#than i’ve ever learnt in school

[elmoshipsbyler]

not to say that i was media illiterate before, but getting invested in byler, and joining the ST tumblr fandom, has taught me so much about media analysis in such a short amount of time

like the fact that tumblr is the perfect platform for sharing thoughts, and the fact that when we theorize together it’s basically just one big brainstorm

all of that has taught me 1. how to notice/pay more attention to details, 2. how to analyze those details, and 3. how to develop, formulate, and present an argument

i’ve learnt so much from the coolest people, all while laughing at memes and having fun

stranger things fans are so amazing and you’re all so smart and sexy and cool

[hanggarae]

GROWL - ARE YOU ATTRACTED TO ME TOO ?

↺ content your ceo has made a point of making your life a living hell and you aren’t sure how long you can keep up with it, part 2 of my ‘promotion’ series, ceo!jeonghan, f!office worker!reader, jeonghan’s such an asshole in this part even worse than in part one, jeonghan is so dumb and clueless, bffs bss, this is honestly hardly a tear jerker so idk if it’s technically angst but ig ?? idk 😞

↺ a/n : 3.5k words, npr, another enemies to lovers jeonghan, loosely based off of lyrics from growl by exo but also lowk not ?? im trying to finish this series as quick as i can bc i know that when i start studying ill go back to the irregular posting schedule and this will never see the light outside my drafts (like the chan thoughts part which i had ready for months but never got around to posting)

‘He’d get bored of trying to get a rise out of you in a month or less so all you had to do was put up with him until then’

Life was a bitch, a petty bitch- and so was Jeonghan.

It’d been four months since you became his assistant, or as you like to call it: four months of hell. He didn’t go easy on you one bit and constantly belittled you.

Ever since you left that night without him knowing he made it his personal goal to continue punishing you for it by constantly gave you tasks were no less than humiliating. You underestimated just how petty a grown man could be. Despite him clearly finding this job boring, he stayed due to the laugh he got out of making you suffer. What’s worse is you couldn’t deny the fact that he was too pretty for his own good.

“Here is your schedule for the day, sir” you forced a smile on your face, handing your boss his coffee brewed exactly how he enjoys it (you learnt that the hard way when Jeonghan once took the cup out of your hands and poured it all over your desk and paperwork, ridiculing you for ‘not being useful enough to even make a decent coffee’).

Jeonghan simply stared at you, bringing the cup to his lips and taking an obnoxiously loud sip. “Reschedule the meeting with Hong, I don’t want to have it today” he mumbled, bored of the day already.

You tried your best to compose yourself and not throw that coffee in his face while you scream about how he’s an incompetent brat that needs to actually get some work done. But you couldn’t do that so you settled with the satisfaction of imagining the scene in your head.

“Unfortunately sir, that isn’t possible. You’ve already rescheduled three times, and Joshua’s been-”

Jeonghan seemed to perk up at that, “oh the meetings with Shua? Why didn’t you say that silly? you can bring him in right now”

“I’ve told you it’s with him four times but alright-”

“No back talk or I’ll demote you to coffee maker”

You bit back the words on the tip of your tongue and instead started to walk over to the reception where Joshua was waiting.

You remember Joshua. He was still Jeonghan’s friend even back in high school, although he never picked on you like Jeonghan did. From what you remember, Joshua wasn’t really interested in proving himself when it came to academics.

“Mr Yoon will see you now” you told him politely, holding the door open for him to follow you.

“About time” he laughed with no real offence, “he really took his time, huh?”

You simply returned his laugh and agreed with him wordlessly, leading him to Jeonghan’s office. The man in question gave his longtime friend a loud greeting.

“Shua I had no idea the meeting was with you” the long haired man scoffed, “my assistant over here told me it was with your uncle”

“If that’s what you thought I don’t blame you for postponing it as much as you did” Joshua laughed easily, dispersing your anger toward your boss.

The two continued to talk for another hour or so while you drowned out the noise and focused on the task Jeonghan had given you. Times like these really tempted you to quit because what sort of maniac gives you one day to finish organising a dinner with some business partners.

When Joshua was ready to leave you followed him out and waved him goodbye before mentally preparing yourself for your boss giving you his very much unwanted undivided attention.

“y/n, you don’t have anything planned for next week do you?” your boss stated more than asked while looking through his own planner. “Any personal plans outside of work?”

His attitude irked you so much.

“Well I have a dinner with my friends for-”

“Cancel it.” Jeonghan stated plainly.

You blinked a few times, laughing awkwardly. There’s no way he was being serious right?

“I’m sorry sir?”

“You heard me. Cancel it” he approached you even closer. “And pack your bags, we’re going on a business trip tomorrow night”

Your mouth opened, anger painting your features but Jeonghan left before you could argue.

This wasn’t fair. Next week was your birthday, your friends insisted on planning a dinner for you and you were honestly really looking forward to it. Knowing Jeonghan though that didn’t mean anything to him, he’d probably laugh at you for even thinking that gave you an excuse.

Luckily, you might still make it in time for your birthday dinner. Jeonghan explained the details of the trip to you and your plane was on Thursday night, meaning you’d get back on Friday at around 6am. The dinner was planned for Friday night so if you could power through the jet lag and sleep deprivation you’d enjoy that dinner with your friends.

If you were being honest you weren’t entirely sure what you were doing on this trip. Other than ordering his room service there really wasn’t any use in your being there. Eventually you came to the conclusion that Jeonghan dragged you along in favour of just making you suffer.

For some odd reason though, Jeonghan liked to drag you along to whatever parties and dinner his aristocratic friend group enjoyed throwing.

And although it was a pretty sight, you could only really just feel out of place being there.

Like tonight, the venue was absolutely gorgeous but you didn’t belong here. Not with people that had six digits in their savings from the moments they learnt to talk.

To your surprise however, Jeonghan was uncharacteristically tame. After the way he’s treated you the last few months it was safe to assume that he would go out of his way to embarrass you any chance he got at these dinners but he was surprisingly helping you adjust well.

Tonight was your last night in Paris and the two of you were attending a dinner hosted by his associate. Wonwoo was nice, he was down to earth despite probably having more money than everyone in your branch combined.

What wasn’t nice was the way Jeonghan was stalling getting out of here. Did he want you guys to miss the plane?

“We need to head to the airport now if we’re planning on catching that plane?” You urged, trying to reason with your boss while everyone around you was distracted.

“Wouldn’t that be rude of us?” Jeonghan scoffed before smirking, “did nobody ever teach you any manners, y/n?”

No matter how much you urged Jeonghan, he wouldn’t budge. You thought it was pretty much useless at this point, debating on whether or not you should text your friends to reschedule the dinner or just let them enjoy it without you.

As you watched the flight updates on your phone and saw the signal that your flight had already left, you felt tears well up in your eyes. You were so tired of this. How many tears were you going to lose on this? On him? He didn’t even matter to you.

And you weren’t sure why you mattered to him. Just because he’s too petty to forget about something that happened in high school?

The entire drive back to the hotel, you kept refreshing the tab to see if there were any other flights but it was no use. The only ones available would make you arrive too late for the dinner so there was no way you were making it on time.

It seemed silly, being this upset about a dinner. But you hadn’t gotten the chance to properly celebrate your birthday, or anything really, in years and it felt nice for your friends to plan an entire night just dedicated to you. And you probably felt worse about all of their efforts going to waste.

When you made it back to the hotel you didn’t say a word to Jeonghan. You didn’t curse at him, you didn’t scream at him, you didn’t defend yourself from his comments.

You just.. headed back to your room and texted your friends that you were sorry.

You stayed in your room for another twenty minutes, thinking about what Jeonghan’s motive was. There was no way you could continue working with him.

A notification on your phone drew your attention. An email from some cosmetics brand wishing you a happy birthday and giving you a coupon code to celebrate.

It was only then that you realised it was now just a few minutes after midnight meaning it was officially your birthday.

Even though you should be happy, only more tears fell.

You don’t know how long you just sat on the bed, wallowing in your own self pity before somebody knocked at the door.

You quickly dried your tears before pulling it open, gasping at the sight in front of it.

Jeonghan stood there, a huge smile on his face, holding a cake that read ‘Happy birthday’ in green frosting. You hated green.

“Happy birthday y/n” he greeted loudly. There was something so sick and twisted about this. Maybe even sadistic.

Before you knew it you were tearing up again. Was this some sort of sick joke? He ruins the only plans you’ve had, the only time you’ve asked something of him these past months as his assistant, the only time you asked him to cut you some slack and he’s.. standing there smiling with a cake that has frosting of a color you hate.

“Sir, when we get back tomorrow- or whenever we do, you need to find a new assistant because I can no longer do this” you told him plainly, too tired of the way he’s treated you.

You ignored the way his face fell and eyes widened, “If I can’t return to my old position then I’d like to be transferred to a different branch. And if that’s also not possible then I resign from the company”

You didn’t wait for his answer, you didn’t wait for him to laugh and call you pathetic for quitting halfway through, you just closed the door and went to bed.

Jeonghan didn’t fly on the same flight as you, probably staying in Paris for an extra few days but you honestly weren’t sure. And you honestly didn’t care.

Despite saying you’d try staying at the company, you realised you wouldn’t be able to without feeling uncomfortable. And Jeonghan was in a position where he could still make your life hell so you simply resigned altogether.

You were a valued employee and were smart in keeping connections with big companies you’ve worked with on projects in the past, and even the few you met in your week in Paris. So you really weren’t worried about finding a new job, maybe it’d even be better than your last one.

It’d been three months since you quit working at the Yoon company and although it was nothing special at your new job it beat having an asshole boss setting you up for failure everyday.

It’d honestly be a lie to say you haven’t thought about Jeonghan since quitting. Partially because you now worked under Choi Seungcheol, who you learnt was one of Jeonghan’s best friends. Meaning you’d sometimes run into him but you never spared him a second glance.

Ever since you got the new job you decided to do some things that you’ve been meaning to but never got around to- one of them being to get a new apartment.

You’ve been living in your current one since just after you graduated college and you could definitely afford to now upgrade it. The place you’ve been looking at was in a far better neighbourhood and building.

You decided to pull the trigger on it sooner rather than later, knowing that the longer you put it off the more likely you were to just discard the idea in the end.

You hated making second trips to carry luggage, so you decided to carry all of your moving boxes in one go, despite the fact that all of them piled in your arms blocked practically your entire line of vision.

Just as you were getting off the elevator you heard the person getting on chuckle lightly at the sight in front of them.

“You need any help with that?” The voice sounded oddly familiar you thought as he started to grab most of the boxes from your arms before you could protest.

Oh is he serious?

You looked unimpressed at the man in front of you, “Give me my boxes back.”

“What-” he hadn’t noticed you until you said that. Glaring at him, clearly unhappy with seeing him again.

Jeonghan simply scoffed, not giving you the boxes back and only asking you what number he needed to take them to.

“You can take them back to my arms” you bickered despite leading him to your apartment anyway.

“Don’t think Cheol’s gonna like how you can’t type for two weeks because you broke your arms while moving” he argued back, doing a double take when he saw the number outside of your door. Giggling when he realised.

Before you could ask him what was going on he giggled, “And, it wouldn’t make me a very good neighbour, would it?”

He smiled before using his own keys to open the door of the apartment right across from yours. This cannot be real.

“You live here?” You whined, not caring if it made you look childish in front of him anymore.

“Mhm” he hummed coming back to you to help you get all the boxes inside, “Let me know if you need help with anything else, neighbour”

“So he lives literally down the hall?” Soonyoung asked you, taken aback. “Small world”

“I’m still convinced he had something to do with it” you grasped your soda can tighter, the metal denting under the pressure.

“You think he’ll be there right now?” Seokmin asked, taking another handful of popcorn.

“Why? Do you want him to give us some michelin star food or something?” Seungkwan asked, continuing to look through the selection of movies for you guys to watch.

“If he does don’t eat it! He probably poisoned it or something” you muttered bitterly.

It was just your luck for the person you despised most to just happen to now live three steps away from you.

It’d only been a week since you moved here but you’d already ran into him five times. Five times too many in your opinion. You were ready to complain about him all over again until the doorbell rang.

“What do you want?” You said crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well it seemed like such a fun party over here. How could I miss out, am I right?” You realised really was the most arrogant man you’ve ever met when he invited himself in and made himself comfortable on your couch. “What’re we watching?”

You also realised your friends were not loyal. Despite cursing him out with you for the last few months they were too quick to become friends with him- even if it was because of the alcohol you really did not care.

It was approaching 3am and you couldn’t sleep, the guys all getting too drunk and crashing on your couch in the other room.

After tossing and turning a few more times you crawled out of your bed and into the building’s hallway, careful to tread lightly to not wake anyone up even Jeonghan.

Ever since your landlord gave you the keys to your apartment and access to the building’s rooftop you think you’ve been here everyday since.

The cool breeze always hit you just perfectly, momentarily letting you forget about everything in the world.

It really wasn’t fair. How Jeonghan treated you. You laugh to yourself when you realise you hold the same thoughts as your high school self, upset that her crush all of a sudden started to insult her for being top of the class.

You’d like to say that you don’t care about what Jeonghan thinks about you, but you know you’d be lying to yourself. That inner teenager of yours that still wants Jeonghan to like her back.

You don’t think you like Jeonghan anymore- but you also don’t think you hate him. And when you realise you don’t hate him after the way he’s treated you, you think you must like him at least a little to forget about that.

“Stop biting your nails” a voice from beside you says.

You don’t recognise it at first and instantly lunge at whatever it is, thinking it was a crazed psycho killer or something.

“Okay I get I wasn’t a saint to you but you didn’t have to hit me in the face y/n what the fuck?” The man groaned.

“Well maybe you should stop sneaking up on me Yoon” you forced out despite feeling a little guilty.

“Well I wouldn’t have to sneak up on you if you acted like a normal person and didn’t leave your apartment at 3am!” He scoffed, flicking your forehead with his finger lightly.

You glared at him before turning back to look at the view over the city.

“We’re not friends, I’d appreciate if you stopped acting like we were”

“We’re not friends? And here I was buying us matching cups” fake pouted, the same way he would when you worked for him and complained about the workload.

The more you remembered how it was like having Yoon Jeonghan as your boss the less you wanted to even be near him.

“You’re not funny, Yoon” you mumbled. Not like he cared.

“You’re not my employee anymore, y/n. I don’t care if you call me by my name now” Jeonghan looked at you.

You think you got even angrier when you looked back at him. Pretty privilege was real and Yoon Jeonghan probably benefited from it the most. Even at 3am and drinking for hours he’s still beautiful enough for you to forget how awful of a person he is.

“Even so, I’m nobody compared to you and I’m nobody to you,” you laughed bitterly, “So I’d prefer to not call you by your first name. Just like you requested”

“You really hold a grudge, don't you?”

“Fuck you Jeonghan” you looked at him baffled, “I hold a grudge? You tormented me for months because of some stupid thing that happened in high school that wasn’t even my fault”

“And even now you’re-” you sputtered, “you’re still trying to blame me. I didn’t do anything to you Jeonghan! You’re the asshole that did everything to me!”

You expected Jeonghan to get mad at your rant and say something back, instead he just stared at, ghost of a smile on his lips and some unreadable glint in his eyes. “You said my name”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. He really could not take anything serious. “What is wrong with you?”

“I’ve been asking myself that too” he got closer to you, “you know ever since you left I’ve strangely been really sad in the office. Moping around looking for something- or someone”

“After a while I realised that was you. I missed you, y/n. And then I realised I like-”

“This has to be the worst confession I have ever heard of, Jeonghan” you looked at him surprised at how he could even begin to think this was what a good confession sounded like. “If anything this just makes me think you’re a sadist who enjoys making the girl they like cry everyday in the office bathrooms”

“Cut me some slack, I only worked this out two weeks ago” Jeonghan whined, and you really had to question if he genuinely believed this would get you to forget the way he acted. “I’ve seen the damn Notebook, we’re supposed to start kissing in the rain now”

“After the hell you put me through Jeonghan, I deserve a lot more than whatever you just threw together” you said before starting to walk away.

“Wait!” Jeonghan quickly grabbed ahold of your wrist before you could leave. “What do I have to do to get you to.. you know, look I’m not good at this!”

“Well for starters I think you should look up the definition of what liking someone is and how people usually act when they do like someone. When you work out how to love them right then let me know”

“Wait but before I start to show you that I can be a good person and an even better boyfriend, can you at least let me know it’s not completely useless. Like you’re not just going to reject me in the end to get back at me” Jeonghan looked at you desperately.

“I’ll see you around” you said before leaving, retreating to your apartment for the night. But Jeonghan could see the ghost of a smile on your lips.

Jeonghan was an idiot, he thought to himself, but he had a chance. He had to work this out somehow- and quick. You were a pretty girl, probably the prettiest girl Jeonghan had ever seen, you definitely had other guys interested and if he wasn’t quick he’d end up losing you to them.

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

Okay so I need people are who are diagnosed as autistic to help me out here

I been suspecting for a long time (like around a year, maybe more idk) than I might be autistic, and I did research (genuinely, not just taking some Internet quiz and self-diagnosing based on it) and I want to know if there’s a genuine chance I might be autistic, or if I have a wrong view on autism (basically, if I’m wrong about it and what it means to be autistic).

Some things than happen to me than I’ve seen also happen to a big amount of autistic people

-Problems with food since very little. Not based on taste, but texture. Eating something with the wrong texture is just horrible.

-Always felt different from my peers, never quite fitting in because I didn’t know how to interact with them. As if they knew exactly what to do and I was just flying blind. I heard people say than they felt as if everyone was born with a book of rules, meanwhile they had to learn from watching everyone else already know them, and I think that’s the best way for me to explain it.

-Intense interests on stuff, really intense. Like, is all I can think about day and night, I relate everything to it in some way or another, I know everything about it down to the smallest detail, some might call me obsessed and I wouldn’t deny it. Reminds me of the way people with autism describe their hiperfixations.

-People thought I was “gifted” as a kid, and said than I was a kid with the mind of an adult. I’m no genius, I was just interested on different stuff than other kids. I was the first one to learn to read and I never stopped. I basically lived in the library as a kid. I have a vivid memory of when I must have been like 10 and saying than my favorite thing in the world was reading and some friends looking at me like I was crazy. I’m mentioning this not because people who are autistic are “gifted”, but more because I heard they are usually interested in different stuff than their peers (doesn’t have to be more mature, it can be more immature stuff too, I think. Goes hand in hand with feeling different from everyone). Continuing on books, I also always had a higher reading level than the rest of my class. I was “a pleasure to have in class but should speak out more” kid.

-Looking back they were obviously bullying me, but I thought than they were laughing with me, not at me.

-I can’t hear the tone of my voice?? For some reason?? Sometimes I speak too loudly or too quietly or my mom says I’m being rude for “talking back” but in my head my voice is the same level and uses the same tone. So if I’m ever rude I probably don’t notice (I hate being rude to people).

-I read about overstimulation and under stimulation and it perfectly described the way I feel a lot of time. Specially overstimulation.

-If talking about something I really enjoy (hiperfixations?) I can’t be still. I’ll probably smile and fidget with something and the mere mention of it or anything regarding it outside of online spaces makes me want to scream out of excitement. Like, a really abnormal reaction to it, I believe.

-I prefer to be home on my own than outside (specially if there’s lots of people around). I don’t know if it’s hard for me to see how people are feelings, given than I learnt to notice when people don’t want me somewhere (eventually you get used to it) but sometimes when people are being nice to me I’m completely unable to see if they’re being genuine or not. An example, I was forced to spend a week sharing a room with this pair of really popular girls because of a school trip, and they were nice to me, starting conversations and stuff. So because they seemed nice, I thought they were nice. But at the end of the week I approached them and they gave me the dirtiest look and I realize they weren’t actually being genuine, they were just kind of being forced to be nice to me.

-I hate changes of routine, everyday I have the same routine and if someone wants it to change (go somewhere and do something together) they have to tell me at least a day in advance. Unless I really like them, I will feel uneasy to change my routine because it makes me feel as if I was messing everything up.

-I don’t know if it has anything to do with this, but I’m adding it just in case. I hated physical touch as a kid. Up until some years ago, I couldn’t stand it. Also don’t know if it’s related, but I always had trouble sleeping, I heard that might be a symptom but I don’t know.

-I went to a speech therapist as a kid because I couldn’t pronounce the letter s and I pronounced it as z, sometimes it still comes out. I heard problems in speech might be related but I doubt it, just adding just in case.

-I have a big sense of justice. For example everyone in my class cheats on their exams (they don’t even hide it, is more, they brag about it), and that has always upset me. Not because they can copy while I actually study, but because cheating is wrong. That’s not how it works. Why are they breaking the rules. Or for example they bring their phones to school (not nearly as bad as cheating) which is forbidden, and I don’t understand why they do that. It’s forbidden, so why?

-I notice patterns in almost everything, I also focus more on the little details than the big picture, which leads to both overthinking but also better results.

-I need people to speak to me separately. Having a conversation with two people at the same time feels like a nightmare.

-I need people to tell me things, if they want me to do them. If you made something for me to eat, don’t just put it on the table, tell me it’s for me. Otherwise I won’t touch it out of fear it’s not mine. When given instructions, I need them to be clear and detailed. All people my age are doing stuff like going to parties, drinking alcohol, meanwhile I never think of doing it and also, never knew I could do it? When did the change between going to the park to hang out without our parents for the first time and going to a party with alcohol around lots of strangers happened? Why did no one told me? How does everyone just know when to change and grow up? Why don’t I?

-Something I also noticed is than every fictional character I related to had various autism symptoms (said by people on the fandoms who are actually autistic).

[srjlvr]

,, stages of confession ‘‘

PAIRING . . . highschool-student!Jay X highschool-student!femReader !

GENRE . . . brother’s bsf trope! , fluff , angst(?) , maybe even crack but maybe just a tiny bit.

WC . . . 2.2k+ !!

SYNOPSIS . . . there are many stages of confession, especially when your crush is your brother’s best friend.

WARNINGS . . . not really a warning but heeseung as your older sibling , one year age gap(idk if its really a warning) , insecurities !

STAGE ONE — denial.

“i’m not having a crush okay, he’s heeseung’s best friend, there’s no way!” — if there’s one thing you learnt about yourself in the last few years, is that you’re a good liar, but it really depends on who you’re asking.

“you keep repeating the same sentence each time i ask you about it, i know you good enough to know that you’re always doing it when you’re lying” your best friend riki, would say otherwise.

“okay so maybe a tiny crush, it’s nothing big, he’s my brother’s best friend, let’s not forget that” you rolled your eyes, “so? it’s the perfect plot! brother’s best friend has always been my fav”

“my life’s not a movie you know” “oh it is, ever since jay entered your life, the camera started rolling”

you rolled your eyes again and playfully punched the guy.

you’ve known jay ever since you were little, he’s older than you by one year, and younger than your brother by one year as well.

jay met your brother in the neighborhood, and ever since then they became literally inseparable.

“jay, this is my sibling, y/n” a month after jay and heeseung —the long lost twins— met, heeseung finally introduced you to jay.

jay was focused on you, you were so pretty in his eyes, you totally made him fighting the urge to learn more about you.

“it’s nice to meet you” he smiled warmly at you, “its nice to meet you too” you replied happily.

those were the first and almost last words you two exchanged. there’s only “hey”s and “bye”s whenever jay’s coming around but nothing more and nothing less.

as you grew old, you started seeing each other more at school, you’d just return smiles and stares but again, nothing more and nothing less.

whenever jay would come over, you’d spend your time staring at him from the kitchen, while he was in the living room, playing some video games with heeseung.

“listen, heeseung is finishing school this year, which means you and jay finally get to talk without it being so awkward!” riki smirked at you.

“i can barely even say hey to him anymore” you sniffed, “oh come on i see the way you two are looking at each other whenever you meet in the hallway, it’s obvious that he’s crushing on you as well”

STAGE TWO — accepting.

the other day, you were walking to riki’s locker, crossing your hands and looking at him seriously.

“okay fine maybe i do have a huge crush on him” you sighed while looking at cheerful riki, “tell me something i don’t know”

“but i’ve also accepted the fact that it can never happen between us” you added, “exact—wait what no!” riki sighed, “of course it can”

“heeseung would never let us date” you sighed, “let’s not forget about the fact that he’s not interested in me, i mean look at his classmates, everyone’s so pretty and around his age”

riki rolled his eyes and smacked you, “you HAVE to see the way he looks at you whenever you’re not watching him, it’s like he has heart eyes or something like that”

“i think you’re a bit exaggerating” “i’ll hide a camera in my sweater and prove to you who’s the one exaggerating”

“what do you think i should do?” jay asked sunghoon, one of his friends and classmates. “i mean, heeseung never said anything about his sibling being off limits, but i dont think he’d like the idea of you two dating”

“i think it’s worth a shot” he shrugged, “heeseung is leaving school this year and will probably go to college, this is my chance”

jay has already accepted his huge crush on you, from time to time he would steal glances of you, so intrigued by your beauty.

whenever jay’s coming over to your house, he’d spend every second in trying to get closer to you, including going to the kitchen to fill up more than ten cups just because you were spending your time in the kitchen and he thought it’d be a great opportunity to talk with you.

it didn’t work out though, just as you said before, things are just awkward between you two.

jay can’t stop thinking about how pretty you are, and your bubbly personality is what makes him more curious about you. he watches you from afar, playfully punching your friend, riki and then laughing your ass off with him, it’s something that made him envy riki, he wanted to be the one to make you laugh like that.

STAGE THREE — trying.

another year passed and heeseung is finally out of the picture, so what’s stopping you from talking to him now?

it was fear, the fear of not being enough for him, the fear of being different and weirder than the others, the fear that he’ll laugh at you the second he hears you talking and so on.

“you should at least try,” riki said, at the verge of begging, “it won’t hurt”

“what am i supposed to say? ‘oh hey! now that heeseung’s outta the picture we can kiss!’?” riki giggled, “no, i think you’ll know what to say when you’ll see him”

“i’m going to try,” jay said to sunghoon, “it won’t hurt”

sunghoon nodded and pat jay’s shoulder, “i wish you well dude, try not to die in the hands of heeseung okay”

STAGE FOUR — meeting up as if its the first time.

you were taking some books out from your locker when jay suddenly showed up.

“hey!” he said kindly, “oh, hey jay!” you replied with a smile.

“heeseung is not here now” he added, “right”

“so i’ve been meaning to ask if you’d like to get to know each other better, it’d be less awkward between us each time i come over to your house” he chuckled.

“oh gosh yes finally,” you sighed in relief, “i thought i was the only one who felt awkward”

jay shook his hand, “no no, its totally mutual”

“so i was thinking about going to the park after school, just to talk about whatever” “i would love that” you smiled warmly at him.

“great! can i get your phone number?” he suddenly asked, “so i could contact you when i finish school”

“oh yeah right” you held him out your phone and he put his number in it, “done! i’ll see you later” he smiled and walked away.

“dude!” a second after jay walked away a figure jumped on you causing you to fall. “you got jay’s phone number AND you’re going to the park with him later? i’m so proud of you”

you glared at the figure, “oh im gonna beat you up you better start praying nishimura riki!”

“wait wait wait,” he froze before you could hit him, “can you at least tell me what happened?”

you did end up telling him what was the conversation about, and he obviously couldn’t stop teasing you about it.

“i told you and i said what i said” he stick out his tongue, “remember me when you get together”

“i’m fighting the urge to beat you up on daily basis i need therapy” you sighed.

school ended and you texted jay that he should wait by the lockers and then you both could go out together, he texted you right away with an okay.

as you walked out of the classroom, you could already see him leaning on the locker next to yours, patiently waiting for you.

you smiled and walked up to him, “hey again” he said, “hey, i kept you waiting too long?”

“no not at all! i’ve just finished some things i had to do” you nodded and put your books in your locker, “let’s go now shall we?”

“i think heeseung would kill me if he saw us together” jay chuckled as you two kept walking around the park, “i can talk some sense in him” you rolled your eyes.

“your brother loves you a lot, he wouldn’t stop talking about you” he smiled, “i could say the same about you, it’s always ‘jay jay and jay’ whenever we gossip” you rolled your eyes.

“but that’s what made me curious about you” you added and he nodded, “i’m glad to know my feelings are mutual”

you two spent the rest of the afternoon together, even going to a local cafe just to get comfy and eat some snacks together.

“thanks for today, i really hope we can do this more” he smiled, “i really hope so too, i had fun today”

he nodded and watched you walking up to your door, “i’ll text you later!”

STAGE FIVE — confronting.

“hey!” heeseung popped out of the living room and hugged you tightly.

your relationship with your brother couldn’t be better than what it is, you’re each other’s best friend and know every little secret about each other.

“hey” you replied, “you’re back late” he pointed out.

“yeah” you replied and hesitated, “i was actually with jay”

“really?” he said excitedly and hugged you.

“are you okay?” you asked him, now you’re the concerned one.

“yn please, it was obvious that the moment i leave school, you two would open up and talk” he said, “i had to watch you two stealing glances every now and then”

“i don’t understand” you said.

“you’ve never asked or talked about wether it’s okay if you and jay would hang out or not, i’m obviously a fan of you two” he chuckled.

“god you acted like you’re mad all the time!” you complained, heeseung laughed and pat your head, “it’s your mind that makes you think like that, i was actually the happiest when i first noticed your tiny crush on him”

“you didn’t even have to tell me you’re crushing” he shrugged and you rolled your eyes, “how do you even know im- you know what? im just gonna go shower” you said and ran to your room.

heeseung sent u off and then smirked, he took out his phone to call his friend, “jay you were right, she just told me you went to hang out together” he giggled.

“really? what did she say…?” jay asked curiously, “you’d have to find out”

a few days ago, jay went up to heeseung and confessed to him about his crush on you. “heeseung, i need to tell you something”

“i know and im already excited” heeseung smiled warmly. jay looked at him confused, “how do you-“ “you were about to tell me that you’re crushing over my sibling right? it was pretty obvious”

“i waited patiently for the day to come” he chuckled, “how did you even find o-“ jay’s eyes widened a bit, “i’m not blind, i noticed your stares and awkward tension, come on it was so obvious”

jay just grinned and went up to hug the older one, “since when did you become so-“ “thank you heeseung, it means a lot”

“i’ll be waiting for your confession, better do it soon or i’ll be the one to reveal it”

“please don’t” jay smiled.

STAGE SIX — waiting for the right time.

“well? it’s been a month and i havent heard anything from y/n except your hang outs” heeseung rolled his eyes.

“im waiting for the perfect time, i don’t want to rush it” jay shrugged.

“this is the perfect time! you’ve spent together a lot more than you think” heeseung pointed out.

“you’re right but-“ “i’m not going to force you, but you should do something before it’ll be too late”

“too late for what?” you came behind jay and smiled, “we were just talking about the fact that finals are soon and i didn’t even start studying” jay rolled his eyes.

“oh, same here” you said disappointed. “hey y/n, let’s go watch a movie!” he suggested.

“sure, let me go and get ready” you smiled and went up to your room.

“i’m gonna do it now” he grinned and heeseung crossed his fingers as a good luck.

STAGE SEVEN — confessing.

as you and jay sat on your seats, you noticed him taking a few deep breaths.

“are you oka-“ “y/n, i actually have to tell you something”

you nodded and waited for him to continue.

“i like you, a lot actually” he smiled, “ever since i first saw you, you caught my eye and i couldn’t stop falling for you, you never fail to keep me intrigued about anything the involves you and-“

“i would really like to take you out, on a date, and officially call you mine” as soon as he finished, the movie started rolling. “you don’t have to answer right away, take your time if it feels too rushed for you”

he then turned his head to the screen as you kept staring at him.

soon, the movie ended and you don’t remember even watching it, you were so deep in thoughts and excitement.

the jay park, likes me? you thought and your cheeks started to automatically blush.

as jay was about to get up from his seat, you grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“i would love to go out with you on a date, and i would love to be called yours” you let your mouth speak without even thinking.

jay smiled immediately and dragged you into a hug.

“oh god im so glad-“ “FINALLY!!”

you heard claps and shouts from behind you. you took a glance and saw riki and heeseung standing right behind you with small tears in their eyes.

“i never thought i’d be able to watch you two get together before my college starts” heeseung wiped his happy tears.

“i told you!” riki smirked and shrank as you glared at him as if you’re going to kill him.

jay then got closer to you and whispered in your ear, “me and you tomorrow, at 8pm, i’ll come to pick you up”

© — 2023, srjlvr. pls don’t copy/translate any of my works without permission ! | reblogs and comments are very appreciated !

[sc0tters]

Shoulder to Lean On | Luca Fantilli

summary: when you try to help Luca settle into life without Adam, the last thing you thought was that it would turn into a fight.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.05k

authors note: this is my first ever platonic pairing post. And I’ve got to say that I don’t hate it. We are back to writing things for cellys so here is something for the angst week celly!

This week had been tough on you all.

Adam’s birthday was coming up and all anyone could think about was him. Everywhere you looked you saw your boyfriend and it didn’t help that Luca had been in an upset mood the entire week.

You tried to support him in anyway that needed, you were there for Luca when he wanted someone to talk to, when he had someone to go driving late night when stress go to him.

So naturally you and Luca grew close over the few months that you had been back at school for.

But today was no normal day, the seniors were hosting a party to send the boys off on their hockey season “y/n!” Rutger called out over the sounds of music banging through the speakers.

A sense of panic ran through your body as you turned to see him “it’s Luca,” the boys teammate didn’t need to say another before you were hot on his tail following him.

Luca was sat on a bed with tears streaming down his face “Lu,” you cooed quickly coming to his side as you sighed.

He turned away wanting to ignore you “what do you need?” You asked placing your hand on his knee trying to calm him down “fuck off.” Luca grumbled surprising all of the boys who were stood by the door waiting to see you be successful.

You shook your head “you know I can’t do that.” Adam made you promise that you would keep Luca safe “just go away!” The boy pushed you to the floor “you don’t need to always come and fucking fix things.” Your eyes went wide as you watched Luca yell at you.

It wasn’t something that you were used to “enough Luca.” Nick stepped in helping you up as he sent you an apologetic smile “she should just leave.” Whilst you knew that Luca was stressing about so much more than what met the eye but you wanted to cry “night boys.” Nobody could argue with you as you pushed past them all.

To say that you wanted to lock yourself in your dorm for the whole day and not see anyone was a total understatement.

Even Adam’s calls had gone to voicemail as you didn’t want to let him know that what his brother said hurt you. Drunk or not it made you feel guilty that you couldn’t keep Adam’s promise.

But what you didn’t think was that your radio silence would send Adam right back to his brother. Your boyfriend was naturally concerned that you weren’t responding “hey bro-” Luca looked that he had just woken up as his voice was groggy.

The older Fantilli boy watched as the screen turned to a FaceTime call. Adam looked concerned as he locked eyes with his brother “is y/n okay?” His hand raked through his hair as he waited for an answer.

Over the last few weeks Adam learnt that you two were friends and as your friends scared him so his brother was his best option. Luca scoffed as the events from the previous night came flooding through his mind “she got all irritating.” The older Fantilli boy complained “you’re gonna have to go more in depth with me than that.” Adam shut the door to his room behind him as he didn’t want his parents hearing this if he yelled at his brother.

Luca had barely gotten all of his words out when Adam felt grateful that he was in another state so he couldn’t hit Luca “she cares about you, you asshole!” The NHL player blatantly pointed it out as he tried to wrap his head around his brothers stupidity.

The older boy let out a dry laugh “you’re gonna say that cause she’s your girlfriend.” Luca couldn’t let his feelings sit there for long as he could practically see the smoke coming from Adams ears “she literally told me last week that she enjoyed having you around because it made her feel like she was apart of the family.” Now his words had gotten through to his brother.

It was clear that the Michigan players face dropped “she did?” Luca frowned as guilt began to quickly eat at him “yeah she did.” Adam shook his head “so I don’t care how you do it but make things right with her so I can get my girlfriend back.” With that Adam hung up the call not wanting to say anything more to his brother.

Despite the fact that Luca and you still hadn’t spoke, you went to the opening league home game for the team. Rutger said that if you did decide to come he would put your name on the list of people allowed in the back.

Luca had been a wreck and he had his worse game of his collegiate career “you coming for dinner?” Rutger placed his hand on his teammates back as he sighed trying to lift up his mood “I should go see y/n.” Luca had put it off because he didn’t know what he could say to you that would make it all okay “I’m already here.” You blurted out causing the boy to look up from the ground.

It took Luca a few seconds to take the long strides needed to be next to you “hey lu-” you couldn’t even get your words out before he wrapped his arms around you.

With you he had never been the most physical person often preferring your presence than anything else “I’m so sorry.” His throat grew tight as he looked at you.

The lack of sleep that you had was clear as the circles under your eyes weren’t covered by the concealer that you put on this morning “you are stuck with me no matter how much you yell at me.” You let out a soft laugh.

You loved his brother and no matter what happened between you two now it wasn’t going to change how you felt about Adam “you are too good to us.” Luca sighed squeezing your body once more like he couldn’t believe that you were actually there listening to him.

A smile formed on both of your faces “maybe we should go tell Adam that we’re friends again?” Luca proposed as you laughed once more.

“I never stopped being your friend silly.”

[sequinsmile-x]

Buckle

It had been a long few days, and overhearing Strauss reprimand Aaron tips Emily over the edge.

-x-

Hi friends,

This is based on a prompt that the lovely @hancydrewfan sent me. She asked for a fic where Emily yells at Strauss and I simply couldn't resist.

Hope you like this bestie <3

-x-

Words: 3.k

Warnings: minor injury/broken bone

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The moment Emily sees Jess’s number flash up on her phone she knows something is wrong.

It was an agreement they’d had ever since Emily had gone back to work after having Hazel three years ago. Jessica looked after both Hazel and Jack when Aaron and Emily were away on cases, and she’d call every night just before the little girl went to bed so they could say goodnight. She never called during the day unless something had happened, and even then it was usually a text - like when Jack was recently sent home from school after he picked up the flu that eventually took down the entire family

Her heart drops into her stomach and she swallows thickly, pushing down the wave of anxious nausea that threatens to overwhelm her. The sound of the precinct she’s standing in, the team’s voices as they deliver the profile they’d worked on for days, disappears, and all she can hear is the sound of her own heartbeat, loud and pounding in her head. 

She looks up at the rest of the team, and briefly makes eye contact with her husband as she nods behind her and she holds up her phone, indicating that she’s stepping away. She walks quickly to an empty hallway, making sure she answers before the call rings out.

“Jess, hi, is everything okay?” She says, speaking so quickly that her words trip over each other. She had always prided herself on being able to control her emotions, the skills she’d learnt when she was also learning to talk, but any time her children were involved in something she felt torn open. Like a walking raw nerve that was an easy target, everything she’d spent years knowing how to suppress and push down suddenly on display for everyone to see. 

“Hi Emily,” Jess replies, sounding stressed. Emily can hear Hazel crying in the background, her words broken up as she begs to see her mommy, and Emily is sure she can feel her heart breaking in her chest. 

“Is that Hazel? What’s wrong?” She asks, hearing the desperation in her own voice, her jaw tight as she clenches her teeth to stop herself from crying.

“I’m so sorry, she fell off the jungle gym in the park and she’s hurt her arm,” Jess says, her voice slightly shaky, “I’ve brought her to the hospital and they think it’s broken so they are about to do an x-ray.” 

Emily nods even though Jess can’t see her, and she wipes away the stray tear that escaped her lashline, “Okay, I’ll get on the next flight out of here. Thankfully it isn’t far. I’ll let you know when I should get there.” 

“I’ll keep you up to date on what the doctors say. I swear I was watching her, it just happened so fast-”

“Jess, it’s okay,” Emily says, “It’s not your fault these things happen,” she blows out a shaky breath, “Can I talk to her?” 

“Of course,” Jess replies. There’s a moment of just background noise as Jess moves the phone, her words quieter as she talks to Hazel, “Want to talk to Mommy?” 

It’s quiet for a second and then Emily hears her little girl's voice, “Mama?” 

“Hi sweet girl,” she says, injecting more enthusiasm than she feels into her voice, not wanting her to know how upset she was, “How are you feeling?” 

Her answer is a hiccup, “My arm hurts.” 

She bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying, “I know it does baby, I’m going to come home to see you so I’ll kiss it all better when I get there.”

“You coming home?”

She wipes away another tear at the hope in her daughter’s voice and nods, “Yes, I’m coming home. So you listen to Aunt Jess and the doctor’s until I get there.” 

“Yes Mama,” Hazel sniffs, “Love you.” 

“I love you too, baby. Pass the phone back to Aunt Jess, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

She reiterates her plans with Jess, confirming she’d let her know when she had a flight sorted and she hangs up. She starts to walk back towards the main bullpen, her phone still in her hand as she already looks up flights, and she walks straight into her husband. 

Aaron frowns at her, his hands on her shoulders as he holds her in place, “Em, you okay? You’ve been gone a little while”

“Jess called,” she says, swallowing thickly as he immediately tenses, “Hazel fell off the jungle gym, they think her arm is broken.” 

He tightens his grip on her shoulders, his stomach churning with guilt and sadness that his little girl was hurt and he was hundreds of miles away. He knows his wife well enough to understand that she is barely holding it together. Her jaw was tight, as were her shoulders, and her dark eyes were shining at him, tears she wouldn’t shed until much later when they saw their daughter gathering in her eyes. 

“I’ll get Derek to take point here so we can go home,” he says, immediately slipping into practical mode, he looks down at her phone clasped in her hand and sees the available flights, “Is there one soon?” 

She nods and clears her throat, “Yeah, there’s one in about 90 minutes. I figured that would give me enough time to get to the hotel and then to the airport.” 

“Perfect, book it and I’ll go talk to the team.” 

He turns to leave and she grabs his arm, her brain finally kicking in, “We’re still in the middle of a case, Aaron. Should we both leave? She’ll be okay once she’s got a cast-”

“If you think I’m staying here when our little girl is in the hospital I’m going to ask them to check on you too when we get there,” he says, his voice serious as he smiles at her softly, the small half-smile that showed off one of his dimples that he reserved just for her, “We’re both going,” he squeezes her hand, “Nothing is more important to me than you and the kids, the team can handle the case.” 

There were times when it made her sad they hadn’t been together longer, that she’d lost out on so much time with him. It was hard being his second wife, hard knowing that he’d loved someone before, that he still loved Haley and always would, and sometimes she wished it was simpler. That they’d made something of that summer decades ago now that neither of them ever spoke about until they got together, but then Jack wouldn’t exist, and she couldn’t imagine her life without the boy she loved as if he was her own. 

But then there were moments like this when she was grateful everything had worked out as it had. Where he’d learnt from the mistakes of his past, the things he wished he could undo in his relationship with Haley, things he still carried the regret for to this day. Emily had never for a second doubted that she and the kids were the centre of Aaron’s world, more important than the job that had almost cost him everything.

“Okay,” she says, more relieved than she’ll admit, grateful she’ll have him with her during the flight home, “I’ll book the flights.” 

He smiles and leans in to stamp a kiss against her cheek, a show of affection they’d never usually exchange at work, and he squeezes her hand once more before he pulls away, “I’ll speak to Derek. We’ll leave in ten minutes, okay?”

She nods, her focus already back on her phone looking at flights, the extortionate cost not registering. She’d buy a damn plane if it meant getting home to her little girl. 

“Ten minutes.” 

___

It’s a rough few days.

She felt on edge, the guilt bubbling in her stomach only getting worse every time she looked at her daughter and saw the bright pink cast she had on her forearm. It made Emily ache every time she looked at it, every time Hazel accidentally knocked it against something, her fearless energy already back after she’d been cautious for a few days. 

Emily yawns as she pours herself a coffee and she smiles as JJ walks over and she passes her the coffee pot. 

“How is Hazel?” JJ asks sympathetically

“She’s doing better than I am I think,” she says, exchanging a small smile with her friend, “She is sleeping in our bed though. I can barely say no to her at the best of times, let alone right now.” 

JJ chuckles, “And you say Hotch is the pushover.” 

Emily laughs, “We both are. That little girl has the whole family wrapped around her little finger,” she says, smiling softly, “Especially Jack. He made an arm cast for her teddy bear.” 

“That is the cutest thing I have ever heard.” 

Emily’s smile fades as she looks past her friend and sees Strauss walking into Aaron’s office, a determination in her step that rarely meant anything good for the BAU. 

She groans, “What do you think she wants?” She asks as she looks at her friend, her frown only deepening as she watches JJ scrunch up her nose, a tell she had that lets Emily know she wasn’t telling her something, “What is it?” 

JJ winces, “Derek got a call from Strauss when we were still there, asking why she’d been told he’d been assigned head of the case,” she says, carefully choosing her words, “When he told her that you had both flown home she was…not impressed.” 

Emily clenches her teeth, her grip on her coffee cup tightening so much she’s surprised she doesn’t break it as she looks back at Aaron’s office. She can see them through the window. Aaron is standing but still behind his desk, and Strauss is on the other side, her hands on her hips as she talks, the tension in the room palpable even from this distance. 

All the effort that Emily had spent days putting into holding herself together disappears, all of her sadness and guilt turning into fury, burning her from the inside out. She looks at JJ and smiles tightly before placing her coffee cup down.

“Excuse me,” she says before she walks away, a determination in her step. She clenches her fists at her sides, digging her nails into her palms in an attempt to feel anything other than the anger rolling in her gut. She ignores Spencer and Derek as she walks past them, the latter’s comment that she seemed annoyed barely registering as she walks up the stairs to Aaron’s office. When she’s close enough, she can hear what Strauss is saying, and she pauses outside the door to listen in. 

“You left your team at a critical point of a case, this is unacceptable Agent Hotchner and you know it.” 

“With all due respect, Ma’am, my daughter was in hospital-”

“With a broken arm, something you knew before you left. I might have been able to understand if she’d been more seriously-”

It’s all Emily can bear to listen to, and before she can stop herself she’s opening the door, cutting off the Section Chief before she can say anything else, “If she’d been more seriously what?” 

Aaron steps out from behind the desk, his own irritation at how he was being spoken to, the dressing down he didn’t have the energy for, disappearing the moment he sees how angry his wife is. She’d been on edge for days, and he had anticipated that she’d cry, guilt for not being there for Hazel when she was hurt finally winning out. He hadn’t seen this coming. And he just hoped they’d both still have a job when they walked away from it. 

“Emily,” he says diplomatically, “Maybe-”

“No,” she says, cutting him off, ignoring the fact he was not just her husband here but her boss too. She looks back at Strauss, “I want to hear her say it. What would have been an acceptable way for my three-year-old to have been hurt for you to understand why her father needed to be there too?” She asks, staring the other women down, “A head injury? Car accident? Coma?” 

Aaron steps closer to her again, the mere idea of either of their kids being hurt that way making his stomach churn, “Em-”

“I want to hear her say it,” she repeats, still not looking at her husband, her eyes burning into Strauss’s so intensely she’s surprised the other woman hasn’t burst into flames, “What would have been acceptable?” 

Strauss clears her throat, finally finding her voice as she straightens her back, “Agent Prentiss, I think you’d do well to remember I am your superior.”

Emily chuckles dryly, “I think you’d do well to remember you’re a parent too,” she says bitterly, “Our daughter was hurt, she still is. We had a duty as parents to-”

“You had a duty to your job-”

“Our children will always come first,” she shouts, not caring that by now everyone in the bullpen was watching them, “And if you can’t understand that I feel bad for your children.” 

It’s a low blow and she knows it, but she doesn’t try and stop herself. She’d spent so much of her life promising herself that she’d never be like her own mother, and she knew it had made her extra defensive. She wanted her children to know they were loved, that nothing came ahead of them, and the fact Strauss was attempting to make her and Aaron doubt that and their parenting choices was only adding fuel to the fire. 

Strauss swallows thickly, her jaw tight as she turns to look at Aaron, “It’s just a warning this time. But if you pull this again without talking to me first there will be consequences,” she turns to look at Emily, “Agent Prentiss, you on the other hand are suspended for one week without pay for insubordination.” 

Emily scoffs and presses her lips together, rolling her eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest. She looks at the other woman for a moment and considers her options, clearing her throat before she steps closer.

“You’ve tried to fire us both before, now we’re apparently essential to the team,” she says, shrugging her shoulders, “Maybe you should make up your mind.” 

Strauss raises an eyebrow at her, “Two weeks. No pay,” she looks between them and heads towards the door, “I think I’d better leave before you make it three.” 

Strauss walks out of the room and leaves them standing there in silence, the small gap between them from where Aaron had been slowly edging towards them feeling briefly much larger than the few feet it was. Emily clears her throat and looks at her husband before she looks down at the floor, suddenly worried he’d be mad at her for jumping in to defend him and ultimately making things worse for herself. 

“I’ll meet you in the car,” she says, turning and leaving the room before he can say anything. 

She has to suppress a smile as she walks past the team, Penelope’s whispered enthusiasm following her out of the bullpen. 

“Okay, that was the coolest thing I have ever seen.” 

___

He smiles as he walked into the living room to find Emily and Hazel snuggled on the couch. The little girl is fast asleep, her face pressed into her mother’s neck and her broken arm resting on a cushion Emily had gently placed under it. 

“Want me to take her up?” He asks, careful to stay quiet and he smiles as she shakes her head, already aware that was going to be her answer.

“No, she’s okay here for a while,” Emily replies as he sits down next to them, “Is Jack okay?”

Aaron nods as he wraps his arms around them, careful not to knock Hazel’s arm, “Yes all of his math homework is done and now he’s playing his video game,” he says, kissing Emily’s temple, “Next time you’re helping him though.” 

She chuckles wryly, “I told you a long time ago honey, I will help with anything except math. I barely enjoyed it when I was at school.” 

“I’ve seen pictures of you when you were at school, sweetheart. I think the only thing you enjoyed was Siouxsie and the Banshees.”

She narrows her eyes at him, “One day I’m going to kill Penelope Garcia for showing you those photos.” 

He kisses her, smiling into it before he pulls away, and he cups her cheek, “Can I ask you something?” 

She nods, turning her head to kiss his palm before he lets his hand fall gently to her lap “Of course.” 

“Were you…purposely making it worse with Strauss earlier?” He asks, raising his eyebrow at her when her eyes go wide before she looks away, her focus suddenly on Hazel’s sleeping face, “Because you were already suspended. And I saw the look on your face before you carried on, you were practically goading her into making it more than a week.” 

She scrunches her nose up and groans, her cheeks warm with embarrassment as she continues to purposely avoid his gaze, “I…I may have thought that if I was going to be suspended it might as well be worth it,” she says, clearing her throat, “And this way, I’ll be home with her and Jack for a couple of weeks,” she adds, kissing Hazel’s forehead.

He smiles, his gut feeling that she’d taken the opportunity to spend more time with their children correct. He cups her chin and makes her look at him his smile soft as their eyes meet, “You’re an excellent mom, sweetheart.”

She smiles, her breath catching in her chest at the compliment. She’d needed to hear it more than she realised, needed the reassurance that not being here when Hazel had hurt herself didn’t take away from how good a mother she was.

“Thank you,” she says softly. She leans in to kiss his cheek, hoping he understands everything she hasn’t said. When she pulls back his smile is the only confirmation she needs. 

“It’s true,” he says, squeezing her hand as he reaches for it, “Even if does make you a pain in the ass as an employee.” 

“Aaron.” 

-x-

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[cieloclercs]

𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

in which childhood rivals turned best friends realise they were always meant to be something more

charles leclerc x noêmia senna borges (oc)

arriving this summer!

✧.* NOÊMIA SENNA BORGES is a trailblazer. It makes sense, when you take a look at her family tree. She comes from a family of history-makers: the daughter of four-time World Champion Gabriel Carvalho Borges, and niece of one of the greatest drivers to have ever lived, Ayrton Senna. Her future career in Formula 1 had already been written in the history books before she’d even learnt what it was. Everyone in the world of motorsport knew, from the moment the Senna Borges family announced her birth: it was only a matter of time.

✧.* CHARLES LECLERC has faced his fair share of obstacles on the long road to Formula 1. But amongst crashes and failures a plenty, no other challenge has been more difficult to overcome than eleven-year-old Noêmia Senna Borges. Ever since (literally) running into the daughter of his idol at the Junior Kart World Cup, Charles and Noa have been inseparable: even despite their fierce on-track rivalry. Years pass and things change, but the one constant in their lives is always each other. By the time they are grown — with Charles making his way to Formula 1 and Noa setting record after record in the lower categories — they’re sure there is nothing that could ever tear them apart.

✧.* THEY ARE WRONG. After two years of no contact, Noa finally earns her place in Formula 1, becoming Aston Martin’s second driver alongside Sebastian Vettel. The friendship she was once certain would last a lifetime is now shattered and broken. But as the year passes, and Noa and Charles fight for their place in the Formula 1 history books, it becomes clear that maybe absence does make the heart grow fonder — and all they needed was a little incentive to realise that they are something far more than just best friends.

CAST!

yasmin barbieri as

NOÊMIA SENNA BORGES

2000 | Capricorn | ESTP Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

.

charles leclerc as

CHARLES LECLERC

1997 | Libra | ISFJ Monte Carlo, Monaco

.

INCLUDING!

pj tomasi as luiz senna borges marianna rozmajzl as raffaella di angelo ugh_liza as eloísa dos santos alves alessia lanza as anneliese beaumont michael cimino as oscar de conceição soares

and all other characters as described!

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞.

so this is going to be my summer project after i’ve finished gcse’s!! i’ve been wanting to do a senna!oc story for agesss but what with studying and everything i just haven’t had time to write anything :(( BUT for the last couple of weeks this idea has been stuck in my head, so as soon as i leave school i’m gonna be writing this non stop :))

obviously it HAD to be a charles fic because he’s the love of my life <33 and i’m obsessed with the idea of childhood friends to lovers with charles (it’s just HIM) however, this fic is a bit more complicated than just childhood friends to lovers… i’d say it’s rivals to childhood friends to (kind of) enemies to friends again and THEN to lovers… but i have the whole story planned out in my head pretty much and i actually love it so i have to get it written down :))

i’m thinking of making a taglist for this story for when i publish it, so if you’d like to be a included, go to my navigation page and click on the google forms link! you can select to be put on the taglist both for this fic and for sliding doors! as always, feedback is always appreciated, so a like or a reblog would really make my day <3 i’ve received some lovely messages from sliding doors readers, so i really hope saudade might get the same treatment :)

countdown to summer break: 28 dayss!!

stay tuned for updates!

rose 🤍

[fandoms-in-law]

Honey Alive

Summary: Steve asks for the convertible when hush money is being negotiated after the Battle of Starcourt. He gets a little more than expected when the car moves on its own while engineless.

Authors Note: My need to write chaos has been filled for now. This was the winning ship of my crack ship poll and honestly kinda fun to write

/\/\

Steve knew cars, and he loved them. Of course he had a good one, and his parents scoffed at the idea of ever letting him be the one to work on his beamer, but he learnt how, often did small maintenance when they weren’t in town and he could get the car out of view of the neighbours.

Now he was going to use everything he’d learnt and more, because the car Hop had given him to get the kids to Cerberus was not going to scrap under his watch.

It should, seriously, definitely should be scraped and destroyed after being driven full speed into Billy’s car, but no way was Steve letting that happen to such a gem of a car. He was going to repair it and keep it, no matter how odd the looks he got from the agents negotiating hush deals were when he requested it alongside the pay out.

Besides, it’s a 1984 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz Convertible. Steve would be insane to not at least have a go repairing such a beautiful car.

And the car even wanted him to repair it, to work on it.

That did surprise Steve, enough to almost attack with his nail bat when the car rolled after him but stopped once he turned back to it. Cars aren’t meant to move on their own, and there was no way this one should be moving since he’d already asked for the engine to be removed and taken by a local garage to check for any damage and have that repaired separately.

Steve might have some confidence in his ability to repair most of the car, but the engine was not something he’s going to chance doing wrong, especially since getting it wrong could plausibly cause the car to explode.

So when the Eldorado followed his steps it understandably convinced him that weird shit was happening again and they weren’t getting even a few months before fighting for their lives again.

But when the others got there, nothing. Nobody else got the car to react no matter what they tried, and even Steve couldn’t with them there. They checked in every way they could that it wasn’t haunted or following him still and it remained as motionless as a car without a driver should until everyone else had left again.

Then it followed Steve closer to his tool box again, light somehow flashing when he went to remove the bonnet to start smoothing it out.

He decided then to just assume some of the weird shit from the mall had passed over to the car and as long as nothing deadly began happening he’d continue repairing it. Frankly with a car that wanted to be fixed and his willingness to look up car manuals meant it went easily.

/\/\

“That’s not a BMW part. You’re going to break your car, King Steve.” The drawl made Steve jump where he was checking the part he’d found matched the part name on his list and there was the schools dealer leaning against a shelf judging him.

“Good thing it’s not for my car then. This is what I need to fix the baby I’ve got to repair now up.” He rolled his eyes, holding it up and nodding, turning to head off since he wanted to get the Eldorado repaired as soon as he could.

Eddie didn’t let him leave, following curiously. “Oh, Has daddy’s money run dry so you have to get broken second hand cars instead of buying new?”

“I’d assume not, but if you see him please say it’s been 5 months and his lectures aren’t reaching me.” Steve huffed.

“Are you trying to tell me not to ask more? Cause I’m going to ask more.” Eddie laughed, keeping pace as he headed down another aisle, checking his list for the other part he knew needed replacing.

As he glanced over to Eddie, Steve shrugged. “Brought a haunted wreck from the mall ruins. Trying to get it moving without ghostly presence now.”

“Can I use that in a campaign? You sound like a DnD NPC.”

“Knock yourself out, I guess. As long as you don’t expect me to turn up and play the character myself.” Steve side-eyed him, but dismissed the bizarre sentence as Eddie dashes off, excited in a way he hadn’t expected, only yelling a goodbye over his shoulder.

/\/\

“Steve, can we please do something else?” Robin whined from the corner of the garage she’d made him put a sofa. “Or at least play some music while I work on your resume?”

“Sure, sure. I just need to get Honey’s engine reconnected then I can put the bodywork back on. If you can hear music over that then go ahead.” He agreed absently, head buried into the car, tightening a few connections.

Robin gave him a weird look that went unseen. “I’m beginning to think you’re dating that car.” She remarked.

“Eh, Pretty sure it’s alive so might need to check with Honey whether that’s the case.” He called back, stretching his back as he stood up and blinking when the car lights flashed again. “You saw that didn’t you?”

“Yup. I think your car just replied.” She stated sounding stunned.

Steve nodded slowly, “Okay, known it to do that before but never with anyone else around.”

“I remember. Thought you were having a weird trauma reaction and Joyce seriously considered getting Murray to confiscate the car for your healing.” Robin agreed. “Why is it doing anything though?”

“It wants to be repaired.” Steve muttered, thinking out loud from the times the car had reacted. “And wants to stay yellow as it literally reversed when I thought about changing the colour. Doesn’t mind if I get a different colour leather for the seats though. Not sure Honey’s views on dating me though. Can you flash once if you want to or twice if you don’t?”

The cars lights flashed once.

Steve looked over his shoulder to share a look with Robin. “How the fuck do I date a car?”

“Don’t know, but please don’t tell me repairing or mechanical work on it counts as sex for a car. I’m not going to stay if it’s voyeuristic.” She replied, words spilling as one idea came into her head. Thankfully two flashes of lights stopped her from going into a full ramble.

Decidedly not thinking on that more, Steve had another thought that got him snickering. “I don’t think Dustin meant cars when he said I could get all the girls and more if I helped investigate that Russian message.”

That got Robin giggling along with him for a while before he returned to working on repairing his new partner.

/\/\

“Okay, Honey. I think that’s you as repaired as you’re going to get.” Steve said, patting the hood of the car happily.

Today Robin had chosen to stay home, knowing how close to finishing the repairs Steve was and having learnt that Honey had times when it preferred to be alone with Steve. She guessed that once the repair was done he’d get taken somewhere on the first drive so made him promise to keep a walkie in his car just in case.

The car’s lights slowly came on then off as if imitating eyes blinking open. It reversed and manoeuvred around until the drivers door was beside Steve which popped open when it was stationary.

“Okay Honey, you take me somewhere nice, okay?” He chuckled, climbing in and belting up but doing nothing to start driving except inserting the keys.

This wasn’t like any relationship he’d ever imagined, and frankly wondered how anyone would imagine it, but he was definitely enjoying the adventure of it and how seemingly safe it was.

[pjisskullourful]

𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙

𝕘𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 [based during the throuples early days] [the complete series]

 🌈Damiano × Ethan × reader

NSFW   🔥 literally dirrrty adultsonly nastiness, the word jizz is included

° Damiano David/Ethan Torchio/female reader insert  

° “Wait, we’ve gotta warm up and stretch first.” Ethan said. - You blinked at him. “Stretch, but it’s literally waltzing. There’s no lunging or strenuous repetitive movements. I think that you’re still taking this too seriously.” | an informal dance class gets derailed

wordcount:::    6,151

° inspired by a spicy audio ° [ITA]: avida - greedy

“Are you nervous for tomorrow?”

You looked back to where Ethan was standing at the kitchen sink, his hands submerged in the sudsy water. The two of you were in the process of cleaning up after dinner - it was only fair that this responsibility was taken up by you: Damiano cooked and the two of you cleaned. A domestic harmony had been easy to strike between the three of you, even though your relationship was less than a year old, things just naturally fell into place when you were together. At your apartment, cleaning up was as simple as putting dirty crockery in the dishwasher. Extra steps had to be taken when staying overnight in Ethan’s less modern home. But you didn’t complain, any time spent on chores felt less mundane, less taxing when you had either of your boyfriend’s for company.

You were surprised by the look on Ethan’s face, somehow more serious than usual. “What do I have to be nervous about?”

You hadn’t been thinking about your plans for the following morning at all - the commitment of meeting up with your sister's fiancé, Mara, had been pushed to the backburner for the moment. Instead you had been mentally preparing yourself for what his reaction would be when the three of you got back to the season of RuPaul’s Drag Race that you were in the middle of binge-watching. He had never seen season nine, he had no idea that the bubble was about to burst for Valentina, a queen he was quite enamoured with.

“Have you ever taught anyone to dance before, like in a proper way, not just goofing around and showing random moves to Vic?” He asked.

You shrugged, coming to stand alongside him, without making any moves to grab more plates for drying. “I’ve had a little bit of experience. I haven’t exactly run my own class, or anything. But the studio where I learnt, where I took classes for years- when I was out of high school, I would sometimes assist. With the classes of just too many kids for one teacher, we would call it work experience, and they’d give me a glowing reference to attach to my résumé. So I know that it’s not totally out of my depth.

“Besides, all that she wants is to be able to lead Nadia in a waltz. It’s not like Mara is expecting me to turn her into Patrick Swayze with lifts or fierce choreography or anything more than a six-count.” You said. “Waltz is a graceful classic, but it’s also very basic.

“Maybe not as easy as I was on the night we met, but relatively simple.” You said, smiling when you caught his eye.

“Simple enough that you could teach me?”

You melted a little, moving in closer and slipping an arm around his waist. “You want me to teach… but you don’t dance.”

“Maybe I’m just looking for an excuse to have a romantic moment where we’re all close and touching. Maybe…”

You couldn’t help yourself, nuzzling into his neck. “Shut up, you’re so cute.”

“What’s this?” Damiano asked, announcing his entrance into the room, now that he was finally done with his shower. “Ethan? Being so cute?”

“It’s more likely than you think…” You agreed.

“Well, we were just talking about how confident she’s feeling about her little class with Mara tomorrow and I wondered if her teaching skills would translate into being able to teach me how to waltz.”

Damiano’s whole face had lit up instantly and he excitedly rushed over to where the two of you were standing. “Can we, oh, can we, please?” He grabbed onto your arm with both hands. “We can be your test-students.”

You looked from one boyfriend to the other, seeing how they were both wearing such genuine smiles. It would have been impossible to not melt, all of your defences weakened by how they were watching you, eyes alight with keen anticipation. They were so eager to hear whatever you had to say, their attention still thrilling to have placed solely upon you.

“Alright. Go get that coffee table out of the middle of the living room, we can practise in there.” You said, earning an excited squeeze from Damiano’s hands and a kiss on the cheek from Ethan.

“What time does class start?” He asked as Damiano left the room just as quickly as he had arrived.

The task of washing the dishes was wrapped up in less than ten minutes, with you and Ethan going in to join Damiano in the living room. Quiet music was playing from the phone in his hands, as he seemingly tried to pick a fitting song.

“Should we get changed, like, into something more appropriate for a dance class?” He asked.

“Yes.” You said, your serious tone of voice making Ethan pause from the process of getting his long hair under control with a bun. “Stripper heels- go put them on.”

Damiano’s eyebrows raised as he looked at you. “Right, because it’s not a waltz if you’re not wearing stripper heels, eh?”

“Exactly.” You said before shaking your head. “Don’t take this too seriously- what you’re wearing is fine and we don’t need music at first. I’ll just count you in for now, and then we’ll add music when you’ve picked the flow of it up.” He silenced his phone and placed it aside. “So, who wants to go first?”

“Wait, we’ve gotta warm up and stretch first.” Ethan said.

You blinked at him. “Stretch, but it’s literally waltzing. There’s no lunging or strenuous repetitive movements. I think that you’re still taking this too seriously.”

“I just don’t want you to pull a muscle or anything…” He said, approaching to the point where you were within his reach. “Just a stretch, or two. At the very least, we should do something to loosen your hips.”

You didn’t resist his touch as his hands went to your hips, even though you were watching him with a sceptical gaze. “Loosen my hips for waltzing? Have you ever actually seen somebody waltz?”

“I think you should listen to him, avida. I mean, look at him, if anyone knows how to warm up properly before a workout- it’s this guy.” Damiano said.

“Let me help you.”

You looked from the mischievous smile on Damiano’s face to the glimmer in Ethan’s eyes. “You’re not gonna let this go, are ya?”

“No. Just a couple of stretches, and then I promise I will let you totally take over and teach how you want.” Ethan said.

“Alright.”

“Well, get on the floor.”

The authority in his tone saw you bending down without question. He clarified for you to lie down on your back, and as you did so, you became aware of how keenly they were both watching you.

Then he got down on the floor with you, sitting by your feet. “Okay, so put the soles of your feet together, bend your knees and push them far apart.” Your legs stretched out, but bent, it was unnatural, but ultimately your legs held firm, instead of shaking. “Yep, that’s perfect. Does that feel okay?”

“Mm-hmm, it’s fine.” You nodded as your eyes locked with his.

“I’m gonna put my hands here, okay?” He asked, his hands going to both of your knees. “And hold you in place, loosening those hips up real nice.”

“You know, for someone that swears he does not dance, I’m finding it quite curious that you would know these kinds of stretches, specifically to prep for dancing.” You said.

He nodded in Damiano’s direction. “Somebody had to help that one when he was learning to pole dance. You can’t even imagine the bitching and moaning that was coming from him.”

You looked over to where Damiano was sitting on the ground, off to the side of Ethan. He shrugged. “I think my complaints were justified. It was consistently the worst, most painful leg workout, like every day was leg day, but my personal trainer was the Devil. But it was worth it in the end, it got you interested, sweet thing.”

“Is it okay if I push a little?” Ethan asked.

“Yep, that’s fine.” You said. “So the two of you were doing stretches like this on a daily basis? Yep, I’m sure that was always purely about fitness…”

“Uh-huh.”

“What are you trying to imply here, honey?” Damiano asked, moving over closer. “Are you suggesting that things must have gotten sexual ‘cause Ethan was being treated to a very intimate view? Much like the absolutely delicious view that I’m enjoying right now.”

You had noticed Ethan’s eyes moving briefly down to your cunt a few times during the process. But, as was his typical style - Damiano cut to the point, not spending any time on subtlety. He reached an arm out, his fingers caressing at the top of your thigh, close enough to your crotch that you were soon feeling a heat rising in your cheeks.

You couldn’t hold the giggle back for long, feeling ticklish and sensitive in this area.

Ethan acted as if he was still focused on the task at hand. “I think that’s opening your hips up nicely.”

He gently pushed your knees some more, getting them almost to the floor. The pull on your muscles reminded you of dancing, but everything else occupying your thoughts wanted to drag your mind in a very different direction. Damiano took his hand off of your thigh, but that didn’t mean you instantly stopped blushing.

“Okay.” Ethan said as he released your knees, but you kept them at a distance. He relocated his hands down to your ankles. “How about this one?”

You trusted him, your legs moving as he guided. He stretched your legs until your knees were no longer bent. Then he was easing your ankles in opposite directions, creating a large gap between your thighs. His hands went to your calves, supporting you here as he got you close to doing the splits.

“Does that hurt?” He asked after seeing a different look come onto your face.

“No, it’s just totally unnecessary.” You said, almost laughing again.

“I think it’s necessary.” Damiano said. “In fact, I don’t think you do this position enough.”

You responded to this by presenting one of your middle fingers to him.

The tension in so many of your leg muscles was starting to get to you. “Alright, I think I’m stretched enough. I’m sufficiently loosened up and definitely prepared to fuckin’ waltz.”

“Waltz?” Damiano repeated with an appropriate amount of surprise in his voice.

Ethan let go of your legs. You relaxed them, taking them to a more natural position. But before you could get entirely comfortable, he was distracting you by putting his hands to the waistband of your pants. He began to pull, bringing them down.

“Ethan?” You asked, half-laughing.

He glanced up at you, but didn’t stop what he was doing, uncovering your thighs and knees. You didn’t do anything to disrupt this process, even though it was coming up quicker than you had anticipated.

“Ethan?” You repeated when his attention went to your panties. You were wondering if he intended to do it right here on the floor - the way that Damiano was looking, you thought he would be in favour of this.

Ethan got the pants and underwear off of your body, tossing the clothing aside without any consideration for where they landed. He returned his hands to your legs, caressing the bare skin. You could feel an eager heat pooling in your cunt as each of your boyfriends looked you over with hungry eyes.

Ethan was the first to act on this, lowering himself down until his face was resting between your thighs. You sharply inhaled when his eyes left your face, going to your pussy. He greeted this area with tender kisses, his lips lingering against your labia majora. You watched the top of his head as your heart got to fluttering.

He experienced the warm skin with his lips, gradually moving further down. At your entrance, he pushed his tongue forward, earning an excited whine from you. He didn’t push inside, instead just getting a taste of your cunt before dragging his tongue up. Between your labia, his tongue swiped all the way up, until he got to your clit.

You grabbed for where Damiano’s hand was holding onto your leg and you squeezed his fingers, prompting him to move a little closer. He watched you, seeing the involuntary reactions that unfolded as Ethan started to lavish attention upon your clitoris. Sensitivities were springing to life all through you from the pleasure of his tongue resting on your hood.

Using the tip of his tongue, he started to draw circles around your clit. You could feel more blood pumping into this very concentrated area and you let your head rock back, resting against the carpet.

His tongue worked consistently in these swirls, bumping and manipulating your clit. You tilted your pelvis and squeezed Damiano’s hand a little firmer in response to this build-up. Your legs were filled with a new kind of tension, lifting from the floor to get closer to Ethan. Your thighs moved closer to his head, ready to lock him into place as your desires grew more powerful.

You were moaning as you arched your back. His hands moved up to your ass, firmly gripping as he sought to lift you up a little, getting more of your pussy in his face. You welcomed the increased pressure this brought, your free hand going to his head, moving across the smoothed-back hair.

Damiano leaned down, coming closer to you as he licked his lips. You brushed your nose against his before kissing him. The intensity was there at once, telling you that he had been enjoying what he had been seeing. His hands travelled up the side of your body as he leaned more of his body into you.

All the while, you were feeling yourself getting closer as Ethan kept his tongue at your clit. When he sucked the hood between his lips, you moaned and the sound was muffled by Damiano’s mouth. At this increased pleasure, your jaw grew slack and he took advantage of this, his tongue invading your mouth.

They drew the desires out of you, goosebumps raising up all over your body. With the hood of your clit in his mouth, Ethan rubbed his tongue all over it. These sensations spread so much deeper than the surface and soon you were seeing (and feeling) fireworks behind your eyes. More needy whines were captured by Damiano’s mouth on yours.

Ethan’s mouth released from your clit, slightly dialling back the intensity. But you weren’t ready to relax as he kept his hands firmly grasping your butt. You could still feel the heat coursing through your veins as Damiano’s tongue massaged the roof of your mouth.

Ethan laid the flat of his tongue against your hood, letting the tight bundle of nerves pulse as you anticipated his next move. At the same time, Damiano placed his hand over your breast. His fingers explored over what could be felt with no bra beneath your thin T-shirt. Your nipple was perked up and ready for his attention.

Between his thumb and forefinger, he pinched the stiff peak, delighting you with a new spike of arousal. While he held onto the nipple, Ethan began to stroke his tongue up-and-down on your clit. He was nudging you closer to that edge with his consistent lapping.

He set into a determined rhythm, working that pressure exactly as you needed it. Your thighs pressed to either side of his head, squeezing as you began to move your hips. You attempted to match his rhythm, pumping your hips in time to the strokes of his tongue.

You wrapped an arm around Damiano, clinging to him as all of this intensity started to get to you. And it was making you ravenous - you couldn’t kiss him hard enough, you couldn’t ride Ethan’s tongue quick enough.

“Oh my God.” It came out in a choked sob when you tore your mouth off of Damiano.

He moved his lips to your throat, giving you a greater sense that you were floating. You kept your hips in motion, too full of desperate energy to possibly be still right now. As Ethan continued to bob his head with your movements, you wondered if his fingers were going to make indents in your ass cheeks, fiercely attached to you.

You were chasing the climax, wanting to reach the moment when all of these lovely sensations were married together. Your eyes were squeezed shut as your system was rushed by so much stimulation.

“Baby, oh baby, yes…” You moaned as your hips wildly bucked into Ethan’s face.

With your muscles tensed, you reached that point of perfection and promptly fell apart in Damiano’s arms. Your thighs gave one last squeeze around Ethan’s head before releasing, twitching as they relaxed down.

He eased off slightly, giving your clitoris quick kisses as you began coming to terms with the peak you had just reached. You flinched and struggled for breath. His hands let go of your butt and you were aware of more time between his contact on your clitoral hood.

“Do you want me to apologise for hijacking your dance class?” He asked as he began to lean away, out of the space between your thighs.

You laughed, still feeling dazzled by your climax. “I don’t care.” You looked down at him, reaching for his cheek. “I want you to fuck me.”

“What did I just do?” He asked, appearing a little confused.

“No, that was phenomenal, but I want you to go get a condom so you can fuck me properly.”

This statement didn’t prompt any follow-up questions. He got up on his feet and swiftly left the room, leaving you alone with Damiano. You turned to him, your lips meeting in a tender kiss.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He said, peppering your mouth with fast kisses. “Seeing you like that, hearing all of your sexy sounds- it got me so hard.”

You grinned and secured another kiss from him. “Show me.”

He manoeuvred his hips, adjusting so that you could look down his body and see his crotch. You saw the fabric of his sweatpants stretched by his stiff dick. It was an appetising sight, it made you want to do more than kiss.

“Show me properly.” You said.

He didn’t hesitate, grabbing the waistband of both his pants and underwear to pull them down enough for his cock to come out. This was a definite improvement as your neediness started to grow again.

“Show me closer.” You said.

You saw a smile on his face as he started to move, taking on a far superior position. On his knees, he walked up to your shoulder. You watched his dick getting closer to your face and you licked your lips. You were thrilled when he didn’t need any further instruction, somehow knowing exactly what you wanted and moving to straddle your face.

You wrapped a hand around his stiff length, steadying him as you lifted your head. You placed a kiss to his tip, your eyes locked with his. You savoured the look in his eyes, feeling this was something you had earned - there was only one other person that could get that look.

“Fuck…” He quietly moaned as you let your lips part, bringing the crown of his cock in.

His hand went to the top of your head, affectionately rubbing you here as you sucked on this first inch of his dick a little. You brought your tongue forward, watching his reaction as you massaged the end of his dick with it.

Then you relaxed your jaw and fully extended your tongue out, over your bottom lip. He smiled and rocked his hips back, positioning the shaft on your awaiting tongue. He rolled his hips forward again, pushing the head up your tongue before gently moving back. He wet the underside of his length like this, moving at the pace he desired. You heard his deep exhales as you were tasting more of him.

“Well I’m glad you guys didn’t get bored without me.” Ethan commented to announce his return to the living room.

Damiano didn’t quit working himself on your tongue, just glancing over his shoulder at your boyfriend. “Blame avida, it was all her idea.”

“Of course it was.” Ethan said. Even though your view of him was entirely blocked, you could hear that he was getting closer to where you lay. “She’s too greedy for her own good.” You felt the warmth from his body as he sat down by your legs again. “Having just one hole filled simply isn’t enough, is it?”

“Uh-uh.” You replied, keeping your tongue as still as possible for Damiano.

Overdramatically, Ethan sighed out your name. “What are we going to do with you?”

“I figured that right now we would fuck her.” Damiano said.

You were feeling Ethan’s hands on your legs before you heard him speak again. “Makes sense.”

Damiano caressed your forehead as he looked down at you. “You can tap out anytime you need to.” Instead of disrupting his current activity by trying to talk, you communicated your understanding by showing him a thumbs up. “Good girl.”

Ethan was easing your thighs apart, holding your legs up with his hands under your knees. He moved himself into this available space and soon you were feeling skin-on-skin as he lined himself up. He leaned his body weight into you.

You felt your labia majora pushing apart as he slid his cock into this warm area. For the moment he was avoiding your hole, in favour of exploring what was on the surface. He moved slowly, stroking himself against your pussy. This served to bring your attention back to this area and he soon had you realising just how sensitive your pussy was. When his tip rubbed against your clit, your eyes fluttered shut and you keenly arched your back. You closed your lips around Damiano, ready to sink deeper into all of this.

Ethan drew himself back over your swollen pussy, repositioning until you were feeling pressure at your entrance. You heard how quickly his breath was coming in as he gently began to bury into your pussy. He didn’t rush, giving you time to adjust as he slowly sought a greater depth.

Inside of your mouth, Damiano was throbbing. You rubbed your tongue all over his shaft as he shifted his weight on top of you, no longer sweetly stroking your head.

Keeping your lips set in place, you began to bob your head on his cock, working the shaft up-and-down. Your lips were slicked for him as you explored your current range of movement. At present, he possessed enough restraint to hold his hips still, allowing you to set the pace. You knew it wouldn’t take long for him to get to a place of overwhelming you with his lust, but for now you were building.

Braced on his knees, Ethan invested in some motion as well. He began to jerk into you and your walls excitedly fluttered with his movements. You were feeling that keen heat spreading through your body again as you worked your thigh muscles, trying to fall into his rhythm.

As you were meeting his rocks, you tried to match your timing on Damiano to this. It was all falling into place, that synergy the three of you could share without words.

Ethan held your thighs apart, keeping your legs in a firm grip as he steadily increased his pacing. Each of his thrusts were tender, never taking you to a place where it felt like more than you could take. Instead he was gently working you up as you felt his dick twitching between your sensitive walls.

Hollowing your cheeks around Damiano earned you his loudest noise yet, an excited whimper. He put his hand back to your head, gripping some of your hair between his fingers.

“Do you wanna know what thought I just-... oh, I can’t get this idea out of my head.” He said and you opened your eyes to look up at him again. “Thinking about it is driving me wild, baby.” You blinked at him, wondering how you could encourage him with just a look. “I’m gonna tell it to you and then I’m gonna pull out for just a sec’ so you can tell me what you think, okay?

“Okay. I wanna give you a fuckin’ pearl necklace, and then watch him eat that off of you.” He stopped his movements. “Don’t you think that would be so, so sexy?” He pulled his hips back, emptying your mouth.

You took a deep breath as you thought this proposal over. “Yeah. I do think-... it’s just that-... well, I’ve never done- had that done to me before, so…”

“That’s okay.” He said, yet to catch his breath. “But do you want to just try it with me? And maybe you’ll really like it. If not, we literally never have to do it again, ever. All you have to do is take your top off and lay there, I’ll make sure it all gets cleaned off of you, okay?”

“Okay.” You said, well and truly curious for this new experience. “But shouldn’t you see what he thinks of it too?”

“Oh, right.” He said and glanced over his shoulder at Ethan. “Are you down for cleaning up something I leave on our girlfriend?”

“Sure, I think a pearl necklace would really suit her.” He said.

“Yes. Good boy.” Damiano said, he was beaming as he moved off of you. “And good girl.”

You put your hands to the bottom of your shirt as you began to sit up. In an instant, he was grabbing you, both hands on your face as he pulled you in for a kiss. You felt his energy rush at you, absolutely intoxicating. You pulled your shirt off, genuinely eager to be rid of this last item of clothing. He gave you some more kisses before you had the chance to lay back down.

“Are you comfortable like that?” He asked before mounting you again. “Do you need me to get you a pillow?”

“No, I’m good, I’m happy.” You said.

“Happy to suck cock.” He said as he resumed his position above your face.

“Happy sucking this one.”

He stroked your cheek, smiling as you opened your mouth for him. His tip slid down your tongue until you could wrap your lips around him. He continued to watch as you started working your tongue against him, massaging all over his shaft.

“Look at that look on your face, you really are happy sucking cock, aren’t you?” He asked. “That face is just so cute, can I fuck it? Can I fuck your face, avida?” You raised your hand to show him your thumb sticking straight up. “I can? Oh good…”

He straightened his spine and shifted his body weight, getting his knees in the right positions. You were ready when he started to pump his hips, you moved your head with him as you kept your lips in place.

Ethan easily slid back into your wet cunt, filling the space between your thighs again. He came in closer and you rocked your hips into him.

It was Damiano who set the tempo, thrusting into the warmth of your mouth again-and-again. Ethan began to follow this and you shut your eyes, sinking into the flow because you knew it could take you higher.

Then Ethan was getting faster, seeking something quicker as he held your legs up. His heavy breathing underscored the near-constant whimpering coming from Damiano. You couldn’t help making some sounds of your own in response to the pressure that came with Ethan moving in deeper, your moans thoroughly garbled by Damiano’s cock.

Before he could hit that perfect spot inside of you, Ethan pulled out. It felt like it was happening too soon.

But swiftly he was providing you with a substitute - pushing his cock in to rest alongside your clitoris again. Your labia majora hugged to him and you could feel how much he was throbbing, which was reciprocated by your needy pussy. His fingers remained clamped onto your legs.

While he was taking this breather, you concentrated your energy on Damiano. He was getting close to gagging you with every buck of his hips, but he seemingly always knew when to stop. You ignored the drool leaking from the corners of your mouth, this could be dealt with later - mess didn’t particularly worry you at present.

With your mouth still so full, you were whining when Ethan sank back into you. At once he strived to find his pacing. He was moving with less restraint, his hips energetically snapping into your butt.

When he found your sweet spot, it made your world quake. And the intensity was immediately ratcheted up by him placing his thumb over your clitoral hood. The pleasure rushed you so fast that you were left stunned.

You could feel him swelling inside of you. Your heart launched into your throat as the prospect of coming together dawned on you, your lust interweaving. You knew how close he was, at the edge with you.

There was nothing smooth about his final thrusts - his hips unrhythmically jerking and stuttering as the climax began to steal his strength. But it was enough to get him the whole way in, nestled against your sweet spot where the all-mighty clenching of your walls was enough to spell his end. He fell apart before you.

But you were so close that your release was captured seconds later, to the sounds of his breathy whimpers. You forgot about keeping your mouth tight around Damiano as you got so thoroughly lost in your own ecstasy. The orgasm blocked out everything else momentarily and all that you were aware of was the feeling that your body was glowing.

You had stars still dancing before your eyes as the world trickled back into your consciousness. You realised that Ethan remained inside of you, but he had ceased his thrusting and his grip on your legs had relaxed. The next thing you recognised was how Damiano had pulled back a little, currently his tip rested on your lips. This gave you a chance to catch your breath as his fingers ran through your hair.

“Are you okay?” He asked as your eyes focused on him. “You look a little spaced out. We can stop for a sec’ if you need-”

You had lifted your head from the floor so that you could suck an inch or so of his wet dick into your mouth. “I was promised a necklace.” You could feel your second wind coming into you, the orgasm enlivening you as you craved to give him a similar bliss.

He smiled down at you. “And you deserve it.” He eased his hips forward again. “Yes you fuckin’ do.”

“You can tap out if you need to.” Ethan said, his hand softly stroking your hip as Damiano gradually filled your mouth again.

You secured your lips around him as he began to reclaim his pacing. He locked into what he wanted, his eyes shutting as his pumps came in faster. You bobbed your head with him, wanting to give him the perfect friction that he needed.

“Yes, baby.” He gasped as you sucked your cheeks in around him.

The threat of being gagged didn’t come back. He withdrew about halfway, concentrating the stimulations towards his head. As he pumped with this portion, you took to swirling your tongue around the swollen tip. His ongoing movements were keeping you from accomplishing anything consistent, but your lapping was enough. You could feel how he was starting to leak.

His breath was coming in heavily when he pulled out, a hand wrapping around his shaft. His voice was whiny and quiet as he spoke. "Oh yes, yes, yes, I'm coming." He hastily stroked, the head of his dick pointing beneath your chin. "Are you ready for it?"

"Yeah." You said, squirming a little in your anticipation. Your eyes darted from his face to his cock, you wanted to see the look on his face, but you also wanted to see the cum shooting out. You were eager for it all. "I want it, I really want it, Daddy."

His hand kept going on his cock. "I'm gonna give it to you, I'm gonna- guh-gonna… fuck, fuck!"

The hot, thick jizz was hitting your clavicle before his jerking concluded. He watched what he was doing, happily moaning as more of your skin was coated. The majority landed towards the centre of your chest, with some shared off to the right and only a droplet or two on the left side.

He released his cock and began to move off of you. You could see his chest was rapidly rising-and-falling as he looked down at you with a shine in his eyes. His dry hand stroked the side of your face as he leaned down, kissing you.

“It couldn’t possibly look any more beautiful.” He whispered. “Thank you, babe.”

“Maybe one day I can return the favour.” You said.

He perked up at that. “Fuck yes, can we?”

Ethan repositioned on top of you, coming in closer to survey Damiano’s handiwork. “You didn’t want to give her earrings too?”

Damiano laid down on the carpet, rolled over to keep watching the two of you. “Oops. Maybe next time I’ll remember that.”

“Earrings?” You repeated, looking from one boyfriend to the other. “Pearl earrings? No way. You are making that up.”

“He’s really not.” Damiano said.

Ethan was bowing his head down to your chest. “That’s a discussion for a different night, my darlings.”

He laid down a kiss that lingered, with his lips parting. Feeling his tongue slowly stroking across your skin prompted a moan from you before you could stop yourself. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, your eyelids fluttering shut as you sank into this slower pace of sensuality. It was the perfect chaser to the primal flurry the three of you had gotten lost in. This was a chance for you to catch your breath, even as your heart continued to flutter.

“Do you like how that tastes?” Damiano asked.

Ethan kept his lips very close to your skin as he answered. “You know I do, Daddy.”

He continued to slowly drag his lips and tongue across your skin. When you opened your eyes, you saw the wide grin on Damiano’s face and you had a feeling that his fantasy was playing out just as he had desired.

Ethan moaned as he wrapped an arm around you. “Babe, you’re still so tight.”

“Yeah, that probably has something to do with the huge dong inside me.” You said, making Damiano laugh.

“Oh, please do not say dong.” Ethan said. “My point is- I’m really sensitive and you’re really tight, you should probably be careful.”

“Right.”

“Or I could take it out.”

You shook your head as you trailed your fingertips down his back. “No, don’t- don’t pull out yet.” He met your eye and you knew that he understood what you weren’t able to say.

“Do you two have any idea how sexy you are?” Damiano asked. “I’m gonna think about this so much, like so much. I’ll probably never be able to see a regular pearl necklace without getting a tingle ever again.”

“I’m glad we didn’t let you down.” You said.

“You never do.” He said, coming in to kiss you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You said.

“And you…” He stroked a hand down the nape of Ethan’s neck. “God, I love you too.”

Ethan lifted his head slightly. “I love you and I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Damiano stayed watching, enthralled by every lick and kiss. After doing what seemed like history’s most thorough cleaning job, Ethan pulled back. It was decided that you should have a shower.

He told you before he started to pull out. As he did so, he gave you some tender kisses, bringing you a sense of closure.

He decided that you shouldn’t have to walk to the bathroom. You were smiling as he lifted you off of the ground, carrying you out of the room.

His shower wouldn’t accommodate more than one body, so this would be a solo activity. He helped you get the temperature right.

“That’s just like how it went when you would help him stretch before the pole, isn’t it?” You asked.

He looked at you with a smile. “Pretty much.”

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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[tryingmyhand-atwriting]

BEGIN AGAIN 

Chapter One : An Unplanned Run-In

Notes: Hi, everyone (or no one if no one bothers to read!) This is my first ever attempt at posting fan-fiction that I have written, although I have been a reader of it for years. I’ve been in multiple fandoms through out the years but never had the guts to post anything out of fear of not being good enough or no one liking it but I figure - if one person likes it or one hundred people like it, it will all mean the same to me which is utter gratefulness that will swell within me. I am posting under a side blog so no one will know it’s me although I think there is someone who has found me (if so, hi Elise I love you.) Even if you hate it and it sucks and is boring be nice to me please I am baby. That is all - if you have made it this far I am grateful for that too.

Warnings: SLOW BURN. Hang in with me folks once we get to the good stuff it’s promising. Also, new writer - that’s a warning in itself too.

Word Count: 6545

Ashley Tisdale would argue that at times she knew her best friend better than he knew himself. Since the first day they met their connection had been instant and not even time or distance had proven able to dispel the friendship they both helped to nourish.

Not seeing him for three years didn’t change a thing between them and the older sister intuition kicks in when he’s over for the first time upon returning, meeting Jupiter in person now that he’s home, when he says, ‘Member Isabela?” And a lightbulb goes on over her head.

Ashley remembers a pretty, young eighteen year old interning for Austin’s personal assistant in 2013 to 2014. Isabela had been kind to a fault and so gentle as a person that Ashley–and Austin–had developed a protectiveness over her. She had fit into their group effortlessly and there was a close friendship that had developed between Austin and her. So close they were, Ashley would joke about being replaced. It all went downhill after the Great Incident of 2014 and Ashley never heard Austin nor Vanessa speak about Isabela again.

She exits her kitchen, resting against the doorway with her arms crossed. “Yeah I do,” she replies wondering where he would take it next. Austin hums but doesn’t reply as he continues stroking Jupiter’s back, the toddler asleep on the couch beside him. “Did you run into her or something?” She probes.

“Nah, just been… reminiscin’, I guess.” But Ashley knows her best friend, knows by the clench of his jaw and glint in his eyes that he has more to say. Things he may not want to admit or isn’t sure he should admit. “When Lydia told me she was stepping down after havin’ her baby I asked if she had any contact with Isabela but she said they don’t talk anymore.”

Ashley does a double take. “You wanna offer her the job?” She isn’t sure how to explain to him that if someone reached out after years with no contact , she would have a lot to say to that person. Granted, Isabela would never give anyone a piece of her mind but to save Austin from rejection she knows he is in desperate need of some womanly advice. “Don’t you think that’d be, uh–I’m not sure these are the right words but–awkward and mean after what happened?”

“It doesn’t have to be for the job, Ash.” Austin shrugs his shoulders. “With all these new changes in my life I guess I just uh–I know what people I want in my life now.” Ashley has seen firsthand what he means. While paparazzi had always been a part of their lives, the recent attention and invasiveness being introduced to Austin’s life was something new. A level of fame even Ashley hadn’t achieved with High School Musical..

Ashley had faith in Austin and his talent, even if he wasn’t as confident in himself. She could see his wildest dreams coming true but with Elvis, Ashley also knew he had learnt some lessons scary enough they would never shake. She saw he was frightened to death of being made to be someone he wasn’t, of being put on a pedestal and failing to meet expectations. Most importantly, Austin was made aware of how quickly people came around for the wrong reasons, ready to take advantage of success, money, and fame. Someone who freely gave loyalty and honesty expected it in return, a betrayal of that nature would hurt Austin the most. Ashley had seen Austin lose himself and have to find who he was again, but the man who reemerged was skeptical, with a new point of view.

“So you want to make amends?”

It takes Austin a while to look at Ashley, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Jupiter’s back. “More than anything I just wanna talk to her.” But she sees the longing in his eyes when they meet hers and pieces of the puzzle begin to fit together.

That’s how Ashley ends up at Chucky’s Bar in Los Feliz on a Thursday night. She didn’t tell Austin that she occasionally chats with Isabela over Instagram because she didn’t want him to do something embarassing like slide into her DMs with a lame greeting and possible emoji. Austin was smooth and charming in many ways, but at the end of the day, he was only a man and this situation was better handled with a woman’s touch. All it had taken was a ‘miss you! when are you free?’ before Isabela responded saying that this was where she’d be on her last night in LA before she traveled to Hawaii for a work trip.

“Ashley! You came!” There’s a girly squeal and arms squeezing her from behind before she turns to face Isabela. There’s a wide smile on her face and her hair frizzes with the humidity of the crowded bar. Sweat shines on her face, mascara smudged under her eyes, but Ashley has to smile– Isabela never let perceived-imperfections dull her shine. “You look hot.” Isabela checks her friend out with an impressed grin.

“I feel out of my element. I can’t remember the last time I dressed up.” Ashley giggles, taking in her surroundings. “I’m also scared I’m going to start leaking and ruin this dress.” She gestures to her enlarged breasts, made more noticeable by the deep V-cut of her dress.

Isabela lets out a loud laugh. “Some guys like that,” she whispers conspiratorially and Ashley slaps her on the arm. Isabela grabs Ashley by the hand and begins leading her to a table, “Come on, a friend saved us a table. Victoria’s got bar duty tonight but she’ll be checking in occasionally.”

“Victoria’s still working here?”

Chucky’s Bar brought back many late night memories for Ashley. There were many drunken nights spent at the low-key bar where Ashley, Austin, and Vanessa had never been recognized. It was at this bar where Ashley met Isabela and her tough as nails cousin, Victoria, who was cold the entire night and would only make rounds to their table to make sure Isabela was drinking enough water to go along with the tequila. It had taken almost a month for Victoria to warm up to the former Disney kids. Ashley was sure any kindness on Victoria’s part was thrown out the window after the Incident.

Ashley would have found Victoria’s over protectiveness creepy if she didn’t understand why. Isabela was sweetly naive, always seeing the best in the world and people around her. An innocence that had probably broken her heart more than once. It hadn’t taken long for Ashley to feel the same way towards Isabela, like she was a younger sister.

“She practically runs this place. Derek’s one year away from retiring and he’s already promised to leave it to her.” Isabela’s face beams with pride. As they approach the table she turns to face Ashley briefly and catches the uncertainty in her eyes, the awkward hunch to her shoulders, that only comes when someone feels unwelcome. Isabela reaches to hold Ashley’s fingers in hers. “She’s gonna be on her best behavior, okay? I told her you were coming and anyways, everything that happened that day had nothing to do with you.”

Doesn’t it, Ashley wants to ask. Guilt gnaws at her, knowing she was meeting up with Isabela for selfish reasons. To do her best friend’s dirty work, get him into contact with someone who probably, most likely–definitely–wants nothing to do with him.

“We talking about how Victoria breastfeeds you?” There’s a busty redhead seated at the table. She’s loud in her proclamation and beautiful in a sheer silver dress. She’s gorgeous, her hair swept back in an updo and her legs crossed, the hem of her dress rising dangerously high. Already there’s more than a few curious eyes glancing towards their table. She smiles at Ashley but it drops when she catches sight of Isabela’s empty hands. She guffaws, offended, “Where are the shots? You get up and come back with no shots?”

Isabela tumbles into the seat beside her, laughing good-naturedly at her friend’s offense. It was obvious the girls had started drinking before her arrival but Ashley didn’t mind; she was planning on an easy night. Hangovers tend to be a multi-day affair once you hit thirty. “Luis said he’ll bring ‘em out to us,” Isabela tells her friend before presenting her to Ashley. “This is the worst influence in my life and the devil on my shoulder — Ash, meet Sky. She was my college roommate and yes, Victoria hates her. Doesn’t give you any right to talk shit about her though,” Isabela pinches Sky’s underarm for good measure.

“I wasn’t talking shit about her, I was making fun of you. The pretty princess stuck in the tower–you’re twenty-six.” It must be a sermon Isabela has heard before because all she offers in response to Sky’s mocking tone is an exaggerated eye roll and a shake of her head.

“Don’t worry, Victoria hates me too,” Ashley tells Sky. “She’s just always gonna look out for Isabela. No judgments here.”

Sky puts a hand on Ashley’s arm,eyes twinkling. “Oh my God. We should totally start a club.”

“I think you two booze hounds have had enough,” a blond waiter approaches their table, balancing a tray of shots. He looks toward Ashley, clarifying, “I mean those two. Especially this one,” he shoves an elbow into Sky’s side, the woman yelping and returning the hit.

Isabela leans over to touch his shoulder, imploring.. “Luis, you’re just in time. Their conversation was sobering me up.” She pouts, her lower lip jutting out.

“You just don’t like hearing the truth–”

“Not you too!”

“Ladies,” Ashley holds up her shot glass and a wedge of lemon, a strategic distraction, putting an end to the conversation. The constant back-and-forth chatter is definitely enough incentive for her to break her own self-imposed sobriety. “Are we taking this shot or what?”

“I like you,” Sky states, preparing her lemon with salt.

“Wait! We have to cheers to something,” Isabela insists when both Ashley and Sky go to throw the tequila back. She purses her lips to the side in thought, “What’s something all three of us can cheer to?”

“How about this,” Ashley begins, leaning forward on her elbows, “Sky’s here for you and so am I. So how about a cheers to Isabela for bringing us together tonight?” Isabela flushes, her lashes fanning against her cheeks as she avoids eye contact, flattered and flustered all at once. Ashley momentarily feels like she’s kissing ass, knowing she’s still wrestling with guilt over her ulterior motives, but she isn’t lying about her affection for her friend.

Sky extends her shot glass forward. “To Isabela.”

The night is a whirlwind after that. Ashley remembers a Pitbull song coming on that had Sky pulling both she and Isabela to the middle of the dance floor, smack between other dancers. There was another shot–or four–taken and by the time the girls are dancing to the fifth song of the night, now joined by a group of girls they had befriended at the bar. Ashley has to momentarily return to the table, ridding herself of her jacket.. It isn’t lost on her that the reason for her random request of a girls’ night out hasn’t been brought up once, but she doesn’t have it in her to ruin what has been an amazing night so far.

She could always try again. Preferably when it wasn’t her first time reuniting with an old friend in months.

As Ashley saunters back over to their spot on the dance floor, she catches sight of Sky’s silver dress towards the bar with Luis, no doubt asking for another round of shots. Ashley hopes–and doubts–that Sky forgot to order her one, the beginning of a headache pounding behind her eyes. Isabela’s still where she left her but a man has since joined her. He’s handsome, Ashley must admit, and standing almost a foot over Isabela who’s lacing her fingers together in front of her repeatedly. She has a smile on her face though,so Ashley doesn’t feel the need to interject as she nears.

“You’re sweet, but I’m here with my friends. Sorry,” Ashley catches Isabela apologize, her lashes fluttering as she blinks rapidly, and her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. In anyone else Ashley would have taken the actions to be coy or flirty, but in Isabela she sees them for what they are–nervous tics. More words are exchanged and Isabela moves away when the guy places a hand at her hip. Ashley is debating on whether or not she should intercept and tell the guy to get lost, knowing it would be quicker than Isabela’s kind approach, when he throws his hand out beside him in a fist in annoyance before storming away.

Isabela stumbles back, flinching violently at his outburst, and Ashley’s beside her in the next moment, a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She asks, scanning over Isabela. She didn’t see the guy touch her, but Isabela’s response worried her, as if he did more than utter cruel words to her. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, no.” Isabela shakes her head and attempts a smile but her eyes are glossy with unshed tears. “He just got mad and it caught me off guard, I guess. I’m fine.”

“Isabela—” you don’t seem fine, is what Ashley’s going to say but she’s cut off by the arrival of Sky–who did conjure up another round of shots–and two blonde girls they had been dancing with earlier.

“I got us more shots, bitches,” she whoops loudly, pumping a single fist. She drops the act once she takes in the heavy atmosphere. “What’s wrong?”

Ashley hesitates. Some guy was rude to Isabela and she almost cried, which was technically true, but her reaction hinted at something deeper–although the man hadn’t seemed to lay a hand on her. What worried Ashley was the possibility of someone else having done so..

“Some guy was a dick and caught me off guard. Ashley’s never seen my freak outs before.” Isabela shrugs, feigning nonchalance and maintaining eye contact with her friend. There seemed to be a million words said between them but their mouths didn’t move once. It was a look shared between best friends with no words necessary.

Sky shakes her head, turning to Ashley with another smile and extending the tray of shots again. “Isabela doesn’t go out much, so every time she does she gets shocked at what big assholes guys actually are.” She said by way of explanation, handing a shot to Isabela. “She’ll survive; it just takes her a couple seconds to shake it off.”

Ashley detects the bullshit lie, but it isn’t a topic she wants to press so publicly. Instead she politely declines the shot, “I need water for the next hour before Ubering home. It’s Jupiter’s birthday party tomorrow and I need to be up early to set up.”

“Oh, no,” Isabela’s brows pinch and she places her shot back in Sky’s hand. “I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have asked you to come out to a bar if I knew you had to be up early tomorrow.” She interlocks her elbows with Ashley’s, pulling her to Luis’s section of the bar and signaling him for two glasses of water.

“I’m a grown woman, Is. And lack of sleep is nothing new to mothers. Having a newborn is like a hangover that lasts for months.”

Isabela chuckles, sliding her glass of water over. “What a lovely comparison!”

“I love being a mom,” Ashley defends, laughing. “But it’s not as easy as people make it out to be. At least it wasn’t for me. I called my mom crying so many times, sure that I was failing or ruining this perfect little person somehow.”

“You’ve officially talked me out of ever wanting kids.”

“Come on,” Ashley rolls her eyes. “You put everyone before yourself; you’d be the perfect mom.”

Isabela shrugs a shoulder, her elbow leaning on the table. “I don’t know. Maybe. I wanted kids when I was younger, but the past few years have basically been about my career. One thing is for sure though, I’d want it to happen on my terms and at the time I’m ready. No time soon.” The conversation and glasses of water have helped both of them sober up and, for that, Ashley is glad. The room isn’t spinning as much as it was before. Now, Ashley just feels drowsy as the alcohol leaves her system. Isabela must catch her tired expression because she hums, “What time should I be at your house tomorrow to help you set up?”

Ashley shakes her head vehemently. “You’ve got a flight tomorrow, miss. You’re going to need all the sleep you could get.”

“I could sleep on the flight,” Isabela returns smartly, her tone matter-of-fact. Ashley pushes her knee, sending her spinning on the bar stool. Isabela continues. “I feel guilty I had you come out! No way in hell are you setting up alone tomorrow before hosting a kids’ party. I’m helping!”

Luis interrupts their conversation, throwing a rag over his shoulder and refilling both glasses with more water. Ashley smiles. “Two beautiful ladies like you must be starving. My momma always said the way into a girl's heart was through her stomach.”

“I think your mom had it wrong; isn’t it supposed to be a man’s stomach?” Ashley laughs, but she has to wonder because food certainly sounded like heaven then.

“Two burgers to go please and then an Uber.” Isabela shoots him a dazzling, cheesy grin, her cheeks dimpling as she throws a hand over Ashley’s shoulder. “We’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

—

Waking up early after a night out is harder to do the older she gets. If Isabela hadn’t offered to help Ashley with Jupiter’s birthday party set up and have a flight scheduled for later on that day she would have stayed in bed nursing her hangover for the next forty-eight hours. The breeze is fresh as she waltzes up to Ashley’s front door to ring the doorbell. It’s early spring and as is regular for Los Angeles the sun is bright and scorching but the wind is a welcome reprieve from the heat. Various trees are surrounding Ashley’s front yard but Isabela doesn’t dare take off her glasses. Her eyes were probably swollen and red from lack of sleep and overdrinking the night before. Come to think of it, she still felt slightly drunk.

She had been woken up two hours earlier when Sky had crawled into her bed. Ashley and Isabela had left the bar before anyone else and the late time Sky showed up at her apartment meant that Luis and Victoria must have let her and a few others continue drinking after closing time. Isabela doesn’t understand how Sky did it. Isabela hadn’t drank half as much but knew she would be suffering twice as hard compared to Sky.

“Hi, sunshine.” Isabela can only grumble in response to Ashley’s greeting, letting her usher her inside the house with a laugh. “I told you to sleep in. I’m making Chris do all the heavy work anyway.”

“I’m perfectly able,” Isabela insists, sliding her glasses atop her head. She claps her hands, taking in the balloons and empty candy bags surrounding the living room coffee table. “Put me to work.”

There were fifteen other children in Jupiter’s daycare class and each one had a specific diet request which meant each candy bag must contain different items and not be confused. Ashley handed Isabela a list of the kids name and items their goodie bag must contain and sat her down in front of all the miniature snacks and toys. Jupiter’s party was space themed and the small moons and planets that Ashley had bought to go in the bag made Isabela coo. Why were tiny things so unfairly adorable?

“I want to make sure they are perfect,” Isabela defends with a fond eye roll when she sees Ashley arching an eyebrow as she triple checks a bag. There’s a small smile on Isabela’s lips from Ashley’s teasing but when she puts her mind to a task she always has to make sure it is done right. Not to mention that focusing her full attention on the goodie bags had her paying less attention to how sick she still felt. Even when she was younger she had never handled hangovers well.

“Do you want me to place the trash can beside you? Need a reminder as to where the closest bathrooms are?” Ashley teases her friend, noticing the large inhale and exhale she’s continuously doing and knowing it is in efforts to tame her growing nausea. She had offered Isabela tums and breakfast but Isabela insisted the only thing she would be able to keep down was water.

“I hate you,” Isabela returns, leaning back to let the couch cushions swallow her. “Drinking is not meant for me. I don’t know why I keep letting Sky talk me into nights out.” She closes her eyes for a few moments. Her eyelids feel heavy and she wonders if her eyebags are as horrible as she imagines. Isabela knew she looked a mess when she was tired. She wasn’t lucky enough to be a cute drowsy girl. No. It was all dark eyebags and swollen eyes for her.

“Think of the memories,” Ashley insists. “Memories are all we leave behind anyway.”

Isabela pops one eye open. “That was dark,” she laughs, never having known Ashley to be anything but optimistic. She gets what she is trying to say though. It doesn’t matter how much money someone left you if they were pieces of shit throughout your life, you would have rather had good times with them.

There is a shift in Ashley’s attitude, a tension in the air and Isabela knew it would come up sooner or later. She remembers being back at the bar. Crowded and sweaty and that guy had been an asshole but it was nothing new — it wasn’t until he had turned his hand into a fist and swung it beside him that she had reacted. Isabela had flinched and it made her feel weak but knowing Ashley had caught sight of it caused anxiety to flare up in her chest and overtake every feeling in her body. Hangover and shame be damned. She was sick to her stomach deciding whether she wanted Ashley to know the truth or not.

“Is,” Ashley begins, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Isabela doesn’t want to seem flippant or uncaring of the worries her friend is bringing up so she sits up and mirrors her position. Showing she’s listening but keeping what she hopes is a blank expression on her face so nothing is given away. “Last night at the bar… when that guy asked you to dance —” Ashley cuts herself off and Isabela has been through this before. Knows that the people in her life care about her and it hurts them to think about and they can hardly bear to ask. “If you don’t want to answer it, that’s fine. We’ll move on and I promise I will never bring it up again but I have to ask at least once. What happened with that guy at the bar?”

Isabela thinks back to her sophomore year in college, freshly twenty and in love with the new usual that had taken up residence at Chucky’s Bar. He’d been a couple of years older and had only recently graduated from university, he was on his way to taking over his family restaurant. He was sweet and funny, his family had been warm and welcoming and within a blink of her eyes her sweet dream had turned into her worst nightmare. His tight grips became punches, his jealousy became delusions, and the hopes of him changing for her were flushed down the drain. She knew the saying, ‘if they did it once they will do it again’, but she had been so young and dumb and blinded. She considers herself one of the lucky ones. The incident had only escalated once and she had managed to get away.

It’s been years and she’s had therapy. Isabela isn’t angry at the world. She doesn’t hate all men. Hasn’t sworn off to ever date again or anything like that but the memories still feel fresh in her mind. Sometimes more than others and they always succeed at making her feel weak because she can’t help her body’s physical reactions. She can admit that the memories paralyze her every single time she has to deny someone something or she is in a position to displease someone, even minimally. It’s what had happened at the bar: Isabela’s palms had begun sweating the second the guy approached her because she knew she was going to turn him down. He had been kind in asking but not so nice once she had declined his offer. It hadn’t been the curses he had called her that made her flinch. The flinch had been in response to the arm he’d thrown out in exasperation and more than anything she’s only embarrassed of her lacking strength.

It’s one thing to have your weakness known and another entirely to have to explain it. It was like baring your soul to every person you came in contact with and Isabela trusts Ashley but she’s not ready for the way Ashley looks at her to change. She doesn’t need another person in her life viewing her as needing to be protected.

“My ex boyfriend wasn’t so nice,” is what Isabela settles on and she hopes that it’s enough for now. She remembers her mothers tears and Victoria’s anger when she woke up in the hospital. Ashley’s eyes soften and tear immediately and Isabela isn’t ready to draw out any other reaction. She reaches over to place a comforting hand on her friend's knee, assuring her she was with her now. “Oh Ash, don’t cry,” there’s a wobbly lip accompanying her chuckle. “It was a long time ago and I’m fine, okay? I’m right here.”

There’s astonishment in Ashley’s eyes, wonder over the strength of the woman sitting in front of her. Talking of her pain and still choosing to comfort others. “I hope Victoria killed him,” is all Ashley can think to say and Isabela lets out a watery laugh with one last pat to her knee before bringing her arm back.

“Let’s move on to these balloons, yeah?”

Three hours are spent blowing up balloons and taping them together as well as convincing Ashley to not change every detail over the chosen theme. Chris had been seconds away from crying when Ashley suggested for the tables to be moved and it was only when Isabela convinced her otherwise that the tension in his shoulders seemed to release. He had made a crazy motion behind his wife’s back and Isabela had to bite back her laugh. She sympathized with the stress on Ashley in ensuring the party was perfect for Jupiter and she was glad if she was able to ease a sliver of that.

After meeting the gorgeous and chatty Jupiter she found herself bummed that she was unable to stay. Jupiter was kind in providing Isabela with a tour of her playroom and allowing her to color in her favorite art book. There were lots of gibberish and babbles that ended with Jupiter looking up at Isabela waiting for a response so all she could do was pretend she understood the little girl with responses of ‘oh yeah’ and ‘wow’.

“I don’t want to let her go,” Isabela complains with a pout, squeezing Jupiter for a goodbye hug that the toddler was more than happy to return. “She’s perfect. I don’t understand how you guys get anything done, I just want to have her in my arms all day.” She takes advantage of having her in her arms and decides to take one last whiff of her baby head before letting go. “Have the best birthday party, little lady. Eat cake until your heart's content.”

“Uh oh, someone has baby fever.” Chris cocks a playful eyebrow in Isabela’s direction.

“No, no, no. I’m more than fine being the cool aunt who gets to spoil them rotten and hand them back during tantrums,” she replies, placing both hands on her knees to rise from her couch on the entryway, Jupiter having disappeared to the backyard. “You two should have another one, though.”

Chris’s wide eyes and immediate head shake have Isabela laughing. Ashley elbows her husband slightly, rolling her eyes at him before responding. “That one runs us ragged. We wanna wait until she’s a little older.”

Isabela can understand that. “My flight is in three hours and I still need to shower —”

“Is that what I smell?”

Ashley rolls her eyes at her husband, “Ignore him. It’s what I do.”

There is a bright smile on Isabela’s face, content to be around friends and their marital teasing. Maybe she missed them more than she thought. She feels guilty for believing Victoria when she said Ashley must have had ulterior motives for an impromptu girls night. Isabela had been nervous and taken more shots than she should have before Ashley’s arrival, convincing herself it had something to do with the mishap from years before. Fortunately Victoria and Isabela were both wrong and she found herself letting tension release in Ashley’s presence.

“Make sure to send me lots and lots of pictures of Jupiter. I want to see her chubby cheeks smothered in cake frosting and her little face when she opens her gift.” The adults peek over in the direction of the distracted toddler. “Thanks for having me over.”

“Are you kidding? Thank you for helping. I would still be stuck in a stress frenzy if you hadn’t been my sound board today,” Ashley replies, pulling her old friend in for a hug. Chris has the door open for Isabela behind them as he lets them say their goodbyes in peace, knowing it may be a while before the girls would be able to see each other again. “Let’s not go that long without contact again, ‘kay?”

Isabela shook her head. “Now that I’ve met your little monster you aren’t getting rid of me.” There’s another round of waves and goodbyes before Isabela exits their home and they close the door behind her. She feels lighter than she had when she arrived that morning, sleep deprived and slightly hungover. The air breeze against her no longer has the morning freshness and the LA heat has managed to set in.

She takes solace in the fact that in a few hours she was going to be in Hawaii. It was a light work trip with her client only having one single interview and photo shoot so she knew she would have downtime to hit the beach and local restaurant. Isabela’s making a mental note to text Jessica, her coworker and client’s social media manager, as well as opening her notes app to see the packing checklist made the day before when she hears footsteps trudging towards her and her name being called.

There's a sinking feeling in her gut. A part of her wants to run away and hide, remembering the embarrassment and shame that was brought upon her that day, but there’s a voice in her head telling her to keep her head held high and act like nothing was off.

“Austin, hey,” she hopes her tone isn’t filled with the dread she feels.

There’s a pause before she allows herself to face him for the first time in seven years. Isabela has seen him on television shows and movies, on the cover of magazines and gracing the front pages of tabloids with his then girlfriend. She would have to be in hiding to not have seen him this past year alone with all the Elvis promo, but seeing him in person manages to take her breath away. He’s handsome and that hasn’t changed. If anything, time and new opportunities have done him well. She remembers a sad boy who had just lost his mother and didn’t know what to do with his life; he was skinny and lanky and hadn’t got a haircut in months.

The man in front of her had life in him. He’s filled out since the last time she saw him and she sees a gleam in his eye that wasn’t there before. Austin must be happy, its the only guess she would make, and no matter what he put her through, happiness and health is all Isabela would have ever wished for him.

“Ash didn’t tell me you’d be here,” he says as he approaches closer to where she stands. Isabela expects the hug, finds herself accepting it, and then she immediately hates herself after. “It’s so good seeing you. I’ve been thinking about you.” Austin has never been one to shy away from his feelings, he’s always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but this once she wishes he wasn’t so honest because it somehow hurts more to know she’s crossed his mind and he never reached out. “My assistant, uh, Lydia, remember her? She's pregnant. Told me last week and she was really happy. She’s gonna become a stay at home mom after, I think.”

There’s a brow arch because she’s unsure of how the news pertains to her. Isabela has talked to Lydia frequently through the years and the woman had called her a few days prior to share the news. “Yeah, she told me. Her and Raul are really excited. I mean, good for them, I know they’ll make the best parents.”

Austin looks like he’s gonna continue as he nods his head along in agreement but, “Hang on, you keep in touch with her?” He asks and he looks genuinely confused. It makes two of them because Isabela has no idea what’s going on in this conversation or what she could possibly have to do with Lydia being pregnant and why on earth it would be the first thing Austin wants to share with her after six years of no contact.

Isabela nods slowly. “She’s been a great help to me through the years. Helped me finish my internship and get an interview at this agency I’m at. I tell her she makes me feel like a nepo baby with all the connections she offers.” The fond eye roll shows all the love between the two women and transports Austin back in time to when there was a genuine friendship between them and he remembers to put the conversation back on track, where he wants it to head.

“Well, the job’s yours. If you want it.” There’s a dead silence that takes up the space between them. Quiet enough where he can hear the sound of the leaves rustling on Ashley’s front yard and the faint sound of a car honking from a block over. Austin feels the need to explain, “The past year has been amazing, Is, and I’ve actually got some of my favorite directors asking for me to read for their films. And with Elvis coming out, despite how it makes me sound like a complete dick, things are changing for me and I want people I can trust around me. You know, people who won’t come around for the wrong reasons or with bad intentions. When Lydia told me she’d help me find someone new all I could think about was offering it to you. I’ve got James, Kate, and people I trust around me and I wanna keep that going. I trust you. And I already know you’re damn good at your job.”

The betrayal that has simmered beneath her skin for six years - a betrayal from a friend and former employer, a betrayal that Isabela had forced herself to forgive without apologies being exchanged for her own emotional health - she feels the betrayal awaken in her chest as if it’s the day of again. She didn’t need anyone to plead for forgiveness and she didn’t need to be fought for but she always hoped that if a thought from him was spared for her it was because of more than him needing her for a job. A job he was only offering because he was big and famous and people were out to use him now.

Did Austin wake up and think, “hey, she was humiliated and treated like shit in my backyard and never spilled the beans to any tabloid so I must be able to trust her?”

Isabela reminds herself to take a deep breath. Austin was many things but he was never selfish or inconsiderate of others. His mom and sister would have never allowed it. Isabela had to come to terms with the fact that a moment of great disappointment and disloyalty in her life didn’t create an impact in his life. He hadn’t spent three days crying in bed afterwards or had a hard time getting hired for months after because gossip had made the rounds. Nope. The humiliation, sadness, and shame was left for her.

“I, um,” she knows that anyone else would have a lot to say. She wishes she had the guts to do the same but she doesn’t want to engage in an argument or have him give a meaningless apology. She doesn’t want him to know how much she still cares when he obviously had moved past it. “I’m taking a year off. Gonna take some time to travel and all that, but thank you. For thinking of me and offering.” She hopes her eyes aren’t brimming with tears because they sure are currently burning.

Austin looks disappointed and she wonders why he’d be anything but aware of the fact that she wouldn’t want to work with him again. Do they remember the day differently or something? She doesn’t have the gall to say any of that and she bites her lip to stop herself from easing any discomfort between them so the awkward silence grows between them before Austin moves to break it.

“Let me take your number down, at least,” he says as he reaches into his back pocket to pull his sleek black iPhone out and hand it to her. She takes it, noticing no phone case on and she cringes because her phone wouldn’t survive a day. “In case you come back from vacation early.” There’s a teasing lilt in his tone and she offers a small smile as she inputs her number for him, “Or just so we could catch up. You’ve been missed.”

There’s that eye roll again and it makes his stupidly handsome grin immediately return. For her part, she offers another small smile and wave as she heads down the pathway, “until next time, then,” she replies and when she turns she takes a deep breath to disperse the tightness in her throat. Although it’s unlikely, she wishes the next time is never because she wouldn’t survive another experience.

[goinginsanetostaysane]

i miss you but you don’t even remember me

we never really spoke to each other. you don’t even know what i look like but i still miss you. i was the child that randomly walked into your life and then refused to leave because i needed you. i was young and i was in pain but you were there for me. i learnt everything about you but you didn’t ever want to know anything about me.

on one day you told me you were just like an onion with ‘many layers to your personality’ and i thought that was the most fascinating analogy ever. and then i read about it in a book.

love, rosie // 2004

another day you said you were watching ‘the breakfast club’. i asked you what that was and you said, ‘obviously, you wouldn’t know about it.’ i thought i’ll watch it some day. i still haven’t.

the breakfast club // 1985

you told me your birthdate and i spent months trying to contact grant gustin through his manager just because you told me you loved watching ‘the flash’. i wanted to give you an incredible gift but ended up making an elaborate presentation. i still remember your birthday and i send you a message every year which i delete within a week because i’m embarrassed that i haven’t forgotten it when nothing of me remains in your memory. 

instagram 'happy birthday' text // 2022

you told me you wrote poetry and played basketball and that reminded me of troy bolton from high school musical. you said you also knew ballroom dancing. i thought you were the coolest person i’d ever met.

high school musical 1 and 3 // 2006, 2008

my favorite book is ‘the perks of being a wallflower’. i read this quote and started getting teary-eyed because it reminded me of you. you were to me what charlie’s anonymous friend was to him. i didn’t mean to trouble you but i guess i did.

the perks of being a wallflower // 1999

we shared a common love for cats. your favorites were grey british shorthairs with blue eyes. i’d send pictures of them to you constantly.

pictures of cats // grey british shorthairs

i am not surprised by how little i mean to you since i forced myself into your life. i’m sorry. i truly am sorry. and i’m sorry for constantly coming back into it. i’m sorry for saying i won’t do it again but still sending you long paragraphs pleading for forgiveness for being a nuisance.

sorry for writing all the songs about you // clara mae, 2018

i know i left abruptly but that was because i was scared you’d leave first. i’ve been left before so i thought it would hurt less to be the one to do the leaving but i guess i was wrong. i still miss you. and i think about you whenever i'm sad because i met you when i was at my lowest.

summertime sadness // lana del rey, 2012

- missing someone is painful. there’s always feelings of grief and sorrow that comes with reminiscing memories with them. but the most devastating feeling is when the person you miss doesn’t even remember you exist. when you’re nothing more than a faint memory of their past but to you, they were everything. you thought about them for the years that followed even though it hurt you every time they crossed your mind -

[snowcandyz]

The One That Got Away

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Mammon/MC

Summary: 'In another life, I would make you stay; so I don’t have to say you were the one that got away’ - OriginalTimelineAU! Inspired by 'The One That Got Away' by Katy Perry.

TW: Major character's death, Lesson 16 spoiler, blood, killing

A/N: Originally, I don't want to upload this here, but I changed my mind. Old fic from yukihaie. Word counts of approx. 2.8K

MC.

Such a beautiful name, along with a beautiful smile. As much as Mammon wanted to disagree and turned his head away in embarrassment, that’s one of the many things you have that he held dear.

Who would’ve thought a human like you were capable of taming five Avatar of Sins?

“Mammon…? Mammon! Why are you zoning out again? We’re late!” you shook his shoulder frantically to wake him up from his daydreaming session.

“Huh? Oh crap! Hurry up, human! Lucifer’s gonna nag on us again if we’re late!”

“I am hurrying! You’re the one who dazed off all of a sudden!”

Needless to say, they both earned a 3-hours lecture from Lucifer because of their tardiness. Who’s idea was it to have a marathon of TSL DVD Full Series at night before school?

Oh right, Leviathan…

But the third-born managed to wake up earlier than the two, so he’s free from Lucifer’s after-school lecture.

“Remind me not to trust Levi again. That jerk! Didn’t even think about wakin' us up,” Mammon grumbled.

Your response was only to laugh as you plopped down into your seat beside him.

No matter what he said, you both know he cares about Levi. Enough to sacrifice three hours of his day just so his brother had some company while watching his favourite series.

“I’m tired…” Mammon rested his head on your shoulder in hope to get some rest after a tiring day. He eyed your hand—or more accurately, your wrist—where a black coloured bracelet wrapped itself loosely around it. A crow’s feather-shaped pendant reflected some light as Mammon played with it in between his fingers.

Around Mammon’s wrist was also a similar bracelet. The only difference between the two was, yours were engraved with a letter M behind the pendant while Mammon’s was engraved with your initials.

“Ya know, as my first gift…. because… because I’m your first demon…? Yeah! Yeah, that’s right! The Great Mammon is your first demon! So it should be right that we have something that matched. Because I’m your first and you’re also my first lo- I-I mean! The first puny human I’ve made a pact with! Just so ya know, I ain’t the type to make a pact with a human that has no magical powers before. So just be grateful someone as awesome as me are willing to lend ya my powers,” was the excuse he gave when you questioned his motive.

Of course, he received some backlashes from his brothers when they saw the matching bracelet, saying he’s monopolising you all to himself but Mammon didn’t care.

And you obviously didn’t care either, because you never questioned him about the meaning behind the bracelet ever again.

It’s amazing how your actions never failed to impress Mammon.

Sometimes he felt as if you already knew what was playing inside his head, but sometimes he felt as if you’re too oblivious to even realise his feelings for you.

And being a tsundere is a curse.

A curse where no one wants to make the first move. A curse where you just have to keep denying the truth until you can’t hold it back any longer. 

A curse that’ll have you regret it so much until it’s too late.

.

Mammon remembered how it all started.

It was a heartbreaking moment for him, truly. He learnt the truth that you only made pacts with him and his brothers just to release Belphegor from the attic.

‘And to think I even let you have my heart when you had ulterior motives from the start…’

No one was moodier than Mammon. Sure Levi felt betrayed because his best friend turned out to be a backstabbing human who’d want to use his power for something else, but what about Mammon?

No words could describe the pain he felt. He literally could hear his heart crack.

So when you came to him to apologise for the misunderstanding, he felt conflicted.

On one side, he wanted to forgive you and just hold you in his arms, but on the other, he wanted to see you put yourself in his shoes.

He sighed heavily, didn’t really forgive you but also wasn’t as mad as before.

But what’s to say that your first demon won’t help you again?

Mammon came along with you for your little journey of apologizing to his brothers and he was glad they accepted your apologies.

As for him? Yeah, maybe it was time to forgive you as well.

But maybe after all this mess was resolved. And he could finally tell you how he really feels about you.

Yeah, it’s time Mammon gathered his courage to ask you out because his brothers’ fondness of you were getting more annoying by the minute.

He’s the Avatar of Greed. No one touches his belonging and no one shall ever take what’s rightfully his. You’re his human, his love, his strength. So it should be common sense for his brothers to back off.

But everything changed when Lord Diavolo made a bizarre offer to you.

“Go back in time and find out who released Belphegor from the attic. Then, I’ll release Belphegor.”

What the hell? Why? It’s not your job to do something as dangerous as that! And what’s with this idea of not letting any demons you’ve made a pact with come along?

He should come along! He’s your Guardian Demon! What if you hurt yourself in the process? Or what if you get lost between those mazes of timelines?

At least if the others didn’t trust that Mammon is reliable, take Satan or Beel at least. He’s sure they can protect you too.

“Why can’t I come along? I should be by their side all the time!”

“Mammon, this is an important mission. I think MC’s going to be fine on their own. We should trust them.” Satan sighed.

“Important? Then, the more reason for me to come along!” Mammon growled.

“Seriously Mammon? Don’t be acting so clingy now! We all want to come with MC but we can’t! Lord Diavolo and Barbatos said so,” Asmo frowned, looking as annoyed as ever.

Beel only held his wrist anxiously as he watched his older brothers’ in action.

Mammon clenched his fist tightly.

Something lurked inside his heart and it was squeezing him so bad, he couldn’t breathe. Something in his senses felt as if…

As if it’s the last time he’d be seeing MC.

“Mammon,” your voice snapped him out of his train of thoughts. Your touch on his hand warmed his heart and the way your eyes stared deep into his made him forgot what made him furious in the first place.

And that smile. That damn smile.

“I know you’re worried. But it’s going to be fine. I’m only gonna be gone for a little while,” you said, giving him the best reassurance to calm down.

Mammon could feel the heat crawled under his skin and immediately released your hand, turning his head away and said, “W-well, it’s not that–I mean, I’m not worried or anythin! I just–I thought that maybe you’ll be needin’ my power. Ya know, I’m THE Mammon. Of course, I should protect my human…”

“And… there he goes.” Satan rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“What a normie! This is so embarrassing to watch. #Cringe,” Levi hid his blushing face with his hand.

“Mammon, cease this attitude!” Lucifer gave his stern glare and warned the Avatar of Greed.

'Seriously? Can’t these people feel what I’m feeling? Maybe not Lucifer but Asmo? Satan? Beel? Levi? No one…?’

“Shall we start, MC?” Barbatos asked politely, ready to lead MC towards his room where the numerous doors to the different time loops were situated.

Their back was already turned against Mammon and ready to leave.

But the heavy feeling in Mammon’s chest didn’t go away. Instead, it intensified as soon as he saw your back.

Swiftly, he grabbed ahold of your wrist. The shape of the pendant and bracelet registered themselves under Mammon’s touch. Though the pendant felt cold, your wrist was definitely warm and your pulse was still there, beating against his skin.

“Mammon!” Lucifer warned again.

“It’s fine,” you stopped Lucifer from lashing out at the second-born.

“Give me a few minutes, Barbatos,” you turned around to look at the butler and gave a curt nod. The obedient butler only bowed slightly and gave his permission.

“MC, please! I don’t know why, but I… I feel like… I feel so–”

“Mammon…” you gently wrapped your arms around his waist, leaned closer to his chest and sighed deeply.

Mammon froze. Sure he’s clingy, and yes he had touched you a lot in the past, but never this close. And this intimate!

He felt himself blushed profusely from your action, alongside some shocked gasps and grumbles from his brothers. Mammon’s heart was beating so loudly, he was scared you’d hear them from your close distance to his chest.

“What is this?! What am I watching!” Levi’s shriek could be heard from afar.

“Oh MC! How dare you… I thought I’m the one you like the most,” Asmo whined

But that didn’t matter because in his eyes, only you mattered.

You looked up from the hug and extended your hand to cup his blushing cheek. Your smile was still as comforting as the first time he’d seen it.

“I promise I won’t get hurt. I promise I won’t get lost. And I promise to bring your brother back to this family. He deserved to be here with you guys,” you said, before adding, “And I definitely promise to come back as soon as possible. After all, we were supposed to have a date this Sunday, right?”

'So ya did notice, huh?’

Oh, how he felt like scooping you in his arm and eloping right there and then.

Mammon threw away his shame and hugged you back. His hold on you was tight as if he’s holding on for his dear life.

Mammon didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care if Lord Diavolo or Barbatos or his brothers or anyone was watching. He didn’t care if his brothers started teasing him more after this. He didn’t care if you failed to bring Belphegor back either. All he wanted was for you to come back safe and sound.

After what felt like an hour, he finally let go and smiled, giving you some reassurance and strength, “Ya promised, human! So ya should be prepared to fulfil it!”

With yet another smile and some laughter, you turned your back against him again. This time, ready to go and fulfil your mission.

Mammon didn’t stop you this time. He gulped down the bitter taste in his mouth and clenched his fist in anxiety while watching you follow Barbatos.

.

Mammon had been pacing around since you left, finding himself more anxious if he sat down.

“Can you stop pacing around? And stop grumbling,” Satan said, sipping his 10th cup of tea.

“You too, Satan. How many cups of tea will you drink before you’re satisfied? And you, Levi! Stop sighing,” Asmo frowned, “I’m sure MC will be back soon. Just try to calm down, okay?”

But the time never came. And Mammon was getting more anxious.

Where were you? Why are you taking so long? You only need to know who released Belphie! Or did you get lost while trying to find the door back home?

Mammon was so close to smash through Barbatos’s room and just grabbed you out of the damn door already.

That is until he saw Barbatos finally coming out of his room. Mammon let out a sigh of relief but only to have his breath hitched again when he saw no sign of you behind the butler.

Even Barbatos’s facial expression was a bit different than his usual composed self. He looked…

Distressed?

“Hey, Barbatos! Where’s MC?” Mammon asked, barely keeping his cool.

The loyal butler only looked down to the floor guiltily as a response to Mammon’s question.

“Barbatos, what’s wrong?” Lord Diavolo asked, looking concerned.

Lucifer and Beel also joined the others after knowing that Barbatos had returned.

“My Lord, I have some bad news to tell you,” Barbatos started.

This sure piqued everyone’s interest as they waited for him to continue with multiple reactions plastered to their face.

“Is something the matter?” Lord Diavolo was probably the only one in the room who was calm and composed.

The words that left Barbatos’s mouth after that made Mammon’s blood boiled. He clenched his fist tightly, already drawing blood from his palm. But the pain from the cut was left ignored.

“–and unfortunately, they can’t make it–”

That was the last straw before Mammon turned into his demon form and dashed forward to attack Barbatos.

“Mammon!” Lucifer also turned into his demon form to stop his brother’s action.

But the butler didn’t retaliate, “Forgive me, Mammon. It’s my fault. I failed–”

“YA DAMN WELL DID!”

“Mammon! Stop!” with a swift motion, Mammon was sent flying across the room, knocking himself into one of the walls by Lucifer’s strength.

But he didn’t care. He didn’t care if he got hurt by his brother; he didn’t care if his hands were bleeding; he didn’t care if his brothers and Lord Diavolo saw him ugly crying right now and he didn’t care if Lord Diavolo was to charge him with treason for hurting his loyal servant. He didn’t care at all.

All he wanted was for you to be back in this timeline, safe and sound. And Barbatos couldn’t do that. He couldn’t look into the future to see if there’s any possibility of you getting hurt and he even failed to protect you when changing the timeline is fully his domain.

Mammon got up and charged into Barbatos again, but was stopped by Lucifer, “Enough! Mammon!”

Mammon changed his focus to his older brother instead and punched Lucifer in the face with massive strength. Lucifer staggered behind but his grip on the second-born was still tight.

He’d surely knocked out Mammon if he could, but the rage inside the Avatar of Greed was immeasurable. Even Lucifer as the strongest had a hard time blocking all Mammon’s attacks.

Levi, Satan, Asmo and Beel were already in their demon forms and helped Lucifer stop Mammon from stepping the line. They knew they weren’t as strong as those two but they needed to do something.

All of them were hurt by the news but attacking Barbatos wasn’t the solution.

You’re gone now, and there’s no way they could get you back.

Even with his brothers' strength combined, Mammon still gave them a hard time.

After a while, he finally dropped to his knees and roared in pain.

Mammon’s fist also punched the ground in frustration. He gripped his hair tightly and let out as many cries as he could.

His heart hurt a lot. It was burning with rage, sorrow and longing.

His brothers also stood there, fists trembling and biting their lips in hope that the tears didn’t betray them. Until Lucifer approached the demon.

He slowly kneeled down and wrapped his arms around Mammon’s torso, letting his brother cry his heart out on his chest. Asmo and Beel followed through, already letting their tears flow down and joined their older brothers.

Levi, however, prefered to hide his sadness and distanced himself from his brothers while Satan, only stood there, neither approaching nor distancing himself. Couldn’t contain his anger any longer, Satan decided to leave the scene to let off some steam anywhere else.

The mood was very heavy and no one dared to say a word, not even Lord Diavolo and Barbatos. The only sound that filled the area was Mammon’s cries and occasional sobs from the Asmo, Beel and Levi.

.

Everything was bleak.

His senses felt numb.

He couldn’t breathe.

His ears were ringing and he felt so weak, yet so angry.

He’s angry at Lord Diavolo letting this happen; angry at Barbatos for not checking whether you’d be safe going there all by yourself; angry at Belphie for killing you; angry at his own incapability of protecting you when he always bragged to everybody that he’s your Guardian Demon.

Letting his tears flow freely to his pillow, Mammon closed his eyes.

Under his touch was your bracelet, dried with blood stains and cold from missing its owner’s warmth.

.

In another life,

I would be your love;

We’d keep all our promises,

Be us against the world.

In another life,

I would make you stay;

So I don’t have to say you were,

The one that got away.

Taglist: @jerw-inne @rakshamon @amistytown @sparkbeast20 @highly-functioning-mitochondria @everlasting-elegy @poetofthedyingstars @drrkives @rubird--playsotome @trumoia

Thank you for reading! Any kind of feedback is highly appreciated :D

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[maruaders-reference]

Istg , I’ve actually learned more French from jegulus fanfictions than I ever would’ve if I took classes. Like, I was walking past the French class today at school and I actually understood some stuff. (I’ve literally never learnt French in my life)

[indian-kahani]

Day 5: A little freedom is all I need

Freedom.

I found very little of that in my life. Three siblings meant that more often than not, bedroom translated to communal dorm, balcony to extended-family-chai-and-snacks-space, and free time to free babysitting. I learnt early on to hide things – not because I was ashamed of them, but because it was safer. Hiding them meant I wasn’t accountable for them. Hiding them meant no one could take them from me. Hiding them meant they were safe.

Paint sets.

Favourite outfits.

Diaries.

To a seven-year-old me, hiding things was exciting, sure, but tiring. Every so often, I would lose that favourite pair of socks, or that special birthday present, and scratch my head for weeks as to its whereabouts, only for it to turn up a few months later.

And so, I tumbled into my teenage years – with mismatched socks, a skeptical outlook on life, and fiercely protective of what little personal space I had.

School gave me a little respite, but it was painfully obvious that I needed more freedom than my parents were willing to allow me. There was only so much that could be stashed in lockers and among textbooks, after all. I rebelled. Oh, boy, did I rebel. Resentment and tears and tantrums followed me through my teens until finally, at the grand old age of sixteen, my parents allowed me to move schools – and move state.

I faced this revelation with a smile on my face. I bid my best friend goodbye, wrote a card for my teachers who had shook their heads at me with increasing desperation through my years of schooling, and jumped on a train to my new state. My new school. My new life.

Freedom.

I could practically taste the word in the air, in the way the tricolour flew above the train station as I hopped off the train, eager to see what my life would be like in this strange, strange city. The boards were written in a language I did not know, the locals spoke a spirited tongue, harsh and flowing at the same time, that I did not understand.

The prospect of adventure made me smile – a small, crooked, alive smile.

In this new environment, I not only survived. I thrived, I flourished, and I found myself.

Late as always, awkward as ever, I found myself saddled with the baggage of my first crush at the age of sixteen. Love notes and poems, stored in the secrecy of my new rental home (it seems I never got out of the habit of hiding things), written by a starry-eyed young woman experiencing the power of Kamadev for the first time.

He was cute, of course. And kind, and smart, and had the power to make my heart feel a thousand different ways. But it was only a crush. And so, as crushes tend to do, it passed.

I set away a part of my heart under the heading ‘Him’ and smiled for what I had found for the first time.

Imagine my surprise, when barely a year later I had my second crush. Yet more love notes, written in the hand of a seventeen-year-old finding her place in the world, scented with the slightest whiff of jasmine perfume, hidden beside ‘Him’ and labelled ‘Her’.

She, like the one that had come before, was cute, of course. And kind, and smart, and like him, she made my blush feel a thousand times more intense. But yet again, it was only a crush. And so, as crushes tend to do, it passed.

I confessed this to my best friend, expecting to see her smile fondly at me as she always did and gossip together about love and friendship and all the things that came with it. For her to tell me about her girlfriends and crushes.

She still smiled – and now I know better, I love her for that, all of her accepting, open-minded self – but it was more unsure, more careful.

I’ve never had a female crush. She told me, late at night. Not many do. That’s not to say it’s bad, or wrong. Some people are just like that, you know?

I had always thought that maybe God just intended for us to love everyone: male, female or anything, anyone in between. But alas, it was not so.

Thus, with the aid of my best friend, a dictionary and unreliable school Wi-Fi, I realised I was pansexual.

That same year, I attended my first pride festival. Amidst the hustle and bustle, the smiles and the waving flags, I found something that I had craved for my whole life.

I had found my own freedom.

@desi-lgbt-fest day 5 prompt!

[lemon-boy-stan]

“BETTY”

summary: you dated timothee in highschool, but broke up with him after you found out he cheated on you at a house party. now, in 2022, you’re a famous influencer on instagram, and timothee hosts a party where you need an invitation, as a way to get your attention. the guards let you in.  genre: angst, fluff. pairing: timothee chalamet x reader. a/n: this is based on the song “betty” by taylor swift, so i suggest listening to it while reading! also, this took me really long as i wrote it over several days, so i hope you guys like it! warnings: swearing, sexual refrences, slight makeout scenes, loves-me-loves-me-not vibes, lots of pining. 

“betty, i won’t make assumptions about why you changed your homeroom, but i think it’s because of me / betty, one time i was riding on my skateboard and i passed your house, it’s like i couldn’t breathe / you heard the rumors from inez, you can’t believe a word she says / most times, but this time it was true / the worst thing that i ever did was what i did to you”

FEBRUARY 2007, HIGHSCHOOL

The day they put you in the same class as your boyfriend, you were so happy that you couldn’t contain your emotions. It was your last year of highschool. Ever since you’d started dating Timmy, they never put you in the same class.

Sure, you’d have a few subjects together - art, maths, drama - but the only times you’d really get to hang out on campus were at break times, at recess and lunch. 

You’d called him as soon as you’d read the email, his face lighting up on the screen. “Can you believe it?” you threw your left hand up as you held your phone in the other hand, “I can’t believe it! They finally put us together! I'm actually excited to go to school for once!"

Timmy grinned and laughed at your enthusiasm before turning serious, making you frown as he pushed back his dark curls on his head. "Y/N," he spoke softly, "I need you to promise me something." and now you were frowning, too, "yeah? What is it, Tim?" and his face darkened as he choked out the words, "just. Just don't listen to anything that people say... about - about you, or - or about me... okay?" and your eyebrows furrowed together; you didn't think he was being serious, but you smiled, nodding, "okay! I promise."

Timothee sighed in relief before smiling again, “thank you. Okay, I love you, but I have to go. Do you want a ride to school?” you grinned before scowling, “not if it’s a ride on your stupid skateboard. I hate that thing.” and Timmy laughed, shaking his head, “no, I’ve learnt my lesson not to have two people on it. So, I’ll come pick you up soon. Okay, now I really have to go.” Then he turned to yell across his shoulder, “yeah, mum! I’m coming!” you giggled softly as the camera moved unstably and the screen cut to black.

You'd gotten dressed a lot faster than you usually did, making your mother surprised as she stood in the doorway of your room. "Hi, mum!" you grinned at her shocked face as you slid on a silver bracelet (you were always still in bed whenever she came to wake you up). 

Your mother frowned before laughing,  "good, you're awake and dressed. I was just going to yell at you to hurry up. There's a Timothee waiting outside for you." you rolled your eyes, "mum, you've known him since he was five." and your mum shrugged, "yes, but ever since he's started dating you I just don't trust him." You scowled before huffing, "Well, I do." and your mother smiled, moving to the side so that you could get through,  "you'd better get going, you don't want to be late on your first day." you grinned, "okay!" before. running up to the front door, nearly hitting the flower vase as you swung it open.

"Timmy!" Timothee laughed again as you burrowed into him. "Hi," he said softly, "hi, I love you." he spoke the words softly and inhaled your scent, making you smile into his black sweater, "I love you, too."  Timmy stroked your hair softly before taking your hand, "come on, let's go."

You didn't like to go on your phone in your boyfriend's car (he'd put the playlists of both your favourite songs on the radio and you'd sing your hearts out the entire drive) but as your phone buzzed, you couldn't help but look down at the message.

First of all, it was a completely random  message, from a completely random person on MySpace. Well, not someone completely random. The girl's name was Rachel, from the popular group at school. She was known for spreading a lot of rumours, so you were kind of scared as to why she, of all people, was talking to you.

princessrachell7: did he tell you yet?

You frowned at your  screen, typing back: "did who tell me what?" and three little dots appeared on the screen as Rachel typed: "did your boyfriend tell you about what happened at Isabel's party?" and now you were frowning even deeper as you wrote back, "no." and princessrachel17 said, "Well, i slept with him. We were kind of drunk. sorry ha ha" but she didn't sound sorry as you stared at your screen and your eyes filled with tears.

Timothee's car jerked forwards violently and he swore loudly at someone on the road before turning to you, "sorry about that. Someone just stopped and - hey. Hey, are you okay? Baby? What's wrong, sweetheart?" half of his attention was on you, another half on the road, but you knew that his thoughts were in another dimension. "Timmy," your throat was dry and your sight was  watery, "I need you to be serious with me." and he took your hand, turning down the music, "yeah, of course. What's wrong?" he'd arrived at school, but he'd stopped the car so the two of you could talk. You knew that people were watching, but people were always watching the pretty boy and the ugly girl.

The words finally came out as the tears began to spill, "Timmy. Did you. Rachel said - she told me on - on MySpace - that you - did you and Rachel sleep together at Isabel's party?" the last few words came out as a jumbled sentence, but you were positive that Timothee had heard it, and that it was true. Because otherwise, why would his face be slack, and why would he look like he'd seen a ghost?

Timothee went quiet, letting go of your hand as the tears fell from your cheeks. "Y/N," he began, in that tone that you knew was going to start an argument, in the tone he always used at the start of an argument, "please. Just listen. I swear..." he sighed heavily, "I swear I didn't mean to. I just... I drank a lot, and she was pretty... but she’s nothing compared to you. Please, can we please just talk about this?”

You narrowed your eyes and pursed your lips, “fine. If you want to ‘talk about it’, we can talk about it. So, how was she?” and Timothee sighed again, this time putting his head in his hands, his dark curls shaking. “I told you,” he said finally, “I don’t know. She was different, I guess -” different. The word stung. “Oh, yeah?” you brushed away a strand of your hair, “how different?” and Timmy sighed again, “I don’t know, but I know it wasn’t the same as you.” 

It was a nice sentiment, but you didn’t care. You were still upset, and you were still hurt. You rose up, forcing the tears to stop, slamming his father’s car door open, ripping off the silver Tiffany bracelet from your wrist, making Timothee flinch as you threw the birthday present on the leather seats of his car, the bangle dropping to the floor with a clatter. There were seven charms on the bracelet - seven charms, for the years you’d known him, two of them were special, because they represented the years you'd dated him, but the bracelet didn't matter anymore. You wouldn't be needing any more charms on it.

You slammed the door shut as you left, ignoring his pleading calls for you to return. You held your head high, walking as fast as you could in the black stilettos that your boyfriend had said looked pretty on you. You kept walking and walking until your foot twisted on the uneven road. You tried to get up, but you couldn't, and you were so glad that no one was around to see you fall. Everyone was in class.

Well, almost everyone.

Timothee ran out of the car as soon as he saw you fall and heard you cry out in pain. He wished he could be by your side sooner, but he got there as fast as he could. Timothee pulled you into his arms and sushed you as you cried, gently rubbing your ankle.

Normally, you would've continued to let him comfort you, continued to drown in his grasp... but today, you didn't. Because today, he wasn't your boyfriend anymore, and he wasn't your best friend, either. Today, he was just a guy who'd cheated on you; a complete stranger.

Even though you were in pain, you pushed Timothee away and shoved him off. You ignored your ankle, just like how you ignored the distraught expression on his face.

Even though you were stubborn and tried your best to pretend that he wasn't there, Timothee was persistent. "Y/N," he called after you, "Y/N, wait, come back! Where are you going?" and you whirled around at him, tears spilling from your eyes furiously as you glared at him, "to change my homeroom." the words stung, but they didn't sting as badly as seeing you in so much pain stung.

Timothee sighed softly, watching as you walked out of his life.

"but if i showed up at your party, would you have me, would you want me? / would you tell me to go fuck myself or lead me to the garden? / in the garden / would you trust me / if i told you / it was just a summer thing? / i'm only seventeen / i don't know anything / but i know i miss you."

MARCH 2007, HIGHSCHOOL

It had been a month since you'd broken up with Timothee. You dropped out of drama, and changed the subject to another creative arts elective, media, where you learnt how to make films and movies. The lessons took your mind off things for a while; as did your friends, who supported you and became extremely anti-Timothee, making jokes about him and calling him names like ‘Traitor Tim’ or ‘Hell Hal’, after his middle name.

They even made you feel excited about your birthday, which was kind of funny, because you’d thought the thing you would dread the most was your birthday, seeing as Timothee had kissed you on the date two years ago, but as it began to get closer, you were beginning to feel just a little bit better. 

Your birthday was on a Thursday this year, and your friends were planning the party with you. You shook your head as they discussed it over recess. “I’m not inviting him, Claire! I don’t want to see him on my birthday.” Claire rolled her eyes but sighed, “okay, fine.” but your other friend, Eliza, shook her head; “no, you should invite him. Everyone else is invited, even Rachel. I would hate to be in his position.” so you sighed, “fine, whatever.” you hastily put the envelope back in the pile.

Timothee had found out about the party before retrieving the invitation from his mailbox. His new girlfriend, Rachel, had texted him about it. 

Rachel was kind of like Timothee’s rebound girl, but he wasn’t sure if he saw her as a girlfriend. He knew that Rachel saw him as a boyfriend, but even when they had sex together, Timothee just didn’t feel anything special. 

He didn’t want to date Rachel anymore. He wanted to go to Y/N’s party, to see how she was doing, but he wasn’t sure if Y/N even wanted him there in the first place. He’d been cut off by her family, completely exiled. He always knew Y/N’s mother didn’t like him, but her dad had always liked him. Now they all hated him - over a stupid, drunken mistake.

Timothee groaned as he threw the invitation across the room, the room which still smelt of Y/N, which still reminded him of Y/N. 

He had so many of her things in here: the silver bracelet, the expensive Tiffany bracelet he’d gotten her for her fifteenth birthday, the DIY photo album full of polaroid photos she’d made for him for Christmas, the photo from when they were kids and the same photo they’d re-made last year on the shelf right next to it, another photo of them when they were five, sitting on Santa’s lap, another photo from a New Year’s Eve party, where he used the night as an excuse to kiss her for the very first time... the list was endless, and it wasn’t full of just photos.

Timothee groaned again, throwing his head up, fisting his curls frustratedly, “fuck.” because he was still in love with her, he knew that now. Why else wouldn’t he have any feelings for Rachel? Why else wouldn’t he have chucked all of Y/N’s things away already? That’s exactly why you can’t go to her party, Timothee thought to himself, because you’ll just make things worse.

“betty, i know where it all went wrong / your favourite song was playing from / the far side of the gym / i was nowhere to be found / i hate the crowds / you know that / plus, i saw you dance with him / you heard the rumors from inez, you can’t believe a word she says / most times / but this time / it was true / the worst thing that i ever did / was what i did to you.”

APRIL 2007, THE HOMECOMING DANCE, HIGHSCHOOL

Timothee still couldn’t believe what Rachel had told him. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to believe it: that Y/N, his Y/N, had a boyfriend. A different boyfriend, a boyfriend who wasn’t him. The rumor was that they’d met at her part-time job, and he had just graduated from school. The only reason that Timothee had gone to the dance this year was because he’d found out that Y/N was taking her new boyfriend as her date.

You smiled softly, pulling Adam close to you. Adam Park was a pretty boy with dark hair, pale skin, and green eyes. His father was Korean, and his mother was Italian. Adam was sweet and kind, tall and smart. He was funny, too. Your friends made fun of you because he was almost exactly like Timothee, except that his hair wasn’t curly. 

Okay, so maybe Adam was a rebound. Maybe you were hoping to run into Timothee “accidentally”, to show off your new handsome boyfriend, just like how Timothee had started dating Rachel a few months ago after you’d broken up with him, but you doubted that Timothee would even make an appearance. The only year you’d ever seen him at a dance was the year you’d started dating him. Timothee never went to these dances, because he despised the large crowds of people. Rachel was here, but she didn’t have a date.

You tried not to sound so disappointed as Adam brought you over to the dance floor. It’s my favourite song, you thought to yourself, I should try to smile. So you smiled as you let Adam sway you to the beat of the music... but then time stopped. Not because Adam was going to kiss you, but because Timothee had decided to show his face at the dance. He had moved to a corner, and was trying to blend in to the colours of the gym’s walls, earphones in. Even though he was just wearing a dark hoodie, you could spot him anywhere.

And then time moved again. Your heart became cold, and your eyes narrowed, even as you smiled. You didn’t feel sad anymore. You felt like a bitch. And bitches, well... they kissed guys in front of their ex boyfriends, just to make them jealous. Because sometimes, they still loved their ex boyfriends. 

Timothee blinked as he saw Y/N pull Adam close, a smile on her face. He frowned, because he knew that it wasn’t a real smile. This was a fake smile, a smile that was pursed as it reached her ears. This was a smile that was forced. This was a smile - Timothee flinched as time itself stopped. Not because he’d seem something scary, but because he’d seen something painful. Because he’d seen her kiss him. Y/N kissed Adam, her new boyfriend, a boyfriend who she didn’t even look in love with. 

As Timothee slunk away from the party, retreating back to his house and into  his bedroom, tears began to swell up in his eyes. Why did she kiss him? Why did she kiss him? Why did she - CRASH. There was blood on Timothee’s hands. He looked down at the floor, where shards of glass lay scattered and broken on the ground, the picture frame that had been holding the Santa photo shattered on the carpet. Timothee stared at the photograph before sliding down against his bookshelf and sobbing, his head shoved into his hands, the blood, sweat, and tears dripping down his clothes.

“you heard the rumors from inez / you can’t believe a word she says / most times / but this time it was true / the worst thing that i ever did / was what i did to you / but if i showed up at your party / would you have me / would you want me / would you tell me to go fuck myself / or lead me to the garden? / in the garden / would you trust me / if i told you / it was just a summer thing / i’m only seventeen / i don’t know anything / but i know i miss you / i was walking home / on broken cobblestones / just thinking of you / when she pulled through / like a figment of / my worst intentions / she said, “james, get in,” / “let’s drive,” / those days turned in / to nights / slept / next to her / but / i dreamt of you / all summer long.”

MAY 2007, HIGHSCHOOL

Timothee walked on the road back home, listening to yn's playlist on his new l-Pod, his girlfriend's red bug screeching over to the curve.

"Timmy!" he hated the way she said his name. Rachel smiled at him, her blonde, whispy hair blowing out the window as she lifted her sunglasses, her green eyes blinding him. "What are you walking for? Come on, babe! Let's go somewhere!"

Babe, thought Timothee bitterly to himself, that's what Y/N used to call me before you came along. But he got in anyway, and as he took out his earphones, with Rachel's car playing an indie mixtape, Timothee forgot about everything bad that had happened.

Soon, he and Rachel had crashed their lips together, their bodies tangling under the hot Summer sun. But as Rachel squirmed beneath him, Timothee didn't see her at all. He saw Y/N, the entire time.

"betty, i'm here on your doorstep / and i've planned it out for years now / but it's finally sinking in / betty, right now / is the last time / i can dream about / what happens when / you see my face again / the only thing / i wanna do / is make it up to you."

JANUARY 2022, PRESENT DAY

Timothee was sure that you'd forgotten about him by now, but he definetly hadn't forgotten about you.

It was a warm day, and he was back in New York, and was outside your apartment at the buzzer on the doorstep. There were people staring at him, but he didn’t care. There were always people staring at him. His agent had found your address. Ever since he’d seen you in an interview (you were a well-known social media influencer), Timothee had fallen in love with you.

He watched all of your videos and all your interviews. He never missed a single post on social media, although he secretly hoped that you didn’t know that he was following your accounts, because he was pretty sure you hated him.

It had been nine years since he’d seen you, nine years since you’d broken up with him and moved houses, changing schools completely. It was his fault, he knew that now. It was his fault that you’d shut him off, and his fault that he didn’t have you in his life anymore. He’d spent nine years without you, and he was a mess.

He tried to imagine what would happen if you let him up. Would you start to cry? Would you yell at him? Would you throw something at him and tell him to fuck off? Would you panic? Or would you be happy that he was there? Would you smile and cry and say you loved him? Or would you slam the door in his face? 

Timothee shook his head, exhaling shakily before turning away. Then he left, walking anywhere his feet would take him. 

You stared out the window, looking down at the boy with curly dark hair. You knew who he was. Hell, everyone knew who he was. Timothee Chalamet. A famous actor, a famous award-winning actor. People knew him, but they didn’t know him like you did. They didn’t know the sad boy who would always be happy for you, the boy who loved you better than you loved yourself. 

But he was also the boy who left you, the boy who chose someone else over you. And yet here he was, standing outside your apartment, a bundle of flowers in his hand. A bundle of your favourite flowers, although you didn't know how he'd still remembered. Then again, he'd never missed a single of your posts, so of course he remembered.

But then you saw him leave, saw him walk away, taking the flowers with him, keeping his head low. And you didn't mean to, but you began to cry, shoulders shaking as the tears fell from your cheeks.

"the only thing / i wanna do / is make it up / to you. / so i showed up at your party / yeah, i showed up at your party / will you have me? / will you love me?"

Timothee sighed heavily, scrolling through his Instagram feed. It was you. He knew that now. It had always been you, you and never Rachel. He looked at you, smiling up at the screen, a puppy in your arms.

It was a black and white Pomeranian, and his name was Christopher. Timothee had always said Christopher was a stupid name for a dog. That was probably why you called it that, though Timothee doubted that you either cared about or remembered him anymore.

He'd bumped into you at the coffee shop down the road. You'd known who he was, but it didn't appear that you'd remembered who he was. Timothee wasn't so sure. In highschool, you had an incredible memory, always being able to remember facts and things other people said. You could memorize song lyrics, movie lines, and even the things from your childhood that most people would forget.

He was positive that surely you remembered something about him - or you pretended not to know him. He knew you weren't following his Instagram, but you were only following three people.

But today, after the puppy interview, he knew he needed to get your attention; he just couldn't figure out how.

Timothee sighed again, staring at your Instagram profile. Another post caught his eye, an older post. You were at a gala, partying with your friends in a big ballroom. And Timothee smiled. That was how he was going to get your attention.

After seeing him in the coffee shop, you wanted to pretend that you didn't care about him. That you didn't know who he was. Hell, you'd spent nine years pretending he didn't exist, even though a you'd seen his face all over the internet.

But now you'd seen him again, in real life, not in an article or movie trailer. And it did things to your heart you never wanted it to do. You started remembering things you'd thought you'd forgotten, things you'd forced yourself to forget... the good and the bad things, the small and the big things.

You searched for him in your followers to get your facts right. Not about who he was, but if he knew who you were, if he remembered who you were. You watched all his interviews. You watched all his movies, even though you'd always avoided watching them in the past.

You started listening to his music again, on the old I-Pod you'd stolen from him, which was the only thing of his you still had. You checked his posts every day even though you didn't follow him. He didn't post much.

That was when your phone went off - as you lay in your bed, eating pretzels and apple sauce, watching one of his latest movies, Dune. It was an Instagram notification. You had a thousand more followers than you'd had yesterday, and three texts from your friend Claire.

Christopher sat at the foot of your bed, whining as you paused the film, almost as if he didn't want Timothee to go. You cocked your head, "I'm just replying to Claire," but the Pomeranian huffed like he didn't believe you.

It appeared that Claire was freaking out. She'd sent a video link and two other texts, "THE PUPPIES ARE SO CUTE." and then, "HE HAS A CRUSH ON YOU? OH MY GOD SO JEALOUS WHAT" it was the second text that caught you off-guard, causing you to click on the video link, a Buzzfeed interview.

He was pretty. His dark curls fell into place all over his pale, almost porcelain skin, dark eyes glinting mischievously. You were paying more attention to the movie than the interview, but then he said something that made you look back down.

Timothee unfolded the piece of paper as he played with the three baby Labradors. He looked at it and said, "celebrity crush? Oh, I'm not too sure. I mean, I guess if I had to choose, I'd say maybe Y/N. No, I don't know her that well, but I've seen her stuff and I think she's got a nice personality. Also, I guess... she's kind of cute?" then he talked to the puppies and moved on to another question.

And Claire sent you another text. "OH MY GOD. MY PRODUCTION TEAM JUST TOLD ME. YOUR BF'S THROWING A MASSIVE PARTY. VERY EXCLUSIVE. YOU SHOULD GO!" you thought that maybe, just maybe, the party was a coincidence. It was probably another cast party for Dune.

But then again, said the little voice in your head, what if it wasn't?

The same entity that spoke in your head made your fingers move unwillingly, replying to Claire's message in a way that you didn't want to. "OMG! MAYBE I WILL GO. Can you send me the details?" and Claire replied just as enthusiastically as she had texted you, "yes, of course, babes! Go get your man."

And suddenly you regretted replying to Claire.

"will you kiss me on the porch / in front of all your stupid friends / if you kiss me / will it be just like i dreamed it? / will it patch your broken wings? / i'm only seventeen / i don't know anything / but i know i miss you."

It was finally Friday. The guests began to arrive at midnight. Timothee didn't really like parties, but he knew Y/N did. Hopefully, word had spread, and hopefully, she would show up.

But it was almost two o'clock now, and the party ended at three. He'd asked security to tell him if she came, but obviously she hadn't.

It'd taken you at least three hours to get ready, only ten minutes to get there, and of course, you were late.

You spent another six minutes in your car outside the function, pretending to fix your lashes, while you were actually worying if you should go or not.

At two thirty you got your shit together. There were guards outside the function area, and you'd only realised they were talking to you the second time they'd adressed you. "Miss, if you don't have an invitation we need to see some ID. If you could just tell us your name and show us your card we'd be happy to let you in. The host is more than accepting of certain - Miss, are you sure you're alright?"

"Oh," you blinked, having seen Timothee looking out the window of the second floor; his back was turned but it was definetley him, "oh, right. Sorry. My name... Y/N. Here..." you fumbled to get your ID, your nails a bit too long to function with. Finally, you got the clasp open, sliding the card out from your wallet.

The guards examined it for a while before exchanging glances. One of them went into the building and the other two stepped aside. There was still that doubtful feeling where you would never accept how successful you'd become. "Enjoy the party."

The formalities of the The evening had long gone disappeared. The big chandelier from the ceiling glittered like a kaleidoscope as the expensive people as the expensive people swayed to the beat of the music, feasting on small portions of finger foods.

Normally you would join them all on the dance floor, but this time you didn't. You knew Timothee hated parties. It was another reason you went; he knew you liked them. In highschool, Timothee always threw big parties for your birthday but hated when you threw parties for his birthday. Even the night with Rachel, you'd learnt he was at her party as a chaperone for his friends. One of his other friends ended up being the designated driver that night.

Timothee had escaped to the balcony. It was too loud downstairs, and there were too many bright lights. He was scrolling through his phone when one of theguards approached him. Timothee sighed, "it's fine if something's broken. No one's sick, are they?" and the guard shook his head. "It's Y/N. She's here."

Timothee's stomach flipped, "where?" following the guard down the stairs. There were two sets of staircases. One on the left side of the ballroom, and the other on the right. You'd seen Timothee on the left side of the second story, so you made your way over to that staircase, but you couldn't find him anywhere. As you made your way back down, doubt began to settle in your body.

Maybe your friend had gotten it wrong. Maybe it wasn't even Timothee's party to begin with. Or maybe it was his party, but he'd gotten his PR team to host it and was actually just chilling at home, eating pretzels in applesauce and laughing at how stupid you were to actually believe him. You shouldn't have taken him seriously. Not the guy who'd cheated on you....

"Y/N." his voice cut through your heart. You didn't even have to see him to know who he was. You knew just from the way he said your name. You'd told yourself you would forget it, and yet here you were, falling deep into every syllable. His name escaped softly from your mouth as you looked up to meet his eyes, stepping down so you were at his level. "Timothee."

You tried to look away, but he pulled you gently towards him. And you knew it was coming, but you were still shocked as he pressed his lips against yours, the action sending tears down your cheeks. He gripped you tight as if he were afraid you might break, would he ever let go. "I'm sorry," he said finally, "I love you." and you put your head into his neck, "I love you too."

you can find my timothee fics beneath fics for the marauders here!

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[identitty-dickruption]

recovered; present tense

I’m relearning how to be safe; how to be a person in a world where I don’t wake up in the middle of the night with a pounding heart, my hands don’t shake every time I leave the house, and my eyes don’t search for threats whenever something moves in my periphery. Nobody tells you that safety is something that requires practice. That is, nobody tells you until you end up spending the best part of your life in trauma recovery. 

After all this time, “trauma” still feels like too big of a word for what happened to me and around me and through me. Trauma feels like a word reserved for veterans. For people who have returned from war, or at the very least some kind of “real” violence. It doesn’t feel quite right to describe my experiences as traumatic, when so many others have been through so much worse. 

After all this time, “trauma” feels like too small of a word for how shattered I have become. It can’t even come close to describing the way that survival became my entire lifestyle. It’s such a little word for such a massive change in my world. Two syllables, six letters, and a lifetime of pressing my back against the wall so that nobody can come up behind me. It doesn’t feel quite right to describe my experiences as traumatic, when so many others have been so much more fortunate.

I’m relearning how to be safe. Now that many of the physical symptoms are gone, I almost feel a kind of post-trauma trauma. I almost need a new kind of therapist to teach me how to have a personality again. I can’t go back to being the pre-trauma version of myself. They’re long gone. It wouldn’t feel right to reimagine myself as the kind of person who never went through trauma in the first place. I’ve discarded everything from the hobbies I used to love to the music I used to listen to. They were discarded when my entire life became recovery, but even now that I’ve “recovered”, well… That skin doesn’t fit quite right anymore. 

The days seem to stretch out for kilometres. Every moment feels endless when you don’t know who you are anymore. In trauma recovery, I learnt to live a values-based life. But a list of values doesn’t bring me any closer to knowing who I am. I carefully type some words into Google.

How do I know who I am?

List of personality traits

Personality quiz

None of it seems to help. Every question on the personality quizzes seems to beg for a degree of insight that would solve the very conundrum that led me to the quiz. I don’t know if I prefer being around people or being alone, because that decision was informed by trauma for so long. I don’t know if I prefer to be organised because organisation keeps me safe, or because that’s just how I am. Every question opens up a million more questions that I don’t know if I’ll ever have the answers to. 

I’m back to sitting on the outside of my own body. Dissociation. I think through the list of activities I’m supposed to do when something like this happens. Deep breaths. Counting the number of things I can see of each colour of the rainbow. Squeezing my own arms to remind myself that I’m real. Nothing immediately returns my brain to my body, but everything helps a little. Maybe I’m not quite as recovered as I thought. Or maybe recovery means learning how to make my trauma a smaller piece of my mosaic. Maybe I’ll always feel it to some degree, just slightly less sharp with each passing year.

I respond to a meme one of my friends sent me.

I check my calendar to make sure there’s nothing I’m supposed to be doing right now.

I strap my dog into her harness.

We walk.

I’m relearning how to be a person again. Walking through my neighbourhood with my dog provides more lessons than I expect. The sun is bright. The wind is cold. I guess it must be just past three, because kids are hitting the streets from the direction of the local school. They smile at my dog, and I smile back. I let a small group of the kids pat my dog. They thank me, and I wish them a good afternoon. These kids have no reason to doubt that I’m a person. And maybe that’s all that matters right now.