#and then it whiplashes you into stuff like the twisted hallways. it's so cool

[aquanutart]

[hybridequalist]

Thinking Out Loud (Part 4)

Okay, so I ended up lying. This is a few months late to the cross-post from AO3. (Link here) But in any case, here it is if you prefer to read on tumblr.

Previous Chapter (tumblr link)

Taglist: @nesli26, @manga-crazy, @venomemes, @galleyleelol, @makingtimemine, @jackie-sugarskull, @nightshade7117, @skysthelimit291, @randomshizzles101, @inumorph, @snow-massacre, @phantom-fangirl-stuff, @pixellated-sparks, @vsalamandor2, @otaku-mai, @snarky-badger​

You woke up slowly, feeling heavy from a deep, dreamless sleep. The apartment was eerily quiet aside from a faint scraping sound repeating over and over. Your psychic “hearing” took a minute to focus on the three minds in the other room, but once it did, you were overwhelmed by the internal conversation Eddie and Venom were having.

“I LIKE THIS FEMALE. WE SHOULD OFFER OUR PROTECTION TO HER. ”

“I don’t think that would go over well. Remember the last time we were tased? ”

“SHE DOESN’T HAVE TO KNOW. ”

“Consent is important buddy. Not to mention we don't wanna freak out the tenants either."

Lauren's thoughts were more structured--she was writing her words down and concentrating on that communication. However, that didn't stop her from sneaking glances at Eddie and sizing him up, trying to guess details about his life and personality. Currently she was sneaking glances at his biceps...for some reason you really didn’t want to dwell on too long.

"EDDIE, I HEAR HER," Venom whispered to his host. Like, actually whispered; his mental voice was somehow quieter than usual.

“She’s awake? That was faster than I thought. She seem ok? ”

“I THINK SHE’S LISTENING IN. MORSEL, IF YOU ARE, GO AHEAD AND KEEP RESTING. WE WILL OCCUPY THE COLORFUL FEMALE .”

The last two words were accompanied by a mental image of Lauren with an intense focus on her vibrant hair and current choice of large earrings. You also caught the tail end of a thought that was very distinctly non-human and carried traces of a predatory desire to grab the shiny, colorful things. Eddie’s thoughts quickly curbed it--a nonverbal suppression that Venom agreed with.

You slumped back into the mattress, turning your gaze inward as you stretched and assessed your body.

You were a little sore, especially in your chest. The hyperventilation from the panic attack really did a number on you it seemed. Your hands also felt a little stiff in the joints, but it didn’t hurt to move them.

Panic attacks didn’t always end up hurting after the fact, but it wasn’t wholly uncommon. Fatigue was usually the worst aftereffect, your body struggling to recover from your survival response to an imagined threat. It sometimes went away after a good sleep, but today was going to be one of those days where the heaviness settled into your bones and made even the smallest tasks far more tiring than they ought to be.

The once-over complete, you decided you were up for leaving the bed...but not the blanket, which dragged on the floor after you like a fluffy train. You gently pushed open the door and poked your head out, peering at the kitchen down the hall, catching sight of Eddie's leather jacket at the corner of the table.

A jolt of nerves coiled in your stomach and you pulled the blanket cloak around you a little tighter. With Eddie and Venom’s attention focused mostly on Lauren, their thoughts didn’t reflect what they thought of your panic attack. What if they thought you were pathetic? Or too fragile to be around? What if they had never seen a panic attack and thought you were somehow sick?

“EDDIE, SHE’S UP. SHE’S IN THE HALL. HER BREATHING WENT ALL FUNNY AGAIN. ”

Venom’s rumbling thoughts broke through the returning panic spiral. With effort, you stepped out from the hallway and into Lauren’s line of sight. Eddie caught your gaze, brow furrowed, but before you could properly react to him, your landlady took up your view.

Lauren looked you up and down, appraising your condition. While her face seemed only lightly concerned, her thoughts were at war: her motherly tendency to worry battled with her desire to give you space and the noverbal clash of feelings was giving you secondhand mental whiplash.

“Do you need something to eat? Or drink?” she signed. You replied with the sign for water and she bustled off to fill a glass.

“So, uh,” Eddie started, then paused, looking for the right words to finish his question. He finally went with: “How are you doin’ right now? Did your rest do you any good?”

You nodded and sat next to him at the table, reaching for the notepad he and Lauren had used before your arrival.

I’m achy, but otherwise fine now. Mostly.

“YOU WERE HIGHLY DISTRESSED. DID SOMETHING HAPPEN? CAN WE STOP IT FROM HAPPENING TO YOU AGAIN? ”

Venom’s concern felt...oddly directed. He didn’t fully understand what had happened and Eddie’s explanations hadn’t entirely cleared up his confusion. He was under the impression that someone had threatened you or you had some logical reason to freak out. He wanted to find the source of that stress and remove it, like pulling out a thorn.

Mindful that Lauren would probably read whatever you wrote down later, you set about composing your explanation.

It was a panic attack. Sometimes there’s a reason, but most of the time, I start thinking about something stressful and it gets so overwhelming my body reacts like I’m actually in danger.

Eddie and Venom conferred briefly about your explanation and suddenly the symbiote had a new question. You felt your gut twist as you felt the guilt his thoughts now carried.

“DID WE DO THAT TO YOU? DID WE FRIGHTEN YOU OR STRESS YOU? ”

Again, you were careful with your words.

It wasn’t anything you directly said or did. It was more about the prospect of being in a social situation at all. I don’t go out much, so I started overthinking the minor details. It spiraled really quickly from there.

Lauren put down a tall glass of ice water on the table in front of you. You signed your thanks, put down the pen and gulped the cool liquid, savoring the relief it brought your scratchy throat.

“How long was I asleep?” you asked Lauren.

“4 hours.”

“You���ve been talking to Eddie for 4 hours?!”

“He has to write really slow for me to read it. His normal handwriting is too messy. Plus, we took a lunch break.”

Lunch break?! You snatched the pen back up.

I’m so sorry I had to miss out on the lunch. You wanted to show me something and

Eddie’s hand intercepted yours, not grabbing it but rather gently holding you back from writing any more. It was only a moment of skin contact, but it made a jolt run through you and immediately snagged your attention.

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I’m just glad you’re ok and gonna be getting better. We can reschedule if you want. No problem.”

You instinctively glanced up, looking for his thoughts. You found nothing but sincerity from Eddie. Venom was....well, you weren’t actually sure what he was thinking. On a surface level, he agreed with his host, but underneath that there was some lingering frustration. The symbiote had apparently been really excited to show you something and this forced patience wasn’t entirely sitting well with him.

You carefully moved Eddie’s still-hovering hand and started on a new line.

What about the stuff you wanted to talk about? You wrote, uncertainty and guilt still gnawing at you.

“It can wait. Seriously. My buddy wasn’t even really ready to show off his new trick; he gets excited easy.”

“I SPENT ALL NIGHT PRACTICING! I AM TOTALLY READY! APOLOGIZE! ”

“You’re ready, Vee, but it’s my hands you need if you want to show her in public. And it’s a little soon to invite her to the apartment. ”

“SHE’S ALREADY BEEN TO THERE. I DON’T SEE WHAT THE HOLD UP IS .”

“Those...were extenuating circumstances. And besides, it was more you than me that brought her there. In any case, she’s still getting to know us and I want her to get used to us in public before we do any of your other ideas. ”

It was amazing how quickly they could turn the conversation internal and how much it resembled a verbal discussion rather than truly sharing thoughts. Was it because they knew you were listening? Or was it just their natural state when switching from direct talking to others to each other?

Eddie caught sight of you looking and gave an awkward smile.

“Sorry to keep secrets, but--”

He was interrupted by a ringtone blaring from his jacket. He sighed heavily and snatched his phone.

“It’s my boss. I got an interview in an hour. Sorry to say that I gotta run. I’ll text you later, so go ahead and take it easy for a bit. I’ll leave you to your landlady’s care.”

He waved to Lauren as he answered his phone, turning on his heel to leave. Venom mentally grumbled but gave a nonverbal farewell directed at you. You stared after them long after the door closed, uncertain what to think.

Lauren sat next to you and started signing.

“Well, now I know why you called him a hot mess. Emphasis on the hot.”

You hated how fast your cheeks flushed.

[ellewritesathing]

(Un)Requited  -   I.L    IV

Summary: Isaac Lahey had gone through many twists and turns in his life, but none of them compared to the whiplash he got when you asked him to tutor you. With a few weeks until the end of the semester and the big dance coming up, he’s hoping to figure out a way to ask you to go with him before it’s too late.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 4

Word-count: 3.4k+

A/N: i’m still working on the last part of this fic so i’ll probably only update again in a week or two!! sorry guys 💕

Things between you and Isaac had been weird ever since he walked away from you that day on the lacrosse field. His jokes were delivered a little more awkwardly, your laughter was a few seconds shorter, and whenever it felt like the tension was starting to dissipate, your phone would light up and Stiles’ name would be on your screen. Isaac hated it. 

He hated the anger he carried around in his chest all the time. He hated how jealous he was of Stiles. Most of all, he hated that his relationship with you was fucked because he couldn’t get over a stupid crush. Sure, it was a crush he’d had since he was ten, but it was just a crush. He shouldn’t have let it, for lack of a better word, crush him like this. 

Isaac was busy shoving some books into his overpopulated locker when he felt a very familiar tap on his shoulder. 

When he turned, you were beaming at him with such warmth and familiarity that Isaac forgot that things were weird between you for a second. “Guess what.” Your voice barely contained your excitement.  

“Greenberg walked into a locker again?” Isaac asked, deliberately stalling to keep you around him a bit longer.

You laughed and shoved his arm playfully. “No, silly.” You made the booklet of paper in your hands dance and pressed it into his hands. Your hands were cool to the touch. Probably guessing that he was paying more attention to the physical contact than whatever was on the paper, you pointed to the top  corner of the page and said, “Look!”

Isaac repressed a laugh but he still smiled at you before looking down at the paper. It was an algebra test with a B+ in big, red block letters and an extra credit assignment with a perfect score. “No way!” Isaac grinned and pulled you into a hug. “See, I told you that you could do it!”

Your arms wrapped around his waist and you laughed into his chest. Slowly, you looked up at him and tapped his chest lightly. “Yeah, but I never could have done it without you,” you said.  

For a moment, it was like the whole world slowed down, leaving you and Isaac alone in the quiet hallway. Isaac almost could have sworn your heart was beating as fast as his was, but that wouldn’t make any sense. There was no reason for your heart to beat faster because of Isaac.

But Stiles showed up before Isaac had a chance to figure out why your heart was beating like that and you pulled away. 

“Hey.” He drew the word out in that annoying voice of his. Stiles was unusually easy-going considering that he hated Isaac and he was dating you, and the two of you had been tangled up not even a moment before. “What are we celebrating?” 

You'd pulled away from Isaac so that you were only holding onto him with one hand, just barely around his lower back, as you handed Stiles your test. “I’m almost an A student. You know, I’m thinking of changing my career goals from trophy wife to mathematician.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short. You could totally be a trophy wife and a mathematician,” Stiles said with an aggravating smile. He was so good at saying stuff like that that it drove Isaac up a wall.

You laughed and pretended to be offended as you grabbed your test back. You let go of Isaac to harass Stiles but you soon enough you were laughing and nestling yourself under Stiles’ arm. His fingers interlaced with yours easily as you said something equally charming and witty to him. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Stiles rolled his eyes and smiled at you. His thumb grazed yours as he tilted his head down, almost bumping his forehead into your head. “You sure I can’t convince you to grab lunch with me and Scott? We could ditch Scott.” 

You let out a self-conscious laugh and ducked your head. “As tempting as that offer is…” you untangled yourself from Stiles and took a step back from him. “Isaac and I have a date with some suits.”

Not that kind of date, Isaac reminded himself as he gave Stiles his best attempt at a friendly smile. Judging by Stiles’ reaction, it came out as more of a grimace.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Stiles scratched the side of his face. “Cutting the dance prep a little short, aren’t you?” 

Isaac straightened up and tried to get the venom out of his voice. “Yeah, well, we had some unexpected interruptions. You don’t mind though, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Stiles said, not sounding defensive, exactly, but definitely not as easy-going as before. He looked over at you and squeezed your hand as he said something about catching up with you later. 

You took a deep breath and ran your hand through your hair as Stiles disappeared into the sea of hormonal teenagers. “So-” you stepped closer to Isaac and gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Ready to go?”

If Isaac was honest, he’d tell you that the absolute last thing he ever wanted to do was go shopping for a suit that he didn’t want to wear to a dance he didn’t care about, but he couldn’t be honest with you - not about his feelings, and not about this dance - because you were trying. 

Isaac wanted to try, too. He really did, but Isaac's problem was that he wasn’t as good as you. Then again no one was as good as you, but still. Isaac had to try or he’d lose you again. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” The closing of Isaac’s locker punctuated his lie better than his smiling grimace ever could. 

If you noticed his bad mood - which might have been difficult considering how Isaac was almost always in a bad mood these days - you were nice enough not to mention it as the two of you made your way through the school to the parking lot. Instead, you told him more about your classes and how Greenberg did, in fact, walk into a locker earlier that day. 

There was an anxious lilt to your voice as you talked about your English paper that Isaac didn’t recognize. Sure, he’d seen you be nervous before tests and that first day in the hallway, but this was different. That had been unsure while this was second-guessing. That had been butterflies, and this was a sinking feeling.

Isaac couldn’t wrap his head around what could have been making you anxious. You were happy about your grades, you’d been excited about your parents leaving you home alone so they could check on Alex for the weekend, and you had Stiles. With all that, plus the dance coming up, you shouldn’t have been anxious. 

And yet there you were, mumbling curse words under your breath when people cut you off on the road and hiding a frown behind a tight smile as you pulled into a parking space.

You killed the engine and sighed as you turned to Isaac. “Hey, so I’ve gotta tell you something about Stiles-” 

“Why are we outside a thrift store?” Isaac asked as he peered through the windscreen. 

The store was cute. Bright sunflowers painted next to yellow letters that swirled together to spell ‘Anne’s Next to New Clothing and Trinkets.’ A white table with a flower arrangement and some of the aforementioned trinkets. Through the window, Isaac could make out a little girl trying on about a dozen necklaces while her dad apologized to the person behind the counter. Cute, but it didn’t make sense. 

Isaac turned to look at you when he realized that he’d interrupted you and you probably thought he was the most self-absorbed idiot in the world. You were staring at him with wide eyes as if to prove his point. 

“I’m sorry, I-” 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Your surprise melted into a nervous laugh and you dropped your gaze for a moment. When you looked back at him, your smile had softened into something smaller, something more genuine. “Since our mall trip ended so badly, I thought we could try something else.” 

Isaac gave you a lazy smile and nodded his head to the store. “Something next to new?” 

You scrunched up your face and groaned, putting your face in your hands. “Ugh, this was a dumb idea, wasn’t it? We can leave. Give me a sec to pull out-” 

“No. No, that’s not what I meant-” Isaac reached over to grab your hands before he realized what he was doing. With one touch, it was like you erased the entire world that existed outside your car. It was just you, Isaac, and a whole bunch of electricity. “I just meant,” he said quietly, “that it was really nice of you to do this for me. I’m not really used to people doing nice things for me.”

“Well, get used to it because I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. Your words were quiet but your smile was playful. “Come on.” You tilted your head to the door and pulled away. 

Isaac tried to get his heart to beat normally again as your door clicked open and thumped close behind you. He took two deep, steady breaths, then shook his head and met you at the front of your car. 

You rocked back and forth on your heels as you waited for him. With a nervous smile, you led Isaac inside. The bell chimed as you opened the door, ringing in Isaac’s head as you greeted the cashier, and Isaac went on the awkward defensive again. He ran his hands along the swaths of fabric as the two of you made your way through the store. Felt, polyester, cotton, and wool greeted his fingertips until Isaac stopped in the formalwear section. 

Old dresses mixed with a bizarre assortment of wedding attire and four suits, two with three pieces and each a different color to the last. Isaac took his eyes off the suits to find you trying to hide your glances at him. Isaac didn’t bother to hide his amusement at your secrecy. 

“What?” You laughed when you caught Isaac waiting for you to steal another look at him. You tucked some hair behind your ear without thinking about it. 

Isaac smiled, stifling another laugh. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“No, but you want to.” You looked at Isaac with an expression he couldn’t place. Friendly, playful, but just as he tried putting a better word to it, you looked away. Turning your attention to a gray suit, you waved Isaac over. “What do you think of this one?” 

Isaac sighed as he made his way over and tilted his head to get a better look at the suit. “I mean, it’s not terrible,” Isaac said, running his hands up the lapel. 

You laughed and bumped your arm into Isaac’s. “Well, high praise for this one aside,” you teased, “maybe we should find something a notch above ‘not terrible’ for the big night.”

“Whatever you say,” Isaac said with a smile. The one suit was a baby blue, which instantly struck it out of Isaac’s book and left him with two black options. Boring, yes, but that’s what made them safe. 

Nevertheless, you ushered Isaac into the changing room with his two boring suits and made him promise to take his time so you could try and pick something out for yourself. The thought of you waiting for him made Isaac’s stomach lurch, but he still promised to give each suit a fair chance. 

The first suit was a slightly snug; not awful looking, but not the most comfortable. If Isaac was going to be wearing this thing all night in a crowd full of sweaty teenagers, then he was going to need something with a little more breathing room for his inevitable panic attack. 

So, shoving away the thoughts of how ridiculous this whole thing was, Isaac changed into the other suit. The button-up was missing a few buttons but he could sew new ones with minimal effort. It fit better than the other one had and didn’t cut off his air supply. Plus, the waistcoat somehow made him look less like a scrawny kid playing dress-up and more like someone who actually had it together. 

Looking at himself in this suit, Isaac could imagine himself as the kind of guy you’d have feelings for. Not a guy like Stiles because that would make him throw up, but someone charming. Maybe even eloquent. The kind of guy that didn’t live in his older brother’s shadow or own three different copies of Persuasion (one was a library book he forgot to return, one had been his mom’s, and the other just had a nicer cover than the rest). 

In this suit, Isaac had a nicer cover than he usually did.

Realizing that he’d probably spent like five minutes just staring at himself and twisting one of the broken buttons, Isaac raced to get changed. He threw the suit to the side and jumped into his jeans and pulled on his baggy gray t-shirt. Isaac was in the process of pulling on his hoodie and forcing the suit back onto its hanger when he stepped out of the changing room and almost knocked you off your feet. 

Reflexively, Isaac grabbed you to keep you from falling over. He stammered out several apologies as his heart exploded, but all you did was laugh. 

“It’s okay, promise,” you said with a smile. You held onto Isaac as you got back to your feet. After several seconds of awkward silence, you asked, “So did either of them come out ‘not terrible?’”

“Uh, yeah.” Isaac held out the crumpled suit to you. “This one’s not so bad.” 

“Not so bad,” you echoed, taking the suit from Isaac and smoothing it out. “We’ll take it!”

Isaac couldn’t help but laugh. You were adorable and very, very far out of his league. Still, he hung up the rejected suit and met you at the counter to pay. 

He was so preoccupied with thoughts of accidentally injuring you that he didn’t notice that you’d already bought something. When Isaac asked about it over celebratory frozen yogurt, all you said was that you needed something for the dance, too. 

---

Isaac had never been someone with high hopes. He’d given up on anticipating the future ever since he was thrown into a grave and turned into a werewolf; but, still, he found himself with some very unrealistic expectations of how the dance would go. Chief of which being that you’d ditch Stiles and confess your undying love to Isaac. 

Actually, not ‘undying’ love because the universe might take that as a sign to make you immortal or something, and that kind of information wasn’t something Isaac thought he could recover from. 

His other expectations, supernatural dilemma aside, were to get through the night without bleeding and to, maybe, hopefully, get to dance with you before leaving early. 

Two very simple hopes that went unfilled. 

First, Stiles was an asshole and hung around you the whole night. His presence made it impossible for Isaac to talk to you about anything other than the decorations and, if that wasn’t annoying enough, Stiles barely even looked at you. You didn’t mind and Erica didn’t even seem to notice his staring, but Isaac noticed. Isaac minded. 

Seeing as it was unlikely that any declaration of love, undying or not, was going to made with Stiles Fucking Stilinski jumping around like a kid on a sugar high, Isaac excused himself to get something to drink and maybe punch a wall. You seemed disappointed - not at the wall punching, because Isaac didn’t mention that, but at his leaving. Still, you let him go with a smile nonetheless.

Isaac smiled, too. It felt like all he’d been doing the whole night was smiling, even when you gave him your sympathies about Erica not being his date. He was going to explain everything to you right then and there when Stiles had shown up with his stupid hair and frustrating jokes. 

The punch had a sharp, bitter taste that wasn’t there at the beginning of the night and Isaac pulled a face. His dislike of alcohol wasn’t because he was worried about getting drunk (his supernatural metabolism made sure that was never a possibility), but because he just didn’t like the taste. Thanks to his dad, he’d been around the stuff long enough for it to lose its appeal. 

Dumping his glass in a potted plant, Isaac turned back to survey the gym. He’d just spotted you in the crowd when Erica and Boyd materialized on either side of him. Erica grabbed his now empty cup and threw it to the side. 

“Hey!” Isaac whined. 

“We have to go,” she said in her black and blue voice. “Derek needs us.” 

Of course, he did. Heaven forbid Isaac had one night free from Hale drama. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Boyd repeated. “The hunters are making their move and Derek says there’s another wolf pack. He can’t take them all by himself. Sorry, man.” 

Erica put her hands on Isaac’s shoulders and steered him towards the dance floor. “So go tell your sweetheart that there’s a family emergency and meet us outside, okay?” She shoved him into the floor before Isaac had the chance to argue. 

Isaac wasn’t sure where you came from, but you caught him before he landed on his ass, at least. Your face was full of concern as you helped Isaac stand back up and asked what was going on. 

Casting a look over his shoulder, Isaac couldn’t find Erica or Boyd. They were already on the move and Isaac didn’t have time to explain everything. “I’ve gotta go,” Isaac interrupted you. He let out a breath as he turned back to you. Then, with a painful smile, he added, “Family emergency.”

“Oh,” you said. You blinked hard as you thought of something else to say. “Do you need a ride?” 

“No, Erica and Boyd are already outside,” Isaac said. It was hard for him to focus on you over the sound of the music and his beating heart. “I, uh- I’ve had a lot of fun with you these past few weeks. Thanks.” 

You nodded, looking down at your intertwined hands for a second. You gave his hands a squeeze. “Me too,” you said. “I’ll see you on Monday?” 

“Monday,” Isaac lied with a bittersweet smile. He decided, since he was most likely going to be killed in the woods in seventeen minutes anyway, to do something that he’d never dreamed possible. 

Letting go of your hands, Isaac stepped forward and kissed your cheek. He disappeared before you had the chance to say anything. 

If the night had ended there, it wouldn’t have mattered much that none of Isaac’s hopes had been met because at least he’d gotten to kiss your cheek. The problem was that, like most nights, it didn’t end when Isaac wanted it to. 

The night kept going, and Isaac got shot with arrows and electrocuted with arrows and mauled by some out of control werewolves. He’d lost Erica and Boyd somewhere in the chaos and he’d never even found Derek to begin with. The night kept going, and Isaac was bloody and alone. 

He couldn’t go back to the loft, purely because he wasn’t strong enough to make it there. He had no idea where the root cellar was. The night kept going, and Isaac was bleeding out with nowhere to turn. 

Still, he ran. 

Isaac had survived so much in his short time on this goddamn bitch of an earth, and he wasn’t about to give up because his spleen had ruptured or because he had no idea where he was. No, Isaac ran because - despite everything - he wanted to live. 

He ran and ran until he eventually found something familiar. Unluckily, it wasn’t the hospital or the animal clinic but your house. Isaac would have kept running if he thought his leg could make it, but he knew they couldn’t. 

So, Isaac made the agonizing journey up to your front door. He rang the bell. You’d just opened the door, and all Isaac managed to get out was: “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

And then he collapsed. 

Part 5

Tagged:  @lettherebelovex​  @britty443​  @ietss​  @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane​  @chocolate-raspberries​  @jellybelly-jones  @f1nal-g1rl​

[julienschuester]

AIN’T TOO PROUD TO BEG

WHO: @ivystjamess & julien schuester (ft. @davisgools )  WHERE: the lima community theater WHEN: thursday, 12/17 — moments before opening night WHAT: Julien has had enough of this ‘broken up’ business. In a moment of uncharacteristic bravery, he storms into Ivy’s dressing room and demands that she hear him out. His big speech leads to a kiss, but their reunion is cut short by one Davis Goolsby walking in on the action.

JULIEN: It was safe to say that Into The Woods had snuck up on Julien Schuester. Between the musical, sectionals, hockey, the holidays and all of his recent relationship drama, he felt like he was in a never-ending state of unrest. Things were off. Plain and simple. Under “normal circumstances,” meaning if his heart hadn’t been absolutely stomped on by Ivy St. James, maybe he would’ve been able to juggle everything. But that wasn’t the case. So, come opening night, Julien was panicking in his dressing room, pacing back and forth while his understudy watched him curiously. He knew ‘giants in the sky’ like the back of his hand, he knew he had it in him to nail the performance, but if he caught even one weird energy exchange between Ivy and Davis while he was on stage? He wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover. “Fuck this,” Julien muttered to himself, the uncharacteristic curse earning him a wide eyed stare. With a huff, Julien exited his room and beelined it to the one across the hall and pushed the door open without knocking.

“Ivy, I need to talk to y—“ he announced, but the person he was looking for wasn’t alone. While Ivy stood by her vanity, Julien’s eyes narrowed in on the girl he recognized as Amber from Vocal Adrenaline. The one he’d seen at the Carnival talking to her and likely scheming with Davis to get her to transfer. “Amber,” Julien greeted curtly, feeling his face redden, “I need to talk to Ivy alone.” Despite Ivy glancing at him, her new teammate seemed to take no notice. Was he really that invisible? No. Not today. “Hey, I’m talking to you,” he said again, this time loudly, “get out.” A pause. “Please.” He clenched his jaws and glared at her, stepping into the room and holding open the door. That did the trick and she got the hint, hesitantly making her way out. Thank God. Julien closed the door behind him once she was out and turned to face Ivy. Of course, she immediately launched into some rant, but Julien didn’t care. He’d come to her dressing room with a purpose and he knew he was going against all of the advice he’d gotten, but again, he didn’t care. It took all of five seconds for him to cross the room, put his hands on either side of Ivy’s face, and crash his lips into hers in the middle of whatever sentence she was uttering. He knew he’d have to explain himself and say something eventually, but first he needed to kiss her. As he slowly pulled away and opened his eyes, for the first time in weeks, things felt right. “Hi,” he said quietly, scanning her face to try and get a read on where she was at before he launched into his speech.

IVY: If Ivy was asked to do one thing under all the pressures in the world, she would hope it was to perform. Usually she was blessed with a calm disposition before opening nights and worked magic on the stage, but with all the turmoil that had shrouded her personal life as of late, she'd be lying if she said those St.James nerves of steel had softened. It left her stuck in her head, miserable as she sat in front of her dressing room mirror, touching up her make up every few minutes or standing up and doing vocal warm ups. Amber, one of her new friends on Vocal Adrenaline and a member of the chorus for this production, had been like a savior to get her out of her head. The girl had brought her a tea with some honey and a pep talk she had hardly been expecting. Having someone around who was removed from both her old life and her newfound Davis drama did wonder for all the nerves building their way up from the pit of her stomach up to the top of her head. She was feeling ready to tackle the night. When she glanced in the mirror, she was no longer critical of the way her hair was falling incorrectly or how the dirt smudges on her face didn't look real enough. She radiated confidence, and not the deep rooted sadness that lurked beneath the surface. The heartache that could consistently be traced back to her break up in McKinley's hallways a little over a week ago. Feeling more comfortable in her own skin, Amber and Ivy chatted, laughed, and enjoyed each other's company. That was until the door swung open.

Amber didn't seem to pay much mind to Julien, but a million looks crossed her expression as he came in with his demands. Confusion, fear, anger, longing. It was emotional whiplash to say the least, but the more stern he grew in the way he spoke with Amber had Ivy's chest racing up and down as she breathed heavily and the tips of her ears turned red. Her Vocal Adrenaline buddy said an awkward goodbye and Ivy wasted no time to give Julien a peace of her mind. Was he trying to ruin the show by throwing her off? What didn't he get about respect my choices? Couldn't he see she was trying to keep his pain to a minimal? Before she could choose her words carefully, Ivy was pointing a finger at Julien and huffing, "Okay so for starters that was like so rude, we were talking you can't just storm in here and talk to my friends like that, Jules, that's totally not cool!" her tone reached it's typical shrill heights while she ranted at the speed of light, and while she was very visibly bothered, it didn't keep her from speaking her mind. "I told you to like respect what I was saying and you're doing like the total opposite! I am a smart girl who can make her own choices and--" Before she could comprehend all that had happened, Julien had crossed the room, cupped her cheeks, and latched his lips to hers. It made Ivy weak in the knees. The movement of his lips against her own had her wanting to cry, yell, and kiss him more all at the same time. Still stunned in the position she had been when Julien had made his way over to her, Ivy's hands were raised midair when he pulled away as she silently stared at him as if she were a dog waiting for it's bone. For once, no words passed Ivy's lips as she stared at him expectantly. He'd successfully rendered her speechless as Ivy tried to decide how she wanted to present herself to him. Though her prominent sorrow fought it's way to the surface as she mustered up a pathetic, "hi."

Her gaze briefly flicked to his lips as she wished she could rewind a couple of seconds to where things weren't so complicated and they were just a boy and a girl sharing a special moment that didn't need to exist outside of the walls of this dressing room, or within the context of the real world. Ivy reluctantly moved on and took one look into those sad eyes of his. Stupid Idea Ivy a pang radiated throughout her chest, causing her to turn away from him and plant her hands firmly on the counter that sat below the mirror in the dressing room. Sucking in a breath and therefore the sobfest she could feel coming on, with her back turned to him, she forced out an oddly meek, "What do you want?"

JULIEN: What do you want? Julien stood behind Ivy, breathless from their kiss, as he stared at the back of her head and let his arms drop to his sides again. That was a loaded question, but no matter how he broke it down, it always boiled down to one very simple simple answer. “You,” he said quietly, shedding all the toughness he had walked into her dressing room with. “Look at me,” he told her, finding some of that stern energy again as he made eye contact with Ivy in the vanity mirror and placed a hand on her arm, urging her to turn around. He could tell she didn’t want to and he could see very clearly that this wasn’t as easy for her as he previously thought, but that made him even more certain that he’d done the right thing by storming in. Once she was facing him again, their eyes connected and he held her gaze bravely. He wasn’t going to look away, even if it hurt, even if it was hard.

“I know you’re smart,” he started, feeling the tips of his ears and the back of his neck getting hot as his his stomach began to twist into nervous knots, “and I know you’re right about a lot of stuff…” Julien gulped, swallowing his fear as he squared his shoulders and straightened out his posture, “but you’re wrong about this.” He said that with his whole chest. He knew it to be true. “We go together,” he said, taking a step towards her and causing her to bump up against the edge of her vanity,  “and I do know you, legs.” It was so obvious to him. He knew her, just like she knew him. “I know you’re kind of a really bad driver, that you watch Saved By The Bell whenever you’re sad, and that you rub your lips together whenever you’re nervous...or when you’re flirting.” Anyone who spent enough time with Ivy would eventually be able to pick up on those things though. Knowing those things just meant he paid attention, but they didn’t mean he knew her heart. “You talk a big game but you’re actually like…a really tender person,” he said quietly, closing some of the distance between them as his hands gripped the edge of the vanity on either side of her, fencing her in. “You might be tough like Buttercup on the outside, but deep down you’re a Bubbles. You care what people think and you’re sensitive. I know that tonight when you go out there and totally kill it and stuff, it’s going to mean everything to you when your parents tell you what an amazing job you did. You care so much about making the people you love proud.”

What did Davis know about Ivy that Julien didn’t? What did he capitalize on that had Ivy so convinced he knew her better? As Julien stared into the big, sad blue eyes of the girl he loved, he finally dropped his head and averted his eyes. “I know that you’re a force to be reckoned with, Ivy,” he admitted, slumping his shoulders, “you like to win and you probably do fit in better with those Vocal Adrenaline kids. They can probably keep up with you a lot better than any of us ever could.” It sucked to admit, but it was true. Ivy was built differently than a lot of the people in the New Directions or the Trouble Tones. She was so talented it made Julien’s brain hurt sometimes. “You are a powerhouse.” A pause. “But you know what?” he started, feeling his cheeks redden again as he brought a hand up to gently pinch her chin and angle her face upwards so she was looking at him, “that’s not all you are. You’re hilarious and blunt and so sweet and fun.” Julien felt himself starting to smile as he spoke, reflecting on the years and years of experience he had with Ivy. “I’ve loved you since I was like…fourteen or something…” he admitted, shrugging as he dropped his hand from her chin, “and I want to be with you. I don’t care if you’re on Vocal Adrenaline. You mean so much more to me than show choir and musicals and stuff. So…” he let out a deep breath as he neared the end of his rambled speech, “ball’s in your court, legs. I just…I needed to tell you. But if you want me to go away forever and stuff, I’ll respect that.”

IVY: Julien didn't need to give this large grand speech to make Ivy want to be with him. She wanted to be with him many times in her life, but she never wanted to be with him more than she did as she left him stranded by a locker in the hallways of William McKinley High School. There was no denying Julien. Not long term at least. And not for Ivy. They'd both seen how that worked out after a summer of Ivy ignoring him, cutting him out, protecting her heart. And even now it was painfully obvious how difficult placing a wall between them was. As Julien gently turned her around, with a quivering bottom lip, Ivy refused to look at him. She was walking an emotional tightrope, on the other side was getting away from this incident tear free. Below sat Julien, waiting for her to run into her arms and pretend everything was okay again. Her balance was obviously wavering as he struck chord after chord, each one hitting her deeper than the last. Ivy had been foolish to say Davis knew her better than Julien, but Ivy often said stupid things in an emotional haze. That wasn't a new development. While his hands gripped the vanity counter behind her, Ivy could feel his breath on her neck as she looked away from him and at the floor. Each time she thought he was going to let up, free her from this breathlessness, and inner anguish, he continued speaking, reminding her how he loved her so.

There were plenty of reasons for Ivy to be conflicted, again, her sister was sounding in her ear telling her to protect her heart. The issue of Julien essentially being a human doormat wasn't lost on her, though this firm display had her wondering if there was hope. She didn't know. All of this came back to Ivy not knowing. Not knowing if she was doing the right thing, not knowing how to cut Julien out pain free. But then again, was there a painless way to cut off someone who was just as much apart of her as her blue eyes or pinky finger? Probably not. With her hands trembling, Ivy sucked in another ragged breath and forced herself to stare back into those favorite brown eyes of hers. It killed her. The look on his face and the words he was saying were too much for Ivy. All this came back to Ivy not knowing.Not knowing how they wound up here so quickly, not knowing why doing what she deemed the right thing could feel so wrong. Conflict played out across her face as clearly as a movie on a screen. 'ball’s in your court, legs. I just…I needed to tell you.' through this entire exchange though, the one thing Ivy did know was that she loved Julien Schuester. Even though they weren't together, Ivy loved Julien in the breathless, head spinning, want to be near you always, kind of way. A sad adoration clouded over her gaze while fear was painted on her eyebrows. It wasn't apparent to Ivy just how to share her vast range of feelings, so instead she stared at him in the silence for an insufferable five seconds before closing the minimal distance between them and urgently pressing a kiss to his lips. Was this the smart thing to do? Probably not, but her heart told her this was the correct course of action. Ivy was strong, but not strong enough to hurt Julien for the benefit of the feelings of hers she wasn't entirely sold on.

So Ivy did the only thing she could think, kiss him. Kiss him suddenly and desperately and in a way that said I love you. Because while there were a lot things about this situation she didn't know, there were two things she did; that she loved Julien and kissing him was the best feeling in the world. Her hands rested on his chest and just to be sure he got the message, Ivy briefly pulled away to weakly whisper, "I love you." before bringing their lips together again. This wasn't the smartest of Ivy's plans, but it also wasn't one of the stupidest. She'd deal with the real world consequences later when she couldn't feel Julien's heartbeat beneath her hand and they weren't sheltered by the walls of the dressing room. For now it was just them, and for now Ivy didn't think she needed to know. While Julien didn't relent with his verbal message, Ivy didn't relent with her physical one as she held herself close and kissed him like opening night wasn't awaiting.

JULIEN: In this moment, Julien and Ivy were just two kids who loved each other, who were in way over their heads and searching for answers in each other’s eyes. He held his breath as he waited for her to say something—anything. If only this could be easy. Couldn’t it be easy? With each agonizing second of silence that passed, Julien grew more anxious. “Ivy…” he started, determined to fill the quiet with more words or more begging or reasoning, but her name was all he managed to get out before she closed the distance between them. Julien’s lips melted against hers as his hands found a place to rest on her hips. Little by little and piece by piece, things started clicking back into place. His heart was bouncing in his chest under the weight of her hands as she took the lead and deepened the kiss. This was good right? This meant that she still…

I love you. He knew it. “I know,” Julien responded breathlessly, and just like that, their lips were connected once more. Julien had come into this situation wearing his heart on his sleeve and getting the verbal and physical confirmation from Ivy that he wanted only confirmed that it was the right call. In one swift motion, he snaked his arms around her and without breaking their kiss, hoisted her up on to the surface of her vanity so that he was standing in between her legs. The last time he’d kissed her had been before sectionals, so they were no doubt making up for lost time. He let his hands wander until one of them eventually a home in her hair while the other settled on and squeezed her thigh. Kissing Ivy was the only thing that mattered. He was so lost in the moment that he forgot where he was and that there was an audience surely settling into their seats in the auditorium and a cast doing vocal warm-ups and playing theater games in the green room. None of it was important. All he cared about was this.

That was, until he heard the sound of a knob turning and a door swinging open. Julien’s eyes widened as he pulled his lips away from Ivy’s and caught a glimpse of their intruder in the mirror. When his eyes landed on none other than Davis Goolsby, he saw red. “Ever heard of knocking?” Julien shot at him, not moving from his place in front of Ivy but instead just turning his head to look over his shoulder. If he was being honest with himself, as annoyed as he was that Davis had interrupted them, he was also glad he was seeing this. Contracts be damned. Everyone had been quick to tell Julien that Ivy was into Davis and that there was something going on between them, but he knew it in his bones that they were wrong. Ivy loved him, she’d just said it herself. So this moment, as messy as it would surely be later, felt like a victory.

DAVIS: Davis was thanking every single god in existence that opening night was upon him. It was hard enough trying to participate in something so closely tied with the student body of William McKinley High School, but having to practically court one of the members of the cast to ensure a solid performance? He was fucking exhausted. But alas, the show was promising enough. He was sure his father wasn’t going to be in attendance for the night (or any night, really) but he was going to perform like the entire audience was filled with important people, not stupid ‘townspeople’. The perfect way to get into his star mindset? Linking his mind and energy with someone that had started feeling more like his platonic soulmate than anything else - Ivy St. James.

 If he were honest, Davis’ interest in Ivy had come as easily as him realizing who her father was. Once he knew that, he was sold that she in the wrong place. It was fate that that was corrected and she was finally on the side of Ohio that she belonged - with him and with Carmel. She would flourish with him at her side, definitely far more than being tied down at the freakin’ Titans torture school. He won and in turn, he was pretty sure that Ivy would too. It was why he opened the door to the dressing room with such a confidence.

 But something was off.

As soon as he peered inside and saw the unmistakable disaster tragedy of a mop head human being in front of Ivy? Davis questioned just how much he had won. Ivy was still seeing Julien freakin’ Schuester. If Davis had been more focused on maintaining their friendship from the start, he might have realized the signs of her toying around with the Schuester, but he had been blinded by his own selfish deeds - typical. Fair game, Julien Schuester. 

 “Apologies, I didn’t realize I was walking into the filming location of a porno,” Davis said with a light smile as he locked eyes with Ivy. He wasn’t upset with her by any means, but it did make him question a lot. Perhaps she had a little bit more of her mother in her than he had pegged her for. “There’s fifteen minutes until curtain, so I was wanting to talk with Ivy. I see she’s busy. Julien,” Davis greeted before he was staring down the cocky looking boy before him. God, he was a level of pathetic that Davis hoped he would never stoop to. “My apologies.” His words were softer now, knowing that if he was going to spin this in the proper way? Julien would have to stand before him, baffled as ever, and questioning as ever. “I’ll catch you guys later then,” he said with his tone sounding sadder before he was closing the door and turning to be on his way. It was evil, he knew that much. The look he conveyed was one he had seen a thousand times on his step mothers face trying to act as if they’re not hurt by seeing his father screwing another woman. He was acting before the curtains even rose - he was playing the part of a secret lover scorned. God, he was good.

THE END.

[ellewritesathing]

(Un)Requited  -  I.L.  I

Summary: Isaac Lahey had gone through many twists and turns in his life, but none of them compared to the whiplash he got when you asked him to tutor you. With a few weeks until the end of the semester and the big dance coming up, he’s hoping to figure out a way to ask you to go with him before it’s too late.

Masterlist Part 1 | Next

Word-count: 1.5k+

A/N: so i don’t have an uploud schedule for this series yet but i wanted to post something teen wolf related since i was a flake and didn’t have the next part of So Close written. happy reading!!

Isaac Lahey had known you his whole life. The two of you had been going to the same schools and sharing at least one class a day almost as long as he could remember. Plus, until they split high school, your older brother and Camden were best friends, which meant Isaac got to spend plenty of time with you outside of school as a byproduct. 

Until his dad's drinking got worse and it started being too difficult for Isaac to spend time with you without his dad somehow messing it up. All those cancelled and postponed plans added up and soon enough it was high school and the two of you had just drifted apart. 

So, understandably, one of the last things he ever expected after a shitty day of Coach yelling at him and getting detention for something that wasn't entirely his fault was for you to tap him on his shoulder while Isaac dug through his locker to find the one assignment that he knew he actually finished on time. 

“Uh, hi,” you smiled awkwardly when he turned around. God, he must’ve looked like a wreck if he was making you this nervous to speak to him. “I’m not really sure how to say this.” 

“Is something wrong?” he asked, straightening up and trying to seem a little more put together. If he could come across as a little less unhinged while he was at it, that would have been great but Isaac wasn't going to hold his breath.

“Kinda?” You looked down at your shoes and laughed before looking back up at him and pushing some hair out of your face in the process. “I hear that you’re acing Algebra II and, coincidentally, I happen to be failing Algebra II. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind tutoring me sometime?” 

“You want me to tutor you?” Isaac asked. If you came to him because you thought he was smart, that question might have blown any chance he had, so he added - as quickly as he could - “Uh, yeah, I could tutor you.” 

“Isaac, you’re a lifesaver,” you said, visibly relaxing and sending him another smile. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” he said. After a beat of awkward silence where he was sure you could hear his heart beating in his chest, he asked, “So should I, um, give you my number or something?” 

“Oh, yeah, that would probably help,” you laughed. “Got a pen?”

Swinging his backpack around to his front and trying not to take you stepping backwards personally, Isaac fumbled for a pen. He handed it to you with an awkward smile, and you reached for it with one hand while taking his in your other. You clicked the pen and leaned over to write your number on the back of his hand while Isaac tried not to have a panic attack. 

“There,” you said with a smile as you handed him back the pen and, sadly, let go of his hand. “Now you won’t lose it.” 

“Great,” Isaac smiled. It felt like he was holding eye contact for too long, so he looked away in an effort to concentrate on replacing his pen inside his backpack. “So I’ll text you later?”

“Better yet, you can call me,” you said. And he must have looked like an idiot when you did, because the next thing he knew you were laughing. Except it wasn’t malicious. It was like you were sharing a private joke. 

“Yeah, uh- I can do that,” Isaac said, trying to play it cool. As if that ship hadn't already sailed ...

“Then it’s a date.” 

You shot him one last smile before turning on your heel and walking away, and it took him a minute to catch his breath again. Not even a five-minute conversation with you and his childhood crush was back in full-force. 

“Any reason why you look like someone just kicked your favorite puppy?” Erica asked. 

Isaac wasn’t sure when she showed up or how long he'd been staring down an empty hallway, but - if he was honest - he didn’t really care. Looking over at her with an incredulous smile, he said, "I think I’m a math tutor now.” 

“Oh yikes. At least you're pretty good with that stuff,” Erica said with a slight nod at the end. “Anyway, are we still on for lunch or are you now fully booked, Mr. Tutor?" 

“You know, I think I can pencil you in,” Isaac said. 

“Gee, how sweet of you.”

---

Isaac couldn’t prove that you were actively trying to kill him, but the anxiety you gave him about calling you was damn near certain proof. The day had come and gone, with all its teenage angst and supernatural drama, and now he was all by himself in the loft. Alone. Without any super-hearing friends to eavesdrop. On paper, it was the perfect time to call and probably his only clear shot at trying.

But surely he should wait more than a day? That’s what they do in the movies, right? Play hard to get. But Isaac wasn’t hard to get. All you had to do was ask nicely and he’d probably do anything you said. Hell, you didn’t even have to ask nicely. You could step on him and he'd still-

But you did ask him nicely. To call you, he meant. You said he should call you. And your number was already starting to fade … Isaac took a breath, stopped pacing, and picked up his phone. He dialed the smudged number on his hand and waited for an answer. 

“Hey, Y/N?” His voice came out too loud and too forceful when the dial tones stopped. Or did he seem excited? Isaac couldn’t tell, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. “It’s Isaac.” 

“I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to call,” you said. Good thing he didn’t wait a few days, then. “Hey, I’m kidding. Don’t worry about it.” 

“How do you know if I’m worrying about it?” Isaac asked. 

“How do you know if I’m really kidding?” you asked. Your voice sounded teasing enough but Isaac wasn’t sure he was in the clear until he heard you laugh on the other end of the line. 

Isaac could almost imagine you sitting on your bed, twirling one of those old phone cords around your finger as you spoke. But that couldn’t happen. (For a number of reasons but mainly because this wasn’t the 90s and you weren’t in love with him.)

“Hey, you still there?” you asked in a quieter voice. 

“Uh, yeah,” Isaac said quickly as he started pacing again. “Sorry, just got distracted.” 

“Happens to the best of us,” you said with an imaginary shrug.

“So I thought about the tutoring thing,” Isaac said slowly, not knowing what else to say. “And I’m free on Tuesdays, if you want. I’ve got a free period that we could use.” 

“Yeah, that would be great!” He could hear you smiling as you spoke. 

“Yeah?” Why was he double-checking? This was what he wanted. “It’s fifth period.” 

“And I’ve got Algebra II in sixth,” you said. “Works perfect for me.” 

“That’s great.” 

Isaac felt the corners of his mouth turn up and his heart beat faster. Thank God the others weren’t here to hear that. 

“Yeah, uh-” you took a breath and Isaac's heart stopped. “This is the awkward part: How much do you want me to pay you?” 

His mouth turned down again. “Pay me?” 

“You know, for your time. There’s gotta be better things to do than tutor me, right?” 

Isaac wanted to tell you that no, there was absolutely nothing better to do during his Tuesday free period than spend it with you. But he didn’t. Instead, he said, “What if you helped me with something else?” 

“Well, what do you need?” There was a lilt to your voice. You were interested. The only problem was that Isaac had no idea what he needed your help with. 

“Uh …” He was stalling. If he didn’t say something soon, you’d think he was weird. “Well, the dance is coming up.” 

“Yeah?” 

“And I want to impress this girl.” 

“And you need me to …?” 

“Teach me how to impress her?” 

It sounded like a question, mostly because it was a question. Was it the right response? Isaac didn’t even know if you still took dance classes. You did when you were like seven, but everyone does stuff at seven that they don’t do at seventeen. 

“Oh,” you said. There was movement on your side that he could only hear because the line was so quiet. “Yeah, I’d love to.” 

It worked? 

“Great!” He sounded too excited again. Shifting back to his normal voice, Isaac added, “Okay, so tutoring in exchange for life coaching?” 

“Sounds perfect.” You didn’t sound so playful anymore. Did he mess something up? Probably. “I guess I’ll see you at school then.” 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I guess.” 

“Bye.” Neither of you hung up. “And Isaac?” 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s good to spend time with you again.” 

And then you hung up. 

It was official: You were definitely trying to kill him. But Isaac didn’t seem to mind.

Part 2

Tagged: @ietss​