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Dark Folklore & Gothic Horror Short Films - Interview with Lucy Rose

Lucy Rose is an award-winning writer/director for screen and prose/nonfiction writer with an interest in gothic, girlhood, horror, and literary fiction. Her fiction and nonfiction have been published in Dread Central, Mslexia, and more.

Lucy is represented by Cathryn Summerhayes at Curtis Brown (Books)

Other enquiries to hello [@] lucyrosecreative [.] co [.] uk

Listen to the interview here/on your preferred podcast provider (search + follow Eldritch Girl: Weird Stuff and Nonsense) Read the transcript off tumblr here or here

Tip me if you can and you like this interview, it helps keep the podcast going!

Interview Transcript

CMR: Hello! Welcome back to Eldritch Girl! This is really exciting because we’ve got Lucy Rose who is a filmmaker, and we’re going to discuss the indie horror short, She Lives Alone. Lucy, would you like to introduce yourself?

LR: Hello, I am Lucy, I’m a filmmaker based in the northeast and I am the writer-director of She Lives Alone. She Lives Alone was such an amazing fun project to be able to work on. The development process was really fun. I worked really closely with my producer to explore the rural landscape of the place I grew up, which is a place in Cumbria. And I really just kind of wanted to bring a small facet of our Celtic regions and that tiny little culture to the screen and combine that with my love of Gothic horror and ghost stories and all the stories basically that I heard in Cumbria growing up that used to keep me up at night forever.

She Lives Alone has gone to some really cool festivals and it’s gone to some BAFTA and Oscar qualifying festivals, which is really intimidating but very cool. And then it ended its journey by winning best runner under 100 K at the Northeast Arts awards and getting picked up by Alter, which was the most amazing surprize in the whole world, because now it kind of finally gets to see its audience after a virtual festival runs so that’s lovely.

CMR: that’s so exciting I’m really happy, the whole film is about 15 minutes long and it is available on YouTube and so I’m gonna play a little bit of it I’m really excited about, which is kind of at the end, so I mean spoilers, but it is a ghost story, so you can kind of – I mean you can’t see it, you can just hear the audio. But we want to talk a little bit about the folklore behind it and a little bit of what’s going on, so we’re going to start from 11:41 so you get a sense of the music and the dialogue – it’s very much a monologue, isn’t it? A lot of it is a monologue because well… she lives alone.

[Laughter]

LR: Yeah.

CMR: it’s really dark and atmospheric and I think there’s maybe like two other characters in the whole film, which is like you know really cool. Okay, so. Let’s see how this let’s see how this works.

[clip plays from 11mins 46secs in: an adult woman with a low voice and Cumbrian accent is speaking. The line is “Bury you in earth, bury you in mud as thick as bark” over and over in hushed, desperate tones, with the tense score, whistling wind, and metallic clinking. There is a sharp scream and gasps at the end as the music swells ominously.]

CMR: Actually going to pause it there because that’s like a really good bit. I think the coolest image of that is the iron nail through the Bible through her hand which I was seeing as an exorcism ritual or part of an exorcism ritual, and can you tell us a little bit about that element and the little bit of dialogue that she’s got as a kind of mantra that is “Bury you in earth, bury you in mud as thick as bark”?

LR: And so I grew up in like the tiniest, tiniest village like. It may be had like six or seven houses. And it was so remote so if you wanted to go anywhere to like a shop you’re looking at least 25 minutes’ drive, and so the sense of isolation and because of that, like the Community, and what the Community felt like, and how we as people kind of used storytelling as a method within our like our tiny, tiny little culture that again – seven houses – I basically took things that I’d heard in my childhood and sort of morphed them and manifested them into this film.

I used to live by this woman who I will literally remember for the rest of my life, who was very superstitious, an extremely superstitious woman, and she was just the most incredible person and so like unashamedly weird. She was just so in touch with herself, which I think is so difficult in a small community, to be able to just like live your weirdness and like not care what people think of you, because everybody has opinions in those tiny little tight knit groups.

And she used to mess around with all sorts, but she you know she taught me like what ouija boards were and what voodoo dolls were, and she was really, really like spiritual and she often talked about like how connected to the earth and to the planet she felt was like a human, and I’d sometimes visit her after school. And I’d sit in a kitchen, while she was cooking dinner, for I was burned, and she just seeing these like really weird songs that she just made up herself like these little folk tunes. I just pulled phrases and lines and words that she was saying, because she did – she – I think she was just sort of… in hindsight, as a grown woman, I think I see her loneliness now, and how that connection to the earth and to nature was something that really, really kept her from going insane.

And it was a sort of gravity to her and that’s kind of what I wanted to give to Maud was this sense of like you might be without a person or people but you’re not on your own, and you can always rely on different spiritual things to sort of find your centre and in terms of the Bible, the nail going through her hand, I think it’s really metaphorical but I really just wanted to talk about the power that was kind of harnessing her, and the struggle between how her mum was treating her. So, for context, people [listening] if you haven’t seen it,  Maud lives alone that’s the “she” in She Lives Alone. Her mum’s just passed away and she’s basically like in this normal grieving period and she begins to realize that she’s haunted by the spirit of her mother and her mother left her one thing which was the Bible, and it was because the mother always thought she was a wicked girl.

Basically, at the end film she casts out the spirit of her mum by bonding herself to this Bible, like physically binding herself to it, and I think it’s in part a metaphor about… I think in terms of discussing themes like trauma, like that trauma is always going to be a part of you. You can’t separate them, like, they’re together, and that’s horrible, but I don’t think that that’s a bad thing. I think it’s like an acceptance that like it’s just one of the bags you’re carrying with you in your life, and one of the items that you keep with you, and it doesn’t make you an awful person, it’s just something you’ve got in you.

And in a more sort of physical sense like, for me, like one of the staples of rural life is cast iron. You see it everywhere, you see it made making the gates, making the beds, making the keys, the locks, everything.

So I think it’s just bringing that industry and that sense of objects having a space in our community, and it sounds ridiculous, but one of the other things is the red stone and you constantly see some stone in in Cumbria, it’s everywhere you go and all the houses are made out of it.

And everything is red and orange and rust and copper coloured so it’s just one of those things about like bringing the identity of the land and the place and the people, whether that’s the minerals, the materials and the industry and embedding it in the world of the film, so that it feels real and also acknowledging the spirituality of the place so like, the folk song that is in the film…

Acknowledging that however small the culture is, it doesn’t mean it’s not important, and like that folklore, I think is a hugely, hugely important staple of that place and I just really wanted to like bring that to life in this in this film.

I think it works really well like and I also like the detail when she draws, um, so she has the Bible in the palm of your hand and then she draws a diamond on the front of the  Bible around the Cross. Is that from something or is that a detail that organically came about, or is that based in folklore?

LR: And so, one of the things that came from, that sort of like rhombus square shape, is the woman who used to live next to me – again this incredibly spiritual woman who I, like, everything I learned about our tiny culture I learned from this person.

 And, and she used to make these like… they were like twigs that you’d like put into squares and then you put different twines around them.

 You know one day it’d be like fishing twine that she … her husband used to fish a lot, so she’d take some of his fishing twine, and she’d make these little rhombus shapes, I can’t do it like that. [shows me with her fingers in a rhombus shape]

And, and she put little flowers in them and she used to just leave them around house, I was never quite sure what they were, but she always used to call them wishing hexes.

She’d just leave them around and they were to bring good fortune and it was really beautiful, it’s really beautiful.

CMR: Oh that’s really interesting I like that melding of that kind of folk tradition and then Christianity and then like, different spiritualities is that you get kind of melded in a place like that.

LR: And I find that that’s a truth though, isn’t it, I think a lot of people find spirituality and no one person’s version of any faith is the same, and that’s something that’s actually quite beautiful and that’s born of our experiences.

CMR: Yes, and I think it’s a flavour of folk Christianity as well because, like I think it’s become… from outside perspectives I think it’s a very homogenous religion or a very homogenous spirituality and I think a lot of that is due to, you know, perceptions of modern evangelicalism and that kind of thing. But I think you’re right, in different enclaves people still do have their own traditions.

And it’s really – it’s really cool to see that because it’s a period drama as well, this film, so it’s linking back to a kind of earlier age and an earlier kind of expression of Christianity and folk Christianity, but also, I mean, did you have a year that it was set in, or was it just general?

LR: So I imagine it’s set in mid 1850s but, like the year is quite vague.

But I think like one of… actually, speaking of time, one of the really fun aspects of the film is that where it’s based has such an interesting relationship with time. Cumbria, when you look into its background, it’s wild. It’s been constantly fought over, so its identity is like a complete mishmash of different cultures from like Norway to Roman to old Old English, to everything. There’s Germanic in there, and it’s absolutely insane.

And so I think that sense of time, and even though it’s a period drama, one of the things we tried to create was the sense of timelessness to it so it almost exists in its own pocket?

CMR: Yeah.

LR: And that was like really crucial for us because we just wanted… What we kind of imagined when we sat and we thought of as a creative team, we were like maybe this is what it felt like because it was so disconnected and its culture was so constantly changing and evolving and adapting new ideas from like people who came and left or people who conquered and then were defeated and… yeah.

CMR: I think that works really well in the film because you’ve got it centred only on two locations which is her cottage which is miles from anywhere so a friend from the village actually comes to visit her, but you never see the village and you don’t see it through her eyes, you don’t see it through her friends eyes, you don’t see any other people at all. you’re in, and you have a sense that the village is quite a walk away so she has to travel to get in there, however long that takes and it’s just this idea of… there’s no civilization that kind of thing, and even the civilization, that there is it’s obviously not urbanized and it’s obviously like quite far from any kind of urban centre so you’ve already got that kind of thing going on, and the cottage itself is this is where the horror is. That’s the locus of the domestic horror, because the spirit of the mother is haunting her in the house.

And so the other place you see her is just on the moors or you know that ring of standing stones isn’t it that she’s in.

LR: In yeah. The standing stones were actually based on a  real place. We really, really wanted to shoot in the place, but we couldn’t because it’s an active spiritual site and it just wouldn’t be ethical to shoot there.

But the standing stones are based on a real stone circle called Long Meg and her Daughters.

And, which is place I used to visit all the time, and when you go now it’s just the most beautiful place, it’s in the middle of nowhere, there’s like ribbons in the trees, bells, and it’s just stunning, but I mean that sense of isolation is like. I think, with it being a short film, you can, from a boring technical perspective, you can explore those worlds, but I wouldn’t want to do that anyway, like I think it’s I really like just as a personal preference to how I approach things, again, going back to that word like pockets, I really like to capture like small pockets of hidden histories, quiet tragedies that don’t necessarily get written down in the history books, because they’re not deemed important enough to write down.

And when we think about period dramas which we think of like glitzy giant polished glossy manor houses, sweeping romances, like you know, especially with like the massive Bridgerton fad that’s going around at the minute, you don’t think of the real people and the very real lives and consequences and events and you know, there’s hidden pockets of laughter with one person to another and realizing that ‘oh my God that’s my that’s my partner and I’m going to spend my life with them’ or, you know, ‘I hate my sister because she’s the worst person in the world’, but they had to share a bed, because they had no money.

It’s those like really tiny moments that I tried to catch on to because they’re just not explored enough, but I think it really serves horror because horror’s everything we fear as a society.

And I think you know, I think, in some ways, like rural communities, the way that they’re treated within our society is odd. You often hear them referred to as sheep shaggers or whatever, or like farmers, and that comes with the added like a sort of thing of like well they’re not clever enough to have an opinion on this or that, but then on the flip side, though those communities are also beloved for their influence on things like literature, from like every genre you know from you Beatrix Potter to you know, everyone else, so it’s a really – I think that’s sort of push and pull, and those two opposites can create real conflict, which is why it serves horror so well, because you kind of have to address those conflicts within the subtext of whatever you’re making.

Can’t remember where I was going with that. Just monologuing about justice.

[Laughter]

CMR: Yes, but that’s it isn’t it, because you’ve got like – rural communities do have those polarized perspectives, that they either idealized and it’s like this pastoral idyll before urbanization when everything was perfect, or exploited because of the natural minerals you know, so you’ve got things like the South Wales coalfield, which is where I grew up, and there’s huge chunks taken out of the landscape there’s massive scars on the mountains from the quarries.

And then dying communities exist because they were only there for the mines and now there’s no mines and there’s no reason for those communities to exist.

And people are like, well the community just shouldn’t exist, you should all just go somewhere else. Where are they going to go? You know, I get very annoyed about that because, yes, it’s you know, there are communities that exist and they have their own identities, they have their own deep roots in that place and that sense of place both traps them there and anchors them there at the same time.

I think you get that in this film as well, that sense of both entrapment and anchorage comes across in like she won’t leave the cottage because you haven’t got anywhere else to go. Like, that’s all she’s got, she’s not going to… what are you going to do, move to the city? With what money?

LR: You know it’s true it’s I mean everything you’ve just said it like chef’s kiss, by the way, five stars.

I was just like, yes.

I would listen to a podcast just about that, but you’re so right, and I think you know, I was talking about this.

But I think it’s that split thing we have as humans, where our bodies want to be connected to nature but that’s what we want in our bodies, in our bones, in our fibres, but our brains are like … I want capitalism!! So you’re stuck in the middle, like I don’t know where to go, and I’ve already said this, [laughs] the middle ground is Animal Crossing, because you get that like relaxed beautiful countryside, but you’re doing it through capitalism.

[Laughter]

CMR: yeah it’s difficult as well to see it from a 19th century working class perspective which obviously we are so divorced from now that we have to see it through the filters and the lenses that we bring to it, because everyone sees things through the lens of their own culture, whether you think you do or not, right, so it’s a really interesting exercise in just looking at a little bubble, a little bit, like a pocket of time.

And, and what I love about it as well, is that that quiet domestic drama that we haven’t seen, but you start to fill in the gaps for yourself, because a lot of it is the silence and the things that she is not saying, and particularly in the dialogue when her friend comes to visit her, and it’s like Oh, where have you been and she’s like Oh, you know I’ve been here, living my life. Except she hasn’t been, because she’s been stuck in the house on her own, her mum’s dead, and then I think that’s when you get the sense that that space of grief and absence is the time when she’s actually starting to realize how shitty her mother was to her.

When you’re going through it and living it and you don’t have any other options but to stay in your situation, you can’t go anywhere because there’s nowhere to go and you have no means to go anywhere and everyone in the village in a community like that anchors you to that community, because they’re the only people that you know, but also you feel like you have these senses of duty and responsibility to your mother. But that sense, as well, is imposed upon you by other people who think that you do [have a responsibility/duty], right.

[People] that you’ve grown up with, and so you have to answer to everybody in that community based on your choices as well, and she obviously doesn’t want to do that later on.

Not for any bad reason but it’s just she’s like seems like a very introverted kind of character, who doesn’t have that ability potentially to stand up for herself. And you kind of get the impression that’s very much the mother’s fault.

But yeah, and this idea that she’s wicked as the mother is constantly telling her that she’s wicked and then at the end you get that realization of “you always said I was wicked but it wasn’t me it was you”, and the only time she could have said that is when her mother is dead.

LR: I know it’s sad isn’t it.

CMR: Yeah. Just crying here [laughs] like oh my God.

LR: Yeah. It’s like justice but it’s not the justice she deserves. I think. And that’s… which is what makes it horror, and it’s also what makes it true, right, like it’s so sad, and I think it’s – do you know, one of the things I always talk about this, but I think it’s so, so true and I think if we all just looked at this and acknowledged it, it would really change the way we think about how we express ourselves as humans.

I think, obviously, as a culture, as a society, as a civilization, we’ve picked up bits and pieces of our history and we’ve those are the bits that survived that’s what we are now, and I think the bedrock of what we’re doing at the minute is extremely Victorian, which is why I call it a Gothic piece, even though it’s not got the big manor house and, like, the two orphaned children.

But I think that’s why I call it a Gothic piece, because I think in terms of what it’s trying to say about us as humans now, like we are most directly linked to that time where Capitalism became everything, like mass production, science, medicine, industrialism, all of these new things that started changing the way we experience the world.

Things that kickstarted technology to a new level, things that opened the door to expression, conversation, like newspapers were selling more, books were selling more, people were experiencing new perspectives whether they liked those or disliked them, you know, and I think it’s that thing of expression, like now, when you put a parallel to that.

And you talked about like how quiet she was how she never said says what she thinks, and I think, you know, like especially like we didn’t make that film in lockdown. That was a pre COVID film, it was written years before COVID and it is just by chance that, like, everything that we experience when it comes to human expression was just absolutely amplified during the COVID lockdowns. So like, when we look at how we communicate our lives, especially on things like social media, I know it sounds corny, but we never say what we really think.

I think, you know, when people are getting… even when people appear to be saying what they think when they’re being reactionary on Twitter or getting triggered by an opinion and saying something because they just need to get the anger out, like I think they’re not saying what they actually think because they’re reacting to something that’s triggering them and they’re not talking about the trigger. They’re talking about why they’re angry about the thing that they’ve been triggered by.

And likewise, on the other side of that spectrum we’ve got like you know people who thrived in lockdown: I’m doing this, I’m doing this wellness masterclass, but really we were all struggling you know, and I think that’s what Maud’s experiences is just that, like, a journey of learning to express herself, learning to get the words out, the real words, the ones she’s actually thinking and not just what she’s been told is acceptable to put out there and to let out of her mouth, and you know, I think that that really links to the Gothic because it’s all about you know repressed desire, whether that desire is for like a person or expression, you know.

CMR: Yeah definitely and I think…Yeah there’s so much, I mean that there’s that kind of sense of Gothic isolation as well, like we talked a lot about that and also like the… I guess the fracturing of your identity and the rediscovery of your identity, which Maud kind of goes through on this really short journey, but it’s a very intense journey that we kind of go on with her and you’ve got that sense of that really intense time of grief and coming to terms with, not just the death of her mother, but also grieving for potentially the person that she could have been.

LR: yeah.

CMR: Which she’s only just coming to terms with, and that’s also kind of like a haunting for Maud as well, that kind of the you know, that the spirit of the mother is what we decide is haunting her and then at the end is like the reveal of the you know the actual spirit itself that you see, just very kind of Woman in Black-esque which I love.

But you also get like this… I love the fact also that she was also in mourning dress, the mother and presumably you know her husband’s dead and that’s why it’s just her and her daughter but you get this dour woman who was sunk in her own grief and that has been haunting Maud also, like her mother’s emotional absence, you know, through her life.

But what’s actually haunting Maud isn’t just the mother.

It’s a lot of things.

And so you get that kind of rejection and you know that that she tries to reject all of that and bind herself to something positive, and cast out that spirit, but it’s not easy to do and I keep coming back to The Babadook in my head because it’s something that you can’t get away from.

LR: Yeah.

CMR: The babadook as a metaphor for grief, you can kind of lock it up somewhere in a room and look at it and kind of acknowledge it’s there and make sure that it doesn’t hurt anyone else, and that you don’t… you know, you don’t lash out and you don’t let it escape and damage or fracture relationships, and you do that by acknowledging its presence and dealing with it in a mature way, and by communicating with other people about it. Otherwise it gets in the way of your relationships. Which, for me, was what that film was about, in particular, between the mother and son [in The Babadook].

Here it’s Maud. Almost as if there’s like a hint at the end that she doesn’t succeed in that, because it almost overpowers her. So I’m going to spoil it a bit, but I think these aren’t spoilers, these are more like reasons for you to watch the film.

[Laughter]

I think if I could explain the whole film and then you wouldn’t want to watch it, like, I don’t understand you.

[Laughter]

So yeah. So there’s a bit… so after she’s sort of nailed her hand to the Bible, the nail then comes out of her hand, and it sort of levitates, and it’s almost like the iron is… it’s almost like a rejection of her or a rejection of what she’s trying to do, that, that bond doesn’t work.

And that’s kind of like, oh is she a which you know, because that sign of cold iron not being compatible with the person of a witch or a fairy or something like that you know you’ve got that kind of link to it, which I thought was really cool, but you also have the mother standing there, the mother’s ghost is in the frame behind her where she can’t see it, but kind of looming over the proceedings, and you’ve got this sense of like what exactly is…[happening]?

Is the mother causing the rejection to happen, and is it the rejection this you know the physical rejection of the nail, but it’s that kind of… that [haunting/grief/trauma] isn’t going to be healed by a ritual.

LR: yeah.

CMR: That whole thing is not going to be healed by a moment in time. Even, no matter how grounded you are to the place you’re in, no matter how well thought out that ritual is, no matter how desperate you are, that is a process that is going to take years and she is always going to be haunted by numerous layers of things that have come out as a result of her relationship with her mother, so, in a sense, her mother is always going to be there, whether her spirit is physically present or not.

And that’s kind of the end of the film, it is very ambiguous and quite chilling, because you get that sense that it’s not – it’s not over, it’s not going to be over and that Maud’s haunting is kind of something she’s going to have to live with – or not – and that’s… that’s the difficulty of living with grief isn’t it, that for me that was very kind of relatable and very powerful and I really appreciated the whole tone of it, and I was like oh God yeah that was very upsetting as well, really upsetting to think about.

But I think that’s like you say there’s not a lot of space in a lot of kind of glitzy period dramas that are more about the romance and the upper classes, to look at working class tragedy, and you know, the ordinary people and those pockets of normal domestic drama, and how they deeply impact someone.

LR: For sure. I think more like more biggest tragedy is that it’s… You know, the ghost is never going to go, she’s just going to learn how to live around it, and you did that thing, that’s kind of how that grief and that trauma works, and I think another thing that’s quite sad about these experiences, is that, like, you can look at something ugly, whether that’s an experience or person and it’s really hard to accept that person as a complex human being with their own troubles, because I think one of the hardest things to admit, and it’s something you touched on, actually, is like, when you think about the mother’s character and how she’s in mourning dress, she’s lost her husband, she’s got a lot going on in her mind, and I think one of the things that Maud can look at is the fact that, like it doesn’t make it okay, and it doesn’t make it acceptable what this woman has done to her, but like pain recycles into pain so often. It’s horrible and I wish it didn’t do that, but it does, it punches down and it punches down, and it keeps going, and keeps going, until someone strong enough to go, Nope, not anymore, and it’s so hard.

Whether Maud does that remains to be seen at the moment because I think it’s that’s another journey. Just looking at it is the first step isn’t it, and then dealing with it in in all its complexity, in everything that it carries with it that’s like a whole other beast like it’s just so much.

But I think you know, like in terms of like the working class aspect like one of the things that just became so apparent to me when I was doing my family tree. So I grew up in Cumbria, but my family are all from Yorkshire and I realized, none of us really had left Yorkshire since the 1500s, that’s what I discovered, and we’d always been in like areas like Sheffield and Huddersfield.

Well, I think what’s so sad is when you look at some of the family trees on like all of these research websites, they have photographs, they have items, they have diary entries they have pieces of those people.

And I still think I’m lucky, a lot of people don’t have names, but I just have a list of names. I don’t have church records, I have a couple of sentences that I found.

And I just think that’s so awful that like, we’ve deemed that some people are worthy of being remembered, some people are not, I just find that like horrifying and that’s, you know, like, oh God.

CMR: yeah I taught a family history course a while back, and it was it’s really hard when you’ve got like very limited things to go on.

And one of those things is the access, which people I think take for granted now and don’t realize, but the accessibility of things like photographs.

You had to save up for those and maybe there was only one you know one shop in the town that was like three towns over so that’s a whole day of it and you have to take that day off work and you can’t take days off work because that’s not how it works.

If you’re running a farm you can’t just go off.

LR: yeah.

CMR: You know, never mind about the cows today, love, we’re having our photograph taken like.

LR: You can’t just book in some holiday.

CMR: yeah so it’s like it’s a very… It becomes a very lower middle class – aspiring middle class – kind of thing, but a very middle class kind of thing to have a photograph taken.

But also at least in Wales, you had to pay for a church service but you didn’t have to pay to have your relationship blessed on the church steps. So there was a lot of… so you won’t have parish records of those blessings for the relationship, because those relationships were not technically legally “marriage”.

LR: Wow.

CMR: So in Wales like I know somebody was doing his family tree, he’s retired and he was doing it as a thing you know, and he realized, he was the first legitimate child in about 200 years.

LR: Oh my gosh, that’s insane.

CMR: And the reason was that it was just too expensive for people to get married so they would that they used to do a thing, where they would take take on the name, Mrs., the epithet and say that they were Mrs Jones. But they never legally changed it and they never legally had the marriage certificate to prove that. They just had, you know, they just moved in with their partner took on Mrs as an epithet and then had the children and the children will have the husband’s name and everyone just worked around it as if they were married, and that that’s a lot more common than people think. It was, you know, a lot more widespread, especially if you were poor. And that’s why it’s really hard to find a lot of the records, but also just the accessibility of things like weddings, things like, you know, things that would leave that indelible mark.

LR: You know it’s honestly insane to me like I think it’s it’s just I think that’s where a lot of load my characters come from even like I don’t have any family called Maud, but I look at a name on a piece of paper, and all I have is letters, and I’m like, who are you? What did you look like? Was your hair brown like mine, did you have the same sense of humour as me? Like, just trying to really untangle something that you have no information on, and I think it’s just that…it’s just that thing of, like, there are so many humans on this planet, many like millions millions millions, and you know, and just trying to find a way to like honour every life, even if it was small, and I think… God what you’ve said blown my mind.

CMR: I’m not sure how prevalent it was in England or different parts of England, but um yeah that’s certainly the case in a particular area of Wales anyway.

[Takes a breath to get back on track!]

CMR: I wanted to talk about the aesthetic of it as well because you’ve got this it opens with that and see and see if it opens with her on her knees on the moors digging earth up. You use such a lot of muted colours and muted tones is that, like,  was that a conscious decision from the standpoint of we want this to be Gothic and we want, we want it to look like this, or was that something organic or how did that kind of work out for you?

LR: And so I work super, super closely with my DP [Director of Photography], Lizzie Gilholme, she was amazing, I think she’s the best cinematographer in the world, I might be a little bit biased, but I do I think she’s incredible and so a lot of the time you give a script to a DP quite late on, but I literally from the conception of the very idea before it’s written down I WhatsApp Lizzie, and I’m like “Hey, I’ve got this idea, I want to know what you think”.

So she’s there from day dot and she, bless her, like she shouldn’t have to, she reads so many drafts and she really does see a project folder from like you know, bare bones to like the fully fleshed form that it ends up in.

And, but me and Lizzie like we talked for a really long time about how we wanted this film to look we watched loads and loads of different movies that we really loved.

But I think the main, in terms of like creating an aesthetic, building a world, like our main thing was like we want this to feel like it felt for Maud so.

The muted colours and the sort of like the mauves and the browns and the muted greens, like those are all colours she would have experienced and those are the colours of her world.

And even down to like how much light we use so this film it’s very dark like extremely dark and you’ve really got to watch what’s going on, but it’s because they didn’t have that much light. If you got up in the middle of the night you’d go to the embers of the fire, you’d light a single candle, and that’s all you had to see in the house, especially if you didn’t have gas lamps, so we really wanted to bring that sense of her world and her, her everyday experiences, in terms of what she saw what she felt.

Even the music, that was like… The woman I worked with was called Die Hexen who is an incredible Irish composer just has the most beautiful mind, and it was super important for me to go to find somebody who lived in a Celtic region, because obviously, Cornwall through Wales up through Ireland and then like at the top strip of England and Scotland, like those are the Celtic regions, and like I don’t want that piece of that culture to be lost on the film, so it’s really important to me, to find somebody from those regions.

Die was, you know, luckily she was like I really like this project, and I want to work with you and I was like, amazing, and the first thing I said to her was,  I wasn’t super particular in terms of what I wanted. I didn’t send her any music I liked I was just like, this is what you need to know about this film. And I said it’s about trauma and I really want that to be present in the score.

But, most importantly, one of the main sounds that you hear in Cumbria is the sound of the Helm Wind, which is a specific type of wind crafted by the shape of the valleys.

And it’s this really high pitch whistle, but it is so strong it can like literally pull the roofs off of houses, it’s just fierce. And I just said to her that I want that, like I want that sense of like, it’s, it’s flowing past you, and you just have to keep yourself standing up.

And, and I mean she came back with the most incredible score that I’ve ever heard in my life, and I literally think I heard one note, and that was it, and then we were done, and I don’t – I don’t think that happens.

But um, you know there’s some – even in the quiet moments where like the score isn’t central to the scene, you hear that whistle. And that’s something that’s all the way through, and it is just that sense of creating Maud’s world.

I love the Gothic, and folklore, and I’m obviously influenced by those things, but it just so happens that they were central to Maud’s day-to-day existence, and that’s why it came through in those creative choices, because she demanded it to be that way, and I couldn’t say no.

CMR: I think it really works I love it, I think the music is so good, it really adds to the drama of it and also like it’s just got that right balance. It’s creepy but it’s yeah and that whistle tone-!

LR: It’s chilling.

CMR: Yeah, it is chilling yeah, it very much… yes, that sense of isolation and nature and just being buffeted and existing in this kind of world that she – because she’s very much on the cusp of that industrial world in the mid 1800s but also she’s embedded in the past as well, and like where you get that sense of the Standing Stones scene and the wild moors and that kind of thing, that she’s trapped by the past of the landscape as much as by her own past, as much as by her family’s history, and yeah I think that and the music just works so well with it and the colours and the, the, you know, just that sense of darkness.

LR: very dark very, very dark.

[Laughter]

CMR: I really loved it and I would recommend everyone watch it and I’m gonna put the link in the transcript so everyone can see it, I might actually embed it in the blog post so everyone can watch it.

Do you have anything that you want to plug while you’re here or any other projects that you’ve already made that you want to tell people about go for it.

LR: So I’m currently in post production my next film, which is definitely more identifiably Gothic with the big house, the big spooky house, creepy hallways and I’m really, really excited by it, it’s kind of honestly I’ve been working on this short film script for years so it’s really nice to see it actually exist and we’re really, really excited about it, where we’re on we’re really, really, I think we’re really close to picture lock it now, but my producer will slap me on the wrist for saying that.

It’s looking so, so good, we’re so fucking proud of it and and everybody who worked on it just worked so hard so I just they are, they are the best. Thank you if you’re listening to this.

But other than that, we’re developing our feature film as well, which is very …

CMR: [gasps and claps]

LR: I know and it’s somewhere between like She Lives Alone and, like the sort of more Gothic leaning “Taste”, which is the film that’s in post-production, so it’s kind of like a nice little lovechild between those two which I’m really, really excited about and it’s also based off a local folklore called the Croglin Vampire.

CMR: Oh, my God.

LR: I know, I’m really excited, so if anyone’s listening, please manifest like crazy, so that we can make it.

CMR: Is there a kickstarter any kind of… can anyone contribute or?

LR: No…

CMR: You’re doing it via grants and things right?

LR: Hopefully, yeah so. We’ve just finished a talent lab called Edinburgh Talent Lab Connects, which was a year long program with an amazing woman called Kate Leys, and also we got a mentor who was incredible.

And we’re hoping to move from treatment stage to draft stage next and it’s quite a slow process because with larger projects it just takes so much longer to really refine the story, but I think you’ll really like it, I hope you like it.

[Laughter]

CMR: I’m pretty sure that I will like it.

[Laughter]

LR: But other than that I’m just vibing you know, and manifesting like hell.

CMR: I think that’s enough though isn’t it. Like pre production and then a feature film is a hell of a lot of work.

Yeah I’m so happy I’m so excited for that. I can’t wait. So everyone watch the space. Go follow Lucy on Twitter.

LR: Please do, I post hilarious memes.

CMR: Yeah.

LR: Oh thank you so much for having me on, I’ve genuinely loved this conversation.

CMR: Feel free to come back anytime.

LR: I’ll be knocking on your door.

CMR: Obviously excited to watch the films that you’ve got coming out. Just really, really thrilled for you, so yeah lots of manifestation.

CMR: And that’s all we’ve got time for, so thank you very much for listening and we will see you again next week bye now.

LR: Bye!

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The Princess and The Duke - Chapter Nine

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: As the Princess of  Spain, you were always supposed to marry King James of   England to make an alliance between Spain and England. When he marries a woman at his court for love, you are married off to his best friend, Sirius Black the Duke of Bedford to keep the alliance. However, the court is riddled  with secrets and a rebel in the North starts to rise against the Throne. Royal AU.

Warnings: fluff, angst

Words: 2618

A/N: I’m going to start adding more angst, so be prepared, because the next chapter is going to be heavy!! Hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged, I love you all! xxx

Chapter Nine - Duty and Love

It was one of those crisp winter mornings in England, though the pale blue sky had been broken up by fluffy white clouds that held the promise of rain for the late afternoon. The thought did nothing to cheer you up. You and your husband decided to make the most of the beautiful weather and the rare chance to have breakfast together. Lily was spending time with James for the early hours of the morning.

It seemed the further along you got with your pregnancy, the less that she wanted to see you. But, you knew it wasn’t her fault, she wasn’t doing it to be malicious, and she had come to be your friend after your time in England. Sophia had also joined you for breakfast, she was looking much better recently, the glow had come back to her cheeks and there was that sparkle back in her eyes. It was such a joy for you to see.

Sirius’ squire, Johnathan had also joined you, he’d been a poor man who had swelled above his family’s station, and it was obvious that he liked Sophia. The admiration in his eyes was clear every time he looked at her.

You rested your cheek against Sirius’ firm chest as you looked over the veranda at the gardens. From here, you could see the twisting maze and beyond, there was your favourite reading nook, in the summer it had been nestled away by the sweet smelling bushes of lavender. It was so beautiful in the winter, everything encased and enchanted by a layer of snow, you had hardly seen snow before coming to England, and it had to be your favourite thing.

Sirius pressed a warm kiss to your cheek and you turned back to smile at him as he rested his hand on the swell of your stomach, “are you well, my love?” he murmured lovingly into your ear, just like he did when you were alone at night.

“Yes, I’m very well,” you beamed at him, you wanted to be gentle with his feelings, the both of you had a bit of a falling out this morning, it was over something silly. You’d been grumpy and he’d been argumentative. But, now you felt completely awful.

“Would you like a lemon tart, Lady Sophia?” Johnathan asked and offered her the plate.

You practically watched her face turn green as she clapped a hand over her mouth and ran out of the room. Sirius and Johnathan looked at you with shock marring their features. You sighed and got up from your seat, “I’ll go and see if she’s okay,” you kissed the top of Sirius’ head as you went after your friend.

You found her in her chambers, vomiting into a chamber pot, you sighed and stroked her hair, only speaking when she was finished, “what’s the matter?” you asked her gently as she wiped her mouth with a handkerchief.

Sophia groaned as she rested her head against the cold wall, “Your Highness,” she hesitated, heaving out a sigh, “I’m pregnant.”

You felt a jolt go straight to your heart at Sophia’s confession and you felt your mouth drop open as you stood there in shock. A child was an amazing gift, but what where the circumstances? Finally, you found your voice, “but Sophia, you’ve always been…” you trailed off.

Sophia’s voice was thick as she turned to face you with tears running down her rosy cheeks, “I know! I’ve always been smart enough not to play around with men; I didn’t even have my first kiss until we came to England. I wanted to save myself for marriage, but I,” she hesitated as she bit her lip, “I was so upset about Remus, and the man was so nice,” she sobbed and you pulled her into your arms.

“Oh, Sophia, it’s going to be okay.”

“Please don’t tell anyone, especially not the Queen,” she sniffled into your shoulder and you frowned.

Surely telling Lily would be the best course of action for her, “why not? She’ll be able to arrange a marriage between you and this man,” you couldn’t bring yourself to ask her who it was; “I know that you wanted to marry for love but he was kind wasn’t he? It’s easy to love a kind man,” you rubbed her back soothingly.

Sophia hiccupped before she pulled away from you and wiped her eyes, “he was kind and handsome,” she laughed a little, “but I can’t marry him.”

You frowned as you glanced at your friend and she had a guilty look on her face and it hit you all at once, “is he already married?” at your question, Sophia’s face crumpled and she let out a little sob.

You were angry, she knew better than this; she had to think of her reputation, and yours. But, right now the last thing that you wanted to do was make her feel worse. Instead, you cupped her cheeks, wiping away her tears, “we’ll figure this out together.”

Sophia sniffled and gave you a weak smile, “thank you, Your Highness, and I’m so sorry, you’re pregnant too. I shouldn’t be giving you this type of stress.”

You shook your head as you bit your lip, “it’s no stress, but if Lily discovers it herself then I won’t lie for you,” you tried to say it as kindly as you could. You now had to think of your family, you couldn’t lose your place with the Queen.

“I understand,” Sophia muttered, though she looked scared.

You comforted your friend until it was time to attend to your duties, when you made ready to leave; Sophia reluctantly got to her feet and followed you out of the room. You assured Sirius and Johnathan that all was well before making your way to the Queen. Lily was in the parlour and as soon as you entered the room, you found that it was so warm from the roaring fire and you had to stop yourself from fainting.

You pulled yourself together and as gracefully as you could, you glided over to the Queen who looked up from her sewing. She beamed at you and you felt a sudden pang of guilt at the fact that you were concealing Sophia’s condition from her.

“Oh, Y/N! It’s good to see you, both of you,” she smiled at Sophia before looking back over at you as she pulled you into a sweet smelling hug.

“Your Majesty,” you smiled as she pulled away and held your hands.

“You’re my dearest friend Y/N, so I want to give you a day off once a week, I know you’ve still got a few months to go but you’ve been working so hard.”

You nodded a flush dusting along your cheeks, “I have been rather tired of late.”

Lily laughed sweetly and smiled at you kindly as she rested a warm hand against your stomach, gazing at it longingly, “there’s no reason to strain yourself Y/N, this is your child and I want to make sure you and it are completely healthy. I still need to sew your child’s baptism gown.”

At once, your eyes filled with tears at her sheer kindness and not for the first time, you were so glad that she wasn’t born into royalty, “thank you, Your Majesty,” you smiled as your voice broke.

“You’re welcome,” Lily pressed a kiss to your cheek, “now, go and be with your husband.”

You sank into a deep curtsey as you departed from the parlour. You loved working with the Queen, she was simply a joy to be around but you were glad that you could spend time with Sirius. It was in your chambers that you found the love of your life, lounging on your bed, reading a book.

As you walked in, he looked up with a raised eyebrow and grinned when he realised it was you and he opened his arms out to you, “have you been given the day off too?” the corners of his pink lips lifted in a teasing smile.

You nodded as you gave him a lingering kiss as you climbed into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, protectively resting his big hands on your stomach; you loved it when he did that. You gazed up at him with a grin and giggled when he kissed the tip of your nose.

“So, what was wrong with Sophia? You didn’t say much earlier.”

You let out a sigh as you shrugged, pushing away the guilt as much as you could, “it must be a bug or something. I’m not entirely sure but she’s okay,” Sirius hummed out a response as he gently combed his fingers through your hair, closing his eyes, “tell me and our child a tale, Sirius.”

With his eyes still closed he smiled, “once upon a time, there was a beautiful Princess who was beloved by all. She was supposed to marry a King, she’d been promised to him since birth but something went wrong and she had to marry a dragon,” you felt him smile against your shoulder, “the Knights of the realm told her that the dragon was fearsome. The Princess wasn’t scared though, she was kind to the dragon and with each day that went by, the dragon fell more in love with her. On their wedding day, his new wife kissed him and he knew that he truly loved her. His love for her turned him back into a man.”

You giggled and looked at him, kissing his cheek, “the Princess knew that the Knights lied to her when they told her that the dragon was fearsome. He was the sweetest of creatures and it was only a matter of time before she fell in love with him too. To tell you the truth, the Princess didn’t want to marry the King, she was perfectly happy with her dragon.”

Sirius grinned at you with tears sparkling in his beautiful eyes and a slow smile spread across his handsome face, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too Sirius,” you muttered breathlessly as you captured his lips in a sweet kiss.

---------------------------------

The noise in the warm council chamber was too loud as everyone talked over each other; it was beginning to give Sirius a headache. He groaned quietly to himself as he massaged his temples. There was a rumour going around that it was in fact rebels in Cumbria, led by a man who called himself Lord Voldemort. What worried Sirius was the fact that he hadn’t heard from Regulus in a while and Sirius hoped that all was well.

Lucius Malfoy was looking determined as he leaned forwards, shouting the loudest, “Cumbria is calling for you to give up the throne, Your Majesty! We must sort this out ourselves since Regulus Black has been no help at all,” he glared at Sirius who only scowled in return.

James looked furious as he fixed Malfoy with a long stare, “who backs these rebels in Cumbria?”

Malfoy had the grace to bow his head and mutter, “Scotland, if you don’t give up the throne then they’ll declare war. I kept this information as contained as I could,” everyone fell silent and nervously looked at the King.

Sirius finally spoke up, “nobody knows who this Lord Voldemort is, we can’t go running off to war when we don’t know our enemy,” he thought of Y/N, he didn’t want to leave her without a husband and their child without a father.

James shook his head as he considered Sirius’ words, “people are dying now, we can’t afford to be idle,” he lowered his voice so only Sirius could hear him, “though, I loathe agreeing with Malfoy,” Sirius snickered and smirked.

“They say Lord Voldemort is a ghost,” Frank Longbottom started, “that he uses magic to meet his evil ends.”

Sirius swore beneath his breath as he raked a hand through his hair in frustration, magic was outlawed in England – and most of Europe – the penalty for using it was death. Only a fool would use magic to get back.

“How about we offer the Scots a marriage?” Malfoy asked, “if we can ally through marriage then they can crush the rebels in Cumbria, even they will honour an arrangement. What about your wife’s lady from Spain, the Lady Sophia?” he asked Sirius and Remus cut in before Sirius could reply.

Remus spoke through clenched teeth as his eyes flashed in anger, it was clear he still had feelings for Sophia, “we’re not handing Sophia to Scotland, her father is an extremely wealthy man. We need her dowry in England.”

James shook his head, “Remus is right, the only chance now is war. We need to use our men from France.”

As the Lords filed out of the council chambers, Sirius stomach curdled with nerves in preparation for what he had to tell his wife. James’ voice stopped him as he got to the door, “I’m sorry, my friend. I know Y/N is pregnant and you want to be there for her and your child. But we will not die, I promise you that.”

All that Sirius could muster was a small shaky smile as he walked out of the council chambers and onto the snow kissed grounds. He found Y/N looking across the frozen lake that sparkled like diamonds beneath the watery sunlight. He decided to break the tension as he stood to her side and took her cold hands in his, pressing a kiss to them.

“As children, James, Remus, Peter and I used to skate on this lake. I think that’s why I love winter so much,” he laughed but it sounded fake.

Y/N looked up at him and he saw with a jolt that her eyes were red like she’d been crying. She couldn’t know, not yet. Sirius’ heart started beating wildly, was something wrong with their baby?

“I know Sirius, Malfoy came walking out here, raving to another Lord about the fact that they have to go to war with Scotland. It would be silly of me to assume that you’re not going to,” she sniffled.

Sirius stroked her cheek and pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair as he felt her wrap her arms around him tightly, “I’m sorry.”

“You promised,” she mumbled, “you promised that you would always be there, I can’t take it if you die.”

Sirius felt his eyes well up with tears, the last thing he ever wanted to do was leave her but he had to do his duty, “this is war Y/N, I don’t have a choice. If I could be by your side every day for the rest of my life then I would be. I’m not going to die, I promise. I’ll be right back for you.”

“When do you leave?” she asked as she looked up at him and Sirius bit his lip as he pressed his lips against her forehead.

“The end of the week.”

Y/N choked out a sob as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, “you had better come back to me Sirius,” she held onto him tightly as if she was scared to let him go, “you had better come back to meet our child. I’ll never forgive you if you die Sirius.”

Sirius let out a little laugh at her passionate attitude, “I will be back, because I would walk through hell to be back at your side. I promise that I’ll come back to you and I will meet our child. I’ll be back,” he cupped her cheeks and pulled her into a passionate kiss that was full of longing and the promise of tomorrow.

---------------------------------

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[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

June

Summary: Young Tommy Shelby journeys to the Appleby fair with his family. There he meets a green-eyed girl and happens to lose his virginity as a result.

//Holy moly did not expect this to get so long. 

             Ada whined the whole way to Cumbria. She was hot in the wagon, she wanted to stretch her legs, there were mosquitos biting her ankles, John was pulling her hair and kicking her. Since the trip took a couple of days, Tommy was about ready to wring his sister’s neck. Fortunately, they made it to the fair without much incident.

            Arthur and Tommy weren’t meant to keep watch over John and Ada. Their mother was pregnant and the trip was exhausting enough for her. But she didn’t want to break tradition and not go.

            Still, being seventeen, Tommy wasn’t keen on babysitting his younger siblings. Especially since they’d been nothing but a pain. And there was excitement in the air. The warmth of summer was just starting to bloom in the June afternoons.

            Once the vardo was parked among the rest that had gathered for the Appleby fair, Tommy itched to distance himself from his family. Just for a moment. He wanted to experience freedom as a young man, see distant cousins, appreciate the horses, and just enjoy the summer day. Being with his siblings was just miserable.

            “Tom, take her for water.” Arthur Sr. finished undoing the harness of their mare and tossed the lead to his son.

            It was a ticket to Tommy’s escape so he gratefully took the lead and left their camp before Ada or John joined him.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            On the way to the river, Tommy noticed Brandy had mud covering her legs, with flecks all up her shoulder and girth. It was shameful to have such a filthy horse at such a large fair. So Tommy decided to prolong his time away from his family.

            He paused by the river where other Romani and Travelers were already mingling. He removed his boots and rolled up his pants to his knees. Just tall enough, Tommy grabbed a bit of Brandy’s mane and hoisted himself up onto her back. He clicked his tongue and nudged her with his heels to walk on. He rode along the river until he found a shallow enough place to walk Brandy in.

            Nearby a group of girls was gathering water and washing clothes. One of them spotted Tommy on the beautiful white mare. As he got closer, he could hear them start to whisper giddily to one another.

            He glanced over to see them all catching sly peeks at him. One of the young women stood out. She was knelt by the river, had dark hair down to her waist that another girl was in the process of braiding. Her eyes were an earthy green and sparkled in the sun. She smiled at him and Tommy felt his heart skip a couple of beats.

            There was nothing like the attention of a pretty woman to drive up the confidence of a Shelby boy. And based on experience, Tommy knew there was nothing more a young gypsy woman loved more than a man who could handle a horse.

            So, he tipped his cap at her, causing the gaggle of girls to stifle squeals. The green-eyed girl’s face flushed pink.

            Tommy clucked his tongue again to get Brandy to step into the river to wash her off. But the mare wouldn’t budge. She lowered her head to sniff at the water but started to turn away. He urged her on again, a bit more firmly. Brandy was stubborn as could be but fairly docile. She balked at most things but after some persuasion would listen. But the mare wasn’t having any of it. The energy of the fairgrounds, with all the horses and people milling about, was enough to make her kick-off.

            So, when Tommy squeezed his legs again and tapped her rump with the end of the lead, she threw her head down and stepped forward, dumping him right into the river.

            After depositing her rider into the water, Brandy turned and went to graze a few feet away.

            Tommy was stunned as he dragged himself out of the shallow water, completely soaking wet.

            The group of girls were giggling but the green-eyed girl glared at them sternly. She got up and hiked up her skirt to wade into the water. “Are you okay?”

            “Yeah, fine.” Tommy hoped his face wasn’t turning red but it sure was burning up.

            She bent down to fish his cap out of the water as it floated by. “Here.” She handed it to him with a sympathetic smile. “Would you like a blanket to dry off?” She offered.

            “No, that’s alright.” He was eager to run off with the last bits of his dignity and never let the girl see him again.

            “I’m Maura.” She thwarted his plan of slinking off.

            “Tommy.” He pushed his wet hair off his forehead.

            “Your horse is beautiful.”

            God, he wished he could just vanish. But at the same time, he didn’t want her to stop smiling at him in the way she was. “She is, and apparently she wants to stay dirty.” He shook his head and looked to the mare who was still idly grazing and still covered in mud.

            Maura laughed softly. “Are you sure you don’t want a blanket? Our vardos very close.”

            Tommy decided he couldn’t be humiliated any further so he nodded as he was wringing out his hat. “Sure.” He sloshed his way out of the river and grabbed his boots and Brandy’s lead. They followed Maura to a wagon painted gold, blue and green.

            Some younger children lingered by the wagon as Maura grabbed a blanket. She gave it to Tommy with a smile.

            “Thank you.” He wrapped it around his shoulder and used it to try and dry his hair a bit.

            “Is the rest of your family here?” She wondered curiously.

            “Yeah, they’re at the vardo.”

            Maura smiled. “Oh, well, I won’t keep you from them. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

            With some of his pride recovering, Tommy shrugged. “Don’t mind the time away from them. The trip up here was a fucking nightmare.”

            She laughed and nodded. “I know that all too well. I’m the oldest so I get that.”

            “Second oldest.”

            “Well…” Maura’s eyes went to her feet and she chewed on her lower lip. “Maybe we can avoid our families together?”

            Tommy was stunned he was getting a second chance with her. He was sure he’d be the laughing stock of the fair. Now she was looking at him hopefully. “Yeah, yeah okay.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            They walked together through the fairgrounds, making an effort to avoid the vicinity of their respective vardos or any family that would notice them. The land got more crowded as families arrived and set up camp, so Tommy and Maura walked further out into the fields and forest areas. They talked albeit a bit shyly at first. Maura apologized for her friends and cousins for laughing at him when he fell.

            “Wasn’t nice of ‘em.”

            Tommy just gave a half-smile. “It probably looked funny.” He admitted.

            “Well, any good rider knows that falling off is just a part of life.”

            He glanced over at her in a bit of awe. She probably didn’t know it, but just on that alone made him fall a bit more for her. “I agree.”

            When they were far enough away from the grounds, Tommy let Brandy graze freely in a small glade they’d come across. He leaned up against a tree and lit up a cigarette. After a drag or two, he offered it to Maura who accepted.

            They passed the cigarette back and forth, relaxing and chatting about mutual friends they might have, horses, and where they lived.

            When the cigarette was hardly anything left, Tommy stubbed it out on the tree behind him.

            “Your hair’s finally dry.” Maura noticed and leaned in to touch a piece that kept falling into his eyes. There was a pause between them and they locked eyes. She withdrew her hand with an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry, I…”

            Instead of letting her finish, Tommy touched her cheek and searched her face for some sort of confirmation. Her eyes gazed earnestly at him and she subtly licked her lip. Taking a risk, he leaned in and kissed her.

            It was as if she’d been waiting for him to kiss her all day. She had. Mostly because he was so interesting and beautiful to her. She couldn’t help it and now there they were kissing.

            It was hesitant and uncoordinated at first. But once they found a suitable rhythm with one another, their desires only intensified.

            Maura knotted her fingers in Tommy’s hair and parted her lips to deepen the kiss. He felt like he was in a dream and groaned softly. He moved closer to her and pressed her up against the tree they were leaning against.  

            “Have you ever done this before?” She asked as they parted to catch their breaths for a moment.

            “Done what?”

            “Fucked?”

            Tommy swallowed and considered his options. Either he told the truth and didn’t go to hell. Or he lied and didn’t admit to being a virgin. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done nothing before. He had just yet to make that final leap. “I-”

            Maura saw the hesitation in his eyes. “It’s okay if you haven’t. I just didn’t want-ya know if you hadn’t and you were waiting or…”

            “No, I’m not waiting for…I mean…” Tommy’s heart was beating so fast against his chest. Was she offering to help him lose his virginity? God, he was no good with words when he was flustered. So instead, he kissed her again.

            Maura smiled against his lips and ran a hand down his chest. Their kisses became frantic the closer she got to the waist of his trousers. Tommy fumbled with his bracers and let them fall to his hips while Maura undid his pants.

            Christ, Tommy was afraid he was going to have a heart attack. His pulse was far too fast and his stomach was bubbling with need.

            “You can touch me.” She breathed into his ear and he was afraid he was going to lose his mind. Maura guided one of his hands to palm her breast.

            He was gentle, afraid he was being too clumsy with her as he kneaded her chest.

            Maura slipped a hand into his trousers and wrapped her fingers around him lightly.

            Tommy groaned and let his head loll back in pleasure. She grabbed his attention back when she took his hand from her waist to hitch up her skirt and let him explore. He stepped between her legs and glided his fingers up her inner thigh.

            She exhaled faintly and let her head rest back against the bark of the tree. One hand kept stroking him slowly while the other stayed tangled in his hair.

            Tommy pressed kisses to her throat as his fingers met her panties. He just had to let go of his self-doubt and worry that he’d muck it all up. He just had to give in to instinct. So, he tucked his hand into her knickers and very gently began to caress her.

            Another soft moan slipped from her pink lips, giving Tommy the confirmation that he was at least doing something right. So, he kept up the ministrations, trying not to lose his head over her touch.

            Maura tightened her grip on his hair to direct his lips back to hers. She shimmied off her panties and hiked up her skirt before tugging down the waistband of his trousers just a bit more. Following instinct, Tommy got the message loud and clear. He grabbed her thigh and hitched her leg around his waist so he could more easily line himself up to her.

            As he pushed in slowly, his jaw dropped from the feeling. With his forehead pressed against Maura’s, he couldn’t help the sound of longing he uttered.

            “Tommy.” She gasped when he bottomed out.

            He shut his eyes and tested out a slow thrust forward. “F-fuck.” He stammered.

            She grabbed at his hips, goading him on to move a bit faster. When he obliged, she had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out with joy.

            Tommy was sure he wasn’t going to last much longer. With the sounds Maura was making and the feeling of her clench around him he felt already half gone. His thrusts shuddered and he knew if he didn’t pull out, he’d finish in her.

            Maura dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth, drawing out a surprised but pleased moan from the back of his throat. He grabbed her hair and slammed his hand against the tree to make sure he didn’t fall over. His grip tightened as she finished him off so perfectly, he swore he saw stars.

            His knees knocked in a bit while he came down from the high. “Fuck.” He swore with satisfaction dripping from his voice.

            Maura smiled and went to stand up but didn’t make it far. Tommy crouched down and took her face in his hands to kiss her deeply. She was a bit taken by surprise when he laid her back into the long meadow grass. He wasted no time going back up her skirt and slipping two fingers into her warmth.

            She had no time to react with surprise though. He curled his fingers upward and she gasped. Grabbing his wrist, she panted, “Right there!”

            Tommy eagerly listened and dipped down to capture her lips again. She whined and squealed against his lips as she became unraveled in his arms. And when he rubbed his thumb against her clit, she cried out. Her fingers tightened around his bicep through her climax

            He felt her pulse around him a bit before her body relaxed and she let her head fall back into the grass with a sigh. “Holy shit.” She breathed out a giggle of disbelief.

            Tommy rocked back onto his heels, looking down at her, all undone beneath him. “That alright?” He asked, suddenly unsure.

            “Are you fucking kidding me?” She propped herself up with her elbows. “Most men don’t bother after the come. Never had a man take care of me like that before.” She admitted.

            He perked up. “Well…we could do it again sometime.” He ran a hand through his hair and glanced over his shoulder to make sure Brandy hadn't wandered off too far. He'd be dead if he returned to the camp without their mare. 

            She smiled and nodded. “Come and find me tonight.”  

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​

Masterlist 

[ads4services]

6 Tips For Writing Winning Classified Ads

Are you currently running classified ads with little to no response? If so then you may benefit from the advice given in this article. Inside of this article, you will learn some  unique ways to have classified advertising success - even if you're currently running them ineffectively. If you want to stay profitable in business, then you will want to follow the advice given in this article. Here's tip number 1.

1) Write short ads

Classified ads in and of themselves are short but some publications allows you to lengthen the amount of characters in the given advertising space. No matter what the publications say, you will want to stick with short ads. You may want to stick with a 2 or 3 word headline, a body copy of about 50 characters, and a closing that links back to your website or your 1-800 number. You want to stick with everything short so that you can entice your reader enough to take further action. Here's another tip.

2) Don't try to close the sale

Your classified ad should be geared towards generating a free lead, not closing the sale. The fact is, there's simply not enough space to close someone on buying your product - this why you want to lead them to your website or have them call for more information. This is the best way to go about marketing your products and services. Here's another tip for classified advertising success.

3) Use trigger words

Trigger words or key words are words that paint a vivid mental image in your prospect's mind. Some good examples of trigger words are "secrets", "free", "amazing", or even "discover". All of these words make a reader want to learn more and are excellent for captivating a person's imagination.

4) Sound different

You never want to sound like your competitors when advertising your products and services. Be different whenever you can. One thing you will want to be sure to avoid is using industry jargon. These are words that your prospect don't understand and that only your competitors know about. When writing your classified ad, don't write for your competition, write for your prospects.

5) Give something for free

This is the only logical thing that you can do in the space of a classified ad. As mentioned above, never try to sell someone in the tiny space of a classified. Your best bet is to follow the 2-step method of generating a lead and following up on them with more information. The 2-step method will prove to be more effective for you.

6) Have strong body copy

In the body copy of your ad, you want to do whatever you can to increase the perception of the value of your product. Use your body copy to further explain what the user will get from doing business with you. You main goal is to point out exactly what's in it for your prospects - so keep this in mind as you write your ad. All in all, these 6 tips for writing winning classified ads will be effective if you follow them exactly.

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[indignxs]

Feyre basics

► GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Feyre Laurent [pronounced FAY-RUH]

NICKNAME(S): Feyre or Fey

AGE: 668

ZODIAC: Leo

DATE OF BIRTH:  August 19th, 1352

SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S): English as a first language, Chthonic, Purgatic, French, Italian, Spanish, Latin, Ancient Greek, Sanskrit

OCCUPATION: She runs a small apothecary out of her home and offers spells and summonings in exchange for favours

SEXUALITY: Pansexual

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

► APPEARANCE

HEIGHT: 5′8″

BUILD: Slim, but strong

DOMINANT HAND: Right

HAIR COLOUR: Deep brown and thick with unruly waves that she keeps pinned back

EYE COLOUR: Hazel

SCARS: A medium sized scar on stomach inflicted by another warlock during the battle of Corrichie

IDENTIFYING MARKS: Her warlock mark appears in the form of glowing white eyes when her magic is in use

► BACKGROUND

PLACE OF BIRTH: Bordeaux, France

HOMETOWN: London, United Kingdom

CURRENT RESIDENCE: The Lake District, Cumbria, England

FINANCIAL STATUS: Very wealthy, though you wouldn’t know it

EDUCATION LEVEL: Multiple university degrees

LIKES: Reading, tending to her magical garden, not having any responsibilities, being alone, a glass of wine every evening before bed, intimacy

DISLIKES: Liars, taking orders, being spoken down to, greasy food, flashy displays of wealth

► PAST

1352 was not the most eventful year by far; the most notable events were the beginning of the Byzantine civil war, the choosing of the 199th Pope, and the founding of Corpus Christi college. But it did bring with it the birth of a baby girl to Achille and Genevieve Laurent, peasants in the city of Bordeaux, France.

The baby was a small, quiet thing that they named Feyre and she was the pride and joy of the couple who had thought they could not conceive a child. The truth was, Genevieve had in fact been barren. In her desperation she had summoned the Greater Demon Agramon without understanding who or what he really was, with the help of a traveller who claimed she could make Genevieve’s womb fruitful again - for a price. The price, the traveller had said, would be a year of the woman’s life in exchange for the child which Genevieve gladly paid. So great was her need to bear a child that she never stopped to ask the how’s and the why’s of the more than generous offer. 

When Genevieve gave birth nine months later in a long and painful process at the height of summer, she was delighted to welcome tiny Feyre into the world bearing the name of the traveller who had helped bring her into existence. Genevieve was also unaware that the year the traveller had taken from her life would leave her with only days left to live. And so Feyre’s mother passed away in the summer of 1352, leaving behind a week old baby and a grieving husband with no idea how to care for an infant. So consuming was her fathers grief that Feyre was handed over to a washer woman who nursed and cared for her until such a time when her father was able to care for her properly. That time never came. 

It became apparent very early on that there was something different about Feyre, something sinister, though no one could actually put their finger on what it was. She was an unusual child. Too quiet to be normal. There were no physical signs of differences, nothing on her body to indicate that she might be different from the washer woman’s other children, but things happened that were unexplainable from the moment the woman brought the baby into her home. Things would fall from shelves without being touched, candles would blow out without a draft, other children would refuse to go near her without a good reason. There was something wrong, but they could hardly blame a tiny baby for strange happenings without being accused of witchcraft themselves. 

And so Feyre reached the age of four before her warlock mark made an appearance. She had been sitting by the fire watching the woman she called mère cook when the pot had tipped and boiling water rained down on the child. It should have scalded her. It should have killed her. But instead it bounced off of her skin like there was an invisible force around her. Her eyes had rolled back in her head and the whites of her eyes glowed like the moon and tiny, quiet Feyre emerged from the steam unscathed. That was the moment her adoptive family truly began to fear her.

Feyre chose to wipe the memories of her childhood and her teenage years from her memory. There is nothing she remembers from 1357-1377 and she never wants those memories back. 

1377 brought more than just the warlock who helped Feyre wipe her memories. It brought the realisation that she would never age, that she would never grow old while those around her died one by one. It brought knowledge and learning that she had only ever dreamed about. It brought the ship that would take her from France to England to start a new life. It brought change, for better or worse.

Through the years Feyre has seen empires rise and fall, leaders conquer and be conquered, wars won and wars lost. She has participated in a great many battles, advised monarchs and misled sovereigns, fought for rights and fought for herself. Every move she makes is with the next hundred years in mind and because of that, she will always choose the side that will grant her the most grace when the war is over. She hasn’t always been on the right side of history. She wasn’t on the right side in the seventeenth century when in 1872 when the Accords were written and she wasn’t on the right side during the Dark War and the Cold Peace. Feyre’s loyalty is to herself and to her fellow Warlock’s. She will not intervene in a war unless asked to by another Warlock and even then there’s no guarantee she will help them. 

Present day brings with it a new set of challenges and choices. No longer can she move through life anonymously, fading into the background of history like a shadow. Exposure in the Dark War turned her life upside down yet again, but this time she has found herself choosing a simpler life. Once an adviser to kings and queens, war generals and rebel organisations, Feyre now runs a small apothecary from her cottage and offers spells and summonings for the price of a favour. She’s made peace with her need for a quieter existence and no-one is going to spoil that for her. 

[skiphirebarrow-blog]

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[imagineclaireandjamie]

What happened to The Black Watch?

I have the entire plot of TBW plotted out and I’ve even written the end, but the next part was high angst and I just got a little lost with how I wanted to approach it. I doubt that it’ll remain unfinished, I just need to get myself into the right headspace to be able to continue it. So, Anon, I know you’ll get some more soon. But in the meantime, please have some honeymoon The Getaway. Lots of love - MBD.

The Getaway: Honeymoon.

The room itself was massive, a sprawling studio suite with an adjoining bathroom to complement the space. Claire held her breath for just a moment as she watched Jamie carry their small case into the room. Their parents had booked it for them, offering to escort Rupert back home whilst they had an evening to themselves. The hotel was only a short jaunt from Gretna. With a view across the Solway Firth to Cumbria, it was an incredibly beautiful place just a stone’s throw from Dumfries.

The penthouse itself had three massive windows overlooking the river with the bed situated close enough that you could leave the blinds open and watch the water lapping over the rocks as it rolled out to sea.

“What are ye thinking about, Claire?” Jamie asked in a low whisper as he snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“That view,” she sighed, tilting her head to the left as Jamie nuzzled his nose just below her ear and placed one delicate kiss there, “that and the warmth of you curled up behind me. I hope they didn’t spend too much on us-” she began, her hands twinning with Jamie’s as they rocked where they stood.

“Dinna think about that, sassenach. They wanted us to have a nice evening. It doesna matter about anything else, aye?”

“I know.” She said, closing her eyes and leaning her head back as Jamie began to pepper more kisses along her exposed neck. The sun was still shining, the warm rays filtering through the window and across the floor so that her toes were toasty. Shimmying forwards, Claire brought them to stand more fully into it, basking in the glow of Jamie behind her and the heat on her chest as he ran his index finger along the length of her tummy.

“The view is beautiful, Claire,” he cooed lowly, his lips vibrating against her skin as he spoke, “but it isna as beautiful as you.”

“Such a smooth talker,” Claire replied, her voice breathless as she rocked her hips back against him, “do you think lines like that will get you laid?”

“Aye, I do.” He returned, slipping his hands further south, beneath the waistband of Claire’s jeans. “No’ because of that, though, ken? But mainly because you love me and ye married me…” he said, his words becoming more elongated and quiet as his fingers danced fluidly against her damp flesh.

“Oh…j-jesus,” Claire moaned.

In no time at all, Jamie had rid Claire of her jeans, his agile movements ensuring that she was now left standing (just) in only her top.

“Do ye want to go to bed, Claire?” He asked, moving them one step forwards, further into the sunshine and closer to the bed. “I want you,” he said, his fingers maintaining their light, circular motions between her thighs, “badly.”

“I can’t think about much else when you’re touching me like this, Jamie.” She mumbled, writhing her hips against his hand as she spoke.

Reaching around, Claire tried to undo the button on Jamie’s dress trousers, her usually nimble fingers shaking as she tried to unlatch the clasp and failed. After the ceremony had finished, Jamie had loitered with Rupert and their parents as Claire had gotten changed, but he himself had stayed in his wedding attire. That didn’t help Claire as he hormones ran wild. She could see as she turned her head slightly the flash of white, Jamie’s dress shirt, the top button undone from where he had removed his tie. He looked incredibly dapper and she’d only spent a few minutes out of his company during the whole day - but in that time he had changed from the dress down clothes he’d been driving in, to his tux.

“We dinna need to think, aye?” Jamie gasped, his knees almost buckling as Claire, failing to get his trousers off, ran the palm of her hand along the length of him.

“I want to touch you, but I can’t get your bloody clasp undone.” Claire cursed, cupping him gently as she finally managed to undo his zip and slip her hand through to his boxer shorts.

“Christ,” Jamie cursed, twisting Claire before placing her softly against the top of the sheets, “I willna be able to stop myself if ye keep touching my like that, sassenach.” Quickly undoing is trousers, he let them drop along with his boxers as he peeled his shirt off, unfurling the buttons slowly -one by one- as Claire watched longingly.

Licking her lips, Claire quickly pulled her t-shirt off and threw it on the floor, unwilling and unable to miss any of Jamie’s flirtatious striptease. She left her bra on. Since she’d had such trouble getting him naked, the obstinate part of her called out to give him something to fumble with and she smiled as her eyes caught the flex of muscle in his arms as he finally ditched the shirt and stood naked in front of her.

“I feel like yer wearing too many clothes, Claire.” Jamie stated, kneeling at the bottom of the bed before crawling along the length of her. He stopped, his nose hovering just over the base of her stomach as he used his teeth to nip, kiss and caress the soft skin there. “Time for ye to lose the underwear, aye?” He said, his tongue licking a tentative line across the top of her pants as he slipped his fingers under the tight elastic and began to pull them down.

There was a slight stramash as he caught them on Claire’s knees, but it wasn’t long before he had had them off and dumped on the floor with the rest of their abandoned clothes. Kissing her thighs now, Jamie made his way higher until he reached his intended goal. Wrapping his arm underneath her leg, he made sure she seemed comfortable. There was only the slightest rise to her stomach now, more like a sleek arch where their baby grew beneath her skin but he was always careful to ensure that Claire wasn’t restless.

“I love you, Jamie.” Claire whispered, her hand lowering from where it was, beside her head, to rest on his cheek as she stroked his stubbly skin. It was tantalizing, watching him stare up at her, the slight grin on his face as he placed one hesitant kiss at the top of her leg. She glanced down through hooded lids as he closed his eyes and moved himself upwards, his head angling down until his mouth came into contact with her. It was only then that she let her head flop backwards, a loud moan falling from her lips as his tongue began a clever dance across her needy flesh.

Jaggedly, Claire moved her hand from limply lying by her side to take hold of his hand, her nails digging into his skin as she bucked and sighed, her heart picking up pace as Jamie’s agile movements increased.  

Nudging his shoulder with her leg, Claire tried to pull him away from her as the urge to leave him there until he’d tipped her over the edge but she wanted to return the favour. “Jamie, you’re turn. Please.” She begged, thrusting her hips upwards as if to contradict her words. “I want to touch you too.”

Doing as he was bid, Jamie smiled widely as he kissed his way across Claire’s small bump and up towards her still covered breasts.

“This needs to come off too,” he whispered against her skin as one hand skimmed her side and up and underneath her. Plucking the clasp apart in one swift move, the material sprung away from her skin and Claire rolled her eyes as how little effort he had to put in to relieve her of her last piece of clothing.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” She sighed, rolling him onto his back as she straddled his waist.    

“Weel,” Jamie started, “I canna whistle. If that makes ye feel any better…”

“Much,” Claire replied quietly as she dipped her head. Taking Jamie’s nipple in her mouth, she kissed him softly before dragging her teeth gently over his taut skin. She did it to both nipples before kissing down and across his chest and belly. Running her hand over him first, she watched as Jamie’s head lolled to the side. He looked sleepy, but Claire could tell from the breathy moans falling from his lips that he was wide awake.

Recalling their last few nights on holiday, before the baby and their impromptu wedding, Claire slipped her hand between Jamie’s legs, letting the longish hairs tickle her fingers as she took him slowly into her mouth, allowing her tongue to cup him gently. She closed her eyes, savouring his irregular but tame movements as he tried to keep his hips and arse still.

“F-fuck, Claire,” Jamie moaned as she caressed every solid inch of him, his eyes rolling back into his head as he tried to remain lucid enough to stop himself from going too far.

“That’s it,” he cried, his voice high pitched and loud as he launching himself upwards and grabbed Claire’s shoulders as lightly as he was able, “I dinna want to…” he gasped, “no’ in yer mouth, come here, aye?”

Staying on top, Claire crawling back up, pushing Jamie against the pillows as she kissed him slowly. With her legs now resting either side of his, Claire was positioned with her groin hovering over Jamie’s. One thrust downwards and he’d be resting against her.

As their tongues met, slow and tentative and first and then with more passion, Claire did just that, letting Jamie’s cock rest solidly between her legs as she softly wiggled her arse, letting just the tip of him slip inside her. It felt good to have him there, the hard warmth of him guiding her closer and closer as if unconsciously calling to her. She needed him, just as he needed her.

“I love ye, my wife, Mrs Beauchamp-Fraser.” Jamie said quietly, his hands roaming freely up and along Claire’s sides as she rested herself carefully -and fully- against his pelvis and rolled her hips suggestively.

“Love you…too…” Claire gasped as her thrusts increased, the heat in her belly sweeping through every inch of her as she pushed herself closer to Jamie and closer to her own end.

They had agreed on the drive down that she didn’t want to lose the Beauchamp part of her own name simply because she was an only child and she knew the name wouldn’t live on if she decided to solely take Jamie’s name. So, although the baby would have it as an additional middle name as opposed to keeping the double barrelled name she would have, it sounded incredibly hot to hear him say it to her for the first time.

“Let go, mo nighean donn,” Jamie cooed, pulling her closer to his chest as he let her writhe above him, “I k-ken yer close, just…”

As if his words were the magic tipping point, Claire coiled herself closer, her breasts squishing painlessly against Jamie’s chest as she interrupted his speak and thrust herself towards him and came undone almost soundlessly. Gasping for breath, she inhaled and exhaled; large, sharp movements that jerked her hips and made her shoulders shake mercilessly.

Sliding her slowly onto her back, Jamie maintained his own movements, his thighs shuddering with the pressure of turning them both over when he, himself, was so close.

“Come to me, Jamie,” Claire moaned, the words slipping from her lips as she tipped her head to the side and kissed him quite thoroughly, “oh God, please.”

The ache that filled her before was rising again with every thrust of Jamie’s hips and Claire was already succumbing to the pressure of it as she curled her toes and pulled her knees up so that she could wrap her legs around Jamie’s waist, holding him closer as she rocked her hips delicately against his.

“Christ, Claire!” Jamie half yelped as he stopped for just a moment, his nose bumping against Claire’s as they opened their eyes, their gaze held by the other as the light began to dim outside. “Are you?” He asked, seeing desire coarse through her. “Can ye, again?”

Claire shook her head and took his arse in her hands. “Not quickly, no. Just…you now, Jamie!”

Pushing himself upwards, Jamie bent his head to the side and took her nipple in his mouth before sucking gently. He trusted her instincts, but he felt the spark between them, an undeniable link that gave him more confidence in his abilities than usual.

But, in an effort to please Claire, Jamie had overestimated his own abilities and it only took a few minutes and a few more thrusts and he was moaning around her goosebump laden skin and coming undone above her. Holding him against her, Claire kept her legs wrapped tightly around him as he panted and fell across her chest. In his post-orgasmic haze, Jamie nuzzled his nose along the column of Claire’s throat as they both shimmied far enough over one side of the bed to pull the sheets from underneath one another and wrap themselves up in the luxurious cotton.

“Sorry, lass,” Jamie said bashfully as they became cocooned in warmth.

“Hush.” Claire returned taking his hand and placing it over the gentle arch of her stomach as her eyes fluttered closed. “You can’t feel it, Jamie, but our baby is moving. I can feel it.”

“What’s it like, sassenach?” He asked, their voices a hushed whispered as they snuggled up to sleep.

“Like the soft swoop of butterflies wings as they fly by you but don’t actually touch you, if that makes sense? Almost impossible to grasp, but I can feel this...twitch...the tiniest of movements but it’s getting stronger and stronger now.”

“I canna wait to be able to feel it myself.”

“Me either, but I don’t think it’ll be long, Jamie.”

“I hope not. Ye’ve a wee bump now, aye? Verra soon you’ll be visibly pregnant.”

“Then we’ll finally see how many people disapprove.” Claire sighed, swallowing back the hint of panic she’d been holding back.

“Do ye care, Claire? Truly.”

“No.” She replied honestly. “Not really. The only person I worried about telling…” she said, pausing to take a deep breath, “was you.”

“And ye didna have to be, did ye?”

“Well, no,” she sighed happily, “mainly because you’re amazing, Jamie Fraser.”

“So are you, Claire. Yer braver than anyone I know and I canna help but fall more and more in love with you every day.”

[rubbishremovalscumbria]

Simplify Your House Clearance with Rubbish Removals Cumbria

Navigating the complexities of house clearances Cumbria can often feel like a Herculean task. Whether you're preparing to move, downsizing your living space, or simply embarking on a thorough decluttering, the process of sifting through a lifetime of belongings can be daunting. The decision-making around what to keep, donate, or dispose of, coupled with the logistics of removal, can quickly become overwhelming. This is where Rubbish Removals Cumbria comes to the rescue, offering a streamlined and efficient solution to make your life a whole lot easier. Known for their exceptional service and professionalism, Rubbish Removals Cumbria is your trusted partner for all house clearance needs.

Why Rubbish Removals Cumbria Should Be Your First Choice for House Clearances

Professional Expertise and Extensive Experience

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House clearances can encompass a myriad of tasks, ranging from removing bulky furniture and appliances to handling delicate personal items and confidential documents. Rubbish Removals Cumbria offers a holistic service that addresses all these needs. Their team collaborates closely with you to tailor a clearance plan that meets your specific requirements. This bespoke approach ensures that every aspect of the clearance is handled efficiently and in accordance with your preferences, leaving no stone unturned and no item overlooked.

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The House Clearance Process with Rubbish Removals Cumbria: A Step-by-Step Guide

Initial Consultation

The journey with Rubbish Removals Cumbria begins with an initial consultation. This can be arranged over the phone or in person, based on your preference. During this consultation, you’ll discuss the specifics of your clearance needs, including the size of the property and any particular instructions or concerns. This dialogue helps the team prepare effectively and provide you with an accurate quote.

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Once you’ve agreed on the quote and the details, Rubbish Removals Cumbria will work with you to schedule the clearance at a time that suits your convenience. They recognize that house clearances often need to accommodate your existing commitments, so they offer flexible booking options to fit seamlessly into your schedule.

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On the day of the clearance, Rubbish Removals Cumbria’s team will arrive promptly, equipped and ready to tackle the job. They will carefully sort through all items, ensuring that each piece is handled appropriately. Special attention is given to valuable items, sensitive documents, and recyclable materials, all with the aim of making the clearance process as efficient and orderly as possible.

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After the items are removed from your property, Rubbish Removals Cumbria takes care of the disposal and recycling processes. They adhere to local regulations for waste management and strive to divert as much material as possible from landfills. Items that can be recycled or reused are processed accordingly, and donations are made to local charities when appropriate, ensuring that your clearance supports both environmental and community well-being.

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Once the clearance is complete, a final check is conducted to ensure that your property is left in pristine condition. Rubbish Removals Cumbria is dedicated to providing a thorough service, so you can be assured that every aspect of the clearance has been handled to the highest standard.

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House clearances Cumbria are more than just a means of getting rid of unwanted items—they play a vital role in various life transitions. Whether you're preparing a home for sale, managing an estate, or simply refreshing your living space, a professional house clearance service can make a significant difference. Rubbish Removals Cumbria understands the importance of these transitions and is committed to offering a service that is both compassionate and effective.

Conclusion For an efficient, stress-free, and environmentally responsible house clearance, look no further than Rubbish Removals Cumbria. Their team of experts is dedicated to ensuring that your house clearance process is handled with care and professionalism. Offering comprehensive services, transparent pricing, and a commitment to eco-friendly practices, Rubbish Removals Cumbria stands ready to help you tackle your house clearance Cumbria needs with confidence. Reach out to them today to discover how they can assist with your next house clearance project.

[classyfoxdestiny]

Shared love of trains brings Johnson and Biden together

Shared love of trains brings Johnson and Biden together

Boris Johnson paid tribute to Joe Biden’s well-attested love of the railways by choosing a sleek silver Amtrak train to travel between New York and Washington for his first White House visit as prime minister.

The mode of travel was not only a hat-tip to Mr Biden’s decades of rail commuting as senator and vice-president between his Delaware home and the capital, but also a physical reminder of the main purpose of Johnson’s US trip – to drum up support for carbon emission reductions and polluting car use.

He was rewarded for his gesture with a rambling anecdote from the president as the two of them sat down together in the Oval Office.

In comments which bore the hallmark of having been rehearsed many, many times over the years, the president told Mr Johnson how an Amtrak conductor had approached him to say that he and his colleagues had calculated that over the years, he’d covered more than 2 million miles on the route.

As panicky reporters shuddered at the thought that their precious few minutes with the two leaders were about to be swallowed up in their entirety by the older man’s reminiscences, the PM stepped in to steer the conversation back onto matters of policy, telling the president how much he shared his “belief in transport infrastructure”.

The three-hour, 225-mile journey from New York to Washington, snaking through the stunning countryside of coastal Maryland with stops in Philadelphia and Baltimore, was a rare break from the conference room and debating chamber for the prime minister in a three-day trip which has been totally dominated by climate change.

Unlike on previous trips, the deadly serious purpose of his visit prevented Mr Johnson from indulging in the usual photo-opportunities which have seen him don hard hats, try his hand at various sports or dance with local beauties in the hope of a bit of positive publicity.

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21 September 2021

Gabriella Diment prepares a monumental bronze patinated fibreglass wall sculpture depicting household cavalry soldiers on horseback which is expected to be sold for £12,000-18,000 when it goes up for auction at Summers Place Auctions in Billinghurst, Kent

PA

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20 September 2021

Florist Judith Blacklock puts the finishing touches to a floral carousel installation in Halkin Arcade, which she has designed with Neill Strain for the Belgravia in Bloom festival, running from September 20-26, in London

PA

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19 September 2021

Bubbles surround Manchester United’s Cristiano Ronaldo before the match against West Ham at London Stadium

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18 September 2021

Children take part in the Settrington Cup Pedal Car Race as motoring enthusiasts attend the Goodwood Revival, a three-day historic car racing festival in Goodwood, Chichester,

Reuters

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17 September 2021

Hugo, 7, from London rides past a 4×7 metre rainbow arch, made entirely of recycled aluminium cans, which has been installed by recycling initiative ‘Every Can Counts’, in partnership with The City of London Corporation in front of St Paul’s Cathedral in London, to encourage members of the public to recycle their drinks cans ahead of recycling week, which starts on 20 September

PA

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16 September 2021

Sheikeh MOhammed bin Zayed Al Nahyan, leader of Abu Dhabi, leaves Downing Street after meeting with Boris Johnson

PA

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15 September 2021

Children pose by ice sculptures depicting people collecting water by charity Water Aid to show the fragility of water and the threat posed by climate change in London

AFP/Getty

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14 September 2021

Heavy rain covers the A149 near Kings Lynn in Norfolk

PA

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13 September 2021

Luke Jerram’s ‘Museum of the Moon’ at Durham Cathedral

PA

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12 September 2021

Inspirational young fundraiser Tobias Weller crosses the finish line, near his home in Sheffield, as he completes his latest epic feat where he swam and triked his way to the end of his “awesome” year-long Ironman Challenge. This is the third challenge Tobias, who has cerebral palsy and autism, has completed, raising more than £150,000 for his school and Sheffield Children Hospital’s charity

PA

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11 September 2021

British player Emma Raducanu, holds up the US Open championship trophy winning the women’s singles final of the US Open in New York

AP

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10 September 2021

People paddle board during a misty morning in Ullswater, the second largest lake in the Lake District, Cumbria

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9 September 2021

Troops from Wiltshire based 4 Armoured Close Support Battalion Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers during final inspection at Wellington Barracks in London, ahead of providing troops for the Queen’s Guard

PA

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8 September 2021

Workers cross London Bridge during the morning rush hour in London

Reuters

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Mixing it up: Painting it up press view in London

A gallery employee poses for photographers next to a painting entitled “Prairie” by British artist, Louise Giovanelli during the exhibition ‘Mixing it up: Painting it up’ at the Hayward Gallery in London

EPA

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6 September 2021

Traders in the Ring at the London Metal Exchange, in the City of London, after open-outcry trading returned for the first time since March 2020, when the Ring was temporarily closed due to the pandemic

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5 September 2021

People enjoy the warm weather on Sandbanks beach, Poole

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4 September 2021

Demonstrators from Animal Rebellion and Nature Rebellion protest in Trafalgar Square in London.

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3 September 2021

South Africa’s Ntando Mahlangu (centre) wins the Men’s 200 metres T61 Final ahead of second placed Great Britain’s Richard Whitehead at the Tokyo 2020 Paralympic Games

PA

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2 September 2021

A young common seal on the beach at Horsey Gap in Norfolk, as hundreds of pregnant grey seals come ashore ready for the start of the pupping season.

PA

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1 September 2021

Goldfinches fighting over food in a garden in Strensham, Worcestershire

PA

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31 August 2021

Gold Medallist Sarah Storey of Britain celebrates on the podium

Reuters

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30 August 2021

Extinction Rebellion protesters hold a a tea party on Tower Bridge in London

EPA

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29 August 2021

A police office tussles with a demonstrator on Cromwell Road outside the Natural History Museum during a protest by members of Extinction Rebellion in London

PA

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28 August 2021

Members of the British armed forces 16 Air Assault Brigade walk to the air terminal after disembarking a Royal Airforce Voyager aircraft at Brize Norton, Oxfordshire

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27 August 2021

Fabio Quartararo crashes during a MotoGP practice session at the British Grand Prix, Silverstone Circuit

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26 August 2021

An Extinction Rebellion activist holds a placard in a fountain surrounded by police officers, during a protest next to Buckingham Palace in London

Reuters

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25 August 2021

Gold Medallist Great Britain’s cyclist, Sarah Storey, celebrates after winning the Women’s C5 3000m Individual Pursuit Final at the Tokyo 2020 Paralympic Games. It was her 15th Paralympic gold

Reuters

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24 August 2021

A demonstrator dressed as bee during a protest by members of Extinction Rebellion on Whitehall, in central London

PA

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23 August 2021

Former interpreters for the British forces in Afghanistan demonstrate outside the Home Office in central London

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22 August 2021

Police officers form a line in front of the entrance to the Guildhall, London, where protesters have climbed onto a ledge above the entrance during an Extinction Rebellion stage a protest

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21 August 2021

People take part in a demonstration in solidarity with people of Afghanistan, in London

Reuters

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20 August 2021

People zip wire across the sea from Bournemouth pier towards the beach.

PA

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19 August 2021

Supporters of Geronimo the alpaca gather outside Shepherds Close Farm in Wooton Under Edge, Gloucestershire

PA

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18 August 2021

Former Afghan interpreters and veterans hold a demonstration outside Downing Street, calling for support and protection for Afghan interpreters and their families

PA

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17 August 2021

Military personnel board the RAF Airbus A400M at RAF Brize Norton in Oxfordshire, where evacuation flights from Afghanistan have been landing

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16 August 2021

Labour leader Sir Keir Starmer takes part in a minute’s silence at Wolverhampton police station for the victims of the Plymouth mass shooting last week

PA

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15 August 2021

2Storm, a ten-metre tall puppet of a mythical goddess of the sea created by Edinburgh-based visual theatre company Vision Mechanics, makes its way alongside the seafront at North Berwick, East Lothian, during a performance at the Fringe By The Sea festival

PA

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14 August 2021

A woman and two young girls look at floral tributes in Plymouth where six people, including the offender, died of gunshot wounds in a firearms incident

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13 August 2021

Forensic officers in the Keyham area of Plymouth where six people, including the shooter, died of gunshot wounds in a firearms incident on Thursday evening

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12 August 2021

Children ride horses in the River Eden in Appleby, Cumbria, during the annual gathering of travellers for the Appleby Horse Fair

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11 August 2021

Stella Moris (left) reacts after talking to the media outside the High Court in London, following the first hearing in the Julian Assange extradition appeal, n London, following the first hearing in the Julian Assange extradition appeal. The US government has won the latest round in its High Court bid to appeal against the decision not to extradite Julian Assange on espionage charges

PA

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10 August 2021

Students react after they receive their A-Level results at the Ark Academy, in London

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9 August 2021

The final athletes from Great Britain arrive home including Jason Kenny, Laura Kenny and Katie Archibald (front left-right) at Heathrow Airport, London following the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games

PA

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8 August 2021

Great Britain’s Laura Kenny during the closing ceremony of the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games at the Olympic stadium in Japan

PA

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7 August 2021

People from the Glasgow Southside community take part in the Govanhill Carnival, an anti-racist celebration of pride, unity and the contributions immigrants have made to the community in Govanhill, at Queen’s Park, Glasgow

PA

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6 August 2021

Chijindu Ujah of Britain, Zharnel Hughes of Britain, Richard Kilty of Britain and Nethaneel Mitchell-Blake of Britain celebrate winning silver as they pose with Asha Philip of Britain, Imani Lansiquot of Britain, Dina Asher-Smith of Britain and Daryll Neita of Britain after they won bronze in the women’s 4 x 100m relay during Olympic Games Day 14

Getty

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5 August 2021

A protester places flowers on a photograph of an executed man during a demonstration organised by supporters of the National Council of Resistance of Iran (NCRI) to protest against the inauguration of Iran’s new president Ebrahim Raisi in central London

AFP via Getty

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4 August 2021

England’s Joe Root looks on as India’s KL Rahul doesn’t make it to a catch during day one of Cinch First Test match at Trent Bridge, Nottingham

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3 August 2021

Great Britain’s Laura Kenny and Jason Kenny with their silver medals for the Women’s Team Pursuit and Men’s Team Sprint during the Track Cycling at the Izu Velodrome on the eleventh day of the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games in Japan

PA

Instead, his attendance at the United Nations General Assembly has involved an endless sequence of 30-minute bilateral meetings with countries ranging from Ukraine to Colombia, along with a roundtable discussion with countries threatened by the impact of rising temperatures and topped off by a keynote speech on Wednesday in which he will plead with fellow leaders to come up with the emission-cutting pledges he needs to make his COP26 summit in Glasgow a success.

There was palpable relief in the UK contingent when Biden doubled his $5.6bn climate finance and the Chinese promised not to build any more polluting coal-fired power stations abroad (though notably not halting the construction of a plant a week at home). Normally poker-faced COP26 president Alok Sharma could barely suppress a smirk as the news of the American offer seeped out.

Johnson himself has been in ebullient mood, visibly relieved to be freed of the bounds of Covid restrictions and allowed back into the hurly-burly of in-person political life on which he thrives.

Though both he and the president wore black face-masks for their 90-minute chat in the Oval Office, Johnson’s first major international trip since the Biarritz summit of 2019 was characterised by a level of mingling and face-to-face interaction which feels unusual after the era of the Zoom conference.

The fact that in his public comments, Biden effectively sounded the death-knell for Johnson’s long-cherished dream of a UK/US free trade deal, as well as admonishing the PM once more for allowing Brexit to put stability in Ireland at risk, did not appear to have soured the prime minister’s trip.

He presented the president with a signed copy of astronaut Tim Peake’s plea for the protection of the planet Hello, Is This Planet Earth, while Mr Biden gave him a framed photo of their earlier meeting in Cornwall in June and a White House-branded watch

As he departed the White House for dinner with Australian counterpart Scott Morrison, the mood in Johnson’s camp was that he was delighted to be back on the world stage and to have been given reason to hope that his next major appearance – as chair of the Cop gathering – will end in success.

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[respectingthedistance]

Week 2: Training reflections

August 3rd (6am) — Easy 50 mins in my new Brooks. What a happy little plod along the canal this was. To feel that sweet cushioning again was like running on tiny little clouds.

August 4th (5.20 pm) — Intervals. I already have an aversion to intervals and this was a tough session with 10 mins easy, followed by 90 secs fast and 90 seconds jog. Repeat that 10 times, and then 10 minutes cool down.

I’ve been trying really hard to warm up and cool down from all my runs since I started my training plan but as I came in from work I tried not to exclaim too loudly at our soon to be 8 year old son had tipped his brand new 1,500 piece Lego set all over the floor and was rather diligently sorting it all into colour specific bags. So the lounge wasn’t an option for me to do my usual YouTube warmup session.

It had also been a rough day at work. Mentally I wasn’t 100% there for a solo interval session. I also can’t seem to programme my Versa 3 with multi stage interval sessions. Regardless of my mood and tech strife I bunged on a random upbeat Spotify playlist and got it done. My heart rate chart demonstrates I did the job by dropping down to a walking heart rate then zooming into near peak. I appreciate that intervals are meant to be your hardest effort of all the different types of runs and this definitely was. A lot of respect for all my speedy friends which have training that revolves around these types of sessions.

August 6th (7.30am) — Tempo run. 10 mins easy then 2 x 12 minute tempo (with a 3 min jog between) and 10 mins easy to finish.

It was chucking it down. I was meant to be running part of it with a friend at 7am but we decided the rain was too much. However, I didn’t have much option other to get out and get it done, as we were travelling to the Lakes after work to start our week long holiday.

Due to the rain I went out a little fast — I just wanted it done. I’m still working out how best to get an accurate average pace reading on my watch. Perhaps setting laps is best? I just had to trust that my perceived rate of effort (PRE) was higher during those 12 minute tempo sessions. I was kind of proud that I got out there in the rain, even if it meant my running stuff needed to be put into a plastic bag ASAP, thrown into the car boot and washed at my parents’ house later on.

August 8th (9.13am) — 22km long run (DNF)

So we’re in the Lakes now, my parents took the kids across to York on the Saturday morning and I excited about this long run on Sunday (as per the schedule). Now let me be clear: our week in the Lakes was planned before I decided to train for a road marathon. My husband and I love hiking the fells, so the idea of having to find flat road to run in when in the Lakes seemed completely bonkers and blasphemous to this incredible place. The weather forecast for the next seven days featured that staple feature of this landscape, rain. I was stressing on whether to hold off, refreshing the online weather forecast every 30 mins, but in the end thought I just needed it done.

Knowing it would be wise to avoid elevation on these training runs I thought naively that a trip around Buttermere and Crummock Water (a flat lakeside path) would do the trick, and it would be a total bonus that I’d still get all the mountain views. I had assumed rather wrongly that the path around these Lakes would be a flat established path, such as round Derwent Water.

The rain and the wind picked up as soon as we (Adam and I) left the car. The ‘path’ was undulating, rocky, slippy and strewn with large tree roots. I was angry at myself for not googling the exact terrain, and felt as though I could be risking injury very easily by trying to run here. We soldiered on for 5km, the ‘path’ opened up and we were being battered by the wind. Bogs appeared and paths had turned into fast flowing streams. My new Brooks were squelching. I don’t have a fully waterproof fancy running jacket and I was getting cold.

We called it and made our way back to the car with some fast walking and spurts of running where possible. Adam gave me a piggy back at one point when the path was up to past ankle height and he was trying to lift my spirits.

As I said in a previous post, I love a training plan and this was the first time I’d failed. I was beating myself up left, right and centre. On reflection there was fairly humorous parts and we must of looked like prize wet turkeys. The total for our wash out of Lakeside run was 11.5km, it took one hour 34 minutes with the treacherous ‘path’. I desperately wanted to redeem myself the following day but the wind and the rain stayed. My parents (where we’re staying) live in a very rural village in the Cumbria. There’s isn’t event a Post Office or bus stop here. One of the roads out is a main B road and the country lanes aren’t used to accommodating runners, more like heavy farm traffic. I was very disappointed that week two failed to end with a long run.

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