#writersask

👻- 2 or 3 sentences from something you haven’t posted yet

“I tried to get in but your apartment’s empty.”

Eliott snaps his head up at that, feeling more awake than he’d been for the last few weeks.

“Maybe Lucas stepped out, just call him,” Idriss says, typing away on his laptop.

“No, it’s empty,” Sofiane insists. Eliott can feel the hesitant looks he’s throwing in his direction. “Landlord apparently ran into him and he said he’s gonna be staying at his parents’. And… he’s not picking up.”

Idriss’ typing immediately halts at that, and there’s a suspended moment of ringing silence between the three of them before Eliott surges up from the couch, socked feet landing on the floor with a hard thud. His dress shirt is sloppy and his pants are still creased from his afternoon nap but he doesn’t bother to check for presentation. He bolts around for his keys, his shoes, his jacket, all the while pressing Lucas’ speed dial on his phone with a surprisingly steady hand.

Hey, it’s Lucas. Can’t come to the phone, leave a message.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Eliott, hey, hey!” Idriss has abandoned his desk and is now standing in front of Eliott, forcing him to pause in his mad scramble around the living room. “I’m gonna need you to calm down, man, we know exactly where he is, alright?”

“No,” Eliott grits out, reaching past Idriss to twist the door open more violently than it deserves. From the startled look on Idriss’ face, Eliott can only imagine what expression would greet him in the mirror. “He doesn’t have parents.”

The parking lot is only a short jog away but fuck if it isn’t the longest distance Eliott has ever had to cross.

Hey, it’s Lucas. Can’t come to the phone, leave a message.

“Damn it.” His car roars to life and Eliott’s thankful that nobody else is trying to back up at the same time as him, otherwise he’s not sure if he’d be saved from causing an accident.

Hey, it’s Lu—

The steering wheel receives a harsh beating under balled up fists and Eliott vaguely registers that he does need to calm down or he’d get nowhere. He pulls over to the side before reaching the main road, leaning back against the head rest with his eyes closed.

It’s okay, Lucas couldn’t have reached too far. He’s probably on foot anyway.

His phone starts ringing then, and Eliott fumbles to answer, “Yes?” He knows there’s a ninety-nine percent chance that it won’t be Lucas but Eliott doesn’t check the caller ID in blind hope.

It’s Sofiane. “Dude, where are you going?”

“To the club, to the store, to the church, I don’t know.” Eliott would go and shake down Lucas’ usual spots until he sees his boy. “I need to find him.”

“You really think he’d go to places you know of? Maybe Idriss and I should look elsewhere?”

“He’s not hiding, Sofi.”

“How do you know?”

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🎈- what’s a spoiler for a wip or series?

SL ch.5 crumb:

Nobody says a word. The scene would almost be comical in its entirety, if Eliott didn’t feel his heart thundering in his chest, a private boombox projecting the fear that doesn’t show on his face. 

“Come here, Lulu.” Adrien breaks the silence. His voice remains normal, soft, like nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Somehow, that paints him all the more menacing. 

Lucas fidgets with the ends of his shirt sleeve — Eliott’s shirt and fuck, Adrien is one hundred percent misinterpreting this picture. “Adri, it’s not—”

“Lucas.” Adrien interrupts, tone clipped. Eliott sees Lucas bristle at it but Adrien remains unapologetic in his demand, sliding hardened eyes away from Eliott to direct a look towards Lucas. “Just get in the car. Please.” 

The awkward silence continues. Eliott’s own gaze shifts down to where Lucas is already glancing up at him, worry evident in his eyes, in his posture, in the way he hasn’t moved from his spot despite the obvious way Adrien’s subtle fury is affecting him. Eliott forces a nonchalant smirk for his benefit and nods his head, the tiny movement costing an unfair amount of nerves. 

His hands itch to touch, to rub along the expanse of Lucas’ back in silent reassurance. Don’t worry, he wants to say, me and Adri will be fine. Except he’s not sure they will be fine. 

Lucas shuffles towards his brother, snatching the car keys dangling from Adrien’s hand with more force than necessary. 

Adrien doesn’t pay any mind to the baleful glare Lucas throws over his shoulder before heading out the door. 

Eliott clears his throat, tries to speak for the first time since Adrien had walked in on them. “Adri—”

“Don’t,” Adrien says, shaking his head. “Not him.”

“Just listen—”

“No!” He continues on shaking his head, stubborn in his unwillingness to allow Eliott the decency of a full fucking sentence. Eliott feels irritation surging up his chest but he tamps it down, letting Adrien walk forward with a finger pointed at Eliott’s chest. “Not him, you hear me? Not him.” 

👻- 2 or 3 sentences from something you haven’t posted yet

Eliott places a key on the table— the spare key Lucas had made for him so that he could enter the coloc in and out all he wants. 

“I want to return this,” Eliott says, sliding the key closer to where Lucas sits frozen. 

And oh. 

Funny how being right sometimes stings like a motherfucker. 

But Lucas holds on, keeps his breathing under control even when his chest tightens immeasurably, scattered thoughts unable to form a single word in response. He stares at the key, watching its innocent glint under the kitchen light, unaware of the wreckage it’s stirring. 

Something wet lands on the wood of Eliott’s kitchen table and Lucas blinks down at it, watching a few more join its descent before realizing they’re coming from him. His eyes, to be exact. Because of course he’s crying now, that’s great, really. That’s exactly what he needs to be doing right now. 

🎈- what’s a spoiler for a wip or series?

Lucas steps closer, edging around the corner of the pool to where Eliott’s now straightened up by the railing. He shrugs once they’re within arm’s reach of each other, smile heart meltingly coy, lit up beautifully in the faint floor lights. His eyes spark with mischief that Eliott, by now, should learn not to fall under but Lucas is so close and so soft in his wrinkled sleep shirt, hair in an adorable disarray, that Eliott doesn’t have enough conviction to back away.

“If we are?” Lucas whispers in the shortening distance between them, one hand reaching out to curl around the hem of Eliott’s shirt. If someone had predicted that the infamous Eliott Demaury would find a person who could steal his breath away from a simple touch to his goddamn shirt then they’d have been fucking right because Eliott’s barely holding back from wheezing right now. 

👻- 2 or 3 sentences from something you haven’t posted yet

He scoots his chair over, closer to where Eliott has made a personal throne out of the one non-lumpy arm chair sitting at the corner of the table-- the lingering eyes don’t leave, though, and Lucas barely resists an exhausted sigh at the attention. 

Unceremoniously, he slams a hand over the one Eliott has resting innocently over the table, and the latter flinches, glaring at him from over the cover of his beat up textbook. 

Lucas widens his eyes, head nudging slightly to the left where their audience sits. 

So Eliott relents with a sigh, turning his hand over to intertwine their fingers together.

“Anyway,” Lucas huffs, eager for a distraction from his sad excuse of a lab report. “I was saying, this whole frat rivalry started with your fucking ancestor trying to steal my ancestor’s girlfriend.” And by ancestors he means the frat heads that came a few years before their time. The whole fraternity and sorority tradition is a fairly new thing on campus, hence the reason for them being the hot topic at all times. 

“You can’t steal people,” Eliott recites blandly, free hand flipping to the next page. 

“Yeah, whatever, you know what I mean.”

“Kinda stupid isn’t it?”

Lucas frowns, eyeing up Eliott’s dead stare at the words from his textbook. He highly doubts Eliott’s retaining anything his eyes are passing over at the moment. “What is?”

“Starting a long raging fight all because of, what? One person?” 

“I think there was a whole brawl involved too so it could be that.”

Eliott scoffs. “Juvenile.”

He’s so pretentious sometimes that Lucas wants to slap him silly. But he laughs instead because the student body would probably never forgive him for laying a hand of their precious Prince Charming. Oh, how could Eliott settle for such a terrible boyfriend? Lucas Lallemant is an asshole who doesn’t deserve to slap Eliott up the back of his head! No matter how annoying he may be!

God, it’s torture. 

“So you’re saying you won’t get angry if someone tries to take away your special someone.” It doesn’t even come out as a question, Lucas is so skeptical every word comes out flat. 

“Of course I’ll be, what the fuck? But maybe talk it out first, violence isn’t the answer and all that.” 

He can’t believe this guy actually says that with a straight face.

“Hey Sofiane!” Lucas bursts inside the shop without a care in the world, aware that he’s the only one insane enough to visit the flower shop two minutes before closing. “How do you say ‘fuck you’ with flowers?”

But his completely valid question is answered by the loveliest little laugh that most definitely does not belong to one Mr. Alaoui. 

“You’re not Sofiane.” 

I’ve reached OKAY FUCK level ages ago but everytime I go and try to finish up ch4 it grows a megaphone and yells out BITCH YOU THOUGHT 

👻- 2 or 3 sentences from something you haven’t posted yet

👻- 2 or 3 sentences from something you haven’t posted yet

“I’m sorry, say that again?”

Emma rolls her eyes, exasperated like she isn’t the one asking for a favour. “I said, would you take over Alex’s spot for the event? It’s pretty easy, you just have to walk around, pretend the food we’re serving is good, and flirt with the ladies to distract them from the bland spaghetti.” 

Lucas nods slowly and Emma begins to smile, face lighting up until he changes the direction of his movement into a head shake. “Emma,” he starts, tone void of emotion. “You do realize I’m gay, right?” 

“I am aware,” Emma huffs, pulling at the roots of her hair. “Can you just pretend for a bit, though? We’re super short staffed and we’ll pay you for it, I swear.” 

His brother takes a loud slurp from their nearly empty glass of milkshake. “I’ll do it!” he says, coughing a little from how fast he rushes into the conversation. “I’ll be straight for pay.” 

“God’s sake.” Lucas rolls his eyes, rubbing a hand over his forehead before settling on pinching the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger. “Lou, shut the fuck up.” 

“But I want money, Lulu,” Louis implores, staring at him with big puppy dog eyes as if that would work on Lucas of all people. He’s literally staring back at his own goddamn face. 

Emma claps her hands together, startling both boys. “Fucking genius! Imagine all the traffic we’ll get with the both of you in there! Please, god, make everyone’s twin fantasies come to life.”

👻- 2 or 3 sentences from something you haven’t posted yet

How about 2 photos?