to use the internet just as well as the folks in New York. You know the cafe Mrs. Garcia runs? It has a computer in it now.”

There's an imperceptible shake to his long fingers as he glances over the papers.

"I guess it's true what they say, huh? Nobody finds their soulmate at ten years old." His words make you feel inexplicably sad. But just as soon as he says those words, a smirk is taking over his face. You should’ve known better than to fall for his bullshit.

“Actually, you know what, Linley?” Jake sets the papers and pen down before walking into the open bedroom. You pretend not to notice how the muscles in his back ripple as Jake tugs on a plaid shirt the color of his eyes. 

“I forgot that I have a date tonight. And you know what? I should probably have my lawyer look over those papers. I’m just a dumb corn-fed hick, weren’t those your words, sweetheart? I should probably make sure you’re not taking me to the cleaner’s or anything.” 

Your scream of frustration echoes in your ears as you follow Jake’s truck to The Hard Deck a couple of hours later. Dinner had been tense, incredibly so, considering how Jake couldn’t seem to stand looking at anything but his plate and you were busy trying to envision how easily you could wrap your hands around his throat and strangle the smug grin off of his face. It’s typical of Jake to take a date to his mama’s bar, the one place where he will never have to pay for drinks. The live band sounds just as tuneful (and loud) as always as you pull up to the gravel lot in front of the Hard Deck. Just before you get out, you pull out Bradley’s ring and put it on your finger. It makes you miss him just a little less, and fills you with enough confidence to face all the old friends you’ll no doubt find inside. Just hearing the country songs getting butchered has your blood pressure rising. What you wouldn’t give to be back in New York getting dinner and drinks with Bradley right now.

You can picture it, practically in front of your eyes. The bartenders who are always polite and know how to pour the perfect martini, the jazz band playing softly in the background, and Bradley, your Bradley, sitting in front of you in a perfectly tailored suit smiling at you. A place where all you can smell is his cologne and sweet perfumed air. It sounds like heaven and absolutely not like the Hard Deck, which stinks faintly of horses and cows and strongly of spilled beer and liquor, even from where you stand in the parking lot near your car, quite far away from the swinging doors. 

When your phone rings, you don’t even hesitate to pull it out, you’re that desperate for the reminders of the life you were leading just days ago. It’s a phone number you’ve had memorized since the first week you met the man who owns it, and as you pull open the phone, you’re chanting, “I love you” until the sound of Bradley’s laughter washes over you.

“Aww, honey. Miss me that badly?” You can picture his smile even thousands of miles away.

“More than you know, baby. More than you know.” You’re filled with a sense of homesickness even as you’re smiling into the phone.

“I miss you too, honey. But, I actually called because I saw something that might make you smile. I picked up a copy of New York Magazine, and I was reading the articles. I’m going to read this quote to you, and you tell me what you think.”

“Linley Floyd is a cool breath of fresh air blowing through Fashion Week. Her designs are fresh and exciting. We’re going to be keeping our eyes on her as her star in the fashion world is on the rise!”

You giggle and jump up and down a little in excitement at hearing his words.

“Bradley! I needed to hear that almost as much as I need you here with me, right now.” His groan makes you ache to have him in your bed and in your arms.

“I can fly down whenever you’d like, honey. Just say the word and I’ll be right there.” 

You blow a kiss down the phone before sighing out, “I know, baby. And while I’d love to have you here, I still haven’t had the chance to tell my dad about us. And it’s a small town. The minute you drive into town wearing one of your nice suits, everyone would know. Let me tell my dad first, alright, baby?” You can’t help your soft smile or how  missing Bradley feels like something is missing in your life. “I love you, baby. Goodnight!”

Thanks to Bradley, you finally have enough confidence to walk through the doors and enter the Hard Deck. You’re getting looks, from the boys and men you’ve known practically your whole life, and it makes you wonder, just once if you should’ve taken your Dad’s offer to borrow one of his old flannels. But you shake those thoughts off. This is who you are now. Pigeon Creek can deal with it if they don’t like it. You elbow your way to the bar. If you’re here, you might as well grab a drink, right?

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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[foundtherightwords]

The Simple Thought of You - Chapter 1

Pairing: Billy Knight x OFC (Esme from "The Quiet Chaos")

Summary: Billy and Esme have been dating for nearly two years, and naturally, their thoughts turn to the next step in their relationship. But when it turns out that their future plans may not align, can they reconcile their differences and stay together?

A/N: I've been thinking about a sequel/epilogue for Billy and Esme's story for a while, but it didn't take shape until I happened across an article about the scouring of the White Horse of Uffington, so here it is. It's short compared to "The Quiet Chaos", but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: angst, discussion of children and being childfree, mentions of mental health issues, some smut (non-explicit)

Chapter word count: 3.9k

Chapter 1

Everyone agreed that the weather was perfect for a wedding. The sky was the clearest, brightest shade of cerulean, the sun was warm and gentle, some of the cool spring air still lingering about, slowing down the march of the heavy summer heat, and the lawn where the ceremony was to take place shone a brilliant emerald green.

Esme, however, paid little attention to the gorgeous weather except to feel relieved that the rain, which had been plaguing them for a week, had decided to stop. She was relieved, too, that the cake had been delivered in time, and that her youngest sister, Tiffany, had been convinced not to dye her whole head of hair rainbow-colored for the occasion. Tiff had settled for the hyacinth blue that was part of the wedding's color scheme instead.

Clutching her bouquet of grape hyacinths that matched her bridesmaid dress, Esme fought the urge to run into the kitchen one last time to make sure everything was OK. Across the aisle, Billy caught her eyes and gave her a reassuring smile as if to say "Relax". He must have noticed how nervous she was. He always did. Esme smiled back and let out a breath. Yes, relax. Billy's smile never failed to have a calming effect on her. She stole another glance at him, and her heart soared with a familiar sense of pride and affection. He looked nice today, with his hair brushed back from his forehead in soft waves, his beard trimmed, and in a new brown suit that matched his eyes, though he still forwent a tie, as usual.

A crash from the kitchen made Esme jump, and she closed her eyes briefly. What possessed Sybil and her fiancée Roisin to have the wedding at their parents' house, Esme would never know. Their flighty, artistic parents may be able to host boisterous Bohemian parties for their friends, but they couldn't handle anything more structured than an afternoon tea, and with Roisin's family coming in from Ireland, that would not do. So it had fallen to Esme, as the maid of honor, to make sure everything was perfect for her sister's big day.

When I do get married, it'll be at a registry office, Esme thought resolutely. Short, sweet, and simple, with none of this faffing about. Then she looked at Billy again and blushed. Thankfully, he was bending over to play with their dog Angua, and didn't see her.

They had been together for nearly two years, two years filled with love and joy, but also heartache and uncertainty. In the first six months, Billy's struggle with his mental health and the return of his no-good older brother, Jimmy, had nearly derailed them. They were parted for several months while Billy recovered in the hospital, agonizing months for Esme, though she'd visited him every day. But once he left the hospital, they moved in together, and had been inseparable since.

With so much on their minds, they had never discussed marriage in those two years. Billy's condition meant that Esme had to learn to take one day at a time, be happy with what they had in the present, and never look too far ahead. It was difficult for someone who used to plan her day down to the hour, but she'd managed it, for the most part, for him. Still, she would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about marriage at all. She'd almost gotten married once, right before she met Billy, and in the fallout of that, she no longer cared about weddings, or even marriage for that matter. After meeting Billy, though, she'd started thinking about marriage again. Not because she had any particular hankering for a big wedding, but because she felt marriage would give both of them some much-needed stability in their lives.

What about Billy, though? She didn't know how he felt about marriage. He had progressed in leaps and bounds since a year ago—the fact that he was here, at this wedding, amongst all these virtual strangers, was a testament to that—and had been holding down a nice, steady job at a woodworking studio, making furniture and doing some woodcarving on the side. Anyone looking at him now would see a healthy, happy young man.

Only Esme knew how Billy's past still loomed over them, how its shadow haunted his looks, how some nights it sent him into her arms, trembling with fears that were very much real but could not be put into words. Marriage is a big step. She knew how difficult it was for him to form connections, to trust, and didn't want to push him into anything he wasn't comfortable with. She'd made that mistake early in their relationship; never again.

Stop stressing about it, she sternly warned herself. One day at a time. If and when it felt right to get married, they would talk about it.

And then music started, the two brides came down the aisle together on the arms of their fathers, and Esme pushed all thoughts of her potential wedding out of her head, to focus on her sister's actual one.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, though Esme couldn't quite relax until all the intricate rituals of the reception—all the speeches and the cutting of the cake—were done. Nobody told an embarrassing story in their speech, nobody tried to smash anybody's face into the cake, and nobody tried to request the DJ to play "Another One Bites the Dust". She counted that as a successful wedding.

She had just barely sat down with Billy and Angua at their table when Sybil and Roisin came over. Both gave Esme rib-crushing hugs. "Thank you so much, sis, for helping us with all this," Sybil said.

"Yeah, it was perfect," agreed Roisin. "You've got a superstar here," she added to Billy, and he responded with a smile as if to say I know.

Before Esme could hide her blush, a little girl, about six or seven, holding the hand of a little boy, about three or four, came running up to them with a bashful look. Roisin's niece and nephew, Esme remembered, her older brother's kids.

"What is it, Daffy, darling?" Roisin asked, turning to them. The little girl leaned over and whispered something into her aunt's ear. Roisin turned back to Esme and Billy, smiling. "Daphne and Jamie are wondering if they could play with your pup," she said.

"Of course!" Esme said. "Angua is very friendly. Let's take her over there so she can run around and don't bother the people dancing, OK?" She half-rose from her seat and motioned to the kids, but Billy gently pushed her back down.

"I'll go with them," he said. "You sit and rest."

Nodding gratefully at him, she watched as Billy led Angua and the kids to a corner of the garden, where he started throwing a ball for the dog to catch, making the kids shriek with delight. Esme smiled to herself. For all his shyness, Billy always had a way with animals and kids, a natural, almost childlike openness that made them feel at ease around him.

"So, when are you two going to get married?" Roisin's question pulled her back to reality. Esme looked over. Roisin and Sybil were smiling at her like two cats that got the cream.

"We're not," Esme said automatically, then remembered to add, "Yet."

"What are you waiting for?" Sybil said. "He worships you, and you adore him. It's sickening to watch, really." Esme gave her sister a playful slap on the shoulder, like she used to when they were little, and Sybil grinned. "And he'll be a great dad."

Esme's embarrassed laugh died halfway to her lips. Suddenly the sky lost its brilliance and the laughter and all the joyful sounds of the wedding faded. A strange coldness spread across her chest. She realized there was something else she and Billy had never discussed, something much more fundamental and perhaps even more important than marriage—the question of having kids.

In all her previous relationships, regardless of how serious they were, Esme had always been careful to bring up the discussion about kids early on. With Billy, between her anxiety about his condition and the drama surrounding Jimmy's return, it had completely slipped her mind.

No, that wasn't quite true. It had occurred to her once or twice to ask him about it, but like the question of marriage, Esme didn't want to make it seem like she was rushing Billy or pressuring him, so she just shrugged it off. Besides, he had never expressed an interest in having kids. She had always assumed that he didn't want them. But now, watching him play with Daphne and little Jamie, she was no longer so sure. And it frightened her. It frightened her terribly.

Because she didn't want kids. She had spent most of her childhood taking care of her siblings while their parents were busy with their latest creative projects, and it had soured the whole idea for her. Oh, sure, she liked kids. Her friend Priya had three and Esme could always be counted on to babysit them, but it was always a relief to be able to hand them back at the end of the day.

Looking at Sybil's teasing smile now, Esme realized her younger sister had no idea about any of this, despite the two of them being the closest in the family. Esme had never told any of her siblings that she didn't want kids. She didn't want them to think that she resented them.

Flustered, she muttered something about making sure Billy didn't let Angua run into Mum's delphinium, and got up. By the time she reached Billy, Angua had tired herself out and was laying on her belly, panting, and the kids had wandered off. "Fancy a dance?" she asked, and Billy looked up at her with a smile. At the sight of that smile, Esme breathed a little more easily.

They didn't move to the dance floor. They remained at the corner of the garden, amongst the delphinium and hollyhocks, and Billy held her while they swayed slowly to the music.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I'm fine, just tired."

"Here." He pulled her a little closer, and she put her head on his shoulder with a comforted sigh.

"How about you?" she asked. "This isn't too much for you, is it?"

"No, no. I'm all right as long as you're here with me."

Standing there in his arms, with the music barely audible, only serving as a backing track to the peaceful chorus of a summer garden, of birds and insects, Esme suddenly felt rather silly about all her worries. She knew Billy, and he knew her. Perhaps she was getting worked up over nothing after all.

But what Billy said next shattered that illusion. "Besides, I don't mind people so much now," he said. "Actually, I've always wanted a big family."

Her head snapped up. "Have you really?"

"Well, you know how it was, when I was a kid..." Billy's voice trailed off uncomfortably.

Yes, she knew. Billy's mum died when he was two. His dad was alcoholic and violent. His brother, Jimmy, older by ten years, was cut from the same cloth. The Chiswells, who employed Billy's dad and on whose estate they lived, were dysfunctional in their own way and had been partly responsible for the worst memory of Billy's childhood, perhaps even of his life. Yes, with such a childhood, Esme could understand why Billy would want a big family, something to give him the sense of kinship and belonging that had been sorely lacking in his life.

And with that understanding came a horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Billy must have noticed how she'd gone quiet and stiff, because he leaned down, brushing his lips over her hair. "Esme?"

"So does that mean you want kids?" she blurted out.

He went quiet as well, contemplating the question. A part of her was dying to look at him, to gauge his reaction, but another part was terrified of what she may find there. On the grass next to them, Angua turned over with a sleepy whine.

Then Esme felt Billy shrug. "I don't mind them," he said.

The sinking feeling became an abyss, and Esme fell into it, falling without anything to hold on to, without knowing where the abyss would end. The music and the chorus of birds and insects stopped. Billy was saying something to her, but she didn't hear him. All she heard was that he wanted a family, and she couldn't—no, even worse, wouldn't give it to him.

She couldn't deal with this right now. Her head was crowded with nasty thoughts of not good enough and he deserves better. All the fears from her last breakup came flooding back. Dropping Billy's hands, she staggered into the house, mumbling some lame excuse about checking on the caterers and ignoring his confused look.

He wanted kids. How could she have been so stupid, so thoughtless? Now she had wasted two years of their lives, all because she neglected to have a conversation.

But if you knew earlier, she asked herself, would you still be able to give him up?

No! her heart, her foolish, cowardly heart, cried out.

That's just selfish.

Once before, when Billy checked himself into the hospital, he'd wanted to give their relationship a break, saying it wouldn't be fair to her. Was she going to have to do the same for him now?

She took refuge in her old bedroom. Being the eldest, she'd had the privilege of having her own room, though after she moved out, her mum had turned it into her study and few traces of Esme's childhood remained. Not that there was much to remain in the first place. Esme had always preferred a nice, clean room, not a book out of place, not a wrinkle on the bed sheet, and she'd taken everything with her when she moved. Now, sitting down in a sagging armchair by her mum's desk, Esme was surprised to discover Mum had kept all the awards and trophies she'd won in school, including a sad participation trophy for lacrosse in year six—Esme had hated playing; she couldn't imagine why Mum would keep that. Still, a little smile crept around her lips when she looked over the row of trophies on the shelf. Her parents may be feckless and infuriating at times, but they still cared.

Would it be so bad? Would it be so bad to compromise, have a kid, make Billy happy? She was sure she could be a good mum, if—

No. If staying with Billy was unfair to him, then having a kid would be unfair to all of them. She knew what it was like, growing up feeling like an outsider in her own family, feeling like she was not wanted. Children knew these things. She would never put a kid through that.

Just get out of your head and talk to him!

Esme pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and sighed. She couldn't avoid this. She would have to talk to Billy and live with the outcome, whatever that may be.

***

But Esme didn't find the courage to talk to Billy until a few days after the wedding. She knew he'd noticed something was off but was waiting for her to break the silence first. His consideration only drove the hot needles of guilt deeper inside her. At night, whenever she looked over at Billy, at his face so young and relaxed in sleep, yet the hair falling across his forehead already had a streak of silver in it, those needles would scorch her insides, making her want to cry and tell him to stop wasting his time with her and find someone that could give him the family he wanted. She didn't want him to stay with her only because he thought he wasn't good enough for anyone else.

That day, Esme didn't have the night shift at the clinic and came home in the evening to find Billy already seated at his table, whittling something. They still lived in her tiny two-room flat because it was close to both the vet clinic where she worked and Billy's studio, but their dream was to find a bigger place, preferably somewhere with a garden so Angua could run around and Billy could set up a shed for his woodcarving. Right now, he had to make do with a table in a sunlit corner in their living room, so he only bought home the smallest pieces or his personal projects, little spoons or jewelry like pendants and brooches, carved out of wind-fallen branches he found during their walks.

"You're home early," she said, taking off her bike helmet and leaning down to rub Angua between the ears.

Billy got up and gave her a peck on the lips. "We finished that monstrous Chippendale-knockoff cabinet today, so Jacob told us to have an early night." Jacob, Billy's mentor and boss at the studio, was one of the few positive influences in Billy's life before Esme met him. "What'd you fancy for tea?"

As she watched him move into the kitchen, Esme realized this was it. She had to talk to him now, before her courage failed her or life got in the way and she found another excuse.

"Let's hold tea off for a bit," she said. "There's something I'd like to talk to you about."

Billy sat back down, his big brown eyes turning serious. "I thought you would," he said. "It's about what I said at the wedding, isn't it? About wanting kids?"

A bewildering mixture of relief and dread coursed through Esme—relief because he knew her so well and had taken the difficult task of starting the conversation for her, and dread because the conversation was started so quickly, giving her no time to gather her thoughts. She could only sit down in front of him and nod.

"I know it was kind of sudden," Billy began, "but I mean what I said—"

"You mean you do want kids?"

"I never really thought about it," he said. "Never been with anyone where I had to," he added, taking Esme's hands, "until I met you. Just—you know, the idea of a mini version of you running around—how could I not want that?"

Esme's heart twisted when she thought that she was the one that made him want kids and that he wanted to have kids with her because he loved her so much, yet she—fool, stupid fool! Billy stared at her, probably wondering why she was looking so stricken.

Then it dawned on him.

"You don't want kids," he said. It wasn't a question, not really.

Esme shook her head. "No."

"Is it—is it because of my condition?"

If Esme's heart had been twisting before, then it broke now to see the sad look in Billy's eyes. "No, no, no," she said quickly, putting her hands over his. "No, it's not you. It's just—I've never wanted kids. With anyone. I've spent my entire childhood taking care of Sybil and Sam and Tiff, and that's enough for me."

"But—you'll be a wonderful mum."

For some reason, that raised her hackles. People always say that to women, don't they? But you'll be a great mother. You just haven't met the right person. Biological clock is ticking. You'll change your mind later. On and on and on. To hear it from Billy's mouth felt like the ultimate betrayal. "You mean I should have kids, lest I squander my precious potential, is that it?" she bit out, jerking away from Billy's grasp.

Billy seemed to realize he'd said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He reached for her across the table, then thought better of it and dropped his hand again. "And I should've been clearer about the whole kids thing. I only said that because I thought you wanted kids! I don't mind having kids, but I don't mind not having them either." Now he did reach for her and squeezed her hand again. "You're so much more important to me than having kids. Really. Besides, with my genes, I probably shouldn't have kids anyway."

He tried to joke, but every word was another needle in her heart, another painful reminder that she wasn't enough, that she couldn't make him happy.

"We could've adopted," she said.

"But that's not the point, is it?" Billy said, exasperated. "It's not that you don't want to get pregnant, the point is that you don't want kids!"

"Yeah, that's the point," she agreed, her voice muted. "So perhaps you should find someone else. Someone who does want kids."

Billy jumped to his feet. "What the hell are you saying?!"

"This is a deal breaker, Billy," she said. "This kind of incompatibility—there's no going back from it. You either want kids or you don't. There's no in-between."

"Who says there's any incompatibility here? I told you, I don't care about having kids. Why do you have to change your mind and not me? Why is it always you that has to sacrifice?"

"I don't under—"

Billy was getting worked up now, picking up his tools and throwing them down again, his hand flying to his nose and chest in an agitated manner that Esme knew well. She wanted to calm him down, but it was too late. "Is it because I've had it worse?" he said. "Because I've been through more? I thought we'd agreed not to think like that."

Esme was stunned. She'd never considered it that way. "It's not—I don't—" she stammered, trying in vain to keep her voice steady. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy! With you! What can I do to convince you?"

A tiny hope bloomed in Esme's chest, making her heart beat wildly behind her ribcage like a frantic bird. She fought to keep it down, trying to stay rational, practical. "What if you regret it later?" she asked.

"I won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Well, how can you be so sure that I will regret anything?"

She didn't have an answer for that. Seeing her relenting look, Billy softened as well. He drew her into his arms and tucked her under his chin. "I know you're worried about me," he said, "but don't be. Why would I want a mini version of you when I already have you?" Esme let out a choked laugh, and he laughed softly as well. "You're my family, Esme. I don't need anyone else."

Esme nestled her head against his chest and allowed herself to believe, for a moment, that she was enough. But she couldn't shake the feeling that Billy was just saying all that to placate her. She knew that the nasty, nagging voice in her head had not been shut down completely, only quieted. If only she knew how to silence it for good...

Chapter 2

I know the consensus is for daily chapters, but I want to give everybody a chance to read this chapter first before I post the others. Don't worry, Chapter 2 and the epilogue are coming soon!

[esta-elavaris]

Flufftober Day 10: Playing With Hair - James Norrington/OC [2,510 words]

* this prompt comes from an alternative list I found, and isn't for one of the official Flufftober prompts.

This one is disgustingly sweet. I don't even know what else to say.

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here, and my behemoth of a main fic about these two is here 💜✨

Their first Christmas together in their new home was quiet, understated, and just the two of them. Recalling their wedding ‘feast’ of bread and cheese, in nightclothes on the floor before the hearth, as well as their ‘courting’ around campfires on Tortuga’s beaches, just the two of them removed from the din of the settlement. Theo wondered fondly if this wasn’t their tradition. There had been offers from well-meaning neighbours, of course, all of whom seemed to find it absolutely devastating that they wouldn’t be spending Christmas day surrounded by countless family members – with James’ parents being deceased, and Theo’s family (the blood kind and the found kind both) being back in Ireland, but they’d politely – but firmly – turned them down.

One had come from a couple who compensated for their dislike of one another by having endless droves of children. That fact didn’t cover the dislike much, because they felt the need to make everybody around them painfully aware of it thanks to their constant ‘jokes’ at the expense of one another. The other, an older couple, did like one another…but nobody else. The wife made constant comments at Theo’s expense – of how she was too skinny, how a lack of womanly curves would fail to keep her husband’s attention overly long, quickly followed by warnings that she shouldn’t leap too far in the other direction, either, the moment she saw her take a bite of, well, anything. James reported that the husband was much the same with him, fond of endless grumblings of how men today hardly knew a thing – insisting that success was found thanks to luck, by most these days, rather than shrewdness.

They were all good enough people, at heart, but accepting their invitations would make their first Christmas here – their first proper Christmas together, one that would set the benchmark for the dozens upon dozens of others that would hopefully follow here in due course – a matter of grinning and bearing it, rather than enjoyment. They’d be much happier simply together, without worrying about eyes or opinions or anything beyond the four walls around them, and only them.

If they didn’t look out, they were going to become right little unsociable recluses. But, for now, it was bliss.

Having not yet hired a cook, and not being in much of a rush to do so, their Christmas dinner was an act of improvisation. They’d gone ice fishing first thing in the morning, and roasted their spoils along with generous helpings of vegetables above a fire they built in the great massive hearth that their stony kitchen boasted. Dessert was trickier, but Theo remembered most of what went into making her nan’s famous no-bake cheesecake, had cobbled it together the night before, and left it buried (and tightly sealed) under heaps of snow.

The result ended up being surprisingly good. Once it thawed out a bit.

Rather than standing on ceremony, she and her husband ended up absconding to the sitting room, curled together on their new sofa under heaps of blankets, the entire cake on Theo’s lap, and Theo in James’ lap, eating spoonfuls of the edges as each new section became a bit less solid. As they did, they chatted about this and that between moments in which they turned their attention to the house around them as though checking that it was still there, and still real.

The most important bits had been done. The pressing repairs, and the walls and roofing of the extensions they’d seen fit to add all now in place. There were no longer any leaks, nor structurally unsound patches of floor, and minimal drafts. It was a bit empty, but time would take care of that, and neither of them were in a rush. What was the point, when they’d already reached the destination they’d been racing towards ever since falling for one another? 

What remained of the cake was eventually set aside on the coffee table - perhaps their most decorative piece of furniture so far, and something Theo had to design and commission herself from a very confused carpenter, because apparently they weren’t a thing just yet – and they soon lay reclined on the sofa, James on his back and Theo all but atop him.

“May I?” he asked quietly, his fingers finding the ribbon keeping her hair bound back in a plait behind her.

She hummed her assent, sighing contentedly as he undid the ribbon and then began coming out her hair with his fingers until it fanned around her and she looked like some very decadent, very opium-ed up woman from a painting. Although, given that none of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood had been born yet, she was a bit early for that trend.

“Return the favour?” she asked once he was satisfied, looking at her with a level of admiration that never failed to make her cheeks match her hair.

James smiled a little, turning his head so she could take the tie from his own hair, although she struggled with the angle as she combed it down and freed it from its confines with her fingers.

“This reminds me of Tortuga,” he murmured as she did so.

“Who would’ve ever thought you’d speak of Tortuga fondly?”

“I speak of you fondly, in spite of the setting in which the memories take place,” his hand smoothed up and down her back as he regarded her, more bashful than he probably liked to betray at her open admiration of him, dark hair down about his shoulders. “You are a strange woman.”

“You’re not the first to say that.”

“You prefer me bearded, hair unkempt, clothes in disarray,” she wasn’t the first to think that, either. “I’m beginning to sense the approach of a day where you ban clothing outright-”

“Not a bad idea. Once the weather heats up a bit.”

“-and expect us to live in the wilderness, positively feral.”

“That was what I was really doing in Port Royal’s jungles – priming you for the idea, so that when this day came you’d be more inclined to go with it.”

“My wife is a schemer, you’re telling me?”

“No, I’m just a dog chasing cars.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Her ability to keep her own silly references to herself waned when she’d been at the wine. Unhelped by the fact that she never really tried to keep them to herself anymore, either. Not with him. Although she suspected none would believe her if she told them he found it funny.

“Well, when the day comes and we forsake clothing for good, there is one thing I would rather like you to wear.”

“A smile?”

He chuckled – something she felt, from where she was pressed against his chest, more than she heard. Then, with the hand not still tangled in her hair, he dug into the pocket of his breeches and pulled forth something she could not see, thanks to how her body shielded it from any of the light the hearth and the candles dotted about the room offered.

Theo sat up and he followed her, his hand soon cast in golden light. A necklace dangled from his long fingers – a damn fine necklace, too, a gold chain bearing a gold pendant, around an inch in diameter, in the shape of a compass rose. The edges were round, smooth, and a warm brilliant shade of gold, but the compass-star shape that it bore was made up of deep, vivid green emeralds set into the pendant.

“I knew it would suit you perfectly, the moment I saw it,” he spoke – still watching her reaction carefully. “Not that I know much of jewellery. You still touch the space where your other one, the silver one from your homeland, used to sit. I don’t know whether you noticed. I thought I might…well, not replace it, but offer something else.”

She hadn’t – noticed, that was. But she wasn’t surprised that he had. Not much ever escaped his notice.

“It’s…it’s beautiful, James, I can’t believe…”

They’d already exchanged gifts earlier in the day. First thing in the morning, in fact. She’d gifted him a state-of-the-art (by today’s standards, anyway) rifle that he’d openly admired in town before setting it down to turn his mind to more practical matters, like home-building and things that might benefit them both. Selfless bastard.

Although her gift to him made her laugh when she opened the box that housed what he had gotten her. A finely carved and polished recurve bow, along with a gorgeous leather quiver full of arrows, for she’d expressed an interest in learning archery. James had shared her amusement – given how they’d traded weapons over the breakfast table, anybody might think they were preparing for another war. Not the stereotypical sort of romantic newlyweds. Relatively newlyweds, she supposed. But given that this was still the first of the time they’d been able to spend together, live together, under circumstances that weren’t strange, fantastical, and downright deadly, everything still felt marvellously new.

Still, she couldn’t protest that he’d already given her a gift…because she had another stashed for him beneath the sofa they sat on now, so they – as was becoming their habit – had proven to be of one mind.

“It’s too much,” she said doubtfully. “I can’t get over it.”

She wasn’t sure she’d ever been so amazed at a piece of jewellery. It looked like something that belonged on an elf in a fantasy movie, and he gave her it because it reminded him of her. Holding it up to the light of the hearth, she watched as the firelight caught the emeralds.

“Nonsense. It’s not enough. I mean to shower you in jewels by the time we’re old and grey. Tis my duty as your husband, is it not?”

Handing it back to him, she reached behind her and bundled her hair up into her hands, and he understood immediately, moving so he could loop the necklace about her throat, his breath warm against the back of her neck as he fixed it in place.

When he did, she let her hair fall back down again and turned. “Well?”

“Just as I thought,” he said fondly, his features soft as he regarded her.

“I love it,” she said – her hand coming up to trace across the jewels. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Theodora. I meant what I said.”

She flushed, but covered it by leaning forward and reaching beneath the sofa, pulling out a gift wrapped in brown paper and wrapped in ribbon.

“And now you can’t get annoyed with me for getting you a second gift, too,” she teased. “Fools seldom differ, eh?”

“I prefer great minds think alike, myself,” he snorted, accepting the gift.

He unwrapped it slowly, by which point her heart had travelled upwards within her chest until it felt like it was rattling beneath her gorgeous new necklace. Finally, a bundle of white fabric was revealed – soft to the touch, and accented here and there by painstakingly placed dark blue stitches. She hesitated to call it embroidery, for that was far too grand a term for what she’d achieved.

“A shirt?” he asked as though checking he was correct – perhaps because she was so visibly nervous.

“I made it,” she explained quietly, hands twisting together in her lap. “I know I’m not very good at the, erm, wife-ing…”

Opening his mouth immediately to protest, James was silenced when she took his hand.

“In the sense of the word today, I’m not the conventional sort of wife,” she amended. “So I wanted to at least try my hand at some of it. For you. The whole my husband is my lord and master thing will have to wait, though.”

“I look forward to it,” he said drily, inspecting the shirt. “This is fine work, Theodora. Fine work. Surely this was not your first attempt?”

“Oh, definitely not. I lost count of how many I made before I was happy with that one. All of the attempts that preceded it went to the poor…which was really adding insult to injury, I think, but Mrs Wright insisted they wouldn’t mind.”

She’d wanted it to be good, damn it. Wanted to give him something she was proud to have made, and that he’d be proud to wear, rather than doing so out of love for her – the way an indulgent grown-up might put a kid’s terrible artwork up on the wall. Thankfully, she seemed to have achieved her end, so the hours painstakingly stitching pleats into the cuffs and laces into the collar had paid off.

"I have to confess to one slight trademark," she added, taking up the shirt and turning the cuff of the right sleeve inside out.

Pressing up from underneath the fabric, she exposed the stitching there – revealing three stitches of thread that wouldn’t be noticeable unless someone specifically went looking. One green, one white, and one orange.

“Like your shoulder,” he chuckled. “I will wear it proudly. It’ll have to be wrestled off of me so that it might be washed.”

She grinned, tucking her hair behind her ear and feeling very pleased with herself as her nerves dissipated – for he meant it. Not the bit about refusing to wear clean clothes, of course, but he was visibly pleased with it, and not in a way that was just humouring her.

“See? Now we’ll be one of those disgusting couples who match. I stole one of your shirts to help with the measurements.”

“You’ve a habit of stealing my clothing,” he chuckled. “Although the cause was a much safer one, this time.”

He could tell that to her hands, which had been stabbed by needles more times than she could now count.

“Well, help yourself to my skirts anytime. Might be a wee bit short on you, though.”

Chuckling, he set the shirt aside but there was a thoughtfulness to his gaze that made her wonder – and then he pulled her closer, the back of his index finger trailing down the side of her face.

“I care not – about the conventional wife matter. You know that, don’t you? We discussed it in London, and I thought the matter closed, but if it still weighs on you, it should not.”

“It doesn’t,” she said, and she spoke truthfully.

“Good. I don’t wish for a wife, Theodora. Only you. And you are a perfect wife. My perfect wife.”

He’d said words to that effect on their wedding night, and they still hadn’t lost their lustre.

“And I don’t care about the hair – or the beard, or whatever the hell you wear. However I might joke."

"Even when I'm surly, tired, and exasperatingly English?"

"Especially then. Get yourself another one of those abominable wigs, weld it to your head, and you’d still drive me mad. You should know that. I prefer you however you are. Whenever you are. Always.”

Judging by the dangerous glint his eyes adopted, if he had not known it beforehand (doubtful), he did now. He soon got his Christmas wish of seeing her in nothing but her beautiful new necklace.

And a smile.

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

[talesfromtheenchantedforest]

Isoldes (of Ireland), ranked

5. Gottfried von Strassburg. 0/10, a real bottom-of-the-barrel Isolde. All of her compelling qualities are ported onto other characters so that she can embody the empty shell of idealized femininity: she doesn’t have the medical skill to heal Tristan, her mother does; she doesn’t have any political savvy, Brangien does. Insipid, limp, fickle, boring. Also, and this isn’t strictly related to her, but it is emphasized that she HATES Tristan prior to the potion, and I vastly prefer the versions where they develop a real friendship before the potion turns them into lust-drunk maniacs.

4. Eilhart von Oberge 4/10, a mixed bag. You see where Gottfried got some of his Isolde’s worst characteristics — the pettiness, the fickleness, both when Tristan does something extremely minor like not halting for her sake, and the awful post-wedding-night trying to murder Brangien thing. But she also keeps many of her fun qualities — her medical skill, her deductive reasoning (the detective work to figure out that the Lord High Steward didn’t kill the dragon! Finding Tristan by tracking down his non-Irish horseshoes!). You tried, Eilhart, but you didn’t try hard enough.

3. The Prose Tristan. 7/10, this Isolde is really cooking with gas. She’s giving Tristan a run for his money in the writing-emo-songs department, which sounds honestly insufferable for everyone around them but they seem happy, so like good for them. When called out by Mark gives him a real “yeah, I AM in love with Tristan, and I sure hate you, the fuck are you gonna do about it,” which we love for her. Points docked for attempted Brangien murder, however.

2. Le Morte D’Arthur. 9/10, the Isolde that first made me not normal about Arthuriana. She’s willing to do anything to save Brangien. She holds a castle against Palamedes while he lies down outside the gates and mopes. She writes heartfelt letters to Guenevere. She has a very sweet relationship with Dinadan and lets him pour out his heart about how much he hates love.

1. Béroul 10/10 no notes. Ten steps ahead of Mark at every turn and hilarious about it. Engineering the scenario wherein she will be able to swear honestly that no man ever been between her thighs except Mark and “the leper who made himself a beast of burden and carried me across the ford, and my husband King Mark” by ordering Tristan, in the guise of a beggar, to get down on his knees and “turn your face away and your back toward me, and I will straddle you like a man,” in case we were in any doubt about what they get up to in bed. An icon. A legend. The greatest tragedy of the Arthurian manuscript tradition is that we only have fragments of this one.

[georgiapeach30513]

Headcanon for your top 5 chris characters:

1 honeymoon per character - what country do you travel to and where do your naughty activities take place?

Oh!! I love this...my top 5, and in order

here's the thing with Andy, I believe you're going to be pregnant before you get married. So you're not going out of the country. He's a Newton, MA man, so he's going to take you out, but it'll be in driving distance, because you are pregnant. He'd drive the two of you to a remote Air BNB. Talk about the snuggles, and sweet love. Andy is going to PAMPER you. You're pregnant after all. Not to say that Andy is vanilla, but you are limited. But I just think his favorite thing is spoiling you, and talking to the belly.

My sweet pretty baby boy!! Ransom worships you! He has looked for love, and you were the first one to give it to him, and he is so thankful. He is going to spoil you. Where do you want to go? He's taking you. I also think he would be in love with a destination wedding, and forget to tell his family, minus Harlan. He's allowed to go. Ransom does not strike me as a tropical kind of guy. I can see a little tromp through Europe. Paris? England? Ireland? You name it. He'll take you.

Uhh...Ransom has some special needs when it comes to the bedroom. I think he can be dominate, yes, but I also feel he has this tendency to need his own pampering. I think that he may need to be babied. Reminded how special and amazing he is. Hold him and rock him. Baby that man. And because you do that for him, he is going to treat you like his little slut. He's rough and demanding.

Are you the bread winner? Frank seems to struggle with cash flow. So...you're staying local. He lives in St. Petersburg, so that's fine. Most the money is going for a bigger house. Mary needs an actual room instead of a cubby hole.

I think Frank would actually talk to one of his customers for the use of a boat. He has this potential to be the sweetest and most romantic, but he's simple. I also think that he is eventually going to go back to teaching. Especially with some support from you. But just floating the ocean with Frank is enough. Gazing at the stars late at night. Now Frank...I do think he's a bit vanilla. But I think after marriage that breeding kink goes WAY up. Wouldn't be surprised if you get a wittle Frankie.

LAVISH AND EXTRAVAGANT! You think Ransom is going to spoil you? Nay, Lloyd is going to have you dripping in diamonds. He is going to take you around the world. Flying private jets. You may have to take a break for him to work, but don't worry. He'll come back to destroy you later.

Lloyd likes pretty things, and he likes his pet. You will be used. It doesn't matter what you want. It's what Lloyd wants. He is going to have your face mashed into the mattress, and have you begging and sobbing that you can't take anymore. He's going to prove that you can. And he's going to make sure that his bodyguards hear just how weak he makes you.

Look at this complete ANGEL! Okay this one is taking you somewhere with lots of snow, and cold, and no sweat, heat, or humidity. He's done the tropical thing for too long. He won't be doing it with you. He also likes to have fun. Except a dog sledding excursion, sledding, skiing, snowboarding, whatever. Cute little nose kisses in the snow, building a snowman...ugh, he's cute!!

Jake is a switch. So don't expect everything to be one sided. He's going to need you to overpower him. And he is going to BEG for it. He'll be your sweet little puppy.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dream - Chapter Twenty Five.

Double update time today, besties! I kind of want to get the posting of this done with so I can have a break, also from noticing interest beginning to wane slightly. I totally get it, people are busy (I bloody know I am right now!) and we all have lives to lead outside of the fandom. But yeah, I guess that’s my fault in that it makes my insecurity rear its ugly head, making me question myself when I notice people quietening. I’m not seeking any empathy or anything like that, I’m just speaking from a place of honesty.

I know I need to improve, and I will. I’ll be taking a break from longer stories after this one to go away and do just that. @withmyteeth​ gave me some truly superb advice on where I needed to improve, so I’ve been taking that on board with writing. I’m feeling positive I’ll be able to come back better. 

Thanks to those of you who continue to engage, though. You’re very sweet and I appreciate you. You’re the ones I want to do better for, not just for myself! 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 2,380

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“What?”  

She truly hadn’t expected the decibels of his reply, especially not since he’d done so well in her being away for three months, but Keri’s revelation that she would only be home for eleven days before jetting off to Ireland for Luke’s sister’s wedding, well, it didn’t go down well with Angel. “You’ve only just got home!”

“Baby, I know, but it won’t be for long. Five days includes travel time,” she began, leaning back against the units in the kitchen. “I leave on Wednesday, Saoirse's wedding is on the Saturday, and I’ll be home the following Monday. It really isn’t a big thing.”

“But you only just arrived back, and now you want to go away again?”  

Oh, god. “I thought we’d dealt with this, Angel.” Her attempt to placate him was met with hostility, Angel throwing himself out of the chair at the kitchen table, stomping towards the door. “Come on, you’re being silly now. You always knew I’d travel with my work.”

“You’ll be with him again.”

Her brows furrowed. “Him?”  

“Yeah!” he yelled, pulling his phone out as he stuffed his feet into his boots. “This asshole!” Turning the screen of his phone, he showed her a picture she’d uploaded to her Instagram, a selfie she’d taken with Dolores, Roisin and Luke, three members of the band, Roisin and Luke kissing a cheek each, Dolores crouched beneath her chin, winking while bobbing her tongue out at the camera.

Keri couldn’t believe her ears. “You seriously have an issue with Luke? Roisin is kissing me, too, but you’re strangely quiet about her being an asshole! Then again, she doesn’t have a dick, does she?”

He was quiet then, reloading his retort, but Keri gave him no chance. His girlfriend was a mild-mannered sweetheart, but boy, if somebody put a match near her gas tank... Boom. Especially if they were casting aspersions. “Do you really think you have anything to worry about? Angel, we’re been together for eight months now, you know who I am. Do you really have me pegged as a cheater, or are you looking for an excuse to blow up just because you don’t want me going away again so soon?”

“I trust you, not him.”  

This wasn’t anything to do with Luke, and she knew it. This was his abandonment issue, rearing its ugly head, Keri realised, reaching for him. He pulled from her, though. “I gotta get to the yard.”

She shook her head in confusion. “You told me you had the day off?”

“Yeah? And you told me I mattered. Not enough for you to stick around long.” The slam of the door behind him vibrated the frame, Keri sighing, considering going after him. He likely needed to cool off, so she left it. In leaving it, though, she felt the agitation pouring through her veins, deciding to do something about it. Angel wasn’t a messy guy, but still, his house got the once over, everywhere smelling of polish, cleaning spray and fabric freshener once she was done, looking over at her suitcase.  

Clean clothes were a must.  

The laundromat was two blocks away from the weed shop, so with all of her dirty clothing items set on a hot wash, Keri trudged down in search of a friendly face, taking coffee and some doughnuts with her, too. She was greeted by all the warmth she needed, Sharise shrieking in surprise, rushing out behind the counter. She only just about had chance to place the items she carried down before receiving her beautiful friend in her arms, the girls embracing tightly.  

“I missed you so much!” she cried, holding Keri’s face in her hands, kissing her cheek.  

“I missed you too, lady,” she replied with warmth, rocking her in her arms, kissing her head as she pointed to the coffee and doughnuts. “Break time?”

“Let me just get these guys sorted and I’ll be right with you.” A half ounce of blueberry kush and an eighth of AK-47 later, and Sharise was free to join Keri in the back room, seating themselves in the former’s small office.  

“So, how is it being back?”  

Keri finished her mouthful of doughnut before replying. “I’m currently fighting the jetlag, still being on Australian time means my body thinks it should be asleep right now, but I’m doing what everyone says is best and just trying to keep busy, power through it. And it was going really well, until this morning when I revealed to Angel that I’m going over to Ireland again in eleven days' time to photograph a wedding. He blew up at me massively. I thought we’d gotten past that, with how well he’d handled it while I was away in Australia.”

She went on to detail the ins and outs of their argument, Sharise listening intently before weighing in. She knew she had to walk a fine line, what with Angel being her family but Keri also becoming a close friend. A little confliction rooted within her, but sipping her coffee, she chose honesty in the end. “Listen, he did handle it well, I was proud of him, but his sheen wasn’t quite as bright without you here. He missed you, he’s so in love with you and all he could do was count down the days until you came back to him.  

“However, that doesn’t mean he was right to explode at you, or accuse that Luke guy of anything nefarious, but like you say, he only likely did it to try and legitimise his abandonment issues, and not want to bring it back to those again. I think you did the right thing in letting him go cool off, because he’ll know he’s been an ass, but he won’t want to immediately admit to that. You’re right, too. You can’t put your life on hold for his comfort levels, so he’s gotta deal with it.”

Keri nodded, slumping in her seat a little. “I thought he already had, and that’s what kicks me in the guts most about it. He doesn’t need to feel so threatened by me not being around. I wish he’d settle and realise that just because there’ll be times when I’m physically far, my heart is always with him.”

“See, that’s the thing with Angel. He isn’t used to having a girlfriend with that kind of lifestyle. I mean, if he and Lucy had gone the distance, it would have been the same. She’ll likely have to do book tours once her cookbook comes out, she’s very ambitious just like you are, but for Angel, he almost can’t separate that. I think it’s because his own life has been so firmly rooted in Santo Padre. He likes the idea of having someone who’s always there for him, and the idea of them not being so frightens him, brings up everything about his mom’s death,” she explained, Keri nodding deeply.

“I know, and I do feel bad now for yelling at him. Underneath the veneer of big, bad outlaw wolf, he’s a little wounded cub, and I want to make that better for him, but he has to help himself, too. He can’t just explode and think I’ll change my mind because he’s being difficult. I won’t. I love him, he’s the absolute love of my life, but I won’t put that life on hold just to make him feel more secure.”  

It was a tough situation to be in and Sharise sympathised, advising that she should at least try and talk to him again once he returned home later, but that ultimately, she was right. It was Angel’s issue to deal with, not hers. After Keri left to go and pile her laundry into the dryer, Sharise quietly thought to herself that her brother-in-law truly did need to sort out his mess there, because Keri wasn’t the kind of girl who would placate him forever if he continually threw distrust at her, no matter how much she loved him.  

While Keri was sitting at the laundromat awaiting her clothes to dry, she sat and contemplated much the same, a realisation hitting her. This truly was the obelisk, but god, how she hoped it wouldn’t be a fatal disagreement. The saddest part was, though, that she realised only too clearly if Angel couldn’t get his head straight with the idea of her being away from him, it likely would be. She couldn’t handle it, him berating her because of his own insecurity, especially if he was only prepared to overcome it for short periods, before reverting once more to entertaining what her being away stirred within him.

It filled her with nothing but dread, knowing that if this continued, she would have no choice but to walk away from him. It was a bitter pill to swallow, for she loved him with her entire heart, but she saw no choice if he didn’t want to get better, or let in room for healthy growth where his insecurities were concerned.  

Tears prickled her eyes, Keri wiping them quickly, not wanting to draw attention to herself at the instant heartbreak that trying to imagine a life without Angel in it had stirred, reaching for her phone, seriously contemplating for a few moments whether she should contact Luke and tell him she couldn’t make it. She stopped, though, realising that if she did, Angel would know that an outburst would be all it took in the future in order for her to toe the line for the sake of his comfort.  

No matter how much she loved him and wanted to ease his insecurity, she couldn’t do that.  

She wouldn’t do that.  

He was a grown man of thirty-six, her a young woman of twenty-three. He needed to be the one who did better, without her placating him. After her clothes were dry, she loaded up the huge IKEA bag she’d bundled them into, heading home and ironing everything, placing them away in the wardrobe and drawers before fixing herself a late lunch. As much as she tried to stay awake, putting on a Netflix documentary she’d been waiting to have the time to sit down and enjoy in full, she ended up asleep on the sofa, not waking until 9pm.  

Angel still wasn’t home.  

Calling him, the phone rang out, so she sent him a message, asking when he’d be home. By eleven thirty, she could see he’d read it, but hadn’t replied. She tried calling again, the call being cut dead this time after three rings. So, he knew very well she wanted to talk to him, but this was how he was going to deal with it.  

‘Angel, please come home, or call me. We need to talk about this. Love you xx’ The message was read within minutes, but by 1am, he still had neither returned to her or replied.

“Well, this is on you if you’re choosing to behave this way.” The next thing she did was to call up her browser and book a ticket to Utah for the following day. If he wasn’t going to even try with her, then she’d just leave him to it for a while, go and spend some time with the people who she’d missed just as much as she had him, give him time to figure it all out. She didn’t want to spend any further time away, but the fact that she lay alone in bed all night without him returning didn’t give her a lot of options.  

It was 6am when he finally returned, looking worse for wear, his eyes violet with tiredness, his face sour. Especially when he saw her suitcase packed again by the front door. Hurt flashed his eyes as he turned to view her sitting on the couch while he pointed at the luggage. “Where you going?”

“Home,” she replied simply. “If your idea of us fixing this issue is to ignore me and stay out all night, then I’m not gonna stick around to be treated like that. You obviously want some time away from me, Angel, so I’m going to give you that. I don’t want to, I’ve missed you so much and all I want is for us to talk about this, but I think you’ve made your feelings clear there.”

His face darkened, sliding his kutte off and hanging it up, shrugging. “Fine.” The word slipped from his mouth like a biting frost, glaring at her before he walked to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. She could have cried, but she didn’t, following him into the bedroom to retrieve her bag and cell. “Keri just fucking leave me alone.”

“So that’s it, huh? From your perspective, this is how you want to leave things between us?”

He turned to her, his glare fixed in place. “You’re the one doing the leaving.”  

She was staunch in her reply, sighing, closing her eyes tightly for a moment in an attempt to gather herself. “And you’re the one giving me no choice by refusing to talk about it. Angel, I love you so much, but I’m not going to put my life on hold just to make you feel comfortable. You’re a grown man. You really, really need to resolve this within yourself. Me leaving you isn’t me abandoning you. I’m always coming back, because you’re worth coming back to. Because I want to come back to you. If you can’t figure that out or accept it, then I don’t know where we go from here.”

“Apparently you go home.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed bitterly. “Apparently I do.”  

Picking up her bag and cell, she left, her flight not due to depart for three hours, feeling like she had no choice but to leave early. She didn’t want to, every fibre and bone of her being wanted to go and cuddle up to him for an hour before she had to leave, but she couldn’t. He didn’t want her to, much preferring to stew in his own ridiculous handling of the situation.  

The tears she’d successfully managed to hold onto in the house came as soon as she pulled off and drove down the street, wondering truly if that was it for them.  

She hoped to god that it wasn’t.