#when i told my family i was spending a couple nights in edinburgh every said of you HAVE to go to glasgow.
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doxxing myself but i think glasgow is a great city. i personally just don't want to be here
#when i told my family i was spending a couple nights in edinburgh every said of you HAVE to go to glasgow.#i dont drink i dont go clubbing. the museums are fine#but they close at 5pm so im just. killing time. im going to see a show at 7:30 i hope its like 4 hours long#also i knew id get like. tired and irritated after 3 days of travel. i know me i should not have let anyone talk me into another night#OR i should have made my parents pay for a hotel room instead lol
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Ma Petite Chérie: Babymoon (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)
Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!
Summary: Harry and Y/N go on their babymoon.
Warnings: pregnancy, smut, fluff
Word Count: 6.4k
Author’s Note: Hello! I wrote this in order to cross off a few requests. I promised Harry and Y/N would have a baby of their own, plus I get asks all of the time to write pregnancy sex - specifically awkward, giggly pregnancy sex. I also got one about Harry getting a love boner, so here is my attempt at shoving all of that down your throat at once. Try not to choke :-) I also just reallllllly love Harry, Y/N, and Tallulah, so I wanted to give them some more love. Also made this one pornstache!Harry, so, there’s that. And one last thing...I know the verb tense is way off in this but I could not be arsed to edit it so plz don’t drag me. I hope everyone enjoys! Take care and TPWK.
“Oh my god,” Y/N huffed as she collapsed on the plush sofa in the living room of the cottage.
“It feels so fucking good out here by the water.”
“Breeze is nice, innit?” Harry replied as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets to check out how well the place he’d rented for the week was stocked.
“Beats going t’ France at the end of June. Think I’m kinda gettin’ tired of Paris t’ be honest.”
“That is quite possibly the snobbiest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Mr. Styles,” she said with a laugh as she began to flip through the tourist brochures that were left on the coffee table.
Not that they’d be partaking in any of it, no. Their plan was to hole up in the quaint, Scottish cottage that sat right on the coast of the North Sea for the whole week, not even planning on changing out of their pajamas.
It was their babymoon after all - a time of peace and tranquility before the arrival of their first child together.
Harry hummed and he made his way from the kitchen to where Y/N was seated on the couch. He stood behind her, knees knocking against the back of the sofa as he crouched down and wrapped his arms around her very large, very swollen belly.
“If I recall correctly, Mrs. Styles, I sat my injured arse in a stiff train seat to Edinburgh for five hours because someone was too scared to fly even though they were cleared to do so by three separate doctors.”
“’M not Mrs. Styles for another year and a half,” Y/N muttered under her breath, albeit not trying to keep Harry from hearing it in the slightest.
Harry snickered into her neck, then playfully nipped her earlobe with his teeth as he whispered.
“Not my fault yeh got knocked up and we had t’ push the wedding.”
“It is very much your fault, Harry,” Y/N swatted at his face, fingers first brushing his jawline that was covered in a rough stubble and then just barely tracing the full-blown mustache that sat like a caterpillar above his bright pink top lip.
Harry smirked down at her, nostrils flaring wide and lips disappearing inside of his mouth.
“How’s your rib?” Y/N asked suddenly.
“Good. Why?” Harry’s brows quickly furrowed together in confusion as to why she was asking about his injury.
“Might have to ride that later if you’ve got the lungs for it,” she tapped her index and middle fingers along her philtrum, right where Harry’s mustache sat on his own face.
Her blunt lewdness had Harry’s cock immediately growing stiff in his pants. It had been a while. His injury coupled with her being in the last trimester of her pregnancy had left them both feeling unsatisfied for the past several weeks. Maybe this babymoon would prove to be relaxing not only because Harry and Y/N get to spend a week without a rambunctious almost six-year-old screaming at all hours of the day, but for other reasons too.
“Think I’d actually drop dead from happiness if yeh sat on m’ face right now, lovie. But, before yeh get too comfortable with that idea, we need t’ head into town. Kitchen’s only got the necessities, and I doubt yeh want t’ eat homemade bread for a week.”
“I’m sure you’d love to eat homemade bread for a week,” Y/N jested, poking fun at Harry’s latest obsession with the carb-filled food.
“Remind me again why I put up with you?” Harry toyed as he extended his arms out towards Y/N to use as leverage to help her hoist herself up from the couch.
When she regains her balance, she lifts herself up just slightly to press a quick kiss to Harry’s lips that he happily accepts. Y/N hums and jokingly checks the imaginary watch that sits on her wrist.
“How much time do you have? That list is pretty long.”
//
The trip to one of the only supermarkets in the small part of Edinburgh that they were staying in had proved to be rather tiring, because Harry opted to use store-bought pasta instead of making his own - something he never does. Maybe it was his healing rib causing him to be short-winded, but he simply could not bring himself to hand-make the pasta they chose to have for dinner that night. He bitched about it all night, about how it wasn’t as chewy as it should be and how it would have tasted much better if he would have just made it himself, but it still didn’t deter him from helping himself to a second serving.
He claimed it was because while he did use pre-cooked pasta, he didn’t use sauce from a jar and made his own from fresh tomatoes and that was the appeal. Y/N just thinks Harry likes to complain and listen to himself talk.
After dinner, just as the sun was setting and Harry and Y/N were waiting for their pasta to digest before they dove into the box of fresh pastries from a bakery they found along the way, they decided to take a walk around the property. The renovated, stone cottage that was overgrown with vines and leaves sat along a short cliffside that overlooked the North Sea. It was a short walk down the cliff that brought them to the beach, where mist from the ocean whisped around their legs and ankles like a thin veil of smoke. While it was the middle of summer, Scotland’s persistent rain showers and their proximity to the water never made it too hot to bear.
“Lulah would love it out here. We’ll have to bring her when the baby’s older.”
“She realIy would,” Harry agreed as he wrapped his sweater further around his chest.
“Know yeh didn’t give birth t’ her, but I swear you two are just alike sometimes. Absolutely hates bein’ hot and gettin’ sweaty just like you.”
Y/N smiled softly and knowingly at Harry before reaching into the pocket of the patchwork sweater of Harry’s that she’d stolen for their stroll on the beach for her phone.
“I’m gonna call her.”
She picked up on the third ring, Y/N’s phone screen then illuminated with a live image of a gap-toothed Tallulah. Well, it’s Mitch’s phone, but she’d been waiting for this promised FaceTime call all day so of course she’s quick to answer.
“Mummy!”
Both Y/N’s and Harry’s heart swelled in their chest when they heard Tallulah speak. It had been several months since she’d decided to start referring to Y/N as her mother, but neither of them had grown used to it just yet. Y/N felt a sense of achievement in “earning” the title of being Tallulah’s mum after all of the years she’d spent with her, and Harry felt a sense of resolution. His family was a real family now, and not just a patchwork of awkward relationships and trust issues. Y/N was Tallulah’s mum and she was now seven months pregnant with their own child and they’d be married by the end of next year. He was actually there to see his child grow this time, they weren’t a secret kept from him out of spite. He’d be there for all of it, even the gross and bloody and goopy bits. And he’d never felt more complete.
“Hi, baby,” Y/N beamed from ear to ear.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re walking on the beach,” Y/N answered.
“Want to see it?”
The five-year-old (five and three-quarters if you asked Tallulah herself) nodded quickly, and Y/N then flipped the camera around to show her the view of the water. Y/N pointed out their cottage from where they stood in the sand, turning the camera to Harry briefly as he held up a peace sign so Tallulah could see that her dad was also on the beach with her. She told her all about the train ride there and how Harry almost slipped and broke his face when was carrying his and Y/N’s luggage into the cottage.
Harry listened to his two little loves talk back and forth with the biggest smile on his face as he absent-mindedly scoured the beach for rocks he could skip along the water. He noticed whenever Tallulah said something that Y/N thought was funny, she had to cup her bump with her hand and forearm to keep it from shaking her entire body. She told him she hated laughing now, because it made her look like Santa Claus, but Harry thought she couldn’t look more beautiful.
“That’s so pretty! Can we all go when the baby is here?” Tallulah asked, puckering into a pout as she begged.
“I think that’s a great idea, Lulah. We were just talking about that, weren’t we, Harry?”
Harry perked up from where he had been washing a sandy shell off in the ocean and suddenly appeared in view of the camera and took the phone from Y/N.
“Hmm?” he asked as he studied Tallulah’s appearance.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mitch to watch his baby girl while he went away for a week with his other baby girl, it was that him and Sarah voluntarily asked to babysit Tallulah and that’s what made him so apprehensive to accept their offer. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about a sleepover at Uncle Mitch and Aunt Sarah’s every now and then, but to want to watch his daughter for an entire week certainly was. Harry felt like Mitch was plotting against him and that he’d come back to Tallulah with bright blue hair and bangs or she’d be sporting the world’s worst potty mouth when she came home, but so far that didn’t seem to be the case.
She was wearing Harry’s “Dream Boat” shirt that she’d claimed as her own a few years back when Y/N had taught her to wear her father’s clothes when she missed him because the smell would remind her of him (he had to steal it back and sleep in it a few times every now and then to keep his scent on it), and her long, brown hair was damp and neatly braided into two plaits and hanging off her shoulders. That had to have been Sarah’s doing, because Harry knew Mitch could barely put his own hair into a ponytail without creating several lumps and redoing it eighteen times before it looked presentable - meaning he certainly wouldn’t have been able to make a five-year-old sit still long enough to braid her hair perfectly.
She looked fine, though. Happy, healthy, certainly didn’t have blue hair or bangs and hadn’t said a single naughty thing since she’d been on the phone with Y/N.
“Lulah wants us to come back here after the baby’s born and take her with us,” Y/N beamed.
“I think we can work that out. Sounds quite lovely, actually,” Harry concurred.
“Yeh bein’ good for Mitch and Sarah?”
“Mhmm,” Tallulah nodded.
“We had pizza for dinner.”
“That sounds yummy,” Harry enthused, trying to let his daughter know he had his full attention.
“It was bery good,” she sighed.
There was a long pause before Tallulah blurted out suddenly in the most serious tone, “When are you gonna shave the rest of your mustache? Mitchy was making fun of you today.”
Harry was caught between a gasp and a laugh, which resulted in him choking on his own spit. Y/N turned on her heels in the sand to look at him with wide eyes.
“You okay?” Y/N mouthed quietly to Harry, completely oblivious to everything that had happened in the last thirty seconds.
Harry nodded, wiping the involuntary tears from his eyes as he coughed himself back to life and regained his composure.
“What exactly did Uncle Mitch say about my mustache?” he prodded.
Tallulah shrugged, subconsciously wiggling her loose bottom tooth with her tongue.
“Don’t ‘member. Just that you look weird with it.”
“Well that’s not a very nice thing t’ say, is it?”
“Mummy said you look weird, too,” Tallulah spouted without hesitation.
Her comment left Y/N’s mouth agape, covering her smile with her palm as Harry’s raised eyebrows feigned offense in her direction.
“She did?” Harry asked sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Yeah,” Tallulah sighed as if it was exhausting having to tell your own father that his facial hair looks off-putting.
“I think you should shave it, too. It’s scratchy when you kiss me goodnight.”
All Harry could offer in return was stunned laughter while Y/N hid her face in Harry’s peck. Her bump pressed lightly into his and even though he was pretending to be mad at her, he wouldn’t dare think about pushing her off of him - not while she was this warm and cozy against his chest.
“Well, if mummy really hates it I suppose I’ll get rid of it. But,” Harry pauses and pulls Y/N out from where she had burrowed her face into his sweater.
“I think I might know a trick that’ll convince her t’ let me keep i-”
“Enough!” Y/N exclaimed, clamping both of her hands around Harry’s mouth.
Harry chuckled against her palm and poked his tongue through his lips to lick her fingers, which sent her hands flying back down to her leggings so she could wipe them dry.
“I swear to god, Harry. You’re five years old,” she joked with a disgusted expression on her face, to which Tallulah had something to say to that.
“No, I’m five years old!”
The two adults laughed in unison.
“Alright, Lulah. We’re gonna go inside now. ‘S gettin’ kinda cold out,” Harry said.
“We’ll call you tomorrow before bed. Alright, lovebug?” Y/N added.
“Okay,” Tallulah huffed.
“We love you, Lulah,” Harry spoke softly into the microphone.
“Love you, too...Daddy wait!”
“What is it?” he asked.
“Give the baby kisses for me. And no bikes!”
Harry wanted to laugh, but he also wanted to cry, so he settled on a closed-mouthed smile that was enough to convince Tallulah that he was unbothered by what she said.
“Kisses for the baby and no bikes. Got it,” he nodded.
“Okay, I’m gonna go eat some sweets with Sarah!” the child yelled, suddenly energetic like she had temporarily forgotten that her and Sarah had baked cookies twenty minutes before Y/N called.
“Alright, but it’s almost bed time so not too m-!” was all Harry could answer to before his daughter ended the call and presumably raced to where ever Sarah was in their house.
“‘S like she doesn’t even miss us,” Harry mumbled as he placed Y/N’s phone in his back pocket and began walking back up to the cottage with his arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulder.
Y/N hummed, basking in the warmth that radiated from Harry’s chest as he held her.
“They’re just buttering her up. She’ll be crying to leave by the time we get back.”
“Just don’t really know why they were so keen on keepin’ her t’ be honest.”
Harry positioned himself one step behind her as they walked up the stone steps together, keeping one hand on the small of her back. Y/N peered over her shoulder at him, her tight lips curling up into a smirk as if to say she knew something he didn’t.
“What?” Harry asked.
Y/N shrugged, “Promised I wouldn’t tell.”
Harry clearly didn’t like that answer, because he moved his hand that was supporting her waist and quickly pinched her bum.
“Tell me,” he demanded, eyebrows scrunched together and lips pursed together in what could be considered a childish pout that mimicked Tallulah’s.
Y/N sucked her lips into her mouth, contemplating whether or not she should spill the beans on the news Sarah had shared with her a few weeks prior.
“They’re gonna start trying for a baby soon,” she whispered as if were a long-kept secret told in a room full of nosey people despite the two of them being alone on the otherwise desolate beach.
Harry’s ears perked up, a wide smile adorning his face from ear to ear.
“No fucking way,” he mumbled, and suddenly all of Mitch’s incessant hammering of baby questions he’d sent Harry’s way in the past few months suddenly making a lot of sense.
Harry thought he was trying to be a good friend and stay engaged in Y/N’s pregnancy, but now he understands the real reason behind his behavior.
Y/N nodded deviously as they make their way into the living room of the cottage.
“They’ve been asking everyone they know with kids to let them come over just to see if they can handle it. I mean, if you ask me, I think they’ll do great. Nothing wrong with trying it before buying it, I guess,” she said with a shrug.
“God, he’s gonna be such a good dad,” Harry was practically beaming for his closest friend.
“I know,” Y/N agreed, walking over to Harry to hold both sides of his head in her hands as if he was a disobedient puppy being disciplined.
Her bump prevented her from getting too close to Harry’s chest, the roundest part of her belly nudging Harry’s tummy.
“They’re both very excited. Which is why, when he finally decides to tell you, you have to act surprised. Act like he told you you just won the lottery or something. Alright?”
Harry sarcastically changed his facial expression to mock bewilderment. His eyebrows rose well off into his forehead and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor as he gasped.
“How’s that? Think he’ll buy it?”
Y/N jokingly jabbed him in the shoulder.
“Smartass. I’m going to take a shower. I’m sticky and I smell like the ocean.”
“Guess I gotta keep workin’ on it, then.”
When he’s done cleaning up what was left of their dinner, he heads to the master bedroom with the intention of washing up in the shower after Y/N. He’s messing around with the A/C unit on the window to make sure it’s not set to a temperature that will smother them in their sleep and unpacking their luggage into the wooden dresser, where an antique turntable rests.
Stacked long the side of the record player, there was a handful of old vinyl, most of which Harry either recognized or new very well. He was actually shocked to find a Shuggie Otis album in the collection, to which he quickly slipped the record out of the worn sleeve and set the needle to the edge and waited for the soft sound to fill the room while he worked.
“That thing works?” Y/N’s voice broke up the old 70s tune as she exited the bathroom with her hair tied up with one of Harry’s scrunchies that she stole out of his toiletry bag, wrapped in only a towel that barely fit around her form.
“I know,” Harry agreed, “Needs a new needle but other than that ‘s in pretty good shape.”
“Leave it to you to find a rental with 70s records in the bedroom,” there was a lighthearted tone in her voice as Y/N poked fun at him.
She padded over to her luggage in the corner of the room for a change of clothes, only to realize Harry had unpacked it all for them. As she’s rummaging through the drawers trying to figure out where Harry had put what, she lets her towel drop to the floor freely.
Harry doesn’t know how must time has passed, but he knows he’s staring. He’s staring at the water droplets that drip from the stray hairs on the nape of her neck and run down her bare back. He’s staring at the swell of her stomach where their baby lies, at the faded, almost-shiny stretch marks on the sides and the newer, darker ones on the underside that had only recently broken through. He’s staring at the bracelet on her wrist, the one that’s braided pink and blue with three beads on it - one ‘H’, one ‘T’ and one heart. Tallulah made it for her at school one day and told her the heart was for the baby and also because she loved her. It was hanging on by its last few threads, threatening to snap as each day passed, but she refused to take it off.
All he does know is that he loves her so much that he thinks none of this is real and that he’ll wake up one day and be in his early twenties again with no direction in life and the insidious feeling that he’ll die alone without ever finding his “person.” It’s when Y/N called out to him and snapped him out of his thoughts that he’s realized his underwear are suddenly feeling incredibly tight.
“Har,” Y/N beckoned him away from whatever had been occupying his brain.
“Hmm?”
He resituated himself on the bed and crossed his legs in an attempt to hide himself from her.
“I said the hot water in there’s kinda shit, so you’ll probably want to wait a little bit before you get in.”
“‘S alright,” Harry dismisses, “Come ‘ere.”
He draws her towards him with an outstretched hand, navigating her around the bedpost and over to the side where he had been sitting. With the gentlest of touches, he runs his fingers over her bare legs. The coolness of his rings don’t make well with her skin that was still extremely warm from her shower, causing hundreds of tiny goosebumps to erupt around her thighs. Harry raises her shirt, one of his that she stole when her own clothes became too uncomfortable, but even now she’s nearly stretching this one to its limit, and rests it on top of her bump.
She doesn’t question him, doesn’t chastise him. She lets him love on her, lets him press kisses to her skin just above her belly button (making sure to give an extra one from Tallulah per her request) and rest his cheek against her stomach while his other hand feels around on the other side in hopes to feel the baby move or kick or do something to let him know that they’re there. Lucky for Harry, baby knows when their dad is around and is quick to make themselves known, so he takes a second to savor these last few moment he’ll have with his newest bub before they’re earth-side in a little less than two months.
Y/N lets him be because she knows how important this is to Harry. She knows that he never got these moments with Tallulah and that it’s one of the things that plagued him during those nights where he feels lonely despite her being asleep right next to him. He never got to feel her kick in her mum’s tummy and he didn’t get to see her grow from the size of a pea to the size of a melon before she was welcomed by her parents and the rest of her family that had been waiting anxiously for her arrival.
No, Tallulah was dropped on his doorstep like a wet kitten in the middle of the night. Shivering and crying and just needing someone to hold her and tell her that it was going to be alright because her mother had decided she’d be better off elsewhere. Of course, she was too small to remember, but Harry could never forget it.
So, it’s the least she can do. To let Harry love on her. Love on them.
Her eyes catch his once or twice and she can see the gears in his head turning. There’s something on his mind and he’s hesitant to tell her what it is. Y/N lifts his head by tilting his chin up, her index finger brushing over the healed scar on the underside of his jaw from a few months prior.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” she whispered.
Harry shakes his head, a grin on his lips.
“‘M just really, really happy right now. Happy tha’ I’m here w’ you.”
Y/N smiles back at him genuinely before pulling away from his grasp and gesturing to his lap.
“And I’m happy that I’m here with you. Seems like your little friend is really happy, too.”
A soft groan emits from Harry chest, having realized he’d uncrossed his legs at some point and his very prominent bulge had come into Y/N’s view.
“Sorry, lovie. Didn’t mean t’ make it like tha-”
“I’m just messing with you. You know,” she ponders, “I was half-way kidding when I asked about your lungs earlier. But... This will be the last time we’re kid-free for a while,” she taunted.
“Are yeh asking?” Harry jests and points his thumb towards the bathroom door, “‘Cos I was actually plannin’ on just having a wank in the shower.”
“Oh, okay,” Y/N shrugs and moves his hands off of her waist as she pretends to walk towards the living room.
Before she can take two steps, Harry’s standing up and pulling her back into him for a kiss. It’s full of heat and passion and almost knocks Y/N off of her feet. He cradles her head in his large hands and moves to whisper in her ear.
“Really gonna let me fuck yeh?”
A quiet chuckle escapes her lips, to which she replies, “What else did you think we were gonna do all week?”
He’s unable to bite back his own laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace Y/N’s ears.
“Then get on the bed and take yeh clothes off.”
They work quickly, as they’ve conditioned themselves to do over the years of squeezing in any time they can together before they’re interrupted. Y/N lies back on her elbows as she waits for Harry to undo his pants and her breath catches in her throat when his boxers hit the floor.
His cock is hard, not fully, but the sight of the first few beads of glistening precum causes a shiver to run down her spine. She’s blown him a handful of times since he’s been in recovery, but she’s been far too pregnant and he’s been far too injured lately to engage in any kind of actual fun. It’s safe to say that they’re both more than ready.
Harry scratches at his scalp, unsure of how to word his questions as he looks her body up and down.
“How do you...erm...how do you wanna-?”
“My stomach, please,” Y/N says with a laugh.
She quickly reaches for one of the pillows behind her and gets on all fours, wedging the object underneath her bump to keep some of the weight off of her back. Slowly, she arches her spine down towards the mattress, and the glimpse Harry catches of her pussy through the light of the setting sun is enough to send another jolt straight to his cock.
Harry wastes no time joining her on the bed, caressing her hips and moving back to massage the plump skin of her ass. He leans down on top of her, flips her hair over to one side, and begins sucking on the sensitive skin between her neck and jaw.
“Gonna let me taste yeh first, right?” he mumbles into her skin.
Y/N hums in response, attempting to rock backwards in order to feel Harry’s cock rub against her backside. She hears Harry laugh, presumably because he’s caught on to her neediness, so it only pushes him further to be the tease he’s notorious for being.
He sponges wet kisses down her back, getting a rise out of every audible breath that leaves Y/N’s throat.
“Relax, baby,” Harry says when he feels her growing tenser as his kisses travel closer to where she needs him the most.
“Gonna get yeh there. Just gotta be patient.”
Harry presses one last kiss on the final notch of her spine before using one of his hands to spread her legs open just a little bit further. When he parts the globes of her ass, his mouth waters. Her pussy is shimmering with her arousal, perfect and on display just for him.
He tests the waters by running the tip of his tongue from her clit up to her center and he hears a sigh of relief leave Y/N’s lungs at the contact. Next, he’s massaging her folds, exploring her and refamiliarizing himself with the way she tasted. Harry feels her relax into the mattress with each lap of his tongue against her, silently begging him for more. His tentativeness allows him to read her body language and he draws back momentarily to spread her lips apart with his middle and index finger.
The cool air against her core stuns Y/N, but is quickly drowned out with a moan when she feels Harry’s warm saliva drip from her ass down to her clit. His mouth is back on her before she can recover from the sensation, lapping her up and flicking at her clit with his tongue and driving her mad. He’s got his nose buried inside of her as he devours her in the way that he’s really been yearning to for months (he doesn’t count the late night or early morning quickies because he claims he never gets to spend as much time taking care of her as he really wants to). The scruff from his mustache is staunch against her soft folds, but Harry’s tongue is quick to soothe the burn and she loves it.
He smirks against her as she lets out a particularly loud moan when his facial hair brushes against her clit. What was that about shaving my mustache? he thinks to himself but does not dare say aloud.
When he senses that she needs even more, his fingers move from spreading her apart to pressing against her opening. Gathering her wetness on his digits, he slowly pumps them in and out of her. Y/N’s mewls and whimpers are like music to his ears and only spurs him on further. He ruts his hips against the comforter, anything to relieve the throbbing between his legs that is a result of how pliable she’s become for him. She’s soaking the rings on his fingers in the most picture-perfect way and Harry truly genuinely can’t get enough of it; and neither can she. Which is why he’s confused when one of her hands swings around her backside to stop Harry from working her open.
“Har-” she pants.
He withdrawals all contact immediately and peaks his head around to look at her face.
“Yeh good?” he asks as she’s stands up on her knees and turns around to face him.
“‘M great. Wanna be on top now,” she says, her lips plump and swollen from biting down on them so harshly that she nearly drew blood.
“You sure? Yeh don’t want me t’ finish yeh first?”
His eyes dart from her lust-blown eyes to her round belly.
“Mhm. Now lay your pretty ass down before I change my mind.”
She doesn’t have to tell him twice and he’s rolling over on his back, working his way to prop himself up against the headboard. His cock is red and leaking against his stomach, excruciatingly waiting to be buried inside of his girl. He wonders why she’s staring at him with an annoyed expression on her face, but then she speaks up.
“Do you see how pregnant I am? Gonna have to lay all the way down, shit head.”
He does as he’s told and he’s honestly scared that he’ll cum in five seconds if she doesn’t get on with it.
“I swear to god, if you laugh at me,” she grunts as she straddles his waist, “I’ll cut it off.”
“‘M not gonna lau-”
It’s his turn to moan aloud when she grips onto his cock, running it across her folds to collect as much wetness as she can before she allows him to stretch her out. He’s focusing so much on not losing it right then and there that he doesn’t realize she’s stopped and is waiting for the go-ahead. Through his dark, thick lashes, he nods; as if she would have to ask.
Harry reaches for her hands as she lowers herself onto him, the two of them squeezing a bit too harshly when she reaches the last few inches. The burn consumes Y/N from the inside and out, but it’s never felt so right to either of them.
She’s not moving just yet, but her cunt is pulsing around him and it feels almost as good as the real thing. They’re staring at each other, both with looks that relay more than words.
“Love you,” Harry’s face softens as he looks up at her.
“Love you, too,” Y/N smiles as she leans down as far as she can in search of a kiss.
He meets her in the middle and their lips find one another and mash together in harmony. The rocking of their hips reminds both of them what they’re actually doing, and causes both of them to gasp at the way Y/N pumped Harry half-way in and out of her.
When she’s settled back down on the base of his cock, she begins slowly rutting herself back and forth. It takes her just a little bit longer than usual to work up a steady rhythm, but when she’s got it, boy does she got it and it feels so fucking good. The tip of Harry’s cock is pressing against the deepest parts of her and before she knows it, there’s a warm coil winding up in her tummy that bounds itself tighter and tighter inside of her.
She needs to go faster and she needs to go faster now, so she braces her hands on Harry’s chest as she continues to fuck herself on Harry’s cock. Harry lets out a sound that she can’t tell apart between a groan of pleasure and one of pain. His hands dart quickly from where they’d been gripping at her thighs to grip at her wrists.
“Can’t do tha’, lovie. Not the ribs.”
“Shit,” she laughs, subconsciously clenching down on his shaft in the process.
“Sorry.”
“‘S okay,” Harry reassures her as he repositions her hands on his shoulders so she can still have something to grab on to.
“Keep going.”
Her bump is now cradled against Harry’s stomach and it allows her to find relief in the way that her clit is brushing against the trimmed nest of hair that lies around the base of his thick, throbbing cock. He’s twitching inside of her so much that she can feel it alongside her thrusts as they continue. They both won’t last much longer and they know it.
“‘M getting close.”
“I know,” Harry pants beneath her.
She switches positions, now with her fingers digging so hard into the meat of Harry’s thighs that her knuckles are changing color. She’s able to lift her hips up and down a bit more from this angle, and it allows Harry’s cock to nudge against her sweet spot.
“Feels so good, H,” she whimpers so quietly that almost Harry couldn’t even hear it.
“‘S that it? Right there?” he mocks as he works at meeting her thrusts with his own.
The best he gets from Y/N is a nod as she focuses the best she can on getting herself there. She’s coating him with her juices with each pump and with one glance down at where they’re joined together nearly shoots Harry over the edge.
“Yeh gonna cum f’ me?” Harry asks as his thumb reaches under her to begin rubbing circles on her clit.
“Gonna give me a good one?”
His movements coupled with his words catalyze the tightness within her, threatening to snap at any moment. She’s definitely sweaty and tired of being on top, but she’s so close now that she wills away the pain in her lower back and thighs.
“Come on, bunny. Give it to me.”
He works with that he can and makes sure he’s slamming into her as deep as he can, speeding up the pace he’s making with her clit in the process.
She cums with a strangled, “Fuck,” and a shrill cry of his name, and that’s all he needs to meet his end as well. The world is black and quiet for the two of them for just a brief moment, and then they’re both seeing all of the stars in the galaxy.
Her walls are coated with the warm ropes of his seed and spills out of her as she milks him, coaxing all she can out of both hers and Harry’s orgasms. Y/N can feel the last few twitches of Harry’s cock inside of her and her movements slow to a stop.
His cum is splashed along her inner thighs and around Harry’s shaft, and they’re both struggling to catch their breath. Y/N feels sorry for him for a brief second when she sees him clutching onto the left side of his ribs, but then she remembers the situation that put him there in the first place and great incredible fuck she just gave him and so she decides not to dwell on it too much.
Serves him right.
She collapses on the bed beside him, the two of them staring idly at the ceiling. It’s nearly dark now, the sun having set long ago and only their silhouettes are visible in the moonlight. Harry reaches over to pet her cheek and press a kiss into her hair as their breathing slowly but surely evens out and they come to.
They’re both too tired and fucked out to have a lucid conversation, so they’ll save that for tomorrow. No. Right now was for cuddles and falling asleep to the sounds of each other’s soft breaths and the peace of mind knowing that they can do this every single night for the rest of their lives if they wanted to because they’re getting married and they have a family together and they’re so in love with each other that nothing else matters.
When Y/N finally manages to muster up the energy to lift herself from the mattress and waddle to the bathroom, Harry breaks the silence.
“Hey,” his voice is calm and collected and there’s a smirk on his face.
“Hmm?” she answers as she cranes her neck and braces herself on the door frame of the master bathroom.
Her other hand is caressing her bump, a tick that she’d picked up over the months whenever she wasn’t doing anything important.
“Sit on m’ face in the morning?”
There’s that laugh again. The one that Harry loves and swears came straight from the angels above.
“With pleasure,” she winks as the door closes behind her.
#harry styles x reader#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#dad!harry x reader#dad!harry styles#dad!harry#dad!harry styles x reader#dad!harry x pregnant!reader#harry styles x pregnant!reader
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“[…]the characters who get much more of the spotlight are unarguably the most adored by Good Omens fans—the demon Crowley (played to hissing, sashaying perfection by David Tennant) and his angel co-conspirator Aziraphale (an utterly cherubic Michael Sheen). Having said that, the execution of the duo’s story was something of a shock for a fan like me, who will freely admit to shipping the heck out of the pair for ages, and even reading and writing fanfic to that end. A bunch of it. And also to dressing up as Crowley and Aziraphale for Halloween with my partner. It’s well known that Crowley/Aziraphale shippers are a sizable contingent of the Good Omens fandom, to the point where both Gaiman and Pratchett had made note that they were aware of it, with Gaiman recently noting that fanfiction and its ilk is also Making Stuff Up, which is the same as all writing—though they did say that making the duo a couple was not their intent when they wrote the book.
Which is fascinating because this miniseries is emphatically a love story.
I know, I know: They say they’re friends, what’s wrong with friendship, you friend-hating fiend. But there are endless stories dedicated to platonic friendships between two male friends. (Or male-seeming in this case, as they are truly an angel and a demon, which then ultimately begs the question of whether conventional sexuality or gender should even apply for the two of them, and it likely shouldn’t, but that’s a fairly long digression…) While modern fiction seems to have a hard time understanding that it’s possible for men and women to “just be very good friends”, the precise opposite can be said for queer people. We’re always presumed to be “just very good friends” and nothing besides. Having said that, it is entirely possible for people of the same (or similar) gender to go from being true best friends to being in a relationship of some sort. It is also possible to say “you’re my best friend” and actually mean “I love you” or even “I’m in love with you.”
Exhibit A, when Crowley is making his way to Aziraphale’s flaming bookshop (he doesn’t know about the fire yet), the Bentley is playing Queen’s “You’re My Best Friend”—which is not an ode to frienship in general, but in fact a love song written by Queen’s bassist for his wife. Immediately thereafter, Crowley arrives and opens the doors to the bookshop, and being unable find the angel, promptly has a complete breakdown over the what he assumes to be Aziraphale’s death. It’s not the shock or disbelief over losing a friend that we can see in Crowley’s face, but utter desolation. “Somebody killed my best friend!” he screams, slumped on the floor in anguish. (Again, I remind you, John Deacon’s friend in the song that served as the cue for this whole scene was his spouse.) Crowley then immediately goes to a pub to get trashed, forgetting his plans to escape the Earth before the true Final Countdown because he’s just lost the most important person in all of creation to him… wait sorry, that’s Creation with a capital ‘C’.
The point is (as Crowley would say, drunkenly, before beginning a long-winded aside about dolphins), the entirety of the Good Omens miniseries unfolds with all the beats you’d expect of a romantic comedy/epic, and that is very much the hinge on which its enjoyability swings. It’s not just the song selection—“Somebody to Love” starts playing when Crowley exits the bookshop, believing that he’s lost Aziraphale; violins swell when the demon reveals to the angel that he has saved his beloved books from a bombing during the London Blitz in 1941—but the entirety of the plot. These alterations to the story seem to reach some sort of zenith during the deep dive into Crowley and Azirapahle’s “Arrangement” in episode three. The opening half hour of the episode works hard to create greater context for their six-thousand-year partnership, tracking them through the ages, and finally closes out in 1967 with the angel handing over a thermos of holy water to his dear friend, saying sadly “You go too fast for me, Crowley.”
He’s talking about Crowley’s driving. But of course he isn’t, because there is no context on this earth in which the words “you go too fast for me” are about being in a car, friends.
This is the part where the usual suspects roll their eyes because culture has endlessly enforced the idea that queerness is conditional and that “slash goggles” (i.e. viewing not-canonically-comfirmed characters as queer) should be derided and that the only person who should get a say in the sexuality of characters is the author—unless the author flat-out says their characters are queer, in which case, they should have made it more obvious if they expected anyone to believe that.
But this pairing is pretty damned (sorry, blessedly) obvious. It’s obvious in the way the Aziraphale bats his eyelashes at Crowley and grumps about the fact that his pristine old jacket now has paint on it, then smiles beatifically when the demon vanishes the stain by blowing gently on his shoulder—both of them knowing full well that Aziraphale can remove the stain himself with angelic will. It’s obvious in how angry Crowley gets when Aziraphale claims he’s “nice”, and Crowley shoves him up against a wall in a standard intimidation tactic that the angel barely registers as fury. It’s obvious in the way that Crowley sits across Aziraphale with a drink every time they’re out, and simply watches the angel indulge in rich foods. It’s right there even at the start, when the Angel of the Eastern Gate shelters the Serpent of Eden from the world’s very first rainstorm with one of his wings, through they both have a perfectly functional set to themselves.
We’re at a point in time where more and more writers and creators are perfectly aware that fans will see characters as queer whether they are written explicitly that way or not. Being aware of this—and not having anything against queer people—many of them say something to the tune of “you can view this relationship however you like, we’re cool with that”. It’s very nice. To some extent, it’s even incredibly helpful, because being okay with the queering of characters goes a long way in telling homophobic people that their vitriol toward queerness isn’t welcome. But when a huge swath of a fandom is queer, and certain characters are commonly rendered as queer to most of those fans, and then we are given a version of the story in which interpreting those characters as just great buddies is honestly taxing to one’s logical faculties… well, it’s hard not to wonder at what point the “straight” view of said characters is likely destined to become a minority interpretation one day.
Which is precisely where I found myself while watching Good Omens.
This clarity kept turning up and tuning in, even in the terms of their dear Arrangement; after Crowley suggests that they start doing work on each other’s behalves during a run-in in the 6th century, another meeting at The Globe in Shakespeare’s day sees Crowley bringing it up again, only to have Aziraphale try and shoot the idea down. “We’ve done it before… dozens of times now,” the demon wheedles, and he might as well be saying “But we’ve made out a lot lately, I think it’s time to accept that you like hanging out with me.” To make up for sending Aziraphale to Edinburgh, he agrees to infernally intervene to ensure that the Bard’s latest play (Hamlet) is a rousing success—and again, the angel offers up that ethereal smile and Crowley takes it as his compensation, as though it’s all he ever wanted in the world.
People may cry, stop shoving your sexuality in other people’s faces! (They always do, like a reliable clock striking the hour with a very irritating chime that you can’t seem to turn off.) But that’s hardly the point, is it? Because I didn’t say anything about sex, I said they were in love. And I’m having a very hard time finding any evidence to the contrary.
Critics and most of the internet have noticed how romantic the show is. The actors did as well, and talked endlessly of it in interviews. The series gives us longing glances and a messy breakup and drunken mourning and a canonical bodyswap (the stuff of fanfic dreams, my lovelies) where Aziraphale strips Crowley’s body down to its undergarments for the purpose of taunting Hell. At the point when everything threatens to blow up in their faces, Crowley asks—sorry no, he begs—Aziraphale to run away with him. And then when it’s all over, he invites the angel to spend the night at his place, and Aziraphale’s response is “I don’t think my side would like that” which is basically divine-speak for “I came out to my family and they’re not cool with it, so I’m not sure this is gonna work.” This has all the markings of the sort of Shakespeare play that Crowley appreciates: the funny ones where no one dies. And it ends on our couple having a lovely lunch in a fancy locale while a swoony love standard plays on in the background.
It’s odd to think that the fact that it took over two decades to produce a Good Omens series is part of the reason why the romantic aspect seems more unabashed than ever; in the book, plenty of people think Aziraphale is gay and that the angel and demon are a couple, but it’s done with that wink and nudge that was common around the turn of the century. These days, teasing at the idea that your core duo might seem a little gay to onlookers doesn’t constitute a ready joke because there’s nothing particularly funny about that suggestion when queer folks are fighting so hard to be seen and represented. And the lack of those winky moments, the way the story simply takes their codependency as a sweet given, makes Aziraphale and Crowley read even more genuinely as a pair. But if you had told me this was the version of Good Omens that I’d see in 2019, I’d have never believed a word. I was ready for extra background, more story, different jokes, but not this. Not confirmation that there are other angels and demons exchanging information and working together in Crowley and Aziraphale’s reality, but Heaven and Hell have a specific problem with their partnership because they clearly love each other too much.
And sure, you can read the story differently. You can choose to ignore those cues and enjoy a story about two very good friends who help to avert the apocalypse. I’m sure for some, that’s a more enjoyable take. But I’m more curious about whether or not, in twenty or thirty years time, people will think of the Good Omens series as anything but the story of an angel and a demon who spent six millennia figuring out that they should probably buy that cottage on the South Downs together.”
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Chapter Seventy-Six: Old Sarum
Disclaimer: see Prologue
____________________________________
Boxing Day, in general, was the last day the entire Mountbatten-Windsor family spent together. The men and a few of the women left early in the morning for the shoot & hunt, while the remaining women and children stayed behind, having a late breakfast. As Elle watched Charlotte, George and Mia play, she smiled, feeling her own child kick her.
“ You know, soon enough my niece or nephew will be doing exactly the same thing.”, said Kate to her, as they sat side by side in the sofa.
“ I still can’t believe you and Harry will have a baby so soon…”, said Kate chuckling. Elle smiled and nodded her head.
“ I know… it’s so surreal sometimes.”, she replied the older woman. “ But knowing Harry, you’d have guessed that he’d want children quite soon after we got married. And I had no objections…”, continued Elle.
As the the afternoon approached, and the pheasant hunt on the grounds of the estate - in which the Duke of Edinburgh took charge - was over, they had a hearty lunch, full of different types of game, including one of her favourites, game pie.
When lunch ended, around two in the afternoon, the majority of them prepared to leave; William, Catherine and the children would be going to Bucklebury, to Kate’s parents home, while the Tindalls would be traveling to Australia.
As for Harry and Elle, their journey to Salisbury was highly expected. Her parents and brother all having spent Christmas at Woondenford Castle, were eager to see her and her husband for the New Year’s celebrations. And of course, the soon to be, new addition to the family. All packed, they said their goodbyes to the family and boarded the train to Wiltshire. Elle couldn’t help but grin as they approached the familiar sight of Salisbury Cathedral, which could be seen from afar.
“ Excited, aren’t we?”, said Harry smirking. Elle’s smiled grew and she nodded her head.
“ I haven’t been back to Woodenford since before our wedding. It’s been months!”, said Elle.
“ Oh poor Lionheart must be missing me just as much as I miss him…”, she wondered, sadly.
“ I’m sure someone rode him for you… they wouldn’t let him stuck on his stall during all that time.”, replied Harry.
“ I know… I’m just annoyed I can’t ride him…”, mumbled Elle, sighing. Harry nodded his head, understandably and pulled her closer to him.
“ Don’t worry. You’ll be able to be back on a saddle soon enough. Meanwhile, there are other things you can ride. One that is in front of you, I might add.”, he said, whispering the last sentence on her ear. Shaking her head, she slapped his arm.
“ Behave, Major.”, she said giggling while Harry smiled.
************
Her parents were overjoyed to see her and Harry. With tight hugs and warm smiles they led the couple inside the stony castle. The familiar smells and sounds rushed into her, overwhelming her senses. Sighing, she dashed to the Great Hall, where she was happy to see the tall Christmas tree still standing in all of its glory.
Harry, who she left behind with their luggage, soon catch up to her and smiled as he watched his wife bewitched by the lit Christmas tree.
“ You can be such a child, you know…”, joked Harry. Elle didn’t even bother to look at him. Her sole focus was the ornament in front of her.
“ You know how much I love the holidays…”, she commented, going around the tree. “ I hope our child share that with me…”
“ I’m sure Nugget will think of it as magical as you do.”, replied Harry, coming beside her, his arms around her waist. Smiling softly, Elle leaned into him and sighed contently.
“ I know I’ve said this hundreds of times, but I can’t wait to meet our baby. I’ve started imagining what he or she will be like, how will our personalities mold into its life… Will Nugget be more like you or more like me? Or maybe he or she will be completely different from everything we’ve imagined. I can already picture our first Christmas together with Nugget. And I can’t wait for it to happen…”, said Elle.
************
During the days they spent at the castle, the couple joined the McClaire’s in every activity: from helping decorating the main hall to hunting and charades after dinner. But it was on the third day, on New Year’s Eve that they had a serious job to do: visit the Duke and Duchess of Wiltshire Foundation’s hq for the end of year soup kitchen and bazaar.
Every year, her parents foundation organised on both Christmas and New Year’s a soup kitchen as a form of celebration and also as a way to help and care for the ones who had barely nothing or simply the one who had no family to spend the holidays with.
And so, Elle and Harry were recruited to help prepared then serve the soup, hot drinks, water and a cozy blanket to all of those who showed up at the HQ. They were more than happy to do so. When the people started to enter, most recognised Elle and were somewhat comfortable with her but most of them were shocked in seeing Harry.
Unfortunately, word got out and the media was alerted, resulting in a number of pictures circulating on social media. Luckily, Ingrid and Alfred were there and helped contain the crowd. But in the end, they laughed and enjoyed their time, talking to whomever came up to them.
“ This reminds me a lot of when my mum began taking Will and I to a few shelter homes in London. It’s the same atmosphere.”, said Harry and Elle smiled, nodding her head.
“ It is, right? Do you still visit them?”, she asked him.
“ Not as much as I used to. I wish I could, now that you’ve mentioned it.”, said Harry.
“ Well, in that case, let’s talk to Ronald and see when we can. I want to come along.”, said Elle.
“ Darling, are you sure it’s wise? Our agendas are packed for the start of the year and you’ll be on your final trimester. You should be resting.”, said Harry, slightly worried.
“ I know that… but I’ll be fine.”, said Elle. “ I’m determined to keep on working until the last month of my pregnancy. Even further if I can.”
“ No one will think less of you if you stop working to take care of you and the baby. You know that, right?”, said Harry, running his hands on her arms.
“ I do. But I want to. I want to do all that I can. And if Georgiana says I’m fit enough to do it, I will, Harry. I’m not sick or an invalid.”, she replied.
“ Yes… I’m well aware of the superwoman I married.”, said Harry smiling. “ But you can’t deny a husband’s concern for his wife an unborn child, can you?”
“ No… I suppose I can’t…”, Elle replied smiling. Leaning in closer to him, she gently placed her lips on his, a sweet kiss, laced with love and care.
************
After they returned from the HQ, they prepared themselves for the cocktail party in the main hall. It would start much later in the night and go into the early hours of the new year. Among the guests, a few family members like Mary’s and Valerie’s parents, though Elle wasn’t sure if she’d be seeing either of them. Probably not.
Dress in a red med sleeved, knee high dress, her hair up in a ponytail, Elle smiled admiring herself on the mirror in her room. Her stomach was round now and looked so beautiful the dress’ deep burgundy, Christmassy colour. Caressing her belly, she smiled as she felt the baby kick.
“ Not much longer now, my little Nugget.”, she said.
“ Talking to your bump again sis? People will think you’re crazy.”, said Ed opening the door of the bedroom, unceremoniously.
“ Edward Thomas! You could have given me a heart attack!”, said Elle angrier and her brother just brushed it off, taking a sit on her bed.
“ And just so you know, yes I was talking to my child again. And it’s perfectly normal. Even encouraged.”, replied Elle, irritated. Ed laughed as he watched her.
“ I was messing with you, little sister. Of course it’s perfectly normal. I would talk non-stop if I were in your place. By the way, how is my niece?”, he said.
“ What makes you think it’s a girl?”, she asked him, raising one eyebrow.
“ I just have a feeling.”, said Ed blinking at her.
“ Well… Nugget is doing great. He or she just has a nag for kicking me…”, she replied giggling.
“ That must be painful.. ouch…”, said Ed making a face.
“ But worth it… as mother will tell you.”, Elle told her brother smiling.
“ Anyway, what are you doing here? Is there something you need?”, Elle asked him as she put on her earrings. She decided on wearing the ones Harry had gotten her for Christmas.
“ Oh yeah… mum is calling you. She’s in the library. She told me to tell you to come as soon as you were able.”, said Ed.
“ Alright. Tell her I’ll be down in a few.”, replied Elle.
“ Do I look like the Royal Mail?”, retorted Ed. “ She’ll wait. I still have to get changed.”, he continued and left the room, after kissing her temple. Elle shook her head and smiled. What are we going to do with you, Edward?, she thought.
When she finished her makeup, Elle made her away down the stairs, noticing how there were already a few people there, mingling and sipping on their drinks. She briefly greeted them and quickly dashed to the library. She found her mother seating on one of the sofas, a book in her hand.
“ Mother?”, Elle said, announcing her presence.
“ Elle darling. Thank you for coming.”, Victoria said. “ Come. Take a seat by me.”. Elle walked over to her mother and sat beside her on the fluffy sofa.
“ My darling I asked you here because I wanted to give you this.”, said Victoria, handing Elle the book she was holding.
“ This is in between a diary and a scrapbook of the women in our family. In there, you’ll find thoughts, stories and tips of their lives as mothers.”, said Victoria and Elle’s eyes widened.
“ How long have you had this?”, she asked her mother.
“ Since your brother was born. You see, it’s handed down from mother to daughter when her first child is born. It started with your great grandmother and now I’m continuing the legacy and passing it on to you. The binding was changed several times and pages were added with the years but it remains, in its essence, the same book. I hope this helps and inspires you, my darling.”, said Victoria, teary-eyed.
Elle looked from the leather-bound book in her hands to her mother. Feeling a surge of emotion hit her like a ton of bricks, Elle put the book aside and in one quick motion, hugged her mother tightly, as much as her belly allowed.
“ This is so incredible, mum. Thank you for trusting me with it. I treasure it forever.”, she said.
************
The cocktail party was an incredible success. Harry had been introduced by Elle to a number of family friends and colleagues from her parents, all of whom were delighted to meet and talk to him. Many of them, shared the same ideals and interests he had and were eager not only to listen to what he had to say on the subject but were more than happy to help and invest in some of his ventures, namely the Invictus Games, whose second edition would soon be announced.
As midnight approached, the couple joined the other guests in the garden for the countdown and fireworks display.
“ Do you remember the first time we came here after we we’ve seen each other again?”, asked Harry.
“ How can I not? You crushed my gala and we came here after we had danced together. I was so nervous for having you here.”, said Elle.
“ Really? I was petrified of your reaction when I decided to come to the gala.”, he said and she chuckled.
“ I wanted to kiss you so bad that day. You looked so beautiful and all the feelings I would have for you were beginning to surface.”, said Harry, making Elle smile.
“ I have to confess that I wanted to stay in your arms for a longer time than I had that evening. I too, was starting to feel something for you. I didn’t know yet that it was but it scared me.”, said Elle.
“ I think it’s safe to say we both were scared that night.”, said Harry and the couple chuckled.
“ But look how far we’ve come from that night, hun?”, said Elle, one hand resting on her growing stomach. “ We fell in love, we got engaged, married and now we starting a family. Of course we knew this marriage would happen, but who would have thought we’d get so lucky?”, she continued.
“ We are indeed the lucky ones, my love.”, said Harry, leaning closer to her just as the countdown was coming to and end. Their kiss was slow, loving, caring. They held each other tightly, their bodies’ warmth engulfing one another.
“ Happy New Year, my love.”, said Elle as they pulled away, noses still touching.
“ Happy New Year, my love, my wife, mother of my child.”, said Harry smiling.
************
Two-thousand and seventeen began with a kick. Quite literally for Elle. As she entered her 26th week of pregnancy, she was beginning to feel the true weight of her body. Her movements were slower, her lower back was a little stiff and she felt she got progressively more tired as the day came to and end. Georgiana had advised her about the change in her centre of gravity as well as the strain in her muscles and joints due to the new weight she’d be carrying.
Harry, ever the attentive husband, was promptly ready to give her back rubs, foot massages and draw warm, soothing baths for her. As they prepared for Nugget’s arrival, the couple tried to enjoy their last moments alone. As soon as they’d returned from Wiltshire, they had resumed their date night, which was a great idea to begin with and now proved to be an even better one, as they had found a comfortable routine around it.
Following epiphany, Elle got in touch with the midwife who taught Kate the hypnobirth technique, Helen. She was, indeed, as her sister-in-law had told her, a very sweet woman. Well, at least on the phone. They had scheduled a meeting at Kensington Palace later that week so they could start on the basis of hypnobirth and all she would need for the delivery.
“ Are you sure you want to do this?”, asked Harry.
“ I am. I’ve done a little research and it seems as good as any birthing exercise or technique. And, from that Kate has told me, it helped her feel more relaxed and at one with her body when she delivered both George and Charlotte. I’ve heard great things about it.”, said Elle and Harry nodded his head.
“ Well, if you are sure love, then all I can do is support you. And that you have. Always.”, said Harry, kissing her temple, making Elle smiled at the gesture.
“ I’ll be entering my third trimester in two weeks, so I think it’s a good time to start preparing. And, Helen said to me that hypnobirth also helps prepare the mind for the pain and the stress that comes with labour. Trust me, I have full confidence this will work. It’ll be a mind over matter kind of thing.”, said Elle.
On the following week, Helen, a middle-aged, brown skinned and white haired woman came to apartment 1.
“ Nice to finally meet you, Your Royal Highness.”, said Helen to Elle.
“ The pleasure is mine. Kate has spoken highly of you.”, Elle said to the woman.
“ Well I thank her. I’ve worked with the Duchess of Cambridge in her last two pregnancies and I’m honoured now to be working with yours.”, said Helen. Harry, then stepped forward to greeted the woman with a handshake.
“ It’s very nice meeting you Helen. My wife and I are thrilled and excited about that you have to teach us.”, he said, receiving a smile from the older woman.
“ As I said, it’s an honour. So, shall we start?”, said Helen and the trio took their seats on the sofa.
“ Well, I want to know a little more about you and the pregnancy before we start with hypnobirth. So, I gather this is your first pregnancy?”, she asked them.
“ Well, actually, this is my second. Our second.”, said Elle and Helen was very polite to hide her surprise.
“ I had a pregnancy scare before our wedding but, obviously, the baby didn’t come to term.”, said Elle, while Harry hand’s were holding hers tightly.
“ I see. I’m so sorry for your loss, But I have to ask, I take that you had a miscarriage?”, asked Helen.
“ Yes. It was spontaneous. I had just found out I was pregnant.”, said Elle.
“ Alright. And after that, did you have any kind of hormonal trouble or sexual?”, she asked,
“ No. I had a treatment after the miscarriage to eliminate every possibility of further problems and since I got pregnant again I’ve had close and constant check-ups with my OB/GYN.”, said Elle and Helen nodded, taking a few notes.
“ Then everything is as it should be.”, said Helen smiling. “ Since you’ve had no trouble conceiving again, I believe your miscarriage was due to either stress or hormonal imbalance. It can happen and it’s not uncommon. But all is well now and we’ll deliver this baby to full-term, perfectly healthy.”,she continued, making the couple smile.
“ Well let me explain to you how hypnobirthing work. We’ll meet weekly for pre-natal classes on how to react and that to expect before, during and after birth, for both the mother and the father to be. Along with it, you’ll have a 16-hour program that you can listen to, telling you about the step by step of hypnobirthing, relaxation exercises, which we’ll practice, and a number of techniques that will ensure a stress-free, pain relief and natural birth.”, said Helen.
“ This seems heavenly.”, said Elle “ When can we begin?”, she said and both her husband and midwife chuckled.
“ Right away if you want to.”, replied Helen.
************
In the coming weeks, Elle and Harry had began to fully understand the nature and preparation for a birth due to Helen’s help and guidance. Hypnobirthing was proving to be more relaxing then Elle had first thought it to be and she felt a true improvement in her daily life because of the exercises and meditation she’d been practicing daily.
Once she reached her 28th week of pregnancy and finally entered her third and last trimestre, she began to think about the final details for the baby’s birth and the events she’d attend leading to April, when she’d take her leave from all of her public engagements. In the middle of the week she and Harry would have a joint engagement for the Henry van Straubenzee Memorial Fund. They’d attend a benefit in to raise funds for a new project in Uganda.
But before they could attend it, Elle had an appointment with Georgiana. Since she was beginning the last months of her pregnancy, she’d have a more thorough examination and weekly visits to the clinic.
“ So, how are you feeling? Any changes you want to tell me?”, asked Georgiana as Elle and Harry stepped into her office.
“ I’m just feeling more tired. But I know it’s normal.”, said Elle and the doctor nodded her head.
“ It is. Most women feel a little bloated as well. All normal reactions and consequences to the pregnancy.”, said Georgiana.
“ And how are the pre-natal classes going?”, she asked them.
“ Pretty well.”, replied Harry. “ Elle has started hypnobirthing exercises and I’m doing a few as well to help her relax and meditate.”, he continued.
“ Oh that’s good! It’s a quite popular technique nowadays and it’s very interesting to say the least. I think if you believe it, you can do it. And in the end, it’s a matter of mind over body.”, said Georgiana.
“ That’s exactly what’ve told Harry. I’m feeling calmer and more prepared for the birth since I started the exercises. Helen, my birthing coach and midwife is helping us. And it’s been illuminating.”, said Elle.
“ That’s good to hear, Elle. Well, keep doing whatever makes you feel good.”, said Georgiana smiling.
“ Now, let’s have a look at your vitals and this little one?”, she said and Elle popped into the bed for her check-up. She felt Georgiana hooking her to a few machines to take her blood pressure, temperature and blood-sugar, as well as her heartbeat.
“ Everything seems in order with you. Your blood pressure is a little low, but it’s well within the margins. I’m going to collect a little flask of blood to send to the lab to see if everything is normal, ok?”, said the doctor and Elle nodded in response. Then, she lied back into the bed and pulled her blouse up so that Georgiana could make an ultrasound.
“ Let’s see this little royal, now, shall we?”, she said, putting the cold gel in Elle’s belly. Soon enough, the machine began making weird sounds, which were the baby’s heart and both soon-to-be parents watched in wonder as their child appeared on the small screen.
“ Baby’s heartbeat is strong. We can see its hands and feet all completely formed. The baby is about the size of a large aubergine and weighs about 1 kilogram, which is 2 pounds. Everything seems perfectly alright with both mum and baby.”, said Georgiana. The couple smiled to each other as Elle was cleaned and was able to sit up on the bed.
“ At this stage, the baby will gain weight much quicker and will soon start turning in your womb to prepare for the birth. You’ll most likely feel more movement in your belly and I’m sorry to say, an incessant unrest in your legs. It’s common and part of the process , so don’t be alarmed.”, said Georgiana.
“ I’ll have your lab results tomorrow so I’ll just call you and tell you then. There’s no need for you to come in here. But other than waiting for the labs, all is well. I’ll see you next week, okay? And don’t forget to drink plenty of water and eat vegetables and red meat for the iron you need.”, advises Georgiana.
“ Thank you Georgiana.”, said Elle, hugging the woman. “ Until next week.”
************
Two days later, Harry and Elle, both dressed in elegant black-tie coded clothes, attended the fundraising gala for the Henry van Straubenzee Memorial Fund. Harry, as one of the patrons, would be giving a small speech on the work the foundation did in Uganda as well as talk about his own experience with both the charity and his own work in Africa, through Sentebale.
“ Are you sure you’re feeling alright to attend the gala? I know how during the night your body hits almost exhaustion levels.”, asked Harry, concerned.
“ I am. And I’ll be alright. So long as I remain seated during most of it, I’ll be golden.”, replied Elle. They were in the car with Ingrid and Leo, on their way to the National Gallery in London, where the fundraiser would take place.
As the got closer to the sumptuous building in Trafalgar Square, the royal couple noticed the amount of photographers and the red carpet that been lined up at the entrance of the building.
“ This looks almost like the Oscars. I feel like a superstar.”, joked Elle, making the people in the car laugh.
“ If you don’t mind me saying, ma’am, you and your husband are as good as superstars in this country. Abroad as well.”, said Ingrid.
“ True…”, agreed Harry. “ The paparazzi certainly treat us like so.”, he continued in a more serious tone. Elle sighed and held onto his hand, caressing his wedding band on it.
“ We’ll be alright, darling. You’ll see.”, she said, reassuring him. Harry nodded his head and smiled at her, just as their car stopped at the base of the stairs leading to the National Gallery. The sounds of flashes and their blinding lights paved the way for Harry and Elle, who were holding hands as they greeted the two members of the fund’s board of directors.
“ A pleasure to welcome you both, Your Royal Highnesses.”, said one man, shaking Harry’s then Elle’s hands.
“ It’s our pleasure to be here.”, replied Elle, with a courteous smile. They were guided by the man and woman to the main area of the building and were soon bombarded by friends and acquaintances alike. Many, who had yet to congratulate them officially on the imminent birth of their first child.
Overall, the night run out without a hit. The couple mingled among the guests, Harry’s speech was filled with laughter and also meaning, specially when he pointed out the number of lives they’d be helping by funding the organisation. Elle was very proud and turned on by his passion and dedication to his causes.
At the end of the night, when they returned to Kensington Palace, Harry and Elle welcomed the new year as a couple, thoroughly enjoying themselves: as companions, as lovers, as soulmates. Tangled in the bedsheets, in each others arms, they calmly slept, as they waited the new challenges life would bring them in the weeks to come.
#FATES INTERTWINED#royalfanficcentral#royalfanficcollection#phff#prince harry fanfic#prince harry fanfiction#Prince Harry
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A friendship caught fire (13/?)
Guys, I know it's been an eternity. And I can't promise, that I will post regularly from now on. But what I can promise: This story is not going to end badly. And this story is still worth writing. There might be angst on the way, but I know one thing: Sam and Cait are my OTP. They make me swoon, they make me happy, they put a smile to my face. This is fiction. It is not intended to hurt anyone and it is all invented. But it is my fantasy of how their story happened and it will continue to be.
Love advice
It's hard to leave Cait behind, but surprisingly Mexico turns out to be a lot of fun. No one in the scuba diving course has an idea who he is and so he's just normal, sportive Sam among other normal, sportive people. Most of the participants are couples, but there are a few singles as well and so they have a nice mixed group. They have a good laugh and hang out in the evenings, drinking cocktails in the hotel bar or sitting at the beach. After the course is finished, Sam uses his remaining days in Mexico to explore and go hiking. It's lovely weather, a lovely scenery and he enjoys it very much.
If only Cait would be there, it's the only thing missing. They face time every day at least once and he longs for her so much, it almost hurts. Their face timing gets hotter and hotter and one night Sam has his first foray into phone sex ever. After that incident he is sure: Listening to Cait whispering things into his ear over the phone will forever be one of the most erotic experiences of his life and he'll never forget it.
The only thing clouding their happiness for a moment is the girl, he went to the Valentine's party with, implying on social media, that she's with him in Mexico. The fans flip out and Cait is mad at him for going with her anywhere in the first place. It makes for one depressing evening and way too much (very expensive) Whiskey on his hotel bill. Make up phone sex is almost hotter than the other day's version, so in the end everything works out fine. He calls his PR agent and tells them to shut the girl up immediately and for the first time he is not the friendly and always nice chap they know. It works, there is no innuendo coming from her afterwards and he decides, that he has to be more forceful about his interests in the future. It's all still new and still a learning curve for him.
The two weeks are over faster than he would have thought beforehand, but still he is happy, when he is in his plane back to her. Unfortunately their reunion has to be delayed yet again, because Cait's schedule for her movie suddenly changes and she has to leave Los Angeles for New York just before he arrives. They decide, that they will meet in Scotland on Boxing day. He will spend Christmas with his family and then Cait will fly in and they will spend the rest of their break together. He flies to LA, gets his stuff and flies out to Scotland the same evening. Like always he is glad to leave the city of Angels behind.
When he's finally sitting in the taxi in Glasgow, he leans back with a sigh, his tiredness from the long journey catching up a bit on him, but he's also able to relax for the first time in what he feels is an eternity.
„Long journey?“ the driver asks and Sam smiles.
„Yeah. From Mexico to LA and now home.“
„Mexico! I bet you had better weather there than we here.“
Sam smiles. „Yeah, but home is home, isn't it?“
„That's right indeed,“ the driver says. „So spending Christmas with the family, huh? You're not from Glasgow, though, are you?“
„Edinburgh,“ Sam answers. „Just live here. Will spend Christmas at my Mom's house and then on Boxing day my girlfriend comes home.“
He doesn't know why he tells the man so much. He never does, but for some reason his guard is down. He's just so bloody happy to be back home and so bloody happy, that he's going to see Cait in a few days! He misses her so much, he just wishes she was already there.
The friendly taxi driver chuckles at his admission. „Ah, someone is missing his girl, isn't he?“ he says. „She's special then, is she?“
Sam laughs ruefully. „She is. I guess I am that obvious.“
They laugh together and chat on about other things for the rest of the trip. But when Sam gets out of the taxi, after paying and giving a generous tip, the driver leans out of his window. „Make it official, lad,“ he says. „If she's special, don't wait!“
Sam looks after the disappearing taxi, a puzzled look on his face. Did he just get love advice from a taxi driver? He sure did.
The incident doesn't leave his mind over the next days. „Make it official,“ the man said. Wow, that really would be a step! But the interesting thing is, that Sam doesn't feel frightened by the thought. Nor does he feel like shrugging it off. It stays with him and the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes, that he is sure and ready. Trouble is: He can't imagine Cait being in the same place yet. She is the more cautious of them and she had more trouble to accept their love as it is.
Love.
He has not told her yet. Only in his thoughts and once when she was asleep. Maybe Cait is not ready for a life long commitment, but he can at least tell her, that he loves her and he will.
Christmas with the family is sweet as always. For the first time they celebrate in his apartment and they all tease him endlessly over his new lifestyle and how „rich“ he has become. He's a bit embarrassed about it, but he knows they're just teasing and that they're absolutely thrilled with his new success.
He's glad, that noone asks him about Caitriona. He wouldn't know how to answer. He really wants to tell them, especially his Mom, but he wants to check with Cait first. They haven't really talked about how secret they'll have to keep their relationship from now on.
And then Boxing day is here. In the morning he and his family do their annual Boxing day walk, but Sam is already far away with his thoughts. Just a few hours. She will arrive in the afternoon and he can't wait to get home to Glasgow. If his family notices, they don't say anything, but they're not surprised when he leaves them right after their walk, without eating left-overs first, so he's sure he'll have a talk with his Mom soon. She still knows him better than anyone.
His phone buzzes while he's still on the road. Cait must have landed. He takes the next exit to see her text: “Safely landed, see you in a couple of hours. Yours or mine?” “Yours,” he texts back, because he knows Cait will want to be with Eddie on her first evening back.
At six he is standing in front of her door, his heart pounding in his chest, because he knows he is going to tell her, that he loves her and then she's there and she's in his arms, smelling wonderfully, feeling all soft and delicious. All is good again.
“God, I missed you, “ he groans into her hair, not wanting to let go even though they're still standing in her door. She clings to him just as forcefully, her face buried into his chest. “Me, too,” she says. “Oh, you feel so good.” He smiles and then they kiss. And kiss a bit more. Sam has no real idea what is happening next, because he is sure he is drunk, or high or dizzy. The next thing he knows is, that he is lying next to her, sweaty and out of breath and incredibly happy. And Cait is cradled in his arm, her face on his chest and she sighs: “I love you, Sam.” For a moment he doesn't trust his ears and then his voice, but then he takes a deep breath. “I love you, too, Cait.” And his heart soars.
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Starting Over Chapter 16 ~The Leap~
Jamie looked at his watch. Where the hell are they? Claire and Joe should be here by now. Restless, he started to pace in front of Lallybroch manor house, withdrawn from the flurry of barbecue preparation activities going on at the back garden.
More than thirty-six hours ago, Claire had almost disfigured her former fiance's face. In the wake of her throwing a vase at Frank, she'd walked out of the hospital without a backward glance, followed by Jamie, Geillis and the reporters. Except for Joe, who'd stayed behind to get medical aid for Frank. Jamie had immediately called Ned to inform him what had ensued, and so far, much to his relief, there hadn't been a complaint filed.
He'd had intended to spend that whole weekend with Claire, but after the incident with Frank and her being discharged from the hospital, she'd opted to go home with Geillis instead, making him wish he'd been the one to throw the vase at Frank for ruining his plans. At least, after a lot of wheedling and cajoling, he was able to extract a promise from her to attend Sunday lunch in his family home before they went their separate ways. Geillis and uncle Lamb had graciously declined the invitation due to some previously arranged engagement, but Joe, not one to miss a good barbecue party, had assured him he would come by with Claire.
After he'd gone back to his apartment on that fateful night, he'd slept fitfully, thinking about her. He'd texted and sent voice messages throughout the next day but were never returned, propelling him to this foreign feeling of panic and alarm over a lass. Miserably he thought, this must be how it felt like for the girls who'd waited a long time for his calls. And now, as a consequence, he was being served a bitter taste of his own medicine by the universe. If Claire had changed her mind about them being together, he knew he was going to lose it.
Jamie's muscles tightened as the sound of a vehicle approaching brought him back to the present. But when the car stopped and opened its doors, it was Laoghaire and an older couple who stepped out, instead of Joe and Claire. Laoghaire's company looked vaguely familiar. He'd probably met them before during one of those gatherings that his family had attended or one here from Lallybroch. He'd been away for ages at a time, he could barely keep up with everyone's identity.
"Jamie! So good to see ye," Laoghaire enthused, as she walked up to him, giving him a playful pout. "Ye never called! Ye promised ye would."
I have nae reason to, he wanted to say. Ignoring the void in his stomach, he managed half a smile. "I've been busy," he said instead, half his attention riveted to the road, ears straining for the sound of Joe's car.
Laoghaire half-turned and waved a hand. "Jamie, ye remember my parents, don't ye?"
Unable to recall their first names, he nodded politely to the couple. "Mr and Mrs MacKenzie, I hope ye're well."
The older woman flirtatiously fluttered her darkened eyelashes. "Ach, Jamie, such a fine lad ye turned out to be." Her red-painted lips broke into a slow smile as she placed a bony hand on his arm and leaned in. "I remember a time when ye and Laoghaire were just wee bairns, and ye used to play together during our families' gatherings. Did ye ken, now that she's all grown-up, the lads here at Broch Mordha are beating the path to Laoghaire's door to ask her out?"
"She's spoiled for choices then," he half-heartedly teased, turning on his old-Jamie-charm a notch and wishing Joe and Claire would arrive already. The last time he'd spoken to Laoghaire, he'd been in a foul mood and was utterly rude to her, and it wasn't his usual way. His mother would have been appalled if she'd witnessed his behaviour, but today, he was determined to be on his best conduct.
Mrs MacKenzie's eyes twinkled. "Ye should come and visit us at the farm, one weekend before summer is over. And bring Laoghaire with ye."
He let out a nervous cough. "I'm quite sure Laoghaire has someone else in mind and is already spoken for," he winked good-naturedly at Laoghaire. "As have I."
Mr MacKenzie arched an eyebrow, glancing first at his daughter's flushed face before looking back at Jamie. "Is that so? Anyone, we know? Ye've piqued my interest, lad as I've never known ye to admit to having a lass."
"I'm sure ye'll meet her soon enough," he replied, praying the car he heard from a distance was Joe's.
"Oh, is she coming today?" Laoghaire asked, obviously knowing already the answer to her question and looking disheartened.
"She should be here any moment now," he replied, praying he was right.
"Ach, Jamie, there have been rumours, circulating around. About ye and an English lass," Mrs MacKenzie began. "But I dinnae listen to idle gossips and read tabloids, ye ken. Yer ma revealed ye helped a friend's friend flee her own wedding. But I dinnae understand for the life of me, how that lass could leave poor Dr Randall at the altar. He's such a good man, supporting important causes in and around Edinburgh. Surely that's not the lass ye're with."
Jamie's stomach plunged. Maybe it wasn't a good idea inviting Claire here after all. But how could he have known his family's supposed Sunday lunch was going to turn into barbecue affair? Possessiveness and the urge to defend her in her absence swelled inside of him. "Mrs MacKenzie, some of those rumours are inaccurate."
The older woman let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Ah, I thought so ..."
"What they say about Dr Randall is a total misconception. He might be a brilliant doctor, but he fooled a lot of people into believing he is an upstanding member of the community when, in actual fact, he is a certified prick." Jamie ignored the gasps of incredulity as his awareness latched on to the sound of car parking. He glanced towards the driveway and saw Joe and Claire through the windscreen of their car, and was hit with unexpected joy. Slowly backing away from the MacKenzies, he smiled. "And as for the English lass, that part of the rumour is the truth. I'm with her." He paused before continuing. "Anyway, enjoy the barbecue, and I shall see ye soon." Before they could pelt him with more questions and assumptions, he turned around and strolled towards Joe and Claire.
Joe carried a bag of, what Jamie surmised were bottles of wine from the sounds of clinking, and Claire, pretty as a picture, clutched a bouquet of flowers, looking a lot better than the last time he saw her.
"We're here!" Joe beamed.
"Ye're late!" Jamie pretended to be annoyed, but he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face as his eyes soaked in Claire. She was every inch the sweet girl-next-door in her loose yellow sundress until he came up close. Ah, sweet, Jesus! The low scallop neckline revealed the soft swell of her creamy breast enhanced by the upward push of her bra, sending blood rushing into his cock until it stiffened in his jeans. He remembered well how they felt in his hands and longed to touch her again. "And ye, Sassenach, ye didn't answer my texts nor returned my calls," he whispered against her mouth, his arm going around her waist and pulling her in. He didn't care who saw as couldn't help himself whenever she was around. The moment he saw her, all the irritation, frustration, and control evaporated and in an instant, forgotten.
Placing her hands on his chest, Claire drew away slightly. "I told you I was coming today," she breathed, staring at his lips. "I was only following the doctor's orders and having plenty of rest."
The way she was staring at his mouth told him she missed him too. Unable to resist, he leaned in for another kiss, but Joe slapped him on the back, reminding him they weren't alone. "Enough of that, you two. I'm not interested in playing the third wheel here when I can smell good food on the grill."
Jamie grunted, taking the flowers from Claire's hands and handing it to Joe. "Do ye mind taking this, mate? I need a moment alone with Claire. I might not get another chance today once my family hijacks her." And then Jamie noticed the MacKenzies were still stood where he left them, staring in unified shock. "And take them with ye too, if ye dinna mind" he added, subtly nodding in their direction.
Joe glanced at the Mackenzies and then scowled at Jamie. "They're not my problem. You're the host."
He was impatient to be alone with Claire. "Will ye make it yer problem if I give ye a season's ticket to the rugby?"
There was a moment of silent stand-off, as Joe contemplated, making Claire stare at Jamie in disbelief. "How about making it two seasons' tickets. It's for my plus one," Joe finally said.
"Ye dinnae have a plus one," Jamie argued.
"It could be my bargaining chip to get a chick."
"Alright, two season tickets then." Jamie was getting desperate.
"Jamie! Joe!" Claire exclaimed, staring disapprovingly at them, but they both disregarded her.
"And if you throw in a private box with champagne, that would be a nice touch," Joe suggested.
Jamie frowned.
"Listen to me, buddy." Joe inched closer, his voice dropping low. "That older MacKenzie woman is way too touchy-feely for me, and her perfume makes me gag. Once I start talking to her, she'll never leave me alone for the rest of the afternoon. I need more incentive, man."
"Fine, but the private box and champagne will only be available and one-off if there's a lass to speak of."
"Deal!" Joe grinned. "Shall we spit and shake on it?"
"No! Now go!" he growled.
Joe walked away, laughing. "Have fun kids! Just make sure you're back before your ma starts asking questions."
"We won't be long," Jamie replied, already tugging Claire by the hand as he guided them between the hedges that led to a hidden alcove. Once he was sure they were out of sight from anyone who might be wandering the grounds, he impatiently pulled her to him.
Claire slapped his arm. "Jamie!"
"What?!" he muttered against her neck, inhaling the fresh, clean scent of her skin. His mouth found its way into her hair and a hand on her breast, every inch of him responding to having her body moulded to his hard planes. The unease that had been churning inside him all day yesterday and this morning settled, while a different kind of commotion took shape.
"You're terrible!"
"And ye're so bonnie ..." He nibbled the lobe of her ear, and when a soft moan escaped her lips, a stream of chemicals was let loose into his bloodstream.
"What you did there with Joe was bribery!"
"It's yer fault!
"How was that my fault?"
Jamie drew away and glanced down at her. "Ye didn't come home with me, and I missed ye." And he meant it, even though nothing was making sense anymore. Who would have thought, him, James Fraser would lose sleep over a lass? "I didnae want to argue with Geillis when she said she'd take ye home with her. She was too scary." His weak attempt to make a joke sounded lame to his ears, but Claire smiled.
"With my state that night, I wasn't allowed to get too excited, that's why I didn't come home with you," she teased, her lips parting on a nervous breath as she slid her hands around his neck, bringing their bodies closer.
A low thudding began, proliferating throughout his insides, starting in his heart and then going downwards. "Is that so? Do I excite ye then?"
"Hmmm ..."
He laughed when she didn't give him an answer. He was tempted to kiss her more, but then other pressing matters suddenly flittered into his thoughts. Gripping her shoulders, he forced her to look at him. "Listen to me, Sassenach. We need to talk about Frank. This is crucial. I didnae realised that Friday evening, he was coming to bring ye yer things. Why did ye not tell me?"
Chewing her bottom lip, she shifted in his hold. "I never thought in a million years that Frank would lay a hand on me," she reasoned. "Like you and everyone else, I was in shock with what happened. He's never done anything like that before that's why I never brought it up." And then she let out a humourless laugh. "I don't regret throwing that vase at him though, and I suppose, anytime soon the police will come and arrest me."
"No," he said firmly, pulling her once more in his embrace and placing her head against his chest. "No one is going to arrest you, and if it makes ye feel any better, Frank sustained only a cut on the bridge of his nose. What he did to ye was far worse, and I could have done something more damaging to him for it. If he is truly a smart man and wants to keep his reputation intact and his job at the Royal Infirmary, he wouldn't dare press any charges. We have enough incriminating proof to bring him down, thanks to those reporters. Ned, as we speak, is compiling pieces of evidence and data against him. Ye need not worry. I'll make sure he doesnae come anywhere near ye again." He stroked her hair and let his hand wander down to the small of her back. "And next time, don't keep anything like this from me ."
"Alright," she whispered, her fingers caressing the nape of his neck. "Shall we go now? Your family must be wondering where you are."
"Not yet. I want to kiss ye first. I dinnae think I will have yer undivided attention for the rest of the afternoon as soon as we walk out there."
She looked up at him and smiled, but he sensed her disconcertion.
"Are you sure your parents are alright, having me for lunch?" she asked. "I saw plenty of cars out there, and I'm quite certain some of your guests will recognise me from the news. It might not look good for you."
"I dinnae care about the guests, Sassenach but I know my parents will adore ye." Of that, he was positive. He tipped her chin and brushed his lips against hers. Christ! So, so sweet. She was everything he never had before and everything he wanted. Attempting and failing to maintain an awareness of their surroundings, Jamie angled his hips and listened to her breath falter.
"But this is huge, Jamie."
Aye, tell me about it. Jamie shifted his stance as the strain in his jeans became more uncomfortable.
"I mean, I'm meeting your parents." Claire leaned back just enough to study his face. "And you've never brought a girl home. Why now?"
Instead of answering her question, he lifted her up by her thighs, her legs automatically cinching his waist on the way up. Her soft flesh fused against his hardness, and he took her mouth in a frenzied kiss, pressing her back against the hedges. When she responded in kind, Jamie's mind could barely function only aware that his senses turned on a clean slate that knew nothing of touch and taste. Her lips moved with sensual intention, synchronising his own, making him feel like the first and last man to ever be kissed by her.
He broke their kiss and gazed at her half-closed eyes and swollen lips. "Sassenach, look at me." His voice came out rasped, and his speech sounding strained. "I said, look at me."
"I'm here, Jamie, I'm looking," she whispered, looking intoxicated. So far gone she was, he wondered if she was aware that his erection was pressing hard into the silk of her panties.
"I can't do it!" he muttered.
He felt her stiffen as she sobered up, and her eyes widened. "You can't do wot, Jamie?"
"I can't do it. I can't stop myself from thinking about ye. Worrying about ye. When I saw Frank touching ye ...I couldn't...oh, Christ..." He groaned against her mouth, his hands gripping her bottom and dragging her higher against him. "I was out of mind yesterday when ye didn't answer my calls. I need ye in my life. "
"Y-you do?"
Jamie pushed up hard between her thighs, making her hands grip tight on his taut shoulders. "I want ye to live with me."
A delicate line formed between her brows. "But Jamie ..."
"I'm still not promising happily ever after and I'm not even convinced if this will work." He let out a shaky exhale. "I want ye to understand I can't promise anything that I'm not sure I will follow through. The only thing that makes sense right now is how much I need to wake up beside ye every morning even if I have nae clue how to be a boyfriend."
"You want to be my boyfriend?"
Moment of truth. He swallowed hard, his hands gripping her hips tight. "I want ye to come to London with me."
"You got the job?" she croaked.
"No. Not yet. But it's looking that way." Jamie braced himself and thought this was the only way he would able to do his job if he knew she was nearby instead of her being hundreds of miles away from him. "I'm meeting some important people from the network in Glasgow during the British Sports Award presentation, and I want ye to come with me."
"British Sports Award ?!? But, Jamie! That'll be televised! The whole nation will know!"
The worry in Claire's tone caused a pang in Jamie's chest. "I know." His tongue wandered along the curve of her lower lip, urging himself to push further. "I'm asking you in the nicest possible way to be my girlfriend," he said. "And to come and live with me and be my date in Glasgow."
Claire's heart thumped furiously in her chest, sending vibrations into his body. "With your history in relationships, we might not even last a week."
His response came out choked. "There's that possibility ... that's why I'm not making any promises. I might not be even good in this exclusive thing."
"But you haven't answered my question yet."
"Ask me again."
"I'm meeting your parents in a matter of minutes. And you've never brought a girl home and never been in a relationship. I need to know why now?"
Good question. Why? In the past, he'd never allowed anyone to catch a glimpse of his life unless it was pertaining to his rugby career, but of late, he wanted Claire to realise he was more than what the tabloids wrote about him. He sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. What could he say? This was unknown territory, and Claire was right. They might not even last a week together. So he stuck to the only truth he understood. "I've never seen my parents so excited to meet someone I know. Not even that time, I brought the legendary Jonny Wilkinson home for dinner."
The worry on her face ebbed a bit as she let out a winded laugh. "Jonny Wilkinson, huh? Well, I suppose the papers must have exaggerated things about me if they didn't find good 'ol Jonny impressive enough. I hope I will not disappoint."
Never. Jamie's brothers adored Claire already, and he knew his parents and Jenny would too. The last time he talked to them, they'd been vocal about how intrigued they were by Claire after hearing accounts about her from his brothers. They were excited to meet her, not because of her story as a runaway bride. Nor because of what Willie and Rabbie had told them. But because he never introduced women to a member of his family as a rule.
And inviting her to Lallybroch for lunch meant precisely what his family thought it did. Now if only he could overcome his fears and feel worthy enough to have something so pure and good such as Claire in his life.
"Jamie?"
"Aye?" he managed, the rapping in his chest echoing louder, knowing the answer he'd given to her question would not be enough to convince her to come to London with him.
"I'm not saying yes to London ..." His stomach hallowed as he bravely looked straight into her amber eyes. "...for now. But this doesn't mean no, either."
A wee bit of hope lit, and then he held his breath. "How about ye being my girlfriend part?"
A broad smile that reached her eyes emerged from her beautiful face. "I'm saying yes ...for now."
He wanted to celebrate already, but he wasn't out of the woods yet. One more hurdle. "And Glasgow? Will ye come as my date to the British Sports Award presentation?" Not wanting to scare her off, nor expose her to more surprises, he went straight out with the next bit. "I'll be one of the honoured guests, and I have been invited to speak and present an award. So we'll be sat in the front row, and there'll be cameras everywhere," he revealed nervously.
Claire's face was inscrutable, and she was stock-still for what seemed like an eternity. If she didn't want to come as his date and the cameras would be too much for her, he would understand. He knew very well what it was like to be under public scrutiny and the ugliness that came with it.
"I'll go," she whispered finally, causing a massive exhale to puff out of his chest. Claire's smile was so self-assured and supportive, he must have imagined the slight tremor in her fingertips, as she touched his face. "I'll come as your date."
Jamie didn't say anything as he eased his hips back, allowing Claire's legs to drop to the ground. To his astonishment, he nearly fell onto his knees when he let her go for a short while, his lower body feeling like it had the consistency of vapour and been through a full eighty minutes of a rugby match. If this is what it felt to be with someone, how the hell was he going to survive this relationship until it was time to go to Glasgow?
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Now that I’ve cleared my head a little, I’d like to give everyone a little update about my life, or rather, I’d like to update everyone who still reads my brain vomit.
I am 25 now. As I mentioned, I am in a serious relationship with a man I have known for years. We were best friends before we were dating and it was a pretty easy transition. We will have been together for two years in September. Even though it’s generic to say this, I’m going to say it anyway: I can’t imagine my life without him. I was still living in Edinburgh with my sister and being a nanny to my nephews when he and I reconnected after not really talking much for a year or two. we started texting each other every day, then we started hanging out every once in awhile, then we started hanging out a few times a week. Everyone said we were dating, but we insisted we were just friends, because we were at that time. He was the only friend I still had in Indiana. Eventually, we started dating and pretty much from day one of our relationship, I started staying over. I would leave Edinburgh when my brother in law got home to drive to greenwood (about 30 mins) so I could have dinner with him when he got home from work and I would stay the night and then get up really early in the morning to drive back to Edinburgh to be there when my sister left for work. I did this for 3 months. I had also been working weekends and some week nights at Walgreens for awhile at this point because I needed the money. Eventually, I was given the opportunity to get full time hours so I made the tough decision to move back to Indy.
I say Indy, but really, the majority of my stuff was at my parents house in Indy, but I kept a lot of clothes and other things with Mike in Greenwood and that’s where I really lived. Mike’s lease was up in July so we were trying to figure out what we were going to do about that. Mike pretty much adopted my dog, Mozzy, and Mozzy was not allowed in his apartment as the complex was pet free. We had some stow away nights with him there, but it was too hard to be sneaky. My grandma used to live in the apartment that she had built onto our house, but she had passed away (then) two years previous. I talked to my mom and she agreed that if we fixed it up and cleaned it out (most of her possessions were still up there), that we could move in. Seemed simple enough except that my grandma was a heavy smoker for most of her life and everything was covered in nicotine. It was a very long process in each room to go through her things (which was very hard to do in and of itself because it still felt so fresh that she had died), then clean the walls with industrial cleaner/degreaser, then put 1-3 coats of stain blocker/odor blocker on each wall, then paint each wall. Not only did the walls need the stain/odor blocker, but the ceiling did as well. She had carpet in every room except the kitchen and the bathroom, so all of that had to be ripped up. The cabinets in the kitchen were particle board and a professional told us that those would have to go. We had to degrease EVERYTHING. There wasn’t a surface that didn’t have nicotine on it. Windows, oven, doors, light fixtures, baseboards, door frames, window frames, everything had to be cleaned. We got floor laid in both bedrooms, the hall, and the living room right before we moved out of the Greenwood apartment. The bathroom wasn’t usable, the kitchen barely was (we kept the bottom cabinets that held the sink because the cleaning would be 15 times harder if we had to go downstairs for the water every time), and our life was pretty much all in boxes except for the clothes and our bed and other furniture.
While all of this was happening, before we moved in, my other grandma was struggling, though previous to this we weren’t aware of how bad it was. My grandma had two mini strokes back in 2013. She has since become an expert at pretending she is more “there” than she actually is. It started off with small things. At the holiday get togethers, she would ask you to check her car a few times for something she thought she forgot. At christmas, she would check, double check, and triple check (sometimes more), that she had given everyone their gifts. She’s got a bleeding heart for people and this one family in particular kept trying to move in with her to take advantage. She kicked them out once, forgot about it, and then let them move back in. When my dad had to basically have them removed from her home, we finally realized that something wasn’t right. She drove herself to the hospital downtown once and then called us in a panic because she said she thought we were picking her up, but she really just didn’t remember driving downtown, so we had to go drive around until we found her car. Soon, the doctor revoked her driving rights, so my dad would make weekly grocery trips. Sometimes, she would hardly eat, sometimes she would eat a weeks worth of food in 3 days. Her, by herself, would suck down at least 3 gallons of milk a week. Eventually, I started helping him grocery shop and take care of her. Each time we went to her house, we started to notice a smell. She had two dogs and she let them potty in the house on puppy pads so at first, we just thought that was it. Then, both of her dogs passed away and the smell persisted and eventually got worse. Then we started noticing mouse poo in some places. So we moved her into my parents house to stay while we cleaned her house. THEN we realized how bad things actually were. She was maintaining on surface levels for so long and then she stopped doing that. Her house and nearly everything she owned was destroyed and we realized she couldn’t live alone anymore. So she has been living with us for over a year now.
She moved it before Mike and I did so we were rehabbing our apartment while also cleaning out my grandma’s house. A couple months before she moved in, I stepped up into a managers position at work. After she moved in, paired with two houses that needed work, PLUS full time school, I decided that I had too much on my plate. For the first time in years, my school was paid for by financial aid so since I didn’t need to pay out of pocket for the last 2 full semesters, I decided to quit my job this past November. I entered into a period of laziness where I didn’t work on our apartment, in fact I didn’t really work on anything except for my grandma’s house from time to time and school. That’s when some weight came back because I stopped being active.
When grandma first moved in, she insisted on doing the dishes, which everyone here loved because they were on a rotation with doing the dishes weekly between each other and no one liked it. Everything was fine at first, then she started to forget where things went. Then she started to accidentally reorganize the kitchen to the point where we couldn’t find anything. Then she started to forget to use soap. She stopped using a wash rag, so essentially she was taking cold water and her hand and just rinsing the plates off. Everything would still have food or drink on it. She also started feeding herself almost hourly because she wouldn’t remember eating and seemed incapable of noticing if she was hungry or not. She started to feed the dogs a few times a day because she didn’t know they already got fed in the morning by my dad and she couldn’t remember feeding them herself. We went through a lot of dog food really quickly and all the dogs got fat. We soon realized that she couldn’t be left alone. Being that I was the only one who could be home all day, I decided to spend the entire day with her all week instead of just periodically checking on her. It is really, REALLY hard. I have a lot of patience as a person, but she has tested that (to no fault of her own). I have the same 5 conversations with her 100 times a day. She’s still my grandma, but she’s also not the grandma I’ve known and it’s hard and it’s exhausting. She doesn’t have a concept of time. She still thinks it’s 2013. Sometimes, she doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t remember how bad her house was (the biggest mouse infestation I had ever seen) and blames us for how bad it got because she said they all moved in when we took her out of her house. She always asks what is going on with her house (that we have since finished cleaning out, cleaning up, and selling). It’s a moral dilemma to decide if it’s better to tell her the truth or to lie to her so she doesn’t get stuck in a loop of asking every 3 minutes. We told her the truth about her mini strokes and her dementia, and eventually that started to stick and she vaguely remembers, so we opt to tell the truth in the hopes that she will eventually remember. I graduate officially in a couple weeks and I’m getting ready to start applying to jobs. She can’t live with us when no one is here during the day to stay with her (this is mostly because she wants to use the stove and has turned it on and forgot about it at her own home enough times that it is a concern). My dad has been looking into getting her assistance so that she can get into an assisted living facility that can give her what she needs. We found a really nice place and she is on the waiting list, but we found another place that she can stay at while she waits to get in and we are waiting to hear back from that. It is a guilty feeling, for sure, to know that I can’t handle being her caretaker all day every day. I am just not equipped. She needs to be somewhere where she can be more active and have more independence (supervised, of course). This has been one of the hardest things I have ever gone through. She’s getting worse and we aren’t able to give her what she needs, but we also don’t want to see her go to a home, but it’s like our hands are tied. Some people have told me that it’s not right to put her in assisted living and that someone just needs to sit with her every day, but it’s just not possible. We all have bills. I am going to have huge student loan payments in six months that I will not be able to pay without a job. No one else is in a position to quit their job to be here with her every day. We cannot afford in house care. This is the option we are left with, so the only thing we can do is make sure that she is in a good place. The place we found is super clean, the people there look happy (both care takers and care givers), the food looks good, and there is a church (which is super important to her). They have activities and programs and much more to do. We have to get her into a program that will help pay for it because even the crappier homes are super expensive, let alone the nice ones. It’s not about putting her somewhere and forgetting about her, it’s about making sure that she gets the best care we can give her through what ever means it can be provided. I think it is easy to look at this from the outside and think that we look selfish, but until you know someone personally who has dealt with this or gone through it yourself, you don’t really get what it’s like.
So there you have it. A condensed update of everything that has been going on in the last couple years.
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Storytime With DeeDee #1
So I wasnt really sure what to write about but I decided to tell you guys about one of the biggest problems in my life since this is supposed to be about you guys getting to know me better.
So like two years ago I went on a school trip to Valencia and I was thinking about it since like the year before we went. During that time I was also doing Duke of Edinburgh Bronze Award and the Valencia trip was between the practice expedition and the actual expedition. If you dont know what the Duke of Edinburgh Award is then its basically a thing in Britain where youre in a group of kids your age and of the same gender and you go camping. Having never gone camping before I was well excited. So the practice expedition is when you have teachers looking after you but not helping you while in the actual expedition the teachers are like some distance behind you.
Anyways I went on the practice expedition prepared. My parents grew up in quite rural areas (AKA the countryside) so they knew what they were doing. The hike and setting up was fun. We had dinner and then we had a campfire where we made smores which are really good. So it was finally time to go to bed and thats when the problems started.
I was all for going to sleep at a reasonable time as to have enough energy the next morning because we were doing another hike. So I shared the tent with two of my friends, one of who bailed on us to go to sleep in a different tent. I have trouble falling asleep in a new place. It takes me a couple of nights to go to sleep in a different place even if its in a different room in my house or like when I go over to sleep at my dads where Ive slept for like 3 years. My remaining friend was all for going to run around and explore during the night with the others. So we went to a bigger tent and ate a lot of sweets with our friends until I started feeling really tired so I went back to my tent. Also this tent had no locks and was outside with the badgers and foxes which we were warned about so that made me anxious as I always have to check the doors are locked at home before I go to sleep. This was around 11pm so I tossed and turned in the incredibly uncomfortable sleeping bag until I started feeling slightly sick. Being reasonable I thought that I was either hungry or really needed the toilet because my stomach was hurting. So I had some bread and went to the toilet where I threw up said bread. I just thought that I ate something funny because I wasnt sure about the pot noodle I ate for dinner but I was hungry. So I made a couple trips from the tent to the toilet where I had my first encounter with a badger which turned into a staring contest before it ran away (honestly I have like a sixth sense or something because I turned off my torch as to not wake anyone and sensed that something was there) before I decided to do the reasonable thing and call my mum. This was at 4am so keep in mind that I sat sobbing in my tent for 4ish hours before I decided to call my mum because food poisoning usually goes away after 2 hours for me so I was worried. My mum advised me to drink water and wait till someone showed up. I only got about half an hour of sleep that night because I just collapsed on my backpack from sheer exhaustion because after the hike and throwing up I was drained. My mum checked up on me every so often and once I woke up at 6am I saw that the camping experts or something had shown up so I went over to them and they sat me down on a chair, got my friend to collect my stuff, gave me water and went to fetch a teacher as I am socially awkward and cant wake people up without getting anxious. So the teacher came and called my mum. My mum got my dad to pick me up and I was home by 10am. I had a shower since there were no showers at the campsite, had some tea and slept till 3pm. My mum saw that I looked better and decided that it was food poisoning or that we cooked something wrong.
Then came Valencia, something that I was really excited about because England does not have the weather to go into the sea. I love going to warm countries and sitting on the beach or in the sea. And of course my period decided to start on the day of the trip which really annoyed me as I have long periods and the trip was only four days. So I went to school and we got on the plane and we were off. We arrived quite late and had some burgers for dinner before going to our rooms. We stayed at a university and the rooms were absolutely shit but I shared a room with two of my friends. So we unpacked, showered and went to sleep. Or they did. I was having that issue again and couldnt fall asleep. Then the throwing up began. I was fine during the days except that my period was heavier than usual and during Spanish lessons when I would sit in the toilet for most of the lesson. As long as I was enjoying myself and kept myself busy (like the time we went to a museum and I spent the time looking at cute chicks (like baby chickens) and dinosaur fossils) I felt normal. Then when night came I started feeling sick. It got to the point where I refused to eat because I found it pointless if I was going to throw up again. One of the teachers had a room next to mine and kept 'blackmailing' me. Like she kept saying that she would take me to the doctor and have my parents pay for it (I have free health care in the EU) or that she would send me back home if I would shut up and make my parents pay for the ticket back (when I told her that there were no flights she said that she would just send me to Poland (which is where I was born) since she knew I had family there) and what was worse was that she denied ever saying any of that once my mum complained to the school and nearly got me kicked out of school. So when we got back I was traumatised. I lost so much weight that I wouldnt fit into my old clothes anymore. My pants, unless they were like leggings, would fall right off (I gained the weight back dont worry). I refused to eat and I would keep throwing up and the only thing that would calm me down was this calming herbal tea. I would spend half an hour sat in the toilet crying until my mum decided that I needed to go to the doctor to at least try to fix my physical problems while giving me time off school to deal with the trauma caused by that trip. So I got medicine and was diagnosed with a nervous stomach which while it cant really be classified as an official medical condition I will still call it that.
"Having a nervous stomach could have to do with your emotional state or mental health, your digestive or gut health, or even a mixture of both. Rarely, it may signal something more serious going on. Nervous stomach can also just be how your digestive system works naturally during times of stress. As well, it could be just an isolated experience."
This is something I got from a health website on google. I believe my case of a nervous stomach which I now say is that my stomach has anxiety as a joke to deal with the trauma came from my emotional state or mental health.
So I got back to school while I was on medication and I started acting more like myself. So I went to see the teacher who organised the DofE (Duke of Edinburgh) and told him that I couldnt go on the expedition because I was on medication and had a 'medical condition'. He was fine with it but my Head of Year (teacher who was in charge of my year group) wasnt. She was helping that teacher organise the whole thing and took me out of lesson twice, once before the expedition because I hadnt been attending the meetings and the second time was on the day of the expedition. The first time she was calling me a liar and said that I was faking it for attention and that I wasnt on medication neither did I have a medical condition (when this is clearly something that could have been caused by my mental health) and that I needed to start getting involved because they paid for everything (literally my parents paid for all my equipment) and that she would ban me from ALL other trips no matter if they were trips to a park or residentials (over night trips) which was fucked up because I have a 'medical condition' that may have been caused by my mental health being not okay (cant find a better word) and mental health is something they are trying to improve in my school. The second time she was accusing me of not telling the teacher that I wasnt going on the expedition and when I tried to explain she would cut me off and start acting like a cheeky bratty teenager constantly saying "No" whenever I tried to say something. She forced me to go see the teacher because he was waiting for me downstairs but I was then told that they had left AN HOUR AGO. Like WTF?
Now my 'medical condition' hasnt popped up anymore apart from when I went to an award ceremomy coz I got nominated tor Young Person of the Year (which I got) but it wasnt as severe. So it hasnt gone away so we havent risked letting me go to sleepovers ot overnight trips. Anyways I have a nervous stomach and its currently wanting chocolate which means that we agree on something for once so this is DeeDee signing off!
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What inspired you to get into comedy?
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What inspired you to get into comedy?
The Big Ask
Watching Monty Python for the first time at a party at the neighbour’s farm. A lot of info to get in. Being funny for love as a child. Tony Law, A Lost Show, Monkey Barrel, 15:00
I started out as a singer-songwriter. Some of my songs were funny, so I tried them out at a comedy club. I loved talking and getting laughs In Between the songs so much, I decided to see if I could do it without the guitar. So, one of the biggest inspirations for my getting into comedy was not wanting to carry an instrument around all the time. Myq Kaplan, All Killing Aside, Underbelly, Bristo Square, 21:15
I did it for a bet, no idea if I’ve won yet. Nick Page, Yes, That Nick Page, Apparently, Mash House, 16:50
Ricky Gervais’s vast fortune. Stanley Brooks, AAA Stand-up at Underbelly, Underbelly Cowgate, 18:20
I worked behind the bar at the Glee Club in Cardiff for a while, and thought I’d give it a go. Seeing Tom Wrigglesworth’s Open Return Letter To Richard Branson show made me want to do more story-led shows, though. Robin Morgan, Robin Morgan: Honeymoon, The Pear Tree, 16:00
Peter Kay. Never has anyone concealed the art so well – perhaps too well, even to the detriment of his being recognised as a real genius of the form. While making it seem like he’s just a confident chatterbox, his range is as good as any comic I’ve ever seen. He can communicate ideas with laser-beam precise language and dramatisation. He does a Nan going home early at a wedding party as ‘Yoda from Star Wars’, and for me it’s like someone broadcasting to you on your exact frequency – and the picture is so clear and precise it’s as if he literally formed it in your mind for you. No one would ever say it, but he’s also fantastically self-ironising and postmodern: he delivers one-liners at the top, and then dissects their cheesiness, thoroughly aware of the expectations people have about traditional comedy. When an act can literally change the way we talk about everyday life – and I think it is possible to talk about garlic bread, or biscuit dipping in terms of pre and post-Kay – then they achieved something quite special. Moon, Moon, Pleasance Attic, 21:30
The Doug Anthony All Stars. I idolised them when I was a kid in Australia, they were pure visceral subversive comedy anarchy. I knew all their material by heart. They showed me that if you don’t sweat you haven’t done a show. Last year I was lucky enough to meet my hero Tim Ferguson from DAAS, he is a bloody legend and inspired me to keep going. Nathan Lang, The Stuntman, Just The Tonic @ The Caves, 14:45
YouTube – Spending too much time binge watching stand-up specials and interviews with comedians meant the advice of ‘just do it and keep going’ stuck in my head so I have. Even though when I started I was dire at comedy I have kept trucking along and would hope I have now made it to the rank of acceptable. Struan Logan, Struan All Over the World, Counting House: Attic, 18:05
In 1995 my father gave my mother a Best of The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band CD for her birthday. It was the first CD that we, as a family, owned. I was nine years old and the excitement was palpable. Three months later, when he gave her a CD player for Christmas, it reached fever pitch. I remember listening to it over and over again. I think the song Mr Apollo might still be the funniest thing I can think of, and I knew I wanted to do something like that. Douglas Walker, Douglas Walker Presents: Of Christmas Past, Underbelly Clover, 22:50
Margaret Cho, Chelsea Handler, Amy Schumer, Sarah Silverman, Tiffany Haddish, Natasha Leggero, Chelsea Peretti and any woman in comedy owning her voice as she conquers. Jake Howie, Read My Lips, Just the Tonic Caves, 21:30
Back in 2016 I was crowned winner of London’s “Not Another Drag Competition”. Before then I had never really performed in drag before. Every week of the competition we were set challenges, and one week we had to put together 15 minutes of material. I decided to do a stand-up routine where I performed a séance and contacted all my favourite dead celebrities, culminating with the spirit of Prince possessing a dildo, which I had to exorcise. Thoroughly. It was the first time I had tried stand-up, and it felt so natural and good, and the jokes just sort of spilled out of me. Oh – and people laughed! From that moment I was hooked. Georgia Tasda, Georgia Tasda Means Business, CC Blooms, 22:30
Jen Brister, after seeing here show many years ago and I thought if this is what comedy is I like it and I want to be friends with her! Ruth E. Cockburn, Love Letters From Blackpool, Summerhall, 14:40
Growing up, I assumed everyone could recite a two-hour Victoria Wood stand-up set or know every French and Saunders sketch, or every word of Blackadder. It’s only when I got older that I realised maybe I was a bit more into comedy than other people. I eventually got into doing stand-up because I’d moved back in with my parents for a bit and, to be honest, I just needed to get out of the house. Emmy Fyles, Live Your Best Life, Hanover Tap), 13:15
My drama teacher at school always gave me the comedy parts, saying I had great comic timing, and she really encouraged that. She t old me to watch people like French & Saunders, Carol Burnett and Lucille Ball so I could hone in on it. So Mrs Bray, along with the people she told me to watch, really inspired me to pursue comedy. Maisie Adam, Vague, Gilded Balloon 16:30
Ricardo Salami. A street performer I saw as a child who never knew he changed the course of my life forever. He since died, and I never got the chance to thank him. Hopefully he won’t mind that I took his name and carried it with me on my adventures. Mat Ricardo, Mat Ricardo vs The World, Las Vegas Room, City Cafe, 12:30
A video cassette of Eddie Izzard. And Don Ward, the owner of the Comedy Store in Mumbai, refusing to let me leave without an audition. I’d come to do an article on him opening his club in India in 2010. Anuvab Pal, Empire, Pleasance Courtyard, 19:00
My dad, the comedian Mac McDonald and one of the funniest people I know, took me and my sister around the comedy circuit with a cabaret comedy act when I was 10 years old and I never looked back. Naomi McDonald, Naomi McDonald: Stardumb, Fireside, 15:45
Josie Long and my grandma; people who pull you into a story you wouldn’t care to hear from anyone else Helen Duff, How Deep is Your Duff, The Hive, 21:00
> My late director, Frank McAnulty. I took an improv class at The Second City on a whim after seeing an online ad (they work!) and then got accepted into their conservatory. I presented a comedy song for our classes graduating sketch revue, and his excitement and investment in it (and in all of us) made me feel like I should continue with this comedy thing, even thought I still had no idea what it was. And now, many years later, that same song is in my musical comedy that I am bringing to the Edinburgh Fringe this summer. So, thank you Frank! Anesti Danelis, Songs For A New World Order, Laughing Horse @ The Hanover Tap, 12:00
The seriousness of life Juliette Burton, Butterfly Effect, Gilded Balloon, 16:15
The worrying thing is I have absolutely no idea. I did sketches in s Ian Smith, Craft, Underbelly: Buttercup, 17:15
wful clients at my last desk job, John Pendal, We Are Family, Gilded Balloon Teviot, 17:30 A
A free CD that was on the front of Loaded magazine with clips of stand up on it. I remember the routines to this day. Brett Goldstein What Is Love Baby Don’t Hurt Me, Pleasance: Beneath, 19:00
Jack Daniels and Desperation. Garrett Millerick, Sunflower, Tron, 17:00
The man who mistook me for Reg D Hunter at a gig and then wet himself when he heard my Oldham accent. If it all fails I could be a tribute act Che Burnley, Elvis Was Racist?, Bar Basis, 21:30
Dave Chappelle and the Goon Show Pierre Novellie, See Novellie, Hear Novellie, Speak Novellie, Pleasance Courtyard, 19:15
comedian came to my uni to put on a comedy writing workshop and there was an open mic night at the end of it, and from then I was hooked. I bumped into that comedian who put on the workshop in Edinburgh a few years later, and I thanked her for getting me into comedy, and she said: ‘OK, well I probably got paid for it anyway” and walked away. Cool! David McIver, David McIver Is a Nice Little Man, 14:30 A
I’ve done lots of grown up jobs. I’ve run a successful business. But I’m rubbish with authority and I’m always distracting people from their work. There’s nothing else left for me to do. Plus, I saw Suzie Ruffell’s show a couple of years ago and she made it look do-able. Sam Fraser, Stand Up, Weather Girl!, Counting House, 19:45
A combination of Mike Leigh’s mid 70s TV films and the adverts at the back of The stage And TV Today Graham Fellows, Completely out of Character, Maggie’s Chamber @ The Free Sisters, 16:30
Intellectual bravado and physical cowardice. Lee Apsey, CSI: Crime Scene Improvisation, Underbelly, Bristo Square, 15:35
I grew up watching comedians like Frank Skinner, Lee Evans, Dave Allen, Spike Milligan etc. but it never crossed my mind that I could be a comedian until I worked at Up The Creek. I owe that place everything. Rich Wilson, Still Relevant, Sneaky Pete’s, 18:15
I had years of people telling me I was funny/weird and that I should try stand-up, but I had never really been exposed to it outside of TV. I had a break up that made me finally say fuck it and I went to do it. What a cliche! It was actually a weird feeling of relief finding comedy and when I looked out at that first crowd I realised it had been in my heart all along. Matthew Highton, Insufficient Memory, Heroes at Dragonfly, 20:40
interned at a radio station during college. The breakfast DJ is a stand up comedian called Bernard O’Shea. He suggested I do comedy, I batted it off and he organised a five minute support slot. I thad two weeks to write five minutes. Most of my first set was about my nan drinking hot tub water with a straw by accident and the IRA’s love of denim. I was so nervous and the adrenaline rush was amazing. I fell in love with comedy instantly and I’ve been chasing that same rush and never came close. Alison Spittle, Worrier Princess, Gilded Balloon Teviot, Balcony, 17:15 I
I wasn’t inspired, I was cursed. A witch I think. Terrible business. I thought it was a free potato, but it turned out it belong to her. John Luke Roberts, All I Wanna Do Is [FX: GUNSHOTS] With a [FX: GUN RELOADING] and [FX: CASH REGISTER] and Perform Some Comedy!, Assembly: Studio Five, 17:30
I just wanted to be Rowan Atkinson. He got to say all the funny things but other people wrote them for him. Seemed absolutely ideal. Kieran Hodgson, Kieran Hodgson: ’75, Pleasance Beneath, 20:15
It’s so uncool but it was actually my mum who encouraged me to start stand up. I was always writing funny stories as a kid and would do anything to avoid work and have a laugh at school and in subsequent jobs later on so she suggested I give stand up a go. I thought it sounded the worst idea ever but turns out she was right. Rachel Fairburn, The Wolf at the Door, Underbelly, Dexter, 21:30
I met an open mic comic and realised people were allowed to be bad at it Jez Watts, #1 Comedy Great Fun Best Show Jez Watts, The Three Sisters, 17:15
Published: 23 Aug 2018
Source: http://www.chortle.co.uk/features/2018/08/22/41023/what_inspired_you_to_get_into_comedy%3F
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Scotland Tour - Day 3 (8/29)
First off, I've been wanting to say this since we got to Edinburgh, but keep forgetting to mention it. I think that Irish and Scottish drivers are terrific. They manage to drive side by side in these teeny weeny lanes and not get in each other's way. In addition, they are very polite drivers in that they hardly ever honk, and they stop for others when doing so would make the other person's passage easier (or even possible). Hats off to them!
Also, as a side observation, while some of the Irish people were "-ish" when it came to time, that was not the case in Scotland. Everyone we dealt with was right on time.
Lastly, my pictures from now on are going to feature a lot of landscapes; I've never met a landscape I didn't like, particularly if there are photogenic clouds involved. So just keep going to another picture that gives more context to the post. The other sad thing is that sometimes the pictures are in the reverse order than what I described because of the way photos are uploaded and sorted in my PC, and then by Shutterfly. Nothing I can do about that.
Okay, back to the tour. Toda we leave Edinburgh and head for St. Andrews, then Pitlochry and finally to a town in the Scottish Highlands, where we'll stay two nights (yay!).
We travel North out of Edinburgh and cross the Firth of Forth on the bridge we say earlier from the train. Our guide tells us that there was a famous disaster here when the train bridge sank, killing all aboard. When they rebuilt it, they left little pieces of the old bridge as a memorial to those killed. Then we go along the coast for a bit (just like on the train) and then go on to St. Andrews.
St. Andrews is not famous just as the self-titled home of golf, where golf first started, but it is also the name of the town that's nearby, that in addition to being very pretty, contains the University of St Andrews. Among other claims to fame, Prince William attended St. Andrews. He and the royal family wanted a place where he could get a first rate education, but not be in a famous place like Oxford or Cambridge where he would be in the public eye constantly. They chose St Andrews and the media even cooperated, leaving him alone while there. He apparently met Kate Middleton there, and gossip has it that they split, but reconnected later on during William's stay.
St. Andrews's was founded in 1413 and is the third oldest university in the English-speaking world. Almost 80 years before America was discovered. We drove around the town after we finished with the golf course.
St. Andrews (golf and town) are by the sea; that's maybe not news to most of you, but I was surprised. It has a nice little beach.
As you come into the St. Andrew's golf course, one of the first things you see is a statue of two horses, called Kelpies. The Kelpies were mythological beasts that possessed the strength and endurance of 10 horses. They represent the heavy horses that pulled the wagons, ploughs, barges and coalships (in the canals), the essence of Scottish industry.
St. Andrews has The Old Course, i.e., the original golf course and The Old Course Hotel runs alongside it. But nowadays there are 7 courses in total and they are all public. There are 6 additional courses in the area, and they are also all public. Apparently now someone is building or thinking of building another one, a high-end one, that would be a membership-only course, and furthermore, by invitation only. This does not sit well with the locals because they now pay around 180 pounds for a one-year membership at any of the public courses. That is the cost of one round of golf, so it's a heck of a bargain.
One wall at the course is called the Faces of Golf and features a lot of famous players.
We went on to Pitlochry, a small village on the shores of the River Tummel. It was made famous by Queen Victoria when she fell in love with the Scottish Highlands, she told everyone that it was one of the finest resorts in Europe and people started flocking to it. We mostly walked around a main street with lots of shops and restaurants, but not really a lot to see. We ate at one of the restaurants and it was just okay. Other people did some shopping as well.
Today was one of the days when we had an Optional Experience; these are activities for which you pay extra, but take you (in theory at least) to interesting places. So this afternoon those of use who selected the Optional Experience were taken to Blair Castle, home of the Duke of Atholl - the only man in Britain to have a private army. So while the rest of the people had more time to spend in Pitlochry, we went on.
Blair Castle is, in contrast to most castles, painted white. It is surrounded by really nice scenery. They let you take pictures outside, but not inside. We had to wait a while outside, as they like to leave a little room between groups so that there are no crushes.
We trudged up and down the castle and visited several anterooms, bedroom, sitting rooms, music room, dressing rooms, etc. After a while it got to be too much walking for me and I went through the rest of the exhibits as fast as I could. Of all I saw and heard, this is what I remember. The main room you come into from the grounds is covered in weaponry, every inch of every wall has halberds, swords, muskets, and other weapons, as well as a bunch of antlered deer heads. Clearly a man decorated this room. A woman was heard to tell her husband that there was no way he was going to do that at home.
I also remember a room filled with awards that were interesting by the many different designs that the awards had.
The last item I remember is that the current duke (the 12th) had to be found by going up and across the family tree because there were no direct male descendants. So a guy who is a computer programmer in South Africa became the Duke of Atholl. Carol was trying to picture him at a bar trying to pick up a young lady by telling her that he was a programmer, and the 12th Duke of Atholl. She ran with this idea, and it was very funny.
While we were in the castle, our driver Eddie went to pick up everyone else and brought them to the castle; when they arrived, we hopped aboard and kept on with the regular tour. Next stop was the place where we were going to spend 2 nights.
We passed a lot of reasonably flat areas, with mountains way in the background, and lots of pastures for sheep (mostly), cows, and horses. Lots of areas are very rocky and there you tend to see a lot of rock fences, which are made from rocks found in the pasture which have to be removed. They are fitted together without mortar. That makes it "easy" when there is a need to move animals from one pasture to another, to remove a part of the wall, get the herd moved, and then rebuild the wall. In other places they use lines of trees, or rows of hedges, or even posts and bailing wire.
The hills varied from just rocky crags with moss growing here and there, to very forested, to forested partway up the hill and nude above, and anything else in between. But always looking beautiful and changing as the light changed. There were great cloud formations wherever you looked.
We arrived at the place where we were staying, called Laggan House, a hotel in the middle of nowhere, but nestled in a lovely setting. It rained as we were arriving and as we enter the main lodge, they started assigning room numbers. Most were in the main lodge, but there were also a couple of cottages a little off to the side. We ended up in a biggish room with a gigantic bathroom (which is why I took the picture). The only caveat I had is that the floors creaked with practically every step and I tried to float, but it didn't work. Later on I was able to see that there were no other bedrooms underneath the rooms on my side, and I felt better.
There was going to be another Optional Experience, this time a Highland Farm Experience, where we would meet Neil and his border collies, who would show us how he could command the dogs with various whistling and words, and get the sheep rounded up, moved from one place to another, split up into two groups, and other maneuvers. This was a "weather permitting" activity, so Gary our tour guide checked the weather where Neil was located, and he said it was not supposed to rain.
Off we went to see Neil. He was pretty amazing; he had 6 or so border collies and they couldn't wait to get to work. He had general commands for everyone, and he had individual command for each, the general mostly words, and the individual with his whistling. Dogs have very keen hearing, so they were able to obey commands that he spoke in a low voice while they were on the other end of the pasture. It was a very entertaining show.
Then he told us about shearing. Most of it is done with electric shear during the summer, leaving them a little bit of coat so that they wouldn't go into the cold with nothing. When an animal went missing and was not caught until later, then they used shearing scissors. He had his son (13?) start shearing a sheep. When they grab a sheep for shearing, it looks like they are being handled with a lot of force and violence, but the sheep don't put up a fight or look particularly discomfited. The sheep are heavy, so to turn them on their back required a bit of heaving and dragging. He started shearing another animal, and after a few cuts, opened it to anyone who wanted to experience it. Mind you, he didn't just hand the shears to someone and let go of the animal, but the held the animal and guided the person hand in making the cuts. Several people volunteered to go, including Carol.
By this time I was tired and went to sit in the bus and my timing was impeccable as it started to rain harder. It had drizzled a little, on and off, during the demonstration, but this was serious, and so it was over and everyone piled onto the buses (there were two other busloads there to witness the demonstration).
On the way home, some more shots of different types of terrains and some typical houses.
There was water all around, pooling, streaming, creating temporary waterfalls, rivulets and mud puddles.
Lots of lochs or lakes around, there's a string of them running to the North Atlantic, that are salt water and some are tidal lochs. Other are further away and are fresh water.
Since we've been in the Highlands, the mountains have moved closer.
And that's it for Day 3 (8/29) of the Scottish Tour.
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Haha soz
so looks like I haven’t done an update since Barcelona, which was about 15 months ago..
A shit tonne has actually happened since that trip, I will endeavour to give as much detail as possible, but I make no promises.
Here we go:
Olivia and I flew into Paris and spent the first day exploring Paris, which was amazing. We did the Eiffel Tower, ate pastries and of course, went and got macarons from Laduree. We lasted 2 days before we finally exploded and it resulted in me packing my bags and flying back to Edinburgh. Olivia ended up doing the rest of the trip by herself, which probably wasn’t terrible. She really enjoyed being able to do her own thing.
Edinburgh was a bit lame in those 2 weeks as Tristan was away on an army camp and Anna was away as well. I spent my days cooped up in Anna’s flat trying not to spend any money before jetting off to DC. I managed to kill a week (even though it felt like forever) and I finally hopped on the plane down the London before boarding another flight to DC where I did a layover in Iceland. It was a long, painful flight and I was so jet-lagged when I finally arrived into Baltimore Airport where Connor picked me up. Seeing him again was magical, I didn’t realise how much I missed him. We headed back to his place and I was trying so hard not to fall asleep. I felt awful because all I wanted to do was chat and sing and just enjoy being with Connor. We finally get back to his place and head out in search of food. I almost fell asleep eating my food, so we headed back to his place and I crashed around 10pm and Connor headed out to mates place in another apartment for a bit so I could get some rest.
The next few days he showed me around DC and we visited the monuments which we beautiful. I would love to go back some day and do it all again. DC was my favourite state in America (so far). After a few days with Connor, I jumped on a bus up to Philadelphia to visit Aunty Liz and Uncle Arthur for a week. It was amazing to see them again, and see their house and see what their lives are like. They live in a really nice, quant suburban area of Philly where they are surrounded by woodlands and little coffee shops. Their house was beautiful and it was great to catch up with William and Alex as well. After spending a week with Liz and Arthur, I jumped on another bus up to the next state; NEW YORK!
So wow. New York was next level! Connor and I were staying at a hostel on the edge of Central Park, it was alright.. I’ve stayed in better places, but for the price of it, we couldn’t complain. We spent our first day walking from our hostel (north west central park) through central park and down in the centre of Manhattan to walk through Broadway and experience the real New York. One of the nights that we were there, we even went to a Broadway show - MISERY. One of my favourite books by Stephen King. The main character - Paul Sheldon, was played by Bruce Willis which was pretty cool to see him doing some live play acting. It was such a great night! The next day Connor and I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and explored the back streets of Brooklyn. After quite awhile, we finally came across the hipster area of Brooklyn which was so cool (I did not feel cool enough to hang out there). It was full of guys with beards and top buns. It was surreal. I would have bought all the clothes if it weren’t for the fact that everything costed ridiculous amounts of money. That day was a lot of weeping, whining and window shopping.
From New York, Connor and I headed back down to Philly together to spend Christmas with Liz, Arthur and Alex (William was in the Canary Islands with his boyfriend). It was the most incredible few days, they loved Connor and Connor loved them. We all got drunk together on many occasions and spent our days playing board games and setting up the house for Christmas Day. After Xmas, Connor and I headed back down to DC for New Years where we ended up just spending it in his apartment getting drunk, dancing, and making ridiculous videos of ourselves! We spent the next few days just chilling, teaching ourselves to play guitar and eating amazing food. We rented a car and drove to West Virginia and it was the best road trip possibly ever. We sang and sang and sang. We stopped off at Shenandoah National Park and explored that for a bit. We eventually made it to Connors flat mates house, whose family we were visiting as there was a massive post christmas party taking place down the road. Holy shitting christ - this was probably one of the most surreal experiences of my life (other than the caving in Budapest). The house party we ended up going to was a lot of family friends gathering together in the massive, white estate looking house in the middle of bumfuck nowhere in Virginia. The wives were all perfect and the husbands.. well they weren’t so perfect. It was almost like stepping in the movie, The Stepford Wives. The children were perfection, we all got high, and they all sat around and sang beautiful songs and played instruments. Connor and I just sat back and enjoyed. It doesn’t sound like much, but you needed to be there to experience it. For them it was so normal, but my god, yeah surreal..
We headed back to DC the next day and headed onto our next destination, Boston. Now, I can’t really say much for Boston. Maybe it was because it was our last state on the trip, or because it was fucking freezing, I don’t know. But neither of us loved it. We visited Harvard whilst we were there and it was pretty underwhelming. I can’t even recall what else we did there - we did stumble upon this cool comic book store. But that’s basically it. (I couldn’t even tell you how long we were there).
I flew home after Boston, and the first thing I did when I landed was call Anna and tell her I was craving Wings, and then I texted Tristan and told him the same thing. 1 hour later and I found myself sitting in Wings with my two favourite people, in my favourite cafe, in my favourite city in the world. I couldn’t have been happier. It was great to catch up with them and just seeing their faces again were great. I hadn’t seen either of them in 6 weeks. It was great to see Tristan again and know that we could be apart for 6 weeks and still have the flame. Especially because we had only been seeing each other for 3 weeks when I made the decision to stay in Edinburgh for a further 6 months.
Tris and I had booked an AirBnB for my return as we wanted to spend some time together and celebrate our own little Christmas. We rented it up near Toll Cross really close to where Charlie was living. It was a really cute little apartment. I had gotten Tris a mug from the Friends store and he got me a copy of Child44 - my favourite book at the time. It was a lovely weekend with him.
I got a job pretty quickly at JLT - an occupational pension administrator company. It was lame as hell, but it paid the bills - well until Tristans mum asked me to move in with them about 4 months into Tris and I dating. I said yes and I was suddenly living cost free - which was great as Tristan had decided to come back to New Zealand with me in June. Not a lot happened in my last 6 months of living in Edinburgh. It was a pretty mundane lifestyle as Tristan and I were frantically saving for New Zealand and I worked a VERY mundane job. I saw the girls as much as possible, but after moving out to Dalmeny, it was pretty hard to see them most days. It was mainly in the weekends. I miss them all so damn much.
Tristan and I came back in NZ in June 2016, and we spent 2 months adventuring around the North Island and spending time with Mum and Nigel and then Dad and Drew. Tris had planned to only spend 2 months here as he needed to get back to Scotland for Uni and Army. I was OK with that at the time, and I am certainly OK with it now. I think I always knew that I didn’t see Tristan as a long term partner. Which is a shame - because I know that he saw me that way. I broke up with him about a week after he left. I realised that I didn’t miss him as much as I should have. Every time he called me, it felt like a chore to have to answer the phone and chat to him. So that was the end of that..
I got a job pretty quickly, working at Fisher Funds for a month covering a guy called Matt who was heading to America to visit his mum who was sick. The job was a crappy job, but I ended up making an incredible couple of friend through the job. Mainly - Helen. Helen has become one of my closest friends in Auckland and I don’t know what I would do without her. She is currently 6 months pregnant and I cannot wait to be ‘Aunty Elle’ and she has named me. I utterly adore her <3. Another couple of friends I have made from Fishers is Sarah and Matt. Both incredible and I love hanging out with all of them.
I last at Fishers for a few weeks but ended up resigning as there ended up being a bit of a complication as I outted them accidentally to the recruitment agency that Fishers was lying to them and avoiding paying recruitment fees.. so post that, there ended up being some bullying and I wasn’t going to stand for it, so I was OUT. I moved to Perpetual Guardian, which really wasn’t any better. It was a total bore - it was working in Wills, EPA’s and Trusts which could not have been more boring if i’d tried. Whilst working there, I got a call from Nuala from Hudson tell me about this new job at Network for Learning where I would be Admin/Receptionist in this really awesome tech company in Parnell. Well, you shoulda seen my face when I was offered the job after an interview the week before. I couldn’t have got out of Perpetual Guardian fast enough.
So,
Since June last year, Tristan and I ventured around the North Island together for 2 months, then I broke up with him a week after he left because I realised I didn’t love him anymore. I have jumped between 3 jobs since being back. I moved into Glen Innes/St Johns with Dad and Drew since being and home, and hopefully we will be moving again soon. Mum and Nigel live in Te Aroha and Olivia is killing it at The Raw Kitchen. Nothing overly noteworthy has happened over the past 10 months other than I now work at N4L which I love, living at home still, and am currently ‘seeing’ someone who I think is pretty damn cool. Hope he sticks around when he finds out how much of a weirdo I am.
Oh on a kinda exciting note: I have flights booked to Japan in August for a 20 days solo trip. Also, heading down to Dunedin/Wanaka for 6 days next week. Hopefully after that I will have some interesting things to talk about.
Ciao.
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i have always fancied her, ever since that first time i slid into her twitter DMs like a creepy indie snake. "alright doll, your music taste is perfecto 👌🏻". who the fuck did i think i was? when i have i ever said "doll"? and when has anyone in the world ever said "perfecto"? but for some reason she replied to that hideous line. we spoke for about a year, and then we went to see The View in glasgow together. i was by myself, and she had some weird friend with her that had strange blue hair. it was The View, so the crowd was mental. i spent the whole gig holding her hand and making sure she didn't get squashed by some big bastard from Paisley. after the gig i went to an after party the band were DJing at. i invited her but her mates mam was picking them up so they had to shoot off. she was only 16 at the time so she wouldn't have been able to come anyway. would have been nice to spend more time with her though. then for the next 4 years i didn't see her once, but we spoke nearly everyday. there was a brief period where she hated me for the amount i swear, and my inability to keep my opinions on fucking anything to myself. when we started speaking again she had a boyfriend and had moved to Lyon as part of her uni course. she's got some talent for languages like. in my opinion she's fluent in french and spanish, although she disagrees. and she speaks a bit of catalan, italian and fucking arabic. that's crazy impressive. so yeah, she was living in lyon and i was still in shetland, going out every weekend and spending every penny i had on drink and drugs. it was a dark period in my life. i was taking coke and pills every weekend, and tried some mental shit. meth, ket, acid. apart from heroin, crack and mushies, i'm sure i've taken everything. don't get me wrong, those weekends were amazing. i met some great people and went to some monumental parties. but she hated it. every little bit of it. she hated who i was when i was on shit, and she hated the fact that i didn't give a toss about my own well being. but instead of telling me to fuck off, she made me realise that you just can't live like that. i've not really taken anything since the end of august. the odd line here and there when i felt like i needed it, but nowhere near as much as before. i have a feeling that's about to change in the coming weeks though. i'm not really sure how it happened, but when she was in lyon i fell madly for her. instead of just being that friend i thought was hot, she was the one. suddenly everything she did was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever done. we spoke every single day, all day. she fell for me too. i don't know what i did, which is annoying, but she did. she started watching football and listened to the indie bands i always listen to and made me teach her shetland dialect. and then when she told me she was splitting up with her boyfriend, fuck was that a good day. she sent me nudes and we asked at each other on facetime quite a lot. and she told all her friends and family about me. those months were the peak man. the absolute apex of my miserable existence. her and ex stayed friends though, which is always worrying. and then about a month after they split up, they went to bordeaux together. there was a group of about six of them. but even so. going on holiday with your ex a month after splitting up isn't gonna make the new guy you've said you love feel very good. i would have been fine with it if me and her had met up at some point between them splitting up and meeting up again. so yeah, i was pretty raging, and said a lot of things i probably shouldn't have. but i think it was warranted. i loved her so much and i was just worried she'd sleep with him. but she made me realise i had nothing to worry about. she had no feelings for him anymore and only cared about me. yaaaasssssss right? nah, not really. in the following 7 days she told me she didn't love me anymore, her ex was coming to lyon for some christmas market, we should just be friends who send each other nudes, and finally that she had fucked her ex. yup. the prick i had nothing to worry about was several inches inside the girl i loved. then when she moved back to scotland she slept with him another 3 or 4 times. great. before she slept with him, we'd agreed to see paolo nutini at hogmanay in edinburgh. so she said she'd come and stay at my hotel for the entire time i was down. but after her fucking her ex i wasn't too keen on it. in fact with my flights and my hotel weren't non refundable i wouldn't have bothered. shaun told me not to go. like a fucking oracle he knew something would fuck it up and i shouldn't go. but i did. and the first three days were amazing. it was like we were a couple. we kissed, fucked, held hands. it was great. i have her the stuff i bought her for christmas. one of them was this dress, and she looked amazing in it. she decided to wear it out that night. we met up with my mates from home who were down as well, and she got on with them like a fucking house on fire. she was prettier, wittier and more fun than their girlfriends, and i was fucking proud of myself man. it was going so well. until we got to paolo. about 4 songs in she saw a massive group of her mates from campbeltown. so she went over to speak to them. i went with her. she didn't introduce me to one of them, and they all stood with her backs to me as she forgot my very existence. so i stood by myself until midnight when she reappeared and kissed me and said happy new year, and we watched the fireworks together. then paolo came back on and she fucked off again. it wasn't great. i texted my mates and told them what had happened. shaun was clearly fucked, but told me to keep my chin up and not let it get to me. matthew phoned me after we'd left and really settled me. told me they were all there for me when i get back and to just get through the weekend and that i'd done really well to just go there and try it. what a man. the next day we argued all day. she didn't see how leaving me by myself to dance with her mates when we had gone there together was a cunt move. we had about 4 proper shouting matches. the last one was at 10 at night. we were lying in bed and i said to her that when she leaves we shouldn't speak, and that i'd delete her number and she should delete mine. then some harsh words were said, a wine bottle was thrown, she packed her things and i haven't seen her since. i went to bed, tweeted some shit about being unhappy. and haley was straight on snapchat making sure i was okay. i got some serious venting done to her. we've not been friends long but she's helped me through two shit times now. she has her own problems so she can't be relied upon consistently, but she's honest as fuck and that's golden. so now i'm sitting in the airport, watching all the happy, sad and in between people going about their business, listening to The National, drinking my overpriced pint of cider, and thinking about her. in fact the only reason i'm writing all this down here is so that i don't text her. she's only been out of my life for about 14 hours and i miss her. fuck knows how i'll feel in 14 days. could be anything in between missing her so much i killed myself, or we could start speaking again and try to work through it, or we could forget each other exists and live happy, separate lives. who knows? but i'm pretty sure in the darkest furthest away party of my mind she'll always be wearing that dress i bought her for christmas, smiling at me and sitting on the end of that hotel bed. fuck she looked amazing this weekend. even when she was bouncing about at paolo, ignoring me with those freaks from campbeltown, i still just wanted to hold her and sing into her little face and make her do that smile thing she does with her tongue behind her teeth. this pint tastes like shit by the way. £4.70 for a pint of pish. thatchers britain xxx
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