#my simbar ff

[deliverydefresas]

moving step by step (together)

second and last thing i posted on wp that i haven't posted here ((i think)) feel free to ignore if you've read this on wattpad already, as i'm just posting it in case i need to refer to it later.

(not proofread. it never is)

prompt(?): domestic!simbar deciding to move in together (toanothercountry)

When her day began, she didn't imagine it'd end up the way it did. In fact, to Ámbar the day felt like an endless nightmare.

Between her washing machine breaking, one of her kitchen cloths accidentally catching on fire when she was making her breakfast, her car not starting and thus being late to her first class, forgetting an important paper at home and losing 1/5 of her grade for one of the toughest classes in her semester; Ámbar just wanted to call it a day and forget she even had to endure it.

"The professor told me he'd let me turn it the paper, as long as I added 10,000 words more; and hear this: he won't give me the 20% of the grade, but a 15%, tops." She still needed to get her laundry done, so she'd opted to come by Simón's loft (and Nico and Pedro's too) when her classes had ended. While she waited for it to be done, she'd grabbed a glass of wine while venting her boyfriend's ears off. "So now I need to find something to write about that's worth 1000 words of coherency, otherwise I'll be lucky to even have a 10%. And God knows I need it."

Simón kissed her head sympathetically, adjusting her head - previously leaning on his shoulder- a little bit closer to his neck. "You will, little gem. You're the smartest one in your class, I'm sure you'll find something and, it's penultimate semester, you can do it."

She groaned, "I wish it were as easy as that." He kissed her cheek this time, and she snuggled into him a bit more, needing his support to make her feel less stressed. "Enough of me, how was your day?"

He chuckled, "not as interesting as yours, I'm afraid. Did a little songwriting, had a video-call with a magazine, changed my sheets..." he winked at her, making her laugh.

"Aw, do you want me to give you a gold start? Maybe I should call your mom, tell her her little boy is a nice young man who makes his own bed." Simón leaned in to bite her cheek, causing her to and almost spill her wine all over the couch, and to prevent this, the red liquid ended up on her shirt. Technically, it was one of his, since today's clothes had been thrown in the washer with the rest of the laundry, but still, spilling wine on her clothes wasn't nice. "Simón!" she scoffed him, which only made him laugh at her. He told her to grab another of his old shirts, while he refilled her glass.

She stood up then, cursing him all the way to his room to grab one of the 'pajama' shirts he kept in his top drawer. Ámbar heard him call to her once she had put it on; "hey, is tacos okay with you for dinner? Or do you want me to order you something else?"

"What are the guys having?" she questioned, to prepare herself in case the others ordered less than what their stomachs wanted to eat, and later lead them to steal her food.

"Pedro's staying at Delfi's and Nico is out with his fling, so nothing." Simón answered her, entering his room with his cellphone at hand.

"Then the usual." She told him simply, her boyfriend nodded. "Hey, can I use your laptop to check my e-mail? My phone died."

Simón nodded again. "Sure. Hello? I would like to order two pastor gringas..." he left the room again, not before pointing at his desk, where his laptop was sitting on. She quickly turned it on, taking it to the living room to wait for Simón to finish the call.

Her boyfriend was one of those people who didn't put a password on the device itself, but on the archives in it (which were mostly lyrics, tracks, and unreleased songs), so it didn't take long until she had the browser opened.

Ámbar tried to ignore whatever Simón had open in his last tab, but the images displayed caught her attention.

No, it wasn't porn, nor was it anything compromising. At least not in that way.

Her boyfriend had a Real Estate website open, showing apartments in sale. However, that wasn't what surprised her – he'd talked about finding his own place before-, but that all the options listed Mexico City as their location.

He'd never mentioned moving back to Mexico. They'd planned vacations to his hometown Cancún, sure, but somehow in all their talks about the future she'd had assumed their plans took place in Buenos Aires, close to her family instead of his. She could deal with him going on tour for weeks – she didn't bear months as well as she did weeks, and for this he always flew her in- but to live in two different countries? How was their relationship supposed to work in that scenario? Would it even work out? Sure, she was almost over with her degree, but-

"Little gem," her eyes snapped from the screen to where Simón was standing, by the kitchen's door, "I ordered you an almond horchata, is that okay?" she kept staring at him. "What? Is my laptop giving you problems? Your mail?"

She sighed. "No, I actually haven't opened my mail yet." He gave her a confused look.

"Then what's it? You've been staring at the screen for at least two minutes."

"When were you planning on telling me you're moving to Mexico?"

His mouth shut, his eyes showed surprise and an underlying regret. "Uh... soon?"

"So it's true, then? You're moving there?" Ámbar didn't want her voice to sound as hurt as it did, but she couldn't conceal it, either. After all, this was her boyfriend, the guy she was in love with, and who she'd loved for years now... to imagine him living so far away from her, it hurt her deeply.

To find out like this, instead of from his own mouth, was like salt to the wound. Her already shitty day was turning for the worse.

Simón sighed, his demeanor showing he was ashamed of it. "It's an option." He pursed his lips slightly, walking over to the couch, taking the device off her lap to turn her body towards him. "I was planning on talking to you about this sooner than later, I promise."

"When? When you had already bought it? Or when I had to say goodbye at the airport?" she couldn't help but dab at him, her temper was talking for her right then, "and what do you mean with 'it's an option'? You're looking for a place already, surely it's more than simple 'option'."

Simón let out a sigh, a sign he wasn't sure how to explain it to her, "I- have you noticed how most of our label meetings have been taking place in México?" She nodded, it was hard not to. The boys and him didn't really leave the city unless they absolutely had to, which could be summed up in three reasons: touring, vacations, and meetings. She'd always frown a little when those meetings took place, because she couldn't really understand why they had to leave when their label had offices in BsAs, but never really dared to ask Simón, afraid she'd come out as clingy for not wanting him to leave her for a couple days.

"I just assumed all the 'important' people chose to meet there instead of flying down here."

He scratched his nape. "It's a little bigger than that. Their HQ has always been up there, and their offices here have worked on a smaller scale for years; however, they've wanted all their more... 'recognizable' artists to be closer for a while now."

"So, they're making you move there?"

"Yes and no. They've been nagging us since the beginning to move to Mexico City, but it's only now we've – well, I've- considered it as an option."

"Why? Don't Pedro and Nico want, too?"

Simón grimaced. "They've already been considering it for a couple of years." Oh. Now that she thought about it, Delfina had hinted multiple times over the months 'the possibility' of working in another country. She'd always assumed she meant taking international jobs for a short period while Pedro was out on tour too, but now she guessed she'd meant for her to imagine that possibility, too.

It seemed like she'd assumed lots of things, and it stung to know she'd been in the dark far longer than everyone else. Even Delfi – who'd been dating Pedro a considerably less time than she'd been with Simón- knew of this before her.

Which made her ask him once again. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because you're still in uni, little gem, and I didn't want to move somewhere else while you were here; I still don't. I had a plan, honestly; I was going to wait until you neared graduation to slowly get you used to the idea, and, well, I also wanted to wait in case we didn't work out." She pursed her lips as she was still mad, but knew he had a point. He always did.

"You could've talked to me sooner, though. We could've planned this way sooner, make it easier for both." Ámbar sighed out, trying to get her anger out with it.

"I know, I get it now, and I'm very sorry." He apologized sincerely, grabbing one of her hands to kiss it. "This in no way is me telling you I'm moving tomorrow and leaving you here, little gem, I'd never do that. Hell, I don't even think I could. It's just..."

"An option." She finished for him, sighing again. "I guess I- I don't know, maybe I could start looking at internships in CDMX? When- when would this take place anyway? And I have to talk to my mo-" her eyes widened, "God, my mom! What do I tell her if we go? She'll be all alone here!" Her voice sounded panicky even to her.

"Hey, it's okay, there's no hurry. We've already postponed this for years with the boys, another year or so won't change anything, in fact, we'll need all we can get to get papers and stuff in check. And your mom can always come with us if you're worried about her, no biggie." He told her, as if the three of them moving countries wasn't a big deal, or, y'know, extremely expensive.

"Do you seriously want my mom living with us, Simón?" she snapped at him, and immediately felt bad to do so. He was just trying to help her and then here she was, bitching on his offers. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just... overwhelmed, sorry." He shrugged it off.

"I was actually thinking of you two getting your own apartment but since you're oh so kindly offering to live together..." Her eyes widened once more, shocked. She hadn't realized she'd implied that. "... I guess we can either buy or rent one for ourselves and rent another for your mom."

"That's not what- I mean it's not necessary. An apartment for my mom and I would be okay if she even agrees to move."

Her boyfriend started pouting. "Are you saying you don't want to move in with me?"

"No, no, that's not what I mean-" she stopped talking once she saw a teasing grin on his face. "You're messing with me."

He shook his head, silently laughing as he reached out to sit her on his lap, hugging her waist tightly. "I'm not. I'm actually happy you asked me to move with you, so I don't have to when the time comes."

"I didn't ask you." She felt the need to point it out. "You just assumed I did."

"Because you assumed we'd live together. It's okay; if it were up to me I'd be living with you in a heartbeat, I've thought about it for a while."

She gulped. "You have?"

"Yeah, but since I'm living with two dudes and you're living with your mom... it just isn't viable." That got her thinking.

"Why haven't you gotten your own apartment yet? Any of you?"

Simón shrugged, leaning into their coffee table to grab their glasses. "Rent is cheaper when you divide into three, and all of us have been saving up to get our own pads for when we moved to CDMX."

"It was never a matter of 'if', was it? It was always a 'when' you moved." She already knew the answer, of course, so she didn't wait for him to answer. "What took you so long to do so? I'm sure you could've done so years ago, and now you're waiting for Delfi and I, I guess, but before? What held you back?"

He pondered it for a minute, didn't speak immediately. "Something always came up. At first, we didn't have enough money saved, then Nico's mom had an accident, Pedro wanting to stay until his little sister finished high school... then you. My guess is the universe was waiting for us to meet to let me leave the city." She couldn't help but laugh at this.

"You're such a corny guy."

"Only for you, little gem, only for you." Ámbar took a sip of her wine before snuggling closer to his chest, earning her a kiss on her hair. "So, are we doing this?"

She pushed the anxiety of the unknown to the back of her mind, she knew that if she overthought about it she'd find reasons not to. Instead, she took a deep breath, intoxicating herself with the smell of soap and lotion that lingered on her boyfriend all the time.

"Yeah," she sighed, "but we're doing this together."

"Together," he repeated, giving her hand another kiss. "I like the sound of that."

#soy luna #simbar #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #my simbar ff #my sl ff #mine

[still-love-the-moon]

Throne Of Lies: Ámbar Smith + Thank you, next

#throne of lies #my ff #ambar smith #simon alvarez #ambar x simon #simon x ambar #simbar #otp: the ámbar i know would to the right thing #thiago costa #ambar x thiago #thiago x ambar #ambiago #otp: you shine #tommy vargas #tommy x ambar #ambar x tommy #tambar #brotp: remember me when the sun goes down #tol #soy Luna #sou luna #soy Luna ff #sou Luna ff #soy Luna fanfic

[mylutteoheart]

I love your fanfics💛 I was wondering if you could write something about Ambar being jealous of the friendship between Luna and Simon + Simbar, of course😏

Thank you so much for the compliment.

Here’s your request. Hope you like it.

find my otherr fics here

Jealousy And Confusion

Ámbar wentto Roller after school, just like always. Right now, the only thing she wantedto do was skate after this rough day. But first she wanted to order a drink, itwas a pretty hot day so she was thirsty. But when she walked into the cafeteria,something happened to her, something she never thought would overcome her.

She sawLuna and Simón sitting at a table, laughing about a joke one of them made. He seemedso happy with her. When she saw them smile at each other, she felt like someonehad punched in her stomach. She started feeling something but she didn’t knowwhat it exactly was.

She watchedthem with a look of disgust on her face. She didn’t she was making this faceuntil Delfi asked her what was going on.

“Nothing, Ijust can’t believe that they’re friends. But maybe they found each otherbecause they’re at the same level” she told her friend with a tone full ofdisapproval. She couldn’t hide her negativity towards the two friends.

“Are yousure that you’re okay?” Delfi insisted.

“Everything’sgreat” Ámbar said, trying to keep her voice neutral. She walked away doing hertypical Ámbar walk.

The samething happened to her the next day.

Simón andLuna were skating on the rink together. It looked like they had a lot of fun. Suddenly,Ámbar started imagining her and Simón skating together. The thought was nice. Sheremembered the time they skated together at the intercontinental competition, duringtheir performance, she thought he was one of the best skating partners she’sever had. He made her feel like she was flying whenever they skated together. Shedidn’t get why she suddenly felt warm at the thought of her and him doingsomething together. It even made her smile. What is happening to her?

She didn’tknow what was going on with her. Why she was feeling this way. What does thismean to her? At first, she thought she hated the sight of Luna being happy withher friends but she knew this wasn’t the feeling of hate. It was somethingdifferent. Something she never felt before. She really wants to know all theanswers to her questions. But how is she going to find them? She is consideringasking advice with someone who would be willing to help her. Is there someonewho would want to do this? Is she really going to do this? She considered allthe possibilities to find every answer. She decided to stick with askingsomeone. But who?  She looked around the cafeteriato find the right person. She noticed Matteo sitting alone. Lost in histhoughts. He might be the right person.

She walkedup to him: “Hello, Matteo. How are you?” she said this in a very fake friendlytone. Matteo noticed this immediately.

“What doyou want, Ámbar?” he asked a little annoyed.

She took adeep breath, she was nervous to ask him. “I need your advice.”

Matteo wassurprised by this. Ámbar Smith has never asked for advice in her entire life.

“This mustbe really serious.”

“Yes… Maybe…I don’t know.”

“What isgoing on?” he frowned.

“Something’shappening to me. Lately, I’ve been feeling… things” she almost whispered.

“What kindof things?” he asked in a normal tone.

“Not soloud, I don’t want anyone to know” she put her finger on her mouth to show him thatshe’s serious.

“Okay,fine. Tell me, what is it that you feel?”

“I don’tknow but every time I see Luna and Simón together, I get this feeling. Like someonepunched in my stomach” she was really whispering now, “and whenever I think ofdoing something together with him, like skating for example. I get this nice,warm feeling inside and just the thought of it makes me smile like an idiot”she was a little mad that she was feeling all these things, she has no ideawhy.

Matteo startedlaughing now. Ámbar couldn’t believe what she was seeing. A sudden blush cameon her cheeks. She was a little embarrassed. She started regretting thedecision she made to ask advice from Matteo.

“What’s sofunny?” she was turning her anger towards Matteo.

“I can’tbelieve this, you really don’t know what’s going on?” he asked with a big smirkon his face.

“Why do youthink I came to you too?” she was definitely getting angry now.

“You reallyare clueless, aren’t you?” he waited for an answer. When he didn’t get one, hecontinued: “You’re jealous of them. Especially jealous of Luna.”

She put ona confused look.

“Oh my God,you’re so in love with Simón, you don’t even see it.”

“What? I’mnot in love with him. That’s impossible.” she let out in disbelief.

“Well, youare and there’s nothing you can do about it” he was still laughing. He found itamazing that she finally knows what love feels like. It’s funny how she foundout though. “I’ll let you alone to process this now.” He put his hand on hershoulder for a second and then left.

“Unbelievable.I have feelings for Simón. How is this possible?” she said her thoughts outloud. She has no idea what she is going to do next.

#send me fic requests #i'm not sure i like it #but okay #soy luna #simbar #simon alvarez #ambar smith #matteo balsano #fic request #soy luna ff #simbar ff #my soy luna fic #anonymous #answered

[ambar-smith]

what have you done to me?

I'm not in love with Simón Álvarez. No way. Why would I be that? This is just a plan.

But why do I feel something everytime he looks at me? Everytime he smiles his goofy smile? Everytime he pulls his funny silly jokes?

Why would I be in love with a guy who dresses like that? His cheesy beanies and everything? But everytime I talk to him I can be myself. I can talk about my godmother, my parents. And it seems that he actually cares about what I say; he listens and encourages me. When I feel sad he always gets me in a better mood. He makes me laugh, smile - something I have not done in a long time.

But I'm not in love with him... This is just a plan, that's all. I have become more popular, and that's all I want. The plan succeeded.

I, Ámbar Smith, is not in love with Simón Álvarez.

#soy luna #simbar #ambar smith #simon alvarez #my ffs #my writing #idk what this is #i just wrote something #sl

[hide-in-imagination]

Hi ! I hope you're having a great day. I was wondering if u could give some simbar fanfic recomendations. Thanks a lot

Aww, you’re so sweet anon 💖 I hope you had a great day too and I’m sorry for the late reply!! 

Tbh I’ve only read the fanfics I’ve found here and there’s not a lot so I’m sorry if this list is too short. I mean, I’ve checked like 3 others on wattpad but… those are not good hahahah. 

Anyway, I’d recommend these if you haven’t read them already: 

“Shape of you” by Deliverydefresas. Or literally everything you find in her simbar fic tag: https://deliverydefresas.tumblr.com/tagged/my+simbar+ff 

“Maldives” by Huffletiika. You really don’t need to read the main story to enjoy this one: http://huffletiika.tumblr.com/post/174825444583 

“Who scared you?” by Iprefferedherasacartoon. She honestly should appreciate herself more, I loved what she wrote: https://ipreferredherasacartoon.tumblr.com/post/174772218383/who-scared-you 

“I just really want to kiss you right now” by Miris-xo. It’s so cute. https://miris-xo.tumblr.com/post/164069247010/i-just-really-want-to-kiss-you-right-now-simbar 

“Why” and “We’ll be a dream” by @from-red-string.  The second one tho is pure angst so I don’t recommend it on a rainy day lol. 

There’s probably more but I don’t remember them right now. Anyway, those are a must read❤️

#simbar #simbar fic rec #anon #answered

[deliverydefresas]

another aeroplane, another sunny place

AKA, the final bonus part of shape of you that wasn't posted here, but on wp. very much inspired by michael bublé's song 'home' back in 2017 that i finally finished writing a while ago. technically it can be read as a standalone os since that's how it was originally written as, but it also makes sense in the sofy universe. (just like another os i will post sometime next week that i *also* posted on wp but not on here)

ANYWAYS feel free to ignore if you've read it already, since i'm mostly just posting it here in case i need to reference it later!

may be surrounded by a million people i still feel alone, i just wanna go home

oh, i miss you, you know

He'd been on the road for eight months now.

He was grateful of all the success the Rollerband was getting; a worldwide sold-out tour, thousands of records sold, a renewed signing contract for another three years. He knew he was lucky, and he couldn't deny it.

Career-wise, he was happy, living his rock-star dream. His personal life was a whole different thing.

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. And it was true, honestly. If he thought he loved his girlfriend before, he knew for sure now that he was ten thousand kilometers away. However, what they don't tell you, it's how hard it can get when such a distance is formed. He hadn't talked to Ámbar, like really talked, in two months.

Their relationship had gotten to an only-texting communication, with hello's and goodnight's texts received every day. The phone calls had reduced to once a week, if that.

It hadn't started that way, though. The first three months consisted of daily three-hours-long video calls, with the occasional visit if uni and her schedule allowed her, then they passed to a one-hour daily cellphone call... now they were lucky they even remembered to put 'i love you' at the end of their texts.

He didn't like it, not one bit. He knew where they were leading; he'd seen it first with Jim and Nico years ago (which was a reason he tried not to date anyone seriously), and then a few months later with Delfi and Pedro. Simón didn't want that for Ámbar and himself.

He checked the time; almost midnight where he was, so it'd only be around 7 PM in Buenos Aires. Her uni classes ended at three, so either she was at the J&R or doing homework.

Deciding he didn't have anything to lose, he pressed 'call' on his phone. Five rings later, she picked up, her beaming face appearing on his screen. Gosh, how he'd missed her.

"Aló, Simón?!" Her voice sounded a little breathy, but overall excited. He had to smile when he heard her. "How are you? I miss you," she sighed wistfully on the other side of the line. The hand she wasn't using to hold the phone went to her hair, twirling a lock away from her face.

"I miss you too," Simón answered, a small smile gracing his lips, "I'm coming home soon, only a couple of weeks more, little gem."

"It feels like too long, but at least it's sooner than eight months," she mumbled, sighing again, "how's Spain? Didn't you have a show tonight?"

"Spain's great, full of life," he remembered the crowd, screaming and singing along, "the show ended an hour ago. I'm feeling a little homesick, I guess," he admitted, "I wish I was there with you."

"Don't," she reprimanded him, shaking her head a little, "you'll be here soon, enjoy tour life while you can."

"That's the thing... I'm not enjoying it anymore." Ámbar went still at this. If it weren't for the tenue sound of music she was listening on her side and that he could hear through the phone, he'd have thought it's freezed on him; when he realized that wasn't the case, he continued. "It's been too long. I miss our bed, I miss waking up next to you, hugging you, kissing you... I miss our dog and I miss our friends. This life... it feels so empty, little gem." He wasn't ashamed to say he was close to tears. He loved touring, giving concerts in different parts of the world, meeting fans all over the globe... those were heavy pros. Simón just wished he'd have more time for his family.

"Don't think like that, Simón, please." She begged him, the little tremble in her voice gave away her emotions, her face had barely moved. Simón knew it was more for his sake than for hers. "I miss you too, so much it hurts sometimes. But this is your dream, love, this is what you've worked so hard for; don't let homesickness stop you from finding joy in what you love the most."

"I'll try, I promise I will. I just... I don't know..."

"I get it, I'm the same sometimes. But you must understand; we're not them, Simón." Her voice turned softer, understanding, and soothing. He loved that about her, that she seemed to know what to say and how to say it without a prompt given. "Do you know why they didn't work out? It's not because they loved each other less, or because the distance was too much. It was the pressure of feeling that if they weren't near each other, if they didn't talk to the other 24/7, their bond would break. It was too much, and it ended up leaving them strained."

"Is this your way of telling me you don't want to talk to me anymore?" he joked, his smile growing as she rolled her eyes.

"You're an idiot." She deadpanned, changing her position on the bed to recline her back on their bedrest. "Seriously, though, do you get what I'm saying?"

"Yes, love. I know I shouldn't care too much about how much we talk as it does not define our relationship but what can I say? I miss you." She grinned at him.

"I miss you, too. I'm always a call away," she promised him, but then she frowned, "unless I'm at class, then sorry, you'll have to talk to my voicemail."

He laughed, "I see how it is, a boring class is way more important than funny me. How's everything over there? How's my princess?"

"Always." She winked at him. "Everything's fine. I had lunch with my mom today, she made mushroom lasagna, I told her already that mushrooms taste like nothing, but she swears they're flavorful; I might go visit my dad tomorrow as well; he's been bugging me about having dinner with him and his family," he absentmindedly scrunched his nose at the mention of the fungi, he hated them, "Toppy is here, I can put you on speaker so you can talk to her, if you want. I can't promise she'll answer, though, she's been giving me an attitude lately."

"An attitude? You're rubbing on her, aren't you? When I get home, I'll come back to two Ámbar's instead of one." He teased her, earning a huff from his girl. "Let me talk to her, I bet she doesn't even recognize my voice anymore."

"You've always been her favorite, she will." She replied softly, and then it was quiet for a couple of seconds, while she took off the earphones' plug from her phone. "Okay, you're on speaker now. Toppy, babe, come greet daddy." Simón waited until he heard a 'thud' – followed by Ámbar adjusting her phone's camera so he could see both his girl and their pet- to speak again.

"Toppy?" Not a sound.

Before he could get sad he got no response, Ámbar spoke. "She's smelling my phone, talk again." She sounded amused, so Simón complied, cheerier this time.

"How's my favorite puppet doing? I heard you're giving mommy a bit of trouble. What happened to my good girl?" He wasn't done with his first question when the barking started, his pup's little whines sounded almost as if she was reprimanding his absence.

"She's missed you." His girlfriend exclaimed over the barking, chuckling at the way Toppy's tail swat rapidly.

"I miss her too." He sighed again, "I miss you both a lot."

"Just a few more weeks." She reminded him, her smile and tone wistful as she tried to contain the pup's wriggling body. He had to smile at that.

"Just a few more weeks." He echoed, the underlying promise loud to their ears. "I love you."

"I love you too." She paused for a second, before speaking again, "now please go to sleep, you look like you died a week ago." Simón laughed at that, but he knew better than to fight her when she was trying to take care of him.

"I'll call you tomorrow, alright?"

His words were met with a grin. "Not if I text you first. I love you so much, Simón."

"I love you more, little gem. Take care, okay? I'll see you as soon as I can." She sent him a kiss through the phone, before disconnecting the call. He stared at the screen for a couple of minutes, before the 'low battery' notification popped up and he had to charge it. The call left him feeling much better, so he decided to go to bed already.

Just a few more weeks ran like a mantra trough his mind, soothing his fears and anxiety. Just a few more weeks and I'll be home.

#simbar #soy luna #my simbar ff #my sl ff #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #sofy #mine #queued #(obvs the image of the line break isnt mine i found it on google images so the credit goes to whoever created/owns it)

[deliverydefresas]

shape of you: bonus parts

I’ve been owing you these for months and i’m very sorry about that! thanks again to the anons who’ve reminded me you guys are the best!

there’s a couple more parts i have started writing but haven’t finished yet (one of them being the definite epilogue) so lets have our fingers crossed they’re done this year lmao 

i cant remember but it’s probs not proofread, sorry in advance

for all the previous parts click here  

                                                             💫

                                                             💫

MEETING FANS

They’d been going out on dates for a month before it hit Ámbar that she wasn’t dating a ‘normal’ person.

Simón had picked her up after her last class that Friday, telling her the guys – as he called his band- had invited them out for drinks so they could meet the girl who’d stolen his time and mind. She’d been reluctant at first, not really in the mood to go out after a long, stressed week of mid-terms, but Simón’s puppy face had become something she just couldn’t say no to.

They had dinner at their place first, ordering Chinese take-out as she let herself be questioned by Pedro and Nicolás. Simón’s friends weren’t as bad as she’d thought, talking mostly at Simón’s expense and sharing embarrassing details of the boy she’d been dating, as well as setting up ‘the talk’, warning her to not hurt their friend. Ámbar found it rather amusing; Pedro and Nico didn’t give the intimidating pose they tried to pull off, but a goofy, joking one, even if the underlying warning was there. Simón had shaken his head, telling her to ignore them, but she ended up promising she wouldn’t, more to their amusement than hers.

Eventually they hit one of the near-by bars close to their apartment, Simón’s hand firm on her waist and both of his friends backing them up through the crowd. It was a Friday night, so she wasn’t surprised to see that many people around, but she did wonder how they’d find a table to sit on with so many people around waiting for one as well, and whom, most likely, had been there longer than them.

It was when Nicolás disappeared for five minutes telling them he’d go talk to the manager, so they could be seated that it hit her.

It didn’t take long before the four of them had a table and drinks on their hands. If it had been her and her friends alone, they’d probably had to wait at least an hour before they could leave find seats available, but she was with her boyfriend, who happened to be in a famous band, and whose name had a weight heavier than she’d expected. It was a strange feeling, but she wasn’t going to lie and say she hated it. She didn’t love it, either, but she wasn’t about to complain when she was on heels. She also wasn’t shy to ask Nico what deal he’d to make.

The guy shrugged. “We just have to post a picture of us and tag the place. I’ll do that before we leave, I don’t wanna get mobbed today.” It sounded like it was nothing out of the norm, so she shrugged it off too, sipping on her mojito, waiting for them to carry on their conversation about writing sessions.

They’d only been on the bar for an hour before a girl around her age came up to them, interrupting Pedro’s question about her classes; she felt the weight of Simón’s arm around her shoulders fall, and she’d frowned at the missing contact. Her boyfriend threw her an apologetic smile before turning to the – clearly tipsy- girl, asking her if she needed anything.          

The girl started squealing how she was a big fan, and how she didn’t want to be a bother but that a picture with the guys would be a dream come true. Said guys all wore matching polite smiles – she wondered if they were practiced- and kindly told her they would if she didn’t post it right away, as they wanted to chill around for a bit more. The fan nodded multiple times, only turning to look at her to ask her if she could take the picture, her grin so big she was sure it hurt. The boys chatted her up for a total of five minutes, asking her standard questions before sending her off, begging her again not to post the picture right away. The girl said her goodbyes with shiny eyes and the biggest grin she had ever seen.

Ámbar would learn later that those were her favorite type of fans. The ones who were polite and only focused on the band, instead of those who’d throw distasteful glances at her whenever she was out with Simón, or those random people who clearly didn’t know who Simón and the rest were but wanted a picture anyway just to show they met them; she really couldn’t say those who tried to make a conversation with her were great, either, but that was mostly due to her inability to hold a conversation when all they wanted to talk about was Simón, how hot he was and how lucky she had been to snatch him up. She hated other girls objectifying him, and she hated that if affected her as much as it did.  

Her least favorite, though, were those who couldn’t take a no for answer; those who, even when the guys asked for them to give them a little of space, kept shoving their cameras on their faces. Her encounters with those were only a handful, but watching her boyfriend get harassed had proved to be too much for her, as two out those times, Antonio – the band’s manager- had to hold her back from behind to stop her from smacking some people’s faces.

In the end, however, a fan’s glee at finally meeting a person they admired so much was contagious, and 9 out of 10 times it left her with a smile on her face. It wasn’t easy, knowing that at one point or another, your boyfriend will prioritize strangers ahead of you, but she learnt to deal with it. Simón loved making other people happy, so the happy grin on his face whenever he met them was enough reason for her to bear it.

                                                            💫

READING ONLINE ABOUT HERSELF

They’d been dating around three months when the first picture of them appeared online.

It was blurry, clearly taken by someone who was trying their best to be sneaky and quick, a prominent zoom if the way it was noticeable pixilated was any tell.  

Sadly, it wasn’t blurry enough to couldn’t tell it was them. Simón’s face was fully displayed, laughing about something they were talking about, his arm around her while she rested her head on the crook of his neck, making only her profile visible. It’d been taken on one of their many lunch dates, half-eaten food in front of them told her so.

It went viral everywhere.

And so, the hunting for her identity begun. Every single media she knew of wanted to know her name, her age, where she studied – if she studied-, how they’d met and why he decided to date her. It escalated to the point of a magazine offering money for her information. Ámbar never felt luckier to go to a private university, where none of the people who knew her cared enough to sell her out.

Sadly, her relief lasted only a week. Simón was leaving the country to a meeting with their label when Emilia’s text reached her phone. ‘The cat is out of the bag; someone ratted you out’ following with the link of an article: ‘Meet Ámbar Smith: Simón Álvarez’ new flame’. Her breath caught on her throat, while her fingers flew to open the link. The more she read, the tighter her chest felt; they’d left no personal detail untold.

They knew her full name, they knew her age, her uni, what she was studying and the year she was on, that she was on a scholarship and had a nearly perfect GPA; that she lived with her mom and had a younger brother on his dad’s side, her mom’s job and her dad’s office. They knew she was a co-founder of The Fab and Chic, that it was her who’d interview him all those months ago, theorizing that was how they’d met and how long they’d been dating. They briefly mentioned his relationship with Matteo, too.  

Ámbar almost started screaming in the middle of the airport. As if Simón could feel her mood changing, he turned around from where he was talking to Pedro to ask her if something was wrong. He’d asked her at least five times what the problem was, but she just couldn’t speak. It wasn’t until Pedro – or was it Nico? She didn’t remember- opened twitter and showed him what was happening that Simón understood. That’d been the first time she saw him truly pissed off.

“How dare they?!” he’d growled, gripping the phone so hard his knuckles turned white. Someone must’ve told him she was still there, because then he turned to her, his arms holding her tight and his tone going down a few octaves, softer. “I’m so sorry, love. I will fix this, I promise I will.”

Her mind went back to the conversation she’d had with Emilia months ago, about how the exposure of the article could get her name out there, how she wished it would. But now, with her personal information, with her life, only a google search away from the public, she felt sick. “This can’t be happening.” She started mumbling, her mind a chaos. “How did they find out? Who could sell me out like this?” Only a couple of people knew what was told to the media, and all of them were trust-worthy. Either one of those people was scum, or the magazine was very good at stalking and digging up information.

“Baby, no. I’ll take care of it, okay? I’ll speak to Antonio and he’ll speak to our lawyer and we’ll see what we can do, alright? I’ll sue them if I can, make them delete it-”

That made her snap. “It’s all over the internet, Simón! Nothing ever gets completely deleted there! There must be thousands of screenshots already!” Even to her ears she sounded panicked. Her boyfriend’s face fell even more, and she felt worse.

Ámbar knew he’d do everything he could to make her happy. He’d proven that to her time and time again, he always asked first what she wanted to do, what she wanted to eat, which movies she wanted to watch, for him, it was always about her and her wishes. It was her who didn’t want to divulge their relationship just yet, and now, instead of his fans finding out their way, from their mouths, they’d found out by someone else’s. And it was her own fault.

That only pissed her more.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, grabbing her hand to push her to his body, encircling his arms around her waist. She took a deep breath, trying to sigh out her emotions.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re trying to help but I’m just- I’m so mad I just want blood to spill.”

“I understand.” He squeezed her waist slightly, “I’m serious, though. I can call Antonio and we can see how this can be… not as bad. I’ll sue them if that’s what you want.” She felt her heart swell with gratitude. As usual, though, she’d to ask him.

“Is that what you want?”

“This is about you, little gem. But yes, I do want to fight them on this. It’s not only your privacy being stepped on, but Silvana’s and your dad’s, too.”

“I want to know how they did this, and who did it. I want my parent’s info deleted as soon as possible, I don’t care about mine right now, but theirs I want gone.” Ámbar mumbled on his chest, knowing he’d hear it as his head was casted downwards, above hers.

She felt him nod. “I really am sorry, love.”

“Don’t be. I knew this would come sooner than later, and it was me who gave them time to collect my information, instead of me directing their moves.” She sighed out, mentally slapping herself for letting this pass by.

“It’s not your fault they’re assholes.” He tried to make her feel better. Ámbar just hugged him tighter. He held her for about a minute more, before excusing himself to call his manager and publicist and see what he could do.

An hour later, after Simón and his band’s flight had taken off, she’d received another text from her best friend. ‘He did it. It’s gone.’ She let out a sigh of relief.

But she wasn’t stupid. Ámbar knew this was only the beginning, and that, as much as she’d like, they wouldn’t be able to afford erasing every single article someone happened to write about her. It just wasn’t viable.

She did, however, promise herself that, the next time an article popped out about her, it’d be on her terms.

                                                            💫

GETTING PAPARAZZI’ED ON A DATE

It took the media another month before they got another photograph of them together.

Or, well, multiple pictures.

Simón had decided he wanted to take her to a ‘nice’ restaurant to celebrate the end of her semester. Ámbar knew this was also his way of coaxing her into going out for dates instead of the nights in she’d been convincing him to have at his apartment. It wasn’t that she was explicitly limiting them to stay inside the comfort – and privacy- of his home, but she wanted to take precautions in case anyone involved her parents again.

Whom, unsurprisingly, hadn’t heard of their info being leaked until she asked them if they were okay. Her mom had been taken off guard at first, wondering if she needed to change jobs or warn her boss about teenagers and grown men with a camera, but as soon as Simón told her it wasn’t necessary, and that he’d taken care of it, she’d dismissed the whole ordeal and asked her daughter’s boyfriend if he wanted to have dinner with them. Her dad wasn’t as chill. First, because he didn’t even know she was dating a famous band member, and second, he wasn’t thrilled she was exposing her life by dating one. He’d questioned her reasons, asking her if living in expectation of what the world had to say about her everyday was what she wanted, forever shadowed by her boyfriend’s name wherever she went.

She wasn’t proud to admit she’d snapped at him, throwing at his face that he’d left her mom raise her alone after she turned three, and that for that, he had no reason to butt in her relationship. She wasn’t even sure they were going to last, anyway. Nothing was set on stone when it came to relationships. In the end, he’d grunted out that he was okay and promised to call her if something happened, so she could talk to Simón and see what they could do. He also made Simón promise him he’d meet him soon. Ámbar still grimaced when she remembered how awkward that had been; her dad with his ‘hurt my daughter and die’ attitude, her dad’s wife all star-struck and giving out barely coherent responses to Simón’s questions, and her bored, not at all impressed brother making faces at his meal. She wanted to dig a hole and die.

Just like right now.

The dinner itself had gone splendid, the five-course meal always appreciated, especially when it came with a nice sized brownie and ice-cream scoop. She knew something was amiss when Simón asked for the check and the waiter told him it was taken care of. Not because it surprised her, but because it surprised him. She was used to Simón nodding, or even smiling when it happened. To see him frown, though, had her with her guard up.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered as she leaned to him, forcing him to look her way.

“I don’t know the owner, much less asked them to arrange this.” His voice sounded a little strangled, but he squeezed her thigh to not worry her.

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” He huffed, squeezing once more before excusing himself to make a call. She was left alone at their table, confused. The waiter – who hadn’t left yet- seemed to be anxious, looking over his shoulder a couple of times as he waited for Simón to return. She forced herself to smile at him, even when all she wanted to do was to run to her boyfriend and demand an explanation. In the end, she chose to call for the guy’s attention. The waiter’s eyes widened in surprise, but still walked to her side.

“Do you know who arranged for this?”

He gulped. “I’m afraid I’m not allowed to tell you anything, miss.” Ámbar threw him a glare, the one she knew expressed she wasn’t going to take anyone’s bullshit. “The- uh, the manager might’ve arranged for a couple of photographers to come tonight-”

Her glare intensified. “Did my- Mr. Álvarez’ team agree to this?”

The guy loosened his tie a bit. “We uh- well, the calls weren’t returned.” She pursed her lips for a second, nodding as she stood up to look for Simón.

“I’m sure you’ll hear from them very soon.” She didn’t bother to excuse herself, and just walked away.

Ámbar found her boyfriend walking outside the bathrooms’ hallway, angrily whispering to whoever was on the other side. She called his name, making him snap his head her way; when his brain recognized it was her, he threw a hast goodbye to the phone and hung up.

“Love, I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t know anything. The owner-” She raised her right hand, stopping him.

“I know, the waiter told me. What’s the plan?” Simón sighed heavily and got close enough so he could pull her to his body, encircling his arms around her. Something she’d learnt he tended to do when he was trying to comfort her, and his own anger.

“There’s only a couple of them out there, two or three, max. It’s not enough for Antonio to send someone over, and since this place collides with another building on the back, we can’t go out from there either. Both the principal exit and the emergencies one, are on the front.” He sighed again, the air hitting her neck, making her shudder. He must’ve mistaken it for fear, because he pulled her closer, cradling her head between his hands. “I promise I won’t let them publish anything. If I must pay them the double whoever called them over did, I will, princess… or I could go out alone and call you when-”

That made her scowl. “Don’t call me princess.” He smiled, knowing well she was only kidding – partially. Then it was her turn to sigh. “You don’t have to pay them anything, Simón. I can’t keep letting you waste your money to keep them off my back, it’s not fair. I- I think we should just… get it out of our way.”

“I don’t mind-”

She interrupted him. “I know you don’t mind wasting that money, but I do. I’m ready to take that step, Simón. I want to. Unless you see us breaking up soon – which, by the way, I don’t- there’s absolutely no reason to keep us hidden.”

He stared at her for a moment, before the biggest smile she’d seen on his face, appeared. “I don’t see us breaking up soon, either. Hopefully never.” Ámbar rolled her eyes.

“Now, don’t get too ahead on me yet.” His only response was to attach his lips to hers. He kissed her once, softly, pulling back slightly to breath heavily before kissing her again. This time he let his tongue roam over the ridges of her lips, and it took everything in her not to open her mouth to allow his tongue to meet hers; they were still in public, whether she wanted it or not. So, she let their lips part briefly, to then kiss him again, soft and gentle, before pulling away completely. “As nice as that was, we still have to deal with the problem here, buttchin.”

Simón pouted, showing off his chin dimple – aka, the reason of his nickname-. “Don’t call me that.”

She rolled her eyes again, smirking playfully, and grabbed his hand. “C’mon, I want to go home and kiss you some more.” He was quick to drop the pout.

“Should I pay for our meal? I don’t want anything from them.” She shook her head, lacing her fingers with his as they walked to the entrance.    

“And give them free publicity? Hell no. Just talk to Antonio and have them pay you back.” When she saw their waiter and a man approaching them, she glared at them, a deep scowl on her face, warning them to stay away. If she was going to allow this to happen, she didn’t want to do it angry. And talking to the person who had put her in the situation would surely anger her up.

As he helped her put her coat on, he took the opportunity to whisper on her ear a couple of instructions. “If you don’t want to show your whole face just keep your head down, grab my hand tightly and I’ll guide us to the car once it’s brought to us. I’ll chat them up and, if we’re lucky, they’ll just take a couple of pictures with the restaurant as our background. If you feel uncomfortable squeeze my hand tightly. If they ask me something and you’re okay with me answering, squeeze my hand once, twice if it’s a negative, okay?” By the time he’d finished talking he was already putting his own coat on. She merely nodded, offering her hand so he’d take it again. He counted to ten before walking them outside.

True to his word, there were only three men outside waiting for them. Ámbar was quick to lower her eyes, hiding half of her body with his as she leaned her forehead on his right shoulder. It was in times like this when she was thankful her boyfriend was tall enough so even if she was in heels, she could still use him as a shield.

“Good evening!” he chirped out, and she could bet all the money on the world he was faking a grin. They all chorused his greeting, asking him if he was okay with answering a couple of questions as they took their pictures. She squeezed his hand once. “Sure! What do you want to know?” his tone was cheerful, and polite.

“Did you two have a nice time?” one of the men asked, and Ámbar could hear the flashes going off. She squeezed once again.

“I had the best company, so yes.”

“Your girlfriend’s a beauty.” Another of them offered, making Simón squeeze her hand this time. She squeezed back.

It took him a second to respond, a little less cheery, but still polite. “She is, thank you.”

“How long have you two been dating? Some people had thought you had broken up after no one had seen you out for weeks.” The first men spoke again, his curiosity clear as water.    

Ámbar gripped his hand once, sending a silent prayer to the skies for whoever was bringing his car to hurry. “A while. I think you can imagine why we laid low the last month.” His answer was enough for them to get the hint. They moved the topic to his album, getting two more questions before the sound of an engine told her his car had arrived. “I’m afraid we have to go now. Thank you, gentlemen. Have a nice evening.” Her boyfriend started walking again, leading her to the passenger side and opening the door for her, as usual. For the first time, she didn’t look back at him to thank him. Instead, she kept her head low, letting her hair fall to cover her profile. He was quick to get into his side.

It wasn’t until they had drove off for a couple of streets, that she looked up again, letting a long, heavy sigh leave her lips. Simón grabbed her hand again, kissing the back of it comfortingly.

She sighed again. Wishfully hoping for it to get easier, even if she knew tonight was nothing compared to other times she’d seen other people deal with paparazzies.  

They’d gotten lucky tonight, who knew what it’d happen from now?  

#soy luna #simbar #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #my simbar ff #my sl ff #sofy

[deliverydefresas]

we push and pull like a magnet do

look at me forcing myself to stay on schedule lmao. not even close to proofread but y’all know that already. 

part 1 | part 2 | part 3  

au: famous!simón meets college!ámbar

“It wasn’t a date.”

“It was.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It so was!”

“For the last time, it wasn’t a date!”

“Honey, he invited you for coffee, paid for your food, you both asked personal questions, he gave you a ride home… he freaking met your mom! It screams date. With capital d.”

Ámbar scoffed. “Freaking? What, you stopped cursing now?”

“I’m trying to quit; I almost said ‘fuck’ when my I.L. teacher asked me a question yesterday, he gave me the death glare and I thought for sure the vein in his forehead would pop and cover me in blood.” Emilia paused, “dammit, you’re a bad influence, I was doing so good.”

She raised her brow, “I’m not in charge of what you say, you idiot.”

“But you encourage me to curse, like the wicked witch you are.” She flipped her off, then. Emilia just puckered her lips up, sending her a kiss. “Anyway, your distraction ends now, stop swimming in your river and accept it; you and pinkboi went on a date.”

“My river?”

“Y’know, the Nile? Denial.”

“Hilarious.” She deadpanned.

“I would slay as a comedian.”

Ámbar decided she’d ignore her best friend for the rest of their lunch. It’d been almost three weeks and Emilia still hadn’t dropped the subject. So, what if it sounded like she had a date? Ámbar had very clear that it hadn’t been one, and she was sure Simón knew it too. Besides, she didn’t like him. Sure, they had fun, and sure, he wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d expected; but never, not once, did it cross her mind to see it as anything but an interview.

Which, by the way, had broken records on the Fab & Chic. Jazmín and Delfi hadn’t been happy at first that she’d gone solo and met Simón on her own, or that it’d been her who he gave the exclusive (that she didn’t know it was an exclusive in the first place) about the band nearly splitting up years ago; but the exposure (and money) other media and fans had given the blog in the last two weeks was more than enough to shut their mouths and be appreciative of it. Thanks to it, Jazmín and Delfi had been offered internships on two of the best magazines in the city, and a potential place for a future job to start their careers.

Ámbar, however, got enough money to pay next semester’s scholarship without her mom’s help. Maybe two more if she worked a summer job, and her dad sent her allowance on time; which he most likely would, since he didn’t have to pay two months of his little brother’s school.

She had thought of sending Simón an e-mail to thank him, or maybe even a card; but decided against it since the dude was, well, famous, and probably received thousands of those daily. The chances of him reading it were slim to none, and most likely than not, it’d go to junk-mail.

Plus, Simón really didn’t strike him as someone who read his e-mails.

“- Mrs. Álvarez.” Emilia caught her attention. “Ha! You responded to that! You must be thinking of marrying that dude and picking your children’s names and everything!”

She glared at her. “It was just a coincidence I tuned into your delirious words when you said it.”

“Nah-uh. Tell me, are you marrying in white? Beige? Are you changing your name to his? Will you have a girl or a boy first? It’s totally a girl, isn’t it?”

“We don’t change names here!” Her best friend ignored her, continuing her ranting.

“I can totally see it. A girl, with fake blonde hair, his curls, your face and his dimples; hopefully with his butt because, no offense, but yours is none-existing.”

“Are you sexualizing my hypothetic child?” Again, she was ignored.

“You should name her after me because I’m awesome. Think about it: Emilia Álvarez Smith. Oh, or maybe like that Mean Girls girl. Huh, Regina Álvarez Smith doesn’t sound that nice, forget I said that. What about a stuck up, bitchy girl? I had this classmate in México and she sucked. Her name was M-”

“Stop naming my non-existing daughter!”

“I’m sure pinkboi would love my names, no worries.”

“Then you have kids with him!”

“I have Benny already, and no offense, but he’s hotter than your boy.”  

“You’re an idiot and I hate you a lot right now.”

Emilia smirked. “Now, now, don’t bring out the claws just because you wish your boy was hot like mine.”

Before she could retort with a sarcastic answer like she wanted, her phone vibrated on the table. Seeing Jazmín’s name on the screen threw her off; because she never called unless she needed Ámbar to do something for her and the blog.

“Hello?”

“Can I give your number to Simón?” As usual, the redhead never disappointed with her greetings.

“What?” Emilia arched her brow, silently asking who it was. When she mouthed Jazmín, her friend pretended to gag; she just rolled her eyes at her antics.

Jazmín’s sigh of annoyance was heard through the phone. “He e-mailed the Fab and Chic asking for your number. I’m asking you if I can give it to him since you’d probably kick my ass if I just gave it to him without warning.”

She would. “How are you sure it’s him? Does the guy even use his e-mail?” At this point, the other blonde was gesturing wildly to turn on the speaker. Ámbar just flipped her off.

“I e-mailed his agent and he confirmed it was his personal account.”

What did that guy want, now?

“Fine. But if I’m kidnapped or something it’s on you.”

Jazmín just hung op on her. She had been bitter two weeks ago, and she probably still was. Simón was her celebrity crush, and she was the biggest Rollerband fan she knew of; buttchin trying to contact her specifically must’ve been salt on her wounded pride. Not like she actually cared, but the boy wasn’t some thing, he was someone and Jazmín couldn’t call dibs on him like it was her property.

But, again, she didn’t like him. She just cared for his right to not be objectified.

“Well, goodbye to you too.” She muttered before locking her phone and putting it away on the table.

“What did gingerbread want now?” Emilia asked eagerly.

“Buttchin e-mailed the Fab & Chic and asked for my number. She was just asking if she could give it to him.”

The gasp that came out from her friend’s mouth should be illegal. The girl actually shrieked, “I told you! I fucking told you so! He liiiiiikes you!”

By now, half the lunch counter was glaring at them. “Would you shut up?” She hissed, “he doesn’t like me. He’s probably asking because the idiot forgot to ask for his beanie back.”

“Yeah, right. You seriously buy that bullshit? The dude is probably naming your kids right now.”

“What’s with you and thinking people are naming their kids?”

“Benny and I have. We’re naming one Bernardo and the other Esther.”

“Do you want your kids to be bullied?”

“My kids will be bad-asses, if anything they’ll bully.”

Sometimes Ámbar wondered why she was even friends with her.

She was relieved when she got home. Her classes had gone smoothly, and the workload had been reasonable; but Emilia’s teasing had hit a nerve on her that made her unable to turn off the topic in her mind.

She just wanted a shower, ice cream and a nap. Ámbar knew herself enough to accept that trying to do any work in that moment would be pointless and a sure headache.

Her bed was calling her.

And, according to her vibrating bag, so was someone on her phone. It was a blocked number, so she just let it go to voicemail and went to take a shower; if it was anything important they’d leave a message or something.

When she got out, she had ten unread texts.

Hey Ámbar, it’s simón

As in, Simón Álvarez

From the Rollerban

*Rollerband

I asked Jazmín for your # and she gave it to me, she told me she told you?

If you’re not ambar ignore these messages

I’m not actually simón from the rb

If you are tho please text me back

Or call me

Or something?

“He’s such a weirdo.” She muttered to herself, before texting a simple ‘it’s me.’ It only took seconds before he responded.

Can I call you?

No

He called her anyway.

“I told you no, buttchin.”

Simón didn’t seem to mind her greeting, as he sounded more amused that anything. “Then why did you pick up?” She didn’t answer, which only made him chuckle. “Sorry, but I really needed to confirm this was your number. It’s not like I don’t trust Jazmín but…”

“She hates me?”

“… It sounded like that, yes.”

She sighed. “She doesn’t. I think she’s just jealous you didn’t ask for her number.”

“Well, she’s not the one who stole my beanie. I have no reason to call her.”

“I didn’t steal it. You forgot to ask for it and I forgot to return it.”

“Sounds like stealing to me.”  

“Do you want me to mail it to you or something?”

“Or something.”

“Well that surely tells me what you want to.”

He chuckled again. “One of my friends goes to your uni, and they offered to pick it up for me; if that works for you I can tell them to meet you in your faculty.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier for you to come to my house?”

“As much as I liked your mom’s food and having dinner with you, I can’t. The boys and I are actually out of the country right now, that’s why I couldn’t contact you earlier.”

She was surprised when she felt a wave of disappointment course through her body. Did she want to see him again? Well, yes. But she knew she didn’t need to, and she was obviously not going to ask him to wait until he was back in Buenos Aires. Her pride was bigger than that.

“Then sure. Just tell me when and I’ll bring it over.”

“Awesome! Do you have free time tomorrow?”

She nodded, even if he couldn’t see her. “I have a couple minutes before my noon class. If they can meet me at 11:50 in the square, I’ll be waiting by the fountain.”

“11:50, square, fountain; got it. I’ll text them and confirm it later, alright?” She shrugged it off with an ‘okay’. “So, how are you? How were your classes?” Ámbar smiled.

He stalled their goodbye’s for another hour, promising to call her tomorrow after uni to see if everything had gone alright.

She didn’t do any work that afternoon, but she couldn’t bring herself to care that much.

The next morning, she was next to Emilia with the beanie on her hand; waiting for whoever Simón had sent, and just couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Out of everyone is this world, she really wasn’t expecting to her there.

“Da-amn.” Emilia whispered as Luna walked their way, the brunette’s grin as bright as the sun. Ámbar forced herself to smile back.

Only Simón would send her ex’s actual girlfriend to pick up his stupid hat.

#soy luna #simbar #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #simbar ff #my simbar ff #sl ff #my sl ff #mine #this is shorter than i'd like but wcyd #sofy

[deliverydefresas]

the club isn’t the best place to find a lover so the bar is where i go

What is this you ask? I have no idea.

I’ve always wanted famous!simón with college!ámbar au-thingy and i was like “hey maybe this could be au enough for this one prompt i’ve owed barbara since the ice age” that i was supposed to post (and finish) by muffin’s birthday but then shit happened in my country and then i got (still am) sick so it came out so ???? that it’s basically forcing me to be make it longer than one chapter bc me is sick enough to think i can actually achieve this without disappointing any of you lol 

ANYWAY this is famous simón + college ámbar + the beanie au mess (????) and i’m warning you that, it is, indeed, a mess xD

The night had proved to be a drag.

Music was loud, voices tuned out by the speakers and the booming voice of whatever rock band they were playing at the moment, so he had run off to a balcony outside the bar, where the chilly air would be clean of the smell of alcohol and sweat. It was well over midnight, but his friends seemed to be more awake than ever; Nico was off flirting with a girl, most likely asking for her number, while Pedro order them another round of drinks.

It had been a tradition for them to go out after a show, and tonight had been no exception. They’d found a nice middle ground club near the venue, far enough so not that many fans could find them, but not far enough to get lost and get cashed a fortune by the taxi drivers. Truth be told, he was in no mood to go out; now that they were officially home he just wanted to hide away in his apartment for a couple days, and sleep in his bed after the three months they’d been on the road, but his mates had insisted. It was the penultimate show, the penultimate night before they went on a break from the touring and start the writing process for their new album.

It was also to celebrate the end of their first arena tour in the continent, just the three of them, before their management threw a party with all their friends and family tomorrow and were distracted by their attention (personally, Simón couldn’t care less but, again, his friends had insisted).  

He had thought of asking Luna to help him ditch, though he’d crossed the idea as soon he remembered she was high on the honeymoon phase with her new boyfriend. The last thing he wanted was to third wheel their date, or fifth wheel if Nina and her boyfriend were with them, too. So, he settled for having a couple of drinks, and help Pedro babysit Nico in case the blond decided to fly solo, or with the girl he was currently flirting with. That boy didn’t need another ‘16 fiasco.

Simón was brought back to the real world and out of his mind by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and found himself eye to eye with a beaming girl, her voice as cheerful as she looked, a tablet well positioned in her hands, “you’re Simón Álvarez!” she took his silence as an invitation to sit at their booth, “oh my gosh, I can’t believe it! I told my friends you would be here, and they thought I was crazy! But you’re here, and I was right and they weren’t! I can’t wait to tell them!”

Her words were spoken too fast, but he did manage to understand a couple, “wait, wait, wait; you knew we’d be here?”

“As a dedicated journalist, vlogger and one of the biggest fans the Roller-Band has in the city, it’s my duty to know where, when and with who you are, of course!” Her chirpy tone never faltered, and it made him feel a little uneasy. Ever after over five years in the industry, he still felt weird when people approached him this way.

“What?!”

“We dedicated fans take details very seriously, silly. Don’t worry, I won’t post the exclusive right away, and I’ll definitely get your good side in the video; though, if you ask me, there’s not a bad side, at all.” She winked, but quickly turned her attention back to the screen of her tablet; “so, tell me, Simón; what is a hottie like you doing here tonight? Relaxing after a tough show? I heard a girl threw her bra at you and you almost poked your eye with your guitar, can you confirm you’re not blind? Also, did Nico really cheat on his last girlfriend with a groupie? Is Pedro gay? I know a girl who would die to get this denied. The Pedro thing, I mean, because Nico is kinda lame, don’t you think? I say it’s his hair. Anyway, how does it feel knowing the tour is ending with a sold out show in one of Argentina’s most important venues? Are you single? Or are you dating that girl from Cancún like that magazine says, hmm?” the girl bombarded him with questions, almost making him mentally dizzy with the speed they were out of her mouth.

“Listen-”

“Jazmín.” She offered her name, grinning at him behind the tablet.

“Okay, Jazmín,” he nodded, “listen I appreciate the interest but I came here to chill and an interview really isn’t what I had in mind-” Jazmín’s face fell in disappointment, and he cursed himself for being weak, “- but I guess a couple questions won’t hurt, right?”

She was back to beaming in a second. “Great! Thank you so, so, so, so, so much, Simón! The Fab and Chic fans will die when I tell them I met you and got an exclusive!”

He tried to smile as excited as she seemed to be, “yes, great.”

“Okay, I can always add the intro later so, back to the questions, did the flying bra blind you?” Jazmín sounded so serious, and so genuinely worried that he had to laugh at the question.

“No, it did not. Though I’d really appreciate it if they stopped throwing them at us, we have no use for them nor do we need them. Keep your bras, ladies.”

“They’re too expensive to throw,” she agreed before asking again, “about tomorrow’s show-”

Simón kinda tuned her out for a moment. Because then, he saw her entering. It was almost impossible not to, honestly, since her gold dress was an eye-catcher right away, shinning in the dim light of the balcony. Her scowl was enough to see she wasn’t happy, and was glaring directly at them.

“Jazmín!” the girl in front of him tensed immediately, cursing lowly before locking her tablet and turning to look back where golden girl was standing at. “Care to explain what you’re doing? Delfina and I have been looking for your ass for half an hour!”

“Ámbar!” Simón couldn’t see her face anymore, but he was positive Jazmín was grimacing. “Look who I met! It’s Simón, from the Roller Band! I told you they’d be here and he agreed to give us an interview, isn’t it great?”

Jazmín’s friend’s icy glare was now directed at him. She examined him for a minute, her eyes searching for something that he couldn’t really pinpoint. In the end, her gaze ended up on Jazmín again.

“That’s going to have to wait, because Delfi needs you right now. She found the other bandmates, and wants you to film it for the blog.”

The redhead started protesting as soon as the blonde started talking, but her friend was having none of it. “Maybe later? Simón, here-”

“Now, Jazmín.” Her tone was final, and it worked.

Jazmín hugged him out of nowhere, snapping a selfie quicker than he could smile and left the two alone, murmuring something that made her friend roll her eyes at her. He waited for the blonde to follow Jazmín out of the balcony, but it surprised him when she made no intention to move. Instead, she kept staring at him.

“What? Is there something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

She shrugged. “I’m trying to see what the big deal is about you that Jazmín had to go behind my back to try and interview first.” Simón was sure he looked as confused as he felt, but the girl offered no further explanation.

“Oh? Well, I’m Simón, it’s uh- nice to meet you?” he offered his hand to her, expecting her to shake it like a normal person. Instead, she ignored it and got closer until she was almost in his personal bubble. He vaguely noticed she was short; not as tiny as his best friend, but short enough that even in heels, he easily towered over her.

“Ámbar Smith.”

At this point, it was getting awkward. Neither spoke, but her eyes never wavered from him; silently judging him. Never had he felt as uncomfortable as he was now meeting a fan as he was then.

“Uh, if that’s all then I guess I should get go-” she stopped him from leaving with her hand, grabbing his forearm lightly.

“You owe The Fab & Chic an interview, remember?”  

“Right. Sorry, I thought that with Jazmín gone-”

The girl, -Ámbar- scowled at his words, “she wasn’t even supposed to interview you in the first place.”

“I wasn’t supposed to get interviewed, at all, in the first place.” He joked, trying to get rid of her scowl, and overall of the tense air that had been brewing since she’d joined him in the balcony ten minutes ago.

He was expecting a smile, or even laugh, but -as he was learning- the girl wasn’t into doing what he expected. Instead, a frown appeared between her eyes. “You’re right, you can go now if you want. I’m sorry if Jazmín or I ruined your night.”

She dropped her hand from his arm, and made a move to leave. Simón had to laugh, because a) she didn’t look sorry at all, and b) the half smile she was sending him looked more like a grimace than anything else. As soon as his laugh was heard, the scowl was back on her face.

“You didn’t ruin my night, Ámbar. I am, however, confused as to why you didn’t ask our management for an interview instead of stalking us at a bar.”

“We tried, but an interview for a college blog holds no interest to your manager. So, we had to use our own resources, and stalking you until we got somewhat-of-an-exclusive was Jazmín’s idea.”

Simón smiled. “An idea you still followed.” She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t deny his affirmation.

“I was overruled. Jazmín’s obsessed with the band, and Delfi -the other cofounder of the blog- is in love with your drummer, it was a lost battle.”      

They fell into silence then. Simón thought it was cute (and lowkey creepy) that they had bothered and wasted time of their lives to follow them, since they were pretty boring dudes just enjoying making music, and did nothing interesting enough to be ‘an exclusive’. For real, the biggest scandal they’d ever gone through was when Nico ended his relationship with Jim over a year ago; and it was only a scandal because the idiot got so drunk he let himself get pictured with another girl a few days after it. Besides that, they lived a very lowkey life that had no drama; it took them months to learn it, but they achieved it and didn’t have to endure the scrutiny as often as other ‘celebrities’.

Just as she was to leave again, probably thinking he’d never agree to give their blog a chance, he spoke, “we can’t let your effort go to waste now that you’ve met come this far, can we?”

Ámbar’s head snapped in his direction, shock evident on her face as her lips formed a little ‘o’. He was still smiling, but as the sound of his phone’s alarm resonated in the balcony’s quietness, he realized just how late it really was. He needed to grab his bandmates before their manager killed them for staying up that late on a show’s night.

“Listen, Ámbar, I gotta go now before a search party is sent our way. I can’t tomorrow, since it’s the end of the tour and all but, uh, the day after tomorrow maybe?” he could tell she was still taken off guard, but she nodded anyway, “perfect! Then, uh, what about same place, but like, way earlier? Can you manage to come here at, say, 14?”

This time she shook her head, “I have class at 13, but I’m free at 15; can it be 16:30 instead?”

He grinned, “16:30 is perfect. I’ll see you then.”

Simón was halfway to the exit door when she called him back, “wait! How do I know you’ll actually show up and not stand me up?” He wondered for a second if she was being serious, but her frown and crossed arms made it more than clear that she was, in fact, waiting for a guarantee.

He wasn’t dumb enough to give her his phone number (they’d just met, and even if Ámbar didn’t strike him as someone who would throw him to the lions and betray his trust, he still wasn’t going to risk it) and since the only things he had on him where his wallet, keys and phone, he was at loss as to what he could give her.

His phone sounded again after the five minutes snooze passed, hurrying him to get out of there and find Pedro. Simón scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’d caught from Pedro years before, and then it hit him. As quickly as he could, he walked back to her, took off the wool garment off his head and put it on hers. It went a little lopsided, her head was smaller than his and wouldn’t fit as perfectly as it was used to being on him, but it fitted just fine. He allowed himself to think it looked cute. She was cute, after all.

Ámbar wasn’t as happy, though, “what the hell is this?!”

“It’s my favorite beanie, given to me by my grandma when the RB was formed, and your guarantee that I’ll be here after tomorrow. I really do need to go now, Ámbar; when did you see my friends last, can you tell me?”

“At a table near the bathroom; though, Simón this thing isn’t-”

He wasted no time, he kissed her left hand quickly, and ran out of the balcony; barely registering her -by now- almost non-audible protest.

Simón found a tipsy Nico and a very happy-looking Pedro sitting at the table a couple meters away from the bathroom; Jazmín chatting away to her tablet, and a blushing brunette talking to Pedro, a small notebook and a pen in her hand. He guessed she was the other cofounder of the blog Ámbar was talking about, the one smitten with his best friend; he knew he’d have to interrogate Pedro the next morning, his usually-shy-not-talkative friend looked way happy for someone who hated being interviewed.  

“I’m sorry to cut your chat, ladies, but we have to go. It’s almost 2 AM and we have a concert tonight.” He interrupted, raising his voice so they could hear him from above the music. Nico started laughing at nothing, but Pedro was on his feet immediately, saying his goodbye’s and thank you’s to Jazmín and her friend. He smiled to the girls, before dragging Nico out of his seat and started walking towards the bar’s exit.

As soon as they were out of earshot of anyone in there, Nico asked him where he had run to, why had he ditched them when the girls attacked them for an interview (they hadn’t attacked them, Pedro denied, but they did take them off guard when Jazmín appeared with her tablet practically on their faces), and questioned his beanie’s whereabouts (at least he knew he wasn’t drunk enough to forget that he had one on when the night started). He explained them what had happened, his blond friend lost it.

“Simoncito has a date! Simoncito has a daaaaaateeeee!”

He snorted at Nico’s chanting, “I don’t have a date, I’m just helping them with their blog.”

Now it was Pedro’s turn to snort, “you realize the redhead got a selfie with you, and filmed your meeting before you even met her friend, and so you didn’t have to give her anything, right?”

Simón didn’t answer, groaning when he realized Pedro was right; who, in seconds, was on the floor laughing at his expense.

He really needed to stop being so nice.

“A dateeeeee has Simoncitooooo!”

#simbar #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #soy luna #seriously idk what this is #someone will have to remind me to finish this at more than one point honestly #soy luna au #my simbar ff #my sl ff #sofy

[deliverydefresas]

we talk for hours and hours about the sweet and the sour

yes, hi, this is still a mess. I do hope you continue to like it tho xD

Part 1, Part 2 

au: famous!simón meets college!ámbar

She slapped him.

 Not strong enough to leave a mark of her hand, but enough to feel the slight sting of the hit. Her face after she realized what she’d done, was so hilarious, he ended up laughing instead of being mad, or offended. Ámbar apologized – albeit, she didn’t sound that sorry, at all- and he’d waved it off, telling her not to worry about it. It had been his fault, after all; he was the one who had entered her personal bubble without warning, and made her react in the first place.

 After he’d reassured her he wouldn’t sue her, or hold it against her in anyway, they’d resume with the interview. Simón told her all about their journey to get a label, the struggle it was for the three of them to live in a loft and obey all of Nico’s uncle’s demands to let them stay there, the process of songwriting and song-picking for each album. He told her what his favorite song was (Valiente), his favorite to write (Alzo Mi Bandera) and the one that left him bittersweet (Eres); he also talked about his family, his experience living in a new country and starting from scratch to pursue a dream he wasn’t one hundred percent he’d reach. She even got him to admit the Rollerband had talked about breaking up back in the olden days, and how he’d thought about going solo for a couple of months. That was the exclusive he’d promised, even if she didn’t know it was.

Simón asked her a bunch of stuff about herself, too. He asked her about her family (only child, her mom and dad never married), her friends (a girl named Emilia was her best friend, and she had the occasional friends from her uni classes), her career (she liked it a lot, was on a scholarship since her mom couldn’t pay her full tuition by herself and her dad had another little kid to worry about; she was aiming to be valedictorian, and wanted to have her own firm) and even managed to get her to admit she was single (her ex was too much like her, and liked his hair more than he liked her in a romantic way, apparently). The thing that had baffled him, offended him, and surprised him the most had been her dislike for pets. She thought they were messy (which they were), and too needy (true) and that their cuteness wasn’t enough reason to keep one (… maybe), and he just couldn’t agree on her on that one.

 He loved dogs, he loved the companion they provided, loved how loyal and pure they were to show their love. She’d scrunched her nose at this, but admitted she wouldn’t know since she’d never had one to compare; her building didn’t allow pets, and her mom wasn’t one to take care of one either, so it was only natural for them to own none. Simón expressed he really wanted one, but that his schedule was too unstable to adopt one and give them the love they required. Ámbar had proceed to ask him if his girlfriend wouldn’t be up with adopting one with him, to which he just wiggled his brows at her, not denying, and not confirming.

By the time she felt she’d asked enough, it was a little over 19, and it was darker outside. She picked up her things and put on a sweater while he dropped their little plates on the bar, thanking the barista once again when the guy approached him to take the dishes off his hands. When he was back at the table, Ámbar was ready to go.

He led her to the door, his left hand on the small of her back; as they walked he made sure to look downwards most of the way, careful to not let his face show too much. The coffee shop wasn’t full of people, but there were a couple of teenagers sitting two tables down from them, and another elderly couple by the door; the action was more out of habit than anything else.

Simón opened the door for them, and then his passenger door for her once they were in front of his car. He watched her reaction, curious to know if this surprised her, or impressed her in any way. It didn’t. So, maybe her ex-boyfriend hadn’t been a total ass to her.

“Where to?” he asked as soon as he started the car; she leaned over his GPS to write her address. The little device told him her complex was only twenty-five minutes away from the coffee shop, and a little over ten from his own apartment. 

They small talked for a couple minutes, comments about the weather and the traffic being thrown there and there along the way. He suggested she could turn on the radio if she wanted, or connect her phone to his Bluetooth if she preferred; which she agreed on.

He wasn’t surprised when Whitney Houston started playing, but he was surprised when she started singing along, and heard her carrying the tune like a pro.

“You have a pretty voice.” Simón commented, once the last notes of ‘How Will I Know’ stopped. Ámbar merely shrugged it. “Did you take classes, or is it a natural talent?”

“Natural, I guess. Mom sings a lot around the house, it’s a habit I picked on.”

“Well, you’re more than decent at it.” This time, his compliment was met with a smile. After that, she resumed her singing to 80’s songs, he joined occasionally when he knew the lyrics, or wasn’t passing intersections and had to stay alert on the road.

They were five minutes away when the music got interrupted by an incoming call from ‘Silvana ♥’, Ámbar turned to him and asked him if he minded if she answered with the Bluetooth; when he shook his head, she pressed ‘Answer’, and her mom’s voice resonated from the speakers.

“You close, sweetheart? I told you to text me when you were on your way.” Her mom’s voice wasn’t as reprimanding as her words were, but he could hear the worry in it, anyway.

“Yes, mom, I’m only a couple blocks away, now.”

“Did you take a cab? Do you want me to go down and pay for it? I’m still sorry I took your car today, darling.”

Ámbar shook her head, even though her mom couldn’t see her. “It’s okay, mom. Simón offered me a ride, don’t worry, I’ll be there soon.”

There was a pause. “Is he hungry? I made more than enough pasta for the three of us, I’d like to thank him personally for bringing you home.”

“You mean you want to interrogate him and ask him for a picture.” Another pause.

 “Maybe.”

Simón chuckled quietly at that. He looked her way for a second, enough to see her rolling her eyes at her mom’s words.  

“Mom, it’s almost 20, I’m sure he’s tired and has other things to do than to eat dinner with us-”

“I wouldn’t mind.” He interrupted Ámbar, smiling innocently when she glared at him. Her mom’s squeals met their ears.

“Oh my, am I on speaker?! Why didn’t you tell me, missy?! Simón, darling, you’re more than welcome to come and eat dinner with us! I made this white sauce spaghetti that it’s to die for! I also have some chicken, or I could make you a quick milanesa if you’d like, too!”

“I’d love to, ma’am. Thank you.” He didn’t know it was possible, but Ámbar’s glare intensified.

Silvana chirped her goodbye, excited. “It’s no problem, darling! I’ll see you kids in a bit!”

“Why did you agree?!” Ámbar wasted no time reproaching him as soon as her mom hung up.

“Well first, because your mom sounded so nice I just couldn’t say no.” He shot a quick glance to Ámbar, noticing she wasn’t amused, “secondly, and most important; it’s Nico’s turn to cook tonight. And I would really appreciate if you’d save me from the stomachache or help me save money on take out.”

“Don’t you have more important things to do than to have dinner with a girl and her fanatic mom?”

He pretended to think about it.

“No.”

“Fine. But I’m only agreeing because I know this would make my mom’s week.” Simón whooped beside her, to which she rolled her eyes once more. She looked around, seeing they were already on her street. “Park near the green building.”

He did, turned off the car and got out to join Ámbar, who had opened her own door and was out already. She waited until he’d locked his car to start her way towards the building, looking back at him once to confirm he was following her. She opened the building’s gate, and then led him to the elevator, where she pressed the ‘2’ and Simón guessed (obviously) was her floor.

After the elevator stopped on the floor, Ámbar walked only a couple meters to their left, to a door that read ‘203’; but before she could even put in her key, the door opened and revealed a woman who couldn’t be older than 40. She, like her daughter, had her blonde hair a little under her shoulders, but her color wasn’t as light as Ámbar’s; their faces were slightly similar, but Simón was almost sure Ámbar took more after her dad than she did after her mom.

Silvana’s hazel eyes shined with delight when she saw him. “Simón! It’s so nice to meet you, darling! I’m Silvana, Ámbar’s mom.” Simón offered his hand, which she took excitedly, and pulled him into the apartment.

“Hello to you too, mom.” Ámbar complained from behind them, sounding annoyed at them. Silvana waved her off.

“I see you every day, Bee.”

“I can certainly feel the love tonight. Thanks mom.”

“Stop being so dramatic, Ámbar María.” At this, Simón looked over to her, silent question in his eyes.

“That’s not my middle name.” She denied, and he could see her anointment was turning into lowkey anger. Her left eye was twitching, and her mouth had turned into a scowl, which either her mom ignored, or was so used to it by now that it didn’t faze her at all.

“Did you have fun on your date?” Silvana asked him, leading him to their dining table, where three plates of spaghetti were served already, alongside a simple salad and a few pieces of home-made fried chicken. Simón could hardly help his mouth watering at the sight of food, his two conchas and hot chocolate hadn’t filled him as much as he’d hoped, and he was hungry again.

“Uh, it wasn’t a date, ma’am, but I had a great time.” He corrected as soon as he remembered what she’d asked, his mind too preoccupied with food to care.

Silvana’s cheery face didn’t change at all with his answer, “date, interview; it’s always the same, no?”

He laughed, “if you choose to see it that way.”

Ámbar, who had sat in front of him, rolled her eyes when he agreed with her mom; but chose not to speak her mind. Simón thought she knew how to pick her battles, and not even he could see her winning against her mom tonight.

Both he and Ámbar choked on their spaghetti when Silvana spoke next.

“Do you choose to see it that way?”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t have to, really, since Silvana chose he’d meant a yes.

Ámbar, however, almost threw a fit. Simón could imagine she and her mom would have a very long chat as soon as he was out of the apartment, since he would do the same had it been his mom trying to not-so-subtly to set him up with a girl. Still, neither Silvana or he let the mood go into an awkward place, and he didn’t leave as soon as he’d finished eating.

On the contrary, he stayed there until almost 22, when Pedro had called him to ask if he was still alive and if Ámbar hadn’t kidnaped him yet. Silvana was a good person to chat with, and Ámbar became a lot more open with her mom in the room, so he ended up learning more about her, too.

When his time came, Ámbar accompanied him down to her building’s gate, where waved him off to his car. A part of him was expecting a hug, or even a hand-shake, but then again; it wasn’t a date, and they didn’t like each other that way.

The yet rang in his head very loudly, even to him.

Simón wasn’t surprised when he found both Nico and Pedro waiting for him on the living room; the T.V. on, a sports channel reviewing today’s matches and announcing the next day’s.

“So, how was it, stud?” Nico wondered, moving his eyebrows up and down three times.

“It was great, for an interview and all.”

Pedro’s words were as teasing as they were unbelieving. “An interview that lasted more than five hours?” He could only shrug. “Well, did you at least get it?” 

Simón didn’t know what he was referring to, “get what?”  

“Your beanie. Did you get it?” His answer got him double the teasing and laughter.

At least now he had another reason to see her.

#simbar #soy luna #ámbar smith #simón álvarez #my sl ff #my simbar ff #soy luna au #not proofread guys do i need to say it at this point xD #sofy

[deliverydefresas]

come over and start up a conversation with just me

So... I could swear I did queue this for earlier today yet I can’t see it nowhere??? Can anyone confirm I’m not crazy???

As I said before (maybe) I had one of the shittiest weeks ever but at least I managed to do something with this. Yay me.

ps. when I said this was an AU, I really meant AU. Also: this is still a mess but I still hope you like it.  here’s part 1 in case you missed it/can’t remember what’s about lol 

That’s all, ily.

Stares.

She could feel them from all over the place; some heavy and lingering and some flittering, quick ones. Was there something on her face? On her clothes? Had she mismatched her outfit? Ámbar frowned before looking down at her white shirt and blue skirt, checking to see if everything was in order, but nothing was out of place. She wasn’t going crazy, she knew that. They were definitely, shamelessly, staring at her.

She huffed, glaring and rolling her eyes at everyone who was looking on her way to one of few the tables available; her mom had borrowed her car that morning without notice, leaving her to take public transportation to the faculty, which made her arguably late for her first class (she was ten minutes early for her teacher to arrive, but she was late to grab one the best seats in the room) and annoyed with the world.

She tried distracting herself by pulling out her cellphone to check the Fab and Chic’s comment’s page; Delfi and Jazmín’s interviews with Simón and his band had been posted the night before, making the blog explode with views, likes and comments. Ámbar had to admit she was not expecting those results; she had barely heard about the guys before she met Delfi and Jazmín in their Digital Communication class last year, their constant humming to the RB’s latest single was all she could hear when they studied for an exam, and it was so catchy even her mom became a fan that day.  

She, however, never really saw the appeal. Sure, 2/3 of them were good looking, and they weren’t talentless, but there was nothing about their music that made them stand out for her then. Even after seeing them two nights ago, she still couldn’t fully comprehend it but she’d be lying if she didn’t say there was something about their guitarist that made her curiosity peak.      

“What are you wearing?” Gastón’s voice sounded from her right, making her turn around quickly, tearing her glance away from her phone. He had a funny look on his face, his mouth forming a funny ‘o’, his eyes glued to her head.

“Clothes,” was her obvious reply. She arched her brows, daring him to clarify his point.

He took a couple of seconds to respond, - “no, no, no. I mean, what’s with the beanie?” he pointed to her head, where the black beanie she had decided to wear this morning was currently on. She knew she could’ve easily put it in her purse and keep it there until she saw Simón later that day, but she had tried it on after getting dressed and her judgment told her it looked cute enough to wear it for the day. So, she did.    

“What do you mean?” Ámbar tried her best to sound as nonchalant as she could, even if her brain was sending warning signals all over her mind, which was very ridiculous, honestly, since there was no way Gastón or anyone for that matter, could relate it back to Simón since only Delfi and Jazmín appeared in the video the latter posted (Jazmín had been very careful not to mention her in any way, shape or form, still bitter about her 1 on 1 with her favorite band member).  

“It’s spring, Ámbar.”

Ah, so that was what the stares were about.

“So?” she shrugged.

She wasn’t as strict with fashion as Jazmín was, which was why she barely posted on the Fab & Chic after their A was granted last year; and even then, she didn’t give it the same attention as her casual friends did, since the class had been an optative one for the Law student that she was, instead of a required one for their Communication career.  

Gastón’s voice was disbelieving, “so you wear warm hats in a warm weather, now?”

“Oh, I’m sorry mister I-wear-Leatherman-jackets-in-summer, I didn’t know it was illegal to wear warm clothing after winter. Are you going to call the police on me?” her tone was sweet, yet coated with sarcasm. Gastón raised his arms in mocked surrender.

“Point taken.” Ámbar rolled her eyes, but made no further comment. The teacher was to arrive any time soon, and she didn’t want him to give her any negative attention; the old man would surely put her on the spot at a point in the class, most likely to answer a question only he knew the answer to; he was that kind of asshole. Her stupid friend didn’t get the memo, because just as their teacher was walking in, he decided the blurt the most incriminating words one could say in a classroom. “Let me copy your homework?”

Professor Asshole’s glare was enough to make her groan in frustration.

It was going to be a long day.

Lunch couldn’t have come soon enough.

Professor Asshole not only embarrassed Gastón and her in class, but refused to grade her homework too. She protested -quite loudly, actually- and it got her another essay due before the end of the week, as if the four she had already for Thursday wasn’t enough. By the end of the reprimand, she was ready to kill Périda the next time she saw him; the idiot was smart enough to flee as soon as the teacher dismissed them.

Her next class wasn’t as bad; however, her mood had been ruined already and couldn’t pass as quickly as she hoped it would. By now she was hungry as well as pissed, and in need of a cup of coffee and a sandwich to at least calm one of her burdens.

“Well, don’t you look dandy, my love.” Her best friend greeted her as soon a she stepped in front of their table, smiling sarcastically when she responded with a scowl.

“I’m in no mood for that shit, Em.”  

“I can see that. Are you even going to tell me, or should I ask my crystal ball?” Emilia arched her left brow, sipping her cup as soon as she asked her question. Ámbar flipped her off.

“Mom took my car this morning, I had to take the stupid bus and was late for my first period, Gastón was a dick on Roman’s Law class and got me an extra essay for Friday. Happy?”

Her friend nodded, “I am, actually, because my day has been fantastic, thank you for asking. Yours, however, sounds shitty as fuck.”

Ámbar rolled her eyes, “don’t remind me, I still have IPL to go through; but whatever, I’ll survive. What about you? Didn’t you have a test today?”

“I did, and I totally murdered it. Wanna go with me and Benny to celebrate after class? He brought his car today, we can pick you up and drop you off, too.”

“Can’t. I have a thing to do for Fab & Chic after class.” Ámbar took a bite off her sandwich, ignoring when Emilia almost choked on her bagel.

“You’re kidding, right?” Ámbar shook her head, “you already accompanied them to that stupid bar on Saturday, what more do those pink princesses need from you?”

“They? Nothing. This is all me.”  

Emilia scoffed, “stop talking on riddles, A, what are you planning?”

She took a sip of her coffee, “you know how we met that pop band at the bar and Delfi and Jazmín interviewed them, posted the video last night?” Emilia nodded, “well, I met the guitarist and got him to agree to give me an interview today. I’m meeting him after class at the same bar.”

“Why?”

Ámbar could tell her friend was confused. Truth be told, so was she. Journalism was nowhere near her ambitions -or dreams-, but something deep within her thought it was a good idea. She always followed her instinct, and most of the time (if not all, as they have never failed her) she was right, so this wouldn’t (couldn’t) be an exception. She was more than confident that this would benefit her somehow.

Who knew, maybe this would be what could finally put Fab and Chic (and consequently Delfi and Jazmín) up there in the spotlight of Journalism.

“Publicity, attention. This could benefit me in the future, y’know.”

“Your future isn’t in Journalism, though.” Emilia pointed out, arching her left eyebrow again.

Ámbar shrugged it off, “my name would still be out there.”

“If you say so. Well, are they giving you a ride?”

“Who?”

“Jazmín and Delfi, duh.”

She sipped on her coffee, “they don’t know anything about it. I told you, this is all me.”

Emilia’s face was disbelieving, “so you’re meeting this guy, alone?! What the fuck, Ámbar?”

“The guy is a softie, Emilia. Honestly, I don’t think he’d hurt a fly, he seemed very… I don’t know, weak?”

“As do most serial killers, Smith.” Emilia rolled her eyes, not yet convinced that it was a good idea. Ámbar waved her off with her hand.

“I’ll text you if it makes you feel better.”

Her best friend huffed, “fine. Now, why in the fuck are you wearing a beanie?”

If she hadn’t been pissed before, she certainly was now.

Not only was he 20 minutes late, but the stupid bar that had taken her one full hour to get to was closed. Had the idiot had really dare to trick her? Who the hell was he anyway? A stupid, barely talented guitarist and singer from an even stupider, not even that famous wannabe boyband. He couldn’t have stood her up. She was Ámbar Smith, not once in her 21 years had she been stood up in a date- appointment before. And she wouldn’t allow it; if she had to search for his stupid ass all over the city and drag him to make sure he kept his word, she would.

That insensitive, stupid, good for nothing of an idiot. The nerve of-

“I’m here! I’m here! I’m so so so so so so so sorry I’m late!” the idiot wheezed out as soon as he was near, almost knocking into her when he stopped running, “Nico forgot to do the laundry, so I had to do it myself since my clean t-shirts were -1 and then Pedro kind of made the microwave explode when he put a metal spoon with his popcorn, not sure how that even happened to be honest and then-”

“I don’t care! Do you know how frustrating it was to endure one freaking hour in public transportation to be here in time and then wait half an hour more to wait for his majesty to arrive?! And for what? The stupid bar is even closed!” She was fuming, gesturing wildly to the building.

“Well, what did you expect? It’s 16:30, bars aren’t usually opened until 18, the earliest.” His words only infuriated her more.

“Then why are we here?!”

“It’s middle ground for both, and there’s this really good Mexican coffee shop around the corner I really like.” He shrugged her anger off, and Ámbar swore she was surpassing a level of anger she had never felt before.  

“I was wrong, you’re a dick dressed in virginity.”

He blinked a couple times, not quite getting it. “What?”

She huffed, “nothing, whatever. Where’s this coffee shop you’re talking about?”

Simón looked at her for moment, but ultimately shrugged again and motioned for her to follow him. The coffee shop was around the corner, not really hidden but not in the spotlight as it was the bar; but it was pretty. It wasn’t stereotypically decorated as some of the Mexican restaurants she’d been before, but there was no doubt in her mind that it was Mexican-influenced. It gave her the vibe she’s get when she visited Emilia’s or that one time her dad took her to Cozumel for winter vacations when she was 17. The big Mexican flag behind the bar was a clear telling, too.

“What do you want? It’s on me, don’t worry.” Simón asked once they found a booth in the farthest corner from the door. She wasn’t sure if it was conceited or smart of him to do so, but he was paying and, y’know, doing her this favor so she couldn’t really complain. Not that it’s ever stopped her before.

“What’s good? What are you having?”

“Everything, really. I’m ordering the largest hot chocolate and a couple of conchas, though.”

She scrunched up her nose, “a couple of what?”

He laughed, “it’s a type of sweet bread, and it’s delicious. I could give you a taste of mine, if you want.” He offered, but Ámbar shook her head in negative. It really didn’t sound appetizing to her.

“Is Mexican coffee any good? I’m more of a coffee-type of girl.” Again, he shrugged. Either it was some kind of habit, or he really wanted to push her buttons, because it was annoying her to no end at this point.

“Mom loves café de olla, that’s all I know about it, to be honest. Coffee and I don’t get along.”

Ámbar frowned, unsure if she should really order it. She was super picky about food in general, and his unconvinced ass wasn’t any reassuring. “I’ll have a medium of those, then.”

He nodded, “do you want anything to eat? You can ask for anything, remember I’m paying.” Simón joked, shaking the wallet he held in his hand slightly. Ámbar scanned the menu written on one of the near walls, searching for something that could be safe to try.

“Tres leches cake, please.”

Simón saluted her, and went to the bar to order. It appeared he was somewhat of a regular, or that the boy behind the counter was a fan; because he greeted him all excited and not all dead like sometimes baristas did. She sighed, and decided to text Emilia and her mom that she was with him already, adding to her mom that she would probably not be hungry for dinner, and to cook just for herself. If she ended up hungry afterwards she’d make herself a soup or something. Instant ramen could do the trick.

Before she knew it, he was back with their drinks, the barista behind him helping with their desserts, saving him the double trip. Simón thanked him once everything was set on the table, tipping him extra five dollars before he took a seat in front of her.

He smiled at her once the boy was gone, “so, how was your day?”

“Shitty. How was yours?”

“Ouch, I’m really sorry I was late, seriously. It wasn’t intentional, I swear.” He apologized profusely, she just sipped her coffee. And damn it, it was delicious. “My day was mostly unproductive, except maybe for the laundry part. But I slept like a baby until noon and then had to save the apartment from Pedro’s unusual cooking disasters, so could’ve been better.”

She sighed, “it’s okay, it’s just that I hate taking the bus and then this asshole put me in trouble with a teacher and now I have double the work in that class due on Friday.”

“Double the ouch. Don’t you have a car, or couldn’t you take a cab?”

Ámbar arched her eyebrows, “my uni is forty minutes away, a cab would have charged me a fortune. I do have a car, but my mom took it this morning, so I had to take the bus.”

“I’m sorry, again,” he cringed, “I can give you a ride home after we’re finished here, I can’t send you home alone.”

She thought about it for a minute, before nodding. A ride sounded much better than losing over $20 for a cab or the bus. Plus, free things were always nice.

“We should start, then. I have a paper to start for past-tomorrow and I’m sure whoever cares about you won’t want you coming super late.”

“Alright, but I do have a few rules.” He parted one of his conchas, before dunking it in his hot chocolate and biting it, “nothing about relationships and all the questions are a game.”

“Hiding a girl, are you?” she inquired, sipping once more on her coffee. Simón winked at her.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Fair enough.” She nodded. “What’s the game about, though?”

He took another bite of his bread before answering, “you have to guess the answer to each question, and I’ll confirm or deny. If you guess right, you can ask another question and this time I’ll have to answer.”

“Are you kidding me? What kind of game is this?” she huffed, angrily taking a bite of her cake. She was almost too mad to not notice its deliciousness. Almost.

“One you have to play with me since I’m helping you and feeding you, for free.” Simón arched his eyebrow, she merely shrugged. It’s not like she was forcing him to pay, he was the one to offer it, anyway; “and plus, it’s gonna be more fun for both. I know it.”

“Fine, let’s do it.” Ámbar sighed. His smirk kind of gave her the creeps, “what?”

“Don’t you want to know what happens if you’re wrong?”

She looked at him dubiously, “you’re not going to ask me to do anything illegal, are you?”

Simón laughed, “no. You just have to answer the question you ask, and I get to ask one that you have to answer.”

“But you won’t answer it correctly?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.” He shrugged, “you can start now.”

Ámbar sighed, and took out her phone to start a voice recording, because she was too lazy to film it or write it all down in paper. She was going to keep it easy on him, to give herself time to think of some-what-safe questions.

She had to give it to him; he wasn’t stupid at all. This little game of him would make it practically impossible for her to guess correctly on deep questions, ultimately turning them on her. The guy wasn’t dumb at all.

“I don’t like you anymore, just so you know.”

“Ah, so you liked me before?” She almost rolls her eyes.

“Your favorite color is blue?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Would you say fame is what you expected?”

“You won’t hold back, will you?” she guessed it was rhetorical, so she didn’t say anything. “It wasn’t. There’s many shades to fame that I never thought existed, that’s all I’m telling you for now.”

Her curiosity was dying to ask what he meant by that, but chose not to dive into it yet. She didn’t think he’d answer, anyway.

“You’re a dog person?”

“Another yes. You know me so well!” he joked, finishing the last piece of his first concha; sipping his hot chocolate afterwards.

“What can I say? I’m a great guesser.” Ámbar was very thankful she’d googled him before coming, “does it bother you when people put you in a category just because of how you’re positioned in the industry?”

“I loathed it. There’s more of me than what I choose the media to see, more than what I let other people around me see.” Simón frowned, his hold on the bread getting too tie and crumbles of the shell (she guessed that’s why they were called conchas) falling down on his cup, “but I’ve thicken my skin, and now I mostly shrug it off.”

“Uh, your best friends are your band?”

He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with mischief; “not quite.”

“What? But goo-” she almost slips it out, “then who?”

“Nope, you don’t get to question me, it’s my turn now.” He teased, shaking his head, “have you always wanted to study journalism?”

She cocked her brow, “I’m not studying journalism.” He seemed to be thrown off by this, and his face was so funny she almost laughs in it. “I’m a law student. A junior, actually.”

“Then why- what?” Ámbar shook her head.

“Nah-uh. My turn. You own a dog?”

“Nope, mom does.” He looked smug, now. “Why did you want to interview me if this has nothing to do with your career?”

Ámbar sighed, annoyed with herself for trusting a stupid google interview. Either they were lying, or Simón was twisting the truth. Whatever it was, she wasn’t happy at all.

“The Fab & Chic was a project I had with Jazmín and Delfi last year, it was an optative class and we had to create a blog to practice our writing, photography, programming and editing skills. I didn’t help that much back then, and they were cool with it, since it wasn’t a main priority for me or my career. I guess this interview is a way for me to pay them back. And, well, it might help me get some recognition later, if it does what I’m expecting it to be.”

“Which is?”

“Don’t you know the rules to your own game?” she snapped at him, making him frown and match her own.

“The game is off, now we ask whatever we want as long as it the other is willing to answer. Now, what are you expecting to happen?”

“It’s my turn.”

Simón shrugged, “so?”

“You’re infuriating.”

“On the contrary, I’m told I’m a very lovable person.”

“By who? Your mother?”

“And my grandmother. And my friends. And my fans, which are at least a million.”

“Well they’re lying to you.”

Simón leaned over the table, and got close enough so that she could see a small acne scar above his eyebrow. Such closeness made her a little uncomfortable, but couldn’t really move. Instead, her eyes were hooked to his.

“I guess you’ll have to find out.”        

#soy luna #simbar #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #my sl ff #my simbar ff #soy luna au #i cant remember all i tagged before but no this is not proofread #sofy

[deliverydefresas]

with my head in the clouds, i start to run and then i fall

I’m not sure what this is??? but i guess i can describe them as smol drabbles of simbar moments we’ve had so far. 

Possibly a part 1, not sure yet about that, lmao. 

No, it’s not proofread. 

She doesn’t know why she does it at first; why her instincts tell her to convince him she’s changed.

Part of her thinks it’s because he’s liked by everyone, that because if Simón believes it then Luna and everyone else will, too. Another part, a smaller one, isn’t as convinced. After all, he’s a great partner, and has always been nice to her. He’s never done something to justify her faulting him.

But, she can’t afford to be merciful, or emotional, or weak. From now on he’s just another pawn, another piece in the game she’s been carefully planning. She can’t afford to lose anything else, her pride is wounded enough.

The smaller part is ignored.

When she succeeds, and the situation is done, he’s just going to be residual effect; nothing of importance.  

She should’ve known better, though. Because, just like the song says, residual effects always find a detour from the way you expect them to take.

It’s almost comical how easily he trusts her.

She hadn’t been sure how to approach him, but now she has Jazmín’s stupid crush to thank. It seems, it’s made the girl smarter and helpful for once.  

Their time together is filled with music, and the occasional small talk at first.  He doesn’t fully trust her, but he’s keeping an open mind and more importantly, he’s willing to give her the sense of doubt. He hesitates at first, not sure what to make out of her, but soon enough he’s buying her act.  A smile, a few compliments and false self-pitying words and Ámbar knows she’s successfully sold her performance.

She’s trying to keep it light, following almost everything he’s telling her to change about her song. It’s easy, since he’s focusing solely on the task in the beginning; then, of course, Simón being Simón, throws the ‘f’ word at her.

He wants her to feel the song.

She tries not to let it show that she’s offended, especially after he asked her not to be offended, but she is. Never one to turn down a challenge, she tries it.

And fails.

So, she focuses on him, promising she’s going to keep trying later, asking him to sing the song he’s chosen for himself. He denies her, and she can’t help to question him. Suddenly, she realizes she’s willingly asked about him and his problems, shocked to find that she’s interested in the answer. She even gives him advice.

It’s almost comical how easily she broke out of her act, and didn’t even realize.

Jazmín is unbearable with her jealousy.

She reassures her he’s just a part of her plan, and lies when she tells her they talk about the redhead when they’re alone.  

Both are lies.

He’s back at it again with the feelings. She tries, and succeeds, but it’s not enough yet. She’s going to keep trying. Ámbar Smith doesn’t settle for less.

He goes on about the meaning, about how the other person makes you feel like you’re touching the sky and being two fireflies. (He calls her pretty). She wants to scream at him that she knows, that she’s the one that wrote it, that’s not her fault she just can’t connect with it as much because it just hasn’t happened yet.

She doesn’t.

Instead he’s not-so-subtly asking her to leave him alone so he can rehearse his song. Ámbar’s been curious to find out what he’s singing, so she insists on staying and offer her two cents. It’s obvious to her the song has a deep meaning to him, since each word is coated with emotion. He’s also nervous, so she claps and cheers him a little more than necessary, but still offers her honest opinion. After that, she reminds herself what his purpose to her is, so she suggests him to ask Luna for help; she knows by now that it would create a conflict if she was helping Matteo, too. When it’s clear her comment worked, she offers to go outside and take some time off.

He vacillates but ends up agreeing.

Then they’re outside, eating their melting ice cream, he tells her just how much Reik’s song means to him. Apparently, it’s the first he learned to play on his guitar, and one of his grandmother’s favorites, who he loves dearly and has a special place in his heart because of this.

She feels a lot better when she knows it’s not completely about Lunita.

Ámbar doesn’t let herself dig into that.

She steals Simón’s guitar thingy, and her plan goes perfectly when Luna misses half of Balsano’s performance.

But, of course, she gets back just in time to see the end, and Matteo doesn’t waste time to show just how cheesy he can be. It fails, so she might as well go and try to gain brownie points with Simón when she ‘finds’ the missing piece.

He’s so thankful he kisses her hand.

She grins.

Ámbar has to remind him to go on stage or else he’d be automatically disqualified; and even if she doesn’t plan on him to win, he deserves to at least have a fair chance. She owes him that.  

She calls for Jazmín, and her idiot of a friend has the audacity to defy her.

The make-up is horrible, unsalvageable. And then he’s there, offering his support and reassuring her that if anyone would be able to pull it off, it’d be her. His words are magic because they work. She doesn’t feel pretty, but she feels confident, and she’s so moved, she’s suddenly hugging him as tightly as she can.

He hugs her back, and she allows herself a couple seconds there. His arms feel very good, and his aroma is really, really nice. The feeling of someone else’s eyes makes her own open, Jazmín’s thrown aback face make her feel smug because her little tantrum backfired right on her ass.  So, she hugs him a little tighter, smirk visible to her so-called-friend just for two seconds, before she pretends to notice her.  

She tries to play the hurt card, but Simón won’t allow it. He dares to defend Jazmín. She’s pissed at this, but conceals it as nicely as she can and asks him to leave them alone so they can talk. Ámbar knows just what words to say to leave her feeling worse, and then sends her away too.

She needs a few moments more to talk herself into performing.  

Eyes on her had never bothered her before, but now all she can think about it’s how much they’re judging her and the meme’s the internet will offer later. She scans the crowd, and her gaze sets on him.

He’s smiling, nodding for her to see he’s there, encouraging.

So, she sings.

Ámbar belts out every word, her eyes searching. every other lyric, to his direction just so she can confirm his attention is still on her. Between the cheers the crowd’s giving and Jazmín’s pout because her little charade didn’t work, she feels invincible.

All attention is on her, and she loves it. For the first time in what feels like forever, she feels on top, in control. She feels at home.

The song ends and she feels both smug, and proud of herself. Her eyes flicker to his without her consent, and find his proud grin and approving face – a look she hadn’t seen in a while directed at her. It feels super nice.

She likes it.

Ámbar doesn’t know it yet, but if the song wasn’t about him before, it sure is now.

#simbar #soy luna #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #my sl ff #my simbar ff #again im not even sure where im going with this but i hope you enjoy at least

[deliverydefresas]

it seems to me, for every time, i’m getting more openhearted

okay here i am catching up with prompts that have been sitting on my waiting list since the beginning of the time. this in particular has been there, half written since before season 2 started lmao 

and tbh, at this point i can’t even remember who asked for this so im so so so sorry but i hope you like it still

im trying my best to finish most stuff before lutteo’s ficweek but we’ll see how that goes xD 

what even is proofreading am i right 

prompt: simón comforting ámbar after being left by her squad (delfi bc of pelfi’s break up and jazmín bc she has a crush on simón but he has one on Ámbar)

“Why the long face?”

She had been distracted watching (and cursing) her two friends three tables away from her; mad at them for being childish and leaving her sitting alone, making her look like a complete friendless loser, that she hadn’t realized when the guitarist had taken the seat beside her.

Simón’s voice surprised her.

Ámbar turned to look at him, but was unsurprised to his always present grin and friendly eyes looking at her, honest concern hiding behind them. She almost groaned out loud.

The least thing she needed was to talk to one of the reasons her friends were acting ridiculously for.

“I was born with it, can’t really do much about it.”

His grin got a little bigger.

“It’s a pretty face,” he agreed, “but I’m sure a smile would make it even prettier.”

She had to contain the grimace from appearing on her face. “Right.”

Simón laughed, “I’m just trying to be nice.” She didn’t know what to respond to this, so she just waited until he said something else. Simón paused for a moment, unsure how to continue and do what he had come for; he then looked past her, and nodded to where Delfina and Jazmín were, before finally asking, “did something happen between you and your friends?”

“Corny and nosy.”

“It’s called being nice.” He tried to defend himself, but it only made her shake her head at him, “you can tell me, you know? I won’t judge or tell it to anybody.”

“Anybody but Luna, I’m guessing.” She snorted, not believing his word. The boy grimaced a little, however, it didn’t stop him from trying again.

“I tell Luna a lot of stuff, but I can keep secrets, Ámbar.”

She eyed him carefully. After being her skating partner for three months, she knew he was a nice guy. He worked hard, and would fight anyone to defend what he thought was right, even her. They’ve had their own little disagreements over steps and lifts, but the moment they stepped out of the rink it’d be as if her little dabs were never told, and go to his usual friendly and nice self. He was like his best friend in many ways, always choosing to be nice over a grudge. She guessed that’s why they got along so well, because they were basically the same person split in two bodies.

“I doubt it,” he was about to protest, but she didn’t let him, “and you can stop. We both know you know why they’re acting this way.”

“Pedro may have told me a little, I guess.” He admitted sheepishly.

“Delfi blames me because he keeps turning her apologies down, as if I was to be responsible for his attitude,” she huffed. Simón blinked a couple times, confused.

“Weren’t you the one that told her to change?”

“She was the one who decided to come back and. I never told her to.” Simón could tell his words had offender her, so he placed his left hand on her right, squeezing lightly as an apology, as she continued, “and independently if she changed or not, that’s on them, I can’t do anything to help with that.”

Simón stared at her for a minute, and she looked right back at him. He was clearly looking for something. What, she couldn’t guess, but she could play along until she found out.

“Fair enough,” he finally said, and folded his arms on the table, “what about Jazmín, though? How come she took Delfi’s side when she…” he thought about it for a second, “idolizes you?”

“Don’t remind me.”  

As if she would tell him Jazmín was mad because she thought Ámbar liked him.  Which, by the way, was ridiculous. First, she couldn’t believe her friend was stupid enough to go after a guy who clearly had no interest in her, and secondly, she couldn’t believe said friend blamed her for said guy’s lack of interest.

“Do you miss them?” he asked softly, when he noticed the frown she now held on her face. She had forgotten he held one of her hands on one of his, so when he started making circles on it with his thumb she was surprised once again.

“Well, they’re my friends.” Simón’s lips twitched when she blinked at their hands, “stupidity and all, I like them.”

“You should really stop calling your friends stupid,” he half joked, half meant it. “Or bringing them down altogether. That’s not what friends are for.”

She sighed, “stop. I know, okay? I’m trying.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Okay, I believe you.”

Her frown deepened, “you don’t sound convincing, guitarist.”

He ignored the nickname, and leaned in a bit closer to her. His eyes held such sentiment, she felt a bit lightheaded. Stupid beanie boy, with his stupid nice guy attitude.

“It’s just, isn’t it better be the hero of your own story than being the villain in someone else’s?”

“Are you implying I’m evil? Because, rude.”

Simón laughed, taking distance and shaking his head at her comment.

“Not all villains are evil, Ámbar. Some are misunderstood.”

“You’re still saying I’m a villain, and again, rude.” She retorted, deep down offended he thought such a thing of her, but she could understand where he was coming from. After all, she had spent most of the time he’s known her trying to ruin his best friend’s life.

“Here I am, trying to be poetic and you’re killing me.” He mocked offense.

“Believe me, I’m doing you a favor.” She raised her eyebrows, “somebody’s gotta save the world from your sappiness.”

Simón chuckled lowly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as Ámbar rolled her eyes at him, something that happened a lot. Ámbar was sure he was already used to it, since it happened so often both off and on the rink, many times directed at him. He must have seen it so much he was becoming immune, or simply didn’t mind.

“I beg to differ,” he joked, “many people love my sappiness and corny lines.”

“Equally sappy and corny people, I’m sure.” Jazmín came to her mind, and added “or very delusional ones.”  

Simón, who hadn’t taken off his eyes of her, noticed the little twitch in her face when she spoke the last sentence, and how her eyes travelled once again to Delfi and Jazmín’s table, and asked, “is Jazmín the delusional ones?” Her back tensed, but didn’t turn back to him. Instead, she continued looking straight at her friends. “I’m going to take your silence as a yes. Is that why you’re fighting? Because you think Jazmín is being delusional with something?”

“I don’t think she is, I know! How would you call being after a guy who clearly has absolute no interest in you? I’m just telling her the truth but of course, I’m just being the mean, bad friend!” Ámbar’s scowl was deep, disgusted at the situation.  She just wanted to scream at Jazmín to have some self-respect, but the girl was enamored by the idea of the boy next to her, and would listen to nothing.

“I’m sure Jazmín just wants a little support from you. I mean, what if the guy is interested in her and you just don’t know?” He was trying his best to sound calming, and she was grateful. However, that didn’t stop her from laughing in his face.

“Are you, though?” she turned to look at him in the eyes, his own widened when he realized what she was asking. “Am I lying? Are you actually interested in her?” her words were sharp, daring him to prove she was in the wrong. Gulping, he shook his head.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like her, she’s a nice and funny girl but she’s not- she’s just-” he sighed, “I just can’t see her as more than a friend.”

“She’s set on that you’re soulmates, and thinks I’m telling her to forget about you because I’m crush-” Ámbar stopped herself a second too late, and Simón definitely caught on her slip.

He inclined closer, teasing smile with underlying hope in his eyes, “you’re…?”

“Nothing. Just Jazmín being Jazmín.” She shook her head, and avoided his eyes once again. His smile weakened a bit, but didn’t push the subject, which she was thankful for. The least thing she needed right now is to talk more about inexistent crushes.

“Well, miss Smith, I think you’re a good friend.” Ámbar’s barely audible huff made him take her hand, squeezing a little so she’d look at him. When she did, he continued, “Seriously. You could have encouraged a fantasy and give her false hope, but you chose to be straight forward about reality. Jazmín’s going to thank you one day, especially after I tell her I’m not really interested.”

Ámbar frowned, “she’s not going to be thankful, if anything, she’ll get crushed.” Maybe blame me more, her mind added.

“She’ll have you and Delfi to fall on.” His smile was soft and reassuring.

It only made her doubt more, “aren’t you forgetting they’re pissed with me?”

“Now, not for long. I’m going to talk to Pedro, so he can talk to Delfi and maybe get their business straight. They both have been stubborn for too long.”

She looked at him for a long moment. Her eyes searching for something to indicate he was lying, but she could only see honesty and open concern.

“Why are you doing this? I’m not your friend, you don’t have to help me.”

Beanie boy grinned, amused at her words, “you’ve said so yourself, I’m a nice guy, I like helping people.” He tapped her nose slightly, confusing her and making her frown a bit more.

“You’re a weird guy, Simón Álvarez.” She sighed, erasing her frown; her lips twitched upwards as she went to sip on her drink.

“I believe the words you’re looking for are thank you, Ámbar Smith. But I’ll let it pass this time, because we just became friends.”

“Keep dreaming, you sap.”

Ámbar nearly chokes on her smoothie when he spoke again, even daring to wink at her.

“Oh, I will, except… In my dreams, we’re more than just that.”  

#soy luna #simbar #my simbar ff #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #honestly what is this #idk #it's just simón and ámbar talking hooray #im super sleepy so i might nap after this is posted lolz #ily guys thanks for keeping up with me even when i suck #also in need of a title go with the name of the game lol #sl ff #simbar ff

[deliverydefresas]

okay so idk what the f happened with this post bc it’s nowhere to be seen on my blog so here i am posting it again (no title as of yet, but it’s about simón’s birthday)

there’s even a part 2 | more of my sl ff | more of my simbar ff   

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

“Shut up, Jazmín,” she couldn’t either, to be honest, but she didn’t want to be discouraged of what she was about to do, “and help me find Lunita.”

South Blake College wasn’t big enough to get lost into, but she’d been searching for her underclassmate for almost twenty minutes now, and she didn’t want to waste any more of her lunch break.

“What do you need her for, anyway? Can’t you talk to her on the roller?” Delfi complained from behind her, not really happy she was wasting her lunch, either.

“And risk Simón finding out about his party? Even you are smarter than this, Delfina.”

Her boyfriend’s nineteenth birthday was only a week away, and she’d decided she wanted to throw him a party to celebrate it, mexican themed. It’d been kind of a last-minute decision, (the theme anyway, she’d though about a party ever since he told her his birthday) and it had proved to be more stressful than to plan a party for herself.

Luna wasn’t originally part of her plan, but it’d be like killing two birds with one stone. One, she could get as accurate as possible with all the mexican stuff she’d google’d and two, Simón would stop pestering to be Luna’s friend. Ámbar knew nothing would make him happier than finding out his two favorite girls -as he called them- got along enough to plan his birthday.

And so she needed to find her Godmother’s niece. But after another five minutes, her patience had run out, and decided to call for help.

“Where are you?” She asked as soon as the other person accepted the call.

“In the library, why?”

Ámbar ignored Matteo’s question, “Is Luna there with you?”

When he confirmed that in fact, his girlfriend was with him, she hang up and turned around to go the library, motioning to her friends to follow her.

When she reached them minutes later, she wasn’t surprised to find all three nerds, plus Lunita, reading books and taking notes on their notebooks, empty toppers scattered on the table. She frowned at the fact they’d already eaten and she hadn’t.

“Luna!” The girl raised her head in her direction, confused, “I’ve been looking for you, I need to talk to you about something.”

The brunette looked even more confused, “To me? About what?”

“Simón’s birthday, of course,” she answered, “I’ve been meaning to ask you to help me plan his party.”

Luna’s eyes sparkled with interest, “seriously?” she questioned, and when Ámbar nodded, she exclaimed, “of course I will! What do you have in mind?”

“He’s been talking about how much he misses Mexico lately,” she recalled, thinking of every time he’d comment about his country last week, “so I thought it’d be good to bring Mexico to him.”

Luna squealed, excited, “that’s brilliant! My mom could help us with the food, and maybe my dad could find a mariachi band to sing him happy birthday!”

“You could even get him a piñata,” Gastón chimed in, “it’d be fun.”

“Aren’t piñatas only for children?” Nina questioned, looking between her boyfriend and her best friend.

“Well yeah,” Luna agreed, “but Simón loves piñatas and not everyone has experienced one, so I think it could work. Oh, you know we could-”

“Right,” Ámbar interrupted them, not really into the conversation anymore, “we can discuss the specifics later, Lunita. But can you ask Mónica about the food?”

“Of course! She’s gonna make all of Simón’s favorites, maybe even a tres leches cake!”

She wasn’t sure what that was, but nodded anyway. As long as his boyfriend liked it, it was okay. She had to trust in Luna’s food taste for this one.

“Excellent!” She looked at the four of them, “obviously you’re all invited, I already talked to Pedro and he agreed to let us use the J&R,” when Delfi cleared her throat, she remembered they still needed to eat, “now if you excuse us, we have to go.”

When they turned to go, Luna’s voice called her. Ámbar almost rolled her eyes, but begrudgingly stopped and looked at her again.

“Thank you, for including me, I mean.”

The grin she sent her way made her uncomfortable, so she just mumbled a “you’re welcome” and left; she had no intention to get closer to her, or turn into her new friend. This was all purely for Simón’s sake.

The look on his face was completely worth of the three hours of sleep she got last night.

He’d been all day at the rink, distracted by every soul she could convince to ask him for help, and skating with both Luna and Nina, who had offered to serve as distraction, so he had no idea of whatever his girlfriend was up to.

His eyes had gone all wide, his mouth slightly open, hands on his hair. And then the biggest grin she’d seen on his face had appeared. Simón looked around, from one face to another, until his eyes landed on his girlfriend.

“Did you do this?” He asked her, looking at her, happiness as clear as crystal. Ámbar shrugged, but smiled nonetheless.

He engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug (seriously, she could swear one of her bones cracked), “Lunita helped me, actually,” she told him, still in his arms, “she got you a piñata and convinced Mónica to help us with the food.”

“I love piñatas!” He laughed, and she mentally sighed in relief. When Nina said it was for children she worried it wouldn’t be appropriate for a nineteen year old’s birthday, or that he’d find it childish. It was Luna who had assured her it was a good idea.

“Happy birthday!” Luna was bouncing beside them, Matteo not so far away, holding a cup full of ice cream.

Smile still in place, Simón went ahead and hugged his best friend, thanking her. After that, all their friends and even some costumers, stopped by to wish him happy birthday, some offering presents. He thanked every single one with the same excitement as the last one, unknowingly making everyone in the room as excited as he was.

Two plates of mole, one of cochinita, and about a litter of horchata later, they found themselves eating dessert. She had a slice of Mónica’s famous tres leches cake, and a cup of hot chocolate. Her boyfriend, however, was extremely gross and had decided he wanted lime ice cream with a weird spicy hot sauce. She didn’t even know how Lunita had the idea of it, but the only people who dared to try it were them and her parents -and Gastón, who had claimed he would never trust his bro’s girlfriend ever again.

“It’s not as gross as it looks, babe.” He’d swore for the ninth time, but she shrugged him off, again.

“Desserts are meant to be sweet, not sour and spicy, Simón.” Her protesting went to deaf ears, and her boyfriend pouted.

“It’s my birthday, at least try it. For me?” Ámbar bit her lip, but surrendered with a nod. Simón wasted no time and scooped a bit of his weird mixture, and brought it to her lips.

The grimace on her face told him the veridict.

It was sweet, but sour and had the smallest kick of spice. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either.

“You mexicans are out of your minds.” Was all she offered, scrunching up her nose.

With a laugh, he nudged her shoulder, “thank you, little gem,” she raised her eyebrows at him, “for the party. The fact that you went to Luna and asked for her help,” he explained, “it’s the best present you could’ve gotten me.”

She shrugged again, stopping herself from frowning at his words, “I guess the ‘no gray hairs’ shampoo I got you was for nothing,” she joked, trying to erase her insecurities from her mind. Simón was with her, and he liked her- not Lunita. Her.

“You got me an anti-aging shampoo?!” If his laugh was any indication, he wasn’t mad. So she smiled.

“Well, yes, but that’s not your actual present,” the nonchalant tone in her voice made him curious, “I meant for them to arrive today, but the flight was all booked, so they’re arriving tomorrow.”

“They?”

She hummed in approval, “yeah, they- your parents.” She looked up at him, and saw the shock on his face. Ámbar almost giggled at it, but restrained herself from doing so.

“You booked my parents a flight to come here?” His face still shocked, his voice emotionless.

“Yeah,” she didn’t know if it had been a good idea now that he wasn’t showing any positive emotion, “was I wrong?”

The only response she got was a kiss.

Simón cupped her face, slowly but his lips were firm on hers; she could taste the slight bitterness of the lime and whatever sauce he’d put on his ice cream, but that didn’t stop her from feeling the warmth she got every time he kissed her.

“I love you so much, Ámbar.”

She froze, and her breath hitched, not really sure what to say back; the words foreigners to her ears. He seemed to notice her uneasiness, so he kissed her nose and pulled away, smiling.

“You’re going to love meeting them.”

What?

#i can't even remember how i tagged it #def not proofread im sure #simbar #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #soy luna #simbar ff #my simbar ff #sl ff #my sl ff

[deliverydefresas]

as we burst into color, returning to life

Hello, yes I am alive and still writing. Surprising, I know. 

A promise is a promise, so here it is. I had honestly forgotten about it, so thank my polish twin for reminding me i owed you this third (and final?) part of these angsty-ish babies. 

I reblogged part 1 and 2 earlier last week, but if you missed them, here they are:  the blood in my veins, is made up of mistakes (part 1)  let’s forget who we are and dive into the dark (part 2) 

more of my sl ff | more of my simbar ff | all the “drabbles” 

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Ámbar, however, only felt her heart crumbling each day he was away. Or, more precisely, each day she kept him away.

It had been a hard task, breaking his heart. Especially since she didn’t know anyone who deserved it less than him; Simón deserved better than to have fallen in love with someone as weak as her. Someone who couldn’t even go against other people’s controlling wishes and against their happiness.

Her godmother’s pleased smile when she confirmed their fall out had her feeling sick.

Nothing had her feeling more disgusted with herself than Simón’s attitude, though. The boy, unsurprisingly, after his melt down on his apartment the Wednesday she finally found courage to speak to him, ignored her most of the time. He tried to make it as less obvious as possible, but she knew him, and she caught up on it the week after his absence on the Roller.

He’d still say his greetings, and offer a small smile when he took her (and her friends’) orders, but after than he’d tell Pedro to drop their order by their table and then proceed to get lost the rest of the afternoon. Once or twice she’d asked Pedro about it, but he’d always shrug it off and offer no answer. Delfi told her it was his way of showing his loyalty to Simón, without appearing too rude, since she was his girlfriend’s best friend.

But even when he ignored her, he somehow still made sure she was okay. She knew he was the reason Luna had left her be without pestering her with questions (she did throw her a glare or two the first days after they’d confirmed they were no longer a couple, though) and both Delfi and Jazmín had admitted more than once that he’d ask them about her, wondering if there was something she needed help with.

“Why does he have to be so nice?!” she mumbled into her fisted hand, before sipping a little of her mango smoothie. Delfi’s giggle made her realize she had spoked out loud, so she cleared her throat to cover up her embarrassment.

“Who are you talking about, Ámbar?” Delfina teased, still giggling over her friend’s slip up.

Even Jazmín let out a small laugh, “It’s Simón, obviously.”

She scoffed, “no, it’s not.” Her best friends looked at each other for a split second, and hummed in unison.

“When will you stop lying to yourself? Just admit you miss him and fight for him, Ámbar.”

“When will you stop talking nonsense and let this die? We’ve both moved on, you should too.” Jazmín snorted as soon as she stopped talking, not believing a word she had said.

“Ah, of course, of course! Have you told your heart, though? Cause it looks like you’re anything but over him.”

“I don’t have time for your meddling! If you were my friends you would’ve dropped this already months ago!” She was about to stood up and leave them, when Delfi caught her arm, stopping her from doing so.

“It’s only been a month, Ámbar.” The brunette deadpanned, “but independently of how much time has passed, we’re your friends and we care about you. You can’t lie to us about how you feel because it’s obvious to us that you miss him.”

“And he misses you too,” Jazmín was quick to add, “otherwise he wouldn’t be looking at us right now like we’ve kicked his puppy and is ready to come fight us.”

Ámbar turned her head at that comment. And, surely enough, Simón was behind the bar looking at them with a frown. The moment he realized she’d noticed his stare, though, he looked away so fast she was almost sure he got whiplash. She sat down again.

“Just talk to him, Ámbar.”

She shook her head in negative, “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

“So, tell him you won’t be getting back together. If you want him to move on like you oh so clearly say you have, then tell him the truth. You owe him that.”

“Why do you even care?”

Delfi pursed her lips, “because we know guilt is eating you alive. And we want both our friends back, not just the shells you’ve become.”

The next day, classes were a blur. She couldn’t concentrate and would spend long periods of time spacing out, her brain replaying Delfi’s words on her mind.

She’d be lying if she didn’t admit the last month had been awful. Break ups were never easy when you truly liked someone, and the time that follows them is always one of self-discovery. You pick up traits and mannerisms without noticing, your likes shift to fit your partner’s, and, without realizing, you think for the both of you instead of for yourself most of the time.

Basically, you change.

She was still coping with that. She’d lost count of how many times she’d found herself imitating Simón’s ticks, or choosing blue colored clothes because her brain automatically went to how much he loved her in that color.

It had only been a month, but the struggle to forget about him felt like years.

“Thinking about me?” She rolled her eyes when she recognized the voice. Her guess was confirmed when she saw him sit at the front of her desk.

“You wish, Matteíto.” The boy offered her a grin.

Being one of the only people who knew the real reason she’d break it off with Simón, Matteo had been a pretty good supporting system. He knew her well enough to not push her buttons and give her space to think, while still low-key making her open up about the subject. He was also the intermediary when Luna couldn’t keep quiet, and wouldn’t judge her when she asked him to ask his girlfriend about Simón.

“You seem distracted,” his comment was casual, but she could hear the hint of worry underneath.

“I’m just thinking.”

“Seems pretty important, since you’ve been doing it all morning.” He raised his eyebrows, encouraging her to talk. She just stared blankly at him.

“What do you want, Matteo?”

“That’s cold,” he tried to joke, but her blank stare didn’t fade, “can’t I ask what’s on your mind? Jeez, Ámbar.”

“Nothing of your concern. Now leave.” Matteo just smirked.

“As if. Just spill the beans, bee.”

She glared at him for a good minute, but Matteo’s smirk never faltered, so she gave up knowing he wouldn’t leave her alone until she spoke her mind.

“I’m going to talk to Simón.” Her answer threw him off for a second, and he nearly fell from her desk, “I’ll tell him the truth and explain myself.”

“Why?” his disbelief was crystal clear.

“The girls talked to me and, honestly I’m tired of this… guilt and remorse. He deserves better, and he deserves to know the real reason I broke it off. I owe him that much.”

“I’m… surprised.” Matteo admitted, and she rolled her eyes, “and I’m very proud of you. Although…”

“What?” She questioned, leaning more into her chair. He sighed, and looked straight into her eyes.

“You just made me lose $20 dollars to Gastón. Can’t you talk to him next month?”

She slapped his leg so hard he fell off the desk.

On the way to the Roller she was a mess of nerves.

She kept bouncing her leg, and was reminded of yet another tick she got from Simón. Her nervousness was so much, she had actually told Tino to take as much time as he could to get there. Which was hard, considering the Roller was only ten minutes away by car.

When she finally reached her destination, she spent a good five minutes still in the car. Ámbar only got off the car when the constant beeping of other cars exasperated her. She ordered Tino to be nearby in case she needed to escape, and with a sigh, she entered the Roller.

Simón was nowhere to be seen when she stepped in.

Ámbar had looked for him on the rink, the lockers, backstage and the bar, but he wasn’t there. She was about to give up altogether and go home (and probably let Matteo win his bet and not talk to him for another month) when she saw him getting out of the storage room, laughing with Nico.

She felt her heart squeeze a little, knowing that his laugh would vanish as soon as he saw her. She stopped walking, and waited for them to notice her standing there.

Nico saw her first, and, as expected, he stopped his laugh to send her a glare. Unlike Pedro, who still acted civil to her because of Delfi, Nico made it pretty clear he didn’t like her and would often ignore her or be as cold as possible. She admired his loyalty, but didn’t like his attitude one bit; deserved or not.

Simón turned to where his friend’s glare was directed to, and his smile was gone. Instead of a glare of his own, his face and eyes were pure shock. He was taken off guard, and seemed to be on a trance when, after a moment, he made no intention to move.

She cleared her throat, “I would like to speak to you, Simón.” Nico snorted.

“He’s busy right now, sorry.” The blond tried to push his friend, but Simón still didn’t bulge.

“He can speak for himself, Nicolás.” She told him between her teeth, forcing a smile.

“Well, I’m his friend, and I can tell you he doesn’t want to speak to you.” He was about to try and drag Simón again when said boy stopped him.

“It’s okay. I want to hear what she’s got to say.” Simón looked at her, and her heart fluttered. His eyes were warm, his voice soft.

Beside him, Nico couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “but, Simón-”

“I think I’m going to take my break right now, Nico. You can go without me.” When his friend made no intention to leave them alone, he sighed, “I need to do this, dude. Please go.”

Nico glanced between the two, torn, but nodded at the end and left them alone; not before throwing her one last stare, warning her. She almost rolls her eyes at his dramatism.

There was an awkward silence when they didn’t know how to continue. He kept looking at her, expectantly, while she bit her lip trying to figure out how to begin.

“Do you want to go to the park? Will that make it easier for you?”

His offer was answered with a nod and a breathy, “yes.”

They walked in silence. Simón a couple steps behind her, letting her lead to where she would be comfortable the most.

They’d almost reached the end of the park when she stopped, and motioned for him to sit on one of the empty benches. He nodded and went to sit first, untying the sweater around his waist to laid it on beside him, where she would sit.

So, she wasn’t the only one who was having a hard time getting rid of old habits.

She sat down, thanking him. She was wearing white shorts, so she would’ve hated to get dirt on them, and he remembered that. He gave her a small smile.

“So…” he started, urging her to speak.

“I’ve missed you.”

His little gasp told her that’s not what he was expecting.

“Ámbar-”

She interrupted him, “but that’s not why I asked you to come here.”

“No?” She shook her head.

“I, um, I owe you an explanation.” She looked down at her lap for a couple seconds, before gathering enough courage to look at him in the eyes, “I want apologize first, because what I did, that Wednesday, I just, it was uncalled for. I should’ve done this before and um, I’m really sorry I made you suffer all this time. You deserved better.”

“It’s okay, you did apologize that day.” He tried to make it better, but it just made her more upset.

“Don’t try to justify me! I just left you there, confused and hurt and crying and-” Simón was about to talk again, but she just shook her head again, “how can you sit here, look at me and not hate me?”  

“Because I know you, and I knew it was just a matter of time before you came and clarify your actions. I just needed to give you time and space.”

“You should be mad! Angry, Simón!” she just couldn’t bear to see him so calm. He had no reason to.

He frowned, “I was mad, however, that was weeks ago. Now I’m just- I can’t say I’m not upset, you did hurt me; but I don’t hold grudges, you know that.”

She tried to smile, “you’re too good.”

“Do you want me to hate you? Because that’s all I’m getting from this conversation.” Simón’s tone held humor to it, and Ámbar knew it was his way of telling her to explain.

“That would make it easier.” She murmured, more to herself than to him. And it was true. Maybe if she knew he hated her she could force her mind (and heart) to stop caring about him and forget him once and for all. “Anyway, the real reason I um, did that was because of my godmother-”

“I know.”

She blinked, “you know?” Simón nodded.

“I overheard Delfi telling Pedro about it a week after… that.” He admitted, shrugging his shoulders a little.

“Oh.” In her mind, she was killing Delfina and made a mental note to murder her after this talk was over.

“What I don’t get, though, is… was your lo- your interest in me so little you didn’t think of fighting for us? To send it all downhill just to fulfill your godmother’s wishes?” For the first time since they’ve started the conversation, he sounded doleful. “I would’ve been there for you. I would’ve helped you.”

It hurt because it was true. “I know. I think… that’s why I was scared. I can handle my godmother when it’s about me, but when I add you in the mix, it’s just, I don’t think I could handle it.”

He got closer, leaning towards her, his right arm almost touching hers; and whispered, “why?”

“Because she could hurt you… the band, your career. It’s bad enough I let her break us up, I couldn’t bear letting her break your dreams too.”

His next words sunk her heart even further into sorrow.

“You were one of my dreams.”  

“I know, and I’m sorry I let her break it.”

Things weren’t 100% fine after that, nor did they went back to where they left it. They weren’t together, but they weren’t apart anymore, either. In the vaguest explanation ever, they just were.

He didn’t ignore her anymore, he’d gone back to her cheery and polite way when he came over to her table, offering her smiles and free cookies, and stay a couple minutes talking about her day at the Blake. Sometimes he’d even agree to spend his break skating with her on the rink, just like he did before.

His friends were still wary, but tried their best to warm up to her again. Her friends, on the contrary, squealed in delight when she told them she had talked to him. Matteo whined about his lost bet but offered a big smile afterwards, reminding her again how proud he was of her.  

They decided to give it time before they told her godmother, since fixing their relationship was a bigger priority, and neither wanted to put it at risk again so soon.

She could tell he was being cautious this time around from the beginning, since he didn’t jump to his corny and touchy-feely side of a boyfriend right away. There were times when she surprised him looking at her like he couldn’t believe she was there, by his side, with him. The moment he’d realize he’d been caught though, he’d smile so big his dimple would show and her heart’d flutter.

Things weren’t 100% fine yet, but they were working on it; together.  

#what is this who knows not me #not proofread bc im me are you even surprised lol #2.7K words of ????? #lolz #simbar #simbar ff #my simbar ff #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #sl ff #my sl ff #soy luna #hope you liked it still

[deliverydefresas]

and when she knows what she wants from her time, when she wakes up and makes up her mind...

AAAAH i know this took a century and im really sorry, but i hope you don’t mind mixing these two together + making it part one of another prompt that’s to come xD 

y’all should know by now that this is not proofread lmao

The constant ticking of the clock was starting to get on her nerves.

She’d even lost count of how many times she had sighed and huffed in frustration as she sat on the kitchen isle, waiting for her boyfriend to finally appear through the backdoor. Had she known he’d be late she would have sent Mónica and Amanda away with a more extended list than what she had.

“Hey, this is Simón, unfortunately I can’t speak right now; but please, unless you’re Nico, leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Bye!”

“I swear, Álvarez, if you’re not here in the next minute I’ll ditch you and you can wave your girlfriend goodbye.” She dropped her phone on the isle, tapping her nails in exasperation against it. Time was running, and she was sure the employees would be there any minute now. Two minutes passed, and still nothing.

Ámbar was about to call him again, when his voice resonated on the room.  

“Ouch, I won’t even get a kiss? Just a wave?” her eyes flew to her boyfriend’s figure as he crossed the kitchen to her, phone on his ear as he listened to her voicemail.

“You’re late.” She informed him, arms crossed. Simón had the decency of smiling guilty at her.

“I’m sorry, baby. Last minute re-dos of a song went longer than expected.” He got closer, arms dropping on her thighs, “don’t be mad, I’m here before Mónica and Amanda, aren’t I?” he pouted, tilting his head enough so his lips could rose hers and kiss her.

Ámbar, however, turned away, “not here,” she hissed, and looked around to make sure no one was in the room. Simón laughed.

“You’re cute when you worry.” He said, kissing the tip of her nose, loudly. His girlfriend rolled her eyes, and pushed him away to get off the kitchen isle; then turned to him accusingly.

“I told you to be here before six! It’s almost six thirty, Simón!”

The boy’s pout came back, “I didn’t mean to, babe, I swear.” Ámbar didn’t tone down her glare, “Love, don’t be mad at me,” he puckered his lips even more, she still was having none of it, “little gem.”

He stared at her, puppy apologetic eyes and pout in full force; until, finally, she huffed away her glare. “Let’s go.”

Simón winked, taking her left hand on his right, leaning in for a quick kiss on her cheek before she leaded them to her room.

No matter how many times he’d entered her bedroom the last six months; Simón still got surprised at how girly and just plain Ámbar it really was. It was big, two times the size of Luna’s room downstairs; and, from the soft pink walls (who, he’d found out, were pink since the day she moved there), the white furniture with hints of gold and blue; the fancy dressing table and mirror, to the pretty decent sized closet and rows of shoes and skates, the whole room screamed Ámbar to him.

His favorite part, however, were the framed pictures she had all over the room; especially those that showed a younger Ámbar, all cute and adorable looking. He also knew she had one of them hiding on her bedside table, taken on one of their early dates by Jazmín, away from everyone else’s eyes but hers. Part of this because it was essential that her godmother didn’t find out about them, and the other because she liked to be selfish about their relationship and not really show it to the rest of the world.

Within the minute they were in, he flopped down on her bed, waiting for her to sit down beside him.

She didn’t.

Instead, she stood in front of her bed, arms crossed, and frown glued to her face. He sighed, knowing well what was coming.

“If this is about me being late, again I’m really, really, really, really sorr-”  

“It’s not about that,” she interrupted him, “it’s about my godmother.”

Simón got serious immediately, “is everything okay? What did she do now?” Ámbar smiled a little.

“You’re very cute when you’re worried,” dropping her arms on her sides, she joined him on the bed. Simón wasted no time to sit down properly, and arranged their positions so she would be between his legs, encircling his arms from behind her.

“You’re joking; so, it’s nothing bad, then?” He felt her sigh.

“Yes, and no.” Her answer was vague, so he tilted his head enough so he could be see her face a little better, “but I don’t want to talk about this yet. How was recording?”

He respected her wishes, so he nodded, “it was very, very slow. Pedro and I had to re-do some vocals that for some reason got erased from yesterday’s session, and Nico wasn’t any help. He kept changing tones until I told him to pick one and stick with it.” This got him a smile.

“Look at you, being all sassy. Who are you and what did you do to my sweet and innocent boyfriend?”

“You took the beanies off and boom! New Simón!”

She gasped, “I took the beanies?”

Her boyfriend shrugged overdramatically, “I’m sure you’re the one who stole them from me, you can admit your crime now. You loved them so much you just had to have them.”

“I cannot believe you.” Her body shook in laughter, making him smile widely. He really, really, really liked having this effect on her. Making her laugh, relax, be herself without a worry from the world; he treasured this more than anything.

“Don’t think I didn’t recognize my white beanie when we went ice skating weeks ago, love.”

“That was only one! And you gave it to me because I was cold!” she slapped his hands lightly, in a joking manner.

“You still kept it.”  

He knew she had. It wasn’t that he’d lost his beanies altogether, no, but that he’d accidentally put chlorine once when washing them, and now they were all sort of… unwearable. The only one that got saved had been his white one, and she’d kept it so he was left with no beanies (he knew she was already planning on giving him new ones for their monthversary or however it was called, so he was in no rush to get new ones) for a while.

“I did.”

They were quiet for a moment. He was sure she was preparing herself to tell him whatever was on her mind; she wasn’t one to keep quiet about her feelings with him, not anymore. She would take her time, maybe go around the bush a little, but never actually stayed quiet about it. Ámbar couldn’t hide the truth that well when he was around.

“Simón?”

“You’re ready to tell me what’s on your mind, little gem?” he asked softly, taking away one of his hands from her waist to rub small circles on her back.      

“I’ve been thinking about her, and about us…” he stopped moving, his back tensing as soon as those words together left her mouth.

“You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

She blinked.

“No?” Tension left Simón’s body and he sighed in relief, and went back to rub her the small of her back, “I’ve been thinking maybe, I don’t know, maybe it’s time we tell her we’re dating.”    

“Now?”

Ámbar blinked again, “well, obviously not right now, you fool.”

He chuckled a little, “I know that, what I meant to ask was; why now? What made you change your mind about her knowing if we’re dating or not?”

She let her head drop on his shoulder, “I just, I think maybe it’s time. I’m tired of hiding in my own house,” Her blue eyes caught his brown ones, “I’m tired of being a coward, of being controlled by her even when she doesn’t know she is doing it. I’m just tired of it all.”

Simón studied her for a minute. Her face looked the same, but there was something in her eyes that he’d never seen before; something that made his heart flutter with warmth.  He separated himself from her, and changed their positions so now she was sitting in front of him; face to face. One of his hands cupped one of cheeks softly, while the other held her hand in support.

He got closer, close enough so their lips were mere millimeters apart, and whispered, “I’m so proud of you, little gem.”

She stopped breathing, anticipating a kiss. At the last second, he changed his course, and instead of kissing her lips, he kissed her shoulder… and then moved her hair aside and began a trail of butterfly kisses up to her neck. He was sure it tickled her so, before she could start giggling, he covered her mouth with his.

His stomach turned somersaults of excitement while one of her hands buried itself in his hair and the other stroked his cheek.

It was all nice… until Amanda opened the door on them.

They both jumped off each other, Simón being careful not to send Ámbar flying off the bed in the process. Amanda stood the door, her mouth opening and closing like as if she were a fish, and hadn’t he been embarrassed enough, he’d laugh at her surprised face.

“What are you doing, Amanda? Don’t you know how to knock?” his girl shrieked, her usually pale face as red as a tomato. He could feel the heat on his cheeks, so he was sure he was blushing too.

“I’m so sorry, Ámbar! I came to check if you wanted to join us for dinner and-”

“And you didn’t think you could knock?!”

The house keeper was mortified, too, “I swear I did, miss, but you didn’t answer and the door wasn’t locked so I thought-”

His girlfriend’s red face turned to him, “you didn’t lock it?!” her hiss was enough to make him gulp. She glared at him, warning him he was going to get an earful as soon as they were alone again.    

“What is this scandal? What’s taking you so long with Ámbar, Amanda?”

Color drained from all of their faces. Ámbar cursed under her breath, her eyes glued to the door behind Amanda. Said woman looked as if she was scared for her life, and he was sure she was praying she wouldn’t get fired for this.

Simón could only think one thing.

“We’re so screwed.”  

#im so sorry but im not even sure what this is myself lmao #simbar #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #soy luna #sl ff #simbar ff #my simbar ff #my sl ff #mine