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wangxiandecoded · 4 years ago

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Episode 12

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(Spoilers for the whole show ahead!)

Even when Wen Chao asks for their swords, Wei Ying is trying desperately to make Lan Zhan look him in the eye to telepathically understand what his soulmate is feeling. Lan Zhan hates it but he has no choice but to cooperate with the enemy. He has withdrawn to himself after the multiple losses he’s faced and being a puppet at the hands of the Wens must be rattling him some more. Even if he wanted to tell Wei Ying everything that’s on his mind, he wouldn’t have been able to find the words to.

Lucky for him, Wei Ying has an inkling that his Lan Zhan has faced an inexplicable disaster and that’s why he’s behaving this way with him. He knows it doesn’t mean he should stop reaching out. His concern for him leads him to repeatedly seek Lan Zhan’s face, looking for anything that might suggest how he can alleviate his plight.

One of the perks of having Wei Wuxian as your boyfriend is that he was born ready to make a clown out of the most dastardly villains.

Wei Ying Says “Fuck You” In The Name Of Love

Wei Ying has a brilliant idea to talk to Lan Zhan or at least let him know he is not alone.

There is something powerfully impressive and quietly romantic about Wei Ying insulting the Wen clan by reciting the Lan clan’s rules to Wen Chao’s face, on the heels of the former decimating and annexing the latter. Of course Wei Ying is the first one in a room to stand up to a bully and protect the others but Wei Ying knows Lan Zhan’s hands are tied right now, even if he doesn’t know what exactly happened. But that’s okay, because Wei Ying will defend his honor and become Lan Zhan’s hands, his mouth, his everything that delivers the unmistakable “fuck you” on behalf of his family. And he does it in an act of rebellion that originates in the sanctum of love. Understandably, Lan Zhan falls more in love with him.

Wei Ying’s Plan Misfires

His happiness is short-lived, but honestly who could predict his plan would go like this?

We see that Lan Zhan does want to confide in his soulmate the pain and pressure he’s been dealing with alone the whole time, but it’s too dangerous for them to talk right now.

Wen Chao carries the same kind of smugness as a prick who’s been waiting to out a gay couple. I mean how awful do you have to be to physically abuse Wangxian for.. being Wangxian? Blatant homophobia right there.

Wei Ying has had enough of Wen Chao’s bullshit and is unafraid to clap back with his signature cheekiness.

When Wei Ying is captured, Lan Zhan blocks the whip coming his way and ends up taking a hit to his injured leg. Wei Ying then wants Wen Chao to come for him instead of Lan Zhan, and we can honestly expect nothing less from Wangxian at this point.

Lan Zhan conquers his silent grieving and mute seething to stand in defiance against Wen Chao. It is worth mentioning that his patience and tolerance can even bear the brunt of a fallen world, but cease to exist the second someone mistreats Wei Ying before his eyes. You know what they say about love being a vicious motivator. His protective stance here screams..

Lan Zhan Holds On To Wei Ying For A Short Span Of Eternity

Wen Chao sure is very curious about the nature of their relationship and unable to fathom what Wei Ying could possibly want with Lan Zhan. He’s already safe and sound with him in Qishan, so if they’re not talking about the Yin Iron, what the hell is it? This inquisition is a bit ridiculous, as if the writer specifically gave him these lines to point out to the audience that Wangxian are being soulmates in love once again.

What Lan Zhan does not say, he makes up for with the million times he reaches for Wei Ying instinctively; spontaneous skinship is one of the ways through which his love for Wei Ying finds expression. It is phenomenal that He Who Does Not Touch People firmly holds on to his lover through this whole monologue that follows.

There are few things in the world that can inspire Lan Zhan’s wrath and protection right now, and Wei Ying commands both so effortlessly. Defeated as he is, for Wei Ying, Lan Zhan is always a man of action. And this action particularly proves his willingness to send packing to hell whoever dares to come close to his lover. I wonder what would’ve happened if Wei Ying hadn’t gone to the dungeon on his own volition.

Wangxian Are Once Again Ready To Risk It All For Each Other

It would’ve been nice to see them get their alone time, but what’s one more complication on the path of true love, right?

If you thought about it, Wangxian’s universe truly conspires to bring them together sometimes. Wen Ning tells Wei Ying everything Lan Zhan wasn’t able to, and Wen Qing does everything in her power to ensure they’re both out of harm’s way. Even when our heroes aren’t able to spend time together, they are being assisted by outside forces that work to ensure their love has a future. There are always people left in the world who are rooting for Wangxian because they’re the good gays guys!

We are well aware of how deeply and madly Wei Ying loves Lan Zhan, but it is startling all the same that even when he is in physical agony, what infuriates him to the point of madness is the news of Lan Zhan being hurt and his home being burnt down. Wei Ying is also more than willing to endure his pain a while longer if it means Lan Zhan has a shot at getting better.

Wangxian at any given point of time are ready to sacrifice themselves for the other and wage a war against the entire world for wronging the love of their life. That’s what makes these soulmates more unique than most, if not all lovers in fiction. Throughout the story, their romance is subjected to a billion tests and every choice they make is bound to make the viewers cry and highlight the unfairness of the impossible stakes they go through to be with each other. This is no ordinary romance, and that’s why it is all the more fantastic they are able to survive these unthinkable odds and come out shining in the end.

Lan Zhan’s concern and affection for Wei Ying is so open that it bleeds all over our screens. It’s like he looks at the rest of the world with aloof objectivity but the minute his lover comes into his sight, his eyes can bloom only warmth and emotion. Even the vision that touches Wei Ying from afar should be gentle and reverent, fit for holding in sight something precious beyond measure. This can be said about the both of them.

It is when NHS mentions their halcyon days at Cloud Recesses that we realize how their lives have changed irreversibly. Both Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are visibly sadder, like they’re wishing to return to simpler times when courting Lan Zhan was the biggest problem in Wei Ying’s life and fighting his feelings for Wei Ying was Lan Zhan’s. They’ve grown closer since then but the impediments on their road have also grown bigger.

Wei Ying Asks Jiang Cheng To Stay Out Of His Love Life

Lan Zhan keeps walking like #conceal don’t feel but the sad version of WuJi reveals all.

Wei Ying has been growing tired of Jiang Cheng trying to dictate what he should and should not feel or do about things that do not concern him and he rightfully puts him in his place in this scene. Jiang Cheng tells Wei Ying to not choose “someone else” as “we” already have a lot to deal with. He implies Wei Ying shouldn’t help Lan Zhan because he isn’t family and is clearly underplaying his injury despite Wei Ying emphasising its urgency. And Wei Ying is so done with putting up with that kind of negative energy in his love life.

He is quick to silence anyone who thinks they can hold him back from his heart or overstep the boundaries of his relationship with Lan Zhan. And his logic is very sound, for who on earth is capable of stopping Wei Ying from helping him? Not even Lan Zhan!

Wei Ying breaks free of Jiang Cheng's grip and leaves in Lan Zhan's direction after patronizingly patting his arm. And that is his answer. To him, Lan Zhan isn’t just another person and there is certainly no choice he has to make when it comes to him. It will always be Lan Zhan who is his foremost priority and the rest of the world has to simply get used to being left behind.

We see that he knows Lan Zhan would never ask for help but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need it. His soulmate will hence always offer it, and if rejected, simply throw him on his back and continue while Lan Zhan informs him once again of how “boring” it is. He doesn’t get to do that, but his sentiment is romantic enough to stay in Lan Zhan’s memory for sixteen years and become an action he boldly reciprocates when Wei Ying comes back.

Wangxian’s Love Story is Truly “Epic”

Episodes 11 and 12 trace the beginnings of the turmoil that will forge Wangxian’s path (and make us weep). Every romance starts from the idyllic state of undisturbed happiness but it seldom remains there through the whole story. And let’s be honest, calamities bring emotional depth and complexity to a plot, exposing that our favorite characters are human, flawed and a lot closer to reality than we imagined. Both the heroes stay loyal to their core values, with the conviction to be fearless in the face of unforeseen adversities in life and love.

And we hope like the hopeless romantics who are in love with the greatest love story ever told, that maybe all the tragedies that are about to befall Wei Ying and Lan Zhan won’t matter one day because their happy ending will heal all wounds. Obstacles will continue to strew our heroes apart and push them towards the other on a loop, but Wangxian are like magnets destined to snap back together. They will ascend beyond the stratosphere of romance, straight to the heavens, because their love’s greatest virtue is that they have each other and know each other more than any two people ever did in all of history. They are devoted to the other unconditionally in soul, mind and body.

It’s just that our idiot-soulmates take the long way round to realize that their own joint force is capable of annihilating and birthing entire universes, and nothing that ever dared to stand on their path ever stood a chance. And when they do realize that their love is an infinite, impossible force that can bend the laws of nature and be a harbinger of greatness to a world that is doomed to fail, their story is exalted to an epic that doubles as a romance, effectively displacing all the bland, straight examples of love that have infiltrated our past and perpetuated heteronormativity. Because it boasts a love that all of humankind should vie to fashion their lives after and is a true sight to behold - a sight we will rewatch for as long as we live, and bequeath to posterity so they can grow up looking up to Wangxian. Because their love story is the big budget live action fantasy that queer people have been deprived of for so long and is now here to tell us : You should dare to love because it will become your greatest strength. Just like it became Wei Ying and Lan Zhan’s.

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heliads · 4 years ago

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Silent Treatment

Based on the request “racetrack x reader where they got into an argument, and y/n gives racer the silent treatment and he does all these things to impress her and begs her to talk to him. It can be a silly/fluffy/ or angst up to you!!❤️❤️”

masterlist

“Extra! Extra! House catches fire and burns down with an entire family inside- you heard it here!” As you shout headlines to the Manhattan streets, passersby turn to you, handing you their hard-earned coins to buy your ever-dwindling supply of newspapers.

You’ve been a newsie for months now, selling on the same street corner (it has the best assortment of rich folks strolling by) and always making a profit. Sure, sometimes the headlines you advertised weren’t exactly accurate, but did it really matter? Your customers’ money went to a good cause- feeding you and your friends. What more could you ask for?

Once all of your papes are gone, you clap your hands together in satisfaction and saunter briskly off down the street in search of a certain blue-eyed newsboy. You spy him after walking a few minutes, talking earnestly to a couple of wealthy girls. They’re oohing and aahing over his every word, and you grin to see your boyfriend embellishing his headlines just the same as anyone else. As you draw closer to the huddled group, though, your smile starts to slowly slip away.

You’re usually never one to get jealous- you know as well as anyone else that anyone selling papers usually has to flirt more than a little to sell to hard-to-convince customers. You’ve certainly done the same, but yet your heart does a sad little flip in your chest when you hear Race talking to the girls.

You try to push these thoughts out of your head. Race has been nothing but a loyal boyfriend, he would never do anything to hurt you. You paste on a smile and stroll up to Race and the girls, greeting them.

At the sight of you, the girls’ grins start to fall a little flat. Race notices this and turns up the charm even more, coaxing them to stay just a little longer. “Don’t pay attention to them, I believe we were in the middle of a most wonderful conversation. Y/N, don’t you have papes you need to sell?”

You bristle at the sound of Race’s words and can’t help a derisive laugh. “Already sold them all, thank you very much.” The girls notice the rising tension and press some coins into Racer’s hands, grabbing their papers and murmuring polite but quiet goodbyes as they leave.

Race turns to you in annoyance. “Thanks for getting rid of my best customers. They always pay me way more than anyone else, but I guess not today.” You stiffen at Race’s tone. “Well, I’m sorry to interrupt in your business dealings. I was just trying to talk to my boyfriend, but you seemed more than eager to shoo me away.” Race rolls his eyes. “Why are you being so dramatic? The second they saw you they got nervous, so I wanted you to leave. Is that too hard to understand?”

You glare at Race as a realization dawns on you. “You were embarrassed of me, weren’t you? You wanted me to leave because you didn’t want to be seen with me.” Race throws his hands in the air. “Y/N, what are you talking about? So what if I want to make a little more money than usual- is it really that hurtful?” You wrinkle your eyebrows in confusion. “You’re not going to deny it? You really are embarrassed of me?” Race groans. “Well, look at it this way. If you’re trying to sell to a rich customer, you want to seem like a friend of theirs, someone who could almost be at their level.”

You wince at that, and let your hurt expression be washed away by an ocean of calm, icy quiet. “Of course, I understand now. I’m sorry that I looked too much like a street rat that I would cost you your sales.” Race realizes he’s gone too far, and desperately tries to backpedal. “Y/N, I didn’t mean that. I love you, and I couldn’t ever be ashamed of you. I was just trying-” You cut him off icily. “It’s okay, Race. We all have to try our best to make the sales.” With that, you storm away from your boyfriend, ignoring his saddened calls to you. Time to give Race a taste of his own medicine.

You purposefully ignore Race for the rest of the day, taking great care to ensure that your paths don’t cross. You hang out with other friends instead of spending time with him, you eat your lukewarm scraps of a dinner early when you know he always eats late, and you can be overheard saying you were ‘just too tired’ to stay up and wait for him when you go to bed. You also get up early in the morning, making sure you beat him to the door so he can’t catch you alone when everyone else gets up.

There is one place you can’t avoid Race, though, and that’s in the line waiting for Weasel to give you your morning papers. You stand silently in the line, and don’t even look at him when he joins you and the other newsies. He walks quickly up to you. “Y/N, can we talk? I haven’t seen you since yesterday, and I’m really sorry.” You say nothing, standing motionless as if he wasn’t there at all. “Y/N? I know you can hear me!” You continue to pretend he isn’t there, and eventually he walks away to join the end of the line, but not before telling you that “This isn’t funny” and “I’m trying to apologize, why are you doing this?” Once you’re sure he can’t see your face, you let a grin slip across your face at his outraged expression.

Race tries to talk to you again when you’re out selling papes. You’ve just finished another sale, and have stopped moving to pocket a few coins from an elderly gentleman when Race runs up to you. “Y/N, can you please just listen to me? I didn’t mean what I said yesterday.” You just ignore him, no matter how insistent he is. When he runs in front of you, trying to force you to look at him, you just gaze ahead with a vacant stare as if he was never there at all. “Y/N!” At last you speak, and Race looks hopeful when you open your mouth.

“Can I interest you in the morning paper, sir? The banks are deciding on new interest rates and they’re just awful!” Race’s face drops when he realizes you’re addressing a man a few feet behind him. You complete your transaction, doing your best to maintain a straight face while watching Race pout in the background. The gentleman buying your paper notices him and turns back to you. “You might want to find a new selling partner, you know. This one seems rather downcast.” You grin at the man. “I know, right? That’s why I’ve chosen to sell alone.”

Race glares at you once the man walks away. “What was that about? I know you can hear me, so stop ignoring me!” When you say nothing, he fixes you with a conniving stare. “If you won’t talk to me, I’ll find a way to make you do it.” With that, he struts off in the opposite direction, clearly hatching some plan that will probably end in him embarrassing himself on the streets of Manhattan.

When Race returns, he’s holding his bag of newspapers, which looks oddly lumpy, as if he’s stuffed several things in it. You’re intrigued, of course, but maintain your silence and continue to stand on your street corner. Race makes his move shortly after coming back- you’ve just started moving towards a potential buyer when Race jogs over and beats you to it, quickly hawking headlines at the passerby and earning himself a few coins in the process. You’re annoyed that he’s stolen your customer, but you still say nothing.

Race does this for not one but two more people, each time making sure you get the perfect view of the customers he’s stealing from you. After every sale, he glances back at you with a triumphant expression, which falls a little flat when he realizes that you’re still holding to your vindictive silent treatment. Eventually, he gets bored of this and walks quickly over to you, digging into his bag and pulling out two steaming hot fresh buns from the bakery.

This is a new challenge- it’s a crisp morning and the bread smells absolutely delicious. You force yourself to keep ignoring your boyfriend, reminding yourself that this is punishing him, not you. You can’t deny that it’s killing you to not accept this particular olive branch, especially when Race shrugs his shoulders and eats his bread right next to you, smirking victoriously when he hears your stomach rumble.

Race’s next attempt to break your silence is a more romantic approach- he disappears for a few seconds and then jogs back, holding a pretty yellow flower he’s picked from some unlucky soul’s garden. He considers you for a second, and then tucks the flower behind your ear. You don’t move a muscle, but he still beams at you. “You know, you can’t get rid of the flower, Y/N. If you take it out it means that you acknowledge that I put it there and you would be getting rid of your whole ��ice queen’ aura just for a flower’.

You groan inwardly. Why does he have to add rules about the flower? This is supposed you be your silent treatment, not his. Race studies the sight of you and his flower and leans in close to kiss your cheek before dashing away. This time, you’re grateful he’s left- the blush spreading over your cheeks is a clear sign that you know he’s there.

Race doesn’t come back for a while. In fact, it’s been a few hours since he had left, and you’re feeling more than a little disappointed. Has he really given up on you so quickly? You thought he’d have tried a few more times to get your attention. Maybe he just didn’t care that much. You feel your heart sinking at your thoughts. He does love you, right?

To distract yourself, you start moving again. You sell a paper to a man across the street, then cut back around a few corners to get a change of scene. Just as you’re walking past the opening of an alley, a hand reaches out and wraps around your waist, pulling you away from the streets and into the darkened backstreet.

You start to scream, but a hand quickly closes on your mouth, silencing you. You whirl around to see your attempted kidnapper- and are enraged to see Race holding you tight.

“What was that supposed to be? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I thought someone was trying to kill me!” Race just beams at you, and you look at him in angry confusion. “Why do you look so happy?” Race laughs. “You’re talking to me again.” You look up at him, mystified. “Did you really try to kidnap me so I’d stop ignoring you?”

Now that your heartbeat has stopped spiking and your silent treatment has ended, Race wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. “I needed a way to make you talk to me again. Nothing else was working, and I need you.” You roll your eyes, but can’t help but laugh. “You are ridiculous, Racetrack.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Maybe so, but it was worth it to have you back. I don’t like it when you ignore me, you know.”

You smile up at him. “I don’t like not talking to you, either. I feel like it was harder on me than it was on you.” Race kisses you one last time, then guides you out of the alley and back into the Manhattan sunshine. “Let’s never try to avoid each other again, shall we?” You nod in agreement. “Never again.”

#newsies #race #race imagine #race x reader #race imagines #racetrack imagine #racetrack x reader #racetrack imagines #race higgins imagine #race higgins x reader #race higgins imagines #newsies imagine #newsies x reader #newsies imagines

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wonderthor · 5 years ago

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Fun At The Movies

a/n: look at this hot asshole. JUST SOME MORE LATE NIGHT THIRST i wrote this last night at 3am and fell asleep and forgot to post it so please forgive the inevitable errors this has. love you! I DIDNT KNOW WHAT ELSE TO TITLE IT SORRY

pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Black!Reader

summary: Ransom decides to have some fun in a very public movie theater.

warning: smut, public sex(fingering), dirty talk, cursing, i’m tired

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It was clear that Ransom was not the romantic type. he wasn’t into pda or showing affection at all really, you know, normal boyfriend things. his only way of showing love was in the bedroom, and even then he wasn’t a slow and tender lover either. he would, however, take you shopping when you wanted and occasionally out to eat, mostly in the daytime of course. so when you finally talked him into to taking you to see a scary movie late at night, you were completely ecstatic. sure it wasn’t a romantic movie and he wasn’t taking you to dinner, but it was the closest thing to a real date.

after getting dressed in a fuzzy purple sweater and jeans, he picked you up and y’all were on the way to the movies. he saw how visibly excited you were and decided to pick at you for it. “why do you want to see this shit anyway? it doesn’t even look scary, it looks stupid”

“i want to see it because we never really hang out and i think it will be fun! but if someone is a little too scared, we can go see that disney movie instead,” you smirked at him.

he returned a smirk to you as he said, “yeah yeah, just don’t ask me to come over and look under your bed for monsters when you get too scared alone in your room tonight”

“oh please, we both know you’re staying at my house tonight anyway”

“you’re right, and the bed will be shaking so much the monsters will be too scared to come out”

you looked over to see him smiling like an idiot at the awful cheesy joke he just made. “really Ransom? really? that was not funny at all, that was horrible”

“oh come on it was funny! you know it was funny”

it wasn’t much longer until y’all were at the movie theater. Ransom parked the car and y’all walked inside to get your tickets and popcorn. once inside the theater, you saw that the room was pretty packed. it wasn’t completely full, but there was a good number of people. you and Ransom sat on the end in one of the middle rows. you both talked and joked, mostly about who would be the most scared, until the movie started.

so far, Ransom was right. you were way more scared of the movie and jumped and gasped at every jump scare while he sat there uninterested, leaning his head on his hand.

“how is this not scaring you? did you watch scary movies every day as a kid or somethin?” you whispered to him.

“no, this is not a real scary movie. it’s just a bunch of loud noises and ghosts popping up and screaming. this is bullshit. and it’s fucking boring”

“well play with yourself if you’re so bored,” you joked to him.

you didn’t notice because you were too busy hiding your face behind the popcorn from another jumpscare, but he perked up at your words. he watched you and waited until you put the popcorn back down and looked back at the screen. he put his hand on your thigh and crept up your leg. his touch was so familiar that you hadn’t even noticed until his hand was right over your pussy and he started to rub you there. you tore your eyes away from the screen, down to his hand and then up to his face.

“Ransom! what are you doing? there are people everywhere!” you whisper yelled at him.

“well you told me to play with myself but i wanna play with you instead,” he spoke softly as he leaned down so his words went right into you ear. he started to unbutton your jeans and pull your zipper down and you tried to push his hand away. but, he swatted your hand away instead and kept going.

“Ransom please, there are people around us who are gonna notice!”

he pulled your zipper the rest of the way down as he said, “they’re not gonna look unless you give them a reason to. now keep your eyes on the screen and stay fucking quiet”

you did as he said, not wanting to make a scene and cause anyone to look at you. you held your fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet, until his fingers went inside your panties and started rubbing your pussy directly. you let out a quiet gasp and bit down on your fingers to keep you from moaning.

“god, you’re so fucking wet already. do you like that? trying to stay quiet while i rub your wet little pussy?”

you bit on your fingers even harder as you had to suppress another moan at both his words and his fingers picking up speed. you glanced over at him and saw him stare nonchalantly at the screen, as if he was doing nothing but paying attention to the movie. he must have noticed you looking at him, as he traced his fingers up to your clit and started to rub you there. you let out another gasp before you covered your mouth with your hand and clenched your thighs as tight as you could, but he wasn’t having that. he jerked your thighs back apart and leaned back down next to your ear.

“uh uh, behave,” he said in his stern voice that told you he wasn’t playing.

as a challenge for you, he began to rub your clit even faster. and even though your hand covered your mouth, you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, which thankfully a scream from the movie covered up. you were trying so hard not to make anymore noise, taking deep breaths and biting your tongue. but Ransom knew just how to touch you and you found yourself still letting out the quietest whimpers.

“you’re really struggling aren’t you? trying to hold in all those pretty moans and keep them inside. trying not to let everyone in here know what a filthy slut you are for letting me play with your pussy like this”

you wanted to cry out so bad as he put more and more pressure on your clit, your hips starting to move and grind against his hand. you shoved the end of your sleeve into your mouth to muffle all of the quiet moans that had no choice but to spill out. suddenly, he pulled his fingers away from your clit and you thought he was giving you a second to breathe. you thought wrong. he slid two fingers inside you and swiftly began to work them in and out of you. again, you had to fight the urge to clench your thighs together and push him out.

“fuck, i love the way you squeeze around my fingers like that. always so fucking tight”, he deeply groaned in your ear.

he worked in another finger and started to pick up the pace. at this point, you were already blissed out and seeing stars. you couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore and shoved your head into Ransom’s sweater to keep you quiet. you knew you were told to watch the screen, but he didn’t seem to mind as he was too busy enjoying the control he had over your body. you felt how hot and sweaty you were getting and you were sure you looked like a mess.

“Ransom please...i-i don’t think i’ll be able to last much longer”, you whined out, although he ignored you and kept watching the movie.

then, something happened in the movie that caused the characters to start yelling and screaming, which Ransom used to his advantage. he started to full on finger fuck you as fast as he could, making your hips jolt against him and your nails dig into the sides of your seat. you were thankful he waited until now, as your loudest moans were being pulled out of you with no warning.

“oh fuck i feel it. you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you? you gonna be a good girl for me and cum all over my fingers? go ahead pretty girl, i know you want to, don’t fight it”

you clutched at his sweater and clenched your teeth as his fingers were bringing you right to the edge. you burrowed your face deeper into him as your now high-pitched moans became louder and louder.

“there you go. come on, cum for me”

you bit into his shoulder as you came, your thighs shaking against him and the rest of your body trembling as you made a mess on his fingers and all over your panties. the movie saved you again as a loud screaming ghost covered the noise of your own scream. you panted against his sweater as his fingers rode your through your orgasm, your hips’ movements slowing down. when your body was finally still and you caught your breath, he buttoned and zipped up your jeans before he licked his fingers clean. then, the lights came on and everyone started to get up and leave.

“you were right babe, this was fun. we should go see another movie next week, huh?”

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kirishwima · 4 years ago

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soulmate au 30 for Jumin x mc and yoosung x mc? pretty please?

30. Every so often you will get flashes of what your soulmate is seeing at the time, however your soulmate does not know when it happens. ok listen, i get how cute and/or heartbreaking this can be but like,,,,imagine the funny potential djdjksaljd

JUMIN:

* His first flash came unexpectedly-he was at school, another boring class dragging on and on, the view of Jihyun’s messy mint hair more interesting than whatever historical fact the teacher was rambling on about, when his eyes blinked, and suddenly the scenery changed, odd and unfamiliar, his heart stammering in his chest at the sight

* He was still seated, still a desk in front of him-but gone was the pricey mahogany of his private school’s classroom, instead a different, white-painted desk beneath his hands-his black pencilcase replaced with a white one, a cat-face key-chain dangling from its zipper, fingers-were they his own? No, they were far too different, but they were fumbling with the cat ears, flicking one between their thumb and index finger-

* He heard a voice calling out, an unfamiliar voice, an even more unfamiliar name-but before he could even begin to comprehend what was happening the scenery was gone, replaced with the view of his very furstrated teacher standing over his own, normal desk, Jihyun’s worried gaze turned to him with furrowed brows.

* Without bothering to give anyone an explanation, Jumin simply excused himself, leaving class early.

* He didn’t speak of it to anyone until it happened again and again-as he caught more and more glimpses of this persons’ life, how he’d see their hands, fumbling with their phone in bed, looking up one thing after another online, or he’d see them in an alleway, see their knees as they bent down to coo at a nearby stray cat.

* The only person he eventually confided in was Jihyun-he told him his genuine concern, how he was afraid he was going mad, how else could he explain it all?

* Jihyun merely shook his head, a small smile on his lips-Jumin couldn’t be sure, but something about that smile didn’t feel right, as if it didn’t belong on his friend’s face.

* “You’re one of the lucky ones Jumin. That’s your soulmate.”

* Jumin...didn’t know what to do with that information. So he very simply didn’t do anything. What use were these glimpses into a strangers life to him? And what use was it to them, to see glimpses of his own life?

* He became more self conscious, worried everytime he’d be caught doing something wrong, something inapprorpiate-he’d keep his interaction with his father and the random women that came home with him to a minimum, worried his soulmate would see-but why was he worried? Why should he care if they saw or not?

* Yet he carried on this way for years-he’d smile everytime he saw anything cat-related, remembering the flashes of his soulmate’s life, their love for cats; they’d recently adopted a black cat, a curious little thing that spent most of its time on their lap, their hands scratching behind its ears, or perched atop their shoulder like a parrot, as they’d turn their head to face it, the cat happily chirping at them in return.

* That’s the very first thought he had when Rika had presented him Elizabeth the 3d. Had his soulmate seen her? Had they gotten the same rush of excitement he did as she blinked up at him, as she used his lap as a pillow?

* He wondered what it’d be like if their two cats met, a black and white mess in a shared home, tails intertwined as they sat together, hand in hand, watching them-

* Shaking his head, he tried to put that thought out of his mind. After all, he had no plans to meet them. How could he?

* ...how could he accept he’d been falling in love with someone he’d never even met?

YOOSUNG:

* His first glimpse into their life was....rather embarassing.

* He’d just come home from school, exhausted as exam season was right around the corner, college applications haunting his every waking moment-the only thing he wanted was to hop into the shower come out as a full-time employee of a high-paying firm.

* And he did-almost that, letting the water wash the stress of the day away, happily humming a song as he lathered shampoo into his hair, shutting his eyes to avoid any stray soap reaching them-

* -only to find an unfamiliar scene greet him as soon as he opened them again?!

* He’d been in his shower, at his home-that much he was sure of so how-how was he outside right now?! How was he sitting in a park, a sandwich in his hands, and-there were people around him?! But he’s naked!

* He tried to cover up his body but his hands just wouldn’t follow, but as he looked closer-those hands were...manicured? Wait, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have pastel pink coloured nails, unless his sister pranked him again...

* Oh! Oh, this is his soulmate!

* His initial shriek of fear became an excited scream, his eyes trying to soak up everything they could about his soulmate, ignoring his current predicament as he took in the faces of their friends, the colour of their jeans, even the contents of their sandwich, what they liked and disliked, anything and everything about this scene-

* Only to remember his position as soon as the glimpse into their life faded, his own body greeting him once again, the water stinging his eyes as he looked around manically.

* “Wait” he mumbled, eyes wide, “if I saw into their life....and they can see into mine...”

* His poor mom couldn’t ever understand what the context behind her son yelling ‘DID THEY SEE MY D*CK?!” could be as his voice echoed through the entire house.

* Throughout the years he tried to find out as much info as he could about his soulmate-he found out they loved coffee, that they didn’t really like sweet things, since he saw them refusing sugary treats from their friends more than once, unless they were on a diet-which he’d be sure to tell them they didn’t need to unless they absoloutely wanted to! He doesn’t want his soulmate to think they’re not beautiful, he huffed, all the little things that made up their personality, little quirks and habits that made him fall more and more in love.

* He hoped they could see him too, could see things about him they liked-but as he looked around at his bleak life, the only light illuminating his room being the computer screen...he highly doubted it.

* Rika’s death tore him apart, and he knew his soulmate must’ve caught more than a small glimpse of his breakdown, the countless nights he spend crying, how he’d nod off in school because he spent his nights staring at the ceeling, a million thoughts racing through his mind.

* Yet somehow he knew-he knew his soulmate wasn’t the type of person to judge him for it.

* The fated day came when, during his orientation day at university, another flash came to him-a glimpse into his soulmate’s world...

* Only...they were looking at the same view as him? It was the same university, the exact same area-they must be in the orientation tour too!

* And-he saw himself, a blonde bob of hair a few meters ahead of them, could see his own shoulders tense in excitement, how his feet stopped his fast-paced walk-as did theirs, their gaze solely focused on him.

* He turned in a flash, scanning the faces of his fellow colleagues-until he found them.

* He didn’t have to know what they looked like to know this was his soulmate. The way their eyes widened as they saw him, how their lips turned into a soft smile, their hands coming up to their reddened cheeks-he knew.

* Before his confidence could waver, he walked to them, gait shaky, extending a hand to them.

* “It’s...it’s nice to finally meet you.” he said.

* They looked up to him, their eyes clear, holding so much emotion-Yoosung couldn’t wait to begin to untangle this Ariadne’s tangle in their gaze.

* “I-you too” they stumbled over their words, “It’s funny I-I didn’t expect we’d meet like this-I don’t know you yet I feel like-like I’ve known you for a lifetime.”

* Yoosung laughed, clenching their hand tight as they shook his, remaining quiet-what was there even to say?

* His soulmate had nailed it right on the head.

* “Yeah” he said, “yeah, me too-but I can’t wait to spend another lifetime getting to know you”

listen Yoosung is a sappy romantic and once he becomes bold enough he’ll be the sappiest boo ever no u cant change my mind-

-send me a headcanon for mystic messenger character(s) reactions!-

-you can find commission info on my bio if you’d like a full-fledged fic!-

#asks #mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger reactions #mysme headcanons #mysme prompts #mystic messenger prompts #jumin han #yoosung kim #soulmates #soulmate au #fanfics #mysme fanics #mysme imagines #jumin han x mc #yoosung kim x mc #Anonymous

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tayman001 · 3 years ago

Text

GrimmIchi (post epilogue): Includes some Anime characters and an original character of mine also using Anime terms. 3

Ririn and Kurōdo: The fuck you say?

Taylor (uses his spirit energy): I SAID BACK DOWN! Ririn and Kurōdo (scared): OK... Kazui: still sleeping GAY! Koga: Why yes I am thanks for cluing into that little boy. Ichigo: You do realize old man that he is sleeping. Kazui: still sleeping suck... cock... dad... Ichigo: ... Taylor: Don't tell me you let him over hear you and Grimmjow getting intimate, Ichigo. Grimmjow: This is why I've told you to always close the door honey but you never do. Ichigo: EXUSE ME GRIMM BUT ITS YOU WHO DOES MOST OF THE TALKING DURING OUR ROMANTIC INTERCOURSES LIKE YOU ARE BASICALLY TALKING IN 3RD PERSON AND TELLING YOURSELF TO CHOKE ON MY COCK! Kazui: still sleeping choke... on... dad's... cock... Dadjow... Orihime: You aren't being a very good father right now Ichigo. Riruka: In fact I don't think you should even have any children to take care of because you aren't very responsible. Rukia: Neither are me and Renji and you both don't complain about our parenting skills towards Ichika. Renji: Yeah. Chad: ... Noba: ... Koga: ... Ririn and Kurōdo: ... Taylor: Enough! Who gives a fuck if Kazui learns stuff ahead of time... Most people do. Well based on your reactions it would seem like out of everyone here I'm the only adult here that has. Ichigo: See if you wanna blame anyone blame Taylor. Taylor: Ichigo if I were to teach Kazui anything ahead of time I wouldn't do it behind your back. So your statement holds no grounds since its incorrect. Grimmjow: GO TO SLEEP EVERYONE ITS LATE! Everyone (except Grimmjow): Fine! The next morning Kazui: wakes up before anyone else and plays with Ichigo's fatness Ichigo: unaware of what Kazui is doing since he has become a heavy sleeper Kazui (thinking): Maybe if I suck on one of his moobs he will wake up. Kazui: puts his mouth on Ichigo's right moob and starts to suck it Ichigo: wakes up feeling uneasy and sees Kazui sucking his right moob Kazui what the fuck are you doing? Kazui: doesn't stop Ichigo: Kazui get your mouth off my right moob this instance, young man. Kazui: tries but can't pull his mouth off Ichigo's right moob Ichigo: OK what is wrong now... Ichigo tries to pull Kazui off but can't its like his mouth is glued to Ichigo's right moob Ichigo: WTF IS WRONG WHY CAN'T KAZUI RELEASE MY RIGHT MOOB! Everyone (except Ichigo and Kazui): wake up because of Ichigo's shouting Ichigo: Before you say anything, Kazui woke me up by sucking on my right moob so don't blame me for him being stuck here since I've tried getting him off since I woke up. Taylor: I kinda figured that since you don't look like you are enjoying your son's mouth on your right nipple so I can guarantee I never thought anything of the sort. Taylor proceeds to pull out a strange stick out of his pocket and waves it around which sends a light out from the tip and it hits Kazui which pulls his mouth off Ichigo's right moob Taylor (returning the stick into his pocket): There he is free. Ichigo: WTF WAS THAT STICK! Taylor: Oh its my magic wand which I don't use unless to undo someone's glue pranks since glue and skin just means that they are stuck together forever such as if I hadn't used it Kazui would be hanging from his mouth off your right moob for the rest of his life if I hadn't done that and my guess the one who did the glue prank was... starts looking around for something and finds what he was looking for and grabs what it was and holds it so everyone can see it ...Kon. Kon: Please don't hate me for it I wanted to punish Ichigo for being Gay by gluing his right moob since I wanted to make him and Grimmjow stuck like that forever unfortunately Kazui ruined the plan by getting stuck himself. Ichigo: I'm gonna kill him! Kon: NO PLEASE DON'T! Taylor: Ichigo stop... Ichigo: Why? Taylor: ...I have a better idea. Taylor leaves and returns with a special made Gigai that screams "Kon" Kon: Is that for me? Oh WOW! Taylor removes Kon's Mod Soul Candy and places it inside the special made Gigai Ichigo: And how is this better? Kon quickly starts to inflate with pounds of fat

Kon: WTF YOU TRICKED ME YOU ASSHOLE! Ichigo: I never would have thought you'd trick him like that Tay. Taylor: He will remain mobile though. Meanwhile in the Soul Society At Squad 1's Barracks Shunsui: Hey Nanao? Got any word on Squad 13's status? Nanao: FOR THE LAST TIME NO CAPTAIN THEIR CAPTAIN IS STILL IN THE WORLD OF THE LIVING WITH HER FRIENDS. At Squad 2's Barracks Suì-Fēng (on the phone with Yoruichi who stayed in the World of the Living): Oh you are so naughty Lady Yoruichi! Marechiyo: still recovering from his last remark At Squad 3's Barracks Rose: playing his guitar Izuru: dancing At Squad 4's Barracks Isane: gets tripped by a Squad 11 member I'm sorry. Kiyone: ISANE THEY TRIPPED YOU THEY SHOULD BE THE ONE APOLOGIZING! At Squad 5's Barracks Shinji (on the phone with Hiyori): Admit it idiot you aren't returning to the Soul Society because Aizen is still alive but because the memories of the old days are too much for you to deal with. Momo: Captain I'm gonna go to Squad 10's Barracks. Shinji (ignoring Hiyori's yelling): Sure Momo go ahead. At Squad 6's Barracks Rikichi: Captain where is the Lieutenant? Byakuya: ... Rikichi (thinking): Oh great I'm so dead. Byakuya: He is in the World of the Living with his wife. At Squad 7's Barracks Tetsuzaemon: Atau? Atau: does the sign language for yes Tetsuzaemon: Have you seen Sajin? Atau: points to where he last saw Sajin At Squad 8's Barracks Lisa: Hey Yuyu, wanna go to the World of the Living to pester Taylor to get Line? Yuyu: Definitely! At Squad 9's Barracks Mashiro: Hey where is Kensei and Hisagi? Toshimori: They went home already since they said they wanted alone time since Lieutenant Hisagi is due to give birth early next month so they decided to take the last month off so Lieutenant Hisagi can take it easy and the Captain can be at his husband's side. Mashiro: UGH DO THEY NEVER LEARN! At Squad 10's Barracks Momo arrives at the Barracks Momo: Little Shiro where are you? Rangiku: Oh Hey Momo, If you are looking for my Captain he went to the Rukon District. Momo: So he probably went to visit his Grandma, how sweet. At Squad 11's Barracks Fighting can be heard inside At Squad 12's Barracks Mayuri: Akon you still doing ok down there? Akon (still extremely aroused): Yeah Captain in fact I love being trapped under you. At Squad 13's Barracks Sentarō: Its kinda boring here with the Captain out. Meanwhile in the World of the Living Noba (while no one is paying attention to Kon): opens a portal under Kon and it sends Kon into his stomach Kon (inside Noba's stomach): muffed screams Taylor: Noba if you are hungry I can give a bunch of clones to eat clones specifically designed for vore. Noba is thinking Noba: Sure releases Kon Taylor sends in some clones for Noba to do as he pleases with Noba: opens a portal under the group of clones which sends the clones to his stomach There is a knock at the door To Be Continued

#grimmichi #bleach characters #original characters #male pregnancy #male weight gain #male vore

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choupichoups · 6 years ago

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Press F (Instagram/College AU) Ch.14

Eliott may be all that; rich, handsome, instagram famous— but the basic plebe inside comes out to play when his crush follows him from out of nowhere.

Or: Press F but Eliott’s POV

Parting is such sweet sorrow has gained a whole new meaning as Eliott stands in front of Lucas, bouncing back and forth on his heels in a bid to stall some more before he truly has to go.

“You really don’t want me to stay with you until Yann comes back?” He finally pushes out the question, brows furrowing in concern despite the reassuring smile Lucas gives him.

“I’ll be fine, Eliott.” Lucas picks Champ up from the ground when she starts spinning around in place, looking about ready to lay down and have a nap right at their feet. “Go see your mom.”

"I mean... she’ll probably survive one day without eating my dad’s cooking.” he reasons, pouting when Lucas gives him an exasperated look.

“Bring your mom her rightful lunch, just like you told your dad you would. I don’t want there to be any reason for them to hate me.”

“That’s impossible, they already love you.”

Lucas pauses, bottom lip caught behind his teeth as he looks up at Eliott uncertainly. “Really?”

Eliott softens, sighing out a quiet, “Really.” His hands move on their own accord, brushing against the line of Lucas’ jaw. He can’t imagine how a single person in this universe could ever be capable of hating Lucas.

“Really, really?”

“Really, really.”

“Cool. You really, really have to go now, though.” Lucas laughs, nuzzling into Eliott’s hands like that would help his case.

“Okay, but if you need me for anything at all, you’ve gotta promise to tell me.” The grip he has on Lucas tightens just a little, firm enough to have his boyfriend tipping his head back to see the resolve in Eliott’s eyes. “I mean it. Anything.”

Lucas can honestly ask him to do his grocery shopping right here right now and Eliott would undoubtedly agree. Hell, if Lucas tells him that the windows rattling from the wind bothers him, he’d drop everything and run back to him. Eliott has no qualms about the lengths he’d go to protect Lucas, to keep him feeling safe.

Champ yips, gazing happily up at Eliott as a comfortable silence embraces them otherwise, the sight of Lucas’ precious smile warming the crystallizing fear creeping up on him. The mere prospect of leaving his boyfriend alone for hours until Yann gets back is frankly a no go in Eliott’s books but he understands that Lucas might need some space, and Eliott has his own responsibilities to uphold.

Fuck if it doesn’t scare him, though. The atrocious start to their weekend has really done a number on him.

“I promise,” Lucas whispers eventually, leaning up to kiss the beginnings of a frown off of Eliott’s lips.

Eliott watches him carefully, running a thumb over the shadowed smudge under Lucas’ eyes. He’d waited until Lucas fell asleep first before slipping into dream land himself, but Lucas had already been awake by the time Eliott next opens his eyes— and Eliott is an early riser. He forces himself not to dwell on it, he had been privy to an offhanded comment about Lucas’ complicated relationship with sleep before so maybe this morning is nothing out of the ordinary.

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Stooping down for another kiss, Eliott lets this one linger a little longer, breathing in once they pull away and brushing a final kiss to Lucas’ forehead. He peels his hands off of him, squishing Champ’s tiny head in between his palms to make up for how his mind is screaming for him to hold on. “You’ll take care of him for me, right tough girl?” She licks his hands in enthusiastic answer.

Lucas snorts out a laugh. “You take care, don’t miss your stop or you’ll get back too late.”

“Yes, sir.” Eliott playfully salutes as he walks backwards, stopping just out of reach before he gestures towards Lucas’ still closed door. “Well? I’m not leaving until you’re inside.”

He’s expecting the eye roll that comes— it’s sweet and fond, familiar. The exact kind Eliott craves to soothe his fraying edges.

Lucas turns around once he’s inside, grinning at Eliott and blowing an exaggerated kiss in his direction. It’s so ridiculous that Eliott’s laugh is ripped right out of him, loud and startled, echoing in the empty hallways, nipping at the sound of Lucas’ door shutting with a heavy bang.

All alone, he finds himself despondent, kicking imaginary dirt off the floor as he trudges on with a pathetic pout. There’s no proper way to explain this feeling— they’ve literally almost managed to hole themselves up in Eliott’s apartment the entire weekend. It’s not like Eliott can help it, though, he did just get Lucas back and his needy little melodramatic heart misses his boyfriend for every minute they aren’t together.

He drags himself out of Lucas’ apartment building with visible difficulty, feet shuffling against the rough gravel below his feet all the way through his journey to the bus stop.

It’s going to take him quite a while to get to his mother’s office without a car. Usually, his father has no problem dropping by himself, but he’d answered a favour for an old coworker out in Lyon and will probably be stuck there until the next morning.

In a not so shocking turn of events, his mother forgets to take her ready packed lunch to work without his father being present to remind her of it. And obviously that’s an abomination, she can’t go without a homemade lunch Eliott, she’d get so hungry and her brain won’t be as sharp as usual, her work ethic would suffer because of it. Eliott had cut off his papa’s rambling with a groan and a reluctant agreement to bring the goddamn sandwich to its rightful owner just so the guy would stop worrying already. Hopeless romantic runs thick in the blood of the Demauries apparently.

adam.fk plans today??

idrisomd sleep

abebkhellal oof yeah

emir.yous buncha boring old men

omarions says you?? didn’t you spend fall break last year learning how to play chess lmao

emir. yous we don’t talk about that

idrisomd shut up emir not everyone is a free bird like you I was editing some stuff and I realized I need that dumb triangle still lol eliott can I borrow yours pls

emir.yous maybe if you don’t procrastinate you’d have more free time I thought you were keeping that triangle??

idrisomd maybe if you shut up you’d get more dates I had to sacrifice it for the greater good

Eliott laughs under his breath, contemplating whether he should add his two cents into the conversation. In the end, he keeps to himself for now, reading through the childish banter that inevitably starts up.

The triangle, huh. He’s glad the bus is mostly empty at present, else the giggling he can’t quite suppress would’ve probably worried some people. Fucking unbelievable, really. It’s ridiculous how it all started, now that he thinks about it. It feels like a lifetime has gone by since then.

Eliott still remembers it, vividly. That moment he set his eyes on Lucas. It’s the week before their new semester officially starts— a Thursday to be specific. He and his friends are scrambling around frantically attempting to maximize their remaining days of freedom to get ahead on his and Idris’ new film project.

“Props.”

“Props?”

“Yeah, we’re missing some props.”

Eliott struggles with the cardboard boxes he’s dragging behind him— they’re saving all the money they can by building the set for filming themselves. The rest of the guys get pulled into the fray, as always, so it’s a bit of a disaster when they’re all going around picking up stray cardboard and styrofoam just in case they need it for later.

“What’s the thing you were talking about earlier?” Abe snaps his fingers, trying to recall everything they need before leaving campus.

Idris jumps. “The triangle!”

“What do we need a triangle for?” Adam asks, fumbling with the styrofoam cups he’s balancing in one hand.

“For that one scene in the forest.”

“There’s a scene in the forest?” Omar pipes up from behind their circle, returning from the storage room where he’d gone to dig out some black garbage bags they can borrow.

“Well, it’s Emir’s backyard but whatever.” Eliott mutters, scratching things off of their checklist. “Can’t we just fake the triangle sounds?”

“Too much effort for a little scene. Don’t you have one at yours?”

“Yeah, but my place is out of the way, it’ll take too much time going there and then to Emir’s.” He shrugs, tapping the pen against his chin. “We can take the one from the theatre.”

Emir gives him a look. “We are not stealing the orchestra’s triangle.”

“Nobody will miss it,” Abe dismisses, already walking off to load their things in his car.

“What if someone tells the director it’s missing?”

“Emir, who would notice a missing triangle?” Idris raises his hands as he talks, incredulous at the question. “When you watch your classic live shows, do you hear anyone go oh, yes, the triangle was on point today? No you don’t, cause nobody gives a fuck about the goddamn triangle, man. Eliott, can you please grab us the triangle so we can get outta here?”

“If we get in trouble, I get plausible deniability,” Emir mumbles defiantly. Eliott snorts, patting Emir on the shoulder on his way out.

The theatre is only a short jog away from the parking lot so Eliott slips through the doors in no time, rooting around backstage for the instrument. He finds the little thing buried underneath a broken flute and a... tambourine?

Single piano notes echo along the walls without warning, and Eliott jumps from his crouch, heart beating fast from shock. He doesn’t run, though, because whoever is out there is obviously not going to spot him if they’re preoccupied with playing the piano.

He’s just about to leave again, grab his stolen goods and sneak his way back out, when the aimless piano notes begin to blend together with effortless flow, a sudden transition tickling his ears so pleasantly that Eliott can’t bring his feet to move along more than two steps at a time. Transfixed, he walks closer to the curtain, curious as to who would play such a beautiful melody so delicately.

Eliott has always wished life would be as easy as the films he's grown up watching— with twists and turns that cause crushing moments, yes, but with the comfort of a happy ending to cushion against the pain through it all. He’s always dreamt of something cliche to happen to him once in his life. Maybe he could win the lottery and live the rest of his life as a billionaire. Maybe he could meet someone so inspiring he’d gain the courage to pack up and explore the world with nothing but a boat and backpack. Maybe he could fall in love at first sight

The boy on the piano is turned sideways but Eliott can clearly see him from where he’s hidden behind the curtain. The smile on his face is plain adorable and the way he’s swinging his feet under the piano (he’s not even using the piano pedals and it still sounds so good) goes straight to Eliott’s heart.

His feet carry him forward, as if entranced, so helplessly drawn into the boy’s gravity—

“Stop,” the boy says, laughing. Eliott stops, startled. “You’re gonna ruin it, Yann,” his angel continues, head swinging to the side where another person who Eliott has apparently not seen is sitting.

The other guy, Yann, laughs too, picking up a violin. “No I swear, I can do it. I took classes once, remember?”

“Yeah, like ten years ago and you quit after two days.”

The two boys giggle at each other and the angel stops playing, attention fully on Yann. There’s a profound affection in the way they interact together, which makes glum little stones fall heavy against the bottom of Eliott’s stomach.

Jesus, he needs to calm down. He doesn’t even know the boy’s name yet.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and Eliott’s glad he’s forgotten to put the ringer back on. He doesn’t know how he’d explain it if the two boys catch him skulking around backstage.

Eliott runs out of the theatre soon after, remembering how pressed for time he and the guys already are. He tries to put the thought of the boy behind him, making vague hand gestures in lieu of explaining what delayed his return when the guys question him.

He fails miserably.

The bus lurches and Eliott almost drops his phone, fingers grappling for a firm hold on the screen as it slips and slides from the abrupt movement. He still has the group chat with the guys open so the scrabble has him accidentally scrolling up, up, up around a month back.

When he looks down at the screen, he's taken right back to that delightful moment Lucas had unknowingly caused back then.

The doors open and close, one person exiting but a whole crowd entering right after. Eliott presses himself more comfortably into his back seat corner and settles a hand over his mouth, covering the widening grin stretching his lips as he reads through his own moronic words.

Good god, looking back on it now is hilarious, but Eliott will never forget the all consuming panic he’d felt at the time.

Eliott exits out of the chat, frantically scrolling down his barrage of notifications to stare reverently at the one that matters most.

lucallemant started following you

It’s almost two hours past midnight, with him having just finished up the sketch for the side project he’s working on by himself. He’s been looking forward to falling into bed ages ago but now he’s wide awake, brain swirling with jumbled thoughts and with no hope of falling asleep within the next second.

srodulv when should I? should I wait til later?

adam.fk maybe wait til its not 2 in the morning lmfao

srodulv what if I wait too long and he unfollows

abebkhellal god almighty 😂😂😂 sorry bro no one can help u now

srodulv help me

emir.yous why does it matter? just follow him now

idrisomd he’s probably sleeping so he won’t know you’re a nocturnal beast

srodulv he won’t think that’s lame?

omarions he’ll eventually figure out how lame you are so might as well run with it

srodulv fuck off

idrisomd yeah man you can’t hide lame

emir.yous sorry we can’t help with that

abebkhellal rip

srodulv has left the chat

A bunch of useless hooligans, those guys are. He needs better friends.

His phone pings with more notifications— Idris has added him back in the group chat but Eliott ignores the messages for now, knowing full well that there’d be nothing but more of them poking fun at his current dilemma.

He opens up Lucas’ profile, heart palpitating as his thumb hovers over the follow button. Looking at the boy’s feed brings him the same mix of apprehension and fondness, as always. The latter because he’s an idiot who apparently falls head over heels for snippy little piano players and the former because, well—

I’m sorry, bro. I saw something, I think they’re maybe together? I’m still not a hundred percent on it, though.

Eliott sighs, clicking on Lucas’ latest post, of that guy playing the guitar for him. He scoffs, he can play the guitar too. He can even do the Star Wars theme song. On the guitar and the piano. Lucas needs to see that he’s the better choice over here.

He lets his screen go dark, closing his eyes as he urges himself to relax. It is quite an ungodly hour to be awake so he drops his phone on the bed, turns over, and hopes that morning comes with a newfound game plan to get the love of his life to love him back.

The good news is that morning does come, but the bad news is that all the plans he comes up with throughout the day are steaming piles of shit.

“I think I’m in love,” he blurts out, sitting in the basement of Emir’s house. Idris is standing on the couch, trying to cover the ceiling spotlights with printer paper so as to ‘dull’ its luminosity. Adam and Omar are struggling to hold up some desk lamps while Abe holds coloured file folders over the bulb, changing the colour of the lights for the correct ‘ambiance’. Emir is elbow deep in crushed styrofoam pieces.

They all exchange looks of confusion before Abe goes for a hesitant, “Uh... just now?”

Eliott scowls, waving a hand as if they’re so stupid to be unable to read his mind. He gestures to his phone, still open to Lucas’ Instagram page.

"Oh yeah! Any progress on that front?” Idris hops down, eyes glued to the ceiling as he backs up, slowly as if one wrong move could shake the house so much that his pieces of paper would dislodge themselves.

“No.” Eliott pouts, flailing his legs in unashamed frustration.

“Okay, well, have you followed back?” Adam asks, twining some rope around the lamp once they’ve figured out the best angle to go with.

“No. Shit,” Eliott hisses, sitting upright and immediately hitting the follow button. He’s been so focused on figuring out how to start a conversation with his angel that he’s neglected to think of much else.

One of them sighs, but Eliott doesn’t bother to look up at the sound of it.

“So what are you gonna do next?” Emir abandons his crumbly work of art, now sitting cross legged across from Eliott.

“He’s vague posting.” Idris grins, scrolling through his phone. “Ooh, Polaris. When did you even sneak off to take this? That caption though. Much mystery, so cool.”

“Shut up, it’s an old picture.” Eliott throws a couch cushion at him, then proceeds to slide onto the floor, diving flat on his stomach closer to the guys, as he comes up with the most brilliant idea. “What if I’m not?”

“Huh?” Abe goes to sit on the floor as well.

“What if I’m not cool or mysterious? Would that get him to talk to me?” Eliott’s thumbs are working on overdrive before the words are fully out of his mouth, scrolling down each and every one of Lucas’ photos and hitting like on as many of them as he can manage.

He looks up just it time to see the dawning realization on Abe’s face. “No!” he screams in horror, reaching out to snatch the phone from Eliott’s hands. “No, you— oh man, you guys, he did a weird thing.”

“It’s not weird,” Eliott dismisses, trying to retrieve his phone back but every attempt is slapped away by the annoying people he unfortunately calls friends. “It’s called reaching out.”

Idris is cackling, bent over in half as Abe shakes his head in wonder. “That’s kinda genius, though? How very Eliott of you,” Idris gasps out once he’s done wheezing up a lung.

“He’s getting the Eliott experience way too early in the relationship.” Omar mumbles, curiously going through the rest of Lucas’ older posts. “Aw, cute.”

Eliott scrambles towards them, wanting to see which post Omar’s referring to despite the fact that he’s seen every single photo twice over.

His hand slowly creeps up above the phone and double taps on the post.

“Oh my god, someone restrain him.” Adam says, dragging a hand down his face. He sounds like he’s trying his hardest not to laugh which is more than what he can say for the rest of them so Eliott appreciates his effort.

“Come on, Eli monkey, time to break off from Insta for a bit, hm?” Idris walks forward, still chuckling as he tries to pull Eliott off the ground and away from his stolen phone.

Eliott wraps his arms around Idris’ ankles, almost making the latter fall on his face in the process. “But he’s so beautiful.”

“Yes, yes.”

“His eyelashes are the 8th wonder of the world.”

There’s a collective groan from everyone in the room and then Eliott feels a placating hand patting the top of his bowed head. “Yes, we get it. But you gotta get up now, lover boy. We‘ve got shit to film.”

By the time his stop comes up, Eliott has to squeeze himself past a godawful amount of passengers. He gets it’s break week for a lot of the students but considering it’s a Monday afternoon, Eliott is of the opinion that there really shouldn’t be this many people out and about.

His mother’s office is a towering structure of reflective glass and one way windows. Eliott pushes at the revolving doors, nods a smile towards the reception desk, and settles into one of the many armchairs in the lounge area. He shoots a message for his mama to come meet him downstairs and doesn’t wait for a response before switching tabs to pull up the film he’s been wanting to see all day. Initially, he’s planned on seeing it with Lucas, knowing that it’s just the right amount of lengthy and boring (for his boyfriend’s taste) to have Lucas cuddling for a nap on his shoulder instead.

But alas, his plans are impeded by none other than his loving parents. Again. He still hasn’t quite forgiven them for poking fun at him being grumpy at brunch after that first night he’d spent with Lucas.

About ten minutes in, someone walks towards him and sits directly across from Eliott’s armchair, never mind that the entire lounge area is devoid of any other person than the two of them.

Eliott doesn’t pay it much mind, unmuting his phone speakers just loud enough for him to hear the background music coming from the film— he wants to record the sound and see if that kind of music score would work well for the mini project he’s planning to put up in the future.

The stranger lets out a faint chuckle but Eliott ignores him, watching the minutes rise on the recording to make sure that he doesn’t miss a single note. Never let it be said that Eliott doesn’t take his films seriously.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Violence is never at the forefront of Eliott’s mind. In fact, he thinks it doesn’t solve much, and should be considered as the last resort. But as life would have it, there are always a few exceptions to the rule and unfortunately for his good mood, the sole exception he’s found in his twenty one years of existence has decided that today is the day that Eliott will commit murder.

Eliott’s eyes flick to where Raphael relaxes back in his seat, legs crossed and fingers delicately twined in his lap— to any outside viewer, he truly looks the perfect representation of an educated, well-bred gentleman. Eliott sees why people are drawn him.

“Fancy isn’t the right word,” he says, just as casual. He pauses the film, music cutting off just in time for him to hear another one of Raphael’s grating chuckles. “Why are you here?” The answer is obvious; pressed slacks and dark suit a dead give away. He remembers Lucas mentioning that Raphael works in a law firm but Eliott needs to hear it, to make sure that fate has really handed this opportunity over on a silver platter.

Raphael spreads his arms. “I work here,” he answers, smug. “What about you? Someone trying to pin murder on you?”

Funny how he’s asking that, but Eliott doesn’t answer his question. “New York too much for you, huh.”

Eliott watches the minute narrowing of Raphael’s eyes, taking pleasure in the fact that the guy hasn’t expected Lucas to divulge their story in such detail.

“New York was great, actually, they offered me a spot there as well but eh, I need to think about it.” Raphael leans forward, elbows on knees as he brings one hand up to rub across his lips, faux thoughtful. “I left a little something behind here.” He looks at Eliott, then, and the latter sees the fabricated warmth in his eyes freeze over, ice cold in barely restrained anger. “I want it back.”

Don’t mess this up, Eliott reminds himself, fists clenching and unclenching as he reigns in his temper. How he’d love to feel the crunch of Raphael’s nose under his fists right now, but it’s not that kind of battle. Eliott only has one shot to play his cards right.

“Cut the bullshit,” he responds, surprisingly calm. “Lucas isn’t yours to take back.”

Raphael laughs. “Why, he’s yours now?”

Yes. “Neither. I’d appreciate it if you stop talking like he’s something to pass around.”

“How chivalrous of you.”

“I’m surprised you know what that means.” Eliott wants to say more, but he grits them back. There are more important things for him to needle out. “What with all the shit you put him through.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Raphael falls back into the cushions once more, infuriatingly unaffected.

“Do you want an essay or a list?”

“So quick to believe everything you’re told, are you? Did he cry and look at you with those big blue eyes? He does that all the time to get what he wants.” There’s a strain at the corners of Raphael’s eyes, nonchalant facade slipping down the longer Eliott stares on without a word. “You know there’s no evidence for any of these, right?”

The quick dismissal of Lucas’ personal recounting almost does it for Eliott. But if Raphael is a master of manipulation then Eliott is of restraint— he won’t let Raphael win. “Yeah? You gonna tell that to the marks on his wrists?”

Raphael scoffs, “That was an accident. Friday was a big misunderstanding, trust me. It’s called tough love, he likes it.” He smiles, obviously waiting for a reaction from Eliott but the latter maintains an impassive exterior.

“It’s called assault.” He barely refrains from tagging on a spiteful fuckface at the end of that.

“Whoa there, that’s some heavy accusation you’re dropping!” Raphael laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Do you know who I am?”

“A sad excuse of a man who takes advantage of vulnerable minors?”

Raphael clicks his tongue. “You think you’re so perfect, huh?”

“Far from it.” Eliott shrugs. “But I don’t hurt the people I’m supposed to love.”

“Well aren’t you just the sweetest.” Sarcasm drips from Raphael’s words. “You think if we both stand here, right in front of Lucas, and make him choose.” He leans forward, a desperate glint in his eyes. “You’re positive he’d choose you? Cause let me tell you, Eliott, that boy is wired for my touch, for my voice, for my own to do as I please, and he will choose me no matter how much I hurt him. He will always come back to me and you can’t do shit about it.”

Victory feels good when taken by a landslide. Eliott grins, and he sees confusion, frustration, and wariness warp Raphael’s carefully constructed expression into that of something… human. Human, unlike the impenetrable monster Lucas has painted inside his head. Human, who, despite the cunning and intelligence, very much fucks up like everyone else. And oh, has Raphael fucked up big time.

“My turn,” Eliott says cheerfully, just to mess with the bastard even more. “Do you know who I am?” Slowly, so as to make sure that Raphael catches the movement, Eliott stops the recording on his phone.

Raphael shoots up from his seat, panic dousing his face red all over before seething rage takes prominence. He hisses out a quiet, “Get rid of that, right fucking now. You don’t want to mess with me.”

Eliott stands, huffing out a small laugh as he notices that they’re of equal height. None of Raphael’s tactics has worked, or will ever work on him. “Nah, it’s the other way around.”

“Eliott?”

Georgine Eloise Demaury, part time managing partner of the law firm, part time vicious criminal prosecutor, and full time doting mother, makes a tall, intimidating figure in her navy suit and sky high heels. Her eyes are steel blue as they land on Eliott and Raphael alternatively. The red on her lips is a sharp scowl, striking against the paleness of her skin.

Eliott presses his lips together, amused at the sight of what he fondly refers to as her working bitch face. She’s forbidden Eliott from visiting her at work too often just because he’s the only one capable of cracking her diabolical attorney persona. He keeps quiet, shrugging innocently when she raises a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Hi, mama.”

He hears Raphael’s sharp intake of breath and fuck, that feels good.

Her lips twitch the slightest bit. “You two know each other?”

“Just having a friendly chat,” Eliott says, looking over at Raphael with a tight smile. He relishes the startled loss he sees there.

“I’m waiting on a call from Mr. Schutt,” Raphael says, rearranging his face, posture straightening under Georgine’s gaze.

“And you?” She addresses Eliott this time.

“I brought lunch?” Eliott gestures at his bag on the chair. “Papa got worried you’d starve when you told him you forgot it.”

She rolls her eyes at her husband’s dramatics. “You didn’t have to come here.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to papa. You’re gonna have to eat it now, I ditched my boyfriend for this.”

“Ah, how’s Lucas? Come up to my office, you didn’t finish telling me how he’s doing last night,” she says, rigid frown compensating for the soft tone in her voice. Across from Eliott, Raphael flinches at the mention of Lucas’ name. “I need to grab something from IT and then I’ll be right there.”

“Will do.” Eliott smiles, throwing his backpack over one shoulder when his mother walks away. He waits until the click clacking of her heels fade off completely before he turns to face Raphael. “So anyway, I suggest you think very hard about that offer in New York.”

“You’re insane,” Raphael mutters behind clenched jaws.

Years ago, that might have stung. Coming from someone else, it might still hurt. But as it is, Eliott revels in it. “You have no idea,” he says, raising his hand for the most condescending pat on the back he’s ever delivered before heading off to the elevators.

Eliott ends up taking a long nap on his mother’s office couch, tired from interacting with Raphael and his stupid mind games. Sure, he’d come out on top of that one but lengthy confrontations are most definitely not Eliott’s cup of tea. He thinks if Raphael still has the audacity to show his face after that, Eliott will let loose of inhibitions and just start a proper fist fight.

Recording their conversation had been a gut reaction— he’s not even sure it would help much if push comes to shove. But his mother has quite the terrifying track record and judging from Raphael’s reaction, he knows that too. He almost wishes for Raphael to do something stupid, to trip up the wire on Eliott’s half baked, convoluted plan to take him down permanently. The idea of delving into it scares him a little. He knows shit all about the justice system and Raphael is literally part of the goddamn system.

Lucas wants to leave it to karma, and maybe he’s right.

But then Eliott remembers the tears streaming nonstop down Lucas’ face, the blank disconnect in his eyes throughout that night. His worn voice begging for Eliott not to let go. The hours spent in bed coaxing for an unresponsive Lucas to sleep just a little, I’m right here. The events of that night have taken permanent residence in his mind, painfully unwanted, but there to stay.

lucallemant Eliott, I know I said I’d give you all the time you need And I mean it, you can have more right after this But please, can you pick me up at work? I need you please Please

Call him dramatic all you want, but Eliott’s world comes apart when he reads Lucas’ pleading messages. His vision narrows, the path a blurred vignette, and time slows as if he’s thrown into the fucking matrix. Except there’s nothing exciting or amusing with this development, and his limbs work through honey as he turns and grabs a jacket, shoves his feet into mismatched shoes, and makes a run for it.

It’s not the messages itself that cost him his breath— though those do have him worried out of his mind, unable to even begin guessing as to what would scare Lucas enough to send them. It’s the timestamps that have his heart rattling with unease. The faint chanting of too late too late too late a mournful echo in his head.

He pays no mind to it when he begins panting, head pounding as the freezing wind bites at him with heavy force, unbothered that he hasn’t eaten much for the past however long. He’s not going to stop until he reaches his destination.

However, when he gets there, the cafe is dark and empty. You’re too late, the voice is screaming now. Eliott tells it to shut up, paces the area for a bit, and then checks inside the darkened alleyways. It’s empty. He walks the opposite direction, headed towards the parking lot— and there, that’s when he hears the hushed voice speaking.

Eliott swivels around, rushes towards the sound, and doesn’t allow himself to hesitate on the idea that it’s not Lucas trapped in between the wall and that man’s body.

“Get the fuck off of him.” When he’s close enough, he shoves them apart, fighting against the urge to take Lucas in his arms right away. He has to get rid of the man first. The visceral clutch of anger simmers inside of him, a heat of gargantuan proportions boiling his blood. Eliott imagines this is what one would feel like just before committing a heinous crime.

His interaction with the stranger barely sticks to Eliott’s mind, more focused on the way Lucas presses close to his back. His hands shake with barely constrained fury but he doesn’t move, afraid Lucas will fall if Eliott isn’t there to hold him up. “You can fuck right off or I swear to god.”

The man raises his hands, chuckles ringing malicious as he shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Eliott doesn’t care for his cryptic bullshit. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His smile is visible in the dark and Eliott’s been around enough of those with questionable morals to pinpoint the lack of kindness in it. “Fine.” He tilts his head as if to catch a final glimpse of Lucas but Eliott tucks Lucas in tight behind him— this guy doesn’t deserve to even look at him.

When the sound of a car engine fades out, Eliott turns around, engulfing Lucas as best as he can, hoping that his embrace would provide a temporary shelter from it all. He knows it’s impossible, knows he can’t do much on his end other than watch with powerless clarity as painful sobs wrack the small body in his arms. He repeats a litany of apologies into Lucas’ hair. “I have you, I have you.”

Their walk home is silence in its strangest form. Eliott realizes there’s something wrong, he can feel it at the tips of his fingers but he puts it down to Lucas gathering his thoughts and lets him be.

“Lucas,” he says as the apartment comes into view. “I know we haven’t… I don’t… listen, can I stay with you for the night? I’ll sleep on the couch, anything, I just want to be there.”

Silence.

Eliott bites his cheek, fidgeting nervously when Lucas continues to not say anything. He chances a glance at the boy beside him and sees him looking straight ahead, expression blank as if nothing’s been said.

“Thanks,” is all Lucas says once they reach the steps to the building, failing to acknowledge Eliott’s request.

“Lucas, wait!”

Unheard, just like the last time.

There’s something really, really wrong.

Eliott picks at his head, staring up at what he knows to be the window to Lucas’ apartment. He tells himself he’ll only wait until the lights flicker on, but seconds turn to minutes and the window remains dark. Chest tightening, Eliott changes his mind. He’ll wait until someone goes in or exits the building, will plant himself outside of Lucas’ door— he doesn’t care if Lucas or Yann don’t want to see his face right now, all he wants is to make sure that Lucas stays safe for the rest of the night.

Except the next person to exit the doors is Lucas himself, Champ cradled in his arms.

“Why are you not inside?” Eliott is familiar with the feeling of helplessness but it always pertains to his own mind, his own body. He’s rarely ever so taken off guard that he doesn’t know how to make it better for someone else. And yet here he stands, frozen with panic, speechless in the face of the one he loves most.

Yann isn’t home, Lucas is hard-pressed on buying extra locks for their door, and there’s no way Eliott is letting him back inside the apartment all alone.

“Lucas,” Eliott reaches out, wants nothing more than to cradle Lucas’ face in between his hands, but he’s afraid of what touching him would do. “Come back to me.” It sounds unsteady even to his own ears and maybe Eliott’s having a little trouble breathing, but he’s more desperate for Lucas to meet his eyes than worry about his next inhale.

Lucas doesn’t. Come back to Eliott, that is.

The entire walk up to his apartment, and then the walk back to Eliott’s are both filled with a strained distance that has nothing to do with physical proximity. Eliott’s no longer surprised when Lucas doesn’t answer any of his questions but he keeps firing off either way, hoping against all odds that something would click. But it doesn’t work that way, he knows. He, of all people, should know better.

He tries again once they’re inside the safety of Eliott’s home. “Lucas, are you with me?” Eliott asks and he’s not. He’s not.

Running out of options, Eliott’s hand hovers over his mom’s contact info, his dad’s, Idris’, Lucille’s— he just wants someone to tell him what to do.

In the end he doesn’t get to call anyone, as a loud thud comes from the bathroom where he’d left Lucas and Eliott trips over himself in his rush, crashing into the kitchen counter, banging his arms against the potted plant hanging in the living room.

But the pain from those clumsy little accidents is nothing compared to the sight of Lucas crying on the floor, blue eyes running red from the force of his tears. “Lucas?”

“Eliott.” His voice is so quiet, so broken that it takes Eliott down to his knees, colliding harshly against the tiled floors as he brings Lucas into the circle of his arms. Tears gather in the corners of Eliott’s eyes but he knows for certain that they’re not from the sting of his fall.

“Don’t let me go back,” Lucas pleads, breath caught between one word and the other.

“You’re never going back,” Eliott swears on his life.

Lucas quiets down after what feels like hours upon hours of tears and stuttering breaths. Eliott knows he isn’t asleep, though— his wet lashes brush softly against the skin of Eliott’s neck for every blink. Left without much option, Eliott detangles their legs and carefully lifts Lucas into his arms, a mustard seed of hope swelling in his chest when Lucas twitches at the movement. There’s a pause as Eliott waits for the boy to protest, grumble for Eliott to put him down, he can walk on his own.

It doesn’t come, so Eliott goes to tuck him into bed, receives no protest when he quietly dresses Lucas in the clothes he’s brought out. Lucas’ eyes remain downcast the entire time, immovable no matter how many times Eliott brushes a hand through his hair, wipes at the tear tracks smeared on his cheeks.

Lucas doesn’t sleep until well past two in the morning. Eliott doesn’t sleep at all.

“You okay, honey?”

His mama looks like a whole different person in private, Eliott’s always marvelled at her ability to switch off just like that. Her eyes are all clear skies and motherly affection, no trace of the savage G.E Demaury to be found as her hands card gently through his hair.

He wants to tell her so badly, but this is Lucas’ story to share. Involving his parents to ask for help with anything is a foreign concept to Lucas and would make this a bit more complicated, yes, so Eliott will just have to wear patience like it’s going out of style.

“Yeah,” he croaks out, still groggy from his nap.

“Do you wanna wait for me to finish up here and I can drive you back?”

“Uh…” Eliott rubs his eyes, forcing his brain to catch up with his mama’s words. He checks his phone before answering, blinking while his eyes adjust to the brightness of his screen.

lucallemant Do you wanna come over for tonight? I know we were just together but It’s fine if you’re gonna be back too late though

He thinks he’s actually physically melting just from reading those. “It’s okay, I have to get going now.”

srodulv If I didn’t fall asleep I’d be begging you to come over anyway

lucallemant You were asleep at your mom’s work??

srodulv 😂 See you soon ♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ☹️ ♥️

lucallemant ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️ ♥️

srodulv 😊 ♥️

He stops to get some take out on the way, knowing Yann will be there and would most likely not be so chummy with Eliott after the whole thing from the past few weeks. He figures he can extend a truce through food— the way to a man’s heart and all.

When he knocks on Lucas’ door, he hears a couple of thuds, some rapid, illegible whispering, and then the door finally opens only for Lucas to catapult himself into Eliott’s arms. The door slams shut behind him and Eliott might just be seeing things but he’s pretty sure that’s a glimpse of Yann’s unimpressed form standing on the other side of the door.

“Hi,” Lucas breathes out, one arm slung around Eliott’s neck while the other is bent awkwardly behind him, holding onto the wriggling doorknob as if to keep a ravenous beast from escaping.

Uh oh.

“Hi,” Eliott greets back. “On a scale of Champ to Jurassic Park, how scared should I be of Yann right now?”

Lucas bites his lip and Eliott can’t help it— he kisses him before Lucas can respond. He means for it to be a chaste touch, but Lucas lets go of the knob (thankfully no longer rattling) and throws both arms around Eliott, pressing closer and opening his lips to deepen the kiss. Eliott lets himself indulge in it but is quickly brought back to reality when he tries to wrap both arms around Lucas only for the take out bag to hit Lucas’ ass with a dull thunk.

“Ow, what the fuck.” Lucas pulls away, spinning on the spot as he looks for the offender.

“Sorry,” Eliott laughs, lifting the bag. “I bought food. Peace offering.”

“Oh my god, you’re so smart,” Lucas says, sounding genuinely pleased. “I apologize in advance though, he thinks he’s my dad sometimes.”

“Damn right!” Yann shouts from behind the door.

“Jesus.” Lucas mutters under his breath. “You ready?”

Eliott nods, rehearsing the quick speech he’d made up in his head during the ride back to Lucas’ place. All that preparation’s for nothing, however, when all Yann does is look at him when the door finally opens. He looks at Eliott like he’d done weeks ago, when Eliott had taken Lucas home after the encounter with his father, unspoken understanding passing between the two of them as easy as that.

I technically have no right to be mad but I am, Yann’s usually kind eyes are hardened earth. There’ll be hell to pay if you pull that shit again, the look in them all but screams mistrust.

Eliott nods, hoping Yann also understands his most sincere but wordless response— never again.

The stare off probably only lasts a few seconds but to Eliott, it feels like an eternity before Yann’s eyes start to squint, one hand reaching for the take out bag that Eliott has stuck in the space between the two of them. Slowly, Yann takes a hold of it, snatches the bag from Eliott’s grip, and sniffs into it. He’s still squinting at Eliott as he walks backwards to take the food inside the kitchen.

“Okay, weird but blessedly silent. I’ll take it,” Lucas huffs, taking Eliott’s hand and dragging him past the living room and into the little hallway. Belatedly, Eliott realizes that they’re headed straight for the bedroom, Lucas marching them towards the door like a man on a mission.

“Don’t you wanna eat?” Eliott asks, pulling back to slow Lucas down. “I bought that for you too.”

“Later, I just,” Lucas pauses, his door already wide open once they reach it. “I have to ask you something.”

Well that doesn’t sound foreboding at all. Eliott clears his throat. “Okay.”

They arrange themselves on the foot of the bed, legs crossed and facing each other. When Lucas starts fidgeting, Eliott reaches over to intertwine their fingers together.

“I know we joked about it before… or more like just yesterday actually… but uh,” Lucas starts, looking around the room to avoid meeting Eliott’s eyes head on. “So Marie’s home now and I’m taking Champ back to her on Thursday.”

“Okay,” Eliott says, smiling when Lucas discreetly looks at him from the corner of his eyes.

“Okay, um.” Lucas takes a deep breath and spills the rest out on a long exhale. “My mom will be there too and I was wondering if you’d like to come?” He’s wincing by the time the question ends and Eliott, endeared, can only stare. “Maybe? You don’t have to. I understand if it’s too early or whatever—”

Eliott brings their tangled hands up to his lips and rains down kisses to the back of Lucas’ palms until he shuts up.

“I’ll come,” he says, and then after a short silence continues with, “I’d love to.”

Lucas’ relief is palpable.

“Okay. That’s… that’s good.”

“You’re cute when you’re all nervous like this,” Eliott teases, wanting to see Lucas’ smile. Sure, it’s only been a couple of minutes since he’s last seen it but Eliott’s one greedy motherfucker when comes to Lucas.

“What?” The corner of Lucas’ lips tilts up, but it’s not quite the smile Eliott’s looking for.

“You’re all nice and cute when you’re nervous. No room for snarking or swearing at me.”

“Shut up.”

“Ah, it was good while it lasted.”

“Shut up!” Lucas laughs, kicking at Eliott’s knee.

“Oh you’re kicking me now too, my god, such violence from a tiny human.”

“You’re so dumb.” Lucas pushes at his shoulder and Eliott goes down easily, but not before winding an arm around Lucas so that his boyfriend falls on top of him in their descent. “Such an idiot.”

“Your idiot,” Eliott retorts as cheesily as can be, grinning when Lucas laughs again, eyes scrunched and mouth open.

“God, do you ever shut up?”

“Yeah, there’s one way to shut me up.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re really good at it.”

Lucas leans down and Eliott feels the smile on his lips. The kisses start off as innocent pecks, short and dry, until Lucas brushes their noses together and teases the tip of his tongue in between Eliott’s slightly parted lips.

Eliott surges up then, locking their lips together as he moves, sitting upright with his arms still secured around Lucas. His boyfriend goes along with it, easily shuffling around so that he’s sat comfortably on Eliott’s lap, hands slightly cold against the back of Eliott’s neck, but the latter doesn’t mind— Lucas’ mouth is scorching enough to make up for it.

His jacket gets tossed to the floor at some point and his hands wander inside Lucas’ hoodie, searching for the warmth of his skin under, encouraged by the way Lucas tightens his arms around Eliott’s shoulders when he runs a hand from the nape of Lucas’ neck down to the dip low on his back. The intensity reminds him of their first time— only slightly, because Eliott doesn’t think anything could come close to that night. But he recalls the warm weight of Lucas on his lap, against the wall, over him, under him. Recalls the way he’d jokingly asked Lucas how many fingers he’s holding up. How Lucas had very non jokingly slipped the two fingers in his mouth and licked around them until Eliott lost his mind.

The memory of it has heat rushing up and down Eliott’s body in frantic jolts, melting away his higher functions until he finally flips them over, gently laying Lucas down below him just like he’s always done. His fingers lightly dance along the line of Lucas' jeans and the latter lets him, Lucas’ hands exploring the wide expanse of Eliott’s back under his shirt.

And that’s something new— not Lucas touching him no, but rather the confidence he exudes in bed. Eliott doesn’t think he’d ever forget the shakiness of Lucas’ breath, the furious drumming of his pulse, the flinches he’s tried so hard to cover up. Eliott’s noticed every single one of them, often pausing to suggest for them to stop only for Lucas to hold him by the sides of his face and mutter a determined, keep going.

Back then he couldn’t figure out if there’s a story behind it, or if Lucas is only nervous about being intimate with someone else. Now that he knows, can extrapolate the details from what Lucas has told him so far, Eliott’s heart is close to bursting with the realization of how much trust Lucas has placed in his hands that very first time. Of how much trust he continues to have in Eliott despite all that’s happened.

I love you, his touch speaks, lingering and light over the smooth skin of Lucas’ waist.

I love you, his eyes repeat, insistent, hopeless, as they meet Lucas’ wide, adoring gaze.

I love you, his mouth whispers, soundless against the brush of Lucas’ lips, plush softness falling open under the gentle touch of Eliott’s tongue.

I love you, he wants to say, out loud, with all his anxious, fragile heart but what comes out instead is a nearly inaudible, “You’re so beautiful.”

Maybe someday, he’ll be able to speak as it is. Someday, he’ll work up the courage to stop hiding behind soft touches and pretty words. But as Eliott opens his eyes on a slow blink, he looks down at Lucas and catches the most tender of smiles directed up at him. Maybe words aren’t needed right now. For Lucas, in this moment, maybe Eliott is enough.

“No, you,” Lucas retorts childishly, arching up to press a giggle into Eliott’s amused smile.

“This is a losing battle, baby.” Eliott nuzzles his cheeks, nose instinctively wrinkling when Lucas kisses the tip of it. The sweltering heat has cooled between them, replaced by a softer kind of warmth.

“Yeah, your losing battle,” Lucas says, trying to shift from under Eliott’s weight. “Baby,” he adds in a whisper, smile cheeky when Eliott’s head snaps up to look at him. He sputters, unfairly flustered at hearing Lucas use that pet name, any pet name in fact, for the first time—

“Are you being a brat?” Eliott tries to keep his voice stern, but he’s pretty sure his eyes give it away as Lucas dissolves into helpless giggles. “Are you being a brat?” he repeats a little louder, hands splayed widely over Lucas’ sides, curling up where his boyfriend is most ticklish.

“No!” But it’s too late, Eliott’s already found his weakest spots and proceeds with the attack, relentless despite Lucas’ half formed begging in between his laughter. “Eliott, no! Wait!” he squeaks, turning red when one of Eliott’s hands slide up to tickle at his neck.

Eliott only stops when Lucas, breathless and teary-eyed, pouts pitifully up at him. Honestly, what human being with a heart could resist that? So he leans down and brings the jut of Lucas’ bottom lip in between his teeth, waiting until his boyfriend opens his mouth on a groan before diving in for a kiss. Lucas’ hands immediately tangle themselves into Eliott’s hair, legs pulling up to wrap around him as if Eliott has any batshit plans of leaving the bed any time soon. Eliott’s shirt is halfway off his back when Lucas’ door creaks open.

They barely let up, both expecting to see Yann coming to interrupt them for whatever reason but the entry way is empty.

“What—”

Soft, fast-paced panting is their answer and Eliott’s completely unprepared for when Lucas shoves him off the bed with all his might— Eliott hangs onto the sheets to keep from cracking his head open.

“Oh shit, sorry!” Lucas shouts, dragging Eliott back up to the center of the bed. “I just— Champ’s just a baby, she can’t see that!”

Eliott doesn’t know whether to agree or laugh. He figures responding with a deadpan she’s just a dog won’t go over too well with Lucas so he keeps that thought to himself. With a sigh, Eliott smooths down his shirt and walks over to where Champ is still panting happily up at them.

“Are you happy now?” He asks the dog, crouching closer to her level and tapping her tiny nose with a finger. He carries her in his arms on his way out to the living room, turning back to see Lucas attempting to fix his hair as if Yann doesn’t already know what they’ve been up to, alone in the room for at least half an hour. “Come on, baby, let’s keep Yann company before he decides to take back my rights.”

#skam france #elu fic #elu insta au #fictag #there are about 20 variations of this chapter #lays down #chapter warning: ch11 flashback #the eliott pov i've been hiding

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welcometocaritas · 5 years ago

Text

‘if you love me, don’t let go...’

First chapter of my yumagna fic is out ladies and gentlebabies!

Chapter: 1/6

Characters: Yumiko & Magna

Pairing: Yumagna

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Format: Multi-Chap

Summary: At some point, you just have to let go - or so Yumiko keeps telling herself.There was never any letting go of Magna.

Links: A03, FF.NET

[watermark is from my instagram yumagnas.home don’t worry i didn’t steal the pic ;)]

A/N:

[The rape/non-con is there for Magna's cousin and it will only ever be in references I will not be writing anything detailed about it because I don't want to trigger anyone and this isn't the story for writing about something like that as I would not be able to give it the time and attention it deserves]

Small note: Magna's cousin is called Maisie in this and I've also given her a brother called Morgan.

y'all are going to hate me because yes, this is going to be over 20000 words about a single night. And probably not even the whole night. but there's also flashbacks so it's OK? In my defense, we've gotten very few conversations with these two so there was a lot to talk about. I can't be held responsible for my actions. blame the writers.

I’m honestly a little worried that I’m going to bore people to tears because there’s really no plot. It’s just yumagna being soft and finally sorting out their shit.

I'm also working on a short oneshot - for real this time it's actually going to be short - that's set in the indeterminate future after this. It's basically just going to be pure fluff which you should knew is unheard of - I never write fluff. So hopefully it's not terrible.

There be angst here, lots of angst, but also comfort - if you’re familiar with my writing that won’t be a surprise to you.

I don’t have much hope for canon so I decided to do what I could to fix the mess they made.

I normally wouldn’t reveal anything that’s going to happen in a fic but y’all have been tortured enough already so just know I will absolutely be getting these girls back together, it won’t take more than a night, but it will take about 20000 words. Most of the story is written out already I’m just doing post-edits so I’ll update daily :)

If things seem a little disjointed it’s because I wrote everything out of order and it’s been a bit of a struggle to get everything to fit into place. I also haven’t slept more than 1-4 hours a night for the past three weeks, have been getting constant migraines and blood sugar crashes so I’m gonna apologize right now if there are any mistakes. I’m super sorry.

This is for the yumagna fandom cos I wanted y'all to have something nice with everything that's going on. I would also like to give a special thanks to Abbey and Mina who acted as my sounding board throughout this whole thing and were very patient with me - love you guys :)

....

"If you love me, don't let go

Hold

Hold on

Hold on to me

'Cause I'm a little unsteady

A little unsteady . . . "

- Unsteady by X Ambassadors

. . .

Nightmares had always been an issue, though less so in recent years. Magna had gotten almost gotten used to having a full night's sleep, barring the occasional pillow snatch. Back before all this started, she'd been on medication for PTSD, but well, it was kind of hard to fill a prescription in the middle of the apocalypse - and, well, the apocalypse had only added to the previous need for said medication. At least she was in good company. These days, it was more of a surprise if someone wasn't experiencing some form of post-traumatic stress, and that was a somewhat odd reality to wake up in, day after day. For years, this thing had set her apart but now? Now it just made her like everyone else.

Miko had nightmares too.

It was what had led to them sharing a 'bed' in the first place, way before things between them moved beyond the confines of friendship. They'd fallen asleep by the fire one particularly cold night, curled around each other for warmth, and they hadn't awoken until morning.

It had been something of a revelation.

On Magna's end, she suspected it had had a lot to do with trust. She'd trusted Miko not to shove a shiv into her side or try to cop a feel whilst she slept, trusted her even more to have her back if things went south during the night. She'd been . . . safe. Magna wasn't used to people being safe - she wasn't quite sure what she offered Miko in return, though; maybe the same thing.

Of course, in many ways Yumiko wasn't safe. There was nothing safe about the way Magna felt about her. Or the way those feelings seemed to be returned. She knew Miko had had a girlfriend in college who cheated - and when the other woman had told her that, a vindictive part of her had hoped the bitch had been one of the many, many people to meet their end by sicko teeth. Miko had smacked her on the arm for that comment, exasperation tempered by fondness and reluctant amusement.

She'd realized in her time away, that this past hurt would have only sharpened Magna's betrayal. Trust was important to Miko - hell, it was important to Magna - and she had broken hers by lying, lying for years. She hadn't thought of it that way when she'd been doing it. The secret had weighed on her, yes, but she'd been viewing it from a place of hadn't really considered how it would hurt Miko, only what it would do to their relationship if it had ever come out, what it would do to her.

That, more than anything, had made her realize that Miko had been right to kick her out. More than right.

Which is why she could hardly believe that they were here now. That Miko was letting her head rest in her lap, that she had invited her to do so. Sitting back against a tree and patting her thigh with a small smile her way when Magna had gone to settle a short distance off. The way she had nearly fallen over herself to accept that invitation was almost embarrassing but she couldn't bring herself to feel self-conscious about it, or to second guess the action. They'd done this as friends too and she was glad it wasn't something she had sacrificed with their relationship.

She'd been attracted to Yumiko from the moment they met. It was hard not to be. She wasn't blind - hot lawyer lady in a suit, how could she not notice her in that way? The woman had entered into her dilapidated life with a sureness and determination that was hard to dismiss. Intelligent, strong, and fighting for her.

No one had ever fought for Magna. Not until Miko.

(really, she'd been screwed from the start)

Of course, the person Yumiko was fighting for was little more than an illusion. If Miko had only known the truth then . . .

She probably would have dropped her like a hot potato, just like everybody else. She probably would have been wise to.

Or maybe she wasn't giving Miko enough credit. After all, she was still here now. Carding her hand through Magna's hair in a soothing motion as she pretended to sleep - and Miko pretended to believe her. She knew the truth now, and still she kept close. Maybe they weren't together anymore but that had been as much Magna's choice as Miko's. She couldn't let herself get to that place again, where she was so terrified of losing something, she ended up destroying it.

And God, Magna was so tired, so tired of being afraid, so tired of being angry.

Just so tired.

('I can't do this anymore.')

She needed a distance between them, even if she didn't want it. Romantic relationships had a tendency to blow up in her face. But friendships . . . well, they tended to be more reliable. After all, she had been friends with Miko for years and things only turned sour after they had crossed over the safety of that border into something more.

(things turned sour because you couldn't stand keeping it a secret from her anymore. The same thing would have happened if you'd still been only friends)

She shifted uncomfortably, remembering at the last second that she was supposed to be asleep. But Miko only stilled a moment before continuing with her motions, allowing the deception to maintain itself.

The relief passed her lips in a shaky exhale.

Magna couldn't bring herself to talk anymore. She was drained - both emotionally and physically - and the thought of pulling any more words out almost made her cry from exhaustion. And Miko seemed to sense that, almost as soon as Magna had first fallen silent. But then, she'd always been good at reading her.

She was observant. Like Connie.

Squeezing her eyes shut tighter, she immediately regretted the action. In the darkness, all she saw was her friend's face, disappearing into the crowd of sickos, possibly never to be seen again. Of course, Magna hadn't seen that at all. She'd kept her gaze ahead, too wary to look around and give away the disguise, but she had felt Connie's hand slip from hers, the ache of the empty space it left behind. Her imagination filled in the blanks now, even adding in a few colorful extras - wide eyes, a silent scream, falling beneath the weight of too many bodies, torn apart. Gone.

So many people were just . . . gone.

"Do you think she survived?" The words hung in the night air; foreign, distant. Magna blinked, unsure if they'd really come from her. She couldn't remember opening her mouth. But her tongue felt thick and heavy, her lips cracked, she could taste the metallic hint of blood caused by the effort.

Miko paused. Just a second, her fingers tangling in Magna's hair a little too tight, almost painful, then a breath, and she returned to smoothing it back. "You did."

"Barely. I was lucky."

"And there's no reason she won't be, too. Connie's smart, strong. She could make it."

Magna could think of a hundred reasons. A thousand.

Her stomach turned and she closed her eyes, opening them in a snap when Connie's face answered her. She trembled. "I should have stopped. I should have looked for her."

Miko didn't hesitate. "Then you'd be dead. Might even have gotten her killed as well. All for nothing."

At least, I wouldn 't be feeling like this.

Magna opened her mouth to argue but found that she didn't have the strength. She closed her eyes again, inhaling the scent of the woods, of the leaves and dirt beneath their bodies, of Miko. Especially Miko. "What the hell am I going to say to Kelly?"

If she wasn't dead.

What if they were the only ones left? Her and Miko. Bernie gone. Connie gone. Kelly gone. Luke gone. She'd failed to protect them. All of them.

And she'd thought she'd cried enough tears but her eyes burned and she rubbed at them fiercely, like there was dirt, like if she could just get it out the fire would vanish and she wouldn't crumble to ashes in its grip.

And there was Miko's voice, all at once gentle and firm, pulling her back. "She won't blame you. She knows you. You've always fought hard for us. As hard as you can. This just wasn't a situation in which you could."

Magna nearly scoffed.

No, she could have fought. But she'd gotten scared. She'd hesitated. She hated being fucking scared (small and shaking, hugging Morgan to her chest as Daddy's voice got loud, so loud, why was it so loud?). It was such a useless emotion. And now it had probably gotten Connie killed.

Miko tugged at her hair slightly, gentle but scolding. "Seriously, Magna. You couldn't have done anything. If anyone should be feeling guilty it's me."

Frowning, she turned her head in her grip to look up, a strand of hair snagged but she didn't mind the pain. "What are you talking about?"

But Miko shook her head, refusing to meet her gaze as she focused on raking her hands through Magna's hair, avoiding the knots with an ease born of years of practice. "I should have been there with you. I shouldn't have stayed behind that day."

And then you might be dead, too. Magna shuddered at the thought. Her worst fear, worse than Miko choosing to leave her, being taken from her. Forever.

And it wasn't even a what-if situation. It felt inevitable. This was the apocalypse: their expiration dates were always inching closer.

"I'm glad you did." Even though Magna couldn't see her face, she sensed her hurt, felt the flinch of her hand. "I couldn't lose you. Not like that."

Giving up on getting Miko to look at her, she settled back in her lap but kept her eyes open.

Yumiko's voice was caustic when she responded, fragile and harsh all at once. "I thought I lost you." The hand resumed its stroking, stiffer now, almost angry. "At least if I had been there I could have helped, and I would have known. I would have known if you were okay."

Not if you got out with Kelly.

But, no, Miko wouldn't have left them, wouldn't have left her. She would have seen her double back with Connie and gone after her too - like Magna, she was always watching. Maybe she would even have noticed and gone after Connie first - she was equally as protective of their group - and then Magna would have been the one left behind, to wonder, to fear.

Thinking about it, that probably would have driven her to punch Carol, too. Though her fuse had always been a lot shorter than Miko's.

Now, she snorted at the sudden memory. "I can't believe you punched Carol. I've never seen you like that." In a way, it had scared her. She was so used to Miko being the calm one, forever in control. She was the one who reined Magna in.

Okay, it had also been kind of hot. Even half-dead on her feet, she couldn't fail to notice that.

"To be honest, neither can I." There was a wry note to the older woman's tone, and Magna wondered if she was smiling, almost risked looking up again to find out. "I don't regret it, if that's what you're wondering."

"Not like you to kick a dog when it's down."

"Not like you to be so forgiving."

She scoffed. "I'm not. Connie's gone. Probably dead and she-" Magna swallowed, collecting herself. "I'm not forgiving. I just don't have the energy to be angry anymore."

"Well that's definitely not like you." Miko teased, hesitating for a moment before severity bled back into her tone. "Are you going to be okay?"

She closed her eyes, sighed. Why was she so good? "You don't have to worry about me, Miko."

Scoff. "Another lie. I found a grey hair the other day, thanks to you."

"Oh and it couldn't have possibly been the literal end of days that we're stuck in?"

"Have you met you?" Another tug at her hair, this time playful and, for a moment, Magna could breathe easier. "Seriously, though, are you going to be okay?"

For a moment.

She shifted, hair pulling painfully but that was almost welcome. "I'll be fine. I'll be a lot better once we find Kelly and Luke."

"And Connie."

"And Connie." She wished she could feel more hopeful on that front. Miko squeezed her shoulder and she relaxed slightly, trying to push the dark thoughts away for now. There'd been too many of them tonight already. There were always too many. But just for tonight she wanted to escape them, to hide away in Miko's lap and absorb every touch, every smell, every word . . . that she had come so close to never experiencing again.

. . .

"How can you lose me? You've owned me from the first moment I saw you."

― Dianna Hardy, Cry Of The Wolf

. . .

The full gravity of the world ending fell upon Yumiko within a matter of hours, there'd been no time to trivialize or hope. Right from the start, she'd felt the impact.

Her mother had been a doctor in the old world and she'd been working a shift at the hospital when the outbreak hit the city and surrounding areas. Yumiko's stomach still turned at the memory of calling her up from the safety of Magna's apartment, her eyes trained on the insanity playing out across every news station, her heart pounding as she pleaded, pleaded for the other woman to pick up, to be alright, to-

But the phone had rung and rung. One, two, twelve phone calls later and nothing.

----

Unable to sit and wait any longer, Yumiko swiped her abandoned keys off the table and marched towards the door, ready to drive over there right that second and make her mother okay. She was smart, her mother was smart, and resourceful, and she'd never stopped practicing krav maga - and Yumiko would definitely come to regret refusing all those classes the woman had tried to get her to enroll in growing up but she 'd been focused on her books and her studies and all her dreams for a future that fighting never entered into-

Her mother would be fine .

But a hand grabbed hers - strong, nails almost biting into her skin - and pulled her back. "You can't go out there."

Magna.

At some point, she 'd forgotten the other woman was even there, just whose home she stood barricaded within.

"I have to get to the hospital, my mother she-"

"Yumiko, you saw the news - hell, you just almost got your face bitten off by one of those sickos - the world's fucking lost it. " Her face took on an expression of incredulity. "And you want to go to the fucking hospital? No, no way."

Yumiko clenched her jaw, trying not to snap. "She's my mother. I need to make sure she's okay."

"I know, OK? Trust me I get it but . . ." she took a breath, frustrated and Yumiko could detect an air of desperation in the way she closed her eyes, pressed her lips together. "But you just, you can't, okay? They said that part of the city is already overrun and it's a hospital . The amount of people in there, dying people . . . it's a death trap."

Yumiko looked away, knowing she was right but unwilling to face it. It was her mother .

For a spiteful moment, she wondered whether Magna really did 'get it'. As far as she knew, the other woman hadn't visited her own mother since she was a child. Yumiko didn't even know if she was still alive - or if Magna knew for that matter.

"Look, I . . . " Magna shook her head. "If I thought that it could work, that we'd be able to help, hell even be able to get in there, I would drive you myself."

"You don't have a license." She wasn 't sure why she said it, why out of all the things Magna was saying, that had stuck out the most. But it was the only thing she had the means to protest.

Magna huffed. "Fine, I'd let you drive but that-that's not the point. Miko, we don't even know how to kill these things. I stabbed that guy in the neck and he barely even flinched. The dead are eating people, I can't . . ." She shook her head, lost for words. "I can't protect you from that."

Yumiko cursed the way those words made her stomach flip - not the time. Her phone felt heavy in her pocket, useless, and her mind was a violent hellscape, tossing up image after image of all the situations that could be keeping her mother from answering but . . .

Fuck it.

She was right.

The world shook for a moment, shaky legs almost falling out from under her as she allowed herself to sink down onto the floor, hiding her head in her hands. She was right . The darkness made everything still and she could imagine for a moment that this wasn't really happening, that it was just some big nightmare, that-

People were fucking eating people, for god's sakes. Dead people. How could this be real?

There was a pause, the sound of shuffling, and she felt a stiff form settle down beside her. Hesitantly, an arm came around her, too lose, too distant, but there. "I'm sorry."

Yumiko shook her head, forgetting entirely Magna's discomfort when it came to any kind of physical intimacy - hell, any kind of intimacy in general - and allowed herself to collapse. Falling into her, she buried her head in the other woman's chest, hands coming up to latch onto the fabric of her shirt, desperate for something, anything to hold onto.

Magna flinched and her body became like a rock, rebelling at every place of contact between them.

Remembering herself, Yumiko moved to withdraw, "Shit, sorry, I-" but the arm around her tightened, keeping her in place. Slowly, she felt the muscles against her force themselves to relax as that arm found a surer purchase, pulling her closer. After a moment, she felt the slight weight of a chin coming to rest on her head, a hand coming up to find one of hers. Disentangling Yumiko 's almost rabid hold, they wrapped around her and squeezed, held tight and this-

This was better.

"Stay."

She did.

. . .

"I am your friend. a soul for your soul. a place for your life. home. know this. sun or water. here or away. we are a lighthouse. we leave. and we stay."

― Nayyirah Waheed

. . .

Magna knew that Miko's upbringing had been a fair bit more stable than hers. Parents divorced at nine, yes, but that was terribly common wasn't it? (and neither of them had tried to shoot the other.) She'd graduated at the top of her class, whilst Magna had been kicked out of three schools for fighting before her aunt and uncle had given up and stopped sending her. It wasn't a huge loss. The only classes she'd been doing well in were art and P.E. And whilst she had missed those it was a relief to get away from the taunting students and judgmental teachers.

Considering her criminal record that kept her from working at anything other than a seedy truck stop with its overly handsy customers, that had probably worked out for the best. Good grades wouldn't have been of any help to her by then.

She still laughed sometimes at the memory of Miko popping by on her shifts, how out of place she'd looked, sitting on a rickety stool behind the counter whilst Magna tended customers, still dressed in a suit from work that never seemed to wrinkle.

The pair of them had garnered more than a few looks.

But Miko had been at ease with it, picking at her fries - the only food on the menu that would probably pass a health inspection - making small talk, interjecting with the occasional complaint about Jerry, the company vulture, who kept trying to steal her clients. Magna had been confused by the attention, wary even. She'd wondered if the lawyer checked up on all her former clients like this, or if she was just a special case. She hadn't asked - she hadn't wanted to know the answer, to face the inevitable 'yes'.

A part of her had wanted to scare her off, had hated the way she got instantly on edge as soon as she saw Miko's form enter in the door, the way she felt even worse when she watched her leave out it. But another, more secret part, had been starved for company; the kind that didn't make her want to punch someone, anyway. So she'd held her tongue, and slowly let down her defenses.

Until one night, a trucker had gone to bite a chunk out of Miko's face.

It had been her turn to work the truck stop diner connected to the store, and Yumiko had been leaning against the counter, nursing a cup of too-sweet hot chocolate and conversing with her between customers. She'd just glanced down at her phone after hearing a ping and Magna had looked up at the sound, glimpsed the man lumbering closer, closer - too close.

She'd never been so glad of the quick reflexes life had beaten into her, because in that moment she hadn't needed to think. She'd shoved Miko back, a little too forcefully since she ended up hitting the ground with a smack that made Magna wince - but it was enough.

Her hand had been grabbing the knife from beneath the bench before she even registered, her arm jolting with the shock of sinking it into flesh that gave way too easily as she leapt across the counter, blood spattering against her face in a terrible sort of deja vu, her stomach turning - fuck fuck fuck - but he didn't fall, didn't scream; and then she'd grabbed Miko, tugged her up and ran, ears howling with the sound of all hell breaking loose around them. The police sirens in her head hadn't been real, she'd known they weren't, they couldn't be, not this soon, but her heart pounded in her chest from more than just adrenaline and fuck-

She'd done it again.

And just when she was finally starting to get used to freedom.

She hadn't realized until later that night, hauled up in her apartment - it had been closest and neither of them had really wanted to be alone after that - and watching the actual End of Days unfold on international television, that it had been the first time they'd touched. Magna had always kept a certain level of distance and Miko had never tried to cross it. Not until later that night, when Magna had reached out to stop her from leaving, when she'd collapsed into her arms with an ease that made Magna want to run out the door instead . . . and later when Miko grabbed her hand as she was heading to bed. It was just a moment, just a brief squeeze accompanied by a weak but grateful smile - but Magna had felt her heart try to escape her chest at that smile, at that touch . . .

It had just been a push. Barely anything compared to getting someone out of jail at least twelve years - though more likely an entire lifetime - earlier than expected. Especially when she still hadn't known that the person she'd been fighting so hard to free wasn't nearly as innocent as she'd assumed.

Somehow, the most surprising event of the night, was that Magna hadn't minded the touch, hadn't pulled away. More shocking, she'd missed it when it was gone; had felt empty each time Miko left her grasp, yearning to reach out and-

And that was when Magna had known she was screwed.

Miko told her that she'd known the same thing sometime around the third day of planning their trial strategy.

Thirteen years later and they were still pretty screwed.

. . .

"I've spent much too long in the space between staying and letting go."

- Perry Poetry

. . .

A/N: So this story has turned out to be a lot more Magna-centric then intended and that's not because I love Yumiko any less, I just find it easier to get inside the heads of characters like Magna. I'm used to writing somewhat dysfunctional people with more than a bit of trauma (probably cos I have a bit of trauma of my own lol). You know, the loveable walking disasters of the world. She might come off a bit ooc in this and that's partly because I'm still familiarizing myself with writing her and because she's a tad bit fragile after everything that's happened, which i think we all saw in last episode - Miko is also feeling pretty fragile for the same reason. Speaking of which. What. The. Fuck. It makes zero sense to me that these two would make up but still not get back together and I'm gonna sue the writers for torture if this keeps going on. So I had to write a fix-it fic. And I also felt like there was a lot these two still needed to talk about that I'm not entirely confident the show will ever address so voila a fic was made.

Also, just gonna note going forth that Magna’s own feelings about herself aren’t necessarily a reflection of my own feelings about her character. Girl’s got some insecurities to sort through. Likewise, her judgments - good and bad - about Yumiko aren’t necessarily true, either, for the same reason. It’s one of the causes for conflict in their relationship.

So there are probably two ways to look at how these two might have noticed they had feelings for each other: a) these two idiots have been in love for 13 years and were both too chicken and oblivious to do do anything about it, or b) their love developed slowly from the bonds of friendship over a very long time. I like both options but I decided to go with the former for this fic.

The series titles is from the song You by Keaton Henson. If you're familiar with the song - my Lost Girl buddies will be - don't worry nobody is going to die! that line just really fits them so much, and it's also about accepting the fact that you might lose the one you love but that doesn't mean you should be afraid of loving them or living your life.

. . .

OK, just gonna do a little shameless self-promotion, hope you don't mind :)

I made a yumagna vid so if you haven't seen it already and you're interested it's here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grzrpr0QZEE (I'm gonna do more so if you want to stay in the loop subscribe to my youtube channel. I'll probs end up doing a short one for Unsteady because of this fic but I'm holding out till we get a yumagna hug)

I have an insta for yumagna called @yumagnas.home . my multifandom one is @bonnielextra (lots of awesome women that i make edits for just fyi) and my personal one is @cissyalice. Hit me up so I can follow some more yumagna stans!

My twitter is @bonnielextra and @welcometocaritas (for my edits). Currently just a lot of crying about yumagna on the first one.

And my tumblr is welcometocaritas. Obviously no pressure to look at any of these but I just thought I'd put them in just case :)

#yumagna #magniko #the walking dead #nadia hilker #eleanor matsuura #yumagna edit #yumagna fanfic #magna twd #yumiko #yumiko twd #mypost #My posts #myfic #my fic #my edit #myedit

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lostinshawnsmemory · 5 years ago

Text

Figure You Out: Chapter 4 - Shawn x African OC

A/N: I would like to apologise for how long it’s been since you saw Shawn and Tolani. Life just gets in the way you know? That being said, they are back with a vengeance.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warning(s): None

MASTERLIST

Series Masterlsit

Fic Playlist

“How was the date with coffee boy?”

Tolani stopped, her fork halfway to her mouth. Desire had insisted that she joined her, Nicole and Kyle for lunch on campus during their collective free period and there was no way she could get out of it. “We haven’t hung out as a group since that night.” she had whined. “That was a week ago. I mean we all live together.”

“Umm. Coffee boy is fineee.” Tolani shrugged drawing out the ‘fine’. “Just fine?” Desire asked with a raised eyebrow. “You looked so excited before you left yesterday and we didn’t catch you at the cinema so it must have been good.” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“You’re dating!” Nicole squealed. “Nope.” Tolani shook her head. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“What’s wrong with dating?”

“Firstly, one coffee date doesn’t mean I’m ‘dating’. ” Tolani said raising her hands to put the words dating in air quotations. “Second of all, I didn’t come all the way here to meet a boy. I have shit to do.” Tolani huffed, signalling the end of the conversation.

“You know we didn’t ask you to come out just to ask about your coffee date right?” Nicole looked at her. “We want to hang out with you and get to know you.”

“Yeah.” Kyle added. They’d crossed paths a few more times after ‘liongate’ as she was calling it. After that comment, she’d been incredibly wary of him and even though she wouldn’t call him a friend anytime soon, he was someone that Desire spent a lot of time with and because of that, she was willing to give him a chance. “We want to be here for you.”

The sentiment was sweet if not a little premature. Tolani knew that they were being nice and wanted to get to know her, but she just didn’t feel 100% comfortable around them yet. It took a while before she warmed to people, save for a certain curly-haired singer who knew more about her than anyone in the city, though that wasn’t saying much when she took into account how many people she actually knew in Toronto.

“The date with coffee boy was good.” Tolani smiled thinking back to her coffee date with Shawn and the subsequent car ride date if you could call it that. “We talked about life and music. You know casual first date stuff.” “You said the word date!” Nicole observed winking at Tolani “And you were clearly out of your comfort zone and I for one am happy about it.” she sipped on her drink. “It was…. nice.” Tolani muttered staring at her meal as if the answers to the universe’s deepest questions were in her pasta salad. “He’s cute.” she shrugged.

“Look at you divulging information” Desire said with a raised eyebrow, “I thought I would have to threaten you for you to tell us anything.” Tolani playfully elbowed her. “I share things with you guys.”

“Yeah right.” the two girls scoffed in unison. “You actually have to be around to share things with us.” Desire noted, “And to add on to what I said earlier, it’s been donkey's years since we’ve seen you.”

“Shut up!” Tolani rolled her eyes, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. It felt good to have banter like this. This was what making friends and building relationships looked and felt like. The only other person she felt like this around was Shawn and while she liked having banter with him, she knew that she couldn’t rely on that alone. She needed her own friends, people she could joke around with and be herself around.

“Oh, I was going to tell you!” Nicole screamed startling everyone at the table. “You know how you were flirting with Shawn Mendes that night?” For the second time in less than an hour, Tolani’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth. “Yeah...” she said trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible.

“Apparently he was seen riding around with a girl in his car.” When the words hit homeTolani’s stomach dropped and she was flooded with numerous emotions, the primary ones being anger and jealousy that Shawn was with someone else. "What?!” Her and Shawn were not involved romantically and he had a right to do whatever he wanted. Tolani knew that but she couldn’t deny that the feelings were there. “When?” she asked with trepidation.

“A few days ago, here I’ll show you the photo.” Nicole took her phone out of her bag, it took a few seconds for her to pull up the photo but those seconds felt like hours. Eventually, she turned her phone around and showed everyone the photo in question. When she saw the photo, Tolani was immediately filled with relief, but that feeling was then taken over by a new one, dread. The photo Nicole was talking about, was a photo of the two of them when they were out driving, but you couldn’t tell it was her due to the angle of the photo. The comments under the photo were full of conjecture. Everyone wanted to know who the girl was. Some speculated that the girl in the photo was someone on his team, others were sure Shawn had a girlfriend, while others stated that she was just a friend. And some people were certain they knew who it was and kept name-dropping her.

The saving grace was that no one had mentioned her name. ‘Hopefully, everyone has moved on from me.’ Tolani thought making a mental note to check her Instagram comment section and DMs that she’d been purposefully ignoring.

“This is from a fan account.” Kyle noted, “You follow Shawn Mendes fan accounts?”

Nicole nodded “It’s all over social media. Shawn is notoriously single and whenever he’s with a girl, the internet goes wild. That being said, I’m a huge fan. I’m actually seeing him in a few weeks.” She then turned to Tolani “You should come with me!”

“I don’t knowww” Tolani shrugged dragging her words. “Won’t it be sold out?“ “I’m sure we’ll figure something out. Maybe you’ll run into him again.” Nicole winked, referencing their initial meeting. “Still can’t believe that happened.” Tolani felt her cheeks warming. “Yeah, it would be crazy to see him again after that night.” She hadn’t told her friends about the two separate times she’d met Shawn. She wracked her brain for anything she could use to change the topic of conversation and was eternally grateful when her phone beeped letting her know she had to leave for a seminar starting 10 minutes. “Sorry guys, I’ve got to go, I have a seminar on microeconomics in 10.” ‘Saved by the bell.’ she thought as she picked up her bag and walked away.

——————————————————————————————-

Tolani walked into her first seminar of the school year feeling a little nervous. Lectures were easy to manoeuvre, you sat there in silence and left when it was over. Seminars were different. As far as she knew they were much smaller groups that encouraged talking. This was where she struggled. Tolani was the kind of person who only spoke when she was comfortable and there was no way she was comfortable enough to speak freely in a room filled with people she didn’t know. These were the times she wished she had a friend she could go with, alas none of the friends she did have did the same degree as her. So she sat in the back row, hoping that the class would go by without consequence and she could go about her business.

A little while later a woman walked into the room and stood by the board. “Hi my name is Kirsty Morten, but you guys can call me Kirsty and I’m going to be your seminar tutor.” she was a younger woman, much younger than Tolani anticipated, with kind eyes and a warm smile. “Okay so before we dive into microeconomics and what that is, I’m going to go over the register and try to put some names to the faces. Okay?” Her statement was met with an unenthusiastic “okay” from everyone in the room.

Kirsty then proceeded to read out the names on the register without consequence until she came to Tolani’s name. “Oh, we’ve got a hard one. Okay. Umm. Toh- Tow- Wow this is hard to pronounce.”

“I usually go by T” Tolani’s voice rang out from the back of the room. She felt everyone’s eyes on her as Kirsty said “That’s so much easier to pronounce.” ‘I’m sure it is’ she thought mentally rolling her eyes. She knew that her name being butchered was to be expected but it didn’t make it any less jarring or cringy.

Tolani zoned out while Kirsty read out more names, that was until she heard a name she was familiar with. Her head snapped up when she heard Kirsty’s interpretation of the name. “Oh, we’ve got another difficult name here.” she chuckled nervously “Tow- uh- Toh- wow.” “Tomiwa.” he said deadpan, clearly displeased by the situation.

She scanned the room to see where the voice came from. Her eyes landed on a fade in the middle of the room, 3 rows ahead of her and even though she couldn’t see him, she felt a kinship with him. Having someone butcher your name was not fun.

The rest of the class went by without incident, it was also incredibly boring. Introduction to Microeconomics was just that, learning about Supply and Demand and Consumer Behaviour, all the things she’d learnt about already. That meant she spent most of her time staring into space, so much so that she didn’t notice when class was over till she felt someone tap her on her shoulder. Tolani turned to find Tomiwa smiling at her, she knew it was him because she recognised his hair. He was the only one in their class with a fade so it was definitely him.

“Hi T” his voice was husky, his accent familiar. It was a lot like hers but lighter as if it was fading. “Hi. Tomiwa right?” He smiled when she pronounced his name the right way. “You don’t know how good it feels to hear someone other than my immediate family and a few friends pronounce my name correctly.”

“I know what you mean. That’s why I just go by T. It’s so much easier than having people try to pronounce your name and fail woefully.” She hadn’t told anyone why she introduced herself as T and it felt good to have someone who understood the sentiment.

“What does T mean?” he asked.

“Tolani.”

“Tolani.” he repeated nodding his head. “Tolani and Tomiwa, T & T. Now we have to be friends, I mean we're both Yoruba and the first letter of our names are the same, it’s in the constitution.” “Slow your roll.” Tolani laughed holding up her hand. “You haven’t passed the test yet. I have numerous questions.” “Oh shit! There’s a test. Alright then.”

A few minutes later the two of them were seated on one of the many conveniently placed park benches littered on the York University campus. “Are you from Lagos?” Tolani asked placing her backpack by her feet.

“I am, but I moved here a few years ago just before high school and haven’t been back since. What about you?”

“Born and raised all my life. I only moved here just before school started.” she paused “Do you miss it?”

“Lagos?” he asked, there was a touch of sadness in his voice. “Yeah, I do. I love living in Toronto don't get me wrong, but there’s no place like home you know?” When Tolani nodded he continued “It’s hard to explain but there's something about living in Lagos. There’s this indescribable energy, almost like a sense of-”

“Chaos.” they said in unison.

“Exactly!!” Tomiwa cheered. “You get it.”

“I had to describe what Lagos was like, to someone who’s never been there and I struggled. It’s so hard to accurately describe. You have to go there and see it to understand.”

“You don’t have to explain it to me, I get it.”

“It’s nice to talk to someone that does.” Even though they’d just met, Tolani felt a connection with Tomiwa. She’d felt out of place since she’d arrived in Toronto and it felt really good to talk to someone who understood where she was coming from.

“Okay. I have a serious question. Where can I get Nigerian food cause it’s been a hot minute since I’ve eaten Jollof rice and I need it.”

“You can’t make it?” Tomiwa said with a raised eyebrow and a sceptical tone.

“I can!” Tolani replied sounding defensive, her Jollof rice was amazing if she did say so herself. “It’s just that it takes a while and I live with other people in a pretty crowded kitchen soo.”

“Fair enough. There a restaurant called Mamaland on Lansdowne Ave. Their food is amazing. We should go some time.”

“Yes please!”

“And if you ever want to make it, you can always come round to mine.” He gave her a small smile.

“One day I’ll take you up on that offer.” Even though his invitation was definitely on the forward side, Tolani appreciated the offer and stored it away. “Emphasis on ‘one day’ though,” she added.

“So can we consider ourselves friends now.?”

“Like is said” Tolani replied with a smirk “There’s a test.”

“Hit me”

—————————————————————————————

“I can’t believe you have never been to EatDrinkFestival* you’re cancelled!” Tolani exclaimed, shock evident on her face. “How can I be cancelled for that!” Tomiwa rolled his eyes at her. “Cause I said so.” Tolani fired back. The two looked at each other before laughing. They were currently walking out of their microeconomic seminar. They’d been spending a lot of time together since they met, having coffee together before class and even sat next to each other. It felt really good to finally have someone Tolani could truly call her friend. She considered Desire and Nicole friends but there was a disconnect there, while Tomiwa understood her from the jump. It felt like they’d been friends for years rather than a week.

“I just never got around to going before I moved.” Tomiwa shrugged. “It’s amazing!” Tolani replied. “You get to go and try so much incredible food. I’ve gone the last few years and had a great time.” There was a sense of sudden melancholy in her voice. She didn’t know when she would go home next, she hadn't talked about it with her parents. The thought of not going home for a while made her sad.

“I’m sure there’s a food festival in Toronto we could go to.”

Tolani looked at her friend and snapped out of her funk. “True, even though it won’t be the same, it’s bound to be amazing.”

Before Tomiwa could reply her phone rang the name on the screen making her smile. ‘Shawn’

“I’ve got to go.” Tolani started gathering her things. “My mum is calling.” That was the second time she’d lied to someone where Shawn was concerned and while she did feel bad about lying, there was a part of her that felt like the lies were warranted. It had been over a week she’d seen him, and communication between the two of them had been pretty sparse and seeing a call from him was a welcome surprise.

“Hi Shawn.” “Hi honey.” his voice sounded as in her ear as melodic as ever. As if she needed a reminder that even Shawn Mendes’ voice was attractive. “Honey? That’s new.” she thought. “So we’ve graduated from texts to phone calls now?”

“I mean we’ve shared music. We’re basically married.”

Tolani couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Speaking of music, how’s the playlist?” She’d been updating it constantly, adding more songs that she thought he would like.

“No word of a lie, I’ve pushed it on all of my friends. I can’t stop listening to it.” That was hard to imagine Shawn and his friends dancing to any of the songs in the playlist, seeing as Shawn was so against dancing as a whole. Tolani couldn’t deny that it would be hilarious and she would willingly pay money to see Shawn and his friends attempt to dance to a Davido song. “Yeah, Afrobeat has that effect on people.” she shrugged even though he couldn’t see it. “As much as I like our talks and you know I do, is there a reason for this phone call?”

“How about I just wanted to hear your voice?” Even though she couldn’t see him, she could tell that he was smirking. Tolani felt her cheeks getting warm. “Thank you Shawn, but I’m pretty sure that’s not why you called me.”

“You’re half right. I really did want to hear your voice, but I also wanted to invite you to a party I’m having on Friday night.”

“Oooh, a party.” Friday night that was two days from now.

“Whenever I’m home I like having a few people over at my place just to hang out. Nothing too crazy. Would you like to come?” Two words struck a chord with her, ‘My place’ meaning his house. If she went, she would be at his house. In his space. Her heart started beating quicker at the thought of being in his house. He was speaking but the words had blended into white noise in her ear until she heard the words “If you want.” which snapped her out of her reverie.

“Huh?”

“I said you could bring some friends I’ve if you want?” The thought of her friends being in the same space as him for an extended period of time stressed her out further, but she couldn't deny that the idea wasn’t a bad one. Tolani looked up at the sky considering the question until an idea popped into her head. “I’d love to bring a friend.” “Great!” Shawm sounded excited which in turn made her excited. “See you on Friday. Bye honey.” “Bye Shawn.”

She cut off the call and turned to Tomiwa, “How would you like to go to a party on Friday?”

——————————————————————————————-

By the time Friday had rolled around, Tolani was nervous. She didn’t know what to wear, so she decided on a black tank top and blue ripped jeans with a dark red lip, emulating a look she had on when they met.

Shawn had texted her his address and told her to come over at 9 o’clock. It was 8:45 and she was in an uber heading towards downtown Toronto. She made polite conversation with Tomiwa in the back but her mind wasn’t fully there. She was thinking about Shawn. Even though it had only been a week since she’d seen him, she was nervous to see him again, especially when she took into account the fact that she would be on his turf. Every time they’d met it had been on slightly neutral territory, even when she was in his car she felt comfortable, but being in someone’s home and car were not the same thing. She also had to take into account the fact that he would be with his friends and people had a tendency to act differently around their friends and she hoped that Shawn wasn’t like that.

Shawn lived in an apartment building close to the entertainment district. ‘Fitting,’ Tolani thought as she got out of the uber. Her and Tomiwa walked into the building and greeted the concierge and let him know that they were headed to Shawn’s apartment on the top floor. In the elevator, Tolani could hear her heart in her ears. She felt like she was going to throw up. She knew that there was no reason to feel that way but she couldn't help it.

By the time they got to Shawn's door, they could hear music, evidence that people were already there. When they got to Shawn’s door, she heard Tomiwa whistle under his breath, clearly impressed by what he’d seen of Shawn’s building. Tolani knocked on the door and they waited. While they waited, a thought crossed her mind, Tomiwa didn't know that the friend she was coming to see. He may be Shawn to her but he was still Shawn Mendes uber-famous pop star to everyone else and that was something she probably should have taken into consideration when she invited him. They waited outside and when there was no response, Tolani knocked on the door, louder than before, this time they only had to wait for a few seconds before the door opened and Shawn filled the doorway.

One thing Tolani had learnt in the short time she’d known Shawn was that he was a smiley person, that was why she wasn’t surprised when he beamed at her. He looked as gorgeous as ever in a black shirt, jeans and Chelsea boots. He wasn't even trying and he looked good. “T! I’m so glad you’re here!” he exclaimed, as he pulled her into a hug, ‘Great.’ Tolani thought, ‘He even smells good.’ They hugged for a few seconds even though it felt like it was closer to a minute when they broke apart. Tolani turned and indicated to Tomiwa and introduced him. “Shawn, this is my friend Tomiwa, Tomiwa this is Shawn.” It was then that Shawn turned to acknowledge her guest a look flashing across his features so fast she couldn’t decipher what it was. “Hi. Thanks for coming.” he said indicating that they should both go inside.

Walking into Shawn’s apartment felt like taking a look into Shawn’s mind. It was spacious, which in and of itself wasn’t surprising when she considered where he lived and how much it probably cost. He had a piano tucked into the corner and next to it was a guitar rack that held 5 guitars which again was not surprising. Apart from that, it was a pretty standard apartment, anyone could have lived there, the colour palette was pretty neutral with shades of blue and grey scattered around, but there were elements that were obviously Shawn. He had photos that she assumed were his family as well as photos of friends that she could recognise in the room. The thing that did surprise her was his view. Shawn had a balcony with a stunning view of the Toronto skyline. She stared at it for a few seconds before the noise in the room pulled her back. It sounded like a Post Malone song.

Tolani looked around and was catapulted back to the night she met Shawn. She’d awkward and out of place with her housemates and that was how she felt surrounded by Shawn’s friends. There were easily 50 people in the room and even though that number wasn’t very high, it was enough to make her feel uneasy. She knew that bringing a friend she was comfortable around was the right move.

The two got drinks and found a quiet corner to sit on Shawn’s huge white couch, Tolani with a coke and Tomiwa with a Corona. “You didn’t tell me you knew Shawn Mendes.” he stated looking at her with a shocked look on his face. Tolani took a sip of her drink and wished that she had something stronger. “Umm, yeah we met a while ago.” “How?” “We met at a coffee shop.” It wasn’t a total lie, they had met at a coffee shop, albeit a few days after they met at the bar but she didn’t feel like that part was relevant.

“That must have been a chance encounter, especially for you guys to be so close that he invited you to his house parties.” Before Tolani could answer she heard Shawn’s voice from across the room.

“T!” Shawn yelled over the sound of the music, “There are some people I want you to meet.” Tolani looked over to her friend who waved her off. “Go and mingle I’ll be fine.” She walked over toward the kitchen, it was a state of the art kitchen with an electric hob and an island that Shawn was leaning on. As she entered the space Tolani couldn’t help but think about how easy it would be to cook in that kind of kitchen and she wondered how often Shawn used it. “Here she is.” he said indicating to 3 of his friends when she was within earshot.

“Guys this is T. T this is, Brian and Jon. The one whose face is obscured by the camera is Connor.” “Hi.” Tolani waved somewhat awkwardly. “So you’re T, we’ve heard so much about .” Brain announced. He was almost as tall as Shawn and had red hair and mischievous eyes. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you.” Jon added. Much like Shawn, he had eyes that seemed to smile at her and she instantly felt comfortable around him.

The only person who hadn’t spoken was Connor. He looked like he was half paying attention to what was being said as he was more engrossed in the footage he had recorded. Connor was stunning he easily could’ve been a model and Tolani wouldn’t have been surprised if he was, he just had one of those faces.

“Shawn hasn’t stopped talking about you.” Brian teased at which point Connor nodded. Tolani turned to Shawn with a raised eyebrow and saw him blushing profusely.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah! Every single day since the day you met.” She turned back to Shawn who had gone an even deeper shade of red. “Anyway!” Shawn interjected in an attempt to change the conversation. “T is the one who made that really sick playlist I’ve been listening to!”

“I knew Shawn didn’t make that playlist on his own! He has good taste in music but its not that good!” Jon quipped. “Thanks” Tolani beamed, “I just added a bunch of songs from back home that I thought he would like.”

“And where is home?”

“I’m from Lagos in Nigeria. Currently in Toronto for school.”

“Really? I don’t know anyone from Nigeria.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you would.” Tolani laughed.

The four of them talked with Brian telling stories from his and Shawn’s friendship. They’d been friends since they were kids and seeing them like that made Tolani miss her childhood friend Folasade. She made a note to call her as they hadn’t spoken in a while.

While she was talking to Jon about his music, she heard familiar lyrics that put a smile on her face.

“She take my money when I’m in need, Yeah she’s a triflin’ friend indeed. Oh, she’s a gold digger, way over town that digs on me.”

She looked at Shawn and he also had a smirk on his face and she knew that he remembered the night they met where they had argued about what Kanye album was the best. “Don’t start with me.” she warned. “Only because you know that you’re wrong.” he stated, clearly trying to bait her.

Tolani rolled her eyes at him and decided to follow along with the song. By the time she got to the second verse, everyone in the room was screaming the lyrics.

“If you ain’t no punk, holla “We want prenup! We want prenup!” (Yeah!)”

After the song ended Tolani decided to switch her drink to something stronger. She noticed that Shawn had Hennesy and poured a shot for herself then mixed it with coke. It was a safe bet as far as drinks were concerned and she had a feeling she would need it tonight.

Shawn came up beside her. “Having fun?” She looked up at him and gave him a small nod. “Where is your friend?” “Not sure. Probably socialising which is more than I can say for me” she replied lifting the red solo cup to her mouth, the beaded bracelets on her wrists jiggling with the motion.

“You talked to my friends and now you’re talking to me, I’d say that counts as socialising.”

“Look at me being a social butterfly.” Tolani replied, holding the rim of the cup in her between her teeth.

She was about to ask him why he had invited her when the song changed and all her thought skid to a halt. A Burna Boy song was playing, more specifically, it was her favourite Burna Boy song. He was playing one of her favourite songs at his party filled with people who had no idea what song it was. She looked around and noticed that there were some confused expressions but for the most part, everyone seemed to like the song.

Tolani whirled to face Shawn her mouth agape. “You’re playing Burna Boy right now!” He smiled at her and nodded. “I am” “You mean to tell me that Shawn Mendes is playing Nigerian music at his party right now?!”

“Yes he is.”

Of all the things that she had expected, this was not one of them. She wanted to say something but someone one the other side of the room called him. He looked at her apologetically before walking off to see what the person needed, clearly in host mode.

Tolani stayed where she was swaying from side to side enjoying the music that she had introduced him to. When the song ended and another one started, Tomiwa came up to her looking just as energetic as she felt. “Shawn Mendes listens to Nigerian music?” “Apparently so!”

“Okay, we have to dance. Can you shaku shaku?”**

Tolani gave him a look that said “You have to be joking” and started dancing, in a split second Tomiwa joined her, the two of them perfectly in sync. Within seconds there was a crowd of people around them, trying to imitate the dance but failing woefully. Brian and Jon had asked Tolani to teach them and she tried but it wasn’t a success. She couldn’t stop laughing watching Brian flail his hands about completely offbeat. Jon was better nailing the footwork but he was having trouble following the song, clearly paying too much attention to what he was doing rather than the song that was playing.

Shawn had come back and was watching them a smile on his face, but the look he had on his face when he opened the door was back and just like before, it was gone before she could pick up on what it was.

Tolani walked up to him and stared up at him, looking him in the eye, “Do you want to dance?” she asked. “I already told you, I hate dancing.” he chuckled. “It doesn’t have to be that kind of dance.” she pointed over her shoulder indicating to Tomiwa who was now attempting to teach everyone another dance that clearly wasn’t working.

“Nope. I hate any kind of dancing.” he shook his head. “Fair enough.” Tolani shrugged. “Can I talk to you outside?” “Sure.” Before heading to the balcony, they stopped by the kitchen where the drinks were situated. Shawn refilled her drink and grabbed another Corona, then they made their way outside. The view from inside Shawn’s apartment had nothing on the view from the outside.

“Wow.”

“It really is an incredible view.”

“Are you used to it?”

“Truthfully? I don’t think so. I’m barely home, so when I do come home, the view takes my breath away.” he sounded wistful, probably because he was thinking about all the travel he had done and was yet to do.

“And that’s CN tower?” Tolani pointed to the sizeable structure that dominated the Toronto skyline. “Yeah it is.” he nodded. “I think it’s amazing that you’re learning about my city.” “Well it’s my city now too.” she quipped.

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, Shawn spoke “I know asked before but I’ll ask again, having fun?” She nodded again more enthusiastically than before. The change in music had upped her mood. “I am. More so because you played music from my playlist.” she paused. “That- that was really thoughtful.”

“I am super thoughtful.” he declared wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Shawn is every conversation we have going to involve your ego.?” she teased rolling her eyes playfully. “No, but I like fucking with you.” “I can tell.” she smirked.

The silence returned but this time it was different, there was an energy in the air that wasn’t there before, it was almost tangible. Shawn took a step closer to her, and her breath hitched. “T, I know I’m probably being really presumptuous right now but I wanted to tell you that I really like you.” his voice had dropped an octave and sounded huskier than usual. Tolani could feel her cheeks warming, and could’ve sworn she could hear heartbeat pick up. He was closer than he had ever been and she didn’t want him to move away. “I really like you too.” she replied. He saw a smile break out on his face as he leaned forward. Tolani’s eyes fluttered closed as she leaned up to meet him halfway, she could feel his breath on her face as they closed the distance between them.

Before their lips touched she heard her name “Tolani!” Tomiwa’s voice rang out snapping them back to reality. She turned to see him crossing the threshold onto the balcony. Tolani felt her face warm and she backed away from Shawn who was looking everywhere but her.

“Hey Tolani! Hey Shawn!” Tomiwa waved clearly more than a tipsy and unaware that he had just interrupted something. “Hi Tomiwa.” Tolani said, willing her heart rate to slow down. “Great party man.” he turned to Shawn who clearly unamused but was hiding it under a mask of calm. “Thanks.” Shawn replied.

At that moment, Tolani felt like she needed to leave. Her mind was running in different directions and she knew she couldn’t sort through her thoughts with Shawn in close proximity. She turned to him and gave him an apologetic smile. “I think it’s time for me to go.” her voice sounding a lot smaller than it did prior to the interruption She saw the look on his face as he nodded giving her a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I understand.”

During the car ride, Tolani couldn’t help but think about what had happened on the balcony. ‘What would have happened if Tomiwa hadn’t walked out’. Even though she was largely disappointed by the distraction, there was a part of her that was a little relieved. She knew how she felt about Shawn and was positive that he felt the same way but there was something that was stopping her from facing her feelings head-on.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and sent Shawn a text

Tolani: Thanks so much for an amazing night. I had a lot of fun. Sorry about the interruption. Maybe next time?

She locked her phone and put it back in her pocket without checking to see if he had replied.

Taglist

@justbeingoceana @rulerofnocountry @dazedshawnm @speakingofmari

@thotmendes @sinplisticshawn @mani-lifes @bugheadfanatic @shawnssnack @sean-mendezzzzz @dimestorebieber22 @anxious-bi-bb @kyloreins @momenraul @andibecamethestars @eve134340 @muffinnmendesss @pinkk-peonies @jxnellemxnae

Let me know if you want to be added or taken off

*The EatDrinkFestival is a food festival held in Lagos every year in December. It’s amazing!

** Shaku Shaku is a dance really popular in Nigeria and Africa as a whole.

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes x poc #fan fic #fanfic #fan fiction #My writing #shawn mendes x woc

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loudest-subtext-in-tv · 6 years ago

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A Study in Fate teaser

Here’s the first 2200 words of a novel-length fanfic that I’ll finish sometime this year. It’s a WiP on an atypical schedule: At a later date I’ll release the rest of the first chapter, but then I’ll release everything else all at once.

Some authors don’t like if you hassle them to hurry up, but I may find it motivating. I’m going to attempt to get better at answering my asks/comments so feel free to ask me things about this fic, but keep in mind there’s a lot of things I won’t answer. Please be aware that no one cares if you don’t like first person perspective.

Though a big aspect of this story is about how to manage depression, it starts in a relatively dark place and weaves in and out of it. If you can’t handle unresolved distant thoughts of suicide right now, maybe wait until the entire story is posted.

Finally, I am doing okay financially right now, but two of my fandom friends are not. If you’ve ever wanted to give me money, I now have a Patreon. Anything you give me will help me help them.

Description: After the events of The Empty Hearse, Sherlock struggles to figure out who he is now that John no longer seems willing to play a prominent role in his life. As his mind runs in circles trying to parse their relationship and determine who threw John in the bonfire, his world is shattered by an enigmatic visitor: himself, bearing bad news from the future.

Series 3 time travel remix; series 4 compatible.

Tags and warnings: first person present, agonizing slow burn, explicit but romantic, depression, suicidal ideation, NOT FLUFF, self-actualization

Read on AO3 or under the cut:

Chapter One - The Curtain Rises

One can’t get far without an organizing principle. Every man needs one drive to which all others are subordinate, a touchstone that seizes him with purpose.

I had one once.

Now I have chips.

Dreadful organizing principle, chips: once you’ve got them, there’s nothing propelling you forward anymore. Have enough of them and you hardly want to move at all. God. I was in the best shape of my life, body and mind, and now I’m turning into Mycroft.

Except Mycroft has already transcended these struggles — or so he claims. Yet again, I’m lagging behind on a path I never wanted to follow. Splendid.

Any moment Mrs Hudson will come out and start chattering away about you. That will set me back the rest of the day, yet I won’t ascend the stairs. Does no part of my mind demand control of my brain stem? I’m meant to be some kind of genius: Any visionary corner of my psyche eager to make something of me? No takers?

No. Life is now nothing more but the wandering of here to there. And thoughts like that are why everyone thinks I’m a baby, so for god’s sake stop.

I am all too stopped.

Depression is a dowsing rod: shows you where to dig. So: Why do I halt here, at the bottom of the stairs? Why can’t I face the only place I’ve ever belonged?

It’s not merely that you don’t live here anymore. Not quite. That would be too easy.

Where are you wandering now, John? You got off work an hour ago. No one's called to alert me you've been kidnapped, so there's one thing I didn't miss today.

Still figuring that out, darling. Off my game. Maybe was never on it. Against my better judgment I let romance rot my mind, and you're the one who's suffered most. But I've recovered from less noble chemical weaknesses than your company. Against all odds I still draw breath. If I make myself do nothing else, I will turn this around. I'll prove you can rely on me.

Any threatening emails? You don't just attempt to incinerate a man and move on. For god's sake, give me something.

Oh. A text. Not a threat; a video from the homeless network. Must have been delayed whilst I was on the tube.

There you are, alive and unwell, and here responds my heart but it's nothing. Mere streets away from me, and nowhere near her flat. Why do you do this, John? Is your phone broken? We could just talk about this. Give me another chance and I swear I won't come on so strong. I was too presumptuous when we last spoke weeks ago. I broke your heart, I'm monstrous; you're no longer fond. I get it.

You're no longer fond, but you're in need of a hit. Which is curious, you realize. You understand how a man would get the impression... But no. I won't presume. Life is boring and I'm dangerous and bless you, you need a hit. Just come get one. I'll pretend I'm managing, I'll find a way to switch on that whole persona for you and you can do your hero worship thing. I won't act desperate.

Just show up, and I will respect your wishes.

Do anything but pensively stop on the sidewalk in front of shops you have no intention of entering. It just screams, I'm distracted! Kidnap me! It's been an age and I know you despise me, but if you keep doing this I'm going to have to conduct surprise drills again.

Maybe you're trying to get kidnapped. I wouldn't put it past you. Maybe it would be charity to send a car around for you to blithely climb into. Do you even think about how that would make Mary feel, John?

Of course, it's me you're thinking about right now. The tension in your posture, the unconscious clenching of your hand, the conflict evident on your face even from this distance: definitely me.

You know, I wasn't the only one who presumed. The papers presumed, the entire British populace presumed, even your sister presumed and surely she'd -- No matter. You've made yourself clear. Just: spare a thought for "the best thing that's ever happened" to you. I've no talent for consoling women on my best days, and I'd hate to see how I'd fare in a worse state than her.

No, I don't know that. I don't know that I love you more than she does. She's never broken your heart.

Oh. Wait, why...? For god's sake, Pilar, why would you approach him? He'll notice.

Well. Can't complain about seeing your eyes more clearly. Not good for my recovery. And there, yes, you've noticed. Paranoia in full swing, hackles raised, and a step forward. 'Can I help you?' in your usual tone that fashions a threat from etiquette.

Not good for my recovery, no. The things you do to my blood, John.

'Got a pound?'

'For someone recording me?' You scoff, narrow your eyes. 'Are you...?'

'Say, aren't you John Watson?' Oh, clever girl. Look at him, pretending he's not pleased to be recognized.

Yet nothing is ever simple with you, John.

'Yeah.' You're either too smart or too suspicious for your own good. (Freud would presume. I'm only saying.) 'Did he...?' You look directly at the camera; at me.

Come on! You assume it’s me? When roaming bands of criminals have set you aflame? Oh here we go, that spark in your eye -- you're going all in:

'Did you put her up to this?'

Oh well.

'Who? What makes you say that, sir?'

'Uh, well he does it all the time.' I don't. 'You know what? Just send it to him.'

'Not sure what you mean, sir.'

'Oh,' you laugh, 'you're not sure what I mean. Stop bloody recording me.'

And that's the end of that.

So. Guess you won't be coming over this week either. Or will you? Are you angry enough to confront me? It's not stalking when it's for your own protection -- just ask my brother, John. God knows he could use the conversation.

I’ve got to find more discreet operatives.

> Next time don't be so obvious.

When did she send this? Ten minutes ago. No, if you were going to come over, you would have arrived by now.

I suppose you’ve already said everything you have to say. But not even a text for stalking, John? I thought we had a connection.

Or we did. Before Moriarty won.

Not your fault. All mine. I underestimated him, failed to foresee the lengths to which he'd go for his insane plan. Didn't realize how many pieces he'd put on the board. Stupid.

A ping:

i thought youd like it? before you whinged you cant hardly see him

It was only supposed to be months, John. Then dozens of pulled threads later and you'd already gone and shacked up with a woman! That's what I get for being thorough.

And not even thorough enough. But if I wasn't thorough enough then neither was MI6, John. If Moriarty still had operatives in London, that's on Mycroft. And me. But definitely on Mycroft.

I don't know. Hate not knowing.

Are we really never going to talk about this? I took down an international crime syndicate for you, and you broke up with me on your blog?

No, no -- sorry. I take full responsibility.

This is ridiculous. I don't know why anyone comes to me to solve their problems. I can't even make it up the stairs.

Ah.

That's it, isn't it? I don’t live up there anymore, either.

Yes. Everyone says you can find Sherlock Holmes just up those stairs, back from the dead and cleverer than ever! Like most things everyone says, it’s not true. I search for him in these rooms daily, and all the evidence points to this: Sherlock Holmes was a character created by John Watson. An exciting story. A fairy tale. (Dare I say a fantasy?)

People will believe anything you tell them, John, and they did. You were so sure I was a hero that even I came to believe it in the end. Now they only keep believing it because I lied. I was never steps ahead, never as infallible as you made me out to be -- and now that you've quit writing me I'll never be anyone at all.

But I'm doing it again. Getting histrionic. I'm not the first nobody to have his heart broken. They all get on with life.

Well: usually. Technically speaking, the most invested ones turn to murder or suicide. On the upside, murder is still in the cards: Assuming I can pull it together long enough to hunt down the appropriate parties, they are murderers and it would be doing the world a favor to murder them right back. In the course of any such investigation there will tend to arise situations in which I would have no choice but to murder them -- or, fortune willing, sacrifice myself so that you may live. Or both! Now that would be a power play: cleanse the board of evil, preserve the king. The ideal way to die may yet fall into my lap.

It's nice to have things to look forward to.

But say it doesn't pan out. Given my recent track record it would be foolish to place undue faith in my forecasting abilities, and after all, I don't know for certain this has anything to do with Moriarty's network. He pulled so many rugs out from under me I'm always half expecting yet another rug. I may grow as paranoid as you, John, with him skulking about in my head. For all I know everyone involved was in Moran's network, and I'm chasing after people who are already in custody. Maybe there's no grand end, no power plays, no relief.

That leaves suicide.

I'm not saying I will, John. I refuse to break your heart again. And it would be no way to honor the lengths to which you've gone to preserve my life. They're mere thoughts. They come and go -- always have, and I always haven't. I'm not going to do it, and if I am, I can always do it later.

But no appealing alternative has revealed itself. Only the obvious path for the invested: live like everyone else, and finally sever myself from aspiring to anything meaningful or exciting. Growing up, they call it.

Freud called it repression, so let's hold off on drastic measures. I made this life work before and I can make it work again.

Of course, that was easy for Freud to say: Being invested in life isn't an exercise in masochism when you have a lifelong companion. Not to be maudlin, John, but I wasn't making it work until you came along. Not truly. You were the gear that made it all click. I couldn't become Sherlock Holmes until you facilitated it.

It felt like the strength you granted me persisted during our years apart, but it's no surprise I drifted off course the moment you weren't at my side. That's not superstitious, John, that’s just a cold fact. You would have caught the little things I didn't. You would have kept my ego in check.

But what's done is done. I'll muster some strength for you. Reinvent myself again. Reorder my mind, keep myself off the needle and the pavement until I tie up these loose ends. Then... who knows.

Maybe someone else will come along.

Well. Feels good to laugh.

I’ve got to get on with it. Life may be a flight of uncarpeted stairs, but I'm sick of being down here.

'Going out, dear? John didn't call, did he?'

Will I always be this damned slow?

I sigh loudly, not that it will make any difference. 'No, and no.' You scowl like you do when I talk about him. 'Just getting in.'

You frown. 'But we were just talking.'

My heart leaps. 'You and John?'

'No, silly.' My heart falls. You tilt your head; smile. 'You and me.'

'You were talking. I was out.'

You shake your head and laugh, a cheery, infuriating tinkle. 'You had quite a lot to--'

'Mrs Hudson.' For god's sake, do not go senile on me. Not one more straw.

'Is it drugs, dear?' Terrible, hushed pity. Everyone always leaps straight to drugs! 'Oh don't get angry, I know all the signs! The nerve of him, putting you in this state. I'd say a few things to him, if only he'd come around once in a--'

Anything has got to be better than this.

'Project much?' The stairs are fine two at a time.

'I need those for my hip!’

'Adjust your dose! You're clearly...’ What?

What in the world?

'That would explain so much,' he says, and the room tilts.

Through the door. There I am. There he is.

Sherlock Holmes.

End notes:

In The Lying Detective, Sherlock tells Faith that chips are “the only perk” of being suicidal. In The Empty Hearse, he was eating chips when Mary told him John had been kidnapped.

John’s most recent blog entry before this story takes place is The Empty Hearse. It’s a mindfuck minefield for poor Sherlock, but we’ll get into that more soon. For now, know it contains this doozy: “Oh, and in other news, I’ve got engaged. But, it’s not something I’m really going to talk about much here. I want to keep some things private. I will say, though, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Sorry, Sherlock :)”

I borrowed the name Pilar from Sherlock Holmes and the Baker Street Irregulars: The Fall of the Amazing Zalindas, a novel by Tracy Mack and Michael Citrin. I’ve never read it, mind, it just seems like it wouldn’t be the sort of thing Sherlock would assign to Wiggins, and Wiggins would never be so sloppy.

Sherlock is obsessed with Freud. One Freud reference in The Abominable Bride, which was constructed entirely from Sherlock’s drugged out brain, came from Mycroft, who asked John if he was aware of theories of paranoia. Freud believed paranoid people were closeted homosexuals, heavily insinuating that Sherlock believes John is a closeted homosexual. Freud meta to come later; he’s very important.

Freud was with his wife for 57 years.

“Life is a flight of uncarpeted stairs” is from the poem “Spring” by the early 20th century queer poet Edna St. Vincent Millay. She ended up dying of a heart attack that made her fall down the stairs, which is itself poetic. Though she was a woman, I think it’s realistic Sherlock would know about her: the Casebook notes that Sherlock reads the agony aunt columns in women’s magazines because they contain all of life and are pertinent to his line of work, and in the same spirit I’ve made him familiar with all old famous love letters, for which she’s renowned. We also know Sherlock is familiar with Shakespeare and moved enough to remember entire soliloquies, so there’s no way Sherlock could read “Spring” and not retain some of it — especially as John and Mary had been aiming for a spring wedding, and the poem references April, which is just wrapping up as the fic begins.

#tjlc #johnlock #fanfic #my fanfic #A Study in Fate #this was a nightmare to format on an iPhone

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the-duke-of-deodorant · 5 years ago

Note

Still wanting a Roceit prompt? Here's one inspired by an au of mine where the Sides are brought to life by Wishers who the Sides then escape from and end up living with Thomas. Deceit and Roman have been hanging out for awhile and Deceit starts making romantic overtures, bringing red roses for their first date. However, due to a really bad past "relationship", red roses and their smell are triggering to Roman, but he hides it due to being the Romantic Side and not wanting to lose De's love. (1)

PART 1/at least 3

Ships: Roceit

Warnings: heartbreak, past relationship abuse, maybe some Roman angst (please let me know if I need to add anything)

A/N: Adrian is a made up character, if he related to anyone in the series, please let me know so I can change it.

A/N: When he’s talking about loving more than one person, he’s talking about cheating behind someone’s back not being poly (thought I would clear that up ahead of time)

A/N: I was gonna wait until I have all of this written before posting it but I’m impatient and I wanna post it now so it’s being broken into parts

Word count: 1146

POV: 1st person- Roman

I threw away the red rose necklace.

I’ve been meaning to for a while, but I didn’t want to. All it’s been doing was sitting on my desk and pulling back memories whenever I look at it. The necklace came from Adrian Parker, my first true love. Now that doesn’t make any sense, right? You can’t have more than one true love. That’s what sucks about being alive. Nothing makes sense and true love doesn’t actually exist. People love one person, get bored, and move on to the next. One of the ten people Adrian loved was me.

That was true love. For an entire three weeks, Adrian held my hand whenever he got the chance. We spent nights together, watched movies, and I made him happy. He made me happy, and I didn’t want to lose that.

As time went on, he seemed to become more and more distant. The smile on his face faded when I was with him. After a week of fighting, he finally left. I wanted to leave too, but I never did. I wanted him to be my true love forever even if it continued to hurt me. The next day, he started dating someone else and I cut him out. Or tried to, at least. He never bothered approaching me again unless I did first, so I really I didn’t have to worry about avoiding him. When I did talk to him, he would go on about his new boyfriend and all the drama that came with it. I felt bad for the new boy just like me. His first love, and it had to be Adrain. After less than a week, Adrian left him and went with the guy he was flirting with while the two of them were dating.

That’s when I lost it. Not only did he hurt me, but ten other people before me and two after that. I wanted to yell at him and tell him everything, but I didn’t. I hate to admit it, but I still care. Just enough to keep my true feelings inside, just like what my turn with him was like. Just like always, my anger stayed silent.

“Roman?” A tap came on my shoulder. I take out one of the headphones in my ear and turn to see Deceit behind me. Seeing him, I quickly take both of them out. “Are you listening to The Things We Used To Share again?”

“No.”

“You’re blasting the music. I can hear it.”

“It’s not a big deal.” The wires of the headphones start to tangle in my fingers. “I don’t love him anymore.” A silence came from the snake behind me, as if he wanted to believe me but couldn’t. I wanted to believe me too.

“Would you date him again?”

“No.” He tensed at my sudden response. “I’m sorry, I’m not doing it again. He doesn’t love me. I know he doesn’t because if he did, he wouldn’t love… everyone else.” He smiles, light drumming his fingers on my shoulder where they were rested, in the strangely flirty way he did it.

“Fool me once, shame on you-“

“And I dated him twice, I know.” I couldn’t help but smile when talking and pushing his hand away, because I knew he was making fun of me. Again. At least, smiling was the only thing I could do when talking to him. “The first time I knew I was in love. Then it took me such a long time to move on and when he came crawling back, I fell for him again. I can’t move on.”

“But you have to.” His hands touch mine, and he takes the tangle of headphones out of my hands. “I’ll make you a deal. You go an entire week without listening to any breakup songs, and you get these back. Deal?” I smile again, holding back a bit of laugher.

“Deal. I still get Disney though.” He smiles and pushes the wires into his pocket.

“Deal.”

———

I try not to think about Deceit too often. He’s an amazing friend, but I now know the rules of human romance. Get a crush, ask the person out, fight for a week, and watch them leave you in the dust as the cycle repeats on the next person. All can be avoided if you skip the first step, falling in love. Fall in love and your heart breaks. That’s it.

I still kept Adrain’s necklace, even though I decided to break it so I couldn’t wear it anymore. I couldn’t get myself to throw it away. The small rose charm spun in my fingers as my other hand worked inside my notebook. I didn’t have to think about love if I kept writing. Not the real love, anyway. I can fill the pages with stories of true love. Fiction.

Music filled the room through a speaker set on my desk, instead of through headphones like they would normally be. Disney, something I enjoyed listening to way better than the songs that made me think of heartbreak. Hercules is better than sad songs.

I thought my heart had learned its lesson

It feels so good when you start out

My head is screaming "Get a grip girl”

Unless you're dying to cry your heart out

Well, that’s ironic.

I went to skip the song, but I couldn’t this time. It was true, and the first time I could trust relate to Disney songs. I can’t feel the same way about Deceit as I did about Adrian. I can’t do it again.

No chance no way I won't say it, no no

Give up, give in, check the grin you're in love

This scene won't play I won't say I'm in love

I sang along as I normally would, listening to the music and ignoring the thoughts that came with it. I’m not going to lose another song to heartbreak. I can still enjoy Disney, right?

After a minute of music, my notebook was left untouched and I was yelling the words. I was lost in the music, leaving my chair and letting myself go. I was alone, and I needed a way to become myself again. The real me. Thank God Meg is as overdramatic as I need to be.

“-You're way off base I won't sa-ay it! Get off my case I won't sa-ay-ay I-it! At least out loud... I won't say I'm in…. looo-oooove….”

“Wow, you’re actually really good.” I freeze. Deceit was right there, leaning against the doorframe of my room watching my do… whatever I was doing. Spotify’s advertisements take up what would be giant silence in the room until Deceit speaks again. “You’re like a real Disney Princess, but like, louder. That was really big.”

“When did you get here?”

“You were lost in your song, you must not have noticed.”

———

Next | Part 3

taglist: @winterrs-child @cyraniadebergerac

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #roman sanders #fanfic #ts roman #deceit sanders sides #sympathetic deceit #ts deciet #deceit #roceit

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inkblotsonmyhands · 5 years ago

Text

A Second Chance

This idea came to me in a dream and I thought, why not post it to tumblr. Really more so I don’t lose the story, having all my work nearly organised in a blog seems like a good idea. If anyone actually reads this-I apologize for all the clichés .

Wordcount: 2.6k

Here we go.

A Second Chance

When you step outside close to midnight for an angsty stroll, you don’t expect the primary source of said angst to appear right in front of you.

Yet there she is. Carrie Miller is walking down the road, accompanied by Sam Bennett. Towards me. I can already predict this isn’t going to go well. Every time I even attempt to talk to her, I end up stumbling over all my words and sounding like a complete loser. Sam’s presence is only going to make things worse.

“Ash!”

Sam knows my name? Wow. Who knew. I guess it’s too late to hide now. I make my way towards them.

Sam slaps my arm in greeting. I will never truly understand this element of bro-culture. “Didn’t expect to see you again today. How’s it hangin’, man?”

Again? I guess we saw each other at school, but is it really called ‘seeing’ someone if you pass them in the hallway while they keep their head down and avoid eye contact?

Oh, crap, I’m supposed to be replying to him. “I’m alri—“

A thud sounds somewhere. We all turn to stare at the hedge next to us. It seemed to have come from there.

Sam looks at both of us. “I’m not the only one who heard that, am I?”

We shake our heads. He shivers, rather exaggeratedly. “I’m just real spooked tonight. Everything feels creepy. Anyway,” he turns to Carrie, “Do you know Ash here?”

“You sit next to me in Geography, don’t you?”

The amount of joy I get at my crush knowing I exist is testament to how terrible I am at interacting with her on a daily basis.

“Uh, yeah, I do.”

There we go, that wasn’t completely horrible.

She smiles. Maybe she can tell how nervous I am. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

Sam looks between me and Carrie before suddenly lighting up with a huge grin. Oh no. I’m not that obvious, he can’t possibly know, oh god, what’s he gonna do?

“Well, my curfew’s at midnight and my dad would kill me if I was even a second late, sooo… I gotta get going.” He smirks at me. “See ya later, kids.” He gives a friendly wave before heading off. I weakly wave back. I didn’t expect the school jock to be that… nice. Huh.

Carrie has started walking again, back the way I came. I hasten to join her. A loud rustling noise comes from that hedge near us, and we exchange a vaguely concerned glance.

“So, how do you know Sam Bennett?” Make casual conversation, Ash. You can do this.

“I don’t really know him at all, to be honest.” She fiddles with the bracelets on her wrists. “I just ran into him a while ago, and we were going in the same direction so we started walking together. How do you know him? You don’t seem like the type to know Sam.”

I frown. Not the type to know Sam? So she knows I’m a massive loser. Well. Isn’t that nice to hear.

“I actually-“

She cuts me off, talking rapidly. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, that didn’t come out right. It’s not that you’re boring or anything, just,” she lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head and chuckling derisively. “You know, Sam is popular and all and, oh god, I’m making this worse for myself. I’m sorry. I’ll just stop talking.”

I can’t help but smile a little.

“I get it, I’m not the most popular guy,” biggest understatement of the year, “You wouldn’t expect me to know the ‘cool kids’.” I do finger quotes around the words.

“No!” She exclaims. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just-“

“Oh, come off it.” I grin, with a burst of confidence. “You totally meant it like that.”

She shoves my arm. “Shut up!”

This must be the best conversation I’ve ever had with her. I might have even actually managed to flirt a little. And, was I dreaming, or did she flirt back?

There’s something magical about this night. Crickets are chirping, the full moon is shining in the sky. The atmosphere is rather romantic. I glance at her. We’ve descended into a companionable silence as we walk. Maybe now is when I can finally tell her how I feel. It feels easier here, at night, with no one around to see me and judge me for all my failures.

“Carrie,” I gently touch her arm. I can do this. “I wanted to tell you something.”

She looks up at me, expectant.

Distantly, a clock starts chiming somewhere. It’s midnight.

“Oh!” Her head snaps away suddenly. “I didn’t realize how late it was!” She looks apologetic. “Tell me tomorrow, in geography, yeah?” And then she’s crossing the street and walking away, before I can really register what happened. She rounds a corner and that’s it. She’s gone.

And I’m alone in the middle of the street.

So much for romantic.

I kick a rock on the ground and watch it roll away. “Good job there, Ash.” I mutter. I turn around and start walking away from my house again. So much for releasing any of that angst, now I’m feeling almost worse than when I started. Why didn’t I stop her there? If only, when she turned, I had said no, stop, wait. I need to say this, now.

“But I didn’t, did I?” I whisper under my breath. “Ash Cornell, failure extraordinaire. Always needs more time. Always needs a second chance.” I look up at the moon and stars. They’re very bright tonight. “I just need a second chance.”

A wave of nausea hits me. I stumble, halting in my tracks. I feel dizzy. Everything seems to be spinning. My ears are ringing. What’s happening? The world is spinning so fast that the only thing I can really see is the moon above me. The ringing is getting louder. What the hell? I’m losing it. That must be it. I’m completely losing it.

And then, as suddenly as that burst of dizziness hit, it’s gone, and I’m standing on the same empty street. It seems almost... noisier than it was before though. Maybe the ringing in my ears hasn’t completely faded away. I feel disoriented.

A car comes zooming down the road, and I hastily jump out of the way, stumbling onto the sidewalk.

“Watch it, kid!” the driver yells.

I shake my head, snapping back to reality. Boy, was that a wakeup call. Okay. I had stepped out for a walk, and I intend to finish that walk. I stride briskly down the road, doing my best to just forget what happened so far tonight. It’s alright. Just take a turn around the Center and then head back home. You didn’t meet Carrie at all. That was just a bad dream.

Up ahead is what we call ‘The Center’, basically a mall and a cinema. I actually live quite close to it, which would be useful if I had any social life at all.

I keep my head down as I walk. I don’t want to run into anyone else tonight. One awkward conversation is enough, thank you very much.

Of course the instant I think that, I slam into someone and nearly fall over.

An arm grabs me and pulls me up before I butt-plant into the concrete.

“Whoa, you okay there, dude? Sorry ‘bout that.” Sam Bennett is looking down at me.

“Uh, it’s okay, no worries.” I manage to stammer out.

“Hey, you go to Pioneer High, don’t you?” he asks. “Austin, is it?”

Didn’t he know my name like twenty minutes ago? This is weird.

“Ashton, actually. Or just Ash.”

“Ah, got ya. You going to see the new Dr. Sleep movie, bro?” he pushes his blonde curls off his forehead. “Man, it was terrifying. I was real pissed at my dad for not letting me go to the midnight show with my basketball team, but man,” he chuckles. “It’s probably better they weren’t there with me, I screamed like a girl at some parts.”

I laugh along with him, because it seems like the polite thing to do, but something in his story throws me off.

“Didn’t let you see the midnight show? Isn’t it like, past midnight?”

“Woah, I would hope not!” He pulls out his phone, glances at the screen, and shows it to me. 11:17 pm. “My dad woulda whooped me if it were past midnight, that’s my curfew.”

His phone says it’s 11:17, and there’s no reason for that to be wrong. But… I’m pretty certain I left home around 11:30, and the clock chimed 12 not too long ago, and didn’t Sam say he had to run because it was nearly midnight when I last met him?

My confusion must be showing on my face. Sam lightly slaps my arm to get my attention.

“You seem to have messed up the time there, pal. How could you think it’s past midnight? You’re like an hour off.”

I shrug, still rather puzzled. He laughs again.

“I’d better get going, then. You said you’re headed to see the movie?”

Oh, I just realized I never really answered his question.

“No, just taking a walk.”

“Ah, enjoy your walk, then. That movie fucked me up, I’m almost afraid to walk home in the dark now.” He chuckles, and I join him, again, because it feels polite. He raises an arm in farewell before walking away.

My mind is reeling though. I was thinking it was a little past midnight, but it’s actually a little past 11 pm. And what had Sam said? ‘You’re like an hour off.’

An hour off.

Did I- no, that isn’t possible.

But then… what was that strange nausea I felt earlier? Something isn’t right. It seems preposterous, but it feels like…like I…

Went back in time?

No. No way.

But… maybe?

I turn around. I can still see Sam’s retreating figure.

Well. Only one way to find out.

I follow him.

Following someone isn’t as exciting or stealthy as I expected it to be. Really, I’m just… trailing after him while maintaining a decent distance so he won’t hear my footsteps. He puts in some earphones, which only makes my job easier. I’ve gotten quite relaxed when Carrie emerges out of an alley between me and Sam.

Naturally my instinctual reaction to seeing her is diving behind a trash can, making it rattle loudly. Sam jumps and turns abruptly. I desperately hope I’m well hidden else this is going to be very embarrassing.

I can hear their voices. They’re talking to each other. I seize the opportunity to risk peeking out from my hiding place. They’re not facing me anymore. I need to be closer to hear them.

I begin to inch forward, pushing the bin in front of me. I briefly pause to reflect on the fact that I am literally crouched behind a trash can, attempting to sneakily spy on a conversation. Well Ash, there’s the exciting stealth you were hoping for.

“…walking with me, if you’re going this way?” I can make out Sam’s voice. “I feel like this night is noisier than usual and I am fucking terrified.”

Carrie laughs. She has a nice laugh. “Sure, no problem. My parents would probably feel better about me being out so late if they know someone walked me home.”

I can hear their footsteps now, getting fainter as they walk away. I wait until I think they’re far enough, before slowly getting up and beginning to follow them again.

Alright, Ash. This is where all those hours of Assassin’s Creed pay off.

I follow them carefully, pressing up against walls as far as possible. I move a little closer so I can vaguely hear them. They seem to be chatting about school.

It’s been a weird enough night. I’m not entirely sure whether or not I actually went back in time though, or if this was just some crazy flight of imagination. I wouldn’t put it past myself. I do do weird things in an attempt to make my life more interesting. Exhibit A, sneaking behind two of my classmates when I could probably just go over and talk to them.

That’s when I see what’s undoubtedly the strangest thing I’ve seen tonight. Scratch that, this is the strangest thing I’ve seen ever.

It’s me.

Walking towards Carrie and Sam.

I dive behind the elaborate hedge along the front of somebody’s house. Hopefully the homeowners aren’t awake to see the teenaged guy jumping behind their hedge to hide from two other teenagers... and himself.

This move, however, places me almost right next to Carrie, Sam, and… me. We’re just separated by a hedge. God, this is weird. I can hear us quite clearly.

“…not the only one that heard that, am I?” That’s Sam’s voice. Oh, right, the mysterious thud we heard. What the hell, that thud was me, diving behind a hedge? Looks like I definitely time travelled then, somehow. I give up trying to figure out what is actually happening here.

Sam’s speaking again. “I’m just real spooked tonight. Everything feels creepy. Anyway, do you know Ash here?”

Right, he asked that to Carrie.

“You sit next to me in Geography, don’t you?”

“Uh, yeah, I do.”

And there’s me. Wow, I couldn’t possibly sound any more insecure.

I mostly tune out the rest of their conversation and try my best to remain quiet. At one point I lean too heavily on and nearly fall through the hedge. I know how this goes. Sam leaves after saying he has to get home before curfew. Carrie and I make awkward small talk. I attempt to confess how I feel, and fail completely. She walks away. I wish for a second chance.

A second chance.

My eyes widen. That’s what all this is, isn’t it? A second chance.

I can’t hear us very clearly anymore. Carrie and I have walked some distance away. We’re still talking. I peek above the bushes to watch. I can see myself lightly touch Carrie’s arm. This is it. I’m going to attempt to do it.

The clock strikes midnight. Carrie apologizes before turning to leave and crossing the road. I watch carefully as the other me slowly fades away, until there’s no one there.

Now is my moment. You can do this, Ashton Cornell.

I spring up from behind the bushes and rush onto the street.

“Carrie!”

She turns around, looking at me with a puzzled expression. I walk up to her and take her hands in mine. I look at my feet and take a deep breath.

“This can’t really wait till geography class,” I glance at her. She has an encouraging smile on her face. I breathe in again.

“Carrie, I-I like you. I have for a while now.”

I risk a glance at her again. She’s smiling even wider.

“I know.”

“You know?!”

She laughs. “You aren’t the most subtle, Ash.”

Wow. I guess it’s time to go die of embarrassment, then.

She prods my foot with her toe, making me look at her again.

“Don’t you want to ask me something, then?”

Ask her something? What would I want to ask her? I already told her how I feel; the only thing left to ask is-oh. Oh.

I look at her with wide eyes. She nods gently.

“Uhm, Carrie,” I stand up straighter, squeezing her hands. “Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

She reaches up and kisses my cheek. I just stare at her in shock.

“I’d love to.”

I smile widely, and I can’t help but laugh, and then she’s laughing too, and then we’re just a boy and a girl, holding hands and laughing under a full moon.

I look up at the sky, still grinning. The stars seem to wink down at me. I wink back. I don’t really know what happened, but I’ll keep their secret.

#romance #midnight #writing #story #fiction #time travel #oneshot #oc #moon #cute #longpost #dream #cliché

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shewolfofficial · 6 years ago

Note

Could you possibly do headcannons/imagines (whichever u prefer) about levi and reader growing up together and her knowing kenny and all that, and when kenny attacks levi he recognises reader and harms her in some way, and levi goes ballistic?

Warning: Cursing, Violence

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been side by side with Levi for all your life, even though he was four years older than you-you didn’t care, you trusted the Ackerman with your life and he was the same when it came to you. After a few years of being side by side with Levi, you had formed an attraction to him.

A romantic Attraction.

You were no stranger to Kenny and Levi’s past, you helped the raven-haired man out whenever you could. Of course you were with Levi when the Survey Corps took you in, at first you hated the regiment but having Farlan and Isabel taken away from you-you didn’t really have a choice anymore. Especially since Levi decided to join Erwin.

And now the Scouts were wanted, Erwin has already been arrested and so have a few scouts that were in the interior when that happened. The plan now was to escort Eren and Historia while Armin and Jean dressed up as them to trick the bastards that are after the actual two, Levi wanted you to go with him so of course you agreed and tagged along.

Kneeling on the rooftop, you had your hood down looking down to the cart which Erena and Historia were in, Levi was at the other side of the roof with his hood up leaning against the chimney. ‘’Y/N you remember Kenny?’’ he asked taking a swift glimpse to you, giving him a confusing nod you motioned for him to continue. ‘’I think he may be apart of all of this..’’ Levi muttered, raising an eyebrow to Levi you shrugged ‘’he’s probably dead by now… Since we’re telling each other juicy secrets and theories I got something to tell you too Levi’’ you chirped as he turned to you. Giving him a teasing smirk you sent a playful wink to him ‘’come find me when we get back from this later on and then I’ll probably tell you’’ you add as he rolled his eyes at your childish antics.

Silence fell between you two, a few seconds passed. Levi heard a little creak come from behind you ‘’Y/N!’’ Levi spun to you immediately watching you swiftly dodge the shot Kenny fired at you. ‘’What the fu-!’’ you were about to lash out until your eyes widened. ‘’Y/n get out of here!’’ Levi screeched, giving him a weary nod you shoot off in a different direction.

// Time Skip - Levi’s P.O.V \

Sitting behind the bar counter, the barman shakes from fear letting out little whimpers here and there as Kenny stands by the entrance of the little restaurant. ‘’Oh come on! You here or not!’’ Kenny yells making me scowl, sitting down against the bottom of the counter ‘’right here Kenny, it’s been a while I’d really thought you’d be dead by now, well with all the MP’s you were butchering…. now you’re great friends huh?’’ I ask turning around slightly to the shivering bartender, seeing a shotgun I silently pick it up.

‘’Yeah well adults do plenty of things kids like you can’t understand.. Oh right, my mistake you’re supposed to be an adult now but you’re still such a runt it’s hard to tell… Then again, I see Y/N has grown quite a bit, surprised to see she’s still stuck to you like she was when she was younger’’ Kenny hisses making me frown at his words.

‘‘Always hoped that I’d get to see you in action someday, I can’t say I’m disappointed either seems you still remember every trick I taught ya’‘ he continues as I quietly load the shotgun, leaning forward slightly I listen to him. ‘‘But didn’t I ever tell you what happens to a cornered rat? Cause if I had you’d know wherever you’ll run you’d find a bullet waiting… Especially for Y/N, the way you told her to get away the second you saw me.. Trying to protect her like aways’‘ he chuckles as I look blankly down to the shotgun thinking back to what happened just minutes ago.

‘‘Hey Levi?’‘ the second those words left Kenny’s mouth a chair slammed against the wall smashing bottles of wine and beer, the drinks slowly pouring along the ground as glass shards fly everywhere. ‘‘You must have become a Scout for a reason and I think I know what that is… We were forced to survive in that little hell hole, giving everything we had just to stay alive.. So when we found out just how big the world really was you could bet it hurt like hell’‘ I hear Kenny pick up another chair as I flicking my orbs upwards towards the few remaining bottles on the shelf.

‘‘But you know what saved us? We found something we enjoyed doing, it’s just that simple! Every man needs himself a hobby, maybe the only source of fulfilling he’ll ever find in this wretched world’‘ Kenny’s rambling didn’t seem like it was going to stop making me internally groan. ‘‘Oh I see.. Is that why you tried to kill Y/N right in front of me then? Because it’s fulfilling?’‘ I ask, venom dripping from my voice as I slightly turn a wine glass showing Kenny’s reflection. ‘‘Yep! To achieve my grand goal I’ll kill as many as getting my way and you’re no different you kill too when it benefits you’‘ Kenny rose the chair ready to throw it again. ‘’Yeah..’’ I mutter quickly sending the barrel of the shotgun over the counter I shot at Kenny sending him back onto the street.

// Your PO.V - 5 minutes later \

I met up with Mikasa and the others, quickly flying through the air we met up with Levi. I trailed a bit behind the group as we all chased the wagon, my heart was thumping loudly and every nerve in my body was going haywire, nervously biting down on my lower lip I noticed a shadow coming from behind me. Turning around I came face to face with a smirking Kenny aiming his gun at me, Jean looked back to me and his eyes widened. ‘’Kenny-!’’ I was cut off instantly when a searing pain shot through my shoulder, screaming in pain everyone in the group spun back watching me fall to the ground, tumbling over and having my wires wrap around my now unconscious form as I lay on the ground.

Levi paled seeing you drop to the ground, growling he bulleted up towards, merely missing cutting open his stomach as Kenny suddenly zipped ahead of the group laughing. ‘’You bastard!’’ Levi roared, darting after Kenny he furiously sliced and killed anyone who got in his way. Another troop flew towards Levi only to have Levi’s blade slide across their neck killing them instantly.

Kenny, his troops and the wagon managed to escape with Erena and Historia. Sasha and Jean immediately ran back to me, crouching down by my unconscious body a small pool of blood encircled my tied up form. Soon enough Armin landed not too far away from the two and ran over. Sasha had managed to pull me to of the small pool of blood and started to put pressure on the bullet wound while Jean began to try to untie my 3DM Gear wires from around my bruised body. ‘’She’ll need to get stitches, we have to hurry back or else she’ll end up losing a lot of blood’’ Sahsa informed the two boys who knelt before her, nodding swiftly Jean finished unwrapping you from your wires and had taken off your gear.

// Time Skip \

Groaning I opened my eyes, seeing a fire flicker inside a little holder and dance in front of me I winced from the pain in my shoulder and collar bone. ‘’Finally awake, how are you Y/N?’’ I recognize the voice as Mikasa’s coming from next to me, lifting my head ever to see the raven-haired female I offer a small smile ‘’I’m fine.. I’m sore but I’ll be fine..’’ I mumble glancing back to the ceiling of the warehouse, noticing Levi sitting on a crate at the other side of me as I lay on the floor on a cloak. Memories flooded back in my mind as I frown in anger, Levi seemed to notice my foul mood change ‘’what’s wrong? Your shoulder hurting?’’ he asked looking down to me.

Shaking my head I scowl and sit up glaring to the fire as if it were Kenny ‘’Fucking Kenny is a bastard for doing this shit, next time I see him I swear I’m going to strangle him and fucking shoot him in the balls… Tsk someones never going to have children’’ I grumble as Jean raises an eyebrow. ‘’That’s a low move Y/N, shooting off his privates..’’ he muttered as I flicked my gaze to him ‘’not the first time I hit a guy down there..’’ I state plain-faced as Jean gulps nodding slightly.

‘‘Your main motive when going against a man is to kick him in the balls.. Are you trying to scar him for life?’‘ Levi commented as I nod my head ‘‘as long as I win I will’‘ I send a playful wink to him as he clicks his tongue. Standing up he takes a sip of his drink before putting it back down on the crate he sat on, raising an eyebrow at Levi he motioned for me to follow. Sighing I get up wincing from the pain that shot through me, choosing to ignore it I follow Levi into a separate part of the warehouse we stayed in.

Strolling in I watched Levi turn to me wearing his usual bored expression ‘’earlier today, you said you wanted to tell me something when we get back, well we’re here so what did you want to say?’’ he asks as I instantly remember our conversation from earlier, a tint of pink ghosts my cheeks as I avert my orbs to the ground. ‘’E-eh I change my mind, it’s not that important.. heh..’’ I force a snicker as Levi squints his eyes at me ‘’you’re lying, I can tell easily when you lie Y/N’’ he says as I gulp.

‘‘Levi you don’t want to know, you probably would wish I didn’t tell you even if I did’‘ I say trying to pry his mind off from finding out what I wanted to say earlier. But boy was this man stubborn. ‘‘Y/N tell me now.’‘ he growled, sighing I scratch the back of my neck. ‘‘Alright..’‘ I mutter ‘‘IHaveLikedYouForALongTimeNowLeviI’mSorry!’‘ I blurt out suddenly seeing him look at me in surprise ‘‘what the fuck did just come out of your mouth? English please’‘ he says rolling his eyes. ‘‘Fine.. fucker..’‘ I whine as he sends me a quick scowl. ‘‘I. Have. Feelings. For. You. Meaning. I. Like. You!’‘ I drone out regretting every word as they leave my mouth. ‘Great.. I better be prepared to have ruined a childhood friendship and made it awkward between me and Levi..’ I mentally note as Levi looks to be lost in thought for a few seconds.

‘‘Well, I like you too dumbo’‘ he replies as I go wide-eyed. ‘‘Really?’‘ I pipe smiling a little.

‘‘Yes, really’‘

#Levi Ackerman #levi #captain levi #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #captain levi x reader #X reader #aot #snk #Attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin #aot imagines #snk imagines #anime #manga #fanfic #Fanfiction

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friendlyfacestabbing · 5 years ago

Text

Gravity is a Cruel Mistress (the people chasing us are worse): 1/3

Summary: Patton falls from the roof of a six storey building. Logan is determined to catch him. (If Logan does a little falling of his own, then that’s neither here nor there.)

Chapter 1: In which Logan has Opinions on ties (and Patton is inconvenienced at a Police checkpoint).

A/N: Part 2 of Renegades! Or: And they were roommates! kids on the run from a totalitarian government! Chapter 1 is up, and I’ll post the remaining two chapters over the next few days. The boys are 15/16 in this one. It’s technically platonic, but you wouldn't have to squint particularly hard to make it pre-romantic Logicality.

Words: 2075

Warnings: Heights, Police, Retail, Parkour (let me know if I’ve missed anything).

AO3 here.

Part 1 here.

It is 4:28 on a Wednesday afternoon, and Logan has been running for approximately eighteen minutes and thirty five seconds. He is currently sprinting across the rooftops of the local retail district, and doing his best to dodge chimneys, ventilation ducts, glass ceilings, aerials, enraged pigeons, and long long drops to the ground. Running along with him are his closest friends Virgil, Roman, and Patton. Oh, of course. And the squad of government enforcers they picked up roughly eleven minutes ago. Just in front of Logan Roman is darting around a skylight, while further ahead Virgil hurdles an air conditioning unit. Logan flicks a glance over his shoulder and notes that Patton has dropped back slightly, but is still comfortably outpacing the dozen people in black body armour bringing up the rear.

It is pure accident that has landed the regime's goons on their tail. They hadn't even been doing anything illegal. Apart from existing, of course. And travelling without a relevant district permit. And carrying fraudulent identification documents. And using assumed names. (And Virgil never travels anywhere without at least one knuckle duster.) Alright so there was some technically illegal conduct occurring, but they weren't actively making trouble. Anyway.

They'd been sitting on a bus…

Roman and Patton are quietly talking, Logan is reading a newspaper he's found and Virgil is staring out the window at the passing shops. Which is when the bus makes a stop, two Transit Police get onboard and begin inspecting all of the passengers' ID Cards. One of the grey uniformed officers approaches them, and the four calmly and without any hesitation hand over their cards. (They really are excellent forgeries.) Cards marked, photos verified, personal data scanned, and “Victor Zalakos”, “Rory Anderson”, and “Lucas Preston” are cleared for travel and have put their cards back in their pockets. But “Patrick Northington's” card is not returned, and the officer wanders back to his colleague and they hold a whispered conversation, while shooting appraising glances at Patton.

“Patrick Northington!”

“Yes Sir?”

“Come here please,” and one of them gestures “Patrick” over.

“Okay!” Patton bounces out of his seat, the very picture of helpful citizenry.

Logan isn't worried. Patton can project an absolutely flawless air of dutiful obedience at will, and has wide-eyed innocence down to an art-form. Logan has watched him walk away from no less than six obviously incriminating situations simply by appearing politely baffled and anxiously patriotic whenever the authorities challenged him. Talking his way out of an ID card mixup is going to be plain sailing, and a pleasure to watch. Then the officer pulls out a retinal scanner.

Logan feels Roman inhale beside him, and he can see the sudden tension in the line of Virgil's shoulders.

Patton obligingly pulls down his glasses and holds perfectly still for the scan, and then while the machine is processing he chirps, “Is there a problem, officers?”

“Nothing you need concern yourself with citizen,” the first states in a bored monotone.

“Oh good!” says Patton, and hooks his fingers into the back of his trousers. I'm blown.

Logan catches Roman's eye and lifts an eyebrow. Noted?

Roman shoots back a disarming smile. Message received.

Virgil turns casually and leans one arm against the seat back. “What are we thinking for dinner L? Pasta? Curry? Pizza? Tacos? I could go a pizza.” Escape plan 1, 2, 3, or 4? I like 3.

“Mmhmm. Pizza is good,” Roman muses. 3 might work.

“I don't think we are in the pizza shop's area anymore, but the curry place does delivery,” counters Logan. Our location is bad for 3. 2 will work better.

“True,” agrees Roman.

Virgil is nodding as well, and then he turns and calls down the bus, “Hey Pat! We're gonna go for curry later! Okay?” We're going for escape plan 2. Objections?

Patton shoots a grin over his shoulder. “Sounds good Vi!”

They have whatever time it takes the retinal scanner to finish processing and completely expose who “Patrick Northington” really is. Logan knows that isn't long, and is already cataloguing what the next steps of survival have to be. First, Patton distracts the officers while the other three smash the rear window emergency exit to leave the bus. Second, they navigate the surrounding traffic and run northeast towards the shopping centre. Third, use the late-afternoon crowd to lose their pursuers. If successful, alter appearances and lay low amongst the arcade games until pursuers have given up and departed. If unsuccessful, go to Phase Two: Use the shopping centre's escalators and emergency stairwell to get to the roof. Pull the fire alarm on the way up to delay pursuers and shut down centre electrical systems. If possible, vandalise the fuse box and cause a blackout. Run their previously scouted path across the rooftops to the south (plaza, construction zone, old rail shed, train station, aquatic centre, warehouse currently being refurbished, mattress factory, occupied warehouse). Hide in their bolthole in the industrial district. It's a solid plan, meticulous and bulletproof, the trademarks of anything Logan and Virgil get their figurative hands on. He nods to himself. Between the four of us, provided no one is injured, this should work.

The scanner beeps. Virgil, Logan and Roman all subtly tense.

One of the officers whispers in awe, “Holy shit. It's him. I don't believe it.”

The other frowns and grabs Patton's shoulder firmly. “I'm calling it in.”

“Sir? What's happening? Him who?” an utterly baffled Patton exclaims loudly.

Time to go. The three rise very quietly from their seats and head to the back of the bus. Virgil slips his brass knuckles out of his pocket and prepares to break the window as soon as Patton makes his move.

“Nice try. Elridge,” the first officer sneers, and Logan has to look back now because Patton is about to be brilliant and he doesn't want to miss a second of it.

“What? But I'm Patrick Northington!” Logan knows from experience how that plaintive voice of innocent befuddlement, combined with enormous sky blue eyes and an open freckled face will make anyone doubt anything, including their own name. “The scanner even says so!”

And when both officers look down at the display, just to make sure of the evidence of their own eyes, Patton grabs the hand on his shoulder, yanks hard and flips the officer over his hip and into his partner. Patton then snatches “Patrick Northington's” ID Card, bolts down the aisle of the bus and tumbles straight out the smashed back window alongside Logan. They land on the road together and zigzag across three lanes of traffic after Virgil and Roman, who are already just shy of reaching the shopping centre courtyard.

They'd done their best to blend in with respectable society before they left base, but the four are still slightly shabbier than the crowd around them. Back on base they'd be wearing whatever they felt like, usually shirts with angry slogans, fingerless gloves, oversized jumpers, shredded denim and pyjamas. Out in public they have to look far more respectable. Roman has removed his piercings, Virgil's hair is back to brown, Patton looks like a golfing advertisement and Logan is even wearing a tie. Which is exactly how he looks on base as well, now that he gives it some thought. What else am I supposed to do? Take it off? A tie is an incredibly useful object. It can be a bandage, a gag, a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold, a sling, a belt... How else is one supposed to inconspicuously smuggle three feet of solidly woven fabric with a multitude of purposes except by wearing it?

They all spread out slightly while keeping each other in view, reach the front entrance, and attempt to disappear by matching the movement and demographics of the crowd around them. Patton attaches himself to the back of a group of highschoolers and trails along giggling. Virgil wears his best dead inside retail-worker-on-a-break stare and is immediately invisible. Logan does a convincing impression of a young scholar and/or professional with places to be. Roman engages a young man selling hand cream in an intense conversation about cuticle maintenance for ten metres, where he switches to chatting to the next salesperson about salt lamps.

They are making solid progress past the foodcourt when a solid wall of people up ahead interrupts their ambling escape attempt. Apparently, a posse with “get me your manager” haircuts has lost their tenuous grip on reality, gone completely postal, and thrown furniture through three shop fronts while setting fire to the bins. (Logan spent a season in retail and does not miss it. He honestly prefers being at war. There's less screaming, and if you get shot at least you're allowed to sit down.) There are firefighters onsite, as well as a full squad of Government Enforcers to contain the carnage and take statements from witnesses.

Between the roped off broken glass, the various rescue personnel, store security, the still agitated instigators and every other curious passerby, the commotion has created a blockage in passageway, and people are only getting past the mess in ones and twos. After a bit of a scramble over debris (not a problem). And some close proximity to several enforcers (…...has the potential to be a problem).

Roman (currently out in front) chucks a glance back over his shoulder to Logan and lifts his eyebrows. Yeah?

Logan grimaces and slides his glasses up his nose. No other options.

Roman shrugs, and joins the slow stream of people diverting around the mess. Patton allows two other people in front of him, then follows. Just as Virgil is stepping forward, he looks back at Logan, and then at something over Logan's shoulder that makes his eyes widen. Logan sends him a questioning look, and Virgil turns back and keeps moving slowly after the others, but he's tapping his fingers on his right thigh. The pursuit is back.

Logan doesn't look back, but keeps pace with everyone else. We need to clear the blockage and get moving again, before-

“STOP THAT KID!!!”

Well, before that.

It's not a problem yet. The transit officers are still a good distance away. The corridor is packed with people, especially children, so any enforcers close enough to actually apprehend them have no idea which kid to go after.

Which is when one of the officers yells, “PATTON!!! STOP!!!”

And Patton looks up. Right into the face of the nearest enforcer, who is watching him very closely. Still not necessarily a proble-

“Oops,” says Patton.

Fifteen feet away Logan sighs in frustration. Now it's a problem. Roman grabs Patton and yanks him away from the enforcer reaching for him. They both dash away, as Virgil emerges from the press of people he's spent the last two minutes elbowing a path through and sprints after them. Logan gives up on navigating the crowd and instead starts dodging his way through the police tape and debris. He can hear more shouting from behind him, so he pulls a stand of magazines down in his wake for good measure. On to phase two.

At the top of the escalators Virgil rockets ahead to deal with the fusebox and Roman sets off the fire alarm. The shopping centre is immediately filled with wailing sirens, flashing lights, and panicking people that are far more concerned with leaving the building as fast as possible than being of assistance to law enforcement. Three steps up the maintenance stairway to the roof the lights go out, and Virgil rejoins them shortly afterwards.

Roman is the first through the door onto the roof, and he is immediately looking around on the ground for something to use to jam the door closed behind them. Patton, Logan, and Virgil emerge as well, Roman shoves a rusted star-picket through the door-handle, and they stand for a brief second grinning hysterically at each other. And then Logan turns south, and they all begin to run towards where they know they'll be safe. There is the shriek of metal behind them as someone tries to force the door, but Logan isn't concerned. They're running now, and something would have to go catastrophically wrong for them to be caught. Dashing across rooftops is something they've been doing for years; the world of open sky and twisted metal is theirs and the mid-afternoon breeze snatches at their clothes as they figuratively fly across the skyline.

#fic #my fic #i wrote a thing #ts sides #ts #thomas sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #renegades! au #dystopia au #ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan

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