“Will, remind me why I am here.” You complain, pushing the cart behind him.
“Because you are a girl and I need your good taste.” He says, stopping in front of a pre-made living room.
Will and you have been friends for two years, and oh, doesn’t the word ‘friends’ hurt. You have been in love with William for what it seems like an eternity, but he is too focused on hockey and hockey and hockey and nothing but hockey, to actually think about love.
“Why being a girl means that I have good taste?” You ask, shaking your head at a blanket he is looking.
“Because girls have better taste in general.” He answers, putting it down with a pout. “And I want my house to be nice.”
William has bought a pretty nice maisonette after his three years contract extension with the Toronto Maple Leafs and he decided that the house would feel more like home, like Sweden home, if he got the furniture for it in IKEA. The house is completely empty aside from the bathrooms and kitchen, that are fully furnitured.
“So instead of paying an interior designer to do the job you thought that I could do it.” You say, pointing at a dark dining room table. “Without even paying me a penny.”
“I’ll buy you a plate of Swedish meatballs when we are done.” He jokes and you are about to slap his shoulder, but he catches your hand before it makes contact.
Will and you walk around the store, grabbing small pieces like lamps, glasses, plates, silverware… and taking pictures of the bigger pieces of furniture so you can find them later on the warehouse part of the store.
“What does ‘sanning’ mean?” You ask him, looking at the tag of one of the plates you have chosen.
“Truth.” He says, smiling at me.
“And ‘variera’?” You ask again, reading another tag.
“Vary.” He translates for you again, grabbing a set of spatulas and looking at them.
You nod, looking at more stuff for his kitchen. You know that he isn’t going to cook that much, but you are trying to get everything that it’s convenient to have. You show him a big bowl that could be used for salads or snacks and he nods, smiling when he sees the name of the container.
“What is it so funny?” You wonder, putting it in the cart.
“ ‘Vargaden’ means everyday life.” He explains and you nod again. Will loves to speak Swedish to you, but just because he knows that you don’t understand a word and it amuses him. “Come on min kära, let’s get all the heavy duty and go home.”
It takes you another half an hour to get all the pieces of furniture and pay. You get the smaller things in Will’s car and arrange the delivery of the couches, tables and beds for tomorrow.
Will drives us to his new home, which is in much better neighborhood than yours. He parks his car in the underground garage and you two make three or four trips up and down the building to carry everything to his house.
“So, where are my meatballs?” You ask, putting the last bag of stuff down and rubbing your sore hands from carrying stuff.
“I want Thai food.” He shrugs, looking at the boxes, trying to decide what to put together first. “What should we put together first? The bedside tables or that bookshelf?”
“We? Uh uh, blondie.” You say, sitting on the floor and taking your shoes off. “I am not putting together anything. I am just here for the food.”
“Well, order some take out if you are just going to sit on your pretty butt all night.” He huffs, choosing the bookshelf’s box and starting to open it and taking all the pieces out.
You order some Thai food for both of you and sit on the floor with your back against the wall. Willy reads the instructions and tries to follow them, but two people are required to put it together.
“(y/n), please.” He begs after spending half an hour trying after giving up. “Help.”
“What are you going to give me in return?” You wonder, smirking at him.
“Vad du vill (whatever you want), (y/n)” He says in Swedish and you raise an eyebrow. “Just help me.”
“I want you to stop speaking to me in a language I don’t understand.” You complain, getting on your feet and walking towards him, helping him with the bookshelf.
By the time you finish working on the piece of furniture the food has gone cold and you two are sweaty and tired.
“Beer?” He asks, grabbing a couple bottles from the fridge and handing you one of them.
“Tack (Thank you).” You answer him and he smiles at you, loving your accent.
“I need to teach you more Swedish, it sounds good in your mouth.” He says, making you blush furiously.
“Then teach me.” You agree and he smirks, raising his beer.
“Öl.” He says, pointing at the bottle on his hand.
“Öl is beer?” You wonder and he nods. “Okay, next.”
“Hallå.” He says and you repeat, making him laugh. “That’s ‘hello’.”
“Next.” You request.
“Snygg.” You mimic his pronunciation, but he doesn’t translate it for you.
“What’s that?” You say and he shrugs.
“Take a wild guess?” He challenges you and you chew on your lower lip.
“Put it on a sentence for me?” You ask and he nods, thinking about it for a second.
“You are snygg.” He says and you frown, thinking about every mean thing that snygg could be.
“Dumb?” You ask and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Short? Strong-headed?”
“Beautiful, (y/n). You are beautiful.” He says and you blush again. “Another?” He asks and you nod, looking down so he cannot see how red your face is. “Jar älskar dig.”
“That’s a long one.” You protest and he gives you an encouraging look. “Jar älska di?”
“Jar älskar dig.” And you repeat it, not getting it quite right but close enough.
“What does it mean?” You whisper.
William doesn’t speak at first, looking straight at your eyes and you feel like you are getting lost in those blue eyes. Will leans in, his lips just an inch away from yours.
“I love you.” He whispers back and you feel your heart flutter.
“It is what it means or what you mean?” Your voice is so quiet that you are not sure if he has heard you or not.
“Both.” He says, his lips crashing with yours.
“I hope that your new bed is more comfortable than this.” You whisper, rubbing circles on the skin of his chest.
You are laying on a blow out mattress, both of you wrapped around each other. Will is playing with strands of your hair, twisting and wrapping them around his fingers.
“It’s a good thing that you love all the furniture I’ve got.” He chuckles, massaging your scalp softly.
“Yeah well, you have good taste.” You mock him and he laughs.
“I definitely do.” He says, putting his finger under your chin and making you look at him, leaning in for a soft kiss.
Richard stopped outside your small maisonette block after you had told him the way back to your flat. There was definitely a tension sitting in the air now, both of you wanting to progress further and open the gates to the miracles and mysteries that were shrouding this whole circumstance.
“Do you want to come in?” you asked him. This was the kind of behaviour you would never have partaken in before your new life in France had begun. You never took chances before, especially with men you found attractive. It was seen so many times on the television; in shows and films. A man drives a woman home and she asks him in for a drink. But there was no way you could let him go. You would do absolutely anything it took to get your Raymond back.
“How can I say no?” Richard replied, looking down at the steering wheel which was still tight in his grip. “I’ve been having dreams, and in them I’m called Raymond, and I’m kissing my wife’s stomach, promising I’ll come back to her. The voice I hear…it’s yours.”
Richard looked up at you, his eyes filling with tears.
“I wake up every night, waiting for a woman I never thought existed,” he said, his voice was breaking as he looked at you.
You whispered his name and moved towards him, your hand reaching for his cheek, but you stopped. Your hand began to tremble and the apprehension took hold. But his reaction shocked you.
Richard took your hand and kissed the palm of it, and brushed it down his face. Then he said something, the words trailing into French. But two words made sense to you, which he would always tell you, in both French and English. “Mon amour.”
As the frustration and lust began to rise, you both got out of the car and made your way into the maisonette block. There was so much joy radiating through you that you couldn’t help but laugh as you both got into the small flat and rushed into an embrace.
Raymond kissed you hungrily, the man you once knew rising again from this new body. “I waited so many years here for you,” he whispered, his voice thick with not only lust but his French accent. The sound of it made you melt and you groaned loudly. “I was locked away, pining for you inside this body. I promised I would return to both of you.” And then he slipped his hand down onto your belly.
“We’re having a girl,” you told him.
Raymond gasped and then looked down at your bump again, almost in disbelief. “My own little daughter.”
You couldn’t help but break down into tears and you pulled Raymond to you, holding him so tight. His smell was different, consisting of a cool scented deodorant, but his body was still broad and muscular beneath yours. “I love you so much,” you wept. “I nearly gave her away because I couldn’t live without you with me.”
Raymond pulled from your embrace gently. “I am here now, my love. I will take care of both of you.”
Anonymous said: Do bts have a house or a maisonette?
Anonymous said: I’m sorry did they move dorm again? Because it looked like Taehyung had his own room?
Hi all they didn’t move dorms, it’s still the same dorm during the anniversary party. not sure what changed though with the rooms bcoz it seems taehyung has a room for himself but there’s also a door at the end of his bed so maybe that’s joon’s room? they fight about mosquitoes hehe~
I dunno if it’s a house or what hehe~ I don’t encourage to get those type of details about their dorms. I just know what they tell us.
The acrid smell of stale smoke rouses me to consciousness. I prise my eyes open with a grimace, lifting my arm to shield myself from the eager early morning sunlight pulsing through the blinds with ease. A quick survey of my surroundings: toast crumbs, half-finished Diet Coke with what looks like a joint haphazardly stubbed out into it, pillows scattered across the floor. The coffee table lies askew over the stripy woven rug, stark against the pine floorboards which are not long since polished. Last night began innocently enough as drinks with the office crew - and clearly spiralled into a full-on bender seeing as I haven’t smoked weed since I was fifteen - which means I am in trouble. I stretch, running my dry tongue over my slimy teeth, cracking my knuckles as I shake sleep away and make one… two… three attempts at getting up.
Overall, the flat – modern, open plan, converted maisonette, a prime location in kissing distance of the city centre – was a sweet deal. As a twenty-something recently divorced journalist living in London I am lucky to have more than a bedsit and perpetually pleased about it. Less pleased, though, about the vaguely familiar pair of black pants I have just noticed hanging jauntily from the doorknob as though primed for seduction. My hands more slowly, searchingly, over my hips. Nope. Not mine. Valerie must have been expecting me home a lot earlier, and clearly had plans for the evening. My aching head twinges guiltily, punishingly. I cross the floor and tiptoe through the hallway toward our bedroom, running my fingers through my hair, which is about as clean as my conscience. Peer round the doorframe, then – easy does it – watch out for that creaky floorbo- …shit.
Valerie’s face, framed by her sleek, auburn hair, appears accusingly from beneath the covers. “Where have you been?” she questions, folding her arms.
“I was… I woke up on the-” I splutter, gesturing behind me to the living room which is just visible from my bed.
“Can I get in?”
“That depends on how late you stayed out Madeline, and judging from last night’s attire,” a quick hand thrusts out toward my chest, which bares an oily stain – a badge of honour, “you stumbled in about an hour ago after Jimmy’s closed, ate toast over the sink, thought about vomiting and conked out on the couch.”
My head hangs sheepishly of its own accord. We’ve been together nine months now, and she’s lived with me for three of them – we figured it was pointless to wait and I’d been lonely in this big flat by myself ever since Mark left. Don’t get me wrong, the divorce is quite possibly the best thing I’ve ever done, but that doesn’t make sleeping in a king-size by myself any easier.
“That about sums it up. Thanks for filling the holes in for me.”
“I am nothing if not observant…”
Her voice has been swirled with honey suddenly; her vibrant eyes – showing her age, though not nearly as much as most 42 year olds’ would – met mine. The familiar rush of electricity bolts through my chest and down to my toes as I bridge the gap between us. Our mouths collide, gently at first, until teeth meet flesh; hands meet cheeks; legs meet waist, then:
“Would you mind explaining the pants hanging from the doorknob?”
My eyes snap open.
Valerie’s eyes narrow; her defined jaw clenches, the freckles on her nose are hidden away as it scrunches, the way it usually does when she’s irritated.
“Over there. The doorknob. The pants dangling from it that I have never seen before, which is strange, as I do all of our laundry.”
Shit, I thought they were Val’s. I thought they were Val’s but they clearly aren’t, and she knows I know they aren’t hers and is looking at me and I need to say something.
“I don’t… I can’t remember.”
“You can’t remember. How convenient. I always clean up the living room before we go to bed – you know how much I enjoy waking up to a tidy house. I don’t recall decking the halls for you before going to bed.”
Something she says triggers a memory that hurtles through my brain and suddenly, I am 15 years old and I am in high school and I am sitting at the guidance counsellor’s desk as she asks me when I last saw Laura. Vomit rises in my throat and I turn to run, feeling Valerie’s face shift from anger to confusion to concern in the three seconds it takes me to reach the en-suite and regurgitate whiskey sodas against the sparkling porcelain.
“Are you alright?”
I glance over my shoulder at her – duvet flung away, eyes wide, half-naked, half poised to cross the room. I motion for her to stay where she is and try to pull myself together. My mouth is dry and full of bile simultaneously, my head is swimming, my heart is pounding.
I come around in bed – having been changed out of my dirty dress and into one of her oversized shirts - as my doting girlfriend offers out a glass of orange juice, holds it up to my lips. My cheeks shrivel as the cold, sour tang takes me by surprise and sends shooting pain down the nerve endings of my sensitive teeth.
“Big night, then? You want to talk about it?” she asks, stroking my hair gently and placing the glass on the bedside table.
“It’s a long story” I reply, resting my head on her shoulder. She isn’t the first woman I’ve ever loved, but she’s the first I think I could be with for the rest of my life.
“We have all day.” She places a kiss on my damp, sweaty forehead, nodding over at the ticking wall clock which proudly declares that it is 5 past 8 in the morning. I hesitate, take a deep breath, and consider my options. I trust her, she trusts me.
“…When I was in secondary school, my best friend Laura Keller was snatched walking home one afternoon. It made national news because it happened in broad daylight and whoever took her left her body in an underpass around the corner two weeks later. They never found out who did it, though. Case went stone cold about as quickly as it opened. Honestly, I didn’t think we’d have this conversation so soon, or at all, really, but…” I taper off, tears threatening, a lump in my throat.
“Fuck…” Valerie exhaled, rubbing her temples, pulling me closer, “I remember that…”
“Yeah, everyone does. I’m still in contact with her parents, they send me a Christmas card every year without fail. They started a charity for missing kids in her honour which keeps them pretty busy. Nobody misses her more than I do…”
Déjà vu. Major déjà vu. Another flash of something from last night jolts across my mind. Val goes to say something but I hold up a finger – rude, I know, but I can’t lose this train of thought. She understands, and her mouth closes.
“I… I had this exact conversation with someone in the bar, I think. I can’t remember who, or why, but I remember getting really upset about something and… there was an argument, I think, and then I left. Did you hear me come in?”
“No, I was out for the count, I took an Ambien because I had a headache from staring at my laptop all day.”
“So you… you wouldn’t have heard if there was anyone else here with me?”
“I definitely didn’t. So you brought someone back?”
“I wouldn’t… Val, please, you know how much I love you.”
“I didn’t mean like that, more a colleague or something. Can you remember?”
I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, searching through the vague, flickering play-by-play of the evening for something of use.
“Mark was there, he bought me a drink, we got into a fight, I got really dizzy and he put me in a taxi.”
“What was the fight about?”
“I really… can’t remember, I just know we were talking about Laura.”
I get up, slowly, despite Valerie’s protests, and walk like Bambi on ice to where the pants dangle from the doorknob. I pick them up with the tips of my fingers and lift them up to the light. I don’t know how I missed it.
“I think I’m going mad…” I whisper, my voice cracking as my legs threaten to buckle. She’s beside me in an instant, guiding me back to the bed.
“Tell me what’s going on, Madeline.”
Her voice is calm, but I can tell that she is, like me, suppressing panic. I feel the pregnant pause envelop us. This is not the hungover Saturday in bed I was expecting. Hot tears spill out before I can stop them.
“These are Laura’s. I’m…I can feel it. I don’t know if you remember, but she was found without her underwear? I don’t know how they got here, I don’t know what happened last night, I don’t know why I was smoking in our living room and I certainly don’t know who was here with me. I think there was something in my drink, but I don’t think Mark put it there. Why would he?”
Valerie is shaking her head bewilderedly, looking at me like I’m crazy. Maybe I am. I have absolutely no idea what the fuck is going on. I can’t remember.
In just a few days’ time, Prince William and his wife Kate are due to have their second child, signalling the latest chapter in their lives together. A new book, called William And Kate’s Britain, traces the memorable moments of their story so far and the special places they hold dear. Here are some of the highlights.
♡ 1. St Andrews, Scotland
They first met when at university, living in the same halls of residence, St Salvator’s Hall (Sallies) — both studying history of art (although William later changed to geography). In their second year, they shared a maisonette in the centre of the East coast town, renting it for £100 each a week with two friends. They walked to lectures and shopped at Safeway. For their final two years, they lived in a £750,000 18th-century farmhouse on the sprawling Strathtyrum estate (owned by a distant cousin of Wills). The Prince installed a champagne fridge and Kate dressed the kitchen windows with red-and-white gingham curtains. They were allowed to shoot birds for food as part of their rental agreement.
♡ 2. Balmoral Estates, Aberdeenshire
It was at the royal estate — described by Queen Victoria as ‘my dear paradise in the Highlands’ — that new royal girlfriend Kate was first spotted dressed in camouflage gear, lying in the heather, being coached by ghillies on how to use a hunting rifle. This was ultimate proof that the girl from a middle-class family in Berkshire was being groomed to be a royal bride.
♡ 3. Witton Country Park, Blackburn, Lancashire
Where Kate made her last public appearance as a single girl — in 2011. Alongside her boyfriend, she visited Witton Country Park (480 acres of picnic spots and nature trails which was used by the Army during both world wars and is now owned by Blackburn and Darwen Council). Lovebirds Wills and Kate were presented with the Lancashire traditional ‘Courting Cake’ — a heart-shaped shortbread cake with their names on the icing.
♡ 4. Bodorgan Estates, Isle of Anglesey
With a private beach and views of Snowdonia, a four-bedroom whitewashed farmhouse on the south-west corner of the island is where they led a simple life in their first years of married life.Renting from landowner Sir George Meyrick for £750 a week, they often went for drives in a battered white Ford Transit van, wearing baseball caps and sunglasses to try to be incognito. William was, though, spotted speeding along country lanes dressed in leathers and hiding behind his helmet on a red-and-white 180mph Ducati motorbike, with Kate occasionally riding pillion.
♡ 5. Llanddwyn Beach, Isle of Anglesey
A favourite spot to exercise their cocker spaniel Lupo. The couple would walk hand in hand along the five-mile stretch of beach (Llanddwyn is named after St Dwynwen, who is the Welsh patron saint of lovers).
♡ 6. Healthbeds, Thurcroft Industrial Estate, Rotherham, South Yorkshire
Where they bought their marital bed — from a firm founded in 1893. The couple had slept in a similar four-poster with a bespoke mattress and made of ‘sumptuous cashmere, silk, cotton and wool fillings’ while living in rented accommodation in Anglesey. Desperate to buy one of their own, they asked their former landlord in North Wales for details and tracked down the 4,200-spring model to the Yorkshire company, which says its beds allow people to ‘enjoy a healthier night’s sleep by combining state-of-the-art technology with traditional craftsmanship’.
♡ 7. Aston Villa Football Club, Villa Park, Trinity Road, Birmingham
After the birth of George, William (who is the President of the Football Association) said he was determined that his son would inherit his love of the team. In a message recorded to mark the FA’s 150th anniversary, the Prince joked: ‘When Villa thrash Man U at Villa Park, my son will be there.’
Fiona Cairns started her pastry-making career by baking a batch of miniature fruit cakes in baked bean cans for friends one Christmas. Twenty-five years later, her team now sells bespoke cakes from £500 (with 20 candles costing just £2.50) and she was invited to create the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge’s wedding cake. The eight-tiered cake, made by a team of chefs in two months, was decorated with 900 sugar-paste flowers. It is believed that William and Kate saved the top three layers for themselves — suggesting we might yet have three royal christenings.
♡ 9. The Sandringham Estate, Norfolk
Kate’s first visit to the Queen’s Norfolk country retreat was for a shooting party in 2002, hosted by Prince William at Wood Farm, a modest cottage, set in a secluded corner of the Sandringham Estate. She was one of six girls and ten boys — including the Prince — crammed into the six-bedroom cottage.
♡ 10. Anmer Hall, Norfolk
The Queen’s wedding present to William and Kate — after a £1.5 million make-over of the late-Georgian property. This involved stripping out a £38,000 kitchen (featuring £17,000 worth of worktops and an £8,630 fridge). Built in 1802, it is one and a half miles from Sandringham House.
♡ 11. The Westleton Crown, Southwold, Suffolk
This 12th-century coaching inn was where they spent the night before their first wedding anniversary. They were among a group staying here for the wedding of two friends. On arrival, they had a glass of champagne with the other guests, who included Kate’s sister Pippa, before retiring to the £165-a-night Swan Room, which had a four-poster bed and a ‘stylish roll-top bath big enough for two’.
♡ 12. Warner Bros Studios, Hertfordshire
A six-months-pregnant Kate, with William and Prince Harry, visited the Warner Bros Studio in 2013 for a tour of the Harry Potter set. They were each given a wand, taught a few spell techniques, and invited to duel (Kate successfully took on her husband). The trio, who were accompanied by 500 guests and children associated with their charities, were shown props from the Batman film The Dark Knight Rises, including the Batmobile and Bat Bike. ‘We should borrow that for the weekend!’ William whispered to Harry.
♡ 13. St Nicholas’ Anglican Church, Rotherfield Greys, Oxfordshire
Camilla’s son, Tom Parker Bowles, married Harpers & Queen fashion journalist Sara Buys at the Grade II-listed church in front of a host of royals — the Prince of Wales, William and Harry — but Kate (who was still only William’s girlfriend at the time in 2005) turned down the invite so as not to divert attention from the wedding couple’s day (pictured right).
14. Cirencester Park Polo Club, Gloucestershire
It was here that William spent his first Father’s Day as a parent, and his son George kicked his first ball in public. Kate took their 11-month-old to watch William and Uncle Harry playing for the Jerudong Trophy (above left) but the toddler did not want to sit still. As soon as Kate put him down, he headed towards a pony and grabbed a polo stick in an attempt to join in the fun. Then he aimed a kick at a ball with his left foot, suggesting that he might, like his father, grandfather and great-grandmother the Queen, be left-handed.
♡ 15. Highgrove House, Tetbury, Gloucestershire
Kate received her first invitation to father-in-law Prince Charles’s country home in 2007 when she was invited to Camilla’s 60th birthday banquet. Other guests included comedians Joan Rivers and Stephen Fry, and actress Judi Dench. After dinner, Kate and William took to the dance floor, where the Prince mouthed the lyrics of the Frank Sinatra song It Had To Be You to his girlfriend.
♡ 16. Westminster Abbey, London
The couple were pronounced man and wife at precisely 11.20am on April 29, 2011, by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Rowan Williams. Twenty minutes earlier, the tension was palpable as Kate emerged from her car in an ivory silk and lace gown designed by Sarah Burton and inspired by the late actress Grace Kelly. According to a lip-reader, William told his bride she looked ‘beautiful’ as she joined him at the altar, before joking to his father-in-law it was all ‘just a small family affair’.
♡ 17. St Mary’s Hospital, Paddington, West London
Prince George became the tenth royal baby to be born at this hospital, which was founded in 1851 from small philanthropic beginnings based on ‘Christian and genteel values’, in an area teeming with sailors and prostitutes. It opened with just 50 beds and was a voluntary hospital for the benefit of the sick poor of North and North-West London. Prince George was delivered at 4.24pm on July 22, 2013, weighing 8lb 6oz. His father William had been born at the same hospital.
18. Kensington Palace, the couple’s London home
This was controversially refurbished at taxpayers’ expense for an estimated £4 million. Extensive work included the construction of a new roof, the overhaul of electrics and the removal of asbestos. Their apartment — which has 22 rooms — was designed by Christopher Wren and was the home of Princess Margaret until her death in 2002.
♡ 19. Holy Trinity Church, Southall
It was two months after the Queen’s Coronation in 1953 that Kate’s maternal grandparents, Ronald and Dorothy Goldsmith, got married here. Ronald was a lorry driver, working for his brother-in-law’s haulage company; Dorothy, who had two matrons of honour and two bridesmaids, was a shop assistant in Dorothy Perkins.
20. The Tower of London
William, Kate and Harry visited the memorial in August last year to commemorate the 100th anniversary of World War I, and they placed one of the 888,246 ceramic poppies, which each represented a fallen soldier.
21. Mahiki night club, Mayfair
A favourite of the couple before they married. William drowned his sorrows here in 2007 after his split (which proved only temporary) from Kate. His group ran up a bar bill of £4,700. William is said to have yelled: ‘I’m free!’, before performing his own version of the robot-dance goal celebration that the then England footballer Peter Crouch had shown him during a World Cup training session.‘Free?’ No. The couple were soon back together.
22. Eton College, Windsor, Berkshire
William’s time at school was marred by the death of his mother in 1997, when he was just 15. But he excelled at sport — he was ‘Keeper’ (in charge) of the swimming team, took up water polo and captained his house football team — was a school prefect and member of the Eton Society (colloquially known as ‘Pop’) and left with three solid A-levels (A in geography, B in history of art and C in biology).The Prince often went for tea with his grandmother, the Queen, over the river at Windsor Castle. As an old boy, William went back to the school in 2006 to play in the Eton Field Game (a cross between rugby and football) after which Kate embraced him and playfully ruffled his prematurely thinning hair.
23. Marlborough College, Wiltshire
Kate was 14 when she went to the renowned public school (current annual boarding fees £33,090) in 1996. Nicknamed ‘Middlebum’, she was known for her ‘goofy’ behaviour and prowess at hockey (below). One schoolmate wrote in the leavers’ yearbook for 2000: ‘Catherine’s perfect looks are renowned, but her obsessions with her t**s are not. She is often found squinting down her top screaming: “They’re growing!” She was rumoured to have had a poster of Prince William on the wall above her bed.
24. Old Boot Inn, Stanford Dingley, Berkshire
A regular haunt of the Middleton family (and Prince William), so much so that the landlord was invited to the royal wedding. The whole village celebrated with a barbecue at the pub in the evening. The current menu includes ‘Prawn Cocktail served with fresh buttered bread’ (£6.50) and, of course, ‘Eton Mess served in a filo pastry basket’ for £5.95.
25. The National Lobster Hatchery, Padstow, Cornwall
‘One lucky little lobster here has been adopted by royalty,’ trumpeted the pioneering marine conservation, research and education charity after Prince Philip had bought a £2.50 Adopt a Lobster certificate for his great-grandson, Prince George, last year. The lad is sent regular updates on the creature’s progress. (x)
|based on the request: Can you do an imagine where Nate wants a baby?|
|1.9k words, ANOTHER NATE IMAGINE LMAO I HAVE IMAGINES FROM ONE HE FELL OFF OF HIS PENNYBOARD TO WRITE OH DEEEAR SORRY IM JUST BUSY, masterlist is in my description as peerr|
(edit: I accidentally made the title w/ Sam’s name bc I’ve posted 4 Sam’s in a row oops I’m sorry I’ve corrected to Nate)
One of my friends has just had a baby and today I’m going to visit her and meet the baby for the first time with my boyfriend, Nate. I dragged him shopping with me to get a gift for the baby and since then, he’s been pointing out pregnant woman in public and audibly ‘awing’ every time he sees a baby.
Nate Maloley has baby fever.
“Are you ready to go, babe?” Nate calls up the stairs. I push the backing of my earring onto the stud and spray some of the perfume Nate gave me over my neck and wrists. “Y/N!”
“I’m comin’!” I yell back, playfully rolling my eyes. “No need to friggin’ yell about it!” I check my outfit over in the mirror once more before leaving the room.
I look down the stairs at my boyfriend, “Well maybe if you hurried ya ass up, I wouldn’t be yellin’!” He tries to keep a straight face but fails, his dimple protruding through his smiley cheeks. “You look great, now let’s go.”
“God, you’re so desperate.”
He raises one eyebrow and stares at me, “Excuse me?”
“You’re literally so desperate to see the damn baby.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“The guys congratulated me on being pregnant.” I deadpan. “They think your newfound baby obsession is because I’m pregnant.”
He can’t stop himself from laughing, throwing his head back in utter shock and amusement. He claps his hands together as he laughs and when he’s done, he wipes under his eyes and let’s out a final sigh.
“Are you serious?” He asks with a smile, finally opening the front door and holding it open for me. I nod in response.
“Sam, John, Jack and Jack were arguing over who would be the best uncle.” It was pretty funny to witness because Sam was getting so worked up about it, I thought he was going to hit someone. “And Johnson then called the guys back in Omaha and a huge argument started… That’s when I told them I wasn’t pregnant.”
Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to let them all argue and ruin their friendships over an imaginary baby, but those boys sure do bring up a lot of dirt about each other.
Nate laughs again, but quietly because we’re outside, and wraps his arm around my shoulder. “So that’s why Sam was so pissed with me.”
We make our way down the 7 flights of stairs, joking and laughing about Nates baby fever and the idea of me being pregnant.
“You think I’m bad on my period? Just imagine me pregnant, babe. It’s like, ten times the amount of hormones than on my period, eating for 2, my stomach will be big, my boobs and ass will be growing, and I’ll be a moody bitch.”
I’m kind of scared of myself as a pregnant woman. My mood swings would be through the roof! We wouldn’t have to baby proof the apartment, it would already be Y/N proofed so I wouldn’t break anything in a hormonal rage.
Damn, if Nate ever knocks me up, be better watch his back.
“I could handle that.” He shrugs, dropping his arm from my shoulder and down to my waist.
“Maybe you could, but the boys would probably steer clear for 9 months.” Especially Sam.
“They’re all the youngest out of their families so they don’t know what it’s like to live with a pregnant woman.”
He’s really putting a lot of effort into what he’s saying, it’s like he planned out this conversation before it happened.
“Nate, you were a kid when your mom was pregnant with Stew.”
“I was still alive!”
“That’s different.” I argue, glancing up at his semi frustrated face. “She was your mom and she was pregnant with your brother. I’m your girlfriend and I’d be pregnant with your baby.”
His disgruntled mouth curls up into a short smile with his dimple poking through. “You’d look adorable pregnant.” His fingers dance along my hip, tucking themselves in the waist of my jeans. “The boys would spoil our kid rotten.”
“Yeah, and he or she would turn into the biggest brat of all time.”
Along with all of the presents from my family and Nates family (especially his mom because it would be her first grand baby), our baby would be a real brat who would expect everything and everything at a click of their finger.
I would honestly beat my kids ass if they were like that.
“Maybe we should have a baby and find out.” He stops walking when we get to his car, standing in front of his designated space.
“Nate, babe, I am not having a baby anytime soon.”
“But baaaaabe,” He whines, staring down at me with a pout. “We’d be the best parents ever.”
I shake my head and turn to face him. I lightly lean against the front of the car and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m 18, Nathan, I’m not going to risk losing the body I worked so hard for, just for it to be ruined and stretched out.”
“I know it’s a pretty weird request but I think we’d be really good parents, babe, and I think I’m ready for a baby.”
“Nate, listen to me okay?” I reach out and cup his jaw in my hands. “I think you need to actually think about what you’re saying right now. Babies are a lot of work! We would have to splash out cash here, there and everywhere and we’d never get any sleep. Neither of us would have any freedom to do what we want, when we want because we would have a kid that needs all of our love and attention 24 hours a day, 7 days a week!
“You’re already stressed out enough with making your music and performing and travelling and you wouldn’t be home that much. I’d be looking after the baby by myself while you’re out there living your dream and that wouldn’t be fair on me or the baby.”
Nate clenches his jaw and looks down at the pavement, dropping his arms from my waist and letting them dangle loosely by his sides. He keeps his eyes hooded and refuses to look at me.
“Nate, are you okay?” I ask quietly and he just shrugs. I sigh in defeat and drop my hands from his jaw. He quickly turns around and makes his way to the drivers side, leaving me standing alone. “I guess not.” I mutter and climb into the passenger seat.“
“What’s his name?” Nate asks my friend, Myleen, as I hold her little baby boy in my arms. She hasn’t told anyone the name yet, only her and her partners family, because she wants to keep it a surprise.
“That’s really unusual,” I comment, continuing to look down at the gorgeous baby boy. “It’s very whimsical.” The name totally suits Myleen’s personality.
“He looks so much like Toby.” Nate says, looking between Myleen and baby Bodhi. “He already has the jawline, doesn’t he?”
“And the hair,” I add. He’s only a few days old and he already has a full head of hair. “He’ll have a beard in no time.”
Myleen rolls her eyes playfully, shaking her head with a little laugh. “Oh god, Victoria, you know, Toby’s mom, said that and now Toby is excited to teach his son how to shave.”
I can already see how much facial hair this baby is going to have by the time he reaches puberty. If he’s anything like his father, he’s going to be Chewbacca by the time he’s 19.
Myleen takes out her phone and snaps a quick picture of us holding her son, telling us that we look like ‘naturals’ holding him. When she says that, I can feel Nates eyes baring into my skin.
“You two look so good with a baby, it’s making my heart clench, when are you two finally gunna have one?”
I look up with a snorty laugh. “Not anytime soon, that’s for sure.”
“Aw, why not?” She whines, pouting slightly. “You both look so cute sitting with him and you’d make amazing adorable babies!” Please, can we not start this again?
Nate throws a hand into the hair in agreement and yells, “That’s what I was telling her!” I lightly hit his side and tell him to quieten down. He just rolls his eyes. “But she doesn’t want to give up her body just yet.”
“Nate, I’m 18, I don’t want to willingly have a baby just yet, I’m not ready for one. I’ve literally just become, what the law says is, an adult and I can’t even drink yet.” I argue out, adjusting the position of my arm to make Bodhi more comfortable. “Why would I want a baby when I haven’t been able to go out and party - legally - with my friends yet?”
I personally think that’s a damn good reason, but I shouldn’t have to argue or reason with anyone about this, it’s my damn body! I don’t want to carry a human inside of me and then push it out and be in pain for hours and hours at the age of 18. It’s not like I don’t want to have kids in the future, because I do, but I just don’t want to be a mom at 18.
Plus, my parents would murder me. And Nate.
“I just- I, we- fucking forget it then.”
In a huff, Nate slides off of the couch, sliding his hands into his pocket and heading towards the door. I just stare at him in disbelief.
“Nate!” He doesn’t bother replying, he just carries on walking with his head down. I carefully hand Bodhi back to his mom and make a rush for my over reactive boyfriend. “Nathan!” I grab onto his shoulder and swing him as best as I can to face me.
He refuses to look at me. I can feel his shoulder twitching under my hand, a small tic of his when he’s angry or upset, so I instantly remove it in hopes of it calming him the slightest bit down.
“Just stop, Y/N!” He yells, throwing his arms in the air. “We clearly want different things so I’m just trying to give you what you want!”
“So you’re just going to rush out and act as if I don’t exist?” He doesn’t answer. “We fucking live together, Nathan, we brought a fucking maisonette together! I think that was a pretty fucking huge step in our relationship!”
“I can always move back in with Sam and Swift, I have options.”
“Yeah, and I fucking don’t. I moved out here, for you. I have no friends out here. I’m skipping college to be here for you and you think breaking up is the best thing to do because I don’t want one thing you think you want?” He takes a step back and reaches for the car handle. “You’re really fucking selfish, Nate. Fine, lets break up and forget about every, single fucking thing I’ve ever done for you that sacrificed my own future.”
I sacrificed my entire life for him. I make every decision based on him and his schedule. I’ve skipped going to get a better education so I can be there, right by his side, to support him and his growing career. And he doesn’t seem to care.
What a fucking asshole.
His jaw clenches, along with his fists, in anger as he stares right at me, “Stop it, Y/N.”
“Stop what? Going through with another one of your decisions because that’s what you want?”
“You’re making me sound selfish.” He mumbles through his teeth.
“Because you fucking are! You’re a fucking asshole, Nate!” His eyes immediately glaze over and he stares at the ground in shame. He can’t even own up to his own mistakes and words. He’s a coward. “Fuck you, Nate Maloley.”