#'he's a grafter but would never admit it'

[elenchi]

Any Road Will Get Us There (If We Don't Know Where We're Going)

Meet the High Flying Birds

[markowendiary-blog]

🆕 Boy band? We're a dad band now! They’ve got 10 children between them, so what ARE Take That's parenting secrets? | Daily Mail/ Event Magazine

«Just a few months shy of their 30th anniversary, the remaining three members of Take That are gathered in a south London photo studio. Bar the row of drivers parked outside in Mercedes cars and the silent but notable presence of a single security guy, the vibe is casual, low-key, with that prickle of electricity that always hovers around a band that’s sold 45 million records.

I have known Gary Barlow, Mark Owen and Howard Donald since they were pop wannabes, travelling round the UK in the back of a van, existing on McDonald’s and takeaways. Back then – along with original members Robbie Williams and Jason Orange – they were five northern kids full of bravado, hair gel and ambition. Now they are men, all over 40, and all three fathers – two (Barlow and Donald) with teenagers of their own. All three are sporting facial hair, and flashes of grey are visible – as is that easy northern wit that kept them – even at the height of their pin-up fame in the mid-Nineties – so relatable. The fast food is a distant memory – a table in the corner is scattered with fresh fruit, herbal teas, vegetable juices, nuts, a half-eaten bar of chocolate and raw carrots. Times and diets have changed.

‘Jason was always into his health,’ says Owen. ‘We used to call it rabbit food. Now we’re all into it. But me and Howard still go for the Cadbury’s Dairy Milk.’

Barlow, slim and ramrod straight in his cream polo-neck jumper, crosses the room immediately to make his greetings and to find out what I think of their new album. It’s a selection of their greatest hits that have been – in the case of songs like Pray and Never Forget – completely rearranged with new and old vocals mixed together and different productions all devised by the band. The record also includes voice recordings from all five of the band, snatches of interviews they gave at the start of their career.

‘All bands hate greatest hits albums, and we wanted to do something different,’ says Barlow. ‘We wanted to reflect who we were at the start of this journey and who we are now.’ Owen nods. ‘All our albums are like our babies, something we’ve created together,’ he says. ‘We want people to love it.’

They are crammed together on a squishy black leather sofa that’s seen better days. Oldham-born Owen has been showing me pictures on his phone of a very nasty recent surfing accident he had, where his bloodied leg was cut to pieces. Barlow takes a look and raises an eyebrow. ‘Remember we’ve got a tour to do,’ he says in his laconic flat Frodsham accent. ‘There’s only three of us left, we can’t afford to lose any more.’

They are promoting a tour and an album but what we’re really here to talk about today is fatherhood and the fact that they are no longer a boy band but grown men with families – though they each have a very different style of parenting.

There is the action dad, who takes his children on adrenaline-fuelled holidays, the indulgent dad, who spoils his children rotten, and the dead-on-his-feet dad, who is currently struggling with the demands of a new born child. We’re going to meet them all.

First up is Donald, who’s the oldest band member at 50, but the one with the youngest child. Donald has four children: Grace, 19, his eldest daughter by his ex, Victoria Piddington, at university in Bournemouth; Lola, 13, who grew up in Germany, is from a long-term relationship with businesswoman Marie-Christine Musswessels; and his two baby sons, two-year-old Bowie and one-year-old Dougie from his marriage to illustrator Katie Halil. The knackered dad apologises for being tired.

‘I’ve had three-and-a-half hours’ sleep,’ he says. ‘The baby was up in the night. My wife said she’d get up with him because I had a photo-shoot but when he kicked off she was dead to the world, so I was running up and down taking him to the loo and looking after him.’ He pauses. ‘This is it for me. I’m too old to be a dad any more. I can’t have any more. It’s just too bloody hard.’

Barlow rolls his eyes and Owen laughs. Like the brown paper bags from Whole Foods that have replaced the Big Mac cartons, the conversation in the inner circle has changed over time. It used to be girls, chart positions and the latest tech. Now it’s marriage, fatherhood and babies.

‘It’s what we talk about in the dressing room,’ says Barlow. ‘That’s our lives. We’ve changed. We’re not boys, we’re men. We’re all dads. It completely alters everything, from the way you tour to the songs you write to the conversations you have – how long on the iPads, worrying about social media, the usual preoccupations. At the moment it’s a lot about Howard and his baby duties. He moans and Mark and I just laugh because we’re both past that stage. He does love to go on about it.’

Unlike their hard-working parents, each member of the band is a multimillionaire, something they all admit feels ‘strange’ when they compare their children’s lives to their own. The exhausted dad Donald is also the strictest. ‘I want my kids to do Saturday jobs, learn the value of money. My eldest daughter got into this habit of ordering Uber taxis non-stop from my account, which I had to pull her up on. I don’t care what kind of school they go to – state or private – as long as it’s a good school and they work. But I don’t like to spoil them. I went to school with plastic shoes my mum used to polish with Mr Sheen. That stays with you. My kids are lucky – I never want them to lose appreciation for what they have. And my kids are great. My daughter’s a teenager now, she sends me little clips of her and her mates in clubs dancing to Relight My Fire. They all look really happy even if they also look a little bit drunk, but it just makes me laugh.’

Donald’s parental conversation runs the gamut of worrying about Lola being too carried away with the YouTube generation and buying her trainers in return for good schoolwork, to his eldest Grace keeping up with her studies at university. He is very much a hands-on dad, changing nappies one day and dealing with university issues the next. ‘I’m the complicated one,’ he says. ‘I didn’t mean for it to be like this but that’s the way it turned out. That was down to me.’

In many ways he is a more typical rock-star dad. ‘I have a lot of guilt about the way things turned out for me. When we’d be on tour, we’d come back to the dressing room and I knew the other guys were going off back to their families. At the time I had just Grace and Lola and I would be desperate to see them. The fact that I had to fly to Germany to see Lola would cause a lot of band rows because I’d be away. But I didn’t care. I had to see her.

‘I grew up without a dad because he [Keith Donald] left home when I was a kid. He left four kids and my mum [Kathleen] in a two-up two-down. I don’t hold any anger towards him any more. In fact, I actually want to sit down and talk to him about it. But I didn’t want any of my kids not to have a dad present in their lives. If it’s a choice between band or family, family comes first.’

Donald talks about looking after his baby sons when his wife suffered twice from post-pregnancy induced reactive hypoglycemia (a condition that causes sickness, weakness and insomnia) that kicked in after giving birth.

‘My wife wasn’t in a good way so it was down to me,’ he says. ‘There is nothing I don’t do: changing nappies, feeding, winding, walking... My wife is in a good place now and to be honest I don’t feel guilty about going on tour. My kids will come out now and then, but I’m actually thinking of it as a nice break.’

In contrast to Donald is Owen, the action dad – the hippy of the band with a less traditional lifestyle. The 46-year-old has always been the most alternative one, with his cool clothes and penchant for meditation and yoga, which has rubbed off on his bandmates.

He reads books on parenting, moved his three children Elwood, 12, Willow, ten, and six-year-old Fox out of London to live in the Hampshire/Sussex border countryside, and has spent two months of the summer travelling with his family. He has learnt to surf and Elwood has become an expert skateboarder.

‘It’s been good for us as a family,’ he says. ‘I feel we are in a position now where we’re getting it right as musicians and as parents. And that feels good.

‘When the children were little, it was easier to bring them on tour, but now they have school, friends, routines and they don’t want to be hanging out in dressing rooms all day. So it changes.’

You might imagine their own children look up to them, these guys who came from the working-class north and became one of Britain’s biggest boy bands, winning eight Brit awards and earning millions from hits such as Back For Good, Shine and A Million Love Songs. But their musical accomplishments don’t give them any credibility with their offspring, as Owen admits.

‘Honestly, it doesn’t really impress them. All of our kids love coming to the shows but they are not in awe of us. My dad [Keith] was a grafter. He worked early shifts as a decorator and would be home at 3.30 and he cooked our tea, and my mum [Mary] went out to work [in a bakery] till 11.30.

‘My dad was also in a local band, so every week he’d put on his good trousers, pick up his guitar case and walk out of the door, and I don’t think either me or my brother or sister would even turn round from the telly. Sometimes when I’m getting ready for a show, I get dressed, pick up my guitar and shout “Bye”, and my kids are all watching telly and I have flashbacks to my dad. I’m turning into him in those moments.’

They are, in fact, a long way from any of their parents. Barlow’s late father, Colin, who worked in a fertiliser factory, remains Barlow’s hero, but the band’s principal songwriter reveals that he is the indulgent dad: ‘I’m happy to give my kids everything. They go to private schools, I love to spoil them. I want them to be polite. There’s no comparison to the way I grew up, but that just couldn’t happen. The only comparison I want is to give them the security and sense of family my parents gave me.’

Barlow, 47, has three children: Dan, 18, Emily, 16, and Daisy, nine, with his wife, Dawn. There was also his daughter, Poppy, who was stillborn in 2012 – a subject he broached for the first time in his recent autobiography, A Better Me. In the book, he spoke about stepping up to look after his wife and taking over the cooking for the family – something he still does, as does Owen.

‘I love to cook for my kids,’ Owen says. ‘I will spend hours making something really healthy and amazing like a beautiful curry and they’ll come home, take a mouthful and say: “Do we have anything else?”’

On stage they have the adulation of millions, at home it can be a different story, as Barlow reveals: ‘The most difficult thing about this business is that you are away a lot. Life at home goes on. You come back and sometimes you are like the lodger in the house. You go from singing a song to thousands to standing in a kitchen saying: “Come on, close your mouth when you’re eating.” And your wife is standing there waiting for you to ask for a cup of tea so she can say, “You’re not on tour now”. So there’s that adjustment, which can be very hard if you come home mid-tour.

‘Growing up changes you, fatherhood changes you,’ Barlow continues. ‘When Rob [Williams] introduced me to Ayda, who was then his fiancée, the first thing I did was call the other guys and say: “We’re OK. Rob’s going to be OK. I’ve met the girl he’s going to marry and she’s a keeper. Three kids later, Rob’s a different man. He’s a great dad. He loves his family – he loves nothing more than just sitting around his house with his kids. And that’s important. Our music has always been emotional, and the older you get, the deeper the emotion, and the more everything means.’

A few days later I receive a phone call from Owen, who’s clearly been thinking deeply on the subject of families. ‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ he begins in his classic self-deprecating manner. ‘But I was really thinking about those moments where what you do and how you are as a parent meet in the middle.

When I put my daughter Fox to bed at night she has always asked me to sing a lullaby. Apart from Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, I don’t know many kids’ songs, so I’ve always sung her Take That songs like Pray, Shine and Giants – because obviously I know all the words. At the moment she asks for the song about the lights going out, which is Everlasting, so that’s what I sing. It’s something the two of us have together and I realise that not only is it special to her, but it has actually changed how I feel about those songs when I go out and sing them on stage. It makes it even better. She has made it even better.

‘So if you want to know what it’s like being a musician when you become a dad, the answer is it can be hard, you can miss your kids. But then there are these moments when you get to share what you do with your children and that makes it all mean a whole lot more. That’s when it all becomes pretty magical.’

Take That celebrate 30 years by releasing ‘Odyssey’ – their greatest hits re-imagined – on November 23, takethat.com »

[socialattractionuk]

A guy sent girl a cover letter on Tinder for the role of ‘future husband’

(Picture: Caters News)

A guy so eager to land a date with a Tinder match decided to email a cover letter in an attempt to win her over.

After Jessica-May Giles, 22, matched with Mitchell, he decided to take her bio of ‘Just want to find a future husband’ literally – and asked how he could apply.

Jessica told him to send his ‘best covering letter’ – but she didn’t expect him to take her seriously.

Mitchell ended up writing her an almost 300-word letter and messaged her the next day.

In the letter, he listed his skills, as being a ‘top tea maker’, a ‘good hair player’ and a ‘good cuddler’, alongside stating his name as ‘Mitchell Husband Material’. He put his address as ’69 Future Love Den’.

The full cover letter

‘Dear Miss Giles.

‘I wish to apply for the position of future husband, currently being advertised on your profile. Please find my suitability statement below:

‘As you may guess I have currently zero experience in the official husband industry, but I believe the knowledge and skills built up during my lifetime make me the right/perfect candidate for the role.

‘From reading your role requirements it’s easy to see that I have covered many of the items and have more than suitable experience for your needs.

‘Firstly, you will be telling me to sit still most of the time as I am always on the move thinking of fun activities to do.

‘Following a long day of being mature yet silly I am more than confident I will meet your needs of being a good cuddler for a cosy night in with the sweets and films. (Top tea maker too)

‘I can be supportive in all ways and I’ll be there to spot you on the weights.

‘Compliments will come with ease, but you will have to take my word on the affectionate, good hair play and not have skinny thighs will be proved all at the same time if you get my draft.

‘And finally the fact I have written this means I can handle/go along with the banter.

‘To touch on your last requirement, as you are aware I have just driven back from down south with no serious collisions covers being the driver to different cities.

‘Thank you for your time and consideration.

‘I look forward to hopefully progressing to the telephone interview with you and discussing my application further.

‘Yours sincerely, Mitch.’

The pair have been messaging since so the cover letter seems like a total success. They’re even set to meet soon.

Jessica, from Lincolnshire, said: ‘I’ve had Tinder for about a month, and I’ve only used it for a bit of fun.

‘I thought putting that I was wanting to find a future husband would be a funny request and not something people would usually do on Tinder.

‘I had only put that on my profile the day before, and I knew I’d get some banter from it so jumped at the chance when Mitchell asked how they could apply.

‘I never thought he would actually send it, but when the email came through I thought it was hilarious – you’ve got to love a grafter!’

She said she ‘loved the attention to detail’ in the letter – and that Mitchell knew ‘exactly what to say’.

However, her favourite part of it was the postcode of the address – which was ‘HE4 RT’.

‘It was laid out so professionally, and I loved how he included some of my requirements in there too and even put them in italics,’ said Jessica.

(Picture: Caters News)

And although she admitted some may find the letter desperate, Jessica thought it was hilarious and looks forward to seeing Mitchell in the flesh.

She added: ‘I’m going on holiday soon, but we’ve been chatting a bit and he seems a genuinely lovely guy.

‘He clearly has good personality and banter to send that cover letter in the first place – so he’d be a laugh in person.

More: Dating

Why deleting your Tinder is the new way to say 'I love you'

People share their most disturbing dating stories on Twitter

I went on Naked Attraction: This is what it's like to be judged by your genitals

‘I’m not on Tinder actively looking to date or for a relationship, and I haven’t been on a date from there.

‘I just find it funny to scroll through now and then and have chats with people – especially when they’re funny.

‘But when I’m back from holiday I don’t see any harm in potentially going on a date with him and seeing what happens.’

MORE: No woman should be defined by her relationships, Monica Lewinsky included

MORE: ‘Deleting your Tinder is the new way to say I love you’ – why do Brits delay saying those three little words now?

[quirkypaynesgrey]

Star Wars, “First Scars” Rey/Ben, Reylo, rated Explicit

Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Title: First Scars Author: paynesgrey Characters/Pairings: Rey, Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1975 Spoilers: The Last Jedi Warnings: Sexual situations, Fluff, Established marriage, good!Ben Solo Notes: Takes place far in the future, possibly AU and definitely a What If? scenario. This is established relationship with redeemed Ben Solo. Written for my "scars" prompt for hc-bingo. Summary: Rey and Ben discuss his sentimental value in the scar she gave him, and then things heat up after that. Links: AO3 | Dreamwidth

Rey knew the scars on Ben’s skin weren’t proof enough that he was once Kylo Ren and he had been their enemy. They did not encompass the internal strife that Ben lived with everyday, waking up sweating and shaking in her arms from horrible nightmares.

Yes, once Ben Solo had turned to the dark side. More than once, Rey had to fight against him on the battlefield.

There were times where their battles had felt like yesterday. Other days when she saw his smile or smelled the musky scent tangled in his hair, he seemed a completely different person from a far off past and not the man she came to love.

Watching him sleep, Rey studied him as she snuggled up to him and soaked in the warmth of their large bed. In their modest suite, Rey enjoyed the quieter times alone with Ben rather than their usual duties as ambassadors of the the New Alliance to help forge peace in the galaxy.

Today, sunlight peeked through the large window and painted patterns on his bare skin. She reached out a finger, tracing freckles and spots over his body. Delicately, she brushed her finger over his scars - many of them healed and grafted over beyond their former selves.

The one on his face and shoulder, however, he had kept mostly intact. Long ago, when Supreme Leader Snoke was still alive, Ben had fixed the lightsaber scar that she had given him on their first duel on the snowy landscape. Yet, he had left some of the jagged and gnarled skin as a reminder of his first meeting of her, rather than completely heal it with grafters over time. He could have fixed every scar on his body if he so chose, but this particular one he had kept.

He was sickenly sentimental, she mused fondly.

She ran her index finger over the scar down to his shoulder as his soft breathing began to change. When she finally pulled her hand away, she was startled as he grabbed her hand and squeezed. She met his eyes, now awake, and he grinned wolfishly at her. He pulled her against his chest, and she felt his long dark hair fall over her face like a whisper. She exhaled a heavy breath as his warm mouth met hers, sending a surge of heat and wanting through her frame. He settled on top of her gently arching his body into hers.

“Morning,” she said through the kiss.

“You were assaulting me,” he teased her.

“Not true,” she said defensively. “I was looking at your scar, wondering when you’d get it mended.”

“Never,” he said, showering her with kisses again, his lips leading a path down her neck to her breasts.

“Really, it’s just a scar. The health droids could heal you up in only a couple days,” she said.

“No,” he said forcefully, and his busy hands removed her lower garments. His tone rang final and his thoughts had now moved onto something else. “If we have twins, will you name them Han and Leia?”

“What!” she exclaimed, and Rey tried to escape his grasp but he only held her tighter. “Since when have you had this thought?”

“Since you keep going on about my scar,” he said.

“Look, I’m only saying perhaps you should truly do away with the past,” she said.

He sighed heavily, rolling over on his side and propping his head up as he rested on an elbow. “I have told you before, this scar is special to me. Yes, I was a different person then, but it’s when we first fought. We almost killed each other!”

“Ben, while all of this is true, these are not the makings of a first date. Just because we… fought and I scarred you badly, does not mean you should have any affection for such an old wound,” Rey said.

“And here we are,” he said with a small smile. He locked with her eyes and she fell into his dark, magnetic gaze - the one that almost pulled her to the dark side many times. Thankfully, he had been more inclined to take her hand and fall in step by her side. Of course, she had defeated him and his knights by then, but like the deaths of his parents, those scars were not visible. His defeat at her hands was only a wound to his pride, something from which he recovered.

Lucky for her anyway, as well as the whole galaxy. The Jedi Order, the Sith and the First Order all be damned as Rey and Ben started something new together. More importantly, they started over, and Ben made good on his word he would no longer hurt anyone so long as Rey was with him.

She never knew his words had been a proposal for marriage. Ten years later, as he indicated, here they were.

Rey shifted under him on the bed and smiled, cupping his quiet face and leaning close for a long kiss. “Fine, keep the scar.”

“Will you ever shut up?” he said, pulling her arms over her head and pinning down her wrists. He was already starting to sweat from the heat of the morning. She molded herself against him, and she could feel Force energy in her hair, on the sides of her hips, and at the bottoms of her feet. She moaned softly. Rey loved when he did that.

He silenced her again for another long kiss, and Force energy buzzed around them like static electricity, welcoming them as it always had since the very first time they’d made love. His tongue, devouring her like a lifeline, moved from her mouth and sucked on the pulse of her throat. She felt cold for a moment as he pulled his hands away from her wrists, wrenching free the last thin garment between them, his undergarments. Hard, ready heat rubbed against her. She moaned as his fingers dipped below, lightly caressing her skin and leading a trail to the soft hair between her legs. When he’d found her wetness, his lips returned to her mouth and she welcomed him back, the lazy morning lull gone as rising energy fed her fire.

Ben dipped a finger into the moist apex below, and she mewled softly against his lips before following him in turn and letting her hands flutter over his erect cock, hot and pulsating just like those times she had taken his lightsaber into battle. Her fingers slid up and down the shaft as he arched into her and met her motions. He grunted like a stirring monster as she picked up speed, getting him ready for her.

“Enough,” he growled against her skin, like an order of a Supreme Leader and not her husband. A shiver went through her body from his voice, and her instincts almost appealed to defy him. But not this time. She melted into him, letting him do with her as he pleased.

He shifted, and he moved his fingers to replace with his wet and waiting cock, piercing through the buzz of energy around them and filling her whole. First, he rocked into her slowly, building up suspense and taking her slow. It aggravated her a bit, and he knew it. He chuckled against her skin, settling within her and biting at her quivering lips. She clenched around him, desperate for more speed.

For a controlled moment, he obliged her and finally his speed kicked up. She whined when she felt the edge, a wave of hot, unbridled energy coming to push her over. Gods, he felt so good - wet and hard and always perfectly fitted to her insides. Power radiated from everywhere, and she would blush to admit that yes, Force power resided on that part of him too, mimicking the impulsive, erratic energy that had often put them at odds.

But now Ben Solo used that power in a different way - an only for her.

He gripped her hips hard, leaving marks and Rey began to see stars as he pistoned harder, almost tearing her in two, making her pliant and submissive, leaving her with an unending want that echoed out into the future beyond them.

Ben Solo was her place in this world. Ben Solo was everything she needed, and he showed her every time.

“I’m going to give you twins,” he whispered in her ear - like a raw, unquestionable order that filled her blood with fire. And undertow of emotion left her speechless, and she could only release a ragged breath as she came.

He fell in step with her, not more than a few seconds after his words, and she felt the familiar pool of warmth as he emptied himself inside her.

“Ben,” she said, soaking in those last aftershocks of ecstasy, and he stayed within her, finding her lips again, encasing her in a tender, territorial embrace.

She exhaled heavily, her body raw and tender from his onslaught. The sunlight coming into the window sparkled over them, and as she squinted against the bright light she swore she could hear children laughing - like a dream patient for her to meet it.

Rey rested her head against her husband’s thick chest, and he gave her soft kisses against her temple as he stroked her light brown hair. She painted circles on him and entwined their feet together. She let out a sigh of relief and smiled against him.

“I think I can handle the scar,” she admitted, though if this is what came out of nagging him about it, maybe she should hold onto her words.

“I’m glad you see it my way,” Ben said, his tone light from sleepiness. “Let’s not go to the Senate hearing today. Let’s stay in bed and make future force-sensitive generations.”

“Ha, ha,” she said, though she wanted to agree with him. Having to attend Senate meetings, even as figureheads, was getting rather dreary. “Though, it’s good for peace and needs to be done.”

“Argh,” he groaned with abhorrence. “I was not built for these kinds of things. I’d rather be mauled by a flock of porgs.”

“Ben,” she said, and she turned to meet his eyes with resolution. “It’s only for today. And it’s not like we can go out and find trouble to stop, or even make trouble ourselves.”

“Oh?” he said, his brow rose in consideration of the idea.

“Well, I did hear that there are some skirmishes in the Outer Rim territories. Just minor local militia issues and uprisings to preserve the ideals of the First Order over the poor locals,” Rey said.

Ben’s interested piqued. “Oh, that sounds serious. We may have to deal with that,” he said with resolve. “Much more important than a routine senate meeting.”

“We could check into it…” she said, turning to him with a playful smile. “It definitely wouldn’t be boring.”

He pulled her close to him again and kissed her. “Good, let’s go within the hour. Because I swear if I have to sit through a Senate meeting, I will not be able to control myself while I’m sitting next to you.”

Rey’s eyes widened at his meaning. She was half intrigued to let that play out, and half embarrassed that she knew Ben would definitely keep his word on that.

“Alright, let’s go then..”

He held her against him rigidly and caressed a hand down her shoulder. She looked up at him and lightly traced his scar. “Not yet,” he said, capturing her eyes in an intense lock. She knew what he inferred.

Rey crawled into his lap and rubbed against him, already feeling him harden again. Tenderly, she kissed his lips. Ben arched against her again and wrapped his strong arms around her.

She submitted, and Rey admitted this was one battle she was always willing to lose to him.

END