#both do i have schitts creek feelings for days

[nerdygaymormon]

Favorite LGBTQ movie and TV quotes

“Um, I do drink red wine, but I also drink white wine. And I’ve been known to sample the occasional rosé. And a couple summers back, I tried a Merlot that used to be a Chardonnay, which got a bit complicated… I like the wine and not the label. Does that make sense?”

— David Rose, Schitt’s Creek, Season 1, Episode 10

“That felt so good to say. I feel like I just solved an escape room I’ve been trapped in my entire life.”

— Fabiola Torres, Never Have I Ever, Season 1, Episode 5

“Look, I’ll be hurt either way. Isn’t it better to be who I am?”

— Eric Effiong, Sex Education, Season 1, Episode 7

“Everybody’s story is different. There’s your version, and my version, and everything in between. But the one thing that all of those stories have in common is that moment right before you say those words when your heart is racing, and you don’t know what’s coming next. That moment’s really terrifying. And then once you say those words, you can’t unsay them. A chapter has ended, and a new one’s begun, and you have to be ready for that.”

— John, Happiest Season

“The good thing about being different is that no one expects you to be like them”

— Ellie Chu, The Half Of It

"When I'm with Brittany, I finally understand what people are talking about when they talk about love. I've tried so hard to push this feeling away, and keep it locked inside, but every day just feels like a war. I walk around so mad at the world, but I'm really just fighting with myself. I don't want to fight anymore. I'm just too tired. I have to just be me."

— Santana Lopez, Glee, Season 3, Episode 7

“Now, there is a long and honorable tradition in the gay community, and it has stood us in good stead for a very long time. When somebody calls you a name…you take it and own it.”

— Mark Ashton, Pride

“So I'm bisexual. So what? It's LGBTQ for a reason. There's a B in there and it doesn't mean Badass. Okay, it does, but it also means Bi.”

— Callie Torres, Grey's Anatomy, Episode 1105

“We’re standing here in Philadelphia, the, uh, City of Brotherly Love, the birthplace of freedom where the, uh, founding fathers authored the Declaration of Independence, and I don’t recall that glorious document saying anything about all straight men are created equal. I believe it says all men are created equal.”

— Joe Miller, Philadelphia

"Yes, I wear foundation. Yes, I live with a man. Yes, I'm a middle- aged fag. But I know who I am, Val. It took me twenty years to get here, and I'm not gonna let some idiot senator destroy that. F*** the senator, I don't give a damn what he thinks."

— Armand Goldman, The Birdcage

"Being gay is your thing. There are parts of it you have to go through alone. I hate that. As soon as you came out, you said, "Mom, I'm still me." I need you to hear this: You are still you, Simon. You are still the same son who I love to tease and who your father depends on for just about everything. And you're the same brother who always complements his sister on her food, even when it sucks. You get to exhale now, Simon. You get to be more you than you have been in... in a very long time. You deserve everything you want."

— Emily Spier, Love, Simon

"The greatest gift we can give each other is our authentic selves and sharing that. Sharing our truth is what will make us strong. So here I am. I am both human and alien. And I am a trans woman."

— Kara Danvers, Supergirl, Season 4, Episode 19

"But I feel more when I look at a picture of Kristen Stewart than I do when I kiss him."

— Elena Alvarez, One Day at a Time,

"You can’t change it. You can’t fix me. Because I’m not broken, I don’t need to be fixed, OK? I’m me!"

— Ian Gallagher, Shameless, Season 5, Episode 12

"Becoming me was the greatest creative project of my life."

Eliot Waugh, The Magicians, Season 1, Episode 1

"Every time someone steps up and says who they are, the world becomes a better, more interesting place. So, thank you."

—Raymond Holt, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Season 5, Episode 10

"I might be…bisexual, and you guys know I hate labels, but this one feels important right now to own the space I’m in and to make sense of it."

—Kat Edison, The Bold Type

[indestructibleheart]

petalwrites is now IndestructibleHeart

Hi, friends!

As some of you know, I've been through a lot of changes this year... and one of those changes involved a lot of thinky-thoughts about gender and coming to the realization that I'm demi-femme (or genderqueer; I use both terms). I started using she/they pronouns, which I'm really comfy with, but I've been thinking a lot lately about wanting a more gender-neutral name that represents all of me... and this is the safest place for me to explore that.

petal → stevie

As Charlie Spring would tell me, I don't owe anyone an explanation re: my gender or why I'm changing my name, but I actually want to open up a bit. I'm just going to do it under the cut below.

However, the tldr is this: I'm not a girl, but I'm not NOT a girl (hope that helps!!). I'm gonna start going by Stevie in online spaces because it better fits the person I'm becoming. I've changed my URL here, my ao3 username, and my nicknames on Discord. I love each and every one of you for cultivating a space where I can explore what being demi-femme means to me, since I'm not quite in a place to change my inherently feminine government name IRL.

cw for talk about both gender and losing my dad (spoiler alert — I didn't choose Stevie for Stevie Budd, as precious as she is to me):

The name "Petal" being pretty feminine is something that's been on my mind for a while now, and I thought pretty hard about what name felt most like me. When the name Stevie popped into my head, it was because of Schitt's Creek... but something else clicked right after.

It was my dad's name.

(Well, his name was Steve, anyway.)

And, while we had our differences over the years, he was the first person in my family to wholeheartedly support me when I came out. I told him I was a lesbian and he was literally like, "Cool. You want pizza for dinner, or...?" Yeah. Didn't bat an eye. Especially given that he passed in June, of all months, it feels like a fitting tribute to take his name with me on this journey.

For me, the gender spectrum is complicated. It's a place I'm still learning to navigate... and that's why I'm choosing a name that feels like it suits me wherever I happen to be on the slider at any given time. Having a place where I can make these kinds of changes and do some self-exploration is just... like... I don't have the words to articulate how much that means to me.

This community has been nothing but wonderful every step of the way here. Hell, this community half the reason I felt safe and comfortable enough to start doing all this self-reflection in the first place. So, thank you for that.

I know referring to me by a different name is gonna take some adjustment, but that's okay!

Just like I am both she and they, Petal is a part of me, too... It's just not all of me. I want to introduce myself with a name that fits like a comfy sweater, rather than a dress that I only wear on certain days. Y'know?

(And, really, this is more about me needing a space to safely explore some gender neutrality when I can't IRL than it is my being uncomfortable with the name Petal. So, don't stress about it.)

I hope that makes sense outside of my head... but I guess it's also okay if it doesn't.

[farm-witches-fic-recs]

Friends! Countrypeople! Townies! The farm witch community has gathered together again to bring a selection of favorites old and new for your reading pleasure.

Check out these fics, leave the authors some love, and enjoy your days in the ways that make you happiest.

==========

London, Love, and All it Entails (londonspirit) “Patrick and David’s long term, long distance love affair. Someone mentioned GOGO (Getting Over Getting Older) and this one came to mind: two people are destined to be together but they first have lots to do before they are both ready. I find it both comforting and inspiring.” 

Noble Beloved (AWorldOfDreams/@a-noble-dragon) “I love this story so much! The entire Dracotine series to be honest. It’s such a unique spin on our favorite boys and their romance. The longing is palpable. The sexy times are hot as hell. And, yes, Patrick is a dragon—a perfect, snippy, numbers guy of a dragon. 💙🐉🖤”

My misspent youth and my slow decline (@stereopticons) “Only 800 words but it hurts so good. Patrick, David, Stevie, and Alexis each get a devastating moment that ends on such a high. Loved this.”

People like that are the only people here (@likerealpeopledo-on-ao3) “Warm yet complex Brewer family vibes, a gigantic treehouse, and Patrick coming to terms with his past at Thanksgiving. Plus the Roses! Doing Rose things! It’s a fic that helped me see how Patrick developed the flawed communication style he’s perfected and how sublime David is as a supportive partner (housewarming not included).”

Shot glass of tears (@blackandwhiteandrose) “There's just so much good stuff packed in a short fic. David in NYC is a whole mood but the way he feels things and even changes over this little bit of time is crazy. it's sad but it's not. I love that it ends knowing right where they'll pick up in Schitt's Creek.” 

Too fast (@grapehyasynth) “I come back to this one all the time. David worrying about this date being wrong for him (mini-golf! who would think David would mesh well with mini-golf!) but realizing how much Patrick is trying, how hot he thinks Patrick is, and relaxing into it and letting himself be charmed while still agonizing over making sure he isn't messing things up with Patrick is so lovely.” 

The touch of your hand makes my pulse react (pandorasdaydream) “This new RPF manages to create a vivid world where Dan and Noah are together and it's a world with both love and tenderness but also melancholy and jealousy. Highly recommend if you were one of those fans who did a side eye at Dan showing up drunk and enamored at Noah's London show.”

True Blue series (ayes)" An inventive, sweet & hot early-relationship AU in which David’s escape with Roland’s truck after the events of S1 ends with an encounter with friendly and generous goat farmer Clint Brewer (and his family) instead of the cranky Mennonites…. So David meets Patrick even before he’s worked at the Blouse Barn. The story includes hilarious appearances by the Roses and Stevie, is told from David’s (very anxious) PoV, and is as insightful & funny & satisfying as we all deserve. The series comes in two parts; both are worth devouring!" 

Wild and Wooded (@lisamc-21) “This is everything I want in a non angsty AU fic. They meet, tease and banter, find a way to meet again, click boom, and a happy ending. Patrick is so earnest and wears his heart on his sleeve, not to mention those heart eyes. David knows that Patrick has something that he has never encountered before. He wants it, but history has him doubting. Great dialog, great intimate scenes, lovely story.”

[stereopticons]

Fic Writing Review 2023

Thanks for the tag @hippolotamus!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

Words and Fics

53,271 words published to ao3

an estimated 31,700 unpublished words in WIPs written this year

2 published fandoms (Schitt's Creek and RWRB) and one unpublished (911)

Most recent drop: currently two advent drabble collections: ribbons and bows (SC) and my only wish is one more year (and then i want them all) (RWRB)

Longest (published) fic: we were loud like love (david/patrick, E, 5.1k) (it was a rough year)

Caveat to that is that indie band patrick is currently ~26k and unpublished, all of that was written this year

Top Fics by Kudos

never knew a home until i found your hands (alex/henry, E, 1k)

paint me up (you're my favorite color) (david/patrick, E, 2.5k)

in the long tresses of your hair (i am a babbling brook) (david/patrick, T, 1.3k)

let my love fix you up (david/patrick, T, 1.7k)

tangle and stretch (david/patrick, T, 3.3k)

My fandom fic events in 2023

Raisins in Zhampagne New Years Exchange: the world would make sense again (if i held your hand) (twylexis, T, 2.7k)

Schitt's Creek Rare Fest: your secret's safe with me (stevie/ruth, M, 3.1k)

World BDSM Day Writing Challenge (yes, I'm counting events I made up): catch my breath to breathe your name (david/patrick, E, 300)

Schitt's Creek Passions and Pastimes Fest: crossed words and open hearts (david/patrick, E, 2.6k) and parallax (collab with @indestructibleheart, david/patrick, T, 5k)

Smutsgiving part one and part two

+1-2 fics for Schitt's Creek Frozen Over

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024

to finish and publish:

certain songs (aka, indie band patrick): David, owner of the recently re-opened Perennial gallery in New York gets dragged by Stevie to a show where the indie band the Creek Waders are performing. He crosses paths with the frontman and guitarist, Patrick, and finds himself intrigued. Mutual pining, David being an idiot, discussions about queer art, Stevie ex machina, etc etc.

gather up the avenues: David and Patrick dated while in New York but broke up, now neither of them can stand to be in the city because of all the memories. Patrick drives back home to Canada, but ends up stopping in a small town with a ridiculous sign, while David flees to the place with the stupid name his dad bought him for his birthday when he was a kid. I think you can see where this is going.

come on, get higher, loosen my lips: five times alex and henry talk on the phone and one time they wake up together (workshopping this description lol). Actually hoping to finish and publish this in 2023 but we'll see how it goes.

I have a lot of other projects I'd like to finish but I'm not going to list them all here. We'll see how this year goes. I also love an event (clearly) so plan to participate in some of those as they come up (hopefully for both SC and RWRB).

Tagging @indestructibleheart @blackandwhiteandrose @kiwiana-writes @rosedavid @mostlyinthemorning @apothecarose @lizzie-bennetdarcy @smblmn @myheartalivewrites @missgeevious

[anna-pineappel]

Intro Post ✨

Hi and welcome to the chaos that is my tumblr. I decided to make a pinned intro post, for the same reasons I do most things, just because.

I’m Anna (she/they), I’m 30 and I write fanfic or as some call it, ✨Quality Literature✨ Due to some adult themes in my writing, some things on my blog are only suitable for those 18+.

My Fanfic Masterlist

Ask me about my Fics/the Director's Cut!

A few things to know about me:

I'm queer and married. I don't share a lot about my partner or my private life because I value their privacy but they exist. We own 2 kitties, a calico and a siamese.

I have ADHD - predominately inattentive type. I was diagnosed recently but it was something I always suspected of myself.

I write, both fanfiction and OC. My hyperfixation usually decides what I'm writing, and I haven't touched my OC content in literal years. Hoping to change that one day 😅

I also rotate through fandoms, see I have ADHD lol. I always consider myself a part of a fandom even if I'm not actively following/engaging with/creating content. Currently, Hogan's Heroes has a chokehold on me and I'm shipping Hogan/Klink (Klogan).

I also follow Kim Possible, Once Upon a Time, M*A*S*H, Stranger Things, Schitt’s Creek, Kevin Can Fuck Himself, just to name a few.

My writing is smut-heavy, you have been warned. Most of the time, it is pretty queer too. Feel free to check out my Ao3 😊 (again, 18+ due to the smut).

I post/reblog mostly about having ADHD and writing, with the occasional rb of fandom content.

[likerealpeopledo-on-ao3]

20 Qs for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @blackandwhiteandrose!

How many works do you have on ao3?

I have 51 works on Ao3.

What's your total ao3 word count?

728,254

What fandoms do you write for?

I’ve written for The Mindy Project, Gilmore Girls, Schitt’s Creek, and now Fellow Travelers

Top 5 fics by kudos

The More You Know

I swallow the sound (and it swallows me whole)

People like that are the only people here

Such Great Heights

Some Days are Diamonds

Do you respond to comments?

Yes, both literally and figuratively. I try to write a response to everyone but I’ve noticed a pattern recently where I drop off at the end of posting because I have a hard time feeling finished and if I leave some comments unanswered, I never have to say goodbye to a story. Figuratively, comments water my crops and keep me nourished. Without them, my writing brain withers.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Probably a Mindy Project joint I wrote with @alittlenutjob where Mindy and Danny don’t end up together but Mindy and Peter do.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Probably I swallow the sound, which some people call the stroke fic. No spoilers, but the ending is one of my faves, mostly because I was able to write a joke in it that someone I deeply admire told me was Dan Levy show quality.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far, and let’s please not take that as an invitation lol.

Do you write smut?

Yes.

Craziest crossover

I can’t say I’ve committed to a crossover.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not unless podfic counts as a translation.

Have you ever cowritten a fic?

Yes, multiple times with multiple peeps. I love that process and I think I’m a decent collaborator because people offer to do it again 😂.

All time favourite ship?

David and Patrick will forever float my boat.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Aw, poor Mafia!Pat and accidental marriage in Vegas.

What are your writing strengths?

Emotional arcs, insight into behaviors, wit, warmth, and copious amounts of research to get details right.

What are your writing weaknesses?

My own self-doubt and quickly running out of words to describe kissing and touching. I would love to write smut in an uninhibited manner, but repression!

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

If it serves a purpose. I’ve never needed to use it, but I would.

First fandom you’ve written in?

The Mindy Project was the first I ever posted but I wrote fanfic as a kid, not knowing it was fanfic. Nor fandom lol. We shan’t speak of it.

Favourite fic you’ve written?

I would love to say they’re all my children and I can’t choose between them, but ackkkk, I don’t know. I’m happy to have produced all of them and there are none I’d take back or orphan. Some were easier to write than others. Fine! They’re all my children! Don’t make me Sophie’s Choice it!

Tagging @beyondxmeasure @jesterlesbian @sullymygoodname @ramonaflow @dinnfameron @alittlenutjob and anyone else who wants to do it!

[kiwiana-writes]

3, 7, & 8 for the happy fic writer asks!

3. Have you received any bookmark notes? Which is your favorite and why?

Absolutely! Just a few of my many faves include: the person who bookmarked fae prince Henry with the note "Alex is a peasant boy and Henry is a faerie who is very much into consent" which is both completely true and just such a hilarious summary of that fic. So, so many incredible bookmark notes on the actor AU that made me weep, and one hilarious one that said something about printing it on papyrus and handing it down to their children—I hope desperately that that person discovers ficbinding. The Schitt's Creek pole dancing/pole instructor AU has one that's like "the concept that shouldn't work as well as it does". So, so many more, probably, but those are the ones that stick out.

7. What do you love most about being a fic writer for your fandom?

I started rambling about the fic community as a whole and then I realised this question specifies "being a fic WRITER" so I'm pulling it back lol. So: I love how much depth and richness there is to the RWRB characters which gives me so much to explore as a writer. I used to be someone who really struggled writing full AUs, but I find that I have a really good sense of what makes these characters who they are and so whether I'm writing them in college, as actors, as fae princes and peasants... whatever it is, I'm still writing THEM. And that's a really lovely feeling as a writer.

8. Talk about any friends/connections you've made as a fic writer.

God where the fuck do I START. This is gonna be like an Oscars speech where I inevitably forget some really important fucking people lmao. @ships-to-sail my dream team collaborator and someone I will fight DoorDash at 3am to send soup to their house when they're sick lol. @celeritas2997 was the first person to reach out privately when I started writing RWRB—I'd only interacted with her in the comment section of my fics before that and now she's a very dear friend. @clottedcreamfudge is someone I just clicked with immediately and now talking to her bookends most days (timezones are a scam lol). I went to Disneyland and Noah Reid with @nontoxic-writes @lilythesilly @reginahalliwell a few months ago and it was AMAZING. @minerforaheartofgold we discovered very early in our shared Schitt's Creek space that Aotearoa is SMALL and there was one hell of a venn diagram overlap between our friends, and now they're someone I'll always go out of my way to see when we're in the same part of NZ (and go to Harry Styles with).

But also like... all y'all? Anyone I've ever had a back and forth with in the comments section, flailed in the reblog tags with, DMed... fandom is community, I'll bang this drum until the drum breaks, and every single one of you makes my little corner of this community better.

[The Happy Fic Writer Ask Game]

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

please support this blog

🦇 The View From the Top Book Review 🦇

❓ #QOTD What's the last risk you took OR have you ever gone hiking? ❓ 🦇 Emily Janssen prefers playing it safe, still working at the inn her grandmothers own while dreaming of a day she can fully support herself with her art. Ambitious Diana Devlin is ready to take over as CEO of her family’s hotel chain when her father retires. Everything is going to plan until an unexpected run-in with an alluring artist on a mountainside throws Diana off course, resulting in one of the hottest nights either she or Emily have ever experienced. When Diana's plan goes off the rails, leading her to start her own company and buy Emily's grandmother's beloved inn, neither can forget their memorable—and steamy—night together, even when they're forced to play it professional. Will the view from the top be worth the climb, or will they both have farther to fall?

💜 Rachel Lacey always develops such well-balanced sapphic ships and realistic female protagonists. Emily and Diana are no exception. While Emily has fallen into a comfort zone (unknowingly allowing fears to take lead), Diana pushes past fear, allowing her goal-oriented mindset to take lead. While Emily has built a found family for herself, despite the lack of blood relatives, Diana is surrounded by blood yet still feels alone. Lacey also excels at creating queer found families in her novels. The Adventurers group is sweet, supportive, and gives Lacey the opportunity to expand this single story into a series for each member of their queer rainbow. Diana's relationship with her nephew is heartwarming and precious (hopefully he gets his own story in the future). I especially adored the contrast between Diana's ambitious mindset and anxiety, proving that we never really know how much a person is struggling (especially when they're so good at hiding it). The fall festival chapters make this a comforting read for autumn--I could have lived in those chapters (with a mug full of cider) forever.

💙 Crescent Falls, Vermont seems like the perfect setting for a small-town romance, and it IS. Unfortunately, we don't get to fall into the setting through descriptive language as much as I'd hoped. Even when Emily is painting the rich scenery around her or Diana is immersing herself in this new, charming town, the prose fails to draw us in so we're walking alongside them. That lackluster word choice fails to create the emotional entanglements and tension Rachel Lacey excels at in Stars Collide. Given that the author was sick with COVID and took a break while writing this, it's understandable. That emotion-based writing usually builds and builds until the FMCs can't contain themselves; until NOT touching is torturous. Unfortunately, there's a long stretch where the two FMCs are apart, which causes the story to stall. There's some longing, yes, but it doesn't grow to the point of impatience. I'm also a little disappointed that the characters didn't see the solution to their long-distance relationship sooner, though I do agree it presents a perfect ending. Also, the epilogue gave me total Schitt's Creek vibes, which I LOVED for them!

🦇 Recommended for fans of Alexandria Bellefleur and Ashley Herring Blake.

✨ The Vibes ✨ 🍁 Forced Proximity Small-Town Romance ⛰ Queer Community 🪴 Found Family 🩷 Sapphic Romance 🎨 Mental Health Rep ⛰ Lesbian & Bisexual FMCs 🍁 Third Act Breakup?

🦇 Major thanks to the author @rachelslacey and publisher for providing an ARC of this book. 🥰 This does not affect my opinion regarding the book. #TheViewFromtheTop

💬 Quotes ❝ Somehow she managed to look as sweet as the flowers she painted while simultaneously being one of the sexiest women Diana had ever seen. ❞ ❝ I’m damn good at wish fulfillment. ❞ ❝ “Feel the fear and do it anyway.” ❞ ❝ She was trying so damn hard to keep her attraction under wraps, and if she got tipsy and stumbled around a darkened pumpkin patch with Emily… well, she’d probably either end up kissing her or having a panic attack. ❞ ❝ "I see you weren’t only admiring my flannel for sapphic reasons." ❞ ❝ "Take a risk. Aim big. Fuck fear. What do you say?” ❞ ❝ Maybe she’d stood in one place for so long, she’d become rooted to the ground. She was terrified of what might happen if she set herself free. ❞ ❝ "Yesterday, I wanted someone to pick me for once. I wanted you to pick me." ❞ ❝ "You’re the first person to show me that I can let my guard down, I can be vulnerable, and you won’t take advantage. You let me be myself and appreciate me for exactly who I am— flaws and all— and I… I didn’t know how much I needed that until I found it.” ❞

[orionsangel86]

What if Good Omens has a "sad" ending?

I am pretty sure Neil Gaiman has said specifically that it doesn't?

I mean I doubt it will. What do you consider a "sad" ending anyway? Because people have different views on that.

I think the ending is pretty much what we know - that they will end up living together in a cottage in the South Downs. Thats the ending Neil revealled years ago before he ever assumed there would be a TV show, let alone one that would give him the chance to adapt the unwritten sequel, otherwise I doubt he would have told fans about the South Downs all those years ago. But he did and now he kinda has to follow through I think.

I think it would be a little bit sad in a bittersweet way if for example, due to a series of events Crowley and Aziraphale both were given the choice to be human (look its a theme I've loved since SPN and I'm still reeling from the Barbie movie and all the Sandman endgame spec so its on my mind). A human ending for them would be interesting, but in a sense it would also be sad because it would mean they would both one day die (omg now im thinking about the song Follow You Into The Dark and getting emotional) but it would be a happy ending as well as a sad one.

The other happier alternative is that they manage to fix heaven and hell and get to officially retire to live out the rest of their long existence on Earth together still as immortal beings with certain miraculous powers but with no affiliation to either heaven or hell until the heat death of the universe.

You know suddenly I'm struck by that harrowing Neil Gaiman line from The Sandman. I'm paraphrasing but its basically:

"It's only a happy ending because you know when to stop. Otherwise all stories end in death."

But anyway, the second option seems to fit AziraCrow more because I don't think either of them has expressed a desire to be human. They enjoy human things, but also very much enjoy the comforts of immortality and the fact they can perform convenient miracles.

Also, just due to the genre of the show, the ending is likely to be happy. Comedies are supposed to have happy endings. Ending them on a downer defeats the point of them being comedies. Good Omens is a Fantasy Comedy show. Its not a drama. Its not gonna pull a Supernatural on us. Now comedies can certainly have bittersweet or deeply emotional endings - just look at the finale of The Good Place - which to this day I fully believe is the best ending to a show I have ever seen. The Schitt's Creek ending is equally bittersweet. Both these shows understood the assignment in that they were able to create the right amount of catharsis and emotion in the audience that left us feeling both happy, sad, and satisifed.

Few shows pull that off, but I have faith that Good Omens will be one of them.

[flieslikeamoron]

WIP Wednesday

I've posted a couple snippets of this before, but I finally feel like I'm getting somewhere with it. So this is the first two chapters of my Steddie Schitt's Creek AU. I'll start posting it on AO3 once I'm far enough into it, but if you want a preview...

This is about 5K words. Rated T so far for kissing and slightly impure thoughts. 

Steve Harrington is in hell. Granted, he's not wanted for tax crimes, insider trading, money laundering and whatever else his parents were getting up to. So it's not like he needs to flee arrest like they did. But is he really better off?

They put away a nice little offshore nest egg, fled the country for the Maldives as soon as they realized the heat was about to come down, and never said a word to him about what was coming. No heads up. No maybe you should come on vacation with us. No here’s an account we set up for you in the Caymans. Nothing.

And that's what Steve has left to his name. Nothing. Just a handful of clothes. And a ludicrously small amount cash. It's the kind of money he used to drop on lunch, or drinks at the club. Nothing. The cars are gone, and the New York apartment, and the house in the Hollywood Hills, and the beach house, and the other beach house, and the European beach house, the jet, so much of his wardrobe it makes him want to cry... The only thing left, the only thing that wasn't in his fugitive parents' name, the only thing he actually owns is a Family Video store in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

Of all the pointless things. Why couldn't his parents have given him a sweet little boat or a cute little ski cabin or something the day he was born? Why did it have to be a useless video store?

He knows why. At the time they'd only owned about fifteen or twenty video stores. The start of a regional chain that grew into a national monster that grew into a media conglomerate. At the time it had been a way to welcome their new son into the family business. A new store. A new kid. Both born on the same day. It was symbolism, not a real gift. He's never seen the store. He doubts they have either. He completely forgot he even owned it until the lawyers sat him down and laid out the complete devastation of his life. 

He doesn’t know who’s been running it, but someone has because it’s still open. Somehow. The Family Video part of his parents’ empire went under years ago, thousands of stores shut down all over the country. Just this one lonely shop left shambling along like some kind of zombie. An obsolete relic of a bygone era. He might as well own a Model T factory.

But it’s all he’s got. So now. Instead of whatever resort his parents fucked off to, instead of a fun little yacht or a Swiss chalet, he’s heading for Hawkins, Indiana. On a bus. A Bus! Where he has been trapped for over twelve hours with the absolute dregs of humanity and the pervasive smell of literal shit wafting from the disgusting excuse for a toilet.

He emerges. finally, with four suitcases, the last precious remnants of everything he holds dear, into the absolute worst place in the world.

The bus station seems to be right on the edge of what the sign across the street proclaims “Historic Downtown Hawkins.” There’s a row of quaint brick store fronts. Faded awnings over old-fashioned window displays. There's a restaurant called Mabel's. There's a Laundr-o-matic. There's an honest to God "General Store" like something out of a black and white movie. Like Steve's time warped into the actual past. Do these people even have cell phones? Has he discovered a land cut off from modern society like some explorer uncovering a hidden tribe in the Amazon? That would explain why they still have a video store.

His head is pounding. Everything is so fucking quaint. Someone says hi to him, giving Steve a cheerful wave as he passes. A disturbingly casual friendliness that puts Steve on edge. He waves back anyway, pasting on a big, fake smile. This is a nightmare, but he’s been in bad spots before. He just needs to sell the store and get the hell out of here. 

But first things first, he needs a place to stay. 

He pulls out his phone. Does this place even have Uber?

--

The car pulls up surprisingly quickly. A big boat of an Oldsmobile that’s seen better days. Not exactly Uber Black, but beggars can’t be choosers.  Steve wheels his bags to the trunk. The driver doesn't seem like he's going to help, which is not going to do his star rating any favors. There's no porter so Steve pops the trunk himself. Only about two of the bags will fit. He puts the other two in the backseat, and climbs into the passengers seat.

The driver is a shaggy haired guy about Steve’s age. He just sit there. Staring at Steve, wide-eyed. "Hawkins Motel?" Steve says, annoyed. It's all in the app, isn't it? The guy opens his mouth, and closes it again. Is there something wrong with him? Does he not speak English? His haircut looks like he did it himself without a mirror. Steve mentally docks another star. "Anytime today," Steve snaps. He could maybe stand to be a bit more polite, but he smells of bus, and this has been the worst day of the worst week of his entire life.

The guy shrugs, still looking a bit surprised that driving an Uber means having another person in your car. "The motel you said?"

So he does speak English.

"That's right." 

At least it’s a short drive. The motel’s toward the outskirts of the town, not that it seems like they get a lot of tourist traffic around here. As his driver pulls up to the check in office, Steve hesitates. The place looks- It’s a long row of dilapidated rooms with blue painted doors. Haphazardly tilted air conditioning units in the windows. A couple windows with cardboard taped in where the glass should be. An overflowing dumpster. It looks like it has been, or will be, the scene of a murder.

“Are you okay?” 

“Be honest. Do you know of any murders that have happened here?”

The guy thinks about it for a second, rather than just rattling off a no. Which Steve appreciates. “Not that I know of,” he says. “But there’s a B&B back in town if this isn’t your speed.” He gives Steve a small smile. “Byers’ House. Really nice place.”

Steve can’t afford really nice. He mentally adds a star back to the guy’s rating for his honesty. “No, it’s- It’ll be fine. Could you just wait one second while I check in though? I need to get to Family Video after I drop off the bags.” 

“I’m kind of in the middle of-”

“Five minutes, I swear. And you’re going back that way anyway, right? I’ll pay cash.”

The guy gives him a long look. “You can’t just-” the guy says, losing steam halfway through. Steve smiles as the guy caves with a muttered, “Fine.” It’s the Harrington charm. Works every time. 

--

Family Video is on the other end of “Historic Downtown Hawkins” from the bus station. It seems to be getting into a less historic area, surrounded by a strip mall on one side. The video store has that classic brick look though. A mural on the side of the building with a mashup of movie characters from Elle Woods to Darth Vader. It could easily be removed, wouldn’t affect the sale price. There are large windows on either side of the door, the classic coming attractions posters surrounded by lights. But as Steve climbs the stairs he notices the posters are made by hand. Some of them look like well done art by someone who knows what they’re doing, some of them look like the scribblings of a five year old. 

How quaint.

He grimaces, pushing the door open. Cringing at the cheerful tinkle of a bell. "Welcome to Family Video." The girl at the counter looks up from her magazine, bored. "Can I help you find something?"

"The manager?" Steve says.

"That's me." She straightens up. "Is there a problem?"

"I'm Steve." Steve tries out a smile as he makes his way over to the counter. He has a great one. But she seems unmoved, not smiling back. "Harrington." He points in the vague direction of the Family Video logo on the wall. "As in, the family in Family Video."

She cocks her head. "I think my family is the family in this Family Video. We've only been running the place for 28 years." She adds, "Buckley." She points to the nametag on her suspenders that says Robin. She's wearing suspenders. Somehow they kind of work for her.

"I'm sure my family appreciates all your family has done to keep the store up and running."

"Last one in the country."

Steve gives smiling one more go. She looks at him stone faced. So much for the famous Harrington charm. Steve supposes what he's about to say isn't going to give her a lot to smile about. "I guess this is awkward," Steve says. "But the fact is I own this building, and the franchise license."

"The hell you do." She crosses her arms over her chest, lifting her chin.

"I do though," Steve says. "I don't know what deal my parents worked out with your parents. Obviously, we've been- I've been- Hands off. So that's thirty years of profits you haven't had to share and rent you haven't had to pay. I won't be seeking to recoup that, by the way."

She snorts. "Go ahead and try. There aren't any profits to share. We barely keep the lights on."

"Maybe this is an opportunity then," he says. "To turn this-" He makes a motion, encompassing the worn counter she's standing behind, the overflowing shelves of Blu-rays and DVDs, the scuffed floors. The general aura of decline in this shrine to an outdated form of media. "Into something profitable."

"What exactly are you talking about?"

"Well, the building has value. If the business doesn’t."

"The business has value," she argues. "It's just not in profits."

Steve cocks his head. "I don't follow."

"It has value to the town. We host movie nights in the town square all summer. We have groups that meet here to talk about film or books or writing." She motions at a couple squashy chairs in the corner with another mural on the wall. It’s the Gremlins doing a dance from Singing in the Rain. "We have an annual film festival. It’s happening next month. There are-"

"That's great," Steve interrupts. "But I need actual money. Not feel good small town vibes." He has to get out of this hellhole. And if that means selling this building out from under this stranger he doesn't give a shit about, he'll do it. That's business. That's how the world works. 

“And I need you to go be delusional somewhere else.” She frowns at him. “You don’t own this place.”

“Really?” he says. “Because I have a copy of the deed in my bag back at the hotel and another on file with my lawyer. How about you?”

“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” She manages to sound confident despite the fact that Steve knows for a fact she doesn’t have the goods. 

“I’m happy to come back tomorrow with my extremely legal paperwork that will hold up in any court of law,” he says. “And you bring… Whatever you can dig up to help your case. If that doesn’t settle it, you can spend the profits you don’t have on a lawyer.” 

“Great,” she says, voice flat. “Is there anything else I can help you with.” The amount of rage coming off her would be intimidating if he wasn’t completely sure he owns this place. And if she wasn’t wearing suspenders. 

--

Steve heads to the diner down the street from the video store for dinner. He feels sort of shitty. Maybe he should have made his lawyer do this part, but he can’t really afford the retainer. So fuck it, fine. He’ll be the bad guy. It's not like it's his fault Robin’s parents put all their eggs in the basket of a store they didn't even own. What is Steve supposed to do about it? He needs the money. He owns the place. It's not on him to preserve some weird non-profit video store, just so kids can hang out there and talk about movies or whatever she was going on about.

"Anything I can get you?" a pretty blond asks. Steve grabs the menu, gives it a scan. The last few weeks have been one indignity after another. Steve didn’t really think he had any farther to sink, anything left to lose. But looking at that menu a lead weight sinks to the bottom of his gut, his throat suddenly going tight. He wants his salad with truffle vinagrette, he wants wagyu beef not meatloaf, he wants hiramasa not tilapia. He doesn’t want chicken fried anything ever. 

"How about you bring me your favorite thing on the menu." He tries his smile out on the waitress just to make sure it's not broken. It’s probably not his best effort, considering how desperately he wants to cry about toro tartare. But she smiles back, charmed. He takes a second to notice how well she fills out her apron. Chrissy, her name tag says.

"Anything?" she says. "You don't have any food allergies, or-"

"Surprise me, Chrissy." She blushes at the sound of her name in his mouth.

“It’s so weird that you’re like… Here.” She shakes her head, wrinkling her nose. Very cute. “I’ve never met anyone famous before.” 

“I know what you’re going to say,” Steve teases. “I’m more handsome than the pictures.” 

She laughs. “Are you here for a while?” He can’t tell if it’s a come on or just curiosity. 

“I have some business to wrap up,” Steve says. “But I’ll be here for a week or two.” Not more than that, surely. How long can it take to sell a stupid building?

"I'm really sorry about what happened. With your family and everything." She leans in, like she thinks he might be embarrassed for anyone to overhear her talking about something that was all over the news, all over twitter, all over tiktok, all over everything. The charges being made public. The feds turning Steve’s New York apartment inside out. Steve getting escorted out into a sea of flashing cameras. Every microsecond of his misfortune documented.

"Thanks," he says, clipped. The last thing he needs is pity from some girl who probably peaked by captaining her high school cheerleading squad, some waitress who's probably never left her home town. Steve's fucking broke, but he's still better than this town. Better than these people. He doesn't need her pity.

She senses the shift in his mood, the smile no longer directed at her. And straightens up. "Anything to drink?"

--

Steve fishes his phone out of his handbag when she's gone. He knows he shouldn't, but he checks his Instagram. He has friends all over the world. Had friends all over the world. And now look, he can watch them having fun without him in real time. Watch them not thinking about him. Not missing him. It's all right there in the palm of his hand.

There’s Kassandra sun bathing in Ibiza. And there’s Oliver clubbing in Toyko. And there’s Stavros. His boyfriend of a record breaking three months. Kissing some guy on the private plane he was supposed to be using to fly Steve out of here. And there’s Stavros kissing that same guy on his yacht with a breathtaking Mediterranean sunset behind them. Steve zooms in on a carpaccio with a jealousy so intense he feels sick to his stomach. Fuck Stavros, honestly. But he would kill for that carpaccio. 

"Here you go," Chrissy chirps. She puts down a plate. "It's not actually on the menu, but it's my favorite. It’s like avocado toast, but it’s hash browns instead of toast. The kitchen makes it for me special." She puts down a second smaller plate with a few huge onion rings. “Mabel’s famous for her onion rings. Or- It’s the sauce, really.”  She adds a milkshake. “You can use the shake for dipping too.”

Steve looks at the food. It’s all so… Fried. He looks at her face, the tentative smile there. He feels a flush of something uncomfortable. Feels sort of small, air knocked out of him by the way she bounced off his coldness and came back with a little piece of herself and a smile. Something hooks into his chest, and tugs. 

“Thank you.” It sounds- Pathetically sincere. “It looks delicious.” That’s a lie, but he’s fucking doing his best.

Her smile grows to a bright, wide thing. Her pretty face lit up. She tilts her head, taking a breath. "Listen. I know you probably have- It's probably not what you're used to," she says. "But if you want to meet some people, there's a party out by the lake tonight." She shrugs. "I know it's hard to be new in town." She smiles again. So cute. "At least you could get a couple beers out of it."

"Will you be there?"

She blushes and nods. Pretty. Tempting. A nice distraction. Maybe even something he could put on his Insta.

“I’ll see you there.”

--

The party is exactly what Chrissy said it would be. Big bonfire. A couple kegs. A bunch of locals getting drunk, getting loud, hooking up. Steve looks around for Chrissy, pushing his way through the crowd. He doesn’t see her, and being around these yokels is bad for his morale. He grabs a beer and does another pass through the crowd, looking for anyone who’d make a good picture. He doesn’t need to advertise that he’s at a shitty party, but making out with someone hot might give Stavros second thoughts about taking that generic twink to Mykonos when he could have had Steve. 

Steve looks past the rowdy center of the party to a guy standing a bit away from the fire. Long hair. Leather jacket. Shit-kicker boots. Steve can see a tantalizing bit of ink on his hand as he lights a cigarette. A bit more ink peeking out of the worn neckline of his tshirt. He looks like the kind of guy that'll sell you drugs or steal your wallet.

Perfect.

The camera is already open on Steve’s phone as he steps in close to the guy. Steve takes a fist full of his shirt in hand to keep him from stepping back as Steve plants one on him. The phone clicks and Steve' glances over at, about to take one more. 

The guy cups Steve's chin. Warm fingers insistent, turning Steve away from the phone. Turning the hurried, awkward mash of their lips together into something that catches. Steve opens up, unthinking, for the heat of his mouth. The hand tight on his waist urges him closer, into the brush of leather, the heat of a body up against his. There's a lazy confidence to the way the guy slips him a little tongue. Steve leans into it, into him.

And the guy pulls back.

It takes Steve a second to let go of the grip he has on the guy's shirt. To remember why he came over here. His phone. Right. He never did get that second pic. He licks his lower lip. His eyes still on the guy. On his mouth. When Steve looks up enough to catch the guy's eye, the cocky quirk of his eyebrow, he can feel his face going hot.

Jesus.

Why is this guy even getting to him? He flirted his way out a Saudi prince's compound. He made it through two countries without a passport. He got into KissKiss without a lock of human hair. He does not get flustered. Especially not by small town guys with hair like they've been in a bunker since the 80s, and rough fingers and that infuriatingly amused look on their face.

"Um," Steve says. The guy's smile gets wider. Fuck. 

“I have to-” Steve makes a vague motion, and starts walking in any random direction that’s away from how hard his heart is pounding, from how obvious it must be that he wants. From how easy it was to get under his skin. He tries not to picture that taunting grin being directed at his back while the guy watches him basically make a run for it. 

--

Steve hitches a ride back to the motel, dreading taking an actual look inside his room. The bags are where he carelessly tossed him. The floors are worn linoleum. The air conditioner rattles like a plane propeller. The tile in the bathroom is chipped and discolored. He lines up his bags neatly in the closet. No point in unpacking. He won’t be staying long. 

There are cigarette burns on the blanket, but the sheets seem clean at least. He slides gingerly into bed and pulls out his phone. He looks at the picture he took. It’s not great. A bit blurry. There’s the awkward stretch of his arm holding the camera. But if he cropped it- He zooms in on the guy’s face, trying to get a better look than he did at the party. It’s really only half his face. Steve can’t see that glint in his eyes, that curve of the grin that sticks so sharply in Steve’s craw. The soft focus blurry moment of his mouth against Steve’s still sends a thick pulse of arousal through Steve’s gut. The memory of the guy’s fingers against his chin, the demanding heat of his mouth.

He deletes the photo from his phone without posting it. It wasn’t Instaworthy.

CHAPTER TWO

Steve wakes up feeling worse than he did the time he accidentally roofied himself. A shower helps a little. The water temperature could charitably be called lukewarm. But Steve stands too long in the tepid spray, drawing in deep breaths, filling his lungs with the smell of his shampoo. One of a kind, made just for him. Because he’s the kind of person people want selling their brand. Because he’s the kind of person who has what other people want. He’s the kind of person other people want to be like. 

Or he was. 

No, he still is. No one will touch him right now, but that’s temporary. The next scandal will come along. People will forget about the bullshit, and remember that he’s Steve Harrington. 

He fortifies himself with a look in the mirror. He hasn’t changed. He’s still got a face made to sell collagen spray and a body made for thirst traps. He takes a little extra time with his hair. He takes a little extra time choosing his outfit, running his hands through the couture in his suitcases, the thick wool and crisp linen, bumpy tweed, featherlight jersey. He pulls out a couple favorites. The gray pleated skirt. Thom Browne, of course. He hesitates between the matching sports coat and the red LV bomber. He always feels like hot shit in the bomber, but he should probably go for the look that says I’ll see you in court. His fingers trail over the soft leather of the bomber as he puts it back in his suitcase. 

He snaps a couple pics when he’s done. There’s no way he’d post something with this hotel room as a background, but look at his hair. Perfect. His outfit. Impeccable. And there’s that Harrington smile. 

--

There only seems to be one Uber driver in this town, but at least the guy was- Well, no, he wasn’t friendly. But he did help Steve carry his bags to the motel room. He knows the town too. Maybe Steve can pump him for the dirt on Robin and the store.

It’s a van than pulls up to the motel parking lot though, not the Oldsmobile from yesterday. Steve peers in the window, just in case he’s about to get kidnapped.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath when a very familiar pair of brown eyes meet his. Long hair and tattoos. Leather jacket just like last night. Steve would almost rather walk. But he is dressed to threaten legal action. Probably best not to show up sweaty.

Steve opens the sliding door to the back. It’s full of an alarming amount of crap. Tools, and random metal parts of something. A car? Steve doesn’t know. Wood, a small plastic lawn chair, a lawnmower, an amp for some reason- 

The guy pats the passenger’s seat. “Up here, big boy.”

Steve climbs in as smoothly as he can. Just because he humiliated himself last night doesn’t mean he has to do it again.

“I’m Eddie,” the guys says. “And you’re… Steve?” He reads off the phone in his hand. “I didn’t catch your name before.”

Steve could maybe pretend he doesn’t remember. Do the whole “I’m sorry have we met?” It can be devastating if you drop it on the right person. But he’s pretty sure all he’ll get if he tries it on this guy, Eddie, is a knowing smirk. 

Fuck it. “Came on a little strong,” Steve says. “Sorry, I guess.”

Eddie pulls out of the parking lot. “No apology needed. You’re not that bad a kisser.”

Steve knows exactly what Eddie’s doing, but he can’t just not set the record straight. “I’m a good kisser.” Eddie shrugs, still with that teasing grin on his face. His eyes on his rearview. “I escaped from the Yakuza because of how good a kisser I am.”

Eddie shoots him a skeptical look. “If you say so.”

“I’m serious. I have literally been given a car because of how good a kisser I am. A really nice car.”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, if you want to prove it we could try again. See if I’m inspired to buy you breakfast.”  He chucks Steve under the chin, condescending. Steve wants to eviscerate him. He also kind of wants to take him up on it, a surge of heat spearing through his gut. What is it about this fucking guy? He bats Eddie’s hand away. 

“Excuse you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are we asking for permission before we grab each other now?” 

“That was a one time grabbing,” Steve says. “Temporary insanity. So how about we both agree to keep our hands to ourselves from here on out.”

“Your loss.” Eddie flashes his teeth. He’s such an asshole. It’s really unfortunate how bad Steve wants to touch his dick.

--

There’s a closed sign on the door of the video store, and no lights on. It’s well past nine. This is no way to run a business. Steve knocks on the door, but the lights stay off. 

He waits five minutes, ten, before giving up and heading down the street toward the diner. He’ll kill some time having breakfast, then try again. Chrissy’s at the counter in her perky little ponytail. He smiles when she gives him a blushy wiggle of her fingers, and takes a seat at the counter.

“Did you have a good time at the party?” she asks.

“Would have been better if you were there.” She giggles, handing him a menu. “I looked for you.”

“I had to close up.” She bites her lip, scrunches her nose. “I got there late.” She leans in across the counter and lowers her voice like she’s telling secrets. “I looked for you too.” 

Steve wouldn’t mind the distraction. A no strings fling with someone like her. Someone who’d be sweet on his tongue. Soft in his arms. Not like Eddie. Eddie’s too- 

Eddie pops up from behind the counter with a screwdriver in his mouth. Fucking hell. Is the guy a living jumpscare? Why is he everywhere Steve goes?

He has his hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, and his jacket off. Tight Metallica tee that shows off the tattoos on his arms. Full sleeves of stark black ink that Steve doesn’t have time to pick apart before he’s making himself look down at the menu. He’s thinking about breakfast and not about rough fingers on his skin, a warm mouth wrapped around his- Nope. He’s not thinking about that.  

“Flirt on your own time, Chris.” Steve looks up at the warmth in Eddie’s tone. It’s teasing, but without the edge he takes when he’s poking at Steve.

Chrissy rolls her eyes at him and smacks him on the shoulder. “Shut up, jerk. I’m not paying you to hassle me.”

“Where’s that replacement motor?” Eddie asks. She looks around, and snatches it up off the counter. He takes it, and holds on, her hand caught in his as he raises an eyebrow and says, “Be good.” They both look at Steve. He hopes they don’t think they’re being subtle. 

Steve watches as they look back at each other, a whole conversation in the way Chrissy wrinkles her nose and Eddie gives his head a shake. They’re definitely fucking. So much for that distraction.

--

The store’s still closed when Steve gets back from the diner. This has to be deliberate. Is Robin avoiding him? Hoping he’ll go away? Joke’s on her. It’s not like he has anywhere else to go.

A bunch of kids are sitting on the steps of the store, arguing with each other about Minecraft or whatever kids like. 

“Anyone know why they aren’t open?” Steve asks.

One of the kids, curly haired with a trucker hat shrugs. “We were wondering the same thing.” 

“Maybe she’s sick,” a red headed girl offers. 

“She seemed fine yesterday,” Steve says.

“Usually you’re not sick right up until you are, so-” The red head looks at Steve with a level of withering disdain only middle schoolers are capable of. 

“What are you guys even doing here?” Steve says. “Don’t you have netflix?”

“Of course we have netflix,” a lanky, dark haired scarecrow of a boy says. He runs a close second on the withering disdain meter to Red Head.

A chorus of voices overlap each other.

“Robin has lots of stuff that’s not on netflix.”

“And she lets us play DND at the store.

“We’re making a movie.”

“What kind of movie?” Steve instantly regrets asking. 

Five voices start clamoring. Steve gets about three words of it. One of the words is “Demogorgon,” which he’s pretty sure is not actually a word. A smaller boy with stick straight brown hair in a truly unfortunate bowl cut holds up several weird drawings that don’t help make anything clearer. 

“Did you do the window?” Steve asks the kid, ignoring the rest of the useless non-information being yelled at him. He points at the poster for Ghostbusters. It’s one of the better ones.

“Yeah,” the kid says. “I’m Will.” He points at a signature in the corner of the poster. Steve’s having a hard time not looking at his haircut. He’s pretty sure it would qualify as child abuse. 

Trucker Hat grabs the stack of pictures from Will’s hand and starts laying them out on the sidewalk. The other kids start yelling again, rearranging the order and calling each other stupid, uninspired, derivative…

“We still don’t even have a hero!”

“And who’s going to play Daisy?”

“Plus the third act and-”

“But the costume has to-”

“Guys,” a good looking, dark-skinned boy says, swinging a bat in front of him. “Come on. I can play the hero.”

“You’re not a hero, Lucas. You’re a shrimp,” Trucker Hat says.

“We already decided none of us would be the hero,” Scarecrow says. 

“What about him?” Red Head asks. 

Steve looks up from the pictures he’d been trying to puzzle through. It’s like a very confusing comic book with no words. “What?”

“Are you like, athletic?” Will says.

“He is pretty tall,” Scarecrow admits reluctantly.

“He’s obviously not busy.”

“Can you swing a bat?” Lucas asks.

Steve isn’t sure he likes where this is going, but- “Can I swing a bat.” Steve snorts. “I played polo against Prince William. And I won.”

“They don’t use a bat in polo,” Trucker Hat points out.

“Gimme the fucking-” Steve snatches the bat out of Lucas’ hand. He puts his handbag down and spins the bat around his wrist once to get a feel for it. Then swings at the closest thing to him. Which happens to be a mailbox. With a gnome sitting on top of it. 

The gnome goes flying, and keeps flying. 

“Holy shit,” Lucas says. The kids watch wide-eyed as the thing sails all the way down the block and across the street. Knocking through a window with the loud smash of glass shattering. 

Oops. 

But still. “I told you,” Steve says, flipping the bat up and catching it one handed.

“Jesus Christ.” Trucker Hat sounds a little bit impressed, and a little bit freaked out.

“That’s the police station,” Will says, sounding more freaked out than impressed.

A few cops burst of the building.

“Run for it,” Red Head says, taking off on her skateboard with a gaggle of bicycles in hot pursuit.

By the time the cops make it down the street Steve’s the only one there. Bat in hand.

“Fucking kids.”

[gentlemancowboy]

It’s been 2 years since I stumbled back onto this hellsite (affectionate) and I have reached another follower milestone! Can’t believe it’s 2023 and people are still choosing to follow me and my antics, but I’m so appreciative to all my followers for continuing with me on this journey.

So to celebrate both these accomplishments, I am hosting a two part event:

For Creators

This is for all creators of any of the following fandoms: Supernatural, Schitt’s Creek, Our Flag Means Death, Stranger Things, and Bridgerton. I’ve put together prompts based on things that have become staples of my blog these past two years. I’ve also added quotes and color palettes to each as well for some further inspiration. Feel free to interpret them anyway you wish, and use as many (or as few) in your creations as you want.

Day 1 (Feb 8) Crossover // “I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” // down to earth: This can be anything that meshes any two fandoms together. Characters swapping universes, “incorrect quotes,” mashup of fandoms, etc…

Day 2 (Feb 9) Pride // “I’m really proud of you.” // take me out tonight: Any creation that centers or celebrates LGBTQ+ characters and ships, whether in canon or fanon.

Day 3 (Feb 10) Lyrics // “I love this song.” // in full bloom: This one’s pretty straight forward. Crank up the music!

Day 4 (Feb 11) Parallels // “Talk about deja vu.” // it was all a dream: This can be within one fandom, or parallels between separate ones.

Day 5 (Feb 12) Favorite character(s), favorite moment // “You’re simply the best.” // you are my sunshine: Shout out to your blorbos OR for a twist on this prompt: favorite character(s), favorite “fauxment” (a moment that didn’t happen in canon that you wish had happened)

For My Followers

Gif requests! Send me any of the following between now and March 1 for the fandoms I listed above:

Make me choose

Character + [theme]

Favorite [blank]

Also, I will continue taking requests for:

Random Request Roulette

Emoji meme

The Rules

You do not need to be following me for the creator portion of this event.

Please tag your creations as #bebes2x2 so I can reblog them all!

This should go without saying, but absolutely no incest, non-con or adult/minor relationships (though platonic is perfectly fine).

NSFW is allowed as long as you tag it as such (#nsfw or #minors dni)

Tagging some of my fabulous mutuals below the cut to help spread the word 😌

@agentplant @alivedean @altarofrowena @archervale @archivistsammy @becauseofthebowties @bloodydeanwinchester @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @buckhelped @carveredlund @castiel @castielss @chrrispine @davyperez @deancasroadtrip @deanncastiel @demonlandline @devilmns @dinnfameron @emeraldcas @faithcastiel @faithlesshunter @greatcometcas @greendaysam @klinejack @machine-slays-dragons @saileen-away @saltyhuntress @sketchbookdean @supersapphical @theedorksinlove @undeadcas @wentzy @xofemeraldstars @1x20

[smallumbrella369]

Fic Writing Review

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

Thanks for tagging me @flowertrigger .💐

Life was stupidly lifey in 2023. I literally posted one fic this year. So I’m only vaguely complying with the rules here.  

Words and Fics

Total Word count: 158,583

Fandom: Schitt's Creek (forever my heart)

First fic posted: Music Moves Him

Last fic posted: David Rose: Style Consultant

Shortest fic: Quick and Dirty (498 words)

Longest fic: My heart is like paper (yours is like a flame) (56,156)

Random acts of posting

For about 5 minutes, I considered getting into recording podfics. The process is a lot more complicated than my brain wanted to engage with, so here’s my one and only recording. Just 263 words in under 2 minutes. All credit goes to Missgeevious. (@missgeevious)

Freckles

Fandom Fic Events 

In October 2020 I wrote Stranded for the SC Trick or Treat Collection

In March 2021 I wrote BDE (Big Dick Energy ) for My Eyes Are Up Here

Both of these events were great fun to participate in and yielded excellent stories from everyone. Go check them out! 

Projects for 2024

This is my list of my wips that I’d like to compete.

Fake boyfriend 

The fic /fic: An epistolary

bookstore/5+1- a new idea (because why not add to the list?)

Joshua Tree- AU-  An unfinished! 60K monstrosity that should probably be 45K tops, but has gotten way out of hand and way in my head and may never see the light of day. So… there’s that. 

@missgeevious @mostlyinthemorning @delilah-mcmuffin @madlori

@apothecarose @apothecarypants @five678patty @jesuisici33 @ramonaflow @jamilas-pen @chelle-68

Anyone who'd like to play, please do. I'm so bad at tagging people!!

[smblmn]

✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

tagged by the lovelies @hippolotamus, @stereopticons, @lizzie-bennetdarcy and @a-noble-dragon thanks so much! ❤️❤️❤️

Words and Fics

47,175 words published to AO3 (hopefully some more next week for FO)

Around 50,000 words lost on my WIPS

2 fandoms: Schitt's Creek and Red, White & Royal Blue

Most recent fic: Flirting for Dummies (RWRB)

Longest fic: In another life (SC)

Top Fics by Kudos

Flirting for Dummies (RWRB)

When you least expect it (SC)

The great turkey calamity? (RWRB)

Until we get there (SC)

In another life (SC)

My fandom fic events in 2023

We belong to the sound of the words we've both fallen under (SC) for @sc-passions-and-pastimes

The great turkey calamity? for @halloweenhuh

Flirting for Dummies for the New Traditions: a Red White & Royal Blue Advent calendar event from @rwrbprompts

Something for @scfrozenover coming soon

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024

Something for the @rwrbnygiftexchange !

Finishing a RWRB fic for @thebrownstone

Finishing the Green Card Marriage SC fic that's been driving me insane for well over a year now

Hopefully finishing some of my most beloved projects for the SC fandom

Signing up for every event I see because clearly, I need deadlines

I haven't been around here much these past few days so ignore this if you've already been tagged @noahreids @blackandwhiteandrose @wordthieve @beaiola @apothecarose @ramonaflow @vanillahigh00 @dinnfameron @obsessedwithdavrick @jamilas-pen and anyone else who wants to do it!

[callmelittlesunshinefics]

[Someone to Try New Things With] - Part 1

Adrian Chase/Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Cursing, drug use, universe-similar language/subject matter, will add as needed as things might get smutty.

AN: This has been sitting in my drafts for days now with me putting off posting. No Y/N, but the reader is loosely based off of the same as my AO3 fic. This is still a baby of an idea and more of a drabble to length is tbd :)

Covered in blood and speeding down the highway, everyone was having a much better time than they probably should. You chalked it up to the adrenaline, the euphoria at somehow still being alive despite a literal gorilla swinging you around like its toy doll. Everyone was celebrating the win, exposing and wounding a deep rooted butterfly operation right under their noses, and yet, you couldn’t help but find yourself dwelling on the opposite. The obvious fact that this plant supplied so much of the alien food source that it could only mean an invasion on the scale of which you hadn’t fully even grasped yet. 

But hey, nothing getting a little less than sober couldn’t fix. 

Harcourt nudged your shoulder, pulling you out of your own head, “If even I’m sporting a hint of a smile, how is it you’re not?” She eyed you suspiciously. 

Emilia had known you the longest of the team, and had actually been the person who made the call to recruit you. You were…an exception to the government to say the absolute least. To put it simply, this universe wasn’t your first home, but you did find yourself here and even found family, and abilities you never knew you had in your other life. 

Amanda Waller was aware of your arrival immediately, though once she saw who had found you first, even she knew she couldn’t intervene with her usual force. The best she could do was invite you and your…’uncle’, Lucifer Morningstar, to brunch while she was ‘conveniently passing through’ L.A. Explain who she was, what she did, and ask if she could ever call on them for help. 

She did, and once or twice you agreed. It soon became obvious that you were more likely to agree if Emilia were on the case as well, and the two of you became friends with a quickness that surprised you both. She knew your entire past, in both worlds, and in return you were one of the only people who knew hers. Probably as close as you would come to having a sister. 

“Just trying to wrap my head around the day I guess. Or,” you coughed, making a show of raising your voice even above the music, “OR trying to figure out if anyone wants to partake in some legal drugs and alcohol this evening because what the fuck just happened??”

The group collectively cheered and you smirked at Emilia, as if to prove everything were fine. She rolled her eyes at your blatant attempt to throw her off. 

Leota slid over, joining the huddle as soon as she saw the dreaded Harcourt eye roll. 

“Is it the dancing? Are you totally questioning your sexual taste over that dancing?” 

“OH MY GOD” you whisper yelled, channeling David a-la Schitt’s Creek. 

Adebayo laughed, “What? You’re the only one sitting here looking miserable after getting out of there in one piece, and since she couldn’t get you to crack I figured you were regretting your crush on-“ 

“I know what you’re-“ you cut her and yourself off, closing your eyes and stopping. 

Emilia doesn’t know where to start with her prying, and Leota had to go to straight to the one thing she didn’t want to talk about in such a close knit space. She wanted to talk about your hopelessly ridiculous crush on Adrian Chase. 

You fell pretty hard and pretty fast for someone who made absolutely no fucking sense. Emilia couldn’t make heads or tails of it. She was mortified. Not quite disgusted, she wasn’t blind, but she never believed in the ‘love at first sight’ thing. And neither did you, which only made how you felt, and how deeply you felt it, all the more confusing. 

You decided to fess up to your actual feelings before they could make any more guesses, “Honestly the scale of this thing is just weighing on me. Didn’t hit me until we saw the size of this operation, ya know?” 

They both looked momentarily deflated, but quickly bounced back shrugging, with Emilia shaking her head at you. 

“Okay see, you have to enjoy the moment.” Leota forced your shoulders down urging you to relax and speaking louder now, “I think we’re gonna do exactly what you said.”  

Economos snorted from the driver’s seat, “Drugs and alcohol?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m in.” From Chris, obviously. 

You hadn’t even realized the guys had tuned into the conversation once Leota spoke up. Economos shrugged like he was in but didn’t care, though you could tell he was excited. The only one still thinking was Adrian, and you looked at him waiting for an answer. Chris spoke up instead. 

“Dude, stop being weird about weed and just come, it’s legal, you gotta let it go and probably try it so you don’t keep being so fucking-“ 

“Alright, alright!” Adrian interrupted before Chris could keep going, he didn’t want to hear the rest of it. He looked at you.

“I’m coming but we need snacks. Come to 7-11 with me when we get back?” 

You smirked, “Adrian, I would love to.” 

He glared at you, “Are you being sarcastic?” 

“She’s not,” Harcourt said, “You two head out when we get back and I’ll text you a list.” 

The rest of the ride was spent with everyone shouting out snacks and drinks they like, don’t like, don’t like but might like while stoned, and it went on and on until John and Chris were fighting about Combos and there wasn’t anything resembling a list. You leaned into Adrian’s side, watching everything unfold.

“I think we have to make a run for it and just buy everything in 7-11.” She stage whispered near him and he smirked. 

“Yeah, there’s no way we can afford everything in 7-11.” 

You laughed in response and held up a wallet that was clearly not your own. You let it fall open for Adrian to see that you had picked Emilia’s pocket while she was trying to end the Great Combo Debate.

“You know that’s a crime.” He raised his eyebrows at you, you knew Adrian well enough to know that while he sounded like he was joking, he completely wasn’t.

“Actually it’s not,” you pulled out a generic looking credit card Adrian had never seen before, “Em has a card that gets comp’d by the job. And since this is a team event after nearly getting shredded by a gorilla, I think Waller can bankroll us tonight.” 

“In that case I’m gonna need two bags of each Skittles flavor just for me-” 

He went on, but you just bounced on your heels waiting for John to park. Everyone had a part; Chris and John were heading out to find a dealer Chris knew for some last minute party favors, Harcourt and Adebayo were on alcohol and set up duty, grabbing speakers from a dusty room in the back and throwing on a playlist.

You and Adrian were on your way to 7-11 when you realized that the ride had been unusually quiet. You weren’t totally sure what you were to Adrian, but you knew that he never had any shortage of things to say or questions to ask you. As soon as you had joined the team and they had been given a (loose) background of why you joined the team, Adrian had had an endless stream of questions for you. The team had given him a hard time about it, but you assured them you didn’t mind, not adding how adorable you found it. 

“What’s on your mind, Ade?” 

It struck you not for the first time that it was a good thing Vigilante’s mask was so concealing because you could read every thought that passed Adrian’s mind. He clearly weighed whether or not to tell the truth or make something up, you could see the moment he decided on the truth, and the moment that he braced himself play out in succession.

“I’m thinking about smoking with you guys to stop being annoying like Chris said, but it’s probably so gross and I’m gonna choke and then he’s just gonna make fun of me more and think I’m a lame best friend so then Adebayo is gonna be second under Eagley and third may as well not even count as a best friend.”

Everything was said in one running sentence and he kept his eyes straight ahead, but you could tell how worried he actually was about this. 

“Okay.” You took a deep breath-

“It’s fine, I was being stupid.”

“No, you’re not, let’s just talk it out. Seriously.” You looked right at him and he nodded. Pulling into the 7-11 parking lot, he parked and threw his seat belt off, turning to you and waiting. 

“First of all Ade, don’t smoke because of Chris. He’s just messing with you and once he starts partying he’ll forget he even said it.” 

Adrian nodded begrudgingly.

“Second, the only reason you should try tonight would be if you want to try it for yourself while you’re with friends who’ll look out for you in case it doesn’t go well. For all of his jokes I know Chris would look out for you if it actually came down to it. He’d make fun of you first, but he’d help.” You smirked at him, shrugging. 

Adrian took a deep breath and released it, immediately feeling lighter, but also a little scared. He told you it was Chris he was worried about, totally. It was, anyway, but then you sat there and walked through everything he said, one step at a time, in a way no one else ever does and he was able to make sense of things so the problem just…goes away? Crazy.

“I know you said I should only do it if I want to, but I wanna know if you think I should do it?” He asked you so genuinely, like it was a matter of life and death.

“Okay, how about this. I’ll try to explain what I like about it, and you can think about if you’d like that too and want to try.” He nodded and you took that as your sign to keep going, “I mean you know me Ade, I get anxiety about things I don’t even know if I should have anxiety about yet. Not to mention all the shit I’d much rather forget. I’m not saying smoking makes any of that go away, but it definitely puts me in a headspace where for a little while it doesn’t feel as heavy. It feels like I can really breath, and all of the good things just feel better too. It’s not like that for everyone, and it takes some getting used to, but that’s what I like about it.” 

You meandered towards the end of that sentence, suddenly feeling self conscious over how intently Adrian was staring at you and listening to your every word. He thought about what you said before very seriously stating, “Okay, I’m definitely a maybe.” and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Let’s head in, gonna take a while to grab one of everything.” You joked, exiting the car with Adrian catching up to you. 

By the time you made it back to base Adrian wouldn’t let you help carry anything and asked you to send Chris and John out instead. He did, however, take the time to clarify that he wasn’t being sexist, he just knew you had carried enough out of 7-11 and Harcourt and Adebayo probably needed a break from their bickering.

He was way more aware than people gave him credit for, you decided making your way into the building.

“That was a pretty clean swipe but I’m gonna need my wallet back now.” Emilia help her hand out expectantly, smirking.

“‘Clean’ come on, you know you didn’t even notice, you can say so.” You rolled your eyes and passed the wallet back, leaving the receipt tucked in for her expense report. You looked around and laughed, “Do you think you guys got enough beer?” There were cases all over of several different types.

Leota shrugged, “Everyone likes something different and it’s not like we’re not gonna use it.” 

“That’s true, I just know once I smoke I’m going to start tossing those like I’m Stone Cold Steve Austin and no one will be able to talk sense into me.” 

The guys all came in dropping bags from 7-11 just in time to catch your last remark and Chris immediately agreed.

“FUCK YEAH WE HAVE TO-”

“OUTSIDE!” Emilia interrupted, “If you must be children, do. it. out. side.” 

“Yes, mom.” You rolled your eyes, quickly shaking your head at Chris and shooting him a warning glare from adding on to your statement. You could easily see him calling Emilia ‘mommy’ and getting this whole night canceled for everyone. 

“Need any help?” You turned to John who you were surprised to see getting a bong set up. Not exactly what you were expecting for a black ops team, but hey, who were you to judge. Lucifer used some surprising pieces too, after all. 

“Nah, pretty straightforward over here, but everyone agreed you’ll be getting first dibs.”

“Aw, thanks.” You weren’t all that surprised. As Emilia said, you not joining in the celebration was an odd sight, and not just to her. There was a silent agreement that you needed the nudge.

Everyone settled onto the floor surprisingly naturally. Once the adrenaline started fading a little and they had found their favorite snacks, the group found themselves casually arranged in a circle on the ground, throwing things at each other and debating the music choices. 

A loose order was formed once you decided to light the bong, with Adrian observing as the rest of the group (excluding Emilia) passed the herb around. After Chris lit more than he could handle you jumped in to help, pulling the bowl and laughing along with Chris. 

“So is there a way for like,” he nudged his glasses up his face and shrugged, “you can start it for me and I can just ya know, do that part at the end?” 

“Is he talking about a shotgun?” Economos foolishly asked while Chris burst into a grin. You looked to the two women for help, neither seeing any reason for your panic. 

“Why yes there IS a way to do that, and I’m sure Angel Cakes would be happy to help you out with it.” Chris eagerly nodded at you, making sure to drop the nickname he knew you couldn’t stand. 

“Chris don’t be ridiculous, we all know you two are close enough to do it.” Leota jumped in, ready to save you from your already weakening self control. 

“Well sure but he didn’t ask me he asked her, and probably cause he knows I might laugh right in his mouth and that would be-“ 

“Okay, enough, yeah, fuck it-“ you cut everyone off, getting a bit louder with each work, “I’m gonna shot gun Ade’s first hit, but everyone’s taking a shot first.” 

The group gave a salute and followed orders, proving that there were at least some things they could agree on as a team. 

“So what exactly does shotgun even mean for this, it’s not like shotgunning a beer otherwise why would you or Chris have to do it…?” Adrian was asking the questions to the group, but specifically you while you grabbed your lighter from Chris and motioned for Adrian to slow down. 

“I’m gonna light the bowl, take a deep breath, and hold all the smoke in my mouth.” He nodded for you to continue, “I’m going to turn to you and blow all the smoke into your mouth, so make sure you take a nice deep breath. Hold it for a while, and don’t let anyone be a bitch if you cough.” 

“Economos, this is what you thought I was asking for??” 

“Well you seem like you’re into some kinky shit so sure!” 

“I mean yeah but not with you!” Adrian caught himself and turned back to you “With him that is, not saying yes with you but not no either because any answer is inappropriate so-“ 

“Adrian,” you stopped him, “We’re here now. Just take a deep breath when I tell you, okay?” 

He nodded and you lit the bowl, saying a quick prayer that this wasn’t going to be the metaphorical rubber band snap that sent you crossing the lines of appropriate workplace boundaries with an off-the-books-anyway assassin. 

You went on as if everything were completely normal. As if Adrian weren’t watching your lips with the intense concentration usually reserved for something else entirely, deadly in a different sense. You pulled the bowl from the slider and grabbed Adrian’s chin, gesturing him to tilt and open his mouth, which he did surprisingly quickly. 

The first thing he noticed was that he did faintly taste your cherry soda, something he told himself wouldn’t happen, because surely the only taste he would be able to notice would be the weed he told himself he’d never try. It almost felt welcoming in a way he didn’t expect, it tasted familiar, and tasted like you, something he had been so curious about that he felt instantly calmed. Until he remembered the smoke in his lungs and urgently started coughing, smoke pluming out quickly. Expecting everyone to be laughing, he was pleasantly surprised to look up to see the team cheering, Chris coming over to clap him on the back.

Turned out to be exactly like you said, Adrian realized everything felt a little lighter. Problems that seemed insurmountable earlier…kind of seemed manageable now. 

[stereopticons]

20 questions for fic writers!

tagged by @rmd-writes

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

78! Which is honestly still astounding to me.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

327,853

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Schitt’s Creek, with a smattering of RWRB and 911

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

the lie between your teeth (SC)

if I’m not beyond repair (SC)

never knew a home before I found your hands (RWRB)

love you in moderation (do I look moderate to you?) (SC)

so bitter and so sweet (SC)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I am very slow at it but I do eventually respond to them (I promise!).

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I mostly only write HEA, but I guess I have to go with (we’ll always long for) one more song by nature of it being MCD (but after a long life, at least)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

How do you judge which happy ending is the happiest? I do not know.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Once and I did not appreciate it one bit.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do. It’s the kind that always has a lot of feelings in it (and is often a lil bit kinky)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I have only written one—twist yourself around me, which was pre-canon SC/Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. I did have an idea for a v smutty SC/911 crossover with slut era Buck but I have yet to write it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not a whole fic, as far as I know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I would be open to it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! It was a lot of fun and I would love to do it again.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

David/Patrick

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I’m not willing to admit defeat on any of them just yet, even when it feels like I’ll never finish anything again.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think feelings and introspection. At least I hope so.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Not using the word murmurs. I’m getting better at world building but it’s still a weakness.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I included David speaking German in a fic once because I headcanon that both he and Alexis speak multiple languages. I think if it’s done right and you don’t rely on online translators, it can be good!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Rent

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

How am I supposed to pick one out of 78?! I was going to say if I’m not beyond repair but I went over to grab the link and was scrolling through my works like oh but I love this one too!! I think my actual favorite is the as yet incomplete indie band Patrick which I swear I’m gonna finish one day (but if you want to read part of it that IS posted, that’s you light me up like starlight. The full fic will be a prequel)

Tagging @indestructibleheart @nontoxic-writes @blackandwhiteandrose @hippolotamus @lizzie-bennetdarcy @jettestar @alienajackson @rosedavid @housewifebuck @kiwiana-writes @mostlyinthemorning @apothecarose and anyone else who wants to play

[hippolotamus]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @alyxmastershipper @spotsandsocks @swiftiediaz. Thank you lovelies

Two things this evening

9-1-1 - The Letters (Buddie)

A collection of letters written by Evan Buckley in the years following his separation from Eddie Diaz. Brackets and all (for now).

To the finder of this letter,

My name is Evan Buckley. At present, I reside at [address] in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Also in residence are my wife, Lucy, and our two dogs, [name] and [name]. I would never claim to live here, for that requires living. And my heart hasn’t beat properly in ages.

I never wished to revisit these moments, nor transcribe them. However, it is at Lucy’s insistence that I am reluctantly doing so. She has this notion that it will help quell the ache, and perhaps ease the nightmares. Both the result of losing my beloved, the other half of my heart and soul. 

It is of little consequence to you as the reader, I suppose, but I still feel it necessary to explain the arrangement Lucy and I have agreed upon. The conditions we choose to live with because of the circumstances we could not decide for ourselves. 

After my father’s death I was forced to return home. To take my place as head of the household to provide for my mother, and sister, Maddie. I came to protect her most of all, only to discover I had lost her anyway. She only ever wished to see me happy. In pursuit of this, she married an abominable human being who shall not be named here. If I do nothing else with my remaining time on earth, it shall be to see to it his name is lost to history. 

Regarding the matter of Lucy. We met shortly after my return, during an outing with my mother. It was a festival in the park with musicians and acrobats. The sort of thing where young men court young ladies, and mothers bring their unmarried children to parade them about. Clearly I was the latter. Of every lady Mother attempted to force me to become smitten by (or as she later put it, be tolerant of) I was most intrigued by the fair-haired woman operating the flower cart. We did not speak that day, not in words, only in exchanged glances. For reasons I did not yet know, I already understood she would be vital for me and I for her. 

It would be three more weeks, and dozens more disappointed potential wives, before we held a formal conversation. Mother had, of course, observed the shared looks I was attempting to hide less and less. She voiced her distaste for the situation immediately, informing me I must focus my efforts on finding a wife, despite my insistence that I did not see the purpose. Under the ruse of purchasing a bloom for the latest disappointment-to-be, I paid a visit to Lucy’s cart. It was perhaps not the most well thought out plan, but it was the one I needed most to work. 

I stated my name and title, declared I had no debts nor lovers or gambling afflictions and, if she could declare the same, I wished to marry her. Lucy promptly rejected my offer, telling me to return when I was a paying customer and not a deceptive suitor.

Schitt's Creek - Ch 2 of I know all your secrets

David paces the length of the sitting room, wired and anxious. The penthouse, measuring however many thousands of square feet, is still too small. He’s already shed his jacket, hanging it carefully in the walk-in closet. He’s not a monster, after all. But it does little to ease the tension that continues building under his skin, making him spark with need. Eager to get his hands on Patrick again.

Patrick’s ragged breathing echoes in his mind, the way he writhed under David’s touch, so desperate for release he was practically begging. 

David won’t be alone for long. Patrick has always come, will always. David knows this, and it terrifies him. Yet, with every minute that passes, every errant sound that makes him turn toward the door, his doubts grow louder. 

Agent Brewer was supposed to be a personal conquest, a challenge. A one time experience. There was no room for a ‘next time’. David should have known better. From the first time he noticed Patrick in Monsanto he wanted him. He took one look at the cocky, competent sonofabitch – wearing his stupid midrange denim and braided belt – and wanted to take him apart. To ruin him. 

He finally got his chance at their third encounter in Vienna. There was no bed, not so much as a fancy, expensive chaise lounge. Only the two of them, hidden in the shadows of Neptune’s Fountain. Not how David envisioned it, but he wouldn’t exactly call getting buttoned-up Agent Brewer off against ancient architecture a loss. Especially not when he sought David out the following evening and let himself be reduced to a whimpering mess, barely capable of stringing two syllables together.

It's late, but I'll tag: @shortsighted-owl @elvensorceress @stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @fatedbuddie @buddierights @alysiswriting @apothecarose @rmd-writes @vanillahigh00 @jesuisici33 and my love @lizzie-bennetdarcy