#and i was like wow this is a game changer i can eat this and my mom won't try to stop me lmaooo

[guinevereslancelot]

[suzieb-fit]

Hmm, just when I was starting to think I'd finally "cracked it" with the mucus solution. Yesterday was a really settled day. Still there throughout the day, but at a low level and no major flare ups.

Then this morning? Yep. Boom.... Back as bad as ever.

Ugh. Maybe that's how the detox works? Gradually eases with the occasional bad flare up, but less and less frequently til they die off altogether. Or am I just being delusional, lol?

Anyway, I'm weight training this morning. Upper body.

Woke up pretty tired, so started a little later.

Breakfast outside on a very dull, drizzly Monday morning before anything else.

I am all about fueling my body properly.

No more fasting. This is more technically "time restricted eating". Finishing eating sfter an early dinner, giving my digestive system a good break before breakfast.

I might occasionally go longer, but I night also occasionally go no longer than 12hrs.

My current training focus needs good quality feeding.

I took my usual half an hour walk straight after.

Upper body strength today. I hit those weights pretty hard.

Ended with a tuck jump sprint interval. Wow, total game changer!

Lunch was chicken salad with grapes and fake cheese. Coconut based. Actually pretty nice.

I decided to do something different for my afternoon fitness bout. Got on the rowing machine. Actually hate rowing, lol. Just feels like I'm on there for weeks! I put my earphones in and listened to a podcast. Made it slightly more tolerable.

Fresh fruit, walnuts, mixed seeds, ground coconut and a splash of olive oil after that.

Time to chill, now.

Today was a double chicken day. Had some for dinner too! Had that with avocado and veggies. Fresh ginger, herbs and spices.

I decided on an extra snack. Grapes and macadamia nuts.

Training hard and heavy has sent my "refeed" brain into overdrive!

And I might even make a second serving of my breakfast recipe tonight. Add some frozen blueberries.

That will add upto a whole lot of food, but meh, I can definitely add a few pounds without any worries. I'm lower than my normal maintenance goal right now.

Breakfast will be later tomorrow, so I'll also still get at least that 12hr digestive rest. No commitment either way. I'll just see how I feel later.

I feel fantastic at the moment. Yes, this morning's bad flare up knocked me sideways, but it was only maybe a couple of hours out of an otherwise excellent day!

[thecourtshrieker]

What are 5 things that make you happy? After you answer, pass the question to the last 10 people who rebloged your post. Let's spread positivity 🌻

Oh wow ask games are back on? Ok!

My cats. I love them SO MUCH it hurts sometimes. They're the best thing in my life

Eating stuff I like. Sometimes it just hits me like... Wow... The universe is vast and endless but there are peaches and chocolate and I'm alive to enjoy them?????? Amazing

Reading. I used to read A LOT until a couple of years ago, and I'm trying to get back into it. It's slow going, but it's been really nice to rediscover the feelings that come up when you realize that WOW THIS ONE. THIS IS A GOOD ONE OMG lmao

I've recently started to grow my nails and it feels amazing???? I always wanted to have claws, and while I could get acrylics/gel/etc it feels different seeing my own nails getting longer? They're not super out there yet and it's been an Adjustment going from "biting them until I bled" to "oh wow I can make clicking sounds on every surface!!!!". It's fun and stimmy and I'm really proud of myself for this one actually bc I used to bite them out of anxiety/self harm and I'm keeping at least that reaction in check so. Yay!

My bed. It's really good and sturdy and the mattress is super high quality bc I managed to save up enough to buy a REALLY good bed and wow... After a life sleeping on ok beds, I have to tell you, getting a good one is a game changer. My life is so much better. Even when I can't sleep it's still comfortable and safe and I'm just so grateful I made this decision two years ago, everything in my life might be falling apart but my bed is there for me, super comfy and warm and with great lumbar support - my heart can break but I'll never wake up with back pain again 😂

Extra: @fraeuleinfriedhof you!!! My dearest new moot, you have such nice vibes and seeing you in my dash and interacting with you has been lovely 🌹

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[puppetsoftomorrow]

rating all the songs on legends, part 2

basically s6 songs lmao. if i'm missing any let me know and i'll include them in part 3!!

merci beaucoup enchante - 100/10 - a Fucking bop. is there anything tala cant do?? makes me feel like i'm someone who wears big sunglasses in an airport. also cash flow like the river nile (queen queen queen) is just. so poppin

space girl - 99/10 - is it a crime to say this is my favourite bowie song?? anyway it's a Tune. i do like the lyric "i think i could have loved her" like my dude she Just told u she was abt to propose to her gf lmao. also 'gravity betrayed her' is a great line??

the real dragon girl - 10/10 - a Tune wow. i love this,, a gender defying ballad for the ages, truly a song we can all get behind. loses points bcos i would pay good money to hear tala sing this lol

peace train - 1000/10 - can i just say?? shayan is far too good for this shitshow lmao. he's got beautiful hair, a beautiful voice ... i love this song. a full album for behrad When

fist city / stapleton / the ballad of sara lance - 99/10 - some country Bops, following my three fave genres 1. we have a nice town 2. there is a big man in our town 3. someone has come to challenge the big man, and will 100% die. extra points for the lyric "then the worm will eat her"

astra's songs - 100/10 - wow olivia can sing?? this was a standout ep of the season, the animators need a fat raise asap. loses points bcos i wish it was longer / a full song honestly

ever fallen in love - 9/10 - an absolute Game Changer. this is the official version now. tala knocks it out of the park Yet Again,, and the moment john kneels in front of her playing the guitar?? i fell in love with hellstar right there... loses points bcos now i'm sad abt john...

happy trails legends - 10/10 - can we keep the cowboy narrator?? please?? i just love a decent guitar and harmonica tune. "it might be weird but so is the world" is such a funky line lol

[talesofstyles]

Reconcile II

Ok so I know that I wrote the first part with reader insert, but after many, many attempts to keep it that way, it just didn’t work with this one. So I’d like for you to meet Emma. This is my first time writing with OC and wow game changer. I love her and I hope you do too!

Also, I honestly can’t thank my beta queens enough @oh-honey-styles @for-fucks-sake-h 🥺💛 thanks for allll the comments and suggestions and nice words!!! ily both xx

Read part I here

Harry

“So… are we okay now?”

We’re sitting here on the sofa, finally having that very much needed father-daughter date. Granted, a movie night in was not what I had in mind. I wasn’t too thrilled when she said she wanted to just go back home after we dropped George at his classmate’s house for a birthday sleepover. I thought she would hole up in her room instead and ignore me. But she didn’t. I got us pizza for tea, and we’ve got Shrek 2 on the telly. Her animosity towards me disappeared just like that after she asked for a puppy the other day. Of course, I’m glad to have my happy-go-lucky daughter back, but deep down I know that we need to have a proper chat. The change in her behaviour is so abrupt that I know there’s a chance that my daughter is still bitter with me deep down. And that won’t do. I can take a lot of things, but my daughter’s resentment is not one of them.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” she nods as she takes a bite of her pizza. “You’re still getting me a puppy right?”

“I still need to talk to your mum about it, poppet,” I tell her. “Puppies need a lot of attention. It’s going to be hard work and that puppy is going to be a permanent member of our family. We’ve really got to think about it before we decide.”

I expect a little excitement knowing that her mum and I are really considering getting a puppy. But what I get is quite the opposite. My little girl’s gaze drops, her face slackening. Her voice cracks a little when she mumbles, “except… we’re not a family.”

I wince, realising how serious the effect our split has on my daughter. Despite Emma and I putting on a friendly, united front for our children, Minnie is still sad that her parents are not together. 

“Of course we’re still a family,” I assure her, pulling her to me for a comforting side hug. “I’m still your dad, mummy is still your mum, and you and George are still the lights of our lives.” 

“But you and mummy aren’t together anymore,” she points out bitterly. “And you live so far away from us now. I miss having you at home.”

“I know, my love,” I murmur gently, and turn sideways so she can see my face. “It’s killing me too. But you never know what the future holds, right?”

“I guess,” she says glumly.

I wish I can tell her that I’m trying to win her mum back so we can be together again, but I know I can’t do that. This is far too early. I don’t want to get her hopes up in case I’m not successful in convincing my wife to give me another shot. That’ll only break her heart all over again.

Thinking back, I realised that this is the first time we have a proper chat about our split. I fled to LA the next morning after my wife asked me to leave our marital home back in London, leaving her to sit down with our children to tell them that I was not going to live there anymore. I was shocked and angry because I had no idea what I’d done. I thought we were fine. There were no fights leading up to that. I still remember exactly what I told her. ‘You’re the one who wanted to end it, you tell them.’ And then I left.

Just like that. Without a fight.

I swear to God, it’s something that I would never be able to forgive myself. 

“How’s your mum?” 

“She’s sad,” Minnie sighs. “She cries a lot. She thinks we can’t hear her in the shower, but we can.”

Knowing I caused that physically hurts. I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone and I think about all those private tears I shed through it. The ones you hope are hidden and silent.

“Can I ask you something, daddy?”

“Anything, poppet.”

“Do you still get sad too?”

I’m not sure how much to divulge here. Does my daughter need to hear that I stopped eating? That I once cried in the loo at Cafe Habana, and once had to be fished out of a bath by Jeff after I turned into a human prune? I was sad. I still wear that hat. 

“I do. It’s the end of something, that’s always sad.”

“I think mum is dating someone,” she says and my eyes widen. “She told us Luke is her friend, but I think he’s her boyfriend. They’re on a date now, aren’t they?”

I can try and deny it, but I know my daughter is smart and won’t buy anything I tell her.

“What do you know about boyfriends?” I tease, my attempt to lighten up the mood. 

“I’ve just turned nine, I’m not stupid,” Minnie rolls her eyes. “‘Sides I’m thinking about getting one of those boyfriend thingies.”

I sit there slack-jawed, and my daughter roars with laughter.

“Minnie Alexandra, you’re going to drive me to an early grave, you know that?”

“Hey, what are you middle naming me for? I was joking!” She says, still laughing as she picks a piece of pepperoni off her pizza.

“How do you feel about your mum dating again?” I ask her.

She pauses. “I don’t know yet. As long as he’s nice and doesn’t put me under the stairs…”

“I’m sure he won’t. In the attic maybe,” I joke.

She laughs again. I’m thinking about keeping that bloke in the attic so my wife won’t date him anymore. Or even better, six feet under my patio. That’ll do.

“It’s gonna be okay, right, dad?”

Honestly, I’m not sure. But I don’t have the heart to tell her that.

“Yeah, Min. It’s gonna be okay.”

***

I see the headlight shining into the front windows as I walk down the stairs from tucking my daughter into her bed. That must be Emma and her date. I pull back the curtain a little to peek outside, and I’m right as I see that bollockface’s car in front of the house. 

You know that saying; curiosity killed the cat? Well, in my case, curiosity fucked me with a chainsaw. 

I’m a bloody idiot. I should have just closed the curtain back as soon as I recognised the car. I mean… it’s the end of a date. What did I expect to see? A high five? I knew I was so sure when they left that he would not be getting anything more than a friendly kiss, but that date must have gone really well, because right now, my eyes may as well fall out of their sockets as I see that bastard’s tongue down my wife’s throat. 

I’m frozen. I’m gripping the curtain so tight that my knuckles are turning white. I stand there—stunned. Watching. I’m not even sure for how long. It does feel like forever. Like an eternity. 

In hell.

And then Emma pulls back, and everything seems like a blur. I have to remind myself that my daughter is sleeping upstairs so I won’t go apeshit and knock that wanker square on his arse. 

I’m still glued to the floor by the door. I’m too shocked to move. I hear the sound of keys rattling before the door swings open, and she looks surprised when she sees me.

And all hell breaks loose.

“What the fuck, Emma?!” She jolts at hearing me shout. I rarely did it. In fact, I’m not even sure if I’d ever yell at my wife before throughout our marriage. “You told me last night you’d never even kissed him. You told me you weren’t ready.”

“I- I don’t know. He caught me off guard. That was-”

“I told you I wanted to make this work,” I remind her, trying to lower my voice so I won’t wake my daughter up. She doesn’t need to see this. “Us. Our marriage. I told you I wanted to fight for you. But I can’t do that with someone shoving their tongue down my wife’s throat, can I?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see her tear up and I immediately feel regret. That was harsh. But before I can apologise, I can see her lip curls up and I know she’s about to get nasty. It’s a rarity with her when we’ve fought in the past, but I feel it coming.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” She sneers. “You think that if you put a toy down, it’ll still be sitting there when you want to play with it again.”

“That’s-”

“You have no right to be upset at me. We’ve split up for nearly a year now. What I do and what I don’t do on my dates is none of your business.” 

“I want us to give our marriage another shot,” I say in exasperation. “I want to try to win you back, but fuck’s sake you’re not even giving me the time of day.”

“Oh, look how the tables turned,” she taunts. “Sucks, innit? Being the one struggling to find the time when it seems like the other doesn’t give a crap?”

“Cheap shot, Ems,” I retort.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, H?” 

Emma averts her eyes, her lower lip quivering. I can’t tell if she regrets her harsh words or not, but she doesn’t look back my way, and she seems to have said her piece.

I knew sooner or later this was bound to happen. We never had our big fight, not even that night when she decided that enough was enough.

“I cannot possibly go through that again. It physically hurts,” she says softly. “I know I was the one who ended it, but when you just left like that the next morning without so much of a fight as if ten years means nothing to you… that really did hurt. You left me alone to talk to the kids about what happened. And sure, you did call every day. But it took you nearly nine months to finally come and see your children?”

“I needed some time. Some space,” I tell her. “Do you think it’s easy for me being there? Away from my wife and kids?”

“You chose to be there.”

“You know I couldn’t stay in London,” I murmur. “It’s too hard. At least in LA sometimes I can just pretend that everything’s okay. That we’re okay. That my wife and kids will be there waiting for me when I get home. I can’t do that in London.”

“That’s a shit excuse and you know it,” she mutters.

“I still love you, Em,” I say with a sigh. I know trying to defend myself further for what I did will get me nowhere. “We can fix this. We can be a family again.”

“Harry, it’s too late.”

“Is it him?” I can’t help but go there, because that’s a possibility. “Do you love him already?”

“Luke is a fresh start for me, H. I may not love him now but at least it doesn’t hurt looking at him. It took me months to be able to get back up again, to get to where I am right now. To finally find a little bit of peace.”

Emma’s head hangs low, and she rubs at her temple with her fingers. I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms. But by how stiff her spine is, I can tell she wouldn’t come willingly. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” I whisper, resigned. Tears well up in our eyes. There’s nothing I can say that will change her mind because we’re not seeing eye to eye. She’s still focused on the past, not that I blame her because I did hurt her badly, but I know that there is no way we can go anywhere if she can’t see past the harms I’ve caused in the past.  “I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago,” she says, her expression softens. Her thumb runs at a part of her finger where a ring used to be. “Now, I just want us to try and make this separation work. Focus on the kids. Let’s do the right thing by them.”

I nod.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“When did it all start?” I ask, my voice cracks a little. “When did you start feeling like you’re invisible to me?”

“I’m not sure I can point down to one exact moment,” she takes a shaky breath and pauses. “The change was gradual that by the time I realised it, I didn’t even recognise us anymore. I spent days and nights wondering what happened to us. That wasn’t us.”

I wipe that one tear running halfway down her cheek, and as soon as my thumb touches her skin, I lose it. I can’t help it by this point. Tears flow as much as I try to hold them back. She’s crying too. This is painful. 

“And it’d be too easy to say that I felt invisible,” she continues. “Because the truth is, I felt painfully visible. You ignored me on purpose. I wasn’t even sure what I was to you anymore, because the only chance for me to get your attention was by getting you in bed. And that was wrong. It hurts, because it felt like you only needed me to warm your bed.”

I want to deny that statement. I want to yell it’s not true. That I never intended to take her for granted. That she still makes my heart skip a beat like a bloody teenager seeing his first crush. 

But I don’t.

Because she’s right. I’m not sure what happened either, but we’d changed. Maybe it’s our jobs, maybe it’s the endless responsibilities. Domesticity, children, they wore us down. Kisses became perfunctory. Hugs became less frequent. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I took my wife for a date night other than for social obligations.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her again. I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising to her if I have to, she deserves it. “I hurt you badly. I really am sorry, Emma.”

“It wasn’t all you though,” she mumbles. “I never called you out on it.”

“You didn’t,” I reply. “I never worked out why?”

“I swept it under the carpet because it was embarrassing. It felt silly having to ask for your attention. And I don’t know… pride, maybe? And the kids. I didn’t want them to know something was wrong. So I played along and carried on like nothing was happening.”

“When really…”

“It was like a punch to the guts each time. You were an excellent father. You still are, the kids adore you. This may sound insane and it’s embarrassing and painful for me to admit this, but there were times when I saw you with the kids and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. When you couldn’t even be bothered to look at me… it felt like you took a dump over all my love for you.”

“Emma…”

“I wish I could get past that. I wish I could just forget what happened and trust you again.” 

I bring her in for a hug and say nothing. She needs to get this all out. This is part of the process, and I’m here to listen. 

But where do we go from there?

Reconciling a broken marriage is tricky. I am not a violent person but I have never wanted to strangle people as much as I want to strangle those who wrote articles with countless advice regarding this subject, making it seem like it’s easy. Talk it out, get your point across, and you’re out of the dog house. Well, you know what, bollockface? It turns out that listening is not enough. Sod you and your dumb articles. 

All I know is that I can’t rush this. She’s not ready, and that’s okay. Right now, we both have things to work on. She needs to learn to let go of her resentment, and I have to learn not to take anything and anyone for granted ever again. This is killing me, but there is no one to blame but myself. I take solace in knowing the fact that I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. Maybe one day we’ll be back together. Maybe we won’t. 

“Thank you for telling me all that,” I mumble against her hair. 

“Thank you for listening,” she looks up and gives me a sad smile.

***

Emma comes from a big family. 

There’s Jamie, her eldest brother and the only guy. I think the fact that he grew up surrounded by sisters was what made us the closest in the first place. He hates wine, even though he makes a career out of managing his own vineyard. I know, the irony. The next is Suze, sister number one who lives in Sheffield with her husband and three girls. Suze and her husband are both orthopaedic surgeons. Then my wife, the middle child. Then Meg, sister number two who just had a baby. It’s another girl so my George is still the only grandson in the family. And then Lucy, the youngest of the clan who’s still in university. 

They all live nearby, and I knew that all my in-laws hated me a tiny bit for taking their daughter and sister away. They were a hard outfit to infiltrate. You don’t enter into a relationship with one of them, you get a whole gaggle of them. It was hard to get in, but once you’re in, you’re in for life. 

After we’d split, I called my parents-in-law the next morning just before my flight to LA. I wasn’t sure whether or not Emma had told them about what happened, but I felt like it was the right thing to do. After all, they’d become my parents too for a decade. So I explained and apologised. Of course, I didn’t tell them the details because I knew they were between Emma and me, and they respected us enough not to ask. They were upset, but they also understood that these things happen in life. All they wanted was just for their grandbabies to come out of this unscathed. 

Now here I am, walking behind Emma and our children as we step over the threshold into her parents’ home for their monthly roast. Her parents invited me and I accepted. I don’t want to turn down any extra time I have with my kids as I’ve decided to leave today and head back to London. I was prepared to stay longer, take some time off work and fight for my marriage, but since it all has gone to pot, I figured I should leave. The world doesn’t stop even when you’re struggling with marital woes. I’ve got work to do, and I also know that it is best to give Emma space. 

I hear voices as we walk inside.

“If littl’uns are going in highchairs then what’s that extra space for?” I hear Meg’s husband say.

Meg tells him. “Count again, addition was never your strong point.”

“Oh.”

The house is suddenly quiet when they see me. This is my first time seeing the whole family again after we split, and even though my parents-in-law and I are on good terms, and Jamie too, I know the sisters would be a different story. All four of them are beyond close and they’re now looking at me as if they should’ve chucked me in the oven instead of the chicken.

You don’t do that to our sister. You hurt one, you hurt all of us. 

“Uncle Harry!” Freya shouts in excitement. She is one of Suze’s daughters. She and her twin sister Tessa are only a few months older than my George.

Suze, who is sitting on the sofa, looks a bit sullen, not knowing what the right call is to make. Meg and her husband freeze. 

“Alright there, mate?” Jamie greets me, trying to ease the tension. Suze glares at him.

“Are you here to do magic then, Uncle Harry?” Tessa asks. 

I bend down to her level. “Not sure I know any magic, Tessie.”

“Yeah you do!” Freya pipes up. “Because when we were driving here, daddy said you did a disappearing act on Aunty Ems. Show us what you did!”

“FREYA!” Her dad barks.

Meg can barely contain her giggles.

“But we like magic. You’re rubbish at magic,” she says to her dad. He widens his eyes. 

The sisters are now all smiling smugly, knowing a couple of six-year-olds just shamed me on their behalf. Extra roast potatoes for those two.

Lucy, the littlest sister, suddenly enters. That’s definitely not a happy face. “Oh, it’s you. Is that why everyone went so quiet? What are you doing here?”

“Luce,” Emma mutters.

“Because I invited him,” says a voice emerging from the kitchen. My father-in-law. “Harry, glad you could make it.”

“Of course,” I reply. “Thanks for the invitation.”

Lucy stares daggers at her dad, knowing she can’t unleash her trademark rapier wit as she’s surrounded by her little nieces and nephews. That one may be the youngest but she’s the scariest out of all the sisters, my wife included.

“Look, if it’s weird, I can just leave?” I offer.

“Nonsense, you must stay for supper,” Emma’s mum replies.

“Yeah, Harry, stay,” says Emma’s dad, staring at his daughters. “I want you lot to be nice. Otherwise, I’m putting you on the kids table. You hear me?”

The three of them nod in unison. 

“You two look well,” I say, my attempt to make small talk. 

“You know, dad’s been singing this morning,” Emma’s mum chirps, tilting her head towards her husband. “He joined a male choir. They think they’re Westlife.”

We all can’t help but laugh. This is classic mum. The tension seems to ease away. 

Let’s just hope it stays that way.

***

There’s a strange feeling of déjà vu as I take a seat on the steps in front of the cottage. 

I’m all packed up and ready to go. My weekender bag is in the boot of my car. Nothing left to do but say goodbye to my wife and kids, but I don’t go straight inside. 

Not yet. I need a moment.

These steps witnessed a lot of our marriage even though we’d never stayed here for longer than a couple of weeks at a time. We loved to sit out here in the summer. I remember when I first brought my stuff here shortly after we got married, we sat out here with beers, sleeves rolled up, boxes stacked into Jenga-style columns. 

I also remember sitting here last year on Christmas morning. Emma and I were both in our pyjamas and slippers, sipping coffees out of our matching Christmas mugs. We watched the kids ride their new scooters up and down the street. Everything was perfect. I had no idea that my marriage would end in just two months after that.

“Harry?”

I look over my shoulder and I urge her to sit beside me. She comes over and does just that. There is silence. We don’t say a word to each other. A quiet hum of traffic in the distance, puffs of breath cloud the air making me think we should both be wearing coats. Christmas is nearly here again. My heart aches at the thought of this being our first Christmas since everything fell apart.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

“I should be the one apologising, Em.”

“I know you wanted to work things out,” I hear the sadness in her voice. “I really loved you, you know that, right?”

“I do,” I nod. “Our marriage, all those years… it wasn’t all bad, though, right?”

“Of course,” she quickly replies. “We had our moments. We have Minnie and George.”

We pause, letting that sink in. In all this mess, those two were and remain everything, some symbol of our marriage not being a complete disaster. 

“There were also times when you were a good husband,” she adds.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to pat me on the head?”

Emma laughs under her breath.

“Your new bloke seemed a nice sort,” I tell her, because it’s true. I may hate the guy with a burning passion, but that’s only because he’s dating my wife. 

“He is.”

“That got legs?” I ask her.

“Possibly.”

“I want you to be happy, Ems,” I tell her. “With or without me.”

“Harry…”

“But I also want you to know that I’ll be waiting for you. No rush, no timeline. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. Because for me, it’s either you or no one else.”

The front door opens and two little faces pop out from behind it.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” Shouts Minnie.

“Well then come here and give me cuddles to warm me up,” I tell her.

Emma and I take a kid each. She takes George and lets him entangle his legs in hers, cradling himself into the hook of his mummy’s arm. Minnie uses me like a climbing frame. I bop her on the nose as I’ve done since she was a baby, and I like that it never stops being hilarious to her. The sky starts to dim, trees casting shadows onto the pavement. A house down the road has some festive lights that switch on and flicker on and off in strange syncopated patterns.

“This is nice,” Minnie mumbles. “I miss the awesome foursome.”

“The awesome foursome, huh?” I ask.

“That’s what you used to call us,” I hear the sadness in her voice and my heart aches. I know she feels this all a lot more than her little brother. “I still remember.”

“Do you really have to go again, daddy?” George looks at me with sad puppy dog eyes. 

“Yeah, do you?” Minnie asks. “I love having you here.”

“I do, my loves,” I reply sadly. “Be good for mummy, alright? I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“I don’t like seeing you go,” George mumbles.

The emotion is a little unbearable and I see a tear trail down my wife’s cheek. George looks petrified seeing his mum cry. 

“Don’t be sad, mummy.”

“I’m not sad,” she shakes her head, quickly wiping the tear off her cheek. “I’m just sorry daddy and I couldn’t make it work.”

“Did we do something wrong?” George asks, looking at his mum and then me.

“Oh, mate,” I reach out to cup his face, Emma pulls him into a hug. “Of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong. You two are perfect, you hear me?”

“Do you still love each other?” Minnie asks.

Emma looks at me in the eye as she answers our daughter. “I’ll always love your dad, because he gave me both of you.”

“And I’ll always love your mum,” I say, my eyes pinned on my wife. “No matter what.”

Emma

“So… tell me, he a good lay? He looks the sort to have some girth.”

I probably should have warned you beforehand about this sister of mine.

Lucy is my entertainer sister who has done every job going alongside studying. She went to dance school, spent six months on a cruise ship, has been an extra and once did a two-month stint in Les Misérables. On weekends she dresses up as Disney characters and does kids’ parties which means she owns a lot of wigs and always has glitter in her bra. She’s the fun one. I keep her close because as much as I love my other siblings, this one has been a good entertainment through my separation. Mum suggested for her to live with me for a couple of weeks when I first moved back to the Peak, and I’m so glad she did. It was around the time I lost a stone and would spend most of the time napping, crying and staring at the wall, surviving on cups of tea and Rich Tea fingers. She couldn’t cook or clean and she used all my shampoo but she brought some light into the house when grey clouds threatened to consume it. She was also a great distraction because I could live vicariously through her tales of going to gigs and clubs and hear how she’s not slept and got her boobs out for reasons of fun and frivolity.

However, when you talk to her, she always goes there. She’s brash and has no conversational limit. She thinks her purpose is to not only feed me but also revive a pretty dead sex life too. Actually, it’s not just her. After my husband and I split, my sisters think it’s their job to pique my interest in men again. Luke happened after a boozy Chinese takeaway about two months ago when I joked that a spring roll was the most phallic thing I’d had in my mouth for over half a year. I remember a dumpling rolled out of Meg’s mouth in shock, so Suze decided to play the matchmaker and introduced me to Luke who worked at the same hospital with her.

Tonight, we’re having another takeaway night since my parents have all the grandchildren for the weekend. Bless them for entertaining that crew of children we seem to have acquired over the past nine years. We have seven between Suze, myself and Meg, and I just hope that my parents are well stocked with wine. They will need it. 

We all sit around my dining room table with the remnants of a KFC bargain bucket, a selection of Thai food, a giant bag of chips and some battered sausages. I’d admit that we were already a little drunk to buy food sanely. Luke is also here, I thought it’d be nice to give my sisters the chance to get to know him. And it doesn’t take Lucy more than thirty seconds after Luke gets up to take a phone call before asking such questions. 

“I don’t know? I haven’t slept with him yet.”

Lucy looks at me in confusion. “But you’ve been on dates and stuff?”

“We did have a cheeky snog last week but we’re taking it slow.”

“What are you waiting for? Just go shag him. Erase the memory of that wanker?” 

“Hey, he’s your niece and nephew’s father,” I chastise her for calling Harry names. “Don’t call him that.”

“Why don’t you want to sleep with Luke?” Meg, my other sister asks me. “Lucy is right though. He’s really tall, I bet he’s VWE.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Very well-endowed.”

I chuckle. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

Meg giggles and places her head on my shoulder. 

“Last time I had sex was on Valentine’s Day, girls. Do your maths. The next day, my marriage collapsed.”

Both of them huddle into me like penguins. 

“Which is why you just need to get over yourself,” Lucy remarks. “You need to remember what sex is like. It’ll be fun and make you feel good. If you don’t want to do it with Luke, you can have some taster session? I’ve got a uni mate who’d shag you.”

“Lovely. No.”

Lucy huffs. “You’re so boring.”

“Honestly, Em, Luke is fit. Seems like a nice fella, and he genuinely likes you. I’d have a go on him if I weren’t married. You should just do it,” says Meg.

“Yeah, you could shag him tonight,” Lucy adds. “Meg and I can piss off out and then…” 

Then she does a strange rave-style dance as she thinks of her plan coming together. Luke returns from his phone call and Lucy jiggles in her seat. Don’t you bloody dare. 

“Luke, we need more wine,” says Lucy. “There is not enough and we thought you could walk down to the shop and get some?”

Meg and I look at each other for a second, wondering what our sister is up to. 

“Sure, yeah, I could get wine,” Luke replies. “Any other requests?”

If she tells him to get condoms in then I will skewer her with a chopstick.

“Anything you might fancy or need?”

She’s walking an incredibly thin, thin line. 

Luke gets up to retrieve his coat and grazes my hand as he does. This move doesn’t go unnoticed by Meg and she gives me a sly wink. I hand him my keys and he heads for the front door. Meg stares Lucy out.

“Seriously?” She says.

“We need to prepare you if you’re going to sleep with him.”

“Like mentally?” I ask.

“Like have you had a tidy? This will be your first time. You’ll need to at least tidy up the flaps and do a bit of topiary.”

“LUCY!” I gasp and laugh at the same time, holding my hand to my face. Who is this woman? How can you raise five children in the same house and come up with such a random entity?

She stands up and heads for my kitchen drawers, rifling around until she pulls out a pair of scissors.

“Show me your bush,” she orders.

“Lucy! I prepare food with those scissors.”

“And we’ll wash them?”

Meg is in hysterics as she sees this scene unfolding in front of us.

“I’m not getting my bush out in my kitchen.”

“You’re so dull,” Lucy complains. “I’m trying to help here. What are your pits like? Shame there’s no time to tackle your upper lip.”

I put my hand over it instinctively. “I’ve got a moustache?”

“Well, you’re not Tom Selleck but it could do with a bleach.”

“You’re being cruel now, Luce,” Meg giggles. “But I think we do need the comedy of seeing Lucy trimming your bush in the kitchen.”

I stand up reluctantly and unbutton my jeans.

“Ha!” Exclaims Lucy. “You’re wearing nice knickers, you knew this was going to happen. Just peel them back a little and let me have a look.”

“Be quick for fuck’s sake. This is something that no one needs to see.”

“Do you want a shape?”

“What?”

“Yeah, like a heart? It’d be cute.”

“No!”

Meg roars with laughter.

“I’ll just trim the length then,” says Lucy. “Meg, put your hand out.”

“Do I have to?”

“Don’t you love your sister enough to at least hold her pubes?”

I’m not even sure what’s happening here. One sister is very close to my private regions with a sharp object and I hear the creak of metal as she shears away. The other collects the trimmings in a napkin in her palm. This feels like an opportune moment to ring Suze, our other sister, and start a FaceTime chat. That time we all took one for the team so Emma could reclaim her sex life.

“Thanks, Luce.”

“You don’t say this enough I feel.”

“We really don’t,” says Meg.

“Want me to look at yours, Meg?”

“I’m good.”

“What if he’s into weird stuff?” I ask.

“Like?”

“I don’t know… maybe like choking? Stuff like that.”

“Well, no one breaks out all the moves on their first time,” says Meg but Lucy gives us a look like she begs to differ.

“And I’m not on anything. I stopped the pills months ago. What if I get pregnant?”

“That’s what condoms are for?” 

They both give me a look that says I am not fourteen and that I should have an inkling about how reproduction works and the preventative measures that I can put in place to stop myself from getting pregnant. 

“How do I initiate it?”

“Maybe you could dance for him?” says Luce mockingly. “You’ve both had a drink, let it just happen. Planned sex is the worst kind of sex.”

“I planned nothing. You’re the one who’s got the kitchen scissors.”

“I’m done, anyway. Not my finest work but then at least he’ll be able to find it?”

Meg laughs again as she goes to the bin with her napkin of pubes. I do my jeans up and sit at the table, downing what’s left in my glass. What if he can’t get it up? Or worse, what if he doesn’t like my boobs? I have modest boobs. They wouldn’t win any competitions. What if he wants better boobs?

“You’re overthinking,” says Meg.

“I haven’t got any condoms.”

Lucy reaches inside her handbag, pulls out two packets of johnnies and hands them to me. How far ahead has she planned this?

“Any other excuse?” Lucy asks.

“Look, tonight, just get naked with the fella, have some bloody fun. Enjoy yourself.”

I hear the key go in the latch of the front door. That was quick. Crap. Luke enters the kitchen with two bottles of red that I immediately feel guilty about as I’ve got a rack of it in the utility room. He also carries a few packs of crisps and takes the kitchen scissors that were on my table.

“No!” I stop him. “Those need to be washed.”

He looks at me in confusion and I love that he puts them in the sink without any further questions asked. He rips opens the packet of crisps with his hands instead.

“Crisps?”

Lucy grabs a handful of crisps before she grabs her phone, pretending to read some texts. “Bollocks! Meg, we forgot about the party.”

Meg quickly plays along. “Oh yeah, crap. It’s that birthday party, innit?”

I feel awful. I’m sending the sisters back out into the cold so Luke and I can have the house to ourselves. They both keep winking at me which is more down to the fact that they’ve had at least a bottle of wine each for themselves tonight. Luke stands at the kitchen door while I wave everyone off. This feels weird. 

“Have fun, kids!” Chants Lucy as she shepherds Meg away from the house. I shut the door.

And then there were two. I turn around and Luke is no longer at the doorway. I tiptoe into the kitchen to find him stacking plates. 

“Shall we tidy up now?” He asks.

“It can wait.”

My phone on the table lights up with an incoming text. It’s Lucy. Don’t forget to adjust your tits. Make sure they’re facing forwards. Show a bit of bra. 

Does this mean my boobs are not always facing forward? Where are they looking? This isn’t helping at all. I ignore it.

“Alright,” Luke says with a smile that makes me feel relaxed but also on the faint side of nauseated. It’s probably first time nerves. Is it weird that I’m thinking about the cleanliness of my bedroom? Did I pick up yesterday’s bra from the corner of my room? Do I remember how to go down on a man? What if he doesn’t fancy me?

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder whether my marriage ended with Harry because I was terrible in bed. Maybe I wasn’t attractive enough. I’ve had kids, parts of me are stretched and doughy. Maybe I didn’t provide what he needed. 

In the last year of our marriage, I think it’s safe to say that I was mainly the one to initiate things between us and my success rate wasn’t 100%. There’s this nagging thought in my head that maybe even on those nights I succeeded, those were just pity shags.

You know what, sod it. 

I grab him by the collar and kiss him. He stumbles a little but then lets his body fold into mine. I can do this. Crap. He’s lifting me up. He sits me on the counter and I’d like to say the moment overtakes but there’s red wine inches from my arse so I move the glass with my hand whilst still kissing him. We’re kissing. This is weird. It’s different. It’s not my husband’s lips. Why am I thinking about my husband’s lips? 

I shake my head, banishing that image. Harry doesn’t belong in this room with me right now. 

I feel his hands in the small of my back and then he lifts my jumper over my head. I’m in my bra. Don’t overthink it. Oh, the bra is off. My nipples are out in the kitchen. I run my fingers through his hair as he trails kisses down my neck. Is it weird that right now, at this very moment, all I can think about is that his blond, floppy hair looks like a golden retriever?

I gasp and push him away involuntarily when his mouth wraps on my nipple. This is wrong. This feels wrong. I thought it was just first time jitters but now I think this is deeper than that. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, looking concerned.

I grab my jumper and quickly put it back on. “I… I’m sorry, Luke. I can’t. I have to go.”

“Emma, I’m sorry,” his face reads panic. “Did I read the signals wrong? I thought you wanted this. I feel terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologise,” I say hastily. “You didn’t. I did want this. Or so I thought. It’s just… I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll be ready any time soon. Or ever.”

“What do you mean? Are you breaking up with me?”

I have to be straight with him. I take a deep breath. “I want to give you the opportunity to walk away. You’re a good guy, Luke. I just don’t think it’s fair for me to string you along if we can never progress.”

“Is it your ex-husband?”

He’s still my husband. But I don’t say this out loud. 

“He told me that he wanted to give our marriage another shot about two weeks ago when he was here,” I tell him. “I did say no right away. I didn’t think it was a good idea. But…”

“Is it really?” He asks. “You two have a lot of history. Two kids. Why wouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“I’m worried.”

“And what are you worried about?”

“My heart?” I say quietly. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

Luke smiles at me through sympathetic eyes. “Listen to me, Emma. I’m not a cardiologist, but I know that the hearts are the strongest organs in the human body. They can go through anything.”

What happens next feels like a blur. All I know is that by midnight, I’m already halfway down the M1, on my way to London. 

Harry

It was a knock on the door that woke me up.

When I first open my eyes, I’m disoriented. I don’t know what time it is, or how long I’ve been asleep. Then I realise I’m on the sofa, and it’s still dark outside. It’s also raining. I walk towards the door and open it, just in time to catch a figure going down the steps, which doesn’t take me more than a second to recognise. I am in complete shock. Is this real? Is that really my wife, standing in front of my door in the middle of the night? Or are my eyes deceiving me?

“Emma?”

She stops on the pavement and slowly turns to face me. She’s spooked through—her jeans moulded to the curves of her legs, the sleeves of her jumper dripping, her hair flat, lips slightly tinged with blue.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she says. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”

I open the door wider, and my voice is drowsy and deep when I say, “Come on, let’s talk inside.”

She takes a step back instead.

“I just… I wasn’t thinking. I’m here. I don’t know why,” she sounds genuinely bewildered—even a little panicked.

“Are the kids in the car?” I ask her and she shakes her head. The wind blows, spraying ice-cold drops across my bare skin where my shirt hangs open. “You’re shivering, honey, come inside.” 

She stares at me, so many emotions swirling in her expression. She’s like a skittish kitten who can’t decide if she should let the stranger pat her head or haul up the nearest tree. It breaks my heart.

“I don’t think I can.”

So I go to her. 

The rain is cold and hard, soaking my shirt. Her eyes dart from the pavement, to my chest, up to my eyes and back again, like she’s ready to bolt—but her feet stay glued.

I lean in so she can hear me through the rain. “Do you remember the first time we went to Paris together? When we were young and crazy enough to only rent one electric scooter for both of us, and we rode around the city at night?”

The corners of her mouth tug up a little. “I remember.”

“But then I was going way too fast and we hit a rock, and both of us went flying. I didn’t want to ride anymore the next day, because I was afraid you’d get hurt. Do you remember what you told me?”

“I said…” she begins, her eyes meet mine. “I said we had to keep riding. Because it’s the only thing that made falling worth it.”

I nod tenderly and hold out my hand. “I’m not going to let us fall this time, Emma.”

Her eyes are back on the pavement. “I’m not sure-”

I know she still doesn’t trust me. I know that sadness on her face and how it penetrates so deeply. I know she’s probably better off without me, the bastard who crushed her heart and soul and took her for granted for years. 

We shy away from the things that hurt us. But that’s what scars are for. They protect the wounds. They cover them with thick, numb tissue so we’ll never have to feel that same pain again. The scars that my wife has inside? They’re tough. 

I beg when she continues to stare at my hand, “Please, just come inside.”

Slowly, tentatively, her hand slides into mine. 

And we go in out of the rain.

I take her upstairs to the bedroom that used to be ours. Her teeth chatter as she sits on the edge of the bed. I throw a blanket over her shoulders, rubbing her arms, sliding down to cup her hands. 

“Shit, you’re freezing. How long were you out there?”

“A while. I was walking… thinking.”

“Just some friendly advice. Next time you go a-wandering, stop and buy an umbrella.”

Emma shivers as she laughs. I pull the blanket closer around her and rub her back. 

“So… you gonna tell me what’s this midnight adventure about?” 

Her voice comes out soft and wavering in the dark room. “I was with Luke.”

“Did he do something to you? I’ve watched enough crime documentaries to pull a perfect murder.”

She shakes her head and chuckles. “We were having a takeaway night. Meg and Lucy were there too, but then they left and there were just the two of us and-”

“Please spare me the details,” I beg.

“Nothing happened. I just… I couldn’t get through it. Your face kept popping out in my head and I knew that if I went all the way through, we’d lose our chance. And I didn’t want us to lose our chance. I know this is completely the opposite of what I said to you two weeks ago but it’s true. I wasn’t ready then and maybe I’m still not ready now, but I don’t know about the future and you said you’d wait for me and…”

Her words trail off and my chest clenches with that sublime mix of excitement and trepidation. Of wanting something so much it’s like every cell in your body is stretching, reaching for it, yet there’s a grey shadow of worry that you might never get to touch it.

“Oh, Ems…”

I cup my hands around hers and blow into them. Another shiver vibrates through her. 

For a moment we sit there in silence. Memories of us in this bed come flooding back. Of the kids piling in here bright and early, and us having cuddles and catch ups over the week just gone. Of the two of us and that sacred half an hour we had together before we go to sleep. Where we could have a proper chat without little voices interrupting us every few seconds. Sometimes we’d read together too, and other times when we just couldn’t be arsed, we’d simply spend that half an hour scrolling through memes and having a laugh together.

“You’ve got to get out of these wet clothes,” I say gently, with absolutely no teasing suggestion. We’re right on the precipice. I can feel it. And I have to tread so carefully, because one wrong move could send her away, truly lost to me.

I peel my soaked shirt off and let it drop to the floor. Her eyes move, trailing over my shoulders. I stand and slowly unbutton my jeans, leaving me in black boxer briefs. 

Her eyes follow my every move, looking at me.

I push the blanket off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I grasp her jumper at the bottom and lift slowly. I wait for her to push me away but she doesn’t. She raises her arms instead. I pull the jumper over her head and it lands with a plop on the floor. I remind myself not to enjoy the view. I’m trying hard not to look.

My chest rises and falls as rapidly as hers. I sink to my knees in front of her and reach out for the button of her jeans. She lifts her hips and my fingertips graze her skin as I slide them down her thighs, leaving the white lace knickers in place. 

“Get under the sheets,” I whisper and she does just that.

She scoots to her side of the bed, and I slide beside her. Without a word, she snuggles into my side. The cool feel of her flesh is a shock at first, but in just a few moments, my heat chases away her chill. Except for her feet. I practically jump when she runs one up my calf.

“Yer a bloody ice cube!”

She laughs kind of evilly. 

We face each other, almost nose to nose. Her hair still drips at the ends and a drop trickles over her collarbone, down her chest, and I’ve got to take a deep breath—because I want to lick it off her so badly.

“Talk to me,” she says softly.

“I’m taking time off work.”

“But you never take time off work?” 

“I’ve got a lot to make up to the kids,” I tell her. “So I told Jeff to bugger off for at least until after New Year.”

I see her smile in the dim light.

“I’m gonna stay up with my mum,” I add. “I’ll only be an hour away from you lot.”

This is something that I’ve been mulling about. If I really do want a chance with Emma, I need to move up there because absence does not make the heart grow fonder. That may be true in secondary school when you went away for the summer. But in marriage, especially in a broken marriage, absence separates people. It creates distance. That’s the opposite of what you’re trying to achieve. You want the closeness back.

My wife’s palm runs over my bicep—tentatively at first—then with a surer touch. “They’d love that.”

“Also, you remember my old mate Stu?” She nods. “We got in touch just earlier today. He’s got a litter of puppies and he offered one for us. I told him I need to talk to you first. So what do you think?”

“A puppy, huh?”

“A puppy.” 

“I think that’s a good idea,” she says. “But I’ve never had a dog though.”

“I can train it first at my mum’s?” I offer. “I’ll get it all settled. Then when it starts sleeping through the night, I’ll bring it over.”

“Does it make me a terrible mum for wishing we had that kind of service when the kids were newborns?” 

“We had that service. It’s called sending them to the grandparents.”

We both laugh, and when the laughter dies down, we’re silent for a few minutes. The thrum of my heartbeat jacks up as her hand continues to stroke my arm. 

“Harry?” Her voice is the barest whisper, like she’s checking to see if I’m asleep. 

“Hmm?”

“I… I’ve missed you. So much.”

And I’m done.

The need to kiss her, to touch her, has been pulling at me like a raging current ever since I saw her on the front step, and with those few words, I let the current take me. 

***

Numerous studies have shown that having sex extends the human life span. At this rate, Emma and I are going to live forever. We probably slept twenty minutes max throughout the night and I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve done it. I’m pretty sure the last time we did something like that was ten years ago on our honeymoon. 

We’re sitting at the breakfast nook. Her hair mussy and she’s wearing one of my T-shirts. She looks freshly fucked, which I know to be true, and I reckon she’d be ready to crawl back into bed with me if I just crook my finger. But I don’t do that. Because this, us, sitting here in the morning sunlight, playing footsies under the table while we talk over coffee is all I’ve been dreaming about every morning.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks when she catches me looking.

“You,” I smile. “You look perfect.”

“No, no more,” she shakes her head frantically. “I won’t be able to walk.”

“You dirty lass, I was trying to be romantic and all that,” I can’t help but snort in laughter. “And you always do that… rebuff any type of compliment I try to give you.”

It’s true. If I tell her she looks beautiful, she waves a dismissive hand at me. If I compliment her mind, she blushes. Even an appreciative look from me has her turning shy like a schoolgirl.

When she doesn’t respond to me, I continue to poke at her. “Why is that? Why does it embarrass you when I tell you that you’re smokin’ hot?”

She wrinkles her nose at me. “Because it’s weird. I feel like you just have to say that.” 

She pretends to go through one of her old magazines from when she still lived here. I reach across the table and bat at it, causing one side to pull out of her hands and reveal her entire face to me. Now she’s glaring. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

And I grin when I see red stain her cheeks.

“And you’ve got the most gorgeous body. I take one look at you naked and I can’t help but get rock hard.”

“Stop it,” she blusters, now blushing all the way down her neck.

I change tactics, but I know this will embarrass her just as much. “You are the most amazing woman. Kindest, genuine and grounded. Funniest too. And you’re the best mother for our babies.”

“Okay,” she snaps at me as she closes the magazine and slams it down onto the table. “You’ve made your point.”

Chuckling, I stretch back in my chair and nudge her foot with mine under the table. “You’re adorable.”

She rolls her eyes, which I find to be beyond adorable. 

Standing up from my chair, I walk around the table and hold my hand out to her. She willingly takes it and stands when I give her a tug. It’s a natural move for her, to walk straight into my embrace and press herself against me. I tilt my head and kiss her on her jaw. “It’s something you need to get used to… compliments from me. It’s never going to stop.”

She moans softly in my ear.

“Want to know what else you’re going to have to get used to?” I whisper as I kiss my way down her neck.

Her fingers come up, tangle in my hair, and fist tightly. “What’s that?”

“My face between your legs.”

***

Some people might not put Quaglino’s into the romantic restaurant bracket, but they’d be wrong, very wrong. In actual fact, it’s quite hard to top. The interior has this 1930’s romance charm with candlelit tables, dark-panelled walls and an adjoining room for dancing to the soft tunes of the piano man singing bluesy versions of classic songs. 

Tonight, I managed to convince Emma to go out to dinner with me before she goes back to our babies. I insist on driving her since I don’t want her to drive alone at night again, which she initially refused but finally agreed.

We finish our dinner and split a slice of cheesecake for dessert. Probably not my brightest idea since I keep having to readjust myself because seeing her slowly swallow a mouthful of white, creamy concoction is a pure kind of torture. But I try to kick those dirty thoughts out of my mind and focus. 

Since last night, we’ve successfully managed to avoid the talk. It feels like we’re in a bubble where everything is perfect and we’re just scared to burst it, but I know this can’t go on. Emma and I need to have a proper chat if we want this to work.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“You and I need to talk, don’t you think?” I begin. 

“You’re right,” she nods. “So…”

“What is this?” I gesture between us. “Are you ready to give us another shot?”

“I think so,” she nods. “But I want us to take it slow.”

“You set the pace,” I assure her. “I want this to work more than I want anything else in my life. So I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“We’ll see this as a new dalliance,” she adds.

I know this is supposed to be serious so I try hard not to break into laughter. “Okay. I will court you but I won’t ask you to move to an estate in the country. Not right away at least.”

“I’m serious.”

“You sound like Austen.”

She rolls her eyes. “And we can’t tell anyone either.”

“I agree,” I tell her. “And from now on, we talk to each other, alright? I’ll try to make you happy the best way I know how. But if it’s not enough for you, then you need to tell me.”

She nods, but then her graze drops before she asks. “You really do want this right?”

“I told you I want this to work more than anything else in my life.”

“It’s just… when you first told me you wanted to fight for our marriage, I was overwhelmed because it was all so sudden. You told me everything I wanted to hear. Even at that moment, everything in me screamed for us to just fall back into it all the way. But there was also a part of me that thought you were just lonely, and maybe you thought that us getting back together was the answer to it.”

“Not true-”

Emma holds up her hand. “Maybe not true, but it’s my fear. That’s why I kissed Luke that night, because I was desperate. I wanted to push things with him because I knew I’d never love him the way I love you. I knew that if things went to pot, I wouldn’t be half as devastated. But with you? I don’t think I can survive that type of heartbreak again, H. You don’t know how much it killed me to end our marriage. I can’t afford to fall back into something that’s not going to last.”

“Emma,” I reach across the table to take her hand. “I can’t even imagine how hard it was for you. I know for sure it was not a decision you made lightly, nor on a whim. I wish I had fought you on it then… had fought for you then. There was a time when I thought our marriage was over, and I was going to let you go. But I’m not going to do that now. If it takes you weeks, months, hell, Emma… if it takes you years to fully trust my devotion to you, I’m in this for however long it takes.”

Emma nods, biting into her lower lip. I can see her eyes starting to water because every bit of this is overwhelming. She turns her head towards the music floating in from the other room. It’s a Van Morrison cover, Crazy Love.

“Wanna dance?”

The request takes me by surprise since this isn’t like her. But I toss my napkin on the table and move to stand next to her, holding out my hand. The simple delight on her face when her hand slides into mine is everything.

We step out onto the edge of the dance floor. I wrap my arm around her lower back, holding her tight and flush against me. One of her hands rests on my shoulder, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. The other is clasped in mine just over my heart. We sway, eyes pinned at each other for a few moments.

“Thought you hate dancing?” I smirk.

“Still hate it,” she answers. “I’m just using it as an excuse to be closer to you.”

She sighs, practically sinks into my arms. Emma’s head fits against my chest like she was made to be there. My chin rests against her hair.

“Emma?”

She lifts her head from my chest. “Yeah?”

“You don’t need an excuse.”

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love… 

***

“What the-”

“Oi!” I yell, quickly pulling the duvet over my wife and I. “Heard of knocking?”

“Heard of a bedroom lock?” Lucy challenges.

Last night, we drove up the M1 straight from the restaurant. We took breaks in deserted services with shiny floors and bad lighting where we had coffees and wandered around WHSmith bulk buying sweets even though it’s really not that far. But you can never have too many travel sweets, can you?

And now, here we are, back at the cottage. The kids are still at their grandparents until this afternoon so Emma and I are enjoying the benefit of having the house all to ourselves by having a morning shag. That is until one of her sisters walks in on us. I’m very aware that I’m still inside Emma.

I pull out, roll over to lay down next to my wife, and we both stare at Lucy who is dressed from head to toe like Princess Jasmine from Aladdin.

“Party?” Emma asks her sister. We both try not to giggle as she sashays in to look at herself in the mirror then perches on the bed in her harem pants. Today, she’s gone heavy on the winged eyeliner and shows off a flat midriff. I quite like the pointy silver shoes though.

“No, Tesco,” she says dryly. “Obviously a party.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask her. 

Lucy glares at me. “What are you doing here? Besides rearranging my sister’s guts, of course.”

I don’t even flinch. I’ve been married to Emma for ten years, I’m used to this sister of hers.

“I’m trying to win your sister back,” I say earnestly. I know that Emma and I talked about keeping this a secret, but she literally walked on us shagging. There’s no point in denying it. It’s best that she knows my true intention rather than thinking we’re divorced with benefits.

“Eh, about time,” she replies nonchalantly.

“Luce, please keep this to yourself for now,” Emma begs her. “This is still new.”

“I will,” she nods. “Just a friendly reminder, though, Styles. If you hurt my sister again, I won’t even think twice before starting a business selling voodoo dolls of you. Bet I could make a fortune of that.”

In their girl gang, Lucy is the wildcard, the likeliest to carry a shank. I don’t even laugh because she could be serious. 

“Duly noted.”

“What are you doing here this early?” Emma asks her sister.

“I wanted to ask if I can borrow that giant tiger in George’s room?”

“Feel free to borrow the rug in the front room as well,” I cackle.

“Ooh yeah,” Emma chirps. “Are you going to find a whole new world?”

“Have you got your Aladdin?”

She pulls a face at our mocking. “My mate who’s supposed to be Aladdin is sick so I asked Jamie to fill in and he agreed because he owed me a big favour. But this lot changed their mind and wanted a genie so now I have to go to Jamie’s and convince him to let me do a full blue body paint on him.”

Emma and I roar with laughter. “Please, please, please, take some piccies.” 

***

A month later…

I can only imagine the joy on my children’s faces when they open the door. I’ll be standing there with the pup in hand, but I know I’m practically vibrating with excitement myself. I glance over at the little dog crate that we’d prepared to transport him in. It’s a sweet, nine-week-old Bernese mountain dog. He’s pretty chill, curled into a round ball, but he’s not sleeping. His eyes are open and alert, as if he’s just waiting to find out what’s around the next corner.

The back of my Range Rover is loaded with two boxes of food, dog toys, bowls, a leash, and appropriate treats. Since I’m still crashing at my mum’s, that will go to her place for when the kids and this puppy come to stay. Emma has an identical list at her home, already purchased and hiding until we hand the puppy off to the kids.

I’ve got a feeling that today is going to be a good day. All morning, Emma and I texted back and forth. Some of it was practical, like making sure we agreed on all the dog rules we’d lay down with the kids tonight. Some of it was lighthearted teasing. Some of it was dirty.

I can’t remember the last time I texted my wife throughout the day just for the hell of it. I had fun with it, and I know without a doubt she had fun with it too. Which made me realise what a twat I’d been for never doing something as simple as letting her know she was on my mind in just such a way. 

Pulling into the drive, I cut my headlights so the kids wouldn’t see me approach. I shut the engine off, quietly get out of my side, and press the door closed quietly. On the other side, I open the passenger door, then spring the latch on the dog crate, and this tiny little puppy totters straight at me with tail wagging.

I lift him in my arms. I shut the door and then move over to the patch of grass. I put the puppy down so he will go potty before I bring him in. When I was a kid, we had a dog called Max, but I sort of grew up with him so I didn’t remember when he was a puppy. And Emma never had a dog before, so we’re sort of winging it with this puppy training thing. But I don’t fret about it. I mean, we’ve had babies, they’re harder than this, surely? 

I patiently wait for this little fella to do his business, which includes a few minutes where he attacks my shoelaces and tugs. Shite, he’s cute. 

Eventually, he sniffs around, tail high and then abruptly squats to pee. I thought boy dogs lift their legs when they pee but maybe not at this age. I immediately bend and give him praise with an upbeat, positive tone that makes him excited. Who’s daddy’s clever little fella? You are! Yes, you are! You did well, mate. That was brilliant! He puts his paws up on my shin, accepting my stretches with tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of his head. My kids are going to fall in love with this little guy. 

I scoop him up in my arms when he’s done and make my way inside. But instead of entering from the front door, I circle the house so I can enter from the back, knowing they must be all in the kitchen as this is usually the time when the kids would do their homework for next week. Walking past the window, I see that I’m right. Emma is at the kitchen island with George next to her and Minnie on the opposite side. My heart starts beating faster at the thought of spending the day with my family—and apparently our new third child in my arms—and I find it almost shameful I have such excitement over it. Shouldn’t I have always been this excited? Or is it normal for things to just settle, and we take them for granted?

I shake that thought off of my mind. I had this important talk with my wife a couple of weeks ago about how we shouldn’t focus on the past. We’re both committed to repairing our marriage, and for it to work, we both know we must commit to living in the present. Because at the end of the day, the present is all we have.

I knock on the door and as planned, Emma will tell the kids to answer it.

In moments, it’s swinging open. I get a flash of Emma walking up behind our kids, but my eyes are pinned on them. They’re both in complete shock, eyes wide open staring at the puppy squirming in my arms.

Both stare at me mutely, frozen, as if they can’t believe that this is real.

Finally, I say, “surprise!”

Minnie’s gaze rises up to meet mine. “Is that ours?”

“This is ours,” I nod, laughing. But still, neither of them move forwards, so I goad them. “Come and get him?”

That’s all it takes for Minnie to scoop this little fella into her arms, pressing her nose into his head and murmuring little endearments. George scratches him and he reacts to their greetings by wiggling frantically and trying to lick both of my kids’ faces. They both laugh in a delighted way I’ve never quite heard before.

I look at my wife and see her tender smile as she watches our littles. I can tell she’s as charmed by it as I am. 

I walk inside because it’s colder than a witch’s tit outside and shut the door. “He just peed outside, but we need to keep a close eye on him. If he starts sniffing around or circling, that probably means he needs a wee. Scoop him up and take him out to the back. After he’s done with his thing, give him lots of praise and affirmation.”

“Got it,” Minnie says as she plops down on the living room floor with the pup. The puppy jumps around, and all three of them start to play.

“Now, what should we name him?” Emma asks.

“Droolius Caesar?” I joke.

Emma laughs. “Jimmy Chew?”

“Sarah Jessica Barker?” I continue. “Wait, no, it’s a boy. Franz Fur-dinand?”

“Sir Barks-a-Lot?”

“Deputy Dawg?”

“Bark Twain?”

We both laugh. We’re shite at this. The kids are too busy with the puppy to comment on our suggestions.

SpongeBob SquarePants is on the telly playing in the background. None of them are watching, but I see SpongeBob scratching his snail pet under the chin before he picks up said pet and says, “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

“Gary,” I say. The kids look at me and I point at the telly.

“That’s a ridiculous name for a dog,” Emma cackles. “But I like it.”

“That’s a human name?” Minnie’s brows knit slightly.

“I like it!” George exclaims, then proceeds to baby talk the pup who’s chewing on the end of Minnie’s braid. “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

We laugh.

“H,” Emma calls, and my gaze moves to her. She jerks her chin to the kitchen. “Help me set up the table? I’ve got a cold beer for you.”

Minnie and George still completely ignore us as we move into the kitchen. 

It would be natural for me to sit at the kitchen island while Emma gets the beer and checks on the supper, but the kids can see me from where they sit in the living room. So I follow my wife behind the island instead.

Before she can make it two steps, I move right into the back of her. Hands at her hips, I push her all the way forward until the counter catches her hips, then I dip to put my lips to her neck. 

Emma’s head falls back and she utters the tiniest of sighs, one arm looping back to go around the side of my head so she can thread her fingers in my hair. It’s an intimate embrace, but not one to provoke lust. Just a message that I missed her even though I saw her two days ago, and I love touching her in this gentle, loving way.

“The kids,” she murmurs. “They might see us.”

“Oh, the tragedy,” I whisper dryly. “Our children seeing  their parents hugging.”

Emma snickers and pulls away, glancing over her shoulder. “It would be shocking to them. And until we know for sure what we are and where we’re going, we need to keep them in the dark, remember? I don’t want them to get their hopes up.”

“You’re right,” I mumble in a low voice before moving to the island. I glance back at the living room and see the puppy on George’s back, trying to climb up. “No touching around the kids.”

She smiles and hands me a beer. She’s got one in her hand, and we tap bottles. She then moves to the oven, where she bends to take a peek through the window. Obviously, I stare at her arse as she does.

“It’s done,” she announces, opening the oven to pull the pan of shepherd’s pie.

“Need help with that?’ I ask, noting it looks like it probably weighs fifty pounds.

Twisting, she grins. “Sure. I made a double batch to send you home with some leftovers.”

That gets me. Not only she made one of my favourite meals, but she’s also sending me home with leftovers. I pop off the stool, round the island and take the two potholders she’s holding out to me.

After I carefully lift the pan from the oven, she shuts the oven door. I set it down on the two trivets she’s placed on the counter.

Bending over, I inhale the scent deeply. “Smells fantastic.”

Emma bumps her hip against me. “Well… you’ve been pretty amazing these last few weeks, so…”

I bump her hip back before sliding my hand around her waist. Bending my head, I murmur. “Admit it… it’s for the orgasms I gave you after the school run the other day.”

She chuckles with a sly smile. “Possibly.”

Leaning in closer, I touch my temple on the top of her head, lowering to a complete whisper. “You do know that I can give you that any day you want, right, Em? All you’ve got to do is ask.”

“Oh, I will,” she teases.

“What’s going on here?” Minnie says from behind us.

Emma and I jump apart as if we’d been electrocuted by each other. We spin to see Minnie standing there, with George next to her holding Gary in his arms. These two must have worn that pup out as he is still, watching us curiously.

Minnie’s expression, on the other hand, is condemning and suspicious.

“Nothing’s going on, poppet,” Emma says, her voice a little squeaky in panic. It’s adorable.

“Your mum and I were just talking,” I calmly explain.

“With your arm around her waist and whispering,” Minnie challenges. “Looks more like flirting to me.”

“Are you upset about it?” I challenge back. I knew she was upset when we separated and she struggled with it for a long time. 

Her brows knit together. “I’m just confused.”

Emma’s expression indicates she has no clue what to say. I can’t say I’m any more well equipped, but I’m going to take this one. I give my wife a subtle chin tilt, silently telling her I’ll handle this and relief evident in her eyes.

“Come on, you lot. Help me sort Gary’s stuff,” I say, herding them towards the garage. 

All three of them follow me into the garage, Gary still cosy in George’s arms. 

I immediately spot the stack of supplies, which includes a dog crate similar to mine, as well as bowls, a soft dog bed, food and toys. I pick up the soft bed towards the door that leads back into the house. Minnie turns to precede me, but I stop her. “Hang on there a second, poppet.”

When she pivots to face me her expression is guarded. “You asked about your mum and me. What do you want to know?”

“Were you two flirting with each other just now?” She demands. Crap. She’s nine. She’s not supposed to know that stuff. 

I can’t believe I get a little warm in the face at such a question, but I nod. I know it’s probably too soon to tell them but there’s no point in denying this. Both of my children are smart, and they deserve to know what’s going on. 

Her eyes narrow. “So are you… what… getting back together?”

“Does it mean you’re gonna live with us again, daddy?” George chirps.

“Not yet, nuggets. It’s not that simple.”

“It kind of is,” she replies. “You left for months. You didn’t even come during the summer. Then once she started dating Luke-”

“What’s dating?” George turns to his sister.

“It’s when you like someone and they like you back and you become boyfriend and girlfriend then you go out to eat together and do other stuff,” Minnie explains, then she continues. “Then once she started dating Luke, you’re suddenly coming around more often. And then she told me that Luke wouldn’t come over anymore and now you two are making googly eyes at each other.”

We lapse into silence for a moment. I need to think carefully about what to say next. George beats me. “I think I’m dating someone.”

“You what?” My eyes widen.

“Yeah. I asked Poppy in the playground to be my girlfriend the other day and she said yes. Then after we were done playing on the slides we got hungry so she shared her raisins with me. I also let her take a sip of my Ribena.”

I try hard not to break into laughter but Minnie doesn’t even crack a smile. 

“Okay… so here’s the thing. I was very upset. I know that was wrong of me to just leave without saying goodbye, and it was wrong of me for not visiting sooner. I needed time to let it go, and to accept what your mum wanted. But not once during that time did I not want to come back home. I’ve always wanted my family back.”

“Then what changed?” Minnie asks.

“Your mum and I spent some time apart because we both thought that was the best decision. But we were wrong. Because we realised that we didn’t want to be without each other. So now I’m trying to prove that I’ve changed. That I’m a better man, and I’m ready to be a better husband. The one your mum deserves.”

“See,” Minnie murmurs, her expression filled with confusion. George dips his head and rubs his cheek against Gary’s head, who seems to be on the verge of falling asleep. “I don’t get it. You and mum always seemed to get along great. You never argued. I never understood why you left.”

I move in close to my daughter and brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “A lot of that stuff is private between your mum and I, poppet.”

George asks. “But why can’t you just move in now, daddy?”

“It takes time, mate. Your mum and I need more time to sort ourselves out. But I promise you two that we’re trying our hardest here, okay? We need you both to be patient. Can you do that for us?”

They both nod in unison. Gary blinks twice.

“I can’t wait for us to be family again,” says Minnie.

Grinning, I bend to kiss her head. “Me too, poppet…”

***

Emma

“Gary! This way, Gary!”

Harry and I look at each other across this rather windy hilltop. The kids and Gary are exploring the neighbouring bushes and pathways as we perch ourselves on a rock nearby. We take in the view, the breeze biting at my cheeks.

My husband turns to me. “Tea? I put some whisky in it.”

“Hell, why not.”

Harry pours the tea out and we clink mugs. He brushes his thumb across my nose for no absolute reason. I was born and raised here, but this is something I’ll never tire of: these swooping hills and valleys, infinite skies and bracing breezes. As much as I loved London, I’m glad we’ve traded that life with this simpler one. There is no taxi nor Tube in sight but our kids are somehow a little bouncier and carefree. They’re happy here, and that’s all that matters. 

 “Ey up,” greets Harry at a group of people walking past us. They are obviously tourists as they have no way to respond and one of them is wearing bog standard Reebok Classics.

We hear the kids squeal in the distance and we both smile at each other. Getting that pup was probably one of our best decisions.  

“Do you remember when we first dated?” Asks my husband. “You brought me up here.”

I nod. “I do.”

“The view was decent,” he grins. 

“I know you’re not thinking about the view.”

“I was thinking about what happened when we got to the top of the meadow…”

“That was some decent shag,” I chuckle. “Nowadays, I’d worry about getting ticks on my unmentionables.”

We laugh.

I stare over at my husband taking in the view and sipping tea noisily. He always pauses for a moment on any walk to drink it all in. He rustles in his bag and gets a packet of biscuit out, opening the packaging awkwardly and offering it to me. 

“Did you know that you’re supposed to call it ‘niece’ and not ‘nice’? Apparently, they’re named after the French town.”

“That’s proper pub quiz trivia knowledge right there, Styles,” I tease.

We stay up here for a little while, but since it’ll get dark soon, we start our walk back to the car. The one thing you forget about taking kids up mountains (small hills) is that for all that experience of green space and fresh air, eventually, you will have to bring them down. Despite having an entire packet of biscuit (with a whole lot of why did you bring this one? This is rubbish. You could’ve brought hobnobs), we failed to remember to pack enough snacks and a fine drizzle is now scratching at our faces. It takes George much persuading to keep walking and by the time we return to the car, the sun is dipping behind the clouds and the twilight sits in the air. 

Harry decided it was fine to park in a deserted car park in the middle of nowhere to escape the throngs of regular walkers and tourists but strangely enough, when we get back there, we are one of six parked up.

“Come on, mate. Literally, just to the car. Like twenty more steps,” Harry begs our son to keep on walking. 

“You lied!” He complains. “You said that twenty steps ago.”

“I’ve got Haribo in the car.”

He progresses to a light canter. 

“Where did all these cars come from?” Harry asks as he approaches our motor cautiously.

“Maybe you’re not the only smart one here and people are following your lead.”

A car flashes us. 

I look around at all the cars. People are sat in them. What are they waiting for? You see this sometimes when waiting for the rain to pass or when people decide to eat their lunch in the car. 

Suddenly, I hear a car door open and a gentleman approaches us. His footsteps are low.

I know him. It’s Patrick. He’s our postman, so, yes, we have our very own Postman Pat. It was the first thing that tickled Harry when he found out years ago. And even better, the joke is not lost on Pat. His wife even got him a stuffed black and white cat for his cherry-red van window. I smile at recognising him, as do all of the occupants in our car.

“Emma, Harry, kids. Fancy seeing you here, of all places.”

“We’ve got a new dog and we were just taking him for a walk,” I inform him.

“Oh, lovely. What’s his name?”

“Gary,” the kids say in unison.

“Have you got a dog, Pat?” George asks him.

“No, my wife’s a cat lady. But funny you should mention dogs. This place here, people like to come here for that reason.”

“Gary seemed to like it,” pipes in Harry. “I think it’ll be his favourite.”

“That it is. People come here all the time for walking and with their dogs and other such endeavours.” His face looks slightly ashen at this point, his eyes darting towards the other cars. “And the other sense of the word… I just thought I would mention it as you have the littl’uns and it’s getting darker. I think someone just flashed his lights to warn you.”

Harry and I realise what he means exactly at the same time. “OH!” we say at the same gobsmacked volume. 

“Dogg…ing…” Harry mumbles. “We should-”

“Leave, like definitely leave, like now,” I say finishing his sentence.

The kids appear confused. I look around and shield my eyes. I should shield the children’s eyes. Pat’s wife waves from the passenger seat.

“Give our regards to June,” I say.

“Will do.”

He salutes us and returns to his car. The kids have all the questions. “People come here to look at dogs?” George asks. “Where are the dogs?”

“Get. In. The. Car.” Harry mouths very deliberately.

I slink into the passenger seat. Our eyes dart in different directions trying to divert focus from any of the cars ahead. We’ll be good if Harry doesn’t drive us off a cliff face. He turns on the wipers, the engine roars to a start and he pulls away slowly.

“We could have stayed and seen the dogs,” says George, a little despondently. “Gary would’ve loved to see his mates. Wouldn’t you, Gary?”

I throw a packet of Haribo at him. Harry and I are silent. We’ve just strolled our children and our very young dog into an outdoor sex hotspot. We are terrible parents. 

“Who fancies chips?” Harry says as he changes gear. He finds our littles in the rear-view mirror and studies their faces. “There’s a decent chippy down road.”

There’s a chorus of approval from the back seat. My husband smiles. He then moves his hand over from the gearstick to find mine, fingers interlocked, the sky glowing a thousand different colours.

***

“Are you calling my turkey dry?”

I look over at my older sister Suze in the corner of our family kitchen wondering where on earth she had the courage to come out with a comment like that. Even her husband stops washing up to absorb what his wife just said to our mother. I mean, you think it, but you just douse it in gravy and make do. Such is the joy of white chalky meat like turkey. Why do this now? Now she’ll harp on about the bacon she puts on the breasts and all the goose fat. But it’s Suze. She likes the challenge. I secretly think the only way she believes she can have a relationship with our mother is to spar with her regularly so they at least have one line of communication.

“It was a lovely dinner, Mum. Did you make the mince pies?” Suze winks at me.

I shake my head at her and bring the plate of mince pies through to the living room. Amidst my mother’s wreaths and tinsel wrapped around the lampshades, it’s a familiar tableau: Pop, my grandfather, asleep in the armchair in the corner, a holy green paper hat covering his eyes. Small children crawl on the floor and make angel shapes with their bodies amidst remnants of old glittery wrapping paper.  I hope Mum’s made a trifle. My other sister Meg and her husband snooze on a neighbouring sofa, catching on much needed sleep since they just had a baby four months ago and I still remember four months sleep regression is hell. I like this part of Christmas where bits of old crackers litter the floor and twilight takes over.

I take a mince pie and escape to the last vacant spot on the sofa. George rests his head on my knees. “What are you eating, mummy?” I look down at his bright green eyes and wonder how he can still be hungry as he must be ninety per cent roast potato at this point.

“A mince pie.”

“With cow mince?”

“No, like fruity bits,” I pick out said fruity bits and drop them into his mouth like a baby bird. He pulls a face, tasting it, and then walks away.

Harry smiles at me from the bottom of the Christmas tree. He’s laying down on the floor with one of my nieces. He’s always been great with kids, long even before we have our own. My niece has her palm out, and Harry runs circles in it as he sings, “round and round the garden, like a teddy bear…”

She smiles and laughs, poising her fingers, ready to bounce. 

“One step, two-step, tickle me under there,” he pretends to collapse into giggles and my niece’s little face broadens into laughter before she rolls over and walks away to play with her cousins.

Finishing my last bite of the tiny pie, I roll under the tree to join my husband. He looks at me as I cosy up next to him, the lights reflect off his eyes.

My mother likes a real tree for Christmas. It’s the smell, you can’t beat the smell. I like to think you can get that real pine smell from a good supermarket brand toilet cleaner but I don’t say that out loud for fear of incurring her festive wrath. And so there’s always a real tree and like we endured when my siblings and I were teens, there’s still a daily rota of vacuuming up the needles as we watch that bastard go crusty and brown as it’s shoved up against the radiator. 

We lay there in silence, looking up at the branches and my mother’s multicoloured lights twinkling in some erratic fashion that my eyes can’t quite handle. I’ve been to raves that were less of an assault on the senses. It’s an overwhelming memory of our childhood, lying in silence wigging out on mum’s trippy disco lights, absorbing the magic of the season. 

“You’re drunk aren’t you, tipsy-tits?”

“You were the one who poured double shots of Baileys in our coffees this morning,” I cackle.

“That’s called Christmas milk.” 

“What are you doing here?” Minnie asks, her head nestling into my shoulder. I rake pine needles from her head.

“Nothing…” Harry replies. “Where’s yer brother?”

“Here,” George suddenly appears, rolling under the tree next to his dad to join us.

“Looks like the awesome foursome is back, huh?” Harry grins.

Minnie and George hum in agreement. I can see my babies smiling. 

It’s time.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” 

I take a deep breath. “Will you come back home with us?”

-

tag list: @gohometoacactus @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @kikisparadise18 @2am-2pm @rogersdirty-louse @harrys-cherriesss @icycoldbeanieweanies @niallbestie3 @peakascum @coucoukayy @awesomebooklover17 @sunflowerryvol6 @stylessugarhigh​ @umadirectioner​ ​

[starter-library]

GAME CHANGER THE OFFICIAL CAST RECORDING/ WELCOME TO MOUNTPORT LYRIC STARTERS

FEEL FREE TO CHANGE PRONOUNS/NAMED/PHRASING AS YOU SEE FIT

“And your host, me. I've been here the whole time.”

“Have you ever had that dream where you've been on stage and

you haven't known your lines?”

“It's spring, but winter has left a hint of dew upon the air.”

“The fish are gone. Where'd they go? I don't know, but it's not my job, because I don't write the paper, I just distribute it.”

“That is so funny given what I have next.”

“Ugh, I got a whole batch of nothin’!”

“Fish are all gone! It's just water out there!”

“Did you hear about the fish?”

“Did you hear about [name]? Sorry, your things sounds bigger.”

“Welcome to the mountain slash seaside town of Mountport.”

“Hey, [name]! You're not allowed on the street anymore and you know why.”

“Okay, I guess I'll go back indoors.”

“The mountain’s over there next to the sea. How can that be?”

“What you do is a magic trick.”

“I'm gonna cut this part because it doesn't make me look cool.”

“They said I couldn't play baseball where I come from”

“It's called [town name], you loser!”

“This is my chance, I'll never give up, I'll never yield”

“Extra, extra, midday news! Fish still gone.”

“Oh, haven't seen you around here.”

“You gotta be careful. If you call it something else, everyone in the town's gonna

rag on you immediately.”

“Well, that's not a problem once you see what I can do.”

“Well, there's nothing classic about me except for my spunk.”

“The tuna fish here is beyond belief”

“It tastes real good, but don't eat too much it'll make you throw right up”

“Don't climb up that big ol' tree, a woman lives in there and she is not okay”

“Not like “not okay” like there's something wrong with her she's totally fine, she's just mean maybe evil”

“Don't talk to the woman in the tree”

“Hey, you get outta here!”

“Why do they call me a busker? I don't even know that word”

“You know the legend of the traveling, baseball-playing kid who can change the world?”

“A very, very long time ago a legend was foretold”

“This is when I was younger, but now, now I'm old”

“I said my destiny is to be a woman who is mean”

“I'll be writing this down because I'm a professional”

“I'll be writing these down, Every evil plan that you have said, Tell me about the evil plan that's in your head”

“You're gonna tear her down because you're a professional”

“Tear down a hero is what professional villains do”

“That’s legitimately better than anything I've seen on Broadway in the last 10 years.”

“I do musical theater for the points.”

“I'm so glad we're finally getting out.”

“I had to get away, and honestly, Palm Springs is 110 this time of year and I could not be more thrilled.”

“I need a swim-up bar. I need cards that could catch fire from the sun at any moment.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. They said this car still had an opening, but your luggage appears

to be in every seat.”

“I have a second question for you, pop quiz.”

“I'm here to tell you, the time is now. I'm turning off the lights”

“Ah, looky-here, In old timey speak they say hark”

“I’m showing you the dark”

“It's a ticket to nowhere, your playing days are done”

“Wow, being mean is fun”

“Your dreams are done, I'm sorry, gal, It's the end for you”

“Suddenly a feeling I can guess is destiny- A feeling of fate is bubbling up inside of me”

“There's something about you, I glimpsed it in a tree”

“No one can stop me, not even you, you'll see”

“Getting in my way would be the worst thing you could do”

“Take my guitar”

“Take your guitar?”

“I’m going to business school because business is cool”

“This is really compelling.”

“And everyone says you'll acclimate, I never acclimate to anything in my life.”

“We got to send a card to Ethel, or a fruit basket or something.”

“Would you go half and half on a fruit basket with me?”

“She doesn't like building regulations, so she actively builds it in a way that is not earthquake-safe.”

“Money can buy anything I want.”

“You're really good at getting the word out.”

“We can take it apart beam by beam as a team”

“We'll show her what money can't buy”

“This is nice, it's the most activity I've had in a while.”

“Whoa, well if you're doing something, I'm gonna try and do it better, because that is our relationship.”

“You keep me sharp, bud.”

“I told you this was a ticket to nowhere look what you had to do”

“It's a place where you can follow your dreams. And then think, well maybe I should go to business school, and then realize I could go to business school and follow my dreams”

“Well, if I'm being honest, I never wanted to be mean.”

“You could buy your own ticket to something new, If that's something you want to do”

“I guess money can buy a giant tower, but it can't buy a vocation and a passion”

“Thank you so much for welcoming in a scrappy kid from not here”

“No home run is worth it If you can't run home to a home you love”

“The world is your musical. It's just that your cast is bad at taking direction.”

[choices-binglebonkus]

Do you think there's still hope for pb and choices?

I honestly have no idea. On one hand, they’ve created genuine masterpieces like It Lives, Endless Summer, and Blades. On the other hand, they’ve gotten considerably less adventurous and creative and have pretty much sold out at this point. Like, they used to have genuine potential and originality, but now they’re just another visual novels app that caters to the same old audience.

They used to interact with fans all the time, but now they act like the “I pretend I do not see it” meme. Their “diverse” representation has been adequate at best and completely performative at worst (yes, this is STILL a hill I’m willing to die on) and most stories that come out pander primarily to straight white women. They’re notorious for treating characters of color (particularly women of color) like lesser characters, sweeping them aside for white characters. Or more specifically, white MALE characters.

The Instagram fandom (which about 90% consists of 13-16 year old white girls, often straight with varying degrees of racism and homophobia) and the Facebook fandom (which is primarily middle-aged white women, usually stay at home mothers, who are almost always straight) stroke the hell out of Pixelberry’s ego and eat up whatever they churn out. I’ll never forget how overtly racist both fandoms were towards Zoey, Lily Spencer, Shane, and Ayna. Both of those fandoms are toxic as hell, but they’re all Pixelberry will listen to, or even interact with anymore. So…that’s just peachy.

And it would be a mistake not to mention some of the VERY controversial things Pixelberry has done over the years, such as The Freshman skin tone fiasco (my jaw DROPPED at that one), the frequent villainization of women (usually of color) for no purpose other than “we need a punching bag for the main character to put in their place”, the introduction of Ahmed as a Muslim character and immediate disregard of his alcohol-free lifestyle, the OPH gas attack plot, the lizard people conspiracy they keep bringing up in TRF (who the fuck greenlit this?), and more recently, the…ugh, I hate typing this AGAIN, the incestuous werewolf threesome.

The sad reality is that Choices will probably never improve. PB will keep pushing out cliched smut because it’s what keeps the lights on, and I really can’t fault them for that. I’m not happy about it, but they’re just trying to make a living.

The real issue is the pedestal straight white cisgender female players are placed upon while everyone else gets fucked over one way or another. Want to be non-binary? Too damn bad, you’ve got one (1) story where you can be an enby. Want better Black hairstyles? Nope, sorry, can’t do that, but here’s another generic blonde hairstyle for ya. What’s that? You want more character development for your female love interest? Sure! But you’ll have to pay 17-25 diamonds just to unlock it, AND we’ll get her pronouns wrong, because he—I mean, SHE—is male-coded.

I’ve brought this up many times, but Storyscape truly was a game-changer. Had Storyscape not shut down, I guarantee you Pixelberry would be shaking in their boots. Storyscape took risks, had GREAT female love interests, had better diversity in its casts and settings than Choices even though it had barely even had any releases, AND it was in the process of releasing a book with a NON-BINARY MC, years before Choices dared to give us this option in Foreign Affairs. Also, the art was…wow. I can’t really say anything about the art except that it blew me away.

So unfortunately, there is likely very little hope for Choices at this point, which is really sad. Back when it was still good, Choices releases got me through some very dark times just by being something to look forward to every Wednesday or every Friday. It may have actually saved my life. But it seems like the Choices we have now will be the Choices we’ll always have. Blades 2 and WTD truly are my last hope for the app. I wouldn’t delete the app because it still has old stories that I love on it, but I don’t think I’d ever play a new book ever again if things continue the way they are.

In storytelling, variety, player-staff relations, representation, and so much more, they need to do better. But we all know they’re probably just going to do worse.

[tangledinmdzs]

an mdzs valentines~ [D-5]

what type of chocolates the juniors would get you <3

═ ∘♡༉∘ ═

Lan Sizhui

white chocolate

sweet, light, chocolate, 

exactly like his personality

he’d buy an assortment of chocolates

but they’d be white chocolate themed

i think he’s also the type to go for like cookie/wafer kind of chocolate

like biscuits and stuff dipped in the chocolate

and glazed sort of treats

would buy something from really cute chocolate sugary boutiques

and have them wrap it up in a really cute quaint box to give to you

and he’d also do this thing

where he’d personalize the chocolates if he could

like the shape of the cookies (hearts and flowers)

the amount of sweetness that you would like

along with adding in a few hints of new flavors that he wanted to try

it was a very formal but absolutely adorable gift

and when you both share the box together on the couch, listening to the little drizzle of rain outside on your date night

you feel so grateful that you’ve found someone that’s as sweet as the box of chocolates gifted to you

═ ∘♡༉∘ ═

Lan Jingyi

ruby chocolate

likes some weird tasting shit

so chooses valentine’s day to go all out with the tastebuds

(at least it wasn’t like last year where he tried to give you spicy chocolate, that was quite exciting)

he’d give you a bar of this different chocolate along with a big box of the normal chocolates that he had always seen you eating

“i thought it looked good, so try it with me,” Jingyi would coax you

last time you had listened to him, even milk couldn’t save you from the burn of that spicy chocolate

but he is your lovely boyfriend, so you give in to his request

ruby chocolate has a hint of fruitiness to it even though it isn’t actually made of fruit

it’s a tango between sour and sweet, and not something that you’d ever thought you’d get to taste

you don’t quite like it, but you don’t exactly hate it

“sokay?” Jingyi would ask you because he can’t read you expression

and honestly you don’t even know what kind of expression that you’re trying to make at him anyway

Jingyi breaks off a piece of the bar you’re holding in your hand, trying a bit for himself

he also makes an interested face

“hmm....” Jingyi, the (totally professional) chocolate connoisseur hums and bites off another piece of chocolate from your hand

you smile as you watch him, his thinking face much too serious for the flavor of chocolate

you let out a gentle breath

at least it wasn’t spicy this time

═ ∘♡༉∘ ═

Jin Ling 

dark chocolate

the c l a s s  of this boy

raised with his bitter uncle he’d probably be used to this particular chocolate’s taste

[ LMAO i’m sorry jiang cheng, i adore you ]

but also because his uncle(s) have extreme game in the romance department, he definitely couldn’t go wrong with their recommendations:

dark chocolate: a big game changer

and although he’s heard that the taste could be a bit hard for some people to deal with 

he hopes that you’re one of the people that can

because he’d gotten a nice assortment from a pretty well known (expensive) brand of chocolate makers

he’s a bit nervous about that, of course, now that he thinks about it

and he also thinks, maybe (just maybe) he should have bought a back up box of something that would have been easier to enjoy

but it’s too late to change his mind now

because you’re coming out of your apartment building, and he can see you walking up to the window of his car

when you open the door, take a seat on the passenger seat beside him, he hands you the small box of chocolates just as you close the door

“happy valentine’s day, y/n” Jin Ling would say 

and even though you know Jin Ling too well, his sweet gestures always bring a blush to your face

Jin Ling watches in anticipation as you open up the very nice box, looking at the few prettily decorated chocolate cubes

“wow, Jin Ling,” you comment, absolutely taken with just the pure aesthetics of the chocolate

he smiles, and is once again nervous when you take one out to try it

when you take a bite, Jin Ling is happy to hear the satisfied hum that you always make whenever you’re into something

and he feels like he’s done something right

so his heart feels assured, and he’s about to buckle up to drive you downtown when he smells chocolate under his nose

you’ve leaned over the console, trying to feed him a bite of his own chocolate gift

“try one with me, they’re so good,” you tell him, eyes sparkling and Jin Ling can’t deny you even though it was his gift for you

either way, when he eats it, he doesn’t expect the pure bitter taste that he’s assaulted with

he makes a frown, and kind of wants to spit it out

but when he turns to you, you’re happily plopping in the dwindling pieces of the chocolate assortment that he got you

and 

huh, i guess i was so worried about what y/n would think about the chocolate and i didn’t even think that i couldn’t eat it, Jin Ling thinks

but it’s never really been about him

it’s always going to be about you

═ ∘♡༉∘ ═

Ouyang ZIzhen

milk chocolate

this is the gentle, sweet, easy to fall back to flavor of chocolate

and similarly it’s kind of like Zizhen

the guy you can always return to for a sense of familiarity

but he’s also the type of boyfriend that would buy like big packs of milk chocolate (for baking and stuff) and melt them in a pot

then make like a fruit and cookie arrangement

for you both to dip and enjoy at him together

he’s a crafty boyfriend like that

and it’s also the easiest route to your heart

like it’s such a nice gift

and also so easy to make

you always loved chocolate fountains

and even though (obviously) you and Zizhen both can’t afford nor have the space for something like that in your apartment

when he steps into the bedroom with a tray full of your favorite fruits

and a cute bowl with warm melted milk chocolate 

you can’t help but fall in love with him even more

“let’s feast,” Zizhen would announce, lifting the tray up a little bit with a cute smile

“let’s,” you agree, moving onto your knees on the bed as you help him set everything on the bed (and not make a mess) 

once you both get situated 

let the quiet ambiance of the night lull you to romance

and feed each other chocolate covered strawberries

everything feels like it falls into place

[chainofclovers]

It’s been awhile since I used my tumblr for unhinged thoughts about Jane Fonda, so let’s go! (All screencaps from her July 19, 2020 blog post.)

First things first. She watches Dead to Me!

Someone asked her in the comments about the Jen + Grace and Judy + Frankie parallels, and she said

which is hilarious to me but also very adorable. No one is like Grace and Frankie! 

People on the internet are responding to this like “wow, she goes to bed at 6:30″ but going to BED is not the same thing as going to SLEEP! Also, I will never forget (although I can’t find the exact quote) reading a much older blog entry  with this sort of throwaway detail about how Richard Perry didn’t really like watching TV with her. Can you imagine having the opportunity to wind down your day at 7 p.m. with an Academy Award-winning actress who just wants to smoke pot (implied) and hang out with a dog and watch excellent TV shows...and throwing it away because you “don’t” “like” “TV”? 

Anyway, she can do whatever she wants, and this blog continues to be very relatable:

Trying to figure out what books are on people’s shelves *is* the best!

Also relatable but for sad reasons: not being able to regularly see family members and not being able to hug them because our stupid government “reopened” the country in the middle of a global pandemic, effectively rendering the middle of the pandemic the nightmarish beginning of a much longer pandemic! I miss my family too. A lot.

Finally, Jane posted a picture of her lunch and people attacked her on Instagram for eating tuna even though she’s said 8 million times that she rarely eats meat and doesn’t eat as much fish anymore either. There are many perfectly lovely vegans in this world, and I really do understand why they are vegan but there’s a really specific branch of vegans whose priorities are so off that it seems like a good idea to tell an 82-year-old responsible omnivore who struggled with an ED for decades and who is singlehandedly bringing the internet back to the personal blog golden era of 2004 that she can’t be an environmental activist because her lunch includes fish as a protein source.

In much more exciting news, she or her assistant used a label maker to label that lemon mousse. GAME CHANGER!

(OK, I feel better now. I read Jane’s blog every week or two and normally have my usual “Jane Fonda is great” thoughts but this weekend’s blog was just so notably personal-blog-from-2004 in its tone and content that I just had to share my feelings in response!!!!)

[beauty-grace-outer-space]

Things I Have Learned Help My ADHD/Anxiety/Depression Brain In the Past Week: 

- Going to bed early. I’m talking asleep by 10:30. 

- Waking up early. When I go to sleep early, I naturally wake up around 7 or 7:30.

- Designated morning snuggle time with my pupper.

- Eating breakfast. I got some of those Belvita breakfast bars and I keep them on hand for early morning eating. 

- Wash face a LOT. Wake up? Wash face. Middle of the day? Wash face. Getting ready for bed? Wash face. Helps refresh me and is oddly refocusing and skin looks/feels better. 

- Getting to work early. Waking up early means getting to work early and it’s nice to have 15-30 minutes alone in my office to make a list of what I want to accomplish that day and set up a plan for getting it done. 

- Two monitor screens at work for multitasking/added productivity. Just got one this week and oh man game changer. 

- Notebooks everywhere. Nightstand, car, purse, desk... just... notebooks. If I have a thought or idea that I can’t address at that moment, I jot it down and come back to it. Helps with productivity, too. 

- Not talking to negative people. Just... I mean this one should have been a no brainer but-- here we are. 

- Fresh sheets/towels/linens. Ya’ll, I washed my freakin’ shower curtain this weekend. Everything smells so nice and is so soft. 

- Candles. I’ve been lighting nice smelling candles when I cook, while I clean, if I’m just having downtime in my room... I just have to make sure I blow them out before I move on to the next thing. 

- Turning off the news. Another no brainer but... duh. Here we are. 

- Classical music. I’ve always liked it but rarely ever listen to it because my mom hates it. But you know, I got a cd player/radio for my room and I’ve been listening to some favorites while I clean and make plans etc. It’s nice. 

- Moving things, but only slightly. I reorganized some cupboards and it’s like “wow new house!!” only it’s not. Just spicin’ it up a bit. 

I’m hopeful that if I can continue waking up a bit earlier, I can start working in a morning walk with the pupper as well, which would make my morning routine: wake up, wash face, clean retainer, eat breakfast and have a glass of water, walk pupper for 15-20 minutes, head to work 15-30 minutes early, and then the work day officially begins! 

[harry-sussex]

Wow you really do applaud the bare minimum and basic stuff Kate does. What about Meghan who acturally has done shit? Like who had a careeer and did stuff for charity. This fandom loves white mediocrity. Kate hasn’t done shit. She hasn’t even done that much this year. She was gone for a whole month this year. But yeah white duchess is perfect. Bi racial duchess is BAD.

Wow, I am so fucking tired of hearing that Kate didn’t do anything before her marriage.  Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, it would have been very difficult for Ms. Catherine Middleton to get neck-deep into a career?  Think about it:

She falls in love with William Wales who just happens to be the future King when she is hardly 19 years old - still a child in a lot of ways.  They break up briefly when she is 25 - six years later.  I don’t know if you’ve ever dated someone for six years, but I have, and let me tell you - the marriage/”where is our future going” conversation comes up a lot.  Especially if marriage means one half of the couple giving up their right to privacy, their career, their home, just about everything while the other gets to keep everything he’s ever had.  In those six years, Kate probably knew that she couldn’t launch herself into a career the same way other 19-25 year olds do because she basically knew that someday it would be all for naught, that she’d have to abandon everything she worked so hard for for the sake of the man she loved and the institution into which he was born.  It’s not like she was strapped for cash.

Then, they famously, and briefly, break up.  Catherine Middleton’s entire life plan (one that she and William created together for six years) has been thrown for a loop because now she has to figure out something else to do instead of being a future Duchess of Cambridge, Princess of Wales, and Queen Consort.  So she launches herself into the Sisterhood Challenge, which was not only an extraordinary physical endeavor, but also raised money for the Babes in Arms charity - which focuses on combating birth defects in newborns - and The CHASE Ben Hollioake fund - which focuses on supporting children’s hospice care.  Do you know what two of Kate’s biggest causes are today, 12 years later?  You got it - early childhood healthcare and hospice care.

Then, they get back together, and I can imagine they had a conversation that “this time, it’s for the long haul.”  What was she supposed to do?  Start working in a museum in Florence?  Go on a mission trip?  Do you have any idea the kind of strain her presence - unprotected, as just a girlfriend, by the royal family - would have had on communities already suffering and struggling to maintain resources?  The presence of not only her, but the paparazzi that followed her endlessly, would have put immense pressure on struggling communities:

Why is it any concern to you what she did before her marriage?  She was a private citizen.  She could have lounged by the pool 365 days a year, margarita in hand, flipping through gossip magazines, and eating crepes for breakfast and that still wouldn’t, like, disqualify her or anything from being a Duchess.  Wanna know why?  Because the only qualification for somebody like Ms. Catherine Middleton to become a Duchess is to marry Prince William.  And that’s exactly what she did.  William fell in love with her and the rest is history - nearly twenty years later.  If it’s good enough for him, then it’s good enough for anyone else - including you.

Now, onto “Kate hasn’t done shit.”  Really?  In the past 18 months alone, Catherine has:

Received the Royal Family Order of Queen Elizabeth II

Been appointed as a Dame Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order (the highest order given by HM)

Received a 67-year-long patronage from the Queen

Tons of other things I’m getting tired of repeating

She’s developed initiatives and attached her name, face, title, and presence to some of the UK’s best causes.  She’s by all accounts brilliant, compassionate, keen to learn, inquisitive, dedicated, and interested to her causes.  

A quote from Professor Peter Fonagy, the CEO of the Anna Freud Centre, one of Kate’s patronages:

“The Duchess has a serious and professional interest in children’s mental health which has been a game changer.  She has boosted our profile exponentially and has had a huge role in raising the national awareness in the mental health of children. As far as we are concerned she’s the most important woman doing this in the world right now. To the millions of children who have been suffering in silence, she is their voice.”

Catherine has three young children and likely several years before she will be married to the heir.  What good is being a princess if she’s not afforded the simple luxury of being able to parent her children while they’re still small?  If it’s good with the Queen (it is, or else it wouldn’t be happening), then it’s good with me, and once again, it should be good with you.

This fandom loves Kate because she’s sweet, smart, strong, caring, and compassionate.  She is a wonderful wife, mother, sister, daughter, and ambassador to the Royal Family.  The world is exceptionally lucky to have her.  That’s why we love her.  Black, white, purple, doesn’t matter - that’s why we love her.

Now, onto Meghan.  First of all, fuck you for those comments.  I spend hours and hours of my life defending Meghan from the vile things people say about her online.  I have an entire tag devoted to defending both her and Kate.  Meghan is incredible in her own right.  She’s sweet, kind, dedicated, compassionate, interested, and determined.  She has a backbone of steel - in the face of prejudice worldwide, she stood loudly and proudly in front of the world’s audience and dedicated the rest of her life in love to a British prince as a biracial divorced American actress.  That takes strength unlike anything I could probably imagine.  

She has done incredible, incredible things in her life, both before becoming a royal and after.  I had high expectations for her going into her marriage to Prince Harry and she has exceeded every last one of them.  As a woman who is attacked daily for the skin and circumstances into which she was born, whose new life is nothing if not foreign to her, she is excelling, thriving, even - in the face of the millions of people rooting for her to fail.  The Duchess of Sussex is incredible.  Anyone with eyes can see that.

Catherine’s successes do not have to supercede Meghan’s and Meghan’s successes do not have to supercede Kate’s.  They are each wonderful, successful, beautiful, and brilliant in their own rights.  You call yourself an ally?  You call yourself a fan?  Then do not come here and tear down one of them to bring the other up.  You think Meghan would like how you’re speaking about the only sister she truly has?  I don’t.  Not at all.

Never, ever come back here again with this attitude.  Never.  Those are my girls - I’d go to battle for both of them.  Get the fuck out of here.  Not in my house.

[saelwen]

The Last Dragon

Daenys Targaryen x Thranduil

Crossover: Game of Thrones and LOTR/Hobbit

Chapter4

Masterlist

Summary:After Daenerys death, her daughter Daenys, flew away with Drogon. Feeling lost with out her mother beside her, but what will happen when Daenys find a portal that will lead her to a certain world, where dwell elves, dwarves, humans and other races.

Warnigs: None

Words:2k

We follow the eagles for a while, during the trip Drogon always flew high in the air, for the dwarfs not see us yet. After two hours of flying, the eagles land on a giant rock, letting the dwarfs and hobbit climb down of they back. Oh God...this is it! I hope they don’t faint. I look back to Gandalf “Are you sure about this?” I ask with worried voice, he took a deep breath “Yes...it’s the only way that they can reclaim the lonely mountain.” I nod and order Drogon to land in front of them.

As Drogon was landing, I could hear the dwarfs screaming and yell to prepare to fight. Oh boy, this is going to be good...Drogon roars to them, making them shaking on they boots. Gandalf climb off from Drogon and walk to the dwarfs “Calm down, boys! Everything it’s okay!” he warns them. Thorin jumps in front of the group with rage on his eyes “What is this, Gandalf?! You infiltrate a spy of the Dark Lord?!” he growls, Gandalf sighs “She is not a spy of Dark Lord, Thorin Oakenshield! She is here to help you reclaim Erebor and you will need her and Drogon helps!” he says firmly to the stubborn dwarf. I stay on Drogon back all the time, hearing the two arguing, all the sudden I notice Bilbo walking slowly to Drogon, looking to him in awe. He lifts his hand, trying to pet the dragon snout. I order Drogon to low his head and let Bilbo pet him, a small smile forms on the hobbit face when his hand touch the warm scales “Wow...He’s so warm...” he whispers, almost to himself.  

Suddenly Bilbo was pull off the dragon by Dwalin “Don’t touch that beast, Bilbo! He might eat your hand!” he says a while looking to me with disgust in his eyes, my blood start boiling as I heard the word ‘Beast’ “Do not call him beast, dwarf! He is my family!” I growl to him, a while Drogon begin growling to the company as he feels my anger rise inside me. Thorin pick his sword “Calm this beast right now! I should have known that you didn’t seem right...your name..your appearance..the way you fight! I should have said no when you enter Bilbo house!” he growls to me with venom on his words. Gandalf looks to me with worried eyes, I look down to my hands, feeling hurt by his words “Go back to your cave, you beasts! You are no longer on this quest!...Leave now, you dragon banger!” with those words, a wave of anger and rage run through me “DO NOT TALK TO ME LIKE THAT! YOU FILTHY DWARF!” I yell to him. Thorin froze with my words, he looks up to me with rage in his eyes, burning with blazing fire.  

He grabs tightly the handle of his sword and charge to me and Drogon, lifting his sword high in the air to try stab Drogon. The company begin yelling for him to stop and Gandalf try to grab him but as Thorin came closer of Drogon, he was push back with the force of Drogon roar. The dwarfs grab Thorin arms and pull him to them, then he looks to me with hate “I don’t want to see you in front of me never again!” with that he and the company begin to leave, walking towards Erebor. Bilbo meet my gaze and gave me a sad smile, Gandalf walk to me “Don’t listen to him. That dwarf head is hard as a stone. He will accept you...don’t worry.” I nod and try to clean some tears that had fall down my cheeks, “I know...but it hurts. Everyone I know is afraid of me and ...of my house. I’m tired of to be a frighten person...” Gandalf sighs “You aren’t a frighten person, Daenys. People only fear the things that they don’t understand...Give time to the dwarfs. Fly in the direction of that forest, there you will find a skin changer, Beorn. He will help you.” I nod but look at him confused “But what about the quest? Am I really out of the group?” I ask worried “No, you are not. We will meet you there with the skin changer. Now go!” with that I order Drogon to fly us there. I look down as I pass by the dwarfs, who look up to me with a shocked look. Ahhh....That didn’t go well as I thought...

                                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After sometime of flying, I see a cabin with some animals there. Drogon lands in front of the cabin and as I was climbing down, a huge man walks out from the house. He was wearing some old clothes, with some holes and dirt on them. His face was almost all cover with hair, I took a step forward, not very far from Drogon “Are you Beorn?” I ask, he nods “Yes...and you are Daenys Targaryen, Gandalf send me a message talking about you. Come in...your friend can hide on a cave not far from here.” I nod and thank him. I turn to Drogon “Go hide in the cave, my friend. I will find when it’s time to go.” I say to him a while petting his warm scales. Then I walk to the cabin, following Beorn.  

Inside the cabin, there were a bunch of animals, cows, goats, some horses and other animals. Beorn led me to a wood table and serve me some hot milk “Here..Drink, it will help you relax.” I grab the cup and start drinking. As I was drinking, I notice on his wrist a metal chain and some scars along his arms. Looking down to my cup, I try to not look to them, knowing that will cause him feel uncomfortable “Thank you for your hospitality. You are very kind, sir.” I say with a warm smile on my lips, he nods and walk to the front door “Your welcome...you can rest on the straw over there...Also don’t come out of the house at night, it’s dangerous.” with that he leaves the house. A sigh falls from my lips, I hope the company was okay! Even if they all hate me, I still worry about them.

Putting the cup on the table, I walk to the pile of straw beside of the goats, petting one on the head, I lie down, feeling my body melt. Closing my eyes, I let sleep take over me, leading me to the realm of dreams.

                                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days have pass and there wasn’t any sight of the company. I spend my days helping Beorn with the farm work, cleaning the stalls, feeding the animals, letting them go outside during the day. It was a peaceful life here, a life that I would love have in here.  

Beorn was patrolling around the forest, since he smelled the orc pack near. I was giving some carrots to the horses inside the cabin, as all the sudden the front door busted open and the company runs inside. I run to them and saw a large bear head trying to come in but the dwarfs shut the door. They all were catching they breaths that they didn’t notice me standing there, Thorin look to Gandalf “What was that?!” Gandalf supported himself on his staff “That, Thorin Oakenshield, was our host!” everyone looks to each other with a fear on they eyes. I took a step forward, grabbing the company attention “Daenys!!” Bilbo jumps into my arms, hugging me warmly “Hello, Mister Baggins.” I say a while wrapping my arms around him “What is she doing here??” Thorin voice sounded beside me. I lift my gaze from Bilbo and meet his “Thorin...she is not banned of the company. Daenys will come with us even if you like it or not! Now everyone go rest.” Gandalf said firmly to Thorin, then walks to me “It’s good to see you, my child.” he gave me a kiss on my forehead and went sit on a chair.  

The sound of people talking and the animals eating straw woke me up from my lovely sleep, siting up I saw the company on the table eating and Beorn serving them some milk. As I try to stand up, an arm grabs my waist tightly, looking down I saw Bilbo sleeping soundly beside me. A smile forms on my lips, he’s so pure I think to myself. I start shaking him “Bilbo...Bilbo, it’s time to wake up.” I said softly to him, his eyes fluttered open and rub them with his fist “Good morning, Daenys.” he said a while yawning.  

I stand up “Good Morning, Bilbo! Come...Let’s eat something before the dwarfs eat all of it.” I offer my hand to help him up and walk to the table, sitting beside Kili and Fili. Everyone at the table stop talking as them see me, in the corner of my eye I saw Thorin walk away with Dwalin following close behind. I sigh and start eating, ignoring the stares of the dwarfs.

After we were finish, we go outside where ponies and two horses were ready for us “You can take them but set them when you arrive to Greenwood.” Beorn says then he looks to me “Goodbye, little dragon. Remember that you always have a home here.” I smile and hug him tighly “Thank you, Beorn. One day I will take you for a fly.” I joke with them “You should know that a bear is always on the ground.” he said a while ruffling my hair.  

I walk to my horse as the company were waiting for me, as I mount my horse, I heard Drogon roar, looking up I saw him flying around in the air, waiting for us to start moving. Thorin grumbles something under his breath and start trotting, I roll my eyes and order my horse to walk forward.

                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rubbing my eyes, I took a deep breath trying to calm myself “Are we going the right way?” “We are walking in circles!” “I don’t feel so good...” everyone was starting panic. Since we have walk inside the elvish forest, that I don’t have been feeling good. This forest was sick and darkness was killing it, I could feel eyes watching us. A sigh escapes from me, why did you have to leave Gandalf? Now we are lost in this haunted forest. I look around trying to find Bilbo but I didn’t see him anywhere “Wait! Where is Bilbo?” I ask a while a look around but the dwarfs didn’t hear and continue walking. Fuck! Where are you Bilbo?  

Suddenly giant spiders jump from everywhere, attacking us. I grab my daggers and start slashing spider after spider “What the hell is those things?” I ask to Fili, who was also killing spiders, “I don’t know! Can you order your beast to burn those things?” I roll my eyes and continue killing spiders.

As I finish killing one of those creatures, an arrow passes right beside my head, killing a spider behind me. I look up and saw a group of elves killing every single spider around us, I stay still in awe watching them move with such grace, like they were feathers flowing around the air.  

When they finish killing every spider, they walk to us, aiming they arrows to us “Why a group of dwarfs and a female human are in our forest?” an elf with blood hair speak to Thorin “Mind you own business, elf!” he growls to the blood elf, that I think was the leader of the group. The elf rolls his eyes and order to take our weapons, when his gaze met my mine, his body froze. He stays looking at me with a curious look “Where are you from, my lady?” he asked, I look down to Thorin, warning him to not speak about Drogon, “I’m from near the Shire, sir.” I answer him with a calm voice, he nods and looks to the rest of the group “Let’s take them to the King!” he put me and the rest of the company in handcuffs and lead us to the Palace.

After a long walk, we arrive to the Palace. A small gasp fall from my lips as I saw the inside the Palace, it was beautiful! Never in my life I saw a Palace or a castle like this, it was like was build inside a big tree. There is roots and trees everywhere, a big river flows inside the Palace, making a lovely sound. My thoughts were interrupted the blood elf order to take the rest of the company to the dungeons, a while he takes me and Thorin to the King. Nerves begin rise inside, hopping that this would go well and Thorin would not do something stupid.

We enter the Throne room and my breath was taken away from me as I see the person sitting on the Throne. He was with on leg on top the other, slightly shaking his foot. His hair was silver, almost like mine and his eyes were the lightest blue color I ever seen, looking like the blue sky in a cool winter afternoon. His features were sharp, looking almost like a cat. He was gorgeous!

He looks to Thorin when the blood elf presented us “Those are the ones that we found in the forest, adar!” adar? Ohh so he is the Prince...”Why Thorin Oakenshield was in my forest, can I ask?” the king begin walk down the stairs slowly “None of your business!” oh boy...This is going down! The king stops in front of us and look at me, analyzing me from top to bottom “And who is this beauty?” he ask softly, a blush begin spreading on my cheeks “My name is Daenys Targaryen, my King!” I spoke shyly, a while playing with my hands. He stays quiet looking directly to my eyes, like he was trying to find some lie “Very well...I will talk to you later, my Lady! Take her to my guest room!” wait, what!? I look to Thorin with a confused face but he only looks to the King with rage in his eyes. The Prince took away my handcuffs and lead me to my room. Fuck! What’s going on? What will the King do to me?! I took a deep breath and close my eyes, I could feel Drogon near. I sigh as I feel more relax, since Drogon could safe me at any time.

Let’s hope everything would go well and that Gandalf would come safe us.

Hey Guys!! Here new chapter. I hope you are liking this serie and if want to be on taglist, comment down below. Feel free to reblog and tell me what you think!!

XOXO

Taglist: @llama2264​ @tigereyesf​ @yes-captainstark​ @crazyonesarethebest​ @gwendelerynan​ @ultrabumblebeeisus​ @numwoon44​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @foggyturtleknightangel​ @lespaceboi​ @danri-and-thomas​ @shanty-lol​ @peaky-marvel​ @nikipuppeteer​ @ameliana153​

[blackcoffeeandblankpagess]

Hiya chicky! I guess with all that is going on in your life I was wondering how you're doing with your ED recovery? Is intuitive eating going well? It seems like you've reached a place where you're much more relaxed around food and it's so incredibly inspiring. How did you get away from being rigid, measuring all your food, calorie counting, having strict labels, etc? What are the biggest pieces of advice you could giving someone who is trying to get to that place? What steps did you take?

Hello!! This message is sweet

I’m doing…so so. Always on a generally upward trajectory but currently in a little bit of a dip because…stress.

But tips! I gotchu

Literally the best advice I can give you is to pick like…one to three things to focus on at a time and don’t worry about the rest. Like at any given time there are approximately 239823498234923 things I could do better or be less strict about but if I just woke up and said “today i will stop counting calories and stop measuring and never step on a scale again and only move intuitively” my brain would probably explode. I’ve done all of those things pretty much but it was a long slow process to get there. But it works!

You can do this on a big scale like…january first what is my big ED recovery goal for the year or you can pick a few things each week or month. I like to pick like 3 things at the beginning of each month to focus on that month. So like for instance in March two of my goals were: Eat enough (as in, have that extra bedtime snack dammit) and Don’t worry so much about yesterday (as in, when you wake up instead of obsessing over the details of what you ate yesterday before choosing what to eat for breakfast today….just don’t!) If you tell yourself I’m just gonna try this for 30 days…if you ACTUALLY stick with it by the end of the month you’ll be like wow look I’m still alive and noting has changed! and then it seems less scary

Going off of that point, I think the best thing to do is to just force yourself to do things that make you uncomfy and realize over time that literally nothing bad will happen. For instance way back in the day I used to weigh myself every day which was BAD but I was terrified of giving that up because what if I gained a bunch of weight but didn’t check so I didn’t know??? I decided to only weigh myself every few months and realized my weight was basically the same every single time and I did not in fact need to micromanage it to do this. Your body likes homeostasis. Also, I had the astonishing realization that the number actually means nothing. Like if my clothes fit EXACTLY the same and I think I look exactly the same…what would it REALLY mean if the number on the scale was suddenly like 10 pounds more??? It wouldn’t really mean anything. So fuck it. I only know my weight from doctor’s appointments and I usually don’t let myself look at it until like months later so that I’m far enough removed that if it might affect me it won’t but really I just go based off of how my clothes feel etc. because that’s more meaningful than any arbitrary number.

The most recent and I guess one of the biggest hurdles is just letting myself eat whatever I want when I want it. This one is kinda weird because I feel like whenever I thought about eating freely I was like oh well but if I’m eating whatever I want whenever then shouldn’t I put like…27 spoonfuls of cream and sugar in my coffee instead of drinking it black because shouldn’t I theoretically like that more if I’m just doing whatever I want??? But it’s not like that. For me at least it’s more of like, if I go out to eat I expend zero mental energy on thinking about the nutritional content (numbers wise) in food and just get whatever sounds good. It means having a glass or 3 of wine and not worrying about it. It means going out for ice cream even if I’m a little full. What I realized is that (and again, I don’t want to make it sound like gaining weight is bad because it is totally healthy and fine, but I think I thought it was a lot easier to gain weight than it really is (at least for me) and I was holding so tightly onto this grip of “control” for literally no reason) every single time I’ve ever been stressed that I ate too much, etc. nothing ever happens. So then I was like…well wtf I should just do what I want and not stress because there is never ever ever any real impact on my “health” from a food decision so IT’S FINE!. And it is fine! In the fall I ate so much pizza, ice cream, and beer I can’t even tell you and my body stayed the same! Your body doesn’t want to change radically unless you are doing something radical! (this is not to say that if you are underweight you won’t gain weight because again, your body wants to find it’s healthy spot) but I think the current culture has brainwashed us into thinking if we eat 1 cookie that isn’t paleo-gluten free-insert more BS here- we will gain like 500 pounds over night or be “unhealthy” like wtf! eat what you want! it’s fine!

Maybe my opinion is skewed because 9 times out of 10 I am eating mostly veggies, fruit, oatmeal, whatever. But I never deprive myself of something if I’m craving it. I’ve eaten ice cream or cookies or brownies for dessert almost every night for the past few months just because. It’s fine! 

I feel like I got off topic but my point is that you really need to just let yourself live the way you envision your ideal relationship with your food and body because even though that might sound terrifying, you will probably realize that you can actually eat the way you want and the world won’t end and then POOF! It becomes infinitely more easier to eat that way in the future because you have gone through it and seen first hand that nothing crazy happens and you don’t need to be super rigid! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, my stress fracture was really the game changer for me. I sat on my butt for months, drank more beer, ate more cheese fries at midnight with my friends, and my body didn’t change. I was like WTF! I could have been doing this all along!

And it makes me nervous to say that because I don’t want it to sound like it would have been bad if my body did change because that is okay but I think most people coming from an ED think if they deviate even the slightest bit from their rigid routine their body will change in some drastic way and it just isn’t true. I think this fear comes from the fact that a lot of people with EDs do live in extremes, with starving, binging, purging, etc. etc. so we are used to our bodies changing frequently but in reality if you aren’t living in an extreme way, your body is not going to keep fluctuating in extremes (**I understand this is a generalization I feel like it’s almost impossible to talk on this subject without generalizing to some extent so if you do not fit into this mold I see you! I’m just talk from personal experience)

Okay I just read this over and I feel like I was really harping on the idea of don’t worry! your body won’t change in an extreme way! and you could argue that maybe the more important thing to realize is that it’s okay if your body does change, and there are much more important things in life, etc. etc. but…I feel like most of us understand those things intuitively, it’s just that that fear is still there. idk! idk the right thing to say! also...it’s totally normal for your bod to change throughout your life, it’s okay! I just think that a lot of us have a deep fear that if we eat a little differently suddenly things are going to change like...over night which is just not the case. I feel like I literally need to write a novel to get this point across correctly *is stressed*

Two really good resources for this- 1. The book “The Fuck It Diet” 2. The blog The Real Life RD 

Okay, that’s a lot. One step at a time.

[gucciwins]

World Cup - Lyon, France

Y/N roots for USA and Harry is the best

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: The World Cup is my favorite. Harry is also add them together and it is a match made in heaven. The perfect opportunity presented itself and I could not let it go by. England vs. USA was an intense match but these teams played their heart out. 

Happy Reading !

July 2, 2019 11:00 am

You have the TV turned on to Fox Sports channel and are listening to the commentary before game time. Harry is upstairs doing god knows what but he said he would join you shortly. You think he agreed to join you because you made your famous cheese dip that he seems to enjoy. 

Honestly, you don’t think you will be eating at all this game. Not because you don’t want to ruin your USA jersey that proudly shows of number 17 and Heath across your back but because this game has you anxious and really want your team to make it to the finals. 

Harry told you it was just futbol but for you it was more than that. It is the sport you have played since you were six years old. The sport that made you strong and reminded you why friendship and teamwork is important. That communication is the key to success in everything you do. Overall, it shaped you to be the person you are today. Harry cried when you finished explaining what it meant to you and then agreed to watch it with you. 

You were upset that you couldn’t go to France for this world cup. Harry saw how upset you got when friend’s of yours sent you videos and pictures because you couldn’t make the trip due to a work issue that finally got resolved last week. It bummed you out but what did make you cry is when your friends got their Jersey signed by Christen Press and Alex Morgan. 

You claimed something was in your eye but Harry felt your pain. He promised to himself that he would go with you to the next one no matter where it was. Honestly, it led to some mind blowing sex. If you asked Harry.

11:55 am

“God Save the Queen” starts to play and you are staring in awe at the television. The stadium is packed in Lyon. You sing along quietly to “The Star-Spangled Banner”. You look at the starting line up and can’t help but smile at these twenty two women  who are about to fight for a spot to the finals.

This will be a long 90 minutes.

1’

“HARRY!” you yell wanting him to come as it’s starting.

“I’m coming, love.” He says sitting next to you pulling you close.

“What were you doing up there?” You question not looking away from the screen in front of you.

“I had some phone calls to make.” He reassured you.

Rose Lavelle cut of a player and in she goes. She crosses and it’s blocked. You jump up from your spot and startle Harry. 

“Wow, that was a close one.” Harry chuckles and rubs your arm gently calming you instantly. 

“Good thing I don’t got any popcorn in my lap or it would have gone flying” Harry jokes and you can’t help but laugh. 

There is not much talk from you anymore mostly listening to the commentators and what they think of this game.  

“I have a question.” Harry begins. He’s sees that you won’t answers and keeps talking. “Why do they-“

“YES!!!” you scream. “Goal, you go Press!” You cut Harry off but that goal was beautiful. Rose Lavelle let the ball go allowing O’Hara to send a beautiful cross and Christen Press was there to header it into the back of the net. 

You sit there looking at the replay and just stare at awe in that teamwork. This team needs to stay strong to make it through. 

“Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to interrupt but it was bad timing.” You lean over to give him a kiss. Harry pouting not used to sharing your attention. 

“I just wanted to know why the US has different captains.” 

“Oh, they got co-captains. Morgan and Rapinoe lead the team but only have one on the actual field. Like in high school I was co-captain with Tiff and we passed it onto the next who had the potential and the growth we saw in ourselves.” Harry gives you a forehead kiss and thanks you quietly.

“Did you see that shot? Lavelle, needs to be kept tight or she will score. Fast and agile she needs to be marked good.”

18’

A long beautiful cross and and another one to center field. White gets a touch on it and in it goes. 

You sit there shocked. That was a nice play but the US’s mistake was leaving them open. Harry waits for you to freak out and yell at the TV.

“Nice goal. This game is only going to get tougher.” You see that Harry is surprised at how calm you are. 

“H, me yelling at a television does nothing.” He chuckles and you both continue to view the match. 

“Oh hell no!” You yell. “Not a penalty. Don’t go there, England. You are better than that.” 

25’

“Oh my Alex is down.” Harry is confused at how you see that. 

Two players going for the ball and getting headed by a head rather than a ball can leave you hurting. She gets checked on and looks away. 

“It’s her birthday, love.” Harry nods his head to Alex Morgan.

“Yeah, could be a good or bad day for her.” You tell him. 

“I wouldn’t like to play on my birthday. Years later I’d remember that day forever if it was a bad time.”

You laugh at him. “At least the type of playing you do always leads to good memories.” You remind him. 

30’

Horan has the ball. She sends a cross into the box and Alex Morgan is there to finish the job. 

“GOAL!!!!” The television yells. “A very happy birthday for Alex Morgan.” 

You sit there shocked. Not expecting that at all. Harry can’t help but get excited because he may not know who to root for but he can celebrate a nice goal.

“This is too much.” You look over at Harry tears in your eyes. “This will hurt if we lose.”

Harry feels for his love. He knows what it is like to be all in for a team but mostly a passion. This is your passion that you care for. “I’m here to support you, love.” 

40’

Smack to the face. Bright arm up hits Morgan in the face. 

“Hey, that’s a yellow.” Harry yells.

You snicker quietly but Harry nods proudly when he sees the yellow given to Bright. 

Right after Horan and Scott are in a foul. It looks bad on both sides but England is given the kick. 

“This game is getting dirty.” Harry agress and says he doesn’t like it as well. 

45’

The whistle is blown and that is halftime. You sit back and breathe. You look over at Harry and smile at him. 

“That is what I call intense.” Harry says to you.

You laugh but agree with him. You get up and stretch your hands over you head. Walking towards the restroom. 

“H, this is break time. Use it. Don’t think I’m letting you get up second half.” You tell him with a smile.

“Can we do other fun stuff during this time?” He yells at you. 

“Get me a drink and refill the chips you finished and we’ll see.”

Harry could not move any quicker.

45’

“Harry.” He doesn’t answer and keeps kissing your neck. You are enjoying this, but the game is on in like a minute. 

“Harry!” You exclaim pulling his hair that makes him let out a loud moan. “The game started. Keep your hands to yourself.” 

He pulls away and sits on the other side of the couch. “Fine, no kisses or cuddles for you.”

“H, it goes both ways. You know that.” Not looking away from the screen. Wincing out loud when you see what almost played out a goal against your team. 

55’

You lean in closer seeing the Lavelle sprinting down the center of the field the ball at her feet. She never gets the chance to do much with three around her. 

You sit back defeated. 

You start getting a bit thirsty and reach for the Ginger Ale Harry brought for you when he moves it out of reach. 

“No, drink for you.” He tells you. You sit back upset but decide not to fight him on it. “No chips neither. I got those.” 

You look over at him and smile. He doesn’t like this smile. 

“No dip for you, I made it.” Harry grows sad quickly.

“Can we talk this out?” 

You dip a finger in the delicious cheese dip. You pop the finger in your mouth and pull it out slowly.

“I don’t think so.” You saw with a smirk and look away.

Harry sits there upset. What else is he supposed to do, he got himself in this mess. 

65’

Lavelle is subbed out for Mewis. She did well but it gets tough being a target. Right after O’Hara is fouled outside the box. Heath is taking the shot. It does not lead to a goal but it was beautiful.

“Why is Heath your favorite?” Harry questions knowing it could make you happy talking about a player you like.

Before you can think to answer. England scores. You sit back not knowing what to do. You stare at the replay and see Scott give the small touch and White takes the lead and gets it past Naeher. 

You and Harry sat in silence for the next minute when you hear the commenters say that it will be watched back by VAR because it could be offside. 

You wait and wait when finally it is announced that White was offside. You don’t know what to do in this situation. You hate this but you also don’t want to celebrate a goal being taken away. VAR is new technology that is definitely changing the game. 

“Do you want a cuddle?” Harry asks because he can feel the stress you feel from where he’s sitting. You nod quietly and he moves closer. 

You lay your head on his chest and curl your legs close. “I always want cuddles.” 

75’

This heatwave has not been kind to Europe. You’re thankful you don’t play but what a dream it would be to play on the USA team or at least meet them and tell them how awesome they are doing not only for the game but for women and fighting for equality.

Heath is out for Lloyd and you hope this hero can score. Grand applause for both but you are nervous for what the call may be prior to the subbing. It didn’t look like a penalty but it could be called as anything.

“Harry, hold me tighter.” You say.

“I got you, love. No matter what it is you’ll team will be fine.”

82’ 

A penalty is given and Sauerbrunn receives a yellow. You don’t like this one bit. This changes everything. 

You sit there wrapped up in the safest arms on earth and watch what could be a game changer.

Houghton, England’s captain takes the shot but it is blocked.  Naeher saves the US from a goal. USA celebrates  quickly and is ready for the attack. 

You let out a breath you were holding. Harry rubs his hand up and down your back. “All good, love.” He reminds you. “Let’s hope they stay strong.”

85’ 

England is getting a bit dirty but you think nothing of it. Bright and Morgan go for a ball and Bright hits her in the shin. A straight yellow, it seems show doesn’t remember the previous yellow before until she’s told and the England player gets the red. 

Well shit, you think. 

“Harry, Krieger is going in.” You tell him although he could see this.  You were just excited to finally get her on the field. She is also one of your favorites. That worn out jersey in your closet it proof. 

“She’s great, Jill Ellis doesn’t play her much anymore.” 

Morgan is fouled again. You're not surprised many have said Alex Morgan is the one to watch with and without the ball. England is not taking any chances.

90’

Harry seems to hold onto you tighter waiting for the whistle to blow expect it doesn’t.

“Why are we still going?” Harry questions.

“Extra time for what was stopped during the game. Stoppage time and such.” You explain.

“Okay, we can do this.” He tells you.

“We” you tease.

“Yes, after all this stress it’s we.” You snuggle closer and place a kiss on his chest letting him know you like that. 

Parris is a strong player but you are surprised at the fouls she is doing. The pressure is making her crack. 

England has control of the ball but does not use it well. You don’t know what to do. Expect wait for time to stop. 

Dunn gets head on ball and gets it out. Foul after foul USA and England both don’t stop fighting. 

96’

With seconds left, you sit up but Harry doesn’t let you go. You are waiting for the sweet sound of the whistle to blow. Come on. Come on. Blow it already.

The referee blows the whistle loud and clear. You stand up quickly and run around the living room. Yelling a bunch of nonsense.

Harry sits at the couch looking at you with the biggest smile on his face. You’ve got too much energy and there is only one person who can help you properly to release it.

You stop cheering and lock eyes with Harry. In the next few seconds you are wrapped up in his arms. Kissing him with all the joy that is running through your veins.

Harry pulls away. His pink lips swollen but a large smile on his face.  He runs his thumb down your cheek and lets out a dimpled smile when you kiss his thumb. 

“Do you fancy a small holiday, love?” He asks. 

“With you, anywhere in the world.” You promise him.

“How does Lyon, France sound?” He says with the biggest smirk on his face. “I have two tickets reserving us seats for the final.”

You stare at him in shock. Harry did what. You can’t believe he did this for you.

“Will you were a jersey for me?” That is the first thing out of your mouth.

“Why of course.” He says with a smirk. “Horan, on my back will make everyone go crazy.” You laugh at how cheesy he is.

Lyon here we come.

Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed reading it. Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.

[takerfoxx]

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Season 4, Episode 8, First Impressions!

Can’t they just have a good time for once?

So Boy’s Night Out is an episode that attracted my attention ever since it was announced. At first I was looking forward to the boys of the group going out to paint the town red in their solo episode (yes, even Swift Wind, because I do want to like him), but then I kept hearing rumblings that this episode might be a major game changer for the plot, so I figured that it would do the same as Princess Prom and drop a big twist that will kickstart the plot.

The truth turned out to be somewhere in between.

When we start out, things are just a mess. The Horde, having overrun the Salineas capital, is now trampling Bikini Bott-I MEAN the smaller settlements, and the princess squad is trying to at least evacuate everyone that they can. Unfortunately, though DT has been caught (and unfortunately is only referenced in this episode), the damage left in their wake has not been undone. Or maybe they aren’t really to blame for this. DT stirred the pot, sure, but the issues between Glimmer and Adora are of their own making, and are only getting worse. Plus, you know, Mermista’s kind of a self-pitying wreck due to her whole kingdom being conquered and her people slaughtered, captured, or at the very least driven from their homes, so that’s still a thing. 

So can you really blame the boys for wanting to just take a break for one night? Go out, get some space between them and the drama (and bloodshed and horror), have some fun, mentally decompress and all that? And hey, Sea Hawk and Bow always make for a great comedic duo (even if Bow isn’t feeling it at first). And also Swift Wind’s there, because he is now designated as my official punching bag. So yeah.

Still, we actually only get on actual scene of the boys out on the town (accompanied by a catchy number) before we find out what this episode is really about: dissolving friendships, and how hard they are to repair.

The big one is Adora and Glimmer of course. I mean, Sea Hawk hatched his whole crazy “Let’s kidnap ourselves!” scheme to make them reconcile. But at the end of the day, it still didn’t address the underlying problems, and they remain estranged. You know, I’d say I’m not worried because it’s a kid show so of course they’ll reconcile, but this show has thrown curveballs at me before, so...

Another broken friendship that is addressed is Catra and Scorpia. And as it turns out, Catra still hasn’t noticed that Scorpia left! And she still expected Scorpia to just show up to hang out when Catra did feel like spending time with her. It just goes to show just how much Catra took her for granted. She never actually expected for Scorpia to be driven away by her mistreatment. No, the ever-loyal Scorpia was just going to take her punches and always be for her in the end!

Well, as it turns out, her toxic behavior has consequences, and Catra has finally realized that she managed to drive away the only person that has ever accepted her unconditionally. That look on her face as she reads Scorpia’s note says it all. Will Catra finally, finally, finally have an epiphany on how bad she’s gotten, or will she continue to live in denial and double down on her self-destructive course?

All signs point to the latter.

At the very least, Sea Hawk got Mermista to snap out of her funk. I mean, don’t get me wrong, her sobbing to herself in the bathtub while eating tub after tub of ice cream was totally justified, but she still had a duty to her people. You know, this show has never really made their relationship clear. Are they like actually dating? I mean, Sea Hawk swoons over her pretty constantly, and there was that, ahem, Tunnel of Love incident, but other times it seems that he just think that she’s really cool and wants to be her friend? Well, whatever, they’re together again, complete with a rock remix of Sea Hawk’s shanty, so at least someone had a happy ending.

All that being said, the part that really got to me was Bow’s little breakdown. He’s had to be the glue holding everything for so long, the Superego to Glimmer’s Id and Adora’s Ego. He’s had to be the peacemaker, the one working extra hard to help other people work out their problems, and that’s just so exhausting! So it was kind of wonderful that the show acknowledged this and showed how much being that kind of person really wears you down. So I don’t blame Bow for cracking, and I’m glad that they showed that. 

Anyway, things feel like they’re going to really heat up soon, so here’s a few misc. moments that got a giggle out of me:

The songs in general.

All all sailors hate Sea Hawk because he burned their ships down too!

“Why do I hear the ocean?”

SEAGULLS!

As soon as I heard Admiral Scurvy’s name, I knew that he had to be a repurposed character from the original show. And I was right. And his old design...is kind of a lot.

Wow.