#he’s always been there for eliott and now eliott has been there for lucas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

killherfreakout · 4 years ago

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half of who i am isn’t all my fault

a series about hands and where they touch.

part two: your hand under my chin

[a/n: bipolar disorder, mixed state of mania and depression.]

* * *

The world is ending.

At least, to a twenty-something artist in Paris named Eliott Demaury, it feels like it is. And he can’t decide if he wants to sit there and watch or throw caution to the wind and go down with it.

It’s another quiet weeknight in the city, late enough that the partygoers are on their way home but early enough that people aren’t up for work. So the world is continuing as normal, and yet, it feels like Eliott is on the edge of it and about to fall off.

And there’s no one to blame but himself; no one to blame but his chemically imbalanced and traitorous brain, on the brink of consuming every last semblance of control he has left, in the middle of a sleepless night. Eliott knows this feeling too well, and no matter who much he tries to fight it, his attempts are futile.

Eliott finds himself sitting on the edge of their bed, and he watches as Lucas’ parted lips huff out soft breaths in his sleep. He looks ethereal, like some kind of angel sent to watch over Eliott when he wants to give up on himself, always there when he doesn’t know he needs him. Lucas is some kind of perfect dream, in between real and imaginary, as he lays there like he has no idea the sight he makes.

Lucas said once, after Eliott made him try his special omelettes, I’m glad you have one flaw, otherwise you’re just too perfect to be real. And Eliott knows the way people look at him, like he’s an entity only good for his beauty — although, if he has anything to say about it, he would argue he’s the furthest from that — and not a person with real human emotion underneath it all. The thought makes a cruel, humorless laugh bubble up inside his throat.

And he doesn’t want to be the asshole who’s ungrateful for his conventionally attractive features, but every time it comes up, it just— it feels like it’s the universe’s twisted way of overcompensating for the ugliness that hides beneath the shiny surface. It makes this shame and guilt swirl inside of him, and there’s this voice mocking him, saying, if only they knew. If only they knew how flawed this body is, how close it is to breaking.

His boyfriend’s peaceful state somehow magnifies Eliott’s awakeness, and his body feels heavy but his mind and heart feel like they’re going fast enough to run a marathon. Like he has all this energy he needs to burn but he’s stuck inside the small apartment as the world ends inside it, and seems to keep going outside of it.

Inevitably he finds his cigarettes on the ledge of the living room window, and goes through one before he even realizes he’s smoking it; he goes to light another but gets annoyed at the busted lighter, deciding to raid the fridge for something to wash down the nicotine.

A gust of wind outside reminds him of the outside world, his body somehow not big enough for everything he feels inside, like he belongs out there. But he can feel himself coming down, feeling like he fits inside his body again the more he breathes, and he tries with all his might to stay afloat before he crashes.

Eliott lays on the cold floor of their bedroom, his head against the wall under the window and legs bent at the knee with his feet against the foot of the bed. It’s not quite comfortable but the position allows him to see some of the sky over the tops of the buildings outside, including a few stars that shine through the darkness.

He lays there for a while, just looking at the tiny shining stars and melting into the cold floor, trying to focus on the sound of Lucas’ tiny breaths from the bed.

There’s a star that peeks through a small cloud as it passes by, and Eliott can’t tell which one it is or which constellation it belongs to, but he knows that it’s one that moves around the North Star, like all the others do. Then a thought comes to him: he’s like one of those stars. He’s always changing and going in circles, sometimes hidden behind clouds in his mind, not visible to anyone. The thought could be dreamy and romantic, comparing himself to the stars, but with the current state he’s in it feels like a curse. Like the pole his life revolves around is his bipolar disorder, where he has no choice but to let it decide his course.

It makes him feel so small and so alone, always at war with his mind and with himself. The stars seem so far away, and he’s just left lying on the cold floor in his own apocalypse that no one can see.

His eyes wander across the ceiling, unfocused and frenzied as these thoughts keep swirling around his head, hands clenching at his sides.

There’s shuffling on the other side of the room where Lucas tosses in the bed, groaning before calling, “Baby?”

Eliott registers the sounds but can’t break his focus from the ceiling of his mind and the room.

“Eli, where are you?”

Lucas calls his name a few more times, the sound getting further and further away as the younger one searches the other rooms of the apartment. Eliott wants to scream for help, wants to tell Lucas, I’m here, I’m here, but he can’t.

Somehow, though, he seems to beckon him back.

There’s footsteps and then a source of light, and Lucas almost trips over Eliott’s legs where he still rests on the floor by their bed. Lucas sighs when he realizes he’s found him, sleepy features illuminated by the blue light of his phone. His eyes are squinty from the light and his hair is a perfect mess all over his head, a few strands falling down to his eyes. He still looks like an angel - and here he is, to save Eliott from himself like he knew he would.

“There you are,” Lucas kneels on the floor by Eliott’s side. Eliott finally focuses on his voice and his presence, his angel. “Come back to bed, baby.”

Eliott doesn’t move, can’t move. Lead has settled into his bones trapping him to the floor, and every nerve screams to get up, to go back to bed with Lucas, but there he lies, paralyzed.

“Oh, Eliott,” Lucas’ smile disappears, thumbing away the tears that Eliott didn’t even know were flowing. His voice is soft and loving just like he is. “What’s going on?”

His eyes close to the words, no doubt causing more wetness from his eyes. The thumb wipes it away again, so gently, it’s like magic.

Subconsciously Eliott registers Lucas’ concern and the way he asked, noticing how he asked what’s going on? instead of what’s wrong? — because something doesn’t necessarily have to be wrong to make Eliott feel like this, because what Eliott feels right now is something that happens sometimes. They’ve had plenty of experience with this exact moment, when Eliott is close to losing himself and Lucas makes sure to keep him from going too far.

“Lucas…” His voice is weak, his throat closing and breath stuck somewhere that can’t get out. Eliott can feel the touch again, this time firmer, more real. Lucas leans down to be closer to him, and keeps up that brushing on his face, but it’s overwhelming all of a sudden, and there’s no simple answer to his question and—

Eliott finds some strength, or just a fighting response, to turn over and away from the touch and warmth of Lucas. He misses it as soon as it’s gone but stays in his new position with his back turned to the other boy. Lucas doesn’t reach out again, just leaves him be. Eliott is glad his boyfriend is respecting his space but can’t help the guilt setting in that he pushed him away. Eliott lays there quietly, though his mind is anything but. He doesn’t know if Lucas is still there when he finally finds his voice again.

“I was doing so well, I thought I might have finally had some control over this. But it just came out of nowhere and—”

Sudden panic washes over him, because it never really comes out of nowhere, and if it does, there are signs he can recognize so he’s at least a bit prepared.

Eliott thinks of the fact that he hasn’t slept more than a few hours in the past three days, and how tired he doesn’t feel until right at this moment. But he was so focused on his art projects and so excited with how they were coming together, the time seemed to fly by. That happens sometimes, just getting swept up in inspiration and letting it take him away - without triggering an episode. Because he prides himself in his passion and creativity, and how he uses art to sort through his feelings and express his truest self. The thought of his recent works being the product of his mania rather than his own intention makes him so angry and upset that he was born with a brain that always ends up letting him down.

But now in hindsight he doesn’t know what to think, or what exactly triggered these feelings, or how he got here, or what will come next. Eliott had been diligent with taking his meds and going to his weekly sessions, but now that he thinks about it, he can’t remember if he took them yesterday and—

Eliott lays with his back on the floor again. “I should have seen this coming. I knew I was doing too well that something was going to happen, and it’s always the same shit.” He tilts his head back to look at the stars again, and imagines himself as one of them. “No matter how hard I try, it's like nothing I do is ever up to me. And I have to deal with myself for the rest of my life.”

It’s silent again and Eliott has a moment of terror that he’s completely alone, like he’s the last person on Earth and shouting into an endless, dark void.

“Hey,” the sound is like a beam of light breaking through the dark void, like another lost soul is greeting him, saying, I’m here, I’m here.

Lucas hasn’t left from his place next to him; he’s laying on his side facing Eliott on the hard floor. Eliott doesn’t look at him, though; he doesn’t want to see him look at how much of a mess he is. He knows Lucas doesn’t pity him, and he’s so glad for that, but the way Lucas has so much love and care in his eyes makes Eliott only feel more undeserving of it. So he stays on his back and glances from the ceiling to the endless sky.

“Hey,” Lucas says again, in a soft whisper, but firm this time. “Eli, can you look at me?”

Eliott doesn’t want to be like the stars and revolve around his bipolar. Maybe he can find a new way to navigate, by following a new star, a new pole that is a fixed point in his life. Like the one in front of him now, made of stardust and blue eyes and love.

He swallows thickly, his breath finding a way out as he catches sight of Lucas. Eliott was right, there’s so much love in his beautiful, still sleepy eyes. Even though Eliott is turned on his side to face him, he tucks his head down to his chest.

Lucas comes a little closer, and slowly reaches a hand out to Eliott as not to scare him. He runs his hand over the fabric of Eliott’s chest where his heart beats fast underneath, and gently uses it to lift his chin so that Lucas can see him.

Eliott lets him, lets Lucas position his face to open up to him, lets himself be seen. But he’s stubborn when he gets like this, so he still looks down and away from Lucas who still has Eliott’s chin in his hand.

“Breathe,” Lucas says calmly, looking into his eyes. Eliott keeps their gaze this time; Lucas’ is more direct and practical now, communicating more than his voice. Eliott lets out an excuse for a breath, more like a quiet sob, and then Lucas says again, “Breathe, in and out.”

Lucas watches as Eliott tries again, but it’s still impossible. He wants to look away again but the hand under his chin won’t let him, the fingers there softly tracing the frown on his face as if to smooth it away.

“Listen to mine and try to breathe with me.”

It’s then that Eliott decides that Lucas is his North Star, even if just for tonight. His mania and his depression and his anxiety and his sleepless nights will always be there, but right here and right now, he uses every last ounce of control he has to listen as Lucas’ chest rises and fills with air and slowly deflates.

Eliott tunes into the sound of every breath, and soon he somehow finds that he’s breathing in time with them.

“There you go, keep breathing,” Lucas reassures, his hand moving from Eliott’s chin to his shoulder and slowly down his arm to where his hands lay in front of him on the floor.

After some time, Eliott’s heart rate is slow again, and he’s exhausted. He’s about to fall, into real sleep for the first time in days, and Lucas is right there with him.

Lucas’ voice sounds like it’s on the other side of that void, far away but extremely close at the same time. “I’m sorry you feel like that, and I wish I could say the right thing to make you feel better, but all I can say is that you’re right, it sucks. I mean, I’ll never know exactly how you feel, but I’m acknowledging that it must feel awful. But I do know that you’re so much stronger than you think, and I know that you are so much more than your weakest moments, and that I’m right here with you through anything.”

Eliott’s eyes are heavy and his mind is starting to drift, but the words make him hold on just a little bit longer. He flutters his eyes open to see Lucas staring back at him, the smallest sleepy smile on his lips. Eliott does his best to return it, even if it’s a lazy slant of his mouth.

“I'm sure it must feel really lonely sometimes, but I’ll keep reminding you that you’re not alone.” Lucas’ hand is tickling down his forearm, and he intertwines their fingers to bring them to his lips, leaving feather-light kisses across his knuckles. “And I can’t wait to deal with you for the rest of my life.”

My angel. It’s the last thing Eliott thinks before he surrenders to sleep, his hand still in Lucas’ where they lay on the hardwood floor.

When Eliott wakes it’s to the sun shining at a low angle into the room, and he tosses in the bed to shy away from it, bumping into a hard body on his side. Lucas is sitting against the headboard smiling down at him, greeting him with a good afternoon, my love.

After a few long moments of waking up, still coming to and vaguely remembering his state the previous night, Eliott swallows though his throat is dry and regards his boyfriend looking all awake and beautiful.

“Did you carry me to bed?” Eliott asks half in awe and half in confusion. He’s done the same for Lucas countless times, but he doesn’t think his boyfriend ever has.

Lucas scoffs but he has the widest, most beautiful smile on his face. The kind that is contagious even when Eliott is not feeling up to smiling.

He gets him to drink some water and take his meds, and Eliott is too tired to fight it.

“Remember when I said you were stronger than you think? Well, so am I.” Lucas smirks with a quick raise of his brows, and Eliott goes to bury his face into Lucas’ neck and shoulder, his absolute favorite place in the universe.

“I love you,” is all Eliott has the energy to say, before he rolls over and goes to sleep a few hours more. Lucas laughs that soft and adorable laugh of his, and joins him under the covers. My love, my light, my angel, my star.

#skam france #elu fic #elu #skamfr fic #mywriting #hands and where they touch

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peaceoutofthepieces · 5 years ago

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Okay, so I really want to attempt to give my opinion on this Eliott drama. Because I’ve seen a lot of strong opinions and none really match up to mine and I just want to throw in my two cents and look at it a slightly different way. I know that the spoilers are affecting everything, and I think that’s rather unfair, because I think they were blown out of proportion in the first place and that’s really stopping people from enjoying the season and looking it rationally.

Firstly, I don’t think Eliott lying about this is out of character. It seems incredibly in character, in fact. It makes so much sense to me. I do completely believe he’s doing it in an attempt to “protect” Lucas. Which yes, is stupid. People do stupid things, and lying is a main one of things. And once you start with a lie, it often spirals and grows and goes on longer than you thought. And so you just keep letting it go on. It gets harder and harder to explain and come out with the truth. And so you just keep it to yourself. It’s doing less harm that way. Eliott actually going to these things isn’t hurting Lucas but if he explains now that he hasn’t told him before because he doesn’t want him to worry, it would make him worry.

If you look at their minute by minute clip, or basically any of s3 (and s4) it’s clear why Eliott thinks Lucas would worry about him. These things are a bit illegal, right? Not conventional. A bit unusual. Probably not the safest (Otteli’s the one climbing to all the weird places, isn’t he?). It’s possible, really, that Eliott thinks Lucas would not only worry because of that, but because he might think it’s a result of a manic episode. That Lucas would draw it down to his bipolar. Lucas attempting to look out for him in this same clip with the weed and everything kind of supports this idea. Eliott loves Lucas for taking care of him, but he’s very aware of how aware Lucas is of his illness.

There’s also the fact that Lucille probably would have seen it as a manic episode. Lucas isn’t Lucille, and Eliott knows that, but that doesn’t change the fact he’d been in a relationship with Lucille for years and that it only ended about a year ago. Those kind of things become ingrained in you, and they’re hard to forget or shake off. Eliott is probably so so used to hiding things that his partner would take as a result of his illness. Lucille probably took so many things as a result of his illness. He told Lucas he would lie about things, even if it was just about taking his medication. Habits of communication are very hard to break or change. Eliott is probably trying. He’s getting better at it. But it’s something you have to learn and improve on constantly, and it makes sense that Eliott isn’t there yet. That doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do, but people don’t always do the right things. People do stupid things. Nobody’s perfect. It has nothing to do with how much Eliott loves or trusts Lucas. It’s about his own mentality and instincts that he needs to work on.

That’s another big point. I’ve seen a lot of posts saying that they’re tired of this miscommunication because that was what they worked through in s3. But s3 is Lucas’s season. It’s about Lucas learning to communicate, not Eliott. We’ve been told s6 is used to show some of Eliott’s story. It makes sense that they’re dealing with it now. It’s probably going to relate to the s6 storyline somehow. To Lola’s storyline. Skam is all about the parallels.

Considering Lola is the s6 main.

Eliott getting close to her makes sense. Eliott is happy to find out they’re “similar”. He approached Lola at the funeral when she was on her own maybe because he’s just kind, likely because it reminded him of himself. Set apart. A bit “weird”. He approached her at the urbex party because he’d met her and it had been an interesting first meeting (considering Lola’s speech) and he hadn’t seen her at any of them before. And he probably thought, “oh, do we have this in common too??” Eliott doesn’t have anyone like himself. He and Lucas love and know each other but Lucas isn’t like him. Meeting someone who has the same lonely vibe and the same interests is something different. It’s nice to have someone like that, that you have a sort of instinctive understanding with.

That’s what Eliott sees in Lola and why he finds it easy to talk to her. There are people that you meet that you have an easy connection with. Some people have a dozen people like that, some might only have one or two. Eliott is likely the latter. It doesn’t mean he and Lola are suddenly BFFs, or that he’s obsessed with her, or any weird stuff like that I’ve seen going around. They’ve interacted a few times and Eliott feels comfortable around him and is happy to see her. Why is that weird?? That makes me really happy.

I’ve seen things going around too about how it’s weird that Eliott would be befriending this odd group of friends and doesn’t have his own college friend group. And tbh y’all, I’m personally offended by it. I have one main college friend and then just people I talk to occasionally in class or on the train. I don’t meet up with any of them outside of college. There are tons of people in my course who still sit alone in class. He’s in his first year! He’s awkward, a bit shy, he’s not a people person! Some people really don’t have many friends!! The Skam girl/boy squads are actually really rare representations!!! Eliott and Lola are the most relatable in my view. It makes sense that they relate to each other.

That doesn’t mean Eliott is falling in love with her or she’s stealing him from Lucas or any damn thing like that. It means they’re both finding friendship that they likely crave.

The age gap of what, three years? does not make it any weirder. If you have a sibling or a cousin or something like that with a three year age difference can’t you have a really good bond with them?? I’ve seen people throwing around words like pervert and if that’s what you think, you don’t even know what that means. Don’t throw around things you haven’t bothered to learn anything about. Words hold weight.

I’m not defending Eliott, because honestly I think he’s being an idiot, but also, it’s something that I could see myself doing. The last thing we ever want is to hurt or be hurt by the people we love. We do stupid things all the time to try to stop that from happening. We miscommunicate.

That doesn’t make this bad writing. That doesn’t mean Eliott is out of character. Constant relationship drama and miscommunication is tiring, but it is realistic. It’s life. Life is tiring. This is consistent and meaningful, if you look at it the right way.

#skam france

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demaury · 4 years ago

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open your heart (and let me know you want me here)

9k / friends to lovers / ao3 link

Here is the thing. When he started making that list, he was never planning on his best friend checking pretty much all the boxes right off the bat.

or; a childhood friends to lovers au

1- Someone who makes me feel something. Butterflies and fireworks and all that shit.

He’s fifteen when it happens, and as most things it doesn’t look like much of a big deal at first. It’s a Wednesday afternoon, and although it should be a regular one like so many others, there’s something unique in the fact that he’s sitting on the navy-blue carpeted floor of his bedroom, trying to figure out a math problem, while Eliott is humming to himself and scrolling down his phone on his bed. The setting isn’t what makes it all new, and much less Eliott’s presence — he’s actually one of the very few constants of his life, ever since the Demaurys moved across the street about a million years ago.

What makes it all new, scary, a bit foreign, is that it’s the first time they hang out, since he told Eliott he liked boys. Which- Okay, coming out to Eliott was really not the problem, really, it never was. He wasn’t… He wasn’t scared that Eliott would take it the wrong way, you know, he wasn’t scared that all of a sudden Eliott would start looking back at him with disgust, that’s not what it was about. He just… He just didn’t know how to word it out. When would be the right time, and if there would ever be one — but turns out there had been one. About a week ago, he and Eliott had been texting late at night, and when the conversation had drifted onto Lucille, more specifically Eliott’s lifelong crush on her — it’s not quite the truth, but two years feel a lot like two lifetimes when you think about it —, Eliott had jokingly suggested that Lucas should get himself someone too so they could go on double dates, once she finally agrees to acknowledge him.

(He doesn’t know why it’s taking her so long, and if he’s being honest, he’s a bit prejudiced against her because of this exact reason.)

Naturally, because old habits die hard, his first instinct had been to deflect. I’m not 45 yet, double dates sound boring as fuck, he almost wrote back, but at the last second he had erased all the words and went for Pretty sure I wouldn’t need you to make a fool of myself in front of my very hypothetical boyfriend instead. There had been a few agonizing minutes spent staring at the ceiling after that, phone turned screen down onto his mattress, while he nervously chewed onto his bottom lip with his stomach in knots; in the meantime, Eliott had flooded their conversation with offended texts, because ‘oh, so you just think you can keep me away from him??? That’s sweet’, and just like that, Lucas had felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Eliott asks excitedly, jumping in a sitting position so fast it makes the bedsprings creaks loudly, and Lucas hums in response, still frowning at his math problem without bothering to look back. He loves Eliott, he really does, but that boy has about a million things crossing his mind at all times of the day (and night), so he’s long given up on the idea of giving him his undivided attention every single time something like this happens. “What would you want him to look like?”

Lucas’ hands hover over his equation result for a moment as he blankly stares at his page in confusion, but then he throws a look above his shoulder, and he finds Eliott expectantly looking at him. “What? Who?”

“Your hypothetical boyfriend,” Eliott supplies, his smile widening when Lucas huffs and shakes his head.

“Don’t you think I have better things to think about right now?”, he groans, his attention drifting back onto his homework. He feels like he’s been twisting his brain over this for hours, and it’s not like he can possibly ask Eliott anything on the matter, because he may be two years older, when it comes to math he’s about as useless as a glass hammer.

“Better than thinking about the man of your dreams?”, Eliott gasps, and Lucas is about to tell him that this is all becoming extra cheesy for something that has no actual basis whatsoever when he adds: “You can’t find him if you don’t have an idea of what you’re looking for.”

“Because he’s going to suddenly show up, out of nowhere, just because I started picturing… I don’t know, some abs and a vaguely undefined hair color?”, Lucas snorts. He doesn’t make a habit of asking Eliott to be serious, because well, it’s Eliott, he’s got his head in the clouds a fair share of the time, but, like, come on.

But instead of picking his phone back up and moving onto another topic, one that doesn’t require Lucas’ participation at the very least, Eliott lets out an appreciative noise. “So you are picturing something, good start. Abs and… what’s the hair color again?”

Naturally, Lucas ends up smacking Eliott with his textbook — or at least trying to, because despite Eliott professing a lifelong hatred of sports of most, if not all kinds, he’s surprisingly quick and agile like a giant cat —, and, eventually, his idiot best friend agrees to leave it at that. Which would have been terrific, really, if his brain had agreed to do the same.

But later, much later, when it’s already dark outside and Eliott has been gone for hours, he finds himself thinking about it — that stupid, stupid idea. He can’t help but wonder, what if he’s right? What if he never finds anyone because he just doesn’t know what he’s looking for? Eliott has been crushing on Lucille for two years, but Lucas can’t even remember ever crushing on anyone. There’s never been anyone who made his stomach flutter, who made his mind go blank, who made his thoughts swirl around. There’s never been anyone who made his knees go weak, or turned his stomach to mush.

And maybe, as he keeps thinking about all the feelings everyone always talks about that he never got to experience, maybe that’s when he starts making it — maybe a couple of yearning thoughts are already the beginning of a list.

9- Someone who gives a shit

“How do they fit?” Eliott shouts from behind the bathroom door, and before Lucas has the time to reply he immediately adds, speech rate quickening like the words are tumbling down from his lips: “Because I’m pretty sure I can find something else.”

Lucas throws a glance at his sad reflection in the mirror, catching sight of the tee-shirt falling down mid-thighs and the shorts reaching below his knees; clearly not his best look, he thinks halfheartedly, flattening a couple of strands sticking up at weird angles at the back of his head. It’s only because he doesn’t want his best friend to take the door down that he ends up unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom.

“It’s fine, that will do,” Lucas mumbles, because honestly, he’s already crashing at the Demaurys’, it’s not like he can afford to be picky at the moment.

Eliott is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, and he gives him a sympathetic look — warm and gentle, honey-like in sweetness if not in color. “Good,” he nods, a nice smile stretching out on his lips as he slips into his bedroom.

Lucas follows him, shutting the door behind himself. Eliott vaguely smooths his comforter before climbing onto his bed. “What do you want to watch?”

Lucas twists his mouth a little, and for a moment he feels a bit lost without quite being able to tell why. He’s standing in this room he knows by heart, but still, it feels weird and alien. He uncomfortably rubs an invisible spot on his arm as he tries to process what’s different about it all. They’ve done that hundreds of times, he’s spent some of the best afternoons of his childhood and teenage years in Eliott’s house, in Eliott’s bedroom even, but…

But he’s never done that.

He’s never slammed the door after one too many fights and straight-up imposed himself at the Demaurys’, and judging by Eliott’s demeanor ever since he showed up, soaked wet from the rain outside, he knows he feels it too — it’s weird. It’s different. It’s not the usual excitement floating in the air.

“I don’t really feel like watching anything right now,” he confesses, fiddling with the hem of Eliott’s way-too-long tee-shirt. He’s just tired, he’s heard so much yelling today it’s like his ears are ringing.

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s fine,” Eliott says quickly. He pats the spot next to him until Lucas caves and joins him. “I just thought you might… I don’t know, like a distraction.”

“Being here is enough, don’t worry,” he says, maneuvering himself on the mattress before folding his legs against his chest, and honestly, he wishes that were true, he really does.

Because Eliott is Eliott, and he really doesn’t want his friend to feel bad about him any more than he already does — so Lucas does as he usually tries to do. He tries to shove it all as far down as possible, in the smallest corner of his brain, where it doesn’t hurt as much. He tries not to think about the fact that tomorrow is another day, that eventually he will have to come back home, and how much he doesn’t want that. He tries not to think that Eliott’s tee-shirt feels soft against his skin, and that even if it’s the weirdest sleepover they’ve ever had, even if something feels off, he still feels a thousand times better here than he does at home.

Eliott crosses his legs, and leans forward to reach for a pair of earbuds on his nightstand. “How about some music? You can choose whatever you want.”

Lucas’ eyes travel a few times between Eliott’s eyes and the earbud that is offered to him, and he picks up with a small huff. “Alright, okay.”

Eliott makes a small, content sound, like it makes him genuinely happy to spend the night with his grumpy self, listening to songs that aren’t even remotely close to his personal taste — and maybe Lucas goes along with it. Maybe he’s selfish like that, but this one night, he just gets along with it. He lets soft piano music soothe his mood a bit, slowly lulling him into sleep until his head gets too heavy and he has to drag himself to the guest mattress that has been set up for him like so many times before.

Crossing the street to go back home, that too he’s done a million times, but not often with that weird gut-feeling of walking right into a no man’s land. His dad’s car is nowhere to be seen, and the silence is deafening as he pads through the silent house. He shuffles upstairs to change before school, going about his morning routine with a weird tension lodged between his shoulder blades, his head too full of thoughts, and he’s shoving a biology textbook into his backpack when he sees it. It’s a DVD — Ratatouille. It’s, embarrassingly enough, one of those movies he could watch over and over again without ever tiring of it, and obviously Eliott knows, obviously, because they’ve watched it so many times since they were kids, and who else would have put it in there?

His mouth twists into half a smile when he picks up the DVD, a bright yellow sticky note on the front of the box. Everything is always better on Blu-ray, I promise ✳

11- Someone who fucking sticks around and doesn’t leave when things go to shit

A Blu-ray isn’t enough to make it all better, as it turns out, but Lucas surely appreciates Eliott’s gesture for what it is, and all those that follow later, when his family situation goes from bad to worse to terrible. He’s never made a habit of setting a stupid list of resolutions with every new year, but this time, and this time only, he’s resolved to stop thinking about that fucking new year. At best he’s allowing himself to laugh it off. Divorced parents? Funny as hell. Mom in a psychiatric ward? Hilarious. Family house on sale? Hysterical. They’re cruising around the near-empty supermarket, aimlessly going from one aisle to the next as Lucas picks up random stuff to drop them into the cart Eliott is pushing. It’s another Wednesday, it’s lunchtime, and he knows there’s nothing to eat at home, because there’s been no one to go grocery shopping for him.

“So what are you guys planning for tomorrow?”, he asks distractedly.

Just because he’s single doesn’t mean he’s clueless about the ways of those who aren’t — and he knows that tomorrow night is a big deal for Eliott, long before they even take left and stumble onto a sea of sugary pink and velvety red. An aisle has been pushed to the side at the center of the store to clear some more space for Valentine’s Day displays. The racks are filled with chocolates of all kinds and flavors, heart-wearing Teddy Bears, gifts, cards and even plastic flowers, but Eliott doesn’t really seem to pay attention to anything. Which, in itself, isn’t that surprising. He’s been dating Lucille for three months now, ever since they got paired together for some oral presentation at school and that it finally opened her eyes at how wonderful Eliott is, so Lucas doesn’t really expect his best friend to go for the first generic box of chocolates he finds.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Eliott says evasively, following Lucas when he walks past the Valentine’s Day area. “We haven’t talked about it much yet.”

Lucas hums. “It’s your first Valentine’s Day,” he points out distractedly, eyes skimming over various cereal brands, and he ends up reaching for a Crunch box that he drops into the cart, “I’d have expected you to buy balloons and a giant Teddy Bear or something.” Or simply to show up at Lucille’s window with a boombox, he almost adds, but he keeps it in just in time. Eliott doesn’t need any bad idea of that kind. Judging by his musical taste, it’s frankly better for everyone, starting with Lucille’s parents’ neighbors.

He hears Eliott toying with the shopping cart chain. “Luce’s kinda busy. Her parents are on her case with the BAC and all,” he says, and Lucas gives him a look, from his spot at the end of the aisle, that makes Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up innocently. “What?”

“Why are you lying?”, Lucas asks, squinting his eyes a little.

Eliott scoffs, but it comes out wrong — off-key. “I’m not lying.”

He’s definitely lying, Lucas thinks bluntly, and he rolls his eyes to himself. His best friend is so painfully transparent that he should probably be grateful about it, he should probably be happy that he’s able to read him like an open book, but instead he hates that Eliott doesn’t seem to have any clue when it comes down to it — it makes it even more annoying whenever he tries to lie to his face. “You are,” he retorts with a pointed stare. “What’s up? I thought you’d be over the moon or something.”

Eliott squirms behind the cart, his hands awkwardly drumming along the handle. “Oh, no I am, truly,” he says quickly, “I just thought we could… I don’t know, maybe go watch a movie or something. You and I.”

And there we go, Lucas thinks, and it’s like a weight is dropped onto his shoulders, making them slump with an inaudible woosh. There’s a pang inside his chest, and it’s not a big one, it’s not a breath-altering one, not those that make you want to curl into a ball and cry, it’s just the kind of sting that reminds you of a sore spot. A bruise still a little tender, a scar still noticeable.

“Are you asking me out, Demaury?” he snickers, trying to deflect the sudden change in the atmosphere, but he already knows it’s useless because he can’t be the only one going for it — they both have to play the same game, and he already knows Eliott isn’t willing to.

“I just think you might want some company,” Eliott says with a nice smile, and although Lucas loves that smile, he really does, this time it just doesn’t work.

“I’m fine,” he replies briskly, and he pulls sharply at the end of the shopping cart to move it forward. It’s a petty gesture that seems to startle Eliott, and he immediately feels bad about it. “Your girlfriend doesn’t need you to worry about me, she needs you to fuss over her.”

“But I-”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eventually Eliott nods, muttering a small ‘right’, and Lucas has to pretend he doesn’t want to rush out of here, lunch be damned. He hates it, he hates when Eliott is like this, and hates even more that it’s because of him. They walk through the store for a few more minutes, mostly in silence, only occasionally making a small comment or two about things they see on their way to the cash registers. Eliott starts filling the reusable shopping bags Lucas retrieves from his backpack while he pays a ridiculous amount of money for his purchases, and then they’re off.

“Hey,” Lucas mumbles pitifully as they reach the bus stop at the end of the parking lot. “I… I’m sorry if I was rude. I really appreciate what you do for me, everything, it’s just… I’m just trying to hold it together.” He looks away, tracing a weird line in the concrete from the tip of his shoe to avoid Eliott’s eyes.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t be pushy,” Eliott says, and there’s the faint trace of a smile in his voice. He leans down to squeeze the shopping bag he’s holding between his feet. “But I want you to know I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere, so whenever you feel like talking… I’m here.”

It takes Lucas a few seconds to look up, and there’s something so soft and gentle into Eliott’s expression that it makes something melt into his chest almost instantly. He finds himself mirroring Eliott’s smile, albeit lamely — not quite as beautiful, not quite as warm, not quite as reassuring. He finds himself thinking about what Eliott just said for a while, as they hop into the bus and make their way home one stop after the other. He's not going to accept his offer for Valentine's Day, because if anyone deserves to be taken care of on that special day, it's Eliott's girlfriend. But still. Maybe, someday, he can manage to find someone who just doesn't leave.

15- Someone who feels like home

It’s a long while before he thinks about the list again — he doesn’t even know where it is, but he guesses moving abroad for a semester tends to do that to you. He’s in his second year of uni when he jumps on the Erasmus offer, and between paperwork and packing up and unpacking and settling down and trying to, maybe, eventually, meet some new people to make the next three months of his life somewhat relevant on a human level, he doesn’t have much time to think about whether or not he’s going to meet the man of his dreams at the next street corner, much less whether or not he checks an inordinate amount of criteria.

Frankly, it’s not that big of a deal. Lucas has never been excessively hopeful about it in the first place, so he can’t really say it’s something that requires a lot of self-discipline. Occasionally Eliott brings it up over text or FaceTime, because he’s an idiot like that, and he’s his best friend, so of course he considers it his double duty to bring up that kind of corny, embarrassing prospect.

“I don’t know, he’s kinda cute in a way,” Lucas says one day, roughly two weeks after landing in Oslo, about some guy he’s met at a party. He’s dutifully sent Eliott his Instagram handle for approval, and for the past few minutes they’ve been going through his publications over FaceTime, like they’re back in Lucas’ old bedroom, with Eliott on his bed and Lucas sitting on the floor.

“He looks fifteen,” Eliott replies unhelpfully, snickering a little. “Didn’t know it was a turn-on of yours. Did that one make the cut?”

“Shut up,” Lucas scoffs, and he regrets not being able to send something in Eliott’s face in retaliation. Besides, he looks barely his age himself, it’s not like he’s in a position to comment about someone else’s appearance — something Eliott promptly dismisses as soon as Lucas points it out, because ‘Lucas, don’t expect me to tell you you’re not ridiculously attractive’, and he’s vain enough to take the compliment without arguing.

After that, well, he goes back to not thinking about it.

Final terms are rolling around and he crams for it, and before he can even catch a breath, it’s already the end of the semester and Christmas is right at the corner. He lands back in France three days before Christmas Eve, and of course he crashes at Eliott’s, because he hasn’t spoken to his father in nearly four months and a half, so it’s not like he even has options to choose from — but he has to admit, it feels nice, knowing he’s going somewhere he’s wanted. Eliott has been buzzing over it for weeks now, making plans for movie nights and places to go and people to see, so much that Lucas almost forgot to be sad about leaving Oslo.

“I’m so fucking happy to have you back,” Eliott says excitedly, voice a little too loud in the narrow stairwell leading up to his third-floor one-bedroom flat, and he’s so eager that he ends up bumping Lucas’ suitcase a couple of times between the stairs, the wall and the banister.

“Jeez, calm down,” Lucas huffs, “the whole neighborhood doesn’t have to know I’m here, thanks.”

Eliott opens the door of his flat with a nudge from his shoulder, not looking even remotely sorry. “Well, that’s just the beginning if we get a place together,” he singsongs, and Lucas shakes his head a little — but deep down, he loves it. His cheeks are hurting from smiling, and he feels his shoulders relax instantly as soon as he crosses the threshold. Nothing has changed since he left last summer. Not that he expected it to, but it’s always nice. In the small, cramped living room, Eliott has already prepared a pillow and a comforter, carefully folded to the side of the couch, and it’s not even that late (not even 10), and the flight wasn’t even long (not even three hours), but Lucas already feels very compelled into dropping himself there and wrapping himself into the blanket — so he does just that. He quickly nibbles on a leftover sandwich he bought at the airport in Oslo, while Eliott excitedly rambles about some renting options he’s seen here and there, and then he quickly sets up his bed.

His best friend is sweet enough not to make fun of him for it, and when he flips off the light on his way out of the living room with a cheerful ‘sweet dreams’, Lucas doesn’t think, for one second, he can love him more than that.

“How about this?” Eliott grins triumphantly as he turns the lion plushie he had growing up in his direction. Lucas isn’t sure, but he thinks it might have been supposed to look like Simba, before he proceeded to drag it everywhere with him until the color irrevocably turned a dirty mix of greenish-yellow and grey. “Don’t you miss him?”

Lucas huffs, shaking his head, and he turns back to busy himself with a heavy storage box filled with what looks like bedsheets and drapes of various kinds. “I’m way past needing plushies, thanks,” he snorts, reaching for the plastic lid of the box to replace it in its dusty corner.

They’ve been here for about twenty minutes, in the storage unit where most of his and his mom’s stuff are neatly piled up in, and although he initially thought that this would be easy, because ‘C’mon, it’s just a storage unit, it’s not Versailles in there’, turns out there are lots and lots of things to search through. He doesn’t regret bringing Eliott along, to be honest; it takes at least two to make their way around all the stuff, and at least Eliott can reach the upper shelves. At first they had started renting the unit to store his mom’s things away after the divorce, but when Lucas moved to Norway, he couldn’t afford to pay both the student lodging and rent at his old flatshare simultaneously, so he was forced to give up his spot over there and to store his things here in the meantime.

“Have you no heart?” Eliott gasps, and when Lucas turns back, he’s pouting as he gives the plushie a sad look. “We’re definitely watching Toy Story tonight.”

Lucas rolls his eyes fondly with a scoff, and eventually, after another moment of staring, Eliott agrees to put the lion back into whatever cardboard or plastic box he found it and to move the fuck on. In the meantime, Lucas moves over to another stash of smaller plastic boxes, still looking for the clothes he left behind before Oslo, but it’s not long before Eliott makes another sound, that has Lucas’ head whipping around.

“Hey, remember this game?” he asks, grinning as he waves a version of Risk. “God I miss that old peasant woman who told us off whenever we would be beating up people.”

“Dark Eliott was really a formative experience, but don’t ever end up on the wrong side of the tracks, thanks,” Lucas snickers in his corner, taking the lid off one of the boxes before he starts rummaging through its content. There’s a bit of everything in there, from old assignments to a snapback, pictures, a couple of textbooks, and as he keeps digging through it all, Eliott huffs something he doesn’t quite catch.

It’s during that overall quiet and regular afternoon that the list makes its comeback into Lucas’ life, after months of barely giving it a thought, and maybe at least a year of not adding another entry; it slips out from an old Annabac textbook when he picks it up from the box. The fold is a little wrong and the corner slightly crumpled, and for a second he contemplates just shoving it back at the bottom box, because he’s really not in the mood to entertain that kind of ridiculously hopeful thoughts for a better future or whatever, but in the end there’s a weird kind of curiosity that pushes him to open it.

Just a quick look, he thinks, discreetly peering above his shoulder to find Eliott busy in the opposite corner. The list has a total of 54 entries, ranking from thoughtful to shallow to frankly depressing at times. A wry smile shows up on his lips at entry #4: he gotta be tall because I’m not spending my life climbing ladders to change light bulbs. Or even better, the entry #9: someone who makes me laugh so hard I cry — it has something terribly soft to it, almost… pure.

The entry #29 is entirely Eliott’s fault, he knows it right off the bat: not too many tattoos thanks. It’s crossed, because shortly afterwards Eliott got his first tattoo for some obscure reason, and despite Lucas’ adamant protests, his best friend insisted that he accompanied him to the parlor for the big day — and then he got another tattoo, and another, and after some time Lucas was forced to realize that… okay maybe tattoos were okay.

The rest of the entries are sometimes awfully precise (#34 ‘light eyes????? Fuck yes?????’ and #41 ‘abs. abs. abs.’), or completely vague (#29 Fucking consistent). And then there’s entry #50. One of the last entries, that he probably wrote towards the end of high school or during his first year of uni, during a lonely evening at the flatshare — a very graphic description of what he’d want his imaginary boyfriend to do to him, which he had written after watching some porn locked up in his bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

Eliott’s voice sounds so close that Lucas startles guiltily, snapping the list down against his chest in the textbook definition of caught red-handed. Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up as they make eye-contact, and Lucas tries to ignore the way his cheeks heat up. “I- uh- nothing,” he croaks out. “Just going through old stuff.”

There’s a glint in Eliott’s eyes, like he knows, like he can read through his fucking mind — like he too just read that entry #50. Stop fucking spiraling, he doesn’t know shit, he admonishes himself. The only thing he knows is that Lucas is acting like a teenager caught looking at porn.

“What?”, he asks, trying to find back his composure.

Eliott shrugs, with that annoying little smirk on his ridiculously pretty face. “Nothing,” he says, voice drawling a little, but he’s motioning next to Lucas to busy himself with the upper shelves in Lucas’ direct vicinity, and he knows his best friend is being annoying on purpose.

Lucas squints at him from the corner of his eyes. Seemingly unbothered, Eliott stands onto his tiptoes, arms extended at their maximum capacity to reach for a big, dusty cardboard box almost touching the ceiling, and his tee-shirt is riding high and showing the smallest trace of his rib tattoo curling down his side, and that’s when it creeps onto Lucas, at the worst, most inopportune moment. His eyes travel back and forth between Eliott and the list a couple of times, and despite his best efforts to keep calm, Lucas’ stomach starts doing a weird somersault.

Oh no.

Here is the thing.

When he started making that list, he was never planning on his best friend checking pretty much all the boxes right off the bat. That couldn’t have been farther away from what he had in mind, he’s pretty fucking sure of it. And yet here he is. He’s slipped the list into the front pocket of his hoodie before they left the storage unit, and then he took it out to shove it in his laptop bag, where he’s pretty sure no one will find it. It’s not that he’s afraid Eliott would be weirded out about it, it’s just… It’s a lot. Because it’s one thing to be aware that your best friend is insanely attractive, and it’s another one to think that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t mind being the one he kisses, the one he pulls by the waist at night, and the one who makes him feel good in bed.

The irony of the calendar (and his life, really), makes it that the next few days are just a whirlwind of Eliott Eliott Eliott, and by the time Christmas rolls around, Lucas is ready to die. Not because he doesn’t want his best friend anywhere near, but because he would very, very much appreciate if his brain could just fucking stop bringing up that wishlist every fucking five minutes — every single time he so much as glances or thinks about Eliott. Which tends to be problematic when he’s literally living with him at the moment. All of a sudden it’s like he’s hyper-aware of all the times Eliott smiles at him, reaches out to ruffle his hair in the morning, or has a nice gesture of any kind. It’s like he feels somewhat guilty for every laughter they share, and when they go do some last-minute Christmas shopping, Lucas walks around on automatic pilot for the better part of the afternoon, after inadvertently catching sight of Eliott’s arm flung around his shoulders in a mirror.

The only upside of having a dysfunctional family is that for at least 24h it takes Lucas’ mind off Eliott and that weird-ass situation his fifteen-year-old self put him in the first place. He spends Christmas Eve with his father and his new wife in a restaurant, and if one can’t be caught dead trying anything to make his son feel at ease, the other is trying so fucking hard it makes Lucas wants to throw himself in the traffic on the way to pick up his mom at her subway stop. Because yes, his stepmother insisted that he brings his mother, and Lucas was chicken enough to accept, just so that he wouldn’t have to sit through the whole dinner with his father and his weirdly enthusiastic second wife.

The whole dinner is as awkward as it can possibly be, but then Lucas comes back to Eliott’s place, early enough that his best friend is still at his grandparents’, and he tries to make sense of the feeling of relief he feels when he drops himself on the couch, only to see Eliott’s sketchbook on the coffee table, and Eliott’s hoodie thrown carelessly on the armrest, and Eliott’s drawings pinned up on the walls, and the piano pushed in the corner. It used to be in Eliott’s bedroom back at his parents’, and they would mess around trying to get the Star Wars theme right with four hands on the keyboard.

None of these things feel new — but all the hyper-awareness is weird enough to make him want to scream and hits his head repeatedly with the flat of his hand. And the worst part is that it keeps going on like this. Spending Christmas day at the Demaurys’ shouldn’t feel so weird either, and yet. He’s always been Eliott’s platonic plus one at every single one of his family birthday dinner, so he knows everyone and everything about this family. He knows that one of Eliott’s uncles and his godfather will inevitably end up on different sides of an argument about politics, that Eliott’s dad will probably try to lighten the mood, that Eliott’s younger cousins will pout for a fair share of lunch or dinner except when they’ll venture on TikTok halfway through, that Eliott’s grandmother will make a passive-aggressive comment or two about the food that his mother will try to ignore, and at some point, as always, she’ll go to the kitchen, and make a weird face only for Lucas to see, and that he’ll have to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh — he knows all of that, because he’s been around for fifteen years.

But still it does feel weird. A little bit. And not just because he’s never spent a Christmas dinner with them. It feels weird, because it downs on him that Eliott is single, and that he’s single too, and that although Eliott’s mother welcomes him as soon as Eliott walks him and asks if they can add a plate, when they take off their coats, Lucas catches a silent conversation between her and her husband that results into Eliott’s dad shrugging. Did they ever think they were more than friends? Did they ever think Lucas was more than just the kid from across the street with a fucked-up family? Because he himself never did, but now it’s all he can think about. And if he had been a girl, or if Eliott had been a girl, if they had been in a boy/girl kind of friendship, he knows that at some point the Demaurys would have asked for ground rules, no matter how ridiculous it would have felt for them. No closed doors in the afternoon, no sleepovers in the same room, and with every birthday dinner or birthday lunch, people would have just assumed they were a particularly chill couple who refrained on PDA.

So that’s how he spends his Christmas lunch, alongside the Demaury family. He laughs at the jokes thrown around, at the same family memories he’s heard a bunch of times already, rolls his eyes at the political arguments on the other end of the table, and spends entirely too much time pondering the ins and outs of heteronormativity and the way it may or may not have shaped his relationship to his best friend.

“You okay?”, Eliott asks at some point on his way back from the kitchen, squeezing his shoulders lightly, and Lucas has to crane his neck all the way up to make eye-contact because his best friend is standing behind him.

“Yeah, I’m all good,” he says with a smile, and when Eliott goes to sit back at the table, Lucas tries his best to ignore another look he catches between Eliott’s parents.

“Can I ask you something?” Eliott asks from his spot against the stove, hands tightly wrapped around his mug while Lucas pours himself his second coffee of the day.

It’s officially the last week of the year, and to Lucas’ great dismay, he’s not particularly sure that any of his internal questioning sessions will die at midnight on New Year Eve. To make matters even worse, he doesn’t feel like he’s slept one bit, and although he initially tried to conceal it at best as he could, he guesses he’s making a poor job considering Eliott joined him for breakfast roughly three minutes ago and is already picking up on the signs.

“Yeah, sure,” Lucas says, trying to sound relaxed, nose in his mug to avoid looking Eliott in the eyes.

“You would tell me if you didn’t want us to move in together, right?” Eliott enquires after a moment. “I mean, it’s not the first time I get an idea and I run away with it and you’re…”

“No, no, I still want to,” Lucas interrupts, and he hopes his voice doesn’t sound as weird and scratchy as it feels in his throat. Because he does. He genuinely still does want to go through with it, because no matter how fucked up his brain is making things for him lately, Eliott is still the closest from home he’s ever felt.

Eliott hums. “Oh, okay,” his voice trails off, sounding hesitant, “I mean I was afraid you might have changed your mind and didn’t know how to tell me.”

Lucas laughs, but deep down he wants to slap himself because it sounds like chalk screeching on a blackboard in the silent kitchen corner. God you’re so fake. “I don’t know where you got this idea, I’m still 1000% in.”

Eliott looks sheepish, chewing onto his bottom lip uncomfortably. “Look, I know… I mean you’ve been kind of quiet lately, and I know sometimes you get lost in your head a bit. I don’t want you to think you can’t, like, talk to me or anything.”

Lucas’ grip tightens around his mug. He doesn’t deserve Eliott. No one does, but especially not him. “I’m fine it’s just… You know, Christmas mood isn’t my strong suit,” he mumbles, eyes falling. “Plus, going through all that stuff the other day… It brings up some memories.”

After all, it’s not a lie. It did bring up a lot of feelings and thoughts, and although they aren’t all that unpleasant, it’s surprisingly difficult to maintain eye-contact with your best friend when you spent most of the past few days trying not to picture his mouth on you.

“I’m sorry,” Eliott says, sounding so absolutely genuine that Lucas wants to smash something — preferably his head against the kitchen sink. “Of course I don’t know how you feel but, you’re not going through it alone, right? I’m here for you. Always have and always will.”

Lucas swears he could cry. He can’t possibly keep it to himself. Not when Eliott is his best friend, not when they’re just about to start looking for a place to live together, not when the longest Lucas has tried to hide a secret from him was exactly ten hours. “You’re checking a bunch of boxes,” Lucas confesses with a long sigh, eyes falling shut for a second.

A weird kind of silence settles in the kitchen, tension lodging between Lucas’ shoulders.

“What are you talking about?”, Eliott asks after a moment.

“The boyfriend list,” Lucas mumbles, shaking his head to himself. “Or wishlist or whatever. It’s fucking dumb, I know, and I never realized that before, but the other day I found that stupid list again in my stuff at the storage unit, and now I don’t know what to do with it, or what to think.”

If anyone needs a guide on how to ruin a lifelong friendship, Lucas Lallemant is your reference, he thinks humorlessly. But it’s Eliott. So maybe it’s not that bad, right? It doesn’t have to be a big deal. And okay, maybe he is making a big deal out of it, maybe he wouldn’t have to be afraid about Eliott’s reaction if he wasn’t the one making it sound like-

“And you feel like… it’s a problem?” Eliott asks carefully, as if he had followed his train of thoughts.

Lucas sneers, finally turning around to meet Eliott’s eyes. “Well, you tell me. I’m shaping my imaginary boyfriend after my childhood best friend, what does it say about me?” He’s pretty positive it’s not the sign of someone with a perfectly balanced life.

“That you have great taste,” Eliott grins, but it kind of turns into a wince when Lucas lets out a groan. “Hey, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want to, alright? I’m nothing extraordinary, I’m sure plenty of guys check those boxes.”

“But…?”, Lucas prompts, because it feels a lot like Eliott isn’t done but he’s really close to tell him that pausing for dramatic effect right now is definitely not the nice thing to do.

Eliott’s hands are still gripping tight his coffee mug. “But nothing. Like I said,” Eliott adds, clearing his throat a little, “it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

Suddenly it hits Lucas that he sounds fucking nervous, like, actually nervous. Why is he nervous? Oh right. He just made things weird. “Why? Do you want it to mean something?”, he asks, hoping to go for a casual laugh, but it comes out wrong, off-key.

“Well… I started making a list too, a couple of years ago,” Eliott says, before pausing. His mouth twists a little. “And it’s… uh, it’s possible you’re checking a bunch of boxes as well.”

Well that’s just getting better and better, Lucas almost says. It’s Eliott’s turn to avoid his eyes and Lucas isn’t sure what’s going on but he’s pretty positive he doesn’t like it, because now things aren’t just weird on his part anymore, and he has no idea what to do with that piece of information.

Eventually, because he’s like that, Lucas snorts — it’s just too much. “Look, I appreciate it if you’re trying to make me feel better but-”

Eliott looks offended. “I’m not,” he says, sounding earnest, and Lucas’ words die in his throat. “Okay, you know what? Come with me.” He puts his mug down onto the kitchen elements, and Lucas doesn’t even have the time to say anything before Eliott motions to leave the kitchen, dragging him along in his wake. His own coffee mug still in his hands, he stares in confusion as they walk into the living room, his best friend going to retrieve one of his sketchbooks from the tiny coffee table.

The next few seconds are particularly silent as Eliott flicks through the pages, but he eventually exhumes a loose leaf from the depths of the sketchbook. What strikes Lucas first is that there’s a lot of black ink on it. Lines, sometimes full-on paragraphs have been crossed with a thick black marker, which offers a stark contrast with Eliott’s rather small but clean handwriting.

“See? I’m not lying,” he says, and he seems to hesitate for a split second, before he hands it to Lucas. “You can read it, if you want.”

No that’s personal, is the first thing that comes to his mind. It’s the right thing to do. It’s the kind of thing he would want people to think about his very own stuff — that it’s off-limit, that peeking is rude, that it’s intrusive. He knows he’s an adult, he knows that, and Eliott is an adult too, and even more so they literally grew up together, they figured shit out together, so it’s not like Eliott would bat an eye if he ever read anything about Lucas’ slightly graphic descriptions, no.

But would he die on the spot from the sheer embarrassment? Probably.

And yet — when Eliott holds his list, he picks it up. He’s a hypocrite like that.

“Boy there's a lot of marker,” he says dumbly, cocking an eyebrow, but deep down all he can think about is that he’s holding that stupid list Eliott wrote, about the things he wants in a partner, and he hates, he hates that there’s some kind of weird hope fluttering deep inside him.

His eyes skim over the entries, more avidly than he’d like to admit. Naturally, Eliott my-head-in-the-cloud Demaury cannot go straight to the point, so it’s not surprising that each entry turns out to be at least a full sentence long.

3- They don’t mind a good challenge and won’t pass on an occasion to try out new things even if that means stepping out of their comfort zone.

8- They understand that mental health isn’t smiling all the time.

14- They’re straight-forward enough to say when things aren’t fine and don’t dismiss it with a shrug.

“Okay but that could be anyone, Eliott,” Lucas says flatly, turning the page over, and he tries his best not to feel disappointed because it’s not like he has the right to be. “And I’m sorry but I think the last time someone called me ‘optimistic’ was, like, in kindergarten, and it was about another Lucas.”

“Well that’s the thing,” Eliott argues with a small shrug, and he buries his hands in his pockets. “To me it’s kind of… you. And I know it’s confusing because well, I was there too, but I feel like… I don’t know, the point of making a list like that in the first place is to figure out what matters and what we want, no?”

Lucas’ hand tightens around his mug. “I mean, yes,” he admits, voice dragging slowly on the last word. But does that mean you want me? He can’t get the words out, it’s like his mouth is full of gravel. Another reason why Eliott’s list can’t possibly be about him, he’s far, very, very far from being brave. Or even ‘quick-witted’ for that matter — he only has biting come-backs that would also get him beaten up in middle school. “But between knowing what makes you comfortable and knowing that you want to know your best friend in the biblical sense, there’s an ocean,” Lucas points out, a bit more dryly than intended.

Eliott’s cocks an eyebrow. “In the biblical sense,” he repeats, laughter not far behind as he perches himself onto the armrest of the couch, and just because of that, because of the subtle way Eliott’s voice changes, because Lucas knows he’s biting back a laugh — it’s because of these small things that the tension lifts a little, and that the atmosphere shifts to something more bearable.

“You know what I mean,” Lucas huffs.

Eliott grins, that kind of annoying grin that made Lucas smack his face with textbooks back in the days. “Oh, yeah, I do, don’t worry about that.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, eventually glancing back to Eliott’s list — but it’s like the words don’t print themselves in his brain, like he can’t comprehend those simple sentences written in Eliott’s oh-so-clean handwriting. “You haven’t told me what all that marker was about,” he croaks out after a moment of silence.

“And how about you tell me how you actually feel about this?”, Eliott asks gently. He rises up from the couch, stepping closer, and Lucas finally finds the courage to look up long enough to hand him back his list.

“I think that you deserve to find someone more than anyone else in the world,” Lucas says, voice getting a bit quiet as he grabs tightly his cold coffee mug with both hands. “But I don’t know if that someone could be me. I never thought… I mean it’s only been a couple of days, before that I never thought of us like that.”

“But you did in the end,” Eliott points out.

It gets Lucas’ brain to work, the wheels turning even faster — because Eliott’s right. He didn’t come to think of being romantically involved with Eliott because Eliott showed him his list, he got there all by himself. And the problem isn’t that Eliott is repulsing, it’s not that the thought of kissing him and going on dates with him is weird, it’s not that falling asleep next to Eliott is grossing him out. The problem is-

“I think I just don’t want to risk losing you,” Lucas admits in a whisper, eyes falling. He’s never been in an actual relationship. His list of exes should be requalified as, at best, weeks-long flings, and he does not particularly think he’ll be a natural at this, courtesy to his parents displaying the opposite of a healthy relationship for most of his life — the last thing he wants is to hurt Eliott in the process of trying and failing.

He only looks up when Eliott’s hands cover his own around the coffee mug. “I know. And I know no amount of promises on my part will make it better, but if you need me to I’ll repeat it every single day.” His thumb gently caresses the back of Lucas’ hand. “I’ll be there as long as you want me to. And if you don’t want me like that, then it’s fine too. I’ll still be there no matter what.”

Lucas takes a deeper inhale. “Why are you so calm about all of this? How long have you been sitting on that shit to be so chill now?”

Eliott looks sheepish. “Two, three years maybe.” Lucas’ mouth falls open, but Eliott quickly adds: “I mean, it’s not that I was like, just fantasizing about you for like three years straight, it’s just that, like, I always thought you were always the one that…” His voice trails off and he huffs a laugh. “See why I didn’t say anything before? It’s just… it’s so hard to explain.”

“Yeah,” Lucas snorts, chewing onto his bottom lip. “Tell me about it.”

But deep down he’s starting to understand what Eliott means. It’s hard to put into words every little thing that makes Eliott the person he needs most. Something not even a list of a thousand entries can do. And maybe that’s why it feels so alien that, to Eliott, he’s the perfect match to his wishlist. To me it is you, Eliott had said before, and now he gets it. He gets it because Eliott’s hands are around his own, he gets it because Eliott would probably be willing to tattoo ‘I will not leave you alone’ somewhere on his arm if Lucas asked. He gets it because Eliott has been sitting on his own feelings for three years, and still he helped him out pick up guys, sort out his life, encouraged him to leave for a whole different country, and he was only brave enough to go through any of it because Eliott made him feel like he was capable of doing so.

“My list is a mess,” Lucas confesses. “And I should probably cover a thing or two before you see it because that’s, like, not appropriate for a first table read. But if you want to read it… Then you can read it. And then you can decide if you think you can put up with me more than you already do.”

Eliott’s smile is soft and blinding at the same time. He takes one of his hands off Lucas’, and when he pulls him closer by the neck, Lucas still feels weird about it, but not in a bad way; there’s just something churning in his stomach that wasn’t there not so long ago. He just leans into the touch as Eliott’s lips press onto his cheek, because Eliott smells good, and it makes him feel warm and protected in a way no one else ever made him feel.

“I’ll be honest,” Eliott says quietly, not pulling much away, “that’s why there’s so much marker on mine.”

This time Lucas feels warm for a whole different reason. He feels the tip of his ears heating up a little bit, and he’s positive it doesn’t have to do with Eliott’s immediate vicinity. “Well,” he says, clearing his throat a little bit, “that’s… something to think about.”

“One step at a time though.”

Lucas finds himself smiling, mirroring Eliott’s expression, his eyes trailing a second too long on Eliott’s lips. “Yeah. One step at a time.”

#skam france #elu fic #eluficrec #mine #*#it's been so long i feel like i don't know how to write anymore <333 #*my fics

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kissjane · 4 years ago

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For fan Friday, maybe... lost pet that turns into cupid... 🙃 Or new cute neighbor with arachnophobia who gets stuck outside his apartment until the other handsome neighbor shows up and saves the day 🙃... Idk, these are a little random, but you can do ✨magic✨ with words, so...

Lots of love to you, dear Jane. I hope you get better soon 🖤

Miss Stela. At first I thought that you meant like the *actual Cupid* disguised or magicked into a pet, and now I kinda want to write that, ngl.

But instead I combined two prompts into one, and wrote this little thing.

Also, my google history is now ruined for ever, and I better not get random pop-ups based on what I looked at today.

Okay, so maybe Eliott liked to take Charlotte out of her terrarium and let her walk over his arms occasionally – because, really, why would you even have a pet if you couldn’t pet it, right? And, okay, so maybe, he might not always close the plexiglass lid all the way when he put her back at night. And, yes, he had woken up once or twice to find her little tank empty, and had to search all over the room for her before breakfast.

But still he didn’t expect her to get out of his flat one sunny afternoon while he was out getting groceries, or he would have been more careful with the closure, obviously.

The thing was, he hadn’t been careful with it, and Charlotte had somehow gotten out, and she was currently sitting proudly in the middle of the front door of his neighbour across the hall.

The other thing was, his neighbour didn’t seem to appreciate this, like, at all – if the fact that he was glued flatly against Eliott’s own door breathing very shallowly was any indication.

“Oh, thank god,” the guy mumbled when Eliott showed up. “I can’t get into my flat because of that – that – monster on the door.”

And, well. Charlotte was many things – pretty, smart, fluffy, to name just a few – but she was definitely not a monster.

“Don’t listen to him, baby,” he cooed at her, while he softly cradled her in his hands. “You’re not a monster, you are beautiful and cute and I love you.”

The guy shrieked, and he went very pale. He had big blue eyes, Eliott couldn’t help but notice. He jumped out of the way when Eliott took a step closer.

“Keep that away from me! Kill it!”

“Kill Charlotte? Are you crazy?”

“Charlotte?” the guy gasped, while moving with his back against the wall, eyeing Eliott’s hand suspiciously. “Is that – is that thing yours?”

“Of course,” Eliott replied, proudly. “You’re my cute little Charlotte, aren’t you?”

“Little? There’s nothing little about it! Let alone cute! It almost gave me a heart attack!”

Eliott shook his head, sadly.

“She has feelings, you know. She wouldn’t hurt a fly! Or, okay, well, yeah, she would hurt a fly. But she wouldn’t hurt you. Look how pretty she is, with those green-blue legs and that cute little red flag.”

The guy watched him, unimpressed. It was too bad he was so cruel against Charlotte, Eliott thought, because now that he didn’t look so horribly frightened and pale anymore, he actually looked quite handsome.

“It’s not the colour of its legs that’s the problem,” the guy mumbled, “it’s more that there are so many of them.”

Eliott chuckled. It seemed his neighbour did have a sense of humour, even though he clearly had no taste in animals.

“I’m sorry she got out,” he said therefore. “I’ll make sure the lid is closed properly from now on. Oh, and I’m Eliott, by the way. And this lady is Charlotte.”

He stretched out his hand, ready to make Cute Neighbour’s acquaintance, but the guy recoiled.

“Uhm, yeah, I’m Lucas, and I’m not really in the mood to shake your hand, knowing what you just touched.”

Eliott laughed out loud at that.

“Oh, come on!” He cupped Charlotte again, and moved his hands closer towards Lucas, who jumped back until he was flat against his own door now. “She likes you.”

“Just – just keep her away, okay?” Lucas grumbled. “I don’t like the way she’s looking at me with all those eyes. She is plotting how to best kill me, I bet.”

“She’s not even poisonous, Lucas! I swear you’re safe. Oh, and I’m sure Wolfgang and Shelob are both still in the tank, and nowhere near your flat.”

“What?”

The jump Lucas made would have set some record on an athletics meeting, Eliott was sure of it.

“There’s more of them? Where the fuck? They are not – they are not on me, are they? Eliott! Seriously, get them off me, or I –”

He stopped his frenetic movements and narrowed his eyes when Eliott couldn’t hold his straight face and started giggling uncontrollably.

“Not. Funny.”

Eliott disagreed, but he had to admit it was a bit rude of him to torture the cutest guy he’d met in ages like this. Might not raise his chances of getting Lucas’ number, although, he knew where the guy lived, he might not need it.

“I’m sorry. Hey, let me make it up to you. I’ll put Charlotte in her terrarium, with the lid closed safely this time, and I’ll buy you a coffee to forget all about her. Sounds good?”

“Not very likely,” Lucas muttered, eyeing Charlotte warily. “Will probably have nightmares about her for weeks.”

Ah. Well, Eliott knew an opening when he saw one, and he believed in striking the iron while it was hot.

“I could hold you in your sleep, so you wouldn’t have to worry about any spiders coming to get you, if that would help.”

“Hmmm.”

Lucas stared at him thoughtfully, and Eliott wondered if he had pushed too hard, too soon. He didn’t even know if Lucas was into guys.

“Best take my bed, then. As far away from Charlotte as possible.”

Eliott grinned. He noticed Lucas had gone from monster to Charlotte in five minutes. He’d be ready to hold her in no time. And in the meantime –

“Deal,” he said, and then added, lowly so Lucas wouldn’t hear, “Well done, baby. You ensnared the prettiest man ever, and all that without even having to make a web!”

#asked!#i write things #Elu #my angel of light #😇#Fan Choice Friday

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itsjamethyst · 4 years ago

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Thank you to the lovely @pennygalleon for the tag.

Rules: Tag nine people you want to know better

Three Ships:

1. Drarry. I came back to Drarry after a somewhat long Harry Potter hiatus. Coming back to Drarry has reignited my love for the HP world, and throughout all of my ship/fandom obsessions I always said that I'd write fanfiction for them, but I never did. My very first Drarry fanfiction is still a wip, but I find it so crazy that after all these years I'm back to where I started. I could write a whole long post detailing all the reasons why I love Drarry, but I wouldn't want you to sit through all that, so all I'll say is that I love how emotionally complicated they can be in fanfiction. I love character studies, and I love going in depth into a character's mind, motives, and emotions. No matter the pov or subject matter, Drarry have so much rich history and characterisation that reading about them finally understanding each other, and finding love through all the hate is so interesting to me. There's no other ship quite like Drarry.

2. Elu (SKAM France).

I have no proper words to express how much I adore season three of SKAM France. I know some people don't enjoy the dramatised, highly produced filmography of the France adaption, but it is so, so up my alley. There are so many gorgeous scenes in this show that has made me laugh, smile, and cry at the same time. The chemistry, the acting, the authenticity, how they dealt with mental health issues. Lucas and Eliott are so raw and flawed characters and that's what I love most about them. To me, Lucas and Eliott are like poetry. Gorgeously written, emotive, impactful, and one of those things that I'll never truly forget in a really long time.

3. Nygmobblepot (Gotham)

My third favourite ship changes a lot depending on what new thing I've fallen victim to, but for the past year and a half it's been Ed Nygma and Oswald Cobblepot. I mean, they bring a whole new meaning to strangers-to-friends-to-(unrequited lovers)-to-enemies-to-(backstabbing friends)-to-(remorseful)-enemies-to-lovers.

Well, try and put that as a tag on ao3.

Nygmobblepot are a rollercoaster, but I love them dearly. Their characters are so interesting and nuanced, and ship aside, whenever their characters are on screen (together or otherwise) are some of my favourite scenes from the show. (Except for the Lee/Nygma story line, I'm sorry but that is not welcome in my household. I loved Lee and Gordon together, and Ed *deserves to be with Oswald* so that ship train wrecked two good ships). Anyway, Martin is their adopted son--that's all I'm saying. Watch Gotham, thank you and goodnight.

Let's quick fire answer these next questions--go go go.

Last Song: You and I -- Ben Platt. His voice is phenomenal, he's such an inspiration to me. I'll be happy with 5% of his talent please, where can I buy his vocal run abilities?

Last Movie: Tangled. No surprise there. What can I say, I'm a woman of predictability.

Currently Reading: The last book I (didn't) finish reading was Nine Perfect Strangers. Drarry fanfic has taken over my life.

Currently Watching: Gotham. Shameless. Outer Banks. (Cobra Kai when it finally comes out!)

Currently Consuming: Coffee. It's either coffee, hot chocolate, or water.

Currently Craving: Music. I'm in the mood to sing songs at the top of my lungs. Volume max, my favourite playlist blasting on my speakers. That's what I'm craving to do right now.

Tagging: Only if you'd like to!

@nyleskies @opaleopioid @tontonguetonks @this-searing-light-the-sun @anaxandria-writes @bubble-gumhead

And anybody else. 💜

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sandalwoodhusbands · 4 years ago

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we are citizens of halloween town || 6k

There’s a pile of books glaring at him from the coffee table. Three books, all neatly set one on top of the other, notes in black ink surrounding them. Lucas reaches for the thickest one.

It’s ugly. Brown and worn around the edges, kinda smelly like any book from the library this old would be. The bane of his existence, really, hate at first sight, some would say.

He glares back, nose scrunched up, before-

Well. He lays on it, okay?

He takes the fucking book, curls his arms on top of it and rests his head on the crook of his elbow. So what. It’s not like anyone’s going to judge him for it.

His boyfriend is drawing with crayons in the seat opposite of him. Give him a fucking break.

Fucking October.

He’s not someone particularly mindful of the seasons of the year (he’s not his ridiculous nerd of a boyfriend), would even say he enjoys autumn. But there’s something about October – the change in the weather, suddenly you blink and it’s night and you have five assignments due that you swear weren’t there before.

There’s no break from summer going into another school year. There’s sun in the afternoons, all warm, but not scorching hot, and whispering in your ear to come out and play, enjoy it before it’s gone. But you’re stuck inside, staring out the window trying to finish your fucking bio essay.

And then it’s night, and it should be chilly, because it’s autumn, but somehow it isn’t and either you have your boyfriend wrapped around you, or a blanket, but you can’t have both. But you kinda want both. So you settle for your boyfriend on top of you, and try to shield the uncovered parts of your body from the cold as much as you can.

It’s always fucking October.

So he’s tired, napping on a suspiciously smelly book because he’s earned this, alright? Just a little break.

“You good there, baby?” asks Eliott, because he’s a fucking angel.

“Hmm.” He says, words slurred against the table. “Just chilling.”

Eliott laughs lightly at that, and Lucas smiles into his forearm. The laughter warms his skin up, like a breath of summer wind, all the way from his belly and down to the tip of his toes, right where they wiggle against the fuzzy carpet through the hole in his sock.

He’s so ridiculously enamored.

Eliott hums from the other side of the table, catching Lucas’ calf with his feet and trapping it between his legs. “You do look very cozy right now.”

Lucas tilts his head up slightly, flashing Eliott a tired grin. “Shh.” He tuts. “I’m sleeping.”

Eliott laughs again, this time louder.

“Oh, alright. My bad” he says, but his legs keep playing tug with Lucas’ under the table. “Baby needs his rest.”

Lucas bites his lip to keep the laugher in his throat, as to not give himself away – although Eliott already knows. He always does, when it comes to Lucas.

It’s then that a little voice decides to make itself known.

“Eli!” the voice chastises quietly. Lucas hears a light thud, and then a shushed voice that says “use your inside voice, Lulu’s sleeping!”

Through closed eyes, Lucas can picture the little boy at the other end of the table. Shaggy brown hair, messy and way too long at the front, because he refuses to get a haircut. He can imagine the boy tugging at Eliott’s shirt, or maybe smacking his small palm flat against Eliott’s arm, big green eyes that match the color of his dino pajamas staring up at his big brother.

A silent snort, and then a gasp. Lucas buries his smile on his forearm.

“So you’re saying I have to be real quiet, so we don’t wake up Lulu?”

“Yes!”

“Okay.” Eliott agrees, and there’s enough mischief in his voice that it makes Lucas open his eyes. He barely has time to raise his head up to see the way his boyfriend picks his brother up by the waist, fingers diving to his sides.

Loud giggles erupt across the room, happy and carefree, and Lucas can only watch fondly as the little boy squirms in Eliott’s hold, eyes bright with laughter and cheeks dusted with pink.

“But Jules!” Eliott says between shrieks of laughter. His eyes shine when he looks down at his brother. Lucas falls just a little bit more in love. “You have to be quiet too!”

Eventually, the laughter dies down, leaving the living room in a state of comfortable quietness. Jules pouts up at Eliott “You cheated.” He complains, petulantly. In a way only a kid could.

Eliott chuckles airily, pushing strands of curly hair off Jules’ eyes with an amused shake of his head. His eyes find Lucas’ over Jules’ head, happy and clear. Lucas smiles at him, and Eliott grins back.

Jules’ cheek is smushed in the crook of his brother’s neck. He’s quiet for some time, eyes droopy as Eliott resumes back to his sketchbook. Both he and Lucas follow the line of Eliott’s hand in wonder.

“Ma said to ask if you’ll take me trick or treat this year.” He speaks softly. There’s every ounce of innocence in his tone when he asks. “Please?”

The question makes Eliott freeze. He immediately turns to look at Lucas, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and Lucas knows what he’s thinking. Emma’s party.

Emma’s party, the one they had planned weeks ahead. Because when you’re in uni and every one of your friends have chosen a different degree it’s harder to match plans. Because they probably won’t see everyone until Christmas break again.

Jules follows Eliott’s line of vision, startling when he finds Lucas most definitely not asleep. He smiles at first, all big and sweet, like every time he sees Lucas, before his face sets in a look of determination. Jumping off his brother’s hold, he circles the glass table until his knees bump with Lucas’ shins.

He holds his arms up wordlessly, and Lucas picks him up on autopilot.

Bony knees dig into his stomach, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t care, doesn’t care when Jules spreads his small hands across Lucas’ cheeks and looks at him with big, glassy eyes, asking “uncle Lulu, will you pretty please take me trick or treat this year?”

How could he say no? Not to this boy cradled in his arms, the sweetest kid he’s ever met. A little Eliott, so small when he first met him that he fit in the crook of Eliott’s elbow. He was just four months old then.

Four years later and many, many babysitting sessions later – because date night is a very serious thing within the Demaury’s. Every Demaury. Except maybe baby Jules, for now – he’s never loved a kid as much as he loves him. He never thought his heart was capable of holding so much love inside, for Eliott, for this family.

For he considers himself part of it, and he thinks (knows) it’s mutual.

So it’s no surprise. Not to him, or to Eliott, maybe even to Jules, when he answers “of course we will.” And then, because Jules is grinning, and Eliott is too, and he’s got his family in his arms and his world staring at him, he boops Jules’ nose. Because he’s so fucking happy this is his life. “Anything for baby Jules.”

Jules scrunches up his nose, eyes going crossed, before lying his head on Lucas’ chest. Eliott is already waiting for him to look back, sketchbook forgotten in the corner.

There’s a light in his eyes that Lucas is all too familiar with. He gets it himself every time he sees Jules riding in Eliott’s back, or sleeping against his shoulder on long car trips.

Do you think about the future?

I do.

And, in that future…?

It’s never finished, the question.

And in that future, am I in it? Do you see us in your future? Do you see me? Do we make it? Do I?

It’s never said, but they both know it, because one hour later, or two, or one breath away, when they find themselves holed up in their room, their duvet up to their shoulders and Eliott tracing lines across Lucas’ bare stomach, there’ll be a stupid tv show playing on the laptop, and they’ll look at each other in the dark with a smile.

I think you’d be a good dad.

Yeah. You would, too.

And that’s the end of the conversation, every time, because one second later Lucas would have his mouth over Eliott’s, a hand to his neck, and all thoughts would fly out the window at the finger trailing down his back softly.

“I want cookies for dinner.” Jules says tiredly against Lucas’ shoulders. His eyelashes flutter when he speaks, hand closed in a tight grip on Lucas’ sweatshirt.

He hears Eliott’s quiet groan. “God fucking damn it.”

They have cookies for dinner.

***

Eliott has been going on about the differences between spandex and latex for the last 20 minutes.

There’s only so many times you can hear the words “lycra suit” being thrown in a conversation before you get the need to push your boyfriend up against the wall and kiss him senseless to shut him up.

He just wants to take a nice shower. Make out a little, then eat dinner in bed. Eliott’s already rid of his shirt, so he stands in the middle of the room with a bare chest and black track pants hanging low on his hips.

He’s very appreciative of his boyfriend’s beauty, even when said boyfriend is running his ear off.

He’s sitting on the desktop table, back turned to the window. He’d been revising some notes when Eliott had barged into the room like a hurricane. He hadn’t questioned Lucas’ choice of study location (it’s not the first time. He doesn’t have a problem with chairs. It’s not a gay thing, Basile. The table is just comfier- shut up), just had shoved his phone in Lucas’ face, rambling about delivery dates and costume prices.

Lucas had blinked, very much confused, but had wasted no time in trapping Eliott’s waist between his legs. Eliott had just given him a happy look and continued talking.

Now he sits here. His legs are still wrapped around Eliott’s hips, arms circling his middle, and he’s long given up on keeping his back straight, or understanding what’s going on, so he pillows his head on Eliott’s stomach. With every word that Eliott says, the vibrations travel down to his ear.

“This is nice.” Lucas murmurs against Eliott’s stomach, when Eliott finally goes on a rant break. He rubs his cheek on the warm skin, smiling a little. His boyfriend smells nice, like their body soap and a hint of cranberry juice that he’d spilled on his pants during lunch.

Eliott looks down from his phone. He drops a kiss to Lucas’ hair, tightening his grip on his shoulders with his free arm. “You’re nice.”

“You’re nicer.”

“And you’re lucky you’re cute, because I know you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said for the past twenty minutes.”

Lucas snickers to himself, snuggling closer to Eliott when he feels fingers drawing shapes at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah, but what did you expect when my shirtless boyfriend is right here?” He says, and kisses softly between Eliott’s pecs to seal his words. “C’mon.”

Eliott tuts. “I know what you’re doing, Lallemant.”

Lucas turns his head up to grin at Eliott, fitting his hands on the small of Eliott’s back. He presses one kiss to his stomach. Two, three, tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips in the last one.

“What am I doing?”

Eliott exhales.

“You’re trying to distract me with sex.”

“Yeah.” Lucas breathes. No use in denying the obvious. He looks at Eliott through his eyelashes, slowly leaning in to leave another kiss to the expanse of his chest, teeth grazing the skin teasingly. “Is it working?”

Eliott shudders, and one blink later Lucas has a face full of Eliott’s hand.

He gives Lucas a disapproving look, spread palm covering his mouth. Whatever made him think that would help his case, he doesn’t know. Still, Lucas gives in this once, only because he looks very cute under their bedroom light right now.

He makes a muffled sigh against Eliott’s hand, rolling his eyes jokingly as Eliott retracts his hand back. Eliott squints at him. Lucas squints back, neither of them moving.

At the end it’s Lucas who breaks. He sighs again, looking up at Eliott and curling his arms around his neck. “Okay. What is it?”

Eliott laughs loudly, a sound that makes their bodies shake and Lucas’ face break into a smile even if he’s not sure what they’re laughing at.

“You really have no shame, do you?” Eliott laughs again, and he goes to slide his hands under Lucas’ ass to lift him up.

Lucas secures his grip on Eliott’s waist and neck as his body leaves the desktop table, flashing him a shit-eating grin. “You already know I wasn’t listening. No surprise.”

“Yeah, but don’t say it to my face.”

He presses teeny, tiny kisses to Eliott’s cheek as an apology. “Sorry, baby. I promise I’ll listen this time.”

“You fucking better.” Eliott threatens. He walks them around the apartment like the boy wrapped around his body fucking weights nothing. It’s a really fucking cute habit – albeit a bit weird at the beginning, when Eliott would just pick him up out of the blue at the most random times.

It helps me think, shush, Eliott had said the time Lucas had asked him about it. And that’d been it.

He’s his boyfriend’s personal light bulb, he supposes.

“I was talking to my mom this afternoon, and I think Jules is going through a Spiderman phase.”

Lucas smiles internally at the image of little Jules tricking his parents into buying anything Spiderman related he sees at the store.

He can imagine how the conversation went down. A blankie? He needs it, because it’s cold. And a toothbrush, because it doesn’t matter if he has one already! Two toothbrushes means more teeth-brushing time, and that’s good. That t-shirt, please mama, and maybe the pajamas too? The mask?

Wait a fucking minute.

“Oh hell no-“

“He’d lose his mind if we got him a Spiderman suit. Can you imagine? And to make it even better! Wouldn’t it be fucking cute if we matched? Like mini and maxi Demaury? So I’d get one too, and then-“

“I am not wearing Spandex.”

Eliott shushes him, sitting them on the edge of the bed. “And then I had a brilliant idea.” Lucas doubts that. He’s already dreading the next words that will come out of Eliott’s mouth. “Deadpool! Me as Spiderman, you as Deadpool, the fucking hottest couple of all Paris.”

Ah, there it is. He can’t even pretend like he didn’t see that one coming.

He drops his head to Eliott’s shoulder, an amused little huff falling from his lips. He knew he had lost the battle the very second Eliott entered the room.

“You in?” Eliott asks, bumping their heads together softly.

He’s one beat away from saying ‘of fucking course I’ll be you your better superhero half, you fucking beautiful dork’ when a weird thought flashes across his mind.

“Wait, what? Since when do Deadpool and Spiderman go together?”

Eliott pulls him back by his shoulders, frowning. “Are you serious?” His mouth gapes at Lucas’ blank stare. “My God, Mika really taught you nothing.” He murmurs.

“What? Eliott, I’ve seen all the movies. I can assure you I’ve never seen Deadpool and Spiderman in a scene together.”

“Well yeah, I mean the comics?” Eliott asks, like it’s obvious, and for one second he looks confused. Then realization dawns on him. “Lucas Lallemant, you haven’t read the comics?” The disbelief in his voice makes Lucas’ cheeks turn pink, his silence being enough answer. Eliott squeaks in outrage. “And you call yourself a fan?”

“I just never found the time, okay.” Lucas defends himself, pulling on Eliott’s hair weakly.

“I have so much to show you. So. Many. Gay. Superheroes, Lucas.”

The glee in Eliott’s voice turns Lucas’ smile into mush. “You’re ridiculous.” He says, but doesn’t mean it.

Eliott kisses him then, as if he can see through Lucas’ words. He kisses him soundly, hands cupping Lucas’ face and lips moving against Lucas’ at a slow pace. Lucas kisses back, digs his knees into the mattress to push himself against Eliott, smiling when he feels Eliott’s smile on his lips.

“But,” he says between kisses, panting. Eliott whines, like it’s a personal offense that Lucas stopped kissing him “isn’t Deadpool like, pan?”

Eliott gives him a dirty look that screams you did not just stop kissing me for this.

He kisses the side of Eliott’s mouth to make up for it.

“Yeah, so?”

“So, why aren’t you Deadpool and I’m Spiderman?”

Eliott takes Lucas’ face in his hands, bringing their faces impossibly closer together. From that distance their noses rub together with every breath, heavy and shallow. “Because you, baby,” Eliott whispers, thumb moving to press down on Lucas’ bottom lip wetly to prove a point “are my little merc with a fucking mouth.”

Lucas smirks proudly, parting his lips. “And a mouth I have.”

Eliott pulls him into another kiss. It’s a little rougher around the edges, but they’re both smiling into it. Eliott’s tongue slides between his parted lips, and Lucas catches it with his teeth. He pushes at Eliott’s shoulders until they’re both lying on the bed, chest to chest and Lucas’ knees on either side of Eliott’s waist.

Eliott has his hands spread across the curve of Lucas’ ass, and Lucas has been going at his neck for a while when Eliott starts shaking his head. He pulls back to look at Eliott, confused.

“I just can’t believe you’ve never read a Marvel comic.”

“And I can’t believe I’m surprised that you have.” Lucas grumbles back.

Eliott shoots him a lazy grin, raising one eyebrow. “What was that?”

“I’ll wear the spandex?”

Eliott’s grin turns wicked. He’s already regretting this.

***

He regrets it. For a series of numerous reasons.

Okay, regret is a heavy word. He just… Halloween wasn’t a thing for him growing up, that’s all. When he still lived with his mama she’d always shut down the windows and lock all the doors three times, just in case, because she’s always had a struggling relationship with demonic creatures.

And Lucas, well, he’s always had a struggling relationship with the dark. It’s just fucking scary, okay? It’s scary, and lonely, and everyone always tells you ‘oh don’t worry, there’s nothing there!’ But you can’t fucking see that, can you?

See where this is going?

So yes, he hates the fucking dark, and everywhere he looks there’s shadows lurking in the corner and people in costumes that are fucking ugly, and fuck his life. Fuck his life, and also Eliott Demaury for, on top of everything, making him wear the tightest piece of clothing he’s worn in his life.

He thinks he’s funny, shooting Lucas knowing glances every time he flinches at a loud noise, looking ridiculously beautiful in that stupid Spiderman costume. Although, if he has to be appreciative of something, is the way Eliott’s long torso looks in the red and blue fabric.

He’s got his face mask in one hand, same as Lucas, so the costume only reaches up to his neck. His hair is all messy, grey eyes shining bright under the last rays of sunshine, and Lucas thinks his sexual awakening would have gone a lot smoother had this been the version of Spiderman he grew up with.

Or maybe he’s just in love.

“I see you’re enjoying yourself.” Eliott says in his ear as they walk past a group of kids with their brains in their hands. “Seriously, relax. It looks like you’re sucking on a lemon. Not a good look on you, baby.”

“Oh, shut up.” Lucas laughs, dragging his gaze away from them. “You love me in any shape-“

A loud thud behind them makes Lucas gasp. He turns his head around so fast he’s impressed he didn’t snap his neck, and the sudden coil in his stomach eases when he sees it’s just a near neighbor taking out the trash.

God, he’s a loser.

“Fucking hell.”

Eliott doesn’t laugh this time. He just bumps their shoulders together quietly, offering him a soft smile before resting his hand on the small of his back, dangerously close to his ass.

That’s another thing. For some reason, his boyfriend has decided in the past three hours that he’s really into Lucas in this costume. Really into it.

He’s lost count of the times Eliott has slapped, kneaded and squeezed his ass since they left home. He had to physically hold Eliott’s arms around his waist on the subway because Eliott’s hand kept traveling south. After the fifth time it happened Lucas slapped his hand away.

“I can’t help that you’re so hot!” Eliott had whined.

“Well, you’re gonna fucking have to.”

He would have been more concerned if the attention hadn’t been 100% on him.

(And Eliott does have a point. These costumes really leave nothing to imagination, and it makes their bums looking fucking great.)

Just then Eliott’s hands drops one inch lower, slender fingers brushing against the swell of Lucas’ ass. Lucas narrows his eyes, taking one step away.

Reaching behind his back, he grabs at one of the swords strapped to his back. “See this? I’m gonna poke you in the eye with it if you don’t stop touching my ass” he hisses under his breath, tilting Eliott’s chin up with the tip of the plastic sword. “There’s kids around.”

Eliott points to it. “You should use that to fight the trashcan from earlier.”

“I hate you.”

Eliott pouts, looking at him pleadingly. Lucas straps the sword back with a sigh and puts Eliott’s hand back on his ass. He can’t even pretend to be grumpy when Eliott looks so damn happy as they keep walking.

“You know I’m only kidding, right?” Eliott says suddenly, sliding his hand from Lucas’ ass to curl around his waist. He drops a kiss to Lucas’ cheek. “I love you, slight apprehension of the dark and all.”

Lucas raises Eliott’s hand up to his mouth and kisses it wordlessly. He smiles against the cold skin.

He swears he just heard a wolf howl, but he doesn’t tell Eliott about it.

Eerie music comes from the big speakers propped up in the Demaury’s yard. There’s a big pumpkin at the front door and spider webs hanging from the doorframe and windowsills. There’s a small sized sticker of a ghost plastered to the wall, looks like it’s barely holding on in there – probably put there by Jules. It makes Lucas smile.

Jules squeals when the sees them. He’s dressed in a black Spiderman suit, a literal small version of his older brother, and when they stand together it makes Lucas warm.

“Lulu, you look so cool!” Jules squeaks excitedly, hugging his legs. Lucas crunches down to pick him up, letting him touch everywhere in wonder. Eventually he finds the swords strapped to his back and looks at Lucas with wide eyes. “Can I play with the swords?”

Lucas laughs, dropping Jules to the floor to grab the swords.

“Be careful though.”

With that, Jules sets off running. Never too far away from them, he walks ahead on the street. The swords rattling across the pavement make an unsettling noise, and Lucas holds on tighter to Eliott’s hand when the cross a park with no streetlights.

For being the city of light, they should fucking invest on some streetlights.

Jules clinks one of the swords against something metallic, and Lucas jumps.

“I fucking hate Halloween.” He groans into Eliott’s shoulder.

Eliott just laughs.

They walk so many houses Lucas’ feet start hurting. Jules’ pumpkin bag is brimmed to the brink with very sweet candy that gives Lucas cavities just by looking at it. They make quite a trio, the three of them.

They pass groups of high-schoolers and little kids with their relatives - Lucas sees a lot of questionable costumes. Some of them he wishes he could unsee. It’s less scary like this though. Despite the theme, the streets are full of people. Loud laugher and the occasional shriek, nothing scary about a five year old wearing a skeleton costume and making ‘boo’ noises at them.

It makes Lucas relax.

Since Jules isn’t tall enough to reach the doorbell, he takes turns in dragging him and Eliott by the wrist to call at the door for them. They get complimented for their costumes a lot – someone says they make a beautiful family, and it makes Lucas blush and Eliott say thank you. Jules keeps himself busy nibbling on a strawberry licorice wheel.

On the way back, when it’s much, much later – much darker, and much colder – a girl stops them. She looks older than what they’ve seen all evening, and there’s a small group of them, girls and boys alike standing a few feet away from her, dressed similarly to her.

“Sorry to bother you guys, but I love your costumes.” She says excitedly. Guess you don’t see two grown ass men in expensive costumes going trick-or-treat in the suburbs of Paris, Lucas thinks. “I’ve always loved this pair.”

Eliott turns to look at him with a ‘I told you so’ grin. Lucas huffs amusedly, and Jules looks at them confusedly from his place in Eliott’s hip.

“Thank you.” Lucas says politely, “love your costume too.”

The girl’s grin widens. “Do you mind if I take a pic?”

They look at each other through the masks and shrug at each other.

“Sure.”

Eliott drops Jules to the ground and Lucas walks over to him, wrapping one arm around his shoulder and shuffling closer. Stupidly, he smiles behind the mask, as though it’ll make a difference for the picture. He stays still.

A moment later Eliott is spinning him around, hooking his fingers under Lucas’ mask and lifting it over his nose before pressing their lips together. Lucas loops his arms around Eliott’s neck automatically, and Eliott wraps his around Lucas’ hips.

He hears someone whispering something that sounds a lot like ‘oh my god they look so fucking hot’, and it makes them smile into the kiss.

“Yuck!” Jules says all of a sudden. He goes to tug at Eliott’s leg. “I’m tired Eli, can we go home now?”

Lucas muffles his laughter in Eliott’s shoulder.

Eliott picks Jules back up again and secures him on his hip, saying goodbye to the friend group.

Jules spends the whole way there, with the candy bag gripped tightly in his hand and his head drooping to Eliott’s chest every few minutes. Eliott carries him with one hand and holds Lucas’ with the free one. When they drop Jules off at home he’s been asleep in Eliott’s arms for a while.

The person from the house two blocks away was right: they make a beautiful family.

It’s darker than it’s been all evening, or at least that’s what Lucas thinks. They’ve decided to walk to Emma’s after dropping Jules off at Eliott’s parents’. It’s a cold night, and he’s seriously considering putting his mask back on to fight the biting cold hitting his cheeks.

It’s quiet for most of the walk, no kids screaming (probably eating their Halloween candy as dinner) or cars rushing through the streets (on the way to getting passed out drunk at a bar or in some house party). Just the sound of their steps and their voices being carried away by the wind.

Eliott’s got his hand in Lucas’ and he’s telling him about something he saw on a store glass a few blocks back. His fingers are cold, because he got the only Spiderman costume in the store without the hand gloves, and the tip of his nose shines pink every time they walk under a lamppost. He looks like the cutest Spiderman Lucas’ ever seen.

Eliott stares mid-rant when he notices Lucas staring at him. He looks back funnily, tilting his head to the side with a small smile.

“What?”

Lucas shrugs, matching smile of his own. “Nothing.”

Eliott squeezes his hand.

”What time is it?”

The question is sudden, and Lucas looks at Eliott curiously. After a beat of silence he just reaches inside the pocket on the costume’s belt, where he’s got both his and Eliott’s phones. The phone screen lights up their faces when he unlocks it.

“21:21”

Eliott’s expression turns solemn.

“Can we go somewhere before going to Emma’s party?”

“Sure?”

He doesn’t have time to think what any of it means when Eliott is suddenly tugging at their joined hands, rushing them through the empty streets. Lucas keeps his gaze set on the back of Eliott’s head as they run; they’re both panting, the cold air turning their breath into white smoke, and they’re both laughing a little although he’s not sure why.

The tight fabric of their costumes accentuates the curve of Eliott’s back, the muscles underneath flexing and relaxing while they run. Lucas understands Eliott’s fixation a little better.

They’re standing in front of a gate Lucas knows all too well when Eliott asks him to close his eyes.

“Run and keep my eyes closed at the same time? Shit, love, I know you like to skip class but you must have heard about self-preservation.”

Eliott grins at that.

“No running then.”

Eliott walks behind Lucas, wrapping one arm around Lucas’ shoulders and covering his eyes with the other. Lucas thinks he could tell Eliott that he doesn’t need to cover his eyes for him, that he wouldn’t peek anyway if Eliott asked. But he likes Eliott guiding him better, so he keeps his mouth shut.

He thought his heart would stop beating this fast every time they walk in here after such a long time, but it still does.

“This is spooky,” Lucas comments quietly. Branches tweak and crunch under their feet, and breaking the silence feels like an offense. “Is this the part where you finally murder me? Very Halloween-y.”

Eliott’s warm chest rumbles against his back when he laughs. “Yeah, I’ve been playing the long game. No one will suspect me.”

Lucas hums. “Very smart of you.”

“I know.”

They walk a few more steps until Eliott finally stops. He stays still as Eliott circles his body. His eyes stay closed even when Eliott removes his hand, waiting for instructions.

“Wait here.” Eliott whispers. His breath hits Lucas’ mouth, and Lucas reaches forward to grab his hips. “With your eyes closed.”

Lucas lets go of Eliott in surprise.

“Eh, no!? I’m not keeping my eyes closed, Eli, what the fuck? It’s dark and it’s Halloween, and hell fucking no.”

Eliott grabs him by neck and kisses him silent, before whispering against his lips “Just for a second.”

Then his touch is gone. Lucas’ heartbeat fucking skyrockets.

The sound of faint branches cracking makes the hairs at the back of his neck stand. He tells himself that it’s just his idiotic boyfriend doing fuck knows what, but when you can’t see it’s really hard to convince yourself of something you can’t check.

A particular loud squeak makes him jump, and he bites on his tongue to avoid yelling. He moves forward at the noise, in search of Eliott’s body. When he finds nothing but air he’s this close to saying fuck it all and open his eyes, to the cost of Eliott’s disappointment, because he’d rather live, thanks, and he’s sure Eliott would appreciate a boyfriend to be disappointed in than no boyfriend at all.

But then Eliott says “okay, you can open them now.”

And when Lucas does, Eliott’s face is looking at him upside down.

He’s-

Eliott is hanging from a thick tree branch with a self-satisfied grin on his face. Lucas’ mouth drops open.

“Oh my fucking god.” Lucas breathes. “Oh my god, you fucking idiot, get down here! You’re gonna break your fucking neck.” He says, waving his hands above Eliott’s body without touching, afraid the wrong touch will make him fall.

Eliott surges his hand forward to cup Lucas’ face, beaming. “It’s fine.” He pulls Lucas closer, palms fitting over Lucas’ cheeks and grey sparkly eyes staring into Lucas’, and Lucas breathes.

He breathes, wrapping his fingers around Eliott’s wrists, and smiles up at Eliott helplessly.

Eliott makes a sweet sound. “Trick or kiss?” he whispers.

“You’re an idiot.” He whispers back, but he moves his hands from Eliott’s wrists to his cheeks and brushes their lips together softly. Eliott sighs into the kiss, brushes his knuckles across Lucas’ cold cheeks, fits his thumb under Lucas’ chin.

He lets Eliott sneak in a couple more kisses - to the corner of his mouth, to his nose, then back to Lucas’ lips again – before taking a step away.

“Okay, get back down now.”

Eliott’s eyes flutter open at the sound of Lucas’ voice. He looks like he had forgotten where he was for a second, and it takes everything in Lucas to stop himself from walking over and kissing him again.

Smiling dopily, Eliott crunches up to hold the branch with his hands. He flips one leg over the branch, sitting on it for a second before moving down a branch, and then another one. His feet gets stuck in between two, and Lucas snorts.

“Some Spiderman you make…” Eliott shoots him a death glare, shaking his feet free before crunching down on the closest branch to the ground. “If you fall and die, I won’t cry at your funeral.”

Eliott hops down easily, moving to curl his arm around Lucas’ neck with a smirk. “Liar. You’d cry the most.”

“You dumb fuck,” he says, but he rubs his cold nose on Eliott’s neck before looking up at Eliott. “You cute, dumb fuck.”

Eliott kisses him soundly. “Merc with a mouth.”

They kiss again, Lucas tipping his body forward and curling himself closer under Eliott’s arm. He moves his hand to press against Eliott’s jaw as Eliott’s tongue slips between his lips, sliding it up and down the smooth material covering his chest. He sighs softly into the kiss when Eliott’s hand goes to the back of his head, scratching a little.

They pull back to catch their breathing. There’s red in Eliott’s cheeks, from the cold or the kissing, Lucas isn’t entirely sure, and he raises up on his tip toes to leave a kiss under his eye.

It’s then that a loud fucking metallic noise comes from inside the bridge.

Lucas looks up at Eliott with wide eyes. “Should I bring out the swords, or…?” He jokes weakly, but his knuckles turn white under the costume where he’s gripping Eliott’s arm.

Eliott frowns, looking behind him before looking back at Lucas. “Let’s just get out of here.”

And well, Lucas isn’t about to argue that.

Later, when they’re back outside and the lampposts light up the streets and Lucas has stopped clenching his jaw every time he hears a noise, Eliott says conversationally

“I’m gonna make a movie about you.”

Lucas grins up at Eliott. “Oh yeah?”

Eliott hums. “Yeah, wanna know how I’m gonna call it?” he asks, waiting for Lucas’ nods. “The hero who was scared of the dark.”

“I thought I was supposed to be an anti-hero?”

Eliott stops, and with him Lucas. He puts his hand in Lucas’ neck. Brushes Lucas’ cheekbone with his thumb, small smile like he knows something that Lucas doesn’t. “Nah. Not for me.”

Lucas kisses him. He keeps their hands intertwined all the way to Emma’s party.

End.

#:)#skam france #elu fic #elu

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surrealsunday · 3 years ago

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So, not to sound dramatic but I’ve finished to read (and re-read) all of your fics and now I don’t know what to do with my life 🥲

to use Eliott’s words in Tempo: “you ruined me for everyone else”, you definitely set the bar, and I can only hope there’s more in store cause I’m sold for every version of Elu you’ll come up with.

Each AU is written so well, and I love that each version of Elu has different quirks, inside jokes, attitudes and pet-names, like Tempo!Eliott calls Lucas “a little shit” all the time while in Mood Tattoo he’s the “biggest fucking brat” and Eli is “Average”, in “Hollow Edge” Eliott’s always referred as Sassling or Princeling (oh can we talk about the part where Lucas called him by his name in bed and got no response, so he called him “Princeling” and Eliott’s head quickly snap to him? That moment was so important to me, I can’t even-) and don’t even let me start with Punzel, all their knowing subtle types of pout and doe-eye princess looks? AND THE NICKNAMES? Punzel, Babylu, Princess, Lu, Lu baby… I just wanted to hug him so tight, Punzel has been a rough patch to read for me cause Lucas was such a soft baby and didn’t absolutely deserve all those years of constantly heartbreak, yearning and miscommunication, I was like Chandler crying out loud “I JUST DON’T SEE WHY THOSE TWO CAN’T WORK THINGS OUT” over Ross and Rachel lol (does anyone here sometimes randomly think about the way Punzel!Eliott got the nerve to introduce his former boyfriend to Punzel!Lucas with “This is Gavin; Gavin, this is my Lu; and this is Yann, the guy who’s always trying to steal Lu from me” LIKE IT WAS SO CLEAR BUT THEY WERE SO BLIND, Istg I’m coming to collect all the years those two idiots took me off along with Idriss 😭😭)

Anyway, I need to spend some words for Mood Tattoo cause Mood!Lucas is one of my favorite now. It’s been interesting to read from an Eliott’s point of view, but that left me with quite some questions about Lucas’ attitude sometimes, like for example in the dinner scene with the crew: they’ve just spent a nice time together, then Manon asked Eliott how things were going at work and it all went down to shit, with Lucas starting to attack him over nothing till it led to them in Idriss’ bedroom; I was wondering if there was a real issue there that unnerved him or if he was just deliberately provoking Eliott to riled him up in order to go physical cause he was into the “hate sex” thing? And when he pushed Eliott in the on-call room and they’re kissing and then Eliott noticed Lucas’ smiling before he pushed him toward the bed was because he has already half in mind to blow him and spread the spunk all over Eliott’s top? (cause we all know Lucas’ such a little shit and got a thing for spreading spunk all over Eliott’s clothes just because lol). Mood!Lucas was such a charming enigma, it was impossible to not fall for him right there and then.

Anyway, I loved how we finally had an AU where Lucas met Eliott’s parents in one of your stories; it was so wholesome to see them all together, the dinner scene where Luca holds Eliott’s hand underneath the table is one of my fav Elu moments in every universes, I swear. There was so much tenderness, strenght, support and love in that act, I don’t know how you came up with that but hell, it was perfection. And what about Lucas randomly picking up a flower for him out of nowhere when they didn’t even talk about being an established couple? It was so precious, along with all those other small big details who made my heart squeeze in joy (“gonna bring it up when we’ll be 50” “our next vacation” “our plant” “there’s you” 🥺).

Jesus, this is gonna be embarrassing cause it shows how much I’m fixated with this fic but I have to tell it: the picture you made of the morning after, where Lucas is quietly sitting at the table eating his bowl of cereal, eyes stubbornly glued to the bowl after Eliott reached to lick a drop of milk from his chin, then his hissed “Stop it. We’re not going to have sex”… Idk why it hit me so much as a scene but he was so adorable in that moment, he’s a baby 😭

Another moment I hold dear to my heart is from Hollow Edge, precisely when they’re all in the bathtub and Eliott asks Lucas why he doesn’t talk about him in that way with his friends and Lucas scoffs and reply that of course he’s not gonna chat about their sexual lives, “it’s you. it’s different” 🥺🥺 this was so in Hollow Edge!Lucas character, being a cocky flirty shameless kid about everything and everyone all the time but being secretive about anything that involves Eliott cause he’s something he treasures in his heart and his heart only.

This is actually something I meant to ask you: your creative process about your stories. ‘Cause each Lucas is quite different from each others and from the original (although not too much; they’re always undeniably Lucas Lallemant), and each of them is written so well based on the main personality traits they have in every AU context (for example, Hollow!Edge Lucas is shameless, open and flirty in a way that Tempo!Lucas is not, just like Mood Tattoo!Lucas is smug, physical and provocative (“you’d better not waste my time, average; so two strokes or three? just wanna adjust my expectations”, he was such a confident smug brat, I LOVED HIM SO MUCH) in a very different way than Punzel!Lucas, and those main peculiar traits goes with the character for the rest of the fic in a perfect dosed way, like you read it and you’re like “of course he’s gonna act like this, this is totally him in this universe” (I hope it makes sense what I’m trying to say here); and it shows even in the media content, the captions or their replies are so in context.. you made a great work here, that’s why I was wondering how does it work for you the entire process, the way you structure the characters, the chapters, the storyline, the dialogues…? I’m sorry if it’s too much, I’m just very fascinated and struck in awe by the way your works are so flawless.

Honestly, I think I’d read anything from you at this point, even the groceries list; you know how to create magic with words, and I’m so grateful you shared your incredible amount of talent with us ♥️.

Ok first, this is such a lovely message it made me screech when I first read it. I can't tell how much I enjoyed reading this and hearing your thoughts ❤️❤️❤️.

Second, I apologize for how long it took me to respond. I actually HAD typed out a huge response weeks and weeks ago and then I somehow hit something on my keyboard and lost the whole response 😩????!!! I was a little bit upset about it and had to give myself a moment before re-doing the entire thing 😅. I wanted to do so with a fresh mind and when I had the enthusiasm to respond as you deserve (and yes... I am saving this as a draft 500 times as I go lmao). Putting this under a ‘read more’ because it’s gonna be loooooong...

I love so much that you read all my fics and got something different out of each of them. I worry a lot when it comes to my writing that because I do have a natural style, they’ll end up being too repetitive or similar, so hearing that each iteration of Eliott and Lucas comes across differently is really satisfying! And I LOVE coming up with the little quirks in each of their dynamics. That is the most fun. Their nicknames for one another and the deeper meaning behind each - as it suits their dynamic - is something that has always arisen naturally in the writing process and I enjoy so much. Like ‘Princeling’ and ‘Sassling’ etc. in Hollow Edge. As you were pointing out, those nicknames meant sooooo much to Eliott. Even more than they meant to Lucas. To Lucas it was a way of separating Eliott from his title - essentially taking the pomp and circumstance out of Eliott being a Prince - bringing him down to Lucas’s level so to speak. For Eliott though, those nicknames represented everything he thought he couldn’t have, that normalcy and intimacy with someone. That he could be MORE than just his title to someone, and that his title could became less about a need for deference than a reason to tease. Eliott loved that. While all their nicknames for one another in the fics have meaning, I’d say the nicknames for Eliott in Hollow Edge are the most significant (Punzel probably comes second place with ‘baby Lu’ vs. ‘Lu baby’ vs Princess, etc).

Punzel Lucas is definitely a soft bub 😌. And being in his POV in childhood on compounds that exponentially I think. I laughed so hard at this: “ I was like Chandler crying out loud “I JUST DON’T SEE WHY THOSE TWO CAN’T WORK THINGS OUT” over Ross and Rachel lol” 😂. I feel like it’s a very raw angst in Punzel because it’s a slow ache over time. Yes, there are more dramatic moments in the present that show the culmination of that angst, but I really wanted that one to have an overall ache (one that I feel like a lot of people could relate to - even if not directly associated with unrequited love). And that moment with Gavin... lmaooooo. They truly were so obvious to everyone but themselves. The reader (and Idriss) are definitely owed years of your lives. I snickered writing that whole flashback.

As for Mood Tattoo Lucas, he is for sure an enigma. I knew he would come across that way because we were in Eliott’s POV, but also because Lucas does a number of things that are a bit contradictory. It seems like his actions are nonsensical at times because they are. Not even he totally understands what he’s doing early on in the fic, and that was intentional (but a bit of a risk in writing). For Lucas in the early chapters, his primary goal was NOT to like Eliott as much as he might should circumstances have begun differently. The problem with that is that he IS attracted to Eliott (and that pisses him off endlessly) and there are those moments when Eliott shows those glimmers of being kind and gentle and ‘a good fucking person’ as Lucas would put it, when Lucas can’t help but feel a little something - butterflies in the stomach if you will. So most of Lucas’s time is spent trying very hard not to fall for Eliott and a lot of his actions are rooted in that desire, however misguided. He doesn’t quite let go of that until around the time they start having some heart-to-hearts (about Lucas’s mom, Eliott’s diagnosis) and then go away together.

While there are times Lucas baits Eliott, that moment before they hook up in Idriss’s room (RIP Idriss 💀) isn’t so much Lucas baiting Eliott into a fight/ hookup. It’s a moment in the fic I may not have gotten across what I meant to as effectively as I would have liked. But essentially, Lucas does operate in extremes with Eliott in those early stages and can swing from hate to like to lust and back again pretty quickly. And in that moment of what seems to be an innocuous conversation between the friends, Lucas does swing pretty quickly to genuine annoyance. He is frustrated with the way Eliott downplays himself - I would say that’s actually a bit of a trigger for Lucas (and comes with his own baggage). Eliott throughout that fic has a habit of basically apologizing for who he is (I think it goes hand-in-hand with anxiety and mental illness a lot of the time which is why I had made that a part of Eliott’s personality). He rarely will own the fact that he’s good at what he does (sidenote: very intentionally in the fic, the few times he does is when he’s being instigated by Lucas or in an argument with him). This frustrates Lucas endlessly as Lucas is so naturally underestimated (and that knowledge and fear was part of his ‘relationship’ with Moreau). And here is someone like Eliott - who in Lucas’s eyes has it all - and refuses to enjoy that. And of course, Lucas very quickly jumps to the assumption that Eliott is intentionally bringing up Moreau again, which only compounds his annoyance (though I would say there is some fear mixed in there too). Eliott for his part is just as thrown as the reader is supposed to be. This all comes from a place of them not fully understanding one another yet - as so many of the early arguments do. And then... as is their dynamic in Mood Tattoo, the intensity of emotion that comes with any of their arguments very easily translates to intensity in a totally different - but maybe not actually dissimilar - way 😏😂.

Oh and Lucas smiling at that moment in the on-call room in Mood Tattoo was a glimpse of genuine Lucas. 🥺. Eliott starts to get that more and more as the fic goes on but he doesn’t grasp it right then. Basically it’s Lucas truly happy to be kissing Eliott, letting himself have that moment... it’s him enjoying himself. And part of that is that despite his outward anger at Eliott for not taking the opportunity for the surgery with Moreau, Lucas is actually very moved by Eliott insisting that is his choice. Don’t get him wrong, Lucas does think it’s a stupid fucking choice 😆, but the thought that Eliott made that choice because of - if not for Lucas is a big deal. In Lucas’s brain it translates (quite rightly) to him saying ‘You should think of yourself and your career first’ and Eliott responding by just being a good person who operates with a moral guidepost and cares about what Lucas thinks (without even knowing the full story about Moreau). So... Lucas wanted to kiss his face off. Eliott just doesn’t get that until Lucas literally does it.

The dinner/ holding Eliott’s hand scene in Mood Tattoo is one of my favourites. I’m glad you loved it too. I got misty eyed writing it and picturing that moment actually. And omg I love the image of that morning with Eliott wiping the milk off Lucas’s face too. They were being hella cute that morning I agree. It was fun to allow them a dynamic that was a little more light-hearted and flirty. There was so much intensity between them it was fun just to let them have fun. And mixing a little bit of the domestic with the sexy is always the best in my books. I think all those more subtle moments (like the daisy too) are really what give the relationship layers and make it the most genuine and believable. I’m so glad you noticed them!

I so agree about Hollow Edge Lucas too... he’s the most closed off and prickly and cocky... except when it comes to Eliott. With Eliott everything is different, and he’s constantly amazed when Eliott is surprised by that. The whole ‘because it’s you’ thing was repeated a few times in the writing process before I fully realized it and then implemented it as their ‘thing’. It was almost like they did that naturally and it took me longer to realize.

And on that note, your question about my creative process is so well written and interesting. I will do the best I can to explain how I develop a story and how it works - but I am also extremely chaotic with my writing so I apologize in advance 😅. In each of the stories I look at it is the same Eliott and Lucas from the show... but if they existed in those universes. I will often remind myself of their traits from the show and then consider how they might come across given the circumstances of the particular universe I am writing. For example, in the show Lucas really can be the most soft and vulnerable, but I fucking love that he has a surprising confidence we didn’t see in other iterations of the Isak character. Like him approaching Eliott first... or asking Eliott how he would draw him. Those sorts of things I like to keep in mind. So in every universe I do give Lucas that cocky confidence but it comes across differently depending on the context. In Hollow Edge his confidence is his defense - it’s literally what he needed to survive and so it’s much more bold and in your face (and rooted in a desire to protect and defend - himself and others). The vulnerability is what comes later. In Punzel, he’s known Eliott for so long that Eliott got to know Lucas before Lucas really came into himself as a teen and then adult. So Lucas’s confidence in that one becomes more of him being a bit of a spoiled brat and knowing that Eliott will do anything for him. In Mood Tattoo the confidence was to come across a lot more harshly because we were in Eliott’s pov and that’s how Eliott saw him... and then slowly that unravels, and while Lucas remains quite prickly, you start to see the holes in that confidence.

Same idea for Eliott when it comes to his vulnerabilities. With him I often look at how his fears and anxiety will affect his personality in each universe. So in Hollow Edge he was incredibly sheltered, so we a lot more of that softness and insecurity from the very beginning. Whereas in something like Mood Tattoo it’s not believable that Eliott would make it as far as he does in his career without having an ability to manipulate his own fears and anxieties in a way that works for him (i.e. not becoming a cold, emotionally removed surgeon). And in Punzel from the beginning he has Lucas’s support in a way he obviously didn’t in canon as they didn’t meet until later, so I gave a lot of consideration to how that would change Eliott (and help in many ways) when it came to accepting his mental illness.

When it comes to how I actually go about planning and writing a story, that is a bit all over the place. To be honest, a lot of it is just daydreaming. I usually come up with an idea and often it’s just a scene and premise. And then as I think about it more and more, little details will trickle in and colour the overall picture. For example, I’d been thinking about Hollow Edge for a while before I ever came up with the whole Princess Bride connection. I was just driving and thinking about what nickname Lucas might refer to Eliott by... which made me think of the ‘buttercup’ line... which made me think of Princess Bride... which then shaped the entire fic. I really can’t explain how my brain goes about working those things out but it’s rarely in an organized or controlled fashion. I usually do try to form an outline for the fic - i.e. major events and when they might happen - but I wholeheartedly admit that I end up writing and never looking at the outline and not at all doing what I originally intended. This is often because, as I like to say, the characters have minds of their own. Like even when I’m writing a scene I’ll be thinking ‘ok, the point of the scene is to get them to do x, y, and z.’ But then the two start talking in the scene and it goes in a totally different direction and I just let them roll with it because that always ends up feeling the most natural. That’s also why I don’t plan out dialogue. I often know the vibe or feeling I’m trying to get across and then I just start typing and see what they say. So the banter and jokes and arguments all come very naturally as I write. Or at least I think they feel very natural and authentic - like they might actually talk. I think it’s probably obvious in moments too that I just let them banter - like the oompa loompa thing in Punzel? Lmao. Obviously not planned. I was just letting them be cute and have their little ‘no one can pop their bubble’ way of speaking and that’s where it ended up.

And of course I have a pretty intense editing process. And usually if something isn’t reading or sounding right, I catch it when I’m editing and I will adjust. It’s really important to me that you feel in the moment with them as you read the dialogue. I feel like more planned out dialogue can feel very stilted - even if it’s written beautifully. As an example, I was recently reading Where the Crawdad’s Sing which had been raved about for years. And it is very beautifully written don’t get me wrong, but my god there were moment’s when I was reading dialogue and said out loud, ‘No one talks like this’. So for me, especially when it comes to characters we’ve seen interact so beautifully and naturally on screen, with so much chemistry, the dialogue really has to be right and not super ‘crafted’ by me. One of my main goals when writing was to have it all read as ‘easy’. I love when I’m reading a story and it’s just so fun to read. And even in the more difficult and angsty moments I didn’t want any of it to read like a chore. So that thought guides most of my writing.

A big thing that also helps I think (for me in particular I mean) is that I write the whole story before ever posting a chapter. Because of the way I write quite chaotically, I have to be able to go back and edit things in earlier chapters based on things that might have come up later and randomly later in the story. Or when it comes to particular metaphors that run throughout the story or visuals I want to remain consistent, it’s very helpful for me to be able to go back and scrutinize earlier chapters. Also I will often intentionally repeat bits of dialogue later in different context as callbacks to earlier moments, and little things like that often don’t occur to me until I’m writing that later chapter, so having the ability to go back and make those moments work as parallels is super helpful.

I will say that in the end I truly never know how my stories come together 😬😂. I doubt their ability to incredibly often as I write. I take on these huge ideas and they get bigger and bigger as I write and it often seems incredibly overwhelming but I sort of trust the process (and often am motivated just to get it done so I can share it) and somehow in the end it becomes a fully formed story.

Anyways, I should stop rambling because this really is a full-on essay now (you see how my stories get to be so long!). Your comments were so interesting though so I really wanted to give them the attention they deserved. Thank you again and again for taking the time to write this message to me. I apologize again for taking so long to reply. If there is anything that was unclear or I didn’t answer, please let me know. I am sending you all the hugs and just hope you know that comments like this are really why I write and why it is such a joy for me.

Thank you thank you and HUGS! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#writing things #fanfic things #punzel fic #hollow edge fic #mood tattoo fic

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ropebunnykant · 3 years ago

Note

OK I want to hear very honest opinion about something I love all of your taste and had to agree with a lot of what you say curious to know how you feel about Arthur cheating on Alexia in comparison with Eliott cheating on Lucille with Lucas. I remember when Skam OG s3 came out and it was absolute perfection but something that I always had an issue with was the cheating plotline. Because at that point I had completely been over the whole cheating in LGBTQIA+ storylines throughout time. it definitely had its purpose in the story but I still couldn’t help but be a little bit over it. So of course France comes around and of course they’re going to include that in the story which makes sense. But tell me why I felt like Arthur cheating on alexia was so much worse and so uncalled for. But the same could be said about the Evens cheating on their girlfriends. I gues?? What are your thoughts? Lol

ooo okay i actually have a lot of thoughts on this! i totally agree that i had a much stronger and negative reaction to arthur’s cheating than eliott/even’s, but i think that there’s a couple reasons as to why that is.

the first one is kind of obvious — we don’t really know sonja. in s3, when the evens cheat on their girlfriends, as much as we can recognize from an objective standpoint that cheating is bad and it’s wrong for us to do that, we also don’t really care because we don’t know the sonja. we meet her twice before he kisses the isak, and in the second interaction she comes off as bitchy/nagging, so it’s easy to brush it off and not care about it.

however, with alexia and arthur, we’ve known alexia for all five seasons! that’s something we can’t even say about arthur because he came in during s3. we know her, we love her, we want her to be happy, so having to watch her boyfriend cheat on her, especially when she’s been such a loving and supportive girlfriend feels way worse than watching the evens cheat on the sonjas.

there’s more to it though! and it has to do with what i said about alexia. by the time that arthur cheats on her in s5, we know her, but we also know about their relationship. alexia is an incredibly supportive and loving girlfriend, she does absolutely everything she can for him after he loses his hearing, and she expresses these insecurities to him, and their relationship feels strong and healthy! but then arthur cheats on her anyway. with a skinny girl, no less, and after alexia had expressed these huge insecurities to him.

now with the evens and sonjas, it’s different. not only do we witness the cracks, but by the end of the season, we do know that their relationship wasn’t good anymore. that while they had been together for so long, the evens weren’t feeling it anymore and the sonjas had become more of a caretaker than a girlfriend.

it doesn’t make it excusable in either case, but cheating in a healthy relationship versus in an unhealthy one are just very different situations, and thus we have very different feelings and reactions toward them

#i hope this makes sense skdkdkd but yeah #skam france #skam #asks #nonnies

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ayellowcurtain · 4 years ago

Text

Could you do something sweet and soft where lucas had a bad day and eliott wants to spoil him so he makes him a nice romantic dinner?

Lucas tries to read the same sentence for the fourth or fifth time, his eyes always wandering to his left, the locked bedroom door. He looks around at the messy floor that he can barely see, mostly covered with all his and Eliott’s dirty clothes. He needs a break and he can't leave so he stands on the bed and jumps down, grabbing all the dirty clothes, pulling the basket from inside their closet, putting all their clothes inside to take to the laundry once he's free.

It's been over an hour and Eliott knows Lucas is not patient. Locking him inside one small room can only make him even less patient. But it's a fuzzy, feel-good type of anxiety this time.

It's not like Eliott locked him inside to have a fight later. He's planning something and if Lucas knows his boyfriend even a little bit, it's probably something big and extreme and so romantic and cheesy. And Lucas will love every second of it because Eliott is the one who made it.

Lucas laughs at himself for being so disgustingly in love after years of dating, the feeling exactly the same as it was when they met for the first time. It's easier now with no Chlóe or Lucille in the middle.

After cleaning up the floor, Lucas looks around, he makes their bed - doesn't change the sheets because it might need an actual change later, hopefully - but makes their bed all pretty and comfortable, even caring enough to put the extra pillows they keep inside the closet on top of their normal ones to make it look like they're in a fancy hotel.

Eliott left all his sketchbooks open in the small table they have set up in front of the bed, right under the window. It was a nightmare when they bought the table but Lucas thought it would be better to have a proper place for Eliott to draw whenever he wakes up a little too early and wants to keep himself busy.

He can't lie, Lucas loves when he wakes up to find a shirtless Eliott sitting on his chair, his pale skin still marked with wrinkles of their mattress and pillows. Eliott will always sense when he's waking up and he'll always look back over his shoulder and smile at Lucas. And Lucas will always ask him to come back to bed just for a quick good morning kiss before Lucas can leave him alone with his sketches while Lucas gets up to make them some breakfast.

Lucas closes the sketchbooks carefully and puts them in a pile on the windowsill, putting the pens and pencils inside the vintage cup Eliott bought over a year ago to organize his day-to-day favorite pencils. He cleans the table and puts the sketchbooks back in the middle.

He looks at the door again and whines, leaning against it to see if he can hear anything coming from the outside world.

“Eli?” He asks, almost shouts to make sure he's heard wherever Eliott is in the apartment.

“Yes?” Eliott answers after a second and Lucas rolls his eyes, feeling the smile in his voice. Lucas wants to punch him while kissing his whole face.

“Let me out…” He tries to use his softest voice and not laugh because he's the only one in the room, extremely aware of how stupid he sounds. Eliott would think it's cute but when he's alone, Lucas feels so dumb doing it.

“Wait a little more. Five more minutes. Ten if I run late.” Lucas carefully turns the door knob but it's still locked but he can still see the shadow under the door and by the way he can clearly hear Eliott this time, he's sure his boyfriend is just on the other side of the door.

“Five minutes it's a lot.”

“You should be studying. This is supposed to be a little something just to make you relax. So go study, Lucas!”

Lucas grunts, resting his forehead against the door before turning himself around to go back to his books still open on his pillow.

“Five minutes, Eliott! I'll put a timer on you.”

“Yes, sir!”

Lucas waits until the shadow under the door is gone and he sits down, trying to go back to that one line he was struggling with before. He has to finish this homework in the next five minutes too because there's no way he'll find the will to go back to it later or before tomorrow's class. Yann will kill him if he asks again to use his homework as a guide because he's done that a little too much. Yann keeps asking when their honeymoon phase will be over.

When Lucas puts all his mind to work in his books and before he can feel anxious again, he hears the door being unlocked and Eliott's head appears inside with a coy smile on his perfect lips.

“You ready?”

“Fuck yes!” Lucas slams his book closed and jumps to the floor again, waiting for Eliott to step back and open the door so he can go.

“I hope you like it, baby. It's just a little something.”

Lucas smiles, pressing his lips against Eliott's, smiling against his lips, “I'm sure it's something so far from little. Come on, let me out!”

He whines and pushes Eliott back and he finally opens the door completely. The very yellow hue is the first thing he notices, unable to unseen it because everything is so warm and yellow it feels like they're inside one of those pompous movies Eliott loves so much.

Lucas walks down the hall and notices the fairy lights all wrapped around their side lamps on the living room, going over their books on the shelf on top of their fireplace that doesn't work well, over their couch and wrapping every bowl on their island, a bunch of japanese food Eliott must have ordered for them. There are some candles on the coffee table and on the island and kitchen counter too.

It's not a special date, Lucas confirmed that over and over again on his calendar while he was waiting and it makes all of this extra special. Eliott didn't have to do all of this. The curtains are closed and there's a bouquet on the couch with a card in between the flowers.

“I was thinking about the days that I spent in the flat with you and I briefly remembered that you bought me flowers once and I never returned the favor or thanked you for those, so…”

“You didn't have to…” Lucas whispers as he feels Eliott hugging him from behind, his chin on Lucas’ shoulder.

“I wanted to. Thank you, my love, for the flowers. Sorry for being an asshole.”

“You're lucky you're an asshole and a cutie in the same ratio.” Lucas smiles and Eliott kisses his cheek over and over again.

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky us.” Lucas moves his head to the side so he can see Eliott better, “Thank you for tonight.”

“I hope you're hungry. Hopefully we can watch a movie after dinner.” Eliott lifts his eyebrows and Lucas imitates him, nodding his head while brushing their lips together again.

“We can definitely watch a movie after dinner.”

#skam france #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #elu #elu fic #skamfr

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maggielindemanns · 4 years ago

Text

all mixed up - an elu social media au

summary: it’s simple really - eliott meets a guy at the bar, that guy gives him a fake number, and that fake number just so happens to belong to lucas. the rest is history.

[EPILOGUE PART THREE]

[EPILOGUE PT 2 || BONUS]

taglist: @that-one-meh @a-french-disaster @fallout-of-my-chair @menamesniall @iamshannonmcfarland @yesyoutubeisruiningmylife @yackgrace @moschinobra @xomywonderwallox @jacwena @awake-dreamer18 @noritagrace @lost-inside-fantasy @myverybigmoodboard @ariavds @ididntgowithgrace @laurenkmyers @sunshineyou27 @nanidice @orangefizz4 @blanxkey @bodizzy @q-branchminion-nr43 @nova-on-standbi @boysrunaway @anothergayhpblog @mlhalbertt @valenschmidt @skamchokehold @mostlysh1tposting @lucassdemaury @oceanicinception @yellowballoon @fallinglikeafoolforyou @bluronyourradar @painfully-oblivious @alwayskissmeatnight @katzen-kinder @howlingsaturn @luxandobscurus @anotherplaceintheuniverse @aly-kazam @quint-cssential @rynnsama @vlm2002 @grey-mist-exist

[note: putting it up here w everything else bc this one is long so it’ll be under the cut and i am SORRY . this took so long i was not at my home and i have one lil baby bonus thing i wanna post (later), but i just wanna say another thank you to all of you, like...just finishing out the writing process of this universe today really put me through Emotions LMFAO but i really do just wanna thank you guys one last time for every single thing, the support and love i’ve gotten with this au has been nothing short of incredible and heart warming and honestly my whole world like cannot even express how much this au and you all mean to me so . sadly, here i am to do this 🥺 without further ado, the final part for amu, epilogue part 3 🥺💛]

JAN 11TH, 12:32 AM

Eliott couldn’t sleep. It was officially anniversary day, their six month anniversary, and rather than sleeping peacefully in Lucas’ arms, he was watching the slow and steady rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. Hair was falling onto his forehead and his eyelashes were casting a shadow onto his cheekbones, thanks to the soft white light of the streetlights peeking through the curtains. To Eliott, he looked nothing short of ethereal, but he always thought that about Lucas.

His thoughts were the very reason why he couldn’t sleep, however. School was starting up in a matter of days, graduation was around the corner, and he was yet to hear back from any internships he applied to last week while at his parents’ house with Lucas. The pressures of life to come were hitting him so very hard, and the timing was just not good.

“Why do you think so loud?” Lucas mumbled in that usual sleepy voice, the one that made Eliott want to hold him forever and never let him go. He opened his eyes when Eliott took too long to give an answer, and that made Eliott smile.

“Why do you listen so hard?” he countered, and Lucas tsked at him, starting to smile back.

“You’re an ass.” He reached over and touched Eliott’s face then, thumbing over his cheekbone and his lips. “Pretty though. What’s on your mind, Lartigue?”

“Too much.”

“Talk to me. I got time.”

“Remember all those internships I applied to with you?” he asked. Lucas nodded. “Nothing back so far. Graduation is in a matter of months. My senior year is going to end and I’m probably going to be stuck at the video club if no one gets back to me. I don’t want to stock DVDs and check things in and out forever, I wanna create and live life as a true starving artist.”

“Eli,” he sighed, “you will get something, don’t stress.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then...you’ll keep trying ‘til you do. And I’ll be with you every step of the way. Even if it takes years and we end up having to use twisty ties as wedding rings and live in your tiny college apartment forever, I’ll still support you and your dream. You deserve it, so.”

Eliott just smiled at him, feeling overwhelmed with the amount of love for the boy laying beside him. Lucas always seemed to know what to say to make him feel better and put a halt to the quick spiraling of his thoughts. His gaze was unwavering and his eyes were bright as he scooted closer to Eliott until they were basically nose to nose.

“I love you,” was all Eliott could think to say. Lucas’ face softened and he kissed Eliott’s nose, feeling like ‘I love you’ back wasn’t sufficient for what he felt for Eliott. Of course, six months didn’t seem like a long time, but to Lucas, it felt like a lifetime of loving Eliott. Of learning everything about him, including what he needs to hear in times like this. And he really did love him more than anything.

“I love you too. More than you know, Demaury. Let’s sleep, yeah?” Eliott nodded at that and Lucas turned over, Eliott snuggling close and pressing a kiss to Lucas’ shoulder.

“Twisty ties,” Eliott whispered, and Lucas simply closed his eyes.

“Shut up.”

•••••

JAN 11TH, 11:54 PM

“This tastes like fizzy glitter water, Eliott,” Lucas laughed, and Eliott laughed even harder, almost spilling his own glass of cheap champagne. They decided to save the drinks for home after spending the night out at dinner so they could come back to Eliott’s together, the rest of their night spent drunk on cheap champagne and wrapped up in each other.

“It is champagne, stop. Glittery because it’s...the shimmers of our love in it.”

“What are you even saying right now?” Lucas asked him, and he shrugged, downing the rest of his glass and pouring another.

“I don’t know, baby. But I do know this - I love you so fucking much, happy six months.”

“À ce soir,” Lucas said, smiling and holding up his glass. Eliott clinked his glass against Lucas’ and they sipped, smiling at each other like goons. Lucas felt warm and happier than ever honestly. Warm, happy, and so very in love.

About an hour after that, it was almost midnight. Lucas felt thoroughly blissed out after being loved on like he just was, still feeling phantom sensations on his hips, thighs, and face where Eliott grabbed on him the most. He shut his eyes for a second, feeling like he still was catching his breath, and he could feel Eliott staring at him without even looking to confirm.

“Why are you staring at me?” Lucas mumbled, and Eliott laughed, shifting next to him and putting his finger on what most likely was some kind of bruise starting to form along his jaw. The thought combined with his touch sent a chill down his spine.

“Because you’re beautiful.”

“You’re corny, be quiet now.”

Eliott chuckled as he shifted some more beside him, laying on his back, and they did indeed sit in a comfortable silence for a bit before either of them said anything.

“Let’s do this forever, Lu,” Eliott spoke quietly. “Maybe you should just move in with me, like...for real.”

Lucas opened his eyes at that, turning his head to find Eliott looking up at his ceiling, blinking slow. He searched his face for any sign of it being a joke at all or if he was going to continue saying anything else, but he didn’t.

“I’ll consider it. Okay?” Eliott started grinning at that and gave him a short nod.

“Okay.”

••••••

JAN 18TH, 6:52 AM

To say Eliott was nervous about today was an understatement. He didn’t have class for another three hours, and yet he couldn’t get himself to go back to sleep now that he was up. He decided to quietly and carefully slip away from Lucas, who was with him more often than not these days, and go take a long shower to just...think.

He’d been standing in the shower for quite some time, how long exactly he wasn’t sure. The plan was to stand here until it got cold or something and try to not look like he’s thinking about everything under the sun before he went back to Lucas in his room.

When he did make it back to his room, a towel around his waist, he saw that Lucas was actually gone. His side of the bed was made up and the only trace that he was even here was the fact that his drawer was slightly open and a t-shirt was half pulled out of it. That, and the note left on the bed, and Eliott grabbed for it as soon as he noticed it, beginning to read.

eli,

i had class at 9:05 and it’s day one, so i didn’t wanna be late. i’m sorry to just leave this note :( i love you though. i know the last few days have been a little hard for you, but take it easy today, okay? you’re brilliant and whatever needs to get done will get done. i know it. don’t stress. make that your mantra or something.

i made toast and eggs, both in the kitchen. eggs might be cold by the time you read this, but still better than the ‘UOD’ you made me way back when.

i love you, and good luck today. <3

-L

p.s. don't go looking for your brown jacket i stole it bc it’s cold <3

Eliott first looked to his closet, seeing that it was indeed open and a hanger was peeking out, as if he ripped the jacket off of it in his rush to go. The thought made Eliott smile, and he grabbed his phone before making his way to the kitchen to eat, his only thoughts now being how much he loved this boy and always would.

•••••••

JUNE 21ST, 4:33 PM

“Just need a height on Demaury and then we’re done,” Sof told them, filling in for Eliott’s wingspan on the cap and gown sheet.

Lucas had been going around him with a tape measure for the last 45 minutes, debating with Sof and Yann about numbers not sounding right. When Sofiane kept asking ‘well, whose best friend is this?’, Lucas always countered with ‘whose boyfriend is this?’ as if that made him more correct than anyone, and Eliott couldn’t help but smile. In the end, they got it done though, and Eliott was now holding the top of the tape measure for Lucas while he brought it to the floor, looking up at him once he got a measurement.

“What?” Eliott asked. “I was 181 centimeters last time I did this, did I shrink?”

“Nope. 183. A whole two centimeters taller.” Lucas stood back up and booped him on the nose, making him roll his eyes.

“Aw, he’s growing so big and strong, how cute,” Yann teased, and Sofiane laughed, shoving his shoulder and telling him to stop. Lucas wound the tape measure back up with the push of a button then, throwing it at Yann after.

“Can’t believe you losers are graduating next month,” Yann mentioned casually. Sofiane and Eliott looked at each other, seeming a bit sad about the idea, and Lucas gave Yann a look that screamed ‘fix it, now’. “But, you know, you guys will be great adults, obviously. You’re great,” he added hesitantly, “I’ll miss you guys.”

“Yann, just stop talking now,” Lucas sighed, making Sofiane laugh. Eliott just smiled, hugging Lucas from behind and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll miss you too, Yann-y boy,” Sofiane teased, pinching his cheek. Yann pushed his hand away, mumbling about hating that Sof called him that.

“Me too,” Eliott agreed before looking at Lucas. “I’d say you too, but I see you all the time.”

“And that won’t change.”

“Ew, please don’t be gross in front of us,” Sofiane groaned, and Eliott started kissing his cheek repeatedly just to be annoying, making Lucas laugh as he accepted the love.

Lucas didn’t say it, but he was going to miss all of this too. And he couldn’t believe he only had not even a month left of this either.

••••••

•••••••

JULY 11TH, 8:46 PM

“Yours looks better than mine,” Lucas pouted, and Eliott looked at him unamused.

“Lucas, this is my degree.”

Lucas flicked paint off his paintbrush at him and Eliott flinched just a little, starting to laugh. They decided to spend the night in for their anniversary, following a Bob Ross tutorial on some of Eliott’s unused canvases together. Some candles were still burning from their candlelit Chinese takeout dinner they shared, and they were using Eliott’s TV to play the tutorial on. It was all fun and games until Lucas looked over and saw that Eliott’s was like a perfect replica of what was onscreen.

“This is my degree,” Lucas mocked, and Eliott gave him a look before pausing the video. Lucas started laughing and leaned over to press a kiss to his bare shoulder. He then looked at him, not saying anything.

“What now?” Eliott asked, feigning exasperation. Lucas dropped his paintbrush into their jar of water and turned to face him, hugging his knees to his chest. “Uh oh, am I in trouble?”

“Why would you be in trouble, no. I just. I considered.”

“Marriage or the moving thing?” Eliott teased, and Lucas smacked his arm gently.

“The moving thing, idiot. You’re not funny.”

“What’s the verdict, Lallemant?”

“I...guess you can call me your roommate. I’ll move in. The answer’s yes.”

Eliott got visibly excited and immediately got up in lieu of giving an actual response, walking away to his room, and Lucas was beyond confused.

“Eli?” he called out, “where are you going? This is the part where you shower me with kisses and you tell me we’re gonna bang on every surface to celebrate!”

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“That was a joke, Eliott.”

He came running back in and sat in front of Lucas once again, putting a small, maroon box in his hands. A spike of panic rose in Lucas, feeling like he knew what this was.

“Eliott, I love you, but I don’t know if I’m ready to be a husband yet…” he told him, his voice gentle. Eliott started laughing right in his face, and Lucas’ whole demeanor changed. “Fuck you, why are you laughing?”

“No, it’s not funny, baby, I’m sorry—“

“It’s not funny, yet you’re laughing at me.”

“No! Lucas, just. Open it, please.”

Lucas was giving him a dirty look as he opened the box, and when he saw what it was, his face softened again.

“This is...this is for here, isn’t it?”

“This is a key for here, yeah. I was gonna bring it up to you later and give it to you as your gift, but you just kind of beat me to it so I’m giving it to you now. If you want a custom one, I’ll get it for you if you hate it, but I just want you to have keys for what is now ours,” Eliott rambled. “Well, it’s always felt like ours to me, but—“

“Eliott,” Lucas interrupted, looking at him. Eliott took a deep breath and Lucas scooted closer to Eliott, kissing him just once before looking in his eyes. “I love you. It’s perfect, everything. Especially you. Thank you.”

“And I love you.”

•••••••

#skam france #elu #elu social media au #elu fic #elu au #lucas x eliott #my fic #skamfr #skamfr fic #skamfrfic #amu #i never post at this time but i needed this out into the universe asap LMAO

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moonb-eam · 5 years ago

Text

june 25th

a ficlet for eliott’s birthday ☀️

Eliott is half-awake.

He’s in the sweetest liminal space between dream and reality, when the warm sheets tangled between his legs feel like the tendrils of clouds, the mattress beneath him a gently undulating sea. He’s coming out of a dream that has already passed into memory, too lazy to hold onto it, too content to do anything but let the comforting feeling of it seep into his heart.

A beam of light passes over his eye and his blinks, squinting at the bedroom window, where just beyond its glass waits another blooming morning in June.

He rolls onto his side, reaching for a warm body and when his fingers land on cool sheets he frowns, and rolls to the other side, reaching for his phone.

His screen is flooded with notifications and he blinks again, brow furrowing until he begins to read, then he grins. Laughs. In the midst of everything that had been going on - finishing his film, Lucas writing the bac - he had honestly forgotten that this day was coming. He hadn’t realized how close to the end of June they were.

The oldest text is from Idriss, sent at exactly midnight the night before. All it says is, birth.

Then there’s one from his mom, a happy birthday message buried in dozens of flower emojis.

One from his dad, with an attached photo of him as a toddler, sitting on his dad’s shoulders.

A text from Sofiane, with a video attached of two baby raccoons because, I know you’re obsessed with these.

There’s texts from every member of the grew, with varying amounts of exclamation points and emojis. There’s even an Instagram message from a girl in his class he’s spoken to a few times, and opening his Instagram app brings along another wave of notifications, old and new photos being shared across stories.

It’s an overwhelming amount of affection for Eliott, who sometimes feels like nothing more than a shadow at the fringes of the world itself, destined to be an outsider, as thin and fleeting as smoke. He slowly sits up, the sheets pooling at his waist, his eyes fixed to his phone. He scrolls through his mentions, snorting when he sees a particularly embarrassing photo from his first year of lycée that Sofiane shared, and smiling softly when he comes across a photo Alexia tagged him in, of himself and the girls piled onto a couch together.

He stares down at the outpouring of love from his friends and his family, the gentlest and simplest we’re so happy you’re here, and he feels beautifully solid, as real as the sun, warm and constant and alive.

He’s still smiling, misty-eyed, when the bedroom door opens, and someone clears their throat.

“Joyeux an-oh fucking shit, fuck.”

There’s a thud, and Eliott turns on the bed, eyes wide to see Lucas, wearing boxers and one of Eliott’s shirts, stumbling on a pair of sneakers by the door and balancing a plate on one hand. Eliott can’t quite see what’s on the plate, but there’s no mistaking the single lit candle sticking out from its surface.

Lucas smacks his elbow off of the doorframe and he swears again, the plate teetering dangerously close towards the floor. Eliott watches the entire thing with his mouth open, his hands reaching out as though he could somehow make it to Lucas in time from the other side of the room.

But Lucas manages to right himself, the plate finding balance between his hands, and Eliott can’t help but let out a laugh from the look of palpable relief on his face.

Lucas scowls at him. “Shut up,” he whispers, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. Eliott smothers another laugh into his hand. He wants to kiss him there, the soft curves where colour starts and ends.

Lucas clears his throat again, with great gavitas, and rolls his shoulders back.

“Joyeux anniversaire,” he starts to sing, voice low and soft, taking a careful step forward, his eyes rapidly moving between where his feet are going next and the plate, which Eliott can now see is holding a small, round cake.

“Joyeux anniversaire,” Lucas continues, kicking a sock out of the way with one foot. Eliott couldn’t stop smiling if he tried.

“Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour.” Lucas glances up at him then, grinning widely, eyes bright and curved at the corners, and Eliott’s heart dances under his ribs. “Joyeux anniversaire,” Lucas finishes, drawing out the last word with a flourish, and Eliott giggles, pressing his hands to his cheeks.

Lucas lowers the plate towards him. “Make a wish, baby,” he says softly, and Eliott closes his eyes, thinks, just like this, always, and he blows out the candle.

The cake is covered in a thick, neat layer of cream-coloured icing, but what makes Eliott gasp in delight are the large, lopsided sunflowers that have been piped onto the surface.

“How did you do this?” Eliott asks, already reaching for his phone so he can take a picture of the cake to show it off on Instagram.

Lucas huffs, tilting his nose up imperiously. “I’m very talented, you know.”

Eliott takes three different pictures of the cake, and wraps an arm around Lucas’ neck so he can pull him close, kiss the pink points of his cheeks. “I know you are,” he murmurs, and then he kisses Lucas’ lips, humming when he tastes something sugary sweet. “What did you-?”

“Had to make sure the icing was good.”

“Of course.”

“That’s what the professionals do.”

“Absolutely.”

They both smile into another kiss, Lucas’ head tilting back when Eliott leans forward to deepen it, laughing when Eliott groans, licking into his mouth.

“Eliott, your cake.”

“Mhm, but you’re so much sweeter.”

Lucas pushes his face away with a flat palm, ignoring it when Eliott pouts. “Come on.” He pulls two forks seemingly out of nowhere, offering one to Eliott with a raised eyebrow. “What other day of the year is it acceptable to have cake for breakfast?”

It’s a good point.

The cake is delicious, sweet and light and most delightfully, coloured bright yellow on the inside. Lucas disappears to the kitchen and returns with two coffee cups, setting them down on the bedside table and grinning when he sees Eliott take another big bite.

“This is amazing,” Eliott says with a dreamy sigh. He smacks a kiss to Lucas’ cheek and leaves behind a smear of icing. “You’re amazing. When did you find the time to make this?”

“I got up early,” Lucas says, as though it’s the simplest thing in the world.

But it isn’t. It really, really isn’t.

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” Eliott swipes his finger through the corner of a sunflower, yellow and brown catching on his knuckle.

He glances up, and Lucas is already staring at him, his face melting into something quiet and soft that makes Eliott smile. He shifts closer on the mattress, planting a hand on Eliott’s thigh and leaning into him, nudging their foreheads together.

“You deserve it.” He says, and Eliott’s smile falls, slightly, a sudden thickness in his throat. Lucas gently kisses the highest point of his cheekbone. “Happy birthday, sunshine.” Another kiss to the shell of his ear. “I love you.”

Eliott buries his face in the space between Lucas’ neck and shoulder and he stays there, breathing him in, feeling their hearts beat together. He tries to collect every detail he can about the moment, every sound, every sensation, and he captures them, folding them greedily into his chest. He wants to always be able to remember this exact moment with perfect clarity: when he sat on his bed with the love of his life, ate birthday cake, and felt as loved as sunlight.

“Thank you,” he whispers into Lucas’ neck, and it falls short to convey even half of what he’s feeling. “I love you so much,” he tries, and that feels better.

The cake is clumsily deposited on the floor, forks clattering against porcelain, crumbs getting lost in the sheets, and Lucas turns back towards Eliott with a grin, wrapping his arms around his neck and sliding into his lap.

“So,” he begins, and Eliott guides him, holding onto Lucas’ thighs and smoothing his thumbs over his skin, fingertips catching on the edge of his boxers, “birthday boy.” He says it with a touch of suggestion that makes Eliott laugh, his hands tightening their hold on his hips. “What would you like to do today?” He frees one hand to poke Eliott on the nose. “We’re still having dinner with your parents tonight, but from now until then,” he leans back on Eliott’s lap, spreading his arms wide, the light catching on the joint of his elbow, the curve of his shoulder peeking out from where Eliott’s shirt gapes open, “the day is entirely yours.”

Eliott hums, tilting his head to the side.

“We could go to the botanical gardens,” Lucas suggests. He wobbles on Eliott’s lap and giggles, gripping onto his shoulders to right himself. “We could…” He taps his fingers against Eliott’s collarbones. “We could walk to the park and bring the rest of the cake with us. We could go bookstore-hopping.” Eliott grins at that, remembering when he mentioned it to Lucas weeks ago as something he always wanted to spend an entire day doing, but never had the time. “We could go to the cinema for a double feature. We could go exploring at La Petite Ceinture. We could look through the old maps at the library. We could get sushi. We could go to the river and watch the boats go by.”

Possibilities and possibilities. All things that are normal, even mundane, but wondrous in the simple realization that somehow, this entire time, Lucas has been collecting a list of Eliott’s favourite things to do. And now, he wants to do all of them. Together.

“Yes,” Eliott says, and Lucas laughs, his nose scrunching up.

“Yes to what? I said like, six things.”

“Yes to all of it.” Eliott slides his hands around Lucas’ lower back, tugging him up on his lap. “I want to do everything with you.” He aches up so he can kiss the hollow of Lucas’ throat.

“Okay,” he says softly, gasping when Eliott kisses his collarbone, nosing into the skin. “Well, then we better get started.”

“Later.” Eliott says. “We’ll go later. Right now, I just want to-” He falls back into the mattress, Lucas following him down with a huff when they land. “I want to stay here,” Eliott says, quietly, like it’s a secret. An entire world to see, and Eliott wants to live in the space between Lucas’ arms. “Just for a little bit.”

Lucas smiles, smoothing his hair off of his forehead. “Whatever you want, sunshine.”

Eliott grins, then rolls them, delighting in the sharp, echoing laugh Lucas lets out at the sudden motion.

“This,” he says, and Lucas blinks up at him, deep oceans that Eliott sinks into, pressing him into the mattress, pressing their lips together.

This. Just like this, always.

#fic tag #just a little something #might have written this while attending a zoom launch for work 😶#but i hope it's sweet little distraction and i hope y'all enjoy it!#am i seeing that spoilers have come out? yes #am i still trying to live in blissful ignorance? yes 😌#elu fic #skam fr fic #skam france fanfic #elu #happy birthday eliott!!!

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demauryss · 4 years ago

Text

murphy’s law | 1/2

anything that can go wrong will go wrong. eliott just learns it the hardest way possible.

or, kind of an expansion of hold you here my loveliest friend

alt er love advent calender, day 18

(for my dearest mtea @bluronyourradar, this is the thing which i was writing for you. i tore my heart in half while writing this hehe hope you enjoy reading this. part two coming soon i promise :-))

The thing about giving your heart to your best friend is, you never actually see it happening. You don’t see it coming. It just happens. Maybe at the speed of tar moving over the road. Maybe at the way the sunlight fades behind the darkness of the night. Maybe in the blink of an eye. But it happens.

You see, they’re always there. You find their smile punctuated by the way they look at you, and their words sweet like honey and heart as warm as a stream of water on a hot day. The fluttering of their hands over your skin and in your stomach burning like the crackling fire you’d have stood in front of, smoke from the ashes mixing with the tears in your eyes as you’d have turned away. They’re always there, so you don’t see.

(Maybe sometimes you do. Amidst fleeting glances and stopping heartbeat and sometimes, concrete as the sky and bottomless as the ground beneath your feet. You don’t.)

And it’s the best thing, those short moments where you don’t have to worry about someone else having a hold of your heart, twisting it to their desires. It’s the best thing about giving your heart to your best friend. Because you’re as blissful as you can be around them. Because you’ve always felt this welcoming warmth radiating from them which envelops your bones and makes a home for you inside itself, stopping you from stepping out of it into the unbidden cold, which is sharp and sinks itself over you.

And when your best friend gives their heart to you, you take it without any questions asked. You hold it close to the space where yours used to be. You spend your nights dancing through the grass and your days lifting the feeling slowly settling in your head, blurring your thoughts and fading every sense of reality. You hold on to their heart tighter than your own, and maybe that’s the first mistake you make.

Because then your grip on your own heart starts to loosen. Till a time comes that it completely shifts away from you. Because your brain is busy protecting your best friend’s heart and forgets the part of itself which you have given away.

And because. Because you let yourself. So there comes a time when your best friend hands your heart back to you. They hand it back, warmed and loved and wrapped in a curtain which makes it to look like it hasn’t been used before. They hand it back, a delicate bundle of fibers and beats mixing into one.

And you’ve spent so much time in cutting all the nerves and vessels tying you to that beating flesh. You’ve spent so much of yourself living without that part of you. And when you get your heart back, despite of your wishes, you don’t know what to do with it. You place it beck inside your chest, behind that cage tightening against the walls, hoping it would find its place back. But it sits there, a foreign and estranged piece of you; a displaced swing finding its equilibrium again; a stretched elastic held against its wishes to recoil.

Because you know if you let it go it would return to them in a heartbeat.

And that’s another thing about giving your heart to your best friend. The first time it happens, you don’t realize it. But the second time, when your heart literally crawls out of your chest, and walks away from you and back to your best friend. It rips your skin in the way, leaves your hands frozen, unable to stop the process, as you watch it run away from you.

And you watch, realizing that it will never be yours if you stop it now. So you watch. And you let it go.

And with it comes the realization that the thing beating inside you was never meant to stay there and hide. That even after they return your heart to you under the guise of doubts and ache, it’s ready to turn away in a second. That no matter the layers you put over it and the pain you go through to cover the fierceness with which it is beginning to tear itself from you; it won’t work. And there comes a time where you’re left to collect the pieces of your skin and the fibers your heart has left in its trail.

And that’s the worst thing about giving your heart to your best friend, you see. The realization, the feeling, the fucking knife which keeps on twisting in your chest and you keep screaming for it to stop, just stop. But the blood seeps away and the wound gets deeper and you find yourself filling it with the dust in your lungs and the shivers in your hands. But it fills your mouth with iron and your legs become studded with lead when you realize – you realize that no matter what, your heart will never be yours to keep after that.

Lucas’s mother owns a candy shop. When he hugs Eliott his hair smells of butterscotch and banana, all combined into one. It’s peculiar, but the thought fades into the back of his head when Lucas nuzzles his face into his chest, and as his hands squeeze the space above Eliott’s hips in a frantic cry of help.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, muffling a laugh behind the wild mess on Lucas’s head which needs to be toned down desperately – but Eliott isn’t complaining. “What is it this time?”

Lucas separates himself from Eliott, his lips puffed in a pout and eyes filled with a look of great disgrace as he grimaces. “Blueberry and basil! Like would you believe that?” He shudders effectively, his eyes going wide as he looks at Eliott. “It tastes terrible.”

Eliott shakes his head, “Terrible as in sriracha and peanut butter or terrible as in terrible?”

“Terrible!” Lucas throws his hands up as he starts walking into the shop. Eliott follows him. “Like how you’d expect someone's locker to smell like after months of dirty clothes accumulating there.”

Eliott shakes his head, a smile playing at his lips, “That’s oddly specific, and besides, I don’t think it’s that bad. I mean, you said the same thing about orange and tarragon and it ended up tasting bloody amazing!”

“I knew you would say that,” The small rainbow embroidered at the left side of Lucas’s olive green sweater catches Eliott’s eyes when he turns around to frown at him. Eliott has half a mind to remove the piece of lint and fraying thread from it, like they used to do before. Pieces of wool caught on Lucas’s hair, eyelash on Eliott’s cheek. Dirt smeared on Lucas’s face, and charcoal on Eliott’s fingers.

He has half a mind to fall back into the circle he barely made out of alive, and blow away the lint for it to catch something somewhere else. But he stops himself.

They don’t do it anymore.

“What makes you think so?”

Eliott’s first memory of Lucas is from the same spot Eliott’s standing on with the two jars of Ali’s homemade orange marmalade. Lucas’s eyes are a shade of an orchestral blue which he finds tainting the memory, and there’s a troubled smile blooming over his features a minute later when he hears another pair of footsteps coming closer.

“Eliott, is that you, dear? Please help me in letting this devil know he’s wrong. You’re the only one who can help me right now.”

Lucas lets out a wounded groan, his eyes widening as he whispers, “That.” Eliott smothers his laugh when Lucas starts to rush in the opposite direction to the resounding footsteps.

“I don’t work here and you never saw me.”

Ali nears into Eliott’s view just as her son disappears behind a display of colorful candies wrapped in pretty ribbons. Eliott, even when he was stumbling about his footing around Lucas, had always been awed by the intricate knots and the curves Ali has placed in the ribbons. When she approaches him, her eyes soften into a blue much like Lucas’s, but still on a different side of the spectrum.

“Lucas’s being a diva again,” she tells him, holding out a wooden spoon dipped in a questionable mixture in a purple bowl. It smells strongly of sugar and home, an exact opposite of what Lucas had so graciously – and wrongly – described. Ali holds out the mixture for him to taste, and he does so, dipping in a figure in the velvety warmth gathered on the tip of the spoon and bringing it to his mouth.

“It…actually, it tastes so good.”

He knows Lucas is hiding behind the shelves somewhere. Before, when it used to be as simple as Eliott using his fingers to do the counting on, or the stars simply dotting the sky without meaning anything, Ali would have Eliott and Lucas spending hours in her little kitchen, having them as the testers of whatever she would have made. It started out as a rush of a breeze for Eliott quickly picking up space before transforming into this pleasant routine he hasn’t departed from yet.

(Despite letting go of the person it all started out with.)

Ali’s smile brings Eliott into a cocoon of familiarity, “Tell this brainless idiot hiding here somewhere. I swear God really messed up when he gave Lucas those taste buds.” She shakes her head and Eliott laughs.

“Please stop talking about me like I’m not here,” He hears a muffled voice, one coming from directly behind him. Lucas emerges, licking around an orange colored candy which Eliott is absolutely sure isn’t meant for eating by him at all. His suspicion is confirmed when Ali gives her son a disapproving look, which he absolutely dodges when his eyes start burning brighter.

“And you please stop stealing the stuff I made which you previously rejected with those abominable taste buds of yours.” Ali bites back and Lucas turns a faux-offended face towards her. It’s familiar. It’s warm. It burns.

“I’ll have you know my taste buds are anything but that; very high in demand too. Tell her Eliott!” Eliott is more shocked on the mention of his name than the suffocating feeling the simple request brings as his lungs almost collapse on themselves. Lucas is unaware of the weight his words had on Eliott, as he struggles to keep his breathing even and heart forcibly inside his chest. There’s something very primal about this feeling – the one of tightness in his lungs and restlessness in his legs – something which takes him back to the very first time he’d seen Lucas a decade ago – right here in this candy shop with butterscotch in his smile and sugar in his hair, gripping Eliott in a saccharine tanginess bound to hold him for the rest of his life.

Lucas says something, and Ali threatens to catapult the bowl of the gooey mixture over his head. Eliott watches, silent, when Lucas shakes his head – all faux annoyed – as his mother stands rolling her eyes at her bratty son.

“Anyways,” Lucas says, looping his arm through Eliott’s at a place where a familiar burn seeps through the material of his shirt. “Since all of your attempts of stealing Eliott from me have considerably failed, can you let us go now?”

Eliott makes a sound of indignation in his throat. As if –

“As if you need any permission from me.”

Ali hasn’t even completed the sentence, and Eliott is being forcefully dragged towards the door. He’s always been amazed by the strength Lucas holds, now even more so when he finds himself just near the door between shouting a goodbye to Ali and taking his next breath.

“Hey,” Eliott starts when they’re outside. He’s resisting the pull Eliott has on him. It’s somewhere around the sun beginning to set behind the clouds. “Slow down, will you?”

Lucas looks at him, eyes narrowed as if he’s seriously judging Eliott, “Yann will have my head on a plate if we do.”

And Eliott would like to know where that we in this conversation came from. But before he does…..”And we can’t have that now?”

Lucas grins, “You know we can’t.”

Lucas Lallemant is a tide –

He’s a force which keeps on moving forward, carving shorelines and curved shapes in places Eliott finds hard to keep up with. He’s high when the moon comes, rising on his toes to offer Eliott a hit of the blunt curled in his fingers, sometimes snug between his lips. Sometimes he rushes away. Sometimes he crashes against Eliott – but then he slips out of the gaps between Eliott’s fingers, through the cracks in his skin – and settles somewhere hidden, alien, and then Eliott has to crawl – follow the trajectory he would have carved, only to find him crashing against his walls with a rhythm impossible for Eliott to match, to get hold of.

He’s a force which keeps on giving – to shores, to coasts. To the moss gathered on stone wearing with time and tide – with him. He gives – he gives till Eliott finds himself surrounded in every pore, every grain that is Lucas. He comes like this: little ripples on the surface of Eliott’s skin setting in motion

And that’s when he takes. The sand which lines the edges and the plants covering the base, tearing away their roots, dissolving them into smithereens much like Eliott’s heart in his hands and the blood in his mouth from biting his tongue too hard as it escapes; his heart among the waves melting on the floor and rising upwards, higher, faster. Till the blue of him surrounds Eliott in a lightning contrast against the warmth of his hands, resting, curling in his chest and plunging him into once deep then hallow darkness as he rises.

And when the ebb comes – Eliott drowns in it.

Idriss takes him by the lapel of his jacket onto the balcony once they’ve reached Yann’s flat.

“Hey,” he says, his voice weighted by the bass which beats under his feet. Lucas gets swarmed into the crowd, one part of it taking him, another forming a barrier for Eliott to reach him.

“How have you been?”

It doesn’t register in his brain; the grave being which holds Idriss's words together for Eliott. He hums out a non-committal response, which does little wonders to ease Idriss off of his case.

“Eliott,” the end syllable of his name catches on a sigh as it comes out of Idriss’s mouth. But he wonders. It’s his name, isn’t it? Then why does it feel so foreign when Idriss says it; like the Eliott in his name and the Eliott that he is are two completely different beings.

Outside it’s cold, but still there is a feeling of warmth – all nebulous and out of place. Eliott doesn’t know what it means, just that he isn’t used to feeling this way.

“What is it?” His voice feels hollowed, and it must have been a trick of light, but he sees Idriss flinch.

“You stood up,” his voice sounds equally grave, “again.”

Eliott has to grasp behind the lines to understand what he means. “The date,” Idriss complies, when he sees the lost look on his face.

Eliott stills for a moment. He was supposed to go on a date. But, did he want to.

“Idriss,” Eliott sighs, turning around and putting all of his weight on the railing, hoping it would swallow the thing weighing him down like mercury. “I don’t want to be set up on dates. You know that.”

Idriss doesn’t speak for a moment. But then, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself Eliott,” He lands a hand on his shoulder, “you can’t.”

Eliott stays quiet, he doesn’t know what to say. What is it he’s doing, exactly? “Forget it-,” He says, at length, “- just leave me on my own. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eliott feels it, inside him, the feling holding him getting impregnated with lead and rust when Idriss replies, “But did you – with Lucas?”

What?

Idriss reads his confusion. “Did you talk with Lucas about the reason why he didn’t want to be with you anymore?” Eliott bites his tongue and something other than physical pain fills his senses at the soft reminder of what went down mere three weeks ago.

“No,” His voice sounds scratchy, like it has taken him a great strength to get the simple word out. “Lucas doesn’t owe me an explanation. Besides, you can stop feeling for someone you thought you liked, no?”

The air is still and Eliott feels desolate from the domain outside his mind. He almost doesn’t register Idriss and his quiet, “But can you?” Almost.

There, something burns in his eyes and his chest and his throat feels awfully familiar to a thorny stem Eliott has grasped in his hands. There, outside, as leaves begin to fall and Idriss lets out a small whisper of comfort, that Eliott feels overwhelmingly small and separate from the significant part of the universe holding Lucas and the currents of waves rising from his touch.

Just tell him, Idriss says and when he leaves Eliott chants a mantra of too late too late too late in the havoc of his mind. And then Lucas comes, like a tide. He looks up at Eliott with fire behind the blue in his eyes and water raising it up instead of dimming it out. He takes away Eliott’s heart, yet again, the space in his chest feeling like a hollow piece of log left to be accumulated as moss on stagnant water and dew on drooping leaves.

And when he leaves, he robs Eliott off of his breath like a flood does one of his belongings, leaving him wrecked and floating uncertainly in the sea of the world.

He makes a mistake one day.

They are on the roof of Eliott’s building. Lucas’s hands are covered in gold which glitters in his soul and the stars above. His tongue tastes of mulberry and wine when Eliott licks in his mouth. His lips bleed soft kisses into the place Eliott’s neck meets his jaw. His eyes are dusty asteroids which circle into Eliott’s orbit with a force which knocks him of gravity and his breath when they close with laughter as Eliott finds the particularly ticklish spot on his neck.

I’ve been waiting for this, Lucas says, his voice light and warm and so, so soft. Eliott feels a cloud of smoke in his lungs. Me too.

He makes a mistake that day. He falls.

But then he’s standing next to the fire which Idriss and Yann created using plastic wrappers and leaves they found lying around. Lucas is a comet, the, his cold hands gripping Eliott’s as the fire pricks his eyes and the smoke in his lungs becomes a relic from before.

I can’t do this Eliott, He chokes, his voice heavy and sad and laden with so much hurt that Eliott has to take a step back. We’re – we will be better as friends. I’m sorry I just can’t.

So Eliott swallows around the charred cage in his chest doing little to keep his heart still. Okay, he whispers. Lucas’s red-rimmed eyes curving into a sad, watery smile burn like a star in Eliott’s gut.

He makes a mistake one day. He doesn’t stop falling.

November comes, and Eliott finds himself shifting between cold winds ruffling his hair and tinging his cheeks with a cold he feels in his bones. It takes him skipping rocks among dirt and catching falling leaves in the palm of his hand. It takes him to Lucas, nestled between the shelves in his mother’s shop, eyes wide and engulfing warmth as sugar and syrup drips from his mouth and stains Eliott’s shirt in a stubborn red.

Eliott sees Lucas, sees him coming for his heart, and the pang which rises inside his chest feels sound in the void which grows around him. It becomes foreign, the security the pain brings him. But he drowns in the cold warmth encompassing him when Lucas smiles and asks him about another constellation, or when he brings Eliott’s coffee from the shop on the curb – when they talk, and their once, five month relationship becomes a fleeting whisper; a puddle after rain gone when the sun came up.

They don’t mention it, and neither their friends. Somewhere between that, Idriss takes the hint and stops trying to get Eliott to go on dates. His heart grows accustomed to having Lucas’s hold over it, and the thorns growing in his throat shrivel. They don’t fall like Eliott thought they would, and sometimes it happens that Eliott feels them digging into his windpipe, swallowing his voice when he sees Lucas from across the room. Or when his eyes glisten like gold and honey all combined into one.

He keeps taking Eliott apart, piece by piece, but Eliott grows familiar to the feeling making a home inside him. And when Lucas holds his hand and points to a falling star much like Eliott looking for a place in the universe, it doesn’t hurt.

Except when it does.

There’s a hole in his jacket.

Eliott finds it the noon he’s inside the video store he worked at. He must have gotten it when he’s jacket got stuck in his neighbor’s fence, and in his haste, he must have pulled it, hard.

Lucas finds it funny for whatever reason when Eliott delivers him the news with sadness. His laugh rings through the speaker of Eliott’s phone. “You and that jacket, I swear.”

“It’s my favorite,” Eliott says, hoping his tone would convey his feelings to Lucas, “It’s been with me through thick and thin.”

“Yeah I know,” Lucas sounds solemn, “We’ll make it right,” Eliott believes him.

“But listen,” Lucas pauses, then begins again, “the reason I called you – I wanted to ask you something.”

Eliott holds on the phone, “Yes?”

“Sarah let me off with two passes for this art exhibition tonight. I wanted to know if you – if you’d go with me?”

Eliott’s chest gives a resounding ache which travels like water through his body, chilling his fingertips so much he can barely feel the phone held in them. The thing is – they don’t do this anymore; this just Lucas and him alone thing. He hasn’t done anything like this in such a long time that he forgot what being with Lucas – just Lucas – is like.

And he can't wait to remember. So. “Yeah,” he breathes out, “of course I’ll go.” With you.

“Perfect,” Lucas’s voice hold quiet happiness, something Eliott is sure is so fragile he’d break it if he takes another breath.

So he holds it, deep inside his lungs when Lucas says, “I’ll be at the store at 6:30. We’ll walk together.”

And he holds in when he says goodbye, a promise tethering on the edge of something so strange yet so comforting at the same time. His lungs burn, and his chest caves in.

But Eliott gets to work.

Evening drags November to a cold, scruffy end. He can’t feel his hands when he accounts the last of the sales into the computer. It hits close to six when he finishes, and decides to spend the rest of the time till Lucas’s arrival sorting out the DVDs left on the counter.

It’s between that, one moment picking up the assortment and the other spent looking over his phone lying on the side as it lights up with a notification, that there’s the sound of someone closing the door behind them.

Eliott whips around, heart in his throat at the prospect of seeing Lucas, but the person standing in front of him takes him by surprise.

“Hi Eliott.”

Lucille’s smile is warmer; her hair is shorter, blonder. Eliott takes a hard minute to reply.

Lucille,” He’s sure his tone doesn’t do justice to the feeling she brings inside him. It’s been long – a long time since he last saw her. And that too ended on partial good terms.

But still he tries his best to smile.

“How have you been?” He asks, awkwardly placing the DVDs from where he picked them up. Lucille shrugs her shoulder, and a small laugh leaves her lips.

“Good, I’m good.” She says. Eliott nods, then, and tries to shake off the uncomfortable tension settling around him and over his shoulders. Lucille comes to his rescue, thankfully.

She points to the array of movies behind him, craning her neck to the side as she speaks, “I – I needed a recommendation, actually.”

Huh. “The movies. I – I kinda need one for uhm- this date night. My girlfriend- uh, Sophie is into screenwriting and stuff, so I want to do something to impress her.”

Eliott turns his neck sideways, “And I’m the only one you can come to for that?”

Lucille smiles sheepishly, “You know you are.”

He laughs, bright, and turns to sift through the movies he pretty much knows her girlfriend will surely appreciate. He’s always loved doing this, rec-ing stuff when asked – whether it be movies or artists or funny enough, dubstep artists to listen to.

(The credit for the last one goes mainly to Lucas, and Eliott feels proud to share that at least he’s helped him get into the kind of music he himself loves. Even when the insults Lucas throws after listening to the music are worth keeping in a jar and remembering for later.)

Lucille takes the movies he picks out.

“How are you and Lucas?”

Her tone carries an infinite amount of casualness which Eliott is sure she isn’t faking. But it makes him still – you and Lucas in a sentence together. They don’t go like that. Never have.

“We uh – we’re not together anymore.” He says, voice low and taut as he rings her up. “Uh- yeah. We broke up.”

Lucille is silent. Then, “Oh. I’m sorry.”

He stays silent. When he’s done with her items, she takes it from him without a word. I’m sorry. It’s funny how many times he’s heard that.

“Um- Thank you,” She’s quiet, soft. Eliott smiles, as terse as that may be. “I’m happy to see you, Eliott.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m happy too.” He admits, because he is. Because she’s familiar. Because he knows her.

Lucille smiles, as she clutches the items to her chest, “If – If you’re free some time, I’d like for you to Sophie. She uh - knows about us, and I’m sure you both will like each other.”

“You’re sure?” He teases, and she slaps him lightly on his arm; familiar. Rolling her eyes, she bites back, “Yeah, idiot.” Eliott laughs; it’s warm.

“I’d love to meet her,” is what he settles on, and it’s what which has Lucille brightening up further. “Great,” she says, and leaves Eliott not before rising up on her toes and giving him a half-awkward, full warm hug which Eliott gladly accepts.

When she leaves, it becomes a game of watching the hands on the clock move. It’s fifteen minutes over the time Lucas and him and decided. But still Eliott sees no sign of him. He’s worried. There’s no text or call from him either, and Eliott knows he could do so too, but it doesn’t guarantee him not sounding desperate.

Five minutes to seven and he gives up, closing the store and walking out into the clear night sky. He spots a couple of uncluttered, adrift stars he doesn’t know yet. Cold air nips at his skin, eyes search for the sign of the familiar boy walking towards him. But he finds nothing.

He sighs, then, and starts walking in the direction of his apartment. Maybe something came up. Maybe Lucas is okay. Maybe he forgot. Maybe maybe maybe.

It’s then that the phone in his holed jacket rings, bringing him back to the now. He hustles to take it out, and as Lucas’s name blinds his eyes, his heart returns with a hopeful tingle in his chest.

His breath fogs in the dark as he whispers, “Hello?”

“Eliott,” Lucas’s voice feels distant, like they’re the same poles of a magnet and the field between them is just pushing them away.

“Lucas, are you alright?” It hurts, that it’s the first thing which comes to his mind. That something happened to Lucas – with Lucas, and he wasn’t able to make it to him. He hates it. He hates it.

“Yeah uh – I got held up. I’m sorry I couldn’t- can’t make it. I just – I didn’t – couldn’t find time to call you sooner. I’m so sorry I -.”

Eliott cuts Lucas off, “It’s alright,” his heart beats on the floor. His legs remain frozen on the sidewalk. It’s not Lucas’s fault if he found something more important than Eliott. He doesn’t owe him anything, anyway.

Eliott doesn’t hear the rest which follows. There’s something – someone on the phone behind Lucas, someone who calls Lucas – “You’re coming back Lu?” Eliott hears the voice.

Then he hears Lucas, loud and clear, “Yeah, baby, you go ahead. I’ll be with you in a second.”

Baby. Lucas only ever called Eliott that. He feels something twist inside him as his lungs burn with a ferocity which leaves him aching all over. His fingers go numb, and his feet drag painfully on the gravel.

Lucas seems to be talking, and Eliott only catches the end through the static in his head.

“I gotta go. But I – I promise I’ll make it up to you, Eli. Okay?”

Eliott purses his lips, doesn’t fight his hear combusting as a layer of heavy rust settles over it, preventing it from moving back to Lucas as he lies motionless there, on the concrete, forging stars from its dying matter.

Okay. Eliott whispers when Lucas hangs up. Then he releases his breath and starts walking.

#skam france #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #elu fic #skam france fic #alteradventcalendar #penned #tuseralex #userdyamond #tusersunflower #tuserlivs #tusercaro

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