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#im going to be starting binding but i dont have a lot of wiggle room financially since im starting my four year college so
sunshineysprinkles · 2 years
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question for people who bind!!! do you have a favorite brand to buy binders from and if so which is it??
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isitgintimeyet · 5 years
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The Ties That Bind
Thanks for all your feedback on the first chapter. I loved reading it all! I hope you enjoy the second chapter.
Once again thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta
Chapter 2 : A Recreational Activity (well, a few)
The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.  -Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
Jamie groaned and hoped that the banging inside his head would stop soon. This was the problem with drinking wine. Generally Jamie tried to steer clear of ‘grape’ and stick to ‘grain’. However, last night, he had supped copious quantities of both and now was suffering the consequences. He stretched his hand out hoping to find a glass of water and possibly even two aspirins left on the bedside table by his more responsible alter ego yesterday. There they were. Gratefully, he sank back onto the pillows and waited for them to do their work.  
Parts of his alcohol-induced dreams came back to him… miles and miles of hotel corridors and he was chasing, chasing... a woman with the most gorgeous legs he had ever seen. He kept chasing her, but she wouldn’t stop and she wouldn’t turn round. A flash of wild dark curls and…
The banging in his head seemed to be louder now. “Unca,” a cross little voice added to the general cacophony. “Unca, get up now. Mam says now. ‘Tis beckfast and then ‘wimmin’. Mam says.”
Jamie forced himself out of bed. Fastening the towelling bath robe, he opened his door. His little nephew rushed past him and started jumping on the bed. Jenny stood in the doorway, her eyes darting all round the room.
“I go ‘wimmin’ with ye, Unca, wiv Spideyman shorts. What ye shorts, Unca?”
Jamie sighed and looked at his sister. “She’s no’ here. She didna stay. Nothing happened.” He grabbed Wee Jamie round his middle, lifting him high up in the air. “And who said I would take ye swimmin’, ye wee fishie?”
“Mam said so, she did.”
Jamie gently set his nephew on his feet. “Aye, well, yer mam makes an awfa’ lot o’ decisions fer the men in this family. But I guess I canna refuse, no’ if I ken what’s good fer me.”
**************
Claire lay on one of the day beds next to the swimming pool and wiggled her toes, admiring the newly applied scarlet polish. She set aside the copy of Hello! she had been skimming through and turned to Geillis.
“This was such a good idea of yours, G. Total battery recharge today… and we’ve even had the whole pool to ourselves. I don’t reckon we’ll be seeing any of that wedding party any time soon. Not if last night was anything to go by.”
“I am rather full of brilliant ideas,” Geillis agreed. “Although I feel we may have missed an opportunity last night. So many men...”
“... And no doubt so many wives and girlfriends!” Claire interrupted.
“Och, well,” Geillis dismissed Claire’s interruption. “Guess we’ll never know.”
“Anyway, so I’ve a body wrap, then hot stone massage in twenty minutes. I’m going to head into the sauna for ten minutes first. You coming?”
“Aye, may as weel. I don’t reckon there’ll be anything worth hangin’ round here fer today.” Geillis gathered up her belongings and followed Claire into the sauna.
**************
Jamie sat in the male changing room, blowing up his nephew’s armbands (Spider-Man, obviously a theme here) while Wee Jamie hopped excitedly from foot to foot.
“Now, afore we go in the pool, are ye sure you dinna need a wee? Ye ken what I told ye, as how if ye wee in the pool, the water turns bright blue?”
“Nah, Unca, c’mon now. Wanna go ‘wimmin’.” The little lad pulled his armbands up, grabbed Jamie’s hand and headed for the door. “C’mon, c’mon.” He paused and stared intently at his uncle. “Ye no Spideyman shorts?”
Jamie looked down at his blue checked board shorts and tried to look sad about this. “Sorry lad, I’m too big fer such a fine pair.”
As they entered the pool area together, Jamie looked around. It was totally deserted, which, Jamie thought, was hardly surprising based on the amount of alcohol that had been consumed the day before. An abandoned magazine lay on one of the day beds.
Wee Jamie pointed to a small passage way on the other side of the pool. “What’s ‘at?”
“Ah, nothing for ye. Just the sauna... it’s awfa hot and no’ fer children and the girls’ changing room is down there too. That’s definitely no’ fer us lads, eh?”
Following Jenny’s instructions to “wear the lad out, we want him tae sleep in the car going home,” Jamie stayed in the pool, playing with his nephew until he noticed the lad’s eyelids start to droop. He scooped him up and carried him back to the changing room, intending to just wrap him in a towel and leave the tricky drying and dressing to Jenny.
Wee Jamie held tightly to his uncle’s neck. “You fib, Unca. Ye did. I wee’d and I wee’d but no blue.”
Jamie chuckled. God, he loved this little lad something fierce and maybe someday, God willing...
**************
Claire picked up the two whiskies from the bar and made her way to the table where Geillis was sitting. The pub was quite empty at the moment, just a handful of people, like them, having a quick drink after work before heading home.
Geillis looked Claire up and down appraisingly. “Ye ken I love ye, Claire, but could you no’ wear something a bit, weel, more alluring when we’re out?”
Claire gazed down at her old jeans and plain black tee shirt. “G, I’ve been on my feet in theatre for the past 8 hours. I’m so knackered, you’re lucky I managed to change out of my scrubs and into this! Besides, however can I compete with your alllllluuure?”  She drawled the last word out jokingly. “Maybe you have the allure for both of us? I can be your duff.”
Geillis raised a quizzical eyebrow.  
“Designated ugly fat friend.” Claire explained with a smile. “According to the movie, every friendship group has one. You and me, we’re a friendship group, ergo, I must be it.”
“Claire, ye may be many things but fat or ugly never.” Geillis said, “Yer hair’s a wee bit wild, mind. Do ye no’ fancy a Brazilian blow dry?” She ran her fingers over her sleek strawberry blonde locks.
“And here’s me thinking a ‘brazilian’ was about a different part of my anatomy altogether!”
Geillis smiled, then a serious expression crept over her face. “But, Claire, ye dinna think ye’re fat or ugly really, do ye?”
Claire stared at the beer mat on the table, her fingers picking at it, ripping it into tiny shreds of paper. She really thought she’d outgrown that nervous habit.
“Well, no, but, it’s difficult to explain. Frank...” She could hear Geillis tutting at the mention of his name. “Frank had certain… er, expectations of how I should be. How I should behave, how I should look. The disapproval on his face if I took an extra roast potato, ordered dessert, poured myself another glass of wine. There was always someone younger, more self-controlled, thinner. So, for a while I tried to become the person he wanted me to be. I tried to see myself through his eyes and I saw the fat arse, the lack of control, the not-really good enough...”
Geillis leaned closer and gently placed her hand on Claire’s. “Thank God ye got out of there. That wasna a healthy place tae be, Claire. Ye know ye’re worth a lot more than that.”
“I know. And I am joking about that duff business but occasionally, old habits are hard to break. That’s why I’m not after a serious relationship. I’m not sure I’m ready to let someone see me as I really am.”
“But a fling will do ye no harm at all. It will do ye the world of good, let ye see how another man treats ye. In fact, we need a list. A checklist. When ye’re in theatre, ye dinna start cuttin’ till ye know everything is in place, all the boxes are ticked. So we make a list of what ye want and ye dinna start, er, flingin’ till a man ticks all the boxes.”
Claire finally put the mangled beer mat down. “A list, really?”
“Aye, it’s scientific, ye ken.” Geillis picked up her bag and rooted around for a piece of paper. Finding an unused paper napkin, she smoothed it flat on the table, extracted a pen from the depths of her bag and sat poised ready to write. “Ok. Point one…” She scribbled something down quickly.
“Come on, Let me read it.” Claire laughed, turning the napkin round. “Must look good in, and out of, a kilt. G, you have a one-track mind.”
“Och, it’s a fling we’re talking about, ye only need one track, I reckon. So, what about point two?”
“Well, I may as well play along. Point two must be no complications.”
Geillis obligingly wrote that down. “Next point. Enjoys a drink. Likes to let his hair down.”
Claire took the pen from her friend and added another line. Geillis read it upside down. “Really, it’s a fling ye’re after. Ye’re tellin’ me if they dinna like the X-Files, that’s it? Is that a deal breaker?”
“What can I say? The heart wants what the heart wants.”
“Fine, but I’m adding this one then. Fancies ye as ye are. No changing ye.”
The pub was starting to fill up. Most commuters had already made their way home, to be replaced by those heading out for the evening, coming into the pub for a quick drink before their evening plans properly began. Even on a drizzly Thursday evening, it was getting to be standing room only. Claire noticed several people eyeing their table enviously. She drained her whisky glass and stood up.
“I think that’s me done for this evening. Any more and I’ll have to be put to bed right here.  I’ll just pop to the loo and meet you outside, G.”
As Claire crossed the room to the toilets, Geillis started to gather her stuff together to leave.
Immediately a woman rushed to the table, plonked herself in one chair, and stuffed her bag on the other chair. She eyed Geillis, willing her to hurry up and be on her way. Geillis ignored her and continued rifling through her bag, her movements deliberately slowing. Eventually, Geillis decided she’d had enough of the game, turned away and walked to the exit.
**************
Geneva caught Jamie’s eye as he moved away from the bar, drinks in hand, and pointed to the seats she had found for them. He sat down, taking a deep slug of his whisky as he put Geneva’s vodka, lime and soda on the table next to a tatty old napkin.  
“Someone’s shopping list, no doubt.” Geneva dismissed it with a wave of her hand as Jamie picked it up and carried on telling Jamie about the difficulties in trying to find the correct colour for a new bedroom throw. “...Not really a teal, but not quite a cerulean colour either…”
Jamie knew his role in this. It was just to nod and murmur appreciatively at appropriate points in the story. That gave him time to think… unfortunately. Thinking made him realise that Jenny had been right three weeks ago at the wedding. Geneva was not the one, he didn’t need to try again just to see. And she did talk utter shite.
He groaned, which Geneva seemed to take as indication of his deep interest in her tale of home furnishing trials and tribulations. He should never have slept with her. He hadn’t intended to but last night, as the blood left his brain and migrated south, he had lost the capacity for rational, coherent thought and had followed his baser instincts. Which had been a very bad idea.
Jamie glanced at the napkin he was still holding. Straightening it between his fingers, he began to read. A woman with long strawberry blonde locks suddenly leaned over and gently took the napkin from his fingers.  
“Thanks, it’s fer scientific research, ye ken.”  
He watched as she walked to the door, to her waiting friend. Her friend with the long shapely denim clad legs and mad curly hair and her face, so full of life with sparkling eyes he longed to dive right into.
“What an odd thing to want.” Geneva interrupted his contemplation. “That couldn’t have been scientific research. On a used napkin. Some people are just strange.”
Jamie felt his breath catch in his throat. Jenny had been right - he recognised it. What to do now?
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