#british playground

[thekittyburger]

Does anyone know what these fuckers were called

And why were they so fun even though I risked breaking my collarbone every time I tried this

[haveyouplayedthisirlgame-poll]

Bulldog is a playground game/tag variant where 1-2 players are selected as "bulldogs", and stand in the center of the play area. The other players line up on one side of the play area, and aim to run across the play area without being tagged by the bulldogs. The players who are tagged become "bulldogs" themselves, and the last untagged player wins.

[thrilloffirstlove]

My relationship to bellringer is very complex I swear (saying this out of nowhere)

[tsu22]

bunny bunny bunny🐇

[quitthebustabovemydoor]

holiday is funny because you search for places to stay on sites in your own language and when you are finally there you are irritated that there so many other people from your country.

we solve this problem by randomly mixing at least 4 languages.

[singsweetmelodies]

Katie, I have to tell you, your tags have to be the funniest thing ever, they always make me laugh!!! You’re the sweetest 💕

anon, YOU are in fact the sweetest for this message 🥺🥺❤️❤️ i have been opening my inbox on and off since yesterday just to stare at it and be like 🥰. ahhhh this is just so kind of you!! i am so glad i can make you laugh, love ❤️ that's exactly what we're here for on this hellsite, yeah? so ily ily ilysm for validating me like this mwah mwah <3333

[spectaculardistractions]

In an interesting moment the gang forces a trapped 'tec to join in with them in their evil orgiastic dances - none other than the depraved rock 'n' roll, which, via the Cavern, not only helped mitigate Liverpool's violence problem but set a generation's style. It's perfectly true that the rock 'n' roll as performed, in its early days, by delinquents, really was different in mood from what it became, and this scene could have been the product of direct, sensitive observation. But there's something oddly apposite in the film's vilification of anything which the younger generation had the insolence to choose for itself.

Raymond Durgnat, A Mirror for England

[jazzyoranges]

Birthdays and Stress

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: Tara meets some of your family during your father’s birthday

Words: 3.4k

A/n: i haven’t written fanfiction since 2020 so please proceed with a little caution 🌚

Warnings(?): fluff, mentions of sex, very tiny hurt/comfort

You had a big family

Like a really big family

Tara didn’t have the pleasure of having a family like yours. You were close with your cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and everyone else in between. While Tara on the other hand can barely remember her dad’s face, she tries to forget her mom’s, and her sister left due to personal issues. Granted, her sister did come back

Shaking her head, she had to push these thoughts to the back of her mind. Instead Tara had to focus on her rapidly beating heart and the internal screaming at the fact your entire family was only about 5 minutes away

Tara wanted to make a good impression. An amazing impression, that is. But what if your family knew she was related to the Woodsboro killings? What if they knew her sister was related to the very cause of the Ghostface killings? Would they kick her out? Deem her not good enough for you? What if they called her a liability and then kicked her out? This really was a bad idea, why did she agree to doing this?

“Tara, I love you with all my heart. I promise my family won’t throw you out of the house.” You rested a hand on her thigh, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb just how she liked it

Perhaps her internal screaming hadn’t been so internal

“Oh, but what if they do, babe? What then? They’re gonna hate me.” the shorter girl groaned, throwing her head back and covering her face in annoyance

“Tara I’m literally so madly in love with you. They’re going to love you, baby. There’s not a universe out there where they don’t absolutely adore you like I do.” you say seriously, taking her left hand in yours and bringing it up to your face to give her knuckles a feather-light kiss

Tara pouts. A very childish pout, that is

“When you realize I’m right, I will happily say I told you so tomorrow.”

“…You promise they’ll like me?”

“I pinky promise, baby.”

Tara loved that about you. Only do you swear by your pinky during very serious times, almost as if you were swearing upon the river Styx. Never once have you broken one of your pinky promises, and Tara found it utterly adorable. You turned something kids would do under the playground slide into a life-bound oath that you’d never imagine breaking. The thought was endearing enough to help relax Tara just the tiniest bit. She was still scared as fuck, though

“If you get overwhelmed at any time, we can always go back home or to my room, baby. How about we come up with a safe word?”

“I can last all night, babe. This mama doesn’t need any safe word” she says proudly. Your girlfriend was an absolute dork under all those layers of trauma

“Tara.” you playfully cock an eyebrow at her

“Sorry…” she mumbled “how about black licorice? I hate black licorice.”

“Black licorice, it is!” you beam, starting to pull into the driveway of your childhood house

It was your fathers 55th birthday. You’d been with Tara for about 2 years now, which you heavily insisted was enough to consider her a part of your family. Tara ignored how her heartbeat quickened at the implications of being in your family

Tara had still been in her thoughts when you parked the car and rounded the front to the passenger side. Opening the door, you made sure to make a big display, as if you were ushering the queen of England herself

“My liege.” you say in a faux British accent while holding out your hand as you bow, awaiting her response

“And society dares say chivalry is dead.” she laughs at your antics, intertwining your hands as you help her out of your car. There was cars upon cars parked on the road. Tara would’ve guessed this was a frat party and not a birthday party with how many cars were present. Birthday gift in hand, Tara was now worrying if it was enough

When you rang the doorbell, Tara’s heart quickened again. A week prior, you two went shopping, looking for the perfect casual dress Tara was going to wear. You were persistent that it didn’t matter what she wore. Tara ultimately won that argument when she pulled up an entire slideshow on her laptop and presented it to you sitting 5 inches away from your face. You tell yourself you let her win that time

Before she could say this was a bad idea for the umpteenth time, the door opened with your father behind it

“Well, I’ll be dammed! If it isn’t my favorite child!” he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, a wide grin on his face

“Dad!” you smile “You don’t look a day over 80”

“Oh hush, you.” he laughs, turning to Tara

“And you must be Tara!” he reaches out to shake her hand, Tara reciprocating the action.

“We’re all excited to meet you. Our Y/N likes to brag about you quite a lot! Welcome to the family, Tara. It’s a pleasure to have you here” the older man pats her shoulder, his grin bright enough to be seen by astronauts on the Moon

“Thank you, Mr. (L/N). Please, the pleasure is all mine” Tara smiles, and you interlace your hands once again

“Oh, hush with all that formal crap. You’re making me feel old! Frank or Frankie is perfectly fine, darlin’. Come on in!”

You give Tara’s hand a supportive squeeze, offering a smile. You’re proud she didn’t pass out while talking to your dad. He could definitely be overbearing at times, but the older man only had good intentions

Setting down you and Tara’s gift on a nearby table, she was hit with an immediate sense of home when she entered the living room. Tara felt nostalgia that didn’t exist. Perhaps it was a sense of longing. Tara could definitely imagine a small you running around and tracking mud all over the floors. Maybe she’d be lucky enough to see your baby pictures. The shorter girl felt something brush up against her legs, snapping her out of her thoughts

“Ares!” you say excitedly, reaching down to pick up the orange cat. Part of his left ear was missing, but it added to his charm

“He always takes a while to warm up to people. I wonder why he came up to you?” now you were holding the cat in such a way that invited Tara to pet him — which she happily did. Ares quickly started to purr

“Maybe it’s ‘cause I smell like you?”

“I like to think it’s ‘cause you’re the chosen one” you shrug, noticing how Tara’s cheeks redden the tiniest bit

“Why’s his name Ares? That’s a greek god, isn’t it?” Tara didn’t know much about greek mythology when she first met you, but after long rants (in which she happily listened to), she now knew some surface-level facts

“Mom let me name him when I was 13, and I might’ve been going through a really bad Percy Jackson phase at the time. Ares was a real ass when he was younger. Always messing shit up, and I guess it just fit at the time.” you smiled at him. Tara noticed the look in your eyes. You were recalling all your past memories of Ares, getting ready to talk about the orange cat if she asked. Tara liked observing you

“C’mon, how about we say hi to my Mom? Are you ready for another parent?” You asked, setting down Ares on his cat post as he stretched and let out a big yawn.

“Yeah, definitely ready.”

“You sound uncertain. I know you’ll fuck shit up out there, babe” you press a kiss to the bridge of her nose, making her subconsciously scrunch it up in the way you found sickeningly adorable

“Y’know, you should really be a professional motivational speaker, baby. I feel better already” she says in a sarcastic tone, but she fully means her words

Making your way to the backyard doors, Tara is starting to feel a little better about meeting your family. Your Mom was seated on the patio deck with a few of her sisters — your aunts. Before you could say hello, the three of them were already up

“Mom, Auntie Rosie, Aunt Amelia, meet my girlfriend. This is Tara” you smile at her, and she returns your smile

“Tara! You’re even prettier in real life!” you’re lovingly shoved out of the way as all the attention is now drawn to your girlfriend

A slew of praise bombard her, compliment after compliment meeting her ears. You come up behind her and place your hand on the brunette’s shoulder, offering a little comfort. Instead of being met with her eyes of discomfort, all you can see is happiness behind her smile. She happily engages in conversation. Answering questions about your relationship, her education, and plans for the future. Tears prick at your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. You loved seeing Tara happy.

“Well, it was wonderful meeting you, Tara. Don’t be a stranger, sweetheart. How about you two enjoy the party, now?” your mom smiled

“Likewise. It was wonderful meeting you too, Mrs. (L/N)”

Before you can turn around, there’s a sudden weight on your back that makes you topple onto the grass. You can hear the faint giggling of Tara as you’re causally making out with the floor

“Lilith (M/N) (L/N). I swear to god if you don’t get off of me, I’ll make sure to-“ you never finished your sentence as more weight was put on your back. Not as heavy as your sister, but the weight was still there. By the sound of high-pitched giggles, you could only assume your nieces — your older brother’s daughters — were now on top of you as well

“Auntie Y/N! Auntie Y/N! Who’s that over there?” Your nieces say in union. Lily gets off your back, but the other two decide to stay and bombard you with questions

Tara can’t help but laugh at your state

“You’re Tara, right?” your sister was now at your girlfriend’s side as you struggled to bribe your nieces with candy (they were surprisingly resilient)

“Mhm, you’re her sister, aren’t you? Lilith is what Y/N said?”

“Lilith is my real name, but family and friends call me Lily” she winks at Tara with a smirk on her face

“Did you know Y/N had a crush on you in high school? She said she’d kill me if I told anyone, but every single day she’d tell me about her fat crush on you” Lily playfully bumped her and Tara’s shoulders together. “Even more than Elizabeth Olsen is what she’d say to me”

“Oh? Please continue, I insist.” Tara can’t contain her smile as she learns about your crush on her. Now fueled by not getting embarrassed more than you already have, you practically wrestle your nieces to get back up on your feet

“Lily I swear to everything holy, if you don’t shut up, I will make sure you never see another sunrise.” you’d probably be scarier if there weren’t two little girls hanging off your arms with some dirt and grass smudged on you face when you got up. Tara and Lily doubled down laughing, and you could feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment

“C’mon you two troublemakers, don’t give Auntie Y/N back problems just yet” your brother calls out from behind Tara. You two were the absolute splitting images of each other. You’ve already shown pictures and videos of him, but now she’s actually seeing him. Face shape, hair texture, you and him may as well be conjoined twins

“Tara, is it? Y/N hasn’t stopped talking about you since you two have met. I’m Joshua” he gracefully picks up his daughters, finally giving you breathing room to mutter something about “working out” and “bodied by toddlers”

“You don’t know how many times i’ve heard that today” Tara’s teasing grin was so wide, her name may as well be the Cheshire Cat. She looks over Joshua’s shoulder, meeting your flushed cheeks and embarrassed look

“I don’t appreciate this slander, thank you. I’d like to take my girlfriend away, now!” you say in a sing-song tone. Your siblings and nieces wave you two a goodbye before starting a conversation of their own

“Embarrassed, much?”

“Hush, you get embarrassed when Mindy tells me about your ‘longing looks’ as she’d call it”

“All the more reason for me to hear about how much you liked me~” Tara pokes the side of your ribs, and you pinch her cheek in retaliation

Before you know it, you’re inside your house again. This time, way more family and family friends occupy the main area. Tara could handle smaller interactions with your immediate family, but this stressed her out. She never liked admitting it, but crowded places freaked her the fuck out. More chances of Ghostfa-

“Black licorice?”

“Black licorice.” she nods, looking at you. Tara liked how well you knew her.

“How about my room? I have a record player in there” You guided her up the stairs, your hand not leaving Tara’s for a second

Entering your room, she noticed how you it was. Band and movie posters were all across the walls, and she could clearly picture a middle school Y/N in their Hot-Topic phase. Vinyl records and a multitude of books sat on shelves all over your room. Above your bed, under your bed, you name it, there wasn’t a shelf that was empty

“Lana, Arctic Monkeys, Taylor, Slipknot for some reason…” You listed off artists you had records for, and they were all so you. She could practically feel your entire soul in this room, just wafting around

“Lana. Definitely, Lana” Tara makes her way to your bed, feeling the soft sheets on her thighs

“What’s on your mind, baby?” You sit next to her, letting Tara rest her head on your shoulder

“Do you think i’ll ever stop being scared? I don’t like feeling scared around your family. I don’t like how they’re all still affecting me”

“It’ll take time, Tara. Months, Years, you name it. But however long it takes, I promise I’ll be there with you.” Tara fidgets with your hands, and you press a kiss to the side of her head

Before you can fully move away, Tara pulls you into another kiss. She feels soft against your lips, and smells like absolute heaven. She kisses you like you’re her last meal, and you’d happily be devoured. She straddles your waist as your back hits the headboard. You kiss until air is required, and pull away with a small smile on your face. It’s not long until you do it again. And again. And again. Until your lips are cherry red from Tara’s biting, and her dress a little crinkled from your urge to always be close

“We can stay up here if you want? I’ll tell my parents you aren’t feeling well.”

“No, that’d be bad manners. Can we just… stay like this a little longer?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” You shimmy out of her straddle, and opt to lay on your bed

“Lay down with me?”

“Y/N, i don’t want my hair to get all messy”

“So what? You’d look pretty either way”

“Your family is gonna think we had sex, baby”

“I hate to break it to you, babe, but they probably already think we’re on our third position right now”

Tara sighs.

“Moments like these are when I question why I said yes to dating you” She groans, laying down on her back next to you

“I’m irresistible” you say with a smug grin on your face

“If it helps you sleep at night, baby”

—

“Where did Tara and Y/N go?” your mother questioned

“Y/N whispered something in Tara’s ear, and they went upstairs. Ten dollars they’re gonna fuck”

“Lily! Language!” your sister laughed as your mom lightly slapped her shoulder

“You should probably wait 10 minutes before calling them down here”

“I’m grounding you.”

—

Ten minutes of laying on your bed and a few kisses later, a knock is heard at your door

“Are you two decent over there?”

“We aren’t fucking, Lily” this time, it’s your turn to groan

“Just make sure to air out your room before our nieces and nephews get up here”

“I hate being related to you” Tara laughs behind you, trying to suppress a smile. “I’d wrestle you if I wasn’t so strong” you open your door

“We both know you’re all talk. I’m the real winner, aren’t I, Tara?”

“As long as it’s not Y/N” Tara shrugs while walking down the stairs, and she can practically feel the betrayed look on your face

“I’m the real winner, aren’t I, Tara?” You say in a higher pitch, mocking Lily. “C’mon, we both know I have more experience.”

“Sex isn’t the same as wrestling, Y/N”

“You’d be agreeing with me if you actually got some, Lily”

“Alright, I think that’s enough about sex. I’m gonna have this on my conscience while we sing happy birthday to your father” Tara just couldn’t stop thinking about how you two bantering was so similar to her family bantering with Mindy and Chad. The shorter girl’s family was maybe definitely more complicated than yours, but you never made her feel bad about it. Tara liked that about you

“Your girlfriend is cool” Lily whispers, but Tara can hear her

“You’re saying that like I don’t already know” You smile, swinging an arm around Tara’s shoulders. Finally making it to the bottom floor, your family is around your father, getting ready to sing happy birthday. He requested two simple five and five candles, but it seems he lost that battle as 55 regular candles sat on his sheet cake

A few of your nieces and nephews of different ages swarm to your side like bees following their queen. Tara has to push away her baby thoughts when she sees you take one of your nieces into your arms and smile all the way up to your eyes. This barbie is having baby fever

Someone dims the lights, and a happy birthday is sung to your father. She joins in the makeshift choir, meeting his eyes and smiling. The man looked a little awkward, but honestly who didn’t while being sung happy birthday. When the crowd was finished singing, the older man closed his eyes in thought of a wish. As quickly as they closed, his wish was made

A spew of cheers and congratulations erupted as he was handed a knife to cut his cake. Kids rushed to grab a slice, and Tara had to actively try and not get her toes stepped on. The shorter girl felt someone lean onto her from behind, and she could tell it was you from how your chin rested on her head

“How’re you feeling?” A slice of cake was now in her hands as of your delivery. “Let’s sit outside and you can talk me through it”

“This is all so new to me, but i’m enjoying it. I’m still scared and nervous, but you’re making it easier” she bumps your shoulders together. “Your siblings are also pretty fun to be around”

“Thanks for coming today, baby” you kiss the side of her head. “I’m really proud of you for agreeing to come with me.”

Tara lays her head on your shoulder, and you two stay like that for a little while, appreciating each others presence to take a small breather.

“Thank you for being patient with me” The shorter girl says softly after a while

“As long as Atlas is holding up the sky, I promise I’ll wait for you”

“Baby, you’re so lucky I love you. I would’ve cringed if you were anyone else, but somehow you make it endearing”

“I always told my siblings I’d get a girlfriend that appreciates my Greek Mythology references”

“You’re a dork.” Tara smiles before leaning in to kiss you. She was looking forward for another day like this.

—

Bonus:

You and Tara are cuddling on her bed when the clock turns to 12am

“Hey, Tar?”

“Mmm?”

“I told you so.”

[kwimii999]

Download Link :

Download .sims3pack & .package : Mediafire (A + B)

CC not included in .package (So you have to download from the list) Please inform me if anything is missing or wrong with the builds

Lot Information :

Name : Le Losange Size : 40x30 Price (Unfurnished) : 6 619$ (A) (Bus stop + 1st house is livable) Price (Unfurnished) : 6 533$ (B) (No bus stop + 3rd house is liveable) Lot type : Residential 2 Floors (A+B) 3 Bedrooms + 2 Bathrooms

Eps Required (No stuff packs) :

University Life (Most important) + Pets + Supernatural + Into the future

CC List :

Plants - Ox daisies, Boxwood Recolor Variant light, TS4 Plants Conversions: Wetlands + Shrub C + Starter Hedge, Boxy Lady

Mailbox + Trashbin - Wall mounted mailbox #9 (functional not deco) + Recycle Bin

Fences - Useful walls, No eaves roof, Dixon Fence

Doors + Archway - Grant Park Interior Door Style 1 (Solid Knob) (1x1) + Grant Park Interior Door Style 2 (1x1) + Grant Park Open Door With Screen Door (2x2) + Grant Park Narrow Interior door style 1 (Solid Knob) (1x1), Never ending Arches + Pyschen Door Set (Door 1)

Windows - Ordinary Windows Set

Wallpaper - Old Apartment walls + Wood Pattern #15 (NOT V.2) (IMPORTANT)

Roof - Fakehousesrealawesome (The whole set is worth everything 💚)

Light - Light sconce (6th one)

Deco - Trash Piles : #5 + #8 + Trash pile and fridge - Bike Park Post Hopps Stand - Bus City : Bus City Shelter + Sign + Seating

Neigbhors objects - Playground Toddler Slide, Gardening Spade (Wall), Insect Farm (Works as a spawner), British Beach Chairs, Gelina Modular Planter boxes, Cheap toddler swimming pool, Planted Pots : jungle1 + houserubberstarterkit + pottedpalm

Pavement - Road Sidewalk Flooring Set

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra III

Not much. But something. I have a few more things in mind for these cuties. This one is definitely all over the place but also a semi-requested kind of blurb.

You can read the rest here: Neighbors

~2.2 k words

“How come everyone stares at you?” He asked.

Harry smirked. “Some people think I sound funny,” he winked at his little best friend in the mirror. “Can y’believe that?” He chuckled. Rory, the seven-going-on-seventeen-year-old, rolled his eyes expertly having heard the story of one of the first sentences he spoke to Harry.

“Is it because you’re not really my dad?”

You’re sure you don’t mind? My sister is close enough but will still be later than you would be...

Course not, love :)

Okay...I’ll call the school and let them know...you’re totally sure and not too busy?

Just call the school, baby. Please :)

Harry smirked at the messages and rolled his eyes letting his client know that he would have to move their appointment to another day. Slipping on his trainers, he headed out the door to his car and drove to the school. He had been several times with the lovely girl that had stolen every bit of his heart. This would be the first time he would be getting Rory on his own. There was a big traffic jam—an accident that Harry was very grateful for was not her because the panic set in almost the moment she called—and she would be stuck for a lot longer. Getting Rory on time would be a challenge for her if it weren’t for Harry happily agreeing to get him.

Harry parked and exited the car heading to the playground where the kids were all milling about and where pickup was designated. He could see all the mums in Rory’s class started to whisper about his presence. Even a few of the teachers began questioning who Harry belonged to from a distance. Typically, he stayed in the car to prevent the chatter. But of course, today was different.

“Hi, m’here to pick up Rory. M’girlfriend called t’let everyone know; M’Harry. Harry Styles,” he explained with a sweet smile. The teacher in front of him had to be as old as his mum at least but she looked rattled to see Harry before her. There was something about the startling green eyes, the British accent, and those deadly dimples that could make any woman weak in the knees. You are too handsome, it’s unfair and leaves people speechless. I only pretend I’m not an absolute mess about you. She had explained to Harry before. He thought it was adorable she felt that way. Of course, he thought it was silly and unnecessary but he couldn’t help the change of his own heartbeat when he caught a glimpse of her doing the most mundane of any tasks.

“Hi Harry!” Rory cheered running up to him and throwing himself at his legs. Harry chuckled ruffling his hair.

“Hey, lad. Y’have a nice day?”

“Can I play a few more minutes?” He asked.

“Actually, I haven’t gotten confirmation just yet. I would...prefer it that way...if it’s all the same to you,” she admitted sheepishly. “We’re waiting on your license,” she explained holding her phone out to Harry so he could read the email chain between the staff and his pretty angel.

Harry’s phone was silent and so he missed the several calls from the poor girl who was probably losing her mind in traffic. Fortunately, Rory was pretty easy going. He even giggled at Harry’s misfortune. “Mumma’s gonna be all worried,” he said.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Ror,” he sighed pressing his phone to his ear. “Hi, kitten,” Harry murmured. “M’at the school. I know I gotta send m’license t’you. I had m’phone on silent.”

“They’re making it very difficult. I’m so sorry,” she sounded so remorseful. The sigh in her voice was heavy.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmured. “Rory’s right here, he’s gonna play some more while we get this squared away...how’s the traffic?”

“Terrible,” she sighed. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “They just have my sister on file...” she explained. “I should have updated it.”

“S’nothing, m’love,” he promised. “One second,” he pulled his wallet out and retrieved his ID. He snapped a picture of it and sent it to her so she could email it to the school. Such bureaucratic stuff. But Harry was grateful the school took safety so seriously.

While Harry chatted with his mom, Rory was pointing at the tall man that had a funny voice and his friend looked at him curiously. “That’s Harry,” Rory explained.

“You call your dad Harry?” Aiden asked.

Rory shrugged. “Yeah,” he nodded. “He’s really cool. He plays dinosaurs with me and builds really good forts,” he told him knowingly.

Harry waved at the pair of boys while he chatted quietly with the teacher explaining the whole mess of traffic and the predicament of picking him up in the first place. She said she would send a digital copy of the paperwork for them to fill out so Harry could officially be on file.

It’s all set, I think.

“M’told we’re all good t’go,” Harry smirked at the message. Eyes on the road, kitten. See you soon! Xx “Rory!” He called. “S’time t’go. Gotta grab dinner!”

Rory came hustling toward him again, his friends watching in awe as he followed Harry toward the car. Rory buckled himself into his booster seat and settled in as he looked in the rear-view catching Harry’s eyes. “Is Mumma okay?” He frowned. “She always gets me a popsicle after school on Tuesday.”

“She’s just in traffic, lad. She’ll be late. I think I can manage a popsicle,” he smirked.

Rory nodded and looked back toward the playground. “How come everyone stares at you?” He asked.

Harry smirked. “Some people think I sound funny,” he winked at his little best friend in the mirror. “Can y’believe that?” He chuckled. Rory, the seven-going-on-seventeen-year-old, rolled his eyes expertly having heard the story of one of the first sentences he spoke to Harry.

“Is it because you’re not really my dad?”

Harry frowned. Rory asked it so casually and it stabbed Harry right through the heart. He was sad Rory thought about that in any capacity. Harry wished with everything in him that he could just...be his dad. But then Rory wouldn’t be Rory. Harry would hate that. “Maybe... but...s’none of anyone’s business. But I do love you, Rory. More than anyone could love you,” he promised seriously. “You know that right?”

He nodded. “I don’t think you love me more than Mumma loves me, though,” he snickered.

Harry liked the fact that he wasn’t upset about it. The way Harry talked so highly of his mother made Harry’s heart burst with adoration for the pair. They were inseparable and perfect. “Mm...I’ll maybe let that slide. But s’close. I promise.”

*

“Hey, cutie patootie,” she sighed with a tired smile as she walked in the house. Harry gave her a wave from the kitchen and Rory came bolting from the kitchen where he was helping Harry with setting the table and threw himself into her embrace. “How was school?”

“Harry picked me up!” He said excitedly.

“Yeah?” She kissed the top of his head, and she swore was crawling taller up the length of her with every passing minute. Her little baby. She tried not to think about it too much in fear she would simply begin crying and never stop. “Was that a nice surprise?”

Harry smiled as he finished putting dinner on the table. Rory left her to get the take-home folder that he handed off to her every day. While he did, Harry wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her head. “Hi beautiful,” he hummed pressing his lips to her earlobe making an involuntary shiver run through her body. It seemed ridiculous that someone as perfect as Harry would call her beautiful after she worked all day and then sat in traffic for way too long.

“Hmm,” she hummed into his shirt. This felt like heaven. Being in his arms. Dinner behind him. Rory loved Harry as much as she did. (Maybe even more due to the proportionality of his little big heart.)

“Mumma, can Daddy come to career day?” He asked holding all the papers that were in his folder in his arms haphazardly leaving a trail behind them. Harry thought his heart stopped. She blinked in surprise at his simple, easy use of the name for Harry. She pulled away from his embrace where he remained stock still, completely speechless, and in disbelief.

“S-sure, love bug,” she murmured awkwardly picking up the slew of papers he left behind to show her. Sure enough, the flyer for career day was right in front of the two of them. Harry was trying (and pretty much failing) to keep his composure. Neither of them wanted to make a big deal of him using the parental term. “What happened to your folder?” She asked, trying to give Harry a moment to process the name.

“I get to introduce you and tell them what your job is...what is it again?” Rory asked, excitement laced in his voice as he looked up at Harry as if he hadn’t just completely flipped Harry’s world upside down with a little name.

After a pause, Harry was still staring in awe of the little seven-year-old that had totally boggled his mind and captured his heart in his little hands. She was crouched beside the papers, so she gently bumped her arm into his shin to garner his attention. “Harry, baby,” she murmured gently, knowing he was completely blindsided and utterly confused.

“Y-yeah, lad. M’called a psychologist. I help people when they’re nervous or scared,” he explained without any emotion in his voice.

Rory looked at Harry curiously. “Like when Mumma was scared at the hospital...or at the car wash?”

He nodded mutely. Unable to fully process how monumental this was and still maintain the conversation as if it didn’t happen at all. “Yes, baby,” she answered instead. “Can you get your folder?”

The second Rory returned to find the folder in his backpack folded over and misshapen due to shoving all his papers in without purpose, she was on her feet throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his skin as if her life depended on it.

“I love you, so much. So, so much,” she whispered.

He wrapped his arms around her just as tightly her toes brushing against the floor, and he smiled into her hair. “God, I love you so much,” he mumbled.

*

She was lying beside Rory in his little bed, and they stared up at the fake stars that made his ceiling glow. “Do you know you called Harry ‘Daddy,’ today?” She asked. The man in question was downstairs cleaning up from dinner and tending to the emergency call he got from a client.

“Am I allowed to?” He asked.

“Of course...just...that was kind of a big deal for Harry and I,” she explained. “Like taking your training wheels off,” she used as a reference of importance.

“Whoa,” he whispered.

“Whoa,” she nodded in agreement.

“Harry’s...not leaving...right?”

“No... no, he’s here to stay love bug,” she said firmly.

“So... he’s my dad now, right?”

She felt her throat tighten with so many emotions she could hardly contain it. “Yeah, baby. He is,” she whispered quietly. For so many years she tried to be every person Rory needed. A mom, a dad, a friend, a teacher, a coach, and so many other people rolled into one. Now, she could be one less person. One less role she needed to worry about.

“I like having a mom and dad,” he yawned sleepily.

“Me too, cutie pie,” she sighed, stroking his soft little face and brushing his hair behind his ear.

* Rory was bouncing with excitement of how cool it was that Harry brought Starbursts to Career Day. He introduced Harry—his dad—to his class and he told them all about emotions and how it’s cool to help people who struggle with it. He brought in a set of figurines of the emotions from Inside Out and made it accessible to the little ones.

“Think I made a few people want t’be a psychologist,” he winked at her from across the table while she went through Rory’s bag. Rory was taking a shower playing with his water toys.

“You make me want to be a psychologist,” she smirked going through the take-home folder again. Harry was working on the crossword, and he bit the inside of his lip.

“S’that because m’so hypnotizing in bed?” He winked.

She blushed and it felt like Harry had won the lottery. She ignored his comment, but Harry thought it was adorable when she was flustered. He returned to seven down, when she gasped. “Oh,” she covered her mouth and handed the paper to Harry.

Inside the box on the page showed a little figure person, dressed in black pants, a blue shirt, and a tie. The person held a messenger bag, papers and a computer spilling out of it. There were little figurines from Inside Out beside the person.

When I grow up, I want to be... was written at the top.

In Rory’s messy, seven-year-old script it read: like my dad.

Harry was certain at that moment he loved Rory more than she ever could.

But it was damn close.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @st-ev-ie @lovrave @harrysxcarolina

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[dawnofh]

Hello I hope you day is going well. I don’t know if you do requests but you write 141 so well and I was hoping if you could write a gn reader just going up to the pals and just tagging them and saying tag your it and running away. Please👀.

I don’t really do requests but I loved the idea, thanks. Have an amazing day🫶

Tagging 141 then running away [Headcannon]

Price

“Tag, Captain!! You’re it!!”

As you run away, Price just stares at you, with both disappointment and concern.

His thoughts are, It’s that damn phone again.

Will never entertain your childish behaviour because this is modern warfare not a playground.

However if you tag him and take his bucket hat then he’s suddenly Usain Bolt.

He finna hunt you down.

“You fuckin Muppet, have you lost your bloody mind?!”

Expect to be hit or injured in some way. You’ll be hurt emotionally and physically.

He’s the, ‘I’ll give you something to cry about’ type of parent.

If for some reason he is a parental figure to you, he still won’t entertain your childish behaviour. “Stop it, get some help.”

No matter what he doesn’t give two shits about your dumb game and will simply shake his head trying to figure out when and how he went wrong with you.

Might just pull out a gun or knife on you one of these days, “Tag me again and you’re losing all 5 fingers today.” Please don’t tag him.

Ghost

There is a time and place for everything. I repeat, there is a time and place for everything.

“Tag!! You’re it!!” Simon wouldn’t even react, he would simply watch you run then move on with life.

If Ghost took things personally then Rodolfo would’ve flown through the windscreen for making that mask joke.

Simon would get you back at the worst time, “Lieutenant I’m scared to jump.” You looked down at the cliff, wondering if the water would be able to break your fall. He’d give you that Ghost stare then put a hand on your shoulder and go, “Tag. You’re it.” Before pushing you off.

On a normal basis, just like Price he wouldn’t entertain you nor give you the time of day.

“Lieutenant do you even know what tag is?” You question if this man had a childhood or even had friends. Although he wouldn’t take lightly to the question and just stare to shut you up.

His anger doesn’t show in person so he’ll take it out on you during training, make you run around the base just because he can, “C’mon Soldier, pick up the pace!! I thought you liked running?!!”

Realistically speaking, you actually wouldn’t want to be chased by a 6’4 British man in a skull mask. That’s pure nightmare fuel and would likely give you PTSD for the rest of your life.

Soap

Competitive asf.

“Tag!! You’re it!!” as soon as you run away slowly as a joke you realise Soap actually got up to chase you, “STOP!! I DON’T WANT TO PLAY ANYMORE, SERGEANT!!!!!”

Don’t start something you can’t finish.

Soap is hella competitive and takes the game very seriously, there is no place on this base you could possibly run and hide.

Immobilises you to get a win.

‘It’s just a prank, bro.’ energy

“Let’s spice the game up by tagging each other with grenades.” “Sergeant what the fuck-“ “Okay fine…knives.” “Sergeant please-“

Is likely to start initiating the game to which Price disapproves of and shuts it down immediately.

Might even take the game a step further by doing it one time during a mission to which Ghost slaps you both at the back of your heads.

Never does it again but would offer to play hide and seek or the floor is lava at the base, so long as neither of you are caught.

Switches up real quick when Price or Ghost are around, “Y/N. How old are you?”

John was most likely that one kid in school who took tag too seriously therefore tag is now banned at the base.

Gaz

“Tag you’re—“ “IT!!!”

Gaz was that fast kid in school. He’s the one kid no one was able to tag and is an ankle breaker.

Will climb over tables and cars just to tag you back.

Probably is the type to trip you when you’re walking, so be warned when playing tag, this man will two feet you just to get a victory.

You two annoy the shit out of Price. He becomes a human shield when you two insist on running around him just so the other can avoid getting tagged.

You and Gaz will probably go around tagging the entire base and somehow get everyone involved. All fun and games until someone tags Price or Ghost.

Tag with Gaz becomes the extreme hide and seek. He’d quite literally sit in a tree and wait for you to walk pass so he can jump down and tag you. Unlike Soap, he genuinely does take the game as a joke but wants to win.

You two might even be able to convince Price to make tag a training exercise. With some terms and conditions however.

During missions you’d sneakily still play. Except tag in ghillie suits is not ideal and there’s a small chance of tagging the enemy.

Tag but make it sniping, “Tag, dude with the hat is down.” “Tag, guy with the balaclava is down.” “Tag, macho looking man is down.”

“Shut the actual fuck up, Muppets.”

Just like that. Tag is banned again.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Les aspirations les plus absurdes et les plus téméraires ont parfois conduit à des succès extraordinaires.

- Vauvenargues

St. Moritz has been a famous health resort in Engadine since the 19th century. At first, it was only frequented by spa guests, before the village developed into a high alpine sports centre, and for a time it was a playground for the rich and famous. There’s still some of that element present but not as in its hey day of the 70s. For nine months of the year it’s just another picturesque village in the gorgeous Swiss Alps, with Lake St. Moritz lying at its heart.

Crucially it is quietly forgotten by the outside world. Residents can breathe and go about their daily chilled out lives. For those precious nine months it was great to hike and ski there as my boarding school wasn’t too far away from getting there. But the other four months of the year, the high season, it gets flood with skiers and altogether more showy crowd.

The frozen surface of the lake, which can only be described as a desert of snow, now serves as a symbol of the resort itself. From nine months of natural bliss to four months of chaos and madness. Every time the ice lends its surface to polo tournaments, horse races, and the wealthy and beautiful make the pilgrimage down the mountains from their grand hotels, St. Moritz seems to transform. St. Moritz’s newest ‘gimmick’ for the past three years or so has been to serve the International Concours of Elegance St. Moritz - or The ICE St. Moritz - as a kind of classic car museum with an adventurous character.

Since the first ever The ICE St. Moritz in 2019, historic rally cars have been exhibited to the sports car-crazy public on the opening day, before demonstrating their horsepower on the ice racetrack on the second day of the event. However, the fact that The ICE is taking place on Lake St. Moritz, of all places, is no coincidence. In 1985, a group of Scottish and British sportsmen drove their vintage Bentleys to St. Moritz to celebrate the centenary of the Cresta Run (an eccentric and high spirited toboggan amateur race). As part of the festivities, they drove their cars on the racecourse across the frozen Lake St. Moritz.

This year, however, the ICE St. Moritz evolved slightly differently. For the first time, the event was held on two days: Friday 24 and Saturday 25 February. On the first day, the lake was transformed into an open-air museum, where the jury evaluated the cars on display from an aesthetic perspective. Then, on the second day, the actual race took place, whereupon the jury evaluated the classic cars from a performance perspective.

This year there were five category winners. In the ‘Open Wheels’ category, the 1958 Maserati 420M/58 “Eldorado” held its own. Meanwhile, the ‘Barchettas on the Lake’ category crowned the Ferrari 500 Mondial Series II from 1955 as the winner. My personal favourite, the aforementioned Ferrari 250 Testarossa ‘Lucybelle’ emerged as the winner in the ‘Le Mans 100’ category. As expected, Lancia Strato’s HF Zero of 1970 came out on top in the ‘Concept Cars & One Offs’ category. Last but not least, judges crowned the 1958 Bentley S1 Continental Drophead Coupé as the winner of the ‘Queens on Wheels’ category.

The evening gala took place at Badrutts Palace, which towers over the city like a castle with its high stone walls. In the stimulating semi-darkness and under shimmering candlelight, riders, collectors, enthusiasts, the public and media from all over the world celebrated the conclusion of one of the most anticipated competitions in the Engadine. Overall it’s spectacular fun and contrary to what one might believe it really does draw the car enthusiast crowd rather than the snob mob. It’s a very chilled event and bags of fun.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

The IDF estimates, maybe based on a baby bottle that was found where hostages are known to have been held, in the basement of the Rantisi hospital in Gaza, that a woman who was kidnapped while pregnant, has given birth in captivity. That makes her child the youngest hostage, at the age of a few days at most.

While our kids and babies are being held hostage in dark basements and tunnels, Israel is offering Gazans medical assistance for their kids. At this link you can listen to a subtitled conversation (the article is in Hebrew, just scroll to the first embedded vid), where an IDF officer is offering the Shifa hospital manager to place at the entrance to the building 37 incubators and 4 respirators for the kids and babies. The officer also vows to the manager to help protect as much as possible the patients, wards and staff in the hospital. During the conversation, the offer is accepted, but the IDF says later it was rejected. As I can't see who would outrank the hospital manager, I'm guessing the "No" came from Hamas.

Rockets continue to be fired into Israel. Today, a rocket barrage at Tel Aviv, at a kids playground, left one person seriously wounded, and two moderately.

Thank you so much to the Israeli Nonnie who sent me this vid. Yes, that is exactly what I was talking about when I mentioned in my update yesterday, this is Hamas attacking Palestinians in order to take over this aid truck and get all of the food for themselves (the relevant footage starts 11 seconds in):

Jeremy Corbyn, the man who could have been the British Prime Minister, and who British Jews called out on antisemitism, was interviewed by Piers Morgan. He was asked 15 (arguably 16) times to answer the question whether Hamas is a terrorist group, but refused to give a reply.

I was listening to this interview with Ella Keinan (it's in Hebrew), an Israeli travel vlogger, who has started posting about the Israeli POV since Oct 8. She didn't say anything I didn't know, but I thought the way she phrased things was powerful, so allow me to translate:

They created a brand called Free Palestine, which is not actually freeing the Palestinians and giving them what they want, but under this brand it's possible to do anything nowadays, it's possible to rape, it's possible to slaughter, it's possible to kidnap, it's possible to abuse, to kill, it's possible to hurt and kill Jews in LA, it's possible to attack them at universities, and you'll still be applauded. Meaning, you'll still be popular. That's how powerful this brand is.

Meanwhile, Israel's foreign diplomacy has officially been shut down due to a lack of budget. A lot of government offices are being shut down, and their budget is being re-directed to help the evacuated, the families of the murdered, the injured, financially supporting people whose businesses have collapsed, compensating those whose homes were destroyed by Palestinian rockets. So when you hear people dismissing regular Israelis' posts as paid propaganda by the Israeli government... what a fucking joke, Israel can't even currently pay professionals in this field, let alone regular people.

This is 19 years old Noa Marziano.

Yesterday, Hamas published a vid of her as a hostage. The Israeli media refused to cooperate with the psychological warfare, no one published it. Today, the IDF was able to confirm that Noa was murdered in captivity.

This is 12 years old Liel Hetzroni.

Her mother Shira, after gaving birth to her and her twin brother, suffered brain damage, and couldn't take care of her kids, so they were raised by their grandparents. Liel's grandfather and brother's bodies were already found. Today, after having been missing for 38 days, Liel's death was also pronounced.

This is 75 years old Vivien Silver.

She was a peace activists. Among other things, she used to volunteer her time driving Gazans to medical treatments in Israel. She was thought to be kidnapped in Gaza, but today her body was identified.

May their memories be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[seat-safety-switch]

Have you ever welded? It's one of those essential skills that makes the modern world possible. Without the ability to melt a chunk of metal into another chunk of metal, why, we wouldn't have playground equipment. Or stair railings. Or, less importantly, bridges. And we certainly wouldn't have cars.

I'm not very good at welding, although I certainly appreciate the subculture. I couldn't get a job doing it. One of the reasons why is because my entire childhood consisted of folks telling me that I'd never have to do it.

When I was growing up, there was a hue and cry from the intelligentsia about the rise of automated assembly. Robots could weld better than any human being: perfectly, consistently, quickly, and without getting tired or going on strike for being mistreated. It was not just inevitable for the capitalists to replace the humble human worker: it was imperative.

Of course, we live in a future where the British still make cars out of wood, and the robots aren't cost-effective in every case. Most of the reason why is that the robots have no judgment, no taste, no common fucking sense. If you put a Toaster Strudel® in front of them, they'll try to weld it together. A huge number of humans are involved just to make sure the robot has a car in front of it, and the car is in the right spot. So many so, in fact, that it would probably be faster for some welds just to do it yourself. This is a situation not unfamiliar to those of you with toddlers, small dogs, or bosses.

In the end, I got a job where I talk to a bunch of other human beings, before I tell a computer what to do. And I picked up the welding skill on my own, mostly so I could stitch all the garbage cars made by those welding robots back together as soon as they'd been exposed to only a few decades of road salt. Sure, I could buy a robot of my own, the bankrupt factories are throwing them out on the curb, but... now you know why I don't.

[spectaculardistractions]

Violent Playground (1958) summarizes the delinquency problems of pre-Beatles Liverpool. This time the good influence does come from the boys' own background; but what the film gives with one hand it takes away with the other. He's a tough policeman (Stanley Baker), and even less dissasociated from the official line than good real life probation officers so often are. Its documentary-style location photography made a great impression on critics at the time, but its study of delinquency is infinitely cruder than the earlier film's. Delinquent David McCallum's sister is clearly much more sensible than he is, from the moment that she speaks with an ever so much nicer accent, while the priest and the headmaster radiate their respective kinds of benevolence... Our would-be tough-cookie takes a whole class of kids as hostages, and brandishes a machine-gun with which to mow the coppers down, but still winds up as a blubbering little boy.

Raymond Durgnat, A Mirror for England