their careers just started and they're doing fine apart, but when the past comes up they figure that neither one of them wanted to be apart despite the rocky end
social media and real life
female oc x timothée chalamet
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timothée chalamet, i am SO proud of you. you make me so happy all the time and i am in awe of all that you do. you have accomplished so much this year and you are doing so much that i'm proud of, you're working so hard all the time and throwing yourself into roles. you are my beautiful, smart, accomplished, masterful, incredible boy. i love you.
tagged: tchalamet
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Ivy and Timothée arrived back at their hotel room after The Oscars and all the after parties exhausted. Timothée had fallen asleep in the car home while Ivy worked on an Instagram post for him.
They stood in the elevator waiting for it to carry them to the 12th floor. Ivy's hair was now in two messy french braids that she asked Timothée to do to get it out of her face. Timothée's hair was now crazy and flying every which way and had changed into a black button up and black jeans for after partying.
"Hey," Timothée breathed out and turned to look at Ivy.
"Hi, you." She said back and looked at him while slumped against the wall of the elevator.
He held his arms out for a hug and Ivy accepted. She held him tightly as if she was trying to keep him from floating away. "I love you," She said with a sniffle and a year she didn't realize was falling down her cheek.
"Hey hey hey," Timothée said quickly and pulled the hug away. "Ivy what's wrong?" His face was full of worry and concern for Ivy.
"I'm scared that somehow we'll get torn apart again." She said looking up at him through her eyelashes. "That you're going to go off for Henry VIII and I'll never see you and we play phone tag and loose touch. Or that I'll get stuck in Milan and Paris and suddenly fall in love with some Parisian model or something."
"That won't happen." He told her flat out. "I won't let it and you won't let it. Because I'll be at all your runways and it's worked out that you could maybe live in London with me for Henry VIII, we might never have to leave eachother for more than a week."
The elevator pinged and opened, they were at their floor. Timothée picked up Ivy, bridal style, and walked her to their room door. She pulled out her key and opened the door and he carried her to the bed and placed her down, he was over her on all fours.
"I felt like a bride." Ivy said with a smile.
"We could even get married." Timothée joked.
"Oh not right now, if you're proposing now isn't a good time. I'm not in the mood, maybe in an hour." Ivy smiled, "I'd love to be your wife, in a month or something. Propose at Coachella." She laughed at her own Coachella joke.
"I'll keep it in mind. I do have other plans for right now though." Timothée said smirking.
"I'm really hoping we're on the same page I really want to see you shirtless."
"If Postmates and TV is what you're talking about then yes."
"Can I take your shirt off though?" Ivy said playing with the buttons on his shirt.
Timothée smiled, "If that's what makes you happy."
Ivy gave him a huge smile, "Very." She shoved him over so she was sitting on top of him undoing the buttons on his shirt while he talked about what food to order until they landed on some place called Paru. He placed the order and now they had to wait.
"We're you serious about fashion weeks and London?" Ivy asked him while taking off her dress and stealing one of Timothée's hoodies.
"Completely, I don't want to leave you for so long again." He yelled from the bathroom. "I hate wearing makeup, blegk!"
"Welcome to my world, babe! I'd really want to but what about Bailey?" Ivy questioned walking towards the bathroom in their huge hotel suite to wash her face.
"I start in June so he'll be done or finishing up school, we can also fly him out for summer if he wants." He responded while Ivy walked in. "Or Ingrid and Kaia will be there."
"Ingrid and Kaia are maybe going to move here, to LA." Ivy sighed, "They've wanted to for a while, and Ingrid is from The Bay and she wants to be closer to home. I don't want them to leave but I'm almost never in The City anymore and Bailey is going to College soon." Ivy watched Timothée in the mirror while he wiped of the rest of his makeup and threw the cotton round in the trash.
"Its a smart move to move here, honestly." Timothée walked over to Ivy and snaked his arms around Ivy from behind while she washed her face. He nuzzled his face into her neck.
"Hi curly boy," Ivy said smiling and running one of her hands through his hair while she put on moisturizer with the other hand. "Wait, so about the marriage thing..that want you trying to propose was it?"
Timothée took his head out of her neck and put his chin on her shoulder, "It could be if you want it to, I do like the Coachella idea though."
"I mean," Ivy put dots of drying lotion on her face, "I don't think we need to be married, it would be fun I think, I like the idea although it is weird and a little sexist."
"We are young, we could just be engaged and never be married until we feel ready."
"But I expect it to be grand and funny and fun. I like the engagement thing, be perpetually engaged until we feel ready and want it to happen."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Did we just agree to be engaged at some point, but not now?"
"I think so." Ivy smiled and raised her eyebrows.
"I like that," Timothée said and smiled back.
"Me too," she said and turned around and put one hand on his face and one on his face and kissed him. He kissed back moving his hands to pick her up and sit her on the sink.
Their middle school make out was interrupted by Timothée's phone ringing with their Postmates announcing its arrival. "I'll be right back," Timothée said and put on a shirt that was lying on the floor and ran down to get their food.
