#luke hemmings transparent

[starshipsofstarlord]

before the stage

prompt. quickly sewing back the loose button of their shirt that came off at the last minute, realising that you two are extremely close (1.2k)

pairing. luke hemmings x assistant!reader

warnings. fluff, employer x assistant feelings, written in 2nd person, frustrated!luke, the black shirt 🥵

divider credits. @cafekitsune

It was almost time for Luke and his band to perform, they had been entirely prepared and surpassed any qualms that threatened to delay their appearance on stage, however in the last moment, another problem appeared, leading Luke to sigh irritatedly. He was wearing a button up, the first one already undone, however it appeared that it didn't matter how much the quality of the satin fabric had cost, a couple of buttons in his midsection had escaped from the threads that held them in place.

The lead singer plucked the black pearls that closed his shirt up from the trodden ground, holding the minuscule clasps in his large hand. To say he was annoyed was an understatement; he didn't even have a backup outfit, he was set on wearing the exact apparel that he had on. "Fuck sake." His tone was bitter, it was as though something always had to go wrong at the last second.

It was just his luck, he thought. "Is something wrong Luke?" The voice cut through his distress as smooth as a knife, the soft sound relaxing the tall man slightly, as he looked to the side to see you - his assistant. He felt his lips incoherently move on their own accord as he fumbled to speak, miming through oxygen that flowed between you. "I- uh." He didn't want to rant to you about something so unimportant in the world, it would make him appear nonchalant to the real problems that tainted the earth.

He had the ability to purchase anything that he wished for due to the success of his music career, and thus he felt petty. "It's nothing." Luke shrugged off the grievance that had the strength to delay his entrance beneath the stage lights, there was no justice in getting worked up over something so minuscule. "Just.. my shirt broke." To emphasise his point in an embarrassed gesture, he braced his hands awkwardly on his hips and looked down at his torso.

A crease fell between your brows, and he felt like an absolute fool. There was a hue of red blossoming on his cheeks as he noticed your eyes scanning along his body, pinpointing the ajar fabric, your pupils staring sternly at his exposed skin. "I have just the thing." Your y/e/c eyes devotedly ogled up at him, glee glowing with an ambience from your eyes as a wide smile sprawled on your lips, leaving the curly haired blonde riddled in confusion.

For a moment you ignored your employer, shuffling with a purpose through your handbag that was slung across your shoulder, all knowing with what your search was for. A sound of diluted happiness prevailed from your throat as you plucked out a small and transparent case, where sewing needles and midnight coloured thread were stored. "Did you find the buttons?" It wouldn't be a problem if he hadn't, as you had a couple of spares loosely dancing around in your bag, however Luke held out his hand.

Luke felt sparks shoot through his body as you took the buttons, your fingers digging gently in the indent lines of his palm, grasping the black spheres and preparing your tools to reattach them. He could have sworn you were an angel sent from heaven to make every day that he spent with you significantly brighter; if there was ever a barricade to his intended path, you always had a solution.

You were always prepared, however in this moment you had to try with great difficulty to ignore the his soft abs from your focused sight. All you had to do was your job, which was to provide support and anything that Luke required, and so with your black reel of thread connected to the button, you grasped the opening of his shirt, knuckles brushing his tender muscles. The contact made him shakily inhale, his heart thumping vigorously within his chest.

He had never meant to form such an unprofessional crush on you, but it was impossible, sure when he interviewed you he couldn't ignore the physical attraction that he felt for you, though it didn't blind him to your listed criteria that was on your resume. "Thanks for this." He quietly spoke, but his words were as clear as day due to the proximity that you shared. One button down, one to go - you felt sufficiently accomplished, and you held the other one, determined to finish this fixing in time.

"It's my job." You responded nonchalantly, shrugging his appreciation off as to calm the butterflies that hurtled around in your stomach. "And it's no big deal Luke, it's an easy fix." Oh god, he could feel your breath hitting his chest where he had intentionally opened his shirt, and he could feel sweat brewing against his hairline. You were so focused, and he couldn't help but take in every detail of your face.

As you finished with putting the last button on, you placed the needle and thread back where they belonged, before you grasped the sides of his shirt, readying to put them through their designated loops. As you looked up, and he looked down upon you in his heeled boots, your nose almost touched his chin, and your eyes met in a staring embrace. "Hi." You muttered, hands still on his blouse.

"Hey." He replied, his lips pulling at the sides as his pupils enlarged in their surrounding blue pools. "How long do we have?" The musician enquired, knowing that you had a better sense for time management than he did. You glanced down at your watch, only briefly, and cocked your head. "Enough." You said, your body jumping a little as you felt his hands coil delicately around your hips.

The two of you leaned in, meeting in the middle in a collision of your lips, your hands tugging softly at his natural curls as you melted with satisfaction against one another. It was a slow exchange, full of passion and desire, and you wished it would last longer, however the alarm on your watch alerted you with a beckoning siren, causing you to defiantly pull away and huff lightly. "You have five minutes until you have to go on." You informed him, humming as Luke stroked your cheek.

He wanted nothing more than to lean in and get lost in you, to fall even further than he already had for you. But duty called, and he stood up straight, running his lips against one another as he vowed to never forget the first romantic moment that you shared. "I'll see you after?" Luke asked hopefully, his ocean eyes blazing with a new lease of motivation. Without a doubt you nodded, your hands ensuring that his shirt was done up and brushing down the smooth material to stroke out any creases.

"Of course. And then we could pick up where we left off." Your promise had a giddy expression morphing unto Luke's face, and you watched as he begrudgingly stalked off to meet with the other members of his touring team, excited to view his earth breaking performance from the sidelines. There was never a lyric that you skipped over, although today was different, you were strongly distracted by the leading man, and the before stage moment that you had just shared.

[5sospngpics]

Ashton and Luke png

[jerriescuddles]

clearing out my camera roll 1054/?

[ohitstransparent]

5 Seconds Of Summer

Asked by @adriannagonzales1026

[lamestlashton-blog]

my first transparent edit, it's a little bit bad

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 14 - Unexpected Meeting

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, who will they run into?, 3.2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention, emotional trauma

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

“Man, I need a break,” Reggie was saying as he strolled with Alex down an unfamiliar street in the early evening, stretching his arms. “I mean, being in the studio all the time has been good, but on top of everything else it’s just so much!”

Unsure where they were headed, Alex walked a few paces ahead on the sidewalk, casually navigating for both of them. He squinted as he looked at Reggie.

“Reggie, you dropped, like, all of your classes once we signed on.”

“Nope!” his friend exclaimed, tilting his head in a proud manner. “I just needed two electives to graduate. It’s okay, though, man. Not everyone finishes their math requirements as a freshman.” Reggie patted Alex’s shoulder, as if it were any sort of consolation.

“No, good for you Reg,” Alex said. His parents had paid for all this private tutoring and even gotten him to take some college credits early. Of course, his only serious plan after high school had been the band so it was all wasted effort, but then all of their attempts with him amounted to that. He was learning to feel less guilty over it. It wasn’t his fault they never cared about what he wanted.

“How long do you think Luke and Bobby are gonna be workshopping their parts together?” Reggie asked.

“Long enough. Where are we going, exactly?”

“Oh, I was just kind of keeping an eye out for anywhere interesting.”

Alex blinked. “I thought we were headed somewhere specific.”

“I’ve only been to this side of L.A. like, once, so I don’t think I’d make a good tour guide,” Reggie stated.

And just like that, Alex’s mind thrust itself back into remembering Willie. He was getting better at not crumbling completely in the moment, but it still felt like his heart was temporarily dunked into a dark ocean of misery. It would remain waterlogged and heavy inside his chest for a while.

“Alex?” Reggie was saying, looking at him with concern. “You okay?”

Snapping his thoughts back to the present, Alex sighed as he looked back at Reggie.

“I’ll be fine.”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket and pressed his arms against his sides. Shoulders hunched, he continued through the crowd. Focusing on walking would hopefully help it wear off. He made every step purposeful, trying to get the weight in his heart to fall through his feet. Reggie’s hand on his shoulder made him turn.

“It’s still rough, isn’t it?” he asked gently. “If I said something - ”

“It’s not your fault,” Alex tried to assure him. “Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere. Besides, I can’t make you and everyone else walk on eggshells.”

“Maybe not, but we’re in this with you. It may have been different for us, but we all met Willie. I’d never seen you warm up to anyone that fast. Even after a few months, it’s still fresh; don’t force yourself to be better for us.”

Pausing on the sidewalk, Alex looked up at Reggie. He tried to smile as gratitude edged its way in, relieving most of the heaviness in his chest.

“I appreciate that, Reg.”

“Of course, man.”

“So,” Alex took a deep breath to let everything else wash away as they kept wandering. “You made it sound like you had a lot going on. Is everything at home okay?”

Reggie shrugged. “Eh...no change there. My mom went to stay with her sister after the last fight, so my dad’s been trying his best to take care of everything, but he’s too upset to handle it well. My little sister has just been sleeping over with friends anyway, and I can handle myself, so - ” he shrugged again, “ - you know, I do what I can.”

Alex nodded. He had nothing really to comment, and Reggie knew he was always there to support him. This wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it still wasn’t right. Neither of them spent much time at their own homes, so wandering through the city like this kept them occupied when they weren’t with the rest of the band. Looking up at the store signs around them, he saw a record store about a block ahead.

“Hey, why don’t we check that out?” he suggested.

“Yeah!” Reggie said, dropping any ounce of gloom from the previous subject and skipping along to catch up with Alex.

A small bell rang as they came through the door, and they immediately began filtering through shelves of records and CDs. Peeking toward the back of the store, Alex could see a counter that offered a menu of food and drinks, some tables, as well as the smallest stage in the world. This seemed like a neat little place.

“Oh,” Reggie started after a while. “I got us a gig playing at my cousin’s wedding.”

“A wedding?” Alex said skeptically, turning from the Pansy Division vinyl he was checking out. “When we’re trying to finish a record and go on tour?”

“It’s Conrad, okay, he’s family! And he said we could make the setlist.”

Alex shrugged, considering that was fair.

“...with his approval.”

At that addition, Alex could only sigh and shake his head.

“And then maybe, you could, I don’t know, finally ask Bobby to be your date?”

Reggie put down the Mötley Crüe album he’d been examining and looked up at him in shock. Alex realized he’d possibly been too blunt. But immediately Reggie began to cover it up, laughing and shaking his head.

“What?” he said, his denial completely transparent. “Was that a...was that supposed to be a joke or something?”

Giving him a look of pity, Alex put his hands on his hips.

“You’re really gonna try to pull the wool over the eyes of your gay friend?”

Caught, Reggie looked back at him in defeat and bowed his head.

“I’m gonna guess you noticed a while ago?”

Nodding, Alex tried to soften his demeanor. 

“There’s been something up with you two for months. How come you haven’t tried to talk to him about it?”

Reggie knit his brow and began fiddling with his fingers.

“Well, I’m a little confused by it, to be honest. Cuz, I mean...I like girls, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“But I like Bobby, too.”

“Okay.”

His friend looked up at him, expecting more of a reaction. Alex leaned against the shelf and folded his arms.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with you? Because you’re talking to the king of wrong feelings.”

“Well, sometimes I feel like that, but not really. It’s something else,” Reggie said.

“Like what?”

“Well...we’ve been friends for years. It just sort of crept up on me and I don’t know what to do. What if he rejects it? He’s one of my best friends.”

Thinking for a moment, Alex looked down at his feet. He didn’t blame Reggie for being worried. He’d had a mini crush on Bobby for a couple weeks back in ninth grade and had the same dilemma. It was easier for him to get over, though, simply because it had faded quickly.

“Well, I wish I could say if it’s meant to be it’ll happen, but sometimes…”

Sometimes it dies in a fire before there’s any chance of knowing.

He shook his head to get rid of the awful thought and ignored Reggie’s look of concern.

“But if I know Bobby, I don’t think it’s going to harm anything. I think you should go for it, Reg. I truly, honestly, will back you up on that.”

A smile spread wide across Reggie’s face.

“Thanks, man!”

Without fretting over it for another second, he turned back to the shelf of CDs he’d been perusing, and Alex did the same. There was a crazy good selection, and Alex wished he could get his hands on a record player. Playing CDs on a boombox worked for some things, but there was a level of charm in playing something on a vinyl record that appealed to him even more. He made a note to get a small notebook to carry in his fanny pack, hoping to return to this store and make a wishlist of sorts to work toward.

“Do I see Alex and Reggie of Sunset Curve?” A familiar voice said from behind.

Both of them turned to find Flynn standing in the aisle, braids tied up into a high ponytail and eyebrow arched in her usual smart fashion.

“Hey Flynn!” Reggie exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. Alex went in for one afterward, happily surprised.

“Hey guys!” she said, grinning.

“What are you up to?” Alex asked.

“Gonna be performing in a bit,” she said excitedly. “Just a warm up before the main group comes on. I’ve been working on some of my own stuff; I think you guys would love it! Got time to stick around?”

“Sweet!” Reggie raised a fist for her to bump. “I’m down. Alex, wanna stay?”

“Yeah, sounds great!”

He had yet to see what Flynn was capable of. If he were to judge only on knowing she’d been in a duo with Julie, he expected it to be good.

“Also, you should try the burritos here,” Flynn told them. “They are to die for!”

The endless click-rollll-click-click-click of his board filled his ears as Willie moved through the street, feeling the wind pass over him in the way that made freedom feel like he could clutch it in his hands. He’d actually spent today not worrying about Alex. It felt good not to dwell on what little past he had access to. Of course, he still had repetitive dreams about the few memories that had come back, but the backwards one with Caleb in it hadn’t come back ever since he’d gotten to LA. Moving forward felt...nice.

He had spent the morning sketching at the beach, getting all sorts of practice in. The beautiful waves, seagulls, the different activities all around him. Somehow a group of young college kids had gotten him to join their volleyball tournament. Willie wasn’t sure if he’d ever played it before, but once he caught onto the game, he’d gotten surprisingly good. It felt nice to roll up the hem of his jeans and dig his toes into the warm sand while playing with a group of strangers. They’d nicknamed him Mowgli, whatever that meant. He liked the sound of it though.

Heading off to work after cleaning himself up, he realized he could spend all his free time that way. Peacefully sketching, meeting fun people, and enjoying his surroundings. Was that all it took to be happy? Willie chuckled at the thought of how much Caleb had stressed over rising to the top of his business game, never appearing to be satisfied with any of it. Leaving Vegas remained the best decision he’d ever made. Of course, he wasn’t always proud about his method of burning down the shed, but it had been one of those...heat of the moment things.

Willie skated up to the back entrance and shook his hair out after lifting off his helmet. Just a few short hours of making food, some chill entertainment, and he could peace out for the night. He headed inside the store and right into the small kitchen. Thankfully, the store didn’t fit too many patrons and it was never hard to keep up with orders, and Kyle had a system so he never had to leave the kitchen. This basically meant he could jam to the live music during the lulls between orders with no interruption.

Kyle entered the kitchen just as Willie was tying on his apron.

“Hey, dude, thanks for coming. We actually got two acts coming in, so it should be a full crowd. Katelyn can be the MC for the first bit, but do you mind taking over for the second half?”

A twinge of excitement came over Willie and he lit up. He’d never gotten to try being an MC before.

“Don’t mind at all!” he said.

“Alright, man!” Kyle exclaimed. “First two orders up: swamp style nachos and a bog burrito.”

“Got it.”

“We’re up for a big night with these performances,” the girl hosting hyped up the crowd. “Let’s give it up for our artist of the night: Flynn Taylor!”

Reggie cupped his hands over his mouth as he hollered along with everyone else’s applause. Alex clapped with a mouthful of nachos. Flynn stepped onto the stage behind a set of deejay turntables, smirking as she began flipping switches and turning knobs.

“Thanks for coming out here everyone,” she said into the mic. More applause and whistles echoed through the room. “We’re gonna make a lot of noise tonight, so let me hear you get pumped!”

As she began playing a beat, Alex bobbed along, immediately interested. He didn’t know a thing about mixing, so he was highly impressed with the different sounds she was using. Then Flynn picked up the mic and began rapping and the whole room cheered.

“...I’m a princess, I don’t need a prince, boy I’m priceless...I’m here to shut it down like a night shift…”

“Man,” Reggie leaned over to Alex. “She’s so good! I say we book her to open for us ASAP as possible.”

Alex merely snorted and chuckled at Reggie’s misuse of the acronym. He actually enjoyed the idea of having Flynn rapping to open for their rock shows. Gigs where all the bands sounded the same got a little flavorless sometimes.

“Also,” Reggie said as he took a huge bite into his burrito. “This is the best burrito I’ve ever had.”

“Lemme try some, you can try my nachos,” Alex said.

All Reggie could say was Mm! as he passed the burrito over.

The final beats of the first performer echoed in the kitchen where Willie had been dancing, waving various kitchen tools around. He’d thoroughly enjoyed the whole set, and wondered what sounded so familiar about the girl who was rapping. Before he could spend more time thinking about it, Kyle came in.

“Okay, you ready?” he asked.

“I just keep people busy and then announce the next group, right?” Willie guessed.

“Yeah, man, you’ve got this!”

“What’s the next group called?”

“Downslide. And they brought some merch, so it’s a good idea to mention that to the crowd as well.”

“Okay,” Willie nodded, slipping out of his apron. “Maybe I could put their t-shirt on or something, you know, sell the look?”

Kyle looked impressed. “Yeah! I’ll go see what they’ve got.”

He left the kitchen and hardly a minute later returned with a jacket.

“They said you could wear it for the night. Not gonna lie, I wish I could wear this, it’s a sweet jacket.”

Willie slipped it on, and turned around. He didn’t often wear jackets, but whatever it was made of was pretty soft.

“Guess I’m ready,” he said, giving Kyle a hand slide and fist bump before leaving the kitchen. He stepped up behind the microphone and looked out at the crowd, and further back, the empty store.

At that moment, he heard the bell of the store door ring and two guys walked outside. Through the window, a familiar leather jacket passed. Then, he saw a head of blonde hair follow, turning to look both ways to cross the street, and his heart grew to fill all the empty space in his chest. It was unmistakable. It had to be.

“Alex...” he breathed quietly into the microphone. Adrenaline immediately went out to his extremities. The crowd before him looked bewildered as they waited for him to announce the next group.

Glancing offstage, he saw Kyle give him a strange look. Willie shook his head, unclear what message he was sending but ultimately knowing he couldn’t stay at his current spot. Before he could think anything else, his legs were bounding out the door. It felt like every ounce of blood in his veins knew. The search was over.

Reggie and Alex had just reached the opposite corner. He wasn’t going to miss his chance.

“Alex!” he cried, running to meet them.

He immediately thrust his arms around a surprised Alex, gripping him tightly, burying his face into his shoulder.

“Oh my god, Alex!” he said, panting. “It’s so good to see you.”

He didn’t feel the hug didn’t reciprocate, and instead Alex grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away. The darkness of the street seemed to envelop him.

“What are you - ?” Alex started, staring back at Willie like he’d just been assaulted. Then shock wiped over his whole face. Then confusion. And then a pain came over all of it that made Willie’s concern grow.

“What - what is it?” he asked, all the excitement gone.

Alex wouldn’t look him in the eye, and he raised a hand to hold the side of his head.

“No, this isn’t real,” he whispered to himself, shrinking backward and shutting his eyes. “This can’t be real.”

Willie glanced over at Reggie, who also stared like he was seeing the impossible. He could see Alex shaking and heard a rattled breath, and felt tension grow thick in the air. Quickly, he went to take Alex’s face in his hands.

“Alex, hey, look, it’s me,” he soothed. He fought to get a look directly into his eyes. “It’s me, Willie.”

Finally, the green ocean gazed back at him, turbulent and restless. What once had been a grounding rhythm of waves had turned into a maelstrom of despair. Even worse were the tears welling up right before him. Willie watched the storm rage for a few seconds, seeking for a moment of calm.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured, lowering his hands. Alex looked so wounded it frightened him.

“How are you alive?” Alex begged to know.

Blinking, Willie sat back, astounded at those words. While he agreed it was a miracle he was still alive, he couldn’t fathom why Alex would ask such a question. He chuckled merely out of discomfort.

“I’m here.” Willie glanced at Reggie, looking for an explanation. “Flesh and bone. Why? What happened?”

Alex looked at him incredulously, jaw hanging open. He looked so tightly wound and so scattered all at once. 

“Caleb told me you were dead.”

Willie blanched inwardly at the mention of Caleb, but even more so at the rest of that sentence he’d been utterly unprepared to hear.

“He...he - ” he stammered for a moment. “When would you have even talked to him?”

Sharing a look with Reggie, Alex took a deep breath. Then he looked back at Willie hesitantly.

“We see him all the time. We work for him now.”

It was Willie’s turn to drop his jaw.

“We’ve been signed to his record label for a few months now,” Reggie pitched in.

Directing his gaze to the ground, Willie puzzled for a minute.

“Why would I be dead?” he asked, looking back up at Alex.

For a minute Alex simply gazed at him wordlessly.

“I don’t know,” he said. There was a pause as both of them finally looked at each other, fully aware that this was real. And then Alex threw his arms around Willie to return the hug. Willie had to raise himself up on his toes to avoid falling over, and he tightened his grip to remain steady. He felt joy spread through his whole torso and breathed a sigh of relief as hands tangled into his hair. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m so happy to see you.”

[wonder-womans-ex]

The Boys of Yesterday

Sometimes, Saint wonders what his younger self would think of the person he is now.

There are days where he knows that even a hint of the present would make Saint of the past try a little harder; keep going with just a little more hope in his heart. There are days where he’s sure that he’s always wanted to end up where he is now, even if he didn’t always know it.

There are days that he knows the boy from years ago would hate him for. Those are the days where he’ll stop dead in the middle of whatever it is he’s doing as cold, palpable fear grips him, a reminder of the knowledge that he’s a disappointment to anyone and everyone in his life, even himself.

And then there are days where he has trouble reconciling the two people in his mind. He’ll think about who he was then, and he’ll think about who he is now, and it’s as if there’s a line between them. A chasm, wider than anything, bottomless and endless and always there, no matter how desperately he tries to fill it. Sometimes, though—usually, even—he can imagine a bridge. He can find peace with the fact that he was one person, and now he’s another.

But once in a while, it’s like he’s watching someone else make mistakes, powerless to stop it or make it right or even feel guilty about it. He starts thinking about the boy he was then in the second person—me and I and mine turn to Sebastian and knuckles bloodied from fights and a heart full of anger he didn’t know what to do with.

That’s the kind of day today is.

He can feel it as something shifts. He tries to shield himself, but, too soon, it’s like he’s watching from a distance as an eleven-year-old boy named Bash is standing with his feet in the ocean for the first time in his life. He sees a gust of wind blow a lock of deep golden hair into the boy’s face, and then the boy is laughing, smiling, in a way he’s never really known how to before.

If Saint were that boy, not just a bystander from another lifetime, he would feel the sand, soft between the boy’s toes as he wiggles them. He would feel the cold of the water on the tips of his fingers as he crouches down, dragging them through a wave just before it breaks.

This is the scene that plays in Saint’s mind as he stands, hands pinned next to his head, against the side of the Lupins’ boathouse.

He hears the water lapping at the sides of the dock, beating out a soft, steady rhythm. He feels a spray of seawater pass through the air, dousing the left side of his body in cool droplets.

He sees the deep brown, one shot through with sea-green, of Luke Deveaux’s eyes as they stare at each other, neither daring to breath.

For a few long moments, it’s like the world is waiting for something to happen. Luke and Saint may as well be the only two people in the universe, as far as either of them is concerned—no voices are audible from beyond the shoreline, where their friends are playing beach volleyball and listening to music and falling in love; and, for once, the bright white triangles of sails are absent from the horizon.

Finally, Saint whispers, “What are you doing?”

Luke shakes his head minutely. Were it not for the distance—or lack thereof—between them, Saint wouldn’t be able to see it at all. “I don’t know.”

Saint wants to say that he doesn’t know, either, but he can’t bring himself to say the words. Instead, he smiles—one corner of his mouth twitches up, lips parting just enough to reveal the slightest sliver of his teeth.

He feels as Luke’s fingers tighten around his wrists. A tiny part of him thinks he knows why, and the rest of him hopes beyond hope that he’s not wrong.

“Why are we here?” he asks, instead, but the only response he gets is Luke’s jaw clenching as something shifts in his eyes.

After yet another long moment, he tries, “Tweedle?”

“Please.” There’s a note in Luke’s voice that says stop talking, but Saint can’t. He doesn’t think he even knows how.

“Please what?”

Three boys, young and burdened, two of them freer than they thought and one of them out of prison but still in chains.

“Just… just let me have this. Even if…”

A promise of something more; a hint of a life more than just survival.

“Even if what?” Saint’s voice cracks at the end, pitching up into a half-fearful whisper.

Sitting alone in the dark and watching a life he hadn’t lived yet flash before his eyes.

He doesn’t hear the reply—he doesn’t even know if there is one—because he barely has time to think before Luke’s lips are on his, warm and insistent and slightly rough. He kisses back without thinking about it, too, reveling in the way Luke’s hand slides through his hair and pulls them closer together.

They’re standing chest-to-chest, now, hearts beating frantically against each other. There’s some sort of symbolism there, Saint reasons, as he feels Luke’s pulse quicken more the longer they kiss.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders how long he’s wanted this—how long he’s spent looking at Luke and thinking there was something there worth loving. He suspects it’s a lot longer than he wants to admit.

Slowly, carefully, he lets one of his arms curl around Luke’s waist. His thumb slips under the hem of Luke’s t-shirt, sliding over warm skin and then coming to rest in the divot of Luke’s spine. There’s an intimacy to this—not necessarily to the kissing itself, but to the fact that neither of them has stopped the kissing, even though they both know they can’t be doing this. Not really. Not anymore—or maybe not yet.

Indeed, when Luke eventually pulls back, he doesn’t push Saint away. He doesn’t leave without explanation, the way he usually does when forced to deal with genuine human emotion. He just takes a deep breath, and then another, swiping angrily at his eyes with the back of one hand. Saint pretends not to notice the tears pooling there, one of which has already started to fall.

They stare at each other for a good ten seconds—maybe more; Saint can’t tell. It’s always as if time falls away when he meets Luke’s gaze, and now is no exception. Then Saint says, “You kissed me,” and immediately wishes he hadn’t.

“You kissed me back.”

Saint wants to make a snide remark about pointing out the obvious, but he catches himself just in time, realizing that would be vastly hypocritical of him.

“Why?”

They say it at the same time, then fall silent. To Saint’s surprise, it’s Luke who speaks up again first: “I think you know why.”

“No,” Saint says evenly, “I don’t think I do.”

“Well, I’m sure you can guess.”

A boy, black-haired and grey-eyed, who looked like love but tasted like loneliness.

This time, Saint lets his mouth curl up into a smirk. “Probably. But why don’t you say it?”

It has the opposite effect from what he intended. Luke’s eyes darken, brow furrowing into a scowl. “You’re mocking me.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” As he says it, Luke tries to push Saint up against the boathouse again, but Saint easily steps out of reach.

“Why would I be mocking you?”

“You fucker!” Luke is shouting, now; his voice is raised so much that Saint thinks the whole world must be able to hear. “It’s hard enough being in love with a… with a Hollow like you; you don’t have to play with my fucking emotions, too!”

That’s when he puts his hands against Saint’s shoulder and shoves.

Saint tumbles, practically in slow motion, off the end of the dock. He sees the anger drop from Luke’s face, replaced by an expression that looks to be part worry and part helplessness.

Splash.

The water is frigid—more so than he’d expect for this late in the summer—and it seems to envelop him completely, up and down and left and right fading away into a suspension that could last forever.

Just as quickly, it’s gone, and Saint’s head breaks the surface as he gasps for air. “Screw you, God!” he shouts, and, with a few strokes, he’s hauling himself back onto the dock. His shirt is soaked through, practically transparent, and his jean shorts are going to take hours to dry out, so he has no regrets about doing what he does next: grabbing Luke by the wrist and tugging as hard as he can until they both topple back into the water.

Dreams that felt like reality until he couldn’t tell the difference between flying and falling.

They’re underwater, now, hair drifting around their faces, and Saint registers that they’re still holding hands. Luke hasn’t let go, yet, and Saint isn’t about to, either.

Saint knows he shouldn't; they’ve just been arguing—but, then again, when aren’t they arguing? Plus, how is he supposed to not consider it, when their hands are still entwined and it feels like a crime to let go.

Luke's auburn hair is swirling around his face, defying gravity in the way only being submerged under water provides. His eyes are squeezed shut, which, Saint assesses, is probably a good idea, judging by the sting in his own. His gaze flickers down to Luke's lips—lips that were on his only moments earlier.

Suddenly, faster than he can think, Saint's self control leaves him and he leans in, connecting his lips to Luke's once again.

It’s even better than the first time. Fuck, it’s better than any kiss Saint has ever had. It’s passion and danger and something that feels a little bit like love.

At first, when Luke pulls away, severing the kiss entirely, Saint is terrified he’s done something wrong. But Luke only swims toward the ocean’s surface, pulling Saint along with him.

Saint, in his oxygen-deprived state, doesn’t understand—he wants to go back underwater, where Luke is his only tie to reality and everything feels like magic. Then he takes a breath, and the world comes back to him in painful clarity.

“Tweedle,” he says.

And, somehow, impossibly, Luke whispers, “I know.”

“But you don’t.”

Saint’s heart stutters at the way Luke smiles. “Why don’t you tell me, then?” asks Luke, and Saint can’t think of a good enough reason to disagree. He can’t think of anything except the way they’re as good as repeating their earlier conversation (and also the way Luke’s hair looks when it’s wet).

Two perfect eyes, full of a nameless emotion, staring at him from the other side of a bonfire and a bottle of beer.

Instead of saying anything, Saint leans in, closer and closer, until their foreheads are touching and he can feel Luke’s breath on his mouth and cheeks and nose. He hesitates for an instant, and then leans in, finally, finally, closing the gap between them.

This time, there really is something different. Somewhere, somehow, something makes a little more sense.

'I love you,' Saint will confide for the first time, later that night. He’s never said it before, because, before now, it’s never been true.

Sometimes, things are truer in the dark.

Sometimes, it takes too much courage to say what you really want to.

Sometimes, it’s easier to live in yesterday.

But sometimes, you don’t need to say anything at all.

amazing characters by @lumosinlove

thanks to @im-oknutzy-trash for letting me brainstorm at them and also writing one of my favourite parts of this when I was stuck <3

[collages-byamirah]

Don’t forget to like/reblog if you save any!

Hey I’m back after so Long! And this are some of my old un-posted stuff! Hope you guys like it! Feel free to request any!

(None of the pictures used in any of my collages are mine, unless stated otherwise)

[calumcest]

beyond beautiful is the sound of a ghost

written for the fic event i will add more detail later when the masterlist is up but its 1.6k! 

my prompt was lashton ghost hunter and i...sort of stuck with it...in a way

Being dead kind of sucks, sometimes. 

Okay, it sucks most of the time. Luke’s tied to the house he died in, doesn’t have anyone to talk to, can’t eat or sleep. The house has been crumbling down around him for decades, and visits from paranormal investigators petered out years ago before Luke had mastered the ability to interact with the physical world, so yeah, it fucking sucks. 

Sometimes, though, it’s pretty cool. Like when he hears three voices on the path outside the house, growing closer and closer, two people insisting that ghosts are real, Ashton, you’ll fucking see, now let us do our jobs, and one voice telling the others he’s cold, how long’s it going to take, you do realise you’re just going to be filming the fucking wind, right? 

“We’re not filming the wind,” one guy says, a little bossily, as he opens the door to Luke’s house. He’s looking over his shoulder, not into the corridor that Luke’s in - not that he’d see Luke anyway - and almost trips over the doorstep as he heads in. 

“Why the fuck did you even come if you think it’s all bullshit?” another guy says, following the first guy into the house. He’s a little taller than the first one, dark-haired where the first is blonde, and he takes the time to look around into the shadows, eyes flitting over Luke like he’s not even there. 

“Because Michael won’t fucking shut up about me not believing in ghosts until I come along with you,” a voice grumbles, and one final guy steps in through the door. He’s a little shorter than the other two, and from what Luke can tell he’s got honey-blonde hair curling around an angled jaw, hazel eyes roaming the corridor lazily. 

“Hey,” the first guy - Michael, Luke supposes - says, with a frown, and clicks on his torch. On instinct, Luke shrinks further back into the shadows, even though he knows he can’t be seen right now. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.” 

“Tried what?” the last guy says, sounding a little exasperated. “Fucking with things that don’t exist?” 

“Can’t fuck with them if they don’t exist,” the second guy points out. Luke thinks he’s got a point. 

“Are you going to let us do our jobs, Ashton?” Michael says, and the third guy rolls his eyes, folds his arms - Luke tries not to stare at the way his muscles flex - and tuts. 

“I can’t believe you get paid for this shit,” he mutters, as the second guy pulls out an EMF reader. Christ, it’s been a long time since Luke’s seen one of them. 

“You get paid to fucking bang things with a stick all day,” the second guy says. “How’s that any better?” 

“Fuck off, Calum,” Ashton mutters, and in the light of Michael’s torch Luke can see Calum’s lips quirk up in a grin. 

They head into what used to be the living room, and Luke follows them in, hovering in the corner of the room as Calum and Michael busy themselves with setting up some equipment in the middle of the room. Luke fucking hopes there’s a Ouija board amongst the tangles of wires and blinking lights. He’s not seen half of this shit before; it’s been so long since anyone’s come to visit. 

“Right,” Michael says, a little bossily, and turns to face Ashton with his hands on his hips. “You have to be quiet for this to work.”

“Why, ‘s the ghost got hearing problems?” Ashton says, sounding bored. Luke has to bite back a snort. 

“Just let us do our jobs, okay?” Calum says, spreading something out on the floor next to Ashton. Are those motion sensors? Jesus Christ. Luke’s actually sort of intrigued; he doesn’t know if he’ll set those off. He starts inching towards them as Calum flicks a switch and a light starts flashing, debates dipping a toe in. 

“Alright,” Michael says importantly, standing back from the mess of equipment on the floor. “Luke Hemmings, if you’re in here, let us know. We’re not here to hurt you.” Luke raises an eyebrow. Ashton might be here to hurt him. 

“Can you hear us?” Calum says. Luke’s not sure how he’s supposed to react. Speak back? No, he should save that for later. This is the first human interaction he’s had in at least five years, if his sense of time is still accurate; better to make it last. 

Instead, Luke knocks on the wall, two short, sharp raps that definitely can’t be mistaken for the wind, and watches as Michael and Calum’s faces light up first in surprise, and then glee. 

“Okay,” Michael says, clearly fighting to keep his voice steady. “Oh, fuck. Okay. Right. Uh. You are Luke Hemmings, right?” 

“That sounded more like a rat to me,” Ashton remarks. 

“A rat?” Michael says, sounding affronted. “What kind of fucking rats do you know that knock on walls?” Ashton shrugs, still looking singularly unimpressed. 

“Knock three times if you’re not a rat,” he says loudly, and Luke can’t help but grin as he raps on the wall one, two, three times. 

“Oh my God,” Michael breathes. 

“Holy shit,” Calum says. “Holy- okay, God. Shit. Okay. Fuck.”

“Maybe it’s a bird,” Ashton suggests. “They nest in places like this, don’t they?” 

“Are you fucking serious?” Michael says. He looks absolutely beside himself with excitement. “Oh my God, Cal. Oh my fucking God.”

“I know,” Calum says, sounding equally excited. “I know.”

“Have you guys ever actually encountered a ghost before?” Ashton says, sounding slightly amused. 

“I- well, we-”

“There was that time where the glass fell off the table, remember?” 

“Yeah, and when the door closed, and-”

“Okay,” Ashton interrupts, with a grin and a roll of his eyes. “So even you haven’t seen a ghost before.” 

“Well, not seen, no, but-”

“So how d’you know they’re real?” Michael and Calum glance at each other. 

“There’s so much evidence,” Calum begins, clearly a spiel he’s rehearsed, but Luke’s had enough. He steps out of the shadows, focuses for a moment to make himself corporeal, and then clears his throat. 

“Hey,” he says nonchalantly, and the three of them whip around, Michael squealing and jumping back a step and Calum almost tripping over the motion sensors, which start blaring loudly. Ashton just cocks his head, looking only a little intrigued. 

“Wha- oh my God, Calum, are you recording this? Are you filming this? Fucking- Calum, get the fucking camera out, so help me God-” 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Calum’s saying, fumbling with the motion sensors and staring up at Luke. “Shit, oh my God. You’re Luke Hemmings.”

“Yeah,” Luke says. He cocks his head, mirroring Ashton, and stares at him. “And you don’t believe in me.” 

“No offence,” Ashton says. 

“None taken,” Luke says. 

“You seem pretty, y’know,” Ashton says, gesturing at Luke, as Calum swears down at the motion sensors, trying to turn them off. “Pretty opaque for a ghost.” 

“Oh, you want the full ghost experience?” Luke says casually, and turns his right arm transparent. Ashton looks down at it, raises an eyebrow, and whistles, impressed. 

“Nice,” he says. 

“Thanks,” Luke says. Calum’s finally managed to turn the motion sensors off, and he scrambles to his feet, staring at Luke with wide eyes. 

“Oh my God,” he says. “Are you- are you real?”

“Yeah,” Luke says. “Hey, why don’t you believe in ghosts?” 

“I do,” Calum says. 

“Not you,” Luke says. He doesn’t much care about Calum or Michael. It’s the pretty sceptic he’s interested in. 

“Well, I do now,” Ashton says. 

“Are you- are you serious?” Michael demands, sounding torn between outraged and afraid. Ashton shrugs. 

“He’s standing right there, Mike,” he says, gesturing at Luke. “It’d be rude not to believe in him.” 

“He’s got a point,” Luke says, and Ashton grins. Luke’s stomach flips a little; it’s been too long since he made a cute boy grin. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be, like, scary?” Ashton asks curiously. Luke shrugs. 

“Am I not?” 

“Nah,” Ashton says, shaking his head. “You’re too cute to be scary.” Oh. Luke’s stomach likes that too. 

“Takes one to know one,” Luke says, and Ashton smiles, a real, genuine smile. 

“Hey,” he says, all conversationally. “Can you leave this place, or is that bullshit too?” 

“No,” Luke says, “that’s true.” 

“Oh,” Ashton says, sounding a little disappointed.

“Why?”

“I- well. I know a good place for cute boys.” Luke raises an eyebrow, like his stomach isn’t flipping and churning like it hasn’t done in at least thirty years. 

“Where would that be?” he asks, as casually as he can. Ashton’s smile turns into a smirk. 

“My bed,” he says, and Michael chokes. Ashton notices, because his smirk widens, and he adds, very dramatically: “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met.”

“You’re not flirting with the fucking ghost,” Michael says. “You’re not.” He turns to Calum. “Ashton’s not flirting with the fucking ghost.” 

“He is,” Calum tells him. Michael turns back to Ashton. 

“You’re not,” he says decisively. “You’re not flirting with the ghost.” 

“Is that so?” Luke says to Ashton. “Well. You’re in luck, because I happen to know another good place for cute boys.” 

“He’s not flirting back,” Michael says, to himself. “The ghost is not flirting back. He isn’t.” 

“He is,” Calum says, a little faintly. 

“He’s not.” 

“Oh?” Ashton says, eyes glittering. He’s having too much fucking fun with this. “Where’s that?” 

“A haunted house I know about,” Luke says. “I’ve heard there’s a pretty cool, very opaque spirit in there, too.” Ashton’s grin widens. 

“Really?” he says. “Sounds a little scary, to be honest.” 

“Don’t worry,” Luke says, mock-reassuringly. “I’ll hold your hand.” 

“Ashton’s not going to fuck a ghost,” Michael says to Calum. “He’s not.” Ashton turns to Michael. 

“I’m at least going to try,” he says, and Luke grins. 

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x reader (A/n- The past week has been hectic and tough, but we made it! Anyways, this may be the last update for this one for a couple weeks. Maybe. Finals are staring tomorrow, so I’ll only be posting things that I’ve managed to complete over the past two weeks or so. However, the exams are online and open book this semester, with way more time to complete them, so maybeeeee, I’ll sneak something in)

Summary Prologue  1   2   3  4  5  6

Warnings- Very, very slight smut

Chapter 7- Behind The Scenes

"And cut!" Jackson yelled, and after a minute of delay, Y/n along with everyone else in the scene stopped, some breathing sighs of relief, others diving straight into conversation. She'd been fretting against bindings on her arms and legs, though, upon his call, Y/n's muscles relaxed and a small group came to help out of the restraints that bound her to an old iron chair, which in actuality wasn't that old, in an abandoned warehouse, which really happened to be a section of the studio decked to look differently. 

From the minute the last of the rope was undone, Y/n stood, stretching her muscles. She'd been sitting in the same position for an hour. Just then, Keanu came over, wide grin plastered on his ruggedly handsome features, "Don't tell me I missed you being bound and gagged?" He teased, low enough so they wouldn't be discovered. While she'd been tied up, much like your typical kidnap victim, Keanu had been in the thick of his fight scene just a few feet off.

"Just by a bit," Y/n teased playfully. She was about to say more when Jackson approached them, his hair a wild, disheveled mess as it usually was and his grey button up was wrinkled to match his skittish, eccentric persona.

"There are my stars," he grabbed their shoulders, "I just wanted to let you two know, whatever’s changed between you two, I’m loving it. The chemistry is fantastic! Keep going like this and people will start thinking that you’re actually a couple!” As usual, Jackson seemed to completely forget about social cues, walking off before either of them could respond.

“Its….almost….like we’re actually a couple,” Y/n cocked her head to the side, a teasing glimmer twinkling in her bright eyes. Slowly, they started towards the entrance, close enough so her shoulder would occasionally brush Keanu’s arm, though not touching intentionally.

“I know,” Keanu scoffed, shaking his head, “It’s wild,” he chuckled, holding the door open so Y/n could exit first. The minute they were both outside, Keanu took a quick look around, before hastily shifting until he’d had Y/n backed up into the outer, grey painted wall of the studio, his front pressed firmly to hers. He looked down at her, feeling himself react to her coy, sultry grin, “I mean think about it; a girl like you, and I get to do this,” Keanu’s hands skimmed up her thighs, slow enough so his touch would send tingles up her spine as it made his way to her hips, slipping beneath the hem of her tattered, light blue blouse.

“I know right,” Y/n giggled, standing on her toes, “A guy like you, and I get to do this,” her fingers tangled in the ends of his soft, dark locks, twirling them between her fingers as she reached up to capture his lips in a kiss that quickly became heated. “We’re gonna get caught,” Y/n mumbled against his lips when he reached for the button of her jeans.

“You started it,” Keanu accused, pressing his denim clad hard on into her.

“Well,” Y/n giggled between passionate pecks, “Why don’t we finish this in my trailer?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“So,” they were huddled on the sofa, basking in the afterglow of their pleasure, "We're gonna be off for a month from next week. Got anything planned?" That was actually Keanu's way of asking Y/n if she'd be spending any time with him. It was illogical, but some part of his mind was worried that what they were doing was exclusive only to Chicago.

They weren't calling it a relationship. At least not yet. It was as if they were scared to.

Y/n shrugged in his embrace, absently tracing circles into Keanu's chest. "I don't really know yet," she thought for a moment more, "I'm definitely gonna spend some time with my dad, maybe I'll fly out to see my aunt," chuckling quietly, she eventually added, "And I'm dating this guy, he’s probably gonna want me to spend some time with him too.”

“Sounds needy,” Keanu played along, his fingers tangled in the ends of her hair, his other hand splayed on Y/n’s back.

Y/n made a little sound of disagreement, “He’s more of a control freak, especially in the bedroom,” she shifted so Keanu could see when she rolled her eyes, the gesture completely exaggerated, and when Keanu smacked her ass, Y/n yelped in surprise, “Ow!”  Her shoulders shook as she erupted in a fit of giggles.

“What about your mom?” Keanu probed when the mood settled as they lapsed into yet another somber bout. Up until then, Y/n never talked about her mother, she’d mentioned her father a couple times, never by name and only briefly. But never her mother.

Y/n didn’t make any move to respond immediately and Keanu was beginning to think that she hadn’t heard him. Or perhaps she’d wanted nothing to do with the question. Though, Y/n eventually gave in, feeling the weight of her silence press down on them, “What about her?”

“You aren’t going to see her too?” Really, it probably wasn’t his business, Keanu was mostly sure that Y/n would tell him about her family life if she wanted too.

Shrugging again, Y/n maintained her facade of indifference and if there was any turmoil swirling beneath her exterior, Keanu couldn’t readily identify it. Of all the women he’d met, all the women he could never figure out, Y/n was by far the most difficult. She was an enigma of sorts. Maybe that was what had made her so alluring. She was so quiet and reserved that an air of mystery followed her like plumes of smoke signaled fire and her demure disposition was perfectly enticing, her obvious innocence making Keanu want to show her things. Ruin her even. But only in the best ways. 

Y/n was the embodiment of a paradox, the thought; the more she told him, the less he knew. And her silences were typically quite telling. Much like the one she’d just sunk into. Her relationship with her mother was clearly a sore subject, and Keanu was about to remind her that she didn’t need to tell him more than she wanted to when Y/n spoke up, “I’m not, we haven’t spoken since I was fifteen.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, cuddling Y/n closer. Again, he wanted to know more. Yet, he didn’t know if it was even his place to prod around; Y/n didn’t exactly come across as the type that wanted to open just out of the blue like that. Still, he felt compelled to put it out there, “You can talk about it, if you want ”

On his chest, Y/n folded her arms, propping her chin there so she could almost meet his gaze, “I don’t want,” she rejected, already disinterested in the topic, “So, what about you; what are you doing with the time off. Any hot girls to keep you busy?”

Chortling quietly, Keanu let his rough palms inch lower, reaching her thighs and urging her legs open, “Oh,” he cocked a devilish grin, “Just one.”

It had been a while since she’d been there, but still, Y/n knew the place like the back of her hand. Her father’s beachfront home on the Malibu stretch was the perfect reflection of contemporary luxury; thirty two hundred square feet of modern architecture situated on thick round posts, holding the house nearly four feet off the pale sand. When tides were high, water would invade the space beneath the house, and unless you were willing to wade through a foot worth of ocean, then you’d be stuck there until the water receded. 

Inside, large panes of glass, lightly colored hardwood and white marble dominated. Natural lighting filtered in from several places, though transparent walls and awning windows, negating the need for bulbs during the day and the view from the living room was spectacular; the vast blue was straight ahead, just past an infinity pool that hung daringly over the shore. 

An open floor plan allowed one to still see the sparkling water even from the small kitchen, which was nearer to the front door. Y/n and Roger had spent most of their evening there, preparing dinner together. Or course, it might have been easier to order in or maybe even let one of the house keepers do it for them, but cooking together was something they enjoyed. It made Y/n feel normal; in the kitchen she wasn’t a rising actress and her father wasn’t an acclaimed director. It was just a father and his daughter, most of the time floundering around a recipe that was far too complicated for their sub par talents put together. 

That night, Y/n was on pasta duty while her father sauteed scallops in a white wine sauce, both often referring to the recipes on their phones. “I think I’m doing this wrong,” he eventually admitted, when for some reason beyond comprehension, the sauce started to dry down without the shellfish taking on the golden color it was supposed to.

“Maybe you didn’t put in enough liquid?” It was no doubt more of a question than sage advice, and Y/n was too busy trying to finely chop a handful of parsley to pay attention to whatever Roger’s troubles were anyway.

“You’re right,” he hummed, grabbing the bottle of Pinot Gris next to the stove, pouring a generous amount into the pot, “Wine makes everything better,” he chuckled. Y/n just shook her head, rolling her eyes absently at his ridiculous quip. “So,” Roger began once he seemed to get everything under control, just as Y/n finished draining a potful of al dente penne pasta, “How are things in Chicago?”

What he really meant was; did you ever work things out with Luke and he who had never been named?

“They’re good,” Y/n started up her own sauce, trying to follow every direction to the letter, unlike like her father, who usually preferred to add his own touch, even if his culinary skill set was next to nil, “Filming has been lots of fun, I’ve been…..hanging out with….people,” just one person really.

“You’ve been hanging out?” Roger seemed surprised, if he knew his daughter as well as he thought he did, and without fail, he really did, he knew for a fact that Y/n wasn’t the ‘hanging out’ type. She’d always been more reserved, keeping an alarmingly small friend circle and almost everyone at an arm's length. There was only a privileged few that had seen her for the sweet girl she really was, with an overly sensitive heart and an open mind. Most people, the ones that didn’t really know her often, though she was stand-offish and too prissy to hold them in conversation. “Are these people real?”

Y/n’s dismay came in the form of a huff, contained in her throat and an annoyed rendition of the classic, “Dad!” Huffing again, she continued the task as hand, measuring out the right amounts of stock before pouring it into the pasta, following that up with a generous handful of basil.

“Can you blame me?” Roger took a lengthy sip from his beer, proceeding to lower the lower the flame on his burner, letting their entree simmer. When Y/n just scoffed, he continued, determined to wean what he wanted out of her, “So, did you ever work things out with Luke?”

For a minute, Y/n considered pretending to not hear him, but there weren’t really any disruptive noises, unless you counted the crashing of waves muffled by the walls. Besides, she’d just feel guilty about ignoring him anyway. “No,” she breathed reluctantly.

Roger nodded slowly, regarding Y/n curiously, “But you’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” 

Why’d he have to know her so well?

Well, there was no point in lying anyway. “Yeah, we’ve been going out for about two months now. He’s nice.”

“Yeah? Nice enough for me to like him?” Of course her father would want to meet that man she was dating. Curse him for being so involved! 

Y/n just shook her shoulders, wishing that there was a way for her to just slither out of that conversation. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of dating Keanu or anything like that, but she still wasn’t really sure of what they were doing. He’d never called himself her boyfriend, and she had even considered that she might be his girlfriend. It felt even juvenile to have to think about something as frivolous as labels, but for the first time, Y/n understood Luke’s desire to have them. Labels were easy and unambiguous. There was no toeing around the subject or wondering where you stood. 

But on the flip side, Y/n wasn’t even sure if she wanted Keanu to be her boyfriend. He was a little confusing, serious most of the time but humorous at others and she constantly felt like he was holding out on her, like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And worst yet, Y/n didn’t think she’d exactly call herself ‘girlfriend material’, she was a little too self-concerned sometimes and found that she couldn’t always empathize when she was stuck in her own thoughts and feelings. Who wanted that for a partner? 

“Well?” Roger probed, awaiting an answer. Why was it so confusing? Because despite both their obvious flaws and incompatibilities, Y/n wanted things to work with Keanu. She thought she could want them to work in the forever kind of way, even if he didn’t seem like the kind of man interested in forever, even if part of her knew that she probably shouldn’t. 

“I don’t think we’re ready for that yet,” the mood changed and Y/n gave the pasta one last stir before turning the stove off, “We’re just…..”

“Seeing where things go?” He chuckled quietly, shaking his head, getting a couple dishes out of the overhead cabinet mounted to the wall over the sink, “Why are you young people always doing that? Seeing where things go? When I was your age, people dated for a future, for marriage.” Which was probably how he’d ended up with her mother.

At a loss for words, Y/n just raised her brows in unspoken annoyance as she took a generous swing from her own tinted bottle. She didn't really want to broach the whole ‘Keanu wasn't really her age’ part of her answer, "I don't know what to tell you dad. I'm just not looking for that right now," she shrugged, helping him with plating their dinner. Afterwards, he grabbed a couple of stemless wine glasses and Y/n grabbed a bottle of white from the refrigerator, following her father out to the balcony where they'd be having dinner.

 "What about him?" Their talk was starting to feel like an interrogation.

"What about him?" Y/n shook her shoulders, using the toe of her black ballet pump to shove the screen door open. When she saw the warning eye, scolding her sass, coming from her father's direction, Y/n sighed internally, relenting, "He's not looking for anything too serious either."

Y/n could see the worry in his gaze, nearly boring into the side of her head. Maybe it was the turmoil of her parents' marriage, maybe it was just her nature, but Y/n was proving to be repellent to stable relationships, not wanting to get too serious or go the whole mile. She knew that he'd probably blame himself for part of it, but she wouldn't. She'd cut that offender out of her life the second she could. They set everything down at the table that looked over the infinity pool and the ocean beyond. "Well, who is he?"

Ugh

Y/n was growing tired of the conversation. The less she gave, the more Roger wanted to know. Even if he hadn't been around a lot when she was younger, he always tried to be involved. Usually Y/n didn't mind, he was her go to for parental advice and a listening ear, but as of then, her dating life was a complicated mess and the last thing she wanted was for dad to give her a lecture on why she shouldn't be with Keanu. "It's the guy from Chicago," she evaded, "The one I told you about."

"I thought he didn't feel the same way?" He quoted. 

Pushing some food around with her fork, she shrugged childishly, staring at her glass, the chill of the wine fogging it over, "I guess I was wrong."

"You don't want to talk about this," he finally assessed, "But you know I don't mean to be overbearing, I just don't want you to get hurt again."

"I know," she nodded, "I won't," it was a baseless promise, Y/n had no idea on where things were going with Keanu, and it was likely to end badly, even if she was hoping for the best. 

Their silence stretched on for a while, but when Y/n broke it, she was adamant on shifting gears and getting them to talk about something else. "So, are you reading any new scripts?"

After a lengthy conversation about her confusing dating life, Y/n and her dad had spent the rest of their dinner talking about work. She'd left his place at around nine that Friday night, and after nearly three months of not driving on an actual street, she drove back to her place, a cushy condo in West Hollywood. 

Keanu had called and they'd talked for about an hour, in the end deciding that he'd come to her place that Saturday evening, just after sunset. And, as promised, he'd showed up at around seven, "Hey," he cocked a crooked grin, his motorcycle helmet chucked under his arm and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark jeans and his leather jacket zipped up. 

"Hi," Y/n pulled one of the heavy doors open a bit wider, wordlessly inviting him in through one side of the double entryway. The minute she closed the door and turned the lock, Keanu discarded his helmet on the counter of her moderately sized kitchen, just a few feet off from the entrance, laying his hands on her hips. He pressed a searing kiss to her lips, letting one arm circle her waist. 

"I missed you," he mumbled against her lips, his salt and pepper scruff rough and ticklish on her skin. As they lingered like that, Keanu tilted his head again, his calloused touch inching beneath the hem of her loose, cotton tank top. 

Y/n giggled softly, the musical sound muffled by his lips smooshed on hers, "We saw each other two days ago."

"Two days too long," he growled, tugging her closer that Y/n thought was possible. Really, he was right; in Chicago they saw each other every day, they had sex everyday. 

Y/n's hands skimmed the cool leather of his coat, sliding them upwards until her fingers were tangled in his ends of his shaggy, dark locks, tangling them around her little fingers, “You really missed me, didn’t you?” Y/n teasingly rubbed against his jean clad erection, smiling at how he hissed appreciatively. 

“Baby,” his husky voice was low and rich, the simple word making her feel things, “You have no idea.” Kissing her again, heated and hungry, Keanu pushed Y/n deeper into her apartment, just past a thick rectangular post, where the electronic fireplace was embedded and the television mounted above it. There was an armchair near the unlit fireplace, with soft white upholstering, complemented by black accent pillows, and as they reached it, Keanu slid his palms down the curve of her ass, hoisting her up in his arms. As he sank down into the chair, Y/n straddled him, eager to undo the zipper of his jacket before pushing it off, unabashedly moving on to undo the fastenings on his jeans. 

Groping her ass one last time, Keanu’s hands resumed their former task, traveling up the inside of her worn, grey top, his touch igniting shocks. His lips ravished her neck, probably leaving behind purplish bites and beard burn. Y/n ground in Keanu’s lap, moaning eagerly when he reached around to fondle her unrestrained breasts. Clumsily, she reached between them to free his hardened cock, when a startled obscenity erupting from near the kitchen interrupted them. 

Keanu’s hold on her boobs was still firm as sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Dad!” Y/n shrieked, more horrified than she’d ever been.

“What?” Keanu furrowed his brows, confused at her alarm, and why she’d stopped. Turning and craning his head to see who she was seeing, his eyes went wide, his jaw hanging slack. Just when he thought a situation couldn’t get much worse than sleeping with a woman and then having brunch with her and her boyfriend, Keanu was reminded that it always could. An uncomfortable and awkward brunch was certainly better than getting caught with his hands up the top of an old friend’s daughter. “Roger?”

“Keanu?” Needless to say, Y/n wasn’t the only one absolutely mortified with the situation. Almost immediately after, though still not nearly soon enough, Keanu dropped his hands, not really sure of where they should go from there on. 

It took another minute or two, but eventually, Y/n was scurrying out of Keanu’s lap, tugging at her tank top and loose, grey booty shorts. So much for hiding her somewhat complicated relationship from her father. Though, that wasn’t the issue hot on Y/n’s frazzled mind, “You two know each other?”

Red in face, Y/n stood, barefoot on the fluffy, off-white rug, unconsciously curling her toes into the fabric. Neither of the men made a move to answer and the sheer horror of the moment seemed to be mirrored three ways. Everyone was at a loss for words and tension was on a continuous rise; embarrassment, awkwardness and bubbling anger from at least one person. The room suddenly felt much smaller than it actually was, and though there was at least ten feet and one piece of furniture between Keanu and Roger, anyone could tell that whatever friendship was shared between them, wasn’t going to be there much longer. 

As seconds ticked by, and everyone processed what had just happened, it felt like time was passing too slowly for anything to make sense. Though, when the kettle finally whistled, the noise was piercing and what happened next was not what Y/n was hoping for. 

His face was beet read with anger and his fists were clenched at his side as Roger strode up to Keanu in long steps, “You’re fucking my daughter!”

“Dad!” Y/n screamed, and the rest of it was a blur.  

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited​  @paanchu786​  @thesadvampire​  @fanficsrusz​  @fickensteinn​  @ladyreapermc​  @babygirltaina​  @septimaseverina​  @snatchedbylele​  @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx​  @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan  @keandrews @greenmanalishi​

[jerriescuddles]

clearing out my camera roll 2145/?

[scav-eng-er]

“If Nothing Else, We Have This.” TROS Alternate Ending Part 2/?

okay..so I’m very tired and literally re-wrote the beginning so many times and I’m very tired lol (it’s almost 1 am) But here is the second part of my Alternate TROS Ending! I have an outline for part 3 already and MY REYLO HEART IS SCREAMING. Please be aware that I tried to give Leia the best of the best, so if there is something you guys think I could edit, please let me know. I really hope you guys like this and I am sending hugs and kisses to @reylo-trash-4ever and @mojona1999 because you two are my sweet reylomates and beans and ily <3.

Update: Im so sorry i forgot the first part if anyone needs the link lol sorry im a wreck. 

Part 1:  https://scav-eng-er.tumblr.com/post/190171393259/if-nothing-else-we-have-this-tros-alternate

“Any news from Poe and his team?” 

“Nothing yet General.” 

A wave of worry flushed over General Organa as she watched the makeshift screen blink rapidly. Tiny dots, indicating Poe’s X-wing and the rest of his ships, hovered around the grid, pinpointing their locations out in the battle. Occasionally, a red dot would disappear and across the base, another screen with the profile of the pilot would burn red with large letters titled: Connection failed. The chaos ensued back at the main base and was just as hectic as the actual battlefield. Commands were announced or yelled through holo-coms and com-links while groups from the skies and land asked what the next plan of attack was. More pilots ran around the princess, prepping their fuel tanks and testing their blasters, oblivious to see the exhaustion in her eyes. Technicians gave last minute check-ups on weapons and hurried back  and forth along the forest floor. Lieutenant Connix continued to give orders, her brows furrowed, her eyes flickering back and forth between the many screens. Leia sensed it, both sides were tired. The resistance were on their knees, using their last push of hope to try and defeat Palpatine. But she also sensed doubt in the First Order. In Ben. 

He was confused, hurt and torn. Pulled in different directions. This unknowing in him had already impacted the First Order and their so-called impenetrable power. When she felt him begin to question everything, just a few hours ago, she had finally felt more hope spark in her heart. She felt the heat of his saber as it impaled her son, Rey didn’t miss. Her heart soared when the refreshing feeling of Rey’s life force healed Ben’s wound. Yes, there was still hope. But was it enough?

Would this be enough to finally end it all? 

A sudden pain erupted from Leia’s chest. Sucking in a gasp, she quietly sat on a boulder, hiding her pain from scurrying pilots as they prepped for another take-off, soon to assist wounded comrades at Exegol. Her body was cold, and she felt weak, defeated…dead. Something had happened to Ben, her Ben. Her hand shook as she covered her mouth to prevent the whimpers of her sobs escape. Blinking back tears, and with the last reasonable idea she could think of, she reached out. Out to the one person she knew could help.

“Luke.” She whispered.��

He appeared to her, glowing brighter in the sun. His transparency, in no way hid his happiness to see his sister, aged with time from living her life. Even after all these years, Luke could see how youthful Leia was, her smile was timeless and her strength spanned generations. It inspired those who were now part of the resistance. He had told himself a million times how he wished she had continued her studies. Perhaps the galaxy would’ve turned out different, less pain, less hate. She would’ve saved Ben before Palpatine had even tried to touch him, preventing the world from becoming what it was now.

Yet, here they were, on the precipice of an ending war. The battle happening galaxies away that would determine the outcome of their family, resting on the shoulders of his nephew, her son. 

“It’s time.” Leia stated, her voice calm and strong despite the streaks of tears down her rosy cheeks. She was prepared, ready for this day. Luke sensed it too. He knew just how far a mother would go to save her son. He said nothing, but kneeled down and like so many times before, placed a sweet kiss on his sister’s forehead. Leia closed her eyes, not seeing the few tears making their way down Luke’s cheeks. 

And just as quiet as he arrived, he was gone. 

For the first time, in a very long time, Leia felt at peace. She stood up, no pain in her heart, no worries on her mind. The princess gazed at the base around her. Everything moved in slow motion. The sounds of people and engines droned out. Leia took a step into the sun. It was warm against her skin, as she remembered her life. 

Han, her loving, brave, handsome, and annoyingly-arrogant husband. He had filled her life with laughs, tears and love as they stuck together. He was at peace, she knew that. He had never been upset with Ben, he just missed his son. Their son.

Ben. Her only child who was caught in something so much greater than him. He was used and played with, torn and pulled apart until there was nothing left. Leia knew deep down, her baby Ben was there, waiting. The same Ben who wanted to be a Jedi, who wanted to come with her to meetings and visit as many galaxies as he could. The biggest thing Leia missed was how much he needed her. Ben would never admit to how many times he crawled into her bed after a nightmare, or how he pretended to not miss her when she was away. As a teenager, she saw him pull away, trying to be tough, and hide how scared he was, or that he needed help. She could never forgive herself for ignoring how he practically begged for her in his eyes, as the cold, grimy hands of the Dark Side gripped him by the shoulders. But now, Leia felt like she could still save her son, from everything. She could prove to him how much she loved him. 

She loved how much Ben needed his mother as a child, and now he needed her more than ever. The general’s world went black as she collapsed to the forest floor.

~~~~

Rey played with the hem of Ben’s shirt, the fabric wet with sweat, dirt and blood. He smelled like earth, and Rey realized she had never been this close to know that he smelled so..intoxicating. Every breath she took was so soothing, she couldn’t help but lean in closer. Ben’s eyes never left her, and Rey’s cheeks reddened at how beautiful he made her feel. The comfort in his arms was new, yet felt so familiar that she never wanted to leave. His thumb circled her arm as he held her, and goosebumps scattered down her body.

“So..long..” Rey mumbled, annoyed by how long they had tried to cover it up, or deny just how powerful their feelings for each other really were. This..connection was created before either of them were even born. This attachment and need to be near each other, to be together finally had an explanation behind it. Rey believed this would be the one and only thing she could actually thank their grandparents for. The two mens intertwined fates had curled and twisted. Hate, deceit, years of pain and darkness came to an end with her and Ben, here and now. So yes, she could thank them, for giving her Ben. 

Ben hummed in agreement, “Who knew we could be so..” he trailed off.

“Dumb?” Rey stated.

“I was going to say stubborn!” Ben couldn’t help but laugh, before engulfing her lips once again. Every time Ben kissed her, Rey felt like a bad memory was wiped away. Bit by bit, she was losing more details about her life of Jakku. She already couldn’t remember some scars she got as a child, or the names of rival scavengers who occasionally tried to gang up on her. It felt like he was taking away her pain and grief, replacing it with passionate kisses and featherlight touches she hoped she would never forget. 

They held each other for a few more moments in sweet, silent bliss before Rey interrupted with the lingering statement.

“We have to go back.” 

Ben sighed, “Or we could go…just…leave.” 

There was nothing more Ben wanted to then to just be with Rey. They could anything or nothing and he would be happy. If she wanted to boss him around on the falcon? He would do it without hesitation. If she wanted to settle in the greenest galaxy and continue her training? He would make her stronger than him. 

But the resistance? He would not just be away from Rey, but behind bars, in chains, with every other soul on the planet, maybe the galaxy, wanting him dead. 

“Ben,” She sounded serious, though her voice was quiet. “We’ll figure something out.” She continued to play with his hair. The black, damp curls twisted in her finger and she wondered what he would look like with braids. 

“Leia will help us, reduce your sentence. Banishment to another planet is better than life imprisonment right?” 

Hearing his mother’s name made his heart sink. Could she even look him in the eye? Would she cry? Scream at him? Forgive him? Ben had hurt her so much, he would understand however she reacted. He undoubtedly deserved it. Even so, he wanted to see her, to hear her voice. He pulled Rey’s hand to his lips, giving a heartfelt kiss before nodding.

Her heart beat rapidly in hope. Ben was going home. He was going to see his mother, going to see Chewie…but he would also see the resistance, including Finn, Poe and Rose. Rey didn’t care. She would do anything to prove just how alive Ben Solo was, with the pieces of Kylo Ren dying long ago. 

“Just..no matter what happens, you’ll come back to me right?” He mumbled into her fingers, almost afraid to let go. 

Rey smiled so hard, she could almost laugh. She stood up and pulled him with her, her hands never letting go. Even as he towered over her, he looked worried, his eyes trailing up and down her body, making sure she was still alright, still alive. Rey pulled his attention to her warm eyes.

“Nothing could keep me away. Not even death.” She declared. Standing on her toes, Rey wrapped her arms around Ben as she pulled him to her lips. He felt comfort in her embrace, like she would truly never leave him. Even when he would eventually be pulled from her grasp and thrown in a cell, he knew she would fight for him as hard as she could. They would be separated, of course, by distance, guards, and maybe even Leia. But he could wait, he had been waiting for her his whole life anyway. So many had passed through his life in fleeting increments, he could hardly remember any faces, knowing they would all be there one moment, and gone the next. Rey was solid, sturdy, and there for him, with him. At the end of all this, Ben finally felt like he could belong somewhere, in her arms. 

The two pulled apart when the noise of battle erupted the from the skies and shook the ground beneath their feet. They ran back to the surface, forgetting the pain they had just endured, ready to take on the next adventure together. 

Rey burst through the stars in the X-wing, Ben seated behind her. They danced among the falling debris as it crashed back onto Exegol. He watched as Palpatines undead fleet fell, returning to their graves. Feeling his darkness fall with them, a small smile grew as he said goodbye to the shadows that had trapped him in. Feeling light as a feather, Ben settled into his seat. His eyelids were heavy, and he suddenly felt so tired that he just couldn’t stay awake. As he felt himself drift to sleep, he could vaguely hear the voices and shouts from Rey’s helmet comlink, screams of victory as everyone announced the First Order had officially fallen. 

[ohitstransparent]

5 Seconds Of Summer

Asked by @ashton-is-a-unicorn

[tkhemmings]

[bananashemmo]

Committed The Robbery (Part 12)

Pairing: Y/N/Gangmember!Ashton

Rating: NC-17

Request: Yes

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Summary: On a scale from 1 to shit, how fucked would Ashton be if he ended up banging the other gang member Luke’s little sister Y/N?

Read Committed The Robbery on Wattpad

"I'm not so sure this is a good idea." You mumbled carefully, looking up at Michael unsure. But he had a way different expression on his face, a wide grin.

"I know this is not a fucking good idea," Luke exclaimed from your behind, his arms crossed and his ass pressed against the navy blue chair he was sitting on.

Michael looked into the large mirror in front of you to glance over at Luke. He knew it was pissing him off and it only encouraged Michael even more to laugh and smile. It was almost as if he was enjoying it.

"This is going to be brilliant," Michael whispered to himself and let the strand of hair he had just curled fall to your shoulders.

You had a gutted feeling in your stomach.

You were sitting in front of a large closet that had a mirror on the door. The hotel room you were placed in was large, but still not enough to be a suite. This hotel was way fancier than what you could afford, but the boys had insisted when you had checked in.

You had no idea how you had suddenly gotten into this mess. But here you were, suddenly thrown into a mission.

To be honest, eavesdropping again wasn't really your type of thing. But when you heard a new plan from the boys that may or may not have you included, you just couldn't help yourself.

You knew the boys were planning onto something big and that included breaking into Walker's mansion. You knew, that they did not want to include you in any way but that was when Michael came up with the most brilliant idea ever.

"Can we go through the plan again, please?" You looked up at Michael almost insecure, "I'm not sure if I'm able to do this."

"Of course you are." Michael responded and Calum agreed, "You have Hemmings in your blood. You were born to be sneaky."

"I couldn't even hide a Snickers from Luke if I had stolen it from him." You almost wanted to whimper, not really sounding that convincing but it was, in fact, the truth.

"Let me explain." Calum folded his hands together and stood up from sitting on the bed. Luke was still sitting with crosses arms and not to mention Ashton who stood by the balcony, smoking. He didn't want to be a part of it, he agreed with Luke.

That usually didn't happen.

"For as long as we can remember, Marc Walker has gotten a security system and bodyguards in front of his mansion since he took over from his mother's death back in 2012. And we're not just talking about a little security system, we're talking a massive one. Cameras all over the place along with a code system you need a card to get in through. I don't know if it's harder than that, but last time we tried to break in we couldn't because we needed a security card. Which all the bodyguards wear dearly. Don't underestimate them."

You were trying your best to keep up but the explanation was long. Calum had just begun.

"At first we brainstormed. Tried to come up with something to get that security card because that is our first step in getting Marc Walker on a plate. At first, the ideas were simple. But then Michael came up with a brilliant idea."

You looked at Michael by the mention and he wiggled down at you with his eyebrows. He was still holding your hair and curling it. You wondered where he taught that skill because it wasn't really something most boys did.

"Every Friday this guy named Christian Bell is hanging out at the local casino at this hotel. It is not a coincidence we know it because we've seen him a couple of times. This is literally the hotel of all drug addicts and sellers. He's one of Mark's closest security cards and he would recognize us if we approached him. Instantly. So Michael came up with the idea that an unfamiliar lady face with a sweet personality will distract him upon being unaware of his security card."

"And that's me?" You widened your eyes. When they said you were going to be a part of a mission, you had not expected it to be this. And definitely not where you needed to impress someone and get their attention.

You looked over at Ashton who was blowing out smoke from his mouth. He wasn't saying a thing but his hazel eyes were saying thousands of words.

"We all knew that Michael was going to do your makeup and hair, and we've also picked out a dress. A black cocktail dress, and don't worry. It's long sleeved but short, so there's not cleavage. Luke's orders."

You looked over by the mention of Luke, who looked even angrier than Ashton. He was probably just happy that he decided to have a few words said in this.

"But what if he notices I'm Luke's sister?" You questioned with wide eyes.

"He won't." Calum quickly answered and watched Michael let the last curl fall.

You were almost done, you just needed to change your clothes.

"But what if he does?"

"I'll shoot him." Ashton quickly answered and let the last bit of smoke out from his lungs.

You looked over at him with confused eyes but decided not to say anything. Michael poked on your shoulder and. That was your queue to stand up and get changed in the bathroom.

Ashton didn't want to say anything as the boys started to talk about what was going to happen. To be honest he barely wanted to watch. He didn't have the nerves to know that you were probably at risk.

He couldn't forgive himself if something happened with you and he had the chance to say something against it.

"Perfect." Calum clapped his hands together when you walked out of the bathroom.

The dress was short, yes but still a bit loose. It was actually nice to wear because it was long sleeved and soft. You also wore white shoes, it looked a bit outstanding but you decided just to go with it. Michael's decision after all.

"You need to remember to wear your hair down." Calum reminded and Michael walked over to stand in front of you.

"I've sown a microphone into your dress. It's right above your chest so it won't be noticed. This is a little thing you're going to have in your ear. If he sees, lie and say you're wearing a hearing aid. Otherwise, than that, try to hide it." Michael explained and you nodded understanding.

You felt as if there was some sort of pressure on you. If you fucked up, it could ruin everything.

"Are you going to be there?" You looked over at Luke with soft eyes.

You didn't just want him to be there. You needed him to. It was what made you feel most safe and you needed Luke's support. Even if he disagreed that you were the one being the 'target'.

"Of course." He answered just as softly and moved away from standing against the wall.

Ashton threw the cigarette over the balcony and headed towards the others to pack their things. They had also dressed nicely for the evening, all wearing some sort of dress shirt.

Kind of a contrast to the normal attire.

You breathed in heavily and felt your fingers shake. This was going to be one hell of a ride and you were nervous to step into it.

When you walked into a casino you were distracted by the many lights flashing. It was actually crazy how somebody could stand here without getting some sort of distraction.

It was practically a scene out from a movie.

You looked over your shoulder just to see where the boys would be heading. They needed to be somewhere they wouldn't get noticed by Christian but also close enough so they could tell what was going on.

You knew you weren't supposed to look over your shoulder so you kept your eyes ahead and continued to walk into the room. With direction towards the bar.

"Play a little hard to get. I'm sure he's into that." Michael said into the microphone he was wearing and you pressed against the ear speaker to hear him clearly.

"Okay then." You mumbled, more to yourself than then but they were able to hear.

"Eyes on the target. He's the one in the navy blue blazer."

Your eyes scanned the crowd of people, trying to find the one Michael was talking about. Your eyes stopped by the middle of the bar where a black-haired male was wearing a navy blazer.

You tried to scan where the boys were just in confirm but you couldn't see them. Hopefully, they could see you.

Shaking your head carefully and taking a deep breath, you moved your feet and headed towards the empty stool next to him. If it wasn't him, Michael would probably say something into the microphone.

You could feel your fingers shake when you took a seat next to him and folded your hands together.

If he was just a little bit smart, he could tell that you were nervous just from how your attitude was.

You glanced shortly over at him and focused back on the menu card in front of you. If you had to seem confident, you needed to pretend like you already had control of everything and knew what you were doing.

"I'll have a Balkan with Sprite, please." You said casually to the waiting teacher and he nodded his head impressed.

You could sense the male next to you staring but you decided just to look forward as you didn't mind anything. You could hear weird noises coming from the microphone and you tried not to furrow your eyebrows by being distracted.

"Balkan! Is she crazy? That's one of the strongest vodkas at the bar!"

She could hear Luke faintly but Michael was probably the one holding the microphone so it only sounded like whispers. You could tell from his tone that he was upset.

You looked up at the sign again where you had read the vodka and felt how your mouth was about to drop.

You could barely take a normal shot of a Jack Daniels. How in the world were you going to drink vodka with over 50% alcohol?

When the drink was served you looked at it as if it was poison. It looked like a normal Sprite, no wonder since the vodka was transparent.

The male was gazing over at you again, moving his body to the side and that was when you noticed the small badge hanging in his pocket.

It was Christian Bell.

You held in your breath and looked back at the bartender just to look at something else. You could feel your heart beat faster, you thought it was easier just not knowing that it was him.

"Well, cheers." You decided to give in and said it out loud to get Christian's attention.

He looked over at your small hand holding the large drink and he decided to grab his own as well. You assumed it was Coca Cola with some sort of liquid into it. Probably a good Bacardi.

"Cheers, love." He said, strong British accent instantly filling your ears.

You widened your eyes, totally taken aback. You didn't expect that he was British, it wasn't often you heard an accent apart from the Australian ones at the bar.

You took a very small sip of the drink but even by that, you just wanted to spit out already. That little droplet of drink on your tongue was enough to feel your throat was on fire. Literally.

You just wanted to exclaim 'oh my god' but you played it cool and placed it down on the table.

"Some sort of hard breakup?" Christian asked and nodded down at the drink, "I mean, I don't believe you would drink household detergent on free will."

You looked down at the drink as well and couldn't help but laugh at his comment.

You decided just to play along.

"Does it look that bad?" You asked, leaning your cheek against your hand.

Christian shrugged his shoulder and moved so his chest was facing you instead of just sitting by the side. He was wearing a black dress shirt inside.

"No, you don't look bad." He smiled and took a sip of his drink.

"That's not what I meant." You answered and he was quick to comment, "I know."

You looked at him a bit taken back but regardless you actually had a large smile on your face. Your cheeks were starting to become red and you tried a small sip of your drink.

"This is so brilliant." You heard Michael mumble in your ear but it was soon replaced by Ashton's angry voice.

"He's obviously flirting with her and they are barely into the conversation yet!"

You looked back at Christian and ignored the sounds coming from your ear. It was hard trying to listen to them but still continue to look like you weren't hearing voices.

Christian both seemed and felt like a smart guy. He could probably sense your different behavior by one click.

"There's this guy that I like and no matter how hard I try... I just don't think he's into me the same way I'm into him."

You tried to sound as casual as you probably could and it worked. You caught his attention and he scratched his freshly shaved face.

"Oh really? Normally it's the roles reversed." He answered and sipped on his drink, "I mean, not trying to put you into a box or anything. I'm just saying that usually, it's us boys' trying to chase the girl."

"Well, I don't think this guy knows that I want to be chased." You mumbled and fiddled with your fingers, trying to look a bit nervous.

"Why don't you just run?" He asked and by the question, you furrowed your eyebrows.

You didn't know to answer because honestly, he was tempting. He was very interested in the conversation and observed your facial expressions. You felt as if he was reading right through you. Maybe he was.

I don't want to run because there's an end to every tunnel. I just need to stop running against the walls."

He seemed impressed by your words and lifted his glass in cheers.

You wanted to be polite so you lifted the glass again and took a small sip. You had barely touched it, to be honest, and you wished you had picked something else. At least something that wasn't so strong your stomach was also burning.

He chuckled lightly by your action and you furrowed your eyebrows.

"I mean, come on." He looked at you and you felt your heart skip a beat.

"Can we please get a Strawberry Daiquiri for the lady." He asked towards the bartender and he nodded his in agreement. "Coming right up."

You looked at Christian stunned, not really knowing what to say. He smiled back at you and laughed quietly by your reaction.

"As I said, come on." He nodded his head down towards the drink, "You're not a great lier. Instead of drinking Balkan trying to convince yourself that you like it how about drinking something you actually enjoy?"

You didn't know what to say and you tried to listen if the boys were saying anything you could respond. But nothing and you ended up chuckling as well.

You wanted to play along on his game.

"Who says I like a Strawberry Daiquiri?" You crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair.

He looked challenged by your question and scratched his chin.

"The cocktail dress, the curly hair, the makeup. I don't want to put you into a type but I'm sure you like a Daiquiri. Along with you don't drink beer unless it's the cheapest thing on the menu, you walk home at 2 A.M but not without a conversation from a friend to make sure you're walked home safe. You sleep until 11 and you don't like cheese."

What an analyzing type. You looked at him with raised eyebrows. You didn't want to turn down his ego and tell him that he was wrong, so you decided just to smile at him and nod your head impressed.

You wished the boys could say anything. You needed to know what you were doing was correct.

"See. I'm a people reader." He raised his hands and you giggled fakely.

"You don't say." You smiled at the bartender when he placed the drink in front of you. No matter if Christian's ego was bigger than Greenland, you still liked the Strawberry Daiquiri better than the Balkan Sprite.

"People reader my ass."

You suddenly heard voices in your ear again, you almost thought they had forgotten about you.

You smiled at Christian and tried to focus on hearing what they had to say while looking down at your drink.

"Ask him where he works for a-," Before Michael could finish his question Christian looked back at you with furrowed eyebrows.

He looked mad but it was also with a hint of concentration. You felt as if your heart was skipping a beat or two and just by the way he was looking at you, you wanted to scream at Luke for help.

"Now I know where I've seen you before." He suddenly said and you opened your mouth but no words came out.

"Oh my god, Y/N you have to walk away!" Luke said into the microphone but he was replaced by Calum's voice.

"She can't leave, are you an idiot! If she starts to run, that is when he realizes she is on a mission!"

"Quit it both! We don't know what he has to say yet." Michael interrupted them both and held his head high.

You couldn't hear Ashton in the discussion but you assumed he was sitting tight and watching your every move. He would never allow something to happen to you on his watch.

"We've never met before." You swallowed quickly and took a large drink of the Daiquiri. You didn't know what else to do but you also had to deny his words.

It was, in fact, true what you were saying. You had never met before if he felt he had seen you before it would be on a picture.

"I'm so sure." He nodded his head but didn't look at angry as before.

He reached down to grab his phone and opened it. You watched him carefully scroll through his pictures until he showed you a picture of someone in a football uniform.

It was James.

"You know this guy?" He asked and you quickly looked him in the eyes.

"Who is it?" Michael asked in your ear but you couldn't answer.

"I think I've seen him around campus. Maybe we have a class together or something. He seems familiar." You shrugged and swung your leg over the other.

Christian nodded his head impressed and looked down at the phone. "I'm a friend of the family. I've been to the place a few times. It doesn't really have the best rumors but you know, that probably isn't something that's ruining your experiences."

"Yeah, I mostly spent times with my friends." You replied and tried to scan the place for Luke or the others.

"That's good. Whatever they say, you need to stay away from that Hemmings' guy. I'm not sure if he's still there but that boy speaks trouble."

You widened your eyes and no words came out of your mouth.

"I'll keep that in mind." You said through gritted teeth and felt something needed to happen.

You could see that the card you needed was in his wallet. It was placed on the bar table so all you had to do was reach forward and take it. Easier said than done.

"We need to distract him." You heard Michael said and you nodded your head in agreement, assuming they could see your face.

"Now." You mumbled almost in a whisper, not wanting Christian to hear.

You didn't know what they had planned but it was quickly shown when you heard the sound of someone dropping at least 50 small coins. You looked towards two males standing in front of each other and faintly you noticed Calum's shadow disappear.

It was like a fire had started between the guys and they were starting to discuss.

"Woah, what's going on here?" Christian stood up from his chair quickly and headed towards the males.

"He literally just knocked into me!" One said and the other disagreed with, "I didn't, someone fucking pushed me!"

You felt your heart was about to break out of your chest. But this was your moment and there was no time wasting, it had to be done now otherwise you wouldn't make it.

Grabbing his wallet quickly you didn't care if someone were watching. You just had to get over with this and after grabbing the card from his wallet, you placed it back as nothing happened and stood up from your chair.

You felt as if you were about to throw up and you sprinted towards the exit where you came from in the first place.

You didn't dare to look over your shoulder but while exiting you could hear Christian still talking with the males.

When you walked outside the hotel just to get some air you were met by the boys showing up in one big circle. You hadn't noticed that you were trying to catch your breath but you smiled through it.

"You fucking did it." Michael cheered loudly and you quickly gave the card to him. You didn't want to hold it anymore, you felt bad luck would hit you if you had it.

"Yeah, I guess I did." You breathed in through your nose and enjoyed the feeling of freedom.

"I'm proud of you." Luke smiled as well and gave you a squeeze on your shoulder.

You grinned up at him and ran fingers through your hair.

"You saw the drink I ordered? I totally panicked." You tried not to laugh but they all did. Expect Ashton, he was keeping a bit distance and stayed quiet.

You looked over at him shortly but your attention went back on Luke.

"We're heading back to the hotel rooms to celebrate. If you want to join, you can do so."

"I think I just need a little bit of fresh air." You nodded your head towards the water fountains there were placed in front of the hotel entrance. They were also colored because of lamps, it looked beautiful and cool at the same time.

You heard them mumble goodbye and you headed towards the fountains. You could sense that Ashton was still there, you could see his curls in the corner of your eye.

You placed your hands on the white rack and watched the water rise and fall.

"You know, I was a complete nerve-wrack back there." He nervously placed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and sighed carefully.

You glanced towards him with your hands still on the white rack, watching him shortly before your eyes adverted back to the water fountains.

"I'd lie if I said I wasn't just a bit scared myself." You mumbled under your breath, loud enough for him to hear and he nodded.

He sighed carefully and water the waterfall as well. He looked back at you to see the colors in your face change. Right now the water fountains lights were a mix of purple and blue.

You looked at him as well and smiled carefully.

"Why was it a problem he was flirting? I don't think it was anything real." You questioned out loud carefully.

Ashton sighed again and looked down at the waves of water, "I was afraid that it was going to escalate quickly."

"Escalate how?"

Ashton bit down on his lip and looked over at you almost embarrassed.

"That he was going to end up kissing you or something."

You looked down at the ground in thought by his words. He didn't need to explain himself to let you understand why he was reacting like this.

"I'd never want to kiss him..." You paused quickly and looked over at him to grab his attention. You already had it and his hazel eyes stared at yours.

I want to kiss you."

He had to blink twice just to make sure what he heard was correct. You could feel your heart beat, much faster than it had all night.

You looked at Ashton not sure if he had heard you but he did.

Reaching forward to caress your cheek carefully he used his fingers to move your chin and pressed his lips against yours.

It was a short kiss, but warmth and passionate at the same time, making your knees going weak.

You had to bite your lip and you almost didn't want to open your eyes when he pulled away, his lips were lingering on yours and you could feel how you were already craving for more.

[musicalmukebox]

Let’s Get (Back) Together | l.h. (16)

Ctto of the gif!

AU: Parent Trap Dad!Luke

Summary: A strong love which led to a strong marriage and twin daughters. Yet in the end, it didn’t turn out so well. You strongly refuse to encounter him ever again. But what happens when both of you coincidentally send your twin daughters to the same summer camp in Florida after 10 years?

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of cheating

A/N: I’M SO SORRY I DISAPPEARED AGAIN!! Anyways, I am back and I’ll make sure to be more consistent especially that we are near the end! Damn, if you think I’ll let you breathe after all the drama happening, well think again! Hope you enjoy this mix of fluff and angst! I love you all!

I don’t own Parent Trap and its ideas. It’s only used as inspiration.

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Feedback/Questions/Others? Here.

-

2023, Los Angeles

Beads of sweat from your forehead did not cease to stream down continuously while you were leaning forward on the hospital bed, having one hand toughly gripping on one side handle of hospital bed while the other one was clutched on Luke’s arm. Red nail marks trademarked his skin, wincing at every tense squeeze from you, though he couldn’t blame you at all.  

“I hate you, Luke Hemmings! So much!”

Not entirely true, you screeched at the discomfort at your lower abdomen. How was your mother capable of this? How did Eleanor do it? They struggled with delivering one child in one go, but how about two in your case? Torture.

“You’re doing well, (Y/N). I can see the head of the first twin!” Dr. Kate praised, viewing your core in its entirety. Your body was growing too exhausted by the intensity and closeness of every contraction that was hitting, and your breaths grew shorter as you pushed. Yet it was like nothing was changing.

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t do this!” You cried out, stopping your motions to pant out all that forced effort and lying back in bed to catch your breath. “You did this to me, Luke! Fuck!”

Luke knew you didn’t mean it, and Lord knew he hated watching you in agony because he contributed half of your current state, fearing whether any complications through the delivery process would erupt. He just wanted everything to be safe and pain-free, until you chose to deliver naturally without any anesthetic. Quite a risk, but you are not bringing your twins through the usage of any drugs.

You were on the verge of giving up at the moment, craving rest before trying again. But the contractions were too strong for you to doze off, which only prolongs the physical agony. Damn, once you see your mother later, you are going to spill out words of praise for being able to handle this. Through your weakest moment, Luke took this opportunity to kiss your hand, and tell you motivating words because he knew you were much stronger than the contractions.

“Fuck (Y/N), I’m so proud of you. You got this, okay? Bean 1 is almost here.”  

As simple as they were, it mustered up a few more bits of courage and strength for you to channel. Rising back up from your discomforting position, you signaled Dr. Kate that you were ready to go at it. “You sure, (Y/N)? You drained yourself in that last round, and you have another child to deliver.”

Gazing up to meet Luke’s eyes, who has not leaving yours, he held on to your sweaty palm with a hopeful look. “Absolutely.”

Two more tear-jerking pushes alongside a few screams and bean number one was out. Grunting out a heavy breath, your body sunk back at the bed in exhaustion though there was a slight decrease in pressure at your lower region. As you tried to catch your breath, loud wailing surfaced within the hustling of the nurses cleaning off the firstborn. Your droopy eyes got a look of the child, and in awe is the best way to describe this moment.

“It’s a baby girl, Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings. Congratulations.”

Luke couldn’t stray away from the little babe getting cleaned up by one of the nurses, already impatient to carry her in his arms. Most first-time fathers would be fearful with carrying their newborns, yet Luke felt otherwise. He’s waited so long for a child of his own, though having two at the same time isn’t any different.

Though before you would formally meet her, there was still another one who is dying to be delivered and eager to meet its parents. Yes, it. Luke and you chose to find out the gender of the twins on the delivery day. Luckily, bean number two was kind enough to be less painful than its older sister and slid out so easily after three pushes.

At long last, full relief has washed over you with heavy fatigue after almost 20 hours of labor. Slowly resting back on the bed, bean number two screamed its lungs out to alarm of its beginning of life, and only there, tears came running down after everything that has just happened.

“Another baby girl only 10 minutes apart, Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings. Congrats again.”

It’s finally official, you are both parents.

When baby number two was quickly cleaned off the fluids that stuck to her body, she and her other sister were carried by two young nurses and handed one each to you and Luke. They were already sleeping peacefully, fidgeting a bit to find that comfortable position to continue their slumber. The younger one was with you, sporting a knitted purple beanie which you’ve received as a gift from Eleanor on your baby shower. Her cheeks were irresistible not to caress with your index finger up and down, gaining a tiny smirk that softened your heart. “Hi, baby. It’s your mom. Oh, you’re so beautiful.”

Admiring her quietly and even nuzzling your face on her fragrant figure with the famous ‘baby smell’. Dr. Kate’s voice pulled you out of your daze just for a few seconds with a question. “Have you thought of a name, (Y/N)?”

“Yes.” You beamed with pride.

“What would it be then?” Dr. Kate inquired, clicking her black pen down to release the tip as she prepares to write.

“Rebecca Audrey Hemmings.” You catapulted back up to your upright position, acting more proper. Well, tried because Rebecca’s tiny nose was worth a boop or two. “Rebecca because as the youngest, she binds our family together, then Audrey from one of my favorite and classiest actresses of all time, Audrey Hepburn.”

When Dr. Kate got the necessary details, she excused herself with another round of congratulations to share. Now you are left with little Rebecca, you watched her as she abruptly woke up and whimpered because the noises from Dr. Kate woke up.

“Oh, no no. Please don’t cry.” Your whispers negotiated, which worked for a bit until she whimpered again. Rocking her back and forth didn’t work as you wanted, then a different approach came across your mind. Unbuttoning the first few buttons of your night gown that you changed to after the delivery, your free and swollen breast was in contact with the small lips of Rebecca, coming closer when she found the nipple. Thank goodness she suckled on it sweetly than roughly, but at least she was satisfying her hunger.

“Aren’t you a hungry one? Definitely like your mother over here.”

In fact, this simple moment bonded you closer to her, letting yourselves become transparent and vulnerable to each other. You being fatigued and her being new to the world. Side by side, the possibilities of future is endless, and you’ll make sure that you’ll bless her with a great one.

Meanwhile, Luke was tied down on his older daughter by the window, rocking her back in forth with the view of the night sky. Her tiny pupils opened a tiny bit, revealing an identical blue color to her father’s. They were doe-like, full of innocence and unaware of the big world she has joined.

“Would you look at that? We have matching blue eyes.”

Obviously, the newborn could do nothing but stare back at the adult who was in utter captivation by her, his lips parting. Luke trailed a finger on her soft rosy cheeks, which was met by a tight grip of tiny fingers around it. It made him more enamored towards her, and by instinct pecked her bare forehead. Those young eyes of hers which haven’t left his view shined even more from the bright night sky, emphasizing the ocean blues. Luke took a second to look away to glimpse that surreal lighting from the vast night space, finding numerous constellations aligning for everyone to watch.

“Wow, the night sky is just gorgeous, my dear. Come take a look.”

He shifted a bit to his right so his daughter’s view may lean towards the sky than his face momentarily. It worked, and she couldn’t look away up until her eyes were gradually closing. Back to sleep she was. Luke continued to rock her back and forth, humming a familiar tune to soothe her more.

“….I guess I was running from something, I was running back to you….”

“Mr. Luke Hemmings?” A young female voice disrupts his serenading, holding a clipboard with a pen. She was one of the nurses from a while ago based on her scrubs that still have some stains.

“That’s me. Yes?”

“Do you have a name for the little bean you’ve got bundled over there?” She perked up excitedly. Probably a fan from the past trying to hold in her emotions and still act professional. Luke wasn’t too transparent to not notice, but he could care less.

“Yes, I do.” Before he says his answer, he took another admirable look at that same night sky, eyeing on every constellation brightly shining and loving every one of them. It was like fate said that the birth of his daughters is a celebration for the night sky, so they must put on a great show. Having one of his twin daughters in his arms without any anxiety was a stellar scene, one he wishes that would last forever.

“Stella Charlotte Hemmings.” He proclaims with delight with a story as to why that was the chosen combination. “Stella because I know she’ll be shining like a star one day, and Charlotte from the band name of one of my great friends aka. shining legends, Good Charlotte.”

“That is a beautiful backstory.” She swooned as her right hand writes away the details. “You’ve always been very creative with your works, Mr. Hemmings.”

“Wow, witty of you. – And I prefer Luke, by the way.” He chuckled softly, trying not to wake little Stella up because he didn’t want to deal any crying before both of you arrived back home.

“Luke!” You’ve called out, envious of how much time he’s spending with your other child because you wouldn’t want her to think that favoritism is a thing as early as birth. Besides, as her mother, you craved physical contact with her. Luke ended his small talk with the nurse and came to your aid, sitting at the chair by your bedside with a little bundle sleeping serenely in his arms. It was worth a photo, but just moving another limb is tiring enough.

“What did you and that young nurse talk about?”

“Oh, she asked for our little bundle’s name and shared how she was a huge fan back in the day. Autographed her phone before she left.” He responds casually, his eyes kept reverting back to little Stella.

“I’m guessing that’s little Stella.” He nods, standing back up to trade her with the other twin, sleeping away too so she can spend time with you. Now with Rebecca in his arms, he was just as smitten and pecked her forehead too because he couldn’t resist.

“Aww, Rebecca has your nose.” He pointed out, cooing and poking her nose like you did earlier.

“That’s what I thought as well.” You giggled, your finger latched on the miniature hand of Stella.

This moment was too perfect, and nothing can beat it. Now, your wedding has been overthrown as the best milestones in your lives. Despite the pain, it was all worth it.

“Thank you for them, love. I’m sorry I contributed in the pain though.” Luke shyly apologizes, earning a feeble chuckle.

“Don’t be. After all, nothing in life comes easy.”

-

2034, Sydney

Last night’s dinner, kudos to Luke, was pretty exceptional. He was never the one to cook up a meal because back in the day, he almost burned down your old house! At this point, he suggested to hire a butler to serve you when your jobs get too hectic, when you had no more downtime or when you weren’t home when he was. This lead to hiring Mark, which became much less of a burden and a huge help when your pregnancy limited your actions at home.

Starting out as a mom was quite a struggle in the beginning, most especially when you were handling two children. There were time Luke was out working late, and you still had to email back some producers and other important people for your side projects during your maternity leave. When it was about to end, Eleanor actually came across the idea of hiring a nanny when she visited you with young Alex. It was because it would be much less distracting and inconvenient rather than bringing the girls to work. Foreshadowing, this nanny turned out to be Felicia, who was in her mid-twenties then. She was also an excellent chef, a definite plus!

-

Being at the Café Sweetener is something you want to back out because it felt like a mistake, but you knew it wasn’t. You agreed to it because it’s about time to let out some transparency. Even though you’re the victim, your mercy on him remained dominant.

Now seated across him in the café, there was killer silence because you both equally feared of saying the wrong things and set the wrong mood. Well, he brought this on you, but still. As much as possible, this must be handled mutually and figure out where both of you stand in this relationship. Or whether there will still be one after. Paps caught the both of you entering the café individually, assuming that it was a romantic date of sorts. But the pictures they’ve been trying to take, all they got were frowns and weren’t pleased, so they passed on the opportunity.

Both of you were situated on a private area of the café so no one inside could eavesdrop on your agenda, shyly ordering drinks and pastries before discussing everything. Once you received them, here’s where business is done and over with. He must have places to be, and you have a family back at Luke’s waiting for you to spend time with. So where exactly now do you stand?

“I thought you were over her.” You spilled out as you stirred your hot tea and looked at him straight in the eyes. Though his eyes couldn’t even look straight to you due to the shame. He hid his held back emotions for too long and afraid for what you have to say, and he should be. “But you aren’t, are you?”

 He felt the pain in your tone. You’ve gone through so much, and here you are facing heartbreak again. Inevitably, he came to his senses, dropping the façade he attempted to hold strongly. “I thought I was.”

“How so?” That truth hurt like a bitch, and you were trying to show in your face how deep it stung. You needed more reasons just to understand more. Although you wanted to just walk out and leave it be, you were much better than that. Ready to face this head on and no longer that naïve girl who’d run away from her problems, you followed up. “I would like to know more.”

 “What?” He was surprised, almost expecting that you would slap him in the public for all the roaring paparazzi outside desiring a new talk of the town, then storm out because he knew your dealing mechanism is too space away from everything. Besides, he deserved it.

 “Timmy, I’m done walking out and being fearful. Please tell me everything.” You’ve reconnected with your guidance counselor persona for him like in the past. Quite rusty, but you were all ears.

 “Honestly,” He started off, his elbows on the table to get a little closer but there was still a respect of boundaries. “I was bummed as fuck when you declined to attend the afterparty, but I knew you had your reasons with your family which I fully respect. It’s just that, it was something we planned beforehand, and without you, my experience would empty. I felt threatened by Luke too, why do you think I was harsh on him?”

 “What’s there to be threatened at? Luke and I are merely and only work as the parents of Rebecca and Stella, nothing more and less.”

 “Not by the way he looked at you in every picture and interview you did. Fuck, I saw both of you guys being touchy in the theater!” He counteracts, almost slamming her utensils on the table and startling you.

“Wow, can you blame that the film was a masterpiece?! Personal comfort serves a better job than tissues, and again, I’ve told you numerously he and I are trying to regain a strong family foundation so trust is needed for that?” You also weren’t having it as he tried to pin the fault on you for his actions, being the victim now.

“Fuck, now you’re defending him? I saw the way you grazed his fingers and laid your head on his shoulder, (Y/N). Being touchy is beyond the limits of personal, especially with an ex!”  

“Pretty hypocritical of you now huh, Timmy?” You shouted right at his face. This was just overwhelming, and with the way you were battling, neither can win. With a minute to regain energy, you continued on with slight bitterness. “What happened after being bummed out?”

 Timmy exhaled, dreading to tell but he wouldn’t feel fair. “Unexpectedly as I was about to ride the car set for the both of us, I accidentally bumped into Maika on the way. One glance of her, and somehow I felt an a unavoidable string pulling me closer to her so I invited her to the party just as a friend because we just wanted to regain that strong friendship. We sat somewhere private, ate a lot and drank a bit. Not even 2 drinks in, we just revealed everything out; all those pushed back emotions. I cried, and she did too. Drank a few more shots before she said I love you.”

“What did you say? And don’t bullshit it.” You just knew what he was going to say as he finally got the courage to look at you in the eye, but you wanted to hear it for more closure.

“That I loved her too.”

 Do not cry, (Y/N). Do not dare. “Did you m-mean it? – And don’t lie either.”

 “Fuck, I did, (Y/N).”

 Without you realizing, your mind was stimulating your eyes to release tears from heartbreak. You just could never be lucky with romance. To conclude his confession, “It only took one glance to change everything and made me rethink that although it didn’t work out the first time, time away gives you maturity and emotional growth, also time for self-love. Things happened so fast when we were working on Hot Summer Nights and ended the same way. That one simple and accidental glance of her and I felt everything again. Only this time, they were mostly sparks of my affection for her, no matter how hard I tried to deny it.”

 As painful as you felt, these life realizations he was stating really shows how much he’s learned and that he’s dealing it better than you. His pain and guilt were easily sensed by the way his eyes drooped so low that he couldn’t look you straight in the eye as he indirectly pleaded you to respond to this words. As much as this felt like a strong slap on the face, letting him go on with life where such a huge mistake like this will haunt him forever is worse than not saying anything in return, which leaves a mystery. To hold grudges is tempting, but it is also wrong.

 “He cheated, (Y/N). A big red flag.”

“He said that he no longer loved her, yet he betrayed the trust.”

 You were too consumed with your thoughts, not so sure how to approach it properly. As selfish as you want to be because cheating is wrong on all levels, another thought came through, but with a different intention. Something you never figured would be reasonable and still ethical.

 "A soulmate is not who makes you happiest, but who makes you feel the most."

 “She’s like your soulmate, huh?” By the way his voice was quivering yet stated it confidently, it was quite obvious that he was telling the truth. Yes, his actions were wrong because you were still together, but the heart wants what it wants. You are his friend first even if the trust has been tainted, though the road of closure here is maturity and acceptance. Yes as well, you were pained, but you cannot let him be pained too. You weren’t like that.

“Then go after her, Timmy.”

“Wait, what?” Timmy was already prepared for a raging outburst from you, so your recent words were uncalled for.

“Go after her, Timothee. Don’t make me say it again.” You said with dismay, concealing all the heartbreak by building more walls up your ego. “You might lose her forever if you don’t do and say anything.”

He was still in disbelief, wondering if you were messing with his mind and doing some sort of reverse psychology on him so he would stay. “(Y/N), ple-”

“Holding this against you is so tempting, Timothee. I questioned my worth because of it. Although it’s been only a few days since we’ve seen each other, I’ve come to accept that grudges are unhealthy for me. I’ve experienced all sorts of unhappiness these past years, and now I will no longer stand for it.” You tilted his chin up with your index finger so you would get a better view, caging all those pre-destined tears and praying for calmness of nerves. Timmy sucked up and captured in the view of you, heavily breathing for the tension. “If only one person between us should get their happy ending, it should be you.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N). Are you that oblivious?” Timmy grew capable to talk again, letting his instincts do the talking.

“Oblivious to what?” You peaked an interest with his question. He blinked twice, gathering his thoughts so that what he was bound to say wouldn’t come out wrong. He already messed up the first time, so he’s pressured that he shouldn’t make more faults.

“(Y/N), Luke is still so obviously and madly in love with you.”

A cat got your tongue and doesn’t intend on giving it back. Were you hoping it was true? You weren’t sure, but one thing was, and it was that he’d stop talking about it. “You have no proof, Timothee. Now please don’t make this harder for the both of us.” You rejected his allegation, praying that the attention doesn’t get to you. But you jinxed it, because Timmy didn’t stop from there.

“He looked so happy when you were taking photos in the red carpet, and those looks he gave at you? Fuck, those were the same lovingly looks he gave when you were still married. I’m not that stupid, you know.” He was very specific with his observations, and it created dead air between the both of you. Though his stare at you was raising in intensity, he was positive that he will get you to admit the actual truth because he was confident enough that you were hiding it.

But were you really hiding anything to begin with? Have your feelings towards Luke really dead? Was it really all strictly parental? Sure, he comforted you in stressful times, but was it only friendly? With this, it leads to the main question is: do you still love him? You were stressfully contemplating on all these resurfaced questions, dreading how much effort will be drained from your brain.

“I’m sure he isn’t in love with me anymore, Timothee. In fact, he’s getting married soon, and I’ve already let him go years ago because I’m just too toxic for him, and vice versa.”

Timothee was still unfazed, disagreeing with your actions. “(Y/N), you’re letting him go because you love him and want him to be happy, even Sierra is awful. How can you not see that? Also, why are you allowing him to get off with that woman?” Timmy was testing your boundaries, almost turning the situation 360 degrees, wherein you were now in question and not him. Because he’s admitted his actual feelings, he really wanted you to keep in touch with yours.

“Look, I don’t want to interfere with Luke’s personal life, Timmy. That isn’t something I would even do! One thing is for sure and it is that he deserves happiness, even if I’m no longer in the equation.”

“But I believe that you’re his true happiness, (Y/N). Sierra could never match up to you.” He insists, making your thoughts and emotions grow wild. You thought you could’ve hidden them so much more, but your mind and heart are malfunctioning due to all those recent late night signs and contemplations that are getting you to realize that they aren’t a coincidence.

Bringing Stella to Camp Wonder? There was hesitation on your behalf, but your mother asserted you to push through with it so it can teach Stella new things and make her more independent. She would’ve never met Rebecca if you let her stay with you. With Rebecca, she was living with her father.

Going to the VMAs? It was a comeback after all those years, and it made people happy. Not having done it would never let you unexpectedly encounter Luke and catch you off guard before your daughters formally did. That was a sign of awe, getting your heart racing already, but you had to shut it down first.

Looking through old things in the “Luke” box while wearing his musky sweater without hesitation after he brought you home from Delilah’s? If you didn’t do it, you would have never reminisced those happy days and open up to Luke because back then, he did make you the happiest girl alive.

Inviting him to your film premiere? It was the first time in a decade that you and he were spotted together. If you didn’t invite him, you would be a nervous wreck stuttering in every question in the interviews and an emotional one too if he didn’t sit beside you and exchanged minimal touches to calm your system.

Meeting that cab driver? He made you rethink everything and really evaluate your life with him. If he didn’t interfere, you wouldn’t have connected with your heart before you slept with your mascara-tainted face, wherein your laziness caved in.

Quite frankly, there happens to be a link with these instances, but there was one more that confirmed everything you’ve tried to deny: last night before dinner. You’ve kept a close eye on every bodily and facial feature of him and knowing its emotional equivalence when you and he talked about your days. In fact, you had racing thoughts that kept directing to the unholy side numerously and didn’t put too much effort in redirecting them back to the platonic zone. You chose to think that way because you couldn’t help yourself. Shamelessly enough, it was like you were still wrapped around his finger and never really let go. Only loosened.

And so whether or not you still love him, he was getting married already to a woman whom you’ve despised. In risking that he knows that you both hate each other, you kept your mouth shut. If this was another chance at happiness, let him be. There may be something in Sierra that he actually accepts and appreciates that you couldn’t see through, so he needs to take it.

“God, you need to rethink this through, (Y/N). All the signs are there, laid out in front of you.”

“But I already ha-”

“You’re letting a great man to marry an evil woman. It wouldn’t just be him at fault, but your daughters as well.” Timmy said monotonously as he took that last gulp of his coffee, closing his eyes as a mechanism to further enjoy its bittersweet taste because all he’s received are bitter vibes. He treasured that small percentage of the sweet, alarmed that from here on until God knows when, he would live with that mistake of betraying you.

“I need space from you, Timmy.” You’ve looked intently at him as the pressure in your system boiled up, wanting to process everything once more solo. He was correct without a doubt with what you’re doing, but he still fucked up more than you.

“I understand, (Y/N).” He got up from his seat and left the napkin from his lap on the table. Taking slow steps away, he stopped by your shoulder and put a hand on it. “I may have messed up, and I’m fucking sorry that I did what I did. But remember that you deserve happiness. I can’t force you to love him again, but at least you must do the right thing. – Goodbye for now, (Y/N).”

“Goodbye, Timmy.” He kissed the top of your head as he slowly distances away from you. You could’ve already turned into a crying mess because that has been so common these past days with everything that’s resurfacing and occurring, but no. Not this time.

“Do the right thing, (Y/N).”

And damn right, you will.    

-

“Good night, girls.” Luke waves at the two, who’ve reached the top of the stairs already.

“Night, dad. Night, mom.” They said in sync before going inside Rebecca’s room, which was quite a mess since Stella hasn’t properly organized her belongings meant for her luggage. She had shirts on Beck’s bed, some sneakers under it, and even her dress from the premiere was crumpled on the mini rolling chair by Beck’s study desk.

As much as she didn’t want to pack yet, she had to, or else you would leave her behind. Although it was a good idea since she knew how to travel alone, it would be fair to you. Either way, the situation of leaving (or staying) was a lose-lose situation. She already risked so much just days ago for and with her father, and she couldn’t allow herself to get in a rough state ever again with you, who was just as broken as he is. What a heart-warming thing that she really has all this love her despite that consented lack of paternal influence for a decade, even if she had no idea about the breakup. With or without knowing, she kept an eye on you always just like you. Like mother, like daughter.

Rebecca laid back on her headboard, lowly viewing the slowness and feeling the emotional heaviness of her twin sister’s movement to load her luggage. She was just as disheartened that Stella was leaving when everything is about to get better with the family, and it worries that she didn’t have a clue when she’d see her again personally. Sure, video calls exist, but with the wide time difference? It’s too much of a sacrifice for one of them to be awake late night, while it’s day time for the other since school was about to start for them individually. They respect each other so much that they wouldn’t want to disrupt their rest and health. Regardless, she is thankful. Thankful they had time to achieve a huge chunk of their initial plan.

Throughout it, they matured so flawlessly from the different experiences that profoundly influenced their mindsets since now, it will be very important because they are almost reaching their teenage years. Also, the wise words they have received from the new people they’ve met and those whom they knew their entire lives. The main learning experience they took home for them to really cherish in the long term was that though you dream so big it hurts because you really want it to come true, you should still take things slowly because hard work and growing isn’t overnight.

A proper application of that would be their parents’ past romance.

To recap, their main mission was to set you two up again in hopes you’ll fall in love again, get married and receive the dream happy ending of having a complete family. But in time, they processed the logic that forcing that kind of commitment and rushing it all in the limited time they were given only would worsen things and crumble down. Luke indirectly revealed from the Sierra incident that he and you broke things off because there was a lack of trust and based on previous calculations from the day you met up to the day you married, it was all happening so fast. It was almost like back then, the honeymoon stage lasted for too long that when it was over, neither of you could handle the pressure.

With that in their knowledge, no same mistakes should be done twice. Surely, it gutted them harshly to accept this, but in order for this to work, it’s about time to take things slowly. Learn and relearn from each other and not to expect too. No longer was the endgame for the both of you to fall back into love, but to grow and strengthen the family for all the missed time.

“Earth to Becks. Becks to Earth.” Rebecca was removed from her thinking realm when she overheard her twin calling out her name numerously. How long has she been in her trance? 

 “Shit, sorry. What were you saying, Stella?” She trained her mind to focus on her twin, no more dozing off like usually what she does in her math classes. 

“Well, I was saying that everything was too fast and too soon. Shucks, now the family is mending back to pieces, I’m leaving you and dad again.” She wept, the separation anxiety already kicking in her system. As much as she loved you, she disliked that your job is interfering with all these family plans, all before it was time to go home and get back to school. Times will get busier, and the future is unpredictable. What if cutting ties again will occur? 

It’s a good thing she isn’t alone on this fear. “I’m on the same page too, Stella. It’s too soon yeah. But hey, at least we had some memories for keeps, right?” Rebecca attempts to remain optimistic, anxious for the unknown. Then out of the blue, her phone vibrated against her pocket, which is a signal that she got a message. As she yanked it out, it was none other than Darcy Styles. She couldn’t hold back her smile and quiet giggling when she slid on the notification, unlocking her phone.

[10:36 PM] Darcy Styles: Hey love! How was your day?

 Ever since Darcy and Becks switched numbers at the movie premiere, they’ve been talking non-stop about anything, like food, TV shows, animals, the possibilities are endless! Phone calls were rare because they live on opposite sides, and there hasn’t been any down time, so texting was easily accessible.

 [10:37 PM] Becks Hemmings: Pretty fun! Went around Sydney with the fam! How about you?

 Yet only recently, they’ve grown even closer when Becks let herself vulnerable to her through messages when she was on the way home from the beach house post-Sierra, when the deadliest silence was driving her nuts mentally. If you think that the Sierra issue was only between your and the bands’ families, you thought wrong. Issues like that can really affect how you think, and at her young age, she needed more support. And seeking that from Darcy even she wasn’t physically there to comfort her was really helpful.

 Darcy is different from all her old and new friends, like she really understood the struggles and open in giving proper advice. Becks is not one to let her guard down easily, but with Darcy, she felt secured. It’s too soon to say, but with their continuous conversation, Becks finds herself questioning more, and it hasn’t been the first time.

 “Ooh who texted?” Stella cooed, zipping up her final luggage with a hint of trouble because there were too much items tightened inside. Back and forth with the zipper so it wouldn’t break, she got to close it eventually and jumped to the bed, where her twin still hasn’t answered her question. Even though she knew who it was, she wanted to hear it for herself.

 “Jane, from camp. Remember her?” Becks lied, keeping her phone out from Stella’s lingering eyes. But Stella was quicker than her to glimpse at their recent messages, squealing, “Yeah right!! Totally not one of my best friends, that’s for sure.”

 Rebecca got flustered, not used to having anyone to talk to about these growing feelings that she has never experienced. Freaked out was an understatement too because these kinds of feelings towards someone who is the same sex as her was still not okay in society, and she didn’t want anyone to change their view on her. Most especially her family.

“Hey, you okay? You look zonked.” Stella snapped her fingers at her, halting her racing thoughts. 

 “Oh y-yeah. Feeling perfect.” Another lie leaves Rebecca, only this time, Stella knew she wasn’t being honest, and that breaks an aspect of their sisterly pact. This cannot be.

 “Hey.” Stella starts off, obviously seeing her sister’s fright. She felt nervous too. “You know you can tell me anything? We are family after all.” 

 Rebecca was ashamed to have said those lies as she recalled of their pact, but they were her shield. Though the world has progressed so much these past decades, sadly there was still a slight stigma, and she heavily reflected on that. She’s seen clips online and on the television about kids like her who were disowned and even murdered because of how they identify themselves. Also, she felt as if she was invalid because she couldn’t just choose one to fully like without others having to say that “there’s no middle ground! just choose one.”

 “Rebecca? - Look, I’m not pressuring you to share me what you’re feeling, okay?”

 She was called again by Stella, who stated a disclaimer, although she really wanted to understand what her twin was feeling. Rebecca trusted Stella enough to know that she has no prejudice in her heart, but she was still hesitant. Regardless, she needs to be an honest girl. She took a deep breath, praying to the heavens for the best. “You do remember Jane, right?”

“Oh yes, Jane. She “accidentally” spilled orange juice on me that one time when we were still enemies in camp during lunch time.” Stella gestured, reminiscing such an embarrassing moment. “I’m sorry, but she was kind of a little shit.” 

 Rebecca chuckled. “None taken.” 

 “What about her though?” Stella continued on, wanting to know the main point of Rebecca bringing her up. 

 This is where Rebecca had her nerves all over the place, trying to calm them down so she could speak more sanely and properly. She managed to get this far, so might as well open up more so she could more truthful to Stella, and most importantly, herself. It was a good first step, and Stella was all ears. 

 “Well, one late night in my cabin with her and Hannah way before you and I met, we were playing truth and dare. I chose truth, and Hannah asked if I’ve ever kissed a boy.”

 “And then?”

 “I said yes, with some boy in my Math class way before camp. His name was Noah, and he was pretty cute. Anyways, not the point. When I was done, Hannah asked Jane the same question, where Jane said dare. This is where things for me got more mind-blowing.”

 “What happened, Becks? You’re scaring me.” Stella says with unease. 

 Rebecca prepared herself for the worse, and admitted, “Hannah dared her to kiss me. And when we did, she cringed and ran away because she was embarrassed. It’s like I’m supposed to feel the same as her and shake off the cringe, but I didn’t. I actually enjoyed it.” 

 Stella struggled to comprehend at first, asking “So wait, you liked the kiss from Jane in the same way you kissed Noah?” 

 Rebecca nodded, her voice growing shaky as she added, “To be honest with you, this hasn’t been the first time I’ve liked boys and girls in the same way. - I used to have a big crush on Nick when we were in preschool because he always gave me flowers, and Alex teased me about it a lot. It died when he began giving flowers to someone else, no hard feelings alongside. Although when I was around 7, I became attracted to Scarlett, who was around 9. She is a great singer, and really pretty, having brown curly hair with green eyes that caught me off guard. She was my first girl crush, until she called me a “little sister from another mister.” Indirectly, I was friendzoned, but I’m glad that it made me realize more things about myself.” 

 “Which was? Summarize everything, poppet.” Stella was still puzzled, but not as much as earlier. Rebecca was right, noticing that she had no judgmental faces to give and open to listen to her. She felt safe.

 “I’ve accepted that I like boys and girls in the same romantic way. – Stella, I’m bi.” She came out, yet hid herself under a blanket like before with you, when she revealed her real self. This moment coincidentally mirrored that. This was a huge step for Rebecca in accepting a part of her identity, and she’s relieved to have done it.  Still, she braced herself with her twin has to say about it. “Say something please.”

Stella was pretty stunned at first because she would’ve never figured Rebecca felt this way. However, it was not the first time to experience and meet someone who was not straight; an example already is Gina. This has already opened her mind about the various kinds of diversities in our world and increased her interest in learning these new things. She could never see herself as someone with ignorance because those types of things cannot be chosen, they just come along. And the best way to go is to accept, learn more and love equally. “Uncover yourself first, Becks.” 

Stubborn at first, Rebecca came to her senses and followed the older twin, removing the thick white duvet from her face. She sat upright, her eyes were still viewing downwards to her sweaty palms. Stella sees right through her emotions, and clasps her hands on the sides of Rebecca’s hands, trapping them. Rebecca was surprised, making her look upwards to her sister, with a sensible grin. “What made you so afraid to tell me, poppet?” 

She didn’t expect such an inviting tone, fearing that it could be a façade in order to make her feel better. But she had a gut feeling that Stella wouldn’t lie like she minimally did, it would worsen their sisterly pact. 

“I was scared that you would look at me differently, like I’ve seen films and videos of people who came out and aren’t accepted. I just got you and mom back, and I didn’t want to lose you again.” Rebecca shed a single tear, successfully trying her best to refrain from producing another. Stella caught it, wiping it away from her face. 

“You will never lose me and mom, alright? Don’t even think of that!” She reassured. Rebecca was thankful to be accepted for who she is really is, wherein no more hiding secrets between her twin. Though, there is still you and Luke to tell.

“Does dad know?” Stella added. Rebecca shook her head left and right, her thoughts redirecting now to him. Will he still love her in the same, fatherly way? 

“Ooh, I see. But no rush, okay? - There is no need to feel ashamed, Rebecca. It’s part of who you are! We live in a time where topics like this aren’t as taboo as they used to be way back based on what school taught me, so you must embrace that, and if others don’t like it, then screw ‘em! Easier said than done, but this is a start. So thank you for trusting me, I fully accept and love you and nothing will ever change that.” Stella elaborated positively, then willingly offers a hug to Rebecca, who takes it. This made her heart grow 10 times bigger because she was understood properly. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Rebecca mumbled under her breath, but loud enough for Stella to hear. As they part from their intimate gesture with warm hearts, Stella brought up a previous question back. “So, who actually texted you a while ago?” 

“Darcy.” Rebecca comfortably answered. “We’ve been talking since the premiere, though it’s all friendly.” 

“Yeah right! Do you think I don’t see your eyes and smile beam up when she texts? You’re into her, 100 percent!”

“Am not! I may like girls, but I can still be friends with them! And hey, do you think I don’t see how much you gush around Alex recently?” Rebecca retaliated proudly, finally getting to ask that especially after she’s sneakily watched them from afar at the campfire. “You know, I saw you guys get cozy back at the beach house, specifically at the camp fire.” 

“That was nothing really. We were just getting to know each other more since most of you guys left to either pee or get sodas when we weren’t up for them!” Stella defended herself with the truth. Or so she thought it was as of now. Girls can be just friends with guys, anyways.

“O-kay, whatever you say, bub.” Rebecca surrendered her arguing even though she had more receipts towards her sister and best friends getting very close. Majority of people would be disgusted if they found that their sibling is dating their best friend, but not with Stella. She’s already thinking in advance, and she’s pretty cool with it if something happens. But if any of them mess up or fool around, then damn prepare yourself. 

“Let’s not think too ahead of ourselves okay? Let’s just focus on now please. – Okay, wait. I just realized something.” Stella adds on.

“What is it?”

Cue maturity development.

“Pretty tough to say, but I’m happy that there’s no more bad blood between mom and dad. Like although it’s a bonus, it doesn’t matter to me anymore if they don’t fall in love again like we wanted, but just to have this time together was much better.”

“I actually agree. We should never force them to do that because falling in love again isn’t easy, and since mom is with uncle Timmy, we should respect that. As long as the family is reunited happily and I get to see you and mom more, then I’m happy too.” They hugged once more to seal their sisterly love, before Rebecca brings up a less serious topic and gets a hold of her laptop from her study desk before lying back down. 

“So, remember we asked how mom and dad met? It was through one of dad’s music videos, Valentine?”

“Yup, what about it?”

“Wanna take a look at it then? It’s just in Youtube anyways.” 

“Omg yes, type away!” Stella cheered, watching her sister type the words and clicking on the first video that came up, with Luke and you on the thumbnail. As they listen to the song and view the video attentively, they adored at how little you’ve facially and physically aged.

“Wow, they look amazing.” 

“Woah, mom’s kissing everyone here.”

Those were some of the many comments they gave, jamming along to the familiar song they’ve overheard playing when they were still apart. How music is truly strong in connecting people. Afterwards, Stella suggested Netflix on Rebecca’s widescreen television, which was fulfilled because the latter wanted to watch as well. As they scrolled through numerous categories of films, they settled on old family movies, ranging mostly from Disney. Nothing has yet caught their eye since they’ve watched numerous times, until they landed on unfamiliar film, of which once they’ve read a synopsis, they were hooked. 

“Hmm, the Parent Trap. Looks promising.” Stella plays the mini trailer of the film, intrigued.

“When two girls who seem to be polar opposites meet at summer camp, they think they have nothing in common -- only to discover they're identical twins.” Rebecca reread, crinkling her eyes in realization. “Could relate to us, huh?”

“Probably? But we won’t find out ‘til we play the movie? Come on now!” Stella infers, impatient for her sister to press the play button. 

“Jeez, chill! Pressing play.”

-

“(Y/N), wait!” Luke chases after you after you ran away in shock. You were in disbelief, lacking oxygen in your lungs at the bomb Luke has just dropped. Nothing could stop your pace as you dangerously leaped the slippery steps. Blasting open the door of the guest room, you loudly locked it shut before jumping on the bed with your raging emotions. Screaming against your pillow, a waterfall of tears were released. Only this time, it was the peak of your pain. You hiccuped more than usual and screamed until your throat became dry.

Not so long later, soft knocks crept in when you removed the pillow on top of your head. “(Y/N), please let’s talk.”

“Leave me alone.” You shouted back, too hurt to face him and full of anger in your heart. 

“Please open the door. I’m begging you.” Luke knelt against the door, pleading to explain.

“Just go away, Luke.”