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thenameofsantiagossextape · 2 years ago

Note

I have nothing I can add to this, except that I kept thinking of this clip of Gina Yashere discussing blackface in British comedy when reading this excellent reply:

youtube

About Matt Lucas and Noel Fielding doing blackface, and how they “should have known better” - it was unfortunately still accepted in the early 00’s, not in the way that racism was accepted in the 60s - it wasn’t considered racist. It was basically considered the same as dressing up as “the opposite gender”, or any other type of character costume, and black comedians tended to be fine with it.

I mean thank god it’s not accepted anymore, as it is a disgusting remnant of minstrel shows, but it’s quite unfair to hold it over comedians heads when no, they didn’t know better, everyone was doing it (if there’s one thing you can be sure of when putting on a sketch show from the 90s/00s, it’s that there WILL be at least one unfortunate appearance of blackface).

~ All the best

I'm not even sure how to reply to this because I'm honestly confused as to why you feel like sending this message was a good use of your time. Blackface has always been racist. It was always considered known to be racist by black people. White people who have dismissed that perspective have done so because they didn't like having their ignorance called out, and they did so often while directly ignoring black people's voices. The controversy over blackface goes back well before the early 00s, and I think what you're referring to is the most recent flare up of public discussions over it, or maybe you're just conflating your personal experience of becoming aware of it with the larger cultural history surrounding it.

Here's the thing. "Everyone was doing it in the 90s/00s" is not only not a justification, and not only is not true, it also ignores who got to be on TV at the time and who didn't. "Black comedians tended to be fine with it" is not only an incredibly broad statement that's also not true, but it again ignores who got to be on TV and who didn't. What I'm saying, and I'm going to spell it out because it seems necessary, is that the power dynamics that dictated what entertainment was acceptable was in the hands of white decision makers (mostly male ones at that). There's a difference between black comedians "being fine with it" and those same people knowing that they could lose their careers if they make waves that offend the wrong people in power.

Not to mention that while some black comedians may have chosen to make a statement of being fine with it (such as turning it into a comedy bit), they are not representative of black people as a whole because they are not a monolith. Have you thought about why you can say that black comedians were fine with it? Is it possible it might be because blackface was a cultural topic at the time and they were responding to the conversation around it? Which would imply that there were people who felt it was racist. Wouldn't it then be possible that there were other black comedians who weren't fine with blackface and that might be one of the reasons their careers didn't get to leave enough of an imprint for them to be remembered?

I'm honestly just stunned that you think that it's only in the last few years that black people decided that blackface was racist, instead of realizing that more people feel like they can speak up about it now than did 20 years ago (and that still means that there were people speaking up about it then, only that fewer felt safe doing so).

Here's the other thing, though. The performers who have done blackface, not just in the 90s/00s but going well further back, are showing their racism just by virtue of the choice to, well, do blackface. It's a blatant display of "I have no black friends, at least not ones who feel safe being themselves around me" and "I have no understanding or curiosity about the world outside of my own experience in it" let alone "I have so much social privilege that I am completely oblivious to the power dynamics that allow me to make fun of marginalized people, let alone be aware that others have less social privilege than me." You don't have to be a full blown bigot to do racist things. You just have to be ignorant. Intention doesn't make an act like doing blackface any less racist.

What gets me, though, is that you read that entire absurdly long post I wrote on Bake Off (which I still can't believe anyone read, please Tumblr gods can I have my notes back now) and what you got out of it was, "I must defend the use of blackface! Quick, write OP immediately, they must be told how wrong they are about this one sentence that's an aside in a post that isn't even about this at all!" This is really the hill you want to die on? Defending racism because you think it wasn't considered racism? So what is it in you that got so defensive? What is this need you have to stand up for people whose careers are just fine, and defend them from the consequences of their actions? Because I have bad news for you, a lot of the white people who supported segregation didn't think it was racist, they just thought they were upholding the normal social order. That didn't make them less racist either.

Reading your ask I get the strong sense that you've read a handful of posts, maybe some tweets, on BLM in the last couple of years. So I'll say this without going into a lot of history and details that require proper citation, because I'm still getting over covid and the fatigue was real even before your pedantic and grossly awful hot take showed up in my inbox let alone after I read it: when you can tell me that you know what you're talking about, come back and we can talk. When you can discuss not just blackface, but anti-black racism as informed by the works of Audre Lorde, Zora Neale Hurston, Angela Davis, and James Baldwin come find me.

I have a degree in Media and Cultural Studies and you can bet your ass a chunk of my studies were in race theory so I've not only read more than a handful of tweets, and more than even a handful of essays in a course reader, but entire books, and that's before applying what I learned to media analysis of both black and white authors. I have spent the intervening years continuing to read (feel free to add Roxanne Gay, Reni Eddo-Lodge, and Tah-Nehisi Coates to your reading list) and discuss and write about race and intersectionality, and I will continue to do so because it's a lifelong endeavor and should be for everyone it affects (especially those with privilege). I went to a very liberal and hardcore academic college and looking back, I thought I knew a lot back then when actually I just learned a lot of things that were new to me at the time. I can say, though, that at least I never had enough hubris to assume that my learning was done when I had just begun it.

I don't say this to argue that my degree makes me more informed than anyone else, but to show that I've put in the work and it's clear you haven't because your words are the words of a child. So I don't know what the hell it is that makes you think you can condescend to educate someone you don't even know on TuMbLr but the next time you want to do the same thing, pull your fingers away from the keyboard, go read a book, and think about whether you might have more left to learn than you have to teach.

#racism #noel fielding #matt lucas #gina yashere #Youtube

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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 months ago

Text

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Twenty Six + Epilogue.

Well, besties, here we are at the end of Jade and Adrien's story. Big thanks to those who have stuck with me through it all, I cannot thank you enough for all your love! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four Twenty Five

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 5,157

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

No morning in Manhattan was ever quiet, New York truly being the city that never slept. One part of it was especially noisy, though, one bedroom in particular filled with the helpless moans and wails of a woman near out of her mind with pleasure.

His cock sank in and out of the velvet wet of her cunt with slow, yet firm thrusts, his chest sliding against her back, her leg hooked under his arm as Jade saw in seven in the morning lying on her side, being fucked very thoroughly. There had been moments in her pregnancy where she’d swung between wanting to be on him all the time, and unable to bear being touched at all due to discomfort. Now, in the final days of it, all she wanted were sex and food.

Being well laid and well fed were her number one priorities. Her husband had her covered on both counts.

“Oh my god, oh fuck, that feels incredible!” she virtually growled, feeling his fingers massage in gentle rotation at her clit, his mouth hot in each kiss he peppered against her neck. It sparked golden through her, tingled her veins until they glowed alight, a ceaseless wave of pleasure that continued to lap over her until the crest finally rose, broke her shore and fell again. It left her shaking and fluttering around him as he filled her with cum, teeth gently crushing a bite on her shoulder with a soft groan.

They dozed for a little while before getting up, taking a shower in turn before Jade went to order breakfast, wanting to hide in the warmth since December had brought with it a very bitter winter to Manhattan. Apparently, back at their house upstate they were already under a few feet of snow, the flurries in the city beginning to intensify more.

While she loved their apartment, she did miss Stone Barn Castle, all of her animals, too. To be close to her chosen hospital ready to give birth, though, it meant a change of location for a couple of weeks. Little baby Brody had actually been due two days before, but was making his arrival into the world on his own terms, it seemed.

Yes, they were parents to a boy, as they’d found out shortly after returning from Europe four and a half months ago. Maximus Patrick Steven Brody, as he was named, was definitely very comfortable where he was. His mother was not so content with that. So much so that she rarely left the apartment, her only visits being to see her doctor, and one coffee (herbal tea for her) date she’d been talked into by her good friend, Tony. Mr. Bourdain had greeted her with his usual comedy, standing to hug her and exclaim, ‘hey fatso!’, which had her laughing so hard, she’d nearly peed her pants.

Apart from the discomfort, she loved being pregnant, not suffering much in the way of emotional outbursts any longer, but definitely still tickled beyond her control by anything comic. Case in point, sitting contentedly in the lounge after they’d eaten, Jade propped by many cushions and a heat pillow on her sore lower back, crying with laughter at a comedy special by British standup comedian named Gina Yashere. Jade had a natural gravitation to her fellow mouthy Londoners.

“I swear, if you pee on the couch,” Adrien warned lightly, his stomach hurting at both the comedy stylings of Ms. Yashere and the utter hysterics of his wife, tears streaming down her face. “I love you, but not enough to clean up a piss puddle.”

“I'm fine, it’s only a risk when he’s wedged his head on my bladder,” she gasped, falling apart again, holding her hand to her stomach as her laughter turned to a slight groan. “Oooh, ouch.”

Eyebrows were raised. “General big belly discomfort, or do we finally have lift off?”

“I don’t know, but that felt like a twinge,” she revealed, rubbing the swell of her bump, the slight discomfort passing fairly quickly. “I’m still hungry.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. She’d just demolished a cheese omelette with four eggs, two slices of toast, hash browns and a side of steamed vegetables. He’d never seen her have an appetite like it, bar on the rare occasions she’d been stoned in the past. “Pickle chips?”

Her eyes lit up. “There’s some left?”

“I might have hidden a secret stash to prevent you from wailing when there’s none left,” he winked, getting up off the couch.

“How very dare!” she shouted after him, just about able to reach and smack him on the butt, “I do not wail!”

“Lies,” he called from the hallway, rooting around for the bag of Lays dill pickle chips he’d hidden in there in a box she wasn’t likely to go nosing in. “You’re a little snap dragon and you know it.”

She supposed he had her there. Although emotional outbursts were few and far between, she did become a little panicked over the smallest of things. Case in point, her favourite chips not being in plentiful supply.

“But I’m an adorable snap dragon,” she beamed, doing her best comic cutie voice.

Leaning to her after passing the chips, he nuzzled her, kissing her forehead. “You got that right, Moo.” After demolishing most of the contents, she began to grow tired, Adrien taking the bag from her hand and wrapping her in a blanket, leaving her a note atop her bump to say he’d gone to the gym. Her afternoon naps sometimes lasted for anything up to three hours, so he had time to kill.

True to form, he was there and back, showered and changed before she’d even woken up, Jade stretching as she yawned. “You’re in different clothes.”

“Went to the gym,” he explained, stroking her thigh. “How was your nap?”

“More like a small coma.” Her statement had him snort laughing as she shifted a little, rubbing beneath her bump. “I still feel a bit uncomfortable, not like usual discomfort either. Lots of pressure. I can’t be in labour, though. It’d be worse than this.”

His shoulders dropped, letting out a small breath. Reaching for him, she smiled, stroking his cheek with her thumb. As her due date had neared, she’d noticed it, the fact he’d seemed nervous about the impending birth.

Most might say he had nothing to fear from it, him not the one having to go through something so physically horrific as childbirth, but Jade knew him too well. That was exactly why he was nervous; knowing that she had to endure something so painful, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to take that away or make it better for her. He just had to sit there and spectate the love of his life as she went through the worst pain she’d likely ever be in.

“It’ll be okay, you know,” she assured him, pulling him near to plant a kiss upon his lips. “Well, it’ll be hell and probably hurt more than I can even imagine, but just as long as you don’t pass out on me.”

He had a thing about blood. “Yeah, I’ll be fine just as long as I don’t see anything south of your waist. I’ve no desire to watch him coming out. I’ll throw up or keel over. Plus, I really can’t deal with seeing the physical manifestation of you being in so much pain, but trust me, I will be right by your side the entire time.”

“I understand, don’t worry. You were bad enough when Katie cut her hand open on the kitchen knife at that party a while back. Damn, Bug. You went so pale!” Laughing at the memory, she felt her abdomen tighten significantly, grimacing. “I think this might be it, you know. This feels like what I’ve learned to expect from a contraction.”

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, stroking the swell of her bump.

“Not right now. Just being here is good enough, and holding my hand when I inevitably start panicking a bit,” she chuckled, shuffling to lean into his embrace. “It’ll be a while, too. First labours are always lengthy, as we were told.”

Despite her vouch that she’d likely begin to panic eventually, Adrien had to marvel at her composure. And her natural knack to find comedy in any situation.

“It’s odd, though. You and the blood thing, because you have no qualms about sex when I’ve got my period,” she mused, making him snort laugh.

“Yeah, but that’s in the shower. Self-cleaning system,” he pointed out, grinning a little. “Plus you’re always so damned horny, if I didn’t nail you, you’d yell at me.”

“Me? Yell?” she began, comically aghast. “You must have me confused with somebody else.” Wincing a little more, the tightness began to subside, Jade getting up with his help and having a little walk around. She’d read that it could help to stay gentle active, assisting in the baby moving down into the pelvis. It also made her sore back much more manageable.

A few hours passed with little in the way of her discomfort becoming more frequent, even venturing out for a little fresh air and a tea at her favourite coffee shop in the West Village before slowly heading home.

“Oh, fucking bloody blimey!” she exclaimed, resting a hand to her side as she chopped up salad vegetables to accompany the chicken they were having for dinner.. “Okay, that was way sharper than the rest.” Looking at her watch, a gorgeous Van Cleef timepiece she’d received from Adrien for her birthday that year, she breathed deeply, counting how long it lasted for. Twenty-eight seconds from start to finish, and her elevated pains had begun roughly nine hours ago. Things were progressing, albeit slowly, but she definitely thought this was the early onset of her labour.

“Want me to help you back to the couch?” Adrien asked, flipping over the chicken breasts he was frying in the pan before him.

“Nah, Bug. I’m good for now. Here, crack some of this onto the chicken. Always makes it taste better,” she spoke, handing him the truffle salt. Returning to her salad prep, she got that done and plated up, the dishwasher loaded and dinner ate before she felt the pain return, grumbling as she held Adrien’s hand and breathed deeply.

“How is it now?”

Muttering a few cusses, she leaned forward, soothed as he rubbed her lower back. “I feel like I have a little horse trying to exit my spine, and my stomach is really tight. Not bad other than that, though.” Not able to get comfortable on the couch, she went for a shower, feeling fresher, the heat working nicely for her pain as well. A few more hours passed, lying on her side with a heat pillow beneath her bump and Adrien’s warmth curled around her, unable to do much more than doze as her contractions steadily worsened in severity, but came no more frequently than every twenty minutes or so.

Upon waking at 7am, Adrien saw his wife sitting up, stroking her bump as she focused on her laptop screen, watching Grey’s Anatomy since there was no TV present in the bedroom.

“How long have you been awake?” he asked as she removed an ear bud, turning to him.

“About an hour, but I didn’t sleep well prior, as you know.” He did indeed, surprised she’d slept at all, given her discomfort.

Kissing her arm, he rubbed her belly, moving his head just beneath where the laptop was perched to kiss the swell. “Hey, you in there. Hurry this along, boy. Your mom isn’t happy, and we kinda really wanna meet you now, too.”

She loved it whenever he talked to the baby, Jade smiling as she stroked his hair, her hand then gently flapping as she hissed, checking her watch. “Well, you must be fucking magical. Ouch, shit, ow, ow, ow!” she began, taking deep breaths. “That one was exactly fourteen minutes after the last, so it’s starting to speed up.” After almost twenty-four hours, she was glad of it, but the worsening pain was not welcome, even if the onset of her actually getting to meet her son was.

After getting up, she showered and dressed with his help, her contractions gradually progressing to every ten minutes by midday, and then every five by late afternoon. This equalled time for them to travel to hospital. Once comfortable in her private room, checked out by a nurse before meeting Brielle, the midwife who would be delivering their baby. While the nurse had a much more stoic manner, Brielle was a complete breath of fresh air.

“This is so, so surreal for me,” she explained, sitting on the side of the bed. “I love your music and now I get to deliver your baby!” The look of pure joy made a very uncomfortable Jade laugh, feeling reassured.

Her own doctor who had overseen her pregnancy and been scheduled to deliver the baby was unfortunately unavailable after he’d become injured in a car accident, a dislocated shoulder and broken clavicle preventing him from being there. His replacement was an absolute delight, though. Professional without being too formal. “Okay so you’re five centimetres dilated, which is to be expected at this time. You could be in for a long wait on active labour, but I’ll keep coming in to check on you, as will the nurse.”

In that tedious waiting time, they managed to find their own entertainment, counteracting their mutual mounting nerves.

“You have to try this!” she spoke, giggling after taking another breath of the gas and air, handing it to Adrien. He duly accepted.

“Woah!” Another huff was taken. “Damn, that’s good! That’s stronger than when you get nitrous at the dentist!”

“Isn’t it?” she giggled, stroking his face. “And now you look high as fuck rather than freaked out. It’s a win, baby.”

His phone began to ring in his pocket, Adrien groaning. “Oh god, it’s your mom. I can’t do this while I’m high!” His widened eyes had her cracking up. “Help me!"

Those words only made her hysterics worse. “Put her on speaker, we’ll muddle through.”

“Adrien! How are you? How’s my buba?” Gemma chirped, the man himself snorting with laughter.

“He can’t talk right now, mum. He’s high as hell,” Jade laughed, watching her husband rest his head down on the side of the bed while holding his phone aloft.

“He’s what?” the voice on the other end of the line boomed. “He’s about to become a father! This is no time for recreational nonsense!”

“It’s gas and air, mommy,” Jade hissed, her own head spinning, “I told him to take a huff and now he’s all whacked out.”

The disparaging sigh was audible. “You two are thirty-eight and forty-three years old. You should know better than this!”

“Yeah, but what are you gonna do?” Adrien spoke, emerging once his laughter had subsided, feeling a little less woozy.

An unimpressed snort sounded from his phone. “Don’t make me come down there.”

“She will, too,” his wife spoke, grimacing. “Mommy, give me a minute. Contraction.” Grabbing Adrien’s free hand, she squeezed hard, growling softly. God, they were like someone was locking her entire midsection in a vice and tightening it fully. Some wincing, a few more huffs of the gas and she was able to speak, Adrien leaving her to it for a few minutes while he went to fetch a soda.

“Oh, it’s so bloody boring, mum,” Jade lamented, her head spinning a little. “It’s apparently progressing as it should be, but it still feels slow. I’ve been here for four hours and haven’t dilated any further!”

Gemma knew her eldest’s patience would wear thin fast. “I found a book helped, something I could get lost in and try and forget about the boredom and the pain,” she began, tidying up the lounge while she spoke. “I just finished a really good one by Zadie Smith if you want me to send daddy with it? He’s just taking a nap before going back in for his next surgery, but said he’d leave early so he can visit with you before he starts.”

She agreed to it, although between the pain, fear and the gas, Jade didn’t know how much she’d be up for immersing herself in literature, if she was honest. Her mother always gave excellent advice, though, and she was prepared to at least give it a try, especially since it very much appeared that her son wouldn’t be arriving anytime soon.

“Max, you’re making your mama very, very uncomfortable,” she spoke to her bump, stroking it while breathing her way through a contraction. “Ugh! This is torture!”

“Well, if it counts for anything, I think you’re doing really well.” Adrien spoke, stroking her arm as he stretched his legs out. She was right, though. Apart from the excitement that their precious son was on his way into the world, awaiting that arrival was very tedious. Another few hours passed, and she was still no closer to active labour, but in the kind of pain that really began freaking her out. And him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go down the epidural route?” Brielle asked, after checking her over and confirming she was getting closer, now seven centimetres dilated.

Jade grimaced, weighing it all up. “I do and I don’t. I’m bloody terrified of needles, and the thought of one going into my spine really spooks me,” she revealed, the midwife nodding with understanding. She wouldn’t be the first labouring woman to be put off by such, or the last. “I know I had piercings, but still, the piercer has had to hide the needle from me every single time so I haven’t freaked out. Ahh, shit. I don’t know. I really don’t.”

Brielle could sympathise. Although she’d given many epidurals over her tenure in the profession, she knew that she herself wouldn’t relish in receiving it. “Well, from a medical standpoint I can say that if you feel you’re able to endure it, it would help of course with the anxiety you’re going through with the pain starting to really take a hold. However, you’ve mentioned that your back discomfort it getting worse, and I was going to suggest you perhaps consider kneeling for the active labour as this helps ease the pressure. With an epidural that wouldn’t be possible. It can also sometime prolong the active labour, too, since you’ll be completely numb and unable to use your muscles as normal to push.”

She looked thoughtful for a few moments. “Think I’ll continue as I am.” Turning to Adrien, she stroked his face. “If I start cussing you out and telling you I’m never going to have sex with you again, just ignore me. You know me and pain don’t mix well.”

He shook his head, taking her hand and kissing it. “Yell as much as you need to, baby love. If it makes you feel better, I can take it.”

“You say this now.” Her widened eyes made him laugh, Brielle leaving them to it.

He kissed her hand again, stroking her fingers. “I mean it, too. Ain’t me who’s gotta go through it, Moo. I’m fully expecting a tirade. And a broken hand.” He’d had words with himself, while she’d lay there agonising over her epidural. It wasn’t about him, or his own fears borne of an inability to make it better for her, what she was facing. Not panicking, being his usual calming influence was all he had to do.

So, he did.

In the end, Jade didn’t cuss him out, or tell him she was never having sex with him again, but god, how she screamed his eardrums to near perforation. Again. He didn’t give a damn either, that he was almost deaf in his right ear as he sat upon the edge of the bed with her kneeling behind him, her arms clutched tight around his shoulders as she squeezed his hands. He didn’t care that he felt like his knuckles were about to dislocate from the force of her grip.

The only thing that mattered was her as for the hour of active labour, she did something that earned his respect a thousand times over, hiding his fear from her entirely as she showed more bravery and courage than he’d ever witnessed. Finally, at 2:04am, her efforts were paid off in the sound of their son’s cries filling the room.

Two had become three.

Epilogue

Serenity. It hadn’t been a word Adrien would have expected to use, but the energy within their apartment was exactly that. At two days old, Max was of course making his presence known, but the baby was soothed very easily when he fussed. He would be placated at his mother’s breast, or lying contentedly upon his father’s chest, his cries ceasing once they’d understood what it was he was communicating that he wanted.

His hold me, I’m hungry, or I just filled my diaper wails all sounded slightly different. The first was accompanied by a lot of disgruntled snuffling, the second was all out, tiny person rage, and the third more of a grumbled cry than the full-on dramatics of the former. At five in the morning on his second day at home, the noise coming from his crib was definitely hunger, Jade rising to pick him up and carry him back to the warmth of their bed, settling on her side to feed him as he lay between her and his daddy.

“I know I’m biased, but he’s so cute,” Adrien spoke, turning to stroke Max’s little puffy cheek as he fed. “And he’s so good, too. As soon as we know what he wants, he gets it and he’s quiet again.”

“He’s like his dad, very unfussy. All of this will be subject to the ultimate test, though. When he’s old enough to have keys and can’t find them.” She winked, and it had him laughing softly though his nose, knowing what a nightmare he could be while under the duress of misplacing an item.

Adrien raised an eyebrow, and a middle finger, laughing quietly eventually. “Yeah, alright. Guess I have to take that one.”

“Or when a plan changes at short notice.”

“Okay, Burtie! That’s enough haranguing of your husband.” he spoke, reaching to gently flick her arm as she chuckled, her eyes flitting down to their baby. She had taken to motherhood like a duck to water, something Adrien had very much expected. Seeing how she was with their animals had always clued him in to her deeply maternal nature, the way she liked to look after something, or someone.

Her caring side was completely unsurpassed. He’d never forget years ago when a young fan had been waiting in hope to meet them at the backstage doors one afternoon, Jade picking up immediately that the young girl looked like she’d been crying. She’d crouched before her and held her hands as the young fan had recounted the ordeal of having her bag stolen, no phone, no wallet, her only saving grace being that she’d had her passport and plane ticket back to Ireland stashed in her jacket.

His wife had gone above and beyond, calling the hotel she was staying at and paying for her room on her own card before giving her two hundred pounds in cash so she had enough money for necessities before going home. That girl was Saoirse, a promising art student who now worked in merchandising for the band, designing every single piece of apparel sold on Seventh Gate’s online store.

Once Max was fed, Jade put him back down, she and Adrein grabbing another precious hour of sleep before they were alerted by his cries again, this time a full diaper needing disposing of. While Jade sorted him, Adrien went and made them breakfast, yawning as he did. And the broken sleep would only get worse, but his baby was worth every ounce of slumber deprivation.

While Jade showered, he held him on his legs while watching the morning news, Max snoozing, his adoring father beaming at him. He’d never seen anything so precious, and he was his. Later that morning, a couple of others more than agreed with that too.

“Oh my god, homeslice!” Jen gasped, holding out her arms. “Gimme him, I gotta get a good munch in!” Adrien placed him carefully into her arms, Jade beaming from where she sat in the armchair adjacent as she watched her best friend cradle her son for the first time. “Hi, tiny person! You’re super, hella cute, man! I ain’t biased at all either, some babies come out looking all busted up, but not you! God damn, he’s beautiful!”

“Hey now, don’t you be changing yer mind here, Jennifer!” Nick warned, waving a finger at his wife. “Just because he’s cute does’nae mean we should have one!”

She laughed softly, gently stroking Max’s ear with her fingernail. “Nah, I’m good playing auntie. I’ll leave the tingly ovaries to the other girls, man.” And boy, when Charlotte, Katie and Jess met him over the coming days, they experienced just that. It was a constant stream of joy for them both, watching their loved ones meeting their little baby for the first time, Patrick especially as he rocked his grandson in his arms.

“Now, little one. This painting right here is a Beksinski, your mother’s preferred choice. I cannot say I care too much for him, but John Williams Waterhouse, I shall educate you in. As well as the more standard grandpa things. We’re going to go to a dreadful place called Coney Island, yes! Cotton candy and fairground rides ran by the great unwashed. We will fill our bellies with soda and corndogs, and in doing so I shall probably enjoy such an escapade much more than I will ever let on. Yes I will, young man. Mmhmm.”

He made good on his promise, too, when Max was old enough to appreciate it and the family returned to the city to visit their parents. Four years sped past in the blink of an eye, two thousand and twenty rolling around and bringing with it one of the biggest life changing events to hit the entire world, the Covid-19 pandemic spreading like wildfire.

Jade, Adrien and Max were in England when it hit badly, the eventual closing of the borders meaning they spend the best part of that year at their home in Buckinghamshire. It was the home they’d spent the least amount of time in out of their three, and while they missed Cleveland, it was good to settle in the English countryside for a few months. It was also the home they welcomed their second and third children in, Jade giving birth in March to twin girls they named Harri and Henri.

Both had wondered when the twin gene that ran through Gemma’s side would land upon them. The girls brought further joy into their lives, as well as a lot of energy and noise. So much noise. Harri was the quieter of the two, a very contemplative child, while Henri... well... there was a reason why as she grew up, they nicknamed her Louise, after the character Louise Belcher in the animated series Bob’s Burgers. She was pure chaos.

“Dad! Can we gallop, can we?”

Why? Why had he decided to take her with him as he rode Saxon over the fields of their Cleveland abode, his high-energy five-year-old squirming as she sat at the front of the saddle.

“No, honey. I can’t control a horse at that pace and make sure you don’t fall off,” he spoke, being met with a huge frown.

“But why? It’ll be lit!”

He could kill Jen for teaching her as much slang as she could remember. “Ain’t happening, Henri.”

She was thoughtful for a few moments. “I know, I know! We go back, grab mom’s snowboard, attach a rope to Saxon and then I can ski along behind you! That’ll be awesome, we have to do it!”

“No, it won’t,” he spoke. More wiggling and shouting followed.

“But why?”

Yes, she had definitely entered her why years. Why this, why that, and then a little more why sprinkled on top of that. Most days, she made him feel much older than his fifty-one years. If he even let her do half of her madcap suggestions, he wagered he’d feel even older still.

“Because it’s dangerous,” he advised.

“I live for the danger, dad!”

He shouldn’t have laughed, but he did. “Don’t I know it, kid.”

They turned back after a further half hour, riding onto the sun filled yard, the summer in full bloom. Jumping down from Saxon, one of their staff who worked on the yard took him from Adrien, Henri running off to where her sister was busy feeding the large group of ducks milling around at the top. Yes, thanks to Jade, Stone Barn Castle had practically been restored to a farm once again, more stables built, a few more horses within them, ducks present. They even had a small goat herd.

Heading into the house, he saw his wife and son in the kitchen, Max helping his mother make the huge bowl of guacamole that would go with their chili later that evening. Jade had been all set to go and buy some fresh fish, but as usual, the children had different ideas. They often got their own way when it came to their mom’s chili. She did happen to make it very, very well.

They ate outside that evening, Jade and Adrien relaxing on the outdoor couch with a glass of wine each as they watched their kids playing in the fading sun.

“Henri!” she called, pointing. “What have I told you? No weaponizing chickens against your sister! Put her down!”

“It’s an assault by leghorn!” the child cried, the hen eventually being placed back down to scurry off to where the others pecked contentedly at the grass.

Adrien chuckled, winding an arm around his shoulders. “She reminds me of you when you’re drunk.” He received an elbow to his side, laughing more, kissing her head. “Wouldn’t have her any other way, though.”

“The volume is a bit much as times, but no. Neither would I.” Looking out at her beloved babies, she smiled with pure contentment. “Wouldn’t have anything any other way.”

And neither would he. Fifteen years before, he’d begrudged being dragged along by Lewis to that open air music festival. If only the younger man in the crowd could have possibly known all that would come from one beautiful woman screaming in his face. He’d have never believed it, but he knew he wouldn’t change any of it at all.

The End.

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