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callsign-phoenix · 2 years ago

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This is part two to this Press Play AU I wrote.

It is a Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x female!reader imagine.

Thank you to @wildbornsiren for proofreading and @lt-natrace for the gorgeous header!

Warnings: serious angst, once again

You needed a day to come to terms with the new developments.

It was scary to come back to your reality only to find it differed significantly to what you had gotten used to, and Phoenix’s presence as your roommate made it even harder for you.

She reminded you of Bob constantly, which made you pull out the polaroids again as soon as you decided to get up the next day.

You hadn’t slept, but that was expected, your mind turning and turning until you finally returned to the pictures.

The one you had looked at the day before was gone, erased from the book, but all the more present in your mind.

Your breath stopped when you picked up the next picture you had taken, your third date, at a museum of flight.

Bob had taken you there because you had asked him to show you what he was passionate about.

He had talked for hours and explained away, better than any tour guide could have, and on the drive back you had taken a picture of him.

He was smiling in a way that seemed like he wasn’t even aware that he was doing so, his hands on the steering wheel and a strand of his hair falling into his face.

The sun shone from behind him so you could barely see more than a silhouette, but you remembered it.

Your hand that was holding the photograph was slightly trembling as you stared at it, doing your best to recover the feelings and impressions of the day from your memory.

It was only when you felt your body shake from a pothole in the street that you realised you were back.

“Bob,” you breathed out as you turned your head to look at him, the way you said his name alone making him realise what was happening.

He just had a way to sense how you were doing that you had never seen with anyone else.

He glanced at you as he nodded shortly, holding one of his hands out to you on instinct as he tried to find a way to park the car.

He pulled out of traffic to stop it in the dirt at the side of the road, receiving some angry honks in the process, which he didn’t regard with even a bat of an eye.

“It’s okay,” he told you as he turned to you, holding your hand over the gearstick.

“You were gone when I pulled back from the hug a few days ago, you didn’t remember what you said,” he told you, and you nodded busily.

You were stunned by his presence, the kindness and comfort he emitted, and you had to take a few seconds to take him in again.

“You did what I asked,” you told him, making him frown as he realised that even though he had corrected his mistake you were back again.

“But it didn’t work. You… Phoenix told me you were hit by a drunk driver,” you said, wincing at the realisation that you were currently in a car on an open road.

Bob simply nodded, seeming level-headed about the fact that he was going to die.

“Did she say where?” He asked, and you nodded quickly.

“Then I’ll stay away from there,” he added.

You were savouring every single second you sat in that car with Bob like the first time you had done so, just talking and explaining your situation further.

Bob was so gentle with you, listening to you and showing you he cared for you with every single thing he did.

He hugged you again, if a little awkwardly because of the gearstick being in the way, and you found yourself back on your bed.

Your yearning for him got stronger every time you saw him again it seemed, but this time you didn’t cry.

Instead you rushed outside to see if it had worked.

While Phoenix’s things were gone from your guest bedroom you didn’t see a sign of Bob, not a single thing that showed that he was alive.

You dialed both Bob’s and Natasha’s number but they were both deactivated.

Jake answered at the third ring, his voice drowsy with sleep.

“Hey, what are you doing calling me at 8 am on a Saturday?” He asked, but you could hear a small smile in his voice.

At the other end of the phone you could hear a woman groan in sleepy protest and Jake mumbled something back you couldn’t make out as he left the room.

“I need to ask you something that might sound really weird,” you told him, and he chuckled at that.

Nevertheless he could hear how serious you were, so he agreed.

“Jake, how did Bob die?” You asked him, and you could hear him let out a breath against the speaker of his phone.

“Shit, darling, what did you take? You don’t sound drunk to me,” he asked you, but you didn’t bother to answer.

“Jake, seriously, just tell me,” you said with intensity, and you heard him sigh.

“A training, there was a bird strike and their plane crashed,” he said, his voice soft in grief.

You didn’t even bother replying, hanging up the phone and rushing to the box with polaroids.

The moment you took the next picture in your hands your demeanor changed and you handled it carefully, smiling at what you were seeing.

It was a picture of Bob again, laying on his stomach in your bed, his arm angled up below his head and the pillow.

You could see the dimples on his shoulder because he wasn’t wearing a shirt, it had been the first time he had stayed over at your place.

He was wrapped up in your favourite bedsheet and the way the light hit his still sleeping face had made you take the picture, a ray of sunlight hitting it just right so his lashes and the few strands of hair that fell into his face glowed golden.

You heard a grunt as his lips lifted into a tired smile, he was still disoriented as he smiled at you.

“Did you just take my picture, baby?” His drawl was thick in his morning voice, reminding you how precious late mornings with him had been to you.

You smiled at him with a sense of melancholy that made him aware of the situation and he sat up in bed, leaning against the headboard.

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling the blanket away to invite you into his lap.

You immediately moved into his embrace, the feeling of his naked skin on yours and his overwhelming scent making tears reappear in your eyes.

You were so overwhelmed by him that you forgot what you were doing for a few moments, and he let you.

He simply held you, his hands brushing over different areas of your body in gentle caresses.

When you had collected yourself enough to speak you leaned back a little, looking into his eyes without the glasses separating you, which brought another level of intimacy.

You were finally able to touch him in the way you wanted to, setting a hand to the side of his face and holding it there.

“What happened this time, baby?” He whispered in understanding, and the soft voice mixed with his morning drawl sent another set of tears down your face.

He took his time to brush away every single one of them.

“It’s training. There’s a bird strike, and your plane crashes,” you said, and he nodded gently.

“This is… I wish you wouldn’t fly. This is all because of… I mean, I can’t ask you not to fly,” you whispered, a little hiccup in your voice stemming from your grief.

“I don’t want to ask you not to fly, it’s what you love,” you said, and you could see the sadness settling on his face.

“But I love you too,” he said to you, taking your breath away with his answer.

“If it’s flying for another month or having a life with you, I think I know what my answer is,” he whispered, but you were back in your bed.

You were frantic when you looked around, not seeing a single change in the room.

When you dialed Bob’s number a woman answered, explaining that she had received the number a few weeks ago after switching her phone.

It left you crying for hours on your bed, curled up into a ball to receive at least the smallest bit of comfort from yourself.

part three

tagging: @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @hederasgarden @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @kyramaximoff @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @thelifeofthelifeofme @midget713 @dannyramirezwife @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @softromantist @malindacath @peaches-1999 @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby @luckyladycreator2 @blue-aconite @tipsykeen @airedale17 @iangiemae @aprilfire18 @uwiuwi @princessofglitterland @ycarlii @teti-menchon0604 @butaneandthebeast @call-sign-hurricane

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

#robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x you #robert floyd #robert floyd x reader #bob top gun #top gun bob

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years ago

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You Are In Love (M.YG)

Warnings : mentions of cheating

Word Count : 2149

Synopsis : while laying in bed, she realizes she’s in love with min yoongi

When my eyes opened, I was met with my boyfriend’s sleeping face, and a smile spread across mine. His arm was lazily draped across my body, unlike the tight hold he had on me when we had fallen asleep the previous night. Watching him sleep peacefully like this, I couldn’t help but think about how lucky I am to call him mine. “What are you looking at?” He grumbled in his morning voice, his eyes slowly opening to meet mine.

“The most handsome man in the world.” I whispered, leaning up to kiss his nose. He scrunched his face before pouting, saying I missed the obvious target and pulling me in for a sweet kiss. When we pulled away and I met his eyes again, his hand moving to brush some hair out of my face, I was hit with the sudden realization that I was in love with him. I knew I was falling; I’d been falling for him since we started dating. But being with him like this feels so domestic, and I want to wake up to his face every day for the rest of my life.

“Coffee for the pretty lady.” Yoongi smiled as he sat across from me, placing both our drinks on the table between us. I thanked him and reiterated that he didn’t have to pay for me. “Let me be a gentleman.” He pouted and I giggled, completely giving into him.

I was so nervous, playing with my hands in my lap as we talked and got to know each other better. But as the date went on, I found myself laughing more and becoming more comfortable with him. After we finished our coffees, we decided to take a walk around and enjoy the nice weather. At one point, he had slipped his hand into mine, smiling down at me when I looked over to him. “I like holding hands.” He said simply, his gummy smile on full display.

“Me too.” I tightened my grip on his hand, and we continued walking around like that, telling each other stories of our lives, and just enjoying each other’s company.

I met Yoongi through a mutual friend, Jung Hoseok, and there was a connection almost immediately. He was a bit distant at first, and I later found out through Hoseok, and then Yoongi, that it was because he found me pretty and got nervous around me. It took him almost three months to ask me on our first date, and then another month to make us official.

“For you.” He said with a nervous smile as he handed me the plush he had won at the game at the fair. A blush rose to my cheeks and I accepted it, thanking him. “Those games are rigged, but I really wanted to win you something.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as we slowly walked by all the concessions.

“You’re cute.” I told him, causing him to stop walking. I stopped a couple steps ahead of him, and turned to face him, a look of confusion on my face. He just stared at me in silence, a small smile dancing across his lips that slowly grew into his wide, gummy smile that I adored.

“You think so?” He chuckled, taking the two steps towards me, and slipping his hand into mine as we continued walking.

“I know so.” I countered as I started swinging our arms back and forth, looking around at all the lights that seemed to brighten the darkening day. We made our way to the ferris wheel, completing our fair date night with a cliché. I looked out at all the lights, and watched as couples wandered around hand in hand, much like Yoongi and I.

“Can I kiss you?” His question caught me off guard, and I looked at him with widened eyes, before giggling at his question.

“You’ve kissed me before; you don’t need to ask.” I told him, and he wasted no time; cupping my face and crashing his lips to mine as if he would die otherwise.

“Just let me be a gentleman.” He said softly after he pulled away, his hands still cupping my face as he rested his forehead against mine. The ride quickly came to an end, and we decided to call it a night.

We held hands as he drove me home, his thumb running over my knuckles subconsciously. The ride was silent save for the soft music playing from the radio, but the silence was comfortable. When we made it to my apartment, he walked me to the door like he always does, but he seemed really nervous this time. I thanked him for a fun night and gave him a quick kiss goodnight. “Y/N.” He called before I could open the door, and I turned to face him. “Be my girlfriend.” He spit out quickly and my eyes widened. “I mean, uh, would you want to be my girlfriend?” He started kicking his feet and rubbing the back of his neck, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I’d love to, Yoongs.” I walked towards him, lazily wrapping my arms around his neck, and bringing him in for a sweet kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch with Hoseok?” He asked and I nodded, asking him if he could pick me up. “It would be my pleasure.” He kissed me one more time before heading home.

Hoseok wasn’t surprised when we told him we were dating, having to deal with our pining for months. He would act as if he hated being the third wheel but was actually really happy we both were happy. He’s taken so many photos of us it’s almost like he’s our own personal photographer.

“God you two are disgustingly cute.” Hoseok rolled his eyes as he walked into Yoongi’s kitchen, Yoongi behind me with his arms wrapped around me as we cooked together. Neither one of us moved from our position, and Hoseok snapped a couple pictures. He definitely wasn’t complaining when he dug into the food and ate most of it, going on about how delicious it was.

“It was made with love.” Yoongi smiled, pressing a quick kiss to my lips.

“Wow I cannot wait until you two are out of the honeymoon phase.” He quipped, but I could see the small smile on his face as he watched his two best friends fall in love.

Before meeting Yoongi, I believed I wasn’t meant to find love. Everyone I liked and dated seemed to treat me like shit; toss me aside for something better. I was scared Yoongi would do it as well, but he’s proven over and over again that he’s in this for the long run. And as I lay here in bed, staring into his eyes, realizing that he’s the love of my life, I can picture him at the end of the aisle, smiling as I walk towards him.

“Y/N! What a small world.” Mark exclaimed, pulling me in for an awkward hug. “This is Jennie, my fiancée.” I looked down at her ring finger, seeing a beautiful diamond ring adorning it. “This is Y/N, my ex. She’s chill people though.” He said to Jennie. I smiled at her, extending my hand for her to shake. She did so with little hesitation. Yoongi slid his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him as he looked at the couple in front of us.

“This is Yoongi, my boyfriend.” I told Mark, smiling up at Yoongi who was already looking at me with a smile. “This is Mark.” The two of them shook hands, and the four of us stood around for a couple of minutes before I excused us so we could go greet the man of the hour. “I forgot he and Jackson were friends.” I told Yoongi, trying to calm my pounding heart.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” Yoongi immediately led me to the closest chair, sitting me down and kneeling in front of me. He placed his hand on my forehead, checking my temperature while looking at me with concern in his eyes. I grabbed his hand from my forehead, holding it in my hand as I told him I was okay.

“Mark’s the guy I told you about. The one who doesn’t do marriage. The one who was cheating on me; with Jennie.” He cupped my face with his hands, wiping away the tears I didn’t know fell.

“Well honestly, that’s his loss. You are the most beautiful, kind-hearted person I’ve ever met. And because he was an idiot, I get to show you what true love looks like.” He ended his small speech with a small kiss. “Now, what do you say we go wish Jackson a happy birthday and then sneak away and go see that movie you wanted to see?” I smiled and nodded, taking his hand as we both stood up and made our way to Jackson.

Yoongi was right. We just celebrated our 6 months last night, and I’ve felt more loved during these last 6 months than I did the 2 years I was with Mark. Yoongi always reminds me how much he cares about me, how beautiful he finds me. Not a day goes by without him reminding me. I was so sure I was going to marry Mark, but in this moment, I know that was just a silly dream, a wish. But marrying Yoongi, I can picture it. I want to spend the rest of my life showing Yoongi all the love he’s shown me, and then some.

Come outside. His text read, and I didn’t even think twice about throwing on some clothes and meeting him outside. The sun had long set, and the stars littered the sky. There was only a small breeze ruining an otherwise perfect night.

Yoongi was standing beside his car when I got outside, a wide smile spreading across his face when he saw me. I practically jumped into his arms, giving him a quick kiss. “You make it seem like you haven’t seen me in ages.” He joked; his arms still wrapped around me.

“I haven’t seen you in 2 days. That is forever!” I jokingly exclaimed, throwing my head back to further make my point. A chuckle escaped his lips, and I absolutely loved the sound. I have since the first time I heard it. I could listen to it on repeat all day and not get bored.

“You know what, you’re absolutely right. 2 days is far too long without you, angel.” He leaned in for another kiss, one I happily returned. “Shall we go?” He asked, pointing to his car, and I nodded, even though I had no idea what he had planned. I trusted him.

He had driven us to an open field and laid a blanket down. “I wanted to star gaze with you.” He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You really are too cute, Min Yoongi.” We laid beside each other, and I listened as he pointed out different constellations to me. He would tell me the stories about them, and I would hang onto every word.

“And that one right there, that’s Y/N Y/L/N.” My eyes widened as I looked at him, sitting up quickly. He sat up too, pulling a folded paper out of his pocket, unfolding it, and showing it to me. “As of today, there is a star named after you. Because you are my star.”

“You really just went and named a star after me.” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “Just take my whole heart, Min Yoongi. I don’t even want it back.” He chuckled, wiping away the tears that fell.

“If I could buy you the entire world, I would.” He told me. And I know he would.

“You are my world, Yoongs.” I admitted to him. And that’s when he pulled me in for the most passionate kiss I’ve ever felt. And it didn’t end there. It ended later that night, in my bed, soft moans in the air as we slept together for the first time.

As I laid beside him, recounting all my memories with him, I realized I’d been in love with him the entire time. For me, there wasn’t going to be anyone else. Min Yoongi was it for me. “What are you thinking so hard about, love?” He said softly, a small smile on his face.

“How absolutely, irrevocably in love I am with you, Min Yoongi.” I admitted and watched as his small smile grew. “I’ve always been in love with you.” I continued.

“I am so in love with you, Y/N Y/L/N.” He chuckled. “And I’m going to show you that every day for as long as you’ll have me.”

“I was thinking forever.”

“Forever sounds good.” Forever sounds perfect.

#bts imagine #bts au #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi au #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin

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cottoncandyjester · 4 years ago

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Yan oc squad when jealous

Okay so I'm currently working on backstory posts for all the boys as well as kinkmas stuff so til those come out enjoy random quick headcanons about the boys or any request people want to give about..well anything

Theodore

He hates getting jealous

It's a bad feeling

When he sees you smiling and laughing cause of someone else a dark feeling fills him

He can't help but think of horrible thoughts like you finding someone else

These feelings control him and cause him to do foolish things or things he would seem as idiotic

If you're talking to someone he will quickly come to you and hold you simply staring

He is far too much of a gentleman to make a scene

He shouldn't be so jealous but as he watched you giggle with an old a friend during what was supposed to be a coffee date, he gripped his cup as he felt like some sort of third wheel. Everytime he would try to interrupt you he was cut off by your friend and their obnoxious talking

Soon fed up with it he stood up now grabbing your arm feeling you tense lightly, he simply flashed a sweet smile now holding your hand

"I'm sorry to interrupt this conversation but we really must go, right sweetie?"

Before you could speak the male was pulling you out the cafe and towards the car, his grip on you firm as his sweet smile turned to a friend now glancing over at you

"don't talk to that person ever again, she is bad for you okay?"

"I'm an adult I ca-"

Theodore pulled you roughly infront if him his eyes wild with rage but he simmered down now smiling as he reached out and placed a hand on your cheek

"what did we talk about hmm? You make bad judgements, you're too sweet and kind and everyone will take advantage of that..so trust me when i say they are bad okay?"

You gulped and gave a small nod, you did trust him since he always knew best but he still scared you. You had no choice but to agree and as the two of you went home you could feel the tense jealously coming off him..he truly wanted you to himself

Hikaru

Is a very very jealous person

He had a photoshoot in korea and of course he had to take you along for the ride

It was a lovely vacation

During the shoot his photographer would ask you questions

His photographer seemed to like you

And hikaru did not like that

Of course hikaru kept his cool but after a while he got fed up

He sent you back to the hotel so he can deal with this

After getting very violent he comes back blood soaked and takes his anger out on you

Hikaru has been gone for hours but you figured nothing of it, maybe photoshoots take a long long time. You sat on the hotel bed scrolling through your phone before you heard a click and the door opened

You rushed to greet your boyfriend only to see him covered in blood now using a cloth to wipe his face, his eyes still dangerous and wild. When his blue eyes landed on you a chill went down your spine before he reached out and gripped your wrist

"it's your damn fault y'know? Its cause people think your so fucking attractive. I'm all dirty cause of you, damn pig."

As hikaru now squeezed your wrist panic set in as you tried to pry him off of you and maybe calm him down before he get any more angrier

"b-babe I didn't know this would happen and plus, you know I love only you"

Your stumbling and stuttering only seemed to make him more pissed as he now yanked you to the bed before pushing you down now throwing his coat off and eyeing you with utter disgust

"then fucking prove it, prove that my piggy only loves me and maybe I won't be so mean anymore kay?"

Prince

Instantly gets into a fight

Just no questions asked gets into a fight

You two were just walking around the park with his dog, queen

Prince let you alone for a single minute just to grab some food

Did not take long for some Chad to get to chatting with you

Queen was not happy

And when prince came back he was not happy either

So he got into a fight

You scolded him while you were patching him up

"prince.."

"yeah my beautiful and amazing love who I adore everyday?"

You shot the male a glare as he lit a cigarette before taking a smoke, he clearly did not like upsetting you and was definitely stressed

"as much as I love your protectiveness, getting into fights isn't a good thing"

"I can't let someone steal ya away from me baby, just won't allow it"

You shake your head as you put the last band-aid on before feeling something crawl into your lap, you stare at the Pitbull who laid her head in your lap

"-and you! You were supposed to protect her queen! At least bite the son of a bitch or something!"

You couldn't help but laugh at the male's antics, you didnt really see much of the fight since prince told you to wait in the car but you figured the guy was fine

Prince on the other hand simply smiled as he though about how he took care of the situation, queen was such a good dog though he hoped that eating that bastard wouldn't make her sick.

Yuki

Also gets into a fight

You both were at a cat cafe enjoying your time

Yuki fell asleep..no surprise there

You knew he was tired so you let him nap while you played with the cats and ate more yummy snacks

Yuki did say you can order as much as you want and anything you want..

When a worker came to the table and saw yuki sleeping he decided to shoot his shot

Did not take long for your green haired boyfriend to wake up after hearing awkward laughing coming from you

One violent fight later and you two were home while you patched yuki up

He only responds in pouty grumbles and grunts cause you scolded him

Gives you the cold shoulder

But he can't stay mad at you

"yuki, stop being a baby"

"...."

"yuki, look at me"

With still no response you groaned lowly now sliding into the male's lap and seeing him tense up lightly but he simply turned his head away from you with a scowl as he tried not to give in, he was angry that you weren't taking his side on this

Someone tried to steal you away and he protected you! Yet you scold him and tell him not to do it again?! He doesn't get it at all

"yuki narukami you look at me!"

He jolted at the use of his full name and he looked at you with a shocked expression before you squished his face together causing him to get even more confused

"you were going to kill him if you kept punching him, that's why i was mad. Thank you for protecting me though I love you and it's sweet"

Yuki paused before simply wrapping his arms around you giving a low grunt now nuzzling his face in your neck as a dark Expression pooled his eyes.

So, protecting you is fine but he has to make sure he can't kill infront of you? Good to know. As yuki held you in his arms he couldn't help but smile

You were so interesting to him.

Axis

It's always the baby types you have to watch out for

You both were at a new amusement park that opened up a few weeks ago

You two were having fun

But after two big drinks axis had to pee while you both were waiting in line for a ride

He told you to hold the spot

You were of course worried your blind boyfriend is going to find a boyfriend on a crowded area but he reassured you that he will be fine

You let him go and It didn't take long for someone to come up to you and try flirt

When axis came back

He tried to play tough guy

But being 5'4" has its downfalls..

Axis was getting tunnel vision, they were laughing at him..he claimed to be your boyfriend and they called him a kid, how can he protect you if he can't even protect himself..how?!

"leave him alone! He's my boyfriend so just go away!"

You had to step in, it was embarrassing. Axis felt you grip his hand tightly now feeling nothing but anger and jealously bubble within him even as the situation diffused he thought about it

Did..you take him seriously?

"[y/n], am I hot?"

The question made you jolt and you looked at him with a choked laugh. You laugh only made him more upset but he tried to remain calm

"am I hot? Yknow like sexy and everything like that?"

"ax, you're adorable! So cute! I mean you were pouting when those jerks were talking to me and it was just so cute!"

Cute...? Cute..?!

He snapped and hugged you close, his face mask had a zipper and you never did know what the purpose of that was but next thing you knew you felt a sharp pain on your neck along with something trickling down your shoulder

You winced in pain now trying to pull the male off but with no progress, when he did pull back he had blood all around his mouth

"treat me more seriously, you're mine. I won't let anyone else take you, come on let's go home..I'm not done marking you up"

A sense of fear hit you and you never felt this before, axis has always been your adorable boyfriend but this..was new.

Axis Definitely show you just how much he owned you when you two got home and it was something you definitely never forgot.

#yandere imagines #yandere #yandere ocs #oc imagines #oc x reader #yandere headcanons

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tobiosmilktea · 4 years ago

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Hi can i get a sugawara scenario where his s/o is a professional photographer so whenever they're together, they basically take pictures of him randomly mostly candid and whenever they visit him at work and take a picture of him playing with kids i think that's cute as hell! Don't you agree??? Or is it just me?!

picture perfect — sugawara koshi

838 words | genre/s: fluff and fluff | warning/s: — | pairing: sugawara x gn!reader

you rest your head on the palm of your hand, watching your boyfriend teach his adorable little class of preschoolers as they sat in a disarrayed semi-circle around him.

initially, you were hired to take the school’s yearbook photos, but the administration seemed to like your photography company so much that they don’t really mind having you come visit from time to time. it wasn’t like your relationship with sugawara was entirely a secret, in fact, the majority of the staff in the school found out about it after your first time coming to the school.

the rumor spread like wildfire amongst the teachers. sugawara, being the one of the younger and more attractive side, already had the spotlight on him the moment he was hired. and yet that attention only seemed to increase when yamazaki-sensei (the nosy third grade teacher) spotted the two of you getting out of the same car together. curse your boyfriend with his infamous silvery hair and tall figure.

perhaps it was his charm that you admired so much that caused the winding rumors to suddenly dissipate into thin air. well... that and the fact that sugawara did in fact confirm it in the teacher’s office with amiable confidence. granted, why wouldn’t he be proud of being with you? if anything, it gives him a chance to flex his significant other and have the other, younger teachers from hitting on him all the time.

so now here you were, all dazed under the afternoon sun rays that peeked through the windows. the school day was coming to an end as sugawara was reading his students one last book before packing up.

your fingers daintily fiddled with the camera in your hands, simply distracted and inevitably drawn to the children’s book as well. you had to admit that your boyfriend was amazing with kids. he’d be such a great father that your cheeks were heating just by the thought it.

a content sigh escapes your lips as you turn your camera on again and pointing it towards the class. usually in moments like this when you whipped out your camera, all the children’s attention would snap towards you and smile. however, their eyes were forever trained to sugawara as he read aloud.

you snapped a photo.

looking down onto the screen, you immediately found yourself zooming into your boyfriend, forcing yourself to hold back a giggle as his expression made your smile widen.

your thumb traced over the arrow buttons as you took in the photo for a few more seconds before going to the next picture.

it was another photo of your boyfriend, yet this time it was a candid photo during your date to a festival last weekend. you admired how the camera picked up the intricate patterns of sugawara’s yukata as he bit into his takoyaki, the lantern lights casting the perfect shadows upon his face.

you pressed the arrow button again. it was yet another candid of him, but this time it was in his car with his arm over the steering wheel while the other was placed on the back of the passenger’s seat. his eyes were cast behind him as you took this whilst he was putting the car in reverse. it wasn’t the most impressive photograph, yet sugawara was just too handsome for you to delete it.

perhaps you had to confess that the majority of the photos that were in your camera was of your boyfriend, however, you couldn’t really bring yourself to shoot anyone else. there was something about sugawara’s contagious aura of marmalade and wild berries that your cheeks aching from smiling so much.

you went to the next photo.

it was taken a few months ago in the spring, where the pink sakura petals rained down from the very tops of the trees from the bearing seasonal breeze. there sugawara stood in the middle of the park, surrounded by cherry blossoms with cerulean skies that almost looked synthetic. he was looking up at the sky, eyes closed with a visage that was calm yet basically unreadable.

this was your favorite photo of him.

nothing could beat the fact that inkling feeling in your gut when you snapped this photo that even after the sound of the lens shuttering subsided, sugawara still held that same position—as if he was waiting for something to catch up.

you remembered this day as if it was the back of your hand. from the way the crisp air nipped at your tinted cheeks to the way your heart threatened to jump out of your chest when you watched sugawara get on one knee.

it was your favorite photo of him because it was the day he proposed to you.

and you would never change it for the world.

“(y/n)?” sugawara’s voice calls out to you, breaking you out of your thoughts as you looked up from the camera. your eyes scanned the empty classroom, “are you ready to go? class ended already.”

you nod, “of course i am.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #sugawara koshi #sugawara x reader #sugawara scenarios #sugawara imagines #sugawara fluff #haikyuu sugawara #hq sugawara

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jadeaffliction · 4 years ago

Text

Part 2 of Ruined (Rowaelin Drabble)

Part 1 here

Warnings | Unedited (I will edit later), mentions the death of a child, angst.

Aelin pressed her cheek to the bar, the warmth leeching from her skin, trying to stop her head spinning. The world around her blurred in and out of focus and the longer she lay there the less inclined she felt to move. The taste of salt lingered along the seam of her lips from the tequila shots she had thrown back earlier in the night, sickness twisting her stomach.

The sudden press of cool fingertips against her temple had her shooting up in her seat, “Aelin,” Rowan said gently, easing her to her feet.

Aelin found herself transfixed by the spot between his shoulder and neck as he looped an arm around her waist, the urge to press her lips to the sensitive skin there was stifling.

She knew how he would react, Rowan would bow his head allowing her more skin and twine his fingers through the soft strands of hair at the nape of her neck and whisper softly into her ear, almost purring. Aelin sighed drunkly, snuggling against his chest.

“Are you Rowan?” The bartender asked, the ice in his cocktail shaker rattling obnoxiously loud. Rowan nodded, taking Aelins phone from him, “she’s been asking for you.” Rowan smiled halfheartedly, slipping the strap of her bag round his neck.

“Let’s go home baby,” Aelin murmured into his shirt, inhaling the familiar scent of his detergent, oh how she missed this.

Rowan was quick to lead her from the bar, keeping a modest hand on her back until they reached where he had parked his car. He helped her into the front and crossed round to the drivers seat.

“What the hell are you doing?” He growled once he was in the car.

Aelin shrugged turning to face him with heavy lidded eyes, her hand coming to rest on his thigh, Rowan made no move to start driving, his hands wrapped in a white knuckled grip around the steering wheel, the gold wedding band still decorating his hand.

Aelin glanced down at her bare finger and clenched her fist. “You didn’t have to pick me up,” her words slurred slightly and Rowans head slumped back against the head rest, eyes squeezing shut.

“Of course I did.”

“I didn’t mean to take you away from your family,” Rowan let out a tired breath and his hand sought out hers, fingers wrapping delicately around her own.

“You are my family Aelin.”

She choked on a sob, wrenching her hand back from Rowan, “I’m not.” He let out another sighed breath, started the car and began to pull out of the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home,” panic started to bubble up in her chest, she couldn’t go back to that empty house, she couldn’t be alone there not with all the memories.

“Can I stay at yours tonight Ro?” She paused to steady her voice, “please I can’t go back there.” He agreed without taking his eyes off the road.

Aelin studied his side profile as they drove, the slope and bump of his nose, the hard line of his jaw, unfairly long lashes and the dark shadows under his bloodshot eyes. She longed to reach out a brush the hair off his forehead, to run her fingers through it, to trace the shape of his lips with her index finger like she used too. But she wouldn’t, even drunk she knew she would only be further torturing herself.

Eventually they pulled into the parking lot of Rowans apartment complex, from there it was a short walk to the elevator.

The ride up to his floor was silent, Aelin kept to the farthest corner and pretended not to notice Rowan watching her like a hawk.

Beginning now to sober up, she stood awkwardly to one side while he unlocked his flat.

He glanced sideways at her and swung the door open, gesturing for her to head in first. Once they were both inside he locked the door and turned back to her. “I’ll get you a glass of water, wait in the living room.”

Aelin headed into the living room and perched on the edge of his sofa, surveying the room. It was simply decorated, a box of children’s toys pushed into one corner was the most colourful thing in the room. Aelin had to close her eyes, bile rising in her throat, the room suddenly too warm.

“Aelin are you alright?” Rowan asked, rushing to her side, placing the glass of water down on the coffee table. Unable to speak she made a whimper like sound and pushed away from the sofa.

“Aelin what’s wrong?”

“This is what’s wrong!” she screamed, whirling on him, gesturing to their surroundings, “it’s like nothings happened, like he never happened.” Understanding dawned on his face, followed closely by anger.

“How dare you drag me out in the middle of the night and then come into my house and insult how I’m dealing with our sons death.” He stepped closer, leaning down to get in her face, “Just because I’m not out poisoning myself every night doesn’t mean I’m not grieving.”

She laughed, placing her hands on his chest and shoving, “No Rowan the reason you aren’t grieving is because you’ve already got the replacement, it’s easy to move on when you already have another kid to fill his space with.”

He stepped back and shook his head as if in disbelief, “You know that’s not true,” his breath ragged, “you can’t believe that Aelin.”

Aelin did, she knew that Rowan had loved Rudy just as much as she did but it wasn’t the same, he wasn’t alone in his grief like her. He still had Grace, his daughter and maybe even Lyria and Aelin had no one. No one who had lost everything as she had.

“I don’t know what to believe, all I know is that my son is dead and I’m alone.” She clapped her hand over her mouth to try and quieten the loud sobs that tore from her chest, “My baby’s dead and I can’t go home because I don’t have one anymore, not without him and not without you.” Her legs crumpled beneath her and she dropped to the floor, sobbing into her hands.

Rowan approached slowly and knelt beside her, wrapped both his arms around Aelins shaking shoulders and pulled her into his lap. She felt his own tears begin dampen her hair. “Aelin I’m sorry that you’ve been feeling this way but I loved our son and I would never try to replace him.”

Aelin hiccuped and pulled a little out of his arms so she could look him in the eye. “I know.”

He cupped her cheeks, drying her tears with his shirt sleeve, “And for the record you are never without me.”

She snorted, wiping her nose on the back of her arm unattractively, Rowan gave her a watery smile, “I mean it Aelin I’m always here, whenever you need someone to talk to about Rudy or anything else, always.”

Aelin stared into his eyes, tired, green and bloodshot, but looking at her with such emotion it made her want to curl in on herself.

Instead she leaned in and pressed her mouth against his, her fingers resting on the pulse at his throat.

For a moment he made no movement to kiss her back but as she went to pull away his hand slid into her hair pulled her back.

His lips were soft and needy, little groans escaping him as she settled into a straddling position. Aelin opened her mouth to him, his tongue sweeping languidly in, their teeth scraping as she leaned closer, pressing herself fully against him.

Closer still wasn’t close enough, she wanted to sink into him, to crawl under his skin and never leave.

If the way that Rowans hands pulled and gripped at her hips were any tell, he felt the same.

As she reached to unzip his jeans, her mouth open and panting directly into Rowans, he pulled away, a tendril of spit still connecting them. His hands moved hers away from his zipper. “Not now baby, not after all this time while you’re drunk and not on the floor.”

Aelin huffed disappointedly but agreed, disentangling from him, Rowan held onto her gently by the wrist and drew her towards his room, past the locked blue door marked Rudy and the lilac one next to it.

Aelins breath stuttered and Rowan as if sensing her discomfort tucked her under his arm and hurried into his bedroom.

Together they sank onto the matress and Rowan reached with one arm over to his beside table and brought a framed photograph of her, Rudy and him in front of them.

It was around three years old and was taken on Rudy’s third birthday. In it Aelin was sat between Rowans legs with Rudy on her lap, Rowans chin was resting on Aelins shoulder and Rudy was looking up at the two of them with a toothy smile, cake smeared around his mouth, his blond hair in a tiny braid.

Aelins traced over him, tears welling up again in her eyes, “I miss him so much that it hurts and it feels like I’ll never be okay again.”

Rowan kissed her temple, placed the photo on chest and curled his body around Aelin. “It won’t ever be ok and it won’t ever stop hurting,” he whispered against her neck, his breath tickling her skin, “but eventually it won’t hurt as much, and you’ll be able to think about him without crying and you’ll be able to smile instead.”

Aelin didn’t respond but she hugged the photo to her chest even as the wooden corners dug painfully into her skin.

“And I can promise you Aelin that I will always be here, that you will never be alone.”

Aelin turned onto her side and nuzzled into Rowans chest, her tears wetting his shirt, he circled both his arms around her and pressed a wet kiss to her forehead. “Always,” he whispered into the dark.

Once he had fallen asleep and she could hear the steady rythym of his breathing and the drum of his heart against her hand, she whispered back.

“Always.”

I am open to writing more in this AU if anyone is interested :) but anyways I kind of gave you a happy ending. Bittersweet I’d say.

#rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass au #tog fanfic #tog au #aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin angst #rowaelin au #ruinedpart2 #child death implied

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sophielovesbarnes · 5 years ago

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All or Nothing

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Winchester!reader

Warnings: none yet

Author note: Hello! ❤️ so this idea has been running on my mind for months and I hadn’t brought myself to write it, but due to the COVID my classes are cancelled which has me with a lot of spare time in my hands.

The story will make a kind of crossover with Supernatural, pretty much I will be using some of the characters in a AU.

Please let me know what do you think and dm me if you want to be tagged.

Chapter one.

You’ve always loved this; the adrenaline that rushes through your veins when you are thrown into the air and you fly so high that it feels like you are going to touch the stars, the excitement that fills you with every jump, the rush you get when you listen to the joyful voices that surround you, cheering every move you make, the smile on your teammates' faces that assures you that they are as passionate about this as you are.

These are the great things about being a cheerleader, things that not many people see or understand; you’ve been called vain, bimbo, basic, the thing is that you don’t people that have never felt this emotion will ever understand.

They won’t understand the sacrifices needed to get there, to make every move coordinated, the weeks of practice behind fifteen minutes on the stage; they wouldn’t understand the permanent calluses and blisters covering your feet and hands, feeling your muscles so weak as noodles after practice, the hours of training devoted everyday, the sweat, the blood and the tears; but those fifteen minutes, God, they made you feel like heaven.

After the music ends, signalling the end of the halftime you and your squad head back to the edge of the field, waving hello and throwing kisses back and forward.

When you finally reach your bench, you throw yourself to your water bottle and feel the relief of it’s cold contents hydrating your throat.

"It went well." Ingrid says, you can see her chest going up and down rapidly and short black hairs sticking to her sweaty forehead. "Truth be told I really thought I was gonna mess up that basket."

"Double kicks are a bitch." You agree and take one last sip from your water bottle, after you both catch your breath and both football teams are on their spot ready to start the next time you put down your bottle and grab your pom poms, preparing yourself to keep everyone's spirits up until the end of the game. "Ready?"

"Let’s do this." She smiles, and you both go back to position chanting and cheering for your team.

Forty-five minutes later, the crowd erupts into claps and screams when your team scores their last touchdown making them victors of this game, the squad jumps into hugs celebrating your victory.

The game is over and everyone starts to abandon the bleachers, so you take your bag and head to the locker rooms followed by the rest of the team, discussing what went well and wrong on the routine, the pre-spring break stress that’s building up, how cute the linebreaker looked, but mostly everyone is talking about the upcoming celebration party.

When you get to your locker, you untie your ponytail, letting your head recover it’s proper blood flow, you get undressed, carefully folding your uniform and proceed to step into the shower. The hot water loosens up your muscles and brings you to a sleepy point of relaxation. You finish showering and step out, wrapping your body with a fluffy white towel.

"Are you sure you’re not going to Liam’s party?" A tall brunette girl asks as she walks behind you. “It’s the event of the year.”

"Thanks Alice but I really want to attend the FBI lecture tomorrow and a hangover would keep me from actually paying attention." You reply simply as you get dressed and pack the rest of your stuff into your bag.

"Well I’m sure Liam will miss you." She implies. "He was very enthusiastic about having you there."

"He’ll survive." You give her a playful smile and throw the strap of your bag over your shoulder. "Night girls see you tomorrow."

They reply almost in chorus and, you wave goodbye walking out from the locker room, spinning your car keys on your finger. The parking lot is almost empty, most people are either back on their dorm rooms or on their way to Liam’s party, so the way back to your apartment is peaceful, just the sound of the wheels rolling on the road and the wind running through the windows.

Originally you lived on the dorm rooms like most of the squad, but at the beginning of this school year your brothers had surprised you buying an apartment just for you, quoting Dean's words it was easier to concentrate on your own space and you deserved a nice and private place to live, after all, you had a full scholarship ride so you didn’t have to worry about paying tuition.

Truth be told, you really liked the apartment; the building is fifteen minutes away from your school, and your neighbors are nice and quiet. When you first got the place, you, Dean, Sam, and Adam had spent an entire weekend painting the walls, decorating and equipping the place so it could fit all your necessities.

The kitchen is right next to the entrance door, behind it it’s the living room, there’s only one loveseat and the tv is in front of it, there are photographs everywhere, your brothers are on the most of them, there’s one from your first competition, you are sitting on Dean’s shoulders, holding high the trophy you and your squad won, Sam and Adam hugging Dean from each side, there’s one from your graduation, the KU game where Dean finally decided to introduce you to and your brothers to Castiel, next to it is the one from their wedding, there’s also one from your prom where you and your ex where crowned king and queen for the last time; you still keep the crown and the band displayed on your room.

You love the apartment, even though you live alone and far from Kansas and your brothers, they made it feel like home.

You leave your keys and your bag next to the door and then head to your bedroom where you strip out of your clothes and put on your pjs, you fall asleep the second your head touches the pillow.

The next morning your alarm starts beeping exactly at 6 o’clock, you have made a cocoon in the blankets that’s so warm and comfortable that you refuse to move, but eventually the beeping sound off the alarm becomes unbearable and you know for a fact that if you don’t get up from your bed soon you are going to be late for class; so you begrudgingly get up from the bed and slam the button of the alarm turning it off.

One hour later your hair and your makeup are neatly done, you have replaced your pajamas with jeans and a white bustier with puff sleeves, and you are ready to step out if the door, bag on one hand and coffee on the other one.

When you get to the auditorium, your best friend Maia is already there saving a seat for you, you distinguish her from her curly hair and her cinnamon skin, she smiles at you when she sees you.

“You’re late.” You drop your bag on the chair next to her and then take a seat.

“My bed and I were too comfortable together this morning.”

“I getcha.” She replies, her New York accent marked on her words. “Are you excited?”

“Totally, I’ve been looking towards this lecture for weeks.”

A few minutes later three men step on the stage, accompanied by the principal, there’s a man in his sixties, with black hair and a kind smile, you know he is David Rossi, you have re-read his book over and over since you were little. There’s also a bald black man, and you can almost see his muscles through his shirt.

But the third man is the one who has your complete attention.

You’re completely fascinated with him from the second he steps into the podium, there’s something on his messy brown hair, his shy smile, and the way he fidgets nervously with his fingers that makes your heart flutter.

A few moments later the room starts to fill and when every seat is taken the older man takes a spot on the podium and clears his throat.

“Good morning, I am Agent David Rossi, and these are my partners, agent Derek Morgan and Doctor Reid.” He points at each of the men and they both give a courteous nod.

“Research, casework, and training to hunt down monsters, rapists, terrorists, pedophiles, and our specialty, serial killers.” Agent Rossi turns his back and lets agent Morgan continue.

“Does anybody here know what a serial killer is and what makes it different from a spree killer or a mass murderer?” He asks, and you raise your hand almost immediately, he grants you the word and you smile.

“A mass murderer is someone who kills four or more people on the same location and on the same time period, spree killers murder two or more victims on different locations and they don’t have a cooling period.” You reply. “Serial killers have three or more victims; they usually select the victim with anticipation and there is a cooling period between each murder.”

“It’s very good, by statue three is the magic number, and it’s actually more qualitative than quantitative for us.”

“Today we’re gonna talk about how some serial killers get made.” Rossi continues, “Because if you can understand that, then you can figure out a way to catch them.”

After that Morgan proceeds to introduce two girls, both victims of the same serial killer; whom as Rossi describes as the most prolific killer they’ve had.

“One thing you should understand is that no two killers are the same, they each occupy their own point on the behavioral spectrum.” After listening to agent’s Reid’s rapid voice, you officially consider yourself a goner. “Genetics, brain chemistry, psychology, and environment are all factors.”

“We believe that this particular killer grew up in an environment so adverse that he never had a chance.” Morgan adds. “He endured years of cruel and abject physical abuse as well as horribly profound psychological abuse.”

“Now let me be clear, most abused kids do not turn into killers, but this particular unknown subject, or unsub suffered extreme abuse and it has everything to do with why he does what he does.” Agent Rossi explains, after that they project the images from the unsub’s murder scenes and they give the details of his MO.

“I’m gonna be sick.” Maia whispers to you as she covers her eyes and retreats into her seat to avoid watching the gruesome pictures displayed on the wall.

When they finish explaining the case, sharing the details and the profiling process they open the podium for questions, again you are the first and only one to raise your hand.

“Yes? Miss…”

“Winchester.” You complete “So, you said that not all abused kids become killers, but what is the breaking point where some of them do and some don’t?”

“The majority of the most prolific and dangerous serial killers were genetically disposed to behave antisocially and furthermore grew up in an environment that cultivated a disregard for the lives of others.” Agent Reid answers “One gene in particular is linked with an increased risk of violent or aggressive behavior; monoamine oxidase A, it controls the production of a protein that breaks down brain-signaling chemicals like dopamine, noradrenalin, and serotonin, which all influence mood, there’s a variant of the gene called MAOA-L, it causes people to produce less

of the protein that breaks down these signaling chemicals, which in turn causes them to build up. An excess of these chemicals, leads to impulsive behavior; such as hypersexuality, sleep disorders, mood swings, and violent tendencies.

“So it can be inherited?”

“The heritability of the antisocial personality disorder is estimated to be 0.38. Heritability is the proportion of differences in traits in a population that are due to genetic differences as opposed to differences in the environment. A heritability of 0.38 tells us that, on average, about 38 percent of the individual differences that we observe in degree of “sociability” or “anti-sociability" are in some way attributable to individual genetic differences.”

“Thank you.” You smile at him, and you can swear there’s a pink blush coloring his cheeks as he smiles back at you.

There are just a couple more questions, most of them directed to morbid curiosity about the case, when they are done answering, agent Rossi opens an invitation to all the attendees to join the FBI, which brings a query about the requirements and the preparation his team had; again, Spencer is the one who answers.

“Most of us have done extensive postgraduate work in areas such as abnormal psychology, and sociology, as well as an intensive study of relative casework and existing literature.” He keeps his hands in the pocket of his navy blue pants.

“But that is after the selection to the unit, first you have to be an agent, work in a field, and that’s what we are here to talk about.” Spencer retreats himself to the back of the stage, almost leaning against the wall. “For that, the academics are wide open, everyone in this room, once you graduate; regardless of your course study; is eligible to apply to the FBI.”

“What did you study?” The guy wearing the Cardinals hoodie, sitting two rows behind you asks.

“Criminal justice, but sports appreciation was all full up at my Community College.” There’s a soft general laugh, but you can’t take your eyes from the Doctor.

“And you Doctor Reid?” You ask, looking him straight in the eyes. “What did you study?”

“I-I hold doctorates in Chemistry, Mathematics and Engineering, as well as BAs in psychology and sociology.”

“You’re drooling.” Maia mocks in a whispered tone, causing you to blush.

“Shut it.” You whisper as you try to slow down your heart rhythm. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-four as of last month, thirty-four; I, I also completed an additional BA in Philosophy, which reminds me that I have a joke.” He chuckles nervously and keeps talking “How many existentialists take to screw in a lightbulb? Two, one to change the lightbulb and one to observe how it symbolizes an incandescent beacon of subjectivity in another world of cosmic nothingness.”

You giggle softly, but the rest of the room seems to remain silent, Maia looks at you with an eyebrow raised like she is trying to figure you out.

“It’s fun, you know? Because that’s what existentialists do.” You explain on a murmur.

The silence of the spectators makes Spencer shift timidly and he starts to speak again, trying to explain the joke when he gets cut off by agent Rossi.

“Okay, before he does his Quantum Physics knock-knock joke.” This is what makes the class laugh while you stay quiet “Do we have any other questions about opportunities in the FBI?”

There are only a couple more questions, and when the lecture is over Morgan and Rossi find themselves surrounded by curious students, and girls fussing over them, Spencer stays alone and he starts to pack his things on his bag, you take a deep breath and make your way down towards him.

“That was really interesting.” Your voice seems to startle him, he turns around and runs his fingers through his hair messing it up just a bit more. “I really enjoyed it.”

“Uh thanks, Miss Winchester.”

“Y/N is fine.”

“Y/N.” He repeats and changes his weight from one foot to the other. “You seemed interested in the BAU.”

“I am, I mean, I still have a couple years left in college but joining the FBI does sound interesting.”

“Well, if you have any more doubts, you can... you know, call.” He hands you a white card with the FBI emblem on it, as well as his name and phone number; you take the card without breaking eye contact and give him a coy smile.

“Will do.”

A/N: so that’s it, please let me know what do you think ❤️

#supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #winchester!reader #winchester!sister #dean winchester #sam winchester #adam milligan #castiel #winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #reid x reader #spencer reid #dr reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader

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cilldaracailin · 4 years ago

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These Are The Days Of Our Lives

Hello my Tumblr lovely’s.

Hope everyone is having a good Saturday :)

Here is the next part of this story.

Suze xx

“Friendship is the purest love.”

They sat in silence for the remainder of the journey, Anthony breaking the easy quiet by letting them know they had arrived at Taron’s secret destination. Robyn moved to look out the window and then looked back to Taron.

“You serious?” She asked.

“Yep.”

“The Savoy?”

Robyn moved to look out the window once more and at the beautiful stone building that was in front of her, the large glass Savoy sign as clear as day, the gold statue of the solider on top, the flags either side. It was refined and glamourous and the gold details alone on the outside of the building were expensive and stunning. She looked back to Taron as Anthony moved to get out of the car. “What have you been planning?” She asked him, only getting a wink and smile in return.

Their door was opened and Taron just shrugged his shoulders. “One more minute to wait chicken.” He got out of the car and held his hand out for Robyn to take, helping her from the car. He held onto her hand as Anthony closed the car door.

“Just give me a call Taron and I will be with you.”

“Thanks Anthony.”

“Thank you Anthony.”

“You are more than welcome Miss Quinn.”

Robyn’s face stayed in a frown for a moment as the black car drove away and she was left standing with Taron in the entrance of one of the most beautiful hotels in London.

“So, do I get to know now what the surprise is?” She asked Taron who wore the biggest grin, his eyes bright, his dimples deep in his cheeks. “What is that grin for. Oh God Taron what have you planned?” Robyn’s frown remained on her face.

“Why don’t you turn around and see.” He simply replied to her.

With some hesitation but seeing Taron’s trusting face, Robyn turned on her heels, a little slowly. She felt Taron’s hands on her shoulders, moving her body in the direction he wanted to her look and past the hedges on the opposite side of the road, stood someone very familiar. Robyn felt the frown melting from her face and turned very quickly to look at Taron who gave her one simple nod, his face still smiling. Giving him a smile back, Robyn took to a jog, checking the road before she crossed, her pace increasing as she reached the hedges and almost jumped into Richard’s arms.

“I hear it is someone’s birthday!” He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around Robyn, giving her a tight cuddle back.

“That’s just a rumour going around.” She replied with a laugh.

“A rumour?” Richard repeated.

“Yep. My birthday was on Wednesday.”

“Don’t listen to her. This whole weekend is her birthday.” Taron had watched the reunion from afar with a grin and slowly made his way across the road. He had been speaking to Richard as he always would, keeping up to date with each other, when he had told his Scottish friend that Robyn was coming to London for her birthday and Richard had immediately asked if he could meet them, knowing he was going to be around, giving Taron a simple idea for a birthday present for their favourite and most treasured friend. Since Florida, the trio had seen each other once and that was at Elton’s auction back in October and since then it was a very quick phone or skype call, Richard and Robyn texting each other over the last few months too, that kept them in contact but they had only ever seen each other physically once in the last nine months.

Robyn turned her head to look at Taron and then giving her attention back to Richard, gave him another squeeze before letting him go. She smiled as Richard kissed her two cheeks before he let her go. “Happy birthday.”

Robyn turned and stood beside Richard, the two facing Taron. “You couldn’t have wrapped Richard?” She asked him, smiling.

Taron laughed. “Didn’t really have the time chicken.”

“Chicken?” Richard asked raising an eyebrow at his friend. “You are still calling her chicken?”

Taron grinned. “Yeah it kinda stuck.”

Richard looked to Robyn who just shrugged. “It stuck. I don’t mind it. So if Richard is my birthday present, then I approve.” Robyn winked to Taron, whose smile faded a little.

“He isn’t exactly a present.” Taron replied with a little hint of sulkiness to his voice. “But is part of the present and this is all on him. I just had to get you here.”

Robyn stepped forward closer to Taron. “You are not leaving are you?” She turned to Richard. “Not that I don’t love seeing you Richard, you know I do but…” Her words trailed off, looking to Taron once more.

“My present to you involves all three of us.” Richard said, not feeling anyway put out by the fact that Robyn was worried Taron was going to leave. He knew about and understood the connection they both had with each other, already seeing how different they moved around each other since the last time he saw them together. “But before that, this is for you.” He pulled a wrapped gift from the inside of his coat pocket. “Happy birthday.” Handing the present out to Robyn, he nodded for her to take it. “Come on, presents are mandatory on birthdays.”

Robyn took the beautifully wrapped red and gold present from him. “Richard…”

“Taron was right.” Richard stood beside his friend and nudged him.

“About?”

“You are not good accepting gifts but give so many willingly.”

Robyn titled her head a little, a light sigh coming from her whole body. “I am just not used to this, that’s all. I get a card from my parents and Claire would buy me something but this…” She gestured to the two men in front of her. “It’s just new.”

“Open the present Robyn.” Taron instructed her, knowing she was getting ready for another one of her wonderfully long-winded sentences that normally only ended when he hugged her.

Looking to the rectangle gift, Robyn gave in and pulled at the tape at the top of the present and when she saw something red inside, her whole face lit up. She ripped the wrapping right down the middle and her smile grew. “Thank you Richard.”

“Those are for you. Not to be shared with him.”

“Deal.”

“Hey!” Taron protested. “I always share my turtles with you.”

Robyn looked to the Welshman and give him a wink. “Sorry rocketman. These are mine.”

“Rocketman?” Richard grinned. “Oh dear God no. That stuck too? I am so glad we have the time to actually catch up with each other. I feel I have missed a whole lot.”

Robyn put the two packets of turtles in her bag and took a step over to Richard so she could him again. “Thank you. My own personal turtle dealer.”

Richard chuckled. “Be careful how you word that Robyn or don’t say it too loud.” He kissed her cheek again before ending the hug.

Robyn took a small step away from him. “So I am presuming that we are not going to have our catch up here and Taron said this was on you?” She pointed to the entrance of the Savoy. “Can you tell me now what is going on please?”

“We are bringing you for afternoon tea here at the Savoy.” Taron finally explained.

“We?” Richard asked with a half-smile.

“Ok fine. Richard wanted to bring you to afternoon tea for your birthday and I am just tagging along as the third wheel.” Taron replied, his tone playfully grumpy.

Robyn smiled, suddenly quite excited for her birthday surprise. “I love afternoon tea and to have it with my two favourite celebs? Bonus!” She stepped forward so she stood in between the two of them. “So which way to cake and tea.” While she hooked her arm around right Richard’s elbow, she slipped her left hand into Taron’s right and linked her fingers with his, giving them a firm squeeze, so glad to feel one back.

“Lead the way Richard. This is your gift to her.” Taron gestured with his left hand towards the doors of the hotel.

“Happy to do so.” He placed his hand over Robyn’s on his arm then letting her arm slip from his, started to walk toward the entrance of the hotel. Robyn kept her hand tight in Taron’s as they followed behind.

“I have told you before, jealously does not suit you.” She whispered to him.

“Not jealous.” Taron answered her.

“Could have fooled me.” She replied, giving his hand one more squeeze before letting his hand go and catching up with Richard just a few paces in front of them. His heart was thumbing heart and could feel that all too familiar heat rising to his cheeks as he watched Robyn and Richard chat to each other, their happy voices drifting back to him. He shook his head and internally told himself he was being dramatic and caught up with his friends.

It was a swivel wooden door that met them and Robyn thanked Richard as he stood back to let her go first and with a fixed smile on her face, walked into the revolving door once there was an opening and grinned as the door turned itself and she didn’t have to move it. Her smile grew as she was greeted by a smartly dressed man in a top hat, welcoming her to the Savoy and she stepped into the open spaced lobby, walking a few paces so she could take everything in. She had only ever seen the hotel in pictures or on TV and the only way to appreciate the grandness of the hotel was by actually seeing it in her person. The black and white check floor was gleaming in the light of the chandeliers above, the wooden features all around dotted with artwork and photographs. To her right some elegant mis-matched furniture was placed, guests sitting on the patterned couches chatting. In front her was a large white archway, a set of stairs leading down into another beautiful part of the hotel, a stunning large arrangement of pink flowers right in the middle of the lower floor.

As Robyn took in the hotel inside, Richard had let Taron into the glass turning doors first but joined him quickly so the two walked slowly together into the hotel.

“You wanna relax there a bit rocketman?” Richard said to Taron, a hint of teasing to his voice. “I am not trying to step on your toes. I know you walk on air around her.” His friend looked to him, guilt all over his face. “And besides, she only has eyes for you.”

The two walked into the lobby together, coming to stand behind Robyn as she looked all around and Taron placed a hand on Richard’s shoulder, giving him a thank you look with his eyes, Richard giving his friend a wink.

“I don’t think I dressed fancy enough. Should have pulled out the fancy fancy clothes.” Robyn felt the boys behind her and turned to them. “This is beautiful.”

Richard nodded. “Definitely a must visit when in London.”

“I have been to London so many times and never been in here let alone seen the outside.”

“Prefer a Premier Inn, right?” Taron asked with a laugh.

“Most comfortable out there.” Robyn agreed.

“Welcome to the Savoy.” A gentleman dressed in a black suit and crisp white shirt approached the three of them. “How may I help you this afternoon?”

“I have an afternoon tea booking at twelve thirty for three under Richard Madden?”

“Of course sir. If you would like to follow me to our Thames Foyer where our tea is set.”

The gentleman led the way down the steps under the archway and turned right, going through another set of doors into another beautifully designed room. The black and white check tiles still spanned the floor, the walls were covered in a decorative cream and red wallpaper and on the table in the middle, an arrangement of orange flowers.

“The receptionist will look after you from here.”

“Thank you.”

While Richard stood speaking with the lady behind the wooden desk, Robyn wandered around the room, taking in the artwork on the walls, hearing the happy chatter of those in the hotel.

“Did you have a hard time keeping this quiet?” She asked Taron as he came to stand beside her.

“A bit but I know Richard wanted it to be a surprise and the look on your face was worth it. I know it’s so hard for the three of us to see each other and we really never have had a chance to sit and talk together since Florida. I know your birthday is probably not the right time but he wanted to see you and give you a birthday present.”

“It’s the perfect time.” She assured him. “I am looking forward to the company and little cakes and tea. So much better than typical food.”

“Robyn you don’t even drink tea.”

She smiled turning to him. “At afternoon tea I do and you get to have some coffee.”

“I think I will have tea too and seriously, you drink the tea?”

“Cups of it.”

“Robyn, Taron? We’re good to go.”

On hearing Richard’s voice, they waked back over to him and the three followed the receptionist back the way they came and towards the room used for afternoon tea. Wide and spacious, the room was bright with white walls and a very high ceiling, a dome right in the centre letting the natural day light in. Underneath the dome, was a steel ornate gazebo, a grand piano in the centre in which a man was seated playing easy listening music to all the guests enjoying their high tea. Along the walls at measured intervals were mirrored archways A soft navy carpet with intricate white detail covered the floor and as Robyn walked behind the boys, she was able to take all the details in and admire the matching tables and chairs, each nicely spaced away from each other so all the guests had sufficient space from others. She did notice the few stares that came her way but knew they were more so for the two wonderful men in front of her and was so glad to see that their table was nicely placed in a corner, a table for four, prepared for three diners.

“Please take a seat. Your server with be with you shortly. Enjoy your tea.”

“Thank you.”

Taron and Robyn took the two chairs on the inside against the wall, while Richard choose the seat opposite Robyn, all taking their coats off and getting settled at their table.

“This place is gorgeous.” Robyn said. “Have you been here before?” She asked them.

“I have been inside the hotel but never stayed here.” Richard said.

“Same for me.”

A spotlessly dressed waiter walked over their table. “Good afternoon and welcome to the Thames Foyer. My name is James and I am going to be your server this afternoon. Along with our traditional afternoon we also have a selection of teas or coffee. Our teas include English breakfast, rosehip, earl grey and others which can be viewed on our menu on the table. We also a various coffee selection too. There wasn’t any request on the booking for a tea for an allergy but I just want to make sure one isn’t needed?”

“None needed.” Richard confirmed.

“Great. Well, I will give you a moment to look at the tea menu.”

As the server walked away from the table, they picked up the tea menu, Robyn briefly glancing at the words before dropping her menu back down.

“That quick huh?” Taron asked.

“Good old breakfast tea it will have to be as they don’t have Irish tea on the menu.”

“For someone who doesn’t drink tea, you are very particular. Isn’t tea tea?”

Robyn grinned. “I am an avid sponsor of everything Irish.”

Taron was desperate to answer with a reply of ‘me too’ but managed to hold it in, trying to concentrate on the menu, choosing his own drink.

“I am going to stick with the old breakfast tea as well but wonder if they could bring some coffee over too.” Richard mused.

“I was thinking the same.” Taron agreed. “I definitely need some coffee.”

“Filming that bad huh?” Richard asked.

“Been tough, I am not going to lie.” Taron looked to his friend. “The script is challenging, the words hard to say, to act and the reactions on screen so far haven’t really needed to be acted out much to be honest. They are so very real.”

“The effort will be worth it in the end.”

“That’s what I keep telling him.” Robyn nodded in agreement with Richard.

“Always here if you need a chat mate.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him too!”

“And you should always listen to a woman. They know best.”

“Strangely enough, I have been telling him that too.” Robyn gave Richard a wink.

“Especially one that got you up and running again.”

No-one got the chance to reply to Richard truthful words as their waiter returned. “So what can get you all to drink?”

“I will just have your Savoy breakfast tea.” Robyn said handing the tea menu over.

“I will have the same please.” Richard was happy for the simple choice of tea.

“I will go with the Savoy breakfast tea as well but would be possible to get some coffee too?” Taron asked.

“Sure no problem at all. I can bring over a pot of coffee too with the teas.”

“That’s great. Thank you.”

“I will be back shortly with everything for you.”

Richard waited for the server to be out of ear-shot before he turned back to his friends. “So I very much brought the mood down quickly right? Sorry Robyn and on your birthday too.”

Robyn shook her head and reached over to take Richard’s hand. “Not at all. Taron and I were just saying in the car how close August is. I mean this time last year I was working in Clearwater. The months are going by so fast.”

“Do you think back on it much?” The Scotsman asked, deep blue eyes looking at her through long eyelashes, still holding her hand.

She nodded, not missing how Taron had turned his head to look her way. “A lot more last year then this year. Getting to see this one…” She gestured her head towards Taron. “Has helped a lot. Means I can check up on him, make sure he is ok but as we get closer to that year mark, what happened has been on my mind a lot more. A few bad dreams too.” Robyn completely avoided Taron’s gaze but felt his hand on her knee under the table. “Hard not to think about it Richard and we always will.”

“I am glad to hear you say that.” Richard gave her hand a squeeze. “Because I still think about it.” He closed his eyes and took a steadying breathe. “I can still hear the gun shot.” He looked to Taron. “Still see you under the shelf unconscious, all the blood.”

Robyn felt Taron move closer to her and didn’t miss how his left hand sneaked around her waist. It was a lovely comforting gesture and was glad of his soft touch because as soon as Richard said it, the image of Taron out cold under the metal shelf, a pool of red liquid around him came to her mind. “Me too Richard but then I think of how everything worked out ok. We all came out, perhaps a little battered and bruised, somewhat traumatised but we are all safe.”

“Thanks to you.” Richard said firmly.

“It was all of us, together.”

Taron gave her waist a squeeze. “Bullshit and you know that.” He said. “It was you who looked after us all and Richard, I feel it too. Jesus Richard every time I look in the mirror I see the scar on my head, even more so now with new hair.” He rolled his eyes a little. “And then I see the one on my arm and all I have to do is put my hand on my chest…” Taron took his hand from Robyn’s knee and put it over his heart on his shirt. “And it all comes back to me and it always will.” He reached over to cover Robyn and Richard still encased hands with his. “It will always be with us but with time as we know from the last few months, it gets easier. I think because it is getting closer to August, emotions and feelings are raw once again but we are here for each other when the dreams come back or when our minds start over thinking it all.”

“It’s not something we will ever forget or brush to the side.” Robyn agreed. “And I guess because Taron and I see each other more then I see you, it’s not as easy for you.”

Richard immediately shook his head. “Not at all. My friends and family have been amazing and I know you are only a phone call away. Just being back together for longer than ten minutes…” Richard trailed off. “Shit Robyn, not the way I wanted your birthday to be.”

Without even thinking Robyn stood up, Taron’s hand falling from her waist and she walked around to Richard, pulling on his hands, making him stand up and engulfed him in a tight hug, her arms wrapping tightly around his back. He was slightly taller than Taron, his shoulders not as broad but it was a cuddle and comfort she knew he needed and she didn’t care that they were in the middle of the afternoon tearoom. His eyes were sad and confused and she didn’t want him feeling anyway distressed about what happened so many months ago.

Taron watched on as Robyn gave Richard what could only be described as a very squishy hug. He was a little glad that her hands stayed on his back though and didn’t wander up to Richard’s neck and she tucked herself into him neatly, seeing his friend hug Robyn back firmly.

“You wouldn’t be human if you still didn’t get emotional over it all Richard. It was a horrible scary experience and believe me, I may look put together but I am not. Still get the flashes, the dreams are coming back and at times I still watch over Taron to make sure he is breathing when he is sleeping, just don’t tell Taron that.” She felt him finally relax against her. “Don’t be worrying about ruining anything. I am so glad to see you, to be able to sit down and actually have a chat and if the conversation rolls around to the 7/11 then that’s fine. It’s meant to be. It’s good to talk about it.”

“Still the overly concerned and logical Robyn.”

She laughed against him a little. “Some things don’t change.”

“Apart from the fact that this time, instead of looking after Taron, you are absolutely in love with him.” He whispered into her ear. “Don’t change.” He said a bit louder. “Thank you.”

“Now as much as I love getting a hug from you, ‘cos God only knows I owe you many, I think we should sit back down. People are now staring.”

“Thought you didn’t give a shit about what people think?”

“Someone has been gossiping with a certain Welshman!” She chuckled as she moved her face away from his chest. “And yes that is true but ya know, I can feel his eyes staring at me” She motioned to Taron, who was sitting back against the couch smiling.

“Don’t mind me. The longer you hug, the more cakes I get.”

“No more sad blue eyes ok?” Robyn placed her hands on Richard’s face gently. “Only smiling and laughing from now on.”

“Sure.”

Finally getting back to their seats, Robyn turned to Taron. “You need a hug now too?”

“Nah I am good.”

She smiled a little his way. “Really?”

“Well maybe a little one.”

Robyn moved to sit closer against him and leaned into his side, wrapping her right arm around his waist, giving his cheek a kiss, Taron closing his eyes as Robyn’s soft warm lips met his temple too before opening them to see Richard winking at him.

The waiter arrived back at their table, pushing an ornate gold serving trolley and Robyn grinned as it was laden down with their afternoon tea. She moved away from Taron to sit properly on her chair.

“So we have tea for three.” He placed three shining silver teapots on the table. “And one pot of coffee.” He added a glass percolator that was filled with steaming hot coffee to the table. “And for each of you…” The waiter very carefully placed three individual tiered china serving dishes in the middle of the table. “On our menu today we have selection of finger sandwiches. Starting from the left we Ayrshire ham with apple chutney on wholemeal bread, coronation chicken on a brioche roll, egg salad on white bread, smoked Scottish salmon with melted cheese on brown bread and a mozzarella and beef tomato on herb and spinach bread.” The server moved to gesture towards the second plate. “Next we have our freshly baked raisin and plain scones, warm from the oven accompanied with clotted cream, lemon curd and strawberry preserve.” He moved to the third and top china plate. “And finally our afternoon tea pastries. Again, from left to right we have a seasonal summer gateaux, hazelnut cake with salted caramel, mango and passion fruit jelly, black cherry bavarois, pineapple tart, a lemon meringue pie, a classic opera cake, a coffee butter cream biscuit, an éclair and a delicate fondant rose cake.” The waiter turned back to his serving tray and picked up two champagne glasses filled with sparkling gold liquid. “As it is a special occasion…” He placed a glass in front of Robyn and Taron and then picked another one from the tray and put it carefully beside Richard. “These are for you to celebrate a birthday.” He reached down and picked up a pristine white china plate decorated with gold flowers and put it in front of Robyn. “Happy birthday from all of us here at The Savoy. Now please enjoy. If you would like a refill of tea or any of the cakes please just ask.” Wheeling the trolley away, he left the three at the table with the treats.

Robyn looked down to her own special plate which held a stunning circular chocolate cake, coated in a shiny chocolate ganache, drizzles of white chocolate over it, gold leaf on top and the words ‘Happy Birthday Robyn’ wrote in chocolate on the plate itself. She looked to the boys who were both grinning. “Right ok, who told?”

“It might have slipped when I was booking the reservation when they asked was this a special occasion.” Richard said picking up his glass of champagne. “I do believe a toast is in order.” He waved his glass a little and when Robyn and Taron picked up their glasses he spoke again. “To Robyn on her birthday.”

“And to wonderful friends.” Robyn added quickly, the three tipping glasses off each other, all taking a sip.

“Right now coffee.” Taron reached for the coffee and poured it into the blue and white delicate flower decorated tea cup. “May need a few of these. Doesn’t hold much.”

“You need to switch to tea after one cup.” Robyn said as he handed the pot to Richard. She reached for the teapot nearest her and opening the lid, used the teaspoon to stir the liquid around, making sure she gave the tea bag inside a squeeze or two.

“One of these cups doesn’t even equal a normal coffee for me. It will have to be at least four.” Taron dropped a square sugar cube into his coffee, then added some milk.

“Richard thank you so much for this.” Robyn could hear her stomach rumbling as she looked at the delicious looking food in front of her. The pastries were colourful and bright, some dusted with glitter, some with intricate chocolate work and the ruby red flower on the cupcake was insane. Even the sandwiches were cut in perfect rectangles, all equal in size and height and the smells from the food in front of her was making her mouth water.

“You are more than welcome but I guess Taron and I benefit from it too.” Richard said picking a sandwich from the tray. “Growing men need to eat.”

Robyn chuckled as she closed the tea pot. “Well this is definitely suited to Taron then.”

Taron who was taking a sip from his coffee, looked to her mid sip, seeing the smile on her face. He put his cup down and wanted to give her smart answer but knew she was right. “I am very excited to get started.”

Using the plates to their left, the three happily munched through the sandwiches, talking about Taron’s and Richard filming and Robyn’s own work, laughter filling the air as they caught up with each other, not worrying when one of them brought up a memory from Florida, all three reminiscing about their time sitting on the floor on the check red blanket.

“I am still impressed by the first aid skills Robyn.” Richard said as he passed her a plain scone. “I can’t look at some salt without thinking about the water you made to clean up the cuts we had or how you used the ice and sandwich bags too.”

“I find it hard at times myself especially when I hear that one of the girls in work need a cold compress.” Robyn said as he cut her scone in two. “My mind goes back to the 7/11 a little but touch wood…” She gently touched her head and then looked to Taron who was adding some jam to his scone. “Taron was the last time I used those first aid skills. Only been some scrapped knees since.”

“I feel honoured.” The Welshman grinned taking a bite from his scone. “But don’t really want to find myself needing a home-made cold compress again.”

“Me neither.”

With the three teapots refilled, the third layer of china plates was taken down and Robyn sat back in her chair, feeling full.

“Giving up?” Taron asked her.

“So full.”

He gently poked her stomach. “Always leave room for dessert.” He chuckled.

“This whole tea is dessert!”

“Well we can bring it back to my flat and I can eat it later.”

“Not a chance in hell!” Robyn laughed pulling her plate of parties closer to her. “Mine. You have your own.” Thinking about the desserts on the plate, she lifted brown coffee cream biscuit and placed it on his plate. “You can have this one. It is coffee flavoured.”

With an approving smile, Taron picked up the biscuit and bit into it, taking half of it into his mouth. He chewed for a second. “Oh my God. This is so good. Robyn you will like this. It doesn’t taste like coffee. Here.” Holding the biscuit in his right hand, he brought it closer to her and giving her encouragement, she leaned into his hand and took a bite from the biscuit, holding her hand under Taron’s to catch any falling crumbs. He ate the last piece and watched as Robyn’s face grew into a smile.

“You are not touching my cakes.” She said firmly. “My goodness that is delicious.”

Richard watched the interaction between the two with a smile on his face. The innocent flirting, the touches and shy smiles exchanged between the two were new to him but he had seen the photos from Taron’s premier and in a still picture it was just as obvious the love between the two. He wasn’t really surprised to see their developing relationship because when he spoke to Robyn at Elton’s for that brief moment outside on the balcony, he could see how much Robyn already loved Taron, even if she had yet to see it for herself and being one of Taron’s best male friends, he definitely knew Taron’s true and honest feelings about Robyn amongst other things Taron couldn’t hold back. Pouring some more tea into his cup, he then reached for one of the small cakes on his plate, digging his fork into it and tasting it.

“Try the jelly. So good.” He told his friends sitting opposite him.

Taking turns and trying the different delicate pastries, taking a bit from each one, letting the other know what they thought, deciding which ones they liked the best and least as they shared the small treats but soon, they were beaten by the tiny cakes and all three had to admit defeat and none could finish their afternoon tea.

“I guess it will be a boxed up to be brought home then.” Robyn said with a grin, seeing Taron’s face light up. “If you excuse me, I am going to go and find the bathroom. I drank way too much tea.”

Collecting her clutch bag and leaving the table, Robyn left the beautiful room to go and find the bathrooms.

“You want to pop your tongue back in your mouth there rocketman? You are drooling all over the table!” Richard laughed as Taron scowled his way. “You really got it bad!”

Taron’s scowl turned to a frown and then his face turned a little sad. “And worse.” He ran his hands down his face. “I love her.”

“I know. I think she might just love you too and don’t look at me like that. I thought something was starting when I saw you both at Elton’s but my God Taron, she watches you like a hawk.”

“Always has.”

“Why don’t you tell her?” He watched as Taron shook his head. “Mate come on. I can see you holding back.”

“Not the right time.”

“Not the right time? Jesus Taron, that woman saved your life, has been a constant support for you and given you a place to go whenever you need a break and I don’t just mean her home. I got one of those hugs you talk about constantly.”

“She’s a little broken,”

“Then fix her. I am pretty sure she won’t mind.”

Taron shook his head once more. “Not this weekend.”

“Would be a wonderful birthday gift to her.” On seeing Taron shake his head once more, Richard sighed. “How broken?”

“Arsehole cheated on her for over a year with her best friend and literally tore her whole soul apart. I must be so careful Richard. She is just the most precious thing in the world.”

“She might not be as broken as you think.”

“I can’t hurt her.”

Richard’s face fell at the tone of Taron’s voice. “You won’t and believe me mate, she feels the same way and I know you know it or you wouldn’t be sneaking your arm around her waist or letting her kiss your head.” He saw a smile grow on Taron’s face though the Welshman tried very hard not to let it happen. “Sleeping in the same bed? Cuddles and hugs? And kisses? Going for a swim in Aber and in the pool last weekend and let’s not even mention Paris. Believe me, a woman doesn’t do all that out of the goodness of her heart for no reason, especially someone like Robyn who has this unbelievable hard shell that you know I have seen first-hand. She adores you Taron and maybe you can just show her the full Taron experience!” Richard winked at his friend.

“Jesus Richard!”

“Slightly frustrated at any point?” Richard joked earning him a kick under the table. “Need some time alone!”

“Richard! Fucks sake.” Taron felt his cheeks furiously flush and frowned at his friend, biting his lip a little.

“Sooner you say something, sooner you have some help!” Richard laughed, moving his legs before Taron could kick him hard again. “Just saying…” He trailed off laughing as Taron blushed a deeper red.

Taron was so grateful for the return of their server who walked over with a smile. “So everything ok here? Can I get you anything else?”

“No thank you.” Taron answered hoping his bright cheeks has calmed down. “But could we get the pastries we didn’t eat boxed up?”

“Sure of course. All the same box?”

“Two boxes please.” Taron pushed his and Robyn’s half eaten cakes together. “These can go in the same box.”

“No problem at all. I will look after that for you now.” The waiter picked up the three china plates.

“Thank you.” Taron looked to Richard who was still grinning at him as the waiter walked away. “I am going to go to the bathroom too. I drank a lot of tea and coffee too.”

“Hmm tea and coffee.” Richard teased as Taron eased himself up from his chair and walked past him, Taron lightly clipping him on the back of his head as he stood behind him.

“And as I said to my mates on New Year’s Eve, she is the woman who saved my life, a little bit of respect please.”

Richard turned to Taron, a look of guilt on his face. “You know I have the upmost respect for her.” He placed his hand on Taron’s shoulder. “I just don’t want you missing out.”

“I am not, I promise.” With a nod, Taron made his way through the tables in the room, heading for the archway entrance and the bathrooms, a smile finding his face as he saw Robyn walking his way.

“Hello stranger.” She chuckled as they stopped moving closer to the wall so not to be in the way of others passing by. “You making your escape? Or going to find more cake?”

His heart warmed as her words instantly lifted his mood and he shook his head. “Nope. On the way to the bathroom.”

“Ahh the curse of way too much tea.”

“And coffee.” He agreed.

“You ok? You’re a little flushed.”

Taron smiled. She could always read him so well. “I am just so stuffed from the cakes.”

“And we still have a birthday cake at your flat to eat.”

“Might have to share that with the neighbours. I will be right back.” Gently touching her elbow Taron walked past her heading in the direction which she had come from.

Robyn headed back to their table and slipped into her seat opposite Richard. “What did you say to him?” She asked.

“To who?”

“You know who.” Richard’s face fell a little. “What will be will be and I know it’s what you ‘guy’s’ do but any chance you can go easy on the friendly banter?”

Richard’s smiled a little. “He went pretty red.”

“You know how I feel about him but there is too much at stake Richard. As I told you at Elton’s I would rather have him as a friend then not have him at all.”

“And as I said to you, you both deserve so much more.”

“And I won’t hurt him.”

Richard shook his head. “As if you could. Take the chance Robyn. It will be absolutely worth it and that broken heart of yours, well I truly believe Taron can fix that with one kiss and not a kiss from a bet.”

Robyn looked past Richard to see Taron walking back to their tables, his cheeks settled back to their normal colour. “I very much appreciate how much you care about us but this is something that will take time to work itself out.”

“You two are so bloody stubborn.” Richard said sitting back in his chair his arms crossing over his chest. “I just wish you could see yourselves from everyone else’s eyes.”

She didn’t answer him, looking to Taron instead as he walked over to her and behind her chair to sit on his own. “Those bathrooms never cease to amaze me.”

“Pretty fancy alright.” Robyn agreed.

The server came back to their table once again and placed two white boxes on their table. “All set to go.”

“Thanks very much,” Taron replied.

“I hope everything was to your liking?” The three nodded. “Wonderful. Well thank you for joining us here at The Savoy for afternoon tea and I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

The waiter walked away from the table, moving on to another close by.

“Richard thank you so very much for this. It was perfect.”

“You are more than welcome. I thought it was a nice birthday present.”

“The best and the fact that we could all sit and catch up, made it so much better.”

They sat for another twenty minutes before getting to their feet and putting their coats on, walking through the lobby for one last time and out to the entrance of the hotel. Robyn, although had such a lovely afternoon with the boys, was feeling sad at having to say goodbye to Richard, not knowing when she would see him again. While Taron sat against the shelf in the 7/11 trying his best to stay awake and contour his pain, she spent the time speaking with Richard, getting to know him and while herself and Taron had a unique bond, Richard was very special to her too.

“We will see each other again.” Richard easily saw the sad look on Robyn’s face. “Hey none of that now. We know it won’t be tomorrow or next week but we will see each other and we can still talk on the phone and we have that lengthy WhatsApp chat to continue.” Their hug was tight and long, Richard kissing her cheek as they let go. “No more sad. It’s your birthday.”

“That was on Wednesday.”

“Robyn!” Richard chuckled glad to see her smile. “You two enjoy the rest of the weekend and tonight.”

Robyn’s smile grew. “You know what he has planned, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Robyn looked to Taron who stood with an adorable smirk on his face. “You told Richard?”

“Robyn, I have pretty much told everyone except you and it’s not that long until you find out and you loved this surprise, I am more than sure you will love the next one.”

“Is it sitting on your couch watching movies?”

Taron’s smirk grew. “So impatient.”

A black car pulled up alongside them, Anthony stepping out. “Richard, long time so see.” He stepped forward to shake the Scotsman hand.

“Seriously? Richard too?” Robyn looked to Anthony.

“Sorry Miss Quinn.” Anthony apologised.

Taron and Robyn stood for another five minutes having a conversation with Richard at the entrance to the hotel and after one more hug and goodbye, they slid into the back of the car and gave Richard one last wave as they headed back towards Taron’s flat.

#Taron Egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Fanfic #Love #Friendship #Reunions #Memories #Hugs #Emotions #Feelings #Afternoon Tea #Birthday Surprises #Robyn and Taron

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monotonemanday · 6 years ago

Text

A State Fair-y Tale

Another commission completed and posted! This was a commission for @rossyele Thank you so much for commissioning me, Bebe! I hope everyone enjoys. If you are interested in commissions or want details, send me a DM or an ask. (: Another Jumin Fic, coming at ya!

Upbeat circus type music could be heard in the distance in one direction and in the other there was pleasant music coming from a small stage, most likely a local band. Children running around, laughing, chasing one another, teenagers walking around hand in hand, parents enjoying a bit of a break from wrangling up kids all day.

The sun was out and there were only a few big bright fluffy white clouds in the beautiful light blue sky. You looked out across the huge field spotting so many different sectioned off areas, families with their spots set up in the grass, a small roller coaster, a large ship that rocked back and forth, something spinning at an alarming speed, a ferris wheel and a sea of different tents and booths for local vendors.

It had been awhile since you were at a State Fair. Ever since you had moved away from home you were constantly in big cities, and at present day, there was nothing small or rural about your life.

You had returned to your home town because one of your favorite cousins you had grown up with was getting married. You thought it would be the perfect opportunity to bring along your partner, your boyfriend. Show him off a bit.

The wedding went off perfectly. A beautiful ceremony and he had charmed everyone in attendance. Even your cousin, the blushing bride, had a few words of envy for you about how lucky you are. And you knew it to be true. You loved that you could show off your man. But now...here at the fair. It was a bit much. People couldn't stop staring.

With your blanket in one hand and his hand in the other you gave a side glance to your boyfriend. He insisted on wearing that three piece suit. His normal attire, but at a state fair? Well...it looked like he was running for mayor of the town or something. Trying to make a good impression.

"Jumin?"

He turned to face towards you, the sun dancing off his raven hair.

"Yes, love?"

"Are you sure you're okay wearing a suit? It's pretty warm out, and it will continue to get hotter."

He furrowed his brows together, signifying his entering into deep thought.

"Perhaps, I should have listened to you, my dear. It seems I have severely misinterpreted what a fair like this would be like. I am stubborn to a fault." He tugged your hand, pulling you in close to him and laid a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I can simply take off my suit jacket if it gets too warm."

You gave him a heartfelt smile and rolled your eyes internally. You loved how he dressed, how he carried himself and how he was so naive too certain things. Of course having a man escort you around in a suit made you feel almost like royalty, but you were in a small rural town, for the state fair, and you were going to show him what it was like. What it was like to genuinely experience something like this.

"Jumin, I brought a change of clothes in the car just in case your stubborn walls came down."

The corner of his lips upturned and he gave a throaty chuckle.

"Alright, love. I'll see if I can make it work."

As Jumin walked back to the car, you sauntered around for a bit and found the perfect spot in the grass. Unfolding the blanket you began to spread it out, when a group of women came up to you. You recognized them and greeted them kindly. They made a little bit of small talk but then immediately went into the third degree with their questions. Each one of course being about Jumin.

Once they heard the word "boyfriend" their jaws dropped. Asking if he was a politician, a celebrity, a billionaire playboy. If you were just his mistress, and if he needed another. You were becoming overwhelmed with their squawking, the heat getting to you on top of that. Feeling weak at the knees, you suddenly felt a gentle hand placed on the small of your back and a rich baritone voice silence they clucking hens.

"Good afternoon, Ladies. I hope you are enjoying yourselves. My dear, are these old friends of yours?"

Jumin was no longer in his suit but the wide eyed Mary's staring at him were still equally impressed. Now dressed in form fitting khaki shorts and a light lavender button up shirt, you found yourself staring as well. Him being so covered up most of the time, you often forgot how fit he looked. His calf muscles, his forearms, everything so toned. With a few blinks you snapped yourself back to reality and out of your day dream fantasies.

"Oh, yes this are some acquaintances that I used to know."

Jumin chatted with them amicably for a beat. If he allowed it, they probably would have talked to him the rest of the day and well into the night. But Jumin didn't waste time with such things and he also wasn't about to let a day with you go to waste.

"It was nice meeting you all, but I am afraid I have to cut things short. I am here on a date with my loved one and she has a lot to show me when it comes to these fairs." His hand once again found yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours. You both found each others gaze and smiled brightly at each other.

"Okay, let's go!" You begin to walk off in a random direction but your were stopped. Jumin had his feet planted and wasn't very...mobile. "Jumin?"

"We are leaving? But we just put the blanket down."

"Well yes, to save our spot. We will come back after we look around and get somethings to eat. This is really just where we'll come to take a break or if we get a whole bunch to eat and need to sit!"

Jumin loved your enthusiasm, but he was still a bit perplexed.

“We’re going to leave it unattended? What if it is stolen? If someone mistakes it for their own? Can someone take over this spot we have pick if we ourselves are not present”

Looping your arm through his and snuggling close to his side you stifled your giggling.

“This is a small community, Jumin. Not the big city. It will be fine here, I promise.” With a gentle nudge he let you know he was ready to go on the days adventure.

First, the two of you walked around arm in arm, getting the lay of the land. You explained which stalls were games, which were shops, and which sold food. You showed him where different competitions took place. Those were the most confusing for him.

“A pie eating contest? People compete in who can eat a dessert better? How can you tell who is eating it best?”

“Well Jumin, it’s whoever has the most enjoyable expression while eating.”

He blinked at you and rubbed the back of his head in inquiry.

"I don't think that is all that accurate..."

You let out a satisfying belly laugh and pecked his flushed cheek.

"Eating contests are when people try to eat the most of something in a certain amount of time. Pie's, Hot Dog's. Maybe one day we can find a Pancake eating contest and you can enter."

"Or a whine drinking contest?" Jumin asked in all seriousness as his eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas.

"I think you and Jihyun already have those at home."

The two of you laugh and make your way further down the line of sections.

"Are these the pie's they use for the contest?" When you looked to what Jumin was pointing at you saw a table with several different pies all lined up.

"Oh! No, that is the Pie BAKING contest. That's where locals bring their best attempts at pies and then the best one wins!"

"I see. So they bring in chefs and critics I am sure. With degrees and high levels of experience?"

"Uhm. No. Usually it's like, the Mayor, or a local business owner."

"Well that won't do. That is not fair to the people who are looking to have their baking judged. Clearly they are looking for praise and critique."

"Actually I think it's more of something they do for fu- no no no no Jumin! Get back here!" You were scream whispering at your boyfriend who left your side and was now talking to the woman he had seen holding the prize ribbons.

Hastily you ran up to them to try and diffuse the situation, when you recognized the woman. Mrs. Cook your old babysitter.

"Mrs. Cook I'm so sorry to-"

"Is this your girlfriend young man?" She interrupted you with a big hug and took a good look at you.

"You've grown so much! I was just talking to this charming young man. He mentioned his girlfriend was from here and I am assuming that he was talking about you!" She gave you another bear like hug. "I always knew you were going to end up with someone so successful! A businessman with unparalleled good looks as well!" She gave him a cheeky little wink of her own.

"Thank you, I hope he wasn't being too harsh with you abou-" You were interrupted again by her enthusiasm.

"No No! He's wonderful. Actually, I was wondering if you two would like to be the judges of the pie eating contest."

Looking over at Jumin, he slowly produced his most charming smile. You gently shook your head, embarrassed by his antics but for his sake you agreed. Before the competition started, Jumin asked you a few more questions. Like why do the pie's get accolades and ribbons when it was the person that baked the pie that is the real winner. You explained it's just for show in a way. He also explained to you why he asked your old babysitter for the task of judging the pies. How you are a local and fitting for the task and how he is a prominent business man and due to his high demand of fine dining with clients he has the perfect pallet for such a thing. The real reasons why he wanted to judge however, remained a mystery. But you had a hunch it was because he knew how much you loved pie. Once the two of you finished judging the pies, the contest was over, and local photographers and reporters were done swarming your boyfriend. The two of you continued on.

Jumin bought a few souvenirs at the stalls where people were selling hand crafted goods. You had him try several deep fried things, cotton candy, junk after junk after junk.

The two of you played some games. Jumin was perfect at the ring toss, the two of you were dead awful at the shooting range and Jumin ended up winning you a large stuffed animal playing darts. Not because he was good at it, but because he had ended up asking the worker so many questions and going over so many statistics that the worker gave it to him just so he would get out of his hair. You saw some more people that you recognized from your past and watched a couple of bands on the stage. Jumin seemed very fond of how calm and simple it was having a gentle local band performing for a crowd.

After walking around and introducing Jumin to fresh squeezed lemonade, the two of you returned to your blanket and sat down with a funnel cake for each of you.

The crispy fried bread topped with the messy powdered sugar smelt so delicious and so inviting. Familiar to you but foreign to Jumin. Ready to take an enormous bite yourself you noticed Jumin looking at his hesitantly.

"Is something wrong, hun?"

"Well..." His cheeks were a light pink and he held the plate up to his eye level. "It's just...how are you supposed to eat this? The sugar on the top is very messy. There are no utensils. And everything else we ate today, well for the most part, came on a stick."

"You use your hands, Jumin." Your heart was bursting with joy and love for this adorable man.

Holding your funnel cake in the air, making a proper path to your mouth you suddenly felt a breeze whip by you and a bite from your funnel cake was gone.

"Jumin! You use your own hands! To eat your own food!" You burst out laughing as you catch him with his cheeks puffed out. Stuffed with the big bite he just took. He swallowed and closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"Darling, I have learned many things today but this is where you are wrong. Eating it this way is much better." He picked his funnel cake off of his plate and held it carefully to your mouth. You took a bite and blushed once you realized the two of you were feeding each other in plain view of everyone else.

The day was coming to an end and the two of you folded up your blanket. With the sun getting ready to set, Jumin took your hand and walked you to the Ferris Wheel. You waited in line while each basket rotated to the bottom for people to step in. When it was your turn, you got in the basket and Jumin stopped short.

"There is no worker that escorts us in here? A driver for our basket?"

"Jumin...there's no-"

He stepped inside and gave you a smirk, with kind gentle eyes.

"I know. I was simply making a joke."

The two of you sat across each other, your basket mid way up, waiting for the actual ride to start. Suddenly you felt it shifting and sway back and forth.

"Jumin! You're making the weight un-even!" You were scolding him as you were clinging onto the front of his shirt. He had stood up and moved to sit directly next to you.

"I know that, love. But I feel better having you safe in my arms instead of across the way."

With your nerves settled the Ferris Wheel began it's journey. You leaned on his shoulder and the two of you watched the sunset in silence for several rotations. Occasionally you felt him lay a gentle kiss on top of your head.

"Jumin, thank you for coming with me."

"Hhmmm?" He looked down at you and you looked up to see him a bit puzzled.

"We came here for my cousins wedding. We didn't have any other reason for being here. But you made time to come to the state fair, on a date with me. Thank you."

He pulled you in closer and you rested your head on his shoulder once more. "No, dear. Thank you. I never thought like this things were a necessity, and I never thought that the way I grew up made me anything but normal. I never thought I had to participate in these kinds of things to make me like everyone else. And I still don't. I learned a lot of things and had a lot of fun. I needed to come here today not to be like everyone else, but because this is a part of you and the world you grew up in. So it's important that I take part in it too."

Feeling immense light and love you craned your neck so that the two of you could share a soft kiss. Enjoying all of the sounds, the breeze, and looking back on the memories of today, you realized something.

No matter where you are, what you are doing, how he is dressed, or if he is doing something new or something he has done a thousand times; He will always be the prince making you feel like a princess living out a fairy tale. Because no one could ever love, comfort, care for, or deliver, like Jumin Han.

#mysme #mystic messenger #mysticmessenger #jumin #jumin han #jumin x mc #jumin x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #msyme fanfic #writing #commission #writing commissions #thank you #enjoy

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dirge-of-valentinex4 · 6 years ago

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@marie-dufresne

Seated at her desk in her office with a small pile of dried forget-me-nots and decoupage paste by her side, Marie’s pen hovered against the blank inside of a plain, ivory card.

Mr. Valentine,

…no, no that wouldn’t do. She scribbled it out and tossed the card into the trash. Given that this was a Valentine’s Day gift, and Vincent didn’t seem to excited about, well, anything, she very much doubted he appreciated the coincidence of his name.

She pulled another card from the start and began again.

Vincent,

She wasn’t comfortable with it but…it would have to do. This was a gift of a more personal nature anyway. Using his given name was only appropriate.

In hopes that I am in your thoughts, as you are forever in mine.

Hm. No. More scribbling. Forever was a bit desperate and clingy. If there was one thing she was striving not to be, it was desperate and clingy. She was an understanding wife who was doing her best to maintain a happy…ah, comfortable marriage despite their distance.

Another new card.

In hopes that I am in your thoughts, as you are so often in mine.

There.

Yours—his how?

“Faithfully,” she mumbled, scrawling it at the end of the card. Let there be no room for doubt that while alone here, in college, she was not straying from her vows.

Yours faithfully,

Marie.

There. Laying out a small piece of newsprint so as not to make a mess, she laid the dried flowers across the outside cover of the card, arranging them artfully before setting them with the paste, painting over them with slow, careful brush strokes.

While that dried, she set up her camera.

It wasn’t he real one, but her instant camera used mostly for photographing the flowers in the garden to decorate the fridge, or silly pictures of her and Sophia out and about. They printed immediately and had a certain charm about them she enjoyed. It was perfect for this project. While perhaps the quality and composition would have been much more impressive had she had someone from school photograph her, this was…quite a personal project and she’d rather do it herself.

With the camera set on the tripod and her self-timing device attached to it, she adjusted its position before her bed and undressed.

She did not remove all her clothes, keeping her bra and panties on, a set she’d bought specifically for this. It wasn’t extravagant or even particularly scandalous, just…feminine. Extremely so, a light blush pink and all lace, though the straps of her bra were made of ribbons, tied into delicate bows at the shoulder, a matching bow at the front of her panties, directly under her naval.

Perhaps it was a bit seductive. Not that…she imagined he’d see it that way, but perhaps he could appreciate it nonetheless.

Pressing the timer button, she hopped onto the bed, blowing a kiss to the camera and then dashing forward as the polaroid printed. It seemed like ages for it to process, but she let out a little squeal of delight when it did, the playful image cropped almost perfectly.

She repeated the process three more times, each a different pose and when she held the four images before her, she decided to send them all.

Wrapped up in her robe, she took to her desk once again, addressing the envelope directly to him at the office. He wasn’t often at his apartment and she couldn’t risk these sitting in wait in an overstuffed mailbox or worse, snatched up at his door in the shady building.

Pressing her lips to the back of the envelope and leaving a pastel pink lipstick print there, she propped the card up. It would go out in tomorrow’s post.

Needless to say, Vincent hated Valentine’s Day, for the obvious reason of course, and the sudden attack of pink, red, and glitter seemed abhorrent and excessive. Nothing worse than having love and romance shoved in your face, especially when you considered yourself a naturally romantic person anyways.

Thankfully, Veld understood and sent him out into the slums to deal with some problems, well away from all the roses and glitter. As such, Marie’s little envelope ended up on Veld’s desk, as the mail person simply dumped their mail off together. They spent enough time at the same desk that it didn’t matter much. An eyebrow raised when he saw the pink lip print, and he flicked it out of the pile, turning it over to see who it was too...and from.

“Well well...” Veld hummed, grinning, “Maybe things are improving after all.”

He set it aside and went back to work, curious about what Vincent’s reaction would be, and what was inside.

It was dark when Vincent finally did return, looking smug and satisfied, rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes dark with the pleasure of a good day.

“Well?”

Vincent set the rifle down and threw himself onto Veld’s office couch, “It’s taken care of. You should have seen the shot. It was perfect. Perfect vantage point and set up. All nice and tidy.”

Veld nodded and wheeled around in his chair to face his comrade, fingers dragging the envelope to the edge of his desk, “Good. You got mail.” He flicked the envelope with practiced ease.

“Junk mail?” he asked, catching it, then pausing as he glanced at the return address, and the lip print. “A SWAK.....”

His neck was starting to burn, and he knew his ears would follow, but he couldn’t just....get up and leave. Basically he was screwed no matter what he did and Veld was never going to stop harassing him about his forced marriage.

Veld had turned away, but he knew he was still watching, and slowly he pulled his knife out and sliced the envelope open. A card greeted him, and he pulled it out and flipped it open, the photos sliding out and onto the floor.

Veld’s eyebrow arched higher and he diverted his attention. That was unexpected, and a smirk pulled at his lips that he turned away more to hid, while Vincent scrambled to recollect the pictures, ears crimson.

“Um...” Vincent stuffed it all back into the envelope, which went into his pocket, his breast pocket and he stood awkwardly.

“Oh my gods Vincent. Relax.” Veld said, finally bursting into laughter. “Your wife sent you boudoir photos. Enjoy them.”

Vincent was already out the door, but Veld got a glimpse of his middle finger as he went and laughed again.

The stairwells were hardly ever used and Vincent settled himself on the cool concrete steps between floors, taking a moment to recollect himself. Half of him wanted to look again but another half was appalled. It was ridiculous, he knew, and Veld was right, it wasn’t as if he was receiving illicit photographs. Somehow it still felt a little bit wrong.

He waited until his ears had cooled, then retrieved the envelope from his pocket and actually looked at the card, thumb smoothing over the previously unnoticed cover. Had she made it herself? It appeared so.. Then the simple note inside.

Yours faithfully. He liked that bit, considering he had all but told her when they’d first married that he wouldn’t care if she took a lover.

The photos he had set face down on his knee until he was ready to look at them, and one by one he turned them over, eyes flickering over the details; the room she was in, the bed, her pose, what she was wearing. He worried his lip then as he looked at them a second time, then a third.

....Was he supposed to reciprocate? What was he supposed to do now?

Carefully he put them away and pulled his phone out. To text or call? He’d much rather text... it was easy to find the time to figure out what he wanted to say, and it showed much less emotion.

[text to: Marie]

I received your card.

Was that too cold? Should he word it differently? More lip chewing, thumb hovering over send before he finally just hit it and then sat, and waited for a reply.

#marie-dufresne #Valentine's Day #submission

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5hfanfiction · 6 years ago

Text

Why Did I Get Married? (Camren)

Part Twenty Six: Back To Reality

“I’m here with, Camila Jauregui, and we’re talking about her newest album….‘The Hurting, The Healing, The Loving’,” James Corden; a renown talk show host said as he introduced the pop star. “We’re all dying to know, when is this highly anticipated album dropping?”

Camila smiled. She was way too excited for the release of this album, as it was as she dubbed 'her baby’. “Well, James, my baby will be dropping….drumroll please,” the audience laughed once they heard the drumroll. “September 21st! I’m so excited to share this with everyone, not just my fans but anyone who listens to my music. I hope it resonates with the broken, and I hope they know that their healing is coming. It may not be right now, but it’s coming.”

James grinned. “You heard it here first, folks. Camila Jauregui’s third studio album is dropping in two months! I don’t know about you all, but I am honestly super excited for this album!” The crowd murmured in agreement. All of Camila’s fans had been awaiting this album since before she even announced it was in the works, and it was finally going to be released and bless their ears. “Okay, so question, what’s your favourite song that you have on the record?”

Camila groaned. “Everyone keeps asking me this, but truth is, all these songs are my babies, they’re pieces of me. It’s like when your kids come and ask you which one of them is your favourite.”

James snorted. “Oh, trust me, I know the feeling.” The crowd laughed along with him.

“But, if I had to choose, I feel like my favourite song would be 'Like I’m Going To Lose You’.” This had been a part of Camila’s 'The Loving’, and a featured artist she had on it was John Legend. “And I know, you’re going to ask why, but I think it’s my favourite because it revolves around a situation between my wife and I.” Camila ran a hand through her hair. “I think…um…when we love someone, something that we forget is that at any given moment the person can be gone; be it death, divorce or whatever it is. And I feel like we don’t truly cherish someone until they’re gone. So I wrote that song after coming to the realisation that my wife won’t be here forever, so I plan on loving her like I’m going to lose her. Unconditionally, because we aren’t promised tomorrow.”

You might think that you don’t matter in this world, but because of you someone has a favourite mug that they drink their coffee out of every morning.

Someone has a favourite song, that whenever it comes on the radio, they can’t help but belt the lyrics out, not giving a shit whether they sound good or not.

Someone reads a book or watches a movie that you recommended and they get so lost in the little details, and they can’t help but wait to talk to you about it.

Don’t ever think you don’t have an impact in someone’s life. Your fingerprints can’t simply be wiped away from the little acts of kindness, from the way you love someone, it can’t go away just like that.

“Aw that’s literally the cutest thing I’ve heard all day!” James gushed. “Do you think she’s watching your interview right now? Do you have something you’ll like to tell the woman that stole your heart?”

Camila laughed. She didn’t think her wife had been watching the interview because she had to be at work at an insanely early hour. Nicholas Dos Santos was going to need her to photograph some of his models and that was going to take a few hours.

“I don’t think she’s watching right now, but even if she isn’t, I just want you all to know that this woman has my entire heart,” Camila placed her left hand over her heart and smiled. “I love her with everything in me. I know that no matter what…she’ll be mine. She’s my home.”

***

“Lauren!”

“Mrs Jauregui - Cabello!”

“Ma'am!”

It had been an extremely long day of running back and forth in her photography studio. Lauren was accustomed to all of this but today, she wanted everything to be perfect. Working with Nicholas was her childhood dream and she needed to impress this man, even though he had expressed on more than one occasion how much he fancied Lauren and Natasha’s work.

Lauren slid into her car, slamming the door shut, she rested her head against the steering wheel and shut her eyes for a bit. She just needed a moment of calm before heading home.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Her phone rang, groaning as she picked up the phone, once the voice rang through the speaker, she knew it was her sister.

“Heyyy, sissy!” Maggie greeted her sister. “Where are you?”

Lauren groaned. “I’m heading home. I’m so tired. I’m just going to dive into my bed and…die.”

“Very cryptic, hermana,” Maggie yelled at someone in the background, telling them to put something back. “But no can do, you’re coming to Val’s restaurant. You know where that is right?”

The older Jauregui mumbled an incoherent answer.

“Listen here, you dumb bitch, how many times do I have to tell you to stop eating the fucking food! She isn’t here yet!” Maggie yelled.

The person yelled back; the culprit being Dinah Jane, Camila and Lauren’s mutual friend. “Listen here, Jauregui, I would end your shit. Do not talk to me like that!”

Lauren snickered. “Mags, Dinah, the both of y'all need to behave.”

“Ugh!” Maggie let out frustratedly. “Just be here in twenty minutes before I murder this whore.”

Lauren laughed loudly. “Okay, fine. I’ll be there soon. And in case Dinah kills you, just letting you know that I love you.”

“Love you too! Now bye,” they both hung up. Lauren hadn’t the slightest clue as to why her sister wanted her to come to Valetina’s restaurant, she just assumed that they were having a get together that Camila had planned last minute.

However, what Lauren had completely forgotten was that her 27th birthday was today. With all the work she was doing building up to today, it had slipped her mind. Of course, people wished her on her social medias, but she didn’t have the chance to check it, nor did she like social media to begin with.

Me, on the other hand, Twitter and Snapchat are my faves. I’m always lurking, scrolling…judging.

Anyway, it hadn’t been the first time Lauren had forgotten her birthday, in fact maybe it was the fourth or fifth. Unknowingly to her, Camila had planned an intimate get together with their families and close friends. She knew Lauren wasn’t too keen on extravagance, so the smaller, the better.

It was a twenty minute drive to Valentina’s restaurant. A pretty high end restaurant, might I add. Lauren parked her car and got out. She wasn’t greeted to people jumping out of nowhere, screaming 'Happy Birthday’, but rather Camila, Dinah and Maggie bickering about some birthday decorations.

Lauren cleared her throat loudly, the trio stopped and turned towards the noise, only to be greeted with their guest of honour.

“Laur!” Camila pouted. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

Lauren laughed. Izzy came charging at her mother, almost tripping in the process. She scoped the child up in her arms. “Feliz cumpleaños, mama!” Izzy wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck.

“Happy Birthday!!” Everyone else yelled out because it made no sense anymore as they weren’t prepared for Lauren’s entrance. Upon surveying the room, Lauren saw her parents, Sinu, Valentina, Becky, Dinah, Normani, Ally along with their families. Then there was Natasha who was chatting with Hailee; who recently ended things with her newest boyfriend, then there was Maggie and Ariana.

Lauren smiled. “I can honestly say that I’m surprised. I had completely forgotten about my birthday with everything that was going on.” She wrapped an arm around her wife pulling her close. “Thank you all for coming.”

“I don’t know how you can forget your birthday, babe,” Camila placed a kiss on her wife’s lips. “It’s the day the earth was blessed with such an amazing woman like you.”

Dinah cupped her hands over her mouth and yelled. “Smoothhhh.”

Camila smirked and sent a wink at her friend, “It’s the Cabello genes, baby.”

“Hear, hear!” Becky raised a glass of juice as her mother wasn’t going to allow her to drink anything alcoholic.

Maggie approached her sister and engulfed her in a hug. “Twenty seven has literally never looked any better,” she winked at her sister. “But! Let’s get you out of that hideous work attire,” the model linked arms with her sister, not before telling everyone to let the party begin.

Maggie popped open her trunk, and began rummaging through clothing bags.

Lauren laughed. “You have cocktail dresses in your trunk? Really, Mags?”

The younger Jauregui rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. I’m not an animal, Lauren.” She pulled out a jeans, and paired it with a shirt. It wasn’t something Maggie would wear because she goes all out, but her sister wasn’t extravagant; only when it comes to cars anyway. “Throw this on and go enjoy your party.”

Lauren took the outfit, but as her sister went to walk away, she pulled her back. “Hey, Mags?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Lauren gestured to the party. “I really appreciate it.”

Maggie smiled. “You’re welcome, but I only did the heavy lifting. Your wife is the one who planned everything. You should be thanking her.”

Which was true. Camila had been the one who was planning Lauren’s birthday party. She didn’t want to do something over the top, but rather a small get together with Lauren’s loved ones.

“Although,” Maggie smirked. “I think you’re doing a pretty good job thanking her almost every other night.”

“O-okay,” Lauren blushed. “I think I should change and head back inside. You know, can’t keep my guests waiting!” She sprinted inside to change into her outfit, leaving her sister behind who was laughing uncontrollably.

***

After opening up a few gifts from her friends, and interacting with everyone, Lauren needed some time to herself. She grabbed a plate of food and headed out on the veranda to look at the cars that were passing by. Surprisingly, Camila was already there sitting on a bench, lost in her own thoughts.

Have you ever looked at the love of your life, when they’re doing absolutely nothing and find yourself falling more and more in love with them?

One day, you’re gonna meet this great girl or guy in life. And from the moment your eyes lock with theirs, you’ll know that they’re trouble. They’re going to have a weird sense of humour, they’re going to have an attitude, they’re going to drive you crazy. They’re going to make you do things you never thought you would’ve done. They’re going to make you see the world in a different light.

But, most importantly, they’re going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

You’re going to love them against reason, so no matter what, don’t get tired of them.

Don’t give up on her.

Because you knew from the moment your eyes locked with hers, the moment she took your breath away, you knew that she was….worth it.

“You’re staring, Jauregui.”

Lauren snapped out of her thoughts and she smiled to herself. “How can I not? You’re absolutely stunning. Especially in that dress.”

“Flattery would only get you everywhere,” Camila turned her head, and sent a wink to her wife.

Lauren approached the woman, taking a seat next to her. “But as beautiful as you look in that dress, I’ll love to see you out of it,” she whispered into Camila’s ears, causing her to shiver at the thought.

The brunette hummed. “I’ll keep that in mind when we get home, if you aren’t too exhausted.” She took the birthday girl’s hand in hers, pulling it onto her lap. “Listen, Laur, I know it’s your birthday but I need to tell you something.”

“LAUREN! CAMILA!” Ariana burst out onto the veranda where the couple were. “What are you two doing out here? The party is in there.”

“Why are you yelling?”

Ariana paused for a moment contemplating why she was yelling in the first place, but she shrugged. “I don’t know,” she giggled. “Oh by the way, Milz. I didn’t get the chance to tell you, but I’m really excited to be joining you on tour! Just us girls taking on the world!!”

The moment the word 'tour’ left Ariana’s lips, Camila could practically feel Lauren’s eyes glaring into the side of her head. When Camila didn’t say anything, and Ariana had saw the look on Lauren’s face, she knew she had messed up.

“WHAT’S THAT MAGS?!” Ariana pretended as though her girlfriend was calling her, as she tried to escape this very awkward situation. “COMING, BABE!” The pop star ran away, because she was sure some shit was about to go down. And she didn’t want to be a part of that.

“So,” Lauren began. “Tour, huh?”

Camila cringed. “Mi amor, please let me explain.” She turned to look at her wife, who was surprisingly calm, but she was pretty sure Lauren was about to murder her.

“Oh, go right ahead, amor,” Lauren smiled. “Tell me all about your tour.”

“It’s not…it’s not set in stone as yet,” Camila began. “I mean, maybe it is, but if you don’t…if you don’t want me to go, we can cancel it and I um..” She tried to find the right words, but she was so afraid of messing up the progress that they had made over the past few months. Camila wanted to tell Lauren about the tour, but every time she was about to, something interrupted them, and honestly? She was just too scared of her wife’s reaction.

Lauren sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Camz… I love you, I really do, but why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was scared…”

“Scared of what?”

Camila turned away from her wife. “We we’re finally happy again. You, me, Izzy…then…then I have to leave again. And after everything we’d lose all the progress we made, and you’ll hate me and Izzy would hate me.”

Lauren took Camila’s hands in hers in an attempt to comfort her. “I could never hate you, amor. I’m mad and definitely sad, yeah. But hate you? I can’t ever do that.”

Camila sighed but she didn’t say anything.

“I just wish that you would talk to me about these things you, know? You can’t keep hiding your career choices from me, especially when I’m obviously going to find out.”

“I just…I just didn’t want us to go back to the way we used to be,” Camila frowned. “But I know me not saying anything wasn’t a good decision on my part.”

Lauren blew out heavily threw her mouth and stood. She lent against one of the pillars of the building, not saying anything. “I don’t want to fight with you, Camz.” She turned and looked at her wife. Sadness evident in Camila’s brown eyes. “But it just hurts when you have to leave, you know? I know it’s your career and I’m not asking you to choose between your family and your career. I just want us to be able to discuss these things. I just…want to have a say, you know?”

Camila nodded slowly. “I know, and I completely understand. It’s just even after therapy, it’s still a process, and it’s still hard, but…I want us to figure this out together.” The brunette stood and walked towards her wife, taking one of her hands and intertwining their fingers. “Do you want me to go on tour?”

“I do,” Lauren didn’t miss a beat. “I know how much this means to you and I know how much you love your fans, and how much they love you. I don’t want to come between that, I just want us to be with you, as a family.”

“Do you think we should move?”

The photographer kinked an eyebrow. “Move? What do you mean?”

“Like…I don’t know? To New York” Camila suggested. “Most of your clients are there, then I’m there most of the time because of work…it I don’t know, it makes sense.” When she saw the confused expression etched on her wife’s face, she began to mumble incoherent things. “Never mind, I’m just being silly.”

Lauren shook her head 'no’. “It’s not that. It’s just…everyone is here. My family, yours…and Izzy. All Izzy’s friends are here.”

“Izzy doesn’t really like her friends besides, Elijah, Moana, Destiny, Imani and Elena,” Camila pointed out, but then she sighed. “It was stupid anyway.”

“What was stupid?” Dinah asked as she stepped outside, Ally and Normani trailing behind. “This is literally your twenty seventh birthday, Ralph Lauren, what on earth are you doing outside here?”

Normani took a sip of her drink. “We should be doing body shots! I call dibs on, Camila.” She playfully winked at her friend’s wife, who blushed red in embarrassment.

“I just followed these two out here to ensure that they weren’t going to do anything stupid,” Ally said, throwing her friends under the bus. “You both look glum, what’s going on?”

Camila sighed heavily, and passed her hand over her face. “I’m going on tour.”

“Oh.”

“Damn.”

“Welp.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Really, guys?”

“I mean, we’re just saying, things don’t usually end well for the both of y'all when Mila tours,” Dinah pointed out. “What are you both gonna do?”

“Camila, suggested we move.”

“Oh, damn. To NYC?” Ally asked, causing Camila to nod. “That actually doesn’t sound like a terrible idea. She’s always there cause of her music, then sometimes she’s in LA, but I mean it’s not a bad idea.”

Which is true. Most of the time Camila was in New York recording her songs, doing interviews, then she would be back and forth between Miami and New York. Occasionally she would have to go to LA, but that wasn’t as often as New York.

“But then there’s Izzy,” Normani added. “Uprooting a child from a stable environment can hamper their friendships and relationships with other people. These effects are most problematic for kids who are introverted and those whose personalities tend toward anxiety and inflexibility.”

Dinah snorted. “Did you read that off some magazine or something?”

“Actually, yes I did,” Normani retorted. “I like to be well informed for my clients.”

“BUT!” Ally interrupted the two before they started bickering. “Maybe you should include, Izzy in your discussion. Not right now though, she’s playing with Dante, Maggie and the kids.”

Lauren sighed and looked at her wife. “Camz…I love you. I really do. Home isn’t four walls to me, it’s two eyes and a heartbeat.” She trailed her hand down Camila’s arm. “Home is wherever you are, and if moving is what seems best, then we can do it. But we need to include Izzy in this.”

Camila smiled softly and nodded.

“And obviously, we’re going to constantly be in NYC now!” Dinah said excitedly. “Can’t miss out on baby Camren’s precious years.”

Camila laughed. “Of course not, DJ. Mi casa es vuestra casa.” She then looked at wife. “What about me being gone for tour? What happens then?”

Lauren paused and thought for a moment. “I mean, I can always let Hailee manage my company. She’s very capable of doing that. And I can become a freelance photographer. Travel around with you, whichever country your career takes you, and do jobs for people.”

“And Izzy?”

“We can home school her,” Camila thought out loud. “Hire someone, with a child at least who can travel with us and can teach Izzy for the time that I’m away.”

It may seem a bit too drastic. Having your family on the road with you, but it seemed like the only logically idea, especially if you don’t want your partner to give up on her dreams.

If you didn’t want her to stop doing what she loved.

And if we were being honest, Lauren never truly liked sitting behind a desk. She always wanted to travel the world, be adventurous and do what she loved. But when the time came, she chose something practical over her dreams and just went with it.

Minor details would have to be worked out, but this was something that the Jauregui - Cabello family had to talk about together and then go ahead with. Well, only if it was beneficial to all of them, especially young Isabella as she was just a child.

***

“Hey, princesa,” Lauren took a seat next to her daughter who was staring at a slice of cake. The child seemed as though she was deep in thought, until her mother startled her. “Whatcha doing?”

“I’m thinking,” Izzy said. She had her tongue caught between her teeth, eyes not leaving the slice of cake.

Lauren smiled fondly at her child. She ran her hand through the child’s ponytail. “What about?”

Her daughter didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Mama?” Izzy looked at her mother randomly. “What’s your birthday wish?”

“I wished for us, as a family to be happy always. No matter what happens, that we’ll come back to each other.” Lauren picked up a fork and cut a piece of the cake to feed her daughter.

Izzy smiled once she tasted the cake. “Because we’re family and that’s what family do!”

“Exactly, princesa.” She tougher Izzy’s face tenderly, smiling fondly at her. “Why aren’t you with your friends?”

Izzy shrugged. “They annoy me when I play with them too much.” Lauren laughed. “I like Elena more, but she couldn’t come to your party.” She pouted.

“Maybe next time you can invite her home for a sleepover. Does that sound better?”

Izzy nodded furiously. “Yes! I can’t wait.”

“Hey,” Camila approached her wife and daughter. “Are the two of you bonding without me?” She fake pouted, looking adorable as hell.

Lauren patted her lap so that the woman could take a seat. “C'mere, let’s bond.”

Izzy grinned happily. The child was always overly excited when she saw her parents’ interacting with one another. She didn’t know what truly went down between the two, but she knew they weren’t happy then, but now seeing all the strides her parents were making, the child couldn’t have been any happier.

“How’s your birthday going, babe?” Camila asked her wife. “Got everything you wanted?”

Lauren buried her face in the crook of Camila’s neck, inhaling her scent. “I couldn’t have asked for anything more, if I’m being honest.” She looked up and smiled at their daughter. “Being here with the both of you, with my friends and family? What more could I want?”

“Probably some birthday cake, if you know what I mean,” Natasha butted in. She pulled up a chair and took a seat amongst the family. “Am I right, or am I right?!”

Izzy handed her plate of cake to Lauren. “You can have some of my cake if you want, mama.”

Natasha laughed loudly. “She’s so innocent like you, Camzii.” The woman patted Camila’s hand.

Lauren rolled her eyes playfully. “It’s okay, princesa. You enjoy your cake. Natasha is being an idiota.”

Izzy shrugged and continued to eat her cake, ignoring the adults around her.

“So,” Natasha began. “How’s my best friend in the whole wide world doing?”

Camila and Lauren exchanged a look. “What do you want, Tasha?”

The Dominican giggled and rolled her eyes. “I don’t want anything,” she said but the couple wasn’t buying it. “I’m serious! Oh my god, when I try to be nice, you don’t want my niceness?” Lauren kinked an eyebrow at her. “Okay, fine. I was wondering if Hailee is like…I don’t know… single?”

“I mean, from what I know she recently broke up with her boyfriend,” Lauren said. She ran her fingers through her wife’s hair mindlessly. “Why do you wanna know?”

Natasha shrugged. “Oh, no reason. I was just wondering.” The table fell silent, until Camila grew bored and decided on dragging her wife up on stage with her so that they can perform.

“Anyway,” Camila stood and pulled Lauren up along with her. “Let’s sing!”

“Camz…” Lauren whined. “I don’t want to!”

It wasn’t that Lauren was a terrible singer, she just didn’t really like to do it. It was always Camila’s thing, the same way Camila didn’t like photography or having her photo taken, but due to her career, she had no choice but to grow accustomed to it.

The reason why Camila and Lauren had worked so well was that they both respected each other’s wishes. They didn’t force each other to do something they didn’t like or didn’t want to. But even if the other was uncomfortable with something and they knew their partner wanted to do it, they always pushed away their fear or dislike of something.

Especially Lauren, she was always the shyer, more reserved one amongst the two.

When Lauren is with Camila, she’s different. In a good way of course. She smiles and laughs more. She doesn’t have to pretend that everything is okay, when it’s really not. She can let her guard down. She can allow her walls to crumble without the fear of being hurt.

Camila doesn’t feel hurt and alone when she’s with Lauren. Instead, she feels safe and loved. She’s easy to talk to, and Lauren listens. She doesn’t have to worry about holding anything back because Lauren doesn’t judge her. She doesn’t ever feel insecure or sad, because she knows that she’s the only one that Lauren wants.

When you’re with someone, they’ll show you that they really do care, and they’re not just pretending.

When you’re with them, you’re different.

You’re happy.

Camila and Lauren sang effortlessly.

Whenever they’re together, whenever they do something together, it just flows so naturally. That’s when you know that they’re your person.

That’s when you know they’re the one.

Lauren took Camila’s hand in hers and pulled her close, the microphone in the other as she held it close to her lips.

“Everybody’s talking about heaven like they just can’t wait to go, Saying how it’s gonna be so good, so beautiful,” she trailed her hand down Camila’s arm, gazing lovingly into her wife’s beautiful brown eyes.

“Lying next to you, in this bed with you, I ain’t convinced, 'Cause, I don’t know how, I don’t know how heaven, heaven…” Camila brought Lauren’s hand to her lips and kissed her palm. “I love you,” she mouthed as she stared into Lauren’s eyes.

“Could be better than this (heaven) Could be better than this (heaven, heaven),” They sang together, as the music slowly faded in the background.

Once the song was over, Lauren dropped her microphone on the floor, and cupped Camila’s cheeks. “I am so in love with you, Camila Jauregui. So irrevocably in love with you.”

She kissed Camila with every ounce of passion that she had burning inside of her. Every ounce of love and need that she had for this woman. That she had for her wife. She kissed her like it was going to be their last kiss.

Don’t ever take the one you love for granted because you never know when you’ll run out of time. The thing about some relationships is that they just end. You can compare it to a star. They burn bright and brilliant for quite some time, and then for no particular reason, they just reach their end. Nothing goes wrong.

In a sense, I guess, they just burn out.

So embrace the time you have with someone. Love them like you’re going to lose them. Give them your all, only if they’re deserving of it.

Love with no regrets.

***

Wattpad: Commander_Camren

#UPDATE #series #g!p #camren #angst drama #family #humour #romance fluff #submission #Why Did I Get Married

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brain-deadx0 · 6 years ago

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I’ve always been afraid of losing all my friends

Being asexual in a world full of people can be hard sometimes. Especially when you’re an ace in a mostly opposite gendered group.

I’ve always had trouble making female friends, to this day I only have one, so naturally my friend group is pretty much all mostly straight guys. For me they were just easier to relate to and get a long with.

Even before realizing that there was a term for asexuality I have always been relatively open about being ace with my friends. I wouldn’t bring it up but if someone asked I would tell them.

Most of my friends didn’t date during school. We were all pretty much considered weirdos and outcasts. But I knew that eventually they would start to date and there was a good chance I would be left behind. I tried not to think much about it and was able to ignore that possibility 99% of the time. But when I would think about what life would be like after graduating it always popped into my head.

Most girls probably wouldn’t be super thrilled with their boyfriend hanging out with a close female friend and I knew this. I also know that at some point your partner would become more important than your friend. I’m mostly ok with that. But I don’t want to completely lose my friends because of it either.

When my friends did start dating after high school I tried to be inclusive with their partners. When we got groups together to go hang out I always let my friend know that their partner was more than welcome to come. I did this with my best friends wife as well. But even though I pretty much always let the girls/guy know that I’m ace (usually finds a way to come up in conversation with them or between them and my friends) me being a girl always seems to be a problem.

My best friends wife hates me. She threw away my invite to the wedding without telling my best friend so that I wouldn’t be there and the only reason I found out about it was because another one of my friends asked me if I wanted to carpool to the wedding. (My best friend would’ve told me anyway because he asked me to be the wedding photographer about a week later) Now I barely get to see my friend because every time we try to plan a day to hang out, even when his wife is invited by me, something always comes up.

I don’t mind being the odd wheel in groups. As long as I get to have fun with my friends and see them. But because I’m ace it’s harder to even get the group.

This is a problem for a lot of asexual people. When their friends start dating they stop getting invited to things because their friends don’t want them to feel like a third wheel. But eventually we stop hearing from them almost completely.

I take this extra hard because I’ve been abandoned by all my friends before. Friends I had known since I was little and was really close with stopped talking to me abruptly and never gave me a reason why. The same friends who were there for me when I first started getting bullied after moving to a new school. The same ones who called my grandparents grandma and grandpa because we went to each other’s houses so much. After that I went a few years without any friends because no one at my school wanted to be friends with me. Some would pretend to be but as soon as they were done using me or had their chance to embarrass me they were done.

I am happy for my friends when they find someone they really like because it makes them happy. But I know that there’s a good chance that eventually I’m going to be by myself again because of the stupid stigma that is somehow ingrained into societies beliefs that two people of opposite gender can’t be just friends with no sexual attraction to each other.

My other best friend has even had boyfriends that got jealous and mad because I was friends with him. My friend is 100% gay. He has no interest in dating girls. He has had his sexuality questioned by his partners simply because of that idiotic belief. So far he hasn’t met anyone he’s willing to leave me for and honestly I’m thankful for that. I do want him to meet someone (and he is in a relationship now) that he will put above me because it will mean he’s really happy. I just hope that it won’t have to mean the end of our friendship.

Like I said I get that at some point in a relationship your partner will become more important than your friends. I understand that when going in groups with your partner you don’t want to invite single friends because you don’t want them to feel left out. I also understand that your partner might not want to you hang out, especially alone, with someone of the opposite gender (or same for lgbt couples)

But,

Please don’t ditch your ace friends just because you start dating.

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lindoig3 · 6 years ago

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Wednesday-Thursday, 30, 31 January

As it turned out, it was probably a good thing that we didn’t stay the extra night in Pooncarie because we copped a little rain on the road north to Wilcannia and even though it was not much more than a few patchy showers, the road became muddy and a bit treacherous in several places. The wheel arches on the car started to fill with mud and the front of the van was covered with a couple of inches of red-orange goo before we got to Wilcannia. Our two previous visits to this town have been a little scary with street brawling and intimidating crowds of belligerent aboriginals roaming about and I was determined never to stay there – but this time everything seemed exceptionally peaceful.

We had to get fuel and then drove around town just to see if there was anything interesting. We stopped to photograph the few puddles that constituted the Darling and I noticed that we had a flat tyre on the van just as it started to rain in earnest. I had checked the tyres 1 kilometre earlier at the service station and they were all OK – alas no longer! I walked back to the servo to see if there was anyone around to help (there wasn’t) and as I was coming back, I saw this bikie-looking hood talking to Heather beside the van. Turns out that he was the best bikie-looking hood we could have encountered! We had some problems with our jack (and couldn’t remember how to use it anyway) but he simply drove home and brought back his big hydraulic jack and basically changed the wheel for us. He looked dreadful, but was an angel in disguise. He lives in Broken Hill but was looking after the caravan park for his aunt who was in hospital so we decided to stay in the park overnight based on his assurance that the problems we had encountered in the past no longer applied – and they didn’t. Of course, all the time we were working on the wheel, it was bucketing down and we were soon soaked through but changed into clean dry clothes as soon as we had the van set up for the night.

I am not sure how widespread the rain was, but it followed us from Pooncarie and I am reasonably sure we would not have been able to make it if any more rain had fallen along the track – it would soon have been too boggy and slippery for us and our van. It rained on and off during the night so in retrospect, we were glad we had not stayed in Pooncarie – but it is definitely a place we would be happy to revisit.

Thursday 31 January

It was another hot day when we set out for Broken Hill via White Cliffs. We have visited White Cliffs a couple of times before and thought it quaint so drove the nearly 100 clicks to explore it a bit more. It was frightfully hot and dry up there – couldn’t even keep saliva in your mouth it was so dry, but we parked under a tree and kept the engine and A/C running while we had our lunch then struck out again for the Hill. We got confused about which road to take because I assumed we were going one way and Heather thought we had to retrace our steps from the morning so we asked the only local we could find. He had only been a third of the way along the road I was proposing to take but he said it was so terrible that he wouldn’t go on it again – so we set off back to Wilcannia again and the somewhat desolate Barrier Highway to Broken Hill.

On each of our several previous visits, we had always stayed at a particular caravan park in Broken Hill, but we had recently been referred to the Racecourse CP as a better alternative. It turned out to be a little cheaper and probably more pleasant even if a bit further out of town. In setting up, we found that our hydraulic jockey wheel jack had died (despite being overhauled shortly before leaving home) and one of our gas bottles then ran out. Later we found that part of our toilet cannister was jammed so we had to use the Racecourse facilities instead of our own. And of course, we had to get our puncture fixed so it was obviously going to be a busy Friday trying to get some of these jobs ticked off.

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yslbyhesfanfics · 6 years ago

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Chapter One - The Come Backs.

It was few months since they parted their ways, he was off to well deserved vacation somewhere in the world with some of his influential friends, she on the other hand was headed back to called London, with a broken heart and her mind trying to find the peace and rationally telling her it was the only good decision they both had. It was few months since they said that last goodbyes and didn't really talk much, while her heart still ached for him, waking in middle of the night whispering his name.

She missed Harry more than she missed anything in the world, and she could make a list of what she missed. Like that mean mexican restaurant they visited during few days stop in Mexico City. He kind of introduced her to the restaurant, as he visited few times before. She missed the cocktails they had while being in Italy, the air infused with salt from the sea. Somehow, he was in addition to everything she missed.

It was late at night and her mind was boozed with cheap wine from grocery store down the street. She was watching some tutorials on photography, not really paying attention as her mind traveled miles to wherever he was. She wondered what he was doing, until her phone buzzing interrupted her.

Jeffrey Azoff

Nina could probably call Jeffrey her friend now, after all he third wheeled most of the time they went out and she hoped he wouldn't. It was his manager, but in fact also her boss, kind of.

„Heyy, Jeff. What's up?“ she tried to sound sober, but failed miserably.

„Hi. Uhm, so. I need you in New York City tomorrow, all geared up, I sent you email with your boarding passes and instruction for hotel and also a schedule. If that's alright. You still in London, right?“ this defintiely helped her sober up. She didn't really expect to be called up for work for few months, maybe a year. After all, Harry would have to make new album, plan tour, and then tour for her to actually go and take pictures of him and the band. She still wasn't over him, over the wonderful eighteen months they spent together, from the very scratch of basically auditioning and trying to prove them, that her photography career was legit and worth their time.

"Yeah, same old, still London." she said quietly, her voice shaking a bit. "So, what is this about?"

"Ahh, new single, Harry hurried up with the album actually. Told him too many times to slow down a bit." my heart skipped few beats when I heard his name. None of my friends actually talked about it, I didn't really talk relationships with them, or maybe because under a non disclosure contract. But hearing his name from someone else's mouth, it felt weird.

"That man never stops, right?" Nina tried to sound casual, she didn't know how much did Harry tell Jeff, if anything. Probably something.

"Well you know him, a workaholic he is." she silently agreed.

"Okay, I'll get to packing then, how long am I staying in New York?"

"That's the thing. It's a bit of a promo tour. Eight cities across the USA, then UK. Approximately a month of promoting. Garry from videography department is just landing." She missed Garry to be honest. One of the people who worked for Harry since the start of his solo career, and one of the people who became friends for her. So she was happy to know she would have one familiar friendly face to talk to.

"Okay, I'll get myself ready and check the email. See you tomorrow, Jeff." She said quietly, before he said goodbye and hung up. Nina checked the email to see my flight was at five am, so it meant she had literally three hours to get ready before she should call an Uber and head to airport. She was pretty sure they tried to contact others for photography and she was the last person to call. She had a knot around her stomach when she thought about being in his presence and was sure that Harry wasn't the happiest person about this as well.

As much as it seemed like parting in peace, there were emotions that were building up past few weeks, they just stopped working as a couple and that was it. The moment he said the sentence she felt in the air couple of days before, her heart broke, but couldn't say she wasn't expecting it. He was much rather with his friends out somewhere partying and boozing himself to the point he woke her in middle of the night, pushing the night stand to side accidentally. Falling to bed next to her and immediately falling asleep. Sometimes she wondered if it was her, who made him drought away. Was it anything she said? Or anything she has done?

Her hands where shaky as she was preparing all her cameras and memory cards into the camera bag, picking all the lenses she would possibly need. Then picking some basic clothes, she didn't need to impress anyone, she used to love dress up a bit for him. Knowing she would be in the public eye judged by millions of fans. But sometimes it felt like black tee and black skinny jeans wouldn't do much harm.

She was running out of time to get ready, so she took a quick shower, let her shoulder length brown hair air dry as she quickly did her skin care routine and packing all things she used into a cosmetics bag, including her make up to another one, brushing her teeth while throwing everything into a big luggage and a her laptop to her carry on. She cursed at Jeff too many times, when she nearly tripped over the coffee table in her living room, trying to get dressed, but also to not forget all chargers and mainly her phone. As she was ready to leave, she knocked on her friend who lived two floors under her, giving her keys so someone would water her orchidees. Amy gave her sympathic look, as she knew where exactly was she headed, and how is her heart going to ache.

Amy was a blonde haired girl who knew Harry thanks to her boyfriend and his friends, so when the word of him looking for a new photographer got out, she immediately thought of Nina Shaw. Amy still could remember the day she moved into the same building, dropping her favorite vase in front of the house, cursing and sitting on the first step. She looked lost and angry, but there was something about her, so Amy did her good deed of the day and helped her to get things out of her car to her new apartment, and later that day, to even unpack all stuff and find its place. They immediately bonded and became close friends, having wine Fridays and brunch Sundays. Amy worked as a mediocre model, her career hitting of basically through connections and Instagram. So having a good photographer as one of her closest friends was definitely useful.

"Please try not to get hurt by him again." she said as they broke off the tight hug.

"You are saying that as if he is evil." Nina tried to laugh it off, always acting tough.

"I know him longer than you, don't forget." she just nodded, leaving her and hurrying to her Uber driver then helping her with her luggages.

* * *

The landings weren't her favorite, she managed to get a bit of sleep and had to deal with terrible hungover now. She waited a bit for her luggage, planning to get a coffee before heading to her hotel, she rushed out of the arrivals room before the biggest wave of travelers hit and it would be impossible to get a cab rightaway, all she was planning was to get a bit of sleep before she had to face her stupidly rich and famous ex boyfriend.

Her calculations and plans ruined by a simple paper with her last name on it, as if she wouldn't recognize his face anywhere in the world. He tried to look casual, having big sunglasses on his face, wearing simple black oversized hoodie and black skinnies. It was long time since she last saw him wear those, he switched pretty quickly to bit high waisted paper bag trousers when he tried them on.

"Nina." he waved at her, she still could pretend she didn't hear him. But as few people in front of her turned to him and his voice, she had no other choice. She waved at him lightly, cuddling more into her warm sweatshirt and then going to his direction. She is going to kill Jeff for this.

"Hey." she said quietly, letting him to take her luggage and carry on, leaving her only the camera bag and her purse. He was looking at her, as he was bit shocked her once long hair were gone.

"You cut your hair." he said, without any emotion in his voice.

"I cut my hair, yeah." she repeated, Nina wasn't quite sure as how to behave now, he was pretty much her boss, but also her ex boyfriend she still was head over heels for.

"Why?" he stopped at his car and opened the truck.

"Felt like I need a change it up a bit." She said, avoiding his eye contact at all costs, getting to the back seat of the car. He didn't really make a comment about why she didn't take the passenger seat next to him, after he close the trunk and got to his seat, it was dead silent.

Nina zoomed out while watching the way pass by, the buildings being tall and eventually her eyes closed and she took a short nap before he parked in the garages of a penthouse he rented for this summer. Jeff didn't know anything about him picking her up, it just felt stupid for him to let her stay at some cheap hotels because Jeffery wouldn't spend more than needed on staff's acommodation. Three stars were enough, as he said.

Harry sat in the car in silence for about twenty more minutes, before Nina started waking up, looking around confused and then meeting his eyes in the mirror of the car. His eyes were dull, with no expression. She used to love the color of his eyes, the dimples on his cheeks and his damn beautiful smile, now she felt like choking as she was looking at him without any word said for couple of moments.

"Where are we?" she said quietly, stretching her arms a bit.

"My penthouse." he said firmly, his voice monotone. She couldn't really read him at all.

"Why?"

"The hotel wasn't nice." he said simply and got ouf the car.

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #fan fiction #fan fic

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cristinapachecoart · 6 years ago

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Eleven Rabbits

This is “Eleven Rabbits”, my illustration inspired by short story “Letter to a Young Lady in Paris”, by Julio Cortazar, originally called “Carta a una Señorita en Paris”, from his book “Bestiario”.

This illustration was created for the collective art exhibition “Casa Tomada”, as a part of “Queremos tanto a Julio!” , the Literature and Film show organized by Fobica Fest at Estación Rayuela Cafe.

Here I share with you a translation of the short story, please don’t mind the possible mistakes in English grammar.

Letter to a Young Lady in Paris

Andrée, I didn’t want to come live in your apartment in Suipacha street. Not so much because of the rabbits, but rather because it hurts me to intrude on a closed order, built even to the finest nets of air, networks that in your environment conserve the music in the lavender, the heavy fluff of the powder puff in the talcum, the play between the violin and the viola in Ravel’s quartet. It’s bitter for me to come into an ambience where someone who lives beautifully has arranged everything like a visible affirmation of her soul, here the books (Spanish on one side, French and English on the other), the large green cushions there, the crystal ashtray that looks like a soap-bubble that’s been cut open on this exact spot on the little table, and always a perfume, a sound, a sprouting of plants, a photograph of the dead friend, the ritual of tea trays and sugar tongs … Ah, dear Andrée, how difficult it is to stand counter to, yet to accept with perfect submission of one’s whole being, the elaborate order that a woman establishes in her own gracious flat. How much at fault one feels taking a small metal cup and putting it at the far end of the table, setting it there simply because one has brought one’s English dictionaries and it’s at this end, within easy reach of the hand, that they ought to be. To move that cup is the equivalent of an unexpected horrible crimson in the middle of one of Ozenfant’s painterly cadences, as if suddenly the strings of all the double basses snapped at the same time with the same dreadful whiplash at the most hushed instant in a Mozart symphony. Moving that cup alters the play of relationships in the whole house, of each object with another, of each moment of their soul with the soul of the house and its absent inhabitant. And I cannot bring my fingers close to a book, hardly change a lamp’s cone of light, open the piano bench, without feeling a rivalry and offense swinging before my eyes like a flock of sparrows.

You know why I came to your house, to your peaceful living room scooped out of the noonday light. Everything looks so natural, as always when one does not know the truth. You’ve gone off to Paris, I am left with the apartment in Suipacha street, we draw up a simple and satisfactory living plan convenient to both of us until September brings you back again to Buenos Aires and I amble off to some other house where perhaps… but I’m not writing you for that reason, I was sending this letter to you because of the rabbits, it seems only fiar to let you know; and because I like to write letters, and maybe too because it’s raining.

I moved last Thursday in a haze overlaid by weariness, at five in the afternoon. I’ve closed so many suitcases in my life, I’ve passed so many hours preparing luggage that never manages to get moved anyplace, that Thursday was a day full of shadows and straps, because when I look at valise straps it’s as though I were seeing shadows, as though they were parts of a whip that flogs me in some indirect way, very subtly and horribly. But I packed the bags, let your maid know I was coming to move in. I was going up in the elevator and just between the first and second floors I felt that I was going to vomit up a bunny. I have never described this to you before, not so much, I don’t think, from lack of truthfulness as that, just naturally, one is not going to explain to people at large that from time to time one vomits up a small rabbit. I have always managed to be alone when it happens, guarding the fact much as we guard so many of our privy acts, evidences of our physical selves which happen to us in total privacy. Don’t reproach me for it, Andrée, don’t blame me. Once in a while it happens that I vomit up a bunny. It’s no reason not to live in whatever house, it’s not reason for one to blush and isolate oneself and to walk around keeping one’s mouth shut.

When I feel that I’m going to bring up a rabbit, I put two fingers in my mouth like an open pincer, and I wait to feel the lukewarm fluff rise in my throat like the effervescence in sal hepatica. It’s all swift and clean, passes in the briefest instant. I remove the fingers from my mouth and in them, held fast by the ears, a small white rabbit, only it’s white and very thoroughly a a rabbit. I set it in the palm of my hand, I smooth the fluff, caressing it with two fingers; the bunny seems satisfied with having been born and waggles and pushes its muzzle against my skin, with that quiet and tickling nibble of a rabbit’s mouth against the skin of the hand. He’s looking for something to eat, and then (I’m talking about when this happened at my house on the outskirts) I take him with me out to the balcony and set him down in the big flowerpot among the clover that I’ve grown there with this in mind. The bunny raises his ears as high as they can go, surrounds a tender clover leaf with a quick little wheeling motion of his snout, and I know that I can leave him there now and go on my way for a time, lead a life not very different from people who buy their rabbits at farmhouses.

Between the first and second floors, then, Andrée, like an omen of what my life in your house was going to be, I realized that I was going to vomit a rabbit. At that point I was afraid (or was it surprise? No, perhaps fear of the same surprise) because, before leaving my house, only two days before, I’d vomited a bunny and so was safe for a month, five weeks, maybe six with a little luck. Now, look, I’d resolved the problem perfectly. I grew clover on the balcony of my other house, vomited a bunny, put it in the clover and at the end of a month, when I suspected that any moment… then I made a present of the rabbit, already grown enough, to ma’am De Molina, who believed I had a hobby and was quiet about it. In another flowerpot tender and propitious clover was already growing, I awaited without concern the morning when the tickling sensation of fluff rising obstructed my throat, and the little rabbit reiterated from that hour the life and habits of its predecessor. Habits, Andrée, are concrete forms of rhythm, are that portion of rhythm which helps to keep us alive. Vomiting bunnies wasn’t so terrible once one had gotten into the unvarying cycle, into the method. You will want to know why all this work, why all that clover and ma’am De Molina. It would have been easier to kill the little thing right away and… Ah, you should vomit one up all by yourself, take it in two fingers and set it in your opened hand, still attached to yourself by the act itself, by the indefinable aura of its proximity, barely now broken away. A month puts a lot of thing sat a distance; a month is size, long fur, long leaps, ferocious eyes, an absolute difference. Andrée, a month is a rabbit, it really makes a real rabbit; but in the maiden moment, the warm bustling fleece covering an inalienable presence… like a poem in its first minutes, “fruit of an Idumean night” as much as one as oneself… and afterwards not so much one, so distant and isolated in its flat white world the size of a letter.

With all that, I decided to kill the rabbit almost as soon as it was born. I was going to live at your place for four months: four, perhaps with luck three – tablespoons full of alcohol down its throat. (Do you know pity permits you to kill a small rabbit instantly by giving it a tablespoon of alcohol to drink? Its flesh tastes better afterward, they say, however, I… Three or four tablespoons full of alcohol, then the bathroom or a package to put in the rubbish.)

Rising past the third floor, the rabbit was moving in the palm of my hand. Sara was waiting upstairs to help me get the valises in… Could I explain that it was a whim? Something about passing a pet store? I wrapped the tiny creature in my handkerchief, put him into my overcoat pocket, leaving the overcoat unbuttoned so as not to squeeze him. He barely budged. His minuscule consciousness would be revealing important facts: that life is a movement upward with a final click, and is also a low ceiling, white and smelling of lavender, enveloping you in the bottom of a warm pit.

Sara saw nothing, she was too fascinated with the arduous problem of adjusting her sense of order to my valise-and-footlocker, my papers and my peevishness at her elaborate explanations in which the words “for example” occurred with distressing frequency. I could hardly get the bathroom door closed; to kill it now. A delicate area of heat surrounded the handkerchief, the little rabbit was extremely white and, I think, prettier than the others. He wasn’t looking at me, he just hopped about and was being content, which was even worse than looking at me. I shut him in the empty medicine chest and went on unpacking, disoriented but not unhappy, not feeling guilty, not soaping up my hands to get off the feel of a final convulsion.

I realized that I could not kill him. But that same night I vomited a black bunny. And two days later another white one. And on the fourth night a tiny grey one.

You must love the handsome wardrobe in your bedroom, with its great door that opens so generously, its empty shelves awaiting my clothes. Now I have them in there. Inside there. True, it seems impossible; not even Sara would believe it. That Sara did not suspect anything, was the result of my continuous preoccupation with a task that takes over my days and nights with the singleminded crash of the portcullis falling, and I go about hardened inside, calcined like that starfish you’ve put aboe the bathtub, and at every bath I take it seems all at once to swell with salt and whiplashes of sun and great rumbles of profundity.

They sleep during the day. There are ten of them. During the day they sleep. With the door closed, the wardrobe is a diurnal night for them alone, where they sleep out their night in a sedate obedience. When I leave for work I take the bedroom keys with me. Sara must think that I mistrust her honesty and looks at me doubtfully, every morning she looks as though she’s about to say something to me, but in the end she remains silent and I am that much happier. (When she straightens up the bedroom between nine and ten, I make noise in the living room, put on a Benny Carter record which fills the whole apartment, and as Sara is a saetas and pasodobles fan, the wardrobe seems to be silent, and for the most part is, because for the rabbits it’s night still and repose is the order of the day.)

Their day begins an hour after supper when Sara brings in the tray with the delicate tinkling of the sugar tongs, wishes me good night – yes, she wishes me, Andrée, the most ironic thing is that she wishes me good night – shuts herself in her room, and promptly I’m by myself, alone with the closed-up wardrobe, alone with my obligation and my melancholy.

I let them out, they hop agilely to the party in the living room, sniffing briskly at the clover hidden in my pockets which makes ephemeral lacy patterns on the carpet which they alter, remove, finish up in a minute. They eat well, quietly and correctly; until that moment i have nothing to say, I just watch them from the sofa, a useless book in my hand – I who wanted to read all of Giraudoux, Andrée, and López’s Argentine history that you keep on the lower shelf – and they eat up the clover.

There are ten. Almost all of them white They lift their warm heads toward the lamps in the living room, the three motionless suns of their day; they love the light because their night has neither moon nor sun nor stars nor street lamps. They gaze at their triple sun and are content. That’s when they hop about on the carpet, into the chairs, then tiny blotches shift like a moving constellation from one part to another, while I’d like to see them quiet, see them at my feet and being quiet – somewhat the dream of any god, Andrée, a dream the gods never see fulfilled – something quite different from wriggling in behind the portrait of Miguel de Unamuno, then off to the pale green urn, over into the dark hollow of the writing desk, always fewer than ten, always six or eight and I asking myself where the two are that are missing, and what if Sara should get up for some reason, and the presidency of Rivadavia which is what I want to read in López’s history.

Andrée, I don’t know how I stand up under it. You remember that i came to your place for some rest. It’s not my fault if I vomit a bunny from time to time, if this moving changed me inside as well – not nominalism, it’s not magic either, it’s just that things cannot alter like that ll at once, sometimes things reverse themselves brutally and when you expect the slap on the right cheek -. Like that, Andrée, or some other way, but always like that.

It’s night while I’m writing you. It’s three in the afternoon, but I’m writing you during their night. They sleep during the day. What a relief this office is! Filled with shouts, commands, Royal typewriters, vice presidents and mimeograph machines! What a relief, what peace, what horror, Andrée! They’re calling me to the telephone now. It was some friends upset about my monasterial nights, Luis inviting me out for a stroll or Jorge insisting – he’s bought a ticket for me for this concert. I hardly dare to say no to them, I invent long and ineffectual stories about my poor health, I’m behind in the translations, any evasion possible. And when I get back home and am in the elevator – that stretch between the first and second floors – night after night, hopelessly, I formulate the vain hope that really it isn’t true.

I’m doing the best I can to see that they don’t break your things. They’ve nibbled away a little at the books on the lowest shelf, you’ll find the backs repasted, which I did so that Sara wouldn’t notice it. That lamp with the porcelain belly full of butterflies and old cowboys, do you like that very much? The crack where the piece was broken out barely shows, I spent a whole night doing it with a special cement that they sold me in an English shop – you know the English stores have the best cements – and now I sit beside it so that one of them can’t reach it again with its paws (it’s almost lovely to see how they like to stand on their hind legs, nostalgia for that so-distant humanity, perhaps an imitation of their god walking about and looking at them darkly; besides which, you will have observed – when you were a baby, perhaps – that you can put a bunny in the corner against the wall like a punishment, and he’ll stand there, paws against the wall and very quiet, for hours and hours).

At 5 A.M. (I slept a little stretched out on the green sofa, waking up at every velvety-soft dash, every slightest clink) I put them in the wardrobe and do the cleaning up. That way Sara always finds everything in order, although at times I’ve noticed a restrained astonishment, a stopping to look at some object, a slight discoloration in the carpet, and again the desire to ask me something, but then I’m whistling Franck’s Symphonic Variations in a way that always prevents her. How can I tell you about it, Andrée, the minute mishaps of this soundless and vegetal dawn, half-asleep on what staggered path picking up butt-ends of clover, individual leaves, white hunks of fur, falling against the furniture, crazy from lack of sleep, and I’m behind in my Gide, Troyat I haven’t gotten to translating, and my reply to a distant young lady who will be asking herself already if… why go on with all this, why go on with this letter I keep trying to write between telephone calls and interviews.

Andrée, dear Andrée, my consolation is that there are ten of them and no more. It’s been fifteen days since I held the last bunny in the palm of my hand, since then nothing, only the ten of them with me, their diurnal night and growing, ugly already and getting long hair, adolescents now and full of urgent needs and crazy whims, leaping on top of the bust of Antinoös (it is Antinoös, isn’t it, that boy who looks blindly?) or losing themselves in the living room where their movements make resounding thumps, so much so that I ought to chase them out of there for fear that Sara will hear them and appear before me in a fright and probably in her nightgown – it would have to be like that with Sara, she’d be in her nightgown – and then… Only ten, think of that little happiness I have in the middle of it all, the growing calm with which, on my return home, I cut past the rigid ceilings of the first and second floors.

...

I was interrupted because I had to attend a committee meeting. I’m continuing the letter here at your house, Andrée, under the soundless grey light of another dawn. Is it really the next day, Andrée? A bit of white on the page will be all you’ll have to represent the bridge, hardly a period on a page between yesterday’s letter and today’s. How tell you that in the interval everything has gone smash? Where you see that simple period I hear the circling belt of water break the dam in its fury, this side of the paper for me, this side of my letter to you I can’t write with the same calm which I was sitting in when I had to put it aside to go to the committee meeting. Wrapped in their cube of night, sleeping without a worry in the world, eleven bunnies; perhaps even now, but no, not now – In the elevator then, or coming into the building; it’s not important now where, if the when is now, if it can happen in any now of those that are left to me.

Enough now, I’ve written this because it’s important to me to let you know that I was not at all that responsible for the unavoidable and helpless destruction of your home. I’ll leave this letter here for you, it would be indecent if the mailman should deliver it some fine clear morning in Paris. last night i turned the books on the second shelf in the other direction; they were already reaching that high, standing up on their hind legs or jumping, they gnawed off the backs to sharpen their teeth – not that they were hungry, they had all the clover I had bought for them, I store it in the drawers of the writing desk. They tore the curtains, the coverings on the easy chairs, the edge of Augusto Torres’ self-portrait, they got fluff all over the rug and besides they yipped, there’s no word for it, they stood in a circle under the light of the lamp, in a circle as though they were adoring me, and suddenly they were yipping, they were screaming like I never believed rabbits could scream.

I tried in vain to pick up all the hair that was ruining the rug, to smooth out the edges of the fabric they’d chewed on, to shut them up again in the wardrobe. Day is coming, maybe Sara’s getting up early. It’s almost strange, I’m not worried so much about Sara. It’s almost weird, I’m not disturbed to see them gamboling about looking for something to play with. I’m not so much to blame, you’ll see when you get here that I’ve repaired a lot of the things that were broken with the cement I bought in the English shop, I did what I could to keep from being a nuisance… As far as I’m concerned, going from ten to eleven is like an unbridgeable chasm. You understand: ten was fine, with a wardrobe, clover and hope, so many things could happen for the better. But not with eleven, because to say eleven is already to say twelve for sure, and Andrée, twelve would be thirteen. So now it’s dawn and a cold solitude in which happiness ends, reminiscences, you and perhaps a good deal more. This balcony over Suipacha street is filled with dawn, the first sounds of the city waking. I don’t think it will be difficult to pick up eleven small rabbits splattered over the pavement, perhaps they won’t even be noticed, people will be too occupied with the other body, it would be more proper to remove it quickly before the early students pass through on their way to school.

Leer en Español.

Buy Prints.

Other sources:

http://www.milenio.com/cultura/dedican-ciclo-literatura-cine-julio-cortazar

https://www.informador.mx/cultura/Por-amor-a-Julio-Cortazar-20180703-0170.html

http://www.asich.com/index.php?itemid=48925&catid=2#more

#Julio Cortazar #Letter to a Young Lady in Paris #Bestiario #eleven rabbits #female illustrators #latin american literature

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