it's like magnets

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YOI Future!Verse ABO AU - 4 Koma

Shura’s cat problem

Shura absolutely adores cats and is a very proud self-proclaimed cat person. He thinks Yurio’s cat magnetism is the best magic in the world. Unfortunately, he did not inherit it, which leads to much heartbreak for his poor glass heart, which he did inherit from his mother…

(Featuring OC kid Shura)

*If the comics are hard to read, tap on the image first to bring it up in the Tumblr viewer, THEN right click view image for the unaltered slightly higher resolution.

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IF YOU ARE NEW TO THIS AU: It’s a Yuri!!! on Ice AU, Yuuri-centric with end-game polyamory in an ABO setting, Yuuri gets married to four mates (Victor, Yurio, Phichit, Minami) and they have OC kids.

BASICS and timeline of this AU

INTRO to how ABO works in this AU

A SUPER DETAILED world-building headcanons post on ABO+ in this AU

OTHER POSTS (comics + illustrations) in the Future!Verse ABO section of my YOI Masterpost.

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Please keep ship bashing out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.

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PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.

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This!!!! This is so exciting!!! There’s so much that can be done with this!! Imagine future attractions at Disney and other theme parks, or the uses for teaching. And I really really really want to know how every part works.

I Dont Even Know Her Name

Shawn Mendes x reader

Masterlist

Requests

Authors Note: Hiiiiiii, this was a request given to me a few weeks back and it really stuck out to me when I was struggling for ideas so I hope you enjoy!

Request: Can you do an imagine based of “I don’t even know your name”!?



SHAWNS POV

Damn she is beautiful. Beautiful is not even the right word to describe her. She is stunning, alluring, exquisite, and gorgeous all at the same time. Granted, those adjectives all generally mean the same thing, but this is different. She is different. Her beauty has a way of changing all of these words to describe attributes that extremely different than what they mean. I haven’t even uttered a ward to her yet and she is already captivating my mind. I have to meet her. 

The crowded night club doesn’t make it very easy to meet her and her barrier of friends makes it practically impenetrable. I noticed her as soon as I walked by the bar. I think my friends have kept walking by now and not even noticed that I stopped to stare. What feels like minutes to me has been only seconds that I have been looking at her. 

I can’t even comprehend that I am moving until I see her getting visibly closer to me. Of course I am the one that is moving toward her, even though my head is screaming at my feet to stop. Its like a magnetic force is drawing me in toward her. I can’t help it. 

Oh shit. She sees me. We locked eyes. I quickly look to the ground but somehow I am still walking toward her. I can feel her eyes staring at me. I am still staring intently at my feet as I walk which is probably not the best thing to be doing in a crowded night club. I stare at the scuffed tops of my trusted shoes as I read closer to her. I stop and my breath hitches when I reach to a pair of dainty open toed shoes and some and maroon painted toenails. I slowly look up at the woman standing right in front of me. She is smiling and laughs lightly as our eyes finally meet.

“Hi.” She smiles.

“Hey.” I whisper. I tried to be smooth, but I’m obviously not. She looks at me as if she is waiting for what i will say next. I’m going to be honest, I’m scared out of my mind. “i’m Shawn.” I say. Nice start man.

“I know!” She laughs. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and looks quickly at the ground before returning her gaze to you.

“You do?” I ask. I’m honestly surprised. I know i’m in Toronto, but for some reason it never registered to me that my fans aren’t only 16 years old.

“Yeah, Shawn Mendes right?” She asks as she leans her back up against the back of the bar. 

“Yeah thats me.” I laugh as I scratch the back of my neck, a nervous habit. 

“I saw one of you shows  few months ago with some of my girlfriends. You are very talented.” She says. 

“Thank you. It means a lot to hear that.” I say. Why the fuck did I just say that?

“You know I have always wanted to meet you, to have a conversation.” She says. 

“Well I’m here.” I say, “Can I buy you a drink?”

She lifts up the bottle of water in her hand and says, “I’m driving tonight, thank you though.” 

“Of course.” I nod and I turn away I take one step to find my friends before a hand grabs my arm. It feels as if it burns and tingles at the same time and when I turn back around it is her hand that is placed on my arm.

She pulls her hand away and says, “Just because I don’t need you to buy me a drink, doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Oh I’m sorry.” I say, “Do you still want to talk?”

“I was going to ask how it feels to be on stage.” She asks.

“It’s thrilling. It’s like nothing I have ever experienced before in my entire life. It is a confidence booster to stand in front of tens of thousands of people knowing that every single one of them is there to see you. It’s like a drug and you could say I’m addicted to it now. I’m currently on break and I want to be on stage more than anything.”

“Wow.” She says, “That must be amazing!”

“So what do you do?” I ask.

“I’m training to be a nurse at the Toronto General Hospital.” She says as she takes a sip of her water bottle. 

“Oh really?” I ask. 

“Yeah, I actually grew up in the states but I got a scholarship to go to University of Toronto and I ended up here.” She says, “I love it more than anything”

“I’m glad!” I say, “Toronto is a pretty great place.”

“Yeah, the people I have met are so different than the people in the states.” She laughs.

“What do you mean?” I laugh. 

“Well everyone is just generally nicer here.” She says, “I don’t even know how to explain it. I got lucky because most of my best friends from college ended up getting accepted into the same hospital as I did and I share an apartment with one of them. I’m a junior at U of T.”

“Oh cool.” I say. 

“Yeah…” She nods. “You are very handsome.”

“I’m sorry?” I ask. She thinks I’m hot? 

“Sorry, I’m doing this new thing that I try to be as up front with everything as I can and right now I just did it even though I totally didn’t mean to and I-”

“No its okay!” I laugh, “I was going to say the same thing to you.”

“You were? Oh thank God!” She sighs.

“Do you want to get dinner sometime? I’m in town for a few more weeks.” I say.

“Yeah I would really love that.” She smiles as she tucks her hair behind her ear. 

“You know I don’t think I ever caught your name.” I say

“Oh yeah I’m-” She begins but two of her friends pull her away to the dance floor before I can hear her. Before I can even get her number. I spend the rest of the night looking for her. I scan the crowds countless times before my buddies and I decide its time to just let it go. 

I feel like I see her all the time. I see her in restaurants and stores. I don’t actually see her though. It is just my subconscious telling me to see her because I am constantly thinking of her. I can’t stop actually. 

After about a week and a half of struggling to remember this girl I decide to sit down with my guitar and try to put my thoughts to paper. At the top of the sheet I write ‘I don’t even know your name’ and I begin to pour out my feelings to music. 

Oh, you waited so long
Sometimes, it’s hard to stand out
And you, don’t have to do anything else
But be yourself

Imagine Having An Awkward Moment At Dinner With Your Dads, Charles and Erik, When You Bring Your Boyfriend Home

Originally posted by comicstvshows

(AN: Your boyfriend is whoever you want, I thought about Peter for a second but then I was like WAIT NO THAT’S INCEST so yeah literally anyone but Peter can go in here if you want)

Y/B/N=Your boyfriend’s name

You were relieved that things were going smoothly. Knowing your dads, anything could have gone wrong; Charles was prone to pulling out random facts from your boyfriends’ minds to let them know they couldn’t hide anything, and Erik was very, very protective of any family he had. So far, though, everything seemed to be going alright.

“Daddy, will you please pass the salt?” you asked absentmindedly as you cut off a bit of steak. A few moments passed, and Charles’ arms weren’t that short, so you looked up to see the delay.

You weren’t surprised to see that both Charles and Erik had a hand on the salt shaker. If you didn’t specify which one of them you were talking to, they often both responded or moved to accommodate you.

The third hands, however, was what mortified you.

You blushed as you looked over next to you at Y/B/N, who removed his hand from the salt shaker, like that would have changed what just happened.

“…Y/N?” Charles asked. You ducked your head back down at your food, completely mortified. “Just how serious are you and Y/B/N?”

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised,” Erik murmured thoughtfully. “They’ve always taken more after you, anyway, Charles.”

You weren’t sure how you were going to be able to speak to either of them the rest of the night.

(For @justapieceofgeekytrash)

I’ve envisioned meeting one with immense beauty
being immortalized in the silhouette of intimacy
Having an authentic soulful connection running its course
like a magnetic pull keeping us bound


I have found him and he is what I’ve never imagined
He seems to be a masterpiece – raw but delicate, as if handcrafted
and he has shown no signs of straying nor leaving me abandoned
It caused me to think, “what can I offer him?”
Could I become the moon and break through his windowpane
illuminating his every provoking thought with regal grace
Love him how a painter makes art – with emotion and meaningful intention
He looks at me and gives me his dimpled smile
and I return the same radiant expression
He is the embodiment of boyish charm – exuding grandeur
but what can I offer him?

—  WHAT CAN I OFFER HIM?

Chibs Telford imagine #1.

Hope you like it!

-

Seeing him on a day to day basis was never my plan after things went downhill. But I was extremely stupid to think that I would never see him again. I work at his shop for Christs sake, of course I’d see him. And being friends with the one woman that accepts me, Gemma, I’d be bound to catch a glimpse of him.

But maybe I stick around because I do want to see him. Its like a magnet finding its connecting side. I immediately find his face in crowds, no matter who is in the way. I catch glimpses of the goatee, the sunglasses that frame his face, and the scars on his cheeks that I ran my fingers over while he slept late into the mornings and afternoon.

It seems like just yesterday I was curled up on his chest tracing the outline of a tattoo inked permanently into his skin, listening to the soft breaths that leave his parted lips and that little ‘pat pat’ of his heart beneath my ear. But it has been weeks since that last happened, months even and I’m still not over him.

He’s the only man I’ll ever want, even if he’s well beyond my age. The only old man I could ever be with. And the haunting reminder of his crow tattooed just under my breasts spread out to curl around them has me rarely looking at my nude body in the mirror. I can no longer look at myself without wanting to drown in tears.

The crow was supposed to mean forever and always, like a wedding ring and signed legal papers. But apparently that isn’t the case anymore and I’ll have to soon enough get Happy to black it out for me. Or live with the horrible reminder for the rest of my life.

He’d told me as Happy moved the tattoo gun over my skin, black ink being punched into my skin forever, that he’ll always be by my side. And that lie has left a permanent knot in my throat, leaving me with the threat of tears dripping down my cheeks. Will I ever be over him? Probably not. Gemma says I’ll get passed it, but I don’t think I will.

Sat in the office of the TM, I’m looking over paperwork Gemma had left behind for me to finish up for her, typing into the computer before filing things away. Chucky is helping, the little sounds of his kazoo making me smile. It isn’t until there are heavy foot falls of boots and a soft knock at the door that I look up from my work, my heart jumping into my throat at the sight of Chibs. He’d been avoiding coming into the office when I worked but he’d apparently forgotten that Gemma had taken off to be with her grandkids because the look of surprise and almost shock on his face says it all.

He clears his throat and Chucky slowly stops playing his kazoo, looking between us too. “Give us a minute, Chucky boy?” Chibs breathes and Chucky looks to me, taking hold of his kazoo so he can talk. “Do you want me to leave?” He asks and I take a deep breath, putting down a file and nodding. “Just a few minutes, Chucky.” I smile politely to him and he nods. “I accept that.” He states before sauntering out, eyeing Chibs as he does.

Chibs runs a hand through his hair before he pushes his sunglasses up over his hair. “In here workin’ alone, love?” He asks, his accent sending shivers down my spine, and I rest my elbows on the table, shaking my head. “I have Chucky.” I manage to get out without tripping over my words, my hands beginning to sweat out of nervousness.

He just nods and takes a seat, sighing softly. “How’ve you been?” He asks and I thoroughly think this question through. Does he really even care? “I’ve been good.” I finally answer after a few prolonged seconds, giving him a bit of a forced smile. I can’t tell if he realizes it’s fake or not, he’d be able to recognize if it was considering we’d been together for going on five years.

“That’s good, lass.” He says and I immediately look away from him, my chest aching. “I have to get back to work, Chibs.” I whisper and he inhales deeply. I only ever called him Filip, resorting to Chibs when I was mad or upset with him. He stands, glancing around the office for a moment. “I miss you.” He whispers before he walks out and leaves me sitting there.

I sit, my hands grasping at the edge of the desk, tears uncontrollably falling down my cheeks, gasping in breaths. Chucky comes back in, noticing the tears immediately and moving to help clean them from my face with a paper towel, shushing me softly. He’s no help, my chest rising and falling unevenly. Gathering my things, I apologize before I rush out to my car, knowing the boys can see my tears as I pass them. But I’m gone before any of them can stop me.

The sobs break through when I’m alone in the safety of my car, my throat aching and sore after just a few seconds, gripping tightly onto the steering wheel.

I miss him too.

your johnny-dialogue answer really helped! so thank you!! also: you can tell when i got really lazy. thank you for your help!! i hope this is tolerable. 🌺❤🌺

-

Everything in this town was weird. Puckett-level weird. And if anyone knew anything about weirdness, it was the guy Johnny used for a scale. Maxwell ‘Weird New Kid’ Puckett. Whether it was his friend shooting lightning bolts out of his feet like ninjas on steroids, or flying mid-air over the forest, that kid had an answer. And Johnny will dang well get it.

Johnny was reasonable. He was reasonable when he wanted to be, at least. He usually, however, did not want to be reasonable and instead wanted to punch people in their dumb faces. Somehow, wanting to punch people still worked out in his favor. But this time, for once, he really didn’t want to punch out information. Instead, he wanted to do this peacefully. Wait, maybe not peacefully. But kinda peacefully. Semi peaceful. Semi violent.

Either way, he hoped Puckett would know why he felt this crackling in the pit of his stomach. It’s like, a campfire, with burning wood logs and sparks that seem to spread over his body. Lately, he’s been feeling warm – warmer than usual. And his hands burn and light up when he’s feeling intense emotion. Something in his mind, something in his chest, rumbled with thunder and heat. And it sounded like an apology. Like the something in him was sorry, for what it’s doing to Johnny. He hated it. It wasn’t him. It was like a ghost, something unnatural. He wanted answers.

Puckett.” Johnny muttered under his breath, fist clenched.

“Wh’about him, Johnny? He’s been missin’ in action since his hitball stunt.” Ollie replied, mouth curling down in a worried way. His eyes were elsewhere–probably his locker. Ollie was the most worried about school, Johnny respected his determination and hard work.

RJ gave him a look that said I’d hit him if you asked me to. But he didn’t want no hitting. He wanted talking. The look he gave RJ in response said all he needed to say, and his hooded friend nodded understandingly.

“He has answers to my questions, Ollie. And I am going to get my answers if it’s the last thing I do.” Johnny said determinedly. Ollie nodded, understanding. He passed a good luck as he went to class. He’d let Johnny copy off of him after.

But for now, it’s catching Puckett. He was in the same classes as Puckett, he knew that, but he didn’t want to have to worry about a teacher or a student overhearing. Nor did he want to reject society’s labels of what class should be about, he was too worried about the fire in his gut to be an activist.

The fire grew louder in his abdomen, and something in his gut laughed. Actually laughed. He’s not sure how he knew about it, how he knew that it was something genuine – but he did. And that was the freakiest thing about this – he knew what this spirit was feeling. It was disorientating, he hated it.

Johnny didn’t realize he was moving until Puckett came into his vision, along with Guerra and O’Connor. O’Connor had a blue aura around him – faint, somewhat translucent, but he saw it. His heart sunk, and he felt ever so out of the ordinary. He wanted to get whatever infected him out.

“Guys,” Max had said, “can both of you please fight elsewhere? Listen, I know you got some alpha-dog shindig going on, but I really have to get to class. So, please, leave me out of your anime non— Johnny?”

Puckett.” Johnny’s mouth was practically giving off smoke, and he was exhaling it like he was holding a fire in his mouth. Which he wasn’t, that’d be impractical, even for Johnny. Realizing what he’d done, he immediately switched to a more affectionate approach. He didn’t want to scare off Max. “Mux, can I talk to ya?”

The cap-wearing boy cracked a nervous grin. “I dunno,” he squeaked out, “can you?” His shoes squeaked on the floor, as he looked ready to run if Johnny made any indication he was angry. He didn’t look that scared, however, with a broken arm and the hollow-threat-I-owe-you-one Johnny gave to him after the hitball fiasco. He’d hit a guy with glasses, but Johnny wouldn’t hit a kid that couldn’t fight back. Max knows that. “I mean – uh, sure, I guess. Isabel, Isaac, ‘scuse me.”

Johnny cracked a grin back, much more enthusiastic than the other three seemed. As the red-head took off with the brunette, Isabel looked a bit confused on where golden-boy-head had gone, but Johnny was already off. Didn’t want her to know he’d snatched her cousin question mark. (Were they even related?)

“Listen, Mux, I trust ya. You’re a good kid, real good, so I’m trustin’ ya. Trustin’ ya wid a secret that nobody else can know about.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Max hurried, and mouthed I’m bugged.

“Ye, Maxy, I’m bugged by this problem I’ve got too. Glad we’re on the same page!”

“No! Johnny – God – Look.” He pointed to the mic in the flower, squinting. He mouthed again, I’m bugged, but when Johnny didn’t respond accordingly he groaned. Do you have anything that muffles sound? He mouthed to Johnny, who nodded, and got tape from his back pocket. Why he had that, Max didn’t want to know. He taped the tape over the mic, hoping to muffle whatever the gremlin Suzy could hear, then began to speak again. “Okay – you got me, flower’s muffled, what’s so important?”

“Glad you ax’d! See, Mux, you’re the weirdest kid this school has ta offer. You’re a weirdo that attracts more weirdos, an’ what I need for this problem o’ mine is a weirdo like you. I know ya’ve seen weirder, so you can’t tell me I’m weird for seein’, feelin’, thinkin’ this kinda stuff.” Johnny was stalling, Max could tell that by the nervous fidget of his hands. The kid couldn’t stay still. “I’ve been seein’ a lotta weird stuff lately … Y’know, like .. auras, n’ stuff. It’s … It’s freaky. You an’ your pals level freaky, Mux.”

Max stared, eyeing him up and down. There’s no way

“Y’know .. the spiky hair boy y’hang with? He’s .. got this …” Johnny paused, even though Max internally urged him to continue. “He’s blue n’ … It’s this weird .. Guerra’s red n’ …”

“He has this, blue aura? That surrounds him? Like that? It’s a light, sky blue?” Max asked, urging him on and on. This can’t be. It can’t. Is Johnny a spectral?

“Yeah! Ya can see it too? You – you got the same problem? Mux – Max, it’s been scarin’ the bahoogles outta me. It’s been – it’s been happenin’ real recently. It’s – never happened before? Is it a sickness – is there something wrong with me? Is there? Max – Max there’s this a-rumblin’ in my gut and it’s, I’m gettin’ visions–am I dying?”

“No,” Max almost laughed, but he managed to suck it in. “No, Johnny, you aren’t dying. Listen. I know it’s scary – it’s gonna be for a while.” Johnny looked horrified by the prospect of him being scared of something, so Max changed directions. “It’s weird – I know it is. It’ll be weird, for a while, but you have to trust me. You have to trust your ‘Mux’, okay? I can help you – and I got some friends who can help you, too.” He grabbed Johnny’s hand, doing what he needed when he was at this stage, and squeezed. “Let me help you. You aren’t alone, m’kay? You’ll have your answers.” He didn’t notice the red that sprung on Johnny’s cheeks, but it wouldn’t matter. “Uh, thanks for telling me, too. I’ll .. make sure everything’s alright. No reason to er .. be scared?”

Even with Max’s horrible comforting words, Johnny passed him a smile that basically read as I believe you.